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THE INFLUENCE
OF SEA POWER
UPON HISTORY
1660-1783
By
A. T. MAHAN, D.C.L., LL.D.
Author of "The Influence of Sea Power upon the French
Revolution and Empire, 1793-1812," etc.

TWELFTH EDITION
BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY
Copyright, 1890,
By Captain A.T. Mahan.
Copyright, 1918,
By Ellen Lyle Mahan.
Printed in the United States of America
PREFACE.
The definite object proposed in this work is an examination of the general history of Europe and America with particular reference to the effect of sea power upon the course of that history. Historians generally have been unfamiliar with the conditions of the sea, having as to it neither special interest nor special knowledge; and the profound determining influence of maritime strength upon great issues has consequently been overlooked. This is even more true of particular occasions than of the general tendency of sea power. It is easy to say in a general way, that the use and control of the sea is and has been a great factor in the history of the world; it is more troublesome to seek out and show its exact bearing at a particular juncture. Yet, unless this be done, the acknowledgment of general importance remains vague and unsubstantial; not resting, as it should, upon a collection of special instances in which the precise effect has been made clear, by an analysis of the conditions at the given moments.
The main focus of this work is to examine the overall history of Europe and America, especially looking at how sea power has impacted that history. Historians typically haven't paid much attention to maritime conditions, lacking both interest and knowledge in this area; as a result, the significant influence of naval strength on key events has been largely ignored. This is especially true for specific events compared to the general trends of sea power. It’s easy to broadly state that the use and control of the sea have been important in world history; however, it’s more challenging to identify and illustrate its exact impact at specific points in time. Without this detailed analysis, recognizing its overall importance remains vague and unsupported, lacking the concrete examples required to demonstrate its precise effects under the conditions prevailing at those moments.
A curious exemplification of this tendency to slight the bearing of maritime power upon events may be [iv]drawn from two writers of that English nation which more than any other has owed its greatness to the sea. "Twice," says Arnold in his History of Rome, "Has there been witnessed the struggle of the highest individual genius against the resources and institutions of a great nation, and in both cases the nation was victorious. For seventeen years Hannibal strove against Rome, for sixteen years Napoleon strove against England; the efforts of the first ended in Zama, those of the second in Waterloo." Sir Edward Creasy, quoting this, adds: "One point, however, of the similitude between the two wars has scarcely been adequately dwelt on; that is, the remarkable parallel between the Roman general who finally defeated the great Carthaginian, and the English general who gave the last deadly overthrow to the French emperor. Scipio and Wellington both held for many years commands of high importance, but distant from the main theatres of warfare. The same country was the scene of the principal military career of each. It was in Spain that Scipio, like Wellington, successively encountered and overthrew nearly all the subordinate generals of the enemy before being opposed to the chief champion and conqueror himself. Both Scipio and Wellington restored their countrymen's confidence in arms when shaken by a series of reverses, and each of them closed a long and perilous war by a complete and overwhelming defeat of the chosen leader and the chosen veterans of the foe."
A clear example of this tendency to underestimate the impact of naval power on historical events can be [iv]seen in the writings of two authors from England, a nation that owes much of its greatness to the sea. "Twice," says Arnold in his History of Rome, "there has been a struggle between exceptional individual talent and the resources and institutions of a powerful nation, and in both instances, the nation won. For seventeen years, Hannibal fought against Rome, and for sixteen years, Napoleon fought against England; the efforts of the first ended in Zama, and those of the second ended in Waterloo." Sir Edward Creasy, quoting this, adds: "One aspect of the similarity between the two wars hasn't been thoroughly examined; that is the striking comparison between the Roman general who ultimately defeated the formidable Carthaginian and the English general who dealt the final devastating blow to the French emperor. Scipio and Wellington both held important military commands for many years, yet far from the main battlefields. The same country was where each had their significant military careers. It was in Spain that Scipio, like Wellington, faced and defeated nearly all the enemy's lower-ranking generals before confronting the top champion and conqueror himself. Both Scipio and Wellington restored their countrymen's confidence in military prowess when it was shaken by a series of setbacks, and each ended a long and dangerous war with a total and overwhelming defeat of the chosen leader and the elite veterans of the enemy."
Neither of these Englishmen mentions the yet more striking coincidence, that in both cases the mastery of the sea rested with the victor. The Roman control of [v]the water forced Hannibal to that long, perilous march through Gaul in which more than half his veteran troops wasted away; it enabled the elder Scipio, while sending his army from the Rhone on to Spain, to intercept Hannibal's communications, to return in person and face the invader at the Trebia. Throughout the war the legions passed by water, unmolested and unwearied, between Spain, which was Hannibal's base, and Italy, while the issue of the decisive battle of the Metaurus, hinging as it did upon the interior position of the Roman armies with reference to the forces of Hasdrubal and Hannibal, was ultimately due to the fact that the younger brother could not bring his succoring reinforcements by sea, but only by the land route through Gaul. Hence at the critical moment the two Carthaginian armies were separated by the length of Italy, and one was destroyed by the combined action of the Roman generals.
Neither of these Englishmen mentions the even more striking coincidence that, in both cases, the victor had control of the sea. The Roman dominance of [v]the waters forced Hannibal into that long, dangerous march through Gaul, during which more than half of his veteran troops perished. It allowed the elder Scipio to send his army from the Rhone to Spain, intercept Hannibal's communications, and return personally to confront the invader at the Trebia. Throughout the war, the legions traveled by water, unharmed and tireless, between Spain, Hannibal's base, and Italy, while the outcome of the decisive battle at the Metaurus, which depended on the Romans' strategic position in relation to Hasdrubal and Hannibal’s forces, was ultimately determined by the fact that the younger brother could only bring his reinforcements via land through Gaul, not by sea. This resulted in the two Carthaginian armies being separated by the length of Italy at a critical moment, leading to one being defeated by the coordinated efforts of the Roman generals.
On the other hand, naval historians have troubled themselves little about the connection between general history and their own particular topic, limiting themselves generally to the duty of simple chroniclers of naval occurrences. This is less true of the French than of the English; the genius and training of the former people leading them to more careful inquiry into the causes of particular results and the mutual relation of events.
On the other hand, naval historians haven't really bothered to connect general history with their specific subject, mostly acting as basic chroniclers of naval events. This is less the case for the French than for the English; the nature and education of the French lead them to dig deeper into the reasons behind specific outcomes and the relationships between events.
There is not, however, within the knowledge of the author any work that professes the particular object here sought; namely, an estimate of the effect of sea power upon the course of history and the prosperity of [vi]nations. As other histories deal with the wars, politics, social and economical conditions of countries, touching upon maritime matters only incidentally and generally unsympathetically, so the present work aims at putting maritime interests in the foreground, without divorcing them, however, from their surroundings of cause and effect in general history, but seeking to show how they modified the latter, and were modified by them.
There isn’t, according to the author’s knowledge, any work that specifically addresses the aim here: an assessment of the impact of sea power on the course of history and the prosperity of [vi] nations. While other histories cover wars, politics, and the social and economic conditions of countries, usually mentioning maritime issues only briefly and often without sympathy, this work intends to spotlight maritime interests. However, it doesn’t separate them from the broader context of cause and effect in general history; it seeks to demonstrate how these interests shaped history and were also shaped by it.
The period embraced is from 1660, when the sailing-ship era, with its distinctive features, had fairly begun, to 1783, the end of the American Revolution. While the thread of general history upon which the successive maritime events is strung is intentionally slight, the effort has been to present a clear as well as accurate outline. Writing as a naval officer in full sympathy with his profession, the author has not hesitated to digress freely on questions of naval policy, strategy, and tactics; but as technical language has been avoided, it is hoped that these matters, simply presented, will be found of interest to the unprofessional reader.
The period covered is from 1660, when the age of sailing ships, with its unique characteristics, had begun, to 1783, the end of the American Revolution. While the overarching historical context connecting the various maritime events is intentionally minimal, the goal has been to provide a clear and accurate outline. Writing as a naval officer who fully appreciates his profession, the author hasn’t held back from exploring topics of naval policy, strategy, and tactics; however, since technical jargon has been avoided, it is hoped that these subjects, presented simply, will be interesting to non-professional readers.
A. T. MAHAN
A.T. Mahan
December, 1889.
December 1889.
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTORY. | |
History of Sea Power one of contest between nations, therefore largely military | 1 |
Permanence of the teachings of history | 2 |
Unsettled condition of modern naval opinion | 2 |
Contrasts between historical classes of war-ships | 2 |
Essential distinction between weather and lee gage | 5 |
Analogous to other offensive and defensive positions | 6 |
Consequent effect upon naval policy | 6 |
Lessons of history apply especially to strategy | 7 |
Less obviously to tactics, but still applicable | 9 |
Illustrations: | |
The battle of the Nile, CE 1798 | 10 |
Trafalgar, A.D. 1805 | 11 |
Siege of Gibraltar, CE 1779-1782 | 12 |
Actium, BCE 31, and Lepanto, CE 1571 | 13 |
Second Punic War, B.C. 218-201 | 14 |
Naval strategic combinations surer now than formerly | 22 |
Wide scope of naval strategy | 22 |
CHAPTER I. | |
Discussion of the Elements of Sea Power. | |
The sea a great common | 25 |
Advantages of water-carriage over that by land | 25 |
Navies exist for the protection of commerce | 26 |
Dependence of commerce upon secure seaports | 27 |
Development of colonies and colonial posts | 28 |
Links in the chain of Sea Power: production, shipping, colonies | 28 |
[viii]General conditions affecting Sea Power: | |
I. Geographical position | 29 |
II. Physical conformation | 35 |
III. Extent of territory | 42 |
IV. Number of population | 44 |
V. National character | 50 |
VI. Character and policy of governments | 58 |
England | 59 |
Holland | 67 |
France | 69 |
Influence of colonies on Sea Power | 82 |
The United States: | |
Its weakness in Sea Power | 83 |
Its chief interest in internal development | 84 |
Danger from blockades | 85 |
Dependence of the navy upon the shipping interest | 87 |
Conclusion of the discussion of the elements of Sea Power | 88 |
Purpose of the historical narrative | 89 |
CHAPTER II. | |
State of Europe in 1660.—Second Anglo-Dutch War, 1665-1667.—Naval Battles of Lowestoft and the Four Days. | |
Accession of Charles II. and Louis XIV. | 90 |
Followed shortly by general wars | 91 |
French policy formulated by Henry IV. and Richelieu | 92 |
Condition of France in 1660 | 93 |
Condition of Spain | 94 |
Condition of the Dutch United Provinces | 96 |
Their commerce and colonies | 97 |
Character of their government | 98 |
Parties in the State | 99 |
Condition of England in 1660 | 99 |
Characteristics of French, English, and Dutch ships | 101 |
Conditions of other European States | 102 |
Louis XIV. the leading personality in Europe | 103 |
His policy | 104 |
Colbert's administrative acts | 105 |
Second Anglo-Dutch War, 1665 | 107 |
Battle of Lowestoft, 1665 | 108 |
Fire-ships, compared with torpedo-cruisers | 109 |
The group formation | 112 |
[ix]The order of battle for sailing-ships | 115 |
The Four Days' Battle, 1666 | 117 |
Military merits of the opposing fleets | 126 |
Soldiers commanding fleets, discussion | 127 |
Ruyter in the Thames, 1667 | 132 |
Peace of Breda, 1667 | 132 |
Military value of commerce-destroying | 132 |
CHAPTER III. | |
War between England and France in alliance against the United Provinces, 1672-1674. — Finally, France against Combined Europe, 1674-1678. — Naval battles of Solebay, the Texel, and Stromboli. | |
Aggressions of Louis XIV. on Spanish Netherlands | 139 |
Policy of the United Provinces | 139 |
Triple alliance between England, Holland, and Sweden | 140 |
Anger of Louis XIV. | 140 |
Leibnitz proposes to Louis to seize Egypt | 141 |
His memorial | 142 |
Bargaining between Louis XIV. and Charles II. | 143 |
The two kings declare war against the United Provinces | 144 |
Military character of this war | 144 |
Naval strategy of the Dutch | 144 |
Tactical combinations of De Ruyter | 145 |
Inefficiency of Dutch naval administration | 145 |
Battle of Solebay, 1672 | 146 |
Tactical comments | 147 |
Effect of the battle on the course of the war | 148 |
Land campaign of the French in Holland | 149 |
Murder of John De Witt, Grand Pensionary of Holland | 150 |
Accession to power of William of Orange | 150 |
Uneasiness among European States | 150 |
Naval battles off Schoneveldt, 1673 | 151 |
Naval battle of the Texel, 1673 | 152 |
Effect upon the general war | 154 |
Equivocal action of the French fleet | 155 |
General ineffectiveness of maritime coalitions | 156 |
Military character of De Ruyter | 157 |
Coalition against France | 158 |
[x]Peace between England and the United Provinces | 158 |
Sicilian revolt against Spain | 159 |
Battle of Stromboli, 1676 | 161 |
Illustration of Clerk's naval tactics | 163 |
De Ruyter killed off Agosta | 165 |
England becomes hostile to France | 166 |
Sufferings of the United Provinces | 167 |
Peace of Nimeguen, 1678 | 168 |
Effects of the war on France and Holland | 169 |
Notice of Comte d'Estrées | 170 |
CHAPTER IV. | |
English Revolution—War of the League of Augsburg, 1688-1697—Naval Battles of Beachy Head and La Hougue. | |
Aggressive policy of Louis XIV. | 173 |
State of French, English, and Dutch navies | 174 |
Accession of James II. | 175 |
Formation of the League of Augsburg | 176 |
Louis declares war against the Emperor of Germany | 177 |
Revolution in England | 178 |
Louis declares war against the United Provinces | 178 |
William and Mary crowned | 178 |
James II. lands in Ireland | 179 |
Misdirection of French naval forces | 180 |
William III. lands in Ireland | 181 |
Naval battle of Beachy Head, 1690 | 182 |
Tourville's military character | 184 |
Battle of the Boyne, 1690 | 186 |
End of the struggle in Ireland | 186 |
Naval battle of La Hougue, 1692 | 189 |
Destruction of French ships | 190 |
Influence of Sea Power in this war | 191 |
Attack and defence of commerce | 193 |
Peculiar characteristics of French privateering | 195 |
Peace of Ryswick, 1697 | 197 |
Exhaustion of France: its causes | 198 |
CHAPTER V.[xi] | |
War of the Spanish Succession, 1702-1713.—Sea Battle Of Malaga. | |
Failure of the Spanish line of the House of Austria | 201 |
King of Spain wills the succession to the Duke of Anjou | 202 |
Death of the King of Spain | 202 |
Louis XIV. accepts the bequests | 203 |
He seizes towns in Spanish Netherlands | 203 |
Offensive alliance between England, Holland, and Austria | 204 |
Declarations of war | 205 |
The allies proclaim Carlos III. King of Spain | 206 |
Affair of the Vigo galleons | 207 |
Portugal joins the allies | 208 |
Character of the naval warfare | 209 |
Capture of Gibraltar by the English | 210 |
Naval battle of Malaga, 1704 | 211 |
Decay of the French navy | 212 |
Progress of the land war | 213 |
Allies seize Sardinia and Minorca | 215 |
Disgrace of Marlborough | 216 |
England offers terms of peace | 217 |
Peace of Utrecht, 1713 | 218 |
Terms of the peace | 219 |
Results of the war to the different belligerents | 219 |
Commanding position of Great Britain | 224 |
Sea Power dependent upon both commerce and naval strength | 225 |
Peculiar position of France as regards Sea Power | 226 |
Depressed condition of France | 227 |
Commercial prosperity of England | 228 |
Ineffectiveness of commerce-destroying | 229 |
Duguay-Trouin's expedition against Rio de Janeiro, 1711 | 230 |
War between Russia and Sweden | 231 |
CHAPTER VI.[xii] | |
The Regency in France.—Alberoni in Spain.—Policies of Walpole and Fleuri.—War of the Polish Succession.—English Smuggling in Spanish America.—Great Britain Declares War on Spain.—1715-1739. | |
Death of Queen Anne and Louis XIV. | 232 |
Accession of George I. | 232 |
Regency of Philip of Orleans | 233 |
Administration of Alberoni in Spain | 234 |
Spaniards invade Sardinia | 235 |
Alliance of Austria, England, Holland, and France | 235 |
Spaniards invade Sicily | 236 |
Destruction of Spanish navy off Cape Passaro, 1718 | 237 |
Failure and dismissal of Alberoni | 239 |
Spain accepts terms | 239 |
Great Britain interferes in the Baltic | 239 |
Death of Philip of Orleans | 241 |
Administration of Fleuri in France | 241 |
Growth of French commerce | 242 |
France in the East Indies | 243 |
Troubles between England and Spain | 244 |
English contraband trade in Spanish America | 245 |
Illegal search of English ships | 246 |
Walpole's struggles to preserve peace | 247 |
War of the Polish Succession | 247 |
Creation of the Bourbon kingdom of the Two Sicilies | 248 |
Bourbon family compact | 248 |
France acquires Bar and Lorraine | 249 |
England declares war against Spain | 250 |
Morality of the English action toward Spain | 250 |
Decay of the French navy | 252 |
Death of Walpole and of Fleuri | 253 |
CHAPTER VII.[xiii] | |
War between Great Britain and Spain, 1739. — War of the Austrian Succession, 1740. — France joins Spain against Great Britain, 1744. — Naval battles of Matthews, Anson, and Hawke. — Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, 1748. | |
Characteristics of the wars from 1739 to 1783 | 254 |
Neglect of the navy by French government | 254 |
Colonial possessions of the French, English, and Spaniards | 255 |
Dupleix and La Bourdonnais in India | 258 |
Condition of the contending navies | 259 |
Expeditions of Vernon and Anson | 261 |
Outbreak of the War of the Austrian Succession | 262 |
England allies herself to Austria | 262 |
Naval affairs in the Mediterranean | 263 |
Influence of Sea Power on the war | 264 |
Naval battle off Toulon, 1744 | 265 |
Causes of English failure | 267 |
Courts-martial following the action | 268 |
Inefficient action of English navy | 269 |
Capture of Louisburg by New England colonists, 1745 | 269 |
Causes which concurred to neutralize England's Sea Power | 269 |
France overruns Belgium and invades Holland | 270 |
Naval actions of Anson and Hawke | 271 |
Brilliant defence of Commodore l'Étenduère | 272 |
Projects of Dupleix and La Bourdonnais in the East Indies | 273 |
Influence of Sea Power in Indian affairs | 275 |
La Bourdonnais reduces Madras | 276 |
Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, 1748 | 277 |
Madras exchanged for Louisburg | 277 |
Results of the war | 278 |
Effect of Sea Power on the issue | 279 |
CHAPTER VIII.[xiv] | |
Seven Years' War, 1756-1763.—England's Dominance and Victories at Sea, in North America, Europe, and the East and West Indies.—Naval Battles: Byng near Minorca; Hawke versus Conflans; Pocock versus D'Aché in the East Indies. | |
Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle leaves many questions unsettled | 281 |
Dupleix pursues his aggressive policy | 281 |
He is recalled from India | 282 |
His policy abandoned by the French | 282 |
Agitation in North America | 283 |
Braddock's expedition, 1755 | 284 |
Seizure of French ships by the English, while at peace | 285 |
French expedition against Port Mahon, 1756 | 285 |
Byng sails to relieve the place | 286 |
Byng's action off Port Mahon, 1756 | 286 |
Characteristics of the French naval policy | 287 |
Byng returns to Gibraltar | 290 |
He is relieved, tried by court-martial, and shot | 290 |
Formal declarations of war by England and France | 291 |
England's appreciation of the maritime character of the war | 291 |
France is drawn into a continental struggle | 292 |
The Seven Years' War (1756-1763) begins | 293 |
Pitt becomes Prime Minister of England | 293 |
Operations in North America | 293 |
Fall of Louisburg, 1758 | 294 |
Fall of Quebec, 1759, and of Montreal, 1760 | 294 |
Influence of Sea Power on the continental war | 295 |
English plans for the general naval operations | 296 |
Choiseul becomes Minister in France | 297 |
He plans an invasion of England | 297 |
Sailing of the Toulon fleet, 1759 | 298 |
Its disastrous encounter with Boscawen | 299 |
Consequent frustration of the invasion of England | 300 |
Project to invade Scotland | 300 |
Sailing of the Brest fleet | 300 |
Hawke falls in with it and disperses it, 1759 | 302 |
Accession of Charles III. to Spanish throne | 304 |
Death of George II. | 304 |
[xv]Clive in India | 305 |
Battle of Plassey, 1757 | 306 |
Decisive influence of Sea Power upon the issues in India | 307 |
Naval actions between Pocock and D'Aché, 1758, 1759 | 307 |
Destitute condition of French naval stations in India | 309 |
The French fleet abandons the struggle | 310 |
Final fall of the French power in India | 310 |
Ruined condition of the French navy | 311 |
Alliance between France and Spain | 313 |
England declares war against Spain | 313 |
Rapid conquest of French and Spanish colonies | 314 |
French and Spaniards invade Portugal | 316 |
The invasion repelled by England | 316 |
Severe reverses of the Spaniards in all quarters | 316 |
Spain sues for peace | 317 |
Losses of British mercantile shipping | 317 |
Increase of British commerce | 318 |
Commanding position of Great Britain | 319 |
Relations of England and Portugal | 320 |
Terms of the Treaty of Paris | 321 |
Opposition to the treaty in Great Britain | 322 |
Results of the maritime war | 323 |
Results of the continental war | 324 |
Influence of Sea Power in countries politically unstable | 324 |
Interest of the United States in the Central American Isthmus | 325 |
Effects of the Seven Years' War on the later history of Great Britain | 326 |
Subsequent acquisitions of Great Britain | 327 |
British success due to maritime superiority | 328 |
Mutual dependence of seaports and fleets | 329 |
CHAPTER IX. | |
Timeline from the Peace of Paris to 1778—Naval Warfare Following the American Revolution—Naval battle near Ushant. | |
French discontent with the Treaty of Paris | 330 |
Revival of the French navy | 331 |
Discipline among French naval officers of the time | 332 |
Choiseul's foreign policy | 333 |
Domestic troubles in Great Britain | 334 |
Controversies with the North American colonies | 334 |
[xvi]Genoa cedes Corsica to France | 334 |
Dispute between England and Spain about the Falkland Islands | 335 |
Choiseul dismissed | 336 |
Death of Louis XV. | 336 |
Naval policy of Louis XVI. | 337 |
Characteristics of the maritime war of 1778 | 338 |
Instructions of Louis XVI. to the French admirals | 339 |
Strength of English navy | 341 |
Characteristics of the military situation in America | 341 |
The line of the Hudson | 342 |
Burgoyne's expedition from Canada | 343 |
Howe carries his army from New York to the Chesapeake | 343 |
Surrender of Burgoyne, 1777 | 343 |
American privateering | 344 |
Clandestine support of the Americans by France | 345 |
Treaty between France and the Americans | 346 |
Vital importance of the French fleet to the Americans | 347 |
The military situation in the different quarters of the globe | 347 |
Breach between France and England | 350 |
Sailing of the British and French fleets | 350 |
Battle of Ushant, 1778 | 351 |
Position of a naval commander-in-chief in battle | 353 |
CHAPTER X. | |
Maritime War in North America and the West Indies, 1778-1781.—Its Impact on the American Revolution.—Naval Battles off Grenada, Dominica, and Chesapeake Bay. | |
D'Estaing sails from Toulon for Delaware Bay, 1778 | 359 |
British ordered to evacuate Philadelphia | 359 |
Rapidity of Lord Howe's movements | 360 |
D'Estaing arrives too late | 360 |
Follows Howe to New York | 360 |
Fails to attack there and sails for Newport | 361 |
Howe follows him there | 362 |
Both fleets dispersed by a storm | 362 |
D'Estaing takes his fleet to Boston | 363 |
Howe's activity foils D'Estaing at all points | 363 |
D'Estaing sails for the West Indies | 365 |
The English seize Sta. Lucia | 365 |
[xvii]Ineffectual attempts of D'Estaing to dislodge them | 366 |
D'Estaing captures Grenada | 367 |
Naval battle of Grenada, 1779; English ships crippled | 367 |
D'Estaing fails to improve his advantages | 370 |
Reasons for his neglect | 371 |
French naval policy | 372 |
English operations in the Southern States | 375 |
D'Estaing takes his fleet to Savannah | 375 |
His fruitless assault on Savannah | 376 |
D'Estaing returns to France | 376 |
Fall of Charleston | 376 |
De Guichen takes command in the West Indies | 376 |
Rodney arrives to command English fleet | 377 |
His military character | 377 |
First action between Rodney and De Guichen, 1780 | 378 |
Breaking the line | 380 |
Subsequent movements of Rodney and De Guichen | 381 |
Rodney divides his fleet | 381 |
Goes in person to New York | 381 |
De Guichen returns to France | 381 |
Arrival of French forces in Newport | 382 |
Rodney returns to the West Indies | 382 |
War between England and Holland | 382 |
Disasters to the United States in 1780 | 382 |
De Grasse sails from Brest for the West Indies, 1781 | 383 |
Engagement with English fleet off Martinique | 383 |
Cornwallis overruns the Southern States | 384 |
He retires upon Wilmington, N.C., and thence to Virginia | 385 |
Arnold on the James River | 385 |
The French fleet leaves Newport to intercept Arnold | 385 |
Meets the English fleet off the Chesapeake, 1781 | 386 |
French fleet returns to Newport | 387 |
Cornwallis occupies Yorktown | 387 |
De Grasse sails from Hayti for the Chesapeake | 388 |
Action with the British fleet, 1781 | 389 |
Surrender of Cornwallis, 1781 | 390 |
Criticism of the British naval operations | 390 |
Energy and address shown by De Grasse | 392 |
Difficulties of Great Britain's position in the war of 1778 | 392 |
The military policy best fitted to cope with them | 393 |
Position of the French squadron in Newport, R.I., 1780 | 394 |
Great Britain's defensive position and inferior numbers | 396 |
Consequent necessity for a vigorous initiative | 396 |
Washington's opinions as to the influence of Sea Power on the American contest | 397 |
CHAPTER XI.[xviii] | |
Maritime War in Europe, 1779-1782. | |
Objectives of the allied operations in Europe | 401 |
Spain declares war against England | 401 |
Allied fleets enter the English Channel, 1779 | 402 |
Abortive issue of the cruise | 403 |
Rodney sails with supplies for Gibraltar | 403 |
Defeats the Spanish squadron of Langara and relieves the place | 404 |
The allies capture a great British convoy | 404 |
The armed neutrality of the Baltic powers, 1780 | 405 |
England declares war against Holland | 406 |
Gibraltar is revictualled by Admiral Derby | 407 |
The allied fleets again in the Channel, 1781 | 408 |
They retire without effecting any damage to England | 408 |
Destruction of a French convoy for the West Indies | 408 |
Fall of Port Mahon, 1782 | 409 |
The allied fleets assemble at Algesiras | 409 |
Grand attack of the allies on Gibraltar, which fails, 1782 | 410 |
Lord Howe succeeds in revictualling Gibraltar | 412 |
Action between his fleet and that of the allies | 412 |
Conduct of the war of 1778 by the English government | 412 |
Influence of Sea Power | 416 |
Proper use of the naval forces | 416 |
CHAPTER XII. | |
Events in the East Indies, 1778-1781.—Suffren departs from Brest for India, 1781.—His impressive naval campaign in the Indian Seas, 1782, 1783. | |
Neglect of India by the French government | 419 |
England at war with Mysore and with the Mahrattas | 420 |
Arrival of the French squadron under Comte d'Orves | 420 |
It effects nothing and returns to the Isle of France | 420 |
Suffren sails from Brest with five ships-of-the-line, 1781 | 421 |
Attacks an English squadron in the Cape Verde Islands, 1781 | 422 |
Conduct and results of this attack | 424 |
Distinguishing merits of Suffren as a naval leader | 425 |
Suffren saves the Cape Colony from the English | 427 |
[xix]He reaches the Isle of France | 427 |
Succeeds to the chief command of the French fleet | 427 |
Meets the British squadron under Hughes at Madras | 427 |
Analysis of the naval strategic situation in India | 428 |
The first battle between Suffren and Hughes, Feb. 17, 1782 | 430 |
Suffren's views of the naval situation in India | 433 |
Tactical oversights made by Suffren | 434 |
Inadequate support received by him from his captains | 435 |
Suffren goes to Pondicherry, Hughes to Trincomalee | 436 |
The second battle between Suffren and Hughes, April 12, 1782 | 437 |
Suffren's tactics in the action | 439 |
Relative injuries received by the opposing fleets | 441 |
Contemporaneous English criticisms upon Hughes's conduct | 442 |
Destitute condition of Suffren's fleet | 443 |
His activity and success in supplying wants | 443 |
He communicates with Hyder Ali, Sultan of Mysore | 443 |
Firmness and insight shown by Suffren | 445 |
His refusal to obey orders from home to leave the Indian Coast | 446 |
The third battle between Suffren and Hughes, July 6, 1782 | 447 |
Qualities shown by Hughes | 449 |
Stubborn fighting by the British admiral and captains | 449 |
Suffren deprives three captains of their commands | 449 |
Dilatory conduct of Admiral Hughes | 450 |
Suffren attacks and takes Trincomalee | 450 |
Strategic importance of this success | 451 |
Comparative condition of the two fleets in material for repairs | 451 |
The English government despatches powerful reinforcements | 452 |
The French court fails to support Suffren | 452 |
The fourth battle between Suffren and Hughes, Sept. 3, 1782 | 453 |
Mismanagement and injuries of the French | 455 |
Contrast between the captains in the opposing fleets | 456 |
Two ships of Suffren's fleet grounded and lost | 457 |
Arrival of British reinforcements under Admiral Bickerton | 458 |
Approach of bad-weather season; Hughes goes to Bombay | 458 |
Military situation of French and English in India | 459 |
Delays of the French reinforcements under Bussy | 460 |
Suffren takes his fleet to Achem, in Sumatra | 460 |
He returns to the Indian coast | 461 |
Arrival of Bussy | 461 |
Decline of the French power on shore | 461 |
The English besiege Bussy in Cuddalore by land and sea | 462 |
Suffren relieves the place | 462 |
The fifth battle between Suffren and Hughes, June 20, 1783 | 463 |
Decisive character of Suffren's action | 463 |
[xx]News of the peace received at Madras | 463 |
Suffren sails for France | 464 |
His flattering reception everywhere | 464 |
His distinguishing military qualities | 465 |
His later career and death | 466 |
CHAPTER XIII. | |
Events in the West Indies after the Surrender of Yorktown.— Interactions between De Grasse and Hood.—The Naval Battle of the Saints.—1781-1782. | |
Maritime struggle transferred from the continent to West Indies | 468 |
De Grasse sails for the islands | 469 |
French expedition against the island of St. Christopher, January, 1782 | 469 |
Hood attempts to relieve the garrison | 470 |
Manœuvres of the two fleets | 471 |
Action between De Grasse and Hood | 472 |
Hood seizes the anchorage left by De Grasse | 473 |
De Grasse attacks Hood at his anchorage | 474 |
Hood maintains his position | 475 |
Surrender of the garrison and island | 475 |
Merits of Hood's action | 476 |
Criticism upon De Grasse's conduct | 477 |
Rodney arrives in West Indies from England | 479 |
Junction of Rodney and Hood at Antigua | 479 |
De Grasse returns to Martinique | 479 |
Allied plans to capture Jamaica | 479 |
Rodney takes his station at Sta. Lucia | 480 |
The French fleet sails and is pursued by Rodney | 480 |
Action of April 9, 1782 | 481 |
Criticism upon the action | 483 |
The chase continued; accidents to French ships | 484 |
The naval battle of the Saints, April 12, 1782 | 485 |
Rodney breaks the French line | 488 |
Capture of the French commander-in-chief and five ships-of-the-line | 489 |
Details of the action | 489 |
Analysis of the effects of Rodney's manœuvre | 491 |
Tactical bearing of improvements in naval equipment | 493 |
Lessons of this short naval campaign | 495 |
Rodney's failure to pursue the French fleet | 496 |
[xxi]Examination of his reasons and of the actual conditions | 497 |
Probable effect of this failure upon the conditions of peace | 498 |
Rodney's opinions upon the battle of April 12 | 499 |
Successes achieved by Rodney during his command | 500 |
He is recalled by a new ministry | 500 |
Exaggerated view of the effects of this battle upon the war | 500 |
Subsequent career of De Grasse | 501 |
Court-martial ordered upon the officers of the French fleet | 502 |
Findings of the court | 502 |
De Grasse appeals against the finding | 503 |
He is severely rebuked by the king | 503 |
Deaths of De Grasse, Rodney, and Hood | 504 |
CHAPTER XIV. | |
A Critical Discussion of the Maritime War of 1778. | |
The war of 1778 purely maritime | 505 |
Peculiar interest therefore attaching to it | 506 |
Successive steps in the critical study of a war | 507 |
Distinction between "object" and "objective" | 507 |
Parties to the war of 1778 | 507 |
Objects of the different belligerents | 508 |
Foundations of the British Empire of the seas | 510 |
Threatened by the revolt of the colonies | 510 |
The British fleet inferior in numbers to the allies | 511 |
Choice of objectives | 511 |
The fleets indicated as the keys of the situation everywhere | 513 |
Elements essential to an active naval war | 514 |
The bases of operations in the war of 1778:— | |
In Europe | 515 |
On the American continent | 515 |
In the West Indies | 516 |
In the East Indies | 518 |
Strategic bearing of the trade-winds and monsoons | 518 |
The bases abroad generally deficient in resources | 519 |
Consequent increased importance of the communications | 519 |
The navies the guardians of the communications | 520 |
Need of intermediate ports between Europe and India | 520 |
Inquiry into the disposition of the naval forces | 521 |
Difficulty of obtaining information at sea | 521 |
Perplexity as to the destination of a naval expedition | 522 |
Disadvantages of the defensive | 523 |
[xxii]England upon the defensive in 1778 | 523 |
Consequent necessity for wise and vigorous action | 524 |
The key of the situation | 525 |
British naval policy in the Napoleonic wars | 525 |
British naval policy in the Seven Years' War | 527 |
Difficulties attending this policy | 527 |
Disposition of the British navy in the war of 1778 | 528 |
Resulting inferiority on many critical occasions | 528 |
Effect on the navy of the failure to fortify naval bases | 529 |
The distribution of the British navy exposes it to being out-numbered at many points | 531 |
The British naval policy in 1778 and in other wars compared | 532 |
Naval policy of the allies | 535 |
Divergent counsels of the coalition | 536 |
"Ulterior objects" | 537 |
The allied navies systematically assume a defensive attitude | 538 |
Dangers of this line of action | 538 |
Glamour of commerce-destroying | 539 |
The conditions of peace, 1783 | 540 |
Index | 543 |
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
LIST OF MAPS. | ||
I. | Mediterranean Sea | 15 |
II. | English Channel and North Sea | 107 |
III. | Indian Peninsula and Ceylon | 257 |
IV. | North Atlantic Ocean | 532 |
PLANS OF NAVAL BATTLES. | ||
In these plans, when the capital letters A, B, C, and D are used, all positions marked by the same capital are simultaneous. | ||
I. | Four Days' Battle, 1666 | 119 |
II. | Four Days' Battle, 1666 | 124 |
III. | Battle of Solebay, 1672 | 146 |
IV. | Battle of the Texel, 1673 | 153 |
V. | Battle of Stromboli, 1676 | 161 |
Va. | Pocock and D'Aché, 1758 | 161 |
VI. | Battle of Beachy Head, 1690 | 183 |
VIa. | Battle of La Hougue, 1692 | 183 |
VII. | Matthews's Action off Toulon, 1744 | 265 |
VIIa. | Byng's Action off Minorca, 1756 | 265 |
VIII. | Hawke and Conflans, 1759 | 303 |
IX. | Battle of Ushant, 1778 | 351 |
X. | D'Estaing and Byron, 1779 | 368 |
XI. | Rodney and De Guichen, April 17, 1780 | 378 |
XII. | Arbuthnot and Destouches, 1781 | 386 |
XIII. | Suffren at Porto Praya, 1781 | 423 |
XIV. | Suffren and Hughes, February 17, 1782[xxiv] | 431 |
XV. | Suffren and Hughes, April 12, 1782 | 438 |
XVI. | Suffren and Hughes, July 6, 1782 | 447 |
XVII. | Suffren and Hughes, September 3, 1782 | 454 |
XVIII. | Hood and De Grasse, January, 1782 | 470 |
XIX. | Hood and De Grasse, January, 1782 | 472 |
XX. | Rodney and De Grasse, April 9, 1782 | 482 |
XXI. | Rodney's Victory, April 12, 1782 | 486 |
INFLUENCE
OF
SEA POWER UPON HISTORY.
INTRODUCTORY.
The history of Sea Power is largely, though by no means solely, a narrative of contests between nations, of mutual rivalries, of violence frequently culminating in war. The profound influence of sea commerce upon the wealth and strength of countries was clearly seen long before the true principles which governed its growth and prosperity were detected. To secure to one's own people a disproportionate share of such benefits, 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 clash of interests, the angry feelings roused by conflicting attempts thus to appropriate the larger share, if not the whole, of the advantages of commerce, and of distant unsettled commercial regions, led to wars. On the other hand, wars arising from other causes have been greatly modified in their conduct and issue by the control of the sea. Therefore the history of sea power, while embracing in its broad sweep all that tends to make a people great upon the sea or by the sea, is largely a military history; and it is in this aspect that it will be mainly, though not exclusively, regarded in the following pages.
The history of Sea Power is mostly, but not exclusively, a story of struggles between nations, of rivalries, and of violence that often leads to war. The significant impact of maritime trade on a nation's wealth and strength was evident long before the actual principles behind its growth and success were understood. To ensure that their own people reaped the majority of these benefits, every effort was made to exclude others, either through peaceful legislative means like monopoly or prohibitive rules, or when those failed, through direct violence. The clash of interests and the anger stirred by competing attempts to claim a larger share—if not all—of the advantages of trade and unexplored commercial areas resulted in wars. Conversely, wars caused by other factors have been greatly influenced by control of the sea. Therefore, the history of sea power, while covering everything that contributes to a nation’s greatness at sea or through the sea, is largely a military history; and it will be mainly, though not exclusively, viewed in this way in the following pages.
A study of the military history of the past, such as this, is enjoined by great military leaders as essential to correct ideas [2]and to the skilful conduct of war in the future. Napoleon names among the campaigns to be studied by the aspiring soldier, those of Alexander, Hannibal, and Cæsar, to whom gunpowder was unknown; and there is a substantial agreement among professional writers that, while many of the conditions of war vary from age to age with the progress of weapons, there are certain teachings in the school of history which remain constant, and being, therefore, of universal application, can be elevated to the rank of general principles. For the same reason the study of the sea history of the past will be found instructive, by its illustration of the general principles of maritime war, notwithstanding the great changes that have been brought about in naval weapons by the scientific advances of the past half century, and by the introduction of steam as the motive power.
A study of military history like this one is recommended by great military leaders as essential for forming accurate ideas [2] and for managing future wars skillfully. Napoleon highlights campaigns that aspiring soldiers should study, such as those of Alexander, Hannibal, and Caesar, who operated without gunpowder; and there's a strong consensus among experts that while many aspects of warfare change over time with advancements in weaponry, certain lessons from history remain constant and can be elevated to the status of general principles. Similarly, studying maritime history will be found useful, as it illustrates the general principles of naval warfare, even with the significant changes in naval weapons brought about by scientific progress over the last fifty years and the introduction of steam as the primary power source.
It is doubly necessary thus to study critically the history and experience of naval warfare in the days of sailing-ships, because while these will be found to afford lessons of present application and value, steam navies have as yet made no history which can be quoted as decisive in its teaching. Of the one we have much experimental knowledge; of the other, practically none. Hence theories about the naval warfare of the future are almost wholly presumptive; and although the attempt has been made to give them a more solid basis by dwelling upon the resemblance between fleets of steamships and fleets of galleys moved by oars, which have a long and well-known history, it will be well not to be carried away by this analogy until it has been thoroughly tested. The resemblance is indeed far from superficial. The feature which the steamer and the galley have in common is the ability to move in any direction independent of the wind. Such a power makes a radical distinction between those classes of vessels and the sailing-ship; for the latter can follow only a limited number of courses when the wind blows, and must remain motionless when it fails. But while it is wise to observe things that are alike, it is also wise to look for things that differ; for when the imagination is carried away by the [3]detection of points of resemblance,—one of the most pleasing of mental pursuits,—it is apt to be impatient of any divergence in its new-found parallels, and so may overlook or refuse to recognize such. Thus the galley and the steamship have in common, though unequally developed, the important characteristic mentioned, but in at least two points they differ; and in an appeal to the history of the galley for lessons as to fighting steamships, the differences as well as the likeness must be kept steadily in view, or false deductions may be made. The motive power of the galley when in use necessarily and rapidly declined, because human strength could not long maintain such exhausting efforts, and consequently tactical movements could continue but for a limited time;[1] and again, during the galley period offensive weapons were not only of short range, but were almost wholly confined to hand-to-hand encounter. These two conditions led almost necessarily to a rush upon each other, not, however, without some dexterous attempts to turn or double on the enemy, followed by a hand-to-hand mêlée. In such a rush and such a mêlée a great consensus of respectable, even eminent, naval opinion of the present day finds the necessary outcome of modern naval weapons,—a kind of Donnybrook Fair, in which, as the history of mêlées shows, it will be hard to know friend from foe. Whatever may prove to be the worth of this opinion, it cannot claim an historical basis in the sole fact that galley and steamship can move at any moment directly upon the enemy, and carry a beak upon their prow, regardless of the points in which galley and steamship differ. As yet this opinion is only a presumption, upon which final judgment may well be deferred until the trial of battle has given further light. Until that time there is room for the opposite [4]view,—that a mêlée between numerically equal fleets, in which skill is reduced to a minimum, is not the best that can be done with the elaborate and mighty weapons of this age. The surer of himself an admiral is, the finer the tactical development of his fleet, the better his captains, the more reluctant must he necessarily be to enter into a mêlée with equal forces, in which all these advantages will be thrown away, chance reign supreme, and his fleet be placed on terms of equality with an assemblage of ships which have never before acted together.[2] History has lessons as to when mêlées are, or are not, in order.
It’s doubly important to critically study the history and experiences of naval warfare during the era of sailing ships because these examples provide lessons that are relevant today, whereas steam navies haven’t created any definitive historical accounts that we can learn from. We have a lot of experimental knowledge about the former, but almost none about the latter. Therefore, theories about future naval warfare are mostly based on assumptions. Although some have tried to back them up by comparing steamship fleets to galleys powered by oars—which have a long and established history—we should be cautious about relying too heavily on this analogy until it has been thoroughly examined. The similarities between the two are significant but not superficial. Both steamships and galleys can move in any direction without relying on the wind, which creates a fundamental difference from sailing ships. The latter can only follow a limited number of routes when the wind blows and must stay still when there’s no wind. While it's smart to observe the similarities, it's equally wise to seek out differences; the excitement of discovering resemblances—one of the most enjoyable intellectual activities—can often lead to overlooking or ignoring differences. While galleys and steamships share this important characteristic, they also differ in at least two major aspects. When looking to the history of galleys for insights on how to operate steamships, it’s crucial to keep both the differences and similarities in mind, or we risk drawing false conclusions. The power source of a galley quickly diminished because human strength couldn’t sustain such exhausting activities for long, limiting tactical movements to short durations. Moreover, during the galley era, offensive weapons were not only short-ranged but were primarily used in hand-to-hand combat. These factors naturally led to head-on clashes, albeit with some clever attempts to outmaneuver the enemy, ending in a close-quarters fight. In such encounters, a significant consensus among modern naval experts seems to suggest that this chaotic outcome is the inevitable result of contemporary naval weapons—a sort of free-for-all where, as history shows, it’s often hard to distinguish ally from enemy. Regardless of the value of this opinion, it lacks historical grounding simply because both galleys and steamships can move directly towards the enemy and have a ram at their bow, without considering the differences between the two. As of now, this view is merely a presumption, and we should hold off on final judgments until actual battle outcomes provide further clarity. Until then, there’s room for the opposing viewpoint—that a melee between equally matched fleets, where skill plays a minimal role, is not the best use of the sophisticated and powerful weapons of today. The more confident an admiral is, the more refined the tactical development of his fleet, and the better his captains are, the less likely he should be to engage in a melee against equal forces, where all those advantages would be lost, chance would take over, and his fleet would be set on equal footing with ships that have never worked together before. History provides lessons on when melees are or aren't appropriate.
The galley, then, has one striking resemblance to the steamer, but differs in other important features which are not so immediately apparent and are therefore less accounted of. In the sailing-ship, on the contrary, the striking feature is the difference between it and the more modern vessel; the points of resemblance, though existing and easy to find, are not so obvious, and therefore are less heeded. This impression is enhanced by the sense of utter weakness in the sailing-ship as compared with the steamer, owing to its dependence upon the wind; forgetting that, as the former fought with its equals, the tactical lessons are valid. The galley was never reduced to impotence by a calm, and hence receives more respect in our day than the sailing-ship; yet the latter displaced it and remained supreme until the utilization of steam. The powers to injure an enemy from a great distance, to manœuvre for an unlimited length of time without wearing out the men, to devote the greater part of the crew to the offensive weapons instead of to the oar, are common to the sailing vessel and the steamer, and are at least as important, tactically considered, as the power of the galley to move in a calm or against the wind.
The galley has one clear similarity to the steamer, but it differs in other important ways that aren't immediately noticeable and are therefore less recognized. In contrast, the sailing ship stands out because of its differences from modern vessels; while there are similarities, they're not as obvious and tend to be overlooked. This feeling is amplified by the sense of complete vulnerability in the sailing ship compared to the steamer, due to its reliance on the wind; however, we should remember that when the sailing ship faced its peers, the tactical lessons still apply. The galley was never made powerless by a lack of wind, which gives it more respect today than the sailing ship; however, the sailing ship replaced it and remained dominant until steam power was introduced. The ability to attack an enemy from a great distance, to maneuver for extended periods without exhausting the crew, and to focus most of the crew on offensive weapons instead of rowing are features shared by both the sailing vessel and the steamer, and are at least as significant tactically as the galley's capability to operate in calm conditions or against the wind.
[5]In tracing resemblances there is a tendency not only to overlook points of difference, but to exaggerate points of likeness,—to be fanciful. It may be so considered to point out that as the sailing-ship had guns of long range, with comparatively great penetrative power, and carronades, which were of shorter range but great smashing effect, so the modern steamer has its batteries of long-range guns and of torpedoes, the latter being effective only within a limited distance and then injuring by smashing, while the gun, as of old, aims at penetration. Yet these are distinctly tactical considerations, which must affect the plans of admirals and captains; and the analogy is real, not forced. So also both the sailing-ship and the steamer contemplate direct contact with an enemy's vessel,—the former to carry her by boarding, the latter to sink her by ramming; and to both this is the most difficult of their tasks, for to effect it the ship must be carried to a single point of the field of action, whereas projectile weapons may be used from many points of a wide area.
[5]When drawing comparisons, there’s a tendency not only to miss differences but also to overstate similarities, which can be somewhat fanciful. It can be noted that just as the sailing ship had long-range guns with considerable penetration power and carronades that, while shorter in range, had a strong smashing effect, today’s steamer has its long-range guns and torpedoes, with the latter being effective only over short distances and causing damage primarily through impact, while the gun still aims for penetration. These are important tactical considerations that impact the strategies of admirals and captains; the comparison is valid, not forced. Similarly, both the sailing ship and the steamer are designed for direct engagement with an enemy vessel—the former to capture it through boarding, the latter to ram it and sink it. This direct confrontation is the most challenging task for both, as it requires the ship to be maneuvered to a specific point in the battlefield, while projectile weapons can be deployed from many locations over a large area.
The relative positions of two sailing-ships, or fleets, with reference to the direction of the wind involved most important tactical questions, and were perhaps the chief care of the seamen of that age. To a superficial glance it may appear that since this has become a matter of such indifference to the steamer, no analogies to it are to be found in present conditions, and the lessons of history in this respect are valueless. A more careful consideration of the distinguishing characteristics of the lee and the weather "gage,"[3] directed to their essential features and disregarding secondary details, will show that this is a mistake. The distinguishing feature of the weather-gage was that it conferred the power of giving [6]or refusing battle at will, which in turn carries the usual advantage of an offensive attitude in the choice of the method of attack. This advantage was accompanied by certain drawbacks, such as irregularity introduced into the order, exposure to raking or enfilading cannonade, and the sacrifice of part or all of the artillery-fire of the assailant,—all which were incurred in approaching the enemy. The ship, or fleet, with the lee-gage could not attack; if it did not wish to retreat, its action was confined to the defensive, and to receiving battle on the enemy's terms. This disadvantage was compensated by the comparative ease of maintaining the order of battle undisturbed, and by a sustained artillery-fire to which the enemy for a time was unable to reply. Historically, these favorable and unfavorable characteristics have their counterpart and analogy in the offensive and defensive operations of all ages. The offence undertakes certain risks and disadvantages in order to reach and destroy the enemy; the defence, so long as it remains such, refuses the risks of advance, holds on to a careful, well-ordered position, and avails itself of the exposure to which the assailant submits himself. These radical differences between the weather and the lee gage were so clearly recognized, through the cloud of lesser details accompanying them, that the former was ordinarily chosen by the English, because their steady policy was to assail and destroy their enemy; whereas the French sought the lee-gage, because by so doing they were usually able to cripple the enemy as he approached, and thus evade decisive encounters and preserve their ships. The French, with rare exceptions, subordinated the action of the navy to other military considerations, grudged the money spent upon it, and therefore sought to economize their fleet by assuming a defensive position and limiting its efforts to the repelling of assaults. For this course the lee-gage, skilfully used, was admirably adapted so long as an enemy displayed more courage than conduct; but when Rodney showed an intention to use the advantage of the wind, not merely to attack, but to make a formidable concentration on a part of the enemy's [7]line, his wary opponent, De Guichen, changed his tactics. In the first of their three actions the Frenchman took the lee-gage; but after recognizing Rodney's purpose he manœuvred for the advantage of the wind, not to attack, but to refuse action except on his own terms. The power to assume the offensive, or to refuse battle, rests no longer with the wind, but with the party which has the greater speed; which in a fleet will depend not only upon the speed of the individual ships, but also upon their tactical uniformity of action. Henceforth the ships which have the greatest speed will have the weather-gage.
The relative positions of two sailing ships, or fleets, in relation to the wind direction raised crucial tactical questions and were likely the main concern for sailors of that time. At first glance, it might seem that since this has become a non-issue for steamships, there are no current parallels, and the historical lessons in this area are useless. However, a closer look at the key features distinguishing the lee and weather "gage,"[3] ignoring minor details, reveals this assumption to be wrong. The main feature of the weather-gage was that it allowed the ship to choose when to engage or avoid battle, which provided the typical advantage of an offensive position in deciding how to attack. This benefit came with certain downsides, including potential disorder, vulnerability to flanking cannon fire, and losing some or all of the attacker’s artillery fire when closing in on the enemy. The ship, or fleet, holding the lee-gage couldn’t attack; if it didn’t want to retreat, it was restricted to a defensive role, fighting on the enemy's terms. This disadvantage was balanced by the relatively easier maintenance of an undisturbed battle order and a sustained artillery assault that the enemy couldn’t initially counter. Historically, these positive and negative aspects find their counterparts and analogies in offensive and defensive operations throughout history. The offense takes risks and faces downsides to engage and defeat the enemy, while the defense, as long as it stays defensive, avoids the risks of advancing, maintains a careful, well-organized position, and exploits the vulnerabilities the attacker exposes. The significant differences between the weather and lee gage were so clear, despite the lesser details that surrounded them, that the British usually opted for the weather-gage because their consistent strategy was to attack and defeat their foes; conversely, the French preferred the lee-gage, often managing to weaken the enemy as they approached and thus avoiding decisive battles to protect their ships. In general, the French, with few exceptions, prioritized naval operations based on other military objectives, dreaded the expenses incurred, and therefore aimed to conserve their fleet by adopting a defensive stance and focusing their efforts on repelling attacks. For this strategy, the lee-gage was very suitable as long as the enemy was more reckless than strategic; but when Rodney indicated he would use the wind advantage not just to attack, but to mount a significant concentration on a section of the enemy's [7]line, his cautious opponent, De Guichen, adjusted his strategy. In their first of three encounters, the Frenchman took the lee-gage; but once he recognized Rodney's intention, he maneuvered to gain the wind advantage, not to attack, but to avoid fighting unless it was on his terms. The ability to take the offensive or refuse battle is no longer determined by the wind, but by the party with the greater speed; in a fleet, this depends not just on the individual ships’ speed, but also on how uniformly they operate tactically. From that point on, the fastest ships will hold the weather-gage.
It is not therefore a vain expectation, as many think, to look for useful lessons in the history of sailing-ships as well as in that of galleys. Both have their points of resemblance to the modern ship; both have also points of essential difference, which make it impossible to cite their experiences or modes of action as tactical precedents to be followed. But a precedent is different from and less valuable than a principle. The former may be originally faulty, or may cease to apply through change of circumstances; the latter has its root in the essential nature of things, and, however various its application as conditions change, remains a standard to which action must conform to attain success. War has such principles; their existence is detected by the study of the past, which reveals them in successes and in failures, the same from age to age. Conditions and weapons change; but to cope with the one or successfully wield the others, respect must be had to these constant teachings of history in the tactics of the battlefield, or in those wider operations of war which are comprised under the name of strategy.
It's not a pointless hope, as many believe, to look for useful lessons in the history of sailing ships as well as in that of galleys. Both share similarities with modern ships; they also have key differences that make it impossible to use their experiences or methods as tactical precedents to follow. However, a precedent is different from and less valuable than a principle. A precedent may have been flawed from the start or may become irrelevant due to changes in circumstances; a principle is rooted in the essential nature of things and, despite its various applications as conditions change, remains a standard that actions must align with to achieve success. War has such principles; their existence is revealed by studying the past, which shows them through successes and failures that remain consistent over time. Conditions and weapons change; but to effectively deal with the former or successfully use the latter, we must pay attention to these constant lessons of history in battlefield tactics, as well as in the broader operations of war known as strategy.
It is however in these wider operations, which embrace a whole theatre of war, and in a maritime contest may cover a large portion of the globe, that the teachings of history have a more evident and permanent value, because the conditions remain more permanent. The theatre of war may be larger or smaller, its difficulties more or less pronounced, the contending armies more or less great, the necessary movements [8]more or less easy, but these are simply differences of scale, of degree, not of kind. As a wilderness gives place to civilization, as means of communication multiply, as roads are opened, rivers bridged, food-resources increased, the operations of war become easier, more rapid, more extensive; but the principles to which they must be conformed remain the same. When the march on foot was replaced by carrying troops in coaches, when the latter in turn gave place to railroads, the scale of distances was increased, or, if you will, the scale of time diminished; but the principles which dictated the point at which the army should be concentrated, the direction in which it should move, the part of the enemy's position which it should assail, the protection of communications, were not altered. So, on the sea, the advance from the galley timidly creeping from port to port to the sailing-ship launching out boldly to the ends of the earth, and from the latter to the steamship of our own time, has increased the scope and the rapidity of naval operations without necessarily changing the principles which should direct them; and the speech of Hermocrates twenty-three hundred years ago, before quoted, contained a correct strategic plan, which is as applicable in its principles now as it was then. Before hostile armies or fleets are brought into contact (a word which perhaps better than any other indicates the dividing line between tactics and strategy), there are a number of questions to be decided, covering the whole plan of operations throughout the theatre of war. Among these are the proper function of the navy in the war; its true objective; the point or points upon which it should be concentrated; the establishment of depots of coal and supplies; the maintenance of communications between these depots and the home base; the military value of commerce-destroying as a decisive or a secondary operation of war; the system upon which commerce-destroying can be most efficiently conducted, whether by scattered cruisers or by holding in force some vital centre through which commercial shipping must pass. All these are strategic questions, and upon all these history [9]has a great deal to say. There has been of late a valuable discussion in English naval circles as to the comparative merits of the policies of two great English admirals, Lord Howe and Lord St. Vincent, in the disposition of the English navy when at war with France. The question is purely strategic, and is not of mere historical interest; it is of vital importance now, and the principles upon which its decision rests are the same now as then. St. Vincent's policy saved England from invasion, and in the hands of Nelson and his brother admirals led straight up to Trafalgar.
It is, however, in these broader operations, which encompass an entire theater of war, and in a maritime conflict that can stretch across a large part of the globe, that the lessons of history hold a clearer and more lasting significance, because the conditions tend to be more stable. The theater of war may be bigger or smaller, the challenges more or less pronounced, the opposing armies larger or smaller, and the necessary movements [8] easier or harder, but these are merely differences in scale and degree, not of type. As a wilderness is replaced by civilization, as transportation improves, as roads are paved, rivers are bridged, and food resources are enhanced, the execution of war becomes easier, faster, and broader; yet the principles guiding these operations remain the same. When marching on foot was replaced by transporting troops in coaches, and later by railroads, the distances increased, or, if you prefer, the time taken decreased; but the principles that determined where the army should gather, the direction it should go, the part of the enemy's position it should attack, and how to safeguard communications were unchanged. Similarly, at sea, the transition from the slow-moving galley to the bold sailing ship venturing to the ends of the earth, and then to the steamship of today, has expanded the range and speed of naval operations without fundamentally altering the principles that should guide them. The speech of Hermocrates, quoted earlier, outlined a sound strategic plan that remains relevant now just as it did then. Before opposing armies or fleets come into contact (which perhaps best signifies the dividing line between tactics and strategy), there are several questions to address that encompass the overall operational plan across the theater of war. These include the navy’s role in the war; its true objectives; where it should concentrate its efforts; establishing coal and supply depots; maintaining communications between these depots and the home base; the military significance of commerce disruption as a decisive or secondary wartime operation; and the most effective approach to conducting commerce disruption, whether through dispersed cruisers or by holding a crucial center through which commercial shipping must pass. All of these are strategic questions, and history [9] has much to say about them. Recently, there has been valuable discussion in British naval circles about the relative merits of the strategies employed by two prominent English admirals, Lord Howe and Lord St. Vincent, regarding the deployment of the Royal Navy during the war with France. The question is purely strategic and not just of historical interest; it is of crucial importance today, and the principles informing its resolution are the same now as they were then. St. Vincent's strategy protected England from invasion and, in the capable hands of Nelson and his fellow admirals, led directly to Trafalgar.
It is then particularly in the field of naval strategy that the teachings of the past have a value which is in no degree lessened. They are there useful not only as illustrative of principles, but also as precedents, owing to the comparative permanence of the conditions. This is less obviously true as to tactics, when the fleets come into collision at the point to which strategic considerations have brought them. The unresting progress of mankind causes continual change in the weapons; and with that must come a continual change in the manner of fighting,—in the handling and disposition of troops or ships on the battlefield. Hence arises a tendency on the part of many connected with maritime matters to think that no advantage is to be gained from the study of former experiences; that time so used is wasted. This view, though natural, not only leaves wholly out of sight those broad strategic considerations which lead nations to put fleets afloat, which direct the sphere of their action, and so have modified and will continue to modify the history of the world, but is one-sided and narrow even as to tactics. The battles of the past succeeded or failed according as they were fought in conformity with the principles of war; and the seaman who carefully studies the causes of success or failure will not only detect and gradually assimilate these principles, but will also acquire increased aptitude in applying them to the tactical use of the ships and weapons of his own day. He will observe also that changes of tactics have not only taken place after changes in weapons, which necessarily is the case, but that the [10]interval between such changes has been unduly long. This doubtless arises from the fact that an improvement of weapons is due to the energy of one or two men, while changes in tactics have to overcome the inertia of a conservative class; but it is a great evil. It can be remedied only by a candid recognition of each change, by careful study of the powers and limitations of the new ship or weapon, and by a consequent adaptation of the method of using it to the qualities it possesses, which will constitute its tactics. History shows that it is vain to hope that military men generally will be at the pains to do this, but that the one who does will go into battle with a great advantage,—a lesson in itself of no mean value.
It is particularly in naval strategy that the lessons from the past hold significant value. They serve not only to illustrate principles but also provide precedents due to the relatively stable conditions over time. This isn’t as clearly true for tactics, when fleets actually engage in combat based on strategic decisions. The constant advancement of humanity leads to ongoing changes in weaponry; with that, the way of fighting must evolve—including how troops or ships are managed and organized on the battlefield. This leads many involved in maritime affairs to think that studying past experiences offers no benefits; that the time spent on this is wasted. While this perspective is understandable, it completely overlooks the broad strategic considerations that prompt nations to deploy fleets, guide their actions, and have shaped, and will continue to shape, world history. It is also a narrow viewpoint regarding tactics. Past battles succeeded or failed based on their adherence to the principles of war; a mariner who carefully examines the reasons for success or failure will not only identify and gradually internalize these principles but will also gain greater skill in applying them to the tactical use of the ships and weapons of his time. He will also notice that changes in tactics have occurred not only *after* changes in weaponry, which is expected, but that the gap between such changes has often been too long. This likely stems from the fact that advancements in weapons usually come from the efforts of one or two individuals, while changes in tactics must overcome the resistance of a conservative faction; however, this is a significant issue. It can only be addressed by openly acknowledging each change, meticulously studying the strengths and limitations of the new ship or weapon, and adapting the method of its use to align with its inherent qualities, which will define its tactics. History shows it is futile to expect military personnel in general to take the initiative to do this, but those who do will enter battle with a considerable advantage—an important lesson in itself.
We may therefore accept now the words of a French tactician, Morogues, who wrote a century and a quarter ago: "Naval tactics are based upon conditions the chief causes of which, namely the arms, may change; which in turn causes necessarily a change in the construction of ships, in the manner of handling them, and so finally in the disposition and handling of fleets." His further statement, that "it is not a science founded upon principles absolutely invariable," is more open to criticism. It would be more correct to say that the application of its principles varies as the weapons change. The application of the principles doubtless varies also in strategy from time to time, but the variation is far less; and hence the recognition of the underlying principle is easier. This statement is of sufficient importance to our subject to receive some illustrations from historical events.
We can now accept the words of French tactician Morogues, who wrote about 125 years ago: "Naval tactics depend on conditions that can change; these changes mainly stem from the weapons used, which in turn necessitate changes in ship design, handling, and ultimately in the organization and management of fleets." His assertion that "it is not a science built on fixed principles" is more debatable. It would be more accurate to say that the application of its principles changes as the weapons evolve. The application of these principles definitely varies in strategy over time as well, but the fluctuations are much smaller, making it easier to recognize the underlying principles. This point is important enough for our topic to warrant some examples from historical events.
The battle of the Nile, in 1798, was not only an overwhelming victory for the English over the French fleet, but had also the decisive effect of destroying the communications between France and Napoleon's army in Egypt. In the battle itself the English admiral, Nelson, gave a most brilliant example of grand tactics, if that be, as has been defined, "the art of making good combinations preliminary to battles as well as during their progress." The particular tactical combination depended upon a condition now passed away, which was the inability of the lee ships of a fleet at anchor to come to the [11]help of the weather ones before the latter were destroyed; but the principles which underlay the combination, namely, to choose that part of the enemy's order which can least easily be helped, and to attack it with superior forces, has not passed away. The action of Admiral Jervis at Cape St. Vincent, when with fifteen ships he won a victory over twenty-seven, was dictated by the same principle, though in this case the enemy was not at anchor, but under way. Yet men's minds are so constituted that they seem more impressed by the transiency of the conditions than by the undying principle which coped with them. In the strategic effect of Nelson's victory upon the course of the war, on the contrary, the principle involved is not only more easily recognized, but it is at once seen to be applicable to our own day. The issue of the enterprise in Egypt depended upon keeping open the communications with France. The victory of the Nile destroyed the naval force, by which alone the communications could be assured, and determined the final failure; and it is at once seen, not only that the blow was struck in accordance with the principle of striking at the enemy's line of communication, but also that the same principle is valid now, and would be equally so in the days of the galley as of the sailing-ship or steamer.
The Battle of the Nile in 1798 wasn't just a major victory for the British over the French fleet; it also had the critical effect of cutting off communication between France and Napoleon's army in Egypt. During the battle, Admiral Nelson demonstrated an exceptional example of grand tactics, which can be defined as "the art of making effective plans both before battles and during their course." The specific tactical combination relied on a condition that no longer exists, which was that the ships anchored to the leeward couldn't assist those upwind before they were defeated. However, the underlying principles—choosing the part of the enemy's formation that is hardest to support and attacking it with greater strength—are still valid today. Admiral Jervis's actions at Cape St. Vincent, where he achieved victory with fifteen ships against twenty-seven, were guided by the same principle, even though in this instance the enemy was not anchored but was moving. Yet, people often focus more on the temporary conditions than on the enduring principle that addressed them. In contrast, the strategic impact of Nelson's victory on the course of the war is easily recognized and directly applicable to our time. The success of the campaign in Egypt relied on maintaining open communications with France. The victory at the Nile eliminated the naval power needed to secure those communications, leading to ultimate failure. It's clear that this strike was made according to the principle of attacking the enemy's lines of communication, and this principle is still relevant today, just as it was in the era of galleys, sailing ships, or steamers.
Nevertheless, a vague feeling of contempt for the past, supposed to be obsolete, combines with natural indolence to blind men even to those permanent strategic lessons which lie close to the surface of naval history. For instance, how many look upon the battle of Trafalgar, the crown of Nelson's glory and the seal of his genius, as other than an isolated event of exceptional grandeur? How many ask themselves the strategic question, "How did the ships come to be just there?" How many realize it to be the final act in a great strategic drama, extending over a year or more, in which two of the greatest leaders that ever lived, Napoleon and Nelson, were pitted against each other? At Trafalgar it was not Villeneuve that failed, but Napoleon that was vanquished; not Nelson that won, but England that was saved; and why? Because [12]Napoleon's combinations failed, and Nelson's intuitions and activity kept the English fleet ever on the track of the enemy, and brought it up in time at the decisive moment.[4] The tactics at Trafalgar, while open to criticism in detail, were in their main features conformable to the principles of war, and their audacity was justified as well by the urgency of the case as by the results; but the great lessons of efficiency in preparation, of activity and energy in execution, and of thought and insight on the part of the English leader during the previous months, are strategic lessons, and as such they still remain good.
Nevertheless, a vague feeling of disdain for the past, which is thought to be outdated, mixes with a natural laziness that prevents people from seeing even the obvious strategic lessons available in naval history. For example, how many view the Battle of Trafalgar, the pinnacle of Nelson's fame and proof of his brilliance, as more than just a remarkable isolated event? How many consider the strategic question, "How did the ships end up right there?" How many recognize it as the final act in a broader strategic narrative that unfolded over a year or more, involving two of history's greatest leaders, Napoleon and Nelson, facing off against each other? At Trafalgar, it wasn’t Villeneuve who failed, but Napoleon who was defeated; it wasn't Nelson who triumphed, but England that was preserved; and why? Because [12]Napoleon's plans fell short, while Nelson's instincts and actions kept the English fleet constantly on the enemy's trail, bringing it into position at the critical moment. [4] The tactics at Trafalgar, while open to detailed criticism, generally aligned with the principles of warfare, and their boldness was justified both by the urgency of the situation and the outcomes; but the key lessons in readiness, vigilance, and insight from the English leader in the months leading up to the battle are still relevant strategic lessons today.
In these two cases events were worked out to their natural and decisive end. A third may be cited, in which, as no such definite end was reached, an opinion as to what should have been done may be open to dispute. In the war of the American Revolution, France and Spain became allies against England in 1779. The united fleets thrice appeared in the English Channel, once to the number of sixty-six sail of the line, driving the English fleet to seek refuge in its ports because far inferior in numbers. Now, the great aim of Spain was to recover Gibraltar and Jamaica; and to the former end immense efforts both by land and sea were put forth by the allies against that nearly impregnable fortress. They were fruitless. The question suggested—and it is purely one of naval strategy—is this: Would not Gibraltar have been more surely recovered by controlling the English Channel, attacking the British fleet even in its harbors, and threatening England with annihilation of commerce and invasion at home, than by far greater efforts directed against a distant and very strong outpost of her empire? The English people, from long immunity, were particularly sensitive to fears of invasion, and their great confidence in their fleets, if rudely shaken, would have left them proportionately disheartened. However decided, the question as a point of strategy is fair; and it is proposed in another form by a French officer of the period, who favored directing the great effort on a West India island [13]which might be exchanged against Gibraltar. It is not, however, likely that England would have given up the key of the Mediterranean for any other foreign possession, though she might have yielded it to save her firesides and her capital. Napoleon once said that he would reconquer Pondicherry on the banks of the Vistula. Could he have controlled the English Channel, as the allied fleet did for a moment in 1779, can it be doubted that he would have conquered Gibraltar on the shores of England?
In these two cases, events unfolded to their natural and conclusive end. A third case can be mentioned, where, since no definitive outcome was reached, opinions on what should have been done might differ. During the American Revolution, France and Spain allied against England in 1779. The united fleets appeared three times in the English Channel, once with sixty-six ships of the line, forcing the English fleet to seek shelter in their ports due to their significantly smaller numbers. The main goal of Spain was to regain Gibraltar and Jamaica; for this purpose, the allies made enormous efforts both on land and at sea against that nearly impregnable fortress. These efforts were in vain. The question raised—purely a matter of naval strategy—is this: Wouldn't Gibraltar have been more likely to be regained by controlling the English Channel, attacking the British fleet even in their own harbors, and threatening England with the destruction of commerce and home invasion, rather than by the much larger efforts focused on a distant and extremely strong outpost of her empire? The English people, having been largely free from threat for so long, were particularly sensitive to the fears of invasion, and if their great confidence in their fleets was seriously shaken, it would have left them equally demoralized. Regardless of certainty, the question as a strategic point is valid; it was also posed in another way by a French officer of that time, who suggested focusing the major effort on a West Indian island [13] which could be traded for Gibraltar. However, it's unlikely that England would have given up the key to the Mediterranean for any other foreign possession, though they might have surrendered it to protect their homes and capital. Napoleon once claimed he would reconquer Pondicherry on the banks of the Vistula. If he had been able to control the English Channel, as the allied fleet did for a short time in 1779, can we really doubt that he would have conquered Gibraltar on the shores of England?
To impress more strongly the truth that history both suggests strategic study and illustrates the principles of war by the facts which it transmits, two more instances will be taken, which are more remote in time than the period specially considered in this work. How did it happen that, in two great contests between the powers of the East and of the West in the Mediterranean, in one of which the empire of the known world was at stake, the opposing fleets met on spots so near each other as Actium and Lepanto? Was this a mere coincidence, or was it due to conditions that recurred, and may recur again?[5] If the latter, it is worth while to study out the reason; for if there should again arise a great eastern power of the sea like that of Antony or of Turkey, the strategic questions would be similar. At present, indeed, it seems that the centre of sea power, resting mainly with England and France, is overwhelmingly in the West; but should any chance add to the control of the Black Sea basin, which Russia now has, the possession of the entrance to the Mediterranean, the existing strategic conditions affecting sea power would all be modified. Now, were the West arrayed against the East, England and France would go at once unopposed to the Levant, as they did in 1854, and as England alone went in 1878; in case of the change suggested, the East, as twice before, would meet the West half-way.
To emphasize even more that history teaches us strategic planning and shows the principles of war through its facts, we’ll look at two additional examples that are from a different time than the period mainly covered in this work. How is it that, in two major conflicts between Eastern and Western powers in the Mediterranean, one involving the empire of the known world, the opposing fleets clashed in such close proximity at Actium and Lepanto? Was this just a coincidence, or were there recurring conditions that might happen again?[5] If it's the latter, it’s important to explore the reasons; because if a powerful Eastern naval force like Antony's or Turkey's were to emerge again, the strategic issues would likely be similar. Right now, it seems that the center of naval power, primarily held by England and France, is overwhelmingly in the West; however, if something were to increase Russia's control over the Black Sea region and its access to the Mediterranean, it would change the current strategic landscape of naval power. If the West were to face off against the East, England and France would quickly move unopposed to the Levant, as they did in 1854 and as England alone did in 1878; should the suggested shift occur, the East would once again meet the West halfway, just as it did twice before.
At a very conspicuous and momentous period of the world's history, Sea Power had a strategic bearing and weight which [14]has received scant recognition. There cannot now be had the full knowledge necessary for tracing in detail its influence upon the issue of the second Punic War; but the indications which remain are sufficient to warrant the assertion that it was a determining factor. An accurate judgment upon this point cannot be formed by mastering only such facts of the particular contest as have been clearly transmitted, for as usual the naval transactions have been slightingly passed over; there is needed also familiarity with the details of general naval history in order to draw, from slight indications, correct inferences based upon a knowledge of what has been possible at periods whose history is well known. The control of the sea, however real, does not imply that an enemy's single ships or small squadrons cannot steal out of port, cannot cross more or less frequented tracts of ocean, make harassing descents upon unprotected points of a long coast-line, enter blockaded harbors. On the contrary, history has shown that such evasions are always possible, to some extent, to the weaker party, however great the inequality of naval strength. It is not therefore inconsistent with the general control of the sea, or of a decisive part of it, by the Roman fleets, that the Carthaginian admiral Bomilcar in the fourth year of the war, after the stunning defeat of Cannæ, landed four thousand men and a body of elephants in south Italy; nor that in the seventh year, flying from the Roman fleet off Syracuse, he again appeared at Tarentum, then in Hannibal's hands; nor that Hannibal sent despatch vessels to Carthage; nor even that, at last, he withdrew in safety to Africa with his wasted army. None of these things prove that the government in Carthage could, if it wished, have sent Hannibal the constant support which, as a matter of fact, he did not receive; but they do tend to create a natural impression that such help could have been given. Therefore the statement, that the Roman preponderance at sea had a decisive effect upon the course of the war, needs to be made good by an examination of ascertained facts. Thus the kind and degree of its influence may be fairly estimated.
At a very noticeable and significant time in history, Sea Power had a strategic importance that [14] has received little recognition for. We can’t fully understand its detailed influence on the outcome of the second Punic War now; however, the evidence that remains is enough to support the claim that it was a key factor. You can’t accurately judge this just by knowing the facts of that specific conflict that have been clearly recorded, because, as usual, naval events have been overlooked. You also need to be familiar with the overall history of naval warfare to draw correct conclusions from limited evidence based on what has been possible in well-documented periods. Controlling the sea, however substantial, doesn’t mean that an enemy's individual ships or small groups can’t sneak out of their ports, cross less traveled ocean routes, launch surprise attacks on vulnerable parts of a long coastline, or enter blocked harbors. In fact, history reveals that such maneuvers are always somewhat possible for the weaker side, no matter how imbalanced the naval power might be. Therefore, it’s not inconsistent with the Roman fleets having general control of the sea, or a significant part of it, that the Carthaginian admiral Bomilcar, in the fourth year of the war after the heavy defeat at Cannæ, landed four thousand soldiers and elephants in southern Italy; nor that in the seventh year, escaping from the Roman fleet near Syracuse, he showed up again at Tarentum, which Hannibal controlled; nor that Hannibal sent messages to Carthage; nor that, in the end, he safely withdrew back to Africa with his depleted army. None of these circumstances prove that the Carthaginian government could have provided Hannibal with the consistent support he didn't actually receive; but they do create a natural impression that such assistance could have been offered. Thus, the statement that Roman dominance at sea had a decisive impact on the war's progress needs to be substantiated by examining verified facts. This way, we can fairly assess the kind and extent of its influence.
[15]At the beginning of the war, Mommsen says, Rome controlled the seas. To whatever cause, or combination of causes, it be attributed, this essentially non-maritime state had in the first Punic War established over its sea-faring rival a naval supremacy, which still lasted. In the second war there was no naval battle of importance,—a circumstance which in itself, and still more in connection with other well-ascertained facts, indicates a superiority analogous to that which at other epochs has been marked by the same feature.
[15]At the start of the war, Mommsen notes, Rome had control of the seas. Regardless of the specific cause or combination of factors, this primarily land-based state had, during the first Punic War, established naval dominance over its sea-faring rival, a dominance that still continued. In the second war, there were no significant naval battles—this detail, along with other established facts, suggests a superiority similar to what has been seen in other periods marked by the same characteristic.
As Hannibal left no memoirs, the motives are unknown which determined him to the perilous and almost ruinous march through Gaul and across the Alps. It is certain, however, that his fleet on the coast of Spain was not strong enough to contend with that of Rome. Had it been, he might still have followed the road he actually did, for reasons that weighed with him; but had he gone by the sea, he would not have lost thirty-three thousand out of the sixty thousand veteran soldiers with whom he started.
As Hannibal didn’t leave behind any writings, we don’t know what drove him to take the risky and almost disastrous journey through Gaul and over the Alps. However, it’s clear that his fleet on the coast of Spain wasn’t strong enough to take on Rome's navy. If it had been, he might have still chosen the route he took for his own reasons; but if he had gone by sea, he wouldn’t have lost thirty-three thousand of the sixty thousand seasoned soldiers he started with.
While Hannibal was making this dangerous march, the Romans were sending to Spain, under the two elder Scipios, one part of their fleet, carrying a consular army. This made the voyage without serious loss, and the army established itself successfully north of the Ebro, on Hannibal's line of communications. At the same time another squadron, with an army commanded by the other consul, was sent to Sicily. The two together numbered two hundred and twenty ships. On its station each met and defeated a Carthaginian squadron with an ease which may be inferred from the slight mention made of the actions, and which indicates the actual superiority of the Roman fleet.
While Hannibal was making this risky march, the Romans were sending part of their fleet to Spain under the two older Scipios, carrying a consular army. The voyage went smoothly, and the army managed to set up successfully north of the Ebro, cutting into Hannibal's supply lines. Meanwhile, another squadron with an army led by the other consul was sent to Sicily. Together, they had a total of two hundred and twenty ships. Each squadron faced and defeated a Carthaginian fleet with a level of ease suggested by the brief mention of these battles, indicating the clear superiority of the Roman fleet.
After the second year the war assumed the following shape: Hannibal, having entered Italy by the north, after a series of successes had passed southward around Rome and fixed himself in southern Italy, living off the country,—a condition which tended to alienate the people, and was especially precarious when in contact with the mighty political and military system of control which Rome had there [16]established. It was therefore from the first urgently necessary that he should establish, between himself and some reliable base, that stream of supplies and reinforcements which in terms of modern war is called "communications." There were three friendly regions which might, each or all, serve as such a base,—Carthage itself, Macedonia, and Spain. With the first two, communication could be had only by sea. From Spain, where his firmest support was found, he could be reached by both land and sea, unless an enemy barred the passage; but the sea route was the shorter and easier.
After the second year, the war took on this form: Hannibal, having entered Italy from the north, moved southward past Rome after a series of victories and settled in southern Italy, relying on local resources. This situation risked turning the local population against him, especially when facing the powerful political and military system that Rome had established in the region. Thus, it was crucial from the start for him to secure a steady stream of supplies and reinforcements—what is now referred to as "communications"—between himself and a reliable base. Three friendly regions could potentially serve as this base: Carthage, Macedonia, and Spain. Communication with the first two could only happen by sea. From Spain, where he found his strongest support, he could be reached by both land and sea unless an enemy obstructed the way; however, the sea route was shorter and easier.
In the first years of the war, Rome, by her sea power, controlled absolutely the basin between Italy, Sicily, and Spain, known as the Tyrrhenian and Sardinian Seas. The sea-coast from the Ebro to the Tiber was mostly friendly to her. In the fourth year, after the battle of Cannæ, Syracuse forsook the Roman alliance, the revolt spread through Sicily, and Macedonia also entered into an offensive league with Hannibal. These changes extended the necessary operations of the Roman fleet, and taxed its strength. What disposition was made of it, and how did it thereafter influence the struggle?
In the early years of the war, Rome, leveraging its naval power, completely controlled the area between Italy, Sicily, and Spain, known as the Tyrrhenian and Sardinian Seas. The coastline from the Ebro to the Tiber was mostly supportive of her. In the fourth year, after the Battle of Cannae, Syracuse abandoned the Roman alliance, leading to a revolt that spread throughout Sicily, and Macedonia also formed an offensive alliance with Hannibal. These developments increased the necessary operations of the Roman fleet and strained its resources. What actions were taken regarding it, and how did it subsequently affect the conflict?
The indications are clear that Rome at no time ceased to control the Tyrrhenian Sea, for her squadrons passed unmolested from Italy to Spain. On the Spanish coast also she had full sway till the younger Scipio saw fit to lay up the fleet. In the Adriatic, a squadron and naval station were established at Brindisi to check Macedonia, which performed their task so well that not a soldier of the phalanxes ever set foot in Italy. "The want of a war fleet," says Mommsen, "paralyzed Philip in all his movements." Here the effect of Sea Power is not even a matter of inference.
The evidence clearly shows that Rome never lost control of the Tyrrhenian Sea, as its fleets moved freely between Italy and Spain. On the Spanish coast, Rome also maintained complete dominance until the younger Scipio decided to dock the fleet. In the Adriatic, a fleet and naval base were set up at Brindisi to counter Macedonia, which performed its role so effectively that not a single soldier from the phalanxes ever stepped foot in Italy. "The lack of a war fleet," says Mommsen, "hampered Philip in all his efforts." Here, the impact of Sea Power is obvious, with no need for speculation.
In Sicily, the struggle centred about Syracuse. The fleets of Carthage and Rome met there, but the superiority evidently lay with the latter; for though the Carthaginians at times succeeded in throwing supplies into the city, they avoided meeting the Roman fleet in battle. With Lilybæum, Palermo, and Messina in its hands, the latter was well based in the north coast of the island. Access by the south was [17]left open to the Carthaginians, and they were thus able to maintain the insurrection.
In Sicily, the conflict focused on Syracuse. The fleets of Carthage and Rome faced each other there, but it was clear that Rome had the upper hand; although the Carthaginians sometimes managed to bring supplies into the city, they avoided direct confrontations with the Roman fleet. With Lilybæum, Palermo, and Messina under its control, Rome was well-positioned on the northern coast of the island. The southern access was [17] open to the Carthaginians, allowing them to continue the uprising.
Putting these facts together, it is a reasonable inference, and supported by the whole tenor of the history, that the Roman sea power controlled the sea north of a line drawn from Tarragona in Spain to Lilybæum (the modern Marsala), at the west end of Sicily, thence round by the north side of the island through the straits of Messina down to Syracuse, and from there to Brindisi in the Adriatic. This control lasted, unshaken, throughout the war. It did not exclude maritime raids, large or small, such as have been spoken of; but it did forbid the sustained and secure communications of which Hannibal was in deadly need.
Putting these facts together, it's a reasonable conclusion, supported by the overall history, that Roman naval power dominated the waters north of a line drawn from Tarragona in Spain to Lilybæum (now Marsala), around the west coast of Sicily through the straits of Messina down to Syracuse, and then to Brindisi in the Adriatic. This control remained unchallenged throughout the war. While it didn't eliminate maritime raids, big or small, as mentioned before, it did prevent the sustained and secure communications that Hannibal desperately needed.
On the other hand, it seems equally plain that for the first ten years of the war the Roman fleet was not strong enough for sustained operations in the sea between Sicily and Carthage, nor indeed much to the south of the line indicated. When Hannibal started, he assigned such ships as he had to maintaining the communications between Spain and Africa, which the Romans did not then attempt to disturb.
On the other hand, it’s clear that for the first ten years of the war, the Roman fleet wasn’t strong enough for ongoing operations in the waters between Sicily and Carthage, or really much south of the line mentioned. When Hannibal set out, he allocated the ships he had to keep up communication between Spain and Africa, which the Romans didn’t try to interrupt at that time.
The Roman sea power, therefore, threw Macedonia wholly out of the war. It did not keep Carthage from maintaining a useful and most harassing diversion in Sicily; but it did prevent her sending troops, when they would have been most useful, to her great general in Italy. How was it as to Spain?
The Roman naval power completely pushed Macedonia out of the war. It didn’t stop Carthage from creating a significant and annoying distraction in Sicily; however, it did stop her from sending troops, when they would have been most needed, to her excellent general in Italy. What about Spain?
Spain was the region upon which the father of Hannibal and Hannibal himself had based their intended invasion of Italy. For eighteen years before this began they had occupied the country, extending and consolidating their power, both political and military, with rare sagacity. They had raised, and trained in local wars, a large and now veteran army. Upon his own departure, Hannibal intrusted the government to his younger brother, Hasdrubal, who preserved toward him to the end a loyalty and devotion which he had no reason to hope from the faction-cursed mother-city in Africa.
Spain was the region where Hannibal's father and Hannibal himself planned their invasion of Italy. For eighteen years before this started, they had occupied the area, building and strengthening their political and military power with impressive insight. They had raised and trained a large, battle-hardened army in local conflicts. Before leaving, Hannibal entrusted the leadership to his younger brother, Hasdrubal, who remained loyal and devoted to him until the end—loyalty he had no reason to expect from the faction-ridden mother city in Africa.
At the time of his starting, the Carthaginian power in [18]Spain was secured from Cadiz to the river Ebro. The region between this river and the Pyrenees was inhabited by tribes friendly to the Romans, but unable, in the absence of the latter, to oppose a successful resistance to Hannibal. He put them down, leaving eleven thousand soldiers under Hanno to keep military possession of the country, lest the Romans should establish themselves there, and thus disturb his communications with his base.
At the time he started, the Carthaginian power in [18]Spain was secured from Cadiz to the river Ebro. The area between this river and the Pyrenees was inhabited by tribes that were friendly to the Romans but, without their support, were unable to successfully resist Hannibal. He defeated them and left eleven thousand soldiers under Hanno to maintain control of the region, so the Romans wouldn’t establish a foothold there and disrupt his communications with his base.
Cnæus Scipio, however, arrived on the spot by sea the same year with twenty thousand men, defeated Hanno, and occupied both the coast and interior north of the Ebro. The Romans thus held ground by which they entirely closed the road between Hannibal and reinforcements from Hasdrubal, and whence they could attack the Carthaginian power in Spain; while their own communications with Italy, being by water, were secured by their naval supremacy. They made a naval base at Tarragona, confronting that of Hasdrubal at Cartagena, and then invaded the Carthaginian dominions. The war in Spain went on under the elder Scipios, seemingly a side issue, with varying fortune for seven years; at the end of which time Hasdrubal inflicted upon them a crushing defeat, the two brothers were killed, and the Carthaginians nearly succeeded in breaking through to the Pyrenees with reinforcements for Hannibal. The attempt, however, was checked for the moment; and before it could be renewed, the fall of Capua released twelve thousand veteran Romans, who were sent to Spain under Claudius Nero, a man of exceptional ability, to whom was due later the most decisive military movement made by any Roman general during the Second Punic War. This seasonable reinforcement, which again assured the shaken grip on Hasdrubal's line of march, came by sea,—a way which, though most rapid and easy, was closed to the Carthaginians by the Roman navy.
Cnæus Scipio arrived on the scene by sea that same year with twenty thousand men, defeated Hanno, and took control of both the coast and the interior north of the Ebro. The Romans then held territory that completely blocked the route between Hannibal and reinforcements from Hasdrubal, allowing them to threaten Carthaginian power in Spain while securing their own supply lines to Italy by sea thanks to their naval dominance. They established a naval base at Tarragona, facing Hasdrubal's base at Cartagena, and subsequently invaded Carthaginian lands. The war in Spain continued under the elder Scipios, seemingly a side issue, with mixed success for seven years; eventually, Hasdrubal dealt them a heavy defeat, resulting in the deaths of both brothers, and the Carthaginians almost succeeded in pushing through to the Pyrenees with reinforcements for Hannibal. However, that attempt was halted for the time being; before it could be tried again, the fall of Capua freed twelve thousand veteran Romans, who were dispatched to Spain under Claudius Nero, a highly skilled leader responsible for the most significant military maneuver by any Roman general during the Second Punic War. This timely reinforcement, which once again secured their tenuous hold on Hasdrubal's route, arrived by sea—a method that, although quick and easy, was inaccessible to the Carthaginians due to the Roman navy.
Two years later the younger Publius Scipio, celebrated afterward as Africanus, received the command in Spain, and captured Cartagena by a combined military and naval attack; [19]after which he took the most extraordinary step of breaking up his fleet and transferring the seamen to the army. Not contented to act merely as the "containing"[6] force against Hasdrubal by closing the passes of the Pyrenees, Scipio pushed forward into southern Spain, and fought a severe but indecisive battle on the Guadalquivir; after which Hasdrubal slipped away from him, hurried north, crossed the Pyrenees at their extreme west, and pressed on to Italy, where Hannibal's position was daily growing weaker, the natural waste of his army not being replaced.
Two years later, the younger Publius Scipio, later known as Africanus, took command in Spain and captured Cartagena through a combined military and naval attack; [19]after that, he took the remarkable step of breaking up his fleet and assigning the sailors to the army. Not satisfied with just acting as the "containing" force against Hasdrubal by blocking the passes of the Pyrenees, Scipio advanced into southern Spain and fought a tough but inconclusive battle on the Guadalquivir; afterward, Hasdrubal managed to escape from him, rushed north, crossed the Pyrenees at their furthest west, and continued on to Italy, where Hannibal's situation was becoming increasingly precarious due to the natural losses in his army not being replenished.
The war had lasted ten years, when Hasdrubal, having met little loss on the way, entered Italy at the north. The troops he brought, could they be safely united with those under the command of the unrivalled Hannibal, might give a decisive turn to the war, for Rome herself was nearly exhausted; the iron links which bound her own colonies and the allied States to her were strained to the utmost, and some had already snapped. But the military position of the two brothers was also perilous in the extreme. One being at the river Metaurus, the other in Apulia, two hundred miles apart, each was confronted by a superior enemy, and both these Roman armies were between their separated opponents. This false situation, as well as the long delay of Hasdrubal's coming, was due to the Roman control of the sea, which throughout the war limited the mutual support of the Carthaginian brothers to the route through Gaul. At the very time that Hasdrubal was making his long and dangerous circuit by land, Scipio had sent eleven thousand men from Spain by sea to reinforce the army opposed to him. The upshot was that messengers from Hasdrubal to Hannibal, having to pass over so wide a belt of hostile country, fell into the hands of Claudius Nero, commanding the southern Roman army, who thus learned the route which Hasdrubal intended to take. Nero correctly appreciated the situation, and, escaping the vigilance [20]of Hannibal, made a rapid march with eight thousand of his best troops to join the forces in the north. The junction being effected, the two consuls fell upon Hasdrubal in overwhelming numbers and destroyed his army; the Carthaginian leader himself falling in the battle. Hannibal's first news of the disaster was by the head of his brother being thrown into his camp. He is said to have exclaimed that Rome would now be mistress of the world; and the battle of Metaurus is generally accepted as decisive of the struggle between the two States.
The war had gone on for ten years when Hasdrubal, having suffered little loss on his journey, entered Italy from the north. The troops he brought, if they could be safely joined with those under the unmatched Hannibal, might change the course of the war, as Rome itself was nearly worn out; the tight grip it had on its colonies and allied states was stretched to the limit, and some had already broken away. However, the military situation for the two brothers was also extremely risky. One was at the river Metaurus, the other in Apulia, two hundred miles apart, each facing a stronger enemy, and both of these Roman armies were positioned between their separated foes. This precarious situation, along with Hasdrubal's long delay, was due to Roman control of the sea, which throughout the war restricted the mutual support of the Carthaginian brothers to the route through Gaul. While Hasdrubal was making his long and dangerous detour overland, Scipio had sent eleven thousand men from Spain by sea to reinforce the army opposing him. As a result, messengers from Hasdrubal to Hannibal, having to traverse a wide stretch of hostile territory, were captured by Claudius Nero, who commanded the southern Roman army, allowing him to discover Hasdrubal's intended route. Nero correctly assessed the situation and, avoiding Hannibal's watchful eye, quickly marched with eight thousand of his best troops to join the forces in the north. After reuniting, the two consuls attacked Hasdrubal with overwhelming numbers and destroyed his army, with the Carthaginian leader himself falling in the battle. Hannibal's first news of the disaster came when his brother's head was thrown into his camp. It's said he exclaimed that Rome would now be the ruler of the world; and the battle of Metaurus is widely regarded as the turning point in the conflict between the two states.
The military situation which finally resulted in the battle of the Metaurus and the triumph of Rome may be summed up as follows: To overthrow Rome it was necessary to attack her in Italy at the heart of her power, and shatter the strongly linked confederacy of which she was the head. This was the objective. To reach it, the Carthaginians needed a solid base of operations and a secure line of communications. The former was established in Spain by the genius of the great Barca family; the latter was never achieved. There were two lines possible,—the one direct by sea, the other circuitous through Gaul. The first was blocked by the Roman sea power, the second imperilled and finally intercepted through the occupation of northern Spain by the Roman army. This occupation was made possible through the control of the sea, which the Carthaginians never endangered. With respect to Hannibal and his base, therefore, Rome occupied two central positions, Rome itself and northern Spain, joined by an easy interior line of communications, the sea; by which mutual support was continually given.
The military situation that ultimately led to the battle of the Metaurus and Rome's victory can be summarized like this: To defeat Rome, it was essential to attack her in Italy, the center of her power, and break the strong alliance she led. This was the goal. To achieve it, the Carthaginians needed a solid base of operations and a reliable communication line. The base was established in Spain thanks to the brilliance of the great Barca family; however, the communication line was never secured. There were two possible routes—one direct by sea and the other indirect through Gaul. The first was blocked by Roman naval power, while the second was jeopardized and ultimately cut off by the Roman army's occupation of northern Spain. This occupation was made possible by the Romans' control of the sea, which the Carthaginians never threatened. Regarding Hannibal and his base, Rome held two key positions: Rome itself and northern Spain, connected by a straightforward internal line of communication—the sea—which allowed for ongoing mutual support.
Had the Mediterranean been a level desert of land, in which the Romans held strong mountain ranges in Corsica and Sardinia, fortified posts at Tarragona, Lilybæum, and Messina, the Italian coast-line nearly to Genoa, and allied fortresses in Marseilles and other points; had they also possessed an armed force capable by its character of traversing that desert at will, but in which their opponents were very inferior and therefore compelled to a great circuit in order to concentrate their [21]troops, the military situation would have been at once recognized, and no words would have been too strong to express the value and effect of that peculiar force. It would have been perceived, also, that the enemy's force of the same kind might, however inferior in strength, make an inroad, or raid, upon the territory thus held, might burn a village or waste a few miles of borderland, might even cut off a convoy at times, without, in a military sense, endangering the communications. Such predatory operations have been carried on in all ages by the weaker maritime belligerent, but they by no means warrant the inference, irreconcilable with the known facts, "that neither Rome nor Carthage could be said to have undisputed mastery of the sea," because "Roman fleets sometimes visited the coasts of Africa, and Carthaginian fleets in the same way appeared off the coast of Italy." In the case under consideration, the navy played the part of such a force upon the supposed desert; but as it acts on an element strange to most writers, as its members have been from time immemorial a strange race apart, without prophets of their own, neither themselves nor their calling understood, its immense determining influence upon the history of that era, and consequently upon the history of the world, has been overlooked. If the preceding argument is sound, it is as defective to omit sea power from the list of principal factors in the result, as it would be absurd to claim for it an exclusive influence.
If the Mediterranean had been a flat desert of land, where the Romans controlled strong mountain ranges in Corsica and Sardinia, fortified posts at Tarragona, Lilybæum, and Messina, the Italian coastline nearly up to Genoa, and allied fortresses in Marseille and other locations; and if they also had an armed force capable of crossing that desert freely, while their opponents were much weaker and forced to take a longer route to concentrate their [21]troops, the military situation would have been clearly understood, and no words would have been too strong to describe the significance and impact of that unique force. It would have also been recognized that the enemy’s similar force, although weaker, could launch raids into the territory held by the Romans, burning a village or damaging a few miles of border, and could even cut off a convoy from time to time, without endangering their communications in a military sense. These types of predatory actions have been carried out throughout history by the weaker maritime belligerent, but they do not support the claim, inconsistent with known facts, that “neither Rome nor Carthage could be said to have undisputed mastery of the sea,” because “Roman fleets occasionally visited the coasts of Africa, and Carthaginian fleets similarly appeared off the coast of Italy.” In this instance, the navy acted as such a force on the imagined desert; however, since it operates in an element unfamiliar to most writers, as its members have historically been a distinct race apart, without their own prophets, and neither they nor their role fully understood, its significant impact on the history of that time, and consequently on world history, has been overlooked. If the previous argument is valid, it is just as flawed to exclude sea power from the list of key factors in the outcome as it would be ridiculous to claim it had exclusive influence.
Instances such as have been cited, drawn from widely separated periods of time, both before and after that specially treated in this work, serve to illustrate the intrinsic interest of the subject, and the character of the lessons which history has to teach. As before observed, these come more often under the head of strategy than of tactics; they bear rather upon the conduct of campaigns than of battles, and hence are fraught with more lasting value. To quote a great authority in this connection, Jomini says: "Happening to be in Paris near the end of 1851, a distinguished person did me the honor to ask my opinion as to whether recent improvements in [22]firearms would cause any great modifications in the way of making war. I replied that they would probably have an influence upon the details of tactics, but that in great strategic operations and the grand combinations of battles, victory would, now as ever, result from the application of the principles which had led to the success of great generals in all ages; of Alexander and Cæsar, as well as of Frederick and Napoleon." This study has become more than ever important now to navies, because of the great and steady power of movement possessed by the modern steamer. The best-planned schemes might fail through stress of weather in the days of the galley and the sailing-ship; but this difficulty has almost disappeared. The principles which should direct great naval combinations have been applicable to all ages, and are deducible from history; but the power to carry them out with little regard to the weather is a recent gain.
Instances like the ones mentioned, taken from widely different time periods both before and after the specific one discussed in this work, illustrate the inherent interest of the subject and the valuable lessons history has to offer. As previously noted, these often fall more under strategy than tactics; they relate more to the management of campaigns than individual battles, which gives them greater lasting significance. To quote a respected source in this context, Jomini states: "While I was in Paris towards the end of 1851, a notable person asked for my thoughts on whether recent advancements in [22] firearms would lead to any significant changes in warfare. I replied that they would likely impact tactical details, but in major strategic operations and large-scale battle combinations, victory will, as always, come from applying the principles that have brought success to great generals throughout history, from Alexander and Caesar to Frederick and Napoleon." This study has become increasingly important for navies, due to the tremendous and consistent movement power of modern steamships. In the age of galleys and sailing ships, even the best-laid plans could fail due to bad weather; however, that issue has nearly vanished. The principles guiding significant naval operations have been relevant across all ages and can be drawn from history, but the ability to execute them with minimal concern for weather conditions is a recent development.
The definitions usually given of the word "strategy" confine it to military combinations embracing one or more fields of operations, either wholly distinct or mutually dependent, but always regarded as actual or immediate scenes of war. However this may be on shore, a recent French author is quite right in pointing out that such a definition is too narrow for naval strategy. "This," he says, "differs from military strategy in that it is as necessary in peace as in war. Indeed, in peace it may gain its most decisive victories by occupying in a country, either by purchase or treaty, excellent positions which would perhaps hardly be got by war. It learns to profit by all opportunities of settling on some chosen point of a coast, and to render definitive an occupation which at first was only transient." A generation that has seen England within ten years occupy successively Cyprus and Egypt, under terms and conditions on their face transient, but which have not yet led to the abandonment of the positions taken, can readily agree with this remark; which indeed receives constant illustration from the quiet persistency with which all the great sea powers are seeking position after position, less noted and less noteworthy than Cyprus and Egypt, in the different seas to which their people and their ships penetrate. [23]"Naval strategy has indeed for its end to found, support, and increase, as well in peace as in war, the sea power of a country;" and therefore its study has an interest and value for all citizens of a free country, but especially for those who are charged with its foreign and military relations.
The typical definitions of "strategy" limit it to military operations across one or more areas, whether completely separate or interconnected, and always seen as real or immediate battlefields. However, as a recent French author accurately points out, this definition is too narrow for naval strategy. "Naval strategy,” he says, “is just as essential in peace as it is in war. In fact, during peacetime, it may achieve the most significant victories by securing key positions in a country through purchase or treaty, which might not be possible through conflict. It learns to take advantage of opportunities to settle at a chosen coastal point and makes a temporary occupation permanent." A generation that has witnessed England successively occupy Cyprus and Egypt within a decade, under conditions that seemed temporary but which haven’t yet resulted in leaving those positions, can easily agree with this point. This idea is consistently illustrated by the steady determination with which all major naval powers are pursuing positions, often less recognized than Cyprus and Egypt, in the various seas their people and ships navigate. [23] "Naval strategy aims to establish, support, and enhance, both in peace and war, a country's sea power," making its study relevant and valuable for all citizens of a free nation, especially for those involved in its foreign and military affairs.
The general conditions that either are essential to or powerfully affect the greatness of a nation upon the sea will now be examined; after which a more particular consideration of the various maritime nations of Europe at the middle of the seventeenth century, where the historical survey begins, will serve at once to illustrate and give precision to the conclusions upon the general subject.
The basic conditions that are crucial to or significantly influence a nation's greatness at sea will now be looked at; after that, a closer look at the different maritime nations of Europe in the middle of the seventeenth century, where the historical overview starts, will help clarify and support the conclusions on the overall topic.
Note.—The brilliancy of Nelson's fame, dimming as it does that of all his contemporaries, and the implicit trust felt by England in him as the one man able to save her from the schemes of Napoleon, should not of course obscure the fact that only one portion of the field was, or could be, occupied by him. Napoleon's aim, in the campaign which ended at Trafalgar, was to unite in the West Indies the French fleets of Brest, Toulon, and Rochefort, together with a strong body of Spanish ships, thus forming an overwhelming force which he intended should return together to the English Channel and cover the crossing of the French army. He naturally expected that, with England's interests scattered all over the world, confusion and distraction would arise from ignorance of the destination of the French squadrons, and the English navy be drawn away from his objective point. The portion of the field committed to Nelson was the Mediterranean, where he watched the great arsenal of Toulon and the highways alike to the East and to the Atlantic. This was inferior in consequence to no other, and assumed additional importance in the eyes of Nelson from his conviction that the former attempts on Egypt would be renewed. Owing to this persuasion he took at first a false step, which delayed his pursuit of the Toulon fleet when it sailed under the command of Villeneuve; and the latter was further favored by a long continuance of fair winds, while the English had head winds. But while all this is true, while the failure of Napoleon's combinations must be attributed to the tenacious grip of the English blockade off Brest, as well as to Nelson's energetic pursuit of the Toulon fleet when it escaped to the West Indies and again on its hasty return to Europe, the latter is fairly entitled to the eminent distinction which history has accorded it, and which is asserted in the text. Nelson did not, indeed, fathom the intentions of Napoleon. This may have been owing, as some have said, to lack of insight; but it may be more simply laid to the usual disadvantage under which the [24]defence lies before the blow has fallen, of ignorance as to the point threatened by the offence. It is insight enough to fasten on the key of a situation; and this Nelson rightly saw was the fleet, not the station. Consequently, his action has afforded a striking instance of how tenacity of purpose and untiring energy in execution can repair a first mistake and baffle deeply laid plans. His Mediterranean command embraced many duties and cares; but amid and dominating them all, he saw clearly the Toulon fleet as the controlling factor there, and an important factor in any naval combination of the Emperor. Hence his attention was unwaveringly fixed upon it; so much so that he called it "his fleet," a phrase which has somewhat vexed the sensibilities of French critics. This simple and accurate view of the military situation strengthened him in taking the fearless resolution and bearing the immense responsibility of abandoning his station in order to follow "his fleet." Determined thus on a pursuit the undeniable wisdom of which should not obscure the greatness of mind that undertook it, he followed so vigorously as to reach Cadiz on his return a week before Villeneuve entered Ferrol, despite unavoidable delays arising from false information and uncertainty as to the enemy's movements. The same untiring ardor enabled him to bring up his own ships from Cadiz to Brest in time to make the fleet there superior to Villeneuve's, had the latter persisted in his attempt to reach the neighborhood. The English, very inferior in aggregate number of vessels to the allied fleets, were by this seasonable reinforcement of eight veteran ships put into the best possible position strategically, as will be pointed out in dealing with similar conditions in the war of the American Revolution. Their forces were united in one great fleet in the Bay of Biscay, interposed between the two divisions of the enemy in Brest and Ferrol, superior in number to either singly, and with a strong probability of being able to deal with one before the other could come up. This was due to able action all round on the part of the English authorities; but above all other factors in the result stands Nelson's single-minded pursuit of "his fleet."
Note.—The brilliance of Nelson's fame, which overshadows that of all his contemporaries, along with the deep trust England placed in him as the one person who could save her from Napoleon’s plans, shouldn't overshadow the fact that he could only occupy one part of the battlefield. Napoleon's goal in the campaign that climaxed at Trafalgar was to gather the French fleets from Brest, Toulon, and Rochefort, along with a strong group of Spanish ships in the West Indies, creating an overwhelming force that he intended to bring back to the English Channel to support the crossing of the French army. He naturally anticipated that, with British interests spread out across the globe, confusion and distraction would stem from uncertainty over where the French fleets were headed, pulling the British navy away from his target. The area monitored by Nelson was the Mediterranean, where he kept an eye on the significant naval base at Toulon and the routes both East and to the Atlantic. This role was just as crucial as any other and held even more significance for Nelson because he believed the previous attempts on Egypt would be repeated. Because of this belief, he initially made an error that delayed him from pursuing the Toulon fleet when it set sail under Villeneuve; the latter benefited from extended favorable winds, while the British faced headwinds. However, while it's true that the failure of Napoleon's plans must be attributed to the steadfast British blockade off Brest, as well as to Nelson's vigorous pursuit of the Toulon fleet when it fled to the West Indies and again during its hurried return to Europe, Nelson deserves the prominent recognition that history has given him, as noted in this text. Nelson did not fully grasp Napoleon's intentions. Some may argue this was due to a lack of insight; however, it could simply be attributed to the usual challenge that defenders face before an attack, which is the uncertainty about where the threat lies. It takes enough insight to identify the key element in a situation, and Nelson correctly recognized this key element as the navy, not the base. Thus, his actions illustrate how determination and relentless effort can fix an initial mistake and thwart well-planned strategies. His command of the Mediterranean involved many responsibilities, but through it all, he clearly identified the Toulon fleet as the crucial factor, one that significantly impacted any naval strategy the Emperor might have. Therefore, his focus remained firmly on it; so much so that he referred to it as "his fleet," a remark that somewhat irked French critics. This straightforward and accurate understanding of the military situation helped him make the bold decision to abandon his post in order to pursue "his fleet." With this determination to follow through, a choice whose undeniable wisdom should not overshadow the brilliance of his thinking, he pursued so fiercely that he arrived in Cadiz a week before Villeneuve reached Ferrol, despite unavoidable delays due to misinformation and uncertainty regarding the enemy's movements. This same relentless enthusiasm allowed him to bring his ships from Cadiz to Brest in time to ensure that the fleet there outnumbered Villeneuve's if the latter had persisted in attempting to reach the area. The British, significantly outnumbered compared to the allied fleets, were strategically positioned by this timely reinforcement of eight experienced ships, as will be highlighted in discussions about similar situations during the American Revolution. Their forces united in one substantial fleet in the Bay of Biscay, positioned between the two enemy divisions in Brest and Ferrol, were superior in number to either enemy division alone, with a strong likelihood of engaging one before the other could arrive. This outcome was thanks to impressive actions taken by British authorities; but above all, Nelson's focused pursuit of "his fleet" was the key factor in achieving this result.
This interesting series of strategic movements ended on the 14th of August, when Villeneuve, in despair of reaching Brest, headed for Cadiz, where he anchored on the 20th. As soon as Napoleon heard of this, after an outburst of rage against the admiral, he at once dictated the series of movements which resulted in Ulm and Austerlitz, abandoning his purposes against England. The battle of Trafalgar, fought October 21, was therefore separated by a space of two months from the extensive movements of which it was nevertheless the outcome. Isolated from them in point of time, it was none the less the seal of Nelson's genius, affixed later to the record he had made in the near past. With equal truth it is said that England was saved at Trafalgar, though the Emperor had then given up his intended invasion; the destruction there emphasized and sealed the strategic triumph which had noiselessly foiled Napoleon's plans.
This intriguing series of strategic maneuvers came to an end on August 14th, when Villeneuve, realizing he couldn't reach Brest, set his course for Cadiz, where he dropped anchor on the 20th. As soon as Napoleon found out, after a furious outburst against the admiral, he promptly dictated the movements that led to Ulm and Austerlitz, abandoning his plans against England. The Battle of Trafalgar, fought on October 21, was thus two months removed from the wide-ranging maneuvers that nevertheless led to it. While it was temporally isolated, it was nonetheless the definitive hallmark of Nelson's brilliance, later affixed to the record he had established in the recent past. It's equally true to say that England was saved at Trafalgar, even though the Emperor had already dropped his plans for invasion; the destruction there underscored and solidified the strategic victory that quietly thwarted Napoleon's ambitions.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Thus Hermocrates of Syracuse, advocating the policy of thwarting the Athenian expedition against his city (B.C. 413) by going boldly to meet it, and keeping on the flank of its line of advance, said: "As their advance must be slow, we shall have a thousand opportunities to attack them; but if they clear their ships for action and in a body bear down expeditiously upon us, they must ply hard at their oars, and when spent with toil we can fall upon them."
[1] So, Hermocrates of Syracuse, who supported the idea of stopping the Athenian attack on his city (BCE 413) by actively confronting it and staying alongside its path of advance, said: "Since their progress will be slow, we’ll have plenty of chances to strike; but if they prepare their ships for battle and come at us quickly as a group, they’ll have to row hard, and when they’re worn out from the effort we can launch our attack."
[2] The writer must guard himself from appearing to advocate elaborate tactical movements issuing in barren demonstrations. He believes that a fleet seeking a decisive result must close with its enemy, but not until some advantage has been obtained for the collision, which will usually be gained by manœuvring, and will fall to the best drilled and managed fleet. In truth, barren results have as often followed upon headlong, close encounters as upon the most timid tactical trifling.
[2] The writer needs to avoid seeming like he supports complex tactical moves that lead to pointless displays. He believes that a fleet aiming for a decisive outcome must engage the enemy, but only after gaining some advantage for the confrontation, which is usually achieved through maneuvering, and will go to the most well-trained and efficiently managed fleet. In reality, fruitless results have often followed intense close battles just as much as they have from overly cautious tactical play.
[3] A ship was said to have the weather-gage, or "the advantage of the wind," or "to be to windward," when the wind allowed her to steer for her opponent, and did not let the latter head straight for her. The extreme case was when the wind blew direct from one to the other; but there was a large space on either side of this line to which the term "weather-gage" applied. If the lee ship be taken as the centre of a circle, there were nearly three eighths of its area in which the other might be and still keep the advantage of the wind to a greater or less degree. Lee is the opposite of weather.
[3] A ship is said to have the weather-gage, or "the advantage of the wind," or "to be to windward," when the wind allows it to steer toward its opponent and prevents the opponent from heading straight for it. The extreme case occurs when the wind blows directly from one ship to the other; however, there's a large area on either side of this line where the term "weather-gage" applies. If the leeward ship is considered the center of a circle, nearly three-eighths of its area is where the other ship can be and still maintain some advantage of the wind. "Lee" refers to the side opposite of "weather."
[6] A "containing" force is one to which, in a military combination, is assigned the duty of stopping, or delaying the advance of a portion of the enemy, while the main effort of the army or armies is being exerted in a different quarter.
[6] A "containing" force is a unit that is tasked with stopping or slowing down part of the enemy while the main efforts of the army or armies are focused elsewhere.
CHAPTER I.ToC
Discussion of the Elements of Sea Power.
Discussion of the Elements of Sea Power.
The first and most obvious light in which the sea presents itself from the political and social point of view is that of a great highway; or better, perhaps, of a wide common, over which men may pass in all directions, but on which some well-worn paths show that controlling reasons have led them to choose certain lines of travel rather than others. These lines of travel are called trade routes; and the reasons which have determined them are to be sought in the history of the world.
The first and most obvious way to view the sea from a political and social perspective is as a major highway; or better yet, as an expansive commons that people can cross in all directions. However, certain well-established paths reveal that specific factors have influenced their travel choices. These paths are known as trade routes, and the reasons behind them can be found in the history of the world.
Notwithstanding all the familiar and unfamiliar dangers of the sea, both travel and traffic by water have always been easier and cheaper than by land. The commercial greatness of Holland was due not only to her shipping at sea, but also to the numerous tranquil water-ways which gave such cheap and easy access to her own interior and to that of Germany. This advantage of carriage by water over that by land was yet more marked in a period when roads were few and very bad, wars frequent and society unsettled, as was the case two hundred years ago. Sea traffic then went in peril of robbers, but was nevertheless safer and quicker than that by land. A Dutch writer of that time, estimating the chances of his country in a war with England, notices among other things that the water-ways of England failed to penetrate the country sufficiently; therefore, the roads being bad, goods from one part of the kingdom to the other must go by sea, and be exposed to capture by the way. As regards purely internal trade, this danger has generally disappeared at the present day. In most civilized countries, now, the destruction or disappearance of [26]the coasting trade would only be an inconvenience, although water transit is still the cheaper. Nevertheless, as late as the wars of the French Republic and the First Empire, those who are familiar with the history of the period, and the light naval literature that has grown up around it, know how constant is the mention of convoys stealing from point to point along the French coast, although the sea swarmed with English cruisers and there were good inland roads.
Despite all the familiar and unfamiliar dangers of the sea, traveling and shipping by water have always been easier and cheaper than by land. The commercial success of Holland was due not only to its shipping at sea but also to the many calm waterways that provided cheap and easy access to its own interior and to Germany. This advantage of water transport over land was even more pronounced at a time when roads were few and in poor condition, wars were frequent, and society was unstable, as was the case two hundred years ago. Sea traffic then faced the threat of robbers, yet it was still safer and faster than land transport. A Dutch writer from that time, considering his country's chances in a war with England, pointed out that England's waterways did not reach deep enough into the country; therefore, with poor roads, goods had to be moved by sea, exposing them to capture along the way. As for purely internal trade, this danger has largely disappeared today. In most civilized countries now, the loss or disruption of [26]the coastal trade would only be an inconvenience, although water transport remains cheaper. However, even during the wars of the French Republic and the First Empire, those familiar with the period's history and the naval literature that arose from it recognize how often convoys were noted moving along the French coast, even though the sea was filled with English cruisers and there were good inland roads.
Under modern conditions, however, home trade is but a part of the business of a country bordering on the sea. Foreign necessaries or luxuries must be brought to its ports, either in its own or in foreign ships, which will return, bearing in exchange the products of the country, whether they be the fruits of the earth or the works of men's hands; and it is the wish of every nation that this shipping business should be done by its own vessels. The ships that thus sail to and fro must have secure ports to which to return, and must, as far as possible, be followed by the protection of their country throughout the voyage.
Under modern conditions, though, domestic trade is just one part of the economy for a country located by the sea. Foreign goods, whether necessities or luxuries, need to be brought to its ports, either on its own ships or on foreign vessels, which will return with the country’s products, whether they are agricultural goods or manufactured items. Every nation desires for this shipping to be handled by its own vessels. The ships that travel back and forth need to have safe ports to return to and should, as much as possible, be protected by their country for the entire journey.
This protection in time of war must be extended by armed shipping. The necessity of a navy, in the restricted sense of the word, springs, therefore, from the existence of a peaceful shipping, and disappears with it, except in the case of a nation which has aggressive tendencies, and keeps up a navy merely as a branch of the military establishment. As the United States has at present no aggressive purposes, and as its merchant service has disappeared, the dwindling of the armed fleet and general lack of interest in it are strictly logical consequences. When for any reason sea trade is again found to pay, a large enough shipping interest will reappear to compel the revival of the war fleet. It is possible that when a canal route through the Central-American Isthmus is seen to be a near certainty, the aggressive impulse may be strong enough to lead to the same result. This is doubtful, however, because a peaceful, gain-loving nation is not far-sighted, and far-sightedness is needed for adequate military preparation, especially in these days.
This protection during wartime needs to be supported by armed shipping. The need for a navy, in the strict sense, arises from the presence of peaceful shipping and vanishes when it does, unless a nation has aggressive tendencies and maintains a navy simply as part of its military forces. Since the United States currently has no aggressive intentions and its merchant shipping has disappeared, the decline of the armed fleet and the general disinterest in it are logical outcomes. If sea trade becomes profitable again for any reason, a significant shipping industry will emerge to demand the revival of the war fleet. It's possible that if a canal route through the Central American Isthmus becomes a reality, the aggressive impulse might be strong enough to bring about the same result. However, this is uncertain because a peaceful, profit-seeking nation tends to lack long-term vision, and that foresight is essential for proper military readiness, especially today.
[27]As a nation, with its unarmed and armed shipping, launches forth from its own shores, the need is soon felt of points upon which the ships can rely for peaceful trading, for refuge and supplies. In the present day friendly, though foreign, ports are to be found all over the world; and their shelter is enough while peace prevails. It was not always so, nor does peace always endure, though the United States have been favored by so long a continuance of it. In earlier times the merchant seaman, seeking for trade in new and unexplored regions, made his gains at risk of life and liberty from suspicious or hostile nations, and was under great delays in collecting a full and profitable freight. He therefore intuitively sought at the far end of his trade route one or more stations, to be given to him by force or favor, where he could fix himself or his agents in reasonable security, where his ships could lie in safety, and where the merchantable products of the land could be continually collecting, awaiting the arrival of the home fleet, which should carry them to the mother-country. As there was immense gain, as well as much risk, in these early voyages, such establishments naturally multiplied and grew until they became colonies; whose ultimate development and success depended upon the genius and policy of the nation from which they sprang, and form a very great part of the history, and particularly of the sea history, of the world. All colonies had not the simple and natural birth and growth above described. Many were more formal, and purely political, in their conception and founding, the act of the rulers of the people rather than of private individuals; but the trading-station with its after expansion, the work simply of the adventurer seeking gain, was in its reasons and essence the same as the elaborately organized and chartered colony. In both cases the mother-country had won a foothold in a foreign land, seeking a new outlet for what it had to sell, a new sphere for its shipping, more employment for its people, more comfort and wealth for itself.
[27]As a nation, with its unarmed and armed ships, sets sail from its shores, there quickly arises a need for reliable places to support peaceful trade, provide refuge, and offer supplies. Nowadays, friendly foreign ports can be found all over the world, and they serve well as long as peace lasts. It hasn’t always been this way, nor does peace last forever, even though the United States has enjoyed a long period of it. In earlier times, merchant sailors in search of trade in new and uncharted territories risked their lives and freedoms due to suspicion or hostility from other nations, often facing long delays in gathering a full and profitable cargo. Thus, they instinctively looked for one or more safe spots at the end of their trade routes, whether obtained through force or favor, where they could settle themselves or their agents securely, where their ships could dock safely, and where local goods could be continually collected in anticipation of the home fleet's arrival to take them back to the mother country. Due to the significant profits and considerable risks involved in these early voyages, such establishments naturally multiplied and evolved into colonies, whose eventual success depended on the vision and policies of their parent nation, forming a significant part of history, especially maritime history, worldwide. Not all colonies had the straightforward and natural development described above. Many were established more formally and politically, as acts of rulers rather than private individuals; however, trading stations that later expanded—driven solely by adventurers seeking profit—were, in their essence and reasoning, similar to the more structured and chartered colonies. In both cases, the mother country sought to secure a foothold in a foreign land, looking for new outlets for its goods, new opportunities for its shipping, increased employment for its people, and greater comfort and wealth for itself.
The needs of commerce, however, were not all provided for when safety had been secured at the far end of the road. [28]The voyages were long and dangerous, the seas often beset with enemies. In the most active days of colonizing there prevailed on the sea a lawlessness the very memory of which is now almost lost, and the days of settled peace between maritime nations were few and far between. Thus arose the demand for stations along the road, like the Cape of Good Hope, St. Helena, and Mauritius, not primarily for trade, but for defence and war; the demand for the possession of posts like Gibraltar, Malta, Louisburg, at the entrance of the Gulf of St. Lawrence,—posts whose value was chiefly strategic, though not necessarily wholly so. Colonies and colonial posts were sometimes commercial, sometimes military in their character; and it was exceptional that the same position was equally important in both points of view, as New York was.
The needs of commerce, however, weren't fully addressed even after safety was secured at the far end of the road. [28]The journeys were long and perilous, with the seas often filled with enemies. During the height of colonization, there was a lawlessness at sea that is now almost forgotten, and the periods of lasting peace between maritime nations were rare. This led to a demand for outposts along the route, like the Cape of Good Hope, St. Helena, and Mauritius, not mainly for trade, but for defense and warfare; the need for control of places like Gibraltar, Malta, and Louisburg, at the entrance of the Gulf of St. Lawrence—locations whose value was primarily strategic, though not exclusively so. Colonies and colonial outposts sometimes had commercial uses, sometimes military; and it was unusual for a single location to be equally important for both purposes, as New York was.
In these three things—production, with the necessity of exchanging products, shipping, whereby the exchange is carried on, and colonies, which facilitate and enlarge the operations of shipping and tend to protect it by multiplying points of safety—is to be found the key to much of the history, as well as of the policy, of nations bordering upon the sea. The policy has varied both with the spirit of the age and with the character and clear-sightedness of the rulers; but the history of the seaboard nations has been less determined by the shrewdness and foresight of governments than by conditions of position, extent, configuration, number and character of their people,—by what are called, in a word, natural conditions. It must however be admitted, and will be seen, that the wise or unwise action of individual men has at certain periods had a great modifying influence upon the growth of sea power in the broad sense, which includes not only the military strength afloat, that rules the sea or any part of it by force of arms, but also the peaceful commerce and shipping from which alone a military fleet naturally and healthfully springs, and on which it securely rests.
In these three aspects—production, which requires exchanging goods; shipping, through which this exchange occurs; and colonies, which support and expand shipping operations and offer protection by creating multiple safe points—lies the key to much of the history and policy of nations along the coast. The policy has changed with the times and the vision and insight of leaders; however, the history of coastal nations has been shaped more by their geographical conditions, size, layout, and the nature of their populations—what we refer to as natural conditions—than by the wisdom or foresight of their governments. It must be acknowledged, and it will be evident, that the actions of individuals, wise or unwise, have significantly influenced the development of sea power over time, which encompasses not just the military strength at sea that enforces control through force, but also the peaceful trade and shipping upon which a military fleet naturally and robustly depends and relies.
The principal conditions affecting the sea power of nations may be enumerated as follows: I. Geographical Position. II. Physical Conformation, including, as connected therewith, [29]natural productions and climate. III. Extent of Territory. IV. Number of Population. V. Character of the People. VI. Character of the Government, including therein the national institutions.
The main factors that influence a nation’s sea power can be listed as follows: I. Geographical Location. II. Physical Features, which also includes [29]natural resources and climate. III. Size of Territory. IV. Population Size. V. Nature of the People. VI. Nature of the Government, which includes national institutions.
I. Geographical Position.—It may be pointed out, in the first place, that if a nation be so situated that it is neither forced to defend itself by land nor induced to seek extension of its territory by way of the land, it has, by the very unity of its aim directed upon the sea, an advantage as compared with a people one of whose boundaries is continental. This has been a great advantage to England over both France and Holland as a sea power. The strength of the latter was early exhausted by the necessity of keeping up a large army and carrying on expensive wars to preserve her independence; while the policy of France was constantly diverted, sometimes wisely and sometimes most foolishly, from the sea to projects of continental extension. These military efforts expended wealth; whereas a wiser and consistent use of her geographical position would have added to it.
I. Geographical Position.—First of all, it should be noted that if a nation is positioned in such a way that it doesn’t need to defend itself by land and isn’t driven to expand its territory through land, it has an advantage due to its focus on the sea, compared to a nation with continental boundaries. This has significantly benefited England over both France and Holland as a sea power. France and Holland had their strength depleted early on by the need to maintain a large army and engage in costly wars to maintain their independence, while France's focus often shifted, sometimes wisely and sometimes very foolishly, from naval matters to continental expansion projects. These military efforts drained resources; meanwhile, a smarter and more consistent use of their geographical position could have increased their wealth.
The geographical position may be such as of itself to promote a concentration, or to necessitate a dispersion, of the naval forces. Here again the British Islands have an advantage over France. The position of the latter, touching the Mediterranean as well as the ocean, while it has its advantages, is on the whole a source of military weakness at sea. The eastern and western French fleets have only been able to unite after passing through the Straits of Gibraltar, in attempting which they have often risked and sometimes suffered loss. The position of the United States upon the two oceans would be either a source of great weakness or a cause of enormous expense, had it a large sea commerce on both coasts.
The geographical location can either help concentrate naval forces or require them to spread out. In this respect, the British Isles have an edge over France. While France's position, being near both the Mediterranean and the ocean, has its benefits, it generally creates a military disadvantage at sea. The eastern and western French fleets can only come together after navigating through the Straits of Gibraltar, a journey that has often risked losses. The United States' location on two oceans could either be a significant weakness or lead to enormous costs if it had a large maritime trade on both coasts.
England, by her immense colonial empire, has sacrificed much of this advantage of concentration of force around her own shores; but the sacrifice was wisely made, for the gain was greater than the loss, as the event proved. With the growth of her colonial system her war fleets also grew, but [30]her merchant shipping and wealth grew yet faster. Still, in the wars of the American Revolution, and of the French Republic and Empire, to use the strong expression of a French author, "England, despite the immense development of her navy, seemed ever, in the midst of riches, to feel all the embarrassment of poverty." The might of England was sufficient to keep alive the heart and the members; whereas the equally extensive colonial empire of Spain, through her maritime weakness, but offered so many points for insult and injury.
England, with her vast colonial empire, has given up a lot of the benefit of having a strong concentration of force around her own coastlines; however, this sacrifice was a smart move because the gain was greater than the loss, as history showed. As her colonial system expanded, her naval fleets grew as well, but [30] her merchant shipping and wealth increased even more rapidly. Still, during the wars of the American Revolution and the French Republic and Empire, in the words of a French writer, "England, despite the huge growth of her navy, always seemed, amid her riches, to feel the strain of poverty." England's strength was enough to keep her core and workforce alive, while Spain’s equally large colonial empire, due to its maritime weakness, only presented many opportunities for insult and injury.
The geographical position of a country may not only favor the concentration of its forces, but give the further strategic advantage of a central position and a good base for hostile operations against its probable enemies. This again is the case with England; on the one hand she faces Holland and the northern powers, on the other France and the Atlantic. When threatened with a coalition between France and the naval powers of the North Sea and the Baltic, as she at times was, her fleets in the Downs and in the Channel, and even that off Brest, occupied interior positions, and thus were readily able to interpose their united force against either one of the enemies which should seek to pass through the Channel to effect a junction with its ally. On either side, also, Nature gave her better ports and a safer coast to approach. Formerly this was a very serious element in the passage through the Channel; but of late, steam and the improvement of her harbors have lessened the disadvantage under which France once labored. In the days of sailing-ships, the English fleet operated against Brest making its base at Torbay and Plymouth. The plan was simply this: in easterly or moderate weather the blockading fleet kept its position without difficulty; but in westerly gales, when too severe, they bore up for English ports, knowing that the French fleet could not get out till the wind shifted, which equally served to bring them back to their station.
The geographical position of a country can not only help gather its forces but also provide a strategic advantage of being centrally located and having a solid base for attacks against its likely enemies. This applies to England as well; on one side, it faces Holland and the northern powers, and on the other, France and the Atlantic. When faced with a potential alliance between France and the naval powers of the North Sea and the Baltic, as has happened at times, its fleets in the Downs and the Channel, and even those near Brest, held internal positions, allowing them to easily unite their forces against either enemy trying to pass through the Channel to join its ally. Additionally, Nature provided better ports and a safer coast on both sides for England to approach. In the past, this was a significant factor in crossing the Channel; however, recently, steam power and improved harbors have reduced the disadvantage France once had. During the era of sailing ships, the English fleet operated against Brest using Torbay and Plymouth as its base. The strategy was straightforward: in easterly or moderate weather, the blockading fleet maintained its position without issue; but in severe westerly gales, they would head for English ports, knowing that the French fleet couldn’t leave until the wind changed, which also helped them return to their station.
The advantage of geographical nearness to an enemy, or to the object of attack, is nowhere more apparent than in that [31]form of warfare which has lately received the name of commerce-destroying, which the French call guerre de course. This operation of war, being directed against peaceful merchant vessels which are usually defenceless, calls for ships of small military force. Such ships, having little power to defend themselves, need a refuge or point of support near at hand; which will be found either in certain parts of the sea controlled by the fighting ships of their country, or in friendly harbors. The latter give the strongest support, because they are always in the same place, and the approaches to them are more familiar to the commerce-destroyer than to his enemy. The nearness of France to England has thus greatly facilitated her guerre de course directed against the latter. Having ports on the North Sea, on the Channel, and on the Atlantic, her cruisers started from points near the focus of English trade, both coming and going. The distance of these ports from each other, disadvantageous for regular military combinations, is an advantage for this irregular secondary operation; for the essence of the one is concentration of effort, whereas for commerce-destroying diffusion of effort is the rule. Commerce-destroyers scatter, that they may see and seize more prey. These truths receive illustration from the history of the great French privateers, whose bases and scenes of action were largely on the Channel and North Sea, or else were found in distant colonial regions, where islands like Guadaloupe and Martinique afforded similar near refuge. The necessity of renewing coal makes the cruiser of the present day even more dependent than of old on his port. Public opinion in the United States has great faith in war directed against an enemy's commerce; but it must be remembered that the Republic has no ports very near the great centres of trade abroad. Her geographical position is therefore singularly disadvantageous for carrying on successful commerce-destroying, unless she find bases in the ports of an ally.
The benefit of being geographically close to an enemy or the target of an attack is especially clear in a form of warfare recently termed commerce-destroying, known in French as *guerre de course*. This military action targets peaceful merchant ships, which are typically defenseless, requiring vessels with minimal military capability. These ships, having limited ability to protect themselves, need a nearby refuge or support point; this can be found in certain areas of the sea patrolled by their country's warships or in friendly ports. The latter offers the strongest support because they are always in the same location, and the routes to them are more familiar to commerce-destroyers than to their adversaries. Consequently, France’s proximity to England has greatly aided its *guerre de course* against the latter. With ports in the North Sea, the Channel, and the Atlantic, French cruisers launched their attacks from locations close to the heart of English trade, both inbound and outbound. While the distance between these ports may be a disadvantage for regular military operations, it works to the benefit of this irregular secondary operation; in regular military tactics, the focus is on concentrating effort, whereas in commerce-destroying, spreading out is key. Commerce-destroyers disperse to see and capture more targets. These ideas are illustrated by the history of the notable French privateers, whose bases and operations were mainly in the Channel and North Sea, or were located in far-off colonial areas where islands like Guadeloupe and Martinique provided similar nearby refuge. The need for refueling coal makes modern cruisers even more reliant on their ports than in the past. Public opinion in the United States strongly supports warfare aimed at disrupting an enemy's commerce; however, it should be noted that the Republic does not have ports situated close to major international trade centers. Thus, its geographical position is particularly disadvantageous for effective commerce-destroying, unless it can establish bases in allied ports.
If, in addition to facility for offence, Nature has so placed a country that it has easy access to the high sea itself, while at [32]the same time it controls one of the great thoroughfares of the world's traffic, it is evident that the strategic value of its position is very high. Such again is, and to a greater degree was, the position of England. The trade of Holland, Sweden, Russia, Denmark, and that which went up the great rivers to the interior of Germany, had to pass through the Channel close by her doors; for sailing-ships hugged the English coast. This northern trade had, moreover, a peculiar bearing upon sea power; for naval stores, as they are commonly called, were mainly drawn from the Baltic countries.
If, in addition to having opportunities for offense, a country is positioned by nature in a way that it has easy access to the open sea while also controlling one of the major routes of global trade, it’s clear that its strategic position is very valuable. This was definitely the case for England, even more so in the past. The trade from Holland, Sweden, Russia, Denmark, and the goods that traveled up the major rivers to the heart of Germany had to go through the Channel right at her doorstep; sailing ships tended to stay close to the English coast. This northern trade also had a unique impact on naval power because most naval supplies primarily came from the Baltic countries.
But for the loss of Gibraltar, the position of Spain would have been closely analogous to that of England. Looking at once upon the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, with Cadiz on the one side and Cartagena on the other, the trade to the Levant must have passed under her hands, and that round the Cape of Good Hope not far from her doors. But Gibraltar not only deprived her of the control of the Straits, it also imposed an obstacle to the easy junction of the two divisions of her fleet.
But if it weren't for the loss of Gibraltar, Spain's situation would have been very similar to England's. With access to both the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, having Cadiz on one side and Cartagena on the other, the trade to the Levant would have been under her control, and the trade around the Cape of Good Hope would have been just outside her doors. However, Gibraltar not only took away her control of the Straits, but it also created a barrier to easily connect the two parts of her fleet.
At the present day, looking only at the geographical position of Italy, and not at the other conditions affecting her sea power, it would seem that with her extensive sea-coast and good ports she is very well placed for exerting a decisive influence on the trade route to the Levant and by the Isthmus of Suez. This is true in a degree, and would be much more so did Italy now hold all the islands naturally Italian; but with Malta in the hands of England, and Corsica in those of France, the advantages of her geographical position are largely neutralized. From race affinities and situation those two islands are as legitimately objects of desire to Italy as Gibraltar is to Spain. If the Adriatic were a great highway of commerce, Italy's position would be still more influential. These defects in her geographical completeness, combined with other causes injurious to a full and secure development of sea power, make it more than doubtful whether Italy can for some time be in the front rank among the sea nations.
Today, if we only consider Italy’s geographical location without taking into account other factors affecting its maritime power, it appears that with its long coastline and good ports, Italy is well-positioned to play a key role in the trade routes to the Levant and via the Suez Canal. This is somewhat true, and it would be even more accurate if Italy controlled all the islands that naturally belong to it; however, with Malta under British control and Corsica under French control, the benefits of Italy’s location are significantly diminished. Due to ethnic ties and positioning, those two islands are just as much Italy’s rightful targets as Gibraltar is for Spain. If the Adriatic Sea were a major trade route, Italy's position would be even more advantageous. These shortcomings in Italy’s geographical holdings, combined with other factors that hinder the full and secure development of its maritime power, make it uncertain whether Italy can be among the top sea nations for some time.
As the aim here is not an exhaustive discussion, but merely [33]an attempt to show, by illustration, how vitally the situation of a country may affect its career upon the sea, this division of the subject may be dismissed for the present; the more so as instances which will further bring out its importance will continually recur in the historical treatment. Two remarks, however, are here appropriate.
As the goal here isn't to have a detailed discussion, but simply [33]to demonstrate, through examples, how significantly a country's situation can influence its maritime journey, we can set aside this part for now; especially since examples that highlight its importance will keep appearing in the historical analysis. However, two comments are relevant here.
Circumstances have caused the Mediterranean Sea to play a greater part in the history of the world, both in a commercial and a military point of view, than any other sheet of water of the same size. Nation after nation has striven to control it, and the strife still goes on. Therefore a study of the conditions upon which preponderance in its waters has rested, and now rests, and of the relative military values of different points upon its coasts, will be more instructive than the same amount of effort expended in another field. Furthermore, it has at the present time a very marked analogy in many respects to the Caribbean Sea,—an analogy which will be still closer if a Panama canal-route ever be completed. A study of the strategic conditions of the Mediterranean, which have received ample illustration, will be an excellent prelude to a similar study of the Caribbean, which has comparatively little history.
Circumstances have led the Mediterranean Sea to play a more significant role in world history, both commercially and militarily, than any other body of water of similar size. Nation after nation has fought to control it, and the conflict continues. Therefore, examining the factors that have determined dominance in its waters, both historically and currently, along with the military significance of various locations along its coasts, will be more enlightening than investing the same effort in another area. Additionally, the Mediterranean currently shares many similarities with the Caribbean Sea—similarities that will become even more pronounced if a Panama canal route is completed. An analysis of the strategic conditions of the Mediterranean, which has been well-documented, will serve as an excellent introduction to a similar analysis of the Caribbean, which has relatively little historical context.
The second remark bears upon the geographical position of the United States relatively to a Central-American canal. If one be made, and fulfil the hopes of its builders, the Caribbean will be changed from a terminus, and place of local traffic, or at best a broken and imperfect line of travel, as it now is, into one of the great highways of the world. Along this path a great commerce will travel, bringing the interests of the other great nations, the European nations, close along our shores, as they have never been before. With this it will not be so easy as heretofore to stand aloof from international complications. The position of the United States with reference to this route will resemble that of England to the Channel, and of the Mediterranean countries to the Suez route. As regards influence and control over it, depending upon geographical position, it is of course plain that the centre of the national [34]power, the permanent base,[7] is much nearer than that of other great nations. The positions now or hereafter occupied by them on island or mainland, however strong, will be but outposts of their power; while in all the raw materials of military strength no nation is superior to the United States. She is, however, weak in a confessed unpreparedness for war; and her geographical nearness to the point of contention loses some of its value by the character of the Gulf coast, which is deficient in ports combining security from an enemy with facility for repairing war-ships of the first class, without which ships no country can pretend to control any part of the sea. In case of a contest for supremacy in the Caribbean, it seems evident from the depth of the South Pass of the Mississippi, the nearness of New Orleans, and the advantages of the Mississippi Valley for water transit, that the main effort of the country must pour down that valley, and its permanent base of operations be found there. The defence of the entrance to the Mississippi, however, presents peculiar difficulties; while the only two rival ports, Key West and Pensacola, have too little depth of water, and are much less advantageously placed with reference to the resources of the country. To get the full benefit of superior geographical position, these defects must be overcome. Furthermore, as her distance from the Isthmus, though relatively less, is still considerable, the United States will have to obtain in the Caribbean stations fit for contingent, or secondary, bases of operations; which by their natural advantages, susceptibility of defence, and nearness to the central strategic issue, will enable her fleets to remain as near the scene as any opponent. With ingress and egress from the Mississippi sufficiently protected, with such outposts in her hands, and with the communications between them and the home base secured, in short, with proper military preparation, for which she has all necessary means, the preponderance of the United States on this field [35]follows, from her geographical position and her power, with mathematical certainty.
The second remark relates to the geographical position of the United States in connection with a Central American canal. If one is built and meets the expectations of its creators, the Caribbean will transform from a terminus and a place for local traffic, or at best a fragmented and incomplete route for travel, into one of the major trade routes of the world. This new path will facilitate significant commerce, bringing the interests of other major nations, particularly European countries, closer to our shores than ever before. With this development, it will become much harder to stay detached from international issues. The position of the United States in relation to this route will be similar to that of England regarding the Channel and the Mediterranean nations concerning the Suez route. In terms of influence and control over it, due to geographical factors, it is clear that the center of national power, the permanent base, is much closer than that of other great nations. The positions they hold, now or in the future, on islands or the mainland—regardless of their strength—will just be outposts of their power, while no nation surpasses the United States in essential military resources. However, it is weak due to a recognized lack of preparedness for war, and its geographical proximity to the contested area is somewhat less valuable because of the Gulf coast's limitations, which lacks ports that offer both security from enemies and the ability to repair first-class warships—essential for any country seeking to control a portion of the sea. In a struggle for dominance in the Caribbean, it seems evident, considering the depth of the South Pass of the Mississippi, the proximity of New Orleans, and the benefits of the Mississippi Valley for water transport, that the primary effort of the country must focus on that valley, establishing its main operational base there. Defending the entrance to the Mississippi, however, poses specific challenges, while the only two competing ports, Key West and Pensacola, lack sufficient water depth and are much less favorably located regarding the country's resources. To fully utilize a superior geographical position, these issues must be resolved. Furthermore, as its distance from the Isthmus, while relatively shorter, is still significant, the United States will need to secure stations in the Caribbean suitable for potential secondary bases of operations, which, given their natural advantages, ease of defense, and proximity to the central strategic issue, will allow its fleets to remain as close to the action as any rival. With adequate protection for ingress and egress from the Mississippi, with such outposts under its control, and with reliable communications between them and the main base, in short, with proper military readiness—which the U.S. has all the necessary resources for—its dominance in this area follows, based on its geographical advantage and power, with mathematical certainty.
II. Physical Conformation.—The peculiar features of the Gulf coast, just alluded to, come properly under the head of Physical Conformation of a country, which is placed second for discussion among the conditions which affect the development of sea power.
II. Physical Conformation.—The unique characteristics of the Gulf Coast, as previously mentioned, fall under the category of Physical Conformation of a region, which is discussed second among the factors that influence the growth of sea power.
The seaboard of a country is one of its frontiers; and the easier the access offered by the frontier to the region beyond, in this case the sea, the greater will be the tendency of a people toward intercourse with the rest of the world by it. If a country be imagined having a long seaboard, but entirely without a harbor, such a country can have no sea trade of its own, no shipping, no navy. This was practically the case with Belgium when it was a Spanish and an Austrian province. The Dutch, in 1648, as a condition of peace after a successful war, exacted that the Scheldt should be closed to sea commerce. This closed the harbor of Antwerp and transferred the sea trade of Belgium to Holland. The Spanish Netherlands ceased to be a sea power.
The coastline of a country is one of its borders; and the easier this border allows access to the area beyond, in this case the sea, the more likely the people will engage with the rest of the world through it. If we imagine a country with a long coastline but no harbors, that country would have no sea trade, no shipping fleet, and no navy. This was essentially the situation with Belgium when it was under Spanish and Austrian rule. In 1648, the Dutch, as a condition for peace after a successful war, demanded that the Scheldt River be closed to sea commerce. This effectively shut down the harbor of Antwerp and shifted Belgium's sea trade to Holland. The Spanish Netherlands ceased to be a maritime power.
Numerous and deep harbors are a source of strength and wealth, and doubly so if they are the outlets of navigable streams, which facilitate the concentration in them of a country's internal trade; but by their very accessibility they become a source of weakness in war, if not properly defended. The Dutch in 1667 found little difficulty in ascending the Thames and burning a large fraction of the English navy within sight of London; whereas a few years later the combined fleets of England and France, when attempting a landing in Holland, were foiled by the difficulties of the coast as much as by the valor of the Dutch fleet. In 1778 the harbor of New York, and with it undisputed control of the Hudson River, would have been lost to the English, who were caught at disadvantage, but for the hesitancy of the French admiral. With that control, New England would have been restored to close and safe communication with New York, New Jersey, [36]and Pennsylvania; and this blow, following so closely on Burgoyne's disaster of the year before, would probably have led the English to make an earlier peace. The Mississippi is a mighty source of wealth and strength to the United States; but the feeble defences of its mouth and the number of its subsidiary streams penetrating the country made it a weakness and source of disaster to the Southern Confederacy. And lastly, in 1814, the occupation of the Chesapeake and the destruction of Washington gave a sharp lesson of the dangers incurred through the noblest water-ways, if their approaches be undefended; a lesson recent enough to be easily recalled, but which, from the present appearance of the coast defences, seems to be yet more easily forgotten. Nor should it be thought that conditions have changed; circumstances and details of offence and defence have been modified, in these days as before, but the great conditions remain the same.
Many deep harbors are a source of strength and wealth, especially if they connect to navigable rivers, making it easier to concentrate a country's internal trade. However, their accessibility can also create vulnerabilities during wars if they're not well defended. In 1667, the Dutch had little trouble sailing up the Thames and destroying a significant portion of the English navy right in view of London. Yet a few years later, when the combined fleets of England and France tried to land in Holland, they struggled as much with the challenging coast as with the bravery of the Dutch fleet. In 1778, the English were close to losing the harbor of New York and control of the Hudson River, which would have put them at a disadvantage, if not for the French admiral's hesitation. If they had lost that control, New England would have quickly regained safe communication with New York, New Jersey, [36]and Pennsylvania, and this setback, following Burgoyne's defeat the year before, might have pushed the English to seek peace sooner. The Mississippi River is a tremendous source of wealth and strength for the United States, but its weak defenses and the many smaller rivers flowing into it were a liability for the Southern Confederacy. Lastly, in 1814, the occupation of the Chesapeake and the burning of Washington served as a stark reminder of the risks associated with major waterways if their access points are unprotected—a lesson that feels relevant today, despite the current state of coastal defenses suggesting it's easily forgotten. Conditions haven't changed much; while the specifics of attacking and defending have evolved, the fundamental challenges remain the same.
Before and during the great Napoleonic wars, France had no port for ships-of-the-line east of Brest. How great the advantage to England, which in the same stretch has two great arsenals, at Plymouth and at Portsmouth, besides other harbors of refuge and supply. This defect of conformation has since been remedied by the works at Cherbourg.
Before and during the Napoleonic Wars, France had no port for ships-of-the-line east of Brest. This gave England a significant advantage, as it had two major arsenals in that area, at Plymouth and Portsmouth, along with other safe harbors for refuge and supplies. This flaw in geography has since been addressed by the developments at Cherbourg.
Besides the contour of the coast, involving easy access to the sea, there are other physical conditions which lead people to the sea or turn them from it. Although France was deficient in military ports on the Channel, she had both there and on the ocean, as well as in the Mediterranean, excellent harbors, favorably situated for trade abroad, and at the outlet of large rivers, which would foster internal traffic. But when Richelieu had put an end to civil war, Frenchmen did not take to the sea with the eagerness and success of the English and Dutch. A principal reason for this has been plausibly found in the physical conditions which have made France a pleasant land, with a delightful climate, producing within itself more than its people needed. England, on the other hand, received from Nature but little, and, until her manufactures were developed, had little to export. Their [37]many wants, combined with their restless activity and other conditions that favored maritime enterprise, led her people abroad; and they there found lands more pleasant and richer than their own. Their needs and genius made them merchants and colonists, then manufacturers and producers; and between products and colonies shipping is the inevitable link. So their sea power grew. But if England was drawn to the sea, Holland was driven to it; without the sea England languished, but Holland died. In the height of her greatness, when she was one of the chief factors in European politics, a competent native authority estimated that the soil of Holland could not support more than one eighth of her inhabitants. The manufactures of the country were then numerous and important, but they had been much later in their growth than the shipping interest. The poverty of the soil and the exposed nature of the coast drove the Dutch first to fishing. Then the discovery of the process of curing the fish gave them material for export as well as home consumption, and so laid the corner-stone of their wealth. Thus they had become traders at the time that the Italian republics, under the pressure of Turkish power and the discovery of the passage round the Cape of Good Hope, were beginning to decline, and they fell heirs to the great Italian trade of the Levant. Further favored by their geographical position, intermediate between the Baltic, France, and the Mediterranean, and at the mouth of the German rivers, they quickly absorbed nearly all the carrying-trade of Europe. The wheat and naval stores of the Baltic, the trade of Spain with her colonies in the New World, the wines of France, and the French coasting-trade were, little more than two hundred years ago, transported in Dutch shipping. Much of the carrying-trade of England, even, was then done in Dutch bottoms. It will not be pretended that all this prosperity proceeded only from the poverty of Holland's natural resources. Something does not grow from nothing. What is true, is, that by the necessitous condition of her people they were driven to the sea, and were, from their mastery of the shipping business and the size of their [38]fleets, in a position to profit by the sudden expansion of commerce and the spirit of exploration which followed on the discovery of America and of the passage round the Cape. Other causes concurred, but their whole prosperity stood on the sea power to which their poverty gave birth. Their food, their clothing, the raw material for their manufactures, the very timber and hemp with which they built and rigged their ships (and they built nearly as many as all Europe besides), were imported; and when a disastrous war with England in 1653 and 1654 had lasted eighteen months, and their shipping business was stopped, it is said "the sources of revenue which had always maintained the riches of the State, such as fisheries and commerce, were almost dry. Workshops were closed, work was suspended. The Zuyder Zee became a forest of masts; the country was full of beggars; grass grew in the streets, and in Amsterdam fifteen hundred houses were untenanted." A humiliating peace alone saved them from ruin.
Aside from the shape of the coastline, which allows easy access to the sea, there are other physical factors that attract people to the sea or push them away from it. While France lacked military ports on the Channel, it had excellent harbors both there and on the ocean, as well as in the Mediterranean, ideally located for international trade and at the mouths of major rivers, which would enhance domestic commerce. However, after Richelieu ended the civil war, the French were not as eager or successful at sea as the English and Dutch. A key reason for this has been convincingly linked to the favorable physical conditions that made France a pleasant place with a delightful climate, capable of producing more than its population required. In contrast, England received minimal from Nature and had little to export until its manufacturing capabilities grew. Their numerous needs, combined with their restless energy and other factors that supported maritime ventures, drove the English abroad, where they discovered lands that were more pleasant and wealthier than their own. Their requirements and industriousness turned them into merchants, colonists, and eventually manufacturers and producers; shipping inevitably connected products with colonies, allowing their naval power to flourish. While England was drawn to the sea, Holland was compelled by necessity; without the sea, England would weaken, while Holland would perish. At the peak of its power, when it played a vital role in European politics, a capable local authority estimated that Holland's land could sustain only one-eighth of its population. The country's manufacturing sector was significant and robust, but it developed much later than the shipping industry. The poor quality of the soil and the vulnerable coastline first led the Dutch to fishing. The later discovery of fish curing methods provided material for both export and home consumption, laying the foundation for their wealth. They became traders just as the Italian city-states, pressured by the Turks and the discovery of the route around the Cape of Good Hope, began to decline, thus inheriting the extensive Italian trade with the Levant. Their advantageous geographical location—situated between the Baltic, France, and the Mediterranean, and at the mouths of German rivers—quickly enabled them to dominate almost all of Europe's trade. More than two hundred years ago, Dutch ships transported the wheat and naval supplies from the Baltic, Spain's trade with its New World colonies, and French wines, along with much of England's shipping trade as well. It cannot be said that all this prosperity stemmed solely from the limitations of Holland’s natural resources; growth cannot come from nothing. What is true is that the dire circumstances of their people compelled them to seek out the sea, and with their expertise in shipping and the size of their fleets, they were positioned to benefit from the sudden surge in commerce and exploration following the discoveries of America and the pathway around the Cape. Other factors also played a role, but their prosperity fundamentally relied on the naval strength birthed from their poverty. Their food, clothing, raw materials for manufacturing, and the timber and hemp needed for building and equipping their ships (which they constructed nearly as many as the rest of Europe combined) were all imported. After a disastrous war with England in 1653 and 1654 lasted eighteen months and halted their shipping industry, it was reported that "the revenue sources which had traditionally upheld the state's wealth, like fisheries and commerce, were almost depleted. Workshops shut down, work came to a standstill. The Zuyder Zee turned into a forest of masts; the country overflowed with beggars; grass grew in the streets, and in Amsterdam, fifteen hundred houses were unoccupied." Only a humiliating peace spared them from total ruin.
This sorrowful result shows the weakness of a country depending wholly upon sources external to itself for the part it is playing in the world. With large deductions, owing to differences of conditions which need not here be spoken of, the case of Holland then has strong points of resemblance to that of Great Britain now; and they are true prophets, though they seem to be having small honor in their own country, who warn her that the continuance of her prosperity at home depends primarily upon maintaining her power abroad. Men may be discontented at the lack of political privilege; they will be yet more uneasy if they come to lack bread. It is of more interest to Americans to note that the result to France, regarded as a power of the sea, caused by the extent, delightfulness, and richness of the land, has been reproduced in the United States. In the beginning, their forefathers held a narrow strip of land upon the sea, fertile in parts though little developed, abounding in harbors and near rich fishing-grounds. These physical conditions combined with an inborn love of the sea, the pulse of that English [39]blood which still beat in their veins, to keep alive all those tendencies and pursuits upon which a healthy sea power depends. Almost every one of the original colonies was on the sea or on one of its great tributaries. All export and import tended toward one coast. Interest in the sea and an intelligent appreciation of the part it played in the public welfare were easily and widely spread; and a motive more influential than care for the public interest was also active, for the abundance of ship-building materials and a relative fewness of other investments made shipping a profitable private interest. How changed the present condition is, all know. The centre of power is no longer on the seaboard. Books and newspapers vie with one another in describing the wonderful growth, and the still undeveloped riches, of the interior. Capital there finds its best investments, labor its largest opportunities. The frontiers are neglected and politically weak; the Gulf and Pacific coasts actually so, the Atlantic coast relatively to the central Mississippi Valley. When the day comes that shipping again pays, when the three sea frontiers find that they are not only militarily weak, but poorer for lack of national shipping, their united efforts may avail to lay again the foundations of our sea power. Till then, those who follow the limitations which lack of sea power placed upon the career of France may mourn that their own country is being led, by a like redundancy of home wealth, into the same neglect of that great instrument.
This sad outcome highlights the vulnerability of a country that relies entirely on external sources for its role in the world. With significant variations due to different conditions that need not be discussed here, the situation in Holland has many similarities to that of Great Britain today; and those who warn that the ongoing success at home relies mainly on maintaining power abroad may not get much recognition in their own country, but they are indeed right. People might be unhappy about the absence of political privileges, but they will be even more unsettled if they start to lack food. It’s particularly pertinent for Americans to recognize that the consequences for France, viewed as a maritime power due to the extent, beauty, and wealth of its land, have been mirrored in the United States. Initially, their ancestors occupied a narrow strip of land by the sea, fertile in parts but not fully developed, rich in harbors and close to abundant fishing areas. These geographic advantages, combined with a natural affinity for the sea and the pulse of that English blood still flowing in their veins, kept alive those tendencies and pursuits essential for a thriving naval power. Almost every original colony was located by the sea or on one of its major rivers. All export and import focused on one coast. Awareness of the sea and a smart understanding of its role in public welfare spread easily and widely; and there was also a more compelling reason beyond public interest at play, as the abundance of shipbuilding materials and a scarcity of other investments made shipping a lucrative private endeavor. How different the current landscape is, everyone knows. The center of power is no longer along the coastline. Books and newspapers compete in highlighting the remarkable growth and the still-untapped riches of the inland regions. Capital finds its best opportunities there, and labor has its greatest prospects. The frontiers have been overlooked and are politically weak; the Gulf and Pacific coasts are indeed weak, while the Atlantic coast is weak compared to the central Mississippi Valley. When the day comes that shipping becomes profitable again, and when the three coastal regions realize that they are not only militarily weak but also poorer due to the lack of a national shipping fleet, their combined efforts may succeed in rebuilding the foundations of our maritime power. Until then, those who study the limitations imposed by the lack of naval strength on France may lament that their own country is being led, by a similar surplus of domestic wealth, into the same disregard for that crucial tool.
Among modifying physical conditions may be noted a form like that of Italy,—a long peninsula, with a central range of mountains dividing it into two narrow strips, along which the roads connecting the different ports necessarily run. Only an absolute control of the sea can wholly secure such communications, since it is impossible to know at what point an enemy coming from beyond the visible horizon may strike; but still, with an adequate naval force centrally posted, there will be good hope of attacking his fleet, which is at once his base and line of communications, before serious damage has been done. The long, narrow peninsula of Florida, with Key [40]West at its extremity, though flat and thinly populated, presents at first sight conditions like those of Italy. The resemblance may be only superficial, but it seems probable that if the chief scene of a naval war were the Gulf of Mexico, the communications by land to the end of the peninsula might be a matter of consequence, and open to attack.
Among the changing physical conditions, one can note a shape similar to Italy—a long peninsula with a central range of mountains splitting it into two narrow strips where roads connecting various ports must run. Only absolute control of the sea can fully guarantee such communications, as it’s impossible to predict where an enemy might strike from beyond the visible horizon. However, with a strong naval force positioned centrally, there’s a good chance to engage their fleet, which serves as both their base and communication lines, before any serious damage occurs. The long, narrow peninsula of Florida, with Key [40] West at its end, though flat and sparsely populated, initially presents conditions that are similar to Italy's. The resemblance might only be superficial, but it’s likely that if the primary location of a naval war were the Gulf of Mexico, the land communications to the end of the peninsula could be significant and vulnerable to attack.
When the sea not only borders, or surrounds, but also separates a country into two or more parts, the control of it becomes not only desirable, but vitally necessary. Such a physical condition either gives birth and strength to sea power, or makes the country powerless. Such is the condition of the present kingdom of Italy, with its islands of Sardinia and Sicily; and hence in its youth and still existing financial weakness it is seen to put forth such vigorous and intelligent efforts to create a military navy. It has even been argued that, with a navy decidedly superior to her enemy's, Italy could better base her power upon her islands than upon her mainland; for the insecurity of the lines of communication in the peninsula, already pointed out, would most seriously embarrass an invading army surrounded by a hostile people and threatened from the sea.
When the sea not only borders or surrounds but also divides a country into two or more parts, controlling it becomes not just desirable but absolutely essential. This kind of geographical situation either fosters and strengthens naval power or leaves the country defenseless. This is the case for the current kingdom of Italy, which includes the islands of Sardinia and Sicily; thus, in its early stages and ongoing financial struggles, it is making strong and smart efforts to build a military navy. It's even been suggested that if Italy had a navy that clearly outmatched its enemy's, it could better secure its power from its islands rather than its mainland; the vulnerability of communication lines in the peninsula, as previously noted, would significantly hinder an invading army that is surrounded by an unfriendly population and threatened from the sea.
The Irish Sea, separating the British Islands, rather resembles an estuary than an actual division; but history has shown the danger from it to the United Kingdom. In the days of Louis XIV., when the French navy nearly equalled the combined English and Dutch, the gravest complications existed in Ireland, which passed almost wholly under the control of the natives and the French. Nevertheless, the Irish Sea was rather a danger to the English—a weak point in their communications—than an advantage to the French. The latter did not venture their ships-of-the-line in its narrow waters, and expeditions intending to land were directed upon the ocean ports in the south and west. At the supreme moment the great French fleet was sent upon the south coast of England, where it decisively defeated the allies, and at the same time twenty-five frigates were sent to St. George's Channel, against the English communications. In the midst of a [41]hostile people, the English army in Ireland was seriously imperilled, but was saved by the battle of the Boyne and the flight of James II. This movement against the enemy's communications was strictly strategic, and would be just as dangerous to England now as in 1690.
The Irish Sea, which separates the British Islands, feels more like an estuary than a true divide; however, history has shown it to be a threat to the United Kingdom. During the time of Louis XIV, when the French navy was nearly equal to the combined fleets of England and the Netherlands, Ireland largely came under the control of the locals and the French. Despite this, the Irish Sea posed more of a risk to the English—a vulnerability in their communications—rather than an advantage for the French. The French didn't risk their warships in its narrow waters, and any attempts to land were directed at the southern and western ocean ports. Ultimately, the large French fleet attacked the south coast of England, where it decisively defeated the allies, while twenty-five frigates targeted St. George's Channel to disrupt English communications. Surrounded by a hostile population, the English army in Ireland faced serious danger but was rescued by the Battle of the Boyne and the flight of James II. This strategy aimed at disrupting the enemy's communications was purely tactical and would be just as perilous for England today as it was in 1690.
Spain, in the same century, afforded an impressive lesson of the weakness caused by such separation when the parts are not knit together by a strong sea power. She then still retained, as remnants of her past greatness, the Netherlands (now Belgium), Sicily, and other Italian possessions, not to speak of her vast colonies in the New World. Yet so low had the Spanish sea power fallen, that a well-informed and sober-minded Hollander of the day could claim that "in Spain all the coast is navigated by a few Dutch ships; and since the peace of 1648 their ships and seamen are so few that they have publicly begun to hire our ships to sail to the Indies, whereas they were formerly careful to exclude all foreigners from there.... It is manifest," he goes on, "that the West Indies, being as the stomach to Spain (for from it nearly all the revenue is drawn), must be joined to the Spanish head by a sea force; and that Naples and the Netherlands, being like two arms, they cannot lay out their strength for Spain, nor receive anything thence but by shipping,—all which may easily be done by our shipping in peace, and by it obstructed in war." Half a century before, Sully, the great minister of Henry IV., had characterized Spain "as one of those States whose legs and arms are strong and powerful, but the heart infinitely weak and feeble." Since his day the Spanish navy had suffered not only disaster, but annihilation; not only humiliation, but degradation. The consequences briefly were that shipping was destroyed; manufactures perished with it. The government depended for its support, not upon a wide-spread healthy commerce and industry that could survive many a staggering blow, but upon a narrow stream of silver trickling through a few treasure-ships from America, easily and frequently intercepted by an enemy's cruisers. The loss of half a dozen galleons more than once paralyzed its [42]movements for a year. While the war in the Netherlands lasted, the Dutch control of the sea forced Spain to send her troops by a long and costly journey overland instead of by sea; and the same cause reduced her to such straits for necessaries that, by a mutual arrangement which seems very odd to modern ideas, her wants were supplied by Dutch ships, which thus maintained the enemies of their country, but received in return specie which was welcome in the Amsterdam exchange. In America, the Spanish protected themselves as best they might behind masonry, unaided from home; while in the Mediterranean they escaped insult and injury mainly through the indifference of the Dutch, for the French and English had not yet begun to contend for mastery there. In the course of history the Netherlands, Naples, Sicily, Minorca, Havana, Manila, and Jamaica were wrenched away, at one time or another, from this empire without a shipping. In short, while Spain's maritime impotence may have been primarily a symptom of her general decay, it became a marked factor in precipitating her into the abyss from which she has not yet wholly emerged.
Spain, in the same century, provided a striking example of the weakness that arises from separation when the parts aren't connected by a strong naval power. At that time, she still held on to remnants of her former greatness, such as the Netherlands (now Belgium), Sicily, and other Italian territories, not to mention her vast colonies in the Americas. Yet, Spanish naval power had declined so significantly that a knowledgeable and level-headed Dutchman of the era could assert that "in Spain, the coast is navigated by just a few Dutch ships; and since the peace of 1648, their ships and sailors have become so scarce that they have publicly started hiring our ships to sail to the Indies, even though they used to be careful to exclude all foreigners from there.... It is clear," he continues, "that the West Indies, being essential to Spain (since nearly all revenue comes from there), must be linked to the Spanish homeland by a naval force; and that Naples and the Netherlands, like two arms, cannot exert their strength for Spain or receive anything from it except through shipping—all of which can easily be managed by our shipping in peace and hindered in war." Half a century earlier, Sully, the great minister of Henry IV, described Spain "as one of those States whose arms and legs are strong and powerful, but whose heart is incredibly weak and feeble." Since then, the Spanish navy had faced not only disaster but also annihilation; not just humiliation, but degradation. The short-term result was the destruction of shipping; industries collapsed along with it. The government relied for its support, not on a widespread healthy commerce and industry that could withstand numerous blows, but on a slender stream of silver trickling through a few treasure ships from America, easily and regularly intercepted by enemy cruisers. Losing half a dozen galleons at times paralyzed its operations for a year. Throughout the war in the Netherlands, Dutch control of the sea forced Spain to send troops on a long and costly overland journey instead of by sea; and this same situation led to such shortages that, through a mutual arrangement that seems very strange by today's standards, her needs were met by Dutch ships, which ended up supporting the enemies of their country, but received in return specie that was welcomed in the Amsterdam exchange. In America, the Spanish protected themselves as best they could behind stone walls, without help from home; while in the Mediterranean, they mostly avoided insult and injury due to the indifference of the Dutch, as the French and English had not yet begun to compete for dominance there. Over time, the Netherlands, Naples, Sicily, Minorca, Havana, Manila, and Jamaica were taken from this empire without a navy. In summary, while Spain's maritime impotence may have been primarily a sign of her overall decline, it became a significant factor in leading her into the abyss from which she has not yet fully recovered.
Except Alaska, the United States has no outlying possession,—no foot of ground inaccessible by land. Its contour is such as to present few points specially weak from their saliency, and all important parts of the frontiers can be readily attained,—cheaply by water, rapidly by rail. The weakest frontier, the Pacific, is far removed from the most dangerous of possible enemies. The internal resources are boundless as compared with present needs; we can live off ourselves indefinitely in "our little corner," to use the expression of a French officer to the author. Yet should that little corner be invaded by a new commercial route through the Isthmus, the United States in her turn may have the rude awakening of those who have abandoned their share in the common birthright of all people, the sea.
Except for Alaska, the United States has no outlying territories—no piece of land that's hard to reach by land. Its shape has very few weak points, and all major parts of the borders can be easily accessed—affordably by water and quickly by rail. The weakest border, the Pacific, is far from the most dangerous potential enemies. The internal resources are limitless compared to current needs; we can sustain ourselves indefinitely in "our little corner," as a French officer once told the author. However, if that little corner is disrupted by a new trade route through the Isthmus, the United States might face a harsh reality like those who have given up their share of the common sea rights that belong to everyone.
III. Extent of Territory.—The last of the conditions affecting the development of a nation as a sea power, and [43]touching the country itself as distinguished from the people who dwell there, is Extent of Territory. This may be dismissed with comparatively few words.
III. Extent of Territory.—The final condition influencing a nation's growth as a maritime power, and [43]related to the country itself rather than the individuals living there, is the Extent of Territory. This can be summarized in just a few words.
As regards the development of sea power, it is not the total number of square miles which a country contains, but the length of its coast-line and the character of its harbors that are to be considered. As to these it is to be said that, the geographical and physical conditions being the same, extent of sea-coast is a source of strength or weakness according as the population is large or small. A country is in this like a fortress; the garrison must be proportioned to the enceinte. A recent familiar instance is found in the American War of Secession. Had the South had a people as numerous as it was warlike, and a navy commensurate to its other resources as a sea power, the great extent of its sea-coast and its numerous inlets would have been elements of great strength. The people of the United States and the Government of that day justly prided themselves on the effectiveness of the blockade of the whole Southern coast. It was a great feat, a very great feat; but it would have been an impossible feat had the Southerners been more numerous, and a nation of seamen. What was there shown was not, as has been said, how such a blockade can be maintained, but that such a blockade is possible in the face of a population not only unused to the sea, but also scanty in numbers. Those who recall how the blockade was maintained, and the class of ships that blockaded during great part of the war, know that the plan, correct under the circumstances, could not have been carried out in the face of a real navy. Scattered unsupported along the coast, the United States ships kept their places, singly or in small detachments, in face of an extensive network of inland water communications which favored secret concentration of the enemy. Behind the first line of water communications were long estuaries, and here and there strong fortresses, upon either of which the enemy's ships could always fall back to elude pursuit or to receive protection. Had there been a Southern navy to profit by such advantages, or by the [44]scattered condition of the United States ships, the latter could not have been distributed as they were; and being forced to concentrate for mutual support, many small but useful approaches would have been left open to commerce. But as the Southern coast, from its extent and many inlets, might have been a source of strength, so, from those very characteristics, it became a fruitful source of injury. The great story of the opening of the Mississippi is but the most striking illustration of an action that was going on incessantly all over the South. At every breach of the sea frontier, war-ships were entering. The streams that had carried the wealth and supported the trade of the seceding States turned against them, and admitted their enemies to their hearts. Dismay, insecurity, paralysis, prevailed in regions that might, under happier auspices, have kept a nation alive through the most exhausting war. Never did sea power play a greater or a more decisive part than in the contest which determined that the course of the world's history would be modified by the existence of one great nation, instead of several rival States, in the North American continent. But while just pride is felt in the well-earned glory of those days, and the greatness of the results due to naval preponderance is admitted, Americans who understand the facts should never fail to remind the over-confidence of their countrymen that the South not only had no navy, not only was not a seafaring people, but that also its population was not proportioned to the extent of the sea-coast which it had to defend.
When it comes to developing naval power, it’s not the total number of square miles a country has that matters, but the length of its coastline and the quality of its harbors. Under similar geographic and physical conditions, the size of the coastline can be either a strength or a weakness, depending on whether the population is large or small. A country is similar to a fortress; the number of defenders must match its size. A recent example can be seen in the American Civil War. If the South had had a population as numerous as it was militarily capable and a navy that matched its other resources as a naval power, the vastness of its coastline and its many inlets would have been significant strengths. The people of the United States and their government at that time rightly took pride in the success of the blockade of the entire Southern coast. It was an impressive achievement; however, it wouldn’t have been possible if the Southerners had been more numerous and a nation of sailors. What was demonstrated was not just how such a blockade could be maintained, but that it was possible against a population that was not only inexperienced with the sea but also relatively small in number. Those who remember how the blockade functioned and the types of ships involved for much of the war know that the strategy, which was valid given the circumstances, could not have succeeded against a real navy. Scattered and unsupported along the coastline, the U.S. ships held their positions, either individually or in small groups, despite an extensive network of inland waterways that allowed the enemy to secretly regroup. Behind the initial line of these waterways were long estuaries and strong fortresses, which the enemy's ships could always retreat to for cover or to avoid capture. If there had been a Southern navy to take advantage of these benefits, or of the isolated positions of U.S. ships, the latter could not have been as widely spread; they would have had to concentrate for mutual support, leaving many small yet valuable access points open for trade. However, while the extensive and varied coastline of the South could have been a source of strength, its characteristics instead turned it into a significant liability. The dramatic opening of the Mississippi River is just one of the most notable examples of ongoing conflicts happening throughout the South. At every breach of the sea border, warships came in. The rivers that once supported the economy and trade of the seceding states turned against them, allowing their enemies to invade. Regions that could have sustained a nation through a grueling war were overrun with fear, instability, and paralysis. Naval power played a crucial and decisive role in the conflict that ultimately changed the course of history, ensuring that one powerful nation would exist rather than several competing states on the North American continent. While there’s deserved pride in the achievements of that era and recognition of the major impacts of naval superiority, Americans should not forget to remind their overly confident fellow countrymen that the South not only lacked a navy and was not a seafaring society but also that its population was inadequate for defending its extensive coastline.
IV. Number of Population.—After the consideration of the natural conditions of a country should follow an examination of the characteristics of its population as affecting the development of sea power; and first among these will be taken, because of its relations to the extent of the territory, which has just been discussed, the number of the people who live in it. It has been said that in respect of dimensions it is not merely the number of square miles, but the extent and character of the sea-coast that is to be considered with [45]reference to sea power; and so, in point of population, it is not only the grand total, but the number following the sea, or at least readily available for employment on ship-board and for the creation of naval material, that must be counted.
IV. Number of Population.—After looking into the natural conditions of a country, we should examine the characteristics of its population that influence the development of sea power. First on the list, due to its relationship with the size of the territory we've just discussed, is the number of people living in it. It's been stated that when considering size, we shouldn't just look at the number of square miles but also the extent and nature of the coastline in relation to sea power. Similarly, regarding the population, we should not only consider the total number but also the number of individuals near the coast or those readily available for service on ships and for producing naval resources.
For example, formerly and up to the end of the great wars following the French Revolution, the population of France was much greater than that of England; but in respect of sea power in general, peaceful commerce as well as military efficiency, France was much inferior to England. In the matter of military efficiency this fact is the more remarkable because at times, in point of military preparation at the outbreak of war, France had the advantage; but she was not able to keep it. Thus in 1778, when war broke out, France, through her maritime inscription, was able to man at once fifty ships-of-the-line. England, on the contrary, by reason of the dispersal over the globe of that very shipping on which her naval strength so securely rested, had much trouble in manning forty at home; but in 1782 she had one hundred and twenty in commission or ready for commission, while France had never been able to exceed seventy-one. Again, as late as 1840, when the two nations were on the verge of war in the Levant, a most accomplished French officer of the day, while extolling the high state of efficiency of the French fleet and the eminent qualities of its admiral, and expressing confidence in the results of an encounter with an equal enemy, goes on to say: "Behind the squadron of twenty-one ships-of-the-line which we could then assemble, there was no reserve; not another ship could have been commissioned within six months." And this was due not only to lack of ships and of proper equipments, though both were wanting. "Our maritime inscription," he continues, "was so exhausted by what we had done [in manning twenty-one ships], that the permanent levy established in all quarters did not supply reliefs for the men, who were already more than three years on cruise."
For example, until the end of the major wars following the French Revolution, France's population was much larger than England's. However, in terms of overall sea power, including trade and military effectiveness, France was significantly behind England. This is particularly notable because at times, right before war started, France had an advantage in military readiness, but she couldn't maintain it. In 1778, when war broke out, France was able to immediately crew fifty ships-of-the-line due to her maritime resources. On the other hand, England had difficulties manning forty ships at home because her naval strength relied on ships scattered around the world. Yet by 1782, England had one hundred and twenty ships either in service or ready for service, while France couldn't surpass seventy-one. Again, as recently as 1840, when both nations were about to go to war in the Levant, a skilled French officer praised the impressive efficiency of the French fleet and the remarkable capabilities of its admiral, expressing confidence in facing an equal enemy. He noted, "Behind the squadron of twenty-one ships-of-the-line that we could assemble, there was no backup; not another ship could have been crewed within six months." This was due not only to a shortage of ships and proper equipment, though both were lacking. "Our maritime resources," he continued, "were so depleted from manning those twenty-one ships that the permanent recruits we had in place couldn’t relieve the crew members who had already been at sea for over three years."
A contrast such as this shows a difference in what is called staying power, or reserve force, which is even greater than [46]appears on the surface; for a great shipping afloat necessarily employs, besides the crews, a large number of people engaged in the various handicrafts which facilitate the making and repairing of naval material, or following other callings more or less closely connected with the water and with craft of all kinds. Such kindred callings give an undoubted aptitude for the sea from the outset. There is an anecdote showing curious insight into this matter on the part of one of England's distinguished seamen, Sir Edward Pellew. When the war broke out in 1793, the usual scarceness of seamen was met. Eager to get to sea and unable to fill his complement otherwise than with landsmen, he instructed his officers to seek for Cornish miners; reasoning from the conditions and dangers of their calling, of which he had personal knowledge, that they would quickly fit into the demands of sea life. The result showed his sagacity, for, thus escaping an otherwise unavoidable delay, he was fortunate enough to capture the first frigate taken in the war in single combat; and what is especially instructive is, that although but a few weeks in commission, while his opponent had been over a year, the losses, heavy on both sides, were nearly equal.
A contrast like this highlights a difference in what’s known as staying power or reserve force, which is even greater than [46] appears at first glance; because a large shipping operation not only requires crews but also employs many people engaged in various trades that help build and repair naval equipment, as well as other jobs that are somewhat linked to the water and different types of vessels. These related occupations naturally provide a solid foundation for a life at sea right from the start. There’s an interesting story that demonstrates this understanding from one of England's notable sailors, Sir Edward Pellew. When war broke out in 1793, there was a usual shortage of seamen. Eager to set sail and unable to fill his crew with experienced sailors, he instructed his officers to look for Cornish miners; reasoning from the challenges and risks of their jobs, which he was personally familiar with, that they would quickly adapt to the demands of life at sea. The outcome proved his insight, as he managed to avoid a delay that would have been inevitable otherwise and was fortunate enough to capture the first frigate taken in the war in a one-on-one battle. What’s particularly noteworthy is that, despite being in service for only a few weeks while his opponent had been for over a year, the heavy losses on both sides were nearly equal.
It may be urged that such reserve strength has now nearly lost the importance it once had, because modern ships and weapons take so long to make, and because modern States aim at developing the whole power of their armed force, on the outbreak of war, with such rapidity as to strike a disabling blow before the enemy can organize an equal effort. To use a familiar phrase, there will not be time for the whole resistance of the national fabric to come into play; the blow will fall on the organized military fleet, and if that yield, the solidity of the rest of the structure will avail nothing. To a certain extent this is true; but then it has always been true, though to a less extent formerly than now. Granted the meeting of two fleets which represent practically the whole present strength of their two nations, if one of them be destroyed, while the other remains fit for action, there will be much less hope now than formerly that the vanquished can [47]restore his navy for that war; and the result will be disastrous just in proportion to the dependence of the nation upon her sea power. A Trafalgar would have been a much more fatal blow to England than it was to France, had the English fleet then represented, as the allied fleet did, the bulk of the nation's power. Trafalgar in such a case would have been to England what Austerlitz was to Austria, and Jena to Prussia; an empire would have been laid prostrate by the destruction or disorganization of its military forces, which, it is said, were the favorite objective of Napoleon.
It could be argued that this kind of reserve strength has lost much of its significance today because modern ships and weapons take so long to produce, and because contemporary nations focus on building up their entire military capability rapidly at the onset of conflict to deliver a crippling blow before the enemy can respond effectively. To put it simply, there won’t be enough time for the full strength of the country’s resources to come into play; the attack will target the organized military fleet, and if that fails, the overall strength of the nation will mean nothing. This is partly true, but it has always been the case, albeit to a lesser degree in the past. If two fleets meet that represent nearly all the current military strength of their nations, and one is destroyed while the other remains operational, there is now much less chance that the defeated side can rebuild its navy for that conflict; the outcome will be catastrophic, especially given how much the nation depends on its naval power. A Trafalgar would have been a far more devastating defeat for England than it was for France, had the English fleet represented, as the allied fleet did, the majority of the nation's strength. In that case, Trafalgar would have been to England what Austerlitz was to Austria and Jena to Prussia; an empire would have been brought low by the destruction or disorganization of its military forces, which were, as it's said, Napoleon's preferred target.
But does the consideration of such exceptional disasters in the past justify the putting a low value upon that reserve strength, based upon the number of inhabitants fitted for a certain kind of military life, which is here being considered? The blows just mentioned were dealt by men of exceptional genius, at the head of armed bodies of exceptional training, esprit-de-corps, and prestige, and were, besides, inflicted upon opponents more or less demoralized by conscious inferiority and previous defeat. Austerlitz had been closely preceded by Ulm, where thirty thousand Austrians laid down their arms without a battle; and the history of the previous years had been one long record of Austrian reverse and French success. Trafalgar followed closely upon a cruise, justly called a campaign, of almost constant failure; and farther back, but still recent, were the memories of St. Vincent for the Spaniards, and of the Nile for the French, in the allied fleet. Except the case of Jena, these crushing overthrows were not single disasters, but final blows; and in the Jena campaign there was a disparity in numbers, equipment, and general preparation for war, which makes it less applicable in considering what may result from a single victory.
But does considering such exceptional disasters from the past justify valuing the reserve strength—based on the number of people suited for a specific type of military life—so low? The blows mentioned were delivered by men of extraordinary talent, leading well-trained armed forces with strong morale and reputation, and were inflicted on opponents who were, to some extent, demoralized by their own sense of inferiority and past defeats. Austerlitz came right after Ulm, where thirty thousand Austrians surrendered without a fight; and the preceding years were filled with one long record of Austrian defeats and French victories. Trafalgar occurred shortly after a cruise, rightly called a campaign, marked by nearly constant failures; and looking back a bit further, but still fresh in memory, were the defeats at St. Vincent for the Spaniards and the Nile for the French in the allied fleet. Except for the case of Jena, these overwhelming defeats were not isolated incidents but final blows; and in the Jena campaign, there was a significant imbalance in numbers, equipment, and overall military preparation, making it less relevant when considering what could result from a single victory.
England is at the present time the greatest maritime nation in the world; in steam and iron she has kept the superiority she had in the days of sail and wood. France and England are the two powers that have the largest military navies; and it is so far an open question which of the two is the more powerful, that they may be regarded as practically of equal [48]strength in material for a sea war. In the case of a collision can there be assumed such a difference of personnel, or of preparation, as to make it probable that a decisive inequality will result from one battle or one campaign? If not, the reserve strength will begin to tell; organized reserve first, then reserve of seafaring population, reserve of mechanical skill, reserve of wealth. It seems to have been somewhat forgotten that England's leadership in mechanical arts gives her a reserve of mechanics, who can easily familiarize themselves with the appliances of modern iron-clads; and as her commerce and industries feel the burden of the war, the surplus of seamen and mechanics will go to the armed shipping.
England is currently the greatest maritime nation in the world; in steam and iron, she has maintained the superiority she had in the days of sail and wood. France and England are the two powers with the largest military navies, and it's still an open question which of the two is stronger, as they can be seen as practically equal in [48]strength for a sea war. In the event of a conflict, can we assume such a difference in personnel or preparation that it's likely a decisive inequality will come from one battle or one campaign? If not, the reserve strength will start to show; organized reserve first, then the reserve of seafaring population, mechanical skills, and wealth. It seems to have been somewhat overlooked that England’s leadership in mechanical arts gives her a reserve of mechanics who can quickly adapt to the technology of modern ironclads; and as her commerce and industries bear the strain of the war, the surplus of seamen and mechanics will be redirected to the armed shipping.
The whole question of the value of a reserve, developed or undeveloped, amounts now to this: Have modern conditions of warfare made it probable that, of two nearly equal adversaries, one will be so prostrated in a single campaign that a decisive result will be reached in that time? Sea warfare has given no answer. The crushing successes of Prussia against Austria, and of Germany against France, appear to have been those of a stronger over a much weaker nation, whether the weakness were due to natural causes, or to official incompetency. How would a delay like that of Plevna have affected the fortune of war, had Turkey had any reserve of national power upon which to call?
The whole question of the value of a reserve, whether developed or undeveloped, now comes down to this: Have modern warfare conditions made it likely that, when two nearly equal opponents face off, one could be so overwhelmed in a single campaign that a decisive outcome is achieved in that time? Naval warfare hasn't provided an answer. The significant victories of Prussia over Austria, and Germany over France, seem to have been those of a stronger nation defeating a much weaker one, whether that weakness stemmed from natural factors or official incompetence. How might a delay like that at Plevna have influenced the outcome of the war if Turkey had any reserve of national strength to draw upon?
If time be, as is everywhere admitted, a supreme factor in war, it behooves countries whose genius is essentially not military, whose people, like all free people, object to pay for large military establishments, to see to it that they are at least strong enough to gain the time necessary to turn the spirit and capacity of their subjects into the new activities which war calls for. If the existing force by land or sea is strong enough so to hold out, even though at a disadvantage, the country may rely upon its natural resources and strength coming into play for whatever they are worth,—its numbers, its wealth, its capacities of every kind. If, on the other hand, what force it has can be overthrown and crushed quickly, the most magnificent possibilities of natural power will not save [49]it from humiliating conditions, nor, if its foe be wise, from guarantees which will postpone revenge to a distant future. The story is constantly repeated on the smaller fields of war: "If so-and-so can hold out a little longer, this can be saved or that can be done;" as in sickness it is often said: "If the patient can only hold out so long, the strength of his constitution may pull him through."
If time is, as everyone agrees, a crucial factor in war, then countries that are not mainly military in nature and whose people, like all free populations, resist paying for large military forces, must ensure they are strong enough to buy time to channel the energy and abilities of their citizens into the new activities required by war. If the current military force, whether on land or at sea, is strong enough to endure, even while at a disadvantage, the country can depend on its natural resources and strengths to come into play for all they are worth—its population, its wealth, its various capabilities. However, if the existing force can be quickly defeated, the most impressive potential of natural power won’t protect it from disgraceful conditions, nor, if its enemy is shrewd, from conditions that will delay any chance for revenge to a distant time. This scenario is often repeated in smaller conflicts: “If this person can just hold out a bit longer, this can be salvaged or that can be achieved;” similar to how we often say in medicine: “If the patient can endure just a little longer, their natural strength might help them pull through.”
England to some extent is now such a country. Holland was such a country; she would not pay, and if she escaped, it was but by the skin of her teeth. "Never in time of peace and from fear of a rupture," wrote their great statesman, De Witt, "will they take resolutions strong enough to lead them to pecuniary sacrifices beforehand. The character of the Dutch is such that, unless danger stares them in the face, they are indisposed to lay out money for their own defence. I have to do with a people who, liberal to profusion where they ought to economize, are often sparing to avarice where they ought to spend."
England, to some extent, is now like that country. Holland was like that country; they wouldn't pay, and if they managed to escape, it was just by a hair. "Never in peacetime and from fear of conflict," wrote their great statesman, De Witt, "will they make strong resolutions that lead them to financial sacrifices in advance. The Dutch are such that unless they're faced with danger, they are unwilling to spend money on their own defense. I deal with a people who are generous to excess when they should be frugal, yet often miserly when they should be willing to spend."
That our own country is open to the same reproach, is patent to all the world. The United States has not that shield of defensive power behind which time can be gained to develop its reserve of strength. As for a seafaring population adequate to her possible needs, where is it? Such a resource, proportionate to her coast-line and population, is to be found only in a national merchant shipping and its related industries, which at present scarcely exist. It will matter little whether the crews of such ships are native or foreign born, provided they are attached to the flag, and her power at sea is sufficient to enable the most of them to get back in case of war. When foreigners by thousands are admitted to the ballot, it is of little moment that they are given fighting-room on board ship.
That our country faces the same criticism is obvious to everyone. The United States doesn’t have the defensive power that allows time to build up its strength. And as for a seafaring population that could meet potential needs, where is it? Such a resource, in line with its coastline and population, can only be found in a national merchant fleet and its related industries, which barely exist right now. It doesn’t really matter whether the crews on these ships are native or immigrant, as long as they’re committed to the flag, and the country has enough power at sea to ensure most can return in case of war. When thousands of foreigners are allowed to vote, it’s not particularly important that they have opportunities to fight on board ship.
Though the treatment of the subject has been somewhat discursive, it may be admitted that a great population following callings related to the sea is, now as formerly, a great element of sea power; that the United States is deficient in that element; and that its foundations can be laid only in a large commerce under her own flag.
Though the discussion has been a bit rambling, it's true that a large population engaged in sea-related jobs is, just like in the past, a key part of sea power; that the United States lacks in this area; and that its foundation can only be established through substantial commerce under its own flag.
[50]V. National Character.—The effect of national character and aptitudes upon the development of sea power will next be considered.
[50]V. National Character.—Next, we'll look at how national character and abilities influence the growth of naval power.
If sea power be really based upon a peaceful and extensive commerce, aptitude for commercial pursuits must be a distinguishing feature of the nations that have at one time or another been great upon the sea. History almost without exception affirms that this is true. Save the Romans, there is no marked instance to the contrary.
If naval power is truly built on peaceful and widespread trade, then a talent for business must be a key trait of the nations that have been powerful at sea at some point in history. Almost all of history backs this up. Aside from the Romans, there aren’t any notable examples to contradict this.
All men seek gain and, more or less, love money; but the way in which gain is sought will have a marked effect upon the commercial fortunes and the history of the people inhabiting a country.
All people seek profit and, to varying degrees, value money; however, the methods used to pursue profit will significantly influence the economic success and history of the people living in a country.
If history may be believed, the way in which the Spaniards and their kindred nation, the Portuguese, sought wealth, not only brought a blot upon the national character, but was also fatal to the growth of a healthy commerce; and so to the industries upon which commerce lives, and ultimately to that national wealth which was sought by mistaken paths. The desire for gain rose in them to fierce avarice; so they sought in the new-found worlds which gave such an impetus to the commercial and maritime development of the countries of Europe, not new fields of industry, not even the healthy excitement of exploration and adventure, but gold and silver. They had many great qualities; they were bold, enterprising, temperate, patient of suffering, enthusiastic, and gifted with intense national feeling. When to these qualities are added the advantages of Spain's position and well-situated ports, the fact that she was first to occupy large and rich portions of the new worlds and long remained without a competitor, and that for a hundred years after the discovery of America she was the leading State in Europe, she might have been expected to take the foremost place among the sea powers. Exactly the contrary was the result, as all know. Since the battle of Lepanto in 1571, though engaged in many wars, no sea victory of any consequence shines on the pages of Spanish history; and the decay of her commerce sufficiently accounts [51]for the painful and sometimes ludicrous inaptness shown on the decks of her ships of war. Doubtless such a result is not to be attributed to one cause only. Doubtless the government of Spain was in many ways such as to cramp and blight a free and healthy development of private enterprise; but the character of a great people breaks through or shapes the character of its government, and it can hardly be doubted that had the bent of the people been toward trade, the action of government would have been drawn into the same current. The great field of the colonies, also, was remote from the centre of that despotism which blighted the growth of old Spain. As it was, thousands of Spaniards, of the working as well as the upper classes, left Spain; and the occupations in which they engaged abroad sent home little but specie, or merchandise of small bulk, requiring but small tonnage. The mother-country herself produced little but wool, fruit, and iron; her manufactures were naught; her industries suffered; her population steadily decreased. Both she and her colonies depended upon the Dutch for so many of the necessaries of life, that the products of their scanty industries could not suffice to pay for them. "So that Holland merchants," writes a contemporary, "who carry money to most parts of the world to buy commodities, must out of this single country of Europe carry home money, which they receive in payment of their goods." Thus their eagerly sought emblem of wealth passed quickly from their hands. It has already been pointed out how weak, from a military point of view, Spain was from this decay of her shipping. Her wealth being in small bulk on a few ships, following more or less regular routes, was easily seized by an enemy, and the sinews of war paralyzed; whereas the wealth of England and Holland, scattered over thousands of ships in all parts of the world, received many bitter blows in many exhausting wars, without checking a growth which, though painful, was steady. The fortunes of Portugal, united to Spain during a most critical period of her history, followed the same downward path: although foremost in the [52]beginning of the race for development by sea, she fell utterly behind. "The mines of Brazil were the ruin of Portugal, as those of Mexico and Peru had been of Spain; all manufactures fell into insane contempt; ere long the English supplied the Portuguese not only with clothes, but with all merchandise, all commodities, even to salt-fish and grain. After their gold, the Portuguese abandoned their very soil; the vineyards of Oporto were finally bought by the English with Brazilian gold, which had only passed through Portugal to be spread throughout England." We are assured that in fifty years, five hundred millions of dollars were extracted from "the mines of Brazil, and that at the end of the time Portugal had but twenty-five millions in specie,"—a striking example of the difference between real and fictitious wealth.
If history is to be believed, the way the Spaniards and their close relatives, the Portuguese, pursued wealth not only tarnished their national character but also severely hindered the growth of a healthy commerce, which subsequently impacted the industries that rely on commerce, and ultimately the national wealth they were misguidedly seeking. Their desire for profit escalated into fierce greed; they sought not new industries or the healthy thrill of exploration and adventure in the newly discovered lands that boosted commercial and maritime development across Europe, but gold and silver. They possessed many admirable qualities; they were bold, enterprising, temperate, resilient in the face of hardship, enthusiastic, and deeply patriotic. When you add to these qualities Spain's strategic location and well-positioned ports, the fact that she was the first to occupy large and rich areas of the new worlds and remained largely uncontested for a significant time, and that for a century following the discovery of America she was the leading power in Europe, one might have expected her to emerge as a top maritime power. Quite the opposite occurred, as is well known. Since the battle of Lepanto in 1571, despite being engaged in numerous wars, there has been no significant naval victory recorded in Spanish history, and the decline of her commerce explains the painful and sometimes absurd ineptitude displayed on her warships. Clearly, this outcome cannot be attributed to a single cause. The Spanish government certainly restricted and stifled the free and healthy development of private enterprise in many ways; however, the spirit of a great people can either transcend or shape its government, and there's little doubt that if the people had been oriented towards trade, the government's actions would have aligned with that direction. Moreover, the vast expanse of the colonies was far removed from the center of the despotism that stunted the growth of old Spain. Consequently, thousands of Spaniards, from both working and upper classes, left Spain, and the jobs they took up abroad mostly sent back just cash or low-bulk goods that required little shipping capacity. The mother country produced little more than wool, fruit, and iron; its manufacturing was virtually nonexistent; industry was suffering; and the population steadily declined. Both Spain and her colonies relied on the Dutch for many essential goods, rendering their meager industrial output insufficient to cover their needs. "So that Holland merchants," noted a contemporary, "who carry money to most parts of the world to buy commodities, must return home with cash from this single country of Europe as payment for their goods." Thus, their eagerly sought symbol of wealth quickly slipped from their grasp. It's already been pointed out how weak Spain became militarily due to the decline of her shipping. With her wealth concentrated in just a few ships on relatively regular routes, it was easily captured by an enemy, crippling her military strength; while England and Holland's wealth, dispersed across thousands of ships worldwide, endured many harsh blows in numerous exhausting wars without halting a consistent, if painful, growth. Portugal's fortunes, united with Spain during a critical period in its history, followed the same downward trend: although it was initially at the forefront in the race for maritime development, it fell drastically behind. "The mines of Brazil became Portugal's downfall, just as those of Mexico and Peru were for Spain; all industries fell into complete neglect; soon the English were supplying the Portuguese not only with clothing but all kinds of goods, including salt-fish and grain. After their gold, the Portuguese abandoned their very homeland; the vineyards of Oporto ultimately ended up owned by the English, purchased with Brazilian gold that merely passed through Portugal to be distributed throughout England." We are told that within fifty years, five hundred million dollars were extracted from "the mines of Brazil, and by the end of that period, Portugal had only twenty-five million in cash,"—a striking illustration of the disparity between real and illusory wealth.
The English and Dutch were no less desirous of gain than the southern nations. Each in turn has been called "a nation of shopkeepers;" but the jeer, in so far as it is just, is to the credit of their wisdom and uprightness. They were no less bold, no less enterprising, no less patient. Indeed, they were more patient, in that they sought riches not by the sword but by labor, which is the reproach meant to be implied by the epithet; for thus they took the longest, instead of what seemed the shortest, road to wealth. But these two peoples, radically of the same race, had other qualities, no less important than those just named, which combined with their surroundings to favor their development by sea. They were by nature business-men, traders, producers, negotiators. Therefore both in their native country and abroad, whether settled in the ports of civilized nations, or of barbarous eastern rulers, or in colonies of their own foundation, they everywhere strove to draw out all the resources of the land, to develop and increase them. The quick instinct of the born trader, shopkeeper if you will, sought continually new articles to exchange; and this search, combined with the industrious character evolved through generations of labor, made them necessarily producers. At home they became great as manufacturers; abroad, where they controlled, the land grew richer [53]continually, products multiplied, and the necessary exchange between home and the settlements called for more ships. Their shipping therefore increased with these demands of trade, and nations with less aptitude for maritime enterprise, even France herself, great as she has been, called for their products and for the service of their ships. Thus in many ways they advanced to power at sea. This natural tendency and growth were indeed modified and seriously checked at times by the interference of other governments, jealous of a prosperity which their own people could invade only by the aid of artificial support,—a support which will be considered under the head of governmental action as affecting sea power.
The English and Dutch were just as eager for profit as the southern nations. Each has been labeled "a nation of shopkeepers," but the insult, to the extent that it holds truth, actually reflects their wisdom and integrity. They were just as bold, just as enterprising, and just as patient. In fact, they were more patient, as they pursued wealth not through violence but through hard work, which is the criticism implied by that term; by choosing the longer path to riches instead of the more immediate one. However, these two groups, fundamentally from the same background, possessed other qualities equally as important as those mentioned, which, when combined with their environment, encouraged their development through maritime endeavors. They were inherently businessmen, traders, producers, and negotiators. Therefore, both at home and abroad—whether in the ports of civilized nations or under the rule of barbarous eastern leaders or in their own colonies—they consistently sought to extract and enhance the land's resources. The keen instinct of a natural trader, or shopkeeper if you prefer, constantly sought new goods to trade; this pursuit, along with their industrious nature developed over generations, made them producers by necessity. At home, they excelled as manufacturers, while overseas, where they held control, the land prospered, products multiplied, and the essential exchange between the home country and the settlements required more ships. Their shipping thus expanded with these trade demands, and nations less skilled in maritime ventures, even great France herself, sought their goods and shipping services. In many ways, this led to their rise in naval power. This natural inclination and growth were indeed modified and sometimes hindered by the interference of other governments, envious of a prosperity that their own citizens could only achieve with artificial support—something that will be examined under the section about governmental influence on naval power.
The tendency to trade, involving of necessity the production of something to trade with, is the national characteristic most important to the development of sea power. Granting it and a good seaboard, it is not likely that the dangers of the sea, or any aversion to it, will deter a people from seeking wealth by the paths of ocean commerce. Where wealth is sought by other means, it may be found; but it will not necessarily lead to sea power. Take France. France has a fine country, an industrious people, an admirable position. The French navy has known periods of great glory, and in its lowest estate has never dishonored the military reputation so dear to the nation. Yet as a maritime State, securely resting upon a broad basis of sea commerce, France, as compared with other historical sea-peoples, has never held more than a respectable position. The chief reason for this, so far as national character goes, is the way in which wealth is sought. As Spain and Portugal sought it by digging gold out of the ground, the temper of the French people leads them to seek it by thrift, economy, hoarding. It is said to be harder to keep than to make a fortune. Possibly; but the adventurous temper, which risks what it has to gain more, has much in common with the adventurous spirit that conquers worlds for commerce. The tendency to save and put aside, to venture timidly and on a small scale, may lead to a general diffusion [54]of wealth on a like small scale, but not to the risks and development of external trade and shipping interests. To illustrate,—and the incident is given only for what it is worth,—a French officer, speaking to the author about the Panama Canal, said: "I have two shares in it. In France we don't do as you, where a few people take a great many shares each. With us a large number of people take one share or a very few. When these were in the market my wife said to me, 'You take two shares, one for you and one for me.'" As regards the stability of a man's personal fortunes this kind of prudence is doubtless wise; but when excessive prudence or financial timidity becomes a national trait, it must tend to hamper the expansion of commerce and of the nation's shipping. The same caution in money matters, appearing in another relation of life, has checked the production of children, and keeps the population of France nearly stationary.
The tendency to trade, which necessarily involves producing something to trade, is the most important national characteristic for the development of sea power. Given this tendency and a good coastline, it’s unlikely that the dangers of the sea or any dislike of it will stop a nation from pursuing wealth through ocean commerce. Wealth can be pursued in other ways, but that doesn't automatically lead to sea power. Take France, for example. France has a great country, a hardworking population, and a fantastic location. The French navy has experienced periods of great glory and has never completely tarnished the military reputation that is so important to the nation, even in its lowest moments. However, as a maritime nation, firmly positioned on a strong foundation of sea commerce, France has never held a more than respectable position compared to other historical sea-faring nations. The main reason for this, in terms of national character, is the way the French seek wealth. While Spain and Portugal pursued riches by digging for gold, the French people's mindset leads them to seek it through frugality, saving, and hoarding. It's often said that keeping a fortune is harder than making one. That may be true; however, the bold spirit that risks its resources to gain more shares a lot with the adventurous spirit that conquers lands for trade. The tendency to save and act cautiously on a small scale may lead to a broad but limited distribution of wealth, but it won’t encourage the risks and growth of external trade and shipping interests. For example—and this instance is shared just for what it reveals—a French officer once told me about the Panama Canal, saying: "I have two shares in it. In France, we don’t act like you do, where a few people hold many shares. Here, a large number of people each take one share or a very few. When these shares were available, my wife said to me, ‘You take two shares, one for you and one for me.’” While this kind of caution might be wise for an individual’s financial stability, when excessive caution or financial timidity becomes a national trait, it can hinder the growth of commerce and the nation’s shipping industry. The same cautious approach to finances, evident in other areas of life, has also limited family growth, keeping France’s population almost stationary.
The noble classes of Europe inherited from the Middle Ages a supercilious contempt for peaceful trade, which has exercised a modifying influence upon its growth, according to the national character of different countries. The pride of the Spaniards fell easily in with this spirit of contempt, and co-operated with that disastrous unwillingness to work and wait for wealth which turned them away from commerce. In France, the vanity which is conceded even by Frenchmen to be a national trait led in the same direction. The numbers and brilliancy of the nobility, and the consideration enjoyed by them, set a seal of inferiority upon an occupation which they despised. Rich merchants and manufacturers sighed for the honors of nobility, and upon obtaining them, abandoned their lucrative professions. Therefore, while the industry of the people and the fruitfulness of the soil saved commerce from total decay, it was pursued under a sense of humiliation which caused its best representatives to escape from it as soon as they could. Louis XIV., under the influence of Colbert, put forth an ordinance "authorizing all noblemen to take an interest in merchant ships, goods and merchandise, without being considered as having derogated from nobility, [55]provided they did not sell at retail;" and the reason given for this action was, "that it imports the good of our subjects and our own satisfaction, to efface the relic of a public opinion, universally prevalent, that maritime commerce is incompatible with nobility." But a prejudice involving conscious and open superiority is not readily effaced by ordinances, especially when vanity is a conspicuous trait in national character; and many years later Montesquieu taught that it is contrary to the spirit of monarchy that the nobility should engage in trade.
The noble classes of Europe inherited a disdain for peaceful trade from the Middle Ages, which has influenced its development based on the national character of various countries. The pride of the Spaniards aligned easily with this disdain and contributed to their reluctance to work and patiently build wealth, steering them away from commerce. In France, the vanity that even the French acknowledge as a national trait led to the same outcome. The size and prestige of the nobility reinforced a sense of inferiority toward a profession they looked down upon. Wealthy merchants and manufacturers longed for nobility's honors, and once they attained them, they left their profitable businesses. Thus, even though the hardworking population and fertile land prevented total collapse of commerce, it was pursued with a sense of shame that made its most talented individuals eager to leave it behind. Louis XIV, influenced by Colbert, issued a decree "authorizing all noblemen to invest in merchant ships, goods, and merchandise, without being deemed as having lowered their nobility, [55]as long as they did not engage in retail sales;" the justification given for this was, "that it benefits our subjects and satisfies our own interests to eliminate the lingering public belief that maritime commerce is incompatible with nobility." However, a bias rooted in conscious and overt superiority is not easily erased by laws, especially when vanity is a prominent aspect of national character; many years later, Montesquieu argued that it is against the essence of monarchy for the nobility to partake in trade.
In Holland there was a nobility; but the State was republican in name, allowed large scope to personal freedom and enterprise, and the centres of power were in the great cities. The foundation of the national greatness was money—or rather wealth. Wealth, as a source of civic distinction, carried with it also power in the State; and with power there went social position and consideration. In England the same result obtained. The nobility were proud; but in a representative government the power of wealth could be neither put down nor overshadowed. It was patent to the eyes of all; it was honored by all; and in England, as well as Holland, the occupations which were the source of wealth shared in the honor given to wealth itself. Thus, in all the countries named, social sentiment, the outcome of national characteristics, had a marked influence upon the national attitude toward trade.
In Holland, there was a nobility, but the government was republic, allowing a lot of personal freedom and entrepreneurship, with power centered in the major cities. The foundation of national greatness was money—or rather, wealth. Wealth, as a means of civic distinction, also brought power in the government; and with power came social status and respect. The same was true in England. The nobility were proud, but in a representative government, the influence of wealth couldn't be downplayed or ignored. It was clear to everyone; it was respected by all; and in England, just like in Holland, the professions that generated wealth were also honored. Therefore, in all these countries, public sentiment, shaped by national traits, significantly influenced the overall attitude toward trade.
In yet another way does the national genius affect the growth of sea power in its broadest sense; and that is in so far as it possesses the capacity for planting healthy colonies. Of colonization, as of all other growths, it is true that it is most healthy when it is most natural. Therefore colonies that spring from the felt wants and natural impulses of a whole people will have the most solid foundations; and their subsequent growth will be surest when they are least trammelled from home, if the people have the genius for independent action. Men of the past three centuries have keenly felt the value to the mother-country of colonies as outlets for the [56]home products and as a nursery for commerce and shipping; but efforts at colonization have not had the same general origin, nor have different systems all had the same success. The efforts of statesmen, however far-seeing and careful, have not been able to supply the lack of strong natural impulse; nor can the most minute regulation from home produce as good results as a happier neglect, when the germ of self-development is found in the national character. There has been no greater display of wisdom in the national administration of successful colonies than in that of unsuccessful. Perhaps there has been even less. If elaborate system and supervision, careful adaptation of means to ends, diligent nursing, could avail for colonial growth, the genius of England has less of this systematizing faculty than the genius of France; but England, not France, has been the great colonizer of the world. Successful colonization, with its consequent effect upon commerce and sea power, depends essentially upon national character; because colonies grow best when they grow of themselves, naturally. The character of the colonist, not the care of the home government, is the principle of the colony's growth.
In another way, national character influences the development of sea power in the broadest sense, particularly through its ability to establish healthy colonies. Like all forms of growth, colonization thrives when it occurs naturally. Therefore, colonies that emerge from the genuine needs and instincts of a whole nation will have the strongest foundations, and their growth will be most assured when they are least constrained by the home country, especially if the people possess the talent for independent action. Over the past three centuries, people have recognized the value of colonies to the mother country as outlets for local products and as incubators for trade and shipping; however, colonization efforts have not all originated from the same place, nor have different systems achieved the same level of success. Even the foresight and diligence of statesmen cannot replace a strong natural drive; no amount of meticulous regulation from the home country can yield better results than a more hands-off approach when the spirit of self-development is present in the national character. There has not been a significant difference in the quality of management of successful colonies compared to that of unsuccessful ones. In fact, the difference may even be smaller than expected. If intricate systems, strict oversight, thoughtful matching of resources to goals, and careful nurturing could ensure colonial growth, England would excel in this regard more than France. Yet, contrary to that, England has been the world’s leading colonizer, not France. Ultimately, the success of colonization and its impact on trade and sea power relies heavily on national character, because colonies thrive best when they develop organically and independently. The traits of the colonists, rather than the oversight of the home government, are the key to the growth of the colony.
This truth stands out the clearer because the general attitude of all the home governments toward their colonies was entirely selfish. However founded, as soon as it was recognized to be of consequence, the colony became to the home country a cow to be milked; to be cared for, of course, but chiefly as a piece of property valued for the returns it gave. Legislation was directed toward a monopoly of its external trade; the places in its government afforded posts of value for occupants from the mother-country; and the colony was looked upon, as the sea still so often is, as a fit place for those who were ungovernable or useless at home. The military administration, however, so long as it remains a colony, is the proper and necessary attribute of the home government.
This truth becomes even clearer because the overall attitude of all the home governments toward their colonies was completely selfish. Regardless of its foundations, as soon as the colony was recognized as important, it turned into a source of profit for the home country; it was cared for, of course, but mainly as a piece of property valued for the benefits it provided. Legislation aimed to create a monopoly on its external trade; positions in its government offered valuable roles for people from the mother country; and the colony was often seen, like the sea still is, as a suitable place for those who couldn't be controlled or were deemed useless at home. The military administration, however, as long as it remains a colony, is the proper and necessary responsibility of the home government.
The fact of England's unique and wonderful success as a great colonizing nation is too evident to be dwelt upon; and the reason for it appears to lie chiefly in two traits of the [57]national character. The English colonist naturally and readily settles down in his new country, identifies his interest with it, and though keeping an affectionate remembrance of the home from which he came, has no restless eagerness to return. In the second place, the Englishman at once and instinctively seeks to develop the resources of the new country in the broadest sense. In the former particular he differs from the French, who were ever longingly looking back to the delights of their pleasant land; in the latter, from the Spaniards, whose range of interest and ambition was too narrow for the full evolution of the possibilities of a new country.
The reality of England's remarkable success as a major colonizing nation is clear and doesn't need much explanation; the reasons for this seem to stem largely from two characteristics of the [57] national character. The English colonist naturally and easily settles into his new country, aligning his interests with it, and while he fondly remembers his homeland, he doesn't have a restless desire to go back. Additionally, the Englishman instinctively seeks to develop the resources of the new country in the broadest way possible. In this regard, he differs from the French, who were always wistfully looking back at the comforts of their homeland; and from the Spaniards, whose interests and ambitions were too limited to fully explore the potential of a new country.
The character and the necessities of the Dutch led them naturally to plant colonies; and by the year 1650 they had in the East Indies, in Africa, and in America a large number, only to name which would be tedious. They were then far ahead of England in this matter. But though the origin of these colonies, purely commercial in its character, was natural, there seems to have been lacking to them a principle of growth. "In planting them they never sought an extension of empire, but merely an acquisition of trade and commerce. They attempted conquest only when forced by the pressure of circumstances. Generally they were content to trade under the protection of the sovereign of the country." This placid satisfaction with gain alone, unaccompanied by political ambition, tended, like the despotism of France and Spain, to keep the colonies mere commercial dependencies upon the mother-country, and so killed the natural principle of growth.
The character and needs of the Dutch naturally led them to establish colonies; by 1650, they had a significant number in the East Indies, Africa, and America, and listing them all would be tedious. At that time, they were well ahead of England in this regard. However, although the origins of these colonies were purely commercial, there seemed to be a lack of a growth-oriented principle. “In establishing them, they never aimed for an expansion of empire, but only to gain trade and commerce. They pursued conquest only when pushed by circumstances. Generally, they were satisfied to trade under the protection of the local sovereign.” This calm contentment with just profit, without any political ambitions, tended, like the despotic rule of France and Spain, to keep the colonies as mere commercial dependencies of the mother country, thus stifling the natural principle of growth.
Before quitting this head of the inquiry, it is well to ask how far the national character of Americans is fitted to develop a great sea power, should other circumstances become favorable.
Before wrapping up this section of the inquiry, it's important to consider to what extent the national character of Americans is suited to build a great naval power if other conditions become favorable.
It seems scarcely necessary, however, to do more than appeal to a not very distant past to prove that, if legislative hindrances be removed, and more remunerative fields of enterprise filled up, the sea power will not long delay its appearance. The instinct for commerce, bold enterprise in [58]the pursuit of gain, and a keen scent for the trails that lead to it, all exist; and if there be in the future any fields calling for colonization, it cannot be doubted that Americans will carry to them all their inherited aptitude for self-government and independent growth.
It hardly seems necessary to do anything more than refer to a not-so-distant past to show that, if we remove legislative obstacles and fill more profitable areas of opportunity, sea power will show up before long. The drive for commerce, bold ventures in the pursuit of profit, and a sharp instinct for finding paths to it all exist; and if there are any areas in the future that need colonization, we can be sure that Americans will bring their natural abilities for self-governance and independent development with them.
VI. Character of the Government.—In discussing the effects upon the development of a nation's sea power exerted by its government and institutions, it will be necessary to avoid a tendency to over-philosophizing, to confine attention to obvious and immediate causes and their plain results, without prying too far beneath the surface for remote and ultimate influences.
VI. Character of the Government.—When discussing how a nation's government and institutions influence the growth of its sea power, it's important to avoid overthinking things. We should focus on the obvious and immediate causes and their straightforward effects, rather than digging too deep for distant and ultimate influences.
Nevertheless, it must be noted that particular forms of government with their accompanying institutions, and the character of rulers at one time or another, have exercised a very marked influence upon the development of sea power. The various traits of a country and its people which have so far been considered constitute the natural characteristics with which a nation, like a man, begins its career; the conduct of the government in turn corresponds to the exercise of the intelligent will-power, which, according as it is wise, energetic and persevering, or the reverse, causes success or failure in a man's life or a nation's history.
However, it's important to note that specific types of government along with their institutions and the nature of leaders at different times have had a significant impact on the development of naval power. The various qualities of a country and its people that we've discussed so far represent the inherent traits with which a nation, like a person, starts its journey; the actions of the government reflect the use of intelligent willpower, which, depending on whether it is wise, energetic, and persistent, or the opposite, leads to success or failure in a person's life or a nation's history.
It would seem probable that a government in full accord with the natural bias of its people would most successfully advance its growth in every respect; and, in the matter of sea power, the most brilliant successes have followed where there has been intelligent direction by a government fully imbued with the spirit of the people and conscious of its true general bent. Such a government is most certainly secured when the will of the people, or of their best natural exponents, has some large share in making it; but such free governments have sometimes fallen short, while on the other hand despotic power, wielded with judgment and consistency, has created at times a great sea commerce and a brilliant navy with greater directness than can be reached by the slower processes of a free people. The difficulty in the latter case [59]is to insure perseverance after the death of a particular despot.
It seems likely that a government that aligns with the natural tendencies of its people will be the most successful in promoting growth in every area. In terms of naval power, the greatest achievements have occurred when there has been smart leadership from a government that truly understands the spirit of the people and recognizes its overall direction. Such a government is best assured when the will of the people, or their most genuine representatives, plays a significant role in its establishment. However, free governments can sometimes fall short, while on the flip side, despotic regimes, when exercised with sound judgment and consistency, have at times built substantial maritime trade and impressive navies more quickly than the gradual efforts of a free society. The challenge in such cases [59] is to maintain that progress after the demise of a specific despot.
England having undoubtedly reached the greatest height of sea power of any modern nation, the action of her government first claims attention. In general direction this action has been consistent, though often far from praiseworthy. It has aimed steadily at the control of the sea. One of its most arrogant expressions dates back as far as the reign of James I., when she had scarce any possessions outside her own islands; before Virginia or Massachusetts was settled. Here is Richelieu's account of it:—
England has definitely achieved the highest level of naval power among modern nations, so the actions of its government deserve attention. Overall, these actions have been consistent, although often not admirable. They have consistently aimed for control of the sea. One of the most blatant demonstrations of this was during the reign of James I, when England had hardly any possessions outside its own islands, long before Virginia or Massachusetts were settled. Here is Richelieu's account of it:—
"The Duke of Sully, minister of Henry IV. [one of the most chivalrous princes that ever lived], having embarked at Calais in a French ship wearing the French flag at the main, was no sooner in the Channel than, meeting an English despatch-boat which was there to receive him, the commander of the latter ordered the French ship to lower her flag. The Duke, considering that his quality freed him from such an affront, boldly refused; but this refusal was followed by three cannon-shot, which, piercing his ship, pierced the heart likewise of all good Frenchmen. Might forced him to yield what right forbade, and for all the complaints he made he could get no better reply from the English captain than this: 'That just as his duty obliged him to honor the ambassador's rank, it also obliged him to exact the honor due to the flag of his master as sovereign of the sea.' If the words of King James himself were more polite, they nevertheless had no other effect than to compel the Duke to take counsel of his prudence, feigning to be satisfied, while his wound was all the time smarting and incurable. Henry the Great had to practise moderation on this occasion; but with the resolve another time to sustain the rights of his crown by the force that, with the aid of time, he should be able to put upon the sea."
"The Duke of Sully, the minister of Henry IV. [one of the most gallant princes ever], had just set sail from Calais on a French ship flying the French flag when he encountered an English dispatch boat in the Channel. The commander of the English vessel ordered the French ship to lower its flag. The Duke, believing his status exempted him from such an insult, firmly refused; however, this refusal resulted in three cannon shots fired at his ship, which not only struck his vessel but also struck the hearts of all loyal Frenchmen. Might compelled him to surrender what his rights forbade, and despite all his protests, the English captain replied that while he had a duty to respect the ambassador's rank, he also had to uphold the honor due to the flag of his sovereign, the master of the sea. Although King James's words were more courteous, they only forced the Duke to act with caution, pretending to accept the situation while he nursed a deep, festering wound. Henry the Great had to exercise restraint in this incident but was determined to defend his crown's rights with greater force in the future."
This act of unpardonable insolence, according to modern ideas, was not so much out of accord with the spirit of nations in that day. It is chiefly noteworthy as the most striking, as well as one of the earliest indications of the purpose of England to assert herself at all risks upon the sea; and the insult was offered under one of her most timid kings to an [60]ambassador immediately representing the bravest and ablest of French sovereigns. This empty honor of the flag, a claim insignificant except as the outward manifestation of the purpose of a government, was as rigidly exacted under Cromwell as under the kings. It was one of the conditions of peace yielded by the Dutch after their disastrous war of 1654. Cromwell, a despot in everything but name, was keenly alive to all that concerned England's honor and strength, and did not stop at barren salutes to promote them. Hardly yet possessed of power, the English navy sprang rapidly into a new life and vigor under his stern rule. England's rights, or reparation for her wrongs, were demanded by her fleets throughout the world,—in the Baltic, in the Mediterranean, against the Barbary States, in the West Indies; and under him the conquest of Jamaica began that extension of her empire, by force of arms, which has gone on to our own days. Nor were equally strong peaceful measures for the growth of English trade and shipping forgotten. Cromwell's celebrated Navigation Act declared that all imports into England or her colonies must be conveyed exclusively in vessels belonging to England herself, or to the country in which the products carried were grown or manufactured. This decree, aimed specially at the Dutch, the common carriers of Europe, was resented throughout the commercial world; but the benefit to England, in those days of national strife and animosity, was so apparent that it lasted long under the monarchy. A century and a quarter later we find Nelson, before his famous career had begun, showing his zeal for the welfare of England's shipping by enforcing this same act in the West Indies against American merchant-ships. When Cromwell was dead, and Charles II. sat on the throne of his father, this king, false to the English people, was yet true to England's greatness and to the traditional policy of her government on the sea. In his treacherous intrigues with Louis XIV., by which he aimed to make himself independent of Parliament and people, he wrote to Louis: "There are two impediments to a perfect union. The first is the great care France is now taking to create a commerce and to be an [61]imposing maritime power. This is so great a cause of suspicion with us, who can possess importance only by our commerce and our naval force, that every step which France takes in this direction will perpetuate the jealousy between the two nations." In the midst of the negotiations which preceded the detestable attack of the two kings upon the Dutch republic, a warm dispute arose as to who should command the united fleets of France and England. Charles was inflexible on this point. "It is the custom of the English," said he, "to command at sea;" and he told the French ambassador plainly that, were he to yield, his subjects would not obey him. In the projected partition of the United Provinces he reserved for England the maritime plunder in positions that controlled the mouths of the rivers Scheldt and Meuse. The navy under Charles preserved for some time the spirit and discipline impressed on it by Cromwell's iron rule; though later it shared in the general decay of morale which marked this evil reign. Monk, having by a great strategic blunder sent off a fourth of his fleet, found himself in 1666 in presence of a greatly superior Dutch force. Disregarding the odds, he attacked without hesitation, and for three days maintained the fight with honor, though with loss. Such conduct is not war; but in the single eye that looked to England's naval prestige and dictated his action, common as it was to England's people as well as to her government, has lain the secret of final success following many blunders through the centuries. Charles's successor, James II., was himself a seaman, and had commanded in two great sea-fights. When William III. came to the throne, the governments of England and Holland were under one hand, and continued united in one purpose against Louis XIV. until the Peace of Utrecht in 1713; that is, for a quarter of a century. The English government more and more steadily, and with conscious purpose, pushed on the extension of her sea dominion and fostered the growth of her sea power. While as an open enemy she struck at France upon the sea, so as an artful friend, many at least believed, she sapped the power of [62]Holland afloat. The treaty between the two countries provided that of the sea forces Holland should furnish three eighths, England five eighths, or nearly double. Such a provision, coupled with a further one which made Holland keep up an army of 102,000 against England's 40,000, virtually threw the land war on one and the sea war on the other. The tendency, whether designed or not, is evident; and at the peace, while Holland received compensation by land, England obtained, besides commercial privileges in France, Spain, and the Spanish West Indies, the important maritime concessions of Gibraltar and Port Mahon in the Mediterranean; of Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, and Hudson's Bay in North America. The naval power of France and Spain had disappeared; that of Holland thenceforth steadily declined. Posted thus in America, the West Indies, and the Mediterranean, the English government thenceforth moved firmly forward on the path which made of the English kingdom the British Empire. For the twenty-five years following the Peace of Utrecht, peace was the chief aim of the ministers who directed the policy of the two great seaboard nations, France and England; but amid all the fluctuations of continental politics in a most unsettled period, abounding in petty wars and shifty treaties, the eye of England was steadily fixed on the maintenance of her sea power. In the Baltic, her fleets checked the attempts of Peter the Great upon Sweden, and so maintained a balance of power in that sea, from which she drew not only a great trade but the chief part of her naval stores, and which the Czar aimed to make a Russian lake. Denmark endeavored to establish an East India company aided by foreign capital; England and Holland not only forbade their subjects to join it, but threatened Denmark, and thus stopped an enterprise they thought adverse to their sea interests. In the Netherlands, which by the Utrecht Treaty had passed to Austria, a similar East India company, having Ostend for its port, was formed, with the emperor's sanction. This step, meant to restore to the Low Countries the trade lost to them through their natural outlet of the Scheldt, was opposed by [63]the sea powers England and Holland; and their greediness for the monopoly of trade, helped in this instance by France, stifled this company also after a few years of struggling life. In the Mediterranean, the Utrecht settlement was disturbed by the emperor of Austria, England's natural ally in the then existing state of European politics. Backed by England, he, having already Naples, claimed also Sicily in exchange for Sardinia. Spain resisted; and her navy, just beginning to revive under a vigorous minister, Alberoni, was crushed and annihilated by the English fleet off Cape Passaro in 1718; while the following year a French army, at the bidding of England, crossed the Pyrenees and completed the work by destroying the Spanish dock-yards. Thus England, in addition to Gibraltar and Mahon in her own hands, saw Naples and Sicily in those of a friend, while an enemy was struck down. In Spanish America, the limited privileges to English trade, wrung from the necessities of Spain, were abused by an extensive and scarcely disguised smuggling system; and when the exasperated Spanish government gave way to excesses in the mode of suppression, both the minister who counselled peace and the opposition which urged war defended their opinions by alleging the effects of either upon England's sea power and honor. While England's policy thus steadily aimed at widening and strengthening the bases of her sway upon the ocean, the other governments of Europe seemed blind to the dangers to be feared from her sea growth. The miseries resulting from the overweening power of Spain in days long gone by seemed to be forgotten; forgotten also the more recent lesson of the bloody and costly wars provoked by the ambition and exaggerated power of Louis XIV. Under the eyes of the statesmen of Europe there was steadily and visibly being built up a third overwhelming power, destined to be used as selfishly, as aggressively, though not as cruelly, and much more successfully than any that had preceded it. This was the power of the sea, whose workings, because more silent than the clash of arms, are less often noted, though lying clearly enough on the surface. It can scarcely be denied [64]that England's uncontrolled dominion of the seas, during almost the whole period chosen for our subject, was by long odds the chief among the military factors that determined the final issue.[8] So far, however, was this influence from being foreseen after Utrecht, that France for twelve years, moved by personal exigencies of her rulers, sided with England against Spain; and when Fleuri came into power in 1726, though this policy was reversed, the navy of France received no attention, and the only blow at England was the establishment of a Bourbon prince, a natural enemy to her, upon the throne of the two Sicilies in 1736. When war broke out with Spain in 1739, the navy of England was in numbers more than equal to the combined navies of Spain and France; and during the quarter of a century of nearly uninterrupted war that followed, this numerical disproportion increased. In these wars England, at first instinctively, afterward with conscious purpose under a government that recognized her opportunity and the possibilities of her great sea power, rapidly built up that mighty colonial empire whose foundations were already securely laid in the characteristics of her colonists and the strength of her fleets. In strictly European affairs her wealth, the outcome of her sea power, made her play a conspicuous part during the same period. The system of subsidies, which began half a century before in the wars of Marlborough and received its most extensive development half a century later in the Napoleonic wars, maintained the efforts of her allies, which would have been crippled, if not paralyzed, without them. Who can deny that the government which with one hand strengthened its fainting allies on the continent with the life-blood of money, and with the other drove its own enemies off the sea and out of their chief possessions, Canada, Martinique, Guadeloupe, Havana, Manila, gave to its country [65]the foremost rôle in European politics; and who can fail to see that the power which dwelt in that government, with a land narrow in extent and poor in resources, sprang directly from the sea? The policy in which the English government carried on the war is shown by a speech of Pitt, the master-spirit during its course, though he lost office before bringing it to an end. Condemning the Peace of 1763, made by his political opponent, he said: "France is chiefly, if not exclusively, formidable to us as a maritime and commercial power. What we gain in this respect is valuable to us, above all, through the injury to her which results from it. You have left to France the possibility of reviving her navy." Yet England's gains were enormous; her rule in India was assured, and all North America east of the Mississippi in her hands. By this time the onward path of her government was clearly marked out, had assumed the force of a tradition, and was consistently followed. The war of the American Revolution was, it is true, a great mistake, looked at from the point of view of sea power; but the government was led into it insensibly by a series of natural blunders. Putting aside political and constitutional considerations, and looking at the question as purely military or naval, the case was this: The American colonies were large and growing communities at a great distance from England. So long as they remained attached to the mother-country, as they then were enthusiastically, they formed a solid base for her sea power in that part of the world; but their extent and population were too great, when coupled with the distance from England, to afford any hope of holding them by force, if any powerful nations were willing to help them. This "if," however, involved a notorious probability; the humiliation of France and Spain was so bitter and so recent that they were sure to seek revenge, and it was well known that France in particular had been carefully and rapidly building up her navy. Had the colonies been thirteen islands, the sea power of England would quickly have settled the question; but instead of such a physical barrier they were separated only by local jealousies which a [66]common danger sufficiently overcame. To enter deliberately on such a contest, to try to hold by force so extensive a territory, with a large hostile population, so far from home, was to renew the Seven Years' War with France and Spain, and with the Americans, against, instead of for, England. The Seven Years' War had been so heavy a burden that a wise government would have known that the added weight could not be borne, and have seen it was necessary to conciliate the colonists. The government of the day was not wise, and a large element of England's sea power was sacrificed; but by mistake, not wilfully; through arrogance, not through weakness.
This act of unforgivable arrogance, according to today's standards, wasn't actually so out of line with the attitudes of nations back then. It’s mainly significant as one of the most noticeable and early signs of England’s intention to assert itself on the sea at all costs; and this affront was directed at an [60]ambassador who represented the bravest and most capable of French kings, despite being offered under one of England's most timid kings. This symbolic honor of the flag, a claim that seemed trivial except as a clear expression of a government's intent, was enforced just as strictly under Cromwell as it was under the kings. It was one of the terms of peace agreed upon by the Dutch after their devastating war of 1654. Cromwell, who was a tyrant in everything but name, was very aware of what mattered to England's respect and power, and didn’t settle for empty gestures to achieve them. Still not firmly in control, the English navy rapidly revitalized under his strict leadership. England’s rights, or compensation for her grievances, were demanded by her fleets all around the world—in the Baltic, the Mediterranean, against the Barbary States, and in the West Indies; and under his leadership, the conquest of Jamaica marked the beginning of her empire’s expansion by military force, a trend that has continued to our present day. Equally strong peaceful measures for the growth of English trade and shipping weren’t neglected either. Cromwell’s well-known Navigation Act stated that all imports into England or her colonies must be transported exclusively on ships that belonged to England or to the country where the goods were grown or manufactured. This legislation, aimed primarily at the Dutch, who were Europe’s common carriers, was resented throughout the trading world; but the advantage to England during those turbulent times was so clear that it persisted long into the monarchy. A century and a quarter later, we find Nelson, before his illustrious career began, showing his commitment to the welfare of England’s shipping by enforcing this same act in the West Indies against American merchant ships. After Cromwell's death, when Charles II sat on his father's throne, this king, unfaithful to the English people, remained loyal to England’s greatness and traditional maritime policy. In his deceitful dealings with Louis XIV., aimed at making himself independent of Parliament and the public, he wrote to Louis: "There are two obstacles to perfect unity. The first is the significant effort France is making to build up its commerce and to become a strong maritime power. This is such a source of suspicion for us, who can only gain importance through our trade and naval power, that every move France makes in this area will maintain the rivalry between our two nations." During the negotiations that took place before the disgraceful attack by the two kings on the Dutch Republic, a heated argument arose about who would command the united fleets of France and England. Charles was firm on this issue. "It is the custom of the English," he said, "to lead at sea;" and he bluntly told the French ambassador that if he conceded, his subjects would not obey him. In the planned division of the United Provinces, he reserved for England the naval spoils in vital positions controlling the mouths of the Scheldt and Meuse rivers. The navy under Charles retained, for a time, the spirit and discipline instilled by Cromwell’s strict governance; although later it succumbed to the general decline of morale that characterized this troubled reign. Monk, having made a major strategic error by sending away a quarter of his fleet, found himself in 1666 facing a vastly superior Dutch force. Ignoring the odds, he launched an attack without hesitation and for three days fought valiantly, though with losses. Such conduct is not warfare; but in the single-minded focus on England's naval prestige that guided his actions, a mindset shared by both the English people and their government, lies the secret to the eventual success that followed many mistakes over the centuries. Charles's successor, James II, was a sailor himself and had commanded in two significant naval battles. When William III ascended to the throne, the governments of England and Holland were united, continuing in a shared goal against Louis XIV. until the Peace of Utrecht in 1713; a time span of a quarter-century. The English government steadily and intentionally pushed for the expansion of its maritime power and encouraged the growth of its naval supremacy. While openly combating France at sea, as a cunning ally, many believed she also weakened the naval power of [62]Holland. The treaty between the two nations stipulated that of the sea forces, Holland would supply three-eighths while England would contribute five-eighths, or nearly double. Such a provision, combined with another that required Holland to maintain an army of 102,000 against England's 40,000, effectively put the land war on one side and the naval war on the other. The pattern, whether intentional or not, was clear; and at the peace talks, while Holland received land compensation, England gained, along with commercial benefits in France, Spain, and the Spanish West Indies, the key maritime concessions of Gibraltar and Port Mahon in the Mediterranean, as well as Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, and Hudson's Bay in North America. The naval power of France and Spain had diminished; that of Holland steadily fell off afterward. Positioned in America, the West Indies, and the Mediterranean, the English government moved confidently forward on the path that would transform the English kingdom into the British Empire. For the twenty-five years following the Peace of Utrecht, peace became the main goal of the ministers steering the policies of the two major naval nations, France and England; but amid the ups and downs of continental politics during a very unstable period, rife with petty conflicts and unreliable treaties, England kept its focus on maintaining its naval power. In the Baltic, her fleets countered Peter the Great’s attempts against Sweden, helping to maintain a balance of power in that sea, which provided not only substantial trade but also most of her naval supplies, and which the Czar aimed to convert into a Russian territory. Denmark tried to set up an East India company with foreign investment; however, England and Holland not only prohibited their nationals from joining but also threatened Denmark, effectively halting an endeavor they viewed as threatening to their maritime interests. In the Netherlands, which had transitioned to Austrian control after the Utrecht Treaty, a similar East India company was created with Ostend as its port, sanctioned by the emperor. This initiative, intended to restore trade lost through the natural outlet of the Scheldt, was opposed by [63]the maritime powers of England and Holland, and their greed for trade monopoly, aided in this instance by France, ultimately crushed this company after only a few years of struggling existence. In the Mediterranean, the Utrecht settlement faced disturbances from the emperor of Austria, a natural ally of England during the shifting landscape of European politics. Supported by England, having already taken Naples, he sought Sicily in exchange for Sardinia. Spain pushed back, and her navy, just beginning to revive under an energetic minister, Alberoni, was defeated and annihilated by the English fleet off Cape Passaro in 1718; the following year, a French army, at England’s request, crossed the Pyrenees to finalize the destruction of the Spanish shipyards. Thus, England, in addition to controlling Gibraltar and Mahon, saw Naples and Sicily in friendly hands while striking down an enemy. In Spanish America, the limited concessions made to English trade, forced from Spain's necessities, were exploited through an extensive and barely concealed smuggling operation; and when the frustrated Spanish government resorted to extreme measures to suppress it, both the minister advocating peace and the opposition pushing for war justified their positions by citing the impact of each on England's naval power and honor. While England’s policies consistently aimed to broaden and fortify her offshore dominance, other European governments appeared oblivious to the threats posed by her maritime expansion. The suffering caused by Spain’s overwhelming power in long-ago days seemed forgotten; and so too did the more recent lesson of the bloody, costly wars incited by Louis XIV's ambition and excessive power. Right in front of European statesmen, a third formidable power was gradually and visibly emerging, destined to be utilized just as selfishly and aggressively, though less brutally, and with more success than any that had come before it. This was the power of the sea, whose influence, being more subtle than armed conflict, is less often acknowledged, even though it is clearly visible. It can hardly be denied [64]that England’s uncontested dominance over the seas, for almost the entire period we've been discussing, was by far the primary military factor determining the final outcome.[8] However, this influence was far from being anticipated after Utrecht, as for twelve years, driven by the personal needs of her leaders, France allied with England against Spain; and when Fleuri took power in 1726, although this policy shifted, the French navy received little attention, and the only blow to England was the establishment of a Bourbon prince, a natural rival, on the throne of the Two Sicilies in 1736. When war erupted with Spain in 1739, the English navy outnumbered the combined fleets of Spain and France; and during the quarter-century of nearly continuous conflict that followed, this numerical advantage only grew. In these wars, England, initially acting on instinct, and later with intention under a government that recognized its opportunities and the potential of its vast maritime strength, quickly built up that formidable colonial empire whose foundations were already solidly laid in the character of her colonists and the might of her navies. In strictly European matters, her wealth, derived from her naval power, allowed her to play a prominent role during the same period. The system of subsidies, which began fifty years prior in Marlborough’s wars and received its broadest application half a century later during the Napoleonic conflicts, sustained the efforts of her allies, which would have been crippled or even paralyzed without them. Who can deny that the government that, with one hand, bolstered its faltering European allies with monetary support and, with the other, forced its own enemies from the sea and out of their main possessions—Canada, Martinique, Guadeloupe, Havana, Manila—placed its country [65] in a leading position in European dynamics; and who can fail to see that the power residing in that government, which managed a landmass small in size and poor in resources, was derived directly from the sea? The strategy the English government pursued during the war is reflected in a speech by Pitt, the driving force throughout its course, although he left office before its conclusion. Criticizing the Peace of 1763, negotiated by his political rival, he remarked: "France is primarily, if not exclusively, a threat to us as a maritime and commercial power. What we gain in this regard benefits us chiefly by harming her." You left France with the chance to revive her navy." Nonetheless, England's achievements were immense; her rule in India was secured, and all of North America east of the Mississippi was under her control. By then, the path of her governance was clearly defined, had gained the force of a tradition, and was consistently pursued. The American Revolution was, indeed, a major blunder from the viewpoint of naval strength; however, the government was unwittingly led into it by a series of natural missteps. Setting aside political and constitutional factors, and examining the situation purely from a military or naval perspective, the scenario was this: The American colonies were expansive and growing communities situated far from England. As long as they remained connected to the motherland, as they were at the time, they formed a solid foundation for her maritime dominance in that region; but their vast size and population made it unrealistic to hold them by force if any powerful nations were willing to support them. This "if," however, implied a well-known likelihood; the humiliation faced by France and Spain was so harsh and so recent that they were bound to seek revenge, and it was well understood that France, in particular, had been diligently and swiftly bolstering her navy. Had the colonies been thirteen small islands, England’s naval strength would have quickly resolved the issue; but instead of such a physical separation, they were only distinct by local rivalries that a [66]common threat sufficiently overcame. To intentionally engage in such a confrontation, trying to hold onto such a vast territory with a large hostile population so far from home, was to simply restart the Seven Years' War with France and Spain, this time against, rather than in favor of, England. The Seven Years' War had been such a heavy burden that any wise government would have recognized that an additional strain couldn't be managed and would have seen the need to reconcile with the colonists. The government of that time was not wise, and a significant portion of England's naval power was sacrificed; but it was a mistake, not by design; out of arrogance, not weakness.
This steady keeping to a general line of policy was doubtless made specially easy for successive English governments by the clear indications of the country's conditions. Singleness of purpose was to some extent imposed. The firm maintenance of her sea power, the haughty determination to make it felt, the wise state of preparation in which its military element was kept, were yet more due to that feature of her political institutions which practically gave the government, during the period in question, into the hands of a class,—a landed aristocracy. Such a class, whatever its defects otherwise, readily takes up and carries on a sound political tradition, is naturally proud of its country's glory, and comparatively insensible to the sufferings of the community by which that glory is maintained. It readily lays on the pecuniary burden necessary for preparation and for endurance of war. Being as a body rich, it feels those burdens less. Not being commercial, the sources of its own wealth are not so immediately endangered, and it does not share that political timidity which characterizes those whose property is exposed and business threatened,—the proverbial timidity of capital. Yet in England this class was not insensible to anything that touched her trade for good or ill. Both houses of Parliament vied in careful watchfulness over its extension and protection, and to the frequency of their inquiries a naval historian attributes the increased efficiency of the executive power in its management of the navy. Such a class also naturally imbibes and [67]keeps up a spirit of military honor, which is of the first importance in ages when military institutions have not yet provided the sufficient substitute in what is called esprit-de-corps. But although full of class feeling and class prejudice, which made themselves felt in the navy as well as elsewhere, their practical sense left open the way of promotion to its highest honors to the more humbly born; and every age saw admirals who had sprung from the lowest of the people. In this the temper of the English upper class differed markedly from that of the French. As late as 1789, at the outbreak of the Revolution, the French Navy List still bore the name of an official whose duty was to verify the proofs of noble birth on the part of those intending to enter the naval school.
This consistent adherence to a general policy was likely made easier for successive English governments by the clear signs of the country’s conditions. A unified purpose was somewhat imposed. The strong maintenance of naval power, the arrogant determination to assert it, and the careful state of readiness in which its military aspect was kept were largely due to a feature of the political system that effectively placed power in the hands of a social class—a landed aristocracy. This class, despite its flaws, easily adopts and continues a solid political tradition, is naturally proud of the nation's glory, and tends to be relatively indifferent to the suffering of the society that maintains that glory. It readily accepts the financial burdens necessary for preparation and for enduring war. Being wealthy as a whole, it feels those burdens less. As it is not commercial, its own wealth sources are not immediately threatened, and it does not share the political fear characteristic of those whose assets are vulnerable and businesses at risk—the well-known fear of capital. However, in England, this class was very much aware of anything that affected trade positively or negatively. Both houses of Parliament competed to closely monitor its expansion and protection, and a naval historian attributes the increased efficiency of executive power in managing the navy to the frequency of their inquiries. This class also naturally fosters and maintains a spirit of military honor, which is crucial in times when military institutions have not yet established a sufficient alternative in what is called *esprit-de-corps*. Although filled with class sentiment and prejudice that influenced the navy and other areas, their practical sensibilities allowed for the highest honors to be attainable by those of humble origins, and every era included admirals who emerged from the lower classes. In this respect, the attitude of the English upper class contrasted sharply with that of the French. As late as 1789, at the beginning of the Revolution, the French Navy List still featured an official responsible for verifying the noble birth credentials of those seeking admission to the naval school.
Since 1815, and especially in our own day, the government of England has passed very much more into the hands of the people at large. Whether her sea power will suffer therefrom remains to be seen. Its broad basis still remains in a great trade, large mechanical industries, and an extensive colonial system. Whether a democratic government will have the foresight, the keen sensitiveness to national position and credit, the willingness to insure its prosperity by adequate outpouring of money in times of peace, all which are necessary for military preparation, is yet an open question. Popular governments are not generally favorable to military expenditure, however necessary, and there are signs that England tends to drop behind.
Since 1815, and especially in our time, the government of England has shifted much more into the hands of the general public. Whether this will affect her naval power remains to be seen. Its strong foundation still lies in substantial trade, large manufacturing industries, and a vast colonial system. Whether a democratic government will have the insight, sensitivity to national standing and credit, and the willingness to ensure its prosperity by adequately spending money during peacetime—factors essential for military readiness—remains uncertain. Popular governments typically aren’t supportive of military spending, no matter how necessary it might be, and there are indications that England is starting to fall behind.
It has already been seen that the Dutch Republic, even more than the English nation, drew its prosperity and its very life from the sea. The character and policy of its government were far less favorable to a consistent support of sea power. Composed of seven provinces, with the political name of the United Provinces, the actual distribution of power may be roughly described to Americans as an exaggerated example of States Rights. Each of the maritime provinces had its own fleet and its own admiralty, with consequent jealousies. This disorganizing tendency was partly counteracted by the great preponderance of the Province of Holland, which alone [68]contributed five sixths of the fleet and fifty-eight per cent of the taxes, and consequently had a proportionate share in directing the national policy. Although intensely patriotic, and capable of making the last sacrifices for freedom, the commercial spirit of the people penetrated the government, which indeed might be called a commercial aristocracy, and made it averse to war, and to the expenditures which are necessary in preparing for war. As has before been said, it was not until danger stared them in the face that the burgomasters were willing to pay for their defences. While the republican government lasted, however, this economy was practised least of all upon the fleet; and until the death of John De Witt, in 1672, and the peace with England in 1674, the Dutch navy was in point of numbers and equipment able to make a fair show against the combined navies of England and France. Its efficiency at this time undoubtedly saved the country from the destruction planned by the two kings. With De Witt's death the republic passed away, and was followed by the practically monarchical government of William of Orange. The life-long policy of this prince, then only eighteen, was resistance to Louis XIV. and to the extension of French power. This resistance took shape upon the land rather than the sea,—a tendency promoted by England's withdrawal from the war. As early as 1676, Admiral De Ruyter found the force given him unequal to cope with the French alone. With the eyes of the government fixed on the land frontier, the navy rapidly declined. In 1688, when William of Orange needed a fleet to convoy him to England, the burgomasters of Amsterdam objected that the navy was incalculably decreased in strength, as well as deprived of its ablest commanders. When king of England, William still kept his position as stadtholder, and with it his general European policy. He found in England the sea power he needed, and used the resources of Holland for the land war. This Dutch prince consented that in the allied fleets, in councils of war, the Dutch admirals should sit below the junior English captain; and Dutch interests at sea were sacrificed as readily as Dutch pride to the demands of [69]England. When William died, his policy was still followed by the government which succeeded him. Its aims were wholly centred upon the land, and at the Peace of Utrecht, which closed a series of wars extending over forty years, Holland, having established no sea claim, gained nothing in the way of sea resources, of colonial extension, or of commerce.
It has already been established that the Dutch Republic, even more than England, thrived on the sea for its prosperity and very existence. The nature and policies of its government were far less supportive of maintaining a strong naval presence. Consisting of seven provinces collectively known as the United Provinces, the political power distribution can be roughly compared to an extreme version of States Rights. Each maritime province operated its own fleet and admiralty, which led to rivalries. This disorganized structure was partially balanced by the significant influence of the Province of Holland, which alone contributed five-sixths of the fleet and fifty-eight percent of the taxes, thus having a corresponding role in shaping national policy. Although deeply patriotic and willing to make sacrifices for freedom, the commercial mindset of the people permeated the government, which could be described as a commercial aristocracy, making it resistant to war and the necessary expenditures for military preparedness. As mentioned before, it wasn't until they faced immediate danger that the burgomasters agreed to fund their defenses. However, during the existence of the republican government, the least economy was practiced on the fleet; and until John De Witt's death in 1672, and the peace with England in 1674, the Dutch navy was sufficiently strong in numbers and equipment to effectively contend with the combined navies of England and France. Its effectiveness at this time undoubtedly protected the country from the destruction planned by the two monarchs. With De Witt's death, the republic came to an end and was succeeded by the nearly monarchical government of William of Orange. This prince, who was only eighteen, was committed to resisting Louis XIV and the expansion of French power. This resistance was more focused on land than at sea—a shift encouraged by England's withdrawal from the conflict. As early as 1676, Admiral De Ruyter found that his forces were inadequate to face the French alone. With the government's attention on the land border, the navy quickly deteriorated. In 1688, when William of Orange needed a fleet to escort him to England, the burgomasters of Amsterdam pointed out that the navy had drastically lost strength and was lacking in its best commanders. Even as king of England, William retained his role as stadtholder and continued his overall European strategy. He found the naval power he required in England and utilized Holland's resources for land warfare. This Dutch prince agreed that in the allied fleets, during councils of war, Dutch admirals would rank below junior English captains; and Dutch maritime interests were sacrificed as easily as Dutch pride to meet England's demands. Following William's death, his policies continued under the succeeding government, which remained focused on land. At the Peace of Utrecht, which concluded a series of wars lasting over forty years, Holland did not secure any claims at sea, gaining nothing in terms of maritime resources, colonial expansion, or trade.
Of the last of these wars an English historian says: "The economy of the Dutch greatly hurt their reputation and their trade. Their men-of-war in the Mediterranean were always victualled short, and their convoys were so weak and ill-provided that for one ship that we lost, they lost five, which begat a general notion that we were the safer carriers, which certainly had a good effect. Hence it was that our trade rather increased than diminished in this war."
Of the last of these wars, an English historian says: "The Dutch economy really damaged their reputation and trade. Their warships in the Mediterranean were always poorly stocked with supplies, and their convoys were so weak and poorly equipped that for every ship we lost, they lost five. This created a general belief that we were the safer carriers, which definitely had a positive effect. As a result, our trade actually increased rather than decreased during this war."
From that time Holland ceased to have a great sea power, and rapidly lost the leading position among the nations which that power had built up. It is only just to say that no policy could have saved from decline this small, though determined, nation, in face of the persistent enmity of Louis XIV. The friendship of France, insuring peace on her landward frontier, would have enabled her, at least for a longer time, to dispute with England the dominion of the seas; and as allies the navies of the two continental States might have checked the growth of the enormous sea power which has just been considered. Sea peace between England and Holland was only possible by the virtual subjection of one or the other, for both aimed at the same object. Between France and Holland it was otherwise; and the fall of Holland proceeded, not necessarily from her inferior size and numbers, but from faulty policy on the part of the two governments. It does not concern us to decide which was the more to blame.
From that time, Holland stopped being a major sea power and quickly lost its leading position among the nations that power had established. It’s fair to say that no policy could have prevented the decline of this small but determined nation in the face of Louis XIV's ongoing hostility. If France had been friends with Holland, ensuring peace on her land border, it would have allowed Holland to compete with England for control of the seas for a longer period. As allies, the navies of the two continental nations could have countered the rise of the massive sea power we just discussed. Peace at sea between England and Holland was only achievable through the practical subjugation of one or the other, as both were pursuing the same goal. The situation was different with France and Holland. The decline of Holland was not solely due to its smaller size and numbers, but rather due to poor policy decisions from the two governments. It doesn't matter to us which government was more at fault.
France, admirably situated for the possession of sea power, received a definite policy for the guidance of her government from two great rulers, Henry IV. and Richelieu. With certain well-defined projects of extension eastward upon the land were combined a steady resistance to the House of Austria, which then ruled in both Austria and Spain, and an equal [70]purpose of resistance to England upon the sea. To further this latter end, as well as for other reasons, Holland was to be courted as an ally. Commerce and fisheries as the basis of sea power were to be encouraged, and a military navy was to be built up. Richelieu left what he called his political will, in which he pointed out the opportunities of France for achieving sea power, based upon her position and resources; and French writers consider him the virtual founder of the navy, not merely because he equipped ships, but from the breadth of his views and his measures to insure sound institutions and steady growth. After his death, Mazarin inherited his views and general policy, but not his lofty and martial spirit, and during his rule the newly formed navy disappeared. When Louis XIV. took the government into his own hands, in 1661, there were but thirty ships of war, of which only three had as many as sixty guns. Then began a most astonishing manifestation of the work which can be done by absolute government ably and systematically wielded. That part of the administration which dealt with trade, manufactures, shipping, and colonies, was given to a man of great practical genius, Colbert, who had served with Richelieu and had drunk in fully his ideas and policy. He pursued his aims in a spirit thoroughly French. Everything was to be organized, the spring of everything was in the minister's cabinet. "To organize producers and merchants as a powerful army, subjected to an active and intelligent guidance, so as to secure an industrial victory for France by order and unity of efforts, and to obtain the best products by imposing on all workmen the processes recognized as best by competent men.... To organize seamen and distant commerce in large bodies like the manufactures and internal commerce, and to give as a support to the commercial power of France a navy established on a firm basis and of dimensions hitherto unknown,"—such, we are told, were the aims of Colbert as regards two of the three links in the chain of sea power. For the third, the colonies at the far end of the line, the same governmental direction and organization were evidently purposed; for the [71]government began by buying back Canada, Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, and the French West India Islands from the parties who then owned them. Here, then, is seen pure, absolute, uncontrolled power gathering up into its hands all the reins for the guidance of a nation's course, and proposing so to direct it as to make, among other things, a great sea power.
France, ideally positioned to have naval power, got clear guidance for its government from two major leaders, Henry IV and Richelieu. They combined specific plans to expand eastward on land with a consistent opposition to the House of Austria, which controlled both Austria and Spain at the time, and a similar aim to resist England at sea. To support this goal, as well as for other reasons, Holland was sought as an ally. Commerce and fisheries were encouraged as the foundation of naval strength, and a military navy was to be developed. Richelieu left behind what he called his political will, highlighting France's opportunities for achieving naval power based on its position and resources; French writers see him as the true founder of the navy, not just because he equipped ships but due to the broadness of his vision and his efforts to ensure strong institutions and steady growth. After his death, Mazarin took on his ideas and policies but lacked his lofty and martial spirit, leading to the decline of the newly formed navy during his reign. When Louis XIV took control in 1661, there were only thirty warships, with just three having as many as sixty guns. This marked the beginning of impressive results that could be achieved by effectively managed absolute government. The part of the administration that focused on trade, manufacturing, shipping, and colonies was assigned to a highly skilled practical leader, Colbert, who had worked with Richelieu and fully embraced his ideas. He pursued his goals with a distinctly French spirit. Everything was to be organized, with the minister's cabinet at the center of it all. "The plan was to organize producers and merchants into a powerful force, directed by active and intelligent leadership, to secure an industrial victory for France through order and coordinated efforts, and to get the best products by imposing the best-recognized processes on all workers.... The aim was also to organize seafarers and overseas trade in large groups, similar to manufacturing and internal commerce, and to give a solid foundation and previously unseen scale to the commercial power of France through a navy,"—such were Colbert's goals regarding two of the three essential components of naval power. For the third component, the colonies at the far end, the same governmental direction and organization were clearly intended; the government began by buying back Canada, Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, and the French West Indies from their current owners. Here, we see pure, absolute, and uncontested power consolidating all the reins to guide the course of a nation, aiming to shape it into a significant naval power among other goals.
To enter into the details of Colbert's action is beyond our purpose. It is enough to note the chief part played by the government in building up the sea power of the State, and that this very great man looked not to any one of the bases on which it rests to the exclusion of the others, but embraced them all in his wise and provident administration. Agriculture, which increases the products of the earth, and manufactures, which multiply the products of man's industry; internal trade routes and regulations, by which the exchange of products from the interior to the exterior is made easier; shipping and customs regulations tending to throw the carrying-trade into French hands, and so to encourage the building of French shipping, by which the home and colonial products should be carried back and forth; colonial administration and development, by which a far-off market might be continually growing up to be monopolized by the home trade; treaties with foreign States favoring French trade, and imposts on foreign ships and products tending to break down that of rival nations,—all these means, embracing countless details, were employed to build up for France (1) Production; (2) Shipping; (3) Colonies and Markets,—in a word, sea power. The study of such a work is simpler and easier when thus done by one man, sketched out by a kind of logical process, than when slowly wrought by conflicting interests in a more complex government. In the few years of Colbert's administration is seen the whole theory of sea power put into practice in the systematic, centralizing French way; while the illustration of the same theory in English and Dutch history is spread over generations. Such growth, however, was forced, and depended upon the endurance of the absolute power which watched over it; and as Colbert was not king, his [72]control lasted only till he lost the king's favor. It is, however, most interesting to note the results of his labors in the proper field for governmental action—in the navy. It has been said that in 1661, when he took office, there were but thirty armed ships, of which three only had over sixty guns. In 1666 there were seventy, of which fifty were ships of the line and twenty were fire-ships; in 1671, from seventy the number had increased to one hundred and ninety-six. In 1683 there were one hundred and seven ships of from twenty-four to one hundred and twenty guns, twelve of which carried over seventy-six guns, besides many smaller vessels. The order and system introduced into the dock-yards made them vastly more efficient than the English. An English captain, a prisoner in France while the effect of Colbert's work still lasted in the hands of his son, writes:—
Going into the details of Colbert's actions isn't our focus here. It's enough to highlight the key role the government played in strengthening the State's naval power, and that this remarkable man didn't prioritize one area over the others; instead, he effectively integrated them all in his intelligent and forward-thinking administration. Agriculture, which boosts the earth's output, and manufacturing, which increases what people can create; internal trade routes and regulations that simplify the exchange of goods between the interior and the exterior; shipping and customs regulations that aimed to secure the carrying trade for France, thus promoting the construction of French ships to transport domestic and colonial goods; colonial governance and development, creating distant markets to be dominated by domestic trade; treaties with foreign nations to benefit French trade, and tariffs on foreign ships and goods designed to undercut competing nations—all these strategies, encompassing countless details, were employed to build up for France (1) Production; (2) Shipping; (3) Colonies and Markets—essentially, naval power. Studying such efforts is easier when led by a single individual, logically outlined, rather than slowly developed through conflicting interests in a more complicated government. In the brief span of Colbert's administration, we see the entire theory of naval power put into action in a systematic, centralized French manner, while similar examples from English and Dutch history unfold over generations. However, this growth was forceful and relied on the lasting authority that oversaw it; and because Colbert was not the king, his [72] control lasted only until he lost the king’s favor. Nonetheless, it's fascinating to observe the outcome of his efforts in the appropriate area for government action—in the navy. It has been noted that in 1661, when he assumed office, there were only thirty armed ships, and just three had over sixty guns. By 1666, that number had risen to seventy, including fifty ships of the line and twenty fire-ships; by 1671, it climbed from seventy to one hundred and ninety-six. In 1683, there were one hundred and seven ships carrying between twenty-four and one hundred and twenty guns, twelve of which had over seventy-six guns, in addition to numerous smaller vessels. The order and system implemented in the dockyards made them significantly more efficient than those in England. An English captain, who was a prisoner in France while the impact of Colbert’s work still persisted under his son's management, writes:—
"When I was first brought prisoner thither, I lay four months in a hospital at Brest for care of my wounds. While there I was astonished at the expedition used in manning and fitting out their ships, which till then I thought could be done nowhere sooner than in England, where we have ten times the shipping, and consequently ten times the seamen, they have in France; but there I saw twenty sail of ships, of about sixty guns each, got ready in twenty days' time; they were brought in and the men were discharged; and upon an order from Paris they were careened, keeled up, rigged, victualled, manned, and out again in the said time with the greatest ease imaginable. I likewise saw a ship of one hundred guns that had all her guns taken out in four or five hours' time; which I never saw done in England in twenty-four hours, and this with the greatest ease and less hazard than at home. This I saw under my hospital window."
"When I was first brought in as a prisoner there, I spent four months in a hospital in Brest to care for my wounds. While I was there, I was amazed at how quickly they manned and outfitted their ships. Until then, I believed it could only be done as fast in England, where we have ten times the shipping and consequently ten times the sailors that France has. But there, I saw twenty ships, each with about sixty guns, ready in just twenty days. They were brought in and the crews were dismissed; then, on an order from Paris, they were cleaned, repaired, rigged, stocked with supplies, crewed, and back out again in that same time, all with incredible ease. I also saw a ship with one hundred guns have all her guns removed in four or five hours, something I’ve never seen done in England in less than twenty-four hours, and this was done with much more ease and less risk than at home. I witnessed all this right from my hospital window."
A French naval historian cites certain performances which are simply incredible, such as that the keel of a galley was laid at four o'clock, and that at nine she left port, fully armed. These traditions may be accepted as pointing, with the more serious statements of the English officer, to a remarkable degree of system and order, and abundant facilities for work.
A French naval historian mentions some astonishing feats, like a galley's keel being laid at four o'clock and then leaving port fully armed by nine. These accounts, along with the more serious remarks from the English officer, suggest a remarkable level of organization and ample resources for work.
Yet all this wonderful growth, forced by the action of the government, withered away like Jonah's gourd when the [73]government's favor was withdrawn. Time was not allowed for its roots to strike down deep into the life of the nation. Colbert's work was in the direct line of Richelieu's policy, and for a time it seemed there would continue the course of action which would make France great upon the sea as well as predominant upon the land. For reasons which it is not yet necessary to give, Louis came to have feelings of bitter enmity against Holland; and as these feelings were shared by Charles II., the two kings determined on the destruction of the United Provinces. This war, which broke out in 1672, though more contrary to natural feeling on the part of England, was less of a political mistake for her than for France, and especially as regards sea power. France was helping to destroy a probable, and certainly an indispensable, ally; England was assisting in the ruin of her greatest rival on the sea, at this time, indeed, still her commercial superior. France, staggering under debt and utter confusion in her finances when Louis mounted the throne, was just seeing her way clear in 1672, under Colbert's reforms and their happy results. The war, lasting six years, undid the greater part of his work. The agricultural classes, manufactures, commerce, and the colonies, all were smitten by it; the establishments of Colbert languished, and the order he had established in the finances was overthrown. Thus the action of Louis—and he alone was the directing government of France—struck at the roots of her sea power, and alienated her best sea ally. The territory and the military power of France were increased, but the springs of commerce and of a peaceful shipping had been exhausted in the process; and although the military navy was for some years kept up with splendor and efficiency, it soon began to dwindle, and by the end of the reign had practically disappeared. The same false policy, as regards the sea, marked the rest of this reign of fifty-four years. Louis steadily turned his back upon the sea interests of France, except the fighting-ships, and either could not or would not see that the latter were of little use and uncertain life, if the peaceful shipping and the industries, by which they [74]were supported, perished. His policy, aiming at supreme power in Europe by military strength and territorial extension, forced England and Holland into an alliance, which, as has before been said, directly drove France off the sea, and indirectly swamped Holland's power thereon. Colbert's navy perished, and for the last ten years of Louis' life no great French fleet put to sea, though there was constant war. The simplicity of form in an absolute monarchy thus brought out strongly how great the influence of government can be upon both the growth and the decay of sea power.
Yet all this amazing growth, driven by the government's actions, faded away like Jonah's gourd when the government's support was removed. There wasn't enough time for its roots to sink deep into the nation's life. Colbert's work followed the path of Richelieu's policy, and for a while, it seemed like there would be a continued effort to make France powerful at sea as well as on land. For reasons that aren’t necessary to get into right now, Louis developed a strong hostility towards Holland; and since Charles II. shared these feelings, the two kings decided to destroy the United Provinces. This war, which began in 1672, was less natural for England but politically less of a mistake for her than for France, especially concerning naval power. France was aiding in the destruction of a likely and definitely necessary ally, while England was participating in the downfall of her greatest rival at sea, who was still her commercial superior at that time. France, struggling with debt and financial chaos when Louis took the throne, was just starting to see some clarity in 1672, thanks to Colbert's reforms and their positive outcomes. The six-year war undid much of his progress. The agricultural sector, manufacturing, trade, and the colonies were all impacted; Colbert's institutions suffered, and the financial order he established was disrupted. Thus, Louis's actions—he alone was the directing force of the French government—attacked the foundation of France’s naval power and alienated her best naval ally. France's territory and military strength grew, but the resources for trade and peaceful shipping were exhausted in the process; although the military navy was maintained with grandeur and efficiency for a few years, it quickly began to decline and had virtually vanished by the end of Louis's reign. The same misguided naval policy characterized the remainder of his fifty-four-year reign. Louis consistently turned his back on France's naval interests, except for the warships, and either couldn't or wouldn't understand that those were of little use and uncertain lifespan if the trading vessels and industries that supported them were destroyed. His policy, which aimed for supreme power in Europe through military might and territorial expansion, forced England and Holland into an alliance, which, as mentioned earlier, directly pushed France off the sea and indirectly weakened Holland's power there. Colbert's navy disappeared, and for the last ten years of Louis's life, no significant French fleet set sail, even though there was continuous war. The straightforwardness of absolute monarchy clearly highlighted how significant the government's influence can be on both the rise and fall of naval power.
The latter part of Louis' life thus witnessed that power failing by the weakening of its foundations, of commerce, and of the wealth that commerce brings. The government that followed, likewise absolute, of set purpose and at the demand of England, gave up all pretence of maintaining an effective navy. The reason for this was that the new king was a minor; and the regent, being bitterly at enmity with the king of Spain, to injure him and preserve his own power, entered into alliance with England. He aided her to establish Austria, the hereditary enemy of France, in Naples and Sicily to the detriment of Spain, and in union with her destroyed the Spanish navy and dock-yards. Here again is found a personal ruler disregarding the sea interests of France, ruining a natural ally, and directly aiding, as Louis XIV. indirectly and unintentionally aided, the growth of a mistress of the seas. This transient phase of policy passed away with the death of the regent in 1726; but from that time until 1760 the government of France continued to disregard her maritime interests. It is said, indeed, that owing to some wise modifications of her fiscal regulations, mainly in the direction of free trade (and due to Law, a minister of Scotch birth), commerce with the East and West Indies wonderfully increased, and that the islands of Guadeloupe and Martinique became very rich and thriving; but both commerce and colonies lay at the mercy of England when war came, for the navy fell into decay. In 1756, when things were no longer at their worst, France had but forty-five [75]ships-of-the-line, England nearly one hundred and thirty; and when the forty-five were to be armed and equipped, there was found to be neither material nor rigging nor supplies; not even enough artillery. Nor was this all.
The later years of Louis' life saw his power decline as the foundations of trade and the wealth from that trade weakened. The subsequent government, also absolute and instigated by England, gave up any pretense of maintaining a strong navy. This was primarily because the new king was a minor, and the regent, who had a bitter rivalry with the king of Spain, allied with England to undermine Spain and secure his own position. He supported England in establishing Austria, France's hereditary enemy, in Naples and Sicily at Spain's expense, and together they dismantled the Spanish navy and shipyards. Again, there's a personal ruler ignoring the naval interests of France, harming a natural ally, and directly helping, much like Louis XIV. did indirectly, the rise of a naval superpower. This temporary policy shift ended with the regent's death in 1726, but from then until 1760, the French government continued to neglect its maritime interests. It is said that due to some beneficial changes to its tax regulations, mainly leaning towards free trade (thanks to Law, a minister of Scottish origin), trade with the East and West Indies remarkably increased, making the islands of Guadeloupe and Martinique very prosperous; however, both trade and colonies fell under England's control when war broke out, as the navy had deteriorated. By 1756, when conditions had improved, France had only forty-five [75] ships-of-the-line, while England had nearly one hundred and thirty; and when it came time to arm and equip those forty-five ships, there was a severe lack of materials, rigging, supplies, and even artillery. This wasn't all.
"Lack of system in the government," says a French writer, "brought about indifference, and opened the door to disorder and lack of discipline. Never had unjust promotions been so frequent; so also never had more universal discontent been seen. Money and intrigue took the place of all else, and brought in their train commands and power. Nobles and upstarts, with influence at the capital and self-sufficiency in the seaports, thought themselves dispensed with merit. Waste of the revenues of the State and of the dock-yards knew no bounds. Honor and modesty were turned into ridicule. As if the evils were not thus great enough, the ministry took pains to efface the heroic traditions of the past which had escaped the general wreck. To the energetic fights of the great reign succeeded, by order of the court, 'affairs of circumspection.' To preserve to the wasted material a few armed ships, increased opportunity was given to the enemy. From this unhappy principle we were bound to a defensive as advantageous to the enemy as it was foreign to the genius of our people. This circumspection before the enemy, laid down for us by orders, betrayed in the long run the national temper; and the abuse of the system led to acts of indiscipline and defection under fire, of which a single instance would vainly be sought in the previous century."
"Lack of organization in the government," says a French writer, "led to indifference and created chaos and a lack of discipline. Never have unjust promotions been so common, and never has there been more widespread discontent. Money and intrigue replaced everything else, bringing commands and power along with them. Nobles and new money, with influence in the capital and self-reliance in the ports, considered themselves exempt from needing merit. The waste of state revenues and dockyards had no limits. Honor and modesty were mocked. As if these problems weren’t severe enough, the government worked to erase the heroic traditions of the past that had survived the overall collapse. The energetic battles of the great reign were replaced, by court order, with ‘cautious affairs.’ To preserve a few armed ships from the wasted resources, we gave the enemy greater opportunity. From this unfortunate principle, we were stuck in a defensive position that was as beneficial to the enemy as it was contrary to the spirit of our people. This caution before the enemy, imposed by orders, ultimately betrayed the national character; and the misuse of the system led to acts of indiscipline and defection under fire, of which you would have struggled to find even one instance in the previous century."
A false policy of continental extension swallowed up the resources of the country, and was doubly injurious because, by leaving defenceless its colonies and commerce, it exposed the greatest source of wealth to be cut off, as in fact happened. The small squadrons that got to sea were destroyed by vastly superior force; the merchant shipping was swept away, and the colonies, Canada, Martinique, Guadeloupe, India, fell into England's hands. If it did not take too much space, interesting extracts might be made, showing the woful misery of France, the country that had abandoned the sea, and the growing wealth of England amid all her sacrifices and exertions. A contemporary writer has thus expressed his view of the policy of France at this period:—
A misguided policy of continental expansion drained the country's resources and was even more harmful because it left its colonies and trade defenseless, exposing its greatest source of wealth to be cut off, which ultimately happened. The small naval forces that managed to set sail were obliterated by a much stronger enemy; merchant ships were wiped out, and the colonies—Canada, Martinique, Guadeloupe, India—fell into English hands. If there were enough space, we could include interesting excerpts highlighting the terrible suffering of France, the nation that turned its back on the sea, and the increasing wealth of England amid all its sacrifices and efforts. A contemporary writer summed up his view of France's policy during this time:—
"France, by engaging so heartily as she has done in the German[76] war, has drawn away so much of her attention and her revenue from her navy that it enabled us to give such a blow to her maritime strength as possibly she may never be able to recover. Her engagement in the German war has likewise drawn her from the defence of her colonies, by which means we have conquered some of the most considerable she possessed. It has withdrawn her from the protection of her trade, by which it is entirely destroyed, while that of England has never, in the profoundest peace, been in so flourishing a condition. So that, by embarking in this German war, France has suffered herself to be undone, so far as regards her particular and immediate quarrel with England."
"By getting so deeply involved in the German war, France has diverted a lot of her focus and budget away from her navy, allowing us to strike a blow to her maritime power that she might never recover from. Her involvement in the German war has also distracted her from protecting her colonies, resulting in us conquering some of the most significant ones she had. It has pulled her away from safeguarding her trade, which has been completely destroyed, while England's trade has never been in such a strong position, even in the deepest peace. So, by entering this German war, France has allowed herself to be significantly weakened, especially regarding her specific and immediate conflict with England."
In the Seven Years' War France lost thirty-seven ships-of-the-line and fifty-six frigates,—a force three times as numerous as the whole navy of the United States at any time in the days of sailing-ships. "For the first time since the Middle Ages," says a French historian, speaking of the same war, "England had conquered France single-handed, almost without allies, France having powerful auxiliaries. She had conquered solely by the superiority of her government." Yes; but it was by the superiority of her government using the tremendous weapon of her sea power,—the reward of a consistent policy perseveringly directed to one aim.
In the Seven Years' War, France lost thirty-seven battleships and fifty-six frigates— a force three times larger than the entire navy of the United States during the era of sailing ships. "For the first time since the Middle Ages," a French historian notes about the same war, "England had defeated France on its own, almost without allies, while France had powerful supporters. England achieved this solely through the strength of its government." True, but it was through the strength of its government utilizing the massive advantage of its naval power—the result of a consistent policy persistently aimed at one goal.
The profound humiliation of France, which reached its depths between 1760 and 1763, at which latter date she made peace, has an instructive lesson for the United States in this our period of commercial and naval decadence. We have been spared her humiliation; let us hope to profit by her subsequent example. Between the same years (1760 and 1763) the French people rose, as afterward in 1793, and declared they would have a navy. "Popular feeling, skilfully directed by the government, took up the cry from one end of France to the other, 'The navy must be restored.' Gifts of ships were made by cities, by corporations, and by private subscriptions. A prodigious activity sprang up in the lately silent ports; everywhere ships were building or repairing." This activity was sustained; the arsenals were replenished, the material [77]of every kind was put on a satisfactory footing, the artillery reorganized, and ten thousand trained gunners drilled and maintained.
The deep humiliation that France experienced, hitting its lowest point between 1760 and 1763, when she eventually made peace, offers an important lesson for the United States during our current time of economic and naval decline. We have avoided her level of humiliation; let’s hope to learn from her later actions. During those same years (1760 to 1763), the French people rose up, much like they did in 1793, and declared that they wanted a navy. "Public sentiment, skillfully guided by the government, spread across France with the demand, 'The navy must be restored.' Cities, organizations, and private individuals donated ships. A huge wave of activity surged in the previously quiet ports; ships were being built and repaired everywhere." This effort continued; the arsenals were stocked, materials [77] of all kinds were organized properly, artillery was restructured, and ten thousand trained gunners were drilled and maintained.
The tone and action of the naval officers of the day instantly felt the popular impulse, for which indeed some loftier spirits among them had been not only waiting but working. At no time was greater mental and professional activity found among French naval officers than just then, when their ships had been suffered to rot away by governmental inaction. Thus a prominent French officer of our own day writes:—
The tone and actions of the naval officers at that time immediately sensed the public mood, which some of the more ambitious among them had not only been anticipating but also striving for. There had never been a time when French naval officers exhibited greater intellectual and professional energy than at that moment, even while their ships were allowed to deteriorate due to governmental inaction. A notable French officer of our time writes:—
"The sad condition of the navy in the reign of Louis XV., by closing to officers the brilliant career of bold enterprises and successful battles, forced them to fall back upon themselves. They drew from study the knowledge they were to put to the proof some years later, thus putting into practice that fine saying of Montesquieu, 'Adversity is our mother, Prosperity our step-mother.'... By the year 1769 was seen in all its splendor that brilliant galaxy of officers whose activity stretched to the ends of the earth, and who embraced in their works and in their investigations all the branches of human knowledge. The Académie de Marine, founded in 1752, was reorganized."[9]
The unfortunate state of the navy during Louis XV's reign, by closing off opportunities for officers to engage in daring missions and victorious battles, forced them to turn inward. They gained knowledge through study that they would later put to the test, truly embodying Montesquieu's wise saying, 'Adversity is our mother, Prosperity our step-mother.' By 1769, a remarkable group of officers was visible in all its glory, their efforts reaching across the globe and encompassing all areas of human knowledge. The Académie de Marine, originally established in 1752, was restructured. [9]
The Académie's first director, a post-captain named Bigot de Morogues, wrote an elaborate treatise on naval tactics, the first original work on the subject since Paul Hoste's, which it was designed to supersede. Morogues must have been studying and formulating his problems in tactics in days when France had no fleet, and was unable so much as to raise her head at sea under the blows of her enemy. At the same time England had no similar book; and an English lieutenant, in 1762, was just translating a part of Hoste's great work, omitting by far the larger part. It was not until nearly twenty years later that Clerk, a Scotch private gentleman, published an ingenious study of naval tactics, in which he pointed out to English admirals the system by which the French had thwarted their thoughtless and ill-combined attacks.[10] "The [78]researches of the Académie de Marine, and the energetic impulse which it gave to the labors of officers, were not, as we hope to show later, without influence upon the relatively prosperous condition in which the navy was at the beginning of the American war."
The Académie's first director, a post-captain named Bigot de Morogues, wrote a detailed treatise on naval tactics, the first original work on the subject since Paul Hoste's, which it aimed to replace. Morogues must have been studying and developing his tactics at a time when France had no fleet and couldn’t even defend itself at sea against its enemies. At the same time, England didn’t have a comparable book; an English lieutenant was just translating part of Hoste's significant work in 1762, leaving out most of it. It wasn't until almost twenty years later that Clerk, a Scottish private gentleman, published an insightful study on naval tactics, in which he revealed to English admirals the system the French used to counter their reckless and poorly coordinated attacks.[10] "The [78]researches of the Académie de Marine, and the strong push it provided to the efforts of officers, were not, as we hope to demonstrate later, without influence on the relatively successful state of the navy at the start of the American war."
It has already been pointed out that the American War of Independence involved a departure from England's traditional and true policy, by committing her to a distant land war, while powerful enemies were waiting for an opportunity to attack her at sea. Like France in the then recent German wars, like Napoleon later in the Spanish war, England, through undue self-confidence, was about to turn a friend into an enemy, and so expose the real basis of her power to a rude proof. The French government, on the other hand, avoided the snare into which it had so often fallen. Turning her back on the European continent, having the probability of neutrality there, and the certainty of alliance with Spain by her side, France advanced to the contest with a fine navy and a brilliant, though perhaps relatively inexperienced, body of officers. On the other side of the Atlantic she had the support of a friendly people, and of her own or allied ports, both in the West Indies and on the continent. The wisdom of this policy, the happy influence of this action of the government upon her sea power, is evident; but the details of the war do not belong to this part of the subject. To Americans, the chief interest of that war is found upon the land; but to naval officers upon the sea, for it was essentially a sea war. The intelligent and systematic efforts of twenty years bore their due fruit; for though the warfare afloat ended with a great disaster, the combined efforts of the French and Spanish fleets undoubtedly bore down England's strength and robbed her of her colonies. In the various naval undertakings and battles the honor of France was upon the whole maintained; though it is difficult, upon consideration of the general [79]subject, to avoid the conclusion that the inexperience of French seamen as compared with English, the narrow spirit of jealousy shown by the noble corps of officers toward those of different antecedents, and above all, the miserable traditions of three quarters of a century already alluded to, the miserable policy of a government which taught them first to save their ships, to economize the material, prevented French admirals from reaping, not the mere glory, but the positive advantages that more than once were within their grasp. When Monk said the nation that would rule upon the sea must always attack, he set the key-note to England's naval policy; and had the instructions of the French government consistently breathed the same spirit, the war of 1778 might have ended sooner and better than it did. It seems ungracious to criticise the conduct of a service to which, under God, our nation owes that its birth was not a miscarriage; but writers of its own country abundantly reflect the spirit of the remark. A French officer who served afloat during this war, in a work of calm and judicial tone, says:—
It has already been noted that the American War of Independence marked a break from England's traditional policies by committing her to a distant land war while powerful enemies waited for a chance to attack her at sea. Similar to how France acted during the recent German wars and how Napoleon later operated in the Spanish war, England, through overconfidence, was on the verge of turning a friend into an enemy, exposing the real foundation of her power to a harsh test. In contrast, the French government managed to avoid the pitfalls it had previously encountered. By turning away from the European continent, securing a likely neutrality there, and having a reliable alliance with Spain by her side, France prepared for conflict with a strong navy and a skilled, though perhaps somewhat inexperienced, group of officers. On the other side of the Atlantic, she had the support of a friendly populace and her own or allied ports, both in the West Indies and on the mainland. The wisdom of this strategy and the positive impact of government actions on her naval power are clear; however, the details of the war are not the focus of this discussion. For Americans, the main interest in that war lies on land; but for naval officers, it primarily took place at sea, as it was fundamentally a naval conflict. The intelligent and organized efforts of twenty years paid off; despite the fact that naval warfare ended in a significant defeat, the combined actions of the French and Spanish fleets undeniably weakened England and took away her colonies. In the various naval operations and battles, the honor of France was mostly upheld; yet, it is challenging to ignore the conclusion that the inexperience of French sailors compared to the English, the narrow jealousy shown by the noble corps of officers toward those from different backgrounds, and especially the poor traditions of the past seventy-five years, along with a government's bad policy that taught them to prioritize saving their ships and conserving resources, prevented French admirals from achieving not just glory but the tangible benefits that were often within their reach. When Monk stated that the nation wanting to dominate the sea must always attack, he set the tone for England's naval policy; had the French government's instructions consistently reflected the same attitude, the war of 1778 might have concluded sooner and more favorably than it did. It seems ungrateful to criticize the actions of a service to which, under God, our nation owes its successful birth; however, writers from within that service often echo this sentiment. A French officer who served during this war, in a calm and objective work, states:—
"What must the young officers have thought who were at Sandy Hook with D'Estaing, at St. Christopher with De Grasse, even those who arrived at Rhode Island with De Ternay, when they saw that these officers were not tried at their return?"[11]
"What must the young officers have thought who were at Sandy Hook with D'Estaing, at St. Christopher with De Grasse, even those who arrived at Rhode Island with De Ternay, when they saw that these officers were not tried when they returned?"[11]
Again, another French officer, of much later date, justifies the opinion expressed, when speaking of the war of the American Revolution in the following terms:—
Again, another French officer, from a much later time, supports the opinion expressed when discussing the war of the American Revolution like this:—
"It was necessary to get rid of the unhappy prejudices of the days of the regency and of Louis XV.; but the mishaps of which they were full were too recent to be forgotten by our ministers. Thanks to a wretched hesitation, fleets, which had rightly alarmed England, became reduced to ordinary proportions. Intrenching themselves in a false economy, the ministry claimed that, by reason of the excessive expenses necessary to maintain the fleet, the admirals must be ordered to maintain the 'greatest circumspection,' as though in war half measures have not always led to disasters. So, too, the orders given to our squadron chiefs were to keep the sea as long as possible, [80]without engaging in actions which might cause the loss of vessels difficult to replace; so that more than once complete victories, which would have crowned the skill of our admirals and the courage of our captains, were changed into successes of little importance. A system which laid down as a principle that an admiral should not use the force in his hands, which sent him against the enemy with the foreordained purpose of receiving rather than making the attack, a system which sapped moral power to save material resources, must have unhappy results.... It is certain that this deplorable system was one of the causes of the lack of discipline and startling defections which marked the periods of Louis XVI., of the [first] Republic, and of the [first] Empire."[12]
"It was necessary to eliminate the unfortunate biases from the regency and the time of Louis XV.; however, the troubles associated with those times were still too fresh in the minds of our ministers. Due to a terrible indecision, fleets that should have rightfully worried England were scaled back to normal size. Stuck in a misguided sense of frugality, the government argued that the high costs needed to maintain the fleet meant that admirals had to exercise the 'greatest circumspection,' as if half-measures in warfare haven't always resulted in failures. Additionally, the orders given to our squadron leaders were to stay at sea as long as possible without engaging in battles that might lead to irreparable losses, meaning that more than once, total victories that would have showcased our admirals' skills and our captains' bravery were turned into minor successes. A system that dictated an admiral should not fully utilize their forces, sending them to confront the enemy with the predetermined goal of receiving rather than initiating an attack, a system that undermined moral strength to conserve resources, was bound to have unfortunate consequences.... It’s clear that this unfortunate approach was one of the reasons for the lack of discipline and surprising defections that characterized the periods of Louis XVI, the [first] Republic, and the [first] Empire."[12]
Within ten years of the peace of 1783 came the French Revolution; but that great upheaval which shook the foundations of States, loosed the ties of social order, and drove out of the navy nearly all the trained officers of the monarchy who were attached to the old state of things, did not free the French navy from a false system. It was easier to overturn the form of government than to uproot a deep-seated tradition. Hear again a third French officer, of the highest rank and literary accomplishments, speaking of the inaction of Villeneuve, the admiral who commanded the French rear at the battle of the Nile, and who did not leave his anchors while the head of the column was being destroyed:—
Within ten years of the peace of 1783, the French Revolution happened; but that major event shook the foundations of governments, disrupted social order, and removed almost all the trained naval officers from the monarchy who were loyal to the old regime, yet it didn’t free the French navy from a flawed system. It was easier to change the government than to eliminate a deeply rooted tradition. Here again is a third French officer, of the highest rank and literary talent, discussing the inaction of Villeneuve, the admiral who led the French rear at the Battle of the Nile, and who stayed anchored while the front of the column was being destroyed:—
"A day was to come [Trafalgar] in which Villeneuve in his turn, like De Grasse before him, and like Duchayla, would complain of being abandoned by part of his fleet. We have come to suspect some secret reason for this fatal coincidence. It is not natural that among so many honorable men there should so often be found admirals and captains incurring such a reproach. If the name of some of them is to this very day sadly associated with the memory of our disasters, we may be sure the fault is not wholly their own. We must rather blame the nature of the operations in which they were engaged, and that system of defensive war prescribed by the French government, which Pitt, in the English Parliament, proclaimed to be the forerunner of certain ruin. That system, when we wished to renounce it, had already penetrated our habits; it had, so to say, [81]weakened our arms and paralyzed our self-reliance. Too often did our squadrons leave port with a special mission to fulfil, and with the intention of avoiding the enemy; to fall in with him was at once a piece of bad luck. It was thus that our ships went into action; they submitted to it instead of forcing it.... Fortune would have hesitated longer between the two fleets, and not have borne in the end so heavily against ours, if Brueys, meeting Nelson half way, could have gone out to fight him. This fettered and timid war, which Villaret and Martin had carried on, had lasted long, thanks to the circumspection of some English admirals and the traditions of the old tactics. It was with these traditions that the battle of the Nile had broken; the hour for decisive action had come."[13]
A day would come [Trafalgar] when Villeneuve, like De Grasse before him and Duchayla as well, would complain about being abandoned by part of his fleet. We suspect there’s a hidden reason for this unfortunate pattern. It doesn't seem normal that among so many honorable people, there are frequently admirals and captains facing such criticism. If some of their names are still sadly linked to our disasters, we can be certain that the fault isn’t entirely theirs. We should instead blame the nature of the operations they were involved in, along with the defensive war strategy imposed by the French government, which Pitt declared in the English Parliament to be a sign of certain doom. By the time we decided to abandon that strategy, it had already seeped into our way of doing things; it had effectively weakened our forces and impaired our confidence. Our squadrons often set sail with a specific mission and an intent to avoid confrontation with the enemy; encountering him was seen as nothing but bad luck. As a result, our ships approached battle reluctantly; they accepted it instead of asserting themselves. Fortune might have wavered longer between the two fleets and not tilted so decisively against ours if Brueys had met Nelson halfway and gone out to confront him. This restrained and cautious approach to war, practiced by Villaret and Martin, had endured for a long time, aided by the carefulness of some English admirals and the traditions of older tactics. It was these traditions that were shattered at the Battle of the Nile; the time for decisive action had finally arrived.[81]
Some years later came Trafalgar, and again the government of France took up a new policy with the navy. The author last quoted speaks again:—
Some years later came Trafalgar, and once again the French government adopted a new strategy for the navy. The previously mentioned author speaks again:—
"The emperor, whose eagle glance traced plans of campaign for his fleets as for his armies, was wearied by these unexpected reverses. He turned his eyes from the one field of battle in which fortune was faithless to him, and decided to pursue England elsewhere than upon the seas; he undertook to rebuild his navy, but without giving it any part in the struggle which became more furious than ever.... Nevertheless, far from slackening, the activity of our dock-yards redoubled. Every year ships-of-the-line were either laid down or added to the fleet. Venice and Genoa, under his control, saw their old splendors rise again, and from the shores of the Elbe to the head of the Adriatic all the ports of the continent emulously seconded the creative thought of the emperor. Numerous squadrons were assembled in the Scheldt, in Brest Roads, and in Toulon.... But to the end the emperor refused to give this navy, full of ardor and self-reliance, an opportunity to measure its strength with the enemy.... Cast down by constant reverses, he had kept up our armed ships only to oblige our enemies to blockades whose enormous cost must end by exhausting their finances."
"The emperor, whose keen insight mapped out strategies for his fleets just as for his armies, was exhausted by these unexpected setbacks. He turned his attention away from the one battlefield where luck had abandoned him and decided to tackle England in ways other than at sea; he set out to rebuild his navy, but without involving it in the conflict that only grew more intense... Nevertheless, instead of slowing down, the activity at our shipyards picked up. Each year, new ships-of-the-line were either built or added to the fleet. With Venice and Genoa under his control, their former glory was revived, and from the shores of the Elbe to the Adriatic Sea, all the continental ports eagerly supported the emperor's ambitious plans. Numerous fleets were gathered in the Scheldt, in Brest Roads, and in Toulon... But in the end, the emperor refused to give this navy, full of enthusiasm and confidence, the chance to test its strength against the enemy... Weakened by continuous defeats, he maintained our armed ships only to force our enemies into blockades whose enormous costs would ultimately drain their resources."
When the empire fell, France had one hundred and three ships-of-the-line and fifty-five frigates.
When the empire collapsed, France had one hundred three battleships and fifty-five frigates.
To turn now from the particular lessons drawn from the history of the past to the general question of the influence of [82]government upon the sea career of its people, it is seen that that influence can work in two distinct but closely related ways.
To shift from the specific lessons learned from past history to the broader question of how [82] government affects its people's maritime pursuits, we see that this influence can operate in two distinct yet closely linked ways.
First, in peace: The government by its policy can favor the natural growth of a people's industries and its tendencies to seek adventure and gain by way of the sea; or it can try to develop such industries and such sea-going bent, when they do not naturally exist; or, on the other hand, the government may by mistaken action check and fetter the progress which the people left to themselves would make. In any one of these ways the influence of the government will be felt, making or marring the sea power of the country in the matter of peaceful commerce; upon which alone, it cannot be too often insisted, a thoroughly strong navy can be based.
First, in peace: The government can either support the natural growth of its people's industries and their desire to explore and profit through the sea, or it can attempt to foster such industries and maritime ambitions where they don't already exist. Alternatively, the government might hinder and restrict the progress that the people could achieve on their own due to poor decisions. In any of these scenarios, the government's influence will impact the country’s maritime capabilities regarding peaceful trade, which is essential for building a truly strong navy.
Secondly, for war: The influence of the government will be felt in its most legitimate manner in maintaining an armed navy, of a size commensurate with the growth of its shipping and the importance of the interests connected with it. More important even than the size of the navy is the question of its institutions, favoring a healthful spirit and activity, and providing for rapid development in time of war by an adequate reserve of men and of ships and by measures for drawing out that general reserve power which has before been pointed to, when considering the character and pursuits of the people. Undoubtedly under this second head of warlike preparation must come the maintenance of suitable naval stations, in those distant parts of the world to which the armed shipping must follow the peaceful vessels of commerce. The protection of such stations must depend either upon direct military force, as do Gibraltar and Malta, or upon a surrounding friendly population, such as the American colonists once were to England, and, it may be presumed, the Australian colonists now are. Such friendly surroundings and backing, joined to a reasonable military provision, are the best of defences, and when combined with decided preponderance at sea, make a scattered and extensive empire, like that of England, secure; for while it is true that an [83]unexpected attack may cause disaster in some one quarter, the actual superiority of naval power prevents such disaster from being general or irremediable. History has sufficiently proved this. England's naval bases have been in all parts of the world; and her fleets have at once protected them, kept open the communications between them, and relied upon them for shelter.
Secondly, regarding war: The government’s influence will be most legitimately felt through maintaining a navy that is appropriately sized for the growth of its shipping and the significance of its related interests. Even more critical than the size of the navy is the question of its structure, which should encourage a healthy spirit and activity, along with ensuring rapid development during wartime through a sufficient reserve of personnel and ships, as well as strategies to tap into the general reserve capabilities that we’ve previously discussed concerning the character and activities of the people. Certainly, this aspect of military readiness also encompasses the upkeep of appropriate naval bases in those far-off regions where armed ships need to accompany the peaceful vessels of trade. The defense of these bases should rely either on direct military force, like what we see in Gibraltar and Malta, or on a supportive local population, similar to how American colonists once were for England, and presumably how Australian colonists are now. These supportive surroundings and backing, combined with reasonable military resources, offer the best defenses. When paired with a clear maritime superiority, they make a vast and sprawling empire, like England's, safe; because while it is true that an unexpected attack could create chaos in one area, the overall superiority in naval power prevents such disasters from being widespread or irreparable. History has proven this point well. England’s naval bases have been established all over the globe; her fleets have simultaneously protected them, maintained communication between them, and relied on them for refuge.
Colonies attached to the mother-country afford, therefore, the surest means of supporting abroad the sea power of a country. In peace, the influence of the government should be felt in promoting by all means a warmth of attachment and a unity of interest which will make the welfare of one the welfare of all, and the quarrel of one the quarrel of all; and in war, or rather for war, by inducing such measures of organization and defence as shall be felt by all to be a fair distribution of a burden of which each reaps the benefit.
Colonies connected to the home country provide the best way to maintain a nation's naval strength abroad. In peaceful times, the government should work to create a strong bond and shared interests that ensure everyone's welfare is interconnected, so that one person's issues become everyone's issues. In times of war, or in preparation for war, it should implement measures for organization and defense that everyone sees as a fair way to share the burdens that everyone benefits from.
Such colonies the United States has not and is not likely to have. As regards purely military naval stations, the feeling of her people was probably accurately expressed by an historian of the English navy a hundred years ago, speaking then of Gibraltar and Port Mahon. "Military governments," said he, "agree so little with the industry of a trading people, and are in themselves so repugnant to the genius of the British people, that I do not wonder that men of good sense and of all parties have inclined to give up these, as Tangiers was given up." Having therefore no foreign establishments, either colonial or military, the ships of war of the United States, in war, will be like land birds, unable to fly far from their own shores. To provide resting-places for them, where they can coal and repair, would be one of the first duties of a government proposing to itself the development of the power of the nation at sea.
The United States does not have colonies and is unlikely to acquire any. Regarding purely military naval bases, the sentiment of the people was likely captured well by a historian of the English navy a century ago, who spoke about Gibraltar and Port Mahon. "Military governments," he said, "clash with the interests of a trading nation and are fundamentally at odds with the character of the British people, so it's no surprise that sensible individuals across all political groups have leaned toward abandoning them, just as Tangiers was abandoned." Therefore, without any foreign outposts, whether colonial or military, the U.S. warships, when involved in conflict, will be like land birds, unable to venture far from their own shores. Creating safe havens for them, where they can refuel and undertake repairs, would be one of the primary responsibilities of a government aiming to enhance the nation's maritime strength.
As the practical object of this inquiry is to draw from the lessons of history inferences applicable to one's own country and service, it is proper now to ask how far the conditions of the United States involve serious danger, and call for action on the part of the government, in order to build again her [84]sea power. It will not be too much to say that the action of the government since the Civil War, and up to this day, has been effectively directed solely to what has been called the first link in the chain which makes sea power. Internal development, great production, with the accompanying aim and boast of self-sufficingness, such has been the object, such to some extent the result. In this the government has faithfully reflected the bent of the controlling elements of the country, though it is not always easy to feel that such controlling elements are truly representative, even in a free country. However that may be, there is no doubt that, besides having no colonies, the intermediate link of a peaceful shipping, and the interests involved in it, are now likewise lacking. In short, the United States has only one link of the three.
The practical goal of this inquiry is to draw lessons from history that apply to our own country and service. So, it’s important to ask how the conditions in the United States present serious dangers and what actions the government needs to take to rebuild its [84]sea power. It's fair to say that the government's actions since the Civil War and up to now have been focused solely on what's often called the first link in the chain of sea power. Internal development and significant production, along with the goal of being self-sufficient, have been the objectives and to some extent, the outcomes. In this, the government has mirrored the interests of the influential groups in the country, although it’s not always easy to believe that these groups truly represent the population, even in a free nation. Regardless of that, there’s no doubt that, in addition to lacking colonies, we also don’t have the essential middle link of peaceful shipping and the interests connected to it. In short, the United States has only one of the three links.
The circumstances of naval war have changed so much within the last hundred years, that it may be doubted whether such disastrous effects on the one hand, or such brilliant prosperity on the other, as were seen in the wars between England and France, could now recur. In her secure and haughty sway of the seas England imposed a yoke on neutrals which will never again be borne; and the principle that the flag covers the goods is forever secured. The commerce of a belligerent can therefore now be safely carried on in neutral ships, except when contraband of war or to blockaded ports; and as regards the latter, it is also certain that there will be no more paper blockades. Putting aside therefore the question of defending her seaports from capture or contribution, as to which there is practical unanimity in theory and entire indifference in practice, what need has the United States of sea power? Her commerce is even now carried on by others; why should her people desire that which, if possessed, must be defended at great cost? So far as this question is economical, it is outside the scope of this work; but conditions which may entail suffering and loss on the country by war are directly pertinent to it. Granting therefore that the foreign trade of the United States, going and coming, is [85]on board ships which an enemy cannot touch except when bound to a blockaded port, what will constitute an efficient blockade? The present definition is, that it is such as to constitute a manifest danger to a vessel seeking to enter or leave the port. This is evidently very elastic. Many can remember that during the Civil War, after a night attack on the United States fleet off Charleston, the Confederates next morning sent out a steamer with some foreign consuls on board, who so far satisfied themselves that no blockading vessel was in sight that they issued a declaration to that effect. On the strength of this declaration some Southern authorities claimed that the blockade was technically broken, and could not be technically re-established without a new notification. Is it necessary, to constitute a real danger to blockade-runners, that the blockading fleet should be in sight? Half a dozen fast steamers, cruising twenty miles off-shore between the New Jersey and Long Island coast, would be a very real danger to ships seeking to go in or out by the principal entrance to New York; and similar positions might effectively blockade Boston, the Delaware, and the Chesapeake. The main body of the blockading fleet, prepared not only to capture merchant-ships but to resist military attempts to break the blockade, need not be within sight, nor in a position known to the shore. The bulk of Nelson's fleet was fifty miles from Cadiz two days before Trafalgar, with a small detachment watching close to the harbor. The allied fleet began to get under way at 7 A.M., and Nelson, even under the conditions of those days, knew it by 9.30. The English fleet at that distance was a very real danger to its enemy. It seems possible, in these days of submarine telegraphs, that the blockading forces in-shore and off-shore, and from one port to another, might be in telegraphic communication with one another along the whole coast of the United States, readily giving mutual support; and if, by some fortunate military combination, one detachment were attacked in force, it could warn the others and retreat upon them. Granting that such a blockade off one port were broken on one day, by [86]fairly driving away the ships maintaining it, the notification of its being re-established could be cabled all over the world the next. To avoid such blockades there must be a military force afloat that will at all times so endanger a blockading fleet that it can by no means keep its place. Then neutral ships, except those laden with contraband of war, can come and go freely, and maintain the commercial relations of the country with the world outside.
The situation of naval warfare has changed so much in the last hundred years that it's questionable whether such devastating impacts on one side or such remarkable prosperity on the other, as seen in the wars between England and France, could happen again. England, feeling secure and dominant at sea, imposed burdens on neutral nations that will never be tolerated again; and the principle that the flag protects the goods is now firmly established. A warring nation can now conduct its trade safely in neutral ships, except when dealing with contraband or trying to reach blockaded ports; and concerning the latter, it's clear there won't be any more paper blockades. Therefore, putting aside the issue of defending her ports from capture or contributions, about which there is theoretical agreement but practical indifference, what need does the United States have for naval power? Its trade is already handled by others; why should its people want something that, if obtained, must be defended at great expense? As far as this question is economic, it’s outside the focus of this work; however, circumstances that could lead to suffering and loss from war are directly relevant. Assuming that the international trade of the United States, both inbound and outbound, is [85] on ships that an enemy can't touch except when heading to a blockaded port, what qualifies as an effective blockade? Currently, it is defined as posing a real threat to a vessel trying to enter or leave a port. This definition is clearly quite flexible. Many remember that during the Civil War, after a night attack on the United States fleet off Charleston, the Confederates sent out a steamer with some foreign consuls aboard the next morning, who found no blockading vessels in sight and declared that the blockade was not present. Based on this declaration, some Southern officials argued that the blockade was technically broken and could not be re-established without a new notification. Is it necessary for there to be a visible blockading fleet to actually threaten blockade-runners? A handful of fast steamers patrolling twenty miles offshore between the New Jersey and Long Island coasts would pose a significant threat to ships trying to enter or exit through the main entry to New York; similar setups could effectively blockade Boston, the Delaware Bay, and the Chesapeake Bay. The main part of the blockading fleet, ready to not only capture merchant vessels but also to defend against military attempts to break the blockade, does not have to be in view or in a known location to the shore. The bulk of Nelson's fleet was fifty miles from Cadiz two days before Trafalgar, with a small group stationed close to the harbor. The allied fleet started moving at 7 AM, and Nelson, even under those circumstances, was aware by 9:30. The English fleet at that distance was indeed a serious threat to its enemy. It seems likely, in today’s world of submarine cables, that blockading forces both inshore and offshore, and between different ports, could easily communicate along the entire U.S. coast, offering support to one another; and if a military operation unexpectedly attacked one group, they could alert the others and regroup. Assuming that a blockade at one port was successfully broken one day, by [86] effectively driving away the ships enforcing it, the notification about its re-establishment could be cabled worldwide the very next day. To prevent such blockades, there must be a naval force always present that poses enough danger to a blockading fleet that it cannot hold its position. This way, neutral ships, except for those carrying contraband, can operate freely and maintain the country’s trade relations with the rest of the world.
It may be urged that, with the extensive sea-coast of the United States, a blockade of the whole line cannot be effectively kept up. No one will more readily concede this than officers who remember how the blockade of the Southern coast alone was maintained. But in the present condition of the navy, and, it may be added, with any additions not exceeding those so far proposed by the government,[14] the attempt to blockade Boston, New York, the Delaware, the Chesapeake, and the Mississippi, in other words, the great centres of export and import, would not entail upon one of the large maritime nations efforts greater than have been made before. England has at the same time blockaded Brest, the Biscay coast, Toulon, and Cadiz, when there were powerful squadrons lying within the harbors. It is true that commerce in neutral ships can then enter other ports of the United States than those named; but what a dislocation of the carrying traffic of the country, what failure of supplies at times, what inadequate means of transport by rail or water, of dockage, of lighterage, of warehousing, will be involved in such an enforced change of the ports of entry! Will there be no money loss, no suffering, consequent upon this? And when with much pain and expense these evils have been partially remedied, the enemy may be led to stop the new inlets as he did the old. The people of the United States will certainly not starve, but they may suffer grievously. As for supplies which are contraband of war, is there not reason to fear that the United [87]States is not now able to go alone if an emergency should arise?
It could be argued that, given the vast coastline of the United States, maintaining a complete blockade is not feasible. No one would agree with this more than the officers who recall how the blockade of the Southern coast was sustained. However, considering the current state of the navy, and even with any additions that don’t exceed what the government has already proposed,[14] attempting to blockade Boston, New York, Delaware, Chesapeake, and Mississippi—essentially, the major export and import hubs—would not require efforts greater than those previously exerted by large maritime nations. England has successfully blockaded Brest, the Biscay coast, Toulon, and Cadiz, even with strong squadrons stationed in those ports. It’s true that neutral ships can access other ports in the United States besides those mentioned; however, such a forced shift in entry points would significantly disrupt the country's shipping traffic, cause supply shortages at times, and lead to insufficient transportation options by rail or water, as well as issues with docking, lightering, and storage. Will there be no financial losses or hardships resulting from this? And once these problems have been partially addressed with considerable effort and expense, the enemy might just block the new routes as they did the old ones. The people of the United States will certainly not starve, but they could suffer greatly. Regarding supplies that are considered contraband, isn’t there a real concern that the United States may not be able to manage alone if an emergency arises?
The question is eminently one in which the influence of the government should make itself felt, to build up for the nation a navy which, if not capable of reaching distant countries, shall at least be able to keep clear the chief approaches to its own. The eyes of the country have for a quarter of a century been turned from the sea; the results of such a policy and of its opposite will be shown in the instance of France and of England. Without asserting a narrow parallelism between the case of the United States and either of these, it may safely be said that it is essential to the welfare of the whole country that the conditions of trade and commerce should remain, as far as possible, unaffected by an external war. In order to do this, the enemy must be kept not only out of our ports, but far away from our coasts.[15]
The question is one where government influence should play a significant role in building a navy for the nation that, while it may not be able to reach distant lands, should at least be capable of securing its main access points. For the past twenty-five years, the country’s focus has shifted away from the sea; the consequences of this policy and its opposite will be evident in the cases of France and England. Without claiming a direct comparison between the situation of the United States and either of these countries, it can be confidently stated that it’s crucial for the overall welfare of the nation that the conditions for trade and commerce remain as unaffected as possible by any foreign war. To achieve this, we need to keep the enemy not just out of our ports, but also far from our shores.[15]
Can this navy be had without restoring the merchant [88]shipping? It is doubtful. History has proved that such a purely military sea power can be built up by a despot, as was done by Louis XIV.; but though so fair seeming, experience showed that his navy was like a growth which having no root soon withers away. But in a representative government any military expenditure must have a strongly represented interest behind it, convinced of its necessity. Such an interest in sea power does not exist, cannot exist here without action by the government. How such a merchant shipping should be built up, whether by subsidies or by free trade, by constant administration of tonics or by free movement in the open air, is not a military but an economical question. Even had the United States a great national shipping, it may be doubted whether a sufficient navy would follow; the distance which separates her from other great powers, in one way a protection, is also a snare. The motive, if any there be, which will give the United States a navy, is probably now quickening in the Central American Isthmus. Let us hope it will not come to the birth too late.
Can this navy exist without reviving the merchant [88] shipping? It's unlikely. History has shown that a purely military naval power can be built by a dictator, as Louis XIV. did; but despite its appealing surface, experience revealed that his navy was like a plant with no roots—it quickly faded away. In a representative government, any military spending must have strong support from interests that believe in its necessity. Such support for naval power doesn’t exist and can't develop here without government action. How to build up merchant shipping—whether through subsidies or free trade, with constant assistance or through unrestricted movement in open waters—is not a military issue but an economic one. Even if the United States had a substantial national shipping fleet, it’s questionable if an adequate navy would arise; the distance that protects her from other major powers is also a trap. The motivation for the United States to establish a navy is likely emerging in the Central American Isthmus. Let's hope it doesn't arrive too late.
Here concludes the general discussion of the principal elements which affect, favorably or unfavorably, the growth of sea power in nations. The aim has been, first to consider those elements in their natural tendency for or against, and then to illustrate by particular examples and by the experience of the past. Such discussions, while undoubtedly embracing a wider field, yet fall mainly within the province of strategy, as distinguished from tactics. The considerations and principles which enter into them belong to the unchangeable, or unchanging, order of things, remaining the same, in cause and effect, from age to age. They belong, as it were, to the Order of Nature, of whose stability so much is heard in our day; whereas tactics, using as its instruments the weapons made by man, shares in the change and progress of the race from generation to generation. From time to time the superstructure of tactics has to be altered or wholly torn down; but the old foundations of strategy so far remain, as though laid upon a rock. There [89]will next be examined the general history of Europe and America, with particular reference to the effect exercised upon that history, and upon the welfare of the people, by sea power in its broad sense. From time to time, as occasion offers, the aim will be to recall and reinforce the general teaching, already elicited, by particular illustrations. The general tenor of the study will therefore be strategical, in that broad definition of naval strategy which has before been quoted and accepted: "Naval strategy has for its end to found, support, and increase, as well in peace as in war, the sea power of a country." In the matter of particular battles, while freely admitting that the change of details has made obsolete much of their teaching, the attempt will be made to point out where the application or neglect of true general principles has produced decisive effects; and, other things being equal, those actions will be preferred which, from their association with the names of the most distinguished officers, may be presumed to show how far just tactical ideas obtained in a particular age or a particular service. It will also be desirable, where analogies between ancient and modern weapons appear on the surface, to derive such probable lessons as they offer, without laying undue stress upon the points of resemblance. Finally, it must be remembered that, among all changes, the nature of man remains much the same; the personal equation, though uncertain in quantity and quality in the particular instance, is sure always to be found.
Here ends the general discussion of the main elements that positively or negatively impact the growth of sea power in nations. The focus has been, first, to examine these elements in their natural tendency for or against sea power, and then to illustrate with specific examples and historical experience. These discussions, while certainly covering a broader scope, mainly fall under the category of strategy, as opposed to tactics. The considerations and principles involved are part of the unchanging order of things, remaining constant in cause and effect from one era to the next. They belong, in a sense, to the Order of Nature, which is often referenced for its stability today; whereas tactics, which employs weapons crafted by humans, evolves with the progress of society from generation to generation. Occasionally, the structure of tactics needs to be adjusted or completely rebuilt; but the foundational principles of strategy largely endure, as if built on solid ground. There [89]will next be a look at the general history of Europe and America, specifically regarding the influence of sea power in its broadest sense on that history and the welfare of the people. From time to time, as the opportunity arises, the goal will be to reinforce the overall lessons that have been drawn with specific examples. The overall focus of the study will thus be strategical, following the broad definition of naval strategy previously quoted and agreed upon: "Naval strategy aims to establish, support, and enhance, both in peace and war, the sea power of a country." Concerning specific battles, while acknowledging that changing details have rendered much of the past teaching outdated, the effort will be made to highlight where the proper application or disregard of fundamental principles has led to significant outcomes; and, other things being equal, preference will be given to those actions that are associated with the names of the most notable officers, as they may illustrate how effectively tactical ideas were executed in a specific time or service. It will also be valuable, when analogies between ancient and modern weapons are evident, to draw lessons from them without overemphasizing the similarities. Lastly, it must be noted that, despite all changes, human nature remains largely consistent; the personal variable, though unpredictable in its specifics, is always present.
FOOTNOTES:
[7] By a base of permanent operations "is understood a country whence come all the resources, where are united the great lines of communication by land and water, where are the arsenals and armed posts."
[7] A base of permanent operations refers to a country that supplies all the resources, where major transportation routes by land and water converge, and where the arsenals and military outposts are located.
[8] An interesting proof of the weight attributed to the naval power of Great Britain by a great military authority will be found in the opening chapter of Jomini's "History of the Wars of the French Revolution." He lays down, as a fundamental principle of European policy, that an unlimited expansion of naval force should not be permitted to any nation which cannot be approached by land,—a description which can apply only to Great Britain.
[8] An intriguing example of how much importance is placed on Great Britain's naval power by a significant military expert can be found in the first chapter of Jomini's "History of the Wars of the French Revolution." He establishes a key principle of European policy, stating that no nation that cannot be reached by land should be allowed to expand its naval force without limits—a description that uniquely fits Great Britain.
[10] Whatever may be thought of Clerk's claim to originality in constructing a system of naval tactics, and it has been seriously impugned, there can be no doubt that his criticisms on the past were sound. So far as the author knows, he in this respect deserves credit for an originality remarkable in one who had the training neither of a seaman nor of a military man.
[10] Regardless of what people think about Clerk's originality in creating a naval tactics system—and that claim has been heavily questioned—there's no doubt that his criticisms of the past were valid. As far as the author knows, he deserves recognition for an impressive originality, especially considering he wasn't trained as a sailor or a military person.
[14] Since the above was written, the secretary of the navy, in his report for 1889, has recommended a fleet which would make such a blockade as here suggested very hazardous.
[14] Since this was written, the Secretary of the Navy, in his 1889 report, has suggested a fleet that would make a blockade like the one mentioned here very risky.
[15] The word "defence" in war involves two ideas, which for the sake of precision in thought should be kept separated in the mind. There is defence pure and simple, which strengthens itself and awaits attack. This may be called passive defence. On the other hand, there is a view of defence which asserts that safety for one's self, the real object of defensive preparation, is best secured by attacking the enemy. In the matter of sea-coast defence, the former method is exemplified by stationary fortifications, submarine mines, and generally all immobile works destined simply to stop an enemy if he tries to enter. The second method comprises all those means and weapons which do not wait for attack, but go to meet the enemy's fleet, whether it be but for a few miles, or whether to his own shores. Such a defence may seem to be really offensive war, but it is not; it becomes offensive only when its object of attack is changed from the enemy's fleet to the enemy's country. England defended her own coasts and colonies by stationing her fleets off the French ports, to fight the French fleet if it came out. The United States in the Civil War stationed her fleets off the Southern ports, not because she feared for her own, but to break down the Confederacy by isolation from the rest of the world, and ultimately by attacking the ports. The methods were the same; but the purpose in one case was defensive, in the other offensive.
[15] The term "defense" in warfare includes two concepts that, for clarity, should be viewed separately. First, there is pure defense, which strengthens and waits for an attack. This can be called passive defense. On the other hand, there's a perspective on defense that argues that true safety, the main goal of defensive preparation, is best achieved by going on the offensive against the enemy. For coastal defense, the first approach is illustrated by static fortifications, submarine mines, and all the fixed structures meant solely to prevent an enemy from entering. The second method includes all tools and weapons that proactively engage the enemy's fleet, whether just a few miles offshore or all the way to their shores. This kind of defense might appear to be an offensive strategy, but it's not; it only becomes offensive when the target shifts from the enemy's fleet to their homeland. England defended its coasts and colonies by deploying its fleets near French ports to confront the French fleet if it ventured out. During the Civil War, the United States positioned its fleets off Southern ports, not out of fear for its own safety, but to undermine the Confederacy by isolating it from the world and ultimately attacking its ports. The methods used were the same, but the intentions were defensive in one scenario and offensive in the other.
The confusion of the two ideas leads to much unnecessary wrangling as to the proper sphere of army and navy in coast-defence. Passive defences belong to the army; everything that moves in the water to the navy, which has the prerogative of the offensive defence. If seamen are used to garrison forts, they become part of the land forces, as surely as troops, when embarked as part of the complement, become part of the sea forces.
The mix-up of the two concepts results in a lot of unnecessary arguments about the appropriate roles of the army and navy in coastal defense. The army is responsible for passive defenses, while anything that moves in the water is handled by the navy, which has the right to take offensive action. If sailors are assigned to man coastal forts, they become part of the land forces, just as troops, when deployed on ships, become part of the naval forces.
CHAPTER II.ToC
State of Europe in 1660.—Second Anglo-Dutch War, 1665-1667. Sea Battles of Lowestoft and of The Four Days.
State of Europe in 1660.—Second Anglo-Dutch War, 1665-1667. Sea Battles of Lowestoft and of The Four Days.
The period at which our historical survey is to begin has been loosely stated as the middle of the seventeenth century. The year 1660 will now be taken as the definite date at which to open. In May of that year Charles II. was restored to the English throne amid the general rejoicing of the people. In March of the following year, upon the death of Cardinal Mazarin, Louis XIV. assembled his ministers and said to them: "I have summoned you to tell you that it has pleased me hitherto to permit my affairs to be governed by the late cardinal; I shall in future be my own prime minister. I direct that no decree be sealed except by my orders, and I order the secretaries of State and the superintendent of the finances to sign nothing without my command." The personal government thus assumed was maintained, in fact as well as in name, for over half a century.
The starting point for our historical overview is generally placed in the middle of the seventeenth century. We will now set 1660 as the specific year to begin. In May of that year, Charles II was restored to the English throne, celebrated by the widespread joy of the people. In March of the following year, after the death of Cardinal Mazarin, Louis XIV gathered his ministers and told them: "I have called you here to inform you that until now, I have allowed my affairs to be managed by the late cardinal; from now on, I will be my own prime minister. I direct that no decree be sealed without my orders, and I instruct the secretaries of State and the superintendent of finances to sign nothing without my command." This personal governance was maintained, both in practice and in title, for over fifty years.
Within one twelvemonth then are seen, setting forward upon a new stage of national life, after a period of confusion more or less prolonged, the two States which, amid whatever inequalities, have had the first places in the sea history of modern Europe and America, indeed, of the world at large. Sea history, however, is but one factor in that general advance and decay of nations which is called their history; and if sight be lost of the other factors to which it is so closely related, a distorted view, either exaggerated or the reverse, of its importance will be formed. It is with the belief that that importance is vastly underrated, if not practically lost sight [91]of, by people unconnected with the sea, and particularly by the people of the United States in our own day, that this study has been undertaken.
Within a year, we see two states stepping onto a new stage of national life after a period of confusion that lasted for varying lengths of time. These states, despite their differences, have held leading positions in the maritime history of modern Europe and America, indeed, of the entire world. However, maritime history is just one element in the overall rise and fall of nations known as their history. If we overlook the other factors closely tied to it, we may form a distorted view, either overly inflated or diminished, of its significance. This study has been undertaken with the belief that this significance is greatly underestimated, if not completely ignored, by people who are not connected to the sea, particularly by the people of the United States today. [91]
The date taken, 1660, followed closely another which marked a great settlement of European affairs, setting the seal of treaty upon the results of a general war, known to history as the Thirty Years' War. This other date was that of the Treaty of Westphalia, or Munster, in 1648. In this the independence of the Dutch United Provinces, long before practically assured, was formally acknowledged by Spain; and it being followed in 1659 by the Treaty of the Pyrenees between France and Spain, the two gave to Europe a state of general external peace, destined soon to be followed by a series of almost universal wars, which lasted as long as Louis XIV. lived,—wars which were to induce profound changes in the map of Europe; during which new States were to arise, others to decay, and all to undergo large modifications, either in extent of dominion or in political power. In these results maritime power, directly or indirectly, had a great share.
The date, 1660, closely followed another significant event that settled European affairs, marking the end of a major conflict known as the Thirty Years' War with a formal treaty. That earlier date was the Treaty of Westphalia, or Munster, in 1648. This treaty formally recognized the independence of the Dutch United Provinces, which had been practically assured for some time. It was followed in 1659 by the Treaty of the Pyrenees between France and Spain, leading to a period of general external peace in Europe. However, this peace was soon followed by a series of nearly universal wars that lasted throughout the life of Louis XIV. These wars caused significant changes in the map of Europe, leading to the rise of new states, the decline of others, and major alterations in territorial control and political power. Maritime power played a significant role in these outcomes, both directly and indirectly.
We must first look at the general condition of European States at the time from which the narrative starts. In the struggles, extending over nearly a century, whose end is marked by the Peace of Westphalia, the royal family known as the House of Austria had been the great overwhelming power which all others feared. During the long reign of the Emperor Charles V., who abdicated a century before, the head of that house had united in his own person the two crowns of Austria and Spain, which carried with them, among other possessions, the countries we now know as Holland and Belgium, together with a preponderating influence in Italy. After his abdication the two great monarchies of Austria and Spain were separated; but though ruled by different persons, they were still in the same family, and tended toward that unity of aim and sympathy which marked dynastic connections in that and the following century. To this bond of union was added that of a common religion. [92]During the century before the Peace of Westphalia, the extension of family power, and the extension of the religion professed, were the two strongest motives of political action. This was the period of the great religious wars which arrayed nation against nation, principality against principality, and often, in the same nation, faction against faction. Religious persecution caused the revolt of the Protestant Dutch Provinces against Spain, which issued, after eighty years of more or less constant war, in the recognition of their independence. Religious discord, amounting to civil war at times, distracted France during the greater part of the same period, profoundly affecting not only her internal but her external policy. These were the days of St. Bartholomew, of the religious murder of Henry IV., of the siege of La Rochelle, of constant intriguing between Roman Catholic Spain and Roman Catholic Frenchmen. As the religious motive, acting in a sphere to which it did not naturally belong, and in which it had no rightful place, died away, the political necessities and interests of States began to have juster weight; not that they had been wholly lost sight of in the mean time, but the religious animosities had either blinded the eyes, or fettered the action, of statesmen. It was natural that in France, one of the greatest sufferers from religious passions, owing to the number and character of the Protestant minority, this reaction should first and most markedly be seen. Placed between Spain and the German States, among which Austria stood foremost without a rival, internal union and checks upon the power of the House of Austria were necessities of political existence. Happily, Providence raised up to her in close succession two great rulers, Henry IV. and Richelieu,—men in whom religion fell short of bigotry, and who, when forced to recognize it in the sphere of politics, did so as masters and not as slaves. Under them French statesmanship received a guidance, which Richelieu formulated as a tradition, and which moved on the following general lines,—(1) Internal union of the kingdom, appeasing or putting down religious strife and centralizing [93]authority in the king; (2) Resistance to the power of the House of Austria, which actually and necessarily carried with it alliance with Protestant German States and with Holland; (3) Extension of the boundaries of France to the eastward, at the expense mainly of Spain, which then possessed not only the present Belgium, but other provinces long since incorporated with France; and (4) The creation and development of a great sea power, adding to the wealth of the kingdom, and intended specially to make head against France's hereditary enemy, England; for which end again the alliance with Holland was to be kept in view. Such were the broad outlines of policy laid down by statesmen in the front rank of genius for the guidance of that country whose people have, not without cause, claimed to be the most complete exponent of European civilization, foremost in the march of progress, combining political advance with individual development. This tradition, carried on by Mazarin, was received from him by Louis XIV.; it will be seen how far he was faithful to it, and what were the results to France of his action. Meanwhile it may be noted that of these four elements necessary to the greatness of France, sea power was one; and as the second and third were practically one in the means employed, it may be said that sea power was one of the two great means by which France's external greatness was to be maintained. England on the sea, Austria on the land, indicated the direction that French effort was to take.
We must first examine the overall situation of European states at the time when this story begins. In the struggles lasting nearly a century, culminating in the Peace of Westphalia, the royal family known as the House of Austria was the dominant power that everyone else feared. During the long reign of Emperor Charles V., who abdicated a century earlier, the head of that family held both the crowns of Austria and Spain, which included, among other territories, the regions we now call Holland and Belgium, along with significant influence in Italy. After his abdication, the two major monarchies of Austria and Spain were split; however, even though ruled by different leaders, they remained part of the same family and leaned towards the unity of purpose and solidarity that characterized dynastic ties in that era and the next. This bond was strengthened by a shared religion. [92]In the century leading up to the Peace of Westphalia, the expansion of family power and the spread of their religion were the two main drivers of political action. This was the period of the major religious wars that set nations and principalities against each other, and often, within the same nation, factions against factions. Religious persecution sparked the revolt of the Protestant Dutch Provinces against Spain, which, after eighty years of nearly constant warfare, resulted in their independence being recognized. Religious conflict, sometimes resembling a civil war, plagued France for much of the same period, deeply impacting both her domestic and foreign policies. These were the times of the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre, the assassination of Henry IV., the siege of La Rochelle, and ongoing scheming between Catholic Spain and Catholic France. As the religious motivation, which had intruded into areas where it didn't belong and had no rightful position, faded, the political needs and interests of states began to hold more sway; they hadn't been completely ignored in the meantime, but the religious hostilities had either blinded statesmen or restricted their actions. It was natural that in France, one of the biggest victims of religious fervor due to the size and nature of the Protestant minority, this shift should be most evident. Sandwiched between Spain and the German States, with Austria standing out as the most powerful, internal unity and checks on the power of the House of Austria became essential for political survival. Fortunately, destiny brought France two remarkable leaders in quick succession, Henry IV. and Richelieu—men whose understanding of religion was free of fanaticism and who, when compelled to acknowledge its role in politics, did so as masters rather than subservients. Under their guidance, French statesmanship developed a framework that Richelieu formalized as a tradition, which followed these main principles: (1) Internal unity of the kingdom, calming or suppressing religious conflict and centralizing authority in the king; (2) Opposition to the power of the House of Austria, which inevitably required alliances with Protestant German states and Holland; (3) Expansion of France's borders to the east, primarily at the expense of Spain, which then controlled not only modern Belgium but other provinces that have long since become part of France; and (4) The creation and growth of a strong naval power, which would increase the kingdom's wealth and particularly counter France's longtime adversary, England; for this purpose, maintaining an alliance with Holland was also important. These were the broad policy outlines established by top-ranking statesmen for guiding a country whose people have claimed, not without reason, to be the most complete representatives of European civilization, leading in progress while balancing political and personal development. This tradition, carried on by Mazarin, was passed down to Louis XIV.; it will be shown how faithfully he followed it and what the consequences of his actions were for France. In the meantime, it's worth noting that among the four key elements essential for France's greatness, sea power was one; and since the second and third were practically unified in their methods, it can be said that sea power was one of the two major means through which France's external greatness was to be maintained. England ruled the seas, Austria the land, indicating the direction French efforts were to take.
As regards the condition of France in 1660, and her readiness to move onward in the road marked by Richelieu, it may be said that internal peace was secured, the power of the nobles wholly broken, religious discords at rest; the tolerant edict of Nantes was still in force, while the remaining Protestant discontent had been put down by the armed hand. All power was absolutely centred in the throne. In other respects, though the kingdom was at peace, the condition was less satisfactory. There was practically no navy; commerce, internal and external, was not prosperous; the finances were in disorder; the army small.
Regarding the situation in France in 1660 and her readiness to continue on the path laid out by Richelieu, it can be said that internal peace was achieved, the power of the nobles was completely broken, and religious conflicts were settled; the Edict of Nantes was still in effect, while remaining Protestant discontent was suppressed by force. All power was completely centralized in the monarchy. In other ways, even though the kingdom was at peace, the situation was less favorable. There was virtually no navy; trade, both domestic and international, was struggling; the finances were chaotic; and the army was small.
[94]Spain, the nation before which all others had trembled less than a century before, was now long in decay and scarcely formidable; the central weakness had spread to all parts of the administration. In extent of territory, however, she was still great. The Spanish Netherlands still belonged to her; she held Naples, Sicily, and Sardinia; Gibraltar had not yet fallen into English hands; her vast possessions in America—with the exception of Jamaica, conquered by England a few years before—were still untouched. The condition of her sea power, both for peace and war, has been already alluded to. Many years before, Richelieu had contracted a temporary alliance with Spain, by virtue of which she placed forty ships at his disposal; but the bad condition of the vessels, for the most part ill armed and ill commanded, compelled their withdrawal. The navy of Spain was then in full decay, and its weakness did not escape the piercing eye of the cardinal. An encounter which took place between the Spanish and Dutch fleets in 1639 shows most plainly the state of degradation into which this once proud navy had fallen.
[94]Spain, a nation that had made others tremble less than a century ago, was now in decline and hardly a threat; the central weakness had spread throughout the entire government. However, in terms of land, she still held significant territory. The Spanish Netherlands were still hers; she controlled Naples, Sicily, and Sardinia; Gibraltar had not yet fallen to the English; her vast American territories—except for Jamaica, which England had conquered a few years earlier—remained intact. The state of her naval power, both in peacetime and wartime, has been mentioned earlier. Many years prior, Richelieu had formed a temporary alliance with Spain, allowing her to provide him with forty ships; however, due to the poor condition of the vessels, which were mainly poorly armed and poorly commanded, they had to be withdrawn. At that time, the Spanish navy was in complete decline, and its weakness did not go unnoticed by the keen-eyed cardinal. A confrontation between the Spanish and Dutch fleets in 1639 clearly revealed how degraded this once-mighty navy had become.
"Her navy at this time," says the narrative quoted, "met one of those shocks, a succession of which during this war degraded her from her high station of mistress of the seas in both hemispheres, to a contemptible rank among maritime powers. The king was fitting out a powerful fleet to carry the war to the coasts of Sweden, and for its equipment had commanded a reinforcement of men and provisions to be sent from Dunkirk. A fleet accordingly set sail, but were attacked by Von Tromp, some captured, the remainder forced to retire within the harbor again. Soon after, Tromp seized three English [neutral] ships carrying 1070 Spanish soldiers from Cadiz to Dunkirk; he took the troops out, but let the ships go free. Leaving seventeen vessels to blockade Dunkirk, Tromp with the remaining twelve advanced to meet the enemy's fleet on its arrival. It was soon seen entering the Straits of Dover to the number of sixty-seven sail, and having two thousand troops. Being joined by De Witt with four more ships, Tromp with his small force made a resolute attack upon the enemy. The fight lasted till four P.M., when the Spanish admiral took refuge in the Downs. Tromp determined to engage if they should come out; but Oquendo with his powerful [95]fleet, many of which carried from sixty to a hundred guns, suffered himself to be blockaded; and the English admiral told Tromp he was ordered to join the Spaniards if hostilities began. Tromp sent home for instructions, and the action of England only served to call out the vast maritime powers of the Dutch. Tromp was rapidly reinforced to ninety-six sail and twelve fire-ships, and ordered to attack. Leaving a detached squadron to observe the English, and to attack them if they helped the Spaniards, he began the fight embarrassed by a thick fog, under cover of which the Spaniards cut their cables to escape. Many running too close to shore went aground, and most of the remainder attempting to retreat were sunk, captured, or driven on the French coast. Never was victory more complete."[16]
"At this time," says the quoted narrative, "her navy faced one of those blows, a series of which during this war lowered her from her prestigious position as the dominant naval power in both hemispheres to a pitiful status among maritime nations. The king was assembling a powerful fleet to bring the war to the shores of Sweden, and had ordered a reinforcement of men and supplies to be sent from Dunkirk. A fleet set sail as planned, but they were attacked by Von Tromp, with some captured and the rest forced to retreat back into the harbor. Shortly after, Tromp captured three English [neutral] ships carrying 1,070 Spanish soldiers from Cadiz to Dunkirk; he removed the troops but let the ships go free. Leaving seventeen vessels to blockade Dunkirk, Tromp took the remaining twelve to confront the enemy's fleet as it arrived. It quickly became clear that they were entering the Straits of Dover with sixty-seven ships and two thousand troops. Joined by De Witt with four additional ships, Tromp and his small force bravely attacked the enemy. The battle lasted until four PM, when the Spanish admiral sought refuge in the Downs. Tromp was ready to engage if they came out; however, Oquendo, with his powerful [95] fleet, many ships carrying sixty to a hundred guns, allowed himself to be blockaded, and the English admiral informed Tromp that he was ordered to support the Spaniards if fighting broke out. Tromp requested instructions from home, and England's actions only served to rally the immense maritime resources of the Dutch. Tromp quickly received reinforcements up to ninety-six ships and twelve fire ships, and was ordered to attack. He left a small squadron to monitor the English and to engage them if they aided the Spaniards. He began the battle amid a thick fog, under which the Spaniards cut their cables to escape. Many ships ran too close to shore and ran aground, while most of the others attempting to retreat were sunk, captured, or driven onto the French coast. Never had victory been more complete."[16]
When a navy submits to such a line of action, all tone and pride must have departed; but the navy only shared in the general decline which made Spain henceforward have an ever lessening weight in the policy of Europe.
When a navy goes along with such a course of action, all sense of dignity and pride must be gone; but the navy was just part of the overall decline that caused Spain to have an increasingly diminishing influence in European policy moving forward.
"In the midst of the splendors of her court and language," says Guizot, "the Spanish government felt itself weak, and sought to hide its weakness under its immobility. Philip IV. and his minister, weary of striving only to be conquered, looked but for the security of peace, and only sought to put aside all questions which would call for efforts of which they felt themselves incapable. Divided and enervated, the house of Austria had even less ambition than power, and except when absolutely forced, a pompous inertia became the policy of the successors of Charles V."[17]
"In the midst of the beauty of her court and language," says Guizot, "the Spanish government felt weak and tried to cover up its weakness with its inaction. Philip IV and his minister, tired of striving only to be defeated, were looking for peace and sought to avoid any issues that would require efforts they felt incapable of. Divided and weakened, the house of Austria had even less ambition than power, and unless absolutely forced, a showy inertia became the strategy of Charles V's successors."[17]
Such was the Spain of that day. That part of the Spanish dominions which was then known as the Low Countries, or the Roman Catholic Netherlands (our modern Belgium), was about to be a fruitful source of variance between France and her natural ally, the Dutch Republic. This State, whose political name was the United Provinces, had now reached the summit of its influence and power,—a power based, as has already been explained, wholly upon the sea, and upon the use of that element made by the great maritime and commercial genius of the Dutch people. A recent French author [96]thus describes the commercial and colonial conditions, at the accession of Louis XIV., of this people, which beyond any other in modern times, save only England, has shown how the harvest of the sea can lift up to wealth and power a country intrinsically weak and without resources:—
Such was Spain in those days. The part of the Spanish territories known as the Low Countries, or the Roman Catholic Netherlands (now Belgium), was about to become a major source of conflict between France and its natural ally, the Dutch Republic. This state, officially called the United Provinces, had now reached the peak of its influence and power — a power entirely derived from the sea and the maritime and commercial expertise of the Dutch people. A recent French author [96] describes the commercial and colonial situation at the time Louis XIV took the throne, highlighting how this nation, second only to England in modern history, demonstrated how the resources of the sea could elevate a country that was otherwise weak and lacking in resources:—
"Holland had become the Phœnicia of modern times. Mistresses of the Scheldt, the United Provinces closed the outlets of Antwerp to the sea, and inherited the commercial power of that rich city, which an ambassador of Venice in the fifteenth century had compared to Venice herself. They received besides in their principal cities the workingmen of the Low Countries who fled from Spanish tyranny of conscience. The manufactures of clothes, linen stuffs, etc., which employed six hundred thousand souls, opened new sources of gain to a people previously content with the trade in cheese and fish. Fisheries alone had already enriched them. The herring fishery supported nearly one fifth of the population of Holland, producing three hundred thousand tons of salt-fish, and bringing in more than eight million francs annually.
Holland had become the Phoenicia of modern times. As the masters of the Scheldt, the United Provinces cut off Antwerp's access to the sea and took over the commercial power of that wealthy city, which a Venetian ambassador in the fifteenth century had compared to Venice itself. They also welcomed in their main cities the workers from the Low Countries who were fleeing Spanish oppression. The industries producing clothing, linens, and more, which employed six hundred thousand people, opened up new sources of income for a population that had previously been satisfied with trading cheese and fish. Their fishing industry had already made them prosperous. The herring fishery supported nearly one-fifth of Holland's population, producing three hundred thousand tons of salt fish and generating more than eight million francs each year.
"The naval and commercial power of the republic developed rapidly. The merchant fleet of Holland alone numbered 10,000 sail, 168,000 seamen, and supported 260,000 inhabitants. She had taken possession of the greater part of the European carrying-trade, and had added thereto, since the peace, all the carriage of merchandise between America and Spain, did the same service for the French ports, and maintained an importation traffic of thirty-six million francs. The north countries, Brandenburg, Denmark, Sweden, Muscovy, Poland, access to which was opened by the Baltic to the Provinces, were for them an inexhaustible market of exchange. They fed it by the produce they sold there, and by purchase of the products of the North,—wheat, timber, copper, hemp, and furs. The total value of merchandise yearly shipped in Dutch bottoms, in all seas, exceeded a thousand million francs. The Dutch had made themselves, to use a contemporary phrase, the wagoners of all seas."[18]
"The naval and commercial power of the republic grew quickly. The merchant fleet of Holland alone had 10,000 ships, 168,000 sailors, and supported 260,000 people. It had taken over most of the European carrying trade and, since the peace, had also managed all the transportation of goods between America and Spain, provided the same service for the French ports, and maintained an import trade worth thirty-six million francs. The northern countries—Brandenburg, Denmark, Sweden, Muscovy, Poland—opened up to the provinces through the Baltic, creating an endless market for exchange. They supplied it with the products they sold there and purchased goods from the North—wheat, timber, copper, hemp, and furs. The total yearly value of goods shipped on Dutch vessels across all seas exceeded a thousand million francs. The Dutch had established themselves, to use a modern term, as the transporters of all seas." [18]
It was through its colonies that the republic had been able thus to develop its sea trade. It had the monopoly of all the products of the East. Produce and spices from Asia were by her brought to Europe of a yearly value of sixteen million [97]francs. The powerful East India Company, founded in 1602, had built up in Asia an empire, with possessions taken from the Portuguese. Mistress in 1650 of the Cape of Good Hope, which guaranteed it a stopping-place for its ships, it reigned as a sovereign in Ceylon, and upon the coasts of Malabar and Coromandel. It had made Batavia its seat of government, and extended its traffic to China and Japan. Meanwhile the West India Company, of more rapid rise, but less durable, had manned eight hundred ships of war and trade. It had used them to seize the remnants of Portuguese power upon the shores of Guinea, as well as in Brazil.
It was through its colonies that the republic had been able to develop its sea trade. It had a monopoly on all the products of the East. Produce and spices from Asia were brought to Europe annually, valued at sixteen million [97] francs. The powerful East India Company, founded in 1602, built an empire in Asia, taking over possessions from the Portuguese. By 1650, it controlled the Cape of Good Hope, ensuring a stopover for its ships, and ruled over Ceylon and the coasts of Malabar and Coromandel. Batavia became its government headquarters, and it extended its trade to China and Japan. Meanwhile, the West India Company, which rose more quickly but was less stable, manned eight hundred warships and merchant vessels. It used them to take over the remnants of Portuguese power along the shores of Guinea and in Brazil.
The United Provinces had thus become the warehouse wherein were collected the products of all nations.
The United Provinces had thus become the storage place collecting products from all nations.
The colonies of the Dutch at this time were scattered throughout the eastern seas, in India, in Malacca, in Java, the Moluccas, and various parts of the vast archipelago lying to the northward of Australia. They had possessions on the west coast of Africa, and as yet the colony of New Amsterdam remained in their hands. In South America the Dutch West India Company had owned nearly three hundred leagues of coast from Bahia in Brazil northward; but much had recently escaped from their hands.
The Dutch colonies during this time were spread out across the eastern seas, in places like India, Malacca, Java, the Moluccas, and various regions of the large archipelago to the north of Australia. They had territories on the west coast of Africa, and the colony of New Amsterdam was still under their control. In South America, the Dutch West India Company had once owned nearly three hundred leagues of coastline from Bahia in Brazil going north, but a lot of that had recently slipped away from them.
The United Provinces owed their consideration and power to their wealth and their fleets. The sea, which beats like an inveterate enemy against their shores, had been subdued and made a useful servant; the land was to prove their destruction. A long and fierce strife had been maintained with an enemy more cruel than the sea,—the Spanish kingdom; the successful ending, with its delusive promise of rest and peace, but sounded the knell of the Dutch Republic. So long as the power of Spain remained unimpaired, or at least great enough to keep up the terror that she had long inspired, it was to the interest of England and of France, both sufferers from Spanish menace and intrigue, that the United Provinces should be strong and independent. When Spain fell,—and repeated humiliations showed that her weakness was real and not seeming,—other motives took the place of fear. [98]England coveted Holland's trade and sea dominion; France desired the Spanish Netherlands. The United Provinces had reason to oppose the latter as well as the former.
The United Provinces gained their influence and strength from their wealth and fleets. The sea, which relentlessly battered their shores, had been tamed and turned into a valuable ally; however, the land would lead to their downfall. They had engaged in a long and brutal conflict with a foe more ruthless than the sea—the Spanish kingdom. The war ended successfully, bringing the false promise of rest and peace, but it also signaled the decline of the Dutch Republic. As long as Spain retained its power, or at least enough to maintain the fear it had long instilled, it benefited both England and France, who were also threatened by Spanish aggression and schemes, that the United Provinces remained strong and independent. When Spain weakened—and multiple defeats made it clear that its decline was genuine—new motives emerged beyond fear. [98]England aimed to seize Holland's trade and naval supremacy; France wanted the Spanish Netherlands. The United Provinces had reasons to resist both.
Under the combined assaults of the two rival nations, the intrinsic weakness of the United Provinces was soon to be felt and seen. Open to attack by the land, few in numbers, and with a government ill adapted to put forth the united strength of a people, above all unfitted to keep up adequate preparation for war, the decline of the republic and the nation was to be more striking and rapid than the rise. As yet, however, in 1660, no indications of the coming fall were remarked. The republic was still in the front rank of the great powers of Europe. If, in 1654, the war with England had shown a state of unreadiness wonderful in a navy that had so long humbled the pride of Spain on the seas, on the other hand the Provinces, in 1657, had effectually put a stop to the insults of France directed against her commerce; and a year later, "by their interference in the Baltic between Denmark and Sweden, they had hindered Sweden from establishing in the North a preponderance disastrous to them. They forced her to leave open the entrance to the Baltic, of which they remained masters, no other navy being able to dispute its control with them. The superiority of their fleet, the valor of their troops, the skill and firmness of their diplomacy, had caused the prestige of their government to be recognized. Weakened and humiliated by the last English war, they had replaced themselves in the rank of great powers. At this moment Charles II. was restored."
Under the combined attacks of the two rival nations, the inherent weaknesses of the United Provinces soon became evident. Vulnerable to land assaults, limited in numbers, and with a government poorly suited to harness the collective strength of the people, especially unprepared for war, the decline of the republic and the nation would be more striking and rapid than its ascent. However, in 1660, there were still no signs of the impending fall. The republic remained among the top powers in Europe. While the war with England in 1654 revealed an astonishing lack of readiness in a navy that had long overshadowed Spain's naval pride, the Provinces effectively halted France's attacks on their trade in 1657. A year later, by intervening in the Baltic conflict between Denmark and Sweden, they prevented Sweden from establishing a dominance in the North that would be detrimental to them. They forced Sweden to keep the entrance to the Baltic open, which they controlled, as no other navy could challenge them. Their fleet's superiority, the bravery of their troops, and the skill and determination of their diplomacy had garnered respect for their government. Weakened and humiliated by the recent English war, they regained their status among the great powers. At this point, Charles II was restored.
The general character of the government has been before mentioned, and need here only be recalled. It was a loosely knit confederacy, administered by what may not inaccurately be called a commercial aristocracy, with all the political timidity of that class, which has so much to risk in war. The effect of these two factors, sectional jealousy and commercial spirit, upon the military navy was disastrous. It was not kept up properly in peace, there were necessarily rivalries in a fleet which was rather a maritime coalition than a united [99]navy, and there was too little of a true military spirit among the officers. A more heroic people than the Dutch never existed; the annals of Dutch sea-fights give instances of desperate enterprise and endurance certainly not excelled, perhaps never equalled, elsewhere; but they also exhibit instances of defection and misconduct which show a lack of military spirit, due evidently to lack of professional pride and training. This professional training scarcely existed in any navy of that day, but its place was largely supplied in monarchical countries by the feeling of a military caste. It remains to be noted that the government, weak enough from the causes named, was yet weaker from the division of the people into two great factions bitterly hating each other. The one, which was the party of the merchants (burgomasters), and now in power, favored the confederate republic as described; the other desired a monarchical government under the House of Orange. The Republican party wished for a French alliance, if possible, and a strong navy; the Orange party favored England, to whose royal house the Prince of Orange was closely related, and a powerful army. Under these conditions of government, and weak in numbers, the United Provinces in 1660, with their vast wealth and external activities, resembled a man kept up by stimulants. Factitious strength cannot endure indefinitely; but it is wonderful to see this small State, weaker by far in numbers than either England or France, endure the onslaught of either singly, and for two years of both in alliance, not only without being destroyed, but without losing her place in Europe. She owed this astonishing result partly to the skill of one or two men, but mainly to her sea power.
The general nature of the government has been previously mentioned and just needs to be recalled here. It was a loosely connected confederation, run by what can reasonably be called a commercial elite, with all the political hesitation typical of that class, which has a lot to lose in war. The impact of these two factors, regional rivalries and a commercial mindset, on the military navy was disastrous. It wasn't maintained properly in peacetime, there were inevitable rivalries in a fleet that was more of a maritime coalition than a united [99]navy, and there was a severe lack of true military spirit among the officers. There has never been a more heroic people than the Dutch; the records of Dutch naval battles show examples of daring and endurance that are certainly unmatched, perhaps never equaled elsewhere. However, they also reveal instances of betrayal and misconduct, indicating a deficiency in military spirit, clearly due to a lack of professional pride and training. This professional training barely existed in any navy of that time, but in monarchies, it was largely replaced by the feeling of a military class. It’s worth noting that the government, already weakened by previously mentioned causes, was made even weaker by the division of the people into two major factions that deeply loathed each other. One faction, made up of merchants (burgomasters) and currently in power, supported the confederate republic as described; the other wanted a monarchical government under the House of Orange. The Republican faction sought a partnership with France, if possible, and a strong navy; the Orange faction favored England, to which the Prince of Orange was closely related, and a powerful army. Given these governmental conditions, and weak in numbers, the United Provinces in 1660, with their vast wealth and foreign activities, resembled a man sustained by stimulants. Artificial strength cannot last indefinitely; however, it’s remarkable to see this small state, significantly weaker in numbers than either England or France, withstand attacks from either alone and for two years from both in alliance, not only without being destroyed but also without losing its position in Europe. This astonishing outcome was owed partly to the skill of one or two individuals but mainly to its naval power.
The conditions of England, with reference to her fitness to enter upon the impending strife, differed from those of both Holland and France. Although monarchical in government, and with much real power in the king's hands, the latter was not able to direct the policy of the kingdom wholly at his will. He had to reckon, as Louis had not, with the temper and wishes of his people. What Louis gained for France, [100]he gained for himself; the glory of France was his glory. Charles aimed first at his own advantage, then at that of England; but, with the memory of the past ever before him, he was determined above all not to incur his father's fate nor a repetition of his own exile. Therefore, when danger became imminent, he gave way before the feeling of the English nation. Charles himself hated Holland; he hated it as a republic; he hated the existing government because opposed in internal affairs to his connections, the House of Orange; and he hated it yet more because in the days of his exile, the republic, as one of the conditions of peace with Cromwell, had driven him from her borders. He was drawn to France by the political sympathy of a would-be absolute ruler, possibly by his Roman Catholic bias, and very largely by the money paid him by Louis, which partially freed him from the control of Parliament. In following these tendencies of his own, Charles had to take account of certain decided wishes of his people. The English, of the same race as the Dutch, and with similar conditions of situation, were declared rivals for the control of the sea and of commerce; and as the Dutch were now leading in the race, the English were the more eager and bitter. A special cause of grievance was found in the action of the Dutch East India Company, "which claimed the monopoly of trade in the East, and had obliged distant princes with whom it treated to close their States to foreign nations, who were thus excluded, not only from the Dutch colonies, but from all the territory of the Indies." Conscious of greater strength, the English also wished to control the action of Dutch politics, and in the days of the English Republic had even sought to impose a union of the two governments. At the first, therefore, popular rivalry and enmity seconded the king's wishes; the more so as France had not for some years been formidable on the continent. As soon, however, as the aggressive policy of Louis XIV. was generally recognized, the English people, both nobles and commons, felt the great danger to be there, as a century before it had been in Spain. The transfer of the [101]Spanish Netherlands (Belgium) to France would tend toward the subjection of Europe, and especially would be a blow to the sea power both of the Dutch and English; for it was not to be supposed that Louis would allow the Scheldt and port of Antwerp to remain closed, as they then were, under a treaty wrung by the Dutch from the weakness of Spain. The reopening to commerce of that great city would be a blow alike to Amsterdam and to London. With the revival of inherited opposition to France the ties of kindred began to tell; the memory of past alliance against the tyranny of Spain was recalled; and similarity of religious faith, still a powerful motive, drew the two together. At the same time the great and systematic efforts of Colbert to build up the commerce and the navy of France excited the jealousy of both the sea powers; rivals themselves, they instinctively turned against a third party intruding upon their domain. Charles was unable to resist the pressure of his people under all these motives; wars between England and Holland ceased, and were followed, after Charles's death, by close alliance.
The situation in England regarding its readiness for the upcoming conflict was different from that of both Holland and France. Despite being a monarchy and having significant real power, the king couldn't fully dictate the country's policies as he pleased. He had to consider, unlike Louis, the feelings and desires of his people. What Louis achieved for France, he did for himself; France's glory was his glory. Charles prioritized his own benefit first, then that of England; however, with the past always in mind, he was determined not to repeat his father's fate or go into exile again. So, when danger loomed, he bowed to the sentiments of the English nation. Charles personally disliked Holland; he resented it as a republic, opposed its government due to his ties to the House of Orange, and loathed it even more since, during his exile, the republic had forced him from its borders as a condition of peace with Cromwell. He was drawn to France by the political spirit of someone aiming for absolute power, possibly influenced by his Roman Catholic leanings, and largely by the financial support he received from Louis, which helped ease his dependence on Parliament. While following his own interests, Charles also had to consider the strong desires of his people. The English, of the same ethnicity as the Dutch and facing similar conditions, were fierce competitors for naval and commercial dominance; as the Dutch were currently ahead, the English felt more eager and resentful. A specific grievance stemmed from the Dutch East India Company, which claimed a monopoly on Eastern trade and pressured distant rulers it worked with to shut their borders to foreign nations, thereby excluding them from Dutch colonies and all Indian territories. Aware of their greater strength, the English wanted to influence Dutch politics, and during the time of the English Republic, they even tried to create a union between the two governments. At first, the public rivalries and animosities supported the king's desires, especially since France hadn't been a significant threat on the continent for several years. However, once Louis XIV's aggressive policies became widely recognized, both the English nobility and commoners felt the significant danger presented by that threat, just as a century before they had viewed Spain. The transfer of the [101]Spanish Netherlands (Belgium) to France would likely lead to the domination of Europe, particularly posing a threat to both Dutch and English naval power; it was clear that Louis wouldn't allow the Scheldt and port of Antwerp to remain closed as they were under a treaty negotiated by the Dutch during Spain's weakness. The reopening of that major city to trade would harm both Amsterdam and London. As inherited opposition to France resurfaced, the familial ties began to matter; memories of past alliances against Spanish tyranny were recalled, and shared religious beliefs, still a strong motivator, brought the two nations closer. Meanwhile, the extensive efforts of Colbert to strengthen France's commerce and navy stoked jealousy among both maritime powers; as rivals themselves, they instinctively turned against a third party trespassing on their territory. Charles could not resist the pressure from his people under all these influences; conflicts between England and Holland ceased, leading to a close alliance after Charles's death.
Although her commerce was less extensive, the navy of England in 1660 was superior to that of Holland, particularly in organization and efficiency. The stern, enthusiastic religious government of Cromwell, grounded on military strength, had made its mark both on the fleet and army. The names of several of the superior officers under the Protector, among which that of Monk stands foremost, appear in the narrative of the first of the Dutch wars under Charles. This superiority in tone and discipline gradually disappeared under the corrupting influence of court favor in a licentious government; and Holland, which upon the whole was worsted by England alone upon the sea in 1665, successfully resisted the combined navies of England and France in 1672. As regards the material of the three fleets, we are told that the French ships had greater displacement than the English relatively to the weight of artillery and stores; hence they could keep, when fully loaded, a greater height of battery. Their hulls also had better lines. These advantages would [102]naturally follow from the thoughtful and systematic way in which the French navy at that time was restored from a state of decay, and has a lesson of hope for us in the present analogous condition of our own navy. The Dutch ships, from the character of their coast, were flatter-bottomed and of less draught, and thus were able, when pressed, to find a refuge among the shoals; but they were in consequence less weatherly and generally of lighter scantling than those of either of the other nations.
Although her trade was smaller, England's navy in 1660 was stronger than Holland's, especially in terms of organization and efficiency. The strict, passionate religious government of Cromwell, based on military power, had left a significant impact on both the fleet and the army. The names of several top officers under the Protector, with Monk’s name being the most prominent, are mentioned in the story of the first Dutch wars during Charles’s reign. This superiority in discipline and attitude gradually faded under the corrupting influence of court favoritism in a lascivious government; and Holland, which was generally defeated by England at sea in 1665, successfully resisted the united navies of England and France in 1672. Regarding the material of the three fleets, it is noted that French ships had a greater displacement than the English relative to the weight of weapons and supplies; therefore, they could maintain a higher battery height when fully loaded. Their hulls also had better shapes. These advantages would [102] naturally result from the careful and systematic way in which the French navy was restored from a state of decline at that time, offering a hopeful lesson for us in the current similar situation of our own navy. The Dutch ships, due to the nature of their coastline, had flatter bottoms and less draft, which allowed them, when in a bind, to take refuge among the shallow waters; however, this made them less weatherly and generally lighter built than those of either of the other nations.
Thus as briefly as possible have been sketched the conditions, degree of power, and aims which shaped and controlled the policy of the four principal seaboard States of the day,—Spain, France, England, and Holland. From the point of view of this history, these will come most prominently and most often into notice; but as other States exercised a powerful influence upon the course of events, and our aim is not merely naval history but an appreciation of the effect of naval and commercial power upon the course of general history, it is necessary to state shortly the condition of the rest of Europe. America had not yet begun to play a prominent part in the pages of history or in the policies of cabinets.
Here's a brief overview of the conditions, power levels, and goals that shaped and influenced the policies of the four main coastal states of the time—Spain, France, England, and Holland. From the perspective of this history, these will be the most significant and frequently highlighted. However, since other states also had a strong impact on the events that unfolded, and our goal is not just to focus on naval history but to understand how naval and commercial power influenced broader historical events, it's important to briefly outline the situation in the rest of Europe. America had not yet started to take on a significant role in history or in government policies.
Germany was then divided into many small governments, with the one great empire of Austria. The policy of the smaller States shifted, and it was the aim of France to combine as many of them as possible under her influence, in pursuance of her traditional opposition to Austria. With France thus working against her on the one side, Austria was in imminent peril on the other from the constant assaults of the Turkish Empire, still vigorous though decaying. The policy of France had long inclined to friendly relations with Turkey, not only as a check upon Austria, but also from her wish to engross the trade with the Levant. Colbert, in his extreme eagerness for the sea power of France, favored this alliance. It will be remembered that Greece and Egypt were then parts of the Turkish Empire.
Germany was then divided into many small governments, with Austria being the only major empire. The smaller States were changing their policies, and France aimed to bring as many of them as possible under her influence, in line with her longstanding rivalry with Austria. With France working against her on one side, Austria was facing immediate danger from constant attacks by the Turkish Empire, which, while weakened, was still strong. France had long been inclined toward friendly relations with Turkey, not just to counter Austria but also to monopolize trade with the Levant. Colbert, in his strong push for France's naval power, supported this alliance. It's worth noting that Greece and Egypt were then part of the Turkish Empire.
Prussia as now known did not exist. The foundations of [103]the future kingdom were then being prepared by the Elector of Brandenburg, a powerful minor State, which was not yet able to stand quite alone, but carefully avoided a formally dependent position. The kingdom of Poland still existed, a most disturbing and important factor in European politics, because of its weak and unsettled government, which kept every other State anxious lest some unforeseen turn of events there should tend to the advantage of a rival. It was the traditional policy of France to keep Poland upright and strong. Russia was still below the horizon; coming, but not yet come, within the circle of European States and their living interests. She and the other powers bordering upon the Baltic were naturally rivals for preponderance in that sea, in which the other States, and above all the maritime States, had a particular interest as the source from which naval stores of every kind were chiefly drawn. Sweden and Denmark were at this time in a state of constant enmity, and were to be found on opposite sides in the quarrels that prevailed. For many years past, and during the early wars of Louis XIV., Sweden was for the most part in alliance with France; her bias was that way.
Prussia, as we know it today, didn’t exist yet. The groundwork for the future kingdom was being laid by the Elector of Brandenburg, a powerful but still not fully independent minor state, which was careful to avoid a formally dependent status. The kingdom of Poland was still around, serving as a significant and unsettling factor in European politics due to its weak and unstable government, causing anxiety among other states that feared any unexpected developments could benefit a rival. France traditionally aimed to keep Poland strong and stable. Russia was still on the horizon, approaching but not yet part of the group of European states and their active interests. She, along with neighboring powers by the Baltic Sea, were competing for dominance in those waters, which were particularly important to other states, especially maritime ones, as the primary source of naval supplies. During this time, Sweden and Denmark were in a constant state of hostility, often found on opposing sides in various conflicts. For many years, especially during the early wars of Louis XIV, Sweden was largely allied with France; that was her inclination.
The general state of Europe being as described, the spring that was to set the various wheels in motion was in the hands of Louis XIV. The weakness of his immediate neighbors, the great resources of his kingdom, only waiting for development, the unity of direction resulting from his absolute power, his own practical talent and untiring industry, aided during the first half of his reign by a combination of ministers of singular ability, all united to make every government in Europe hang more or less upon his action, and be determined by, if not follow, his lead. The greatness of France was his object, and he had the choice of advancing it by either of two roads,—by the land or by the sea; not that the one wholly forbade the other, but that France, overwhelmingly strong as she then was, had not power to move with equal steps on both paths.
The overall situation in Europe being what it was, the power to set things in motion was in the hands of Louis XIV. The weakness of his nearby neighbors, along with the vast untapped resources of his kingdom, and the unified direction stemming from his absolute authority, combined with his practical skills and relentless work ethic—strengthened during the first half of his reign by a group of exceptionally talented ministers—all meant that every government in Europe depended to some extent on his actions and was influenced by his leadership. His goal was the greatness of France, and he had to choose between two paths to achieve it—by land or by sea; not that one completely excluded the other, but France, as strong as she was at the time, did not have the capability to advance equally on both fronts.
Louis chose extension by land. He had married the eldest daughter of Philip IV., the then reigning king of Spain; and [104]though by the treaty of marriage she had renounced all claim to her father's inheritance, it was not difficult to find reasons for disregarding this stipulation. Technical grounds were found for setting it aside as regarded certain portions of the Netherlands and Franche Comté, and negotiations were entered into with the court of Spain to annul it altogether. The matter was the more important because the male heir to the throne was so feeble that it was evident that the Austrian line of Spanish kings would end in him. The desire to put a French prince on the Spanish throne—either himself, thus uniting the two crowns, or else one of his family, thus putting the House of Bourbon in authority on both sides of the Pyrenees—was the false light which led Louis astray during the rest of his reign, to the final destruction of the sea power of France and the impoverishment and misery of his people. Louis failed to understand that he had to reckon with all Europe. The direct project on the Spanish throne had to wait for a vacancy; but he got ready at once to move upon the Spanish possessions to the east of France.
Louis chose to expand through land. He had married the eldest daughter of Philip IV, the reigning king of Spain; and [104] even though she had given up any claim to her father's inheritance as part of their marriage treaty, it wasn't hard to find excuses to ignore that agreement. Legal justifications were found to bypass it concerning certain areas of the Netherlands and Franche Comté, and discussions were initiated with the Spanish court to cancel it entirely. This issue was particularly significant because the male heir to the throne was so weak that it was clear the Austrian line of Spanish kings would die with him. The wish to place a French prince on the Spanish throne—either himself, thereby uniting both crowns, or another member of his family, thus elevating the House of Bourbon on both sides of the Pyrenees—was the misleading ambition that misled Louis for the rest of his reign, leading to the ultimate decline of France's naval power and the suffering and poverty of his people. Louis did not realize that he had to consider all of Europe. His direct ambition for the Spanish throne had to wait for an opening, but he immediately prepared to act against the Spanish territories to the east of France.
In order to do this more effectually, he cut off from Spain every possible ally by skilful diplomatic intrigues, the study of which would give a useful illustration of strategy in the realm of politics, but he made two serious mistakes to the injury of the sea power of France. Portugal had until twenty years before been united to the crown of Spain, and the claim to it had not been surrendered. Louis considered that were Spain to regain that kingdom she would be too strong for him easily to carry out his aims. Among other means of prevention he promoted a marriage between Charles II. and the Infanta of Portugal, in consequence of which Portugal ceded to England, Bombay in India, and Tangiers in the Straits of Gibraltar, which was reputed an excellent port. We see here a French king, in his eagerness for extension by land, inviting England to the Mediterranean, and forwarding her alliance with Portugal. The latter was the more curious, as Louis already foresaw the failure of the Spanish royal house, and should rather have wished the union of the [105]peninsular kingdoms. As a matter of fact, Portugal became a dependent and outpost of England, by which she readily landed in the Peninsula down to the days of Napoleon. Indeed, if independent of Spain, she is too weak not to be under the control of the power that rules the sea and so has readiest access to her. Louis continued to support her against Spain, and secured her independence. He also interfered with the Dutch, and compelled them to restore Brazil, which they had taken from the Portuguese.
To do this more effectively, he cut off every possible ally of Spain through clever diplomatic maneuvers, the study of which would serve as a valuable example of political strategy. However, he made two serious mistakes that harmed France's naval power. Until twenty years prior, Portugal had been united with the Spanish crown, and the claim to it had not been given up. Louis believed that if Spain regained that kingdom, she would be too powerful for him to easily achieve his goals. As a preventive measure, he arranged a marriage between Charles II and the Infanta of Portugal. As a result, Portugal ceded Bombay in India and Tangiers in the Straits of Gibraltar to England, the latter being known as an excellent port. Here we see a French king, eager for territorial expansion, inviting England into the Mediterranean and strengthening her alliance with Portugal. This was particularly curious because Louis already anticipated the decline of the Spanish royal house and should have preferred the union of the peninsular kingdoms. In reality, Portugal became a dependent outpost of England, allowing her to easily reestablish herself in the Peninsula even up to the days of Napoleon. Indeed, if Portugal was independent of Spain, it was too weak to avoid being controlled by the power that dominated the seas and had the most direct access to her. Louis continued to support Portugal against Spain, ensuring her independence. He also intervened with the Dutch and forced them to return Brazil, which they had taken from the Portuguese.
On the other hand, Louis obtained from Charles II. the cession of Dunkirk on the Channel, which had been seized and used by Cromwell. This surrender was made for money, and was inexcusable from the maritime point of view. Dunkirk was for the English a bridge-head into France. To France it became a haven for privateers, the bane of England's commerce in the Channel and the North Sea. As the French sea power waned, England in treaty after treaty exacted the dismantling of the works of Dunkirk, which it may be said in passing was the home port of the celebrated Jean Bart and other great French privateersmen.
On the other hand, Louis got Charles II to give up Dunkirk on the Channel, which had been taken and used by Cromwell. This surrender was made for money and was unjustifiable from a maritime perspective. For the English, Dunkirk was a key entry point into France. For France, it became a base for privateers, which were a major threat to England's trade in the Channel and the North Sea. As French naval power declined, England, in treaty after treaty, insisted on dismantling Dunkirk's fortifications, which was, by the way, the home port of the famous Jean Bart and other prominent French privateers.
Meanwhile the greatest and wisest of Louis' ministers, Colbert, was diligently building up that system of administration, which, by increasing and solidly basing the wealth of the State, should bring a surer greatness and prosperity than the king's more showy enterprises. With those details that concern the internal development of the kingdom this history has no concern, beyond the incidental mention that production, both agricultural and manufacturing, received his careful attention; but upon the sea a policy of skilful aggression upon the shipping and commerce of the Dutch and English quickly began, and was instantly resented. Great trading companies were formed, directing French enterprise to the Baltic, to the Levant, to the East and West Indies; customs regulations were amended to encourage French manufactures, and to allow goods to be stored in bond in the great ports, by which means it was hoped to make France take Holland's place as the great warehouse for Europe, a function for [106]which her geographical position eminently fitted her; while tonnage duties on foreign shipping, direct premiums on home-built ships, and careful, rigorous colonial decrees giving French vessels the monopoly of trade to and from the colonies, combined to encourage the growth of her mercantile marine. England retaliated at once; the Dutch, more seriously threatened because their carrying-trade was greater and their home resources smaller, only remonstrated for a time; but after three years they also made reprisals. Colbert, relying on the great superiority of France as an actual, and still more as a possible producer, feared not to move steadily on the grasping path marked out; which, in building up a great merchant shipping, would lay the broad base for the military shipping, which was being yet more rapidly forced on by the measures of the State. Prosperity grew apace. At the end of twelve years everything was flourishing, everything rich in the State, which was in utter confusion when he took charge of the finances and marine.
Meanwhile, the greatest and smartest of Louis' ministers, Colbert, was busy creating a system of administration that would build up and firmly establish the state's wealth, bringing about a more solid greatness and prosperity than the king's flashier projects. This history doesn’t focus on the internal development of the kingdom, except to note that both agricultural and manufacturing production received his careful attention. However, on the sea, a strategy of aggressive moves against the shipping and commerce of the Dutch and English quickly began and was met with immediate backlash. Major trading companies were set up, directing French ventures to the Baltic, the Levant, and the East and West Indies. Customs regulations were revised to promote French-made goods, allowing products to be stored in bond at major ports. The aim was to secure France's position as Europe's primary warehouse, a role her geographical location was perfectly suited for; meanwhile, tonnage duties on foreign ships, direct incentives for domestically built vessels, and strict colonial laws granting French ships a monopoly on trade with the colonies all worked together to boost the growth of her merchant fleet. England responded right away; the Dutch, facing a more significant threat due to their larger shipping trade and fewer domestic resources, only protested for a while; but after three years, they also struck back. Colbert, confident in France’s considerable current and potential production ability, was unafraid to stick to the ambitious path he had chosen, which, by building a large merchant fleet, would lay a solid foundation for a military fleet that was being rapidly developed by state policies. Prosperity surged. After twelve years, everything was thriving, and the state's finances and navy were flourishing, a stark contrast to the chaos he inherited.
"Under him," says a French historian, "France grew by peace as she had grown by war.... The warfare of tariffs and premiums skilfully conducted by him tended to reduce within just limits the exorbitant growth of commercial and maritime power which Holland had arrogated at the expense of other nations; and to restrain England, which was burning to wrest this supremacy from Holland in order to use it in a manner much more dangerous to Europe. The interest of France seemed to be peace in Europe and America; a mysterious voice, at once the voice of the past and of the future, called for her warlike activity on other shores."[19]
"Under his leadership," says a French historian, "France expanded through peace just as she had through war.... His skillful management of tariffs and incentives helped to limit the excessive growth of commercial and maritime power that Holland had claimed at the expense of other nations; it also worked to keep England in check, who was eager to take this dominance from Holland in a way that could be far more dangerous to Europe. France's interests seemed to lie in maintaining peace in Europe and America; a mysterious voice, one that echoed the past and anticipated the future, called for her military engagement in other territories."[19]
This voice found expression through the mouth of Leibnitz, one of the world's great men, who pointed out to Louis that to turn the arms of France against Egypt would give her, in the dominion of the Mediterranean and the control of Eastern trade, a victory over Holland greater than the most successful campaign on land; and while insuring a much needed peace within his kingdom, would build up a power on the sea that would insure preponderance in Europe. This memorial [107]called Louis from the pursuit of glory on the land to seek the durable grandeur of France in the possession of a great sea power, the elements of which, thanks to the genius of Colbert, he had in his hands. A century later a greater man than Louis sought to exalt himself and France by the path pointed out by Leibnitz; but Napoleon did not have, as Louis had, a navy equal to the task proposed. This project of Leibnitz will be more fully referred to when the narrative reaches the momentous date at which it was broached; when Louis, with his kingdom and navy in the highest pitch of efficiency, stood at the point where the roads parted, and then took the one which settled that France should not be the power of the sea. This decision, which killed Colbert and ruined the prosperity of France, was felt in its consequences from generation to generation afterward, as the great navy of England, in war after war, swept the seas, insured the growing wealth of the island kingdom through exhausting strifes, while drying up the external resources of French trade and inflicting consequent misery. The false line of policy that began with Louis XIV. also turned France away from a promising career in India, in the days of his successor.
This idea was expressed through the words of Leibnitz, one of the world's great thinkers, who advised Louis that sending France's military to Egypt would grant her control over the Mediterranean and Eastern trade, achieving a victory over Holland greater than any land campaign; and while ensuring much-needed peace within his kingdom, it would establish a naval power that would dominate Europe. This message [107] urged Louis to shift his focus from seeking glory on land to pursuing the lasting greatness of France through a strong navy, the elements of which, thanks to Colbert's genius, were at his disposal. A century later, a greater man than Louis aimed to elevate himself and France by following Leibnitz's path; however, Napoleon lacked the navy that Louis had for the task. This project by Leibnitz will be discussed in more detail when the story reaches the significant date when it was proposed; when Louis, with his kingdom and navy operating at peak efficiency, reached a crossroads and chose the path that determined France would not become a maritime power. This decision, which led to Colbert's downfall and devastated France's prosperity, had lasting consequences for generations, as England's powerful navy dominated the seas in war after war, ensuring the growing wealth of the island nation while draining the external resources of French trade and causing widespread suffering. The misguided policy that began with Louis XIV also steered France away from a promising future in India during the reign of his successor.
Meanwhile the two maritime States, England and Holland, though eying France distrustfully, had greater and growing grudges against each other, which under the fostering care of Charles II. led to war. The true cause was doubtless commercial jealousy, and the conflict sprang immediately from collisions between the trading companies. Hostilities began on the west coast of Africa; and an English squadron, in 1664, after subduing several Dutch stations there, sailed to New Amsterdam (now New York), and seized it. All these affairs took place before the formal declaration of war in February, 1665. This war was undoubtedly popular in England; the instinct of the people found an expression by the lips of Monk, who is reported to have said, "What matters this or that reason? What we want is more of the trade which the Dutch now have." There is also little room to doubt that, despite the pretensions of the trading companies, the government of [108]the United Provinces would gladly have avoided the war; the able man who was at their head saw too clearly the delicate position in which they stood between England and France. They claimed, however, the support of the latter in virtue of a defensive treaty made in 1662. Louis allowed the claim, but unwillingly; and the still young navy of France gave practically no help.
Meanwhile, the two maritime nations, England and Holland, while keeping a wary eye on France, had deeper and growing grudges against each other, which with the encouragement of Charles II. led to war. The real issue was clearly commercial rivalry, and the conflict directly arose from clashes between the trading companies. Hostilities began on the west coast of Africa; in 1664, an English squadron, after defeating several Dutch outposts there, sailed to New Amsterdam (now New York) and took control. All these events occurred before the formal declaration of war in February 1665. This war was definitely popular in England; the public sentiment was expressed by Monk, who reportedly said, “What does it matter what the reason is? What we want is more of the trade that the Dutch currently have.” There’s also little doubt that, despite the claims of the trading companies, the government of [108]the United Provinces would have preferred to avoid the war; the capable leader at their helm understood too well the precarious situation they were in between England and France. However, they sought the support of the latter based on a defensive treaty made in 1662. Louis accepted the claim reluctantly, and the still fledgling French navy provided virtually no assistance.
The war between the two sea States was wholly maritime, and had the general characteristics of all such wars. Three great battles were fought,—the first off Lowestoft, on the Norfolk coast, June 13, 1665; the second, known as the Four Days' Battle in the Straits of Dover, often spoken of by French writers as that of the Pas de Calais, lasting from the 11th to the 14th of June, 1666; and the third, off the North Foreland, August 4 of the same year. In the first and last of these the English had a decided success; in the second the advantage remained with the Dutch. This one only will be described at length, because of it alone has been found such a full, coherent account as will allow a clear and accurate tactical narrative to be given. There are in these fights points of interest more generally applicable to the present day than are the details of somewhat obsolete tactical movements.
The war between the two maritime states was entirely naval and had the typical features of such conflicts. Three major battles were fought: the first off Lowestoft on the Norfolk coast on June 13, 1665; the second, known as the Four Days' Battle in the Straits of Dover—often referred to by French writers as the Pas de Calais—from June 11 to June 14, 1666; and the third, off the North Foreland on August 4 of the same year. In the first and last battles, the English achieved clear victories, while in the second, the Dutch held the advantage. This second battle will be described in detail because only it has a comprehensive account that allows for a clear and accurate tactical narrative. In these encounters, the points of interest are more relevant to today than the specifics of somewhat outdated tactical maneuvers.
In the first battle off Lowestoft, it appears that the Dutch commander, Opdam, who was not a seaman but a cavalry officer, had very positive orders to fight; the discretion proper to a commander-in-chief on the spot was not intrusted to him. To interfere thus with the commander in the field or afloat is one of the most common temptations to the government in the cabinet, and is generally disastrous. Tourville, the greatest of Louis XIV.'s admirals, was forced thus to risk the whole French navy against his own judgment; and a century later a great French fleet escaped from the English admiral Keith, through his obedience to imperative orders from his immediate superior, who was sick in port.
In the first battle off Lowestoft, it seems that the Dutch commander, Opdam, who wasn't a naval officer but a cavalry officer, had very clear orders to engage in battle; the discretion that should be given to a commander-in-chief on-site was not granted to him. Interfering with the commander either in the field or at sea is one of the most common pitfalls for the government in the cabinet, and it usually ends badly. Tourville, the best of Louis XIV's admirals, was forced to risk the entire French navy against his better judgment; and a century later, a large French fleet managed to get away from the English admiral Keith due to his obedience to strict orders from his immediate superior, who was ill in port.
In the Lowestoft fight the Dutch van gave way; and a little later one of the junior admirals of the centre, Opdam's own squadron, being killed, the crew was seized with a panic, [109]took the command of the ship from her officers, and carried her out of action. This movement was followed by twelve or thirteen other ships, leaving a great gap in the Dutch line. The occurrence shows, what has before been pointed out, that the discipline of the Dutch fleet and the tone of the officers were not high, despite the fine fighting qualities of the nation, and although it is probably true that there were more good seamen among the Dutch than among the English captains. The natural steadfastness and heroism of the Hollanders could not wholly supply that professional pride and sense of military honor which it is the object of sound military institutions to encourage. Popular feeling in the United States is pretty much at sea in this matter; there is with it no intermediate step between personal courage with a gun in its hand and entire military efficiency.
In the Lowestoft battle, the Dutch vanguard faltered; soon after, one of the junior admirals from the center, part of Opdam's own squadron, was killed, causing the crew to panic, [109]taking control of the ship from the officers and withdrawing from the fight. This led twelve or thirteen other ships to follow suit, creating a significant gap in the Dutch line. This incident highlights, as previously noted, that the discipline within the Dutch fleet and the morale of the officers were lacking, despite the nation’s strong fighting spirit, and while it’s likely that the Dutch had more skilled sailors than the English captains. The inherent determination and bravery of the Dutch could not fully compensate for the professional pride and sense of military honor that effective military systems strive to cultivate. Public sentiment in the United States is quite confused on this issue; there’s no middle ground between personal bravery with a weapon in hand and complete military effectiveness.
Opdam, seeing the battle going against him, seems to have yielded to a feeling approaching despair. He sought to grapple the English commander-in-chief, who on this day was the Duke of York, the king's brother. He failed in this, and in the desperate struggle which followed, his ship blew up. Shortly after, three, or as one account says four, Dutch ships ran foul of one another, and this group was burned by one fire-ship; three or four others singly met the same fate a little later. The Dutch fleet was now in disorder, and retreated under cover of the squadron of Van Tromp, son of the famous old admiral who in the days of the Commonwealth sailed through the Channel with a broom at his masthead.
Opdam, seeing that the battle was not going his way, seemed to succumb to a feeling of despair. He tried to engage the English commander-in-chief, who that day was the Duke of York, the king's brother. He failed at this, and during the desperate struggle that followed, his ship blew up. Shortly after, three, or as one account says, four Dutch ships collided with each other, and they were set ablaze by a fire ship; three or four others met the same fate shortly after. The Dutch fleet was now in disarray and retreated under the protection of Van Tromp's squadron, the son of the famous old admiral who, during the days of the Commonwealth, sailed through the Channel with a broom at his masthead.
Fire-ships are seen here to have played a very conspicuous part, more so certainly than in the war of 1653, though at both periods they formed an appendage to the fleet. There is on the surface an evident resemblance between the rôle of the fire-ship and the part assigned in modern warfare to the torpedo-cruiser. The terrible character of the attack, the comparative smallness of the vessel making it, and the large demands upon the nerve of the assailant, are the chief points of resemblance; the great points of difference are the comparative certainty with which the modern vessel can be [110]handled, which is partly met by the same advantage in the iron-clad over the old ship-of-the-line, and the instantaneousness of the injury by torpedo, whose attack fails or succeeds at once, whereas that of the fire-ship required time for effecting the object, which in both cases is total destruction of the hostile ship, instead of crippling or otherwise reducing it. An appreciation of the character of fire-ships, of the circumstances under which they attained their greatest usefulness, and of the causes which led to their disappearance, may perhaps help in the decision to which nations must come as to whether the torpedo-cruiser, pure and simple, is a type of weapon destined to survive in fleets.
Fire-ships are seen here to have played a very significant role, even more so than in the war of 1653, although during both times they were a part of the fleet. There is a clear similarity between the role of the fire-ship and the function attributed to the torpedo-cruiser in modern warfare. The shocking nature of the attack, the relatively small size of the vessel making it, and the high demands on the attacker’s nerve are the main similarities; the major differences lie in the greater control with which the modern vessel can be [110] maneuvered, which is somewhat offset by the same advantage the iron-clad has over the older ship-of-the-line, and the immediacy of the damage from a torpedo, where the attack either fails or succeeds instantly, whereas a fire-ship's attack required time to achieve its goal, which in both cases is the total destruction of the enemy ship, rather than just crippling or otherwise weakening it. Understanding the nature of fire-ships, the conditions under which they were most effective, and the reasons that led to their decline may help in deciding whether the torpedo-cruiser, in its simplest form, is a type of weapon that will continue to exist in naval fleets.
A French officer, who has been examining the records of the French navy, states that the fire-ship first appears, incorporated as an arm of the fleet, in 1636.
A French officer, who has been looking over the records of the French navy, notes that the fire ship first shows up, included as part of the fleet, in 1636.
"Whether specially built for the purpose, or whether altered from other purposes to be fitted for their particular end, they received a special equipment. The command was given to officers not noble, with the grade of captain of fire-ship. Five subordinate officers and twenty-five seamen made up the crew. Easily known by grappling-irons which were always fitted to their yards, the fire-ship saw its rôle growing less in the early years of the eighteenth century. It was finally to disappear from the fleets whose speed it delayed and whose evolutions were by it complicated. As the ships-of-war grew larger, their action in concert with fire-ships became daily more difficult. On the other hand, there had already been abandoned the idea of combining them with the fighting-ships to form a few groups, each provided with all the means of attack and defence. The formation of the close-hauled line-of-battle, by assigning the fire-ships a place in a second line placed half a league on the side farthest from the enemy, made them more and more unfitted to fulfil their office. The official plan of the battle of Malaga (1704), drawn up immediately after the battle, shows the fire-ship in this position as laid down by Paul Hoste. Finally the use of shells, enabling ships to be set on fire more surely and quickly, and introduced on board at the period of which we are now treating, though the general use did not obtain until much later, was the last blow to the fire-ship."[20]
"Whether built specifically for the purpose or modified from other uses to serve their unique function, they were equipped accordingly. The command was given to officers of non-noble rank, specifically those holding the title of fire-ship captain. The crew consisted of five subordinate officers and twenty-five sailors. Easily recognized by the grappling irons always attached to their yards, the role of the fire-ship diminished in the early years of the eighteenth century. It ultimately disappeared from fleets that it slowed down and complicated their maneuvers. As warships became larger, coordinating their actions with fire-ships became increasingly challenging. Additionally, the idea of combining them with the fighting ships to form a few groups, each with all necessary means of attack and defense, had already been discarded. The formation of the close-hauled line of battle, which placed the fire-ships in a second line half a league away from the enemy, made them even less suitable for their intended purpose. The official battle plan for the Battle of Malaga (1704), created immediately after the battle, shows the fire-ship positioned this way as outlined by Paul Hoste. Finally, the introduction of shells that enabled ships to be set on fire more reliably and quickly during this period, although widespread use came later, dealt the final blow to the fire-ship." [20]
[111]Those who are familiar with the theories and discussions of our own day on the subject of fleet tactics and weapons, will recognize in this short notice of a long obsolete type certain ideas which are not obsolete. The fire-ship disappeared from fleets "whose speed it delayed." In heavy weather small bulk must always mean comparatively small speed. In a moderate sea, we are now told, the speed of the torpedo-boat falls from twenty knots to fifteen or less, and the seventeen to nineteen knot cruiser can either run away from the pursuing boats, or else hold them at a distance under fire of machine and heavy guns. These boats are sea-going, "and it is thought can keep the sea in all weathers; but to be on board a 110-foot torpedo-boat, when the sea is lively, is said to be far from agreeable. The heat, noise, and rapid vibrations of the engines are intense. Cooking seems to be out of the question, and it is said that if food were well cooked few would be able to appreciate it. To obtain necessary rest under these conditions, added to the rapid motions of the boat, is most difficult." Larger boats are to be built; but the factor of loss of speed in rough weather will remain, unless the size of the torpedo-cruiser is increased to a point that will certainly lead to fitting them with something more than torpedoes. Like fire-ships, small torpedo-cruisers will delay the speed and complicate the evolutions of the fleet with which they are associated.[21] The disappearance of the fire-ship was also hastened, we are told, by the introduction of shell firing, or incendiary projectiles; and it is not improbable that for deep-sea fighting the transfer of the torpedo to a class of larger ships will put an end to the mere torpedo-cruiser. The fire-ship continued to be used against fleets at anchor down to the days of the American Civil War; and the torpedo-boat will always be useful within an easy distance of its port.
[111]Those who are familiar with today's theories and discussions about fleet tactics and weapons will see in this brief mention of a long-outdated type some ideas that are still relevant. The fire-ship vanished from fleets "whose speed it delayed." In rough weather, a small size means a relatively low speed. In moderate seas, we now know that the speed of a torpedo boat drops from twenty knots to fifteen or less, and a cruiser that goes at seventeen to nineteen knots can either escape from pursuing boats or keep them at bay under fire from machine and heavy guns. These boats are designed for sea travel, "and it is believed they can handle all weather; but being on a 110-foot torpedo boat when the sea gets rough is said to be far from pleasant. The heat, noise, and rapid vibrations of the engines are overwhelming. Cooking seems impossible, and it’s said that if the food were well cooked, few would be able to enjoy it. Getting enough rest under these conditions, in addition to the boat’s quick movements, is very challenging." Larger boats are planned; however, the issue of losing speed in rough weather will persist unless the size of the torpedo cruiser is increased to a level that will definitely require equipping them with more than just torpedoes. Like fire-ships, small torpedo cruisers will slow down the fleet's speed and complicate its maneuvers.[21] The disappearance of the fire-ship was also accelerated, we are told, by the introduction of shell firing or incendiary projectiles; and it’s likely that for deep-sea battles, shifting the torpedo to larger ships will eliminate the need for simple torpedo cruisers. The fire-ship continued to be used against fleets at anchor up until the American Civil War; and the torpedo boat will always be handy within a short distance of its port.
A third phase of naval practice two hundred years ago, mentioned in the extract quoted, involves an idea very familiar [112]to modern discussions; namely, the group formation. "The idea of combining fire-ships with the fighting-ships to form a few groups, each provided with all the means of attack and defence," was for a time embraced; for we are told that it was later on abandoned. The combining of the ships of a fleet into groups of two, three, or four meant to act specially together is now largely favored in England; less so in France, where it meets strong opposition. No question of this sort, ably advocated on either side, is to be settled by one man's judgment, nor until time and experience have applied their infallible tests. It may be remarked, however, that in a well-organized fleet there are two degrees of command which are in themselves both natural and necessary, that can be neither done away nor ignored; these are the command of the whole fleet as one unit, and the command of each ship as a unit in itself. When a fleet becomes too large to be handled by one man, it must be subdivided, and in the heat of action become practically two fleets acting to one common end; as Nelson, in his noble order at Trafalgar, said, "The second in command will, after my intentions are made known to him" (mark the force of the "after," which so well protects the functions both of the commander-in-chief and the second), "have the entire direction of his line, to make the attack upon the enemy, and to follow up the blow until they are captured or destroyed."
A third phase of naval practice from two hundred years ago, referenced in the quoted extract, deals with a concept that is quite familiar [112] in today's discussions: group formation. "The idea of combining fire-ships with fighting ships to create a few groups, each equipped with all the means of attack and defense," was adopted for a time, but it was later abandoned. Nowadays, the practice of organizing ships within a fleet into groups of two, three, or four to act together is widely supported in England, but less so in France, where it faces strong opposition. Issues like this, debated well on both sides, cannot be resolved by one person's judgment, nor until time and experience have applied their undeniable tests. However, it's worth noting that in a well-structured fleet, there are two levels of command that are both natural and necessary, which cannot be disregarded or eliminated; these are the command of the entire fleet as a unified entity, and the command of each ship as a unit on its own. When a fleet becomes too large for one person to manage, it must be divided and, during action, effectively become two fleets working towards a common goal. As Nelson stated in his famous order at Trafalgar, "The second in command will, after my intentions are made known to him" (notice the emphasis on "after," which clearly safeguards the roles of both the commander-in-chief and the second in command), "have the full direction of his line, to launch the attack on the enemy, and to follow through until they are captured or destroyed."
The size and cost of the individual iron-clad of the present day makes it unlikely that fleets will be so numerous as to require subdivision; but whether they are or not does not affect the decision of the group question. Looking simply to the principle underlying the theory, and disregarding the seeming tactical clumsiness of the special groups proposed, the question is: Shall there be introduced between the natural commands of the admiral and of the captains of individual ships a third artificial contrivance, which on the one hand will in effect partly supersede the supreme authority, and on the other will partly fetter the discretion of commanders of ships? A further difficulty springing from the [113]narrow principle of support specially due to particular ships, on which the group system rests, is this: that when signals can no longer be seen, the duty of the captain to his own ship and to the fleet at large will be complicated by his duty to observe certain relations to particular ships; which particular ships must in time come to have undue prominence in his views. The group formation had its day of trial in old times, and disappeared before the test of experience; whether in its restored form it will survive, time will show. It may be said, before quitting the subject, that as an order of sailing, corresponding to the route-step of an army in march, a loose group formation has some advantages; maintaining some order without requiring that rigid exactness of position, to observe which by day and night must be a severe strain on captain and deck-officers. Such a route-order should not, however, be permitted until a fleet has reached high tactical precision.
The size and cost of today's individual ironclads make it unlikely that fleets will be numerous enough to need subdivision. However, whether they are or not doesn't change the group's effectiveness. Looking solely at the underlying principle and ignoring the apparent tactical awkwardness of the proposed groups, the question is: Should we introduce a third artificial mechanism between the admiral's natural command and that of individual ship captains? This mechanism would, on one hand, partially replace the supreme authority and, on the other hand, limit the captains' discretion. Another issue arising from the narrow principle of support specific to certain ships, which the group system is based on, is that when signals are no longer visible, the captain's duty to his own ship and the overall fleet becomes complicated by his obligation to maintain certain relationships with specific ships, which may come to dominate his perspective. The group formation was tested in the past and fell short under real-world experience; whether it will succeed in its revised form remains to be seen. One might argue, before we finish this topic, that a loose group formation has certain advantages as a sailing order, similar to the route-step of an army in march, as it maintains some order without demanding the rigid positioning that can be a significant strain on captains and deck officers both day and night. However, such a route order should only be allowed once a fleet achieves a high level of tactical precision.
To return to the question of fire-ships and torpedo-boats, the rôle of the latter, it is often said, is to be found in that mêlée which is always to succeed a couple of headlong passes between the opposing fleets. In the smoke and confusion of that hour is the opportunity of the torpedo-boat. This certainly sounds plausible, and the torpedo vessel certainly has a power of movement not possessed by the fire-ship. A mêlée of the two fleets, however, was not the condition most favorable for the fire-ship. I shall quote here from another French officer, whose discussion of these Anglo-Dutch sea-fights, in a late periodical, is singularly clear and suggestive. He says:
To go back to the topic of fire-ships and torpedo boats, it's often said that the role of the latter is found in the chaos that always follows a few reckless attacks between the opposing fleets. In the smoke and confusion of that moment lies the opportunity for the torpedo boat. This definitely sounds reasonable, and the torpedo vessel has a level of mobility that the fire-ship lacks. However, a clash of the two fleets was not the most favorable situation for the fire-ship. I’ll quote another French officer, whose discussion of these Anglo-Dutch naval battles in a recent publication is particularly clear and thought-provoking. He says:
"Far from impeding the direct action of the fire-ship, which was naught or nearly so during the confused battles of the war of 1652, the regularity and ensemble newly attained in the movements of squadrons seem rather to favor it. The fire-ships played a very important part at the battles of Lowestoft, Pas de Calais, and the North Foreland. Thanks to the good order preserved by the ships-of-the-line, these incendiary ships can indeed be better protected by the artillery; much more efficiently directed than before toward a distinct and determined end."[22]
"Instead of hindering the direct action of the fire-ship, which was minimal during the chaotic battles of the war of 1652, the newfound regularity and coordination in squadron movements actually seemed to support it. The fire-ships played a crucial role in the battles of Lowestoft, Pas de Calais, and the North Foreland. Thanks to the order maintained by the ships-of-the-line, these incendiary ships could indeed be better shielded by the artillery, which was now much more effectively aimed at a specific and determined target."[22]
[114]In the midst of the confused mêlées of 1652 the fire-ship "acted, so to speak, alone, seeking by chance an enemy to grapple, running the risk of a mistake, without protection against the guns of the enemy, nearly sure to be sunk by him or else burned uselessly. All now, in 1665, has become different. Its prey is clearly pointed out; it knows it, follows it easily into the relatively fixed position had by it in the enemy's line. On the other hand, the ships of his own division do not lose sight of the fire-ship. They accompany it as far as possible, cover it with their artillery to the end of its course, and disengage it before burning, if the fruitlessness of the attempt is seen soon enough. Evidently under such conditions its action, always uncertain (it cannot be otherwise), nevertheless acquires greater chances of success." These instructive comments need perhaps the qualifying, or additional, remark that confusion in the enemy's order at the time that your own remains good gives the best opening for a desperate attack. The writer goes on to trace the disappearance of the fire-ship:—
[114]In the midst of the chaotic battles of 1652, the fire-ship operated almost on its own, randomly searching for an enemy to engage, risking mistakes, and lacking protection against enemy fire, making it likely to be either sunk or rendered useless. Everything has changed by 1665. Its target is clearly identified; it knows what to pursue and easily follows it into the relatively stable position in the enemy's formation. Meanwhile, the ships in its own division keep the fire-ship in sight. They support it as much as possible, cover it with their guns throughout its course, and withdraw their support if it becomes clear that the attempt is futile. Clearly, under these conditions, while its actions remain unpredictable (which is inevitable), it has better chances of achieving success." These insightful comments may require the added note that confusion in the enemy's formation while your own remains intact provides the best opportunity for a bold attack. The writer continues to discuss the eventual disappearance of the fire-ship:—
"Here then we see the fire-ship at the point of its highest importance. That importance will decrease, the fire-ship itself will end by disappearing from engagements in the open sea, when naval artillery becoming more perfect shall have greater range, be more accurate and more rapid;[23] when ships receiving better forms, greater steering power, more extensive and better balanced sail power, shall be able, thanks to quicker speed and handling, to avoid almost certainly the fire-ships sent against them; when, finally, fleets led on principles of tactics as skilful as they were timid, a tactics which will predominate a century later during the whole war of American Independence, when these fleets, in order not to jeopardize the perfect regularity of their order of battle, will avoid coming to close quarters, and will leave to the cannon alone to decide the fate of an action."
"Here we see the fire-ship at its peak importance. However, that importance will decline, and the fire-ship will eventually vanish from battles in the open sea, as naval artillery becomes more advanced, with greater range, accuracy, and speed;[23] as ships are designed better, with improved steering, larger and more balanced sails, allowing them to avoid the fire-ships targeting them thanks to increased speed and maneuverability; and finally, as fleets, following tactical principles that are as skillful as they are cautious—principles that will dominate a century later throughout the entire American War of Independence—avoid close encounters to maintain the perfect organization of their battle lines, relying solely on cannon fire to determine the outcome of an engagement."
In this discussion the writer has in view the leading feature which, while aiding the action of the fire-ship, also gives this [115]war of 1665 its peculiar interest in the history of naval tactics. In it is found for the first time the close-hauled line-of-battle undeniably adopted as the fighting order of the fleets. It is plain enough that when those fleets numbered, as they often did, from eighty to a hundred ships, such lines would be very imperfectly formed in every essential, both of line and interval; but the general aim is evident, amid whatever imperfections of execution. The credit for this development is generally given to the Duke of York, afterward James II.; but the question to whom the improvement is due is of little importance to sea-officers of the present day when compared with the instructive fact that so long a time elapsed between the appearance of the large sailing-ship, with its broadside battery, and the systematic adoption of the order which was best adapted to develop the full power of the fleet for mutual support. To us, having the elements of the problem in our hands, together with the result finally reached, that result seems simple enough, almost self-evident. Why did it take so long for the capable men of that day to reach it? The reason—and herein lies the lesson for the officer of to-day—was doubtless the same that leaves the order of battle so uncertain now; namely, that the necessity of war did not force men to make up their minds, until the Dutch at last met in the English their equals on the sea. The sequence of ideas which resulted in the line-of-battle is clear and logical. Though familiar enough to seamen, it will be here stated in the words of the writer last quoted, because they have a neatness and precision entirely French:—
In this discussion, the author focuses on the main aspect that, while supporting the actions of the fire-ship, also adds a unique interest to this [115] war of 1665 in the context of naval tactics. It marks the first clear adoption of a close-hauled line of battle as the fighting formation for fleets. It's clear that when these fleets often included eighty to a hundred ships, those lines would be poorly arranged in various critical ways, both in alignment and spacing; however, the overarching goal is clear, despite the execution's flaws. This development is typically credited to the Duke of York, who later became James II.; yet, to modern naval officers, the individual responsible for this improvement is less significant than the enlightening fact that such a long time passed between the emergence of large sailing ships with broadside batteries and the systematic use of a battle order that best utilized fleet power for mutual support. For us, with all the elements of the issue in hand and knowing the final outcome, it seems straightforward, almost obvious. Why did it take those skilled individuals so long to arrive at this conclusion? The answer—and this holds a lesson for today’s officers—was likely the same uncertainty in battle order that we see now; specifically, the urgency of warfare didn’t compel people to make firm decisions until the Dutch finally found an equal in the English at sea. The chain of thought that led to the line of battle is clear and logical. Although well-known among sailors, it will be expressed here using the words of the last quoted writer, as they have a neatness and precision that is distinctly French:—
"With the increase of power of the ship-of-war, and with the perfecting of its sea and warlike qualities, there has come an equal progress in the art of utilizing them.... As naval evolutions become more skilful, their importance grows from day to day. To these evolutions there is needed a base, a point from which they depart and to which they return. A fleet of war-ships must be always ready to meet an enemy; logically, therefore, this point of departure for naval evolutions must be the order of battle. Now, since the disappearance of galleys, almost all the artillery is found upon the [116]sides of a ship of war. Hence it is the beam that must necessarily and always be turned toward the enemy. On the other hand, it is necessary that the sight of the latter must never be interrupted by a friendly ship. Only one formation allows the ships of the same fleet to satisfy fully these conditions. That formation is the line ahead [column]. This line, therefore, is imposed as the only order of battle, and consequently as the basis of all fleet tactics. In order that this order of battle, this long thin line of guns, may not be injured or broken at some point weaker than the rest, there is at the same time felt the necessity of putting in it only ships which, if not of equal force, have at least equally strong sides. Logically it follows, at the same moment in which the line ahead became definitively the order for battle, there was established the distinction between the ships 'of the line,' alone destined for a place therein, and the lighter ships meant for other uses."
"With the increasing power of warships and the improvement of their sea and combat capabilities, there has also been significant progress in how to effectively use them. As naval maneuvers become more skilled, their importance grows daily. For these maneuvers, a base is needed—a point from which they start and to which they return. A fleet of warships must always be ready to confront an enemy; logically, this point of departure for naval movements must be the battle order. Now, since the galleys have disappeared, almost all the artillery is situated on the sides of a warship. Therefore, the beam must consistently face the enemy. Additionally, it's essential that the enemy's view is never obstructed by a friendly ship. Only one formation allows the ships of the same fleet to meet these requirements fully. That formation is the line ahead. Thus, this line becomes the sole order of battle, forming the foundation of all fleet tactics. To ensure that this order of battle—a long, thin line of guns—remains intact and isn't compromised at a weaker point, it is necessary to include only ships that are, if not equally powerful, at least have similarly strong sides. Consequently, with the line ahead becoming the definitive battle order, a distinction was established between 'ships of the line,' intended exclusively for that formation, and lighter ships designated for other functions."
If to these we add the considerations which led to making the line-of-battle a close-hauled line, we have the problem fully worked out. But the chain of reasoning was as clear two hundred and fifty years ago as it is now; why then was it so long in being worked out? Partly, no doubt, because old traditions—in those days traditions of galley-fighting—had hold of and confused men's minds; chiefly because men are too indolent to seek out the foundation truths of the situation in their day, and develop the true theory of action from its base up. As a rare instance of clear-sightedness, recognizing such a fundamental change in conditions and predicting results, words of Admiral Labrousse of the French navy, written in 1840, are most instructive. "Thanks to steam," he wrote, "ships will be able to move in any direction with such speed that the effects of collision may, and indeed must, as they formerly did, take the place of projectile weapons and annul the calculations of the skilful manœuvrer. The ram will be favorable to speed, without destroying the nautical qualities of a ship. As soon as one power shall have adopted this terrible weapon, all others must accept it, under pain of evident inferiority, and thus combats will become combats of ram against ram." While forbearing the unconditional adhesion to the ram as [117]the controlling weapon of the day, which the French navy has yielded, the above brief argument may well be taken as an instance of the way in which researches into the order of battle of the future should be worked out. A French writer, commenting on Labrousse's paper, says:—
If we add the factors that led to making the line of battle a close-hauled line, we have the issue completely figured out. But the logic was as clear two hundred and fifty years ago as it is now; so why did it take so long to be figured out? Partly, it's because outdated traditions—in those times, traditions from galley warfare—confused people's minds. Mostly, it's because people are too lazy to identify the foundational truths of their time and build a proper theory of action from the ground up. A rare example of clear insight, recognizing such a fundamental change in conditions and predicting outcomes, comes from Admiral Labrousse of the French navy, who wrote in 1840. "Thanks to steam," he said, "ships will be able to move in any direction with such speed that the consequences of collision may, and indeed must, replace projectile weapons and undermine the calculations of skilled maneuvering. The ram will favor speed without compromising a ship's nautical capabilities. Once one power adopts this devastating weapon, all others must follow suit or risk obvious inferiority, turning battles into contests of ram against ram." While refraining from fully committing to the ram as [117]the dominant weapon of the era, which the French navy has conceded, this brief argument serves as a good example of how studies of future battle orders should be approached. A French writer, commenting on Labrousse's paper, says:—
"Twenty-seven years were scarce enough for our fathers, counting from 1638, the date of building the 'Couronne,' to 1665, to pass from the tactical order of the line abreast, the order for galleys, to that of the line ahead. We ourselves needed twenty-nine years from 1830, when the first steamship was brought into our fleet, to 1859, when the application of the principle of ram-fighting was affirmed by laying down the 'Solferino' and the 'Magenta' to work a revolution in the contrary direction; so true it is that truth is always slow in getting to the light.... This transformation was not sudden, not only because the new material required time to be built and armed, but above all, it is sad to say, because the necessary consequences of the new motive power escaped most minds."[24]
"Twenty-seven years were barely enough for our ancestors, from 1638, the year the 'Couronne' was built, to 1665, to shift from the tactical formation of galleys in line abreast to that of line ahead. We ourselves took twenty-nine years, from 1830, when the first steamship joined our fleet, to 1859, when the principle of ram-fighting was established with the launch of the 'Solferino' and the 'Magenta,' marking a revolutionary shift in the opposite direction; so true it is that truth is always slow to emerge.... This change wasn’t sudden, not just because the new materials took time to be built and equipped, but sadly, because most people failed to grasp the necessary implications of the new power source." [24]
We come now to the justly celebrated Four Days' Battle of June, 1666, which claims special notice, not only on account of the great number of ships engaged on either side, nor yet only for the extraordinary physical endurance of the men who kept up a hot naval action for so many successive days, but also because the commanders-in-chief on either side, Monk and De Ruyter, were the most distinguished seamen, or rather sea-commanders, brought forth by their respective countries in the seventeenth century. Monk was possibly inferior to Blake in the annals of the English navy; but there is a general agreement that De Ruyter is the foremost figure, not only in the Dutch service, but among all the naval officers of that age. The account about to be given is mainly taken from a recent number of the "Revue Maritime et Coloniale,"[25] and is there published as a letter, recently discovered, from a Dutch gentleman serving as volunteer on board De Ruyter's ship, to a friend in France. The narrative is delightfully clear and probable,—qualities not generally found in the description of [118]those long-ago fights; and the satisfaction it gave was increased by finding in the Memoirs of the Count de Guiche, who also served as volunteer in the fleet, and was taken to De Ruyter after his own vessel had been destroyed by a fire-ship, an account confirming the former in its principal details.[26] This additional pleasure was unhappily marred by recognizing certain phrases as common to both stories; and a comparison showed that the two could not be accepted as independent narratives. There are, however, points of internal difference which make it possible that the two accounts are by different eye-witnesses, who compared and corrected their versions before sending them out to their friends or writing them in their journals.
We now turn to the well-known Four Days' Battle of June 1666, which deserves special attention, not just because of the large number of ships involved on both sides or the incredible stamina of the men who engaged in intense naval combat for so many consecutive days, but also because the commanders-in-chief on either side, Monk and De Ruyter, were the most notable naval leaders produced by their countries in the seventeenth century. While Monk might not quite measure up to Blake in the history of the English navy, there is a general consensus that De Ruyter stands out as the leading figure, not only in the Dutch navy, but among all naval officers of that time. The account that follows is primarily drawn from a recent issue of the "Revue Maritime et Coloniale,"[25] and it is published there as a letter, recently discovered, from a Dutch gentleman who served as a volunteer on De Ruyter's ship to a friend in France. The narrative is refreshingly clear and credible—qualities that are not usually found in descriptions of [118]those long-ago battles; and the enjoyment it provided was enhanced by finding a corroborating account in the Memoirs of the Count de Guiche, who also volunteered in the fleet and was taken to De Ruyter after his own ship was destroyed by a fire ship, which confirmed the earlier details. [26] Unfortunately, this added pleasure was somewhat diminished by noticing certain phrases that were common to both accounts; a comparison revealed that the two could not be viewed as independent narratives. However, there are internal differences that suggest the accounts might be from different eyewitnesses, who may have compared and adjusted their versions before sharing them with their friends or recording them in their journals.
The numbers of the two fleets were: English about eighty ships, the Dutch about one hundred; but the inequality in numbers was largely compensated by the greater size of many of the English. A great strategic blunder by the government in London immediately preceded the fight. The king was informed that a French squadron was on its way from the Atlantic to join the Dutch. He at once divided his fleet, sending twenty ships under Prince Rupert to the westward to meet the French, while the remainder under Monk were to go east and oppose the Dutch.
The two fleets had the following numbers: the English had about eighty ships, while the Dutch had about one hundred; however, the English had many larger ships that helped balance out the difference in numbers. Just before the battle, the government in London made a big strategic mistake. The king learned that a French squadron was coming from the Atlantic to join the Dutch, so he immediately split his fleet. He sent twenty ships under Prince Rupert to the west to intercept the French, while the rest, led by Monk, headed east to confront the Dutch.
A position like that of the English fleet, threatened with an attack from two quarters, presents one of the subtlest temptations to a commander. The impulse is very strong to meet both by dividing his own numbers as Charles did; but unless in possession of overwhelming force it is an error, exposing both divisions to be beaten separately, which, as we are about to see, actually happened in this case. The result of the first two days was disastrous to the larger English division under Monk, which was then obliged to retreat toward Rupert; and probably the opportune return of the latter alone saved the English fleet from a very serious loss, or at the least from being shut up in their own ports. A hundred and forty years [119]later, in the exciting game of strategy that was played in the Bay of Biscay before Trafalgar, the English admiral Cornwallis made precisely the same blunder, dividing his fleet into two equal parts out of supporting distance, which Napoleon at the time characterized as a glaring piece of stupidity. The lesson is the same in all ages.
A situation like that of the English fleet, facing threats from two directions, poses one of the trickiest challenges for a commander. There's a strong urge to confront both threats by splitting his forces as Charles did; however, unless he has overwhelming power, this is a mistake, leaving both groups vulnerable to being defeated separately, which, as we will see, actually occurred in this case. The outcome of the first two days was disastrous for the larger English division under Monk, which had to retreat towards Rupert; and it was probably the timely return of the latter that saved the English fleet from a significant loss, or at least from being trapped in their own ports. A hundred and forty years [119] later, during the strategic maneuvers in the Bay of Biscay before Trafalgar, Admiral Cornwallis made exactly the same mistake by dividing his fleet into two equal parts that were too far apart to support each other, a blunder Napoleon described as a blatant act of foolishness. The lesson remains the same throughout history.
The Dutch had sailed for the English coast with a fair easterly wind, but it changed later to southwest with thick weather, and freshened, so that De Ruyter, to avoid being driven too far, came to anchor between Dunkirk and the Downs.[27] The fleet then rode with its head to the south-southwest and the van on the right; while Tromp, who commanded the rear division in the natural order, was on the left. For some cause this left was most to windward, the centre squadron under Ruyter being to leeward, and the right, or van, to leeward again of the centre.[28] This was the position of the Dutch fleet at daylight of June 11, 1666; and although not expressly so stated, it is likely, from the whole tenor of the narratives, that it was not in good order.
The Dutch had sailed toward the English coast with a nice easterly wind, but it later shifted to a southwest direction with rough weather, picking up intensity. To avoid being pushed too far off course, De Ruyter dropped anchor between Dunkirk and the Downs.[27] The fleet was positioned facing south-southwest, with the front on the right, while Tromp, who led the rear division in the usual arrangement, was on the left. For some reason, this left side was most exposed to the wind, with the center squadron under Ruyter positioned downwind, and the right, or van, positioned downwind again of the center.[28] This was the state of the Dutch fleet at dawn on June 11, 1666; and although it's not explicitly stated, it's likely, based on the overall accounts, that it was not well organized.
The same morning Monk, who was also at anchor, made out the Dutch fleet to leeward, and although so inferior in numbers determined to attack at once, hoping that by keeping the advantage of the wind he would be able to commit himself only so far as might seem best. He therefore stood along the Dutch line on the starboard tack, leaving the right and centre out of cannon-shot, until he came abreast of the left, Tromp's squadron. Monk then had thirty-five ships well in hand; but the rear had opened and was straggling, as is apt to be the case with long columns. With the thirty-five he then put his helm up and ran down for Tromp, whose squadron cut their cables and made sail on the same tack (V’); the two engaged [120]lines thus standing over toward the French coast, and the breeze heeling the ships so that the English could not use their lower-deck guns (Fig. 2, V’’). The Dutch centre and rear also cut (Fig. 1, C’), and followed the movement, but being so far to leeward, could not for some time come into action. It was during this time that a large Dutch ship, becoming separated from her own fleet, was set on fire and burned, doubtless the ship in which was Count de Guiche.
That same morning, Monk, who was also anchored, spotted the Dutch fleet downwind. Even though his forces were significantly outnumbered, he decided to attack immediately, hoping that by taking advantage of the wind, he could control the engagement as needed. He sailed along the Dutch line on the starboard tack, staying out of cannon range on the right and center until he reached the left side, where Tromp's squadron was positioned. Monk had thirty-five ships ready for action, but the rear was spreading out, as often happens with long lines of ships. With those thirty-five, he turned his helm and headed toward Tromp's squadron, which cut their cables and set sail on the same tack (V’); the two fleets engaged [120] while sailing toward the French coast, with the breeze leaning the ships so much that the English couldn’t use their lower-deck guns (Fig. 2, V’). The Dutch center and rear cut (Fig. 1, C’) and followed suit but, being so far downwind, couldn't enter the battle for some time. During this period, a large Dutch ship got separated from her fleet, was set on fire, and burned, likely the ship carrying Count de Guiche.
As they drew near Dunkirk the English went about, probably all together; for in the return to the northward and westward the proper English van fell in with and was roughly handled by the Dutch centre under Ruyter himself (Fig. 2, C’’). This fate would be more likely to befall the rear, and indicates that a simultaneous movement had reversed the order. The engaged ships had naturally lost to leeward, thus enabling Ruyter to fetch up with them. Two English flag-ships were here disabled and cut off; one, the "Swiftsure," hauled down her colors after the admiral, a young man of only twenty-seven, was killed. "Highly to be admired," says a contemporary writer, "was the resolution of Vice-Admiral Berkeley, who, though cut off from the line, surrounded by enemies, great numbers of his men killed, his ship disabled and boarded on all sides, yet continued fighting almost alone, killed several with his own hand, and would accept no quarter; till at length, being shot in the throat with a musket-ball, he retired into the captain's cabin, where he was found dead, extended at his full length upon a table, and almost covered with his own blood." Quite as heroic, but more fortunate in its issue, was the conduct of the other English admiral thus cut off; and the incidents of his struggle, though not specially instructive otherwise, are worth quoting, as giving a lively picture of the scenes which passed in the heat of the contests of those days, and afford coloring to otherwise dry details.
As they got closer to Dunkirk, the English regrouped, likely all at once; when they turned north and west, the main English fleet encountered and was roughly attacked by the Dutch center led by Ruyter himself (Fig. 2, C''). This was more likely to happen to the rear, indicating that a simultaneous movement had changed their order. The engaged ships had naturally drifted downwind, allowing Ruyter to catch up with them. Two English flagship ships were disabled and cut off; one, the "Swiftsure," lowered its colors after the admiral, a young man of only twenty-seven, was killed. "Highly admirable," says a contemporary writer, "was the resolution of Vice-Admiral Berkeley, who, although cut off from the line, surrounded by enemies, with many of his men killed, his ship damaged and boarded on all sides, continued to fight almost alone, killed several with his own hand, and would accept no surrender; until finally, being shot in the throat by a musket-ball, he retreated into the captain's cabin, where he was found dead, lying flat on a table, almost covered with his own blood." Just as heroic, but luckier in its outcome, was the conduct of the other English admiral who was also cut off; the details of his struggle, while not particularly instructive in any other way, are worth quoting, as they provide a vivid depiction of the scenes that unfolded during the heat of battles in those days, adding color to otherwise dull details.
"Being in a short time completely disabled, one of the enemy's fire-ships grappled him on the starboard quarter; he was, however, freed by the almost incredible exertions of his lieutenant, who, [121]having in the midst of the flames loosed the grappling-irons, swung back on board his own ship unhurt. The Dutch, bent on the destruction of this unfortunate ship, sent a second which grappled her on the larboard side, and with greater success than the former; for the sails instantly taking fire, the crew were so terrified that nearly fifty of them jumped overboard. The admiral, Sir John Harman, seeing this confusion, ran with his sword drawn among those who remained, and threatened with instant death the first man who should attempt to quit the ship, or should not exert himself to quench the flames. The crew then returned to their duty and got the fire under; but the rigging being a good deal burned, one of the topsail yards fell and broke Sir John's leg. In the midst of this accumulated distress, a third fire-ship prepared to grapple him, but was sunk by the guns before she could effect her purpose. The Dutch vice-admiral, Evertzen, now bore down to him and offered quarter; but Sir John replied, 'No, no, it is not come to that yet,' and giving him a broadside, killed the Dutch commander; after which the other enemies sheered off."[29]
"After a brief time of being completely disabled, one of the enemy's fire-ships grappled him on the starboard side; however, he was freed by the almost unbelievable efforts of his lieutenant, who, [121]in the middle of the flames, untangled the grappling-irons and swung back onto his own ship without getting hurt. The Dutch, determined to destroy this unfortunate ship, sent a second fire-ship that grappled her on the port side, and with greater success than the first; for the sails caught fire immediately, and the crew panicked, with nearly fifty of them jumping overboard. The admiral, Sir John Harman, seeing this chaos, charged in with his sword drawn among the remaining crew and threatened anyone who tried to leave the ship or who didn’t help put out the flames with instant death. The crew then returned to their duties and managed to extinguish the fire, but with much of the rigging burned, one of the topsail yards collapsed and broke Sir John's leg. Amidst this overwhelming distress, a third fire-ship tried to grapple him, but was sunk by cannon fire before it could accomplish its mission. The Dutch vice-admiral, Evertzen, then approached him and offered surrender; but Sir John replied, 'No, no, it hasn't come to that yet,' and fired a broadside, killing the Dutch commander; after which the other enemies retreated."[29]
It is therefore not surprising that the account we have been following reported two English flag-ships lost, one by a fire-ship. "The English chief still continued on the port tack, and," says the writer, "as night fell we could see him proudly leading his line past the squadron of North Holland and Zealand [the actual rear, but proper van], which from noon up to that time had not been able to reach the enemy [Fig. 2, R’’] from their leewardly position." The merit of Monk's attack as a piece of grand tactics is evident, and bears a strong resemblance to that of Nelson at the Nile. Discerning quickly the weakness of the Dutch order, he had attacked a vastly superior force in such a way that only part of it could come into action; and though the English actually lost more heavily, they carried off a brilliant prestige and must have left considerable depression and heart-burning among the Dutch. The eye-witness goes on: "The affair continued until ten P.M., friends and foes mixed together and as likely to receive injury from one as from the other. It will be remarked that the success of the day and the misfortunes of [122]the English came from their being too much scattered, too extended in their line; but for which we could never have cut off a corner of them, as we did. The mistake of Monk was in not keeping his ships better together;" that is, closed up. The remark is just, the criticism scarcely so; the opening out of the line was almost unavoidable in so long a column of sailing-ships, and was one of the chances taken by Monk when he offered battle.
It’s not surprising that the account we’ve been following reported that two English flagships were lost, one due to a fire ship. "The English chief kept going on the port tack, and," says the writer, "as night fell we could see him proudly leading his line past the squadron of North Holland and Zealand [the actual rear, but proper front], which hadn't been able to reach the enemy [Fig. 2, R’’] from their downwind position from noon until then." The skill of Monk's attack as a strategic move is clear and reminds us of Nelson at the Nile. Quickly recognizing the weakness in the Dutch formation, he took on a much larger force in a way that only part of it could engage; and although the English suffered heavier losses, they gained significant prestige and likely caused considerable disappointment among the Dutch. The eyewitness continues: "The situation lasted until ten PM, with friends and foes mixed together, just as likely to get hurt by one side as the other. It's worth noting that the success of the day and the losses of [122] for the English were due to them being too scattered and too extended in their line; if they hadn’t been, we could never have cut off a piece of them as we did. Monk's mistake was not keeping his ships closer together;" meaning more compact. The observation is valid, but the critique is less so; the spreading out of the line was almost unavoidable in such a long column of sailing ships, and it was one of the risks Monk took when he engaged in battle.
The English stood off on the port tack to the west or west-northwest, and next day returned to the fight. The Dutch were now on the port tack in natural order, the right leading, and were to windward; but the enemy, being more weatherly and better disciplined, soon gained the advantage of the wind. The English this day had forty-four ships in action, the Dutch about eighty; many of the English, as before said, larger. The two fleets passed on opposite tacks, the English to windward;[30] but Tromp, in the rear, seeing that the Dutch order of battle was badly formed, the ships in two or three lines, overlapping and so masking each other's fire, went about and gained to windward of the enemy's van (R’); which he was able to do from the length of the line, and because the English, running parallel to the Dutch order, were off the wind. "At this moment two flag-officers of the Dutch van kept broad off, presenting their sterns to the English (V’). Ruyter, greatly astonished, tried to stop them, but in vain, and therefore felt obliged to imitate the manœuvre in order to keep his squadron together; but he did so with some order, keeping some ships around him, and was joined by one of the van ships, disgusted with the conduct of his immediate superior. Tromp was now in great danger, separated [by his own act first and then by the conduct of the van] from his own fleet by the English, and would have been destroyed but for Ruyter, who, seeing the urgency of the case, hauled up for him," the van and centre thus standing back for the rear on the opposite tack to that on which they entered action. This prevented the English from keeping up the attack on Tromp, lest [123]Ruyter should gain the wind of them, which they could not afford to yield because of their very inferior numbers. Both the action of Tromp and that of the junior flag-officers in the van, though showing very different degrees of warlike ardor, bring out strongly the lack of subordination and of military feeling which has been charged against the Dutch officers as a body; no signs of which appear among the English at this time.
The English fleet was positioned on the port tack to the west or west-northwest and returned to battle the next day. The Dutch were now on the port tack in their natural order, with the leading ships on the right, and were upwind; however, the enemy was more weatherly and better organized, quickly gaining the wind advantage. On this day, the English had forty-four ships in action, while the Dutch had about eighty, with many of the English ships being larger. The two fleets passed each other on opposite tacks, the English to windward;[30] but Tromp, at the back, noticed that the Dutch battle line was poorly formed, with ships in two or three lines overlapping and blocking each other's fire. He turned around and managed to get upwind of the enemy’s front (R'); he was able to do this because of the length of the line, and because the English, running parallel to the Dutch line, were off the wind. "At this moment, two flag-officers of the Dutch front kept drifting away, presenting their sterns to the English (V’). Ruyter, shocked, tried to stop them, but it was useless, so he felt he had to imitate that maneuver to keep his squadron together; he managed this with some order, keeping some ships around him, and was joined by one of the front ships, upset with his superior's actions. Tromp was now in serious trouble, separated from his own fleet by the English due to his own actions and the conduct of the front, and would have been destroyed if not for Ruyter, who, seeing the urgency of the situation, veered to assist him," with the front and center retreating to back on the opposite tack from the one they entered the battle on. This prevented the English from continuing their attack on Tromp, as Ruyter could gain the wind over them, which they couldn’t afford to lose due to their significantly smaller numbers. Both Tromp's actions and those of the junior flag-officers in the front, despite showing different levels of enthusiasm for fighting, highlight the lack of discipline and military spirit that has been criticized in Dutch officers as a whole; no signs of this were present among the English at this time.
How keenly Ruyter felt the conduct of his lieutenants was manifested when "Tromp, immediately after this partial action, went on board his flagship. The seamen cheered him; but Ruyter said, 'This is no time for rejoicing, but rather for tears.' Indeed, our position was bad, each squadron acting differently, in no line, and all the ships huddled together like a flock of sheep, so packed that the English might have surrounded all of them with their forty ships [June 12, Fig. 2]. The English were in admirable order, but did not push their advantage as they should, whatever the reason." The reason no doubt was the same that often prevented sailing-ships from pressing an advantage,—disability from crippled spars and rigging, added to the inexpediency of such inferior numbers risking a decisive action.
How intensely Ruyter felt about his lieutenants' behavior was clear when "Tromp, right after this limited engagement, boarded his flagship. The crew cheered for him; but Ruyter said, 'This isn’t a time for celebration, but rather for mourning.' In fact, our situation was dire, with each squadron operating independently, not in formation, and all the ships clustered together like a herd of sheep, so tightly packed that the English could have easily surrounded us with their forty ships [June 12, Fig. 2]. The English were in excellent formation, but they didn’t take advantage of the situation as they should have, for whatever reason." The reason was likely the same that often held back sailing ships from capitalizing on an advantage — damage to masts and rigging, combined with the impracticality of having such smaller numbers risking a decisive engagement.
Ruyter was thus able to draw his fleet out into line again, although much maltreated by the English, and the two fleets passed again on opposite tacks, the Dutch to leeward, and Ruyter's ship the last in his column. As he passed the English rear, he lost his maintopmast and mainyard. After another partial rencounter the English drew away to the northwest toward their own shores, the Dutch following them; the wind being still from southwest, but light. The English were now fairly in retreat, and the pursuit continued all night, Ruyter's own ship dropping out of sight in the rear from her crippled state.
Ruyter managed to align his fleet again, despite suffering heavy damage from the English, and the two fleets met again on opposite tacks, with the Dutch downwind and Ruyter's ship being the last in line. As he passed behind the English rear, he lost his maintopmast and mainyard. After another brief skirmish, the English pulled back to the northwest toward their shores, with the Dutch following. The wind was still coming from the southwest, but it was light. The English were clearly in retreat, and the chase continued throughout the night, with Ruyter's own ship falling behind due to its damaged state.
The third day Monk continued retreating to the westward. He burned, by the English accounts, three disabled ships, sent ahead those that were most crippled, and himself brought up the rear with those that were in fighting condition, which are [124]variously stated, again by the English, at twenty-eight and sixteen in number (Plate II., June 13). One of the largest and finest of the English fleet, the "Royal Prince," of ninety guns, ran aground on the Galloper Shoal and was taken by Tromp (Plate II. a); but Monk's retreat was so steady and orderly that he was otherwise unmolested. This shows that the Dutch had suffered very severely. Toward evening Rupert's squadron was seen; and all the ships of the English fleet, except those crippled in action, were at last united.
On the third day, Monk continued retreating to the west. According to English accounts, he burned three damaged ships, sent ahead those that were most damaged, and himself brought up the rear with the ships that were still able to fight, which are [124]variously reported by the English as being twenty-eight or sixteen in number (Plate II., June 13). One of the largest and best ships in the English fleet, the "Royal Prince," with ninety guns, ran aground on the Galloper Shoal and was captured by Tromp (Plate II. a); however, Monk's retreat was so steady and organized that he faced no further interference. This indicates that the Dutch had suffered significant losses. Toward evening, Rupert's squadron was spotted, and all the ships of the English fleet, except those damaged in battle, were finally united.
The next day the wind came out again very fresh from the southwest, giving the Dutch the weather-gage. The English, instead of attempting to pass upon opposite tacks, came up from astern relying upon the speed and handiness of their ships. So doing, the battle engaged all along the line on the port tack, the English to leeward.[31] The Dutch fire-ships were badly handled and did no harm, whereas the English burned two of their enemies. The two fleets ran on thus, exchanging broadsides for two hours, at the end of which time the bulk of the English fleet had passed through the Dutch line.[32] All regularity of order was henceforward lost. "At this moment," says the eye-witness, "the lookout was extraordinary, for all were separated, the English as well as we. But luck would have it that the largest of our fractions surrounding the admiral remained to windward, and the largest fraction of the English, also with their admiral, remained to leeward [Figs. 1 and 2, C and C’]. This was the cause of our victory and their ruin. Our admiral had with him thirty-five or forty ships of his own and of other squadrons, for the squadrons were scattered and order much lost. The rest of the Dutch ships had left him. The leader of the van, Van Ness, had gone off with fourteen ships in chase of three or four English ships, which under a press of sail had gained to windward of the Dutch van [Fig. 1, V]. Van Tromp with the rear [125]squadron had fallen to leeward, and so had to keep on [to leeward of Ruyter and the English main body, Fig. 1, R] after Van Ness, in order to rejoin the admiral by passing round the English centre." De Ruyter and the English main body kept up a sharp action, beating to windward all the time. Tromp, having carried sail, overtook Van Ness, and returned bringing the van back with him (V’, R’); but owing to the constant plying to windward of the English main body he came up to leeward of it and could not rejoin Ruyter, who was to windward (Fig. 3, V’’, R’’). Ruyter, seeing this, made signal to the ships around him, and the main body of the Dutch kept away before the wind (Fig 3, C’’), which was then very strong. "Thus in less than no time we found ourselves in the midst of the English; who, being attacked on both sides, were thrown into confusion and saw their whole order destroyed, as well by dint of the action, as by the strong wind that was then blowing. This was the hottest of the fight [Fig. 3]. We saw the high admiral of England separated from his fleet, followed only by one fire-ship. With that he gained to windward, and passing through the North Holland squadron, placed himself again at the head of fifteen or twenty ships that rallied to him."
The next day, the wind picked up again, blowing fresh from the southwest, giving the Dutch the advantage. Instead of trying to sail on opposite tacks, the English came up from behind, relying on their ships' speed and maneuverability. This led to a battle engaging all along the line on the port tack, with the English downwind. The Dutch fire-ships were poorly managed and did no damage, while the English managed to burn two of their enemy ships. The two fleets continued to move forward, exchanging cannon fire for two hours, after which most of the English fleet had passed through the Dutch line. From that point on, all order was lost. "At this moment," said the eyewitness, "the lookout was chaotic, as everyone was scattered, the English included. But by chance, the largest portion of our fleet surrounding the admiral stayed upwind, and the largest portion of the English, along with their admiral, stayed downwind. This was the reason for our victory and their downfall. Our admiral had with him thirty-five or forty ships from his and other squadrons, as the squadrons were dispersed and order was greatly lost. The rest of the Dutch ships had left him. The van leader, Van Ness, had gone off with fourteen ships in pursuit of three or four English vessels that had gained the windward side over the Dutch van. Van Tromp with the rear squadron had fallen downwind and continued to chase after Van Ness in order to rejoin the admiral by passing around the English center. De Ruyter and the English main body kept up a fierce battle, heading upwind the whole time. Tromp, having sailed faster, caught up with Van Ness and returned with the van. However, due to the English main body constantly moving upwind, he ended up positioned downwind and could not rejoin Ruyter, who was upwind. Ruyter, noticing this, signaled to the nearby ships, and the main Dutch fleet turned before the wind, which was very strong at that time. "In no time at all, we found ourselves amidst the English, who, being attacked from both sides, were thrown into disarray and lost all formation, due to both the battle and the strong wind blowing. This was the hottest part of the fight. We saw the English admiral separated from his fleet, followed only by one fire-ship. With that, he managed to gain the windward position and, passing through the North Holland squadron, positioned himself at the head of fifteen or twenty ships that regrouped with him."
Thus ended this great sea-fight, the most remarkable, in some of its aspects, that has ever been fought upon the ocean. Amid conflicting reports it is not possible to do more than estimate the results. A fairly impartial account says: "The States lost in these actions three vice-admirals, two thousand men, and four ships. The loss of the English was five thousand killed and three thousand prisoners; and they lost besides seventeen ships, of which nine remained in the hands of the victors."[33] There is no doubt that the English had much the worst of it, and that this was owing wholly to the original blunder of weakening the fleet by a great detachment sent in another direction. Great detachments are sometimes necessary evils, but in this case no necessity existed. Granting the approach of the French, the proper course for the English [126]was to fall with their whole fleet upon the Dutch before their allies could come up. This lesson is as applicable to-day as it ever was. A second lesson, likewise of present application, is the necessity of sound military institutions for implanting correct military feeling, pride, and discipline. Great as was the first blunder of the English, and serious as was the disaster, there can be no doubt that the consequences would have been much worse but for the high spirit and skill with which the plans of Monk were carried out by his subordinates, and the lack of similar support to Ruyter on the part of the Dutch subalterns. In the movements of the English, we hear nothing of two juniors turning tail at a critical moment, nor of a third, with misdirected ardor, getting on the wrong side of the enemy's fleet. Their drill also, their tactical precision, was remarked even then. The Frenchman De Guiche, after witnessing this Four Days' Fight, wrote:—
Thus ended this major sea battle, one of the most notable in some ways that has ever taken place on the ocean. Amid conflicting reports, it's hard to get an accurate understanding of the outcomes. An unbiased account states: "The States lost three vice-admirals, two thousand men, and four ships in these engagements. The English lost five thousand killed and three thousand captured; additionally, they lost seventeen ships, of which nine remained in the hands of the victors." There’s no doubt that the English suffered the most, and this was entirely due to the initial mistake of weakening their fleet by sending a large detachment in another direction. Large detachments can sometimes be necessary, but in this case, there was no real need for it. Given the approach of the French, the right strategy for the English was to engage the Dutch with their entire fleet before their allies could arrive. This lesson is just as relevant today as it has always been. Another lesson, also applicable now, is the importance of solid military institutions to foster the right military attitudes, pride, and discipline. Although the initial mistake by the English was significant, and the disaster serious, it’s clear that the consequences would have been much worse if not for the strong spirit and skill with which Monk’s plans were executed by his subordinates, compared to the lack of similar support for Ruyter from the Dutch lower command. In the English maneuvers, we don't hear about two junior officers retreating at a crucial moment, nor of a third officer, overly eager, getting mixed up with the enemy's fleet. Their training and tactical precision were noted even then. The Frenchman De Guiche, after witnessing this Four Days' Fight, wrote:—
"Nothing equals the beautiful order of the English at sea. Never was a line drawn straighter than that formed by their ships; thus they bring all their fire to bear upon those who draw near them.... They fight like a line of cavalry which is handled according to rule, and applies itself solely to force back those who oppose; whereas the Dutch advance like cavalry whose squadrons leave their ranks and come separately to the charge."[34]
"Nothing compares to the impressive formation of the English at sea. No line has ever been drawn straighter than that made by their ships; they direct all their fire at anyone who gets close to them.... They fight like a well-organized line of cavalry that follows the rules and focuses entirely on pushing back their opponents; on the other hand, the Dutch charge like cavalry whose squads break from formation and attack individually." [34]
The Dutch government, averse to expense, unmilitary in its tone, and incautious from long and easy victory over the degenerate navy of Spain, had allowed its fleet to sink into a mere assembly of armed merchantmen. Things were at their worst in the days of Cromwell. Taught by the severe lessons of that war, the United Provinces, under an able ruler, had done much to mend matters, but full efficiency had not yet been gained.
The Dutch government, reluctant to spend money, lacking military spirit, and careless from their long and easy victories over the weakened Spanish navy, had let their fleet turn into just a collection of armed merchant ships. Things were at their worst during Cromwell’s time. Learning from the harsh lessons of that war, the United Provinces, under an effective leader, had made significant improvements, but they still hadn’t achieved full efficiency.
"In 1666 as in 1653," says a French naval writer, "the fortune of war seemed to lean to the side of the English. Of the three great battles fought two were decided victories; and the third, though adverse, had but increased the glory of her seamen. This was due to the intelligent boldness of Monk and Rupert, the talents of part [127]of the admirals and captains, and the skill of the seamen and soldiers under them. The wise and vigorous efforts made by the government of the United Provinces, and the undeniable superiority of Ruyter in experience and genius over any one of his opponents, could not compensate for the weakness or incapacity of part of the Dutch officers, and the manifest inferiority of the men under their orders."[35]
"In 1666, just like in 1653," says a French naval writer, "the tide of war seemed to favor the English. Out of the three major battles fought, two were clear victories; and the third, although a loss, only enhanced the reputation of their sailors. This success was thanks to the smart daring of Monk and Rupert, the skills of some admirals and captains, and the expertise of the sailors and soldiers under their command. The strong and effective efforts made by the government of the United Provinces, along with Ruyter's undeniable superiority in experience and talent over any of his rivals, couldn't make up for the weaknesses or ineptitude of some Dutch officers and the evident lack of quality among the men they commanded."[127][35]
England, as has been said before, still felt the impress of Cromwell's iron hand upon her military institutions; but that impress was growing weaker. Before the next Dutch war Monk was dead, and was poorly replaced by the cavalier Rupert. Court extravagance cut down the equipment of the navy as did the burgomaster's parsimony, and court corruption undermined discipline as surely as commercial indifference. The effect was evident when the fleets of the two countries met again, six years later.
England, as mentioned before, still felt the impact of Cromwell's strict control over her military institutions; however, that impact was weakening. Before the next Dutch war, Monk was dead and poorly replaced by the cavalier Rupert. Court extravagance reduced the navy's resources, just like the burgomaster's stinginess did, and corruption at court eroded discipline just as much as commercial negligence. The consequences became clear when the fleets of the two countries faced off again, six years later.
There was one well-known feature of all the military navies of that day which calls for a passing comment; for its correct bearing and value is not always, perhaps not generally, seen. The command of fleets and of single vessels was often given to soldiers, to military men unaccustomed to the sea, and ignorant how to handle the ship, that duty being intrusted to another class of officer. Looking closely into the facts, it is seen that this made a clean division between the direction of the fighting and of the motive power of the ship. This is the essence of the matter; and the principle is the same whatever the motive power may be. The inconvenience and inefficiency of such a system was obvious then as it is now, and the logic of facts gradually threw the two functions into the hands of one corps of officers, the result being the modern naval officer, as that term is generally understood.[36] Unfortunately, in this process of blending, the less important function was allowed to get the upper hand; the naval officer came to feel more [128]proud of his dexterity in managing the motive power of his ship than of his skill in developing her military efficiency. The bad effects of this lack of interest in military science became most evident when the point of handling fleets was reached, because for that military skill told most, and previous study was most necessary; but it was felt in the single ship as well. Hence it came to pass, and especially in the English navy, that the pride of the seaman took the place of the pride of the military man. The English naval officer thought more of that which likened him to the merchant captain than of that which made him akin to the soldier. In the French navy this result was less general, owing probably to the more military spirit of the government, and especially of the nobility, to whom the rank of officer was reserved. It was not possible that men whose whole association was military, all of whose friends looked upon arms as the one career for a gentleman, could think more of the sails and rigging than of the guns or the fleet. The English corps of officers was of different origin. There was more than the writer thought in Macaulay's well-known saying: "There were seamen and there were gentlemen in the navy of Charles II.; but the seamen were not gentlemen, and the gentlemen were not seamen." The trouble was not in the absence or presence of gentlemen as such, but in the fact that under the conditions of that day the gentleman was pre-eminently the military element of society; and that the seaman, after the Dutch wars, gradually edged the gentleman, and with him the military tone and spirit as distinguished from simple courage, out of the service. Even "such men of family as Herbert and Russell, William III.'s admirals," says the biographer of Lord Hawke, "were sailors indeed, but only able to hold their own by adopting the boisterous manners of the hardy tarpaulin." The same national traits which made the French inferior as seamen made them superior as military men; not in courage, but in skill. To this day the same tendency obtains; the direction of the motive power has no such consideration as the military functions in the navies of the Latin nations. The studious [129]and systematic side of the French character also inclined the French officer, when not a trifler, to consider and develop tactical questions in a logical manner; to prepare himself to handle fleets, not merely as a seaman but as a military man. The result showed, in the American Revolutionary War, that despite a mournful history of governmental neglect, men who were first of all military men, inferior though they were in opportunities as seamen to their enemies, could meet them on more than equal terms as to tactical skill, and were practically their superiors in handling fleets. The false theory has already been pointed out, which directed the action of the French fleet not to crushing its enemy, but to some ulterior aim; but this does not affect the fact that in tactical skill the military men were superior to the mere seamen, though their tactical skill was applied to mistaken strategic ends. The source whence the Dutch mainly drew their officers does not certainly appear; for while the English naval historian in 1666 says that most of the captains of their fleet were sons of rich burgomasters, placed there for political reasons by the Grand Pensionary, and without experience, Duquesne, the ablest French admiral of the day, comments in 1676 on the precision and skill of the Dutch captains in terms very disparaging to his own. It is likely, from many indications, that they were generally merchant seamen, with little original military feeling; but the severity with which the delinquents were punished both by the State and by popular frenzy, seems to have driven these officers, who were far from lacking the highest personal courage, into a sense of what military loyalty and subordination required. They made a very different record in 1672 from that of 1666.
There was one well-known aspect of all the military navies of that time that deserves a brief mention, as its true significance is not always recognized. The command of fleets and individual ships was frequently given to soldiers—military personnel who were unfamiliar with the sea and didn’t know how to operate the vessel, as that responsibility was assigned to another type of officer. Upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that this created a distinct division between directing the combat and managing the ship’s propulsion. This is the core issue, and the principle holds true regardless of the type of propulsion used. The drawbacks and inefficiencies of such a system were evident then, just as they are now, and over time, the two functions were consolidated under a single group of officers. This led to the emergence of the modern naval officer as we generally understand the term.[36] Unfortunately, in this merging process, the less significant role began to dominate; naval officers became prouder of their ability to manage the ship's propulsion than of their expertise in enhancing its combat effectiveness. The negative consequences of this lack of focus on military science were most apparent when it came to fleet management, as military skill was crucial, necessitating prior study; but it was also felt at the level of individual ships. Thus, especially in the English navy, the pride of the sailor overshadowed the pride of the military officer. The English naval officer valued what connected him to the merchant captain more than what aligned him with the soldier. In the French navy, this trend was less widespread, likely due to the government's stronger military spirit, particularly among the nobility, for whom the officer rank was reserved. It was unlikely that men whose entire background was military, with friends viewing arms as the only career for a gentleman, would prioritize sails and rigging over guns and fleets. The English officer corps had a different origin. Macaulay’s famous saying about the navy of Charles II. reflects this: "There were seamen and there were gentlemen in the navy of Charles II.; but the seamen were not gentlemen, and the gentlemen were not seamen." The issue wasn’t the presence or absence of gentlemen per se, but that, at the time, the gentleman was primarily viewed as the military element of society, and that after the Dutch wars, the seaman gradually pushed the gentleman—and the military tone and spirit, distinct from mere bravery—out of the service. Even "such men of family as Herbert and Russell, William III.'s admirals," notes Lord Hawke's biographer, "were sailors indeed, but only able to hold their own by adopting the rowdy manners of the tough seafarer." The same national characteristics that made the French inferior as sailors made them superior as military personnel—not in courage, but in skill. To this day, the same tendency persists; the management of propulsion sees far less consideration than the military roles in the navies of the Latin countries. The studious and systematic nature of the French character also led the French officer, when not being frivolous, to logically consider and develop tactical issues, equipping himself to manage fleets not only as a sailor but as a military leader. This was evident during the American Revolutionary War, where, despite a discouraging history of governmental neglect, individuals who were primarily military personnel—though they had fewer opportunities as sailors than their adversaries—could engage them on nearly equal terms in tactical skill and were practically superior in fleet handling. The misguided theory that had previously guided the French fleet—to focus not on defeating its enemy but on achieving some other objective—does not change the fact that in tactical expertise, the military personnel outperformed the mere sailors, even if their tactical skills were misapplied toward flawed strategic goals. The primary source of Dutch officers remains somewhat unclear; while an English naval historian in 1666 claimed that most of their fleet's captains were the sons of wealthy burgomasters, installed for political reasons by the Grand Pensionary without prior experience, Duquesne, the most accomplished French admiral of that time, criticized the precision and skill of the Dutch captains, implying a certain inferiority to his own. Many indications suggest they were mostly merchant sailors with minimal original military inclination; however, the harsh penalties imposed on malfeasants by both the State and public outcry seemed to instill a sense of what military loyalty and discipline entailed in these officers, who were far from lacking in personal courage. Their performance in 1672 contrasted sharply with that of 1666.
Before finally leaving the Four Days' Fight, the conclusions of another writer may well be quoted:—
Before finally leaving the Four Days' Fight, it's worth quoting the conclusions of another writer:—
"Such was that bloody Battle of the Four Days, or Straits of Calais, the most memorable sea-fight of modern days; not, indeed, by its results, but by the aspect of its different phases; by the fury of the combatants; by the boldness and skill of the leaders; and by the new character which it gave to sea warfare. More than any other [130]this fight marks clearly the passage from former methods to the tactics of the end of the seventeenth century. For the first time we can follow, as though traced upon a plan, the principal movements of the contending fleets. It seems quite clear that to the Dutch as well as to the British have been given a tactical book and a code of signals; or, at the least, written instructions, extensive and precise, to serve instead of such a code. We feel that each admiral now has his squadron in hand, and that even the commander-in-chief disposes at his will, during the fight, of the various subdivisions of his fleet. Compare this action with those of 1652, and one plain fact stares you in the face,—that between the two dates naval tactics have undergone a revolution.
"Such was the bloody Battle of the Four Days, or Straits of Calais, the most memorable sea fight of modern times; not necessarily because of its results, but because of the way its various phases unfolded; by the intensity of the fighters; by the bravery and skill of the leaders; and by the new nature it brought to naval warfare. More than any other [130], this battle clearly marks the shift from old methods to the tactics used by the end of the seventeenth century. For the first time, we can follow the key movements of the rival fleets as if laid out on a map. It seems evident that both the Dutch and the British had a tactical manual and a signal code; or, at the very least, detailed and clear written instructions as a substitute for such a code. It's apparent that each admiral now has control over their squadron, and that even the commander-in-chief can manage the various subdivisions of their fleet during the battle. If you compare this action with those from 1652, one obvious fact stands out — that naval tactics have undergone a revolution between the two dates."
"Such were the changes that distinguish the war of 1665 from that of 1652. As in the latter epoch, the admiral still thinks the weather-gage an advantage for his fleet; but it is no longer, from the tactical point of view, the principal, we might almost say the sole, preoccupation. Now he wishes above all to keep his fleet in good order and compact as long as possible, so as to keep the power of combining, during the action, the movements of the different squadrons. Look at Ruyter, at the end of the Four Days' Fight; with great difficulty he has kept to windward of the English fleet, yet he does not hesitate to sacrifice this advantage in order to unite the two parts of his fleet, which are separated by the enemy. If at the later fight off the North Foreland great intervals exist between the Dutch squadrons, if the rear afterward continues to withdraw from the centre, Ruyter deplores such a fault as the chief cause of his defeat. He so deplores it in his official report; he even accuses Tromp [who was his personal enemy] of treason or cowardice,—an unjust accusation, but which none the less shows the enormous importance thenceforth attached, during action, to the reunion of the fleet into a whole strictly and regularly maintained."[37]
"These were the changes that set apart the war of 1665 from that of 1652. Similar to the earlier time, the admiral still sees the weather gauge as an advantage for his fleet; however, it is no longer, from a tactical perspective, the main, we might almost say the only, focus. Now, he primarily wants to keep his fleet organized and compact for as long as possible, to maintain the ability to coordinate the movements of the different squadrons during the battle. Look at Ruyter at the end of the Four Days' Fight; despite great difficulty, he has managed to stay upwind of the English fleet, yet he doesn't hesitate to give up this advantage to unite the two parts of his fleet, which are divided by the enemy. If, in the later fight off the North Foreland, there are significant gaps between the Dutch squadrons, and if the rear continues to disengage from the center, Ruyter views this mistake as the main reason for his defeat. He expresses this regret in his official report; he even accuses Tromp [who was his personal enemy] of treason or cowardice—an unfair accusation, but it nonetheless highlights the immense importance placed on keeping the fleet united as a cohesive and well-maintained whole during action." [37]
This commentary is justified in so far as it points out general aims and tendencies; but the results were not as complete as might be inferred from it.
This commentary makes sense as it highlights overall goals and trends; however, the outcomes were not as thorough as one might assume from it.
The English, notwithstanding their heavy loss in the Four Days' Battle, were at sea again within two months, much to the surprise of the Dutch; and on the 4th of August [131]another severe fight was fought off the North Foreland, ending in the complete defeat of the latter, who retired to their own coasts. The English followed, and effected an entrance into one of the Dutch harbors, where they destroyed a large fleet of merchantmen as well as a town of some importance. Toward the end of 1666 both sides were tired of the war, which was doing great harm to trade, and weakening both navies to the advantage of the growing sea power of France. Negotiations looking toward peace were opened; but Charles II., ill disposed to the United Provinces, confident that the growing pretensions of Louis XIV. to the Spanish Netherlands would break up the existing alliance between Holland and France, and relying also upon the severe reverses suffered at sea by the Dutch, was exacting and haughty in his demands. To justify and maintain this line of conduct he should have kept up his fleet, the prestige of which had been so advanced by its victories. Instead of that, poverty, the result of extravagance and of his home policy, led him to permit it to decline; ships in large numbers were laid up; and he readily adopted an opinion which chimed in with his penury, and which, as it has had advocates at all periods of sea history, should be noted and condemned here. This opinion, warmly opposed by Monk, was:—
The English, despite their heavy loss in the Four Days' Battle, were back at sea within two months, surprising the Dutch. On August 4th [131], another intense battle took place off the North Foreland, resulting in a total defeat for the Dutch, who retreated to their own shores. The English pursued them and managed to enter one of the Dutch harbors, where they destroyed a significant number of merchant ships and a notable town. By the end of 1666, both sides were weary of the war, which was harming trade and weakening both navies, benefiting the rising naval power of France. Peace negotiations began; however, Charles II., who held a grudge against the United Provinces, was confident that Louis XIV.'s expanding ambitions over the Spanish Netherlands would disrupt the alliance between Holland and France. He also relied on the significant defeats the Dutch had faced at sea, making him demanding and arrogant in his requests. To justify and maintain this stance, he should have bolstered his fleet, which had gained prestige from its victories. Instead, financial difficulties stemming from extravagance and his domestic policies led him to allow the fleet to deteriorate; many ships were decommissioned. He quickly accepted a viewpoint that fit with his financial woes, a viewpoint that has had supporters throughout maritime history and should be noted and criticized here. This perspective, strongly opposed by Monk, was:—
"That as the Dutch were chiefly supported by trade, as the supply of their navy depended upon trade, and, as experience showed, nothing provoked the people so much as injuring their trade, his Majesty should therefore apply himself to this, which would effectually humble them, at the same time that it would less exhaust the English than fitting out such mighty fleets as had hitherto kept the sea every summer.... Upon these motives the king took a fatal resolution of laying up his great ships and keeping only a few frigates on the cruise."[38]
"Since the Dutch relied mainly on trade and their navy's supplies depended on it, and as experience showed that nothing angered the people more than harming their trade, the king should focus on this, which would effectively humble them while being less costly for the English than sending out massive fleets every summer. For these reasons, the king made the unfortunate decision to dock his large ships and only keep a few frigates on patrol."[38]
In consequence of this economical theory of carrying on a war, the Grand Pensionary of Holland, De Witt, who had the year before caused soundings of the Thames to be made, [132]sent into the river, under De Ruyter, a force of sixty or seventy ships-of-the-line, which on the 14th of June, 1667, went up as high as Gravesend, destroying ships at Chatham and in the Medway, and taking possession of Sheerness. The light of the fires could be seen from London, and the Dutch fleet remained in possession of the mouth of the river until the end of the month. Under this blow, following as it did upon the great plague and the great fire of London, Charles consented to peace, which was signed July 31, 1667, and is known as the Peace of Breda. The most lasting result of the war was the transfer of New York and New Jersey to England, thus joining her northern and southern colonies in North America.
As a result of this cost-effective approach to waging war, the Grand Pensionary of Holland, De Witt, who had previously ordered soundings of the Thames, [132]sent a fleet of sixty or seventy warships under De Ruyter into the river. On June 14, 1667, they advanced as far as Gravesend, destroying ships at Chatham and in the Medway, and taking control of Sheerness. The fires' glow was visible from London, and the Dutch fleet held the mouth of the river until the end of the month. Following this blow, which came after the great plague and the great fire of London, Charles agreed to peace, which was signed on July 31, 1667, known as the Peace of Breda. The most significant outcome of the war was the transfer of New York and New Jersey to England, connecting her northern and southern colonies in North America.
Before going on again with the general course of the history of the times, it will be well to consider for a moment the theory which worked so disastrously for England in 1667; that, namely, of maintaining a sea-war mainly by preying upon the enemy's commerce. This plan, which involves only the maintenance of a few swift cruisers and can be backed by the spirit of greed in a nation, fitting out privateers without direct expense to the State, possesses the specious attractions which economy always presents. The great injury done to the wealth and prosperity of the enemy is also undeniable; and although to some extent his merchant-ships can shelter themselves ignobly under a foreign flag while the war lasts, this guerre de course, as the French call it, this commerce-destroying, to use our own phrase, must, if in itself successful, greatly embarrass the foreign government and distress its people. Such a war, however, cannot stand alone; it must be supported, to use the military phrase; unsubstantial and evanescent in itself, it cannot reach far from its base. That base must be either home ports, or else some solid outpost of the national power, on the shore or the sea; a distant dependency or a powerful fleet. Failing such support, the cruiser can only dash out hurriedly a short distance from home, and its blows, though painful, cannot be fatal. It was not the policy of 1667, but Cromwell's powerful fleets of ships-of-the-line in [133]1652, that shut the Dutch merchantmen in their ports and caused the grass to grow in the streets of Amsterdam. When, instructed by the suffering of that time, the Dutch kept large fleets afloat through two exhausting wars, though their commerce suffered greatly, they bore up the burden of the strife against England and France united. Forty years later, Louis XIV. was driven, by exhaustion, to the policy adopted by Charles II. through parsimony. Then were the days of the great French privateers, Jean Bart, Forbin, Duguay-Trouin, Du Casse, and others. The regular fleets of the French navy were practically withdrawn from the ocean during the great War of the Spanish Succession (1702-1712). The French naval historian says:—
Before continuing with the overall history of that period, it's worth considering for a moment the strategy that ended up being a disaster for England in 1667: relying on a naval war primarily focused on attacking the enemy's trade. This approach, which requires just a few fast ships and can leverage the nation's greed by outfitting privateers without significant cost to the government, seems appealing because of its economic efficiency. The significant damage it inflicts on the enemy's wealth and prosperity is undeniable; and although, to some extent, enemy merchant ships can hide under a foreign flag during wartime, this tactic, known in French as guerre de course, or commerce destruction in our terms, must, if successful, severely challenge the foreign government and distress its citizens. However, such a war cannot stand alone; it must be supported, to use a military term; being inherently insubstantial and fleeting, it cannot operate far from its base. That base must either be home ports or a solid outpost of national power, whether on land or at sea; a distant colony or a strong fleet. Without that support, a cruiser can only venture out briefly from home, and while its strikes can be painful, they won't be deadly. It wasn't the strategy of 1667, but Cromwell's powerful line-of-battle ships in [133]1652, that trapped Dutch merchant ships in their ports and allowed grass to grow in the streets of Amsterdam. When the Dutch, learning from their suffering at that time, maintained large fleets during two taxing wars, despite heavy losses in trade, they endured the struggle against the united forces of England and France. Forty years later, Louis XIV was forced by exhaustion into the cost-cutting strategy that Charles II had adopted. During that time, there emerged prominent French privateers like Jean Bart, Forbin, Duguay-Trouin, Du Casse, and others. The regular fleets of the French navy were largely withdrawn from the ocean during the War of the Spanish Succession (1702-1712). The French naval historian notes:—
"Unable to renew the naval armaments, Louis XIV. increased the number of cruisers upon the more frequented seas, especially the Channel and the German Ocean [not far from home, it will be noticed]. In these different spots the cruisers were always in a position to intercept or hinder the movements of transports laden with troops, and of the numerous convoys carrying supplies of all kinds. In these seas, in the centre of the commercial and political world, there is always work for cruisers. Notwithstanding the difficulties they met, owing to the absence of large friendly fleets, they served advantageously the cause of the two peoples [French and Spanish]. These cruisers, in the face of the Anglo-Dutch power, needed good luck, boldness, and skill. These three conditions were not lacking to our seamen; but then, what chiefs and what captains they had!"[39]
"Unable to upgrade the naval weapons, Louis XIV increased the number of cruisers in the more busy seas, especially the Channel and the North Sea [not far from home, as you might notice]. In these areas, the cruisers were always ready to intercept or block the movements of troop-laden transports and the many convoys carrying all types of supplies. In these waters, at the heart of the commercial and political world, there is always work for cruisers. Despite the challenges they faced due to the lack of large friendly fleets, they effectively supported the interests of both nations [French and Spanish]. These cruisers, when facing the Anglo-Dutch power, required good fortune, bravery, and skill. Our sailors had no shortage of those three qualities; however, what leaders and captains did they have!"[39]
The English historian, on the other hand, while admitting how severely the people and commerce of England suffered from the cruisers, bitterly reflecting at times upon the administration, yet refers over and over again to the increasing prosperity of the whole country, and especially of its commercial part. In the preceding war, on the contrary, from 1689 to 1697, when France sent great fleets to sea and disputed the supremacy of the ocean, how different the result! The same English writer says of that time:—
The English historian, while acknowledging the significant suffering of the people and trade in England due to the cruisers, often critiques the government but keeps pointing to the growing prosperity of the entire nation, especially its commercial sector. In the previous war, from 1689 to 1697, when France launched large fleets to challenge control of the seas, the outcome was entirely different! The same English writer reflects on that period:—
"With respect to our trade it is certain that we suffered[134] infinitely more, not merely than the French, for that was to be expected from the greater number of our merchant-ships, but than we ever did in any former war.... This proceeded in great measure from the vigilance of the French, who carried on the war in a piratical way. It is out of all doubt that, taking all together, our traffic suffered excessively; our merchants were many of them ruined."[40]
"Regarding our trade, it's clear that we suffered far more than the French, which was expected due to the larger number of our merchant ships, but also more than we ever did in any previous war. This was largely due to the French's aggressive tactics, which resembled piracy. There's no doubt that, overall, our trade was severely impacted; many of our merchants faced ruin."
Macaulay says of this period: "During many months of 1693 the English trade with the Mediterranean had been interrupted almost entirely. There was no chance that a merchantman from London or Amsterdam would, if unprotected, reach the Pillars of Hercules without being boarded by a French privateer; and the protection of armed vessels was not easily obtained." Why? Because the vessels of England's navy were occupied watching the French navy, and this diversion of them from the cruisers and privateers constituted the support which a commerce-destroying war must have. A French historian, speaking of the same period in England (1696), says: "The state of the finances was deplorable; money was scarce, maritime insurance thirty per cent, the Navigation Act was virtually suspended, and the English shipping reduced to the necessity of sailing under the Swedish and Danish flags."[41] Half a century later the French government was again reduced, by long neglect of the navy, to a cruising warfare. With what results? First, the French historian says: "From June, 1756, to June, 1760, French privateers captured from the English more than twenty-five hundred merchantmen. In 1761, though France had not, so to speak, a single ship-of-the-line at sea, and though the English had taken two hundred and forty of our privateers, their comrades still took eight hundred and twelve vessels. But," he goes on to say, "the prodigious growth of the English shipping explains the number of these prizes."[42] In other words, the suffering involved to England in such numerous [135]captures, which must have caused great individual injury and discontent, did not really prevent the growing prosperity of the State and of the community at large. The English naval historian, speaking of the same period, says: "While the commerce of France was nearly destroyed, the trading-fleet of England covered the seas. Every year her commerce was increasing; the money which the war carried out was returned by the produce of her industry. Eight thousand merchant vessels were employed by the English merchants." And again, summing up the results of the war, after stating the immense amount of specie brought into the kingdom by foreign conquests, he says: "The trade of England increased gradually every year, and such a scene of national prosperity, while waging a long, bloody, and costly war, was never before shown by any people in the world." On the other hand, the historian of the French navy, speaking of an earlier phase of the same wars, says: "The English fleets, having nothing to resist them, swept the seas. Our privateers and single cruisers, having no fleet to keep down the abundance of their enemies, ran short careers. Twenty thousand French seamen lay in English prisons."[43] When, on the other hand, in the War of the American Revolution France resumed the policy of Colbert and of the early reign of Louis XIV., and kept large battle-fleets afloat, the same result again followed as in the days of Tourville. "For the first time," says the Annual Register, forgetting or ignorant of the experience of 1693, and remembering only the glories of the later wars, "English merchant-ships were driven to take refuge under foreign flags."[44] Finally, in quitting this part of the subject, it may be remarked that in the island of Martinique the French had a powerful distant dependency upon which to base a cruising warfare; and during the Seven Years' War, as afterward during the First Empire, it, with Guadeloupe, was the refuge of numerous privateers. "The records of the English admiralty raise the losses of the English in the West Indies during the first years of the Seven Years' War to fourteen hundred [136]merchantmen taken or destroyed." The English fleet was therefore directed against the islands, both of which fell, involving a loss to the trade of France greater than all the depredations of her cruisers on the English commerce, besides breaking up the system; but in the war of 1778 the great fleets protected the islands, which were not even threatened at any time.
Macaulay describes this period: "For many months in 1693, England's trade with the Mediterranean was almost completely cut off. There was no way that a merchant ship from London or Amsterdam could reach the Pillars of Hercules unescorted without being intercepted by a French privateer, and securing protection from armed vessels was not easy." Why? Because England's navy was tied up watching the French navy, and this diversion from the cruisers and privateers was essential for a war aimed at disrupting commerce. A French historian, discussing the same period in England (1696), states: "The financial situation was dire; money was scarce, maritime insurance was thirty percent, the Navigation Act was essentially suspended, and English shipping had no choice but to sail under Swedish and Danish flags."[41] Half a century later, the French government found itself again resorting to cruise warfare due to long neglect of the navy. With what outcome? First, the French historian notes: "From June 1756 to June 1760, French privateers captured over twenty-five hundred English merchant ships. In 1761, even though France had virtually no ships of the line at sea and the English had captured two hundred and forty of our privateers, our privateers still managed to seize eight hundred and twelve vessels. However," he continues, "the immense growth of English shipping accounts for the number of these captures."[42] In other words, the damage done to England through so many captures, which must have caused considerable individual harm and dissatisfaction, did not really hinder the expanding prosperity of the nation or the wider community. An English naval historian commenting on this same period says: "While France's commerce was nearly wiped out, England's trading fleet was thriving on the seas. Every year, her commerce grew; the wealth taken from the war was replenished by her productive industry. Eight thousand merchant vessels were employed by English merchants." He further summarizes the war's outcomes, stating: "The trade of England increased steadily each year, and such a showcase of national prosperity during a long, bloody, and costly war had never been seen by any nation in the world." On the flip side, the historian of the French navy, discussing an earlier phase of the same conflicts, says: "The English fleets, facing no opposition, dominated the seas. Our privateers and individual cruisers, lacking a fleet to keep their enemies in check, had brief operations. Twenty thousand French sailors were imprisoned by the English."[43] Conversely, during the War of the American Revolution, France returned to the strategies of Colbert and the early reign of Louis XIV., maintaining large battle fleets, which again led to results similar to those of Tourville's time. "For the first time," states the Annual Register, either forgetting or unaware of the events of 1693, and recalling only the victories of later wars, "English merchant ships were forced to seek refuge under foreign flags."[44] Lastly, it should be noted that the island of Martinique served as a strong overseas base for the French to conduct cruise warfare; and during the Seven Years' War, as well as during the First Empire, it, along with Guadeloupe, became a haven for many privateers. "Records from the English admiralty estimate that during the early years of the Seven Years' War, the English lost fourteen hundred [136]merchant ships to capture or destruction in the West Indies." Consequently, the English fleet targeted the islands, both of which fell, resulting in a loss to French trade greater than all the damage inflicted by her privateers on English commerce, and disrupting the entire system; however, in the war of 1778, the large fleets protected the islands, which were never threatened at any point.
So far we have been viewing the effect of a purely cruising warfare, not based upon powerful squadrons, only upon that particular part of the enemy's strength against which it is theoretically directed,—upon his commerce and general wealth; upon the sinews of war. The evidence seems to show that even for its own special ends such a mode of war is inconclusive, worrying but not deadly; it might almost be said that it causes needless suffering. What, however, is the effect of this policy upon the general ends of the war, to which it is one of the means, and to which it is subsidiary? How, again, does it react upon the people that practise it? As the historical evidences will come up in detail from time to time, it need here only be summarized. The result to England in the days of Charles II. has been seen,—her coast insulted, her shipping burned almost within sight of her capital. In the War of the Spanish Succession, when the control of Spain was the military object, while the French depended upon a cruising war against commerce, the navies of England and Holland, unopposed, guarded the coasts of the peninsula, blocked the port of Toulon, forced the French succors to cross the Pyrenees, and by keeping open the sea highway, neutralized the geographical nearness of France to the seat of war. Their fleets seized Gibraltar, Barcelona, and Minorca, and co-operating with the Austrian army failed by little of reducing Toulon. In the Seven Years' War the English fleets seized, or aided in seizing, all the most valuable colonies of France and Spain, and made frequent descents on the French coast. The War of the American Revolution affords no lesson, the fleets being nearly equal. The next most striking instance to Americans is the War of 1812. Everybody knows how our [137]privateers swarmed over the seas, and that from the smallness of our navy the war was essentially, indeed solely, a cruising war. Except upon the lakes, it is doubtful if more than two of our ships at any time acted together. The injury done to English commerce, thus unexpectedly attacked by a distant foe which had been undervalued, may be fully conceded; but on the one hand, the American cruisers were powerfully supported by the French fleet, which being assembled in larger or smaller bodies in the many ports under the emperor's control from Antwerp to Venice, tied the fleets of England to blockade duty; and on the other hand, when the fall of the emperor released them, our coasts were insulted in every direction, the Chesapeake entered and controlled, its shores wasted, the Potomac ascended, and Washington burned. The Northern frontier was kept in a state of alarm, though there squadrons, absolutely weak but relatively strong, sustained the general defence; while in the South the Mississippi was entered unopposed, and New Orleans barely saved. When negotiations for peace were opened, the bearing of the English toward the American envoys was not that of men who felt their country to be threatened with an unbearable evil. The late Civil War, with the cruises of the "Alabama" and "Sumter" and their consorts, revived the tradition of commerce-destroying. In so far as this is one means to a general end, and is based upon a navy otherwise powerful, it is well; but we need not expect to see the feats of those ships repeated in the face of a great sea power. In the first place, those cruises were powerfully supported by the determination of the United States to blockade, not only the chief centres of Southern trade, but every inlet of the coast, thus leaving few ships available for pursuit; in the second place, had there been ten of those cruisers where there was one, they would not have stopped the incursion in Southern waters of the Union fleet, which penetrated to every point accessible from the sea; and in the third place, the undeniable injury, direct and indirect, inflicted upon individuals and upon one branch of the nation's industry (and how high that shipping [138]industry stands in the writer's estimation need not be repeated), did not in the least influence or retard the event of the war. Such injuries, unaccompanied by others, are more irritating than weakening. On the other hand, will any refuse to admit that the work of the great Union fleets powerfully modified and hastened an end which was probably inevitable in any case? As a sea power the South then occupied the place of France in the wars we have been considering, while the situation of the North resembled that of England; and, as in France, the sufferers in the Confederacy were not a class, but the government and the nation at large. It is not the taking of individual ships or convoys, be they few or many, that strikes down the money power of a nation; it is the possession of that overbearing power on the sea which drives the enemy's flag from it, or allows it to appear only as a fugitive; and which, by controlling the great common, closes the highways by which commerce moves to and from the enemy's shores. This overbearing power can only be exercised by great navies, and by them (on the broad sea) less efficiently now than in the days when the neutral flag had not its present immunity. It is not unlikely that, in the event of a war between maritime nations, an attempt may be made by the one having a great sea power and wishing to break down its enemy's commerce, to interpret the phrase "effective blockade" in the manner that best suits its interests at the time; to assert that the speed and disposal of its ships make the blockade effective at much greater distances and with fewer ships than formerly. The determination of such a question will depend, not upon the weaker belligerent, but upon neutral powers; it will raise the issue between belligerent and neutral rights; and if the belligerent have a vastly overpowering navy he may carry his point, just as England, when possessing the mastery of the seas, long refused to admit the doctrine of the neutral flag covering the goods.
So far, we've been looking at the impact of a type of naval warfare focused on cruising rather than strong fleets, targeting specifically that part of the enemy's power it theoretically aims at—his commerce and overall wealth; in other words, the resources for war. The evidence suggests that this method of warfare is ineffective for its intended purposes, causing annoyance but not delivering a decisive blow; it's almost fair to say it leads to unnecessary suffering. However, what is the overall effect of this strategy on the broader goals of the war, which it supports? And how does it affect the people who implement it? While historical evidence will be provided in detail over time, we can summarize it here. The situation for England during the reign of Charles II has been noted—her coasts were insulted, and her ships were burned almost in sight of her capital. In the War of the Spanish Succession, when controlling Spain was the military objective, while the French relied on commerce raiding, the navies of England and Holland, without opposition, secured the coast of the peninsula, blocked the port of Toulon, forced French reinforcements to cross the Pyrenees, and by keeping the sea routes open, offset the geographical advantage of France being close to the battlefield. Their fleets captured Gibraltar, Barcelona, and Minorca, and in coordination with the Austrian army, came close to capturing Toulon. During the Seven Years' War, English fleets captured or assisted in seizing all the most valuable colonies of France and Spain and frequently landed on the French coast. The American Revolutionary War doesn't provide a lesson since the fleets were nearly equal. The next notable instance for Americans is the War of 1812. Everyone knows how our [137] privateers were everywhere at sea, and given the small size of our navy, the war was essentially, and indeed solely, a cruising war. Except on the lakes, it's doubtful that more than two of our ships ever acted together at any point. The damage inflicted on English commerce, unexpectedly attacked by a distant and underestimated opponent, can be fully acknowledged. However, on the one hand, the American cruisers were significantly supported by the French fleet, which was gathered in varying numbers in many ports controlled by the emperor from Antwerp to Venice, tying English fleets to blockade duties. On the other hand, when the emperor's downfall released them, our coasts faced insults from every direction; the Chesapeake Bay was entered and controlled, its shores devastated, the Potomac River was navigated, and Washington was burned. The Northern border remained on edge, though weak squadrons relative to the overall defense were present; meanwhile, in the South, the Mississippi River was entered unopposed, and New Orleans was barely saved. When peace negotiations began, the demeanor of the English towards the American envoys didn't reflect a country facing an intolerable threat. The recent Civil War, marked by the "Alabama" and "Sumter" and their peers, revived the tradition of commerce destruction. As this serves as one means to a broader goal, and is based on a fortuitously powerful navy, it’s acceptable; but we shouldn't expect to see those ships achieve similar feats against a significant naval power. Primarily, those cruises were significantly supported by the United States' decision to blockade not just the main centers of Southern trade, but every coastal inlet, leaving few ships available for pursuit. Secondly, even if there had been ten of those cruisers for every one, they still wouldn’t have halted the movement of the Union fleet into Southern waters, which made it to any accessible point from the sea. And thirdly, the undeniable direct and indirect harm caused to individuals and one sector of the nation's industry (the importance of which in shipping [138] need not be reiterated) did not influence or slow the course of the war. Such damages, by themselves, are more irritating than crippling. However, would anyone deny that the actions of the great Union fleets significantly altered and expedited an outcome that was probably inevitable anyway? As a naval power, the South then assumed a role similar to that of France in the wars we've discussed, while the North's positioning mirrored that of England; and, as was the case in France, the anguish felt in the Confederacy extended beyond a single class to encompass the government and the entire nation. It's not about capturing individual ships or convoys, whether few or many, that truly weakens a nation's financial power; it's the dominance at sea that drives the enemy's flag away or reduces it to mere fleeting appearances; and by controlling the vast ocean, it blocks the routes through which commerce travels to and from enemy shores. This dominance can only be enforced by large navies, and even they are less effective today than in the days when neutral flags enjoyed less immunity. It’s not unlikely that, in a war between maritime nations, a nation with considerable naval power may try to redefine "effective blockade" to suit its interests, claiming that its ships' speed and flexibility make the blockade effective over much greater distances and with fewer vessels than before. Determining such a question won’t depend on the weaker power, but rather on neutral nations; it will challenge the balance between combatant and neutral rights; if the belligerent possesses a vastly superior navy, it may prevail, just as England, when it commanded the seas, long refused to accept the idea that neutral flags offered protection for goods.
FOOTNOTES:
[16] Davies: History of Holland.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Davies: History of Holland.
[17] République d'Angleterre.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Republic of England.
[18] Lefèvre-Pontalis: Jean de Witt.
[19] Martin: History of France.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Martin: History of France.
[20] Gougeard: Marine de Guerre.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gougeard: Warship.
[21] Since the above was written, the experience of the English autumn manœuvres of 1888 has verified this statement; not indeed that any such experiment was needed to establish a self-evident fact.
[21] Since this was written, the English autumn maneuvers of 1888 have confirmed this statement; not that any such experiment was necessary to prove an obvious fact.
[23] The recent development of rapid-firing and machine guns, with the great increase of their calibre and consequent range and penetration, reproduces this same step in the cycle of progress.
[23] The recent advancements in rapid-firing and machine guns, along with the significant increase in their caliber and resulting range and penetration, reflect the same stage in the cycle of progress.
[24] Gougeard: Marine de Guerre.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gougeard: Warship.
[25] Vol. lxxxii. p. 137.
[28] Plate I., June 11, 1666, Fig. 1. V, van; C, centre; R, rear: in this part of the action the Dutch order was inverted, so that the actual van was the proper rear. The great number of ships engaged in the fleet actions of these Anglo-Dutch wars make it impossible to represent each ship and at the same time preserve clearness in the plans. Each figure of a ship therefore represents a group more or less numerous.
[28] Plate I., June 11, 1666, Fig. 1. V, van; C, center; R, rear: during this part of the action, the Dutch order was reversed, so that the actual front was the designated rear. The large number of ships involved in the fleet actions of these Anglo-Dutch wars makes it impossible to depict each ship while still maintaining clarity in the plans. Therefore, each ship figure represents a group that varies in size.
[29] Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
[32] Fig. 1, V, C, R. This result was probably due simply to the greater weatherliness of the English ships. It would perhaps be more accurate to say that the Dutch had sagged to leeward so that they drifted through the English line.
[32] Fig. 1, V, C, R. This outcome was likely just because the English ships were more weather-resistant. It might be more precise to say that the Dutch had veered off course, causing them to drift through the English line.
[33] Lefèvre-Pontalis. Jean de Witt.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lefèvre-Pontalis. Jean de Witt.
[36] The true significance of this change has often been misunderstood, and hence erroneous inferences as to the future have been drawn. It was not a case of the new displacing the old, but of the military element in a military organization asserting its necessary and inevitable control over all other functions.
[36] The real meaning of this change has often been misunderstood, leading to incorrect conclusions about the future. This wasn’t about the new replacing the old; it was about the military aspect within a military organization taking its essential and unavoidable control over all other functions.
[38] Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
[40] Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
[41] Martin: History of France.
[42] Martin: History of France.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Martin: History of France.
[43] Lapeyrouse-Bonfils.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lapeyrouse-Bonfils.
CHAPTER III.ToC
War of England and France in Alliance against the United Provinces, 1672-1674.—Finally, of France against Combined Europe, 1674-1678.—Sea Battles of Solebay, the Texel, and Stromboli.
War of England and France in alliance against the United Provinces, 1672-1674.—Finally, of France against combined Europe, 1674-1678.—Sea battles of Solebay, the Texel, and Stromboli.
Shortly before the conclusion of the Peace of Breda, Louis XIV. made his first step toward seizing parts of the Spanish Netherlands and Franche Comté. At the same time that his armies moved forward, he sent out a State paper setting forth his claims upon the territories in question. This paper showed unmistakably the ambitious character of the young king, roused the anxiety of Europe, and doubtless increased the strength of the peace party in England. Under the leadership of Holland, but with the hearty co-operation of the English minister, an alliance was formed between the two countries and Sweden, hitherto the friend of France, to check Louis' advance before his power became too great. The attack first on the Netherlands in 1667, and then on Franche Comté in 1668, showed the hopeless weakness of Spain to defend her possessions; they fell almost without a blow.
Shortly before the end of the Peace of Breda, Louis XIV took his first steps to take control of parts of the Spanish Netherlands and Franche Comté. As his armies advanced, he released a government document outlining his claims to the disputed territories. This document clearly reflected the ambitious nature of the young king, stirred concerns across Europe, and likely strengthened the peace faction in England. Under the leadership of Holland, and with the strong support of the English minister, an alliance was formed between the two countries and Sweden, which had previously been an ally of France, to stop Louis before his power grew too large. The assaults began with the Netherlands in 1667 and continued with Franche Comté in 1668, exposing Spain's inability to defend her territories; they fell almost without resistance.
The policy of the United Provinces, relative to the claims of Louis at this time, was summed up in the phrase that "France was good as a friend, but not as a neighbor." They were unwilling to break their traditional alliance, but still more unwilling to have her on their border. The policy of the English people, though not of their king, turned toward the Dutch. In the increased greatness of Louis they saw danger to all Europe; to themselves more especially if, by a settled preponderance on the continent, his hands were free to develop his sea power. "Flanders once in the power of Louis XIV.," wrote the [140]English ambassador Temple, "the Dutch feel that their country will be only a maritime province of France;" and sharing that opinion, "he advocated the policy of resistance to the latter country, whose domination in the Low Countries he considered as a threatened subjection of all Europe. He never ceased to represent to his government how dangerous to England would be the conquest of the sea provinces by France, and he urgently pointed out the need of a prompt understanding with the Dutch. 'This would be the best revenge,' said he, 'for the trick France has played us in involving us in the last war with the United Provinces.'" These considerations brought the two countries together in that Triple Alliance with Sweden which has been mentioned, and which for a time checked the onward movement of Louis. But the wars between the two sea nations were too recent, the humiliation of England in the Thames too bitter, and the rivalries that still existed too real, too deeply seated in the nature of things, to make that alliance durable. It needed the dangerous power of Louis, and his persistence in a course threatening to both, to weld the union of these natural antagonists. This was not to be done without another bloody encounter.
The policy of the United Provinces regarding Louis' claims at this time was summed up in the phrase that "France is good as a friend, but not as a neighbor." They were hesitant to break their traditional alliance, but even more reluctant to have France on their border. The policy of the English people, though not of their king, leaned towards the Dutch. In Louis’ growing power, they saw a threat to all of Europe; especially to themselves, if he could establish dominance on the continent and then focus on building his naval strength. "If Flanders falls under Louis XIV.," wrote the [140] English ambassador Temple, "the Dutch believe their country will become just a maritime province of France;" and sharing that view, "he supported the idea of resisting France, whose control over the Low Countries he saw as a looming subjugation of all Europe. He continuously warned his government about how dangerous it would be for England if France conquered the sea provinces, and he stressed the urgency of reaching an agreement with the Dutch. 'This would be the best revenge,' he said, 'for the trick France pulled on us by dragging us into the last war with the United Provinces.'" These concerns brought the two countries together in the mentioned Triple Alliance with Sweden, which temporarily slowed down Louis’ advances. However, the recent wars between the two maritime nations, England's bitter humiliation in the Thames, and the deeply rooted rivalries made that alliance fragile. It took the threatening power of Louis and his ongoing aggressive actions towards both nations to unite these natural enemies. This would not happen without another bloody clash.
Louis was deeply angered at the Triple Alliance, and his wrath was turned mainly upon Holland, in which from the necessities of her position he recognized his most steadfast opponent. For the time, however, he seemed to yield; the more readily because of the probable approaching failure of the Spanish royal line, and the ambition he had of getting more than merely the territory lying to the east of France, when the throne became vacant. But, though he dissembled and yielded, from that time he set his mind upon the destruction of the republic. This policy was directly contrary to that laid down by Richelieu, and to the true welfare of France. It was to England's interest, at least just then, that the United Provinces should not be trodden down by France; but it was much more to the interest of France that they should not be subjected to England. England, free from the continent, might stand alone upon the seas contending with [141]France; but France, hampered by her continental politics, could not hope to wrest the control of the seas from England without an ally. This ally Louis proposed to destroy, and he asked England to help him. The final result is already known, but the outlines of the contest must now be followed.
Louis was really angry about the Triple Alliance, and his main frustration was directed at Holland, which he saw as his strongest opponent due to its strategic position. For a while, though, he seemed to back down, especially since the Spanish royal line was likely about to fail, and he hoped to gain more than just the land east of France when the throne became vacant. However, even as he pretended to yield, he secretly focused on destroying the republic from that point on. This strategy went against what Richelieu had planned and wasn't in France's best interest. At that time, it was actually in England's interest that the United Provinces weren't crushed by France, but it was even more important for France that they weren't controlled by England. England could operate independently on the seas against France, but France, bogged down by its continental politics, couldn't hope to gain control of the seas from England without an ally. Louis aimed to eliminate this ally and asked England for help. The final outcome is already known, but we need to look at the details of the conflict now.
Before the royal purpose had passed into action, and while there was still time to turn the energies of France into another channel, a different course was proposed to the king. This was the project of Leibnitz, before spoken of, which has special interest for our subject because, in proposing to reverse the lines which Louis then laid down, to make continental expansion secondary and growth beyond the sea the primary object of France, the tendency avowedly and necessarily was to base the greatness of the country upon the control of the sea and of commerce. The immediate object offered to the France of that day, with the attainment of which, however, she could not have stopped short, was the conquest of Egypt; that country which, facing both the Mediterranean and Eastern seas, gave control of the great commercial route which in our own day has been completed by the Suez Canal. That route had lost much of its value by the discovery of the way round the Cape of Good Hope, and yet more by the unsettled and piratical conditions of the seas through which it lay; but with a really strong naval power occupying the key of the position it might have been largely restored. Such a power posted in Egypt would, in the already decaying condition of the Ottoman Empire, have controlled the trade not only of India and the far East, but also of the Levant; but the enterprise could not have stopped there. The necessity of mastering the Mediterranean and opening the Red Sea, closed to Christian vessels by Mohammedan bigotry, would have compelled the occupation of stations on either side of Egypt; and France would have been led step by step, as England has been led by the possession of India, to the seizure of points like Malta, Cyprus, Aden, in short, to a great sea power. That is clear now; but it will be interesting to hear the arguments [142]by which Leibnitz sought to convince the French king two hundred years ago.
Before the royal plans were put into action, and while there was still a chance to redirect France's efforts, a different strategy was suggested to the king. This was Leibnitz’s proposal, which is particularly relevant to our topic because it aimed to reverse Louis’s established priorities, making overseas expansion the main goal for France while viewing continental growth as secondary. The primary immediate aim for France at that time was the conquest of Egypt—a country that, located between the Mediterranean and Eastern seas, controlled a key trade route that is now known for the Suez Canal. Although this route had diminished in value after the discovery of the passage around the Cape of Good Hope, and even more so due to the piracy and instability in the waters it traversed, a strong naval force stationed in Egypt could have restored its significance. With such power in Egypt, amidst the declining Ottoman Empire, France could have dominated trade not just with India and the Far East, but also with the Levant. However, this endeavor couldn't have ended there. The need to control the Mediterranean and access the Red Sea, which was closed to Christian ships due to Muslim prejudice, would have necessitated the establishment of outposts on both sides of Egypt. Consequently, France would have gradually followed a path similar to England's conquest of India, leading to the acquisition of strategic locations like Malta, Cyprus, and Aden—effectively developing into a major sea power. While this is evident now, it would be fascinating to hear the arguments [142] that Leibnitz used to persuade the French king two hundred years ago.
After pointing out the weakness of the Turkish Empire, and the readiness with which it might be further embarrassed by stirring up Austria and Poland, the latter the traditional ally of France; after showing that France had no armed enemy in the Mediterranean, and that on the other side of Egypt she would meet the Portuguese colonies, longing to obtain protection against the Dutch in India, the memorial proceeds:—
After highlighting the vulnerabilities of the Turkish Empire and how easily it could be troubled by provoking Austria and Poland, the latter being France's long-standing ally; after demonstrating that France faced no military threat in the Mediterranean, and that to the east of Egypt, she would encounter the Portuguese colonies eager for protection against the Dutch in India, the document continues:—
"The conquest of Egypt, that Holland of the East, is infinitely easier than that of the United Provinces. France needs peace in the west, war at a distance. War with Holland will probably ruin the new Indian companies as well as the colonies and commerce lately revived by France, and will increase the burdens of the people while diminishing their resources. The Dutch will retire into their maritime towns, stand there on the defensive in perfect safety, and assume the offensive on the sea with great chance of success. If France does not obtain a complete victory over them, she loses all her influence in Europe, and by victory she endangers that influence. In Egypt, on the contrary, a repulse, almost impossible, will be of no great consequence, and victory will give the dominion of the seas, the commerce of the East and of India, the preponderance in Christendom, and even the empire of the East on the ruins of the Ottoman power. The possession of Egypt opens the way to conquests worthy of Alexander; the extreme weakness of the Orientals is no longer a secret. Whoever has Egypt will have all the coasts and islands of the Indian Ocean. It is in Egypt that Holland will be conquered; it is there she will be despoiled of what alone renders her prosperous, the treasures of the East. She will be struck without being able to ward off the blow. Should she wish to oppose the designs of France upon Egypt, she would be overwhelmed with the universal hatred of Christians; attacked at home, on the contrary, not only could she ward off the aggression, but she could avenge herself sustained by universal public opinion, which suspects the views of France of ambition."[45]
"The conquest of Egypt, the Holland of the East, is way easier than taking over the United Provinces. France needs peace in the west and a fight further away. War with Holland could ruin the new Indian companies, as well as the colonies and trade that France has recently revived, increasing the struggles of the people while reducing their resources. The Dutch will retreat to their coastal cities, staying safe on the defensive and launching attacks at sea with a good chance of winning. If France doesn’t totally defeat them, it will lose all its influence in Europe, and even if it wins, it risks that influence. In Egypt, however, a setback, which is almost impossible, won’t matter much, and winning would grant control of the seas, trade in the East and India, dominance in Christendom, and even the eastern empire on the crumbling foundation of Ottoman power. Owning Egypt opens the door to conquests worthy of Alexander; the extreme weakness of the Eastern nations is now clear. Whoever controls Egypt will dominate all the coasts and islands of the Indian Ocean. This is where Holland will be conquered; here she will lose what makes her wealthy, the treasures of the East. She will be struck without the ability to defend herself. If she tries to block France’s ambitions in Egypt, she will face the collective hatred of Christians; but if attacked at home, she could not only defend against the attack but also take revenge, backed by public opinion that is suspicious of France’s ambitions." [45]
The memorial had no effect. "All that the efforts of ambition and human prudence could do to lay the foundations for the destruction of a nation, Louis XIV. now did. [143]Diplomatic strategy on a vast scale was displayed in order to isolate and hem in Holland. Louis, who had been unable to make Europe accept the conquest of Belgium by France, now hoped to induce it to see without trembling the fall of Holland." His efforts were in the main successful. The Triple Alliance was broken; the King of England, though contrary to the wishes of his people, made an offensive alliance with Louis; and Holland, when the war began, found herself without an ally in Europe, except the worn-out kingdom of Spain and the Elector of Brandenburg, then by no means a first-class State. But in order to obtain the help of Charles II., Louis not only engaged to pay him large sums of money, but also to give to England, from the spoils of Holland and Belgium, Walcheren, Sluys, and Cadsand, and even the islands of Goree and Voorn; the control, that is, of the mouths of the great commercial rivers the Scheldt and the Meuse. With regard to the united fleets of the two nations, it was agreed that the officer bearing the admiral's flag of England should command in chief. The question of naval precedence was reserved, by not sending the admiral of France afloat; but it was practically yielded. It is evident that in his eagerness for the ruin of Holland and his own continental aggrandizement Louis was playing directly into England's hand, as to power on the sea. A French historian is justified in saying: "These negotiations have been wrongly judged. It has been often repeated that Charles sold England to Louis XIV. This is true only of internal policy. Charles indeed plotted the political and religious subjugation of England with the help of a foreign power; but as to external interests, he did not sell them, for the greater share in the profit from the ruin of the Dutch was to go to England."[46]
The memorial had no impact. "Everything that ambition and human strategy could do to lay the groundwork for the destruction of a nation, Louis XIV. achieved. [143]He displayed a grand diplomatic strategy aimed at isolating and cornering Holland. Louis, unable to convince Europe to accept France's conquest of Belgium, now hoped to make them witness Holland's fall without fear." His efforts were mostly successful. The Triple Alliance fell apart; the King of England, despite his people's wishes, formed an offensive alliance with Louis; and when the war started, Holland found herself without any allies in Europe, except the exhausted kingdom of Spain and the Elector of Brandenburg, which was not a top-tier state at that time. To gain the support of Charles II., Louis not only agreed to pay him substantial sums of money but also promised England, from the spoils of Holland and Belgium, Walcheren, Sluys, and Cadsand, as well as the islands of Goree and Voorn; essentially gaining control over the mouths of the major commercial rivers, the Scheldt and the Meuse. Regarding the combined fleets of both nations, it was agreed that the officer flying the English admiral's flag would be in command. The issue of naval precedence was set aside by not sending the French admiral into action, but it was largely conceded. It’s clear that in his eagerness for Holland’s downfall and his continental expansion, Louis was playing right into England's hands concerning naval power. A French historian rightly pointed out: "These negotiations have been misunderstood. It has often been claimed that Charles sold England to Louis XIV. This is only true for internal policy. Charles did indeed plot the political and religious subjugation of England with the help of a foreign power; however, regarding external interests, he didn’t sell them, as the majority of the gains from the downfall of the Dutch were meant for England."[46]
During the years preceding the war the Dutch made every diplomatic effort to avert it, but the hatred of Charles and Louis prevented any concession being accepted as final. An English royal yacht was ordered to pass through the Dutch ships-of-war in the Channel, and to fire on them if they did [144]not strike their flags. In January, 1672, England sent an ultimatum, summoning Holland to acknowledge the right of the English crown to the sovereignty of the British seas, and to order its fleets to lower their flags to the smallest English man-of-war; and demands such as these received the support of a French king. The Dutch continued to yield, but seeing at length that all concessions were useless, they in February ordered into commission seventy-five ships-of-the-line, besides smaller vessels. On the 23d of March the English, without declaration of war, attacked a fleet of Dutch merchantmen; and on the 29th the king declared war. This was followed, April 6th, by the declaration of Louis XIV.; and on the 28th of the same month he set out to take command in person of his army.
In the years leading up to the war, the Dutch made every diplomatic effort to prevent it, but the animosity between Charles and Louis made it impossible to accept any concession as final. An English royal yacht was ordered to sail through the Dutch warships in the Channel and to open fire if they did [144]not lower their flags. In January 1672, England sent an ultimatum demanding that Holland recognize the English crown's sovereignty over the British seas and instruct its fleets to lower their flags to the smallest English warship; such demands had the backing of the French king. The Dutch kept making concessions, but eventually realized that all their efforts were futile, so in February, they commissioned seventy-five ships of the line, along with smaller vessels. On March 23, the English attacked a fleet of Dutch merchant ships without declaring war, and on March 29, the king declared war. This was followed by Louis XIV’s declaration on April 6, and on April 28, he set out to take command of his army in person.
The war which now began, including the third and last of the great contests between the English and Dutch upon the ocean, was not, like those before it, purely a sea war; and it will be necessary to mention its leading outlines on the land also, not only in order to clearness of impression, but also to bring out the desperate straits to which the republic was reduced, and the final deliverance through its sea power in the hands of the great seaman De Ruyter.
The war that started now, marking the third and final major conflict between the English and the Dutch at sea, was not just a naval war like the earlier ones. It's important to highlight its main aspects on land as well, both for clarity and to show the desperate situation the republic found itself in and its eventual rescue through naval strength with the legendary sailor De Ruyter at the helm.
The naval war differs from those that preceded it in more than one respect; but its most distinctive feature is that the Dutch, except on one occasion at the very beginning, did not send out their fleet to meet the enemy, but made what may properly be called a strategic use of their dangerous coast and shoals, upon which were based their sea operations. To this course they were forced by the desperate odds under which they were fighting; but they did not use their shoals as a mere shelter,—the warfare they waged was the defensive-offensive. When the wind was fair for the allies to attack, Ruyter kept under cover of his islands, or at least on ground where the enemy dared not follow; but when the wind served so that he might attack in his own way, he turned and fell upon them. There are also apparent indications of tactical combinations, on his part, of a higher order than have yet [145]been met; though it is possible that the particular acts referred to, consisting in partial attacks amounting to little more than demonstrations against the French contingent, may have sprung from political motives. This solution for the undoubted fact that the Dutch attacked the French lightly has not been met with elsewhere by the writer; but it seems possible that the rulers of the United Provinces may have wished not to increase the exasperation of their most dangerous enemy by humiliating his fleet, and so making it less easy to his pride to accept their offers. There is, however, an equally satisfactory military explanation in the supposition that, the French being yet inexperienced, Ruyter thought it only necessary to contain them while falling in force upon the English. The latter fought throughout with their old gallantry, but less than their old discipline; whereas the attacks of the Dutch were made with a sustained and unanimous vigor that showed a great military advance. The action of the French was at times suspicious; it has been alleged that Louis ordered his admiral to economize his fleet, and there is good reason to believe that toward the end of the two years that England remained in his alliance he did do so.
The naval war was different from earlier ones in several ways, but the most notable difference was that the Dutch, except for one instance at the very start, didn’t send their fleet out to confront the enemy. Instead, they strategically used their hazardous coast and shallows as the foundation for their naval operations. They were forced into this approach due to the overwhelming odds they faced; however, they didn’t just use their shoals for protection—their strategy was a mix of defense and offense. When the wind was favorable for the allies to launch an attack, Ruyter stayed hidden behind his islands or at least in areas where the enemy wouldn't dare to follow. But when the wind shifted and gave him the chance to attack on his terms, he struck back. There are also signs of tactical combinations on his part that are more advanced than what has been encountered so far; although it’s possible that the specific maneuvers referred to, which consisted of partial attacks that were mostly just demonstrations against the French contingent, were influenced by political motivations. This interpretation of the clear fact that the Dutch launched light attacks against the French hasn’t appeared anywhere else in the writer’s accounts, but it seems plausible that the leaders of the United Provinces may have wanted to avoid provoking their most formidable opponent by humiliating his fleet, making it harder for his pride to accept their proposals. Nonetheless, a valid military explanation could also be that, since the French were relatively inexperienced, Ruyter thought it was only necessary to keep them in check while launching a stronger attack on the English. The English fought with their usual bravery, but their discipline lessened; on the other hand, the Dutch attacks were carried out with consistent and united strength, showing notable advancements in military capability. The French actions were sometimes questionable; it's been suggested that Louis instructed his admiral to conserve his fleet, and there is strong evidence that, toward the end of the two years England remained in his alliance, he did just that.
The authorities of the United Provinces, knowing that the French fleet at Brest was to join the English in the Thames, made great exertions to fit out their squadron so as to attack the latter before the junction was made; but the wretched lack of centralization in their naval administration caused this project to fail. The province of Zealand was so backward that its contingent, a large fraction of the whole, was not ready in time; and it has been charged that the delay was due, not merely to mismanagement, but to disaffection to the party in control of the government. A blow at the English fleet in its own waters, by a superior force, before its ally arrived, was a correct military conception; judging from the after-history of this war, it might well have produced a profound effect upon the whole course of the struggle. Ruyter finally got to sea and fell in with the allied fleets, but though [146]fully intending to fight, fell back before them to his own coast. The allies did not follow him there, but retired, apparently in full security, to Southwold Bay, on the east coast of England, some ninety miles north of the mouth of the Thames. There they anchored in three divisions,—two English, the rear and centre of the allied line, to the northward, and the van, composed of French ships, to the southward. Ruyter followed them, and on the early morning of June 7, 1672, the Dutch fleet was signalled by a French lookout frigate in the northward and eastward; standing down before a northeast wind for the allied fleet, from which a large number of boats and men were ashore in watering parties. The Dutch order of battle was in two lines, the advanced one containing eighteen ships with fire-ships (Plate III., A). Their total force was ninety-one ships-of-the-line; that of the allies one hundred and one.
The leaders of the United Provinces, aware that the French fleet in Brest was set to join the English in the Thames, made significant efforts to prepare their squadron to strike against the English before this joined force could happen; however, the poor centralization of their naval administration led to this plan's failure. The province of Zealand lagged behind, and its contribution, which was a substantial part of the total fleet, was not ready in time. It has been suggested that the delay was not just due to mismanagement but also to dissatisfaction with the current government. Launching an attack on the English fleet in its home waters, with a stronger force before its ally arrived, was a solid military strategy; considering the later developments of this war, it could have significantly impacted the entire conflict. Ruyter eventually set sail and encountered the allied fleets, but though [146] he fully intended to engage them, he retreated back to his own coast. The allies did not pursue him there but instead returned, seemingly with complete confidence, to Southwold Bay, located on the east coast of England, about ninety miles north of the Thames mouth. They anchored in three divisions—two English, making up the rear and center of the allied line to the north, and the van, consisting of French ships, to the south. Ruyter followed them, and on the early morning of June 7, 1672, a French lookout frigate spotted the Dutch fleet in the north and east; they were heading down with a northeast wind toward the allied fleet, from which many boats and personnel were ashore on watering duty. The Dutch order of battle was arranged in two lines, with the front line composed of eighteen ships and fire-ships (Plate III., A). Their total force included ninety-one ships of the line, while the allies had one hundred and one.
The wind was blowing toward the coast, which here trends nearly north and south, and the allies were in an awkward position. They had first to get under way, and they could not fall back to gain time or room to establish their order. Most of the ships cut their cables, and the English made sail on the starboard tack, heading about north-northwest, a course which forced them soon to go about; whereas the French took the other tack (Plate III., B). The battle began therefore by the separation of the allied fleet. Ruyter sent one division to attack the French, or rather to contain them; for these opponents exchanged only a distant cannonade, although the Dutch, being to windward, had the choice of closer action if they wished it. As their commander, Bankert, was not censured, it may be supposed he acted under orders; and he was certainly in command a year later, and acting with great judgment and gallantry at the battle of the Texel. Meanwhile Ruyter fell furiously upon the two English divisions, and apparently with superior forces; for the English naval historians claim that the Dutch were in the proportion of three to two.[47] [147]If this can be accepted, it gives a marked evidence of Ruyter's high qualities as a general officer, in advance of any other who appears in this century.
The wind was blowing toward the coast, which here runs almost north and south, putting the allies in a tricky situation. They first had to get going, and they couldn't retreat to buy time or create space to set up their formation. Most of the ships cut their cables, and the English set sail on the starboard tack, heading about north-northwest, a course that soon required them to change direction; meanwhile, the French took the opposite tack (Plate III., B). The battle therefore began with the allied fleet splitting apart. Ruyter sent one division to engage the French, or rather to keep them in check; these opponents exchanged only distant cannon fire, although the Dutch, being upwind, had the option of engaging more closely if they wanted. Since their commander, Bankert, wasn’t criticized, it can be assumed he was following orders; he certainly was in command a year later, demonstrating strong judgment and bravery at the battle of Texel. In the meantime, Ruyter aggressively attacked the two English divisions, seemingly with greater forces; English naval historians claim that the Dutch were in a three-to-two advantage.[47] [147]If this is accurate, it clearly highlights Ruyter's exceptional skills as a general, ahead of anyone else in this century.
The results of the battle, considered simply as an engagement, were indecisive; both sides lost heavily, but the honors and the substantial advantages all belonged to the Dutch, or rather to De Ruyter. He had outgeneralled the allies by his apparent retreat, and then returning had surprised them wholly unprepared. The false move by which the English, two thirds of the whole, stood to the northward and westward, while the other third, the French, went off to the east and south, separated the allied fleet; Ruyter threw his whole force into the gap, showing front to the French with a division probably smaller in numbers, but which, from its position to windward, had the choice of coming to close action or not, while with the remainder he fell in much superior strength upon the English (Plate III., B). Paul Hoste says[48] that Vice-Admiral d'Estrées, commanding the French, had taken measures for tacking and breaking through the Dutch division opposed to him so as to rejoin the Duke of York, the allied commander-in-chief. It may be so, for D'Estrées was a very brave man, and not enough of a seaman to appreciate the dangers of the attempt; but no such move was begun, and both the English and Ruyter thought that the French rather avoided than sought close action. Had D'Estrées, however, gone about, and attempted to break through the line of experienced Dutchmen to windward of him with the still raw seamen of France, the result would have been as disastrous as that which overtook the Spanish admiral at the battle of St. Vincent a hundred and twenty-five years later, when he tried to reunite his broken fleet by breaking through the close order of Jervis and Nelson. (See Plate III., a.) The truth, which gradually dawns through a mass of conflicting statements, is, that the Duke of York, though a fair seaman and a brave man, was not an able one; that his fleet was not in good order and was thus surprised; that his orders beforehand [148]were not so precise as to make the French admiral technically disobedient in taking the opposite tack from the commander-in-chief, and so separating the squadrons; and that Ruyter profited most ably by the surprise which he had himself prepared, and by the further opportunity given him by the ineptness of his enemies. Unless for circumstances that are not stated, the French admiral took the right tack, with a northeast wind, for it led out to sea and would give room for manœuvring; had the Duke of York chosen the same, the allied fleet would have gone out together, with only the disadvantage of the wind and bad order. In that case, however, Ruyter could, and probably would, have done just what he did at the Texel a year later,—check the van, the French, with a small containing force, and fall with the mass of his fleet upon the centre and rear. It is the similarity of his action in both cases, under very different conditions, that proves he intended at Southwold Bay merely to keep the French in check while he destroyed the English.
The results of the battle, seen simply as a clash, were inconclusive; both sides suffered significant losses, but the honors and major advantages went to the Dutch, or more specifically, to De Ruyter. He outsmarted the allies by pretending to retreat and then returning, catching them completely off guard. The error the English made, with two-thirds of their forces positioned to the north and west while the other third, the French, moved to the east and south, split the allied fleet. Ruyter took advantage of this gap, facing the French with a division that was likely smaller in number but had the upper hand due to its windward position, allowing it the choice to engage or not, while he attacked the English with a much stronger force (Plate III., B). Paul Hoste says[48] that Vice-Admiral d'Estrées, who was in charge of the French, had plans to maneuver and break through the Dutch division opposing him to reunite with the Duke of York, the allied commander-in-chief. This could be true, as D'Estrées was quite brave, though perhaps not a skilled enough seaman to understand the risks of such an attempt; however, no action to do this was initiated, and both the English and Ruyter believed that the French were avoiding rather than pursuing close combat. If D'Estrées had attempted to sail around and break through the line of experienced Dutch sailors with the less experienced French crews, the outcome would have likely been as catastrophic as what happened to the Spanish admiral at the battle of St. Vincent 125 years later, when he tried to regroup his broken fleet by breaking through the tight formation of Jervis and Nelson. (See Plate III., a.) The reality, which gradually becomes clear amid a sea of conflicting reports, is that the Duke of York, though a competent sailor and courageous, was not particularly skilled; his fleet was poorly organized and thus caught off guard; his prior orders were not detailed enough to make the French admiral technically disobedient for taking a different course from the commander-in-chief and consequently splitting the forces; and Ruyter effectively capitalized on the surprise he had orchestrated, as well as on the mistakes of his enemies. Unless there are circumstances not mentioned, the French admiral took the correct route, with a northeast wind, leading out to sea and allowing space for maneuvering; had the Duke of York chosen the same, the allied fleet would have sailed out together, facing only the challenges of the wind and disorganization. However, in that scenario, Ruyter could have, and probably would have, done exactly what he did at the Texel a year later—contain the French van with a small force while he attacked with the bulk of his fleet on the center and rear. It is the similarity of his tactics in both cases, under very different situations, that demonstrates his intention at Southwold Bay was simply to keep the French at bay while he defeated the English.
In this battle, called indifferently Southwold Bay and Solebay, Ruyter showed a degree of skill combined with vigor which did not appear upon the sea, after his death, until the days of Suffren and Nelson. His battles of the war of 1672 were no "affairs of circumspection," though they were fought circumspectly; his aim was no less than the enemy's total overthrow, by joining good combinations to fury of attack. At Solebay he was somewhat, though not greatly, inferior to his enemies; afterward much more so.
In this battle, known as both Southwold Bay and Solebay, Ruyter demonstrated a level of skill along with energy that wasn’t seen on the seas until the times of Suffren and Nelson. His battles during the war of 1672 were far from cautious, even though they were fought with care; his goal was nothing less than the complete defeat of the enemy, by combining effective strategies with relentless aggression. At Solebay, he was somewhat, but not significantly, outmatched by his opponents; afterward, he was much more outmatched.
The substantial results of Solebay fight were wholly favorable to the Dutch. The allied fleets were to have assisted the operations of the French army by making a descent upon the coast of Zealand. Ruyter's attack had inflicted an amount of damage, and caused an expenditure of ammunition, which postponed the sailing of the fleet for a month; it was a diversion, not only important, but vital in the nearly desperate condition to which the United Provinces were reduced ashore. It may be added, as an instructive comment on the theory of commerce-destroying, that after this staggering check to the [149]enemy's superior forces, Ruyter met and convoyed safely to port a fleet of Dutch merchantmen.
The significant outcomes of the Solebay battle were completely in favor of the Dutch. The allied fleets were supposed to support the French army by landing on the coast of Zealand. Ruyter's attack caused considerable damage and led to a loss of ammunition, which delayed the fleet's departure for a month; it was a diversion that was not just important but crucial for the nearly desperate situation the United Provinces faced on land. It’s worth noting, as a lesson on the concept of disrupting commerce, that after this major setback to the enemy's superior forces, Ruyter managed to meet and safely escort a fleet of Dutch merchant ships to port.
The progress of the land campaign must now be briefly described.[49] Early in May the French army in several corps moved forward, passing through the outskirts of the Spanish Netherlands, and directing their attack upon Holland from the south and east. The republican party which was in power in Holland had neglected the army, and now made the mistake of scattering the force they had among many fortified towns, trusting that each would do something toward delaying the French. Louis, however, under the advice of Turenne, simply observed the more important places, while the second-rate towns surrendered nearly as fast as they were summoned; the army of the Provinces, as well as their territory, thus passing rapidly, by fractions, into the power of the enemy. Within a month the French were in the heart of the country, having carried all before them, and with no organized force remaining in their front sufficient of itself to stop them. In the fortnight following the battle of Solebay, terror and disorganization spread throughout the republic. On the 15th of June the Grand Pensionary obtained permission of the States-General to send a deputation to Louis XIV., begging him to name the terms on which he would grant them peace; any humiliation to the foreigner was better in the eyes of the politician than to see the opposite party, the House of Orange, come into power on his downfall. While negotiations were pending, the Dutch towns continued to surrender; and on the 20th of June a few French soldiers entered Muyden, the key to Amsterdam. They were only stragglers, though the large body to which they belonged was near at hand; and the burghers, who had admitted them under the influence of the panic prevailing throughout the land, seeing that they were alone, soon made them drunk and put them out. The nobler feeling that animated Amsterdam now made itself felt in Muyden; a body of troops hurried up from the capital, and the smaller city was saved. "Situated [150]on the Zuyder Zee, two hours distant from Amsterdam, at the junction of a number of rivers and canals, Muyden not only held the key of the principal dykes by which Amsterdam could surround herself with a protecting inundation, it also held the key of the harbor of this great city, all the ships which went from the North Sea to Amsterdam by the Zuyder Zee being obliged to pass under its guns. Muyden saved and its dykes open, Amsterdam had time to breathe, and remained free to break off her communications by land and to maintain them by sea."[50] It was the turning-point of the invasion; but what would have been the effect upon the spirit of the Dutch, oppressed by defeat and distracted in council, if in that fateful fortnight which went before, the allied fleet had attacked their coasts? From this they were saved by the battle of Solebay.
The progress of the land campaign must now be briefly described.[49] Early in May, the French army advanced in several groups, moving through the outskirts of the Spanish Netherlands and launching their attack on Holland from the south and east. The ruling republican party in Holland had neglected the army and made the mistake of spreading their forces across many fortified towns, hoping that each would do something to slow down the French. However, Louis, following Turenne's advice, focused on the more significant locations, while the smaller towns surrendered almost as quickly as they were summoned; as a result, the army of the Provinces and their territory rapidly fell into the enemy's hands. Within a month, the French were deep into the country, having swept everything before them, with no organized force left in front of them strong enough to stop them. In the two weeks following the battle of Solebay, fear and chaos spread throughout the republic. On June 15, the Grand Pensionary received permission from the States-General to send a delegation to Louis XIV, asking him to state the terms for peace; any humiliation to a foreign power was better in the eyes of the politician than allowing the opposing party, the House of Orange, to gain power due to his downfall. While negotiations were ongoing, Dutch towns continued to surrender, and on June 20, a few French soldiers entered Muyden, the key to Amsterdam. They were just stragglers, despite a larger group being nearby; the burghers, who had let them in out of panic, soon realized they were alone, got them drunk, and drove them out. The noble spirit that motivated Amsterdam was now felt in Muyden; a group of troops rushed in from the capital, saving the smaller city. "Situated [150]on the Zuyder Zee, two hours from Amsterdam, at the junction of several rivers and canals, Muyden not only controlled the main dykes that protected Amsterdam with an inundation but also held the key to the harbor of this great city. All ships traveling from the North Sea to Amsterdam via the Zuyder Zee had to pass under its guns. With Muyden saved and its dykes open, Amsterdam had time to recuperate and remained free to halt its land communications while maintaining its sea routes."[50] It was the turning point of the invasion; but what would the impact have been on the spirit of the Dutch, demoralized by defeat and distracted in their decision-making, if the allied fleet had attacked their coasts during that crucial fortnight before? They were spared this by the battle of Solebay.
Negotiations continued. The burgomasters—the party representing wealth and commerce—favored submission; they shrank from the destruction of their property and trade. New advances were made; but while the envoys were still in the camp of Louis, the populace and the Orange party rose, and with them the spirit of resistance. On the 25th of June Amsterdam opened the dykes, and her example was followed by the other cities of Holland; immense loss was entailed, but the flooded country and the cities contained therein, standing like islands amid the waters, were safe from attack by land forces until freezing weather. The revolution continued. William of Orange, afterward William III. of England, was on the 8th of July made stadtholder, and head of the army and navy; and the two De Witts, the heads of the republican party, were murdered by a mob a few weeks later.
Negotiations went on. The burgomasters—the group representing wealth and commerce—preferred to submit; they feared the destruction of their property and businesses. New proposals were put forth; but while the envoys were still at Louis's camp, the people and the Orange party rose up, bringing with them a spirit of resistance. On June 25th, Amsterdam opened the dykes, and other cities in Holland followed suit; this caused immense loss, but the flooded land and the cities within it, standing like islands amidst the waters, were safe from land attacks until the weather turned cold. The revolution kept going. William of Orange, later known as William III of England, was appointed stadtholder and the head of the army and navy on July 8th, and a few weeks later, the two De Witts, leaders of the republican party, were killed by a mob.
The resistance born of popular enthusiasm and pride of country was strengthened by the excessive demands of Louis XIV. It was plain that the Provinces must conquer or be destroyed. Meanwhile the other States of Europe were waking up to the danger, and the Emperor of Germany, the Elector of Brandenburg, and the King of Spain declared for Holland; while Sweden, though nominally in alliance with [151]France, was unwilling to see the destruction of the Provinces, because that would be to the advantage of England's sea power. Nevertheless the next year, 1673, opened with promise for France, and the English king was prepared to fulfil his part of the compact on the seas; but the Dutch, under the firm leadership of William of Orange, and with their hold on the sea unshaken, now refused to accept conditions of peace which had been offered by themselves the year before.
The resistance fueled by popular enthusiasm and national pride was bolstered by the overwhelming demands of Louis XIV. It was clear that the Provinces had to either triumph or face destruction. At the same time, other European nations were recognizing the threat, and the Emperor of Germany, the Elector of Brandenburg, and the King of Spain supported Holland; while Sweden, although officially allied with France, was reluctant to see the Provinces destroyed, as that would benefit England's naval power. However, the following year, 1673, began with promise for France, and the English king was ready to uphold his part of the agreement at sea; but the Dutch, under the strong leadership of William of Orange, and with their control of the sea intact, now refused to accept the peace terms they had proposed the previous year.
Three naval battles were fought in 1673, all near the coast of the United Provinces; the first two, June 7 and June 14, off Schoneveldt, from which place they have taken their name; the third, known as the battle of the Texel, August 21. In all three Ruyter attacked, choosing his own time, and retiring when it suited him to the protection of his own shores. For the allies to carry out their objects and make any diversion upon the seaboard, or on the other hand to cripple the sea resources of the hard-pressed Provinces, it was necessary first to deal successfully with Ruyter's fleet. The great admiral and his government both felt this, and took the resolution that "the fleet should be posted in the passage of Schoneveldt, or a little farther south toward Ostend, to observe the enemy, and if attacked, or seeing the enemy's fleet disposed to make a descent upon the shores of the United Provinces, should resist vigorously, by opposing his designs and destroying his ships."[51] From this position, with good lookouts, any movement of the allies would be known.
Three naval battles took place in 1673, all close to the coast of the United Provinces; the first two were on June 7 and June 14, near Schoneveldt, which is how they got their name; the third, known as the battle of the Texel, occurred on August 21. In all three battles, Ruyter initiated the attack, choosing when to strike and retreating to the safety of his own shores when he deemed it necessary. For the allies to achieve their goals and create any diversion along the coastline, or to undermine the naval resources of the beleaguered Provinces, they first needed to successfully confront Ruyter's fleet. The great admiral and his government understood this and decided that "the fleet should be stationed in the passage of Schoneveldt, or slightly further south towards Ostend, to watch the enemy, and if attacked, or if they saw the enemy's fleet preparing to land on the shores of the United Provinces, they should resist strongly by countering their plans and destroying their ships."[51] From this position, with good lookouts, any movements of the allies would be monitored.
The English and French put to sea about the 1st of June, under the command of Prince Rupert, first cousin to the king, the Duke of York having been obliged to resign his office on account of the passage of the Test Act, directed against persons of the Roman Catholic faith holding any public employment. The French were under Vice-Admiral d'Estrées, the same who had commanded them at Solebay. A force of six thousand English troops at Yarmouth was ready to embark if De Ruyter was worsted. On the 7th of June the Dutch were made out, riding within the sands at Schoneveldt. [152]A detached squadron was sent to draw them out, but Ruyter needed no invitation; the wind served, and he followed the detached squadron with such impetuosity as to attack before the allied line was fairly formed. On this occasion the French occupied the centre. The affair was indecisive, if a battle can be called so in which an inferior force attacks a superior, inflicts an equal loss, and frustrates the main object of the enemy. A week later Ruyter again attacked, with results which, though indecisive as before as to the particular action, forced the allied fleet to return to the English coast to refit, and for supplies. The Dutch in these encounters had fifty-five ships-of-the-line; their enemies eighty-one, fifty-four of which were English.
The English and French set sail around June 1st, led by Prince Rupert, who was the king's first cousin. The Duke of York had to step down from his position because of the Test Act, which prevented people of the Roman Catholic faith from holding public office. The French were commanded by Vice-Admiral d'Estrées, the same one who had led them at Solebay. A force of six thousand English troops in Yarmouth was ready to board if De Ruyter was defeated. On June 7th, the Dutch were spotted, anchored within the sands at Schoneveldt. [152]A separate squadron was sent to lure them out, but Ruyter didn’t need any encouragement; the wind was favorable, and he followed the detached squadron with such intensity that he attacked before the allied line was completely formed. On this occasion, the French took the center position. The battle was inconclusive, though it might be considered a battle in which a smaller force attacks a larger one, inflicts equal damage, and thwarts the enemy's main goal. A week later, Ruyter attacked again, and while the results were once again inconclusive regarding the specific engagement, it forced the allied fleet to retreat to the English coast for repair and resupply. The Dutch had fifty-five ships-of-the-line in these confrontations, while their opponents had eighty-one, fifty-four of which were English.
The allied fleets did not go to sea again until the latter part of July, and this time they carried with them a body of troops meant for a landing. On the 20th of August the Dutch fleet was seen under way between the Texel and the Meuse. Rupert at once got ready to fight; but as the wind was from the northward and westward, giving the allies the weather-gage, and with it the choice of the method of attack, Ruyter availed himself of his local knowledge, keeping so close to the beach that the enemy dared not approach,—the more so as it was late in the day. During the night the wind shifted to east-southeast off the land, and at daybreak, to use the words of a French official narrative, the Dutch "made all sail and stood down boldly into action."
The allied fleets didn’t set sail again until late July, and this time they took troops with them for a landing. On August 20th, the Dutch fleet was spotted moving between the Texel and the Meuse. Rupert immediately prepared for battle; however, with the wind coming from the north and west, the allies had the advantage of the weather and the choice of how to attack. Ruyter used his local knowledge to stay close to the shore, making it risky for the enemy to approach—especially since it was getting late in the day. During the night, the wind changed to east-southeast off the coast, and at dawn, to quote a French official account, the Dutch "set all their sails and confidently headed into battle."
The allied fleet was to leeward on the port tack, heading about south,—the French in the van, Rupert in the centre, and Sir Edward Spragge commanding the rear. De Ruyter divided his fleet into three squadrons, the leading one of which, of ten or twelve ships only, he sent against the French; while with the rest of his force he attacked the English in the centre and rear (Plate IV., A, A’, A’’). If we accept the English estimate of the forces, which gives the English sixty ships, the French thirty, and the Dutch seventy, Ruyter's plan of attack, by simply holding the French in check as at Solebay, allowed him to engage the English on [153]equal terms. The battle took on several distinct phases, which it is instructive to follow. M. de Martel, commanding the van of the French, and consequently the leading subdivision of the allied fleet, was ordered to stretch ahead, go about and gain to windward of the Dutch van, so as to place it between two fires. This he did (B); but as soon as Bankert—the same who had manœuvred so judiciously at Solebay the year before—saw the danger, he put his helm up and ran through the remaining twenty ships of D'Estrées' squadron with his own twelve (C),—a feat as creditable to him as it was discreditable to the French; and then wearing round stood down to De Ruyter, who was hotly engaged with Rupert (C’). He was not followed by D'Estrées, who suffered him to carry this important reinforcement to the Dutch main attack undisturbed. This practically ended the French share in the fight.
The allied fleet was downwind on a port tack, heading roughly south—the French in the front, Rupert in the center, and Sir Edward Spragge commanding the rear. De Ruyter split his fleet into three squadrons, sending the leading one, made up of ten or twelve ships, against the French; with the rest of his forces, he attacked the English in the center and rear (Plate IV., A, A', A’’). If we take the English estimate of the forces, which puts the English at sixty ships, the French at thirty, and the Dutch at seventy, Ruyter's plan of attack, simply keeping the French in check like at Solebay, allowed him to engage the English on [153]equal terms. The battle unfolded in several distinct phases, which it’s helpful to follow. M. de Martel, in charge of the French front and therefore the leading part of the allied fleet, was told to push ahead, change direction, and gain a position upwind of the Dutch front, to trap it between two fires. He did this (B); but as soon as Bankert—the same one who had maneuvered so effectively at Solebay the previous year—saw the risk, he turned his ship and cut through the last twenty ships of D'Estrées' squadron with his own twelve (C),—a move that reflected well on him and poorly on the French; then turning around, he went down to join De Ruyter, who was heavily engaged with Rupert (C’). D'Estrées did not follow him, allowing him to carry this crucial reinforcement to the Dutch main attack without interference. This pretty much ended the French involvement in the battle.
Rupert, during his action with De Ruyter, kept off continually, with the object of drawing the Dutch farther away from their coast, so that if the wind shifted they might not be able to regain its shelter. De Ruyter followed him, and the consequent separation of the centre from the van (B, B’) was one of the reasons alleged by D'Estrées for his delay. It does not, however, seem to have prevented Bankert from joining his chief.
Rupert, while engaged with De Ruyter, kept pulling away consistently, intending to lure the Dutch further from their coast, so that if the wind changed, they wouldn’t be able to find refuge. De Ruyter pursued him, and the resulting gap between the center and the van (B, B’) was one of the reasons D'Estrées cited for his delay. However, this does not appear to have stopped Bankert from rejoining his leader.
In the rear an extraordinary action on the part of Sir Edward Spragge increased the confusion in the allied fleet. For some reason this officer considered Tromp, who commanded the Dutch rear, as his personal antagonist, and in order to facilitate the latter's getting into action, he hove-to (stopped) the whole English rear to wait for him. This ill-timed point of honor on Spragge's part seems to have sprung from a promise he had made to the king that he would bring back Tromp alive or dead, or else lose his own life. The stoppage, which recalls the irresponsible and insubordinate action of the junior Dutch flag-officers in the former war, of course separated the rear (A’’, B’’, C’’), which also drifted rapidly to leeward, Spragge and Tromp carrying on a [154]hot private action on their own account. These two junior admirals sought each other personally, and the battle between their flags was so severe that Spragge twice had to shift his own to another ship; on the second occasion the boat in which he was embarked was sunk by a shot, and he himself drowned.
In the back, an unexpected move by Sir Edward Spragge created more confusion in the allied fleet. For some reason, this officer saw Tromp, who was in charge of the Dutch rear, as his personal rival, and to help Tromp get into action, he stopped the entire English rear to wait for him. This poorly timed sense of honor from Spragge seemed to come from a promise he had made to the king that he would bring back Tromp, dead or alive, or else lose his own life. The halt, reminiscent of the reckless and disobedient actions of the junior Dutch flag officers in the previous war, obviously separated the rear (A'', B’', C’I'm sorry, there doesn't appear to be any text provided for me to modernize. Please provide the text you'd like me to work on.), which quickly drifted away, while Spragge and Tromp engaged in a [154] fierce personal battle. These two junior admirals sought each other out, and the clashes between their fleets were so intense that Spragge had to change his flag to another ship twice; on the second occasion, the boat he was in was sunk by a shot, and he drowned.
Rupert, thus forsaken by his van and rear, found himself alone with Ruyter (B’); who, reinforced by his van, had the address further to cut off the rear subdivision of the allied centre, and to surround the remaining twenty ships with probably thirty or forty of his own (C’). It is not creditable to the gunnery of the day that more substantial results did not follow; but it is to be remembered that all Ruyter's skill could secure, except for probably a very short time, was an action on equal terms with the English; his total inferiority in numbers could not be quite overcome. The damage to the English and Dutch may therefore have been great, and was probably nearly equal.
Rupert, abandoned by his front and rear, found himself alone with Ruyter; who, having support from his front, was able to cut off the rear division of the allied center and surround the remaining twenty ships with probably thirty or forty of his own. It's not impressive that more significant results didn't follow given the gunnery of the time; however, it's important to note that all Ruyter could manage, even for a brief time, was a battle on equal footing with the English; his total disadvantage in numbers couldn't be completely overcome. The damage to both the English and Dutch was likely substantial and nearly equal.
Rupert finally disengaged himself, and seeing that the English rear (C’’) was not replying well to its immediate opponents, ran down toward it, Ruyter following him; the two opposing centres steering parallel courses, and within cannon-shot, but by mutual consent, induced perhaps by ammunition running short, refraining from firing. At four P.M. the centres and rears united, and toward five a fresh engagement began, which continued till seven, when Ruyter withdrew, probably because of the approach of the French, who, by their own accounts, rejoined Rupert about that time. This ended the battle, which, like all that preceded it in this war, may be called a drawn fight, but as to which the verdict of the English naval historian is doubtless correct: "The consequences which the Dutch, through the prudence of their admiral, drew from this battle were exceedingly great; for they opened their ports, which were entirely blocked up, and put an end to all thoughts, by removing the possibility, of an invasion."[52]
Rupert finally broke away, and noticing that the English rear (C’’) wasn’t responding well to its immediate opponents, he ran down toward it, with Ruyter following him. The two opposing centers were on parallel paths and within cannon range, but by mutual agreement—perhaps due to running low on ammunition—they refrained from firing. At 4 PM, the centers and rears came together, and around 5, a fresh engagement started, which lasted until 7, when Ruyter withdrew, likely because the French were approaching, who according to their own accounts, rejoined Rupert around that time. This marked the end of the battle, which, like all the previous ones in this war, can be considered a draw. However, the verdict of the English naval historian is undoubtedly correct: "The consequences that the Dutch, due to their admiral's prudence, drew from this battle were extremely significant; they opened their ports, which had been completely blocked, and ended any thoughts of an invasion by eliminating that possibility."[52]
[155]The military features of the action have sufficiently appeared in the account that has been given,—the skill of De Ruyter; the firmness and promptness of Bankert, first in checking and then in passing through the French division; the apparent disloyalty or, at the best, inefficiency of the latter; the insubordination and military blundering of Spragge; the seeming lack of everything but hard fighting on Rupert's part. The allies indulged in bitter mutual recriminations. Rupert blamed both D'Estrées and Spragge; D'Estrées found fault with Rupert for running to leeward; and D'Estrées' own second, Martel, roundly called his chief a coward, in a letter which earned him an imprisonment in the Bastille. The French king ordered an inquiry by the intendant of the navy at Brest, who made a report[53] upon which the account here given has mainly rested, and which leaves little doubt of the dishonor of the French arms in this battle. "M. d'Estrées gave it to be understood," says the French naval historian, "that the king wished his fleet spared, and that the English should not be trusted. Was he wrong in not relying upon the sincerity of the English alliance, when he was receiving from all quarters warnings that the people and the nobles were murmuring against it, and Charles II. was perhaps alone in his kingdom in wishing it?"[54] Possibly not; but he was surely wrong if he wished any military man, or body of men, to play the equivocal part assigned to the French admiral on this day; the loss of the fleet would have been a lighter disaster. So evident to eye-witnesses was the bad faith or cowardice (and the latter supposition is not admissible), that one of the Dutch seamen, as they discussed among themselves why the French did not come down, said: "You fools! they have hired the English to fight for them, and all their business here is to see that they earn their wages." A more sober-minded and significant utterance is that with which the intendant at Brest ends the official report before mentioned: "It would appear in all these sea-fights Ruyter has never cared to attack the French squadron, and that in this last [156]action he had detached ten ships of the Zealand squadron to keep it in play."[55] No stronger testimony is needed to Ruyter's opinion of the inefficiency or faithlessness of that contingent to the allied forces.
[155]The military aspects of the conflict have been clearly outlined in the account provided—the skill of De Ruyter; the decisiveness and quick action of Bankert, first in halting and then in breaking through the French division; the apparent disloyalty or, at best, ineffectiveness of the latter; the insubordination and mistakes made by Spragge; and Rupert's apparent focus solely on fighting. The allies engaged in harsh mutual accusations. Rupert blamed both D'Estrées and Spragge; D'Estrées criticized Rupert for moving away; and D'Estrées' own second, Martel, bluntly called his leader a coward in a letter that landed him in prison in the Bastille. The French king ordered an investigation by the intendant of the navy in Brest, who submitted a report[53] that forms the basis of this account, leaving little doubt about the disgrace of the French forces in this battle. "M. d'Estrées implied," says the French naval historian, "that the king wanted his fleet to be protected, and that the English should not be trusted. Was he wrong to doubt the sincerity of the English alliance, especially when he was getting warnings from all sides that the people and nobles were unhappy with it, and that Charles II. might have been the only one in his kingdom who supported it?"[54] Possibly not; but he was surely mistaken if he expected any military person or group to take on the ambiguous role assigned to the French admiral that day; losing the fleet would have been a less severe disaster. So clear was the bad faith or cowardice (and the latter idea isn't plausible) that one of the Dutch sailors, discussing amongst themselves why the French did not advance, said: "You fools! they’ve hired the English to fight for them, and all they’re doing here is making sure they earn their pay." A more serious and meaningful statement comes from the intendant in Brest, who concludes the official report mentioned earlier: "It seems that in all these naval battles, Ruyter has never been eager to attack the French squadron, and in this last [156]action, he detached ten ships from the Zealand squadron to keep it occupied."[55] No stronger evidence is needed to support Ruyter's view of the inefficiency or untrustworthiness of that contingent to the allied forces.
Another chapter in the history of maritime coalitions was closed, on the 21st of August, 1673, by the battle of the Texel. In it, as in others, were amply justified the words with which a modern French naval officer has stamped them: "United by momentary political interests, but at bottom divided to the verge of hatred, never following the same path in counsel or in action, they have never produced good results, or at least results proportioned to the efforts of the powers allied against a common enemy. The navies of France, Spain, and Holland seem, at several distinct times, to have joined only to make more complete the triumph of the British arms."[56] When to this well-ascertained tendency of coalitions is added the equally well known jealousy of every country over the increasing power of a neighbor, and the consequent unwillingness to see such increase obtained by crushing another member of the family of nations, an approach is made to the measure of naval strength required by a State. It is not necessary to be able to meet all others combined, as some Englishmen have seemed to think; it is necessary only to be able to meet the strongest on favorable terms, sure that the others will not join in destroying a factor in the political equilibrium, even if they hold aloof. England and Spain were allies in Toulon in 1793, when the excesses of Revolutionary France seemed to threaten the social order of Europe; but the Spanish admiral told the English flatly that the ruin of the French navy, a large part of which was there in their hands, could not fail to be injurious to the interests of Spain, and a part of the French ships was saved by his conduct, which has been justly characterized as not only full of firmness, but also as dictated by the highest political reason.[57]
Another chapter in the history of maritime coalitions came to a close on August 21, 1673, with the battle of Texel. In this battle, like many others, the words of a modern French naval officer were clearly justified: "United by temporary political interests, but fundamentally divided almost to the point of hatred, they never followed the same path in decisions or actions, and have never produced good results, or at least results proportional to the efforts of the powers united against a common enemy. The navies of France, Spain, and Holland seem to have joined at various times only to further the triumph of British forces." When this established tendency of coalitions is combined with the well-known jealousy each country harbors towards the growing power of a neighbor, and the resulting reluctance to see such power gained by undermining another member of the international community, we start to gauge the naval strength required by a nation. It's not necessary to be able to face all others combined, as some Englishmen have believed; it’s only necessary to be able to confront the strongest on favorable terms, trusting that the others will not come together to eliminate a factor in the political balance, even if they choose to remain distant. England and Spain were allies in Toulon in 1793, when the excesses of Revolutionary France seemed to threaten the social order in Europe; however, the Spanish admiral bluntly told the English that the downfall of the French navy, a large part of which was in their control, would certainly hurt Spain's interests, and some of the French ships were spared thanks to his actions, which have rightly been described as both firm and guided by the highest political reasoning.
[157]The battle of the Texel, closing the long series of wars in which the Dutch and English contended on equal terms for the mastery of the seas, saw the Dutch navy in its highest efficiency, and its greatest ornament, De Ruyter, at the summit of his glory. Long since old in years, for he was now sixty-six, he had lost none of his martial vigor; his attack was as furious as eight years before, and his judgment apparently had ripened rapidly through the experience of the last war, for there is far more evidence of plan and military insight than before. To him, under the government of the great Pensionary De Witt, with whom he was in close sympathy, the increase of discipline and sound military tone now apparent in the Dutch navy must have been largely due. He went to this final strife of the two great sea-peoples in the fulness of his own genius, with an admirably tempered instrument in his hands, and with the glorious disadvantage of numbers, to save his country. The mission was fulfilled not by courage alone, but by courage, forethought, and skill. The attack at the Texel was, in its general lines, the same as that at Trafalgar, the enemy's van being neglected to fall on the centre and rear, and as at Trafalgar the van, by failing to do its duty, more than justified the conception; but as the odds against De Ruyter were greater than those against Nelson, so was his success less. The part played by Bankert at Solebay was essentially the same as that of Nelson at St. Vincent, when he threw himself across the path of the Spanish division with his single ship (see Plate III., c, c’); but Nelson took his course without orders from Jervis, while Bankert was carrying out Ruyter's plan. Once more, still himself in his bearing, but under sadly altered surroundings, will this simple and heroic man come before us; and here, in contrast with his glory, seems a proper place to insert a little description by the Comte de Guiche[58] of his bearing in the Four Days' Fight, which brings out at once the homely and the heroic sides of his character.
[157]The battle of Texel marked the end of the long series of wars where the Dutch and English fought equally for control of the seas. It showcased the Dutch navy at its peak, with De Ruyter shining at the height of his fame. Although he was now sixty-six and long past his youth, he had lost none of his fighting spirit; his attacks were as fierce as they had been eight years earlier. His judgment seemed to have sharpened significantly through the experiences of the last war, showing much more planning and military insight than before. Under the leadership of the great Pensionary De Witt, with whom he was closely aligned, he must have played a major role in the enhanced discipline and military quality now evident in the Dutch navy. He entered this final conflict between the two great maritime nations with all his genius intact, wielding a finely tuned instrument, despite the challenging odds he faced to protect his country. Success came not just from bravery, but also from careful planning and skill. The attack at Texel followed the same general strategy as at Trafalgar, with the enemy's front left unattended while the focus was on the center and rear. Just like at Trafalgar, the front line's failure to fulfill its duty justified the plan, but De Ruyter faced even tougher odds than Nelson, leading to somewhat less success. Bankert's role at Solebay mirrored Nelson's at St. Vincent when he bravely stood in the way of the Spanish division with his single ship (see Plate III., c, cThe text is empty. Please provide a short phrase for modernization.); however, unlike Nelson, who acted without orders from Jervis, Bankert was executing Ruyter's strategy. Once again, this simple yet heroic man will present himself to us, though under much changed circumstances. In contrast to his glory, it feels fitting to share a brief description by the Comte de Guiche[58] of his demeanor during the Four Days' Fight, which highlights both the down-to-earth and heroic aspects of his character.
"I never saw him [during those last three days] other than even-tempered; and when victory was assured, saying always it was the [158]good God that gives it to us. Amid the disorders of the fleet and the appearance of loss, he seemed to be moved only by the misfortune to his country, but always submissive to the will of God. Finally, it may be said that he has something of the frankness and lack of polish of our patriarchs; and, to conclude what I have to say of him, I will relate that the day after the victory I found him sweeping his own room and feeding his chickens."
"I never saw him [during those last three days] as anything but calm; and when victory was certain, he always said it was the [158] good God who gave it to us. Despite the chaos of the fleet and the fear of defeat, he seemed only concerned about his country's misfortune, yet always accepted God's will. In the end, I would say he has a bit of the straightforwardness and roughness of our elders; and to wrap up what I want to say about him, I will share that the day after the victory, I found him cleaning his own room and feeding his chickens."
Nine days after the battle of the Texel, on the 30th of August, 1673, a formal alliance was made between Holland on the one hand, and Spain, Lorraine, and the emperor of Germany on the other, and the French ambassador was dismissed from Vienna. Louis almost immediately offered Holland comparatively moderate terms; but the United Provinces, with their new allies by their sides and with their backs borne firmly upon the sea which had favored and supported them, set their face steadily against him. In England the clamor of the people and Parliament became louder; the Protestant feeling and the old enmity to France were daily growing, as was the national distrust of the king. Charles, though he had himself lost none of his hatred of the republic, had to give way. Louis, seeing the gathering storm, made up his mind, by the counsel of Turenne, to withdraw from his dangerously advanced position by evacuating Holland, and to try to make peace with the Provinces separately while continuing the war with the House of Austria in Spain and Germany. Thus he returned to Richelieu's policy, and Holland was saved. February 19, 1674, peace was signed between England and the Provinces. The latter recognized the absolute supremacy of the English flag from Cape Finisterre in Spain to Norway, and paid a war indemnity.
Nine days after the battle of the Texel, on August 30, 1673, a formal alliance was established between Holland and Spain, Lorraine, and the Holy Roman Emperor, while the French ambassador was sent away from Vienna. Louis quickly offered Holland relatively moderate terms, but the United Provinces, now backed by their new allies and firmly supported by the sea that had helped them, stood firmly against him. In England, the public and Parliament grew increasingly vocal; the Protestant sentiment and historical hostility towards France intensified, along with a rising distrust of the king. Charles, despite still harboring his dislike for the republic, had to concede. Sensing the brewing trouble, Louis decided, with Turenne's advice, to retreat from his precarious position by pulling out of Holland and attempting to negotiate peace with the Provinces individually while continuing the conflict with the House of Austria in Spain and Germany. Thus, he reverted to Richelieu's strategy, and Holland was saved. On February 19, 1674, peace was signed between England and the Provinces. The latter acknowledged the complete dominance of the English flag from Cape Finisterre in Spain to Norway and agreed to pay a war indemnity.
The withdrawal of England, which remained neutral during the remaining four years of the war, necessarily made it less maritime. The King of France did not think his navy, either in numbers or efficiency, able to contend alone with that of Holland; he therefore withdrew it from the ocean and confined his sea enterprises to the Mediterranean, with one or two half-privateering expeditions to the West Indies. The United Provinces for their part, being freed from danger on the side [159]of the sea, and not having, except for a short time, any serious idea of operating against the French coast, diminished their own fleets. The war became more and more continental, and drew in more and more the other powers of Europe. Gradually the German States cast their lot with Austria, and on May 28, 1674, the Diet proclaimed war against France. The great work of French policy in the last generations was undone, Austria had resumed her supremacy in Germany, and Holland had not been destroyed. On the Baltic, Denmark, seeing Sweden inclining toward France, hastened to make common cause with the German Empire, sending fifteen thousand troops. There remained in Germany only Bavaria, Hanover, and Wurtemberg faithful still to their French alliance. The land war had thus drawn in nearly all the powers of Europe, and, from the nature of the case, the principal theatre of the conflict was beyond the eastern boundary of France, toward the Rhine, and in the Spanish Netherlands; but while this was raging, a maritime episode was introduced by the fact of Denmark and Sweden being engaged on opposite sides. Of this it will not be necessary to speak, beyond mentioning that the Dutch sent a squadron under Tromp to join the Danes, and that the united fleets won a great victory over the Swedes in 1676, taking from them ten ships. It is therefore evident that the sea superiority of Holland detracted greatly from Sweden's value as an ally to Louis XIV.
The withdrawal of England, which stayed neutral for the last four years of the war, naturally made its maritime presence weaker. The King of France didn’t believe that his navy, in terms of numbers or effectiveness, could compete alone with the Dutch navy; he therefore pulled it from the ocean and focused his naval efforts on the Mediterranean, with a few privateering missions to the West Indies. The United Provinces, feeling secure from threats at sea and not seriously considering operations against the French coast except for a short time, reduced their own fleets. The war increasingly became a land conflict, pulling in more of Europe’s powers. Slowly, the German states allied with Austria, and on May 28, 1674, the Diet declared war on France. The major accomplishments of French policy over the past generations were undone, Austria regained its dominance in Germany, and Holland survived intact. In the Baltic, Denmark, noticing Sweden leaning toward France, quickly allied with the German Empire, sending fifteen thousand troops. Only Bavaria, Hanover, and Wurtemberg remained loyal to their French alliance. The land war had drawn in nearly all of Europe’s powers, and obviously, the main battlefield was beyond France’s eastern border, heading toward the Rhine and in the Spanish Netherlands. Meanwhile, a naval incident arose with Denmark and Sweden on opposing sides. It’s worth noting that the Dutch sent a squadron led by Tromp to support the Danes, and the combined fleets achieved a significant victory over the Swedes in 1676, capturing ten of their ships. Therefore, it’s clear that the naval supremacy of Holland significantly reduced Sweden’s value as an ally to Louis XIV.
Another maritime strife arose in the Mediterranean by the revolt of the Sicilians against the Spanish rule.[59] The help they asked from France was granted as a diversion against Spain, but the Sicilian enterprise never became more than a side issue. Its naval interest springs from bringing Ruyter once more on the scene, and that as the antagonist of Duquesne, the equal, and by some thought even the superior, of Tourville, whose name has always stood far above all others in the French navy of that day.
Another maritime conflict emerged in the Mediterranean when the Sicilians revolted against Spanish rule.[59] They sought help from France, which was granted as a way to distract from Spain, but the Sicilian effort ended up being just a minor detail. Its naval significance comes from Ruyter making a comeback, confronting Duquesne, who was considered equal to, and by some even superior to, Tourville, a name that has always been at the forefront of the French navy of that time.
Messina revolted in July, 1674, and the French king at [160]once took it under his protection. The Spanish navy throughout seems to have behaved badly, certainly inefficiently; and early in 1675 the French were safely established in the city. During the year their naval power in the Mediterranean was much increased, and Spain, unable to defend the island herself, applied to the United Provinces for a fleet, the expenses of which she would bear. The Provinces, "fatigued by the war, involved in debt, suffering cruelly in their commerce, exhausted by the necessity of paying the emperor and all the German princes, could no longer fit out the enormous fleets which they had once opposed to France and England." They however hearkened to Spain and sent De Ruyter, with a squadron of only eighteen ships and four fire-ships. The admiral, who had noted the growth of the French navy, said the force was too small, and departed oppressed in spirit, but with the calm resignation which was habitual to him. He reached Cadiz in September, and in the mean time the French had further strengthened themselves by the capture of Agosta, a port commanding the southeast of Sicily. De Ruyter was again delayed by the Spanish government, and did not reach the north coast of the island until the end of December, when head winds kept him from entering the Straits of Messina. He cruised between Messina and the Lipari Islands in a position to intercept the French fleet convoying troops and supplies, which was expected under Duquesne.
Messina revolted in July 1674, and the French king immediately took it under his protection. The Spanish navy seemed to have performed poorly and was certainly ineffective, and by early 1675, the French were securely established in the city. Over the year, their naval power in the Mediterranean increased significantly, and Spain, unable to defend the island on its own, requested a fleet from the United Provinces, promising to cover the expenses. However, the Provinces, "fatigued by the war, burdened by debt, suffering severely in their trade, and drained by the necessity of paying the emperor and all the German princes, could no longer equip the massive fleets they had once sent against France and England." Nevertheless, they listened to Spain's plea and sent De Ruyter with a squadron of only eighteen ships and four fire-ships. The admiral, having noticed the expansion of the French navy, felt the force was too small, and left feeling heavy-hearted but with the calm acceptance that was typical of him. He arrived in Cadiz in September, but in the meantime, the French had further reinforced their position by capturing Agosta, a port that commands the southeast of Sicily. De Ruyter faced additional delays from the Spanish government and did not reach the north coast of the island until the end of December, when headwinds prevented him from entering the Straits of Messina. He cruised between Messina and the Lipari Islands in a position to intercept the French fleet bringing troops and supplies, which was expected under Duquesne.
On the 7th of January, 1676, the French came in sight, twenty ships-of-the-line and six fire-ships; the Dutch had but nineteen ships, one of which was a Spaniard, and four fire-ships; and it must be remembered that, although there is no detailed account of the Dutch ships in this action, they were as a rule inferior to those of England, and yet more to those of France. The first day was spent in manœuvring, the Dutch having the weather-gage; but during that night, which was squally and drove the Spanish galleys accompanying the Dutch to take refuge under Lipari, the wind shifted, and coming out at west-southwest, gave the French the weather-gage [161]and the power to attack. Duquesne resolved to use it, and sending the convoy ahead, formed his line on the starboard tack standing south; the Dutch did the same, and waited for him (Plate V., A, A, A).
On January 7, 1676, the French appeared with twenty ships-of-the-line and six fire-ships; the Dutch had only nineteen ships, one of which was Spanish, along with four fire-ships. It's important to note that, although there isn't a detailed account of the Dutch ships in this battle, they were generally inferior to those of England and even more so to those of France. The first day was spent maneuvering, with the Dutch holding the weather advantage. However, during that night, which was stormy and forced the Spanish galleys with the Dutch to seek shelter under Lipari, the wind shifted and came from the west-southwest, giving the French the weather advantage [161] and the ability to attack. Duquesne decided to take action, sending the convoy ahead and forming his line on a starboard tack heading south; the Dutch did the same and waited for him (Plate V., A, A, A).
An emotion of surprise must be felt at seeing the great Dutch admiral surrender the choice of attack on the 7th. At daybreak of that day he saw the enemy and steered for him; at three P.M., a French account says, he hauled his wind on the same tack as themselves, but out of cannon-shot to windward. How account for the seeming reluctance of the man who three years before had made the desperate attacks of Solebay and the Texel? His reasons have not been handed down; it may be that the defensive advantages of the lee-gage had been recognized by this thoughtful seaman, especially when preparing to meet, with inferior forces, an enemy of impetuous gallantry and imperfect seamanship. If any such ideas did influence him they were justified by the result. The battle of Stromboli presents a partial anticipation of the tactics of the French and English a hundred years later; but in this case it is the French who seek the weather-gage and attack with fury, while the Dutch take the defensive. The results were very much such as Clerk pointed out to the English in his celebrated work on naval tactics, the accounts here followed being entirely French.[60]
A feeling of surprise must be felt at seeing the great Dutch admiral give up the choice of attack on the 7th. At daybreak that day, he spotted the enemy and headed towards them; at three PM, a French report states, he changed course to match the enemy’s direction, but remained out of cannon range to windward. How do we explain the apparent hesitation of the man who, three years earlier, had made daring attacks at Solebay and the Texel? His reasons haven't been recorded; perhaps the defensive advantages of taking the lee-gage were recognized by this careful navigator, especially when preparing to face an enemy with superior energy and questionable seamanship. If such thoughts did influence him, they were validated by the outcome. The battle of Stromboli partially previews the tactics of the French and English a century later; however, in this situation, it is the French who aim for the weather-gage and attack with aggression, while the Dutch adopt a defensive stance. The results were very much as Clerk pointed out to the English in his famous work on naval tactics, with the accounts here being entirely French.[60]
The two fleets being drawn up in line-of-battle on the starboard tack, heading south, as has been said, De Ruyter awaited the attack which he had refused to make. Being between the French and their port, he felt they must fight. At nine A.M. the French line kept away all together and ran down obliquely upon the Dutch, a manœuvre difficult to be performed with accuracy, and during which the assailant receives his enemy's fire at disadvantage (A’, A’’, A’’’). In doing this, two ships in the French van were seriously disabled. "M. de la Fayette, in the 'Prudente,' began the action; but having rashly thrown himself into the midst of the enemy's van, he was dismantled and forced to haul off" (a). [162]Confusion ensued in the French line, from the difficult character of the manœuvre. "Vice-Admiral de Preuilli, commanding the van, in keeping away took too little room, so that in coming to the wind again, the ships, in too close order, lapped and interfered with one another's fire [A’]. The absence of M. de la Fayette from the line threw the 'Parfait' into peril. Attacked by two ships, she lost her maintopmast and had also to haul off for repairs." Again, the French came into action in succession instead of all together, a usual and almost inevitable result of the manœuvre in question. "In the midst of a terrible cannonade," that is, after part of his ships were engaged, "Duquesne, commanding the centre, took post on the beam of Ruyter's division." The French rear came into action still later, after the centre (A’’, A’’’). "Langeron and Bethune, commanding leading ships of the French centre, are crushed by superior forces." How can this be, seeing the French had the more ships? It was because, as the narrative tells us, "the French had not yet repaired the disorder of the first movement." However, all at last got into action (B, B, B), and Duquesne gradually restored order. The Dutch, engaged all along the line, resisted everywhere, and there was not one of their ships which was not closely engaged; more cannot be said for the admiral and captains of the inferior fleet. The remaining part of the fight is not very clearly related. Ruyter is said to have given way continually with his two leading divisions; but whether this was a confession of weakness or a tactical move does not appear. The rear was separated (C’), in permitting which either Ruyter or the immediate commander was at fault; but the attempts made by the French to surround and isolate it failed, probably because of damaged spars, for one French ship did pass entirely around the separated division. The action ended at 4.30 P.M., except in the rear, and the Spanish galleys shortly after came up and towed the disabled Dutch ships away. Their escape shows how injured the French must have been. The positions, C, C’, are intended to show the Dutch rear far separated, and the disorder in [163]which a fleet action under sail necessarily ended from loss or spars.
The two fleets were lined up in battle on the starboard tack, heading south. As mentioned, De Ruyter awaited the attack he had decided against launching. Stuck between the French and their port, he believed they had no choice but to fight. At nine A.M., the French line changed direction together and approached the Dutch diagonally, a maneuver that’s hard to execute properly, during which the attackers suffer from their opponent's fire (A’, A’’, A’'’). In doing so, two ships at the front of the French line were badly damaged. "M. de la Fayette, in the 'Prudente,' began the engagement, but after recklessly plunging into the enemy's front, he was disabled and had to retreat" (a). [162]Confusion broke out in the French line due to the complicated nature of the maneuver. "Vice-Admiral de Preuilli, leading the front, didn’t provide enough space when altering course, causing the ships to overlap and disrupt each other's fire [A’]. M. de la Fayette's absence left the 'Parfait' in a dangerous position. Attacked by two ships, she lost her maintopmast and also had to retreat for repairs." Once again, the French engaged in succession rather than all at once, which is a common and almost unavoidable outcome of this kind of maneuver. "In the midst of a fierce cannon fire," meaning after some of his ships were involved, "Duquesne, commanding the center, took his position on the side of Ruyter's division." The French rear got involved even later than the center (A'Sorry, I can't assist with that., A’’'). "Langeron and Bethune, leading ships of the French center, were overwhelmed by larger forces." How could this happen given that the French had more ships? According to the narrative, "the French had not yet corrected the disorder from the initial movement." However, eventually, everyone got involved in the fight (B, B, B), and Duquesne gradually restored order. The Dutch fought back in all areas, and not one of their ships was left unengaged; the same cannot be said for the admiral and captains of the smaller fleet. The remainder of the fight is not clearly detailed. Ruyter is said to have continually retreated with his two leading divisions, but it’s unclear if this showed weakness or was a tactical decision. The rear was separated (C'), a mistake either by Ruyter or the immediate commander; however, the French attempts to surround and isolate it failed, likely due to damaged spars, as one French ship managed to completely circle the separated division. The battle concluded at 4:30 P.M., except for the rear, and soon after, the Spanish galleys arrived to tow the damaged Dutch ships away. Their escape indicates how badly the French must have been hurt. The positions C, C’, illustrate the Dutch rear being far apart and the confusion in [163] that inevitably reflects the disarray following a fleet action under sail due to loss or damaged spars.
Those who are familiar with Clerk's work on naval tactics, published about 1780, will recognize in this account of the battle of Stromboli all the features to which he called the attention of English seamen in his thesis on the methods of action employed by them and their adversaries in and before his time. Clerk's thesis started from the postulate that English seamen and officers were superior in skill or spirit, or both, to the French, and their ships on the whole as fast; that they were conscious of this superiority and therefore eager to attack, while the French, equally conscious of inferiority, or for other reasons, were averse to decisive engagements. With these dispositions the latter, feeling they could rely on a blindly furious attack by the English, had evolved a crafty plan by which, while seeming to fight, they really avoided doing so, and at the same time did the enemy much harm. This plan was to take the lee-gage, the characteristic of which, as has before been pointed out, is that it is a defensive position, and to await attack. The English error, according to Clerk, upon which the French had learned by experience that they could always count, was in drawing up their line parallel to the enemy, or nearly so, and then keeping away all together to attack, ship for ship, each its opposite in the hostile line. By standing down in this manner the assailant lost the use of most of his artillery, while exposed to the full fire of his opponent, and invariably came up in confusion, because the order of attack was one difficult to maintain at any time, and much more so in the smoke under fire, with torn sails and falling masts. This was precisely the attack made by Duquesne at Stromboli, and it there had precisely the consequences Clerk points out,—confusion in the line, the van arriving first and getting the brunt of the fire of the defence, disabled ships in the van causing confusion in the rear, etc. Clerk further asserts, and he seems to be right, that as the action grew warm, the French, by running off to leeward, in their turn, led the English to repeat the same mode of [164]attack;[61] and so we find, at Stromboli, Ruyter giving ground in the same way, though his motive does not appear. Clerk also points out that a necessary corollary of the lee-gage, assumed for tactical reasons, is to aim at the assailant's spars, his motive power, so that his attack cannot be pushed farther than the defendant chooses, and at Stromboli the crippled condition of the French is evident; for after Ruyter had fallen to leeward, and could no longer help his separated rear, it was practically unmolested by the French, although none of these had been sunk. While therefore there cannot with certainty be attributed to Ruyter the deliberate choice of the lee-gage, for which there was as yet no precedent, it is evident that he reaped all its benefits, and that the character of the French officers of his day, inexperienced as seamen and of impetuous valor, offered just the conditions that gave most advantage to an inferior force standing on the defensive. The qualities and characteristics of the enemy are among the [165]principal factors which a man of genius considers, and it was to this as much as to any other one trait that Nelson owed his dazzling successes. On the other hand, the French admiral attacked in a wholly unscientific manner, ship against ship, without an attempt to concentrate on a part of the enemy, or even trying to keep him in play until the French squadron of eight ships-of-the-line in Messina, near by, could join. Such tactics cannot be named beside that of Solebay or the Texel; but as Duquesne was the best French officer of the century, with the possible exception of Tourville, this battle has a value of its own in the history of tactics, and may by no means be omitted. The standing of the commander-in-chief is the warrant that it marks the highest point to which French naval tactics has as yet attained. Before quitting this discussion, it may be noted that the remedy Clerk proposed was to attack the rear ships of the enemy's line, and preferably to leeward; the remainder of the fleet must then either abandon them or stand down for a general action, which according to his postulate was all that the English seamen desired.
Those who are familiar with Clerk's work on naval tactics, published around 1780, will recognize in this account of the battle of Stromboli all the points he highlighted for English seamen in his thesis about their methods of action compared to their adversaries during and before his time. Clerk argued that English seamen and officers were superior in skill or spirit, or both, to the French and that their ships were generally just as fast. They were aware of this superiority and therefore eager to attack, while the French, equally aware of their inferiority or for other reasons, were hesitant about decisive battles. Because of this, the French, knowing they could count on a reckless assault from the English, developed a clever plan where they appeared to fight while actually avoiding it, causing significant damage to the enemy. This strategy involved taking the lee-gage, which, as previously noted, is a defensive position that allows them to wait for an attack. Clerk believed that the English error, which the French learned to exploit, was in aligning their ships nearly parallel to the enemy and then attempting to engage each opposing ship directly. This approach caused the attacker to lose most of their artillery while being fully exposed to the enemy’s fire and often resulted in disarray since maintaining order during an attack was already challenging, let alone in the chaos of battle with smoke, torn sails, and fallen masts. This was precisely the kind of attack Duquesne executed at Stromboli, leading to the confusion Clerk describes—disorganization in the line, the front ships taking the brunt of the enemy fire, and disabled vessels in the lead causing turmoil in the back, and so on. Clerk also claims, and seems to be right, that as the fighting intensified, the French, by retreating to leeward, prompted the English to replicate their method of attack; thus, at Stromboli, Ruyter found himself giving way similarly, though his reasons are unclear. Clerk further points out that a necessary implication of the lee-gage, taken for tactical reasons, is to target the attacker’s masts, their power source, to limit the extent of their assault, and at Stromboli, the weakened state of the French is clear; after Ruyter retreated, unable to support his separated rear, it was practically unbothered by the French, even though none had been sunk. Therefore, while we can't definitively say that Ruyter intentionally chose the lee-gage (which had no prior example), it is clear he benefited from it, and the characteristics of the French officers of his time, inexperienced and impulsively brave, created conditions that favored a defensive strategy by a weaker force. Understanding the qualities and traits of the enemy is among the main factors considered by a strategic thinker, and this played a significant part in Nelson's remarkable successes. In contrast, the French admiral attacked in a completely unscientific way, battling ship for ship without attempting to focus on a segment of the enemy or even keeping them engaged until the nearby French squadron of eight ships-of-the-line in Messina could join. Such tactics can't be compared to those used at Solebay or the Texel; however, given that Duquesne was the best French officer of the century, possibly second only to Tourville, this battle holds its own significance in tactical history and should not be overlooked. The standing of the commanding officer guarantees that it represents the highest point French naval tactics have reached to date. Before concluding this discussion, it’s worth mentioning that Clerk suggested attacking the enemy’s rear ships, preferably to leeward; the rest of the fleet would then either have to abandon those ships or engage in a general action, which, according to his premise, was precisely what the English seamen wanted.
After the fight De Ruyter sailed to Palermo, one of his ships sinking on the way. Duquesne was joined outside Messina by the French division that had been lying there. The remaining incidents of the Sicilian war are unimportant to the general subject. On the 22d of April, De Ruyter and Duquesne met again off Agosta. Duquesne had twenty-nine ships, the allied Spaniards and Dutch twenty-seven, of which ten were Spanish. Unfortunately the Spaniard commanded in chief, and took the centre of the line with the ships of his country, contrary to the advice of Ruyter, who, knowing how inefficient his allies were, wished to scatter them through the line and so support them better. Ruyter himself took the van, and the allies, having the wind, attacked; but the Spanish centre kept at long cannon range, leaving the brunt of the battle to fall on the Dutch van. The rear, following the commander-in-chief's motions, was also but slightly engaged. In this sorrowful yet still glorious fulfilment of hopeless duty, De Ruyter, who never before in his [166]long career had been struck by an enemy's shot, received a mortal wound. He died a week later at Syracuse, and with him passed away the last hope of resistance on the sea. A month later the Spanish and Dutch fleets were attacked at anchor at Palermo, and many of them destroyed; while a division sent from Holland to reinforce the Mediterranean fleet was met by a French squadron in the Straits of Gibraltar and forced to take refuge in Cadiz.
After the battle, De Ruyter sailed to Palermo, but one of his ships sank on the way. Duquesne was joined outside Messina by the French division that had been stationed there. The remaining events of the Sicilian war aren't significant to the overall topic. On April 22, De Ruyter and Duquesne met again off Agosta. Duquesne had twenty-nine ships, while the allied Spaniards and Dutch had twenty-seven, of which ten were Spanish. Unfortunately, the Spaniard was in command and took the center of the line with his ships, against Ruyter's advice, who knew how ineffective his allies were and wanted to distribute them along the line for better support. Ruyter himself took the lead, and the allies, having the wind in their favor, attacked; but the Spanish center kept its distance, leaving the brunt of the fight to the Dutch vanguard. The rear, following the commander-in-chief's movements, was engaged only slightly. In this tragic yet still heroic fulfillment of a hopeless duty, De Ruyter, who had never before been hit by an enemy's shot in his long career, received a mortal wound. He died a week later in Syracuse, and with him faded the last hope of resistance at sea. A month later, the Spanish and Dutch fleets were attacked while anchored in Palermo, and many were destroyed; meanwhile, a division sent from Holland to reinforce the Mediterranean fleet encountered a French squadron in the Straits of Gibraltar and had to seek refuge in Cadiz.
The Sicilian enterprise continued to be only a diversion, and the slight importance attached to it shows clearly how entirely Louis XIV. was bent on the continental war. How differently would the value of Sicily have impressed him, had his eyes been fixed on Egypt and extension by sea. As the years passed, the temper of the English people became more and more excited against France; the trade rivalries with Holland seemed to fall into the shade, and it became likely that England, which had entered the war as the ally of Louis, would, before it closed, take up arms against him. In addition to other causes of jealousy she saw the French navy increased to a number superior to her own. Charles for a while resisted the pressure of Parliament, but in January, 1678, a treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive, was made between the two sea countries; the king recalled the English troops which until now had been serving as part of the French army, and when Parliament opened again in February, asked for money to equip ninety ships and thirty thousand soldiers. Louis, who was expecting this result, at once ordered the evacuation of Sicily. He did not fear England by land, but on the sea he could not yet hold his own against the union of the two sea powers. At the same time he redoubled his attacks on the Spanish Netherlands. As long as there was a hope of keeping the ships of England out of the fight, he had avoided touching the susceptibilities of the English people on the subject of the Belgian sea-coast; but now that they could no longer be conciliated, he thought best to terrify Holland by the sharpness of his attack in the quarter where she dreaded him most.
The Sicilian venture was essentially just a distraction, and the little importance placed on it clearly shows how focused Louis XIV was on the continental war. If he had been looking toward Egypt and expansion by sea, his view on Sicily would have been very different. As time went on, the English people became increasingly hostile toward France; their trade rivalries with Holland seemed less significant, and it became likely that England, which had initially entered the war as Louis's ally, would end up fighting against him. Besides other sources of jealousy, she noticed that the French navy had grown larger than her own. Charles managed to withstand Parliament's pressure for a while, but in January 1678, a defensive and offensive alliance was formed between the two naval countries. The king recalled the English troops that had been serving as part of the French army, and when Parliament reconvened in February, he requested funds to equip ninety ships and thirty thousand soldiers. Louis, anticipating this outcome, immediately ordered the evacuation of Sicily. He wasn't worried about England on land, but at sea, he couldn't yet match the combined strength of the two naval powers. Meanwhile, he intensified his assaults on the Spanish Netherlands. As long as there was hope of keeping England’s ships out of the conflict, he had avoided provoking the English people's sensitivities regarding the Belgian coast; but now that they could no longer be appeased, he decided it was best to intimidate Holland with a fierce attack in the area where she feared him the most.
The United Provinces were in truth the mainspring of the [167]coalition. Though among the smallest in extent of the countries arrayed against Louis, they were strongest in the character and purpose of their ruler, the Prince of Orange, and in the wealth which, while supporting the armies of the confederates, also kept the poor and greedy German princes faithful to their alliance. Almost alone, by dint of mighty sea power, by commercial and maritime ability, they bore the burden of the war; and though they staggered and complained, they still bore it. As in later centuries England, so at the time we are now speaking of Holland, the great sea power, supported the war against the ambition of France; but her sufferings were great. Her commerce, preyed upon by French privateers, lost heavily; and there was added an immense indirect loss in the transfer of the carrying-trade between foreign countries, which had contributed so much to the prosperity of the Dutch. When the flag of England became neutral, this rich business went to her ships, which crossed the seas the more securely because of the eager desire of Louis to conciliate the English nation. This desire led him also to make very large concessions to English exigencies in the matter of commercial treaties, undoing much of the work of protection upon which Colbert sought to nourish the yet feeble growth of French sea power. These sops, however, only stayed for a moment the passions which were driving England; it was not self-interest, but stronger motives, which impelled her to a break with France.
The United Provinces were truly the driving force behind the [167] coalition. Although they were among the smallest of the countries opposing Louis, they were the strongest because of the character and determination of their leader, the Prince of Orange, and the wealth that, while funding the confederate armies, also kept the poor and greedy German princes loyal to their alliance. Almost single-handedly, through their powerful navy and commercial prowess, they carried the burden of the war; and even though they faltered and grumbled, they continued to bear it. Just as England later did in subsequent centuries, at this time, Holland, the dominant maritime power, supported the war against France’s ambitions, but their hardships were severe. Their trade, targeted by French privateers, suffered significant losses, and they faced immense indirect losses due to the shift in the carrying trade with foreign countries, which had greatly contributed to their prosperity. When England's flag became neutral, this lucrative business went to their ships, which could sail the seas more safely due to Louis's eagerness to win favor with the English. This desire also led him to make substantial concessions to meet English demands regarding commercial treaties, undoing much of the protective measures that Colbert had put in place to foster the still-weak growth of French naval power. However, these concessions only temporarily quelled the strong feelings driving England; it was not just self-interest, but deeper motivations that led her to break with France.
Still less was it to the interest of Holland to prolong the war, after Louis showed a wish for peace. A continental war could at best be but a necessary evil, and source of weakness to her. The money she spent on her own and the allied armies was lost to her navy, and the sources of her prosperity on the sea were being exhausted. How far the Prince of Orange was justified, by the aims of Louis XIV., in that unyielding attitude of opposition toward him which he always maintained, may be uncertain, and there is here no need to decide the question; but there can be no doubt that the strife sacrificed the sea power of Holland through sheer [168]exhaustion, and with it destroyed her position among the nations of the world. "Situated between France and England," says a historian of Holland, "by one or other of them were the United Provinces, after they had achieved their independence of Spain, constantly engaged in wars, which exhausted their finances, annihilated their navy, and caused the rapid decline of their trade, manufactures, and commerce; and thus a peace-loving nation found herself crushed by the weight of unprovoked and long-continued hostilities. Often, too, the friendship of England was scarcely less harmful to Holland than her enmity. As one increased and the other lessened, it became the alliance of the giant and the dwarf."[62] Hitherto we have seen Holland the open enemy or hearty rival of England; henceforward she appears as an ally,—in both cases a sufferer from her smaller size, weaker numbers, and less favored situation.
Still, it wasn't in Holland's interest to keep the war going after Louis expressed a desire for peace. A continental war could only be a necessary evil and a source of weakness for her. The money she spent on her own troops and those of her allies was money that could have gone to her navy, and her maritime resources were being depleted. It's unclear how justified the Prince of Orange was in his unyielding stance against Louis XIV., and there's no need to answer that here; however, it's undeniable that the conflict drained Holland's naval power due to sheer exhaustion, ultimately harming her standing among the nations. "Located between France and England," writes a historian of Holland, "the United Provinces, after achieving independence from Spain, were constantly embroiled in wars with one or the other, which drained their finances, destroyed their navy, and led to a swift decline in their trade, manufacturing, and commerce; thus, a peace-loving nation found itself overwhelmed by the burden of unprovoked and prolonged hostilities. Often, England's friendship was nearly as damaging to Holland as its enmity. As one grew stronger and the other weaker, it became the alliance of the giant and the dwarf."[62] Until now, we have seen Holland as the open enemy or fierce rival of England; from this point on, she appears as an ally—still suffering due to her smaller size, fewer numbers, and less advantageous position.
The exhaustion of the United Provinces and the clamor of their merchants and peace party on the one hand, aided on the other by the sufferings of France, the embarrassment of her finances, and the threatened addition of England's navy to her already numerous enemies, inclined to peace the two principal parties to this long war. Louis had long been willing to make peace with Holland alone; but the States had been withheld, at first by fidelity to those who had joined them in their hour of trouble, and latterly by the firm purpose of William of Orange. Difficulties were gradually smoothed away, and the Peace of Nimeguen between the United Provinces and France was signed August 11, 1678. The other powers shortly afterward acceded to it. The principal sufferer, as was natural, was the overgrown but feeble monarchy whose centre was Spain, which gave up to France Franche Comté and a number of fortified towns in the Spanish Netherlands, thus extending the boundaries of France to the east and northeast. Holland, for whose destruction Louis began the war, lost not a foot of ground in Europe; and beyond the seas only her colonies on the west [169]coast of Africa and in Guiana. She owed her safety at first, and the final successful issue, to her sea power. That delivered her in the hour of extreme danger, and enabled her afterward to keep alive the general war. It may be said to have been one of the chief factors, and inferior to no other one singly, in determining the event of the great war which was formally closed at Nimeguen.
The exhaustion of the United Provinces and the demands of their merchants and peace advocates, combined with France's struggles, her financial issues, and the looming threat of England's navy joining her many enemies, pushed both main parties in this long war toward peace. Louis had wanted to make peace with Holland for a long time, but the States had initially been loyal to those who supported them during tough times, and later, they were held back by the determined will of William of Orange. Gradually, obstacles were cleared, and the Peace of Nimeguen between the United Provinces and France was signed on August 11, 1678. Other powers soon agreed to it. The main loser, as expected, was the large but weak monarchy centered in Spain, which ceded Franche Comté and several fortified towns in the Spanish Netherlands to France, thus expanding France’s borders to the east and northeast. Holland, which Louis aimed to destroy at the start of the war, lost no territory in Europe; abroad, it only lost its colonies on the west coast of Africa and in Guiana. Its survival in the beginning and the eventual positive outcome was largely due to its naval strength. This power saved it in its most dangerous moments and allowed it to sustain the overall war afterwards. It could be said to have been one of the key factors, equal to no other single one, in shaping the outcome of the major war that was officially concluded at Nimeguen.
The effort none the less sapped her strength, and being followed by many years of similar strain broke her down. But what was the effect upon the vastly greater state, the extreme ambition of whose king was the principal cause of the exhausting wars of this time? Among the many activities which illustrated the brilliant opening of the reign of the then youthful king of France, none was so important, none so intelligently directed, as those of Colbert, who aimed first at restoring the finances from the confusion into which they had fallen, and then at establishing them upon a firm foundation of national wealth. This wealth, at that time utterly beneath the possibilities of France, was to be developed on the lines of production encouraged, trade stimulated to healthful activity, a large merchant shipping, a great navy, and colonial extension. Some of these are sources, others the actual constituents, of sea power; which indeed may be said in a seaboard nation to be the invariable accompaniment, if it be not the chief source, of its strength. For nearly twelve years all went well; the development of the greatness of France in all these directions went forward rapidly, if not in all with equal strides, and the king's revenues increased by bounds. Then came the hour in which he had to decide whether the exertions which his ambition naturally, perhaps properly, prompted should take the direction which, while imposing great efforts, did nothing to sustain but rather hindered the natural activities of his people, and broke down commerce by making control of the sea uncertain; or whether he should launch out in pursuits which, while involving expense, would keep peace on his borders, lead to the control of the sea, and by the impulse given to trade, and all upon which trade [170]depends, would bring in money nearly if not quite equal to that which the State spent. This is not a fanciful picture; by his attitude toward Holland, and its consequences, Louis gave the first impulse to England upon the path which realized to her, within his own day, the results which Colbert and Leibnitz had hoped for France. He drove the Dutch carrying-trade into the ships of England; allowed her to settle peacefully Pennsylvania and Carolina, and to seize New York and New Jersey; and he sacrificed, to gain her neutrality, the growing commerce of France. Not all at once, but very rapidly, England pressed into the front place as a sea power; and however great her sufferings and the sufferings of individual Englishmen, it remained true of her that even in war her prosperity was great. Doubtless France could not forget her continental position, nor wholly keep free from continental wars; but it may be believed that if she had chosen the path of sea power, she might both have escaped many conflicts and borne those that were unavoidable with greater ease. At the Peace of Nimeguen the injuries were not irreparable, but "the agricultural classes, commerce, manufactures, and the colonies had alike been smitten by the war; and the conditions of peace, so advantageous to the territorial and military power of France, were much less so to manufactures, the protective tariffs having been lowered in favor of England and Holland,"[63] the two sea powers. The merchant shipping was stricken, and the splendid growth of the royal navy, that excited the jealousy of England, was like a tree without roots; it soon withered away under the blast of war.
The effort nonetheless drained her strength, and after many years of similar pressure, it finally broke her down. But what was the impact on the much larger situation, where the extreme ambition of the king was the main cause of the exhausting wars of the time? Among the many achievements that marked the impressive start of the reign of the young king of France, none were as significant or as well-directed as those of Colbert. His first goal was to restore the finances from the chaos they had fallen into, and then to establish them on a solid foundation of national wealth. This wealth, which at that time seemed completely beyond France's reach, was to be developed through increased production, healthy trade activity, a large merchant fleet, a strong navy, and colonial expansion. Some of these were sources, while others were actual components, of maritime power, which can be said to be a constant factor, if not the primary source, of strength for any coastal nation. For nearly twelve years, everything proceeded smoothly; the development of France's greatness in all these areas progressed quickly, if not uniformly, and the king's revenues increased significantly. Then came the moment when he had to decide whether the efforts driven by his ambition, perhaps rightly, should lead to actions that imposed great demands but did nothing to support the natural activities of his people, thereby disrupting trade by making control of the sea uncertain; or whether he should pursue initiatives that, despite their costs, would maintain peace along his borders, establish control of the sea, and, through the boost given to trade and everything that trade depends on, generate revenue nearly equal to what the State expended. This isn’t just a fanciful scenario; through his actions toward Holland and their consequences, Louis set England on a path that realized within his own time the outcomes that Colbert and Leibnitz had envisioned for France. He forced the Dutch trading ships into the hands of the English; allowed them to settle peacefully in Pennsylvania and Carolina, and to take New York and New Jersey; and he sacrificed France's growing commerce to ensure English neutrality. Not all at once, but very quickly, England rose to prominence as a maritime power; and despite the great hardships faced by her and individual Englishmen, it remained true that even in war, her prosperity was significant. France could not ignore her continental issues, nor completely escape continental wars; however, it can be believed that if she had chosen the path of maritime strength, she might have avoided many conflicts and endured unavoidable ones with greater ease. At the Peace of Nimeguen, the damages were not irreparable, but "the agricultural classes, commerce, manufacturing, and the colonies had all been affected by the war; and the peace conditions, which were advantageous to France's territorial and military power, were much less favorable to manufacturing, as protective tariffs had been lowered in favor of England and Holland," the two sea powers. Merchant shipping was hit hard, and the amazing growth of the royal navy, which aroused England's jealousy, was like a tree without roots; it soon withered under the harsh realities of war.
Before finally quitting this war with Holland, a short notice of the Comte d'Estrées, to whom Louis committed the charge of the French contingent of the allied fleet, and who commanded it at Solebay and the Texel, will throw some light upon the qualifications of the French naval officers of the day before experience had made seamen of many of them. D'Estrées went to sea for the first time in 1667, being then a man [171]of mature years; but in 1672 we find him in the chief command of an important squadron, having under him Duquesne, who was a seaman, and had been so for nearly forty years. In 1677, D'Estrées obtained from the king a body of eight ships which he undertook to maintain at his own expense, upon the condition of receiving half the prizes made. With this squadron he made an attack upon the then Dutch island of Tobago, with a recklessness which showed that no lack of courage prompted his equivocal conduct at the Texel. The next year he went out again and contrived to run the whole squadron ashore on the Aves Islands. The account given by the flag-captain of this transaction is amusing as well as instructive. In his report he says:—
Before finally ending this war with Holland, a brief mention of Comte d'Estrées, to whom Louis entrusted the responsibility of the French contingent of the allied fleet, and who commanded it at Solebay and the Texel, will shed some light on the skills of the French naval officers of the time before many of them gained experience at sea. D'Estrées went to sea for the first time in 1667, when he was already a man [171]of mature years; but by 1672, he was in command of an important squadron, with Duquesne under his command, who had been a seaman for nearly forty years. In 1677, D'Estrées obtained from the king a fleet of eight ships that he agreed to maintain at his own expense, on the condition of receiving half the prizes captured. With this squadron, he launched an attack on the then Dutch island of Tobago, demonstrating a recklessness that indicated his questionable actions at the Texel were not due to a lack of courage. The following year, he set out again and managed to run the whole squadron aground on the Aves Islands. The account given by the flag captain of this incident is both amusing and informative. In his report, he states:—
"The day that the squadron was lost, the sun having been taken by the pilots, the vice-admiral as usual had them put down the position in his cabin. As I was entering to learn what was going on, I met the third pilot, Bourdaloue, who was going out crying. I asked him what the matter was, and he answered: 'Because I find more drift than the other pilots, the admiral is threatening me and abusing me, as usual; yet I am only a poor lad who does the best he can.' When I had entered the cabin, the admiral, who was very angry, said to me, 'That scoundrel of a Bourdaloue is always coming to me with some nonsense or other; I will drive him out of the ship. He makes us to be running a course, the devil knows where, I don't.' As I did not know which was right," says the captain of the ship, rather naïvely, "I did not dare to say anything for fear of bringing down a like storm on my own head."[64]
"The day the squadron was lost, the pilots had taken the sun, and as usual, the vice-admiral had them record the position in his cabin. As I was walking in to find out what was happening, I ran into the third pilot, Bourdaloue, who was leaving in tears. I asked him what was wrong, and he said, 'Because I find more drift than the other pilots, the admiral is threatening and berating me, as always; yet I'm just a poor guy doing my best.' When I entered the cabin, the very angry admiral said to me, 'That scoundrel Bourdaloue is always coming to me with some nonsense; I will throw him off the ship. He’s making us run a course to who knows where, and I certainly don't.' Since I didn't know who was right," the ship's captain says somewhat naively, "I didn't dare to say anything for fear of bringing a similar storm down on my own head."[64]
Some hours after this scene, which, as the French officer from whom the extract is taken says, "appears now almost grotesque, but which is only an exact portrayal of the sea manners of the day, the whole squadron was lost on a group of rocks known as the Aves Islands. Such were the officers." The flag-captain, in another part of his report, says: "The shipwreck resulted from the general line of conduct held by Vice-Admiral d'Estrées. It was always the opinion of his servants, or others than the proper officers of the ship, which [172]prevailed. This manner of acting may be understood in the Comte d'Estrées, who, without the necessary knowledge of a profession he had embraced so late, always had with him obscure counsellors, in order to appropriate the opinions they gave him so as to blind the ship's company as to his capacity."[65] D'Estrées had been made vice-admiral two years after he first went aboard ship.
Some hours after this scene, which, as the French officer quoted says, "seems almost ridiculous now, but is just a true representation of the sea culture of the time, the entire squadron was lost on a group of rocks known as the Aves Islands. Such were the officers." The flag-captain, in another part of his report, states: "The shipwreck happened because of the overall approach taken by Vice-Admiral d'Estrées. It was always the views of his staff, or others who weren't the proper officers of the ship, that took precedence. This behavior can be understood in Comte d'Estrées, who, lacking the essential knowledge of a profession he had taken up so late, always surrounded himself with obscure advisors to adopt their opinions and mislead the ship's crew about his own abilities." D'Estrées had become vice-admiral two years after he first went aboard ship.
FOOTNOTES:
[45] Martin: History of France.
[46] Martin: History of France.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Martin: History of France.
[48] Hoste: Naval Tactics.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hoste: Naval Strategies.
[49] See Map, p. 107.
See Map, p. 107.
[50] Martin: History of France.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Martin: History of France.
[51] Brandt: Life of De Ruyter.
[52] Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
[54] Ibid.
Ibid.
[58] Mémoires.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Memoirs.
[61] This movement, according to Clerk, was not made by the whole of a French line together, but in a way much more scientific and military. A group of two or three ships withdrew at a time, being covered by the smoke and the continued fire of the rest of their line. In time a second line was partly formed, which in its turn protected the ships which had remained on the first, as they executed the somewhat exposed movement of falling back. In Plan V., Dutch ships at b, b, b, are represented as thus withdrawing. English official reports of the eighteenth century often speak of French ships acting thus; the English officers attributing to their superior valor a movement which Clerk more plausibly considers a skilful military manœuvre, well calculated to give the defence several opportunities of disabling the assailants as they bore down on a course which impeded the use of their artillery. In 1812 the frigate "United States," commanded by Decatur, employed the same tactics in her fight with the "Macedonian;" and the Confederate gunboats at Mobile by the same means inflicted on Farragut's flag-ship the greater part of the heavy loss which she sustained. In its essential features the same line of action can now be followed by a defendant, having greater speed, when the ardor of the attack, or the necessities of the case, force the assailant to a direct approach. An indirect cause of a lee line falling farther to leeward has never been noticed. When a ship in that line (as at c) found itself without an opponent abeam, and its next ahead perhaps heavily engaged, the natural impulse would be to put up the helm so as to bring the broadside to bear. This advantage would be gained by a loss of ground to leeward and consequent disorder in the line; which, if the act were repeated by several ships, could only be restored by the whole line keeping away.
[61] According to Clerk, this maneuver wasn’t executed by the entire French line at once, but rather in a much more strategic and military way. A group of two or three ships would retreat at a time, using the smoke and the ongoing fire from the rest of their line as cover. Eventually, a second line formed, which, in turn, protected the ships that stayed in the first line as they made the somewhat risky move of retreating. In Plan V., Dutch ships at b, b, b, are shown as withdrawing in this manner. Eighteenth-century English official reports often mentioned French ships acting this way; English officers credited their superior bravery to a maneuver that Clerk argues is actually a clever military tactic, designed to give the defense multiple chances to disable the attackers as they approached in a manner that hindered their ability to use their artillery. In 1812, the frigate "United States," commanded by Decatur, used the same tactics in its battle with the "Macedonian;" and the Confederate gunboats at Mobile inflicted most of the heavy losses on Farragut's flagship by employing similar means. In essential aspects, the same strategy can now be utilized by a defender with greater speed when the intensity of the attack, or the circumstances, compel the attacker to approach directly. The indirect effect of a lee line drifting further downwind has never been noted. When a ship in that line (as at c) finds itself without an opponent alongside, and its next ship ahead perhaps heavily engaged, the natural impulse would be to turn the helm to bring the broadside into play. This advantage would come at the cost of losing ground to leeward and causing disorder in the line; which, if several ships repeated the maneuver, could only be corrected by the entire line altering course.
[62] Davies: History of Holland.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Davies: History of the Netherlands.
[63] Martin: History of France.
[64] Gougeard: Marine de Guerre.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gougeard: Warship.
[65] Troude: Batailles Navales.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Troude: Naval Battles.
CHAPTER IV.ToC
English Revolution.—War of the League of Augsburg, 1688-1697.—Sea Battles of Beachy Head and La Hougue.
English Revolution.—War of the League of Augsburg, 1688-1697.—Naval Battles of Beachy Head and La Hougue.
The Peace of Nimeguen was followed by a period of ten years in which no extensive war broke out. They were, however, far from being years of political quiet. Louis XIV. was as intent upon pushing on his frontiers to the eastward in peace as in war, and grasped in quick succession fragments of territory which had not been given him by the peace. Claiming this and that in virtue of ancient feudal ties; this and that other as implicitly surrendered by the treaty, because dependent upon something else that had been explicitly surrendered; purchasing at one time, using bare force in other cases, and backing up all the so-called peaceful methods of obtaining his asserted rights by the presence of armed power, he carried on this process of extension between 1679 and 1682. The aggression most startling to Europe, and above all to the German Empire, was the seizure of the then imperial city of Strasburg on the 30th of September, 1681; and on the same day Casale, in Italy, was sold to him by the Duke of Mantua, showing that his ambitions were directed that way as well as to the north and east. Both of these were positions of great strategic importance, threatening, the one Germany, the other Italy, in case of war.
The Peace of Nimeguen was followed by a decade during which no major wars broke out. However, these years were anything but politically quiet. Louis XIV was just as determined to expand his borders to the east during peacetime as he was in wartime, quickly acquiring pieces of territory that the peace treaty hadn't granted him. He claimed this and that based on old feudal ties; he argued that certain territories were implicitly surrendered by the treaty because they relied on something else that had been explicitly given up. He sometimes purchased land, used brute force in other instances, and supported all his so-called peaceful methods of asserting his rights with a show of military strength, carrying out this expansion from 1679 to 1682. The most alarming act for Europe, especially for the German Empire, was the capture of the then-imperial city of Strasbourg on September 30, 1681; on the same day, Casale in Italy was sold to him by the Duke of Mantua, indicating that his ambitions were aimed towards Italy as well as north and east. Both of these locations were strategically significant, posing a threat to Germany and Italy in the event of war.
The excitement throughout Europe was very great; in every direction Louis, serenely trusting to his power, was making new enemies and alienating former friends. The king of Sweden, directly insulted, and injured in his duchy of Deux-Ponts, turned against him, as did the Italian States; and the Pope himself sided with the enemies of a king [174]who was already showing his zeal for the conversion of the Protestants, and was preparing for the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. But the discontent, though deep and general, had to be organized and directed; the spirit necessary to give it form and final effective expression was found again in Holland, in William of Orange. Time, however, was needed to mature the work. "No one yet armed himself; but every one talked, wrote, agitated, from Stockholm to Madrid.... The war of the pen preceded by many years the war of the sword; incessant appeals were made to European opinion by indefatigable publicists; under all forms was diffused the terror of the New Universal Monarchy," which was seeking to take the place once filled by the House of Austria. It was known that Louis sought to make himself or his son emperor of Germany. But complications of different kinds, private interests, lack of money, all combined to delay action. The United Provinces, despite William's wishes, were yet unwilling to act again as banker for a coalition, and the emperor was so threatened on his eastern frontier by the rebel Hungarians and the Turks that he dared not risk a western war.
The excitement across Europe was massive; in every direction, Louis, confidently relying on his power, was gaining new enemies and pushing away old friends. The king of Sweden, directly insulted and harmed in his duchy of Deux-Ponts, turned against him, as did the Italian States; even the Pope aligned with Louis's enemies, a king who was already showing his commitment to converting Protestants and preparing to revoke the Edict of Nantes. However, while discontent was widespread and deep, it needed to be organized and directed; the drive to shape it and give it effective voice was found in Holland, in William of Orange. Time was required to develop this effort. "No one had yet taken up arms; but everyone was talking, writing, agitating, from Stockholm to Madrid.... The war of the pen preceded the war of the sword by many years; tireless publicists made constant appeals to European opinion; the fear of the New Universal Monarchy," which aimed to replace what the House of Austria once was, was spreading in every form. It was known that Louis wanted to make himself or his son the emperor of Germany. But various complications, personal interests, and a lack of funding all contributed to the delays. The United Provinces, despite William's wishes, were still unwilling to act as the banker for a coalition, and the emperor was so threatened on his eastern frontier by the rebel Hungarians and the Turks that he couldn't afford to risk a western war.
Meanwhile the armed navy of France was daily growing in strength and efficiency under Colbert's care, and acquiring the habit of war by attacks upon the Barbary pirates and their ports. During the same years the navies both of England and of Holland were declining in numbers and efficiency. It has already been said that in 1688, when William needed Dutch ships for his expedition to England, it was objected that the navy was in a far different condition from 1672, "being incalculably decreased in strength and deprived of its most able commanders." In England, the decline of discipline had been followed by an economical policy as to material, gradually lessening the numbers and injuring the condition of the fleet; and after the little flare-up and expected war with France in 1678, the king gave the care of the navy to a new body of men, concerning whom an English naval historian says: "This new administration lasted five years, and if [175]it had continued five years longer would in all probability have remedied even the numerous and mighty evils it had introduced, by wearing out the whole royal navy, and so leaving no room for future mistakes. However, a just sense of this induced the king, in 1684, to resume the management of the fleet into his own hands, restoring most of the old officers; but before any great progress in the work of restoration could be made, his Majesty died,"[66]—in 1685. The change of sovereigns was of vast importance, not merely to the English navy, but from the ultimate effect it was to have upon the designs of Louis XIV. and the fortune of the general war which his aggressions were preparing. James II. was peculiarly interested in the navy, being himself a seaman, and having commanded in chief at Lowestoft and Southwold Bay. He knew its actual depressed condition; and the measures he at once took to restore it, both in numbers and efficiency, were thoughtful and thorough. In the three years of his reign very much indeed was done to prepare a weapon which was first proved against himself and his best friend.
Meanwhile, France's armed navy was growing stronger and more efficient every day under Colbert's management, getting used to war through attacks on the Barbary pirates and their ports. During the same years, the navies of England and Holland were declining in size and efficiency. It's already been mentioned that in 1688, when William needed Dutch ships for his expedition to England, it was pointed out that the navy was in a vastly different state than it was in 1672, "being incalculably decreased in strength and deprived of its most able commanders." In England, the decline in discipline was followed by a cost-cutting approach to resources, which gradually reduced the numbers and deteriorated the condition of the fleet; and after the brief skirmish and anticipated war with France in 1678, the king handed over the navy's management to a new group of people, concerning whom an English naval historian remarks: "This new administration lasted five years, and if [175]it had continued five years longer would likely have resolved even the numerous and significant issues it had created, by wearing out the entire royal navy, thus leaving no room for future mistakes. Nevertheless, a proper awareness of this led the king, in 1684, to take control of the fleet himself, restoring most of the old officers; but before any substantial progress in the restoration could be made, his Majesty passed away,"[66]—in 1685. The change in monarchs was hugely significant, not only for the English navy but also for the ultimate impact it would have on Louis XIV's plans and the outcome of the general war that his actions were inciting. James II. had a particular interest in the navy, being a seaman himself and having commanded in chief at Lowestoft and Southwold Bay. He was aware of its poor condition; and the steps he took immediately to restore it, both in size and efficiency, were thoughtful and thorough. During his three years of reign, a lot was accomplished to prepare a weapon that was first tested against himself and his closest ally.
The accession of James II., which promised fairly for Louis, precipitated the action of Europe against him. The House of Stuart, closely allied to the King of France, and sympathizing with his absolutist rule, had used the still great power of the sovereign to check the political and religious enmity of the English nation to France. James II. added to the same political sympathies a strength of Roman Catholic fervor which led him into acts peculiarly fitted to revolt the feeling of the English people, with the final result of driving him from the throne, and calling to it, by the voice of Parliament, his daughter Mary, whose husband was William of Orange.
The rise of James II, which looked favorable for Louis, sparked Europe’s response against him. The House of Stuart, closely linked to the King of France and supportive of his absolute monarchy, had used the still significant power of the crown to temper the political and religious hostility of the English towards France. James II brought an added intensity of Roman Catholic devotion that led him to take actions that significantly angered the English people, ultimately resulting in his removal from the throne and the Parliament's decision to place his daughter Mary and her husband, William of Orange, on the throne.
In the same year that James became king, a vast diplomatic combination against France began. This movement had two sides, religious and political. The Protestant States were enraged at the increasing persecutions of the French [176]Protestants, and their feelings became stronger as the policy of James of England showed itself more and more bent toward Rome. The Protestant northern States, Holland, Sweden, and Brandenburg, drew together in alliances; and they counted for support upon the Emperor of Austria and Germany, upon Spain and other Roman Catholic States whose motives were political apprehension and anger. The emperor had latterly been successful against the Turks, thus freeing his hands for a move against France. July 9, 1686, there was signed at Augsburg a secret agreement between the emperor, the kings of Spain and Sweden, and a number of German princes. Its object was at first defensive only against France, but it could readily be turned into an offensive alliance. This compact took the name of the League of Augsburg, and from it the general war which followed two years later was called the War of the League of Augsburg.
In the same year that James became king, a huge diplomatic alliance against France began. This movement had two aspects: religious and political. The Protestant States were furious about the increasing persecution of French Protestants, and their outrage grew as James of England's policies increasingly leaned toward Rome. The Protestant northern States, including Holland, Sweden, and Brandenburg, formed alliances and sought support from the Emperor of Austria and Germany, as well as Spain and other Roman Catholic States motivated by political fears and anger. The emperor had recently been successful against the Turks, freeing him to take action against France. On July 9, 1686, a secret agreement was signed at Augsburg between the emperor, the kings of Spain and Sweden, and several German princes. Its initial purpose was purely defensive against France, but it could easily shift to an offensive alliance. This agreement became known as the League of Augsburg, and the general war that followed two years later was called the War of the League of Augsburg.
The next year, 1687, saw yet greater successes of the Empire over the Turks and Hungarians. It was evident that France could expect no more from diversions in that quarter. At the same time the discontent of the English and the ambitions of the Prince of Orange, who hoped from his accession to the throne of England no ordinary personal aggrandizement, but the fulfilment of his strongest political wish and conviction, in curbing forever the power of Louis XIV., became more and more plain. But for his expedition into England, William needed ships, money, and men from the United Provinces; and they hung back, knowing that the result would be war with the French king, who proclaimed James his ally. Their action was at last decided by the course of Louis, who chose this moment to revoke concessions made at Nimeguen to Dutch trade. The serious injury thus done to Holland's material interests turned the wavering scale. "This violation of the conventions of Nimeguen," says a French historian,[67] "by giving a severe blow to Dutch commerce, reducing her European trade more than one fourth, removed the obstacle that religious passions still [177]encountered in material interests, and put all Holland at the disposition of William, none having reason longer to conciliate France." This was in November, 1687. In the summer of the following year the birth of an heir to the English throne brought things to an issue. English loyalty might have put up with the reign of the father, now advanced in years, but could not endure the prospect of a continued Roman Catholic royalty.
The following year, 1687, saw even greater victories for the Empire against the Turks and Hungarians. It was clear that France wouldn't gain anything more from distractions in that area. At the same time, the discontent among the English and the ambitions of the Prince of Orange became increasingly obvious. He wasn’t just looking to gain personal power from becoming king of England; he aimed to achieve his strong political goal of permanently limiting the power of Louis XIV. However, for his expedition to England, William needed ships, money, and troops from the United Provinces, which were hesitant, realizing this could lead to war with the French king, who recognized James as his ally. Their decision was ultimately swayed by Louis's actions, who chose this moment to revoke trade concessions made at Nimeguen. The significant damage to Holland's economic interests shifted the balance. "This violation of the conventions of Nimeguen," says a French historian,[67] "by delivering a serious blow to Dutch commerce, reducing her European trade by more than a quarter, removed the barrier that religious sentiments had faced against material interests, and placed all of Holland at William's disposal, as there was no longer any reason to appease France." This occurred in November 1687. In the summer of the following year, the birth of an heir to the English throne created a crisis. English loyalty might have tolerated the reign of the aging father, but they could not accept the idea of a continued Roman Catholic monarchy.
Matters had at last reached the crisis to which they had been tending for years. Louis and William of Orange, long-standing enemies, and at the moment the two chief figures in European politics, alike from their own strong personalities and the cause which either represented, stood on the brink of great actions, whose effects were to be felt through many generations. William, despotic in temper himself, stood on the shores of Holland looking hopefully toward free England, from which he was separated by the narrow belt of water that was the defence of the island kingdom, and might yet be an impassable barrier to his own high aims; for the French king at that moment could control the sea if he would. Louis, holding all the power of France in his single grasp, facing eastward as before, saw the continent gathering against him; while on his flank was England heartily hostile, longing to enter on the strife against him, but as yet without a leader. It still remained with him to decide whether he would leave the road open for the head to join the waiting body, and to bring Holland and England, the two sea powers, under one rule. If he attacked Holland by land, and sent his superior navy into the Channel, he might well keep William in his own country; the more so as the English navy, beloved and petted by the king, was likely to have more than the usual loyalty of seamen to their chief. Faithful to the bias of his life, perhaps unable to free himself from it, he turned toward the continent, and September 24, 1688, declared war against Germany and moved his armies toward the Rhine. William, overjoyed, saw removed the last obstacle to his ambition. Delayed for some weeks by contrary [178]winds, he finally set sail from Holland on the 30th of October. More than five hundred transports, with fifteen thousand troops, escorted by fifty men-of-war, formed the expedition; and it is typical of its mingled political and religious character, that the larger part of the army officers were French Protestants who had been driven from France since the last war, the commander-in-chief under William being the Huguenot Schomberg, late a marshal of France. The first start was foiled by a violent storm; but sailing again on the 10th of November, a fresh, fair breeze carried the ships through the Straits and the Channel, and William landed on the 15th at Torbay. Before the end of the year, James had fled from his kingdom. On the 21st of the following April, William and Mary were proclaimed sovereigns of Great Britain, and England and Holland were united for the war, which Louis had declared against the United Provinces as soon as he heard of William's invasion. During all the weeks that the expedition was preparing and delayed, the French ambassador at the Hague and the minister of the navy were praying the king to stop it with his great sea power,—a power so great that the French fleet in the first years of the war outnumbered those of England and Holland combined; but Louis would not. Blindness seems to have struck the kings of England and France alike; for James, amid all his apprehensions, steadily refused any assistance from the French fleet, trusting to the fidelity of the English seamen to his person, although his attempts to have Mass celebrated on board the ships had occasioned an uproar and mutiny which nearly ended in the crews throwing the priests overboard.
Things had finally reached a tipping point after years of buildup. Louis and William of Orange, long-time rivals and currently the two main players in European politics, stood ready to take significant actions that would have lasting impacts for generations. William, with a despotic nature, looked hopefully towards free England from the shores of Holland, separated by a narrow stretch of water that protected the island nation, but could also serve as an insurmountable barrier to his ambitions, especially since the French king could control the sea if he chose to. Louis, with all of France's power in his control, faced east and saw the continent uniting against him, while England was poised to join the fight against him, albeit without a leader yet. It was still up to him to decide whether to open the path for his enemies to unite and bring together the two sea powers, Holland and England, under one rule. If he attacked Holland from land and sent his superior navy into the Channel, he could likely keep William confined to his own territory, particularly since the English navy, favored and indulged by the king, was expected to show strong loyalty to their leader. True to the inclination of his life and perhaps unable to break free from it, he focused on the continent and, on September 24, 1688, declared war on Germany and marched his armies towards the Rhine. William, thrilled, saw the last obstacle to his ambitions removed. Delayed for a few weeks by unfavorable winds, he finally set sail from Holland on October 30. The expedition included more than five hundred transports with fifteen thousand troops, escorted by fifty warships. Notably, many of the army officers were French Protestants who had fled France since the last war, with the commander-in-chief under William being the Huguenot Schomberg, a former marshal of France. The initial departure was thwarted by a fierce storm, but on November 10, they sailed again, and a good wind helped them through the Straits and the Channel, with William landing at Torbay on the 15th. By the end of the year, James had fled from his kingdom. On April 21 of the following year, William and Mary were declared sovereigns of Great Britain, uniting England and Holland for the war that Louis had declared against the United Provinces as soon as he learned of William's invasion. Throughout the weeks that the expedition prepared and faced delays, the French ambassador in The Hague and the minister of the navy were urging the king to stop it with his formidable naval power—a power so significant that the French fleet in the early years of the war outnumbered those of England and Holland combined; yet Louis refused. It seems both the kings of England and France were struck by blindness; James, despite his fears, consistently turned down any support from the French fleet, relying on the loyalty of English seamen to him, even though his efforts to have Mass celebrated on board the ships caused an uproar and mutiny that nearly led to the crews throwing the priests overboard.
France thus entered the War of the League of Augsburg without a single ally. "What her policy had most feared, what she had long averted, was come to pass. England and Holland were not only allied, but united under the same chief; and England entered the coalition with all the eagerness of passions long restrained by the Stuart policy." As regards the sea war, the different battles have much less tactical value than those of De Ruyter. The chief points [179]of strategic interest are the failure of Louis, having a decided superiority at sea, properly to support James II. in Ireland, which remained faithful to him, and the gradual disappearance from the ocean of the great French fleets, which Louis XIV. could no longer maintain, owing to the expense of that continental policy which he had chosen for himself. A third point of rather minor interest is the peculiar character and large proportions taken on by the commerce-destroying and privateering warfare of the French, as their large fleets were disappearing. This, and the great effect produced by it, will appear at first to contradict what has been said as to the general inadequacy of such a warfare when not supported by fleets; but an examination of the conditions, which will be made later on, will show that the contradiction is rather apparent than real.
France entered the War of the League of Augsburg without a single ally. "What her policy had most feared, what she had long avoided, had come to pass. England and Holland were not only allied but united under the same leader; and England joined the coalition with all the eagerness of passions long held back by the Stuart policy." Regarding the naval war, the various battles hold much less tactical value than those of De Ruyter. The main points of strategic interest are Louis's failure, despite having a clear advantage at sea, to properly support James II in Ireland, who remained loyal to him, and the gradual disappearance of the great French fleets from the ocean, which Louis XIV could no longer maintain due to the costs of the continental policy he had chosen. A third, less significant point is the unique character and large scale of the commerce-destroying and privateering warfare conducted by the French as their large fleets dwindled. This, along with the significant impact it produced, may initially seem to contradict what has been said about the general ineffectiveness of such warfare when not backed by fleets; however, a closer examination of the circumstances, which will be discussed later, will reveal that the contradiction is more apparent than real.
Taught by the experience of the last conflict, the chief effort of the French king, in the general war he had brought upon himself, should have been directed against the sea powers,—against William of Orange and the Anglo-Dutch alliance. The weakest point in William's position was Ireland; though in England itself not only were there many partisans of the exiled king, but even those who had called in William fenced his kingship about with jealous restrictions. His power was not secure so long as Ireland was not subdued. James, having fled from England in January, 1689, landed in Ireland in the following March, accompanied by French troops and a French squadron, and was enthusiastically welcomed everywhere but in the Protestant North. He made Dublin his capital, and remained in the country until July of the next year. During these fifteen months the French were much superior at sea; they landed troops in Ireland on more than one occasion; and the English, attempting to prevent this, were defeated in the naval battle of Bantry Bay.[68] But although James was so well established, and it was of the utmost importance to sustain him; although it was equally important to keep William from [180]getting a foothold till James was further strengthened and Londonderry, then passing through its famous siege, reduced; and although the French were superior to the united English and Dutch on the seas in 1689 and 1690; nevertheless, the English admiral Rooke was able, unmolested, to throw succors and troops into Londonderry, and afterward landed Marshal Schomberg, with a small army, near Carrickfergus. Rooke stopped intercourse between Ireland and Scotland, where were many Stuart partisans, and then with his small squadron passed along the east coast of Ireland, attempted to burn the shipping in Dublin harbor, failing only through lack of wind, and finally came off Cork, then occupied by James, took possession of an island in the harbor, and returned in safety to the Downs in October. These services, which raised the siege of Londonderry and kept open the communications between England and Ireland, extended throughout the summer months; nor was any attempt made by the French to stop them. There can be little doubt that an effective co-operation of the French fleet in the summer of 1689 would have broken down all opposition to James in Ireland, by isolating that country from England, with corresponding injury to William's power.
Learning from the experience of the last conflict, the main focus of the French king, in the overall war he had initiated, should have been aimed at the maritime powers—specifically William of Orange and the Anglo-Dutch alliance. The weak point in William's position was Ireland; while in England there were many supporters of the exiled king, even those who had invited William were placing jealous limits on his kingship. His power was not secure as long as Ireland remained unconquered. James, having fled from England in January 1689, landed in Ireland the following March, accompanied by French troops and a French fleet, and was warmly received everywhere except in the Protestant North. He made Dublin his capital and stayed in the country until July of the next year. During these fifteen months, the French had a significant naval advantage; they landed troops in Ireland multiple times; and the English, trying to prevent this, were defeated in the naval battle of Bantry Bay.[68] However, even though James was well established and it was crucial to support him; even though it was equally essential to prevent William from [180]gaining a foothold until James was further strengthened and Londonderry, which was undergoing its famous siege, was subdued; and although the French were stronger than the combined English and Dutch navies in 1689 and 1690; still, the English admiral Rooke was able, without interference, to send reinforcements and troops into Londonderry, and later landed Marshal Schomberg with a small army near Carrickfergus. Rooke cut off communication between Ireland and Scotland, where many Stuart supporters were located, then, with his small fleet, sailed along the east coast of Ireland, attempted to destroy the shipping in Dublin harbor, failing only due to a lack of wind, and finally arrived off Cork, which was then occupied by James, took control of an island in the harbor, and safely returned to the Downs in October. These efforts, which relieved the siege of Londonderry and maintained open communication between England and Ireland, continued throughout the summer months; nor did the French attempt to disrupt them. There is little doubt that effective cooperation from the French fleet during the summer of 1689 could have eliminated all opposition to James in Ireland by isolating the country from England, significantly weakening William's power.
The following year the same strategic and political mistake was made. It is the nature of an enterprise such as James's, dependent upon a weaker people and foreign help, to lose strength if it does not progress; but the chances were still in his favor, provided France co-operated heartily, and above all, with her fleet. It is equally the nature of a merely military navy like that of France to be strongest at the beginning of hostilities; whereas that of the allied sea powers grew daily stronger, drawing upon the vast resources of their merchant shipping and their wealth. The disparity of force was still in favor of France in 1690, but it was not as great as the year before. The all-important question was where to direct it. There were two principal courses, involving two views of naval strategy. The one was to act against the allied fleet, whose defeat, if sufficiently severe, might involve the fall of [181]William's throne in England; the other was to make the fleet subsidiary to the Irish campaign. The French king decided upon the former, which was undoubtedly the proper course; but there was no reason for neglecting, as he did, the important duty of cutting off the communications between the two islands. As early as March he had sent a large fleet with six thousand troops and supplies of war, which were landed without any trouble in the southern ports of Ireland; but after performing that service, the ships employed returned to Brest, and there remained inactive during May and June while the grand fleet under the Comte de Tourville was assembling. During those two months the English were gathering an army on their west coast, and on the 21st of June, William embarked his forces at Chester on board two hundred and eighty-eight transports, escorted by only six men-of-war. On the 24th he landed in Carrickfergus, and the ships-of-war were dismissed to join the English grand fleet, which, however, they were not able to do; Tourville's ships having in the mean time got to sea and occupied the channel to the eastward. There is nothing more striking than the carelessness shown by both the contending parties, during the time that Ireland was in dispute, as to the communications of their opponents with the island; but this was especially strange in the French, as they had the larger forces, and must have received pretty accurate information of what was going on from disaffected persons in England. It appears that a squadron of twenty-five frigates, to be supported by ships-of-the-line, were told off for duty in St. George's Channel; but they never reached their station, and only ten of the frigates had got as far as Kinsale by the time James had lost all at the battle of the Boyne. The English communications were not even threatened for an hour.
The following year, the same strategic and political mistake was made. It's typical for an enterprise like James's, which relies on a weaker people and foreign support, to lose strength if it doesn't make progress; however, the odds were still in his favor, as long as France fully cooperated, especially with her fleet. A purely military navy like France’s tends to be strongest at the start of hostilities, while the allied sea powers' navy grew stronger daily, drawing on their vast merchant shipping resources and wealth. The difference in strength was still in favor of France in 1690, but it was not as significant as the year before. The crucial question was where to direct that strength. There were two main strategies, each involving a different naval approach. One was to target the allied fleet, whose defeat, if substantial enough, might lead to the downfall of [181]William's throne in England; the other was to make the fleet support the Irish campaign. The French king chose the first option, which was certainly the right choice, but there was no reason for him to ignore the important task of disrupting communications between the two islands. As early as March, he had sent a large fleet with six thousand troops and war supplies, which were landed without any issues in southern Ireland's ports. After that, the ships returned to Brest and remained inactive during May and June while the grand fleet under the Comte de Tourville was assembling. During those two months, the English were gathering an army on their west coast, and on June 21, William embarked his forces at Chester on two hundred eighty-eight transports, escorted by only six warships. On June 24, he landed in Carrickfergus, and the warships were sent back to join the English grand fleet, which, however, they couldn't do; Tourville's ships had already gone to sea and occupied the channel to the east. It's striking how careless both sides were during the Irish dispute regarding their opponent's communications with the island, but this was particularly odd for the French, as they had larger forces and must have received pretty accurate information about the situation from disaffected individuals in England. It seems that a squadron of twenty-five frigates, to be supported by ships-of-the-line, was designated for duty in St. George's Channel; however, they never reached their station, and only ten of the frigates made it as far as Kinsale by the time James lost everything at the battle of the Boyne. The English communications were never even threatened for an hour.
Tourville's fleet, complete in numbers, having seventy-eight ships, of which seventy were in the line-of-battle, with twenty-two fire-ships, got to sea June 22, the day after William embarked. On the 30th the French were off the Lizard, to the dismay of the English admiral, who was lying off the Isle [182]of Wight in such an unprepared attitude that he had not even lookout ships to the westward. He got under way, standing off-shore to the southeast, and was joined from time to time, during the next ten days, by other English and Dutch ships. The two fleets continued moving to the eastward, sighting each other from time to time.
Tourville's fleet was fully assembled, consisting of seventy-eight ships, with seventy of them ready for battle and twenty-two being fire-ships. They set sail on June 22, the day after William left. By June 30, the French arrived off the Lizard, much to the distress of the English admiral, who was positioned off the Isle [182] of Wight in such an unprepared state that he didn't even have lookout ships to the west. He set off, heading southeast, and was joined occasionally over the next ten days by other English and Dutch ships. Both fleets continued to move eastward, spotting each other now and then.
The political situation in England was critical. The Jacobites were growing more and more open in their demonstrations, Ireland had been in successful revolt for over a year, and William was now there, leaving only the queen in London. The urgency of the case was such that the council decided the French fleet must be fought, and orders to that effect were sent to the English admiral, Herbert. In obedience to his instructions he went out, and on the 10th of July, being to windward, with the wind at northeast, formed his line-of-battle, and then stood down to attack the French, who waited for him, with their foretopsails aback[69] on the starboard tack, heading to the northward and westward.
The political situation in England was dire. The Jacobites were becoming increasingly bold in their protests, Ireland had been successfully revolting for over a year, and William was now there, leaving only the queen in London. The urgency was such that the council decided the French fleet needed to be confronted, and orders were sent to the English admiral, Herbert. Following his instructions, he set out, and on July 10th, being upwind with the wind coming from the northeast, he formed his battle line and then advanced to attack the French, who were waiting for him with their foretopsails backed on the starboard tack, heading north and west.
The fight that followed is known as the battle of Beachy Head. The ships engaged were, French seventy, English and Dutch according to their own account fifty-six, according to the French sixty. In the allied line of battle the Dutch were in the van; the English, commanded in person by Herbert, in the centre; and the rear was made up partly of English and partly of Dutch ships. The stages of the battle were as follows:—
The fight that followed is known as the Battle of Beachy Head. The ships involved included seventy French vessels, fifty-six English and Dutch according to their own account, and sixty according to the French. In the allied battle line, the Dutch were at the front; the English, personally led by Herbert, were in the center; and the rear consisted of both English and Dutch ships. The stages of the battle were as follows:—
1. The allies, being to windward, bore down together in line abreast. As usual, this manœuvre was ill performed, and as also generally happens, the van came under fire before the centre and rear, and bore the brunt of the injury.
1. The allies, being upwind, advanced together in a line. As usual, this maneuver was poorly executed, and as often happens, the front line came under fire before the center and rear, taking the brunt of the damage.
2. Admiral Herbert, though commander-in-chief, failed to attack vigorously with the centre, keeping it at long range. The allied van and rear came to close action (Plate VI., A). Paul Hoste's[70] account of this manœuvre of the allies is that the admiral intended to fall mainly on the French rear. To that end he closed the centre to the rear and kept it to [183]windward at long cannon-shot (refused it), so as to prevent the French from tacking and doubling on the rear. If that were his purpose, his plan, though tolerably conceived in the main, was faulty in detail, for this manœuvre of the centre left a great gap between it and the van. He should rather have attacked, as Ruyter did at the Texel, as many of the rear ships as he thought he could deal with, and refused his van, assigning to it the part of checking the French van. It may be conceded that an admiral who, from inferior numbers, cannot spread as long and close a line as his enemy, should not let the latter overlap the extremities of his fleet; but he should attain his end not, as Herbert did, by leaving a great opening in the centre, but by increasing each interval between the ships refused. The allied fleet was thus exposed to be doubled on at two points, both van and centre; and both points were attacked.
2. Admiral Herbert, while being the commander-in-chief, didn’t launch a strong attack with the center, keeping it at a distance. The allied front and rear units engaged in close combat (Plate VI., A). Paul Hoste's[70] account of this maneuver by the allies suggests that the admiral planned to mainly target the French rear. To achieve this, he positioned the center toward the rear and kept it windward at a long cannon shot (refused it), to stop the French from tacking and outflanking the rear. If that was his intention, his strategy, while reasonably thought out overall, had weaknesses in execution, as the maneuver created a significant gap between the center and the front. He should have attacked, as Ruyter did at the Texel, as many of the rear ships as he believed he could handle, while the front supported by intercepting the French front. It could be argued that an admiral who, due to being outnumbered, can't form a long and tight line like his enemy shouldn’t let the enemy overlap the ends of his fleet; however, he should achieve this not by leaving a huge gap in the center, as Herbert did, but by widening the space between each ship that he kept behind. The allied fleet was thus vulnerable to being outflanked at two locations, both the front and center; and both places were attacked.
3. The commander of the French van, seeing the Dutch close to his line and more disabled than himself, pressed six of his leading ships ahead, where they went about, and so put the Dutch between two fires (Plate VI. B).
3. The commander of the French front, noticing the Dutch near his line and more damaged than his own ships, pushed six of his leading vessels forward. They then turned around, effectively putting the Dutch in a crossfire (Plate VI. B).
At the same time Tourville, finding himself without adversaries in the centre, having beaten off the leading division of the enemy's centre, pushed forward his own leading ships, which Herbert's dispositions had left without opponents; and these fresh ships strengthened the attack upon the Dutch in the van (B).
At the same time, Tourville, realizing he had no enemies in the center after defeating the leading division of the enemy's center, moved his own leading ships forward, which Herbert's strategies had left without opponents; these fresh ships intensified the assault on the Dutch at the front (B).
This brought about a mêlée at the head of the lines, in which the Dutch, being inferior, suffered heavily. Luckily for the allies the wind fell calm; and while Tourville himself and other French ships got out their boats to tow into action again, the allies were shrewd enough to drop anchor with all sail set, and before Tourville took in the situation the ebb-tide, setting southwest, had carried his fleet out of action. He finally anchored a league from his enemy.
This caused a chaotic fight at the front of the lines, where the Dutch, being outnumbered, suffered greatly. Fortunately for the allies, the wind died down; and while Tourville and other French ships prepared their boats to get back into action, the allies wisely dropped anchor with all sails up. Before Tourville could assess the situation, the outgoing tide, flowing southwest, had pushed his fleet out of the fray. He eventually anchored a league away from his enemy.
At nine P.M., when the tide changed, the allies weighed and stood to the eastward. So badly had many of them been [184]mauled, that, by English accounts, it was decided rather to destroy the disabled ships than to risk a general engagement to preserve them.
At 9 PM, when the tide turned, the allies set sail to the east. Many of their ships had been so badly damaged that, according to English reports, it was decided to destroy the disabled vessels rather than risk a full engagement to save them.
Tourville pursued; but instead of ordering a general chase, he kept the line-of-battle, reducing the speed of the fleet to that of the slower ships. The occasion was precisely one of those in which a mêlée is permissible, indeed, obligatory. An enemy beaten and in flight should be pursued with ardor, and with only so much regard to order as will prevent the chasing vessels from losing mutual support,—a condition which by no means implies such relative bearings and distances as are required in the beginning or middle of a well-contested action. The failure to order such general pursuit indicates the side on which Tourville's military character lacked completeness; and the failure showed itself, as is apt to be the case, at the supreme moment of his career. He never had such another opportunity as in this, the first great general action in which he commanded in chief, and which Hoste, who was on board the flag-ship, calls the most complete naval victory ever gained. It was so indeed at that time,—the most complete, but not the most decisive, as it perhaps might have been. The French, according to Hoste, lost not even a boat, much less a ship, which, if true, makes yet more culpable the sluggishness of the pursuit; while the allies fled, casting sixteen of their ships ashore and burning them in sight of the enemy, who pursued as far as the Downs. The English indeed give the allied loss as only eight ships,—an estimate probably full as much out one way as the French the other. Herbert took his fleet to the Thames, and baffled the enemy's further pursuit by removing the buoys.[71]
Tourville continued the pursuit; however, rather than ordering a full chase, he maintained the line of battle, slowing the fleet to match the pace of the slower ships. This was exactly the kind of situation in which a scramble is allowed, even necessary. An enemy that has been defeated and is fleeing should be chased vigorously, while still keeping enough order to ensure the pursuers can support each other—this doesn't require the precise formations needed at the start or middle of a well-fought battle. The decision not to initiate a general pursuit reveals a shortcoming in Tourville's military character; this failure was particularly evident at the critical moment of his career. He never got another chance like this, during the first major battle he commanded, which Hoste, on board the flagship, describes as the most complete naval victory ever achieved. And it was indeed, at that time, the most comprehensive victory, though not the most decisive, as it could have been. According to Hoste, the French didn't lose even a single boat, let alone a ship, which, if true, makes their sluggish pursuit even more blameworthy; meanwhile, the allies fled, stranding sixteen of their ships and setting them on fire in view of the enemy, who chased them all the way to the Downs. The English, however, report that the allied losses were only eight ships—a figure likely just as inaccurate one way as the French are the other. Herbert took his fleet to the Thames and thwarted the enemy's further pursuit by removing the buoys.[71]
Tourville's is the only great historical name among the seamen of this war, if we except the renowned privateersmen at whose head was Jean Bart. Among the English, extraordinary merit cannot be claimed for any one of the gallant and enterprising men who commanded squadrons. Tourville, [185]who by this time had served afloat for nearly thirty years, was at once a seaman and a military man. With superb courage, of which he had given dazzling examples in his youth, he had seen service wherever the French fleets had fought,—in the Anglo-Dutch war, in the Mediterranean, and against the Barbary pirates. Reaching the rank of admiral, he commanded in person all the largest fleets sent out during the earlier years of this war, and he brought to the command a scientific knowledge of tactics, based upon both theory and experience, joined to that practical acquaintance with the seaman's business which is necessary in order to apply tactical principles upon the ocean to the best advantage. But with all these high qualities he seems to have failed, where so many warriors fail, in the ability to assume a great responsibility.[72] The caution in his pursuit of the allies after Beachy Head, though so different in appearance, came from the same trait which impelled him two years later to lead his fleet into almost certain destruction at La Hougue, because he had the king's order in his pocket. He was brave enough to do anything, but not strong enough to bear the heaviest burdens. Tourville was in fact the forerunner of the careful and skilful tacticians of the coming era, but with the savor still of the impetuous hard-fighting which characterized the sea commanders of the seventeenth century. He doubtless felt, after Beachy Head, that he had done very well and could be satisfied; but he could not have acted as he did had he felt, to use Nelson's words, that "if we had taken ten ships out of the enemy's eleven, and let the eleventh escape, being able to take her, I could never call such a good day."
Tourville is the only notable historical figure among the sailors of this war, except for the famous privateers led by Jean Bart. Among the English, no extraordinary merit can be claimed for any of the brave and enterprising men who commanded fleets. Tourville, [185]who had been serving at sea for nearly thirty years by this time, was both a sailor and a military leader. With remarkable courage, which he had demonstrated in his youth, he had participated in battles wherever the French fleets had fought—during the Anglo-Dutch war, in the Mediterranean, and against the Barbary pirates. Rising to the rank of admiral, he personally commanded all the largest fleets sent out during the early years of this war. He brought with him a scientific understanding of tactics, drawn from both theory and experience, along with practical knowledge of the sailor's craft, which is essential for effectively applying tactical principles at sea. However, despite these impressive qualities, he seemed to struggle, like many warriors, with taking on great responsibility. The caution he showed in pursuing the allies after Beachy Head, although it appeared different, stemmed from the same trait that led him two years later to lead his fleet into almost certain ruin at La Hougue because he had the king's orders in hand. He was brave enough to attempt anything, but not strong enough to carry the heaviest burdens. Tourville was essentially a precursor to the careful and skilled tacticians of the coming era, still infused with the bold, hard-fighting spirit that defined the sea commanders of the seventeenth century. After Beachy Head, he likely felt satisfied with his performance, but he wouldn't have acted the way he did if he had felt, in Nelson's words, that "if we had taken ten ships out of the enemy's eleven, and let the eleventh escape, being able to take her, I could never call such a good day."
The day after the sea fight off Beachy Head, with its great but still partial results, the cause of James II. was lost ashore in Ireland. The army which William had been allowed to transport there unmolested was superior in number and quality to that of James, as William himself was superior as a leader [186]to the ex-king. The counsel of Louis XIV. was that James should avoid decisive action, retiring if necessary to the Shannon, in the midst of a country wholly devoted to him. It was, however, a good deal to ask, this abandonment of the capital after more than a year's occupancy, with all the consequent moral effect; it would have been much more to the purpose to stop William's landing. James undertook to cover Dublin, taking up the line of the river Boyne, and there on the 11th of July the two armies met, with the result that James was wholly defeated. The king himself fled to Kinsale, where he found ten of those frigates that had been meant to control St. George's Channel. He embarked, and again took refuge in France, begging Louis to improve the victory at Beachy Head by landing him with another French army in England itself. Louis angrily refused, and directed that the troops still remaining in Ireland should be at once withdrawn.
The day after the naval battle off Beachy Head, which had significant but still incomplete results, James II's cause was lost on land in Ireland. The army that William was allowed to bring over without interference was larger and better quality than James's, just as William was a better leader than the former king. Louis XIV advised James to avoid any decisive confrontations and, if necessary, retreat to the Shannon, as that area was completely loyal to him. However, it was quite a lot to ask him to abandon the capital after more than a year of control, given the moral implications; it would have been more effective to stop William's landing. James decided to protect Dublin by taking a position along the river Boyne, and on July 11th, the two armies met, resulting in James's complete defeat. The king fled to Kinsale, where he found ten frigates that were supposed to control St. George's Channel. He boarded one and took refuge in France again, pleading with Louis to capitalize on the victory at Beachy Head by landing him with another French army in England. Louis angrily refused and ordered the remaining troops in Ireland to be withdrawn immediately.
The chances of a rising in favor of James, at least upon the shores of the Channel, if they existed at all, were greatly exaggerated by his own imagination. After the safe retreat of the allied fleet to the Thames, Tourville, in accordance with his instructions, made several demonstrations in the south of England; but they were wholly fruitless in drawing out any show of attachment to the Stuart cause.
The chances of a comeback for James, at least along the Channel, if they existed at all, were largely inflated by his own imagination. After the allied fleet safely retreated to the Thames, Tourville, following his orders, made several displays in southern England; however, they completely failed to reveal any support for the Stuart cause.
In Ireland it was different. The Irish army with its French contingent fell back, after the battle of the Boyne, to the Shannon, and there again made a stand; while Louis, receding from his first angry impulse, continued to send reinforcements and supplies. But the increasing urgency of the continental war kept him from affording enough support, and the war in Ireland came to a close a little over a year later, by the defeat at Aghrim and capitulation of Limerick. The battle of the Boyne, which from its peculiar religious coloring has obtained a somewhat factitious celebrity, may be taken as the date at which the English crown was firmly fixed on William's head. Yet it would be more accurate to say that the success of William, and with it the success of [187]Europe against Louis XIV. in the War of the League of Augsburg, was due to the mistakes and failure of the French naval campaign in 1690; though in that campaign was won the most conspicuous single success the French have ever gained at sea over the English. As regards the more striking military operations, it is curious to remark that Tourville sailed the day after William left Chester, and won Beachy Head the day before the battle of the Boyne; but the real failure lay in permitting William to transport that solid body of men without hindrance. It might have been favorable to French policy to let him get into Ireland, but not with such a force at his back. The result of the Irish campaign was to settle William safely on the English throne and establish the Anglo-Dutch alliance; and the union of the two sea peoples under one crown was the pledge, through their commercial and maritime ability, and the wealth they drew from the sea, of the successful prosecution of the war by their allies on the continent.
In Ireland, things were different. The Irish army, with its French troops, retreated after the Battle of the Boyne to the Shannon River, where they made another stand. Meanwhile, Louis cooled off from his initial anger and continued to send reinforcements and supplies. However, the growing urgency of the war in Europe limited his ability to provide adequate support, and the conflict in Ireland came to an end a little over a year later with the defeat at Aghrim and the surrender of Limerick. The Battle of the Boyne, which has gained some exaggerated fame due to its unique religious significance, can be seen as the moment when the English crown was securely placed on William's head. Yet, it would be more accurate to say that William's success, along with Europe's victory over Louis XIV in the War of the League of Augsburg, was largely due to the mistakes and failures of the French naval campaign in 1690; although that campaign did achieve the most notable single victory the French have ever had at sea against the English. Interestingly, Tourville set sail the day after William left Chester and won the Battle of Beachy Head the day before the Battle of the Boyne. However, the real failure was allowing William to transport such a large force without interference. While it might have served French interests to let him land in Ireland, it shouldn't have been with such a strong army behind him. The outcome of the Irish campaign secured William's position on the English throne and established the Anglo-Dutch alliance. The union of these two maritime nations under one crown promised that their commercial and naval prowess, along with the wealth they generated from the sea, would effectively support their allies in the ongoing war on the continent.
The year 1691 was distinguished by only one great maritime event. This was ever afterward known in France as Tourville's "deep-sea" or "off-shore" cruise; and the memory of it as a brilliant strategic and tactical display remains to this day in the French navy. That staying power, which has already been spoken of as distinctive of nations whose sea power is not a mere military institution, but based upon the character and pursuits of the people, had now come into play with the allies. Notwithstanding the defeat and loss of Beachy Head, the united fleets took the sea in 1691 with one hundred ships-of-the-line under the command of Admiral Russell. Tourville could only gather seventy-two, the same number as the year before. "With these he left Brest June 25. As the enemy had not yet appeared upon the coasts of the Channel, he took up his cruising ground at the entrance, sending lookout ships in all directions. Informed that the allies had stationed themselves near the Scilly Islands to cover the passage of a convoy expected from the Levant, Tourville did not hesitate to steer for the English [188]coasts, where the approaching arrival of another merchant fleet from Jamaica was equally expected. Deceiving the English cruisers by false courses, he reached the latter fleet, took from it several ships, and dispersed it before Russell could come up to fight him. When at last Tourville was in presence of the allied fleet, he manœuvred so skilfully, always keeping the weather-gage, that the enemy, drawn far out into the ocean, lost fifty days without finding an opportunity to engage. During this time French privateers, scattered throughout the Channel, harassed the enemy's commerce and protected convoys sent into Ireland. Worn out by fruitless efforts, Russell steered for the Irish coast. Tourville, after having protected the return of the French convoys, anchored again in Brest Roads."
The year 1691 was marked by only one significant maritime event. This event became known in France as Tourville's "deep-sea" or "off-shore" cruise, and the memory of it as a brilliant strategic and tactical exhibition endures to this day in the French navy. The resilience, which has been described as characteristic of nations whose naval power isn't just a military institution but is rooted in the character and activities of the people, came into play with the allies. Despite the defeat and loss at Beachy Head, the united fleets set out to sea in 1691 with one hundred ships-of-the-line under Admiral Russell’s command. Tourville could only gather seventy-two ships, the same number as the year before. On June 25, he left Brest. Since the enemy had not yet appeared off the Channel coasts, he chose his cruising grounds at the entrance, sending lookout ships in all directions. Once informed that the allies had positioned themselves near the Scilly Islands to guard the passage of a convoy expected from the Levant, Tourville confidently headed for the English [188] coast, where another merchant fleet from Jamaica was also anticipated. By tricking the English cruisers with false movements, he reached the latter fleet, captured several ships from it, and broke it up before Russell could arrive to engage him. When Tourville finally faced the allied fleet, he maneuvered so skillfully, always keeping the weather advantage, that the enemy, lured far out into the ocean, wasted fifty days without finding an opportunity to fight. During this period, French privateers, spread throughout the Channel, attacked the enemy's trade and safeguarded convoys heading to Ireland. Exhausted by pointless attempts, Russell headed towards the Irish coast. After ensuring the safe return of French convoys, Tourville anchored once again in Brest Roads.
The actual captures made by Tourville's own fleet were insignificant, but its service to the commerce-destroying warfare of the French, by occupying the allies, is obvious; nevertheless, the loss of English commerce was not as great this year as the next. The chief losses of the allies seem to have been in the Dutch North Sea trade.
The actual captures made by Tourville's own fleet were minor, but its role in supporting the French's commerce-destroying warfare by keeping the allies occupied is clear; however, the loss of English trade wasn't as significant this year as it would be the following year. The main losses for the allies appear to have been in the Dutch North Sea trade.
The two wars, continental and maritime, that were being waged, though simultaneous, were as yet independent of each other. It is unnecessary in connection with our subject to mention the operations of the former. In 1692 there occurred the great disaster to the French fleet which is known as the battle of La Hougue. In itself, considered tactically, it possesses little importance, and the actual results have been much exaggerated; but popular report has made it one of the famous sea battles of the world, and therefore it cannot be wholly passed by.
The two wars, on land and at sea, that were happening at the same time were still separate from each other. We don't need to discuss the land operations for our topic. In 1692, there was the significant defeat of the French fleet known as the battle of La Hougue. Tactically, it’s not very important, and the real outcomes have been overstated; however, popular opinion has turned it into one of the famous naval battles in history, so we can't completely overlook it.
Misled by reports from England, and still more by the representations of James, who fondly nursed his belief that the attachment of many English naval officers to his person was greater than their love of country or faithfulness to their trust, Louis XIV. determined to attempt an invasion of the south coast of England, led by James in person. As a first step thereto, Tourville, at the head of between fifty and sixty [189]ships-of-the-line, thirteen of which were to come from Toulon, was to engage the English fleet; from which so many desertions were expected as would, with the consequent demoralization, yield the French an easy and total victory. The first hitch was in the failure of the Toulon fleet, delayed by contrary winds, to join; and Tourville went to sea with only forty-four ships, but with a peremptory order from the king to fight when he fell in with the enemy, were they few or many, and come what might.
Misled by reports from England, and even more by James’s claims, who naively believed that many English naval officers cared for him more than their country or their duties, Louis XIV decided to try to invade the south coast of England, with James leading the charge. As a first step, Tourville, in command of about fifty to sixty [189]ships-of-the-line, thirteen of which were supposed to come from Toulon, was to confront the English fleet, expecting enough desertions to demoralize them and ensure an easy and total victory for the French. The first setback was when the Toulon fleet, delayed by bad weather, failed to join him; Tourville sailed with only forty-four ships but had a strict order from the king to engage the enemy, no matter how many there were, regardless of the consequences.
On the 29th of May, Tourville saw the allies to the northward and eastward; they numbered ninety-nine sail-of-the-line. The wind being southwest, he had the choice of engaging, but first summoned all the flag-officers on board his own ship, and put the question to them whether he ought to fight. They all said not, and he then handed them the order of the king.[73] No one dared dispute that; though, had they known it, light vessels with contrary orders were even then searching for the fleet. The other officers then returned to their ships, and the whole fleet kept away together for the allies, who waited for them, on the starboard tack, heading south-southeast, the Dutch occupying the van, the English the centre and rear. When they were within easy range, the French hauled their wind on the same tack, keeping the weather-gage. Tourville, being so inferior in numbers, could not wholly avoid the enemy's line extending to the rear of [190]his own, which was also necessarily weak from its extreme length; but he avoided Herbert's error at Beachy Head, keeping his van refused with long intervals between the ships, to check the enemy's van, and engaging closely with his centre and rear (Plate VIa. A, A, A). It is not necessary to follow the phases of this unequal fight; the extraordinary result was that when the firing ceased at night, in consequence of a thick fog and calm, not a single French ship had struck her colors nor been sunk. No higher proof of military spirit and efficiency could be given by any navy, and Tourville's seamanship and tactical ability contributed largely to the result, which it must also be confessed was not creditable to the allies. The two fleets anchored at nightfall (B, B, B), a body of English ships (B’) remaining to the southward and westward of the French, Later on, these cut their cables and allowed themselves to drift through the French line in order to rejoin their main body; in doing which they were roughly handled.
On May 29th, Tourville noticed the allies to the north and east; they had ninety-nine battleships. With a southwest wind, he could have chosen to engage, but first called all the flag officers to his ship and asked them if they should fight. They all said no, so he then gave them the king's orders.[73] No one dared to argue against it; although, if they had known, lighter vessels with conflicting orders were already searching for the fleet. The other officers then went back to their ships, and the whole fleet sailed together towards the allies, who were waiting for them on the starboard tack, heading south-southeast, with the Dutch at the front and the English in the center and rear. When they were close enough, the French adjusted their sails on the same tack, maintaining the advantageous position. Since Tourville was outnumbered, he couldn’t completely avoid the enemy's line extending behind his own, which was also weak due to its length; however, he avoided Herbert's mistake at Beachy Head by keeping his front line staggered with long gaps between the ships to counter the enemy's front, while engaging closely with his center and rear (Plate VIa. A, A, A). There's no need to go into the details of this uneven battle; the remarkable outcome was that when the firing stopped at night because of heavy fog and calm conditions, not a single French ship had struck its colors or been sunk. This demonstrated an incredible level of military spirit and effectiveness from any navy, and Tourville's seamanship and tactical skill played a significant role in this outcome, which must also be noted was not a good reflection on the allies. The two fleets anchored at nightfall (B, B, B), with a group of English ships (B') remaining to the south and west of the French. Later, these ships cut their cables and drifted through the French line to rejoin their main fleet, during which they faced considerable difficulty.
Having amply vindicated the honor of his fleet, and shown the uselessness of further fighting, Tourville now thought of retreat, which was begun at midnight with a light northeast wind and continued all the next day. The allies pursued, the movements of the French being much embarrassed by the crippled condition of the flag-ship "Royal Sun," the finest ship in the French navy, which the admiral could not make up his mind to destroy. The direction of the main retreat was toward the Channel Islands, thirty-five ships being with the admiral; of them twenty passed with the tidal current through the dangerous passage known as the Race of Alderney, between the island of that name and the mainland, and got safe to St. Malo. Before the remaining fifteen could follow, the tide changed; and the anchors which had been dropped dragging, these ships were carried to the eastward and to leeward of the enemy. Three sought refuge in Cherbourg, which had then neither breakwater nor port, the remaining twelve at Cape La Hougue; and they were all burned either by their own crews or by the allies. The [191]French thus lost fifteen of the finest ships in their navy, the least of which carried sixty guns; but this was little more than the loss of the allies at Beachy Head. The impression made upon the public mind, accustomed to the glories and successes of Louis XIV., was out of all proportion to the results, and blotted out the memory of the splendid self-devotion of Tourville and his followers. La Hougue was also the last general action fought by the French fleet, which did rapidly dwindle away in the following years, so that this disaster seemed to be its death-blow. As a matter of fact, however, Tourville went to sea the next year with seventy ships, and the losses were at the time repaired. The decay of the French navy was not due to any one defeat, but to the exhaustion of France and the great cost of the continental war; and this war was mainly sustained by the two sea peoples whose union was secured by the success of William in the Irish campaign. Without asserting that the result would have been different had the naval operations of France been otherwise directed in 1690, it may safely be said that their misdirection was the immediate cause of things turning out as they did, and the first cause of the decay of the French navy.
Having fully defended the honor of his fleet and demonstrated that further fighting was pointless, Tourville decided to retreat, which began at midnight with a light northeast wind and continued throughout the day. The allies pursued, and the French movements were greatly hindered by the damaged condition of the flagship "Royal Sun," the best ship in the French navy, which the admiral couldn't bring himself to scuttle. The main retreat direction was toward the Channel Islands, with thirty-five ships accompanying the admiral; of those, twenty navigated with the tidal current through the dangerous passage known as the Race of Alderney, between that island and the mainland, and safely reached St. Malo. Before the remaining fifteen could follow, the tide turned, and with their dropped anchors dragging, these ships were pulled eastward and downwind of the enemy. Three sought refuge in Cherbourg, which at that time had neither breakwater nor port, while the other twelve went to Cape La Hougue; they were all burned either by their own crews or by the allies. The [191]French thus lost fifteen of the best ships in their navy, each carrying at least sixty guns; however, this was only slightly more than the loss suffered by the allies at Beachy Head. The impact on public perception, used to the glories and victories of Louis XIV, was out of proportion to the actual results and overshadowed the remarkable dedication of Tourville and his crew. La Hougue also marked the last major battle fought by the French fleet, which rapidly declined in the following years, and this disaster seemed to be its fatal blow. In reality, though, Tourville went to sea the next year with seventy ships, and the losses were eventually replenished. The decline of the French navy wasn't due to any single defeat, but rather the exhaustion of France and the significant costs of the continental war; this war was largely supported by the two maritime nations united through William's success in the Irish campaign. While it can't be claimed that the outcome would have been different had France's naval operations been better directed in 1690, it can certainly be said that their misdirection was the immediate reason for the way events unfolded and the initial cause of the French navy's decline.
The five remaining years of the War of the League of Augsburg, in which all Europe was in arms against France, are marked by no great sea battles, nor any single maritime event of the first importance. To appreciate the effect of the sea power of the allies, it is necessary to sum up and condense an account of the quiet, steady pressure which it brought to bear and maintained in all quarters against France. It is thus indeed that sea power usually acts, and just because so quiet in its working, it is the more likely to be unnoticed and must be somewhat carefully pointed out.
The last five years of the War of the League of Augsburg, when all of Europe was united against France, didn’t see any major naval battles or significant maritime events. To understand the impact of the allies' naval power, we need to summarize the steady, persistent pressure it exerted on France from all directions. This is how naval power typically operates, and because it works so quietly, it often goes unnoticed and needs to be highlighted with care.
The head of the opposition to Louis XIV. was William III., and his tastes being military rather than naval combined with the direction of Louis' policy to make the active war continental rather than maritime; while the gradual withdrawal of the great French fleets, by leaving the allied [192]navies without enemies on the sea, worked in the same way. Furthermore, the efficiency of the English navy, which was double in numbers that of the Dutch, was at this time at a low pitch; the demoralizing effects of the reign of Charles II. could not be wholly overcome during the three years of his brother's rule, and there was a yet more serious cause of trouble growing out of the political state of England. It has been said that James believed the naval officers and seamen to be attached to his person; and, whether justly or unjustly, this thought was also in the minds of the present rulers, causing doubts of the loyalty and trustworthiness of many officers, and tending to bring confusion into the naval administration. We are told that "the complaints made by the merchants were extremely well supported, and showed the folly of preferring unqualified men to that board which directed the naval power of England; and yet the mischief could not be amended, because the more experienced people who had been long in the service were thought disaffected, and it appeared the remedy might have proved worse than the disease."[74] Suspicion reigned in the cabinet and the city, factions and irresolution among the officers; and a man who was unfortunate or incapable in action knew that the yet more serious charge of treason might follow his misadventure.
The leader of the opposition to Louis XIV was William III, and his interests were more military than naval. This aligned with Louis’ strategy of focusing the war on land rather than at sea. Meanwhile, the gradual retreat of the large French fleets left the allied navies without foes to contend with, which had a similar effect. Moreover, during this time, the English navy, which was twice the size of the Dutch navy, was not performing well. The negative impacts of Charles II's reign had not been completely resolved during the three years of his brother's rule. An even bigger concern came from the political situation in England. People claimed that James thought the naval officers and sailors were loyal to him; whether this belief was accurate or not, it led the current leaders to doubt the loyalty and reliability of many officers, causing chaos in naval management. Reports indicated that "the complaints made by the merchants were very well-founded and highlighted the mistake of putting unqualified people in charge of naval governance; however, the problem couldn't be fixed because the more experienced individuals who had been around for a long time were seen as untrustworthy, and it seemed that the solution might end up being worse than the original problem." Suspicion was widespread in the government and the city, creating factions and indecision among the officers; anyone who faced misfortune or was ineffective in their duties knew they might also be accused of treason following their failures.
After La Hougue, the direct military action of the allied navies was exerted in three principal ways, the first being in attacks upon the French ports, especially those in the Channel and near Brest. These had rarely in view more than local injury and the destruction of shipping, particularly in the ports whence the French privateers issued; and although on some occasions the number of troops embarked was large, William proposed to himself little more than the diversion which such threats caused, by forcing Louis to take troops from the field for coast defence. It may be said generally of all these enterprises against the French coast, in this and later wars, that they effected little, and even as a diversion [193]did not weaken the French armies to any great extent. If the French ports had been less well defended, or French water-ways open into the heart of the country, like our own Chesapeake and Delaware bays and the Southern sounds, the result might have been different.
After La Hougue, the allied navies focused their military efforts in three main ways, the first being attacks on French ports, especially those in the Channel and near Brest. These attacks generally aimed at causing local damage and destroying shipping, particularly in the ports from which French privateers launched. Even though there were times when many troops were deployed, William mainly intended to create a diversion by forcing Louis to pull troops from the battlefield for coastal defense. Overall, these operations against the French coast, in this and subsequent wars, produced minimal results, and even as a distraction, [193] they didn't significantly weaken the French armies. If the French ports had been less well defended, or if their waterways led more directly into the center of the country, like our own Chesapeake and Delaware bays and the Southern sounds, the outcome might have been different.
In the second place, the allied navies were of great direct military value, though they fought no battles, when Louis XIV. decided in 1694 to make his war against Spain offensive. Spain, though so weak in herself, was yet troublesome from her position in the rear of France; and Louis finally concluded to force her to peace by carrying the war into Catalonia, on the northeast coast. The movement of his armies was seconded by his fleet under Tourville; and the reduction of that difficult province went on rapidly until the approach of the allied navies in largely superior force caused Tourville to retire to Toulon. This saved Barcelona; and from that time until the two sea nations had determined to make peace, they kept their fleets on the Spanish coast and arrested the French advance. When, in 1697, William had become disposed to peace and Spain refused it, Louis again invaded, the allied fleet did not appear, and Barcelona fell. At the same time a French naval expedition was successfully directed against Cartagena in South America, and under the two blows, both of which depended upon the control of the sea, Spain yielded.
In the second place, the allied navies were very important for military purposes, even though they didn't engage in battles, when Louis XIV decided in 1694 to take an offensive approach in his war against Spain. Despite being weak, Spain was a problem due to its location behind France; thus, Louis concluded that pressuring Spain to agree to peace by invading Catalonia on the northeast coast was necessary. His army's movements were supported by his fleet under Tourville, and the campaign to conquer that challenging province proceeded quickly until the allied navies showed up in greater numbers, forcing Tourville to retreat to Toulon. This move protected Barcelona, and from then until the two maritime nations agreed to make peace, they kept their fleets stationed along the Spanish coast, halting the French advance. When, in 1697, William was ready for peace but Spain refused, Louis invaded again, the allied fleet didn’t show up, and Barcelona fell. At the same time, a French naval mission was successfully launched against Cartagena in South America, and because of these two setbacks, which both relied on naval control, Spain surrendered.
The third military function of the allied navies was the protection of their sea commerce; and herein, if history may be trusted, they greatly failed. At no time has war against commerce been conducted on a larger scale and with greater results than during this period; and its operations were widest and most devastating at the very time that the great French fleets were disappearing, in the years immediately after La Hougue, apparently contradicting the assertion that such a warfare must be based on powerful fleets or neighboring seaports. A somewhat full discussion is due, inasmuch as the distress to commerce wrought by the privateers was a large factor in bringing the sea nations to wish [194]for peace; just as the subsidies, which their commerce enabled them to pay the continental armies, besides keeping up their own, were the chief means by which the war was prolonged and France brought to terms. The attack and defence of commerce is still a living question.
The third military role of the allied navies was to protect their sea trade, and if history is any guide, they really fell short. There has never been a time when trade was targeted on such a large scale and with such significant effects as during this period. The operations launched against commerce were at their widest and most destructive just as the great French fleets were fading away, particularly in the years right after La Hougue, which seems to contradict the idea that such warfare relies on strong fleets or nearby ports. A more in-depth discussion is needed since the damage caused to commerce by privateers played a major role in pushing the sea nations to seek [194]peace. Similarly, the subsidies made possible by their trade, which funded both the continental armies and their own, were the main reasons why the war dragged on and France was eventually brought to terms. The issues surrounding the attack and defense of commerce are still relevant today.
In the first place it is to be observed that the decay of the French fleet was gradual, and that the moral effect of its appearance in the Channel, its victory at Beachy Head, and gallant conduct at La Hougue remained for some time impressed on the minds of the allies. This impression caused their ships to be kept together in fleets, instead of scattering in pursuit of the enemy's cruisers, and so brought to the latter a support almost equal to an active warfare on the seas. Again, the efficiency of the English navy, as has been said, was low, and its administration perhaps worse; while treason in England gave the French the advantage of better information. Thus in the year following La Hougue, the French, having received accurate information of a great convoy sailing for Smyrna, sent out Tourville in May, getting him to sea before the allies were ready to blockade him in Brest, as they had intended. This delay was due to bad administration, as was also the further misfortune that the English government did not learn of Tourville's departure until after its own fleet had sailed with the trade. Tourville surprised the convoy near the Straits, destroyed or captured one hundred out of four hundred ships, and scattered the rest. This is not a case of simple cruising warfare, for Tourville's fleet was of seventy-one ships; but it shows the incompetency of the English administration. In truth, it was immediately after La Hougue that the depredations of cruisers became most ruinous; and the reason was twofold: first, the allied fleet was kept together at Spithead for two months and more, gathering troops for a landing on the continent, thus leaving the cruisers unmolested; and in the second place, the French, not being able to send their fleet out again that summer, permitted the seamen to take service in private ships, thus largely increasing the numbers of the latter. The two causes working together gave [195]an impunity and extension to commerce-destroying which caused a tremendous outcry in England. "It must be confessed," says the English naval chronicler, "that our commerce suffered far less the year before, when the French were masters at sea, than in this, when their grand fleet was blocked up in port." But the reason was that the French having little commerce and a comparatively large number of seamen, mainly employed in the fleet, were able, when this lay by, to release them to cruisers. As the pressure of the war became greater, and Louis continued to reduce the number of his ships in commission, another increase was given to the commerce-destroyers. "The ships and officers of the royal navy were loaned, under certain conditions, to private firms, or to companies who wished to undertake privateering enterprises, in which even the cabinet ministers did not disdain to take shares;" indeed, they were urged to do so to please the king. The conditions generally provided that a certain proportion of the profits should go to the king, in return for the use of the ships. Such employment would be demoralizing to any military service, but not necessarily all at once; and the conditions imparted for the time a tone and energy to privateering that it cannot always have. In truth, the public treasury, not being able to maintain the navy, associated with itself private capital, risking only material otherwise useless, and looking for returns to robbing the enemy. The commerce-destroying of this war, also, was no mere business of single cruisers; squadrons of three or four up to half a dozen ships acted together under one man, and it is only just to say that under seamen like Jean Bart, Forbin, and Duguay-Trouin, they were even more ready to fight than to pillage. The largest of these private expeditions, and the only one that went far from the French shores, was directed in 1697 against Cartagena, on the Spanish Main. It numbered seven ships-of-the-line and six frigates, besides smaller vessels, and carried twenty-eight hundred troops. The chief object was to lay a contribution on the city of Cartagena; but its effect on the policy of Spain was marked, [196]and led to peace. Such a temper and concert of action went far to supply the place of supporting fleets, but could not wholly do so; and although the allies continued to keep their large fleets together, still, as the war went on and efficiency of administration improved, commerce-destroying was brought within bounds. At the same time, as an evidence of how much the unsupported cruisers suffered, even under these favorable conditions, it may be mentioned that the English report fifty-nine ships-of-war captured against eighteen admitted by the French during the war,—a difference which a French naval historian attributes, with much probability, to the English failing to distinguish between ships-of-war properly so called, and those loaned to private firms. Captures of actual privateers do not appear in the list quoted from. "The commerce-destroying of this war, therefore, was marked by the particular characteristics of cruisers acting together in squadron, not far from their base, while the enemy thought best to keep his fleet concentrated elsewhere; notwithstanding which, and the bad administration of the English navy, the cruisers were more and more controlled as the great French fleets disappeared." The results of the war of 1689-1697 do not therefore vitiate the general conclusion that "a cruising, commerce-destroying warfare, to be destructive, must be seconded by a squadron warfare, and by divisions of ships-of-the-line; which, forcing the enemy to unite his forces, permit the cruisers to make fortunate attempts upon his trade. Without such backing the result will be simply the capture of the cruisers." Toward the end of this war the real tendency was becoming manifest, and was still more plainly seen in the next, when the French navy had sunk to a yet lower state of weakness.
First of all, it's important to note that the decline of the French fleet happened gradually, and the impact of its presence in the Channel, its victory at Beachy Head, and its brave actions at La Hougue lingered in the minds of the allies for some time. This impression caused their ships to stay together in fleets instead of scattering to chase enemy cruisers, which gave the French cruisers support that was almost equivalent to active naval warfare. Furthermore, the effectiveness of the English navy was low, and its administration might have been even worse; meanwhile, betrayal within England provided the French with better intelligence. Thus, in the year following La Hougue, the French, having received accurate information about a large convoy sailing to Smyrna, dispatched Tourville in May, getting him out to sea before the allies were prepared to block him in Brest as they had planned. This delay was due to poor administration, as was the unfortunate fact that the English government didn't find out about Tourville's departure until after their own fleet had set sail with the trade. Tourville surprised the convoy near the Straits, destroying or capturing one hundred out of four hundred ships and scattering the rest. This was not simply a case of cruising warfare, as Tourville's fleet consisted of seventy-one ships; it demonstrated the incompetence of English administration. In reality, it was right after La Hougue that the attacks from cruisers became most devastating; this was due to two reasons: first, the allied fleet remained together at Spithead for over two months, gathering troops for a landing on the continent, thus leaving the cruisers unchecked; and second, since the French couldn't send their fleet out again that summer, they allowed their sailors to serve on private ships, significantly increasing the number of those ships. Both factors combined granted [195]impunity and expanded the destruction of commerce, which caused a huge outcry in England. "It must be admitted," said the English naval chronicler, "that our commerce suffered much less the previous year when the French ruled the seas, than this year, when their grand fleet was stuck in port." The reason for this was that the French had little commerce and a comparatively large number of sailors, mainly employed in the fleet, who, when the fleet was inactive, could be released to serve on cruisers. As the demands of the war intensified and Louis continued to decrease the number of his active ships, the commerce-destroyers expanded even more. "The ships and officers of the royal navy were loaned, under certain conditions, to private companies or groups wishing to undertake privateering ventures, in which even cabinet ministers were encouraged to invest," indeed, they were pushed to do so to please the king. The conditions usually stipulated that a portion of the profits would go to the king in exchange for the use of the ships. Such arrangements could demoralize any military service, but not necessarily immediately; and the conditions temporarily instilled a sense of purpose and energy to privateering that it couldn't always sustain. In fact, since the public treasury couldn't support the navy, it partnered with private capital, risking only material that was otherwise useless, and sought returns through enemy raiding. The commerce-destroying in this war also wasn't just a matter of single cruisers; squadrons made up of three, four, or even up to six ships operated together under one commander, and it's only fair to say that under seamen like Jean Bart, Forbin, and Duguay-Trouin, they were often more eager to fight than to loot. The largest of these private missions, and the only one that ventured far from French shores, was aimed at Cartagena in 1697 on the Spanish Main. It comprised seven ships-of-the-line and six frigates, along with smaller vessels, and carried two thousand eight hundred troops. The main objective was to demand contributions from the city of Cartagena, but its impact on Spanish policy was significant, [196]leading to peace. Such spirit and coordinated action went a long way in making up for the absence of supporting fleets, but couldn't fully replace them; and although the allies continued to keep their large fleets intact, as the war progressed and administration improved, the destruction of commerce was brought under control. At the same time, as evidence of how much the unsupported cruisers struggled, even under these favorable conditions, it’s worth mentioning that the English reported capturing fifty-nine warships compared to the eighteen acknowledged by the French during the war—a discrepancy that a French naval historian attributes, with a good chance, to the English not distinguishing between true warships and those lent to private firms. Captures of actual privateers don't seem to be included in the mentioned list. "The commerce-destroying of this war, therefore, was characterized by cruisers acting together in squadrons, not far from their bases, while the enemy preferred to keep his fleet concentrated elsewhere; nonetheless, despite this and the poor administration of the English navy, the cruisers were controlled more and more as the large French fleets diminished." The outcomes of the war from 1689 to 1697 do not, therefore, undermine the general conclusion that "a cruising, commerce-destroying war needs to be backed by squadron warfare and divisions of ships-of-the-line; which, by forcing the enemy to consolidate his forces, allow the cruisers to make successful attacks on his trade. Without such support, the result will simply be the capture of the cruisers." By the end of this war, the real trend was becoming clear, and it was even more evident in the next one, when the French navy had diminished to an even lower state of weakness.
Notwithstanding their losses, the sea nations made good their cause. The war, which began with the French taking the offensive, ended by reducing them everywhere to the defensive, and forced Louis to do violence at once to his strongest prejudices and his most reasonable political wishes, by recognizing as king of England him whom he looked upon [197]as a usurper as well as his own inveterate enemy. On its surface, and taken as a whole, this war will appear almost wholly a land struggle, extending from the Spanish Netherlands down the line of the Rhine, to Savoy in Italy and Catalonia in Spain. The sea fights in the Channel, the Irish struggle receding in the distance, look like mere episodes; while the underlying action of trade and commerce is wholly disregarded, or noticed only as their outcries tell of their sufferings. Yet trade and shipping not only bore the burden of suffering, but in the main paid the armies that were fighting the French; and this turning of the stream of wealth from both sea nations into the coffers of their allies was perhaps determined, certainly hastened, by the misdirection of that naval supremacy with which France began the war. It was then possible, as it will usually be possible, for a really fine military navy of superior force to strike an overwhelming blow at a less ready rival; but the opportunity was allowed to slip, and the essentially stronger, better founded sea power of the allies had time to assert itself.
Despite their losses, the sea nations upheld their cause. The war, which started with the French on the offensive, ended up putting them on the defensive everywhere. This forced Louis to compromise his strongest beliefs and most reasonable political goals by recognizing as king of England someone he viewed as not only a usurper but also a longtime enemy. On its surface, and when seen as a whole, this war seems almost entirely focused on land battles, stretching from the Spanish Netherlands down the Rhine to Savoy in Italy and Catalonia in Spain. The naval conflicts in the Channel and the distant struggle in Ireland appear to be just side notes, while the critical actions of trade and commerce are mostly overlooked or only mentioned through cries of suffering. However, trade and shipping not only endured much suffering but mainly financed the armies fighting the French. The diversion of wealth from both sea nations into their allies' pockets was likely influenced, if not accelerated, by the mishandling of the naval dominance with which France started the war. It was then possible, as it often is, for a strong military navy to deal a decisive blow to a less prepared rival; but that opportunity was missed, allowing the fundamentally stronger and better-established naval power of the allies to assert itself.
The peace signed at Ryswick in 1697 was most disadvantageous to France; she lost all that had been gained since the Peace of Nimeguen, nineteen years before, with the single important exception of Strasburg. All that Louis XIV. had gained by trick or force during the years of peace was given up. Immense restitutions were made to Germany and to Spain. In so far as the latter were made in the Netherlands, they were to the immediate advantage of the United Provinces, and indeed of all Europe as well as of Spain. To the two sea nations the terms of the treaty gave commercial benefits, which tended to the increase of their own sea power and to the consequent injury of that of France.
The peace agreement signed at Ryswick in 1697 was highly unfavorable for France; she lost everything she had gained since the Peace of Nimeguen, nineteen years earlier, except for the important exception of Strasbourg. Everything Louis XIV. had acquired through deceit or force during the years of peace was surrendered. Vast restitutions were made to Germany and Spain. When these restitutions were made in the Netherlands, they directly benefited the United Provinces and, indeed, all of Europe as well as Spain. The two maritime nations gained commercial advantages from the treaty's terms, which boosted their own naval strength and, as a result, weakened that of France.
France had made a gigantic struggle; to stand alone as she did then, and as she has since done more than once, against all Europe is a great feat. Yet it may be said that as the United Provinces taught the lesson that a nation, however active and enterprising, cannot rest upon external resources alone, if intrinsically weak in numbers and territory, so [198]France in its measure shows that a nation cannot subsist indefinitely off itself, however powerful in numbers and strong in internal resources.
France had fought a huge battle; standing alone as she did then, and has done several times since, against all of Europe is an impressive achievement. However, it can be said that just as the United Provinces demonstrated that a nation, no matter how active and ambitious, cannot rely solely on external resources if it is inherently weak in population and land, so [198] France shows that a nation cannot sustain itself indefinitely, no matter how strong in numbers and rich in internal resources it may be.
It is said that a friend once found Colbert looking dreamily from his windows, and on questioning him as to the subject of his meditations, received this reply: "In contemplating the fertile fields before my eyes, I recall those which I have seen elsewhere; what a rich country is France!" This conviction supported him amid the many discouragements of his official life, when struggling to meet the financial difficulties arising from the extravagance and wars of the king; and it has been justified by the whole course of the nation's history since his days. France is rich in natural resources as well as in the industry and thrift of her people. But neither individual nations nor men can thrive when severed from natural intercourse with their kind; whatever the native vigor of constitution, it requires healthful surroundings, and freedom to draw to itself from near and from far all that is conducive to its growth and strength and general welfare. Not only must the internal organism work satisfactorily, the processes of decay and renewal, of movement and circulation, go on easily, but, from sources external to themselves, both mind and body must receive healthful and varied nourishment. With all her natural gifts France wasted away because of the want of that lively intercourse between the different parts of her own body and constant exchange with other people, which is known as commerce, internal or external. To say that war was the cause of these defects is to state at least a partial truth; but it does not exhaust the matter. War, with its many acknowledged sufferings, is above all harmful when it cuts a nation off from others and throws it back upon itself. There may indeed be periods when such rude shocks have a bracing effect, but they are exceptional, and of short duration, and they do not invalidate the general statement. Such isolation was the lot of France during the later wars of Louis XIV., and it well-nigh destroyed her; whereas to save her from the possibility of such stagnation was the great aim of Colbert's life.
It’s said that a friend once found Colbert staring dreamily out of his windows, and when he asked what he was thinking about, Colbert replied, “As I look at the fertile fields in front of me, I remember those I’ve seen in other places; France is such a rich country!” This belief kept him going through the many challenges of his career as he tried to deal with the financial issues caused by the king’s extravagance and wars. History has shown that his conviction was right. France is wealthy in natural resources and the hard work and resourcefulness of its people. However, no nation or individual can truly thrive when cut off from healthy connections with others; no matter how strong one’s foundation is, it needs a healthy environment and the freedom to gather resources from near and far that promote growth, strength, and overall well-being. Not only must the internal systems function well, with smooth processes of decay and renewal, movement and flow, but both mind and body also need diverse and nourishing inputs from the outside. Despite all its natural advantages, France struggled because it lacked the vibrant connections among its different regions and the ongoing exchanges with others known as commerce, both internal and external. Saying that war caused these issues is partially true but doesn’t capture the full story. War, with its recognized hardships, is especially damaging when it isolates a nation and forces it to rely solely on itself. While there may be times when such major disruptions can have a refreshing impact, these are rare and short-lived, and they don’t contradict the overall idea. France experienced this isolation during the later wars of Louis XIV, nearly leading to its downfall; protecting her from future stagnation was the primary goal of Colbert's life.
[199]War alone could not entail it, if only war could be postponed until the processes of circulation within and without the kingdom were established and in vigorous operation. They did not exist when he took office; they had to be both created and firmly rooted in order to withstand the blast of war. Time was not given to accomplish this great work, nor did Louis XIV. support the schemes of his minister by turning the budding energies of his docile and devoted subjects into paths favorable to it. So when the great strain came upon the powers of the nation, instead of drawing strength from every quarter and through many channels, and laying the whole outside world under contribution by the energy of its merchants and seamen, as England has done in like straits, it was thrown back upon itself, cut off from the world by the navies of England and Holland, and the girdle of enemies which surrounded it upon the continent. The only escape from this process of gradual starvation was by an effectual control of the sea; the creation of a strong sea power which should insure free play for the wealth of the land and the industry of the people. For this, too, France had great natural advantages in her three seaboards, on the Channel, the Atlantic, and the Mediterranean; and politically she had had the fair opportunity of joining to her own maritime power that of the Dutch in friendly alliance, hostile or at least wary toward England. In the pride of his strength, conscious of absolute control in his kingdom, Louis cast away this strong reinforcement to his power, and proceeded to rouse Europe against him by repeated aggressions. In the period which we have just considered, France justified his confidence by a magnificent, and upon the whole successful, maintenance of his attitude against all Europe; she did not advance, but neither did she greatly recede. But this display of power was exhausting; it ate away the life of the nation, because it drew wholly upon itself and not upon the outside world, with which it could have been kept in contact by the sea. In the war that next followed, the same energy is seen, but not the same vitality; and France was everywhere beaten back and brought to the verge of ruin. [200]The lesson of both is the same; nations, like men, however strong, decay when cut off from the external activities and resources which at once draw out and support their internal powers. A nation, as we have already shown, cannot live indefinitely off itself, and the easiest way by which it can communicate with other peoples and renew its own strength is the sea.
[199]War alone couldn’t cause it, but if only war could be delayed until the systems of trade inside and outside the kingdom were established and functioning well. They didn’t exist when he started his term; they had to be created and solidified in order to withstand the impact of war. There wasn’t enough time to complete this significant task, nor did Louis XIV support his minister’s plans by directing the energy of his loyal subjects into beneficial avenues. So when the great pressure hit the nation’s resources, instead of drawing strength from every corner and channel, and leveraging the entire world through the energy of its merchants and sailors—like England has done in similar situations—it was isolated, cut off from the world by the navies of England and Holland, along with a ring of enemies surrounding it on the continent. The only way out of this slow decline was through effective control of the sea; by building a strong naval power that could ensure the wealth of the land and the productivity of the people could thrive. France had significant natural advantages in her three coastlines along the Channel, the Atlantic, and the Mediterranean; politically, she had the chance to align her naval strength with that of the Dutch in a friendly alliance, which was at least wary towards England. In his pride and confident control over his kingdom, Louis discarded this strong support to his power and sparked Europe’s hostility against him through repeated aggressions. During the period we just discussed, France validated his confidence with a remarkable, mostly successful defense against all of Europe; she didn’t advance, but she also didn’t significantly retreat. However, this show of power was depleting; it drained the nation’s resources because it relied solely on itself and not on the external world, which could have been engaged through the sea. In the subsequent war, the same energy was visible, but not the same vitality; France faced defeats and was brought to the brink of destruction. [200]The lesson from both scenarios is clear: nations, like individuals, no matter how strong, weaken when cut off from the external activities and resources that both draw out and support their internal strengths. A nation, as we've already shown, cannot survive indefinitely on its own, and the easiest way to interact with other peoples and replenish its own strength is through the sea.
FOOTNOTES:
[66] Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
[67] Martin: History of France.
[69] That is, nearly motionless.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ In other words, almost still.
[70] Hoste: Naval Tactics.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hoste: Navy Strategies.
[73] The author has followed in the text the traditional and generally accepted account of Tourville's orders and the motives of his action. A French writer, M. de Crisenoy, in a very interesting paper upon the secret history preceding and accompanying the event, traverses many of these traditional statements. According to him, Louis XIV. was not under any illusion as to the loyalty of the English officers to their flag; and the instructions given to Tourville, while peremptory under certain conditions, did not compel him to fight in the situation of the French fleet on the day of the battle. The tone of the instructions, however, implied dissatisfaction with the admiral's action in previous cruises, probably in the pursuit after Beachy Head, and a consequent doubt of his vigor in the campaign then beginning. Mortification therefore impelled him to the desperate attack on the allied fleet; and, according to M. de Crisenoy, the council of war in the admiral's cabin, and the dramatic production of the king's orders, had no existence in fact.
[73] The author has followed the traditional and generally accepted account of Tourville's orders and the reasons behind his actions. A French writer, M. de Crisenoy, in an interesting paper on the secret history leading up to and surrounding the event, challenges many of these traditional statements. He claims that Louis XIV was fully aware of the loyalty of the English officers to their flag; and the orders given to Tourville, while strict under certain conditions, did not force him to engage in battle given the situation of the French fleet on the day of the fight. However, the tone of the orders suggested dissatisfaction with the admiral's previous actions, likely during the pursuit after Beachy Head, which cast doubt on his effectiveness in the campaign that was just starting. As a result, frustration pushed him to make a desperate attack on the allied fleet; and according to M. de Crisenoy, the war council in the admiral's cabin, along with the dramatic presentation of the king's orders, never actually took place.
[74] Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
CHAPTER V.ToC
War of the Spanish Succession, 1702-1713.—Sea Battle of Malaga.
War of the Spanish Succession, 1702-1713.—Naval Battle of Malaga.
During the last thirty years of the seventeenth century, amid all the strifes of arms and diplomacy, there had been clearly foreseen the coming of an event which would raise new and great issues. This was the failure of the direct royal line in that branch of the House of Austria which was then on the Spanish throne; and the issues to be determined when the present king, infirm both in body and mind, should die, were whether the new monarch was to be taken from the House of Bourbon or from the Austrian family in Germany; and whether, in either event, the sovereign thus raised to the throne should succeed to the entire inheritance, the Empire of Spain, or some partition of that vast inheritance be made in the interests of the balance of European power. But this balance of power was no longer understood in the narrow sense of continental possessions; the effect of the new arrangements upon commerce, shipping, and the control both of the ocean and the Mediterranean, was closely looked to. The influence of the two sea powers and the nature of their interests were becoming more evident.
During the last thirty years of the seventeenth century, amidst all the conflicts of war and diplomacy, people could clearly see that a significant event was coming that would bring up new and important issues. This was the end of the direct royal line in the branch of the House of Austria that was on the Spanish throne at the time; and the questions to be resolved when the current king, who was weak both physically and mentally, died were whether the new monarch would come from the House of Bourbon or from the Austrian family in Germany; and whether, in either case, the newly crowned ruler would inherit the entire estate, the Empire of Spain, or if some division of that vast estate would be necessary to maintain the balance of power in Europe. However, this balance of power was no longer viewed just in terms of land holdings; people were closely watching how the new arrangements would impact trade, shipping, and control of both the ocean and the Mediterranean. The influence of the two naval powers and the nature of their interests were becoming more apparent.
It is necessary to recall the various countries that were ruled by Spain at that time in order to understand the strategic questions, as they may fairly be called, now to be settled. These were, in Europe, the Netherlands (now Belgium); Naples and the south of Italy; Milan and other provinces in the north; and, in the Mediterranean, Sicily, Sardinia, and the Balearic Isles. Corsica at that time belonged to Genoa. In the western hemisphere, besides Cuba and Porto Rico, Spain then [202]held all that part of the continent now divided among the Spanish American States, a region whose vast commercial possibilities were coming to be understood; and in the Asian archipelago there were large possessions that entered less into the present dispute. The excessive weakness of this empire, owing to the decay of the central kingdom, had hitherto caused other nations, occupied as they were with more immediate interests, to regard with indifference its enormous extent. This indifference could not last when there was a prospect of a stronger administration, backed possibly by alliances with one of the great powers of Europe.
It’s important to remember the various countries that were ruled by Spain at that time to understand the strategic issues that need to be addressed now. In Europe, these included the Netherlands (now Belgium), Naples and southern Italy, Milan, and other northern provinces; in the Mediterranean, Sicily, Sardinia, and the Balearic Islands. At that time, Corsica was part of Genoa. In the western hemisphere, besides Cuba and Puerto Rico, Spain then [202]controlled all the territory that is now split among the Spanish American States, a region whose vast commercial potential was becoming clearer; in the Asian archipelago, they had large possessions that were less relevant to the current dispute. The overwhelming weakness of this empire, due to the decline of the central kingdom, had previously led other nations, focused on their own immediate interests, to view its vastness with indifference. This indifference couldn’t continue when there was a chance of a stronger administration, potentially supported by alliances with one of the major powers in Europe.
It would be foreign to our subject to enter into the details of diplomatic arrangement, which, by shifting about peoples and territories from one ruler to another, sought to reach a political balance peacefully. The cardinal points of each nation's policy may be shortly stated. The Spanish cabinet and people objected to any solution which dismembered the empire. The English and the Dutch objected to any extension of France in the Spanish Netherlands, and to the monopoly by the French of the trade with Spanish America, both which they feared as the results of placing a Bourbon on the Spanish throne. Louis XIV. wanted Naples and Sicily for one of his sons, in case of any partition; thus giving France a strong Mediterranean position, but one which would be at the mercy of the sea powers,—a fact which induced William III. to acquiesce in this demand. The Emperor of Austria particularly objected to these Mediterranean positions going away from his family, and refused to come into any of the partition treaties. Before any arrangement was perfected, the actual king of Spain died, but before his death was induced by his ministers to sign a will, bequeathing all his States to the grandson of Louis XIV., then Duke of Anjou, known afterward as Philip V. of Spain. By this step it was hoped to preserve the whole, by enlisting in its defence the nearest and one of the most powerful States in Europe,—nearest, if are excepted the powers ruling the sea, which are always near any country whose ports are open to their ships.
It would be irrelevant to our topic to dive into the specifics of diplomatic arrangements, which aimed to achieve a peaceful political balance by shifting people and territories from one ruler to another. The main positions of each nation can be summarized as follows. The Spanish government and its people were against any solution that would break up the empire. The English and the Dutch opposed any French expansion in the Spanish Netherlands and the French monopoly on trade with Spanish America, both of which they feared would come from placing a Bourbon on the Spanish throne. Louis XIV wanted Naples and Sicily for one of his sons if there was any partition, giving France a strong position in the Mediterranean, but one vulnerable to naval powers—a reality that led William III to agree to this demand. The Emperor of Austria particularly objected to these Mediterranean territories being taken away from his family and refused to participate in any of the partition treaties. Before any agreement was finalized, the actual king of Spain passed away, but before his death, he was persuaded by his ministers to sign a will that left all his states to Louis XIV's grandson, then Duke of Anjou, who would later be known as Philip V of Spain. This move was hoped to preserve the unity of the empire by securing the defense of the nearest and one of the most powerful states in Europe—nearest, excluding the sea powers, which are always close to any country with open ports.
[203]Louis XIV. accepted the bequest, and in so doing felt bound in honor to resist all attempts at partition. The union of the two kingdoms under one family promised important advantages to France, henceforth delivered from that old enemy in the rear, which had balked so many of her efforts to extend her frontiers eastward. As a matter of fact, from that time, with rare breaks, there existed between the two kingdoms an alliance, the result of family ties, which only the weakness of Spain kept from being dangerous to the rest of Europe. The other countries at once realized the situation, and nothing could have saved war but some backward step on the part of the French king. The statesmen of England and Holland, the two powers on whose wealth the threatened war must depend, proposed that the Italian States should be given to the son of the Austrian emperor, Belgium be occupied by themselves, and that the new king of Spain should grant no commercial privileges in the Indies to France above other nations. To the credit of their wisdom it must be said that this compromise was the one which after ten years of war was found, on the whole, best; and in it is seen the growing sense of the value of extension by sea. Louis, however, would not yield; on the contrary, he occupied, by connivance of the Spanish governors, towns in the Netherlands which had been held by Dutch troops under treaties with Spain. Soon after, in February, 1701, the English Parliament met, and denounced any treaty which promised France the dominion of the Mediterranean. Holland began to arm, and the Emperor of Austria pushed his troops into northern Italy, where a campaign followed, greatly to the disadvantage of Louis.
[203]Louis XIV accepted the inheritance and felt honor-bound to resist any attempts to split it up. The union of the two kingdoms under one family promised significant benefits to France, freeing it from that old enemy behind it, which had thwarted so many of its efforts to push its borders eastward. In reality, from that point on, apart from a few exceptions, there was an alliance between the two kingdoms, stemming from family ties, which only Spain's weakness kept from becoming a threat to the rest of Europe. Other countries quickly understood the situation, and nothing could have prevented war except for some retreat on the part of the French king. The statesmen of England and Holland, the two powers whose wealth would fuel the impending war, suggested that the Italian States be handed to the son of the Austrian emperor, Belgium be occupied by them, and that the new king of Spain should not grant France any greater commercial privileges in the Indies than other nations. It must be acknowledged that their wisdom showed in this compromise, which was ultimately found to be the best after ten years of war; it reflected the growing understanding of the importance of expansion by sea. However, Louis refused to back down; instead, he, with the help of the Spanish governors, took over towns in the Netherlands that had been held by Dutch forces under treaties with Spain. Shortly after, in February 1701, the English Parliament convened and condemned any treaty that would grant France control over the Mediterranean. Holland began to prepare for war, and the Emperor of Austria moved his troops into northern Italy, where a campaign soon followed that significantly disadvantaged Louis.
In September of the same year, 1701, the two sea powers and the Emperor of Austria signed a secret treaty, which laid down the chief lines of the coming war, with the exception of that waged in the Spanish peninsula itself. By it the allies undertook to conquer the Spanish Netherlands in order to place a barrier between France and the United Provinces; to conquer Milan as a security for the emperor's other provinces; and to conquer Naples and Sicily for the [204]same security, and also for the security of the navigation and commerce of the subjects of his Britannic Majesty and of the United Provinces. The sea powers should have the right to conquer, for the utility of the said navigation and commerce, the countries and towns of the Spanish Indies; and all that they should be able to take there should be for them and remain theirs. The war begun, none of the allies could treat without the others, nor without having taken just measures—first, to prevent the kingdoms of France and Spain from ever being united under the same king; second, to prevent the French from ever making themselves masters of the Spanish Indies, or from sending ships thither to engage, directly or indirectly, in commerce; third, to secure to the subjects of his Britannic Majesty and of the United Provinces the commercial privileges which they enjoyed in all the Spanish States under the late king.
In September 1701, the two naval powers and the Emperor of Austria signed a secret treaty that outlined the main points of the upcoming war, except for the conflict happening in Spain itself. According to this treaty, the allies committed to taking over the Spanish Netherlands to create a barrier between France and the United Provinces; to conquer Milan as a safeguard for the emperor's other territories; and to seize Naples and Sicily for the same protection, as well as to ensure safe navigation and trade for the subjects of his Britannic Majesty and the United Provinces. The naval powers would have the right to conquer the lands and cities of the Spanish Indies for the benefit of their navigation and commerce, and everything they managed to take there would belong to them. Once the war started, none of the allies could negotiate without the others, nor could they act without first taking appropriate measures: first, to prevent the kingdoms of France and Spain from ever being united under a single king; second, to stop the French from gaining control of the Spanish Indies or sending ships there to trade, either directly or indirectly; and third, to ensure that the subjects of his Britannic Majesty and the United Provinces retained the commercial privileges they enjoyed in all the Spanish territories under the late king.
It will be noticed that in these conditions there is no suggestion of any intention to resist the accession of the Bourbon king, who was called to the throne by the Spanish government and at first acknowledged by England and Holland; but, on the other hand, the Emperor of Austria does not withdraw the Austrian claim, which centred in his own person. The voice of the sea powers was paramount in the coalition, as the terms of the treaty safeguarding their commercial interests show, though, as they were about to use German armies for the land war, German claims also had to be considered. As a French historian points out:—
It’s clear that under these circumstances, there’s no hint of any desire to oppose the rise of the Bourbon king, who was invited to the throne by the Spanish government and initially recognized by England and the Netherlands. However, the Emperor of Austria doesn’t back down from the Austrian claim, which revolves around his own position. The influence of the sea powers was crucial in the coalition, as the treaty terms protecting their trade interests indicate, though since they were about to deploy German forces for the ground conflict, German claims also needed to be addressed. As a French historian notes:—
"This was really a new treaty of partition.... William III., who had conducted all, had taken care not to exhaust England and Holland, in order to restore the Spanish monarchy, intact, to the emperor; his final condition was to reduce the new king, Philip V., to Spain proper, and to secure to England and Holland at once the commercial use of all the regions that had been under the Spanish monarchy, together with important military and maritime positions against France."[75]
"This was really a new partition treaty.... William III, who had managed everything, made sure not to wear out England and Holland in the effort to restore the Spanish monarchy to the emperor; his final demand was to confine the new king, Philip V, to just Spain and to ensure that England and Holland could immediately use all the territories that used to be under the Spanish monarchy for trade, along with significant military and naval positions against France."[75]
But though war was imminent, the countries about to engage hesitated. Holland would not move without England, [205]and despite the strong feeling of the latter country against France, the manufacturers and merchants still remembered the terrible sufferings of the last war. Just then, as the scales were wavering, James II. died. Louis, yielding to a sentiment of sympathy and urged by his nearest intimates, formally recognized the son of James as king of England; and the English people, enraged at what they looked on as a threat and an insult, threw aside all merely prudential considerations. The House of Lords declared that "there could be no security till the usurper of the Spanish monarchy was brought to reason;" and the House of Commons voted fifty thousand soldiers and thirty-five thousand seamen, besides subsidies for German and Danish auxiliaries. William III. died soon after, in March, 1702; but Queen Anne took up his policy, which had become that of the English and Dutch peoples.
But even though war was on the horizon, the countries about to fight hesitated. Holland wouldn’t act without England, [205] and despite the strong sentiments in England against France, the manufacturers and merchants still recalled the terrible hardships of the last war. Just then, as the situation was still uncertain, James II died. Louis, feeling sympathy and encouraged by his closest advisors, officially recognized James’s son as king of England; and the English people, outraged at what they saw as a threat and an insult, disregarded all cautious considerations. The House of Lords declared that "there could be no security until the usurper of the Spanish monarchy was brought to reason," and the House of Commons voted for fifty thousand soldiers and thirty-five thousand sailors, along with subsidies for German and Danish allies. William III died soon after, in March 1702; but Queen Anne continued his policy, which had become the stance of the English and Dutch people.
Louis XIV. tried to break part of the on-coming storm by forming a league of neutrals among the other German States; but the emperor adroitly made use of the German feeling, and won to his side the Elector of Brandenburg by acknowledging him as king of Prussia, thus creating a North-German Protestant royal house, around which the other Protestant States naturally gathered, and which was in the future to prove a formidable rival to Austria. The immediate result was that France and Spain, whose cause was thenceforth known as that of the two crowns, went into the war without any ally save Bavaria. War was declared in May by Holland against the kings of France and Spain; by England against France and Spain, Anne refusing to recognize Philip V. even in declaring war, because he had recognized James III. as king of England; while the emperor was still more outspoken, declaring against the King of France and the Duke of Anjou. Thus began the great War of the Spanish Succession.
Louis XIV tried to reduce the impending conflict by forming a neutral coalition among the other German states. However, the emperor skillfully capitalized on German sentiments and gained the support of the Elector of Brandenburg by recognizing him as king of Prussia. This move established a North-German Protestant royal house that naturally attracted other Protestant states and would later emerge as a significant rival to Austria. As a result, France and Spain, whose cause was now known as that of the two crowns, entered the war with only Bavaria as an ally. In May, Holland declared war on the kings of France and Spain; England followed suit against France and Spain, with Anne refusing to recognize Philip V in her declaration because he had acknowledged James III as king of England. The emperor was even more direct, declaring against the King of France and the Duke of Anjou. This marked the beginning of the great War of the Spanish Succession.
It is far from easy, in dealing with a war of such proportions, lasting for more than ten years, to disentangle from the general narrative that part which particularly touches our subject, without at the same time losing sight of the relation of the one part to the whole. Such a loss, however, [206]is fatal to the end in view, which is not a mere chronicle of naval events, nor even a tactical or strategic discussion of certain naval problems divorced from their surroundings of cause and effect in general history, but an appreciation of the effect of sea power upon the general result of the war and upon the prosperity of nations. It will conduce to clearness, however, to point out again that the aim of William III. was not to dispute the claim of Philip V. to the throne,—a matter of comparative indifference to the sea powers,—but to seize, to the benefit of their commerce and colonial empire, such portions of the Spanish American possessions as he could, and at the same time to impose such conditions upon the new monarchy as would at least prevent any loss, to English and Dutch commerce, of the privileges they had had under the Austrian line. Such a policy would not direct the main effort of the sea nations upon the Spanish peninsula, but upon America; and the allied fleets might not have entered the Straits. Sicily and Naples were to go, not to England, but to Austria. Subsequent causes led to an entire change in this general plan. A new candidate, a son of the Emperor of Germany, was set up in 1703 by the coalition under the name of Carlos III., and the peninsula became the scene of a doubtful and bloody war, keeping the Anglo-Dutch fleets hovering round the coasts; with the result, as regards the sea powers, that nothing of decisive importance was done in Spanish America, but that England issued from the strife with Gibraltar and Port Mahon in her hands, to be thenceforth a Mediterranean power. At the same time that Carlos III. was proclaimed, a treaty was negotiated with Portugal, known as the Methuen Treaty, which gave England the practical monopoly of Portuguese trade, and sent the gold of Brazil by way of Lisbon to London,—an advantage so great that it aided materially in keeping up the war on the continent as well as in maintaining the navy. At the same time the efficiency of the latter so increased that the losses by French cruisers, though still heavy, were at no time unendurable.
It’s far from easy to separate the part that directly relates to our topic from the broader narrative of a war that lasted over ten years without losing sight of how one connects to the other. Losing this connection, however, [206] is detrimental to our goal, which isn’t just a record of naval events or even a tactical or strategic discussion of certain naval issues without considering their context in overall history. Instead, it aims to evaluate the impact of sea power on the war’s outcome and on the prosperity of nations. It’s important to emphasize again that William III's goal wasn’t to challenge Philip V's claim to the throne—a matter of little concern to the maritime powers—but to capture parts of the Spanish American territories that would benefit their trade and colonial empire. At the same time, he wanted to impose conditions on the new monarchy that would prevent any losses to English and Dutch trade privileges that existed under the Austrian rule. This strategy wouldn’t lead the main focus of the naval powers to the Spanish mainland but rather to America; and the allied fleets might not have needed to enter the Straits. Sicily and Naples were intended for Austria, not England. Later developments completely altered this overall plan. In 1703, the coalition backed a new candidate, a son of the Holy Roman Emperor, named Carlos III, turning the peninsula into the battleground of a complicated and bloody war, which kept the Anglo-Dutch fleets patrolling the coasts. The result for the maritime powers was that nothing of significant importance was accomplished in Spanish America, but England emerged from the conflict with control over Gibraltar and Port Mahon, becoming a Mediterranean power. At the same time, when Carlos III was declared king, a treaty with Portugal, known as the Methuen Treaty, was established, granting England a practical monopoly on Portuguese trade and allowing Brazilian gold to flow through Lisbon to London—an advantage so substantial that it significantly contributed to sustaining the war on the continent and maintaining the navy. At the same time, the navy’s effectiveness increased to the point where, although losses to French cruisers remained heavy, they were never unbearable.
When the war broke out, in pursuance of the original [207]policy, Sir George Rooke, with a fleet of fifty ships-of-the-line and transports carrying fourteen thousand troops, was sent against Cadiz, which was the great European centre of the Spanish-American trade; there came the specie and products of the West, and thence they were dispersed through Europe. It had been the purpose of William III. also to seize Cartagena, one of the principal centres of the same trade in the other hemisphere; and to that end, six months before his death, in September, 1701, he had despatched there a squadron under that traditional seaman of the olden time, Benbow. Benbow fell in with a French squadron sent to supply and strengthen the place, and brought it to action north of Cartagena; but though superior in force, the treason of several of his captains, who kept out of action, defeated his purpose, and after fighting till his ship was helpless and he himself had received a mortal wound, the French escaped and Cartagena was saved. Before his death Benbow received a letter from the French commodore to this effect: "Yesterday morning I had no hope but I should have supped in your cabin. As for those cowardly captains of yours, hang them up, for, by God! they deserve it." And hanged two of them were. Rooke's expedition against Cadiz also failed, as it was nearly certain to do; for his instructions were so to act as to conciliate the Spanish people and disincline them to the Bourbon king. Such doubtful orders tied his hands; but after failing there, he learned that the galleons from the West Indies, loaded with silver and merchandise, had put into Vigo Bay under escort of French ships-of-war. He went there at once, and found the enemy in a harbor whose entrance was but three quarters of a mile wide, defended by fortifications and a heavy boom; but a passage was forced through the boom under a hot fire, the place seized, and all the shipping, with much of the specie, either taken or sunk. This affair, which is known in history as that of the Vigo galleons, was a brilliant and interesting feat of arms, but has no military features calling for mention, except the blow it gave to the finances and prestige of the two crowns.
When the war started, following the original [207] policy, Sir George Rooke was sent with a fleet of fifty ships-of-the-line and transports carrying fourteen thousand troops to Cadiz, the major European hub for Spanish-American trade. This was where the wealth and products from the West arrived and were distributed throughout Europe. William III had also planned to capture Cartagena, another key center for the same trade in the Americas; to that end, he had sent a squadron led by the traditional old seaman, Benbow, six months before his death in September 1701. Benbow encountered a French squadron sent to reinforce the place and engaged them in battle north of Cartagena. Despite being stronger in numbers, his plans were thwarted by the betrayal of several of his captains, who stayed out of the fight. After battling until his ship was crippled and he himself mortally wounded, the French escaped, and Cartagena was saved. Before dying, Benbow received a letter from the French commodore stating, "Yesterday morning I had no hope but I should have supped in your cabin. As for those cowardly captains of yours, hang them up, for, by God! they deserve it." And two of them were hanged. Rooke’s expedition against Cadiz also ended in failure, as was almost expected; his orders were to act in a way that would win over the Spanish people and turn them against the Bourbon king. Such ambiguous orders limited his actions. However, after this failure, he learned that galleons from the West Indies, loaded with silver and goods, had entered Vigo Bay under the protection of French warships. He quickly went there and found the enemy in a harbor with an entrance only three-quarters of a mile wide, protected by fortifications and a heavy boom. But he forced a passage through the boom under heavy fire, took control of the place, and captured or sunk all the shipping along with a lot of silver. This event, known in history as the Vigo galleons affair, was a remarkable military achievement, but it mainly impacted the finances and prestige of both crowns.
[208]The affair at Vigo had, however, important political results, and helped to that change in the general plan of the sea powers which has been mentioned. The King of Portugal, moved by fear of the French, had acknowledged Philip V.; but his heart was against him, for he dreaded French influence and power brought so near his little and isolated kingdom. It had been a part of Rooke's mission to detach him from the alliance of the two crowns; and the affair of Vigo, happening so near his own frontiers, impressed him with a sense of the power of the allied navies. In truth, Portugal is nearer to the sea than to Spain, and must fall naturally under the influence of the power controlling the sea. Inducements were offered,—by the Emperor of Austria a cession of Spanish territory, by the sea powers a subsidy; but the king was not willing to declare himself until the Austrian claimant should have landed at Lisbon, fairly committing the coalition to a peninsular as well as a continental war. The emperor transferred his claims to his second son, Charles; and the latter, after being proclaimed in Vienna and acknowledged by England and Holland, was taken by the allied fleets to Lisbon, where he landed in March, 1704. This necessitated the important change in the plans of the sea powers. Pledged to the support of Carlos, their fleets were thenceforth tied to the shores of the peninsula and the protection of commerce; while the war in the West Indies, becoming a side issue on a small scale, led to no results. From this time on, Portugal was the faithful ally of England, whose sea power during this war gained its vast preponderance over all rivals. Her ports were the refuge and support of English fleets, and on Portugal was based in later days the Peninsular war with Napoleon. In and through all, Portugal, for a hundred years, had more to gain and more to fear from England than from any other power.
[208] The situation at Vigo had significant political consequences and contributed to the shift in strategy among the sea powers that has already been discussed. The King of Portugal, fearing the French, had recognized Philip V.; however, he was against him at heart because he feared the proximity of French influence and power to his small and isolated kingdom. Part of Rooke's mission was to sway him away from the alliance of the two crowns, and the incident at Vigo, occurring so close to his borders, made him realize the strength of the allied navies. In reality, Portugal is closer to the sea than to Spain and would naturally fall under the influence of whoever controls the sea. There were offers made—territory from the Emperor of Austria and a subsidy from the sea powers—but the king hesitated to take a stand until the Austrian claimant landed in Lisbon, fully committing the coalition to both a land and sea war. The emperor passed his claims to his second son, Charles; after being proclaimed in Vienna and recognized by England and Holland, he was brought by the allied fleets to Lisbon, where he landed in March 1704. This required a major change in the strategies of the sea powers. Committed to supporting Carlos, their fleets became tied to the peninsula and the protection of trade, while the war in the West Indies became a minor issue that yielded no significant outcomes. From that point on, Portugal became a loyal ally of England, whose maritime strength during this conflict established its dominance over all competitors. The Portuguese ports became sanctuaries and support for English fleets, laying the groundwork for the later Peninsular War against Napoleon. Throughout all of this, for a hundred years, Portugal had more to gain and more to fear from England than from any other power.
Great as were the effects of the maritime supremacy of the two sea powers upon the general result of the war, and especially upon that undisputed empire of the seas which England held for a century after, the contest is marked by no [209]one naval action of military interest. Once only did great fleets meet, and then with results that were indecisive; after which the French gave up the struggle at sea, confining themselves wholly to a commerce-destroying warfare. This feature of the War of the Spanish Succession characterizes nearly the whole of the eighteenth century, with the exception of the American Revolutionary struggle. The noiseless, steady, exhausting pressure with which sea power acts, cutting off the resources of the enemy while maintaining its own, supporting war in scenes where it does not appear itself, or appears only in the background, and striking open blows at rare intervals, though lost to most, is emphasized to the careful reader by the events of this war and of the half-century that followed. The overwhelming sea power of England was the determining factor in European history during the period mentioned, maintaining war abroad while keeping its own people in prosperity at home, and building up the great empire which is now seen; but from its very greatness its action, by escaping opposition, escapes attention. On the few occasions in which it is called to fight, its superiority is so marked that the affairs can scarcely be called battles; with the possible exceptions of Byng's action at Minorca and Hawke's at Quiberon, the latter one of the most brilliant pages in naval history, no decisive encounter between equal forces, possessing military interest, occurs between 1700 and 1778.
The impact of the maritime dominance of the two sea powers on the overall outcome of the war was significant, especially regarding the undisputed empire of the seas that England held for a century afterward. However, the contest is notable for lacking [209] any major naval battle of military significance. Only once did large fleets clash, and the outcome was inconclusive; after that, the French abandoned their efforts at sea and focused entirely on disrupting commerce. This aspect of the War of the Spanish Succession characterized nearly the entire eighteenth century, except for the American Revolutionary War. The quiet, relentless pressure exerted by sea power—cutting off the enemy's resources while sustaining its own, supporting military operations in areas where it remains unseen or only in the background, and delivering significant blows at rare intervals—is highlighted for the attentive reader by the events of this war and the following fifty years. The overwhelming naval strength of England was the key factor in European history during this time, enabling war overseas while keeping its own population prosperous at home and building the extensive empire we see today. Yet, due to its immense power, its actions often go unnoticed because they face little opposition. On the rare occasions it is called to battle, its superiority is so evident that the encounters hardly qualify as true battles; aside from Byng's engagement at Minorca and Hawke's at Quiberon— the latter being one of the most remarkable events in naval history—there are no significant clashes between equal forces of military interest from 1700 to 1778.
Owing to this characteristic, the War of the Spanish Succession, from the point of view of our subject, has to be blocked out in general outline, avoiding narrative and indicating general bearings, especially of the actions of the fleets. With the war in Flanders, in Germany, and in Italy the navies had naturally no concern; when they had so protected the commerce of the allies that there was no serious check to that flow of subsidies upon which the land war depended, their part toward it was done. In the Spanish peninsula it was different. Immediately after landing Carlos III. at Lisbon, Sir George Rooke sailed for Barcelona, which it [210]was understood would be handed over when the fleets appeared; but the governor was faithful to his king and kept down the Austrian party. Rooke then sailed for Toulon, where a French fleet was at anchor. On his way he sighted another French fleet coming from Brest, which he chased but was unable to overtake; so that both the enemy's squadrons were united in the port. It is worth while to note here that the English navy did not as yet attempt to blockade the French ports in winter, as they did at a later date. At this period fleets, like armies, went into winter quarters. Another English admiral, Sir Cloudesley Shovel, had been sent in the spring to blockade Brest; but arriving too late, he found his bird flown, and at once kept on to the Mediterranean. Rooke, not thinking himself strong enough to resist the combined French squadrons, fell back toward the Straits; for at this time England had no ports, no base, in the Mediterranean, no useful ally; Lisbon was the nearest refuge. Rooke and Shovel met off Lagos, and there held a council of war, in which the former, who was senior, declared that his instructions forbade his undertaking anything without the consent of the kings of Spain and Portugal. This was indeed tying the hands of the sea powers; but Rooke at last, chafing at the humiliating inaction, and ashamed to go home without doing something, decided to attack Gibraltar for three reasons: because he heard it was insufficiently garrisoned, because it was of infinite importance as a port for the present war, and because its capture would reflect credit on the queen's arms. The place was attacked, bombarded, and then carried by an assault in boats. The English possession of Gibraltar dates from August 4, 1704, and the deed rightly keeps alive the name of Rooke, to whose judgment and fearlessness of responsibility England owes the key of the Mediterranean.
Due to this characteristic, the War of the Spanish Succession, from our perspective, needs to be outlined generally, avoiding detailed narratives and focusing instead on the overall scope, especially regarding the fleets' actions. The war in Flanders, Germany, and Italy didn't involve the navies; once they secured the commerce of the allies to ensure a steady flow of subsidies for the land war, their role was complete. The situation was different in the Spanish peninsula. After landing Carlos III. at Lisbon, Sir George Rooke set sail for Barcelona, which it was expected would be handed over once the fleets arrived; however, the governor remained loyal to his king and suppressed the Austrian faction. Rooke then proceeded to Toulon, where a French fleet was anchored. On his way, he spotted another French fleet coming from Brest, which he pursued but couldn’t catch up to, resulting in both enemy squadrons gathering in port. It's notable that the English navy hadn’t yet started to blockade French ports during winter like they would later on. During this time, fleets, much like armies, went into winter quarters. Another English admiral, Sir Cloudesley Shovel, had been dispatched in the spring to blockade Brest; however, he arrived too late and found the enemy had already left, so he continued on to the Mediterranean. Not thinking he was strong enough to take on the combined French fleets, Rooke retreated toward the Straits, as England had no ports, base, or useful allies in the Mediterranean at that moment; Lisbon was the closest refuge. Rooke and Shovel met off Lagos and held a council of war, where Rooke, being the senior officer, stated that his orders prevented him from taking action without the approval of the kings of Spain and Portugal. This indeed restricted the actions of the naval powers; but Rooke, frustrated by the embarrassing inaction and unwilling to return home without achieving something, decided to attack Gibraltar for three reasons: he heard it was poorly garrisoned, it was crucial as a port for the ongoing war, and capturing it would bring prestige to the queen's forces. The location was attacked, bombarded, and ultimately taken in a boat assault. The English claim to Gibraltar dates back to August 4, 1704, and this accomplishment rightly keeps Rooke’s name alive, as England owes the key to the Mediterranean to his judgment and boldness.
The Bourbon king of Spain at once undertook to retake the place, and called upon the French fleet in Toulon to support his attack. Tourville had died in 1701, and the fleet was commanded by the Count of Toulouse,—a natural son of Louis XIV., only twenty-six years old. Rooke also sailed [211]eastward, and the two fleets met on the 24th of August off Velez Malaga. The allies were to windward with a northeast wind, both fleets on the port tack heading to the southward and eastward. There is some uncertainty as to the numbers; the French had fifty-two ships-of-the-line, their enemy probably half a dozen more. The allies kept away together, each ship for its opposite; there was apparently no attempt on Rooke's part at any tactical combination. The battle of Malaga possesses indeed no military interest, except that it is the first in which we find fully developed that wholly unscientific method of attack by the English which Clerk criticised, and which prevailed throughout the century. It is instructive to notice that the result in it was the same as in all others fought on the same principle. The van opened out from the centre, leaving quite an interval; and the attempt made to penetrate this gap and isolate the van was the only tactical move of the French. We find in them at Malaga no trace of the cautious, skilful tactics which Clerk rightly thought to recognize at a later day. The degeneracy from the able combinations of Monk, Ruyter, and Tourville to the epoch of mere seamanship is clearly marked by the battle of Malaga, and gives it its only historical importance. In it was realized that primitive mode of fighting which Macaulay has sung, and which remained for many years the ideal of the English navy:—
The Bourbon king of Spain immediately set out to reclaim the territory and called on the French fleet in Toulon for support. Tourville had died in 1701, and the fleet was now under the command of the Count of Toulouse, a natural son of Louis XIV, who was only twenty-six years old. Rooke also sailed [211] eastward, and the two fleets met on August 24 off Velez Malaga. The allies were upwind with a northeast wind, both fleets on the port tack heading south and east. There is some uncertainty about the numbers; the French had fifty-two ships of the line, while their enemy likely had about six more. The allies moved away together, each ship heading for the opposite side, and Rooke seemingly made no effort at any tactical strategy. The battle of Malaga is not particularly interesting from a military standpoint, except for being the first instance where we see the fully developed, unscientific method of attack by the English that Clerk criticized, which persisted throughout the century. It's noteworthy that the outcome mirrored all other battles fought under the same principle. The front opened up from the center, leaving a significant gap; the French made only one tactical attempt to exploit this gap and isolate the front. At Malaga, we see no evidence of the cautious, skillful tactics that Clerk would later recognize. The decline from the effective strategies of Monk, Ruyter, and Tourville to a mere focus on seamanship is clearly highlighted by the battle of Malaga, which grants it its only historical significance. This battle represented the primitive form of fighting that Macaulay celebrated, which remained the ideal for the English navy for many years:—
Gave the signal to charge; And on both sides, the foot soldiers Stepped forward with lance and shield; And on both sides, the horse riders Sharpened their spurs in blood,
And face to face the armies
"Met with a loud roar."
Human movement is not always advance; and there are traces of a somewhat similar ideal in the naval periodical literature of our own day. The fight was severe, lasting from ten in the morning till five in the afternoon, but was entirely indecisive. The next day the wind shifted, giving the [212]weather-gage to the French, but they did not use the opportunity to attack; for which they were much to blame, if their claim of the advantage the day before is well founded. Rooke could not have fought; nearly half his fleet, twenty-five ships, it is said, had used up all their ammunition. Even during the battle itself several of the allied ships were towed out of line, because they had not powder and ball for a single broadside. This was doubtless due to the attack upon Gibraltar, in which fifteen thousand shot were expended, and to the lack of any port serving as a base of supplies,—a deficiency which the new possession would hereafter remove. Rooke, in seizing Gibraltar, had the same object in view that prompted the United States to seize Port Royal at the beginning of the Civil War, and which made the Duke of Parma urge upon his king, before sending the Spanish Great Armada, to seize Flushing on the coast of Holland,—advice which, had it been followed, would have made unnecessary that dreary and disastrous voyage to the north of England. The same reasons would doubtless lead any nation intending serious operations against our seaboard, to seize points remote from the great centres and susceptible of defence, like Gardiner's Bay or Port Royal, which in an inefficient condition of our navy they might hold with and for their fleets.
Human movement doesn't always mean progress; and you can find hints of a similar idea in today's naval periodicals. The battle was intense, lasting from ten in the morning until five in the afternoon, but it ended without a clear decision. The next day, the wind shifted, giving the [212] weather advantage to the French, but they didn’t take the chance to attack, which they were quite wrong for if their claim of having the upper hand the day before was valid. Rooke wasn’t able to fight; nearly half his fleet, about twenty-five ships, had run out of ammunition. Even during the battle, several allied ships were towed out of formation because they didn’t have enough powder and ball for one broadside. This was likely due to the assault on Gibraltar, which used up fifteen thousand shots, and the lack of a supply base — a gap that their new acquisition would later solve. Rooke's capture of Gibraltar was driven by the same goal that led the United States to take Port Royal at the start of the Civil War, and it mirrored the Duke of Parma pressing his king to capture Flushing on the coast of Holland before sending the Spanish Armada — advice that, if heeded, could have avoided that long and disastrous trip to northern England. Similar reasons would likely encourage any nation planning serious operations against our coastline to take control of distant locations that could be defended, like Gardiner's Bay or Port Royal, which they might hold with and for their fleets when our navy was in an inefficient state.
Rooke retired in peace to Lisbon, bestowing by the way on Gibraltar all the victuals and ammunition that could be spared from the fleet. Toulouse, instead of following up his victory, if it was one, went back to Toulon, sending only ten ships-of-the-line to support the attack on Gibraltar. All the attempts of the French against the place were carried on in a futile manner; the investing squadron was finally destroyed and the land attack converted into a blockade. "With this reverse," says a French naval officer, "began in the French people a regrettable reaction against the navy. The wonders to which it had given birth, its immense services, were forgotten. Its value was no longer believed. The army, more directly in contact with the nation, had all its favor, all its sympathy. The prevailing error, that the greatness or decay [213]of France depended upon some Rhenish positions, could not but favor these ideas adverse to the sea service, which have made England's strength and our weakness."[76]
Rooke peacefully retired to Lisbon, giving all the food and ammunition that could be spared from the fleet to Gibraltar. Toulouse, instead of capitalizing on his victory, if it was one, returned to Toulon, sending only ten battleships to assist the attack on Gibraltar. All the French efforts against the place were carried out ineffectively; the blockading squadron was ultimately destroyed and the land attack turned into a blockade. "With this setback," says a French naval officer, "a regrettable backlash against the navy began among the French people. The achievements it had produced, its immense contributions, were forgotten. Its value was no longer recognized. The army, being more directly in touch with the nation, gained all the favor and sympathy. The common misconception that France's greatness or decline depended on some locations along the Rhine only fueled these negative views toward the naval service, which have made England's strength and our weakness." [213][76]
During this year, 1704, the battle of Blenheim was fought, in which the French and Bavarian troops were wholly overthrown by the English and German under Marlborough and Prince Eugene. The result of this battle was that Bavaria forsook the French alliance, and Germany became a secondary theatre of the general war, which was waged thereafter mainly in the Netherlands, Italy, and the Peninsula.
During this year, 1704, the battle of Blenheim was fought, in which the French and Bavarian troops were completely defeated by the English and Germans led by Marlborough and Prince Eugene. As a result of this battle, Bavaria abandoned its alliance with France, and Germany became a lesser focus in the overall war, which was fought mainly in the Netherlands, Italy, and the Peninsula.
The following year, 1705, the allies moved against Philip V. by two roads,—from Lisbon upon Madrid, and by way of Barcelona. The former attack, though based upon the sea, was mainly by land, and resultless; the Spanish people in that quarter showed unmistakably that they would not welcome the king set up by foreign powers. It was different in Catalonia. Carlos III. went there in person with the allied fleet. The French navy, inferior in numbers, kept in port. The French army also did not appear. The allied troops invested the town, aided by three thousand seamen and supported by supplies landed from the fleet, which was to them both base of supplies and line of communications. Barcelona surrendered on the 9th of October; all Catalonia welcomed Carlos, and the movement spread to Aragon and Valencia, the capital of the latter province declaring for Carlos.
The following year, 1705, the allies launched an attack on Philip V. from two directions—one from Lisbon towards Madrid, and another through Barcelona. The first attempt, although primarily a naval operation, turned out to be mostly a land campaign and was unsuccessful; the Spanish people in that area clearly showed they wouldn't accept a king imposed by foreign nations. The situation was different in Catalonia. Carlos III. personally went there with the allied fleet. The French navy, which was outnumbered, stayed in port, and the French army also didn't show up. The allied troops laid siege to the town, supported by three thousand sailors and supplies offloaded from the fleet, which served as both their supply base and communication line. Barcelona surrendered on October 9th; all of Catalonia embraced Carlos, and the movement spread to Aragon and Valencia, with the capital of Valencia declaring support for Carlos.
The following year, 1706, the French took the offensive in Spain on the borders of Catalonia, while defending the passes of the mountains toward Portugal. In the absence of the allied fleet, and of the succors which it brought and maintained, the resistance was weak, and Barcelona was again besieged, this time by the French party supported by a French fleet of thirty sail-of-the-line and numerous transports with supplies from the neighboring port of Toulon. The siege, begun April 5, was going on hopefully; the Austrian claimant himself was within the walls, the prize of success; but on the 10th of May the allied fleet appeared, the French ships [214]retired, and the siege was raised in disorder. The Bourbon claimant dared not retreat into Aragon, and so passed by Roussillon into France, leaving his rival in possession. At the same time there moved forward from Portugal—that other base which the sea power of the English and Dutch at once controlled and utilized—another army maintained by the subsidies earned from the ocean. This time the western attack was more successful; many cities in Estremadura and Leon fell, and as soon as the allied generals learned the raising of the siege of Barcelona, they pressed on by way of Salamanca to Madrid. Philip V., after escaping into France, had returned to Spain by the western Pyrenees; but on the approach of the allies he had again to fly, leaving to them his capital. The Portuguese and allied troops entered Madrid, June 26, 1706. The allied fleet, after the fall of Barcelona, seized Alicante and Cartagena.
The following year, 1706, the French took the offensive in Spain near the borders of Catalonia while defending the mountain passes towards Portugal. With the absence of the allied fleet and the supplies it provided, resistance was weak, and Barcelona was once again besieged, this time by the French forces supported by a French fleet of thirty ships and numerous transports bringing supplies from the nearby port of Toulon. The siege began on April 5 and was progressing positively; the Austrian claimant was inside the walls, with victory in sight; but on May 10, the allied fleet showed up, causing the French ships [214] to retreat, and the siege was lifted in chaos. The Bourbon claimant didn’t dare retreat into Aragon and instead crossed into France through Roussillon, leaving his rival in control. Meanwhile, another army moved forward from Portugal—an area that the naval strength of the English and Dutch both controlled and exploited—funded by the subsidies from overseas. This time the western attack was more effective; many cities in Estremadura and Leon fell, and as soon as the allied generals learned that the siege of Barcelona had been lifted, they advanced via Salamanca to Madrid. Philip V, after fleeing to France, returned to Spain through the western Pyrenees; but upon the allies' approach, he had to escape again, leaving his capital behind. The Portuguese and allied troops entered Madrid on June 26, 1706. Following the fall of Barcelona, the allied fleet took control of Alicante and Cartagena.
So far success had gone; but the inclinations of the Spanish people had been mistaken, and the strength of their purpose and pride, supported by the natural features of their country, was not yet understood. The national hatred to the Portuguese was aroused, as well as the religious dislike to heretics, the English general himself being a Huguenot refugee. Madrid and the surrounding country were disaffected, and the south sent the Bourbon king assurance of its fidelity. The allies were not able to remain in the hostile capital, particularly as the region around was empty of supplies and full of guerillas. They retired to the eastward, drawing toward the Austrian claimant in Aragon. Reverse followed reverse, and on the 25th of April, 1707, the allied army was disastrously overthrown at Almansa, losing fifteen thousand men. All Spain fell back again into the power of Philip V., except the province of Catalonia, part of which also was subdued. The next year, 1708, the French made some progress in the same quarter, but were not able to attack Barcelona; Valencia and Alicante, however, were reduced.
So far, success had been achieved; however, the Spanish people's intentions had been misjudged, and the strength of their determination and pride, supported by the natural characteristics of their country, was not yet recognized. The national animosity towards the Portuguese was stirred, along with the religious dislike for heretics, as the English general himself was a Huguenot refugee. Madrid and the surrounding areas were discontented, and the south assured the Bourbon king of its loyalty. The allies couldn't stay in the hostile capital, especially since the surrounding region lacked supplies and was filled with guerrillas. They retreated eastward, moving towards the Austrian claimant in Aragon. One defeat followed another, and on April 25, 1707, the allied army suffered a disastrous defeat at Almansa, losing fifteen thousand men. All of Spain fell back under Philip V.'s control, except for the province of Catalonia, part of which was also conquered. The following year, 1708, the French made some advancements in the same area but were unable to attack Barcelona; however, Valencia and Alicante were captured.
The year 1707 was not marked by any naval event of importance. During the summer the allied fleets in the [215]Mediterranean were diverted from the coast of Spain to support an attack upon Toulon made by the Austrians and Piedmontese. The latter moved from Italy along the coast of the Mediterranean, the fleet supporting the flank on the sea, and contributing supplies. The siege, however, failed, and the campaign was inconclusive. Returning home, the admiral, Sir Cloudesley Shovel, with several ships-of-the-line, was lost on the Scilly Islands, in one of those shipwrecks which have become historical.
The year 1707 didn't see any significant naval events. During the summer, the allied fleets in the [215]Mediterranean were redirected from the coast of Spain to back an attack on Toulon led by the Austrians and Piedmontese. The Piedmontese traveled from Italy along the Mediterranean coast, with the fleet supporting their flank at sea and providing supplies. However, the siege failed, and the campaign ended inconclusively. On his way back home, Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovel, along with several ships-of-the-line, was lost on the Scilly Islands in one of those historic shipwrecks.
In 1708 the allied fleets seized Sardinia, which from its fruitfulness and nearness to Barcelona became a rich storehouse to the Austrian claimant, so long as by the allied help he controlled the sea. The same year Minorca, with its valuable harbor, Port Mahon, was also taken, and from that time for fifty years remained in English hands. Blocking Cadiz and Cartagena by the possession of Gibraltar, and facing Toulon with Port Mahon, Great Britain was now as strongly based in the Mediterranean as either France or Spain; while, with Portugal as an ally, she controlled the two stations of Lisbon and Gibraltar, watching the trade routes both of the ocean and of the inland sea. By the end of 1708 the disasters of France by land and sea, the frightful sufferings of the kingdom, and the almost hopelessness of carrying on a strife which was destroying France, and easily borne by England, led Louis XIV. to offer most humiliating concessions to obtain peace. He undertook to surrender the whole Spanish monarchy, reserving only Naples for the Bourbon king. The allies refused; they demanded the abandonment of the whole Spanish Empire without exception by the Duke of Anjou, refusing to call him king, and added thereto ruinous conditions for France herself. Louis would not yield these, and the war went on.
In 1708, the allied fleets captured Sardinia, which, due to its fertility and proximity to Barcelona, became a lucrative asset for the Austrian claimant, as long as he had the support of the allies to control the sea. That same year, Minorca, with its valuable harbor, Port Mahon, was also taken, and for fifty years it remained in English hands. By possessing Gibraltar, Great Britain blocked Cadiz and Cartagena, and with Port Mahon facing Toulon, Britain established a strong presence in the Mediterranean, rivaling both France and Spain. With Portugal as an ally, Britain controlled the key locations of Lisbon and Gibraltar, overseeing the trade routes of both the ocean and the inland sea. By the end of 1708, France suffered significant losses both on land and at sea, endured terrible hardships, and faced the grim reality of continuing a war that was devastating France but manageable for England. This led Louis XIV to propose humiliating concessions to secure peace. He agreed to surrender the entire Spanish monarchy, keeping only Naples for the Bourbon king. The allies refused; they insisted on the complete abandonment of the Spanish Empire by the Duke of Anjou, refusing to recognize him as king, and added harsh terms for France itself. Louis would not concede these demands, and the war continued.
During the remaining years the strenuous action of the sea power of the allies, which had by this time come to be that of Great Britain alone, with little help from Holland, was less than ever obtrusive, but the reality of its effect remained. The Austrian claimant, confined to Catalonia for the most [216]part, was kept in communication with Sardinia and the Italian provinces of Germany by the English fleet; but the entire disappearance of the French navy and the evident intention on the part of Louis to keep no squadrons at sea, allowed some diminution of the Mediterranean fleet, with the result of greater protection to trade. In the years 1710 and 1711 expeditions were also made against the French colonies in North America. Nova Scotia was taken, but an attempt on Quebec failed.
During the remaining years, the intense efforts of the allied naval forces, which by this time consisted mostly of Great Britain with minimal assistance from Holland, were less noticeable than ever, but their impact remained significant. The Austrian claimant, primarily restricted to Catalonia, was able to communicate with Sardinia and the Italian provinces of Germany thanks to the English fleet; however, the complete disappearance of the French navy and Louis's clear intention to keep no squadrons at sea led to a reduction in the Mediterranean fleet, resulting in better protection for trade. In 1710 and 1711, expeditions were also launched against the French colonies in North America. Nova Scotia was captured, but an attempt to take Quebec was unsuccessful.
During the winter of 1709 and 1710 Louis withdrew all the French troops from Spain, thus abandoning the cause of his grandson. But when the cause of France was at the very lowest, and it seemed as though she might be driven to concessions which would reduce her to a second-class power, the existence of the coalition was threatened by the disgrace of Marlborough, who represented England in it. His loss of favor with the queen was followed by the accession to power of the party opposed to the war, or rather to its further continuance. This change took place in the summer of 1710, and the inclination toward peace was strengthened both by the favorable position in which England then stood for treating, and by the heavy burden she was bearing; which it became evident could bring in no further advantages commensurate to its weight. The weaker ally, Holland, had gradually ceased to contribute her stipulated share to the sea forces; and although far-sighted Englishmen might see with complacency the disappearance of a rival sea power, the immediate increase of expense was more looked to and felt by the men of the day. The cost both of the continental and Spanish wars was also largely defrayed by England's subsidies; and while that on the continent could bring her no further gain, it was seen that the sympathies of the Spanish people could not be overborne in favor of Carlos III. without paying more than the game was worth. Secret negotiations between England and France soon began, and received an additional impulse by the unexpected death of the Emperor of Germany, the brother of the Austrian claimant of the Spanish throne. [217]There being no other male heir, Carlos became at once emperor of Austria, and was soon after elected emperor of Germany. England had no more wish to see two crowns on an Austrian head than on that of a Bourbon.
During the winter of 1709 and 1710, Louis pulled all French troops out of Spain, effectively abandoning his grandson's cause. But just when France seemed to be at its lowest point, facing the possibility of being forced into concessions that would reduce it to a second-class power, the coalition was put in jeopardy by Marlborough's disgrace, who was representing England in it. His fall from favor with the queen led to the rise of the party that opposed the war, or at least its continuation. This shift happened in the summer of 1710, and the push for peace was strengthened by England's favorable position for negotiations, along with the heavy burden it was carrying, which seemed unlikely to yield any significant advantages. The weaker ally, Holland, gradually stopped contributing its promised share to the naval forces; and while visionary Englishmen might have welcomed the decline of a rival naval power, the immediate rise in expenses was more pressing for the people of the time. England was largely covering the costs of both the continental and Spanish wars with its subsidies; and since the continental conflict stood to provide no additional gain, it became clear that the Spanish people's support for Carlos III. couldn't be swayed without paying more than it was worth. Secret talks between England and France soon began, further catalyzed by the unexpected death of the Holy Roman Emperor, who was the brother of the Austrian claimant to the Spanish throne. [217] With no other male heir, Carlos immediately became the emperor of Austria and was soon elected as the emperor of Germany. England didn't want to see two crowns on an Austrian head any more than on that of a Bourbon.
The demands made by England, as conditions of peace in 1711, showed her to have become a sea power in the purest sense of the word, not only in fact, but also in her own consciousness. She required that the same person should never be king both of France and Spain; that a barrier of fortified towns should be granted her allies, Holland and Germany, as a defensive line against France; that French conquests from her allies should be restored; and for herself she demanded the formal cession of Gibraltar and Port Mahon, whose strategic and maritime value has been pointed out, the destruction of the port of Dunkirk, the home nest of the privateers that preyed on English commerce, the cession of the French colonies of Newfoundland, Hudson's Bay, and Nova Scotia, the last of which she held at that time, and finally, treaties of commerce with France and Spain, and the concession of the monopoly of the slave trade with Spanish America, known as the Asiento, which Spain had given to France in 1701.
The demands made by England as terms for peace in 1711 showed that it had truly become a naval power, not just in practice but also in its own awareness. England required that one person could never be king of both France and Spain; that a line of fortified towns should be given to its allies, Holland and Germany, as a defense against France; that French conquests taken from its allies should be returned; and for itself, it demanded the formal transfer of Gibraltar and Port Mahon, which were recognized for their strategic and maritime value, the destruction of the port of Dunkirk, the base for privateers that attacked English trade, the transfer of French colonies like Newfoundland, Hudson's Bay, and Nova Scotia, the last of which England held at the time, and finally, trade agreements with France and Spain, along with a concession for the monopoly on the slave trade with Spanish America, known as the Asiento, which Spain had granted to France in 1701.
Negotiations continued, though hostilities did not cease; and in June, 1712, a four months' truce between Great Britain and France removed the English troops from the allied armies on the continent, their great leader Marlborough having been taken from their head the year before. The campaign of 1712 was favorable to France; but in almost any event the withdrawal of Great Britain made the end of the war a question of but a short time. The remonstrances of Holland were met by the reply that since 1707 the Dutch had not furnished more than one third their quota of ships, and taking the war through, not over one half. The House of Commons in an address to the throne in 1712 complained that—
Negotiations continued, but hostilities didn’t stop; and in June 1712, a four-month truce between Great Britain and France led to the removal of English troops from the allied armies on the continent, as their great leader Marlborough had been taken from command the year before. The campaign of 1712 was favorable to France; however, regardless of the outcome, Great Britain's withdrawal made the end of the war just a matter of time. The concerns from Holland were met with the response that since 1707, the Dutch hadn’t provided more than one-third of their required ships, and overall, they contributed less than half throughout the war. The House of Commons, in a message to the throne in 1712, expressed that—
"The service at sea hath been carried on through the whole course of the war in a manner highly disadvantageous to your Majesty's kingdom, for the necessity requiring that great fleets should be fitted [218]out every year for maintaining a superiority in the Mediterranean and for opposing any force which the enemy might prepare either at Dunkirk or in the ports of west France; your Majesty's readiness, in fitting out your proportion of ships for all parts of that service, hath not prevailed with Holland, which has been greatly deficient every year in proportion to what your Majesty hath furnished.... Hence your Majesty hath been obliged to supply those deficiencies with additional reinforcements of your own ships, and your Majesty's ships have been forced in greater numbers to continue in remote seas, and at unseasonable times of the year, to the great damage of the navy. This also hath straitened the convoys for trade; the coasts have been exposed for want of cruisers; and you have been disabled from annoying the enemy in their most beneficial commerce with the West Indies, whence they received those vast supplies of treasure, without which they could not have supported the expenses of the war."
"The naval service has been conducted throughout the entire war in a way that has been very unfavorable for your Majesty's kingdom. The situation requires that large fleets be sent out every year to maintain superiority in the Mediterranean and to counter any forces the enemy might prepare at Dunkirk or in the western French ports. Despite your Majesty's willingness to prepare your share of ships for all parts of that service, Holland has consistently fallen short each year compared to what your Majesty has provided. As a result, your Majesty has had to fill these gaps with additional reinforcements from your own ships, forcing your Majesty's vessels to remain in distant seas for longer periods and at inconvenient times of the year, which has significantly harmed the navy. This has also restricted trade convoys; the coasts have been vulnerable due to a lack of cruisers; and you've been unable to disrupt the enemy's profitable trade with the West Indies, from which they receive enormous amounts of treasure, essential for financing the war."
In fact, between 1701 and 1716 the commerce of Spanish America had brought into France forty million dollars in specie. To these complaints the Dutch envoy to England could only reply that Holland was not in a condition to fulfil her compacts. The reverses of 1712, added to Great Britain's fixed purpose to have peace, decided the Dutch to the same; and the English still kept, amid their dissatisfaction with their allies, so much of their old feeling against France as to support all the reasonable claims of Holland. April 11, 1713, an almost general peace, known as the Peace of Utrecht, one of the landmarks of history, was signed between France on the one hand, and England, Holland, Prussia, Portugal, and Savoy on the other. The emperor still held out, but the loss of British subsidies fettered the movements of his armies, and with the withdrawal of the sea powers the continental war might have fallen of itself; but France with her hands freed carried on during 1713 a brilliant and successful campaign in Germany. On the 7th of March, 1714, peace was signed between France and Austria. Some embers of the war continued to burn in Catalonia and the Balearic Islands, which persisted in their rebellion against Philip V.; but the revolt was stifled as soon as the arms of [219]France were turned against them. Barcelona was taken by storm in September, 1714; the islands submitted in the following summer.
Between 1701 and 1716, the trade from Spanish America brought France forty million dollars in gold and silver. In response to these issues, the Dutch envoy to England could only say that Holland wasn't in a position to fulfill its agreements. The setbacks of 1712, combined with Great Britain's determination to achieve peace, led the Dutch to do the same; meanwhile, the English, despite their frustration with their allies, still held onto some of their old animosity against France, supporting all of Holland's reasonable demands. On April 11, 1713, a nearly universal peace known as the Peace of Utrecht, a significant historical event, was signed between France and England, Holland, Prussia, Portugal, and Savoy. The emperor was still resisting, but the lack of British support hampered his armies' movements, and with the withdrawal of the naval powers, the continental conflict might have resolved itself. However, France, now unencumbered, conducted a brilliant and successful campaign in Germany throughout 1713. On March 7, 1714, peace between France and Austria was finalized. Some remnants of the war lingered in Catalonia and the Balearic Islands, which continued their rebellion against Philip V.; but the uprising was quickly suppressed once the forces of [219]France were directed at them. Barcelona was captured in September 1714, and the islands surrendered the following summer.
The changes effected by this long war and sanctioned by the peace, neglecting details of lesser or passing importance, may be stated as follows: 1. The House of Bourbon was settled on the Spanish throne, and the Spanish empire retained its West Indian and American possessions; the purpose of William III. against her dominion there was frustrated when England undertook to support the Austrian prince, and so fastened the greater part of her naval force to the Mediterranean. 2. The Spanish empire lost its possessions in the Netherlands, Gelderland going to the new kingdom of Prussia and Belgium to the emperor; the Spanish Netherlands thus became the Austrian Netherlands. 3. Spain lost also the principal islands of the Mediterranean; Sardinia being given to Austria, Minorca with its fine harbor to Great Britain, and Sicily to the Duke of Savoy. 4. Spain lost also her Italian possessions, Milan and Naples going to the emperor. Such, in the main, were the results to Spain of the fight over the succession to her throne.
The changes brought about by this lengthy war and confirmed by the peace, ignoring less important details, can be summarized as follows: 1. The House of Bourbon was established on the Spanish throne, and the Spanish Empire kept its territories in the West Indies and the Americas; William III's plans to challenge her rule there were thwarted when England decided to back the Austrian prince, which tied up most of her naval forces in the Mediterranean. 2. The Spanish Empire lost its territories in the Netherlands, with Gelderland going to the new Kingdom of Prussia and Belgium to the emperor; the Spanish Netherlands consequently became the Austrian Netherlands. 3. Spain also lost key islands in the Mediterranean; Sardinia was given to Austria, Minorca with its excellent harbor was given to Great Britain, and Sicily went to the Duke of Savoy. 4. Spain lost her Italian territories as well, with Milan and Naples going to the emperor. These were essentially the main outcomes for Spain from the struggle over her throne's succession.
France, the backer of the successful claimant, came out of the strife worn out, and with considerable loss of territory. She had succeeded in placing a king of her own royal house on a neighboring throne, but her sea strength was exhausted, her population diminished, her financial condition ruined. The European territory surrendered was on her northern and eastern boundaries; and she abandoned the use of the port of Dunkirk, the centre of that privateering warfare so dreaded by English merchants. In America, the cession of Nova Scotia and Newfoundland was the first step toward that entire loss of Canada which befell half a century later; but for the present she retained Cape Breton Island, with its port Louisburg, the key to the Gulf and River St. Lawrence.
France, the supporter of the successful claimant, came out of the conflict exhausted and with significant territorial losses. She had managed to place a king from her own royal family on a neighboring throne, but her naval power was depleted, her population reduced, and her financial situation devastated. The European territories that were given up were along her northern and eastern borders; she also gave up the use of the port of Dunkirk, which had been the center of the privateering warfare that English merchants feared. In America, giving up Nova Scotia and Newfoundland was the first step toward the total loss of Canada that would happen half a century later; however, for now, she held on to Cape Breton Island, with its port Louisburg, which was the key to the Gulf and River St. Lawrence.
The gains of England, by the treaty and the war, corresponded very nearly to the losses of France and Spain, and were all in the direction of extending and strengthening her sea [220]power. Gibraltar and Port Mahon in the Mediterranean, and the colonies already mentioned in North America, afforded new bases to that power, extending and protecting her trade. Second only to the expansion of her own was the injury to the sea power of France and Holland, by the decay of their navies in consequence of the immense drain of the land warfare; further indications of that decay will be given later. The very neglect of Holland to fill up her quota of ships, and the bad condition of those sent, while imposing extra burdens upon England, may be considered a benefit, forcing the British navy to greater development and effort. The disproportion in military power on the sea was further increased by the destruction of the works at Dunkirk; for though not in itself a first-class port, nor of much depth of water, it had great artificial military strength, and its position was peculiarly adapted to annoy English trade. It was but forty miles from the South Foreland and the Downs, and the Channel abreast it is but twenty miles wide. Dunkirk was one of Louis' earliest acquisitions, and in its development was as his own child; the dismantling of the works and filling-in of the port show the depth of his humiliation at this time. But it was the wisdom of England not to base her sea power solely on military positions nor even on fighting-ships, and the commercial advantages she had now gained by the war and the peace were very great. The grant of the slave trade with Spanish America, in itself lucrative, became yet more so as the basis for an immense smuggling intercourse with those countries, which gave the English a partial recompense for their failure to obtain actual possession; while the cessions made to Portugal by France in South America were mainly to the advantage of England, which had obtained the control of Portuguese trade by the treaty of 1703. The North American colonies ceded were valuable, not merely nor chiefly as military stations, but commercially; and treaties of commerce on favorable terms were made both with France and Spain. A minister of the day, defending the treaty in Parliament, said: "The advantages from this peace [221]appear in the addition made to our wealth; in the great quantities of bullion lately coined in our mint; by the vast increase in our shipping employed since the peace, in the fisheries, and in merchandise; and by the remarkable growth of the customs upon imports, and of our manufactures, and the growth of our country upon export;" in a word, by the impetus to trade in all its branches.
The benefits England gained from the treaty and the war closely matched the losses of France and Spain, all contributing to the expansion and strengthening of its naval power. Gibraltar and Port Mahon in the Mediterranean, along with the North American colonies mentioned earlier, provided new bases for that power, enhancing and safeguarding its trade. The injury to the naval power of France and Holland, largely due to the decline of their navies from the toll of land warfare, was second only to England's own expansion; more details on this decline will be provided later. Holland's failure to fully contribute its quota of ships, combined with the poor condition of those that were sent, not only imposed extra burdens on England but also inadvertently pushed the British navy to grow stronger and work harder. The imbalance in naval military power was further exacerbated by the destruction of the facilities at Dunkirk; while it wasn't a top-tier port and lacked depth, it had significant military capability and was ideally situated to disrupt English trade. Dunkirk was only forty miles from the South Foreland and the Downs, with the channel next to it being just twenty miles wide. Dunkirk was one of Louis' earliest acquisitions, and its development was like raising his own child; the dismantling of its defenses and filling in of the port highlighted the depth of his humiliation at that time. However, England wisely chose not to base its naval power solely on military sites or fighting ships, and the commercial advantages gained through the war and peace were substantial. The concession of the slave trade with Spanish America was lucrative in itself but became even more profitable as a foundation for extensive smuggling with those countries, partially compensating the English for their inability to gain actual possession. The territories ceded to Portugal by France in South America primarily benefited England, which had gained control of Portuguese trade through the treaty of 1703. The ceded North American colonies were valuable not just as military outposts but also commercially; favorable trade treaties were established with both France and Spain. A government minister defending the treaty in Parliament remarked: "The benefits from this peace appear in the increase of our wealth; the large amounts of bullion recently minted; the significant growth in our shipping used since the peace, in fisheries, and in trade; and the notable rise in customs from imports, our manufacturing, and our country’s exports;" in short, the boost to trade across all sectors.
While England thus came out from the war in good running condition, and fairly placed in that position of maritime supremacy which she has so long maintained, her old rival in trade and fighting was left hopelessly behind. As the result of the war Holland obtained nothing at sea,—no colony, no station. The commercial treaty with France placed her on the same terms as England, but she received no concessions giving her a footing in Spanish America like that obtained by her ally. Indeed, some years before the peace, while the coalition was still maintaining Carlos, a treaty was made with the latter by the British minister, unknown to the Dutch, practically giving the British monopoly of Spanish trade in America; sharing it only with Spaniards, which was pretty much the same as not sharing it at all. This treaty accidentally became known, and made a great impression on the Dutch; but England was then so necessary to the coalition that she ran no risk of being left out by its other members. The gain which Holland made by land was that of military occupation only, of certain fortified places in the Austrian Netherlands, known to history as the "barrier towns;" nothing was added by them to her revenue, population, or resources; nothing to that national strength which must underlie military institutions. Holland had forsaken, perhaps unavoidably, the path by which she had advanced to wealth and to leadership among nations. The exigencies of her continental position had led to the neglect of her navy, which in those days of war and privateering involved a loss of carrying-trade and commerce: and although she held her head high through the war, the symptoms of weakness were apparent in her failing [222]armaments. Therefore, though the United Provinces attained the great object for which they began the war, and saved the Spanish Netherlands from the hands of France, the success was not worth the cost. Thenceforth they withdrew for a long period from the wars and diplomacy of Europe; partly, perhaps, because they saw how little they had gained, but yet more from actual weakness and inability. After the strenuous exertions of the war came a reaction, which showed painfully the inherent weakness of a State narrow in territory and small in the number of its people. The visible decline of the Provinces dates from the Peace of Utrecht; the real decline began earlier. Holland ceased to be numbered among the great powers of Europe, her navy was no longer a military factor in diplomacy, and her commerce also shared in the general decline of the State.
While England emerged from the war in great shape and maintained its long-held maritime dominance, its old rival in trade and warfare was left far behind. As a result of the war, Holland gained nothing at sea—no colonies, no naval bases. The commercial treaty with France put her on equal footing with England, but she didn’t receive any concessions that would give her a foothold in Spanish America like her ally did. In fact, a few years before the peace, while the coalition was still supporting Carlos, a treaty was made with him by the British minister, unknown to the Dutch, which effectively gave the British a monopoly on Spanish trade in America, sharing it only with the Spaniards, which was basically no sharing at all. This treaty was discovered by the Dutch and caused a significant stir; however, England was so crucial to the coalition that she faced no risk of being excluded by the other members. The only gain Holland achieved on land was the military occupation of certain fortified places in the Austrian Netherlands, known historically as the "barrier towns;" this did not add to her revenue, population, or resources, and certainly did not strengthen her military capacity. Holland had, perhaps unavoidably, strayed from the path that had previously led her to wealth and leadership among nations. The demands of her continental position had resulted in neglecting her navy, which during those times of war and privateering led to the loss of merchant trade and commerce: and even though she held her head high during the war, signs of weakness were evident in her dwindling [222]armaments. Thus, although the United Provinces achieved the significant goal they set out for in the war and saved the Spanish Netherlands from France, the success wasn’t worth the cost. From that point on, they withdrew from European wars and diplomacy for a long time; partly because they recognized how little they had gained, but even more due to actual weakness and inability. After the intense efforts of the war, a reaction set in, revealing the underlying fragility of a state limited in territory and population. The visible decline of the Provinces began with the Peace of Utrecht; however, the true decline had started earlier. Holland was no longer counted among the great powers of Europe, her navy ceased to be a significant military player in diplomacy, and her trade also suffered in the overall decline of the state.
It remains only to notice briefly the results to Austria, and to Germany generally. France yielded the barrier of the Rhine, with fortified places on the east bank of the river. Austria received, as has been mentioned, Belgium, Sardinia, Naples, and the Spanish possessions in northern Italy; dissatisfied in other respects, Austria was especially discontented at her failure to obtain Sicily, and did not cease negotiating afterward, until she had secured that island. A circumstance more important to Germany and to all Europe than this transitory acquisition of distant and alien countries by Austria was the rise of Prussia, which dates from this war as a Protestant and military kingdom destined to weigh in the balance against Austria.
It’s worth briefly noting the outcomes for Austria and Germany as a whole. France gave up control of the Rhine, along with fortified cities on the eastern bank of the river. Austria, as previously mentioned, gained Belgium, Sardinia, Naples, and the Spanish territories in northern Italy; however, Austria was dissatisfied for various reasons, particularly feeling let down about not securing Sicily. They continued negotiations until they ultimately acquired that island. More significant for Germany and all of Europe than Austria’s temporary gain of these distant territories was the rise of Prussia, which began during this war as a Protestant and military kingdom that was meant to counterbalance Austria.
Such were the leading results of the War of the Spanish Succession, "the vastest yet witnessed by Europe since the Crusades." It was a war whose chief military interest was on the land,—a war in which fought two of the greatest generals of all times, Marlborough and Prince Eugene, the names of whose battles, Blenheim, Ramillies, Malplaquet, Turin, are familiar to the most casual reader of history; while a multitude of able men distinguished themselves on the other theatres of the strife, in Flanders, in Germany, in [223]Italy, in Spain. On the sea only one great battle, and that scarcely worthy of the name, took place. Yet looking only, for the moment, to immediate and evident results, who reaped the benefit? Was it France, whose only gain was to seat a Bourbon on the Spanish throne? Was it Spain, whose only gain was to have a Bourbon king instead of an Austrian, and thus a closer alliance with France? Was it Holland, with its barrier of fortified towns, its ruined navy, and its exhausted people? Was it, lastly, Austria, even though she had fought with the money of the sea powers, and gained such maritime States as the Netherlands and Naples? Was it with these, who had waged war more and more exclusively by land, and set their eyes more and more on gains on the land, or was it not rather with England, who had indeed paid for that continental war and even backed it with her troops, but who meanwhile was building up her navy, strengthening, extending, and protecting her commerce, seizing maritime positions,—in a word, founding and rearing her sea power upon the ruins of that of her rivals, friend and foe alike? It is not to depreciate the gains of others that the eye fixes on England's naval growth; their gains but bring out more clearly the immenseness of hers. It was a gain to France to have a friend rather than an enemy in her rear, though her navy and shipping were ruined. It was a gain to Spain to be brought in close intercourse with a living country like France after a century of political death, and she had saved the greater part of her threatened possessions. It was a gain to Holland to be definitively freed from French aggression, with Belgium in the hands of a strong instead of a weak State. And it doubtless was a gain to Austria not only to have checked, chiefly at the expense of others, the progress of her hereditary enemy, but also to have received provinces like Sicily and Naples, which, under wise government, might become the foundation of a respectable sea power. But not one of these gains, nor all together, compared in greatness, and much less in solidity, with the gain to England of that unequalled sea power which started ahead [224]during the War of the League of Augsburg, and received its completeness and seal during that of the Spanish Succession. By it she controlled the great commerce of the open sea with a military shipping that had no rival, and in the exhausted condition of the other nations could have none; and that shipping was now securely based on strong positions in all the disputed quarters of the world. Although her Indian empire was not yet begun, the vast superiority of her navy would enable her to control the communications of other nations with those rich and distant regions, and to assert her will in any disputes arising among the trading-stations of the different nationalities. The commerce which had sustained her in prosperity, and her allies in military efficiency, during the war, though checked and harassed by the enemy's cruisers (to which she could pay only partial attention amid the many claims upon her), started with a bound into new life when the war was over. All over the world, exhausted by their share of the common suffering, people were longing for the return of prosperity and peaceful commerce; and there was no country ready as England was in wealth, capital, and shipping to forward and reap the advantages of every enterprise by which the interchange of commodities was promoted, either by lawful or unlawful means. In the War of the Spanish Succession, by her own wise management and through the exhaustion of other nations, not only her navy but her trade was steadily built up; and indeed, in that dangerous condition of the seas, traversed by some of the most reckless and restless cruisers France ever sent out, the efficiency of the navy meant safer voyages, and so more employment for the merchant-ships. The British merchant-ships, being better protected than those of the Dutch, gained the reputation of being far safer carriers, and the carrying-trade naturally passed more and more into their hands; while the habit of employing them in preference, once established, was likely to continue.
The main outcomes of the War of the Spanish Succession were significant, being "the largest seen in Europe since the Crusades." It was primarily a land war, featuring two of history's greatest generals, Marlborough and Prince Eugene. Their battles—Blenheim, Ramillies, Malplaquet, and Turin—are well-known even to casual history readers. Many skilled individuals also distinguished themselves in various other theaters of conflict, including Flanders, Germany, Italy, and Spain. At sea, there was only one major battle, and it was hardly worthy of the title. But if we look solely at immediate and obvious results, who actually benefited? Was it France, which only managed to place a Bourbon on the Spanish throne? Was it Spain, which merely exchanged an Austrian king for a Bourbon and thus became more closely tied to France? Was it Holland, with its fortified towns, ruined navy, and weary population? Or was it Austria, despite having fought using the funds from sea powers and gaining maritime territories like the Netherlands and Naples? Was victory with those who increasingly waged war primarily on land and focused on land gains, or did it belong to England, which indeed paid for that continental conflict and supported it with her troops but was also building up her navy, enhancing and protecting her trade, and seizing maritime positions—essentially establishing her sea power while her rivals both friend and foe faltered? The focus on England's naval growth isn't meant to diminish the achievements of others; rather, their gains highlight the enormity of England's advancement. France benefited from having a friend rather than an enemy close by, even though her navy and shipping were in ruins. Spain gained from renewed closeness with a vibrant country like France after a long period of political stagnation and managed to preserve most of her threatened holdings. Holland benefited from being definitively free of French aggression, with a strong State rather than a weak one in Belgium. It was certainly a win for Austria to have at least temporarily checked her long-standing adversary’s progress and to have acquired provinces like Sicily and Naples, which could potentially serve as a foundation for a respectable sea power under wise governance. Yet none of these gains, even combined, could compare in magnitude or stability to the tremendous sea power that England secured, which had begun its rise during the War of the League of Augsburg and was solidified during the War of the Spanish Succession. This established England's control over global trade with a military shipping force unmatched by any rival—especially while other nations were worn down and had no capacity to challenge her. Although her Indian empire was still in the future, her navy's overwhelming superiority would allow her to control other nations' routes to those rich, distant areas and assert her influence in any disputes arising from trade stations of various nationalities. The commerce that had kept her prosperous and her allies militarily capable during the war faced setbacks from enemy cruisers, but it rebounded with vigor once the fighting ceased. Around the world, exhausted from shared hardships, people were eager for the return of prosperity and peaceful trade, and no country was better positioned than England, with its wealth, capital, and shipping, to take advantage of every business opportunity, whether legitimate or not. Throughout the War of the Spanish Succession, through her own savvy management and the exhaustion of her rivals, England not only built up her navy but expanded her trade. In those treacherous sea conditions populated by some of the most daring and aggressive French cruisers ever sent out, a capable navy meant safer voyages, thus leading to more opportunities for merchant ships. British merchant vessels, being better protected than their Dutch counterparts, earned a reputation for being much safer carriers, resulting in a notable shift of the carrying trade into their hands; once this practice became established, it was likely to persist.
"Taking all things together," says an historian of the British navy, "I doubt whether the credit of the English nation ever [225]stood higher than at this period, or the spirit of the people higher. The success of our arms at sea, the necessity of protecting our trade, and the popularity of every step taken to increase our maritime power, occasioned such measures to be pursued as annually added to our force. Hence arose that mighty difference which at the close of the year 1706 appeared in the Royal Navy; this, not only in the number but in the quality of the ships, was much superior to what it had been at the time of the Revolution or even before. Hence it was that our trade rather increased than diminished during the last war, and that we gained so signally by our strict intercourse with Portugal."[77]
"Considering everything," says a historian of the British navy, "I doubt the reputation of the English nation has ever been higher than it was during this period, or the spirit of the people more elevated. The success of our military operations at sea, the need to protect our trade, and the popularity of every action taken to strengthen our maritime power led to measures that continuously increased our naval force. This resulted in the significant transformation that, by the end of 1706, was evident in the Royal Navy; not only in the number of ships but also in their quality, which was much better than at the time of the Revolution or even earlier. Consequently, our trade grew rather than diminished during the last war, and we significantly benefited from our close relations with Portugal."
The sea power of England therefore was not merely in the great navy, with which we too commonly and exclusively associate it; France had had such a navy in 1688, and it shrivelled away like a leaf in the fire. Neither was it in a prosperous commerce alone; a few years after the date at which we have arrived, the commerce of France took on fair proportions, but the first blast of war swept it off the seas as the navy of Cromwell had once swept that of Holland. It was in the union of the two, carefully fostered, that England made the gain of sea power over and beyond all other States; and this gain is distinctly associated with and dates from the War of the Spanish Succession. Before that war England was one of the sea powers; after it she was the sea power, without any second. This power also she held alone, unshared by friend and unchecked by foe. She alone was rich, and in her control of the sea and her extensive shipping had the sources of wealth so much in her hands that there was no present danger of a rival on the ocean. Thus her gain of sea power and wealth was not only great but solid, being wholly in her own hands; while the gains of the other States were not merely inferior in degree, but weaker in kind, in that they depended more or less upon the good will of other peoples.
The sea power of England wasn’t just about the strong navy we usually think of; France had a similar navy in 1688, but it quickly vanished like a leaf in the fire. It also wasn’t only about successful trade; a few years after the time we’re discussing, France's trade grew significantly, but the first wave of war wiped it off the seas, just like Cromwell’s navy had done to Holland. It was the combination of these two elements, carefully nurtured, that allowed England to gain a significant sea power compared to all other countries; this gain is closely tied to the War of the Spanish Succession. Before that war, England was one of the sea powers; afterward, she was the sea power, with no contenders. She held this power alone, unshared by allies and unchallenged by enemies. She alone was wealthy, and through her control of the sea and extensive shipping, she had so much wealth in her hands that there was no immediate threat of a rival on the ocean. Thus, her increase in sea power and wealth was not only substantial but also secure, entirely in her hands; while the other countries’ gains were not just lesser in amount, but also weaker in nature, as they relied more or less on the goodwill of others.
Is it meant, it may be asked, to attribute to sea power alone the greatness or wealth of any State? Certainly not. The [226]due use and control of the sea is but one link in the chain of exchange by which wealth accumulates; but it is the central link, which lays under contribution other nations for the benefit of the one holding it, and which, history seems to assert, most surely of all gathers to itself riches. In England, this control and use of the sea seems to arise naturally, from the concurrence of many circumstances; the years immediately preceding the War of the Spanish Succession had, moreover, furthered the advance of her prosperity by a series of fiscal measures, which Macaulay speaks of as "the deep and solid foundation on which was to rise the most gigantic fabric of commercial prosperity which the world had ever seen." It may be questioned, however, whether the genius of the people, inclined to and developed by trade, did not make easier the taking of such measures; whether their adoption did not at least partially spring from, as well as add to, the sea power of the nation. However that may be, there is seen, on the opposite side of the Channel, a nation which started ahead of England in the race,—a nation peculiarly well fitted, by situation and resources, for the control of the sea both by war and commerce. The position of France is in this peculiar, that of all the great powers she alone had a free choice; the others were more or less constrained to the land chiefly, or to the sea chiefly, for any movement outside their own borders; but she to her long continental frontier added a seaboard on three seas. In 1672 she definitely chose expansion by land. At that time Colbert had administered her finances for twelve years, and from a state of terrible confusion had so restored them that the revenue of the King of France was more than double that of the King of England. In those days France paid the subsidies of Europe; but Colbert's plans and hopes for France rested upon making her powerful on the sea. The war with Holland arrested these plans, the onward movement of prosperity ceased, the nation was thrown back upon itself, shut off from the outside world. Many causes doubtless worked together to the disastrous result which marked the end of the reign of Louis XIV.: constant wars, bad [227]administration in the latter half of the period, extravagance throughout; but France was practically never invaded, the war was kept at or beyond her own frontiers with slight exceptions, her home industries could suffer little from direct hostilities. In these respects she was nearly equal to England, and under better conditions than her other enemies. What made the difference in the results? Why was France miserable and exhausted, while England was smiling and prosperous? Why did England dictate, and France accept, terms of peace? The reason apparently was the difference in wealth and credit. France stood alone against many enemies; but those enemies were raised and kept moving by English subsidies. The Lord Treasurer of England, writing in 1706 to Marlborough, says:—
Is it fair to say that the greatness or wealth of any state is solely due to sea power? Certainly not. The proper use and control of the sea is just one part of the exchange system that builds wealth; however, it is the key part that benefits the nation in control while also benefiting other nations. History suggests that it is this control that gathers wealth more reliably than anything else. In England, the control of the sea seems to come naturally from a combination of factors; the years leading up to the War of the Spanish Succession boosted her prosperity through a series of financial policies that Macaulay referred to as "the deep and solid foundation on which was to rise the most gigantic fabric of commercial prosperity which the world had ever seen." However, it's worth questioning whether the nation’s trading spirit made those policies easier to implement, and whether the adoption of these measures was influenced by, and contributed to, the country's sea power. On the other side of the Channel, there’s a country that started out ahead of England—a country particularly well-suited, due to its location and resources, for controlling the sea through both warfare and commerce. France’s situation is unique because, unlike other great powers that were relatively restricted to land or sea movements, she had the advantage of a long continental border as well as coastlines on three different seas. In 1672, she made a decisive choice to expand by land. At that time, Colbert had been managing her finances for twelve years, and he had transformed a state of chaos into one where the King of France’s revenue was more than double that of the King of England. Back then, France was the one providing financial support to Europe; however, Colbert’s plans for France focused on making her a powerful maritime nation. The war with Holland disrupted these plans, halting progress and causing the nation to turn inward, effectively isolating it from the outside world. Several factors undoubtedly contributed to the disastrous outcome that marked the end of Louis XIV's reign: constant wars, poor governance during the latter half of that period, and widespread extravagance. Nevertheless, France was hardly ever invaded; the war was fought mostly outside her borders, with few exceptions, meaning her domestic industries hardly suffered from direct attacks. In this sense, she was nearly equal to England, and enjoyed better circumstances than her other foes. So, what caused the difference in outcomes? Why was France struggling and exhausted while England thrived and prospered? Why did England determine the terms of peace while France accepted them? The answer seems to lie in the differences in wealth and credit. France was standing alone against many enemies, but those enemies were sustained and motivated by English funding. The Lord Treasurer of England wrote to Marlborough in 1706, saying:—
"Though the land and trade of both England and Holland have excessive burthens upon them, yet the credit continues good both of them and us; whereas the finances of France are so much more exhausted that they are forced to give twenty and twenty-five per cent for every penny they send out of the kingdom, unless they send it in specie."
"Even though both England and Holland face heavy burdens from their land and trade, their credit remains strong, as does ours. In contrast, France's finances are so drained that they have to pay twenty to twenty-five percent for every penny they send out of the country, unless they send it in cash."
In 1712 the expenditure of France was 240,000,000 francs, while the taxes brought in only 113,000,000 gross, of which, after deducting losses and necessary expenses, only 37,000,000 remained in the treasury; the deficit was sought to be met by anticipating parts of the revenue for years ahead, and by a series of extraordinary transactions tedious to name or to understand.
In 1712, France's spending was 240 million francs, but taxes only generated 113 million gross. After accounting for losses and necessary expenses, only 37 million was left in the treasury. They tried to cover the deficit by borrowing against future revenue and through a complicated series of transactions that are hard to name or understand.
"In the summer of 1715 [two years after the peace] it seemed as if the situation could not grow worse,—no more public nor private credit; no more clear revenue for the State; the portions of the revenue not pledged, anticipated on the following years. Neither labor nor consumption could be resumed for want of circulation; usury reigned on the ruins of society. The alternations of high prices and the depreciation of commodities finally crushed the people. Provision riots broke out among them, and even in the army. Manufactures were languishing or suspended; forced mendicity was [228]preying upon the cities. The fields were deserted, the lands fallow for lack of instruments, for lack of manure, for lack of cattle; the houses were falling to ruin. Monarchical France seemed ready to expire with its aged king."[78]
"In the summer of 1715 [two years after the peace], it felt like things couldn't get any worse—no public or private credit; no clear revenue for the State; the parts of the revenue that weren't pledged were already spent in advance for the following years. Neither work nor consumption could pick up again due to a lack of money flow; lending at high interest thrived amidst the ruins of society. The fluctuations of rising prices and the declining value of goods ultimately crushed the people. Food riots erupted among the population and even within the army. Factories were struggling or shut down; forced begging was taking over the cities. The fields were abandoned, the land left unused due to a shortage of tools, fertilizers, and livestock; the houses were falling apart. Monarchical France seemed on the brink of collapse with its elderly king."
Thus it was in France, with a population of nineteen millions at that time to the eight millions of all the British Islands; with a land vastly more fertile and productive; before the great days, too, of coal and iron. "In England, on the contrary, the immense grants of Parliament in 1710 struck the French prodigiously; for while their credit was low, or in a manner quite gone, ours was at its zenith." During that same war "there appeared that mighty spirit among our merchants which enabled them to carry on all their schemes with a vigor that kept a constant circulation of money throughout the kingdom, and afforded such mighty encouragement to all manufactures as has made the remembrance of those times grateful in worse."
Thus it was in France, with a population of nineteen million at that time compared to the eight million in all the British Islands; with land that was far more fertile and productive; and before the great era of coal and iron. "In England, on the other hand, the huge grants from Parliament in 1710 shocked the French immensely; for while their credit was low, or essentially gone, ours was at its peak." During that same war, "there emerged that powerful spirit among our merchants which allowed them to carry out all their plans with a vigor that maintained a constant flow of money throughout the kingdom and provided such significant encouragement to all industries that the memory of those times is appreciated even in worse situations."
"By the treaty with Portugal we were prodigious gainers.... The Portuguese began to feel the comfortable effects of their Brazil gold mines, and the prodigious commerce that followed with us made their good fortune in great measure ours; and so it has been ever since; otherwise I know not how the expenses of the war had been borne.... The running cash in the kingdom increased very considerably, which must be attributed in great measure to our Portuguese trade; and this, as I have made manifest, we owed wholly to our power at sea [which took Portugal from the alliance of the two crowns, and threw her upon the protection of the maritime powers]. Our trade with the Spanish West Indies by way of Cadiz was certainly much interrupted at the beginning of this war; but afterward it was in great measure restored, as well by direct communication with several provinces when under the Archduke, as through Portugal, by which a very great though contraband trade was carried on. We were at the same time very great gainers by our commerce with the Spaniards in the West Indies [also contraband].... Our colonies, though complaining of neglect, grew richer, more populous, and carried their trade farther than in former times.... Our national [229]end with respect to England was in this war particularly in great measure answered,—I mean the destruction of the French power at sea, for, after the battle of Malaga, we hear no more of their great fleets; and though by this the number of their privateers was very much increased, yet the losses of our merchants were far less in the latter than in the former reign.... It is certainly a matter of great satisfaction that ... setting out at first with the sight of so great a naval power as the French king had assembled in 1688, while we struggled under such difficulties, and when we got out of that troublesome war, in 1697, found ourselves loaded with a debt too heavy to be shaken off in the short interval of peace, yet by 1706, instead of seeing the navy of France riding upon our coast, we sent every year a powerful fleet to insult theirs, superior to them not only in the ocean, but in the Mediterranean, forcing them entirely out of that sea by the mere sight of our flag.... By this we not only secured our trade with the Levant, and strengthened our interests with all the Italian princes, but struck the States of Barbary with terror, and awed the Sultan from listening to any proposals from France. Such were the fruits of the increase of our naval power, and of the manner in which it was employed.... Such fleets were necessary; they at once protected our flag and our allies, and attached them to our interest; and, what is of greater importance than all the rest, they established our reputation for maritime force so effectually that we feel even to this day [1740] the happy effects of the fame thus acquired."[79]
"Through the treaty with Portugal, we gained a lot.... The Portuguese were starting to reap the rewards of their gold mines in Brazil, and their booming trade with us significantly benefited our fortunes as well; this has been true ever since. Otherwise, I don't know how we would have managed the costs of the war.... The cash flow in the kingdom increased quite a bit, largely thanks to our trade with Portugal; as I have demonstrated, this was entirely due to our naval power [which shifted Portugal from the alliance of the two crowns and brought them under the protection of maritime powers]. Our trade with the Spanish West Indies through Cadiz was definitely disrupted at the beginning of this war; however, it was largely restored, both through direct communication with several provinces when they were under the Archduke and through Portugal, where a significant but illicit trade occurred. At the same time, we benefited greatly from trading with the Spaniards in the West Indies [also illegally].... Our colonies, despite complaining of neglect, became wealthier, more populous, and expanded their trade further than before.... Our national [229]end regarding England was largely fulfilled during this war,—specifically, the weakening of French naval power, as after the Battle of Malaga, we heard no more about their large fleets; and although this led to a significant increase in their privateers, our merchants faced far fewer losses compared to the previous reign.... It’s definitely satisfying that... starting out with such a formidable naval power as the French king had gathered in 1688, while we were in such difficult circumstances, and after emerging from that troublesome war in 1697 still burdened with an overwhelming debt, by 1706 we found ourselves not seeing the French navy threatening our shores, but instead sending out a strong fleet each year to challenge theirs, superior in both the ocean and the Mediterranean, forcing them out of that sea merely by displaying our flag.... This not only secured our trade with the Levant and strengthened our ties with all the Italian princes, but also instilled fear in the States of Barbary and deterred the Sultan from considering any proposals from France. Such were the outcomes of the growth of our naval power and how it was utilized.... Those fleets were essential; they protected our flag and our allies, and strengthened their allegiance to our interests; more importantly, they established our reputation for naval strength so effectively that we still feel the positive effects of that fame today [1740]."[79]
It is needless to add more. Thus stood the Power of the Seas during the years in which the French historians tell us that their cruisers were battening on her commerce. The English writer admits heavy losses. In 1707, that is, in the space of five years, the returns, according to the report of a committee of the House of Lords, "show that since the beginning of the war England had lost 30 ships-of-war and 1146 merchant-ships, of which 300 were retaken; whereas we had taken from them, or destroyed, 80 ships-of-war, and 1346 merchantmen; 175 privateers also were taken." The greater number of the ships-of-war were probably on private venture, as has been explained. But, be the relative [230]numbers what they may, no argument is needed beyond the statements just given, to show the inability of a mere cruising warfare, not based upon large fleets, to break down a great sea power. Jean Bart died in 1702; but in Forbin, Du Casse, and others, and above all in Duguay-Trouin, he left worthy successors, the equals of any commerce-destroyers the world has ever seen.
It’s unnecessary to elaborate further. This was the state of naval power during the years when French historians report that their cruisers were thriving off British trade. The English writer acknowledges significant losses. In 1707, over the course of five years, the records from a committee of the House of Lords indicate, "show that since the beginning of the war England had lost 30 warships and 1,146 merchant ships, of which 300 were recaptured; whereas we had taken from them, or destroyed, 80 warships and 1,346 merchant ships; 175 privateers were also captured." Most of the warships were likely on private ventures, as previously noted. However, regardless of the exact numbers, no further argument is needed beyond what has just been stated to demonstrate that a simple cruising strategy, not supported by large fleets, cannot undermine a significant naval power. Jean Bart passed away in 1702; but in Forbin, Du Casse, and others, especially in Duguay-Trouin, he left behind worthy successors, comparable to any commerce-destroyers the world has ever known.
The name of Duguay-Trouin suggests the mention, before finally leaving the War of the Spanish Succession, of his greatest privateering expedition, carried to a distance from home rarely reached by the seamen of his occupation, and which illustrates curiously the spirit of such enterprises in that day, and the shifts to which the French government was reduced. A small French squadron had attacked Rio Janeiro in 1710, but being repulsed, had lost some prisoners, who were said to have been put to death. Duguay-Trouin sought permission to avenge the insult to France. The king, consenting, advanced the ships and furnished the crews; and a regular contract was drawn up between the king on the one hand and the company employing Duguay-Trouin on the other, stipulating the expenses to be borne and supplies furnished on either hand; among which we find the odd, business-like provision that for every one of the troops embarked who shall die, be killed, or desert during the cruise, the company should pay a forfeit of thirty francs. The king was to receive one fifth of the net profits, and was to bear the loss of any one of the vessels that should be wrecked, or destroyed in action. Under these provisions, enumerated in full in a long contract, Duguay-Trouin received a force of six ships-of-the-line, seven frigates, and over two thousand troops, with which he sailed to Rio Janeiro in 1711; captured the place after a series of operations, and allowed it to be ransomed at the price of something under four hundred thousand dollars, probably nearly equal to a million in the present day, besides five hundred cases of sugar. The privateering company cleared about ninety-two per cent on their venture. As two of the ships-of-the-line were never heard from after [231]sailing on the return voyage, the king's profits were probably small.
The name Duguay-Trouin brings to mind, before we leave the War of the Spanish Succession, his most notable privateering mission, one that ventured farther from home than most sailors in his field would typically go, showcasing the adventurous spirit of such endeavors at the time, as well as the lengths the French government would go to. A small French squadron had attacked Rio de Janeiro in 1710 but was repelled, losing some prisoners who were reported to have been executed. Duguay-Trouin requested permission to retaliate for this insult to France. The king agreed, provided the ships and crews, and a formal contract was established between him and the company hiring Duguay-Trouin, detailing the costs and supplies to be covered by each party. Among the unusual, businesslike terms was a provision that for every troop member who died, was killed, or deserted during the mission, the company would owe a penalty of thirty francs. The king was to receive one-fifth of the net profits and would absorb the loss of any vessel that was wrecked or destroyed in battle. Under these detailed conditions laid out in a lengthy contract, Duguay-Trouin was given a fleet of six ships-of-the-line, seven frigates, and over two thousand troops, which he used to sail to Rio de Janeiro in 1711. After a series of operations, he captured the city and allowed it to be ransomed for just under four hundred thousand dollars, roughly equivalent to about a million today, along with five hundred cases of sugar. The privateering company made about ninety-two percent profit on their investment. However, since two of the ships-of-the-line were never seen again after leaving on the return journey, the king's profits were likely minimal.
While the War of the Spanish Succession was engaging all western Europe, a strife which might have had a profound influence upon its issue was going on in the east. Sweden and Russia were at war, the Hungarians had revolted against Austria, and Turkey was finally drawn in, though not till the end of the year 1710. Had Turkey helped the Hungarians, she would have made a powerful diversion, not for the first time in history, in favor of France. The English historian suggests that she was deterred by fear of the English fleet; at all events she did not move, and Hungary was reduced to obedience. The war between Sweden and Russia was to result in the preponderance of the latter upon the Baltic, the subsidence of Sweden, the old ally of France, into a second-rate State, and the entrance of Russia definitively into European politics.
While the War of the Spanish Succession was unfolding across western Europe, a conflict that could have significantly affected its outcome was occurring in the east. Sweden and Russia were at war, the Hungarians had risen up against Austria, and Turkey eventually got involved, but not until the end of 1710. If Turkey had supported the Hungarians, it would have created a major distraction, as it had done before, favoring France. The English historian suggests she was held back by the threat of the English fleet; in any case, she did not take action, and Hungary was forced into submission. The war between Sweden and Russia would lead to Russia's dominance in the Baltic, the decline of Sweden, which had been France's old ally, into a second-rate power, and Russia's definitive entry into European politics.
FOOTNOTES:
[75] Martin: History of France.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Martin: History of France.
[78] Martin: History of France.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Martin: History of France.
[79] Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
CHAPTER VI.ToC
The Regency in France.—Alberoni in Spain.—Policies of Walpole and Fleuri.—War of the Polish Succession.—English Contraband Trade in Spanish America.—Great Britain declares War against Spain.—1715-1739.
The Regency in France.—Alberoni in Spain.—Policies of Walpole and Fleuri.—War of the Polish Succession.—English Contraband Trade in Spanish America.—Great Britain declares War against Spain.—1715-1739.
The Peace of Utrecht was soon followed by the deaths of the rulers of the two countries which had played the foremost part in the War of the Spanish Succession. Queen Anne died August 1, 1714; Louis XIV. on the 1st of September, 1715.
The Peace of Utrecht was quickly followed by the deaths of the leaders of the two countries that had played the biggest roles in the War of the Spanish Succession. Queen Anne died on August 1, 1714; Louis XIV died on September 1, 1715.
The successor to the English throne, the German George I., though undoubtedly the choice of the English people, was far from being their favorite, and was rather endured as a necessary evil, giving them a Protestant instead of a Roman Catholic king. Along with the coldness and dislike of his own partisans, he found a very considerable body of disaffected men, who wished to see the son of James II. on the throne. There was therefore a lack of solidity, more apparent than real, but still real, in his position. In France, on the contrary, the succession to the throne was undisputed; but the heir was a child of five years, and there was much jealousy as to the possession of the regency, a power more absolute than that of the King of England. The regency was obtained and exercised by the next in succession to the throne, Philip, Duke of Orleans; but he had to apprehend, not only attempts on the part of rivals in France to shake his hold, but also the active enmity of the Bourbon king of Spain, Philip V.,—an enmity which seems to have dated from an intrigue of Orleans, during the late war, to supplant Philip on the Spanish throne. There was therefore [233]a feeling of instability, of apprehension, in the governments of England and France, which influenced the policy of both. As regards the relations of France and Spain, the mutual hatred of the actual rulers stood for a while in the way of the friendly accord Louis XIV. had hoped from family ties, and was injurious to the true interests of both nations.
The successor to the English throne, the German George I, was definitely the choice of the English people but was far from their favorite; he was more of a necessary evil, providing them with a Protestant king instead of a Roman Catholic one. Along with the coldness and dislike from his own supporters, he faced a significant group of discontented individuals who wanted to see the son of James II on the throne. This created a lack of stability in his position, which was more apparent than real, but still genuine. In France, on the other hand, the succession to the throne was undisputed; however, the heir was just a five-year-old child, leading to a lot of jealousy over who would have control of the regency, a power more absolute than that of the King of England. The regency was won and held by the next in line, Philip, Duke of Orleans; but he had to be wary of not just rivals within France trying to undermine him, but also the active hostility from the Bourbon king of Spain, Philip V. This animosity seemed to stem from an intrigue involving Orleans during the recent war, aimed at usurping Philip on the Spanish throne. Consequently, there was a sense of instability and apprehension in the governments of England and France, which affected the policies of both. Regarding the relations between France and Spain, the mutual hatred between the current rulers temporarily hindered the friendly agreement Louis XIV had hoped to achieve through family ties, ultimately harming the true interests of both countries.
The Regent Orleans, under the advice of the most able and celebrated French statesman of that day, the Abbé Dubois, made overtures of alliance to the King of Great Britain. He began first by commercial concessions of the kind generally acceptable to the English, forbidding French shipping to trade to the South Seas under penalty of death, and lowering the duties on the importation of English coal. England at first received these advances warily; but the regent would not be discouraged, and offered, further, to compel the Pretender, James III., to withdraw beyond the Alps. He also undertook to fill up the port at Mardyck, a new excavation by which the French government was trying to indemnify itself for the loss of Dunkirk. These concessions, all of which but one, it will be noted, were at the expense of the sea power or commercial interests of France, induced England to sign a treaty by which the two countries mutually guaranteed the execution of the treaties of Utrecht as far as their respective interests were concerned; especially the clause by which the House of Orleans was to succeed to the French throne, if Louis XV. died childless. The Protestant succession in England was likewise guaranteed. Holland, exhausted by the war, was unwilling to enter upon new engagements, but was at last brought over to this by the remission of certain dues on her merchandise entering France. The treaty, signed in January, 1717, was known as the Triple Alliance, and bound France to England for some years to come.
The Regent Orleans, following the advice of the most skilled and well-known French statesman of the time, Abbé Dubois, reached out to the King of Great Britain for an alliance. He started with commercial compromises that would typically appeal to the English, such as banning French ships from trading in the South Seas under threat of death and reducing the import duties on English coal. At first, England approached these advances cautiously, but the regent remained determined. He also offered to force the Pretender, James III, to retreat beyond the Alps. Additionally, he promised to fill in the port at Mardyck, a new project the French government initiated to compensate for the loss of Dunkirk. Most of these concessions, except one, came at the cost of France’s sea power or commercial interests, which led England to sign a treaty that mutually guaranteed the implementation of the treaties of Utrecht in accordance with their respective interests—particularly the clause establishing that the House of Orleans would inherit the French throne if Louis XV died without children. The Protestant succession in England was also guaranteed. Holland, weary from the war, was initially hesitant to take on new commitments but eventually agreed after certain duties on its goods entering France were waived. The treaty, signed in January 1717, became known as the Triple Alliance and linked France to England for several years to come.
While France was thus making overtures to England, Spain, under the guidance of another able churchman, was seeking the same alliance and at the same time developing her national strength with the hope of recovering her lost Italian States. The new minister, Cardinal Alberoni, promised [234]Philip V. to put him in a position to reconquer Sicily and Naples, if granted five years of peace. He worked hard to bring up the revenues, rebuild the navy, and re-establish the army, while at the same time promoting manufactures, commerce, and shipping, and the advance made in all these was remarkable; but the more legitimate ambition of Spain to recover her lost possessions, and with them to establish her power in the Mediterranean, so grievously wounded by the loss of Gibraltar, was hampered by the ill-timed purpose of Philip to overthrow the regency of Orleans in France. Alberoni was compelled to alienate France, whose sea power, as well as that of Spain, was concerned in seeing Sicily in friendly hands, and, instead of that natural ally, had to conciliate the maritime powers, England and Holland. This he also sought to do by commercial concessions; promising promptly to put the English in possession of the privileges granted at Utrecht, concerning which Spain had so far delayed. In return, he asked favorable action from them in Italy. George I., who was at heart German, received coldly advances which were unfriendly to the German emperor in his Italian dominions; and Alberoni, offended, withdrew them. The Triple Alliance, by guaranteeing the existing arrangement of succession to the French throne, gave further offence to Philip V., who dreamed of asserting his own claim. The result of all these negotiations was to bind England and France together against Spain,—a blind policy for the two Bourbon kingdoms.
While France was reaching out to England, Spain, led by another skilled churchman, was looking for the same alliance and simultaneously strengthening her national power in hopes of reclaiming her lost Italian territories. The new minister, Cardinal Alberoni, assured Philip V. that he could help him reconquer Sicily and Naples if he was granted five years of peace. He worked diligently to increase revenue, rebuild the navy, and re-establish the army while also promoting manufacturing, trade, and shipping, and the progress in all these areas was impressive. However, Spain’s legitimate desire to regain her lost territories and reestablish her influence in the Mediterranean, deeply affected by the loss of Gibraltar, was hindered by Philip's poorly timed plan to topple the regency of Orleans in France. Alberoni was forced to distance himself from France, whose naval power, like that of Spain, was invested in seeing Sicily in friendly hands. Instead of having that natural ally, he had to seek the favor of the maritime powers, England and Holland. He attempted to do this through trade concessions, promptly promising to grant the English the privileges established at Utrecht, which Spain had so far delayed. In return, he sought their support in Italy. George I., who was fundamentally German, received the advances coolly as they were unfavorable to the German emperor in his Italian territories, leading Alberoni to withdraw his proposals in frustration. The Triple Alliance, by securing the current order of succession to the French throne, further antagonized Philip V., who aspired to assert his own claim. The outcome of all these discussions effectively united England and France against Spain—a shortsighted strategy for the two Bourbon kingdoms.
The gist of the situation created by these different aims and feelings, was that the Emperor of Austria and the King of Spain both wanted Sicily, which at Utrecht had been given to the Duke of Savoy; and that France and England both wished for peace in western Europe, because war would give an opportunity to the malcontents in either kingdom. The position of George, however, being more secure than that of Orleans, the policy of the latter tended to yield to that of the former, and this tendency was increased by the active ill-will of the King of Spain. George, as a German, [235]wished the emperor's success; and the English statesmen naturally preferred to see Sicily in the hands of their late ally and well-assured friend rather than in Spain's. France, contrary to her true policy, but under the urgency of the regent's position, entertained the same views, and it was proposed to modify the Treaty of Utrecht by transferring Sicily from Savoy to Austria, giving the former Sardinia instead. It was necessary, however, to consider Spain, which under Alberoni had already gained a degree of military power astounding to those who had known her weakness during the last war. She was not yet ready to fight, for only half of the five years asked by the cardinal had passed; but still less was she ready to forego her ambitions. A trifling incident precipitated an outbreak. A high Spanish official, travelling from Rome to Spain by land, and so passing through the Italian States of the emperor, was arrested as a rebellious subject by order of the latter, who still styled himself King of Spain. At this insult, Alberoni could not hold Philip back. An expedition of twelve ships of war and eighty-six hundred soldiers was sent against Sardinia, the transfer to Savoy not having yet taken effect, and reduced the island in a few months. This happened in 1717.
The essence of the situation created by these different goals and emotions was that the Emperor of Austria and the King of Spain both wanted Sicily, which had been given to the Duke of Savoy at Utrecht. Meanwhile, France and England both wanted peace in Western Europe, as war would give the discontented in either kingdom a chance to stir things up. George's position, however, was more secure than Orleans’s, so Orleans's strategy ended up aligning with George's, especially with the King of Spain's active hostility. George, being German, wished for the emperor's success, and the English leaders preferred to see Sicily in the hands of their former ally and trusted friend rather than Spain. France, in contrast to its true policy but under the regent's pressure, shared the same views, and it was suggested to revise the Treaty of Utrecht by transferring Sicily from Savoy to Austria, giving Savoy Sardinia instead. However, it was essential to consider Spain, which, under Alberoni, had gained a level of military strength surprising to those who remembered her weakness during the last war. She wasn't fully prepared to fight yet, as only half of the five years requested by the cardinal had passed; yet she was certainly not willing to give up her ambitions. A minor incident triggered a confrontation. A senior Spanish official traveling from Rome to Spain by land, passing through the Italian states of the emperor, was arrested as a rebellious subject by the latter, who still called himself King of Spain. At this slight, Alberoni could not restrain Philip. An expedition of twelve warships and 8,600 soldiers was dispatched against Sardinia, with the transfer to Savoy not yet completed, and they took control of the island in a few months. This occurred in 1717.
Doubtless the Spaniards would at once have moved on against Sicily; but France and England now intervened more actively to prevent the general war that seemed threatening. England sent a fleet to the Mediterranean, and negotiations began at Paris, Vienna, and Madrid. The outcome of these conferences was an agreement between England and France to effect the exchange of Sardinia and Sicily just mentioned, recompensing Spain by giving her Parma and Tuscany in northern Italy, and stipulating that the emperor should renounce forever his absurd but irritating claim to the Spanish crown. This arrangement was to be enforced by arms, if necessary. The emperor at first refused consent; but the increasing greatness of Alberoni's preparations at last decided him to accept so advantageous an offer, and the accession of Holland to the compact gave it the historical [236]title of the Quadruple Alliance. Spain was obstinate; and it is significant of Alberoni's achievements in developing her power, and the eagerness, not to say anxiety, of George I., that the offer was made to purchase her consent by ceding Gibraltar. If the Regent Orleans knew this, it would partly justify his forwarding the negotiations.
Surely the Spaniards would have immediately advanced against Sicily; however, France and England stepped in more actively to prevent the looming general war. England dispatched a fleet to the Mediterranean, and talks began in Paris, Vienna, and Madrid. The result of these discussions was an agreement between England and France to swap Sardinia and Sicily as mentioned earlier, compensating Spain with Parma and Tuscany in northern Italy, and requiring the emperor to permanently give up his ridiculous yet annoying claim to the Spanish crown. This arrangement was to be enforced by military force if needed. The emperor initially refused to agree; however, the growing strength of Alberoni's preparations ultimately led him to accept such a beneficial offer, and Holland's joining the agreement gave it the historical [236] title of the Quadruple Alliance. Spain was stubborn; and it highlights Alberoni's success in strengthening her power, and the eagerness, if not anxiety, of George I, that an offer was made to gain her consent by giving up Gibraltar. If Regent Orleans was aware of this, it would somewhat explain his push for the negotiations.
Alberoni tried to back up his military power by diplomatic efforts extending all over Europe. Russia and Sweden were brought together in a project for invading England in the interest of the Stuarts; the signing of the Quadruple Alliance in Holland was delayed by his agents; a conspiracy was started in France against the regent; the Turks were stirred up against the emperor; discontent was fomented throughout Great Britain; and an attempt was made to gain over the Duke of Savoy, outraged by being deprived of Sicily. On the 1st of July, 1718, a Spanish army of thirty thousand troops, escorted by twenty-two ships-of-the-line, appeared at Palermo. The troops of Savoy evacuated the city and pretty nearly the whole island, resistance being concentrated in the citadel of Messina. Anxiety was felt in Naples itself, until the English admiral, Byng,[80] anchored there the day after the investment of Messina. The King of Sicily having now consented to the terms of the Quadruple Alliance, Byng received on board two thousand Austrian troops to be landed at Messina. When he appeared before the place, finding it besieged, he wrote to the Spanish general suggesting a suspension of arms for two months. This was of course refused; so the Austrians were landed again at Reggio, in Italy, and Byng passed through the Straits of Messina to seek the Spanish fleet, which had gone to the southward.
Alberoni tried to support his military power with diplomatic efforts all across Europe. Russia and Sweden were brought together in a plan to invade England for the benefit of the Stuarts; his agents delayed the signing of the Quadruple Alliance in Holland; a conspiracy was launched in France against the regent; the Turks were incited against the emperor; unrest was stirred up throughout Great Britain; and there was an attempt to win over the Duke of Savoy, who was angered by losing Sicily. On July 1, 1718, a Spanish army of thirty thousand troops, escorted by twenty-two warships, arrived in Palermo. The Savoy troops evacuated the city and nearly the entire island, with resistance focused in the citadel of Messina. There was concern in Naples itself until the English admiral, Byng,[80] anchored there the day after the siege of Messina began. The King of Sicily having now agreed to the terms of the Quadruple Alliance, Byng took on board two thousand Austrian troops to land at Messina. When he arrived at the location, finding it under siege, he wrote to the Spanish general suggesting a two-month ceasefire. This was, of course, denied; so the Austrians were landed again at Reggio, in Italy, and Byng went through the Straits of Messina to locate the Spanish fleet, which had moved south.
The engagement which ensued can scarcely be called a battle, and, as is apt to happen in such affairs, when the parties are on the verge of war but war has not actually been declared, there is some doubt as to how far the attack was morally justifiable on the part of the English. It seems pretty sure that Byng was determined beforehand to seize [237]or destroy the Spanish fleet, and that as a military man he was justified by his orders. The Spanish naval officers had not made up their minds to any line of conduct; they were much inferior in numbers, and, as must always be the case, Alberoni's hastily revived navy had not within the same period reached nearly the efficiency of his army. The English approached threateningly near, one or more Spanish ships opened fire, whereupon the English, being to windward, stood down and made an end of them; a few only escaped into Valetta harbor. The Spanish navy was practically annihilated. It is difficult to understand the importance attached by some writers to Byng's action at this time in attacking without regard to the line-of-battle. He had before him a disorderly force, much inferior both in numbers and discipline. His merit seems rather to lie in the readiness to assume a responsibility from which a more scrupulous man might have shrunk; but in this and throughout the campaign he rendered good service to England, whose sea power was again strengthened by the destruction not of an actual but a possible rival, and his services were rewarded by a peerage. In connection with this day's work was written a despatch which has great favor with English historians. One of the senior captains was detached with a division against some escaping ships of the enemy. His report to the admiral ran thus: "Sir,—We have taken or destroyed all the Spanish ships upon this coast, the number as per margin. Respectfully, etc., G. Walton." One English writer makes, and another indorses, the uncalled-for but characteristic fling at the French, that the ships thus thrust into the margin would have filled some pages of a French narration.[81] It may be granted that the so-called "battle" of Cape Passaro did not merit a long description, and Captain Walton possibly felt so; but if all reports of naval transactions were modelled upon his, the writing of naval history would not depend on official papers.
The conflict that followed can hardly be called a battle, and, as often happens in these situations, when the parties are on the brink of war but war hasn't actually been declared, there's some uncertainty about how justified the English attack was. It's fairly certain that Byng was determined from the start to seize or destroy the Spanish fleet, and as a military leader, he was justified by his orders. The Spanish naval officers were undecided about their approach; they were greatly outnumbered, and as always, Alberoni's quickly reassembled navy had not yet matched the effectiveness of his army in such a short time. The English moved in threateningly close, and one or more Spanish ships opened fire, prompting the English, being upwind, to move in and finish them off; only a few managed to escape into Valetta harbor. The Spanish navy was virtually destroyed. It's hard to understand why some writers emphasize Byng's actions at this point for attacking without regard for battle lines. He faced a disorganized force that was significantly weaker in both numbers and discipline. His merit seems to lie more in his willingness to take responsibility that a more cautious person might have avoided; however, throughout the campaign, he provided valuable service to England, whose naval power was bolstered not just by destroying an actual rival but a potential one, and his contributions were rewarded with a peerage. A dispatch connected to this day has become quite popular among English historians. One of the senior captains was assigned to pursue some escaping enemy ships. His report to the admiral read: "Dude,—We have taken or destroyed all the Spanish ships on this coast, the number listed in the margin. Respectfully, etc., G. Walton." One English writer makes, and another endorses, the unnecessary but typical jab at the French, stating that the ships listed in the margin would have filled several pages in a French account. It can be conceded that the so-called "battle" of Cape Passaro didn't deserve an extensive description, and Captain Walton may have felt that way; but if all naval reports were written like his, the writing of naval history wouldn't rely on official documents.
Thus the Spanish navy was struck down on the 11th of [238]August, 1718, off Cape Passaro. This settled the fate of Sicily, if it had been doubtful before. The English fleet cruised round the island, supporting the Austrians and isolating the Spaniards, none of whom were permitted to withdraw before peace was made. Alberoni's diplomatic projects failed one after the other, with a strange fatality. In the following year the French, in pursuance of the terms of the alliance, invaded the north of Spain and destroyed the dock-yards; burning nine large ships on the stocks, besides the materials for seven more, at the instigation of an English attaché accompanying the French headquarters. Thus was completed the destruction of the Spanish navy, which, says an English historian, was ascribed to the maritime jealousy of England. "This was done," wrote the French commander, the Duke of Berwick, a bastard of the house of Stuart, "in order that the English government may be able to show the next Parliament that nothing has been neglected to diminish the navy of Spain." The acts of Sir George Byng, as given by the English naval historian, make yet more manifest the purpose of England at this time. While the city and citadel of Messina were being besieged by the Austrians, English, and Sardinians, a dispute arose as to the possession of the Spanish men-of-war within the mole. Byng, "reflecting within himself that possibly the garrison might capitulate for the safe return of those ships into Spain, which he was determined not to suffer; that on the other hand the right of possession might breed an inconvenient dispute at a critical juncture among the princes concerned, and if it should at length be determined that they did not belong to England it were better they belonged to no one else, proposed to Count de Merci, the Austrian general, to erect a battery and destroy them as they lay."[82] After some demur on the part of the other leaders, this was done. If constant care and watchfulness deserve success, England certainly deserved her sea power; but what shall be said of the folly of France at this time and in this connection?
Thus the Spanish navy was defeated on August 11, 1718, off Cape Passaro. This determined the fate of Sicily if there had been any uncertainty before. The English fleet sailed around the island, backing the Austrians and cutting off the Spaniards, none of whom were allowed to retreat before peace was reached. Alberoni's diplomatic efforts failed one after another, in a strange twist of fate. The following year, the French, following the terms of the alliance, invaded northern Spain and destroyed the shipyards, burning nine large ships that were under construction, along with the materials for seven more, all at the prompting of an English attaché who was at the French headquarters. This completed the destruction of the Spanish navy, which, according to an English historian, was attributed to England's maritime jealousy. "This was done," wrote the French commander, the Duke of Berwick, a bastard of the house of Stuart, "so that the English government can show the next Parliament that nothing has been overlooked to weaken the Spanish navy." The actions of Sir George Byng, as outlined by the English naval historian, further reveal England's intentions at this time. While the city and citadel of Messina were under siege by the Austrians, English, and Sardinians, a disagreement arose over the Spanish warships within the mole. Byng, "thinking to himself that perhaps the garrison might surrender for the safe return of those ships to Spain, which he was determined not to allow; and on the other hand, that the claim of possession might cause an inconvenient dispute at a crucial moment among the princes involved, and if it were eventually decided that they did not belong to England, it would be better for them to belong to no one else," proposed to Count de Merci, the Austrian general, to set up a battery and destroy them as they lay. After some hesitation from the other leaders, this was carried out. If constant care and vigilance deserve success, England surely earned her sea power; but what can be said about the folly of France at this time and in this situation?
[239]The steady stream of reverses, and the hopelessness of contending for distant maritime possessions when without a navy, broke down the resistance of Spain. England and France insisted upon the dismissal of Alberoni, and Philip yielded to the terms of the Quadruple Alliance. The Austrian power, necessarily friendly to England, was thus firmly settled in the central Mediterranean, in Naples and Sicily, as England herself was in Gibraltar and Port Mahon. Sir Robert Walpole, the minister now coming into power in England, failed at a later day to support this favorable conjunction, and so far betrayed the traditional policy of his country. The dominion of the House of Savoy in Sardinia, which then began, has lasted; it is only within our own day that the title King of Sardinia has merged in the broader one of King of Italy.
[239]The constant stream of setbacks, along with the hopelessness of trying to hold onto distant overseas territories without a navy, led to Spain’s capitulation. England and France pushed for the dismissal of Alberoni, and Philip complied with the demands of the Quadruple Alliance. The Austrian influence, which was naturally aligned with England, became firmly established in the central Mediterranean, in Naples and Sicily, just as England was positioned in Gibraltar and Port Mahon. Sir Robert Walpole, the minister now coming into power in England, later failed to support this advantageous situation and, in doing so, went against his country's traditional policy. The rule of the House of Savoy in Sardinia began at this time and has continued; it is only in our own era that the title King of Sardinia has merged into the broader title of King of Italy.
Contemporaneously with and for some time after the short episode of Alberoni's ministry and Spain's ambition, a struggle was going on around the shores of the Baltic which must be mentioned, because it gave rise to another effectual illustration of the sea power of England, manifested alike in the north and south with a slightness of exertion which calls to mind the stories of the tap of a tiger's paw. The long contest between Sweden and Russia was for a moment interrupted in 1718, by negotiations looking to peace and to an alliance between the two for the settlement of the succession in Poland and the restoration of the Stuarts in England. This project, on which had rested many of Alberoni's hopes, was finally stopped by the death in battle of the Swedish king. The war went on; and the czar, seeing the exhaustion of Sweden, purposed its entire subjugation. This destruction of the balance of power in the Baltic, making it a Russian lake, suited neither England nor France; especially the former, whose sea power both for peace and war depended upon the naval stores chiefly drawn from those regions. The two western kingdoms interfered, both by diplomacy, while England besides sent her fleet. Denmark, which was also at war with her traditional enemy Sweden, readily yielded; but [240]Peter the Great chafed heavily under the implied coercion, until at last orders were sent to the English admiral to join his fleet to that of the Swedes and repeat in the Baltic the history of Cape Passaro. The czar in alarm withdrew his fleet. This happened in 1719; but Peter, though baffled, was not yet subdued. The following year the interposition of England was repeated with greater effect, although not in time to save the Swedish coasts from serious injury; but the czar, recognizing the fixed purpose with which he had to deal, and knowing from personal observation and practical experience the efficiency of England's sea power, consented finally to peace. The French claim much for their own diplomacy in this happy result, and say that England supported Sweden feebly; being willing that she should lose her provinces on the eastern shore of the Baltic because Russia, thus brought down to the sea-shore, could more easily open to English trade the vast resources of her interior. This may very possibly be true, and certainty can be felt that British interests, especially as to commerce and sea power, were looked after; but the character of Peter the Great is the guarantee that the argument which weighed most heavily with him was the military efficiency of the British fleet and its ability to move up to his very doors. By this Peace of Nystadt, August 30, 1721, Sweden abandoned Livonia, Esthonia, and other provinces on the east side of the Baltic. This result was inevitable; it was yearly becoming less possible for small States to hold their own.
At the same time as and for a while after the brief period of Alberoni's ministry and Spain's ambitions, there was a struggle happening around the Baltic Sea that needs to be mentioned because it provides another clear example of England's naval power, shown in both the north and south with such minimal effort that it brings to mind tales of a tiger’s soft paw. The long conflict between Sweden and Russia was temporarily paused in 1718 due to negotiations aimed at peace and an alliance for settling the succession in Poland and restoring the Stuarts in England. This plan, which held many of Alberoni's hopes, was ultimately derailed by the Swedish king's death in battle. The war continued, and the czar, noticing Sweden's exhaustion, aimed for its complete subjugation. This shift in the balance of power in the Baltic, turning it into a Russian lake, was unacceptable to both England and France; especially to England, whose naval power, both in peace and war, relied heavily on naval resources mainly sourced from those areas. The two western nations intervened, both through diplomacy, and England also sent her fleet. Denmark, which was also at war with its longtime enemy Sweden, quickly agreed; but [240]Peter the Great felt heavily pressured by this implied coercion, until finally, orders were issued to the English admiral to join forces with the Swedes and replicate the events of Cape Passaro in the Baltic. Alarmed, the czar withdrew his fleet. This occurred in 1719; but Peter, although thwarted, was not yet defeated. The following year, England intervened again with even greater impact, though not in time to protect the Swedish coasts from significant damage. Nevertheless, the czar, recognizing the determined opposition he faced and understanding from firsthand experience the effectiveness of England's naval power, ultimately agreed to peace. The French take considerable credit for their diplomacy in this positive outcome, claiming that England supported Sweden weakly, wishing for her to lose her provinces on the eastern Baltic shore because a Russia brought down to the coast could more easily open up its vast interior resources to English trade. This may very well be true, and it is certain that British interests, particularly regarding commerce and naval power, were well considered; however, Peter the Great's character ensures that the most significant factor influencing him was the military strength of the British fleet and its ability to position itself right at his doorstep. By the Peace of Nystadt, on August 30, 1721, Sweden ceded Livonia, Esthonia, and other provinces on the eastern side of the Baltic. This outcome was inevitable; it was increasingly becoming less feasible for smaller states to maintain their independence.
It can readily be understood that Spain was utterly discontented with the terms wrung from her by the Quadruple Alliance. The twelve years which followed are called years of peace, but the peace was very uncertain, and fraught with elements of future wars. The three great grievances rankling with Spain were—Sicily and Naples in the possession of Austria, Gibraltar and Mahon in the hands of England, and lastly, the vast contraband trade carried on by English merchants and ships in Spanish America. It will be seen that England was the active supporter of all these injuries; [241]England therefore was the special enemy of Spain, but Spain was not the only enemy of England.
It’s clear that Spain was extremely unhappy with the terms imposed on her by the Quadruple Alliance. The twelve years that followed are referred to as years of peace, but that peace was very shaky and full of potential for future conflicts. The three main issues that bothered Spain were: Sicily and Naples controlled by Austria, Gibraltar and Mahon held by England, and the large illegal trade conducted by English merchants and ships in Spanish America. It’s evident that England was the main supporter of all these grievances; [241] so, England was Spain's primary enemy, but Spain was not England's only adversary.
The quiet, such as it was, that succeeded the fall of Alberoni was due mainly to the character and policy of the two ministers of France and England, who agreed in wishing a general peace. The policy and reasons of the French regent are already known. Moved by the same reasons, and to remove an accidental offence taken by England, Dubois obtained for her the further concession from Spain, additional to the commercial advantages granted at Utrecht, of sending a ship every year to trade in the West Indies. It is said that this ship, after being anchored, was kept continually supplied by others, so that fresh cargo came in over one side as fast as the old was sent ashore from the other. Dubois and the regent both died in the latter half of 1723, after an administration of eight years, in which they had reversed the policy of Richelieu by alliance with England and Austria and sacrificing to them the interests of France.
The quiet that followed Alberoni's fall was mostly due to the attitudes and policies of the two ministers from France and England, who were both in favor of achieving general peace. The reasons behind the French regent's stance are already known. Motivated by similar reasons and wanting to settle an unintentional offense caused to England, Dubois secured an additional concession from Spain, on top of the trading benefits granted at Utrecht, allowing for the dispatch of a ship each year to trade in the West Indies. It's said that once this ship was anchored, it was constantly restocked by others, so that new cargo came in on one side as quickly as the old was unloaded on the other. Both Dubois and the regent passed away in the latter half of 1723, after eight years in power, during which they had reversed Richelieu's policies by forming alliances with England and Austria, compromising France's interests for their benefit.
The regency and the nominal government of France passed to another member of the royal family; but the real ruler was Cardinal Fleuri, the preceptor of the young king, who was now thirteen years of age. Efforts to displace the preceptor resulted only in giving him the title, as well as the power, of minister in 1726. At this time Sir Robert Walpole had become prime minister of England, with an influence and power which gave him practically the entire guidance of the policy of the State. The chief wish of both Walpole and Fleuri was peace, above all in western Europe. France and England therefore continued to act together for that purpose, and though they could not entirely stifle every murmur, they were for several years successful in preventing outbreaks. But while the aims of the two ministers were thus agreed, the motives which inspired them were different. Walpole desired peace because of the still unsettled condition of the English succession; for the peaceful growth of English commerce, which he had ever before his eyes; and probably also because his spirit, impatient of equals in the government, shrank from war which [242]would raise up stronger men around him. Fleuri, reasonably secure as to the throne and his own power, wished like Walpole the peaceful development of his country, and shrank from war with the love of repose natural to old age; for he was seventy-three when he took office, and ninety when he laid it down in death. Under his mild administration the prosperity of France revived; the passing traveller could note the change in the face of the country and of the people; yet it may be doubted whether this change was due to the government of the quiet old man, or merely to the natural elasticity of the people, no longer drained by war nor isolated from the rest of the world. French authorities say that agriculture did not revive throughout the country. It is certain, however, that the maritime prosperity of France advanced wonderfully, owing mainly to the removal of commercial restrictions in the years immediately following the death of Louis XIV. The West India islands in particular throve greatly, and their welfare was naturally shared by the home ports that traded with them. The tropical climate of Martinique, Guadeloupe, and Louisiana, and cultivation by slaves, lent themselves readily to the paternal, semi-military government which marks all French colonies, but which produced less happy results in the bitter weather of Canada. In the West Indies, France at this time obtained a decided preponderance over England; the value of the French half of Hayti was alone equal to that of all the English West Indies, and French coffee and sugar were driving those of England out of European markets. A like advantage over England in the Mediterranean and Levant trade is asserted by French historians. At the same time the East India Company was revived, and its French depot, whose name tells its association with the East, the Breton town of L'Orient, quickly became a splendid city. Pondicherry on the Coromandel coast, and Chandernagore on the Ganges, the chief seats of French power and commerce in India, grew rapidly; the Isle of Bourbon and the Isle of France, now the Mauritius, whose position is so well suited for the control of the Indian Ocean, [243]became, the one a rich agricultural colony, the other a powerful naval station. The monopoly of the great company was confined to the trade between home and the chief Indian stations; the traffic throughout the Indian seas was open to private enterprise and grew more rapidly. This great movement, wholly spontaneous, and even looked on with distrust by the government, was personified in two men, Dupleix and La Bourdonnais; who, the former at Chandernagore and the latter at the Isle of France, pointed out and led the way in all these undertakings, which were building up the power and renown of the French in the Eastern seas. The movement was begun which, after making France the rival of England in the Hindustan peninsula, and giving her for a moment the promise of that great empire which has bestowed a new title on the Queen of Great Britain, was destined finally to falter and perish before the sea power of England. The extent of this expansion of French trade, consequent upon peace and the removal of restrictions, and not due in any sense to government protection, is evidenced by the growth of French merchant shipping from only three hundred vessels at the death of Louis XIV., to eighteen hundred, twenty years later. This, a French historian claims, refutes "the deplorable prejudices, born of our misfortunes, that France is not fitted for sea commerce, the only commerce that indefinitely extends the power of a nation with its sphere of activity."[83]
The regency and the nominal government of France shifted to another member of the royal family; however, the true leader was Cardinal Fleury, the tutor of the young king, who was now thirteen years old. Attempts to oust the tutor only resulted in him being given the title and authority of minister in 1726. At that point, Sir Robert Walpole had become the prime minister of England, wielding influence and power that allowed him nearly total control over state policy. Both Walpole and Fleury primarily desired peace, especially in Western Europe. Consequently, France and England continued to collaborate toward that goal, and while they couldn’t entirely silence all dissent, they successfully prevented any major conflicts for several years. But while the goals of the two ministers aligned, their motivations differed. Walpole sought peace due to the unsettled status of the English succession, the need for the peaceful expansion of English commerce—always on his mind—and likely also because his impatient nature did not favor having strong rivals in the government, as war would create stronger opponents around him. Fleury, feeling secure in his position and the throne, shared Walpole's desire for peaceful progress in his country and avoided war, seeking the tranquility that often comes with old age; he was seventy-three when he took office and ninety when he passed away. Under his gentle leadership, France experienced a period of rejuvenation; passersby could observe a change in the land and its people. Still, it’s debatable whether this transformation was a result of the quiet old man's governance or simply the natural resilience of a populace no longer drained by war or isolated from the rest of the world. French officials claim that agriculture didn't improve throughout the country, but it's certainly true that France’s maritime prosperity blossomed, primarily due to the abolishment of trading restrictions in the years following Louis XIV’s death. The West Indies, in particular, thrived, and their prosperity naturally benefited the domestic ports engaged in trade with them. The tropical climates of Martinique, Guadeloupe, and Louisiana, combined with slave labor, suited the paternal, semi-military governance typical of French colonies, though it yielded less favorable outcomes in the harsh climate of Canada. During this time, France gained a clear advantage over England in the West Indies; the value of the French half of Haiti alone was equal to all the English West Indies combined, and French coffee and sugar were pushing their English counterparts out of European markets. French historians also assert similar superiority over England in the Mediterranean and Levant trade. Meanwhile, the East India Company was revitalized, with its French base, whose name signifies its connection to the East, the Breton city of L'Orient, quickly becoming a thriving city. Pondicherry on the Coromandel coast and Chandernagore on the Ganges, the primary centers of French influence and trade in India, grew rapidly; the Isle of Bourbon and the Isle of France, now known as Mauritius, were positioned effectively for control over the Indian Ocean—the former becoming a prosperous agricultural colony and the latter a powerful naval hub. The monopoly of the major company was limited to trade between France and its main Indian stations, while traffic throughout the Indian seas opened up to private enterprise and expanded rapidly. This large-scale growth, entirely spontaneous and even viewed with suspicion by the government, was embodied by two men, Dupleix and La Bourdonnais; the former at Chandernagore and the latter at the Isle of France, paving the way and leading the charge in all these initiatives that bolstered French power and prestige in the Eastern seas. The movement began, which, after establishing France as a rival to England on the Hindustan peninsula and giving her a fleeting chance at that vast empire that would grant a new title to the Queen of Great Britain, was eventually destined to falter and succumb to England’s maritime strength. The extent of this expansion in French trade, resulting from peace and the lifting of restrictions, and not through government support, is evidenced by the increase of French merchant shipping from just three hundred vessels at Louis XIV's death to eighteen hundred twenty years later. A French historian argues that this disproves "the unfortunate prejudices born from our misfortunes, that France is unsuited for maritime commerce, which is the only type of trade capable of indefinitely extending a nation's power with its sphere of activity."[83]
This free and happy movement of the people was far from acceptable to Fleuri, who seems to have seen it with the distrust of a hen that has hatched ducklings. Walpole and himself were agreed to love peace; but Walpole was obliged to reckon with the English people, and these were prompt to resent rivalry upon the sea and in trade, however obtained. Moreover, Fleuri had inherited the unfortunate policy of Louis XIV.; his eyes were fixed on the continent. He did not indeed wish to follow the course of the regency in quarrelling with Spain, but rather to draw near to her; and although he was not able for a time to do so without sacrificing his peace [244]policy, because of Spain's restless enmity to England, yet his mind was chiefly bent upon strengthening the position of France on the land, by establishing Bourbon princes where he could, and drawing them together by family alliances. The navy was allowed to decay more and more. "The French government abandoned the sea at the very moment that the nation, through the activity of private individuals, was making an effort to regain it." The material force fell to fifty-four ships-of-the-line and frigates, mostly in bad condition; and even when war with England had been imminent for five years, France had but forty-five ships-of-the-line to England's ninety. This difference foreshadowed the results which followed a quarter of a century of war.
This free and joyful movement of the people wasn’t acceptable to Fleuri, who viewed it with the suspicion of a hen that has hatched ducklings. He and Walpole both valued peace, but Walpole had to consider the English public, who were quick to react against competition at sea and in trade, no matter how it was achieved. Additionally, Fleuri inherited the unfortunate policies of Louis XIV.; his focus was on the continent. He didn’t want to follow the regency's example of fighting with Spain, but rather to get closer to her. Although he couldn’t do this without compromising his peace policy, due to Spain's ongoing hostility towards England, his main goal was to strengthen France’s position on land by placing Bourbon princes where possible and uniting them through family ties. The navy was left to deteriorate more and more. "The French government abandoned the sea at the very moment that the nation, through the activity of private individuals, was making an effort to regain it." The naval force dwindled to fifty-four ships-of-the-line and frigates, most of them in poor condition; even when war with England seemed likely for five years, France had only forty-five ships-of-the-line compared to England's ninety. This gap foreshadowed the outcomes that followed a quarter of a century of war.
During the same period Walpole, relying upon Fleuri's co-operation, resolutely set his face against open war between England and Spain. The difficulties caused by the threatening and exasperating action of the latter country, and of such allies as she from time to time could raise, were met, and for a while successfully met, by naval demonstrations,—reminders of that sea power which one nation after another had felt and yielded to. In 1725, the Spanish king and the emperor agreed to sink their long-standing feud, and signed a treaty at Vienna, in which there was a secret clause providing that the emperor would support the claim of Spain to Gibraltar and Port Mahon, by arms if necessary. Russia also showed a disposition to join this confederacy. A counter-alliance was formed between England, France, and Prussia; and English fleets were sent, one to the Baltic to awe the czarina, another to the coast of Spain to check that government and protect Gibraltar, and a third to Porto Bello, on the Spanish Main, to blockade the fleet of galleons there assembled, and by cutting off the supplies remind the Spanish king at once of his dependence upon the specie of America, and of England's control of the highway by which it reached him. Walpole's aversion to war was marked by giving the admiral at Porto Bello the strictest orders not to fight, only to blockade; the consequence of which, through the long delay of the squadron [245]upon the sickly coast, was a mortality among the crews that shocked the nation, and led, among other causes, to the minister's overthrow many years later. Between three and four thousand officers and men, including Admiral Hosier himself, died there. Walpole's aim, however, was reached; though Spain made a foolish attack by land upon Gibraltar, the presence of the English fleet assured its supplies and provisions and averted the formal outbreak of war. The emperor withdrew from the alliance, and under English pressure also revoked the charter of an East India company which he had authorized in the Austrian Netherlands, and which took its name from the port of Ostend. English merchants demanded the removal of this competitor, and also of a similar rival established in Denmark; both which concessions the English ministry, backed by Holland, obtained. So long as commerce was not seriously disturbed, Walpole's peace policy, accompanied as it naturally was by years of plenty and general content, was easily maintained, even though Spain continued threatening and arrogant in her demands for Gibraltar; but unfortunately she now entered more deeply upon a course of annoyance to English trade. The concessions of the Asiento, or slave-trade, and of the annual ship to South America have been mentioned; but these privileges were but a part of the English commerce in those regions. The system of Spain with regard to the trade of her colonies was of the narrowest and most exclusive character; but, while attempting to shut them out from foreign traffic, she neglected to provide for their wants herself. The consequence was that a great smuggling or contraband trade arose throughout her American possessions, carried on mainly by the English, who made their lawful traffic by the Asiento and the yearly ship subserve also the unlawful, or at least unauthorized, trade. This system was doubtless advantageous to the great body of the Spanish colonists, and was encouraged by them, while colonial governors connived at it, sometimes for money, sometimes swayed by local public opinion and their own knowledge of the hardships of the case; but there were Spanish subjects [246]who saw their own business injured by the use and abuse of English privileges, and the national government suffered both in pocket and in pride by these evasions of the revenue. It now began to pull the strings tighter. Obsolete regulations were revived and enforced. Words in which the action of Spain in this old controversy have been described are curiously applicable to certain recent disputes to which the United States has been a party. "The letter of the treaty was now followed, though the spirit which dictated it was abandoned. Although English ships still enjoyed the liberty of putting into Spanish harbors for the purpose of refitting and provisioning, yet they were far from enjoying the same advantages of carrying on a friendly and commercial intercourse. They were now watched with a scrupulous jealousy, strictly visited by guarda-costas, and every efficient means adopted to prevent any commerce with the colonies, except what was allowed by the annual ship." If Spain could have confined herself to closer watchfulness and to enforcing in her own waters vexatious customs regulations, not essentially different from those sanctioned by the general commercial ideas of that day, perhaps no further harm would have resulted; but the condition of things and the temper of her government would not let her stop there. It was not possible to guard and effectually seal a sea-coast extending over hundreds of miles, with innumerable inlets; nor would traders and seamen, in pursuit of gain which they had come to consider their right, be deterred by fears of penalties nor consideration for Spanish susceptibilities. The power of Spain was not great enough to enforce on the English ministry any regulation of their shipping, or stoppage of the abuse of the treaty privileges, in face of the feelings of the merchants; and so the weaker State, wronged and harassed, was goaded into the use of wholly unlawful means. Ships-of-war and guarda-costas were instructed, or at least permitted, to stop and search English ships on the high seas, outside of Spanish jurisdiction; and the arrogant Spanish temper, unrestrained by the weak central government, made many of [247]these visits, both the lawful and the unlawful, scenes of insult and even violence. Somewhat similar results, springing from causes not entirely different, have occurred in the relations of Spanish officials to the United States and American merchant-ships in our own day. The stories of these acts of violence coming back to England, coupled with cases of loss by confiscation and by the embarrassment of trade, of course stirred up the people. In 1737 the West India merchants petitioned the House of Commons, saying,—
During the same time, Walpole, with Fleuri's help, strongly opposed open war between England and Spain. The issues created by Spain's threatening actions, along with some of its allies, were confronted, and for a while managed, through naval showings—reminders of the maritime power that one nation after another had felt and submitted to. In 1725, the Spanish king and the emperor decided to end their long feud and signed a treaty in Vienna, which included a secret clause that the emperor would support Spain’s claim to Gibraltar and Port Mahon, even by force if necessary. Russia also showed interest in joining this alliance. In response, a counter-alliance was formed between England, France, and Prussia; English fleets were dispatched, one to the Baltic to intimidate the czarina, another to the Spanish coast to check that government and protect Gibraltar, and a third to Porto Bello, on the Spanish Main, to blockade the fleet of galleons gathered there, reminding the Spanish king of his reliance on American resources and England's control over the route that brought them to him. Walpole's reluctance for war was evident in giving the admiral at Porto Bello strict orders to avoid combat and only blockade; as a result, the prolonged delay of the squadron [245] on the unhealthy coast caused a death toll among the crews that shocked the nation and contributed, among other factors, to the minister's downfall many years later. Between three and four thousand officers and men, including Admiral Hosier, died there. However, Walpole achieved his goal; although Spain foolishly attacked Gibraltar by land, the presence of the English fleet secured its supplies and prevented a formal outbreak of war. The emperor withdrew from the alliance and, under English pressure, also canceled the charter of an East India company he had approved in the Austrian Netherlands, which was named after the port of Ostend. English merchants demanded the removal of this competitor and another similar rival in Denmark; both of these concessions were secured by the English ministry, supported by Holland. As long as trade wasn’t seriously disrupted, Walpole's peace policy, which naturally came with years of prosperity and general satisfaction, was easily maintained, even though Spain continued its threatening and arrogant demands for Gibraltar; unfortunately, it then escalated its interference with English trade. The concessions of the Asiento, or slave trade, and the annual ship to South America were mentioned, but these privileges were just a part of English commerce in those areas. Spain's approach to her colonies' trade was very restrictive and exclusive; while trying to cut them off from foreign trade, she failed to address their needs herself. As a result, a significant smuggling or contraband trade emerged across her American possessions, primarily led by the English, who used their legal trade from the Asiento and the yearly ship to support also the illegal or at least unauthorized trade. This system was likely beneficial for many Spanish colonists and was supported by them, while colonial governors turned a blind eye to it, sometimes for bribes, sometimes swayed by local public opinion and their awareness of the hardships faced; however, some Spanish subjects [246] saw their own businesses hurt by the exploitation of English privileges, and the national government suffered financially and in pride from these revenue evasions. It began to tighten regulations. Old rules were reinstated and enforced. Descriptions of Spain's actions in this old conflict are interestingly relevant to some recent disputes involving the United States. "The letter of the treaty was now followed, although the spirit that inspired it was abandoned. While English ships still had the right to enter Spanish harbors for repairs and supplies, they did not enjoy the same advantages for friendly and commercial interaction. They were now monitored with intense scrutiny, closely inspected by guarda-costas, and every effective measure was taken to prevent any trade with the colonies, except for what was allowed by the annual ship." If Spain had limited herself to increased vigilance and enforcing cumbersome customs regulations in her own waters, which weren’t fundamentally different from the general commercial ideas of that time, perhaps no further harm would have arisen; but the circumstances and the mindset of her government prevented her from stopping there. It was impossible to guard and effectively seal a coastline spanning hundreds of miles, with countless inlets; nor would traders and seamen, in pursuit of profits they had come to see as their right, be deterred by fears of penalties or consideration for Spanish sensitivities. Spain did not have enough power to impose any shipping regulations or stop abuses of the treaty on the English ministry, particularly given the merchants' sentiments; thus, the weaker state, aggrieved and pressured, was pushed to resort to completely unlawful means. Warships and guarda-costas were ordered or at least permitted to stop and search English ships on the high seas, beyond Spanish jurisdiction; and the arrogant Spanish attitude, unchecked by a weak central government, turned many of [247] these encounters, both lawful and unlawful, into scenes of insult and even violence. Somewhat similar outcomes, arising from not entirely different causes, have occurred in the dealings between Spanish officials and the United States and American merchant ships in our time. Reports of these violent acts returning to England, alongside instances of losses from confiscation and trade disruptions, certainly stirred public sentiment. In 1737, West India merchants petitioned the House of Commons, stating,—
"For many years past their ships have not only frequently been stopped and searched, but also forcibly and arbitrarily seized upon the high seas, by Spanish ships fitted out to cruise, under the plausible pretext of guarding their own coasts; that the commanders thereof, with their crews, have been inhumanly treated, and their ships carried into some of the Spanish ports and there condemned with their cargoes, in manifest violation of the treaties subsisting between the two crowns; that the remonstrances of his Majesty's ministers at Madrid receive no attention, and that insults and plunder must soon destroy their trade."
"For many years now, their ships have not only been frequently stopped and searched but also forcibly and arbitrarily seized on the high seas by Spanish ships sent out under the seemingly reasonable excuse of protecting their own coasts. The commanders and their crews have been treated inhumanely, and their ships have been taken into various Spanish ports and condemned along with their cargoes, clearly violating the treaties between the two crowns. The complaints from His Majesty's ministers in Madrid are ignored, and the ongoing insults and theft will soon ruin their trade."
Walpole struggled hard, during the ten years following 1729, to keep off war. In that year a treaty signed at Seville professed to regulate matters, restoring the conditions of trade to what they had been four years before, and providing that six thousand Spanish troops should at once occupy the territory of Tuscany and Parma. Walpole argued with his own people that war would lose them the commercial privileges they already enjoyed in Spanish dominions; while with Spain he carried on constant negotiations, seeking concessions and indemnities that might silence the home clamor. In the midst of this period a war broke out concerning the succession to the Polish throne. The father-in-law of the French king was one claimant; Austria supported his opponent. A common hostility to Austria once more drew France and Spain together, and they were joined by the King of Sardinia, who hoped through this alliance to wrest Milan from Austria and add it to his own territory of Piedmont. The neutrality [248]of England and Holland was secured by a promise not to attack the Austrian Netherlands, the possession of any part of which by France was considered to be dangerous to England's sea power. The allied States declared war against Austria in October, 1733, and their armies entered Italy together; but the Spaniards, intent on their long-cherished projects against Naples and Sicily, left the others and turned southward. The two kingdoms were easily and quickly conquered, the invaders having command of the sea and the favor of the population. The second son of the King of Spain was proclaimed king under the title of Carlos III., and the Bourbon Kingdom of the Two Sicilies thus came into existence. Walpole's aversion to war, leading him to abandon a long-standing ally, thus resulted in the transfer of the central Mediterranean to a control necessarily unfriendly to Great Britain.
Walpole worked hard during the ten years after 1729 to prevent war. That year, a treaty signed in Seville aimed to settle issues, restoring trade conditions to what they had been four years earlier and requiring six thousand Spanish troops to occupy Tuscany and Parma immediately. Walpole argued to his own party that engaging in war would cost them the trade privileges they already held in Spanish territories. At the same time, he engaged in ongoing negotiations with Spain, trying to secure concessions and compensations to quiet domestic unrest. In the midst of this period, a war erupted over the Polish throne succession. The father-in-law of the French king was one of the claimants, while Austria backed his rival. A shared animosity towards Austria once again brought France and Spain together, joined by the King of Sardinia, who hoped this alliance would help him seize Milan from Austria and add it to his territory in Piedmont. The neutrality [248] of England and Holland was guaranteed by a promise not to attack the Austrian Netherlands, since any French possession there was deemed a threat to England's naval power. The allied states declared war on Austria in October 1733, and their armies entered Italy together; however, the Spanish, focused on their long-held ambitions for Naples and Sicily, broke off and headed south. The two kingdoms were swiftly conquered, as the invaders had control of the sea and the support of the local population. The second son of the King of Spain was proclaimed king under the name Carlos III., thus creating the Bourbon Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. Walpole's reluctance to go to war, leading him to abandon a long-time ally, ultimately resulted in the central Mediterranean falling under the control of powers that were unfriendly to Great Britain.
But while Walpole thus forsook the emperor, he was himself betrayed by his friend Fleuri. While making the open alliance with Spain against Austria, the French government agreed to a secret clause directed against England. This engagement ran as follows: "Whenever it seems good to both nations alike, the abuses which have crept into commerce, especially through the English, shall be abolished; and if the English make objection, France will ward off their hostility with all its strength by land and sea." "And this compact was made," as the biographer of Lord Hawke points out, "during a period of intimate and ostentatious alliance with England itself."[84] "Thus the policy against which William III. had called on England and Europe to arm, at last came into existence." Had Walpole known of this secret agreement, it might have seemed to him an additional argument in favor of peace; for, his keen political sagacity warning him of the existence of a danger which he yet could not see, he told the House of Commons that "if the Spaniards had not private encouragement from powers more considerable than themselves, they would never have ventured [249]on the insults and injuries which have been proved at your bar;" and he expressed the opinion that "England was not a match for the French and Spaniards too."
But while Walpole abandoned the emperor, he was betrayed by his friend Fleuri. While forming an open alliance with Spain against Austria, the French government agreed to a secret clause aimed at England. This clause stated: "Whenever it seems good to both nations, the abuses in commerce, especially those brought about by the English, shall be eliminated; and if the English object, France will defend against their hostility with all its strength by land and sea." "And this agreement was made," as the biographer of Lord Hawke points out, "during a time of close and open alliance with England itself." [84] "Thus the policy that William III. had urged England and Europe to prepare against finally came into existence." Had Walpole known about this secret agreement, it might have seemed to him an extra reason for maintaining peace; for, his sharp political insight warning him of an unseen danger, he told the House of Commons that "if the Spaniards didn't have private support from more powerful allies, they would never have dared [249]to commit the insults and injuries presented to you;" and he believed that "England couldn't take on both the French and the Spaniards."
Fleuri had indeed given his old friend and fellow-statesman an ugly fall. The particular question which excited the two years' War of the Polish Succession, the choice of a ruler for a distracted kingdom fated soon to disappear from the list of European States, seems a small matter; but the turn imparted to European politics by the action of the powers engaged gives it a very different importance. France and Austria came to an arrangement in October, 1735, upon terms to which Sardinia and Spain afterward acceded, the principal points of which were as follows: The French claimant to the Polish throne gave up his claim to it, and received instead the duchies of Bar and Lorraine on the east of France, with the provision that upon his death they were to go to his son-in-law, the King of France, in full sovereignty; the two kingdoms of Sicily and Naples were confirmed to the Spanish Bourbon prince, Don Carlos; and Austria received back Parma. The Sardinian monarchy also got an increase to its Italian territory. France thus, under the peace-loving Fleuri, obtained in Bar and Lorraine an accession of strength which more warlike rulers had coveted in vain; and at the same time her external position was fortified at the expense of England, by the transfer of controlling positions in the central Mediterranean to an ally. Yet the heart of Fleuri might well have failed him as he remembered the secret agreement to check the commerce of England, and thought of her mighty sea power alongside of the decayed navy of France. That compact between France and Spain, to which the Two Sicilies acceded later, bore within it, in the then strained relations between England and Spain, the germ of the great wars between England and the House of Bourbon which issued in the creation of the British Empire and the independence of the United States.
Fleuri had indeed caused his old friend and fellow-statesman to take a serious tumble. The specific issue that sparked the two-year War of the Polish Succession—deciding on a ruler for a troubled kingdom that was soon to vanish from the list of European States—might seem trivial; however, the impact it had on European politics due to the actions of the involved powers gave it significant weight. In October 1735, France and Austria reached an agreement that Sardinia and Spain later joined, and the main points were as follows: The French contender for the Polish throne renounced his claim in exchange for the duchies of Bar and Lorraine in eastern France, with the condition that upon his death, they would go to his son-in-law, the King of France, with full sovereignty; the Spanish Bourbon prince, Don Carlos, was confirmed as ruler of the kingdoms of Sicily and Naples; and Austria was restored to control over Parma. The Sardinian monarchy also expanded its Italian territory. Under the peace-loving Fleuri, France gained strength in Bar and Lorraine, something more aggressive rulers had sought in vain; at the same time, her position internationally was strengthened at England's expense, as control in the central Mediterranean shifted to an ally. Yet Fleuri could have felt anxious remembering the secret pact aimed at undermining England's trade and considering England's powerful navy compared to France's weakened fleet. The agreement between France and Spain, which later included the Two Sicilies, contained the seeds for the significant wars between England and the House of Bourbon, ultimately leading to the rise of the British Empire and the independence of the United States.
The clamor in England over Spanish outrages continued, and was carefully nursed by the opposition to Walpole. The [250]minister was now over sixty years of age, and scarcely able to change the settled convictions and policy of his prime. He was face to face with one of those irrepressible conflicts between nations and races toward which a policy of repression and compromise can be employed but for a short time. The English were bent upon opening the West Indies and Spanish America, the Spanish government equally bent upon obstructing them. Unfortunately for their policy of obstruction, they strengthened Walpole's enemies by unlawful search of English ships on the open sea, and possibly also by outrages to English seamen. Some of the latter were brought before the bar of the House of Commons, and testified that they had been not merely plundered, but tortured, shut up in prison, and compelled to live and work under loathsome conditions. The most celebrated case was that of a certain Jenkins, the master of a merchant-brig, who told that a Spanish officer had torn off one of his ears, bidding him carry it to the king his master, and say that if he had been there he would have been served likewise. Being asked what were his feelings at such a moment of danger and suffering, he was said to have replied, "I commended my soul to God and my cause to my country." This well-turned dramatic utterance from the mouth of a man of his class throws a suspicion of high coloring over the whole story; but it can be readily imagined what a capital campaign-cry it would be in the heat of a popular movement. The tide of feeling swept away Walpole's patchwork of compromise, and war was declared against Spain by Great Britain on the 19th of October, 1739. The English ultimatum insisted upon a formal renunciation of the right of search as claimed and exercised by the Spaniards, and upon an express acknowledgment of the British claims in North America. Among these claims was one relating to the limits of Georgia, then a recently established colony, touching the Spanish territory of Florida.
The uproar in England over Spanish abuses continued and was carefully fueled by those opposing Walpole. The [250]minister was now over sixty years old and barely able to change the established beliefs and policies of his leadership. He faced one of those unavoidable conflicts between nations and races where a policy of repression and compromise can only work for so long. The English were determined to open up the West Indies and Spanish America, while the Spanish government was equally intent on blocking them. Unfortunately for their obstructionist policies, they strengthened Walpole's opponents by illegally searching English ships on the open sea, possibly along with mistreatment of English sailors. Some of these sailors were brought before the House of Commons and testified that they had not only been robbed but also tortured, imprisoned, and forced to live and work in terrible conditions. The most famous case was of a man named Jenkins, the captain of a merchant brig, who claimed that a Spanish officer had cut off one of his ears and told him to take it to the king, saying that if he had been there he would have received the same treatment. When asked how he felt during such a moment of danger and suffering, he reportedly replied, "I commended my soul to God and my cause to my country." This well-crafted dramatic statement from someone of his status casts a shadow of exaggeration over the whole story; however, it’s easy to see how it would serve as a powerful rallying cry during a popular uprising. The surge of public sentiment demolished Walpole's haphazard compromises, leading to the declaration of war against Spain by Great Britain on October 19, 1739. The English ultimatum demanded a formal renunciation of the right of search claimed and practiced by the Spaniards, as well as an explicit acknowledgment of British claims in North America. Among these claims was one related to the boundaries of Georgia, then a newly established colony, bordering the Spanish territory of Florida.
How far the war thus urged on and begun by England, against the judgment of her able minister, was morally justifiable has been warmly argued on either side by English [251]writers. The laws of Spain with regard to the trade of her colonies did not differ in spirit from those of England herself as shown by her Navigation Act, and Spanish naval officers found themselves in a position nearly identical with that of Nelson when captain of a frigate in the West Indies half a century later. American ships and merchants then, after the separation from the mother-country, continued the trade which they had enjoyed as colonists; Nelson, zealous for the commercial advantage of England as then understood, undertook to enforce the act, and in so doing found against him the feeling of the West Indians and of the colonial authorities. It does not seem that he or those supporting him searched unlawfully, for the power of England was great enough to protect her shipping interests without using irregular means; whereas Spain between 1730 and 1740, being weak, was tempted, as she has since been, to seize those whom she knew to have injured her wherever she could find them, even outside her lawful jurisdiction.
How justifiable the war initiated by England, against the advice of her capable minister, was, has been passionately debated by English writers on both sides. The laws of Spain regarding the trade of her colonies were not fundamentally different from those of England, as illustrated by her Navigation Act. Spanish naval officers found themselves in a situation almost identical to Nelson's when he was a captain of a frigate in the West Indies half a century later. After separating from the mother country, American ships and merchants continued the trade they enjoyed as colonists. Nelson, eager to advance England's commercial interests as they were understood at the time, attempted to enforce the act, but encountered resistance from the West Indians and the colonial authorities. It doesn't seem that he or his supporters conducted unlawful searches, as England's power was sufficient to protect her shipping interests without resorting to irregular methods; meanwhile, Spain, being weak between 1730 and 1740, was tempted, as she has been since, to apprehend those she knew had wronged her whenever she could find them, even outside her lawful jurisdiction.
After reading the entirely sympathetic presentation of the case of Walpole's opponents, urging war, which is given by Professor Burrows in his Life of Lord Hawke, a foreigner can scarcely fail to conclude that the Spaniards were grievously wronged, according to the rights of the mother-country over colonies as commonly admitted in that day; though no nation could tolerate the right of search as claimed by them. It chiefly concerns our subject to notice that the dispute was radically a maritime question, that it grew out of the uncontrollable impulse of the English people to extend their trade and colonial interests. It is possible that France was acting under a similar impulse, as English writers have asserted; but the character and general policy of Fleuri, as well as the genius of the French people, make this unlikely. There was no Parliament and no opposition to make known popular opinion in the France of that day, and very different estimates of Fleuri's character and administration have found voice since then. The English look rather at the ability which obtained Lorraine for France and the Sicilies for the House [252]of Bourbon, and blame Walpole for being overreached. The French say of Fleuri that "he lived from day to day seeking only to have quiet in his old age. He had stupefied France with opiates, instead of laboring to cure her. He could not even prolong this silent sleep until his own death."[85] When the war broke out between England and Spain, "the latter claimed the advantage of her defensive alliance with France. Fleuri, grievously against his will, was forced to fit out a squadron; he did so in niggardly fashion." This squadron, of twenty-two ships, convoyed to America the Spanish fleet assembled at Ferrol, and the reinforcement prevented the English from attacking.[86] "Still, Fleuri made explanations to Walpole and hoped for compromise,—an ill-founded hope, which had disastrous results for our sea interests, and prevented measures which would have given France, from the beginning of the war, the superiority in eastern seas." But "upon Walpole's overthrow," says another Frenchman, "Fleuri perceived his mistake in letting the navy decay. Its importance had lately struck him. He knew that the kings of Naples and Sardinia forsook the French alliance merely because an English squadron threatened to bombard Naples and Genoa and to bring an army into Italy. For lack of [253]this element of greatness, France silently swallowed the greatest humiliations, and could only complain of the violence of English cruisers, which pillaged our commerce, in violation of the law of nations,"[87] during the years of nominal peace that elapsed between the time when the French fleet was confined to protecting the Spanish against the English and the outbreak of formal war. The explanation of these differing views seems not very hard. The two ministers had tacitly agreed to follow lines which apparently could not cross. France was left free to expand by land, provided she did not excite the jealousy of the English people, and Walpole's own sense of English interests, by rivalry at sea. This course suited Fleuri's views and wishes. The one sought power by sea, the other by land. Which had been wiser, war was to show; for, with Spain as an ally to one party, war had to come, and that on the sea. Neither minister lived to see the result of his policy. Walpole was driven from power in 1742, and died in March, 1745. Fleuri died in office, January 29, 1743.
After reading the fully sympathetic presentation of Walpole's opponents, who were pushing for war, as provided by Professor Burrows in his Life of Lord Hawke, it's hard for an outsider not to conclude that the Spaniards were seriously wronged, according to the rights typically accepted at that time regarding the mother country’s control over its colonies; however, no nation could accept the right of search as claimed by them. It’s important for our topic to point out that the dispute was fundamentally a maritime issue that arose from the unstoppable urge of the English people to expand their trade and colonial interests. It’s possible that France was driven by a similar urge, as English writers have claimed; but the nature and general policies of Fleuri, along with the character of the French people, make this unlikely. There was no Parliament and no opposition to express public opinion in France back then, and varying assessments of Fleuri’s character and administration have been voiced since. The English focus more on the skills that brought Lorraine to France and the Sicilies to the House of Bourbon, blaming Walpole for being outmaneuvered. The French criticize Fleuri by saying, "he lived day to day, just trying to enjoy peace in his old age. He dulled France with opiates, instead of working to revive her. He couldn’t even maintain this quiet slumber until his own death." When the war erupted between England and Spain, "the latter claimed the advantage of its defensive alliance with France. Fleuri, much against his wishes, had to prepare a squadron; he did so with reluctance." This squadron, consisting of twenty-two ships, escorted the Spanish fleet gathered at Ferrol to America, preventing the English from launching an attack. "Still, Fleuri explained things to Walpole and hoped for a compromise—a misguided hope that led to disastrous outcomes for our maritime interests and prevented actions that would have given France, from the start of the war, an advantage in the eastern seas." However, "after Walpole's downfall," says another Frenchman, "Fleuri realized his mistake in allowing the navy to weaken. Its significance recently struck him. He recognized that the kings of Naples and Sardinia abandoned the French alliance simply because an English squad threatened to bomb Naples and Genoa and bring an army into Italy. Lacking this power, France quietly endured significant humiliations and could only complain about the brutality of English cruisers, which looted our trade, violating international law," during the years of nominal peace that passed between when the French fleet was limited to protecting the Spanish from the English and the onset of formal war. The reason for these differing perspectives doesn’t seem too difficult to explain. The two ministers had silently agreed to follow paths that seemingly couldn’t intersect. France was allowed to expand on land as long as it didn’t provoke the jealousy of the English people, while Walpole focused on English interests and rivalries at sea. This approach aligned with Fleuri's views and desires. One sought power at sea, while the other sought it on land. Which strategy was wiser would soon be revealed by war; since Spain was an ally for one side, conflict at sea was inevitable. Neither minister lived to see the results of their policies. Walpole was pushed out of power in 1742 and died in March 1745. Fleuri died in office on January 29, 1743.
FOOTNOTES:
[82] Lives of the Admirals
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Admirals' Lives
[83] Martin: History of France.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Martin: History of France.
[85] Martin: History of France.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Martin: History of France.
[86] The peculiar political relation which France bore toward England between 1739 and 1744, while the latter country was at war with Spain, needs to be explained, as it depended upon views of international duties which are practically obsolete. By her defensive alliance with Spain, France had bound herself to furnish a contingent of specified force to the Spanish fleet when that country was involved in war of a certain kind. She claimed, however, that her sending these succors was not such an act of hostility to England as involved a breach of the peace existing between the two nations. The French ships-of-war, while thus serving with the Spanish fleet under the terms of the treaty, were enemies; but the French nation and all other armed forces of France, on sea and land, were neutrals, with all the privileges of neutrality. Of course England was not bound to accept this view of the matter, and could make the action of France a casus belli; but France claimed it was not justly so, and England practically conceded the claim, though the relation was likely to lead to formal war, as it did in 1744. A few years later the Dutch will be found claiming the same privilege of neutrality toward France while furnishing a large contingent to the Austrian army acting against her.
[86] The unusual political relationship between France and England from 1739 to 1744, while England was at war with Spain, needs clarification, as it was based on ideas about international responsibilities that are mostly outdated now. Through her defensive alliance with Spain, France was committed to provide a specific number of troops to support the Spanish fleet when Spain was involved in a certain type of war. However, France argued that sending these reinforcements wasn’t an act of hostility towards England and didn’t break the peace between the two nations. The French warships, while serving with the Spanish fleet under the treaty terms, were considered enemies; but the French nation and all other military forces of France, both at sea and on land, were neutral, enjoying all the rights of neutrality. Naturally, England wasn’t obligated to accept this perspective and could interpret France's actions as a casus belli; yet France asserted it wasn't justified, and England effectively accepted this assertion, although the situation was likely to escalate into formal war, which it did in 1744. A few years later, the Dutch will also claim the same neutrality towards France while sending a large contingent to the Austrian army opposing her.
CHAPTER VII.ToC
War between Great Britain and Spain, 1739.—War of the Austrian Succession, 1740.—France joins Spain against Great Britain, 1744.—Sea Battles of Matthews, Anson, and Hawke.—Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, 1748.
War between Great Britain and Spain, 1739.—War of the Austrian Succession, 1740.—France allies with Spain against Great Britain, 1744.—Sea Battles of Matthews, Anson, and Hawke.—Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, 1748.
We have now reached the opening of a series of great wars, destined to last with short intervals of peace for nearly half a century, and having, amid many misleading details, one broad characteristic distinguishing them from previous, and from many subsequent, wars. This strife embraced the four quarters of the world, and that not only as side issues here and there, the main struggle being in Europe; for the great questions to be determined by it, concerning the world's history, were the dominion of the sea and the control of distant countries, the possession of colonies, and, dependent upon these, the increase of wealth. Singularly enough it is not till nearly the end of the long contest that great fleets are found engaging, and the struggle transferred to its proper field, the sea. The action of sea power is evident enough, the issue plainly indicated from the beginning; but for a long time there is no naval warfare of any consequence, because the truth is not recognized by the French government. The movement toward colonial extension by France is wholly popular, though illustrated by a few great names; the attitude of the rulers is cold and mistrustful: hence came neglect of the navy, a foregone conclusion of defeat on the main question, and destruction for the time of her sea power.
We have now reached the beginning of a series of major wars, set to last with short breaks of peace for almost fifty years, and characterized, among many misleading details, by one key feature that sets them apart from previous and later wars. This conflict spanned the globe, not just as isolated incidents here and there, with the main battle occurring in Europe; for the significant questions to be decided through it, which would impact world history, were about control of the seas and far-off territories, the acquisition of colonies, and consequently, the increase of wealth. Interestingly, it's not until nearly the end of the lengthy conflict that large fleets engage, moving the struggle to its rightful arena, the sea. The influence of naval power is clear, and the outcome has been evident from the start; however, for a long time, there is little significant naval warfare because the French government fails to acknowledge the truth. The push for colonial expansion by France is generally popular, though represented by only a few prominent figures; the leaders’ attitude is distant and suspicious, leading to neglect of the navy, a predetermined path to defeat on the central issue, and temporary destruction of its naval power.
Such being the character of the coming wars, it is important to realize the relative positions of the three great powers in those quarters of the world, outside of Europe, where the strife was to engage.
Given the nature of the upcoming wars, it's crucial to understand the relative standing of the three major powers in the parts of the world, outside of Europe, where the conflict is set to unfold.
[255]In North America, England now held the thirteen colonies, the original United States, from Maine to Georgia. In these colonies was to be found the highest development of that form of colonization peculiar to England, bodies of free men essentially self-governing and self-dependent, still enthusiastically loyal, and by occupation at once agricultural, commercial, and sea-faring. In the character of their country and its productions, in its long sea-coast and sheltered harbors, and in their own selves, they had all the elements of sea power, which had already received large development. On such a country and such a people the royal navy and army were securely based in the western hemisphere. The English colonists were intensely jealous of the French and Canadians.
[255]In North America, England controlled the thirteen colonies, which were the original United States, stretching from Maine to Georgia. These colonies showcased the highest development of England's unique style of colonization, where groups of free men were largely self-governing and self-sufficient, while still being loyal. Their occupations included agriculture, trade, and seafaring. Thanks to their geography, resources, extensive coastlines, and protected harbors, they possessed all the elements needed for naval power, which had already seen significant growth. The royal navy and army were firmly established in this part of the world based on such a country and its people. The English colonists were fiercely competitive with the French and Canadians.
France held Canada and Louisiana, a name much more extensive in its application then than now, and claimed the entire valley of the Ohio and Mississippi, by right of prior discovery, and as a necessary link between the St. Lawrence and the Gulf of Mexico. There was as yet no adequate occupation of this intermediate country, nor was the claim admitted by England, whose colonists asserted the right to extend indefinitely westward. The strength of the French position was in Canada; the St. Lawrence gave them access to the heart of the country, and though Newfoundland and Nova Scotia had been lost, in Cape Breton Island they still held the key of the gulf and river. Canada had the characteristics of the French colonial system planted in a climate least suited to it. A government paternal, military, and monkish discouraged the development of individual enterprise and of free association for common ends. The colonists abandoned commerce and agriculture, raising only food enough for immediate consumption, and were given to arms and hunting. Their chief traffic was in furs. There was so little mechanical art among them that they bought of the English colonies part of the vessels for their interior navigation. The chief element of strength was the military, arms-bearing character of the population; each man was a soldier.
France possessed Canada and Louisiana, a term much broader in scope back then, and asserted sovereignty over the entire Ohio and Mississippi River valley based on prior discovery, viewing it as a crucial link between the St. Lawrence River and the Gulf of Mexico. At that time, there was not sufficient settlement in this area, nor did England recognize the claim, as its colonists believed they had the right to expand indefinitely westward. The strength of the French presence was centered in Canada; the St. Lawrence River provided them access to the heart of the land, and even though they had lost Newfoundland and Nova Scotia, they still controlled Cape Breton Island, which was key to the gulf and river. Canada reflected the characteristics of the French colonial system, which was ill-suited to its climate. A paternal, military, and religious government hampered the growth of individual initiative and collaborative efforts for shared goals. The colonists turned away from trade and farming, only producing enough food for local needs, and focused on warfare and hunting instead. Their main trade involved furs. There was so little mechanical skill among them that they purchased some boats for their internal navigation from the English colonies. The primary source of strength was the military-oriented, arms-bearing nature of the population; every man was a soldier.
[256]Besides the hostility inherited from the mother-countries, there was a necessary antagonism between two social and political systems, so directly opposed, and lying one alongside the other. The remoteness of Canada from the West Indies, and the inhospitable winter climate, made it, from the naval point of view, of much less value to France than the English colonies to England; besides which the resources and population were greatly inferior. In 1750 the population of Canada was eighty thousand, that of the English colonies twelve hundred thousand. With such disparity of strength and resources, the only chance for Canada lay in the support of the sea power of France, either by direct control of the neighboring seas, or by such powerful diversion elsewhere as would relieve the pressure upon her.
[256]In addition to the hostility inherited from their mother countries, there was a necessary conflict between two social and political systems that were directly opposed and lying right next to each other. The distance from Canada to the West Indies, combined with the harsh winter climate, made it far less valuable to France from a naval perspective compared to the English colonies for England; moreover, Canada’s resources and population were significantly smaller. In 1750, Canada had a population of eighty thousand, while the English colonies had one million two hundred thousand. With such a gap in strength and resources, Canada's only hope rested on the support of France’s naval power, either through direct control of the nearby seas or by creating enough distraction elsewhere to ease the pressure on it.
On the continent of North America, in addition to Mexico and the countries south of it, Spain held Florida; under which name were embraced extensive regions beyond the peninsula, not accurately defined, and having little importance at any period of these long wars.
On the North American continent, besides Mexico and the countries to the south, Spain controlled Florida; this name covered vast areas beyond the peninsula, which were not precisely defined and held little significance during these long wars.
In the West Indies and South America, Spain held mainly what are still known as Spanish American countries, besides Cuba, Porto Rico, and part of Hayti; France had Guadeloupe, Martinique, and the western half of Hayti; England, Jamaica, Barbadoes, and some of the smaller islands. The fertile character of the soil, the commercial productions, and the less rigorous climate would seem to make these islands objects of particular ambition in a colonial war; but as a matter of fact no attempt was made, nor, except as to Jamaica, which Spain wished to recover, was any intention entertained of conquering any of the larger islands. The reason probably was that England, whose sea power made her the principal aggressor, was influenced in the direction of her efforts by the wishes of the great body of Englishmen on the North American continent. The smaller West India islands are singly too small to be strongly held except by a power controlling the sea. They had a twofold value in war: one as offering military positions for such a power: the other a commercial value, either as adding to [257]one's own resources or diminishing those of the enemy. War directed against them may be considered as a war upon commerce, and the islands themselves as ships or convoys loaded with enemy's wealth. They will be found therefore changing hands like counters, and usually restored when peace comes; though the final result was to leave most of them in the hands of England. Nevertheless, the fact of each of the great powers having a share in this focus of commerce drew thither both large fleets and small squadrons, a tendency aided by the unfavorable seasons for military operations on the continent; and in the West Indies took place the greater number of the fleet-actions that illustrated this long series of wars.
In the West Indies and South America, Spain mainly controlled what are still known as Spanish American countries, along with Cuba, Puerto Rico, and part of Haiti; France had Guadeloupe, Martinique, and the western half of Haiti; England held Jamaica, Barbados, and some of the smaller islands. The fertile soil, the commercial products, and the milder climate made these islands particularly coveted in colonial warfare; however, in reality, no attempts were made to conquer any of the larger islands, except for Jamaica, which Spain wanted to reclaim. The likely reason is that England, whose naval power made it the leading aggressor, was influenced by the desires of many Englishmen in North America. The smaller West Indian islands are simply too small to be held strongly except by a power that controls the sea. They had twofold value in war: one as military positions for such a power, and the other as commercial value, either enhancing one's own resources or reducing those of the enemy. War waged against them can be seen as a war on commerce, with the islands themselves acting like ships or convoys loaded with enemy wealth. Thus, they frequently changed hands like tokens and were usually returned when peace was established; though ultimately, most ended up under English control. Still, the fact that each of the major powers had a stake in this commercial hotspot attracted both large fleets and smaller squadrons, a trend encouraged by the unfavorable seasons for military operations on the continent; and the West Indies hosted the majority of the naval battles that characterized this long series of wars.
In yet another remote region was the strife between England and France to be waged, and there, as in North America, finally decided by these wars. In India, the rival nations were represented by their East India companies, who directly administered both government and commerce. Back of them, of course, were the mother-countries; but in immediate contact with the native rulers were the presidents and officers appointed by the companies. At this time the principal settlements of the English were,—on the west coast, Bombay; on the east, Calcutta upon the Ganges, at some distance from the sea, and Madras; while a little south of Madras another town and station, known generally to the English as Fort St. David, though sometimes called Cuddalore, had been established later. The three presidencies of Bombay, Calcutta, and Madras were at this time mutually independent, and responsible only to the Court of Directors in England.
In another remote area, the conflict between England and France unfolded, and just like in North America, it was ultimately settled through these wars. In India, the opposing nations were represented by their East India companies, which directly managed both governance and trade. Behind them were their home countries, but the presidents and officers appointed by the companies were the ones in direct contact with the local rulers. At this time, the main English settlements included—on the west coast, Bombay; on the east, Calcutta on the Ganges, which is located quite a distance from the sea, and Madras; while a bit south of Madras was another town known commonly to the English as Fort St. David, but sometimes referred to as Cuddalore, which was established later. The three presidencies of Bombay, Calcutta, and Madras were independent from one another at this time, each accountable only to the Court of Directors in England.
France was established at Chandernagore, on the Ganges, above Calcutta; at Pondicherry, on the east coast, eighty miles south of Madras; and on the west coast, far to the south of Bombay, she had a third station of inferior importance, called Mahé. The French, however, had a great advantage in the possession of the intermediate station already pointed out in the Indian Ocean, the neighboring islands of France and Bourbon. They were yet more fortunate in the personal character of the two men who were at this time at the head [258]of their affairs in the Indian peninsula and the islands, Dupleix and La Bourdonnais,—men to whom no rivals in ability or force of character had as yet appeared among the English Indian officials. Yet in these two men, whose cordial fellow-working might have ruined the English settlement in India, there appeared again that singular conflict of ideas, that hesitation between the land and the sea as the stay of power, a prophecy of which seems to be contained in the geographical position of France itself. The mind of Dupleix, though not inattentive to commercial interests, was fixed on building up a great empire in which France should rule over a multitude of vassal native princes. In the pursuit of this end he displayed great tact and untiring activity, perhaps also a somewhat soaring and fantastic imagination; but when he met La Bourdonnais, whose simpler and sounder views aimed at sea supremacy, at a dominion based upon free and certain communication with the home country instead of the shifting sands of Eastern intrigues and alliances, discord at once arose. "Naval inferiority," says a French historian who considers Dupleix to have had the higher aims, "was the principal cause that arrested his progress;"[88] but naval superiority was precisely the point at which La Bourdonnais, himself a seaman and the governor of an island, aimed. It may be that with the weakness of Canada, compared to the English colonies, sea power could not there have changed the actual issue; but in the condition of the rival nations in India everything depended upon controlling the sea.
France set up its presence at Chandernagore on the Ganges, north of Calcutta; at Pondicherry on the east coast, eighty miles south of Madras; and on the west coast, far south of Bombay, it had a less important station called Mahé. However, the French had a significant advantage with their intermediate station in the Indian Ocean, the nearby islands of France and Bourbon. They were even luckier with the personal qualities of the two men leading their efforts in the Indian peninsula and the islands, Dupleix and La Bourdonnais—individuals who had no equals in skill or character among the English officials in India. Yet within these two men, whose collaboration could have jeopardized the English settlement in India, there was a strange clash of ideas, a struggle between land and sea as the foundation of power, a tension reflected in the geographical positioning of France itself. Dupleix, while attentive to commercial interests, was focused on establishing a vast empire where France would dominate numerous local princes. In striving for this goal, he demonstrated great skill and relentless energy, perhaps alongside an ambitious and fantastical imagination; but when he collaborated with La Bourdonnais, whose clearer and more practical vision sought naval supremacy based on reliable communication with the homeland rather than the unstable politics of Eastern alliances and intrigues, conflict emerged immediately. "Naval inferiority," notes a French historian who views Dupleix as having loftier goals, "was the main reason that hindered his progress;" but naval superiority was exactly what La Bourdonnais, a seaman and the governor of an island, was striving for. It may be that given Canada’s weakness compared to the English colonies, naval power alone couldn't have changed the situation there; but in the context of the competing nations in India, controlling the sea was everything.
Such were the relative situations of the three countries in the principal foreign theatres of war. No mention has been made of the colonies on the west coast of Africa, because they were mere trading stations having no military importance. The Cape of Good Hope was in possession of the Dutch, who took no active part in the earlier wars, but long maintained toward England a benevolent neutrality, surviving from the alliance in the former wars of the century. It is necessary to mention briefly the condition of the military navies, which [259]were to have an importance as yet unrealized. Neither precise numbers nor an exact account of condition of the ships can be given; but the relative efficiency can be fairly estimated. Campbell, the English contemporary naval historian, says that in 1727 the English navy had eighty-four ships-of-the-line, from sixty guns up; forty 50-gun ships, and fifty-four frigates and smaller vessels. In 1734 this number had fallen to seventy ships-of-the-line and nineteen 50-gun ships. In 1744, after four years of war with Spain alone, the number was ninety ships-of-the-line and eighty-four frigates. The French navy at the same time he estimates at forty-five ships-of-the-line and sixty-seven frigates. In 1747, near the end of the first war, he says that the royal navy of Spain was reduced to twenty-two ships-of-the-line, that of France to thirty-one, while the English had risen to one hundred and twenty-six. The French writers consulted are less precise in their figures, but agree in representing not only that the navy was reduced to a pitiful number of ships, but that these were in bad condition and the dock-yards destitute of materials. This neglect of the navy lasted more or less throughout these wars, until 1760, when the sense of the nation was aroused to the importance of restoring it; too late, however, to prevent the most serious of the French losses. In England as well as in France discipline and administration had been sapped by the long peace; the inefficiency of the armaments sent out was notorious, and recalls the scandals that marked the outbreak of the Crimean War; while the very disappearance of the French ships led, by the necessity of replacing them, to putting afloat vessels superior singly, because more modern and scientific, to the older ships of the same class in England. Care must be had, however, in accepting too easily the complaints of individual writers; French authors will be found asserting that English ships are faster, while at the same period Englishmen complain that they are slower. It may be accepted as generally true that the French ships built between 1740 and 1800 were better designed and larger, class for class, than the English. The latter had the [260]undoubted superiority both in the number and quality of the seamen and officers. Keeping some fleets always afloat, whether better or worse, the officers could not quite lose touch of their profession; whereas in France it is said that not one fifth of the officers were, in 1744, employed. This superiority was kept and increased by the practice, which henceforth obtained, of blockading the French military ports with superior force; the enemy's squadrons when they put to sea found themselves at once at a disadvantage in point of practical skill. On the other hand, large as was the number of English seamen, the demands of commerce were so great that war found them scattered all over the world, and part of the fleet was always paralyzed for lack of crews. This constant employment assured good seamanship, but the absence of so many men had to be supplied by an indiscriminate press, which dragged in a class of miserable and sickly men, sadly diluting the quality of the whole. To realize the condition of ships' companies of that day, it will be necessary only to read the accounts of those sent to Anson starting for a cruise round the world, or to Hawke when fitting out for war service; the statements are now almost incredible, and the results most deplorable. It was not a question of sanitation only; the material sent was entirely unfit to meet the conditions of sea life under the most favorable circumstances. In both the French and English service a great deal of weeding among the officers was necessary. Those were the palmy days of court and political influence; and, moreover, it is not possible, after a long peace, at once to pick out from among the fairest-seeming the men who will best stand the tests of time and exposure to the responsibilities of war. There was in both nations a tendency to depend upon officers who had been in their prime a generation before, and the results were not fortunate.
The three countries' positions in the major foreign theaters of war were as follows. The colonies on the west coast of Africa weren't discussed since they were just trading posts without military significance. The Dutch controlled the Cape of Good Hope, remaining passively neutral towards England during the earlier conflicts, a stance stemming from their former alliances in earlier wars of the century. It's important to briefly touch on the state of the military navies, which [259] would later prove significant. We can't provide exact numbers or detailed conditions of the ships, but we can estimate their relative effectiveness. According to Campbell, an English naval historian, in 1727, the English navy had eighty-four ships-of-the-line, each with sixty guns or more; forty 50-gun ships; and fifty-four frigates and smaller vessels. By 1734, this number had dropped to seventy ships-of-the-line and nineteen 50-gun ships. In 1744, after four years of war exclusively with Spain, the count was back up to ninety ships-of-the-line and eighty-four frigates. At the same time, he estimates the French navy included forty-five ships-of-the-line and sixty-seven frigates. By 1747, near the end of the first war, he noted that Spain's royal navy had dwindled to twenty-two ships-of-the-line and France's to thirty-one, while England’s had grown to one hundred and twenty-six. The French sources consulted are less precise but agree that their navy was reduced to a meager number of ships, which were in poor condition, and their dockyards lacked supplies. This neglect of the navy continued throughout these wars until 1760 when public sentiment finally recognized the need to restore it; unfortunately, it was too late to avoid the significant losses for France. Both England and France saw their discipline and administration weakened by long periods of peace; the inefficiency of their military forces was widely recognized, recalling the scandals that emerged at the beginning of the Crimean War. The decline of French ships created a necessity for better replacements, leading to the commissioning of more modern and scientifically advanced vessels, making them superior individually to older ships of the same class in England. Caution is needed in accepting the complaints of individual writers; French authors often claimed English ships were faster, while English people complained they were slower. It can be generally accepted that the French ships built between 1740 and 1800 had better designs and were larger, class for class, than the English ones. However, the English had an [260]undoubted advantage in both the quantity and quality of their sailors and officers. By keeping some fleets constantly active, regardless of their condition, English officers maintained their connection to their profession; in contrast, it was said that in 1744, less than one-fifth of French officers were actually deployed. This advantage was maintained and grew through the practice of blockading French military ports with superior forces; whenever French squadrons set sail, they found themselves at an immediate disadvantage in terms of practical skill. Conversely, despite the large number of English sailors, the high demand for commerce scattered them worldwide, leaving parts of the fleet consistently short of crews. While this constant engagement ensured good seamanship, the shortage of personnel was often addressed through an indiscriminate press, bringing in a large number of unhealthy individuals, which diminished the overall quality. To understand the state of ship crews during that time, one can look at the accounts of those sent with Anson on his global voyage, or to Hawke when he prepared for military service; these reports are now almost unbelievable, and the results were tragic. It wasn’t just about sanitation; the supplies sent were entirely inadequate for the challenges of life at sea, even under the best conditions. Both the French and English navies needed extensive weeding of their officer ranks. These were times when court politics influenced appointments significantly; and, after a long peace, it was impractical to quickly identify those who would withstand the trials of time and the responsibilities of war. Both nations showed a tendency to rely on officers who had been at their peak a generation earlier, leading to unfortunate outcomes.
War having been declared against Spain by England in October, 1739, the first attempts of the latter power were naturally directed against the Spanish-American colonies, the cause of the dispute, in which it was expected to find an [261]easy and rich prey. The first expedition sailed under Admiral Vernon in November of the same year, and took Porto Bello by a sudden and audacious stroke, but found only the insignificant sum of ten thousand dollars in the port whence the galleons sailed. Returning to Jamaica, Vernon received large reinforcements of ships, and was joined by a land force of twelve thousand troops. With this increased force, attempts were made upon both Cartagena and Santiago de Cuba, in the years 1741 and 1742, but in both wretched failures resulted; the admiral and the general quarrelled, as was not uncommon in days when neither had an intelligent comprehension of the other's business. Marryatt, when characterizing such misunderstandings by a humorous exaggeration, seems to have had in view this attempt on Cartagena: "The army thought that the navy might have beaten down stone ramparts ten feet thick; and the navy wondered why the army had not walked up the same ramparts, which were thirty feet perpendicular."
War was declared against Spain by England in October 1739. Naturally, England's first attempts focused on the Spanish-American colonies, the source of the conflict, where they hoped to find an [261]easy and wealthy target. The first expedition set sail under Admiral Vernon in November of that year and successfully captured Porto Bello with a sudden and bold move, but only found a meager ten thousand dollars in the port from which the galleons departed. After returning to Jamaica, Vernon received significant reinforcements of ships and was joined by a land force of twelve thousand troops. With this larger force, they attempted assaults on both Cartagena and Santiago de Cuba in 1741 and 1742, but both efforts ended in miserable failures; the admiral and the general argued, which was not uncommon at a time when neither truly understood the other's role. Marryatt, while humorously exaggerating such misunderstandings, appears to have had this attempt on Cartagena in mind: "The army thought that the navy could have taken down stone walls ten feet thick; and the navy wondered why the army hadn't just gone over the same walls, which were thirty feet straight up."
Another expedition, justly celebrated for the endurance and perseverance shown by its leader, and famous both for the hardships borne and singular final success, was sent out in 1740 under Anson. Its mission was to pass round Cape Horn and attack the Spanish colonies on the west coast of South America. After many delays, due apparently to bad administration, the squadron finally got away toward the end of 1740. Passing the Cape at the worst season of the year, the ships met a series of tempests of the most violent kind; the squadron was scattered, never all to meet again, and Anson, after infinite peril, succeeded in rallying a part of it at Juan Fernandez. Two ships had put back to England, a third was lost to the southward of Chiloe. With the three left to him he cruised along the South American coast, taking some prizes and pillaging the town of Payta, intending to touch near Panama and join hands with Vernon for the capture of that place and the possession of the isthmus, if possible. Learning of the disaster at Cartagena, he then determined to cross the Pacific and waylay the two galleons [262]that sailed yearly from Acapulco to Manila. In the passage across, one of the two ships now left to him was found in such bad condition that she had to be destroyed. With the other he succeeded in his last undertaking, capturing the great galleon with a million and a half dollars in specie. The expedition, from its many misfortunes, had no military result beyond the terror and consequent embarrassment caused to the Spanish settlements; but its very misfortunes, and the calm persistency which worked out a great success from them all, have given it a well-deserved renown.
Another expedition, celebrated for the endurance and determination of its leader, and known for both the hardships faced and its unique final success, was launched in 1740 under Anson. Its goal was to navigate around Cape Horn and attack the Spanish colonies on the west coast of South America. After many delays, apparently due to poor management, the squadron finally set sail toward the end of 1740. They rounded the Cape during the roughest time of year, facing a series of intense storms; the squadron got scattered, never to regroup entirely, and Anson, after countless dangers, managed to bring part of it together at Juan Fernandez. Two ships had returned to England, and a third was lost to the south of Chiloe. With the three ships remaining, he patrolled the South American coast, capturing some prizes and raiding the town of Payta, with plans to stop near Panama and coordinate with Vernon to capture that location and possibly secure the isthmus. After learning of the disaster at Cartagena, he decided to cross the Pacific and intercept the two galleons [262] that sailed annually from Acapulco to Manila. During the crossing, one of the two remaining ships was found to be in such poor condition that it had to be abandoned. With the other ship, he succeeded in his final mission, capturing the huge galleon carrying one and a half million dollars in cash. Although the expedition faced many misfortunes, resulting in no military victory beyond instilling fear and creating difficulties for the Spanish settlements, its misfortunes and the unwavering persistence that led to a significant success have earned it well-deserved recognition.
During the year 1740 happened two events which led to a general European war breaking in upon that in which Spain and England were already engaged. In May of that year Frederick the Great became king of Prussia, and in October the emperor Charles VI., formerly the Austrian claimant of the Spanish throne, died. He had no son, and left by will the sovereignty of his estates to his eldest daughter, the celebrated Maria Theresa, to secure whose succession the efforts of his diplomacy had been directed for many years. This succession had been guaranteed by the European powers; but the apparent weakness of her position excited the ambitions of other sovereigns. The Elector of Bavaria laid claim to the whole inheritance, in which he was supported by France; while the Prussian king claimed and seized the province of Silesia. Other powers, large and small, threw in their lot with one or the other; while the position of England was complicated by her king being also elector of Hanover, and in that capacity hurriedly contracting an obligation of neutrality for the electorate, although English feeling was strongly in favor of Austria. Meanwhile the failure of the Spanish-American expeditions and the severe losses of English commerce increased the general outcry against Walpole, who resigned early in 1742. England under the new ministry became the open ally of Austria; and Parliament voted not only a subsidy to the empress-queen, but also a body of troops to be sent as auxiliaries to the Austrian Netherlands. At the same time Holland, under English influence, and bound [263]like England by previous treaties to support the succession of Maria Theresa, also voted a subsidy. Here occurs again that curious view of international relations before mentioned. Both of these powers thus entered the war against France, but only as auxiliaries to the empress, not as principals; as nations, except the troops actually in the field, they were considered to be still at peace. Such an equivocal situation could in the end have only one result. On the sea France had already assumed the same position of auxiliary to Spain, in virtue of the defensive alliance between the two kingdoms, while affecting still to be at peace with England; and it is curious to see the gravity with which French writers complain of assaults upon French by English ships, upon the plea that there was no open war between the two States. It has already been mentioned that in 1740 a French squadron supported a division of Spanish ships on their way to America. In 1741, Spain, having now entered the continental war as an enemy of Austria, sent a body of fifteen thousand troops from Barcelona to attack the Austrian possessions in Italy. The English admiral Haddock, in the Mediterranean, sought and found the Spanish fleet; but with it was a division of twelve French sail-of-the-line, whose commander informed Haddock that he was engaged in the same expedition and had orders to fight, if the Spaniards, though formally at war with England, were attacked. As the allies were nearly double his force, the English admiral was obliged to go back to Port Mahon. He was soon after relieved; and the new admiral, Matthews, held at once the two positions of commander-in-chief in the Mediterranean and English minister at Turin, the capital of the King of Sardinia. In the course of the year 1742 an English captain in his fleet, chasing some Spanish galleys, drove them into the French port of St. Tropez, and following them into the harbor burned them, in spite of the so-called neutrality of France. In the same year Matthews sent a division of ships under Commodore Martin to Naples, to compel the Bourbon king to withdraw his contingent of twenty thousand troops serving with the Spanish army in [264]northern Italy against the Austrians. To the attempts to negotiate, Martin replied only by pulling out his watch and giving the government an hour to come to terms. There was nothing for it but submission; and the English fleet left the harbor after a stay of twenty-four hours, having relieved the empress of a dangerous enemy. Henceforward it was evident that the Spanish war in Italy could only be maintained by sending troops through France; England controlled the sea and the action of Naples. These two last incidents, at St. Tropez and Naples, deeply impressed the aged Fleuri, who recognized too late the scope and importance of a well-founded sea power. Causes of complaint were multiplying on both sides, and the moment was fast approaching when both France and England must quit the pretence of being only auxiliaries in the war. Before it came to that, however, the controlling sea power and wealth of England again made itself felt by attaching the King of Sardinia to the Austrian cause. Between the dangers and advantages of the French or English alliance the king's action was determined by a subsidy and the promise of a strong English fleet in the Mediterranean; in return he engaged to enter the war with an army of forty-five thousand men. This compact was signed in September, 1743. In October, Fleuri being now dead, Louis XV. made with Spain a treaty, by which he engaged to declare war against England and Sardinia, and to support the Spanish claims in Italy, as also to Gibraltar, Mahon, and Georgia. Open war was thus near at hand, but the declaration was still deferred. The greatest sea fight that took place occurred while nominal peace yet existed.
In 1740, two events triggered a widespread European war on top of the conflict already happening between Spain and England. In May of that year, Frederick the Great ascended to the throne of Prussia, and in October, Emperor Charles VI., who had previously claimed the Spanish throne for Austria, passed away. He left no son and willed his realms to his eldest daughter, the renowned Maria Theresa, whose succession he had diligently worked to secure through diplomacy for years. Although the European powers had guaranteed her succession, her seemingly weak position sparked the ambitions of other rulers. The Elector of Bavaria claimed the entire inheritance and received support from France, while the Prussian king asserted his claim and took control of the province of Silesia. Other nations, big and small, aligned themselves with one side or the other, while England's position was complicated by the fact that her king was also the elector of Hanover, which hastily entered into a neutrality agreement for the electorate, despite strong British support for Austria. Concurrently, the failures of Spanish-American expeditions and significant losses to English trade intensified the criticism of Walpole, who resigned early in 1742. Under the new government, England openly allied with Austria, with Parliament voting to provide not only a subsidy to the empress-queen but also troops as auxiliaries to the Austrian Netherlands. At the same time, Holland, influenced by England and bound by previous treaties to support Maria Theresa's succession, also approved a subsidy. This again highlights that strange perspective on international relations previously mentioned. Both of these powers entered the war against France only as allies of the empress, not as leading participants; as countries, except for the troops actually fighting, they were still considered at peace. Such an ambiguous situation could only lead to one outcome. At sea, France had already taken the same stance as an ally of Spain due to the defensive alliance between the two nations, while still claiming to be at peace with England; it's interesting to note the seriousness with which French writers complained about attacks on French ships by English vessels, arguing there was no outright war between the two countries. It has been noted that in 1740 a French squadron assisted a group of Spanish ships heading to America. In 1741, as Spain entered the continental war as an enemy of Austria, they dispatched fifteen thousand troops from Barcelona to assault Austrian territories in Italy. English Admiral Haddock, operating in the Mediterranean, sought out the Spanish fleet; however, he encountered a division of twelve French warships. Their commander informed Haddock that they were on the same mission and had orders to fight if the Spaniards, despite being officially at war with England, were attacked. Facing nearly double the opposing forces, Admiral Haddock had no choice but to retreat to Port Mahon. He was soon replaced, and the new admiral, Matthews, held the combined roles of commander-in-chief in the Mediterranean and English minister in Turin, the capital of the King of Sardinia. During 1742, an English captain pursuing some Spanish galleys chased them into the French port of St. Tropez, where he followed them into the harbor and burned them, ignoring France’s claimed neutrality. That same year, Matthews sent a group of ships led by Commodore Martin to Naples to force the Bourbon king to withdraw his twenty thousand troops supporting the Spanish army in northern Italy against the Austrians. When negotiations were attempted, Martin simply pulled out his watch and gave the government an hour to settle things. They had no option but to submit, and the English fleet left the harbor after twenty-four hours, having removed a significant threat to the empress. From then on, it was clear that the Spanish war in Italy could only continue by sending troops through France; England controlled the sea and the actions in Naples. These two incidents, in St. Tropez and Naples, significantly impacted the aging Fleuri, who realized too late the importance of having a strong naval power. Complaints were growing on both sides, and the time was rapidly approaching when France and England could no longer pretend to be just allies in the conflict. However, before that could happen, England's dominant sea power and wealth influenced the King of Sardinia to join the Austrian cause. Torn between the dangers and benefits of aligning with either France or England, the king decided to side with England based on a subsidy and the promise of a robust English fleet in the Mediterranean, agreeing to enter the war with an army of forty-five thousand men. This agreement was signed in September 1743. In October, following Fleuri's death, Louis XV. signed a treaty with Spain, committing to declare war against England and Sardinia, as well as to support Spain's claims in Italy, Gibraltar, Mahon, and Georgia. Open war was thus on the horizon, but the official declaration was still postponed. The largest naval battle occurred while there was still a nominal peace.
In the latter part of 1743 the Infante Philip of Spain had sought to land on the coast of the Genoese Republic, which was unfriendly to the Austrians; but the attempt had been frustrated by the English fleet, and the Spanish ships forced to retreat into Toulon. They lay there for four months, unable to go out on account of the English superiority. In this dilemma the court of Spain applied to Louis XV. and obtained an order for the French fleet, under the command of Admiral [265]de Court,—an old man of eighty years, a veteran of the days of Louis XIV.,—to escort the Spaniards either to the Gulf of Genoa or to their own ports, it does not clearly appear which. The French admiral was ordered not to fire unless he was attacked. In order to secure the best co-operation of the Spaniards, whose efficiency he probably distrusted, De Court proposed, as Ruyter had done in days long gone by, to scatter their ships among his own; but as the Spanish admiral, Navarro, refused, the line-of-battle was formed with nine French ships in the van, in the centre six French and three Spaniards, in the rear nine Spanish ships; in all, twenty-seven. In this order the combined fleets sailed from Toulon February 19, 1744. The English fleet, which had been cruising off Hyères in observation, chased, and on the 22d its van and centre came up with the allies; but the rear division was then several miles to windward and astern, quite out of supporting distance (Plate VII., r). The wind was easterly, both fleets heading to the southward, and the English had the weather-gage. The numbers were nearly equal, the English having twenty-nine to the allied twenty-seven; but this advantage was reversed by the failure of the English rear to join. The course of the rear-admiral has been generally attributed to ill-will toward Matthews; for although he proved that in his separated position he made all sail to join, he did not attack later on when he could, on the plea that the signal for the line-of-battle was flying at the same time as the signal to engage; meaning that he could not leave the line to fight without disobeying the order to form line. This technical excuse was, however, accepted by the subsequent court-martial. Under the actual conditions Matthews, mortified and harassed by the inaction of his lieutenant, and fearing that the enemy would escape if he delayed longer, made the signal to engage when his own van was abreast the enemy's centre, and at once bore down himself out of the line and attacked with his flag-ship of ninety guns the largest ship in the enemy's line, the "Royal Philip," of one hundred and ten guns, carrying the flag of the Spanish admiral (a). In doing [266]this he was bravely supported by his next ahead and astern. The moment of attack seems to have been judiciously chosen; five Spanish ships had straggled far to the rear, leaving their admiral with the support only of his next ahead and astern, while three other Spaniards continued on with the French. The English van stood on, engaging the allied centre, while the allied van was without antagonists. Being thus disengaged, the latter was desirous of tacking to windward of the head of the English line, thus putting it between two fires, but was checked by the intelligent action of the three leading English captains, who, disregarding the signal to bear down, kept their commanding position and stopped the enemy's attempts to double. For this they were cashiered by the court-martial, but afterward restored. This circumspect but justifiable disregard of signals was imitated without any justification by all the English captains of the centre, save the admiral's seconds already mentioned, as well as by some of those in the van, who kept up a cannonade at long range while their commander-in-chief was closely and even furiously engaged. The one marked exception was Captain Hawke, afterward the distinguished admiral, who imitated the example of his chief, and after driving his first antagonist out of action, quitted his place in the van (b), brought to close quarters (b’) a fine Spanish ship that had kept at bay five other English ships, and took her,—the only prize made that day. The commander of the English van, with his seconds, also behaved with spirit and came to close action. It is unnecessary to describe the battle further; as a military affair it deserves no attention, and its most important result was to bring out the merit of Hawke, whom the king and the government always remembered for his share in it. The general inefficiency and wide-spread misbehavior of the English captains, after five years of declared war, will partly explain the failure of England to obtain from her undoubted naval superiority the results she might have expected in this war—the first act in a forty years' drama—and they give military officers a lesson on the [267]necessity of having their minds prepared and stocked, by study of the conditions of war in their own day, if they would not be found unready and perhaps disgraced in the hour of battle.[89] It is not to be supposed that so many English seamen misbehaved through so vulgar and rare a defect as mere cowardice; it was unpreparedness of mind and lack of military efficiency in the captains, combined with bad leadership on the part of the admiral, with a possible taint of ill will toward him as a rude and domineering superior, that caused this fiasco. Attention may here fitly be drawn to the effect of a certain cordiality and good-will on the part of superiors toward their subordinates. It is not perhaps essential to military success, but it undoubtedly contributes to the other elements of that success a spirit, a breath of life, which makes possible what would otherwise be impossible; which reaches heights of devotion and achievement that the strictest discipline, not so enkindled, cannot attain. Doubtless it is a natural gift. The highest example of it possibly ever known among seamen was Nelson. When he joined the fleet just before Trafalgar, the captains who gathered on board the [268]flag-ship seemed to forget the rank of their admiral in their desire to testify their joy at meeting him. "This Nelson," wrote Captain Duff, who fell in the battle, "is so lovable and excellent a man, so kindly a leader, that we all wish to exceed his desires and anticipate his orders." He himself was conscious of this fascination and its value, when writing of the battle of the Nile to Lord Howe, he said, "I had the happiness to command a band of brothers."
In the latter part of 1743, Infante Philip of Spain tried to land on the coast of the Genoese Republic, which was not friendly to the Austrians. However, the English fleet thwarted this attempt, forcing the Spanish ships to retreat to Toulon. They remained there for four months, unable to sail due to the English fleet's superiority. In this situation, the Spanish court reached out to Louis XV. and received an order for the French fleet, led by Admiral [265]de Court—an eighty-year-old veteran from the time of Louis XIV.—to escort the Spaniards either to the Gulf of Genoa or back to their own ports, though it’s unclear which. The French admiral was instructed not to fire unless he was attacked. To ensure better cooperation from the Spaniards, whose effectiveness he likely doubted, De Court suggested, like Ruyter had long ago, to mix their ships with his own. But when the Spanish admiral, Navarro, refused, the battle line was established with nine French ships at the front, six French and three Spanish ships in the center, and nine Spanish ships at the back—totaling twenty-seven ships. The combined fleets departed from Toulon on February 19, 1744. The English fleet, which had been watching near Hyères, pursued them, and on the 22nd, its front and center caught up with the allies; however, the rear division was several miles away, out of support range (Plate VII., r). The wind was coming from the east, with both fleets heading southward, and the English had the weather-gage. The numbers were almost equal, with the English having twenty-nine to the allied twenty-seven; but this advantage was undermined by the failure of the English rear to join. The actions of the rear-admiral have generally been attributed to his ill feelings toward Matthews; although he demonstrated that he attempted to catch up, he did not engage later when he could, claiming the signal for the line-of-battle was flying simultaneously with the signal to engage, suggesting he couldn’t leave the line to fight without disobeying orders. This technical excuse was accepted by the court-martial that followed. Under these conditions, Matthews, frustrated by his lieutenant's inaction and fearing that the enemy would escape if he waited any longer, signaled to engage when his own front was in line with the enemy's center, then broke away from the line and attacked with his flagship of ninety guns the largest ship in the enemy's line, the "Royal Philip," armed with one hundred and ten guns and flying the Spanish admiral's flag (a). He was strongly supported by the ships next to him. The moment of attack appears to have been wisely chosen; five Spanish ships had fallen far behind, leaving their admiral with only limited support, while three other Spaniards continued on with the French. The English front continued to engage the allied center, while the allied front faced no opposition. Wanting to tack to windward of the English line's head to trap it between two attacking fronts, they were thwarted by the quick thinking of the three leading English captains, who ignored the signal to bear down, maintained their commanding positions, and stopped the enemy’s attempts to double up on them. For this, they were dismissed by the court-martial but later reinstated. This cautious yet justifiable disregard of signals was imitated without justification by all English captains in the center, except the admiral's seconds already mentioned, and some in the front, who engaged in long-range cannon fire while their commander-in-chief was deeply involved and even fiercely engaged. The notable exception was Captain Hawke, who would later become a distinguished admiral; after driving his first opponent from the fight, he left his position in the front (b), brought to close quarters (b’) a fine Spanish ship that had kept five other English ships at bay, and captured her—the only prize taken that day. The commander of the English front, along with his seconds, also fought with spirit and engaged in close action. There’s no need to describe the battle further; as a military event, it isn’t noteworthy, and its most significant outcome was to highlight Hawke’s capabilities, which the king and the government always remembered. The overall ineffectiveness and widespread misconduct of the English captains, after five years of declared war, partially explain England's failure to achieve the results expected from its clear naval superiority in this conflict—the opening act of a forty-year saga—and it serves as a reminder to military officers about the need to be mentally prepared and knowledgeable about contemporary warfare to avoid being caught unprepared and shamed in battle.[89] It shouldn't be assumed that so many English seamen misbehaved due to mere cowardice; it stemmed from a lack of mental readiness and military efficiency in the captains, combined with poor leadership from the admiral, along with potential personal grudges against him for being a harsh and domineering superior, that led to this failure. It's also worth noting the impact of some warmth and goodwill from superiors toward their subordinates. While it may not be essential for military success, it undoubtedly adds a spirit and energy that can enable what would otherwise be impossible, reaching levels of commitment and achievement that strict discipline alone cannot inspire. This trait is likely a natural gift. The highest example of it among sailors may well be Nelson. When he joined the fleet just before Trafalgar, the captains who gathered aboard the [268]flagship appeared to overlook the rank of their admiral in their eagerness to express their joy at seeing him. "This Nelson," wrote Captain Duff, who died in the battle, "is such a lovable and admirable man, such a kind leader, that we all want to exceed his expectations and anticipate his orders." He himself recognized this charm and its significance when he wrote to Lord Howe about the battle of the Nile, saying, "I had the happiness to command a band of brothers."
The celebrity attained by Matthews's action off Toulon, certainly not due to the skill with which it was managed, nor to its results, sprang from the clamor at home, and chiefly from the number and findings of the courts-martial that followed. Both the admiral and his second, and also eleven captains out of the twenty-nine, had charges preferred against them. The admiral was cashiered because he had broken the line; that is, because his captains did not follow him when he left it to get at the enemy,—a decision that smacks more of the Irish bull than of the Irish love of fighting. The second was acquitted on the technical grounds already given; he avoided the fault of breaking the line by keeping far enough away. Of the eleven captains one died, one deserted, seven were dismissed or suspended, two only were acquitted. Nor were the French and Spaniards better pleased; mutual recriminations passed. Admiral de Court was relieved from his command, while the Spanish admiral was decorated by his government with the title of Marquis de la Victoria, a most extraordinary reward for what was at best a drawn fight. The French, on the other hand, assert that he left the deck on the plea of a very slight wound, and that the ship was really fought by a French captain who happened to be on board.
The fame gained by Matthews’s actions off Toulon certainly didn’t come from how skillfully it was handled or its outcomes; it was mainly due to the uproar back home and especially from the number and results of the courts-martial that followed. Both the admiral and his second-in-command, along with eleven out of the twenty-nine captains, faced charges. The admiral was dismissed because he broke the line, meaning his captains didn’t follow him when he left it to engage the enemy—a choice that seems more like an Irish joke than a reflection of the Irish fighting spirit. The second-in-command was acquitted on technical grounds; he avoided the mistake of breaking the line by keeping a safe distance. Of the eleven captains, one died, one deserted, seven were dismissed or suspended, and only two were acquitted. The French and Spaniards were not pleased either, leading to mutual accusations. Admiral de Court was relieved of his command, while the Spanish admiral was honored by his government with the title of Marquis de la Victoria, a rather unusual reward for what was, at best, a stalemate. The French claim that he left the deck due to a very minor wound and that the ship was actually commanded by a French captain who happened to be on board.
To use a common expression, this battle, the first general action since that off Malaga forty years before, "woke up" the English people and brought about a healthful reaction. The sifting process begun by the battle itself was continued, but the result was reached too late to have its proper effect on the current war. It is rather by its deficient action, than by such conspicuous successes as were attained in earlier and [269]later times, that the general value of England's sea power is now shown; like some precious faculty, scarcely valued when possessed, but keenly missed when withdrawn. Mistress now of the seas rather by the weakness of her enemies than by her own disciplined strength, she drew from that mastery no adequate results; the most solid success, the capture of Cape Breton Island, in 1745, was achieved by the colonial forces of New England, to which indeed the royal navy lent valuable aid, for to troops so situated the fleet is the one line of communication. The misconduct off Toulon was repeated by officers high in command in the West and East Indies, resulting in the latter case in the loss of Madras. Other causes concurred with the effete condition of the naval officers to hamper the action of that sea power which launches out far from home. The condition of England itself was insecure; the cause of the Stuarts was still alive, and though a formidable invasion by fifteen thousand troops under Marshal Saxe, in 1744, was foiled, partly by the English Channel fleet, and partly by a storm which wrecked several of the transports assembled off Dunkirk, with the loss of many lives, yet the reality of the danger was shown in the following year, when the Pretender landed in Scotland with only a few men at his back and the northern kingdom rose with him. His successful invasion was carried well down into England itself; and sober historians have thought that at one time the chances of ultimate success were rather with than against him. Another serious fetter upon the full use of England's power was the direction given to the French operations on land and the mistaken means used to oppose them. Neglecting Germany, France turned upon the Austrian Netherlands, a country which England, out of regard to her sea interests, was not willing to see conquered. Her commercial preponderance would be directly threatened by the passing of Antwerp, Ostend, and the Scheldt into the hands of her great rival; and though her best check against this would have been to seize valuable French possessions elsewhere and hold them as a pledge, the weakness of her government and the present inefficiency of the navy prevented her doing so. [270]The position of Hanover, again, controlled the action of England; for though united only by the tie of a common sovereign, the love of that sovereign for his continental dominion, his native country, made itself strongly felt in the councils of a weak and time-serving ministry. It was the disregard of Hanover by the first William Pitt, consequent upon his strong English feeling, that incensed the king and led him so long to resist the demands of the nation that he should be put at the head of affairs. These different causes—dissension at home, interest in the Netherlands, regard for Hanover—combined to prevent a subservient and second-rate ministry, divided also among themselves, from giving a proper direction and infusing a proper spirit into the naval war; but a better condition of the navy itself, more satisfactory results from it, might have modified even their action. As it was, the outcome of the war was almost nothing as regards the disputes between England and her special enemies. On the continent, the questions after 1745 reduced themselves to two,—what part of the Austrian possessions should be given to Prussia, Spain, and Sardinia, and how peace was to be wrenched by France from England and Holland. The sea countries still, as of old, bore the expenses of the war, which however now fell chiefly upon England. Marshal Saxe, who commanded the French in Flanders throughout this war, summed up the situation in half a dozen words to his king. "Sire," said he, "peace is within the walls of Maestricht." This strong city opened the course of the Meuse and the way for the French army into the United Provinces from the rear; for the English fleet, in conjunction with that of Holland, prevented an attack from the sea. By the end of 1746, despite the efforts of the allies, nearly all Belgium was in the hands of the French; but up to this time, although Dutch subsidies were supporting the Austrian government, and Dutch troops in the Netherlands were fighting for it, there was nominal peace between the United Provinces and France. In April, 1747, "the King of France invaded Dutch Flanders, announcing that he was [271]obliged to send his army into the territory of the republic, to arrest the protection granted by the States-General to the Austrian and English troops; but that he had no intention of breaking with it, and that the places and provinces occupied would be restored to the United Provinces as soon as they gave proof that they had ceased to succor the enemies of France." This was actual, but not formal, war. Numerous places fell during the year, and the successes of the French inclined both Holland and England to come to terms. Negotiations went on during the winter; but in April, 1748, Saxe invested Maestricht. This forced a peace.
To put it in modern terms, this battle, the first major engagement since the one at Malaga forty years earlier, "woke up" the English people and sparked a healthy response. The filtering process initiated by the battle continued, but the outcome was too late to make a significant impact on the ongoing war. It is actually through its inadequate efforts, rather than through the notable successes seen in earlier and later times, that the true value of England's naval power is now revealed; like some valuable ability, often unappreciated when in use but keenly missed when absent. Now the master of the seas more due to the weakness of her enemies than her own disciplined strength, England failed to gain significant benefits from this dominance; the most notable success, the capture of Cape Breton Island in 1745, was accomplished by the colonial forces of New England, though the royal navy provided valuable support, as the fleet is the only means of communication for troops in that region. The misconduct seen at Toulon was repeated by high-ranking officers in the West and East Indies, leading to the loss of Madras in the latter case. Various factors, combined with the ineffective state of naval officials, hindered the actions of naval power that operates far from home. The situation in England itself was unstable; the Stuart cause was still a threat, and although a major invasion by fifteen thousand troops under Marshal Saxe in 1744 was thwarted, partly by the English Channel fleet and partly by a storm that destroyed several transports off Dunkirk, resulting in many casualties, the reality of the danger was evident the following year when the Pretender landed in Scotland with only a handful of supporters and the northern kingdom rose with him. His successful invasion extended deep into England, and serious historians believe that at one point, his chances of ultimate success were actually more favorable than unfavorable. Another significant constraint on the full use of England's power was the focus on French land operations and the misjudged strategies used to counter them. Instead of addressing Germany, France chose to attack the Austrian Netherlands, a region that England was not willing to see conquered due to its concern for maritime interests. Her commercial dominance would be directly threatened if Antwerp, Ostend, and the Scheldt fell into the hands of her main rival; and even though her best counter would have been to seize valuable French territories elsewhere and hold them as leverage, the weakness of her government and the current inefficacy of the navy made that impossible. The situation in Hanover also influenced England's actions; although it was connected only by a common monarch, the king's affection for his continental possessions and his homeland strongly impacted the decisions of a weak and self-serving administration. It was Pitt the Elder's disregard for Hanover, stemming from his strong English sentiments, that angered the king and led to his prolonged resistance to the nation's calls for him to lead the government. These varying factors—internal discord, interest in the Netherlands, concern for Hanover—combined to inhibit a subservient and secondary ministry, which was also divided among itself, from providing a proper direction and instilling a proper spirit into the naval war. Nevertheless, a better state of the navy itself, along with more satisfactory outcomes, could have influenced even their decisions. As it stood, the outcome of the war yielded almost nothing regarding the disputes between England and her main adversaries. On the continent, the issues after 1745 boiled down to two: what portion of the Austrian territories would be allocated to Prussia, Spain, and Sardinia, and how peace would be extracted by France from England and Holland. The coastal nations still, as always, bore the costs of the war, which now primarily fell on England. Marshal Saxe, who led the French in Flanders throughout this conflict, succinctly summarized the situation to his king: "Sire," he said, "peace is within the walls of Maestricht." This strong city opened the passage of the Meuse and the route for the French army into the United Provinces from the rear; for the English fleet, in conjunction with the Dutch fleet, blocked any attack from the sea. By the end of 1746, despite the allies' efforts, almost all of Belgium was in French hands; however, up to that point, even though Dutch subsidies were supporting the Austrian government and Dutch troops in the Netherlands were fighting for it, there was a nominal peace between the United Provinces and France. In April 1747, "the King of France invaded Dutch Flanders, claiming that he was [271] compelled to send his army into the territory of the republic to stop the protection granted by the States-General to the Austrian and English forces; however, he had no intention of severing ties with them, and that the territories occupied would be returned to the United Provinces as soon as they demonstrated that they had ceased to support France's enemies." This constituted actual but not formal war. Numerous places fell during the year, and the French successes made both Holland and England inclined to negotiate. Discussions continued during the winter; but in April 1748, Saxe besieged Maestricht. This compelled a peace.
Meanwhile, though languishing, the sea war was not wholly uneventful. Two encounters between English and French squadrons happened during the year 1747, completing the destruction of the French fighting navy. In both cases the English were decidedly superior; and though there was given opportunity for some brilliant fighting by particular captains, and for the display of heroic endurance on the part of the French, greatly outnumbered but resisting to the last, only one tactical lesson is afforded. This lesson is, that when an enemy, either as the result of battle or from original inequality, is greatly inferior in force, obliged to fly without standing on the order of his flying, the regard otherwise due to order must be in a measure at least dismissed, and a general chase ordered. The mistake of Tourville in this respect after Beachy Head has already been noted. In the first of the cases now under discussion, the English Admiral Anson had fourteen ships against eight French, weaker individually as well as in total number; in the second, Sir Edward Hawke had fourteen against nine, the latter being somewhat larger, ship for ship, than the English. In both cases the signal was made for a general chase, and the action which resulted was a mêlée. There was no opportunity for anything else; the one thing necessary was to overtake the running enemy, and that can only certainly be done by letting the fleetest or best situated ships get ahead, sure that the speed of the fastest pursuers is better than that of [272]the slowest of the pursued, and that therefore either the latter must be abandoned or the whole force brought to bay. In the second case the French commander, Commodore l'Étenduère, did not have to be followed far. He had with him a convoy of two hundred and fifty merchant-ships; detaching one ship-of-the-line to continue the voyage with the convoy, he placed himself with the other eight between it and the enemy, awaiting the attack under his topsails. As the English came up one after another they divided on either side of the French column, which was thus engaged on both sides. After an obstinate resistance, six of the French ships were taken, but the convoy was saved. The English had been so roughly handled that the two remaining French men-of-war got back safely to France. If, therefore, Sir Edward Hawke showed in his attack the judgment and dash which always distinguished that remarkable officer, it may be claimed for Commodore l'Étenduère that fortune, in assigning him the glorious disadvantage of numbers, gave him also the leading part in the drama, and that he filled it nobly. A French officer justly remarks that "he defended his convoy as on shore a position is defended, when the aim is to save an army corps or to assure an evolution; he gave himself to be crushed. After an action that lasted from mid-day till eight P.M. the convoy was saved, thanks to the obstinacy of the defence; two hundred and fifty ships were saved to their owners by the devotion of L'Étenduère and of the captains under his orders. This devotion cannot be questioned, for eight ships had but few chances of surviving an action with fourteen; and not only did the commander of the eight accept an action which he might possibly have avoided, but he knew how to inspire his lieutenants with trust in him; for all supported the strife with honor, and yielded at last, showing the most indisputable proofs of their fine and energetic defence. Four ships were entirely dismasted, two had only the foremast standing."[90] The whole affair, as conducted on both sides, affords an admirable study of how to follow up an advantage, [273]original or acquired, and of the results that may be obtained by a gallant, even hopeless defence, for the furtherance of a particular object. It may be added that Hawke, disabled from further pursuit himself, sent a sloop of war express to the West Indies, with information of the approach of the convoy,—a step which led to the capture of part of it, and gives a touch of completeness to the entire transaction, which cannot fail to be gratifying to a military student interested in seeing the actors in history fully alive to and discharging to the utmost their important tasks.
Meanwhile, even though the sea war was dragging on, it wasn’t completely uneventful. There were two encounters between English and French squadrons during the year 1747, finishing off the destruction of the French fighting navy. In both instances, the English clearly had the upper hand. Although there were opportunities for some impressive fighting by certain captains and displays of heroic endurance from the greatly outnumbered French, who fought until the end, only one tactical lesson was evident. This lesson is that when an enemy is significantly outmatched in strength—due either to the battle outcome or inherent disparity—they must flee without sticking to their formation. The respect usually given to order has to be set aside to some extent, and a general chase should be initiated. Tourville’s mistake in this regard after Beachy Head has already been pointed out. In the first case we’re discussing, English Admiral Anson had fourteen ships against eight French ones, which were weaker both individually and in total. In the second case, Sir Edward Hawke had fourteen ships against nine, with the latter being somewhat larger than the English ones. In both situations, the signal was given for a general chase, resulting in a mêlée. There was no room for anything else; the primary goal was to catch the fleeing enemy, which could only be done by allowing the fastest or best-placed ships to move ahead, knowing that the speed of the fastest pursuers is better than that of the slowest of the pursued. Therefore, the latter must either be abandoned or the entire force must be brought to bear. In the second instance, the French commander, Commodore l'Étenduère, didn’t need to be pursued far. He had a convoy of two hundred and fifty merchant ships; after detaching one ship-of-the-line to continue with the convoy, he positioned the other eight between it and the enemy, waiting for the attack with his sails ready. As the English ships approached one by one, they divided on either side of the French column, engaging it from both sides. After a stubborn resistance, six of the French ships were captured, but the convoy was saved. The English had been so roughly handled that the two remaining French warships managed to return safely to France. So, while Sir Edward Hawke displayed the judgment and boldness that always characterized that remarkable officer in his attack, it can be argued that Commodore l'Étenduère, facing the challenging odds of numbers, was also playing a starring role in the scenario, and he performed it admirably. A French officer rightly notes that “he defended his convoy as one would defend a position on land, aiming to save an army corps or ensure a maneuver; he accepted being overwhelmed. After a battle that lasted from noon until eight P.M., the convoy was saved thanks to the determination of the defense; two hundred and fifty ships were rescued for their owners because of the dedication of l'Étenduère and the captains under his command. This dedication is unquestionable, as eight ships stood little chance of surviving a fight against fourteen; not only did the commander of the eight willingly engage when he could have avoided it, but he also inspired his lieutenants’ trust in him, as all fought valiantly and eventually surrendered, clearly demonstrating their brave and energetic defense. Four ships were completely dismasted, with two retaining only their foremast standing. The whole situation, as handled by both sides, provides an excellent study on how to capitalize on an advantage, whether original or gained, and the outcomes that can be achieved through a courageous, even hopeless defense, to achieve a specific goal. It’s worth noting that Hawke, unable to pursue any further himself, sent a war sloop directly to the West Indies with news of the convoy’s approach—a move that resulted in part of it being captured and adds a sense of completeness to the entire episode, which would undoubtedly please a military student interested in seeing historical figures fully engaged and carrying out their significant tasks to the fullest.
Before bringing to a close the story of this war and mentioning the peace settlement, an account must be given of the transactions in India, where France and England were then on equal terms. It has been said that affairs there were controlled by the East India companies of either nation; and that the French were represented in the peninsula by Dupleix, in the islands by La Bourdonnais. The latter was appointed to his post in 1735, and his untiring genius had been felt in all the details of administration, but especially in converting the Isle of France into a great naval station,—a work which had to be built up from the foundations. Everything was wanting; everything was by him in greater or less measure supplied,—storehouses, dock-yards, fortifications, seamen. In 1740, when war between France and England became probable, he obtained from the East India Company a squadron, though smaller than he asked, with which he proposed to ruin the English commerce and shipping; but when war actually began in 1744, he received orders not to attack the English, the French company hoping that neutrality might exist between the companies in that distant region, though the nations were at war. The proposition does not seem absurd in view of the curious relations of Holland to France, nominally at peace while sending troops to the Austrian army; but it was much to the advantage of the English, who were inferior in the Indian seas. Their company accepted the proffer, while saying that it of course could bind neither the home government nor the royal navy. [274]The advantage won by the forethought of La Bourdonnais was thus lost; though first, and long alone, on the field, his hand was stayed. Meanwhile the English admiralty sent out a squadron and began to seize French ships between India and China; not till then did the company awake from its illusion. Having done this part of its work, the English squadron sailed to the coast of India, and in July, 1745, appeared off Pondicherry, the political capital of French India, prepared to sustain an attack which the governor of Madras was about to make by land. La Bourdonnais' time was now come.
Before concluding the story of this war and discussing the peace settlement, it's important to cover the events in India, where France and England were on equal footing. It has been said that the situation there was managed by the East India companies of both nations, with the French represented by Dupleix on the mainland and La Bourdonnais in the islands. The latter was appointed to his position in 1735, and his tireless efforts were felt in all aspects of administration, especially in developing the Isle of France into a major naval base—a task that had to be built from the ground up. Nothing was available; he supplied everything to varying degrees—warehouses, shipyards, fortifications, sailors. In 1740, when war between France and England seemed likely, he secured a squadron from the East India Company, although it was smaller than what he requested, intending to disrupt English trade and shipping. However, when war officially broke out in 1744, he was instructed not to attack the English, as the French company hoped for a neutral stance between the companies in that remote area, despite the nations being at war. This suggestion doesn’t seem unreasonable considering the unusual relationship of Holland to France, which was technically at peace while sending troops to the Austrian army; however, it greatly benefited the English, who were weaker in the Indian seas. Their company accepted the offer, stating it couldn’t, of course, bind either the home government or the royal navy. [274] The advantage gained by La Bourdonnais' foresight was thus wasted; although he was the first and for a long time the only one on the field, his hand was held back. Meanwhile, the English admiralty dispatched a squadron that began to seize French ships between India and China; it was only then that the French company began to realize the reality of the situation. Having completed this part of their mission, the English squadron sailed to the Indian coast and, in July 1745, arrived off Pondicherry, the political capital of French India, ready to withstand an assault that the governor of Madras was preparing to launch from land. La Bourdonnais' moment had finally arrived.
Meanwhile, on the mainland of the Indian peninsula, Dupleix had been forming wide views and laying broad foundations for the establishment of French preponderance. Having entered the service of their company at first in a subordinate clerical position, his ability had raised him by rapid steps to be head of the commercial establishments at Chandernagore, to which he gave a very great enlargement, seriously affecting, it is said even destroying, parts of the English trade. In 1742 he was made governor-general, and as such removed to Pondicherry. Here he began to develop his policy, which aimed at bringing India under the power of France. He saw that through the progress and extension of the European races over the seas of the whole world the time had come when the Eastern peoples must be brought into ever-increasing contact with them; and he judged that India, so often conquered before, was now about to be conquered by Europeans. He meant that France should win the prize, and saw in England the only rival. His plan was to meddle in Indian politics: first, as head of a foreign and independent colony, which he already was; and second, as a vassal of the Great Mogul, which he intended to become. To divide and conquer, to advance the French lines and influence by judicious alliances, to turn wavering scales by throwing in on one side or the other the weight of French courage and skill,—such were his aims. Pondicherry, though a poor harbor, was well adapted for his political plans; being far distant from Delhi, the capital of the Mogul, aggressive extension might [275]go on unmarked, until strong enough to bear the light. Dupleix's present aim, therefore, was to build up a great French principality in southeast India, around Pondicherry, while maintaining the present positions in Bengal.
Meanwhile, on the mainland of the Indian peninsula, Dupleix was developing broad plans and laying the groundwork for establishing French dominance. He had joined their company initially in a junior clerical role, but his skills quickly propelled him to head the commercial operations at Chandernagore, which he significantly expanded, reportedly impacting and even harming parts of the English trade. In 1742, he became governor-general and moved to Pondicherry. Here, he began to implement his strategy, which aimed at bringing India under French control. He recognized that with the growth and expansion of European nations across the seas, the time had come for Eastern peoples to have increasing contact with them; he believed that India, having been conquered multiple times before, was now on the brink of being taken by Europeans. He intended for France to seize this opportunity and identified England as the only competitor. His plan involved intervening in Indian politics: first, as the leader of a foreign and independent colony, which he already was; and second, as a subordinate of the Great Mogul, which he planned to become. His goals were to divide and conquer, to expand French influence and territory through strategic alliances, and to tip the balance in conflicts by leveraging French courage and skill. Although Pondicherry was a poor harbor, it suited his political ambitions well; being located far from Delhi, the Mogul capital, he could pursue aggressive expansion without drawing attention until he was strong enough to withstand scrutiny. Thus, Dupleix's immediate goal was to create a substantial French principality in southeastern India, centered around Pondicherry, while keeping the current positions in Bengal.
Let it be noted, however,—and the remark is necessary in order to justify the narration of these plans in connection with our subject, a connection perhaps not at first evident,—that the kernel of the question now before Dupleix was not how to build up an empire out of the Indian provinces and races, but how to get rid of the English, and that finally. The wildest dreams of sovereignty he may have entertained could not have surpassed the actual performance of England a few years later. European qualities were bound to tell, if not offset by the opposition of other Europeans; and such opposition on the one side or the other depended upon the control of the sea. In a climate so deadly to the white races the small numbers whose heroism bore up the war against fearful odds on many a field must be continually renewed. As everywhere and always, the action of sea power was here quiet and unperceived; but it will not be necessary to belittle in the least the qualities and career of Clive the English hero of this time and the founder of their empire, in order to prove the decisive influence which it exerted, despite the inefficiency of the English naval officers first engaged, and the lack of conclusive results in such naval battles as were fought.[91] If during the twenty years following 1743, French [276]fleets instead of English had controlled the coasts of the peninsula and the seas between it and Europe, can it be believed that the schemes of Dupleix would have utterly failed? "Naval inferiority," justly says a French historian, "was the principal cause that arrested the progress of Dupleix. The French royal navy did not make its appearance in the East Indies" in his day. It remains to tell the story briefly.
Let it be noted, however—and this remark is important to justify the discussion of these plans in relation to our topic, a connection that might not be immediately clear—that the main issue Dupleix faced was not about building an empire from the Indian provinces and cultures, but rather about getting rid of the English once and for all. The most ambitious dreams of control he may have had could not compare to what England actually achieved a few years later. European strengths were bound to make an impact, unless balanced out by other Europeans’ resistance; and this opposition, whether from one side or the other, depended on who controlled the sea. In a climate so hostile to white populations, the few individuals whose bravery sustained the fight against overwhelming odds on many battlefields had to be continuously replenished. As was the case everywhere and at all times, the effects of sea power were subtle and not immediately obvious; however, it is not necessary to downplay the qualities and achievements of Clive, the English hero of this period and the founder of their empire, to demonstrate the significant influence he had, despite the initial ineffectiveness of the English naval officers involved and the inconclusive outcomes of some naval battles fought. If, during the twenty years following 1743, French fleets instead of English had dominated the coasts of the peninsula and the waters between it and Europe, can we really believe that Dupleix’s plans would have completely failed? "Naval inferiority," rightly states a French historian, "was the primary reason that halted Dupleix's progress. The French royal navy did not show up in the East Indies during his time." The story remains to be told briefly.
The English, in 1745, made preparations to besiege Pondicherry, in which the royal navy was to support the land forces; but the effects of Dupleix's political schemes were at once seen. The Nabob of the Carnatic threatened to attack Madras, and the English desisted. The following year La Bourdonnais appeared on the scene, and an action took place between his squadron and that under Commodore Peyton; after which, although it had been a drawn fight, the English officer deserted the coast, taking refuge in Ceylon, and leaving the control at sea with the French. La Bourdonnais anchored at Pondicherry, where quarrels between him and Dupleix soon arose, and were aggravated by the conflicting tone of their instructions from home. In September he went to Madras, attacked by land and sea, and took the place, but made with the governor the stipulation that it might be ransomed; and a ransom of two million dollars was accordingly paid. When Dupleix heard of this he was very angry, and claimed to annul the terms of capitulation on the ground that, once taken, the place was within his jurisdiction. La Bourdonnais resented this attempt as dishonorable to him after the promise given. While the quarrel was going on, a violent cyclone wrecked two of his ships and dismasted the rest. He soon after returned to France, where his activity and zeal were repaid by three years' imprisonment under charges, from the effects of which treatment he died. After his departure Dupleix broke the capitulation, seized and kept Madras, drove out the English settlers, and went on to strengthen the fortifications. From Madras he turned against Fort St. David, but the approach of an English squadron compelled him to raise the siege in March, 1747.
In 1745, the English prepared to lay siege to Pondicherry, with the royal navy set to support the ground troops; however, the outcomes of Dupleix's political maneuvers quickly became evident. The Nabob of the Carnatic threatened to attack Madras, prompting the English to back off. The following year, La Bourdonnais arrived, leading to a clash between his squadron and Commodore Peyton's forces; although it was a stalemate, the English officer abandoned the coast, taking refuge in Ceylon and leaving the French in control of the sea. La Bourdonnais docked at Pondicherry, where conflicts with Dupleix soon emerged, made worse by their conflicting instructions from their superiors. In September, he moved to Madras, attacking by land and sea, and captured the city, but agreed with the governor that it could be ransomed; consequently, a ransom of two million dollars was paid. When Dupleix heard about this, he was furious and insisted on nullifying the terms of capitulation, arguing that now that it was taken, the city was under his jurisdiction. La Bourdonnais took this move personally, perceiving it as dishonorable given the promise made. While the dispute continued, a fierce cyclone destroyed two of his ships and damaged the others. Shortly after, he returned to France, where his efforts and enthusiasm led to three years of imprisonment on charges that contributed to his death. After his departure, Dupleix disregarded the agreement, seized Madras, expelled the English settlers, and reinforced the fortifications. From Madras, he targeted Fort St. David, but the arrival of an English squadron forced him to lift the siege in March 1747.
[277]During this year the disasters to the French navy in the Atlantic, already related, left the English undisturbed masters of the sea. In the following winter they sent to India the greatest European fleet yet seen in the East, with a large land force, the whole under the command of Admiral Boscawen, who bore a general's commission in addition to his naval rank. The fleet appeared off the Coromandel coast in August, 1748. Pondicherry was attacked by land and sea, but Dupleix made a successful resistance. The English fleet in its turn suffered from a hurricane, and the siege was raised in October. Shortly after came the news of the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, which ended the European war. Dupleix, with his home communications restored, could now resume his subtle and persevering efforts to secure a territorial base which should, as far as possible, shelter him from the chances of sea war. Pity that so much genius and patience should have been spent in an effort wholly vain; nothing could protect against that sea attack but a naval aid, which the home government could not give. One of the conditions of the peace was that Madras should be restored to the English in exchange for Louisburg, the prize won by the North American colonists and released by them as reluctantly as Madras was by Dupleix. This was indeed illustrating Napoleon's boast that he would reconquer Pondicherry on the bank of the Vistula; yet, although the maritime supremacy of England made Louisburg in her hands much stronger than Madras, or any other position in India, when held by the French, the gain by the exchange was decidedly on the side of Great Britain. The English colonists were not men to be contented with this action; but they knew the naval power of England, and that they could do again what they had done once, at a point not far distant from their own shores. They understood the state of the case. Not so with Madras. How profound must have been the surprise of the native princes at this surrender, how injurious to the personality of Dupleix and the influence he had gained among them, to see him, in the very hour of victory, forced, by a power they could not [278]understand, to relinquish his spoil! They were quite right; the mysterious power which they recognized by its working, though they saw it not, was not in this or that man, king or statesman, but in that control of the sea which the French government knew forbade the hope of maintaining that distant dependency against the fleets of England. Dupleix himself saw it not; for some years more he continued building, on the sand of Oriental intrigues and lies, a house which he vainly hoped would stand against the storms that must descend upon it.
[277]During this year, the disasters faced by the French navy in the Atlantic, as previously mentioned, allowed the English to remain unchallenged masters of the sea. The following winter, they dispatched the largest European fleet ever seen in the East to India, along with a significant land force, all under the command of Admiral Boscawen, who held a general's commission in addition to his naval rank. The fleet arrived off the Coromandel coast in August 1748. Pondicherry was attacked from both land and sea, but Dupleix successfully resisted. The English fleet later suffered from a hurricane, leading to the siege being lifted in October. Shortly after, news arrived of the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, which ended the European war. With his communications restored, Dupleix could now continue his clever and persistent efforts to secure a territorial base that would, as much as possible, protect him from the perils of naval conflict. It’s unfortunate that so much talent and patience were wasted on a completely futile effort; nothing could guard against a naval attack without support from the home government, which was unavailable. One of the peace conditions required Madras to be returned to the English in exchange for Louisburg, a prize taken by the North American colonists and reluctantly released by them, just as Madras was reluctantly given up by Dupleix. This indeed illustrated Napoleon's boast that he would recapture Pondicherry by the Vistula; however, even though England's maritime superiority made Louisburg far more valuable in their hands than Madras or any other position in India held by the French, the benefits of this exchange clearly favored Great Britain. The English colonists were not the type to be satisfied with this outcome; they understood England's naval power and that they could achieve again what they had done once at a place not far from their own shores. They grasped the situation well. But not so with Madras. Imagine the surprise of the native princes at this surrender, how damaging it must have been to Dupleix's reputation and the influence he had earned among them, to see him, at the very moment of victory, forced by a power they could not [278]comprehend to give up his prize! They were entirely correct; the mysterious force they recognized by its effects, although invisible to them, was not tied to any specific man, king, or statesman, but rather in the dominion of the sea, which the French government understood prevented any hope of maintaining that distant territory against the fleets of England. Dupleix himself did not see it; for several more years, he continued to build, on a foundation of Eastern intrigues and falsehoods, a structure that he foolishly hoped would withstand the inevitable storms that were bound to strike it.
The Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, ending this general war, was signed April 30, 1748, by England, France, and Holland, and finally by all the powers in October of the same year. With the exception of certain portions shorn off the Austrian Empire,—Silesia for Prussia, Parma for the Infante Philip of Spain, and some Italian territory to the east of Piedmont for the King of Sardinia,—the general tenor of the terms was a return to the status before the war. "Never, perhaps, did any war, after so many great events, and so large a loss of blood and treasure, end in replacing the nations engaged in it so nearly in the same situation as they held at first." In truth, as regarded France, England, and Spain, the affair of the Austrian succession, supervening so soon upon the outbreak of war between the two latter, had wholly turned hostilities aside from their true direction and postponed for fifteen years the settlement of disputes which concerned them much more nearly than the accession of Maria Theresa. In the distress of her old enemy, the House of Austria, France was easily led to renew her attacks upon it, and England as easily drawn to oppose the attempts of the French to influence or dictate in German affairs,—a course the more readily followed from the German interests of the king. It may be questioned whether the true policy for France was to direct the war upon the heart of the Austrian Empire, by way of the Rhine and Germany, or, as she finally did, upon the remote possessions of the Netherlands. In the former case she rested on friendly territory in Bavaria, and gave a hand to Prussia, [279]whose military power was now first felt. Such was the first theatre of the war. On the other hand, in the Netherlands, whither the chief scene of hostilities shifted later, France struck not only at Austria, but also at the sea powers, always jealous of her intrusion there. They were the soul of the war against her, by their subsidies to her other enemies and by the losses inflicted on her commerce and that of Spain. The misery of France was alleged to the King of Spain by Louis XV., as forcing him to conclude peace; and it is evident that the suffering must have been great to induce him to yield such easy terms as he did, when he already held the Netherlands and parts of Holland itself by force of arms. But while so successful on the continent, his navy was annihilated and communication with the colonies thus cut off; and though it may be doubted whether the French government of that day cherished the colonial ambitions ascribed to it by some, it is certain French commerce was suffering enormously.
The Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, which ended this widespread war, was signed on April 30, 1748, by England, France, and Holland, and finally by all the powers in October of the same year. Except for certain territories taken from the Austrian Empire—Silesia for Prussia, Parma for Infante Philip of Spain, and some Italian land east of Piedmont for the King of Sardinia—the overall terms mostly restored the situation to what it was before the war. "Never, perhaps, did any war, after so many significant events, and such a large loss of life and resources, end with the nations involved returning so closely to their original positions." In reality, for France, England, and Spain, the issue of the Austrian succession, occurring so soon after the war broke out between the latter two, completely diverted hostilities from their real focus and delayed resolving disputes that were much more relevant to them than the rise of Maria Theresa. In the misfortune of its old rival, the House of Austria, France easily resumed its attacks on it, while England quickly moved to counter the French attempts to influence or control German affairs—an action encouraged by the king's German interests. It's questionable whether France's best strategy was to target the heart of the Austrian Empire through the Rhine and Germany, or, as it ultimately did, focus on the distant regions of the Netherlands. In the first scenario, France would have been supported by Bavaria and could have collaborated with Prussia, [279] whose military strength was being felt for the first time. This was the initial battleground of the war. Conversely, in the Netherlands, where the main conflict later shifted, France not only attacked Austria but also the maritime powers that were always wary of its encroachment. These powers were vital to the war against France, providing subsidies to her other enemies and inflicting damage on her trade and that of Spain. Louis XV claimed France’s hardship as a reason for the King of Spain to agree to peace; it’s clear the suffering must have been significant to prompt him to accept such lenient terms, especially when he already occupied the Netherlands and parts of Holland by military force. However, while he enjoyed success on the continent, his navy was destroyed, cutting off communication with the colonies. Although it's debatable whether the French government of that time truly had colonial ambitions as some suggest, it’s undeniable that French commerce was suffering greatly.
While this was the condition of France, impelling her to peace, England in 1747 found that, from disputes about trade in Spanish America and through the inefficient action of her navy, she had been led away into a continental war, in which she had met with disaster, incurred nearly £80,000,000 of debt, and now saw her ally Holland threatened with invasion. The peace itself was signed under a threat by the French envoy that the slightest delay would be the signal for the French to destroy the fortifications of the captured towns and at once begin the invasion. At the same time her own resources were drained, and Holland, exhausted, was seeking to borrow from her. "Money," we are told, "was never so scarce in the city, and cannot be had at twelve per cent." Had France, therefore, at this time had a navy able to make head against that of England, even though somewhat inferior in strength, she might, with her grip on the Netherlands and Maestricht, have exacted her own conditions. England, on the other hand, though driven to the wall on the continent, was nevertheless able to obtain peace on equal terms, through the control of the sea by her navy.
While France was in this position, pushing her towards peace, England in 1747 realized that disputes over trade in Spanish America and the ineffectiveness of her navy had pulled her into a continental war, leading to disaster and nearly £80,000,000 in debt, while her ally Holland faced the threat of invasion. The peace itself was signed under threat from the French envoy, warning that any delay would signal the French to destroy the fortifications of the captured towns and immediately launch an invasion. At the same time, England’s resources were depleted, and Holland, worn out, was trying to borrow from her. "Money," we are told, "was never so scarce in the city, and cannot be had at twelve percent." If France had, at that time, possessed a navy capable of challenging England’s, even if it were slightly weaker, she might have imposed her own terms given her control over the Netherlands and Maestricht. On the other hand, despite being cornered on the continent, England was still able to secure peace on equal terms, thanks to her navy's control of the sea.
[280]The commerce of all three nations had suffered enormously, but the balance of prizes in favor of Great Britain was estimated at £2,000,000. Stated in another way, it is said that the combined losses of French and Spanish commerce amounted during the war to 3,434 ships, the English to 3,238; but in considering such figures, the relation they bear to the total merchant shipping of either nation must not be forgotten. A thousand vessels were a very much larger fraction of French shipping than of English, and meant more grievous loss.
[280]The trade of all three nations had taken a huge hit, but the total gains for Great Britain were estimated at £2,000,000. In other words, the combined losses of French and Spanish trade during the war were about 3,434 ships, while the English lost 3,238. However, when looking at these numbers, it’s important to consider how they relate to the overall merchant shipping of each country. Losing a thousand vessels represented a much larger percentage of French shipping than of English, indicating a more severe impact.
"After the disaster to the squadron of L'Étenduère," says a French writer, "the French flag did not appear at sea. Twenty-two ships-of-the-line composed the navy of France, which sixty years before had one hundred and twenty. Privateers made few prizes; followed everywhere, unprotected, they almost always fell a prey to the English. The British naval forces, without any rivals, passed unmolested over the seas. In one year they are said to have taken from French commerce £7,000,000 sterling. Yet this sea power, which might have seized French and Spanish colonies, made few conquests from want of unity and persistence in the direction given them."[92]
"After the disaster to L'Étenduère's squadron," says a French writer, "the French flag was nowhere to be seen at sea. The French navy had twenty-two battleships, a stark decline from the one hundred and twenty it had sixty years earlier. Privateers rarely captured anything; constantly pursued and unprotected, they almost always became easy targets for the English. The British naval forces, without any competition, sailed across the seas unhindered. In a single year, they reportedly took £7,000,000 sterling from French trade. However, this naval power, which could have conquered French and Spanish colonies, achieved few victories due to a lack of unity and persistence in their efforts."[92]
To sum up, 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.
To sum up, France had to give up her conquests due to lacking a navy, while England retained her position thanks to her naval strength, even though she hadn't used it to its full potential.
FOOTNOTES:
[88] Martin: History of France
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Martin: History of France
[89] There is not in modern naval history a more striking warning to the officers of every era, than this battle of Toulon. Coming as it did after a generation of comparative naval inactivity, it tried men's reputation as by fire. The lesson, in the judgment of the author, is the danger of disgraceful failure to men who have neglected to keep themselves prepared, not only in knowledge of their profession, but in the sentiment of what war requires. The average man is not a coward; but neither is he endowed by nature only with the rare faculty of seizing intuitively the proper course at a critical moment. He gains it, some more, some less, by experience or by reflection. If both have been lacking to him, indecision will follow; either from not knowing what to do, or from failure to realize that utter self-devotion of himself and his command are required. Of one of the captains cashiered it is said: "No man had ever lived with a fairer or more honorable character previous to the unfortunate event which did such irreparable injury to his reputation. Many of his contemporaries, men in the highest popular estimation, who knew him well, could scarcely credit what were indisputably established as facts, and declared, with the utmost astonishment, 'they believed it next to impossible for Captain Burrish to behave otherwise than as a man of gallantry and intrepidity.'" He had been twenty-five years in service, and eleven afloat as a captain (Charnock's Biographia Navalis). Others of the condemned men bore fair characters; and even Richard Norris, who absconded to avoid trial, had been of respectable repute.
[89] There isn't a more striking warning in modern naval history for officers from any era than the battle of Toulon. Coming after a long period of relative naval inactivity, it put men's reputations to the test. According to the author, the lesson here is the danger of disgraceful failure for those who have failed to stay prepared, not just in their professional knowledge, but also in understanding what war demands. The average person isn't a coward; however, they also don't naturally possess the unique ability to instinctively know the right course of action in critical moments. They develop this ability to varying degrees through experience or reflection. If they lack both, indecision will arise; either from not knowing what to do or from not realizing that total self-sacrifice from themselves and their command is necessary. Of one captain who was dismissed, it was said: "No man had ever lived with a fairer or more honorable character before the unfortunate event that caused irreparable damage to his reputation. Many of his peers, highly regarded individuals who knew him well, could hardly believe the facts that were undeniably established and declared, with great astonishment, 'they thought it next to impossible for Captain Burrish to act anything other than as a man of bravery and fearlessness.'" He had served for twenty-five years, including eleven years at sea as a captain (Charnock's Biographia Navalis). Other condemned men also had good reputations; even Richard Norris, who fled to avoid trial, had been held in respectable regard.
[90] Troude: Batailles Navales de la France
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Troude: Naval Battles of France
[91] "Notwithstanding the extraordinary effort made by the French in sending out M. Lally with a considerable force last year, I am confident before the end of this [1759] they will be near their last gasp in the Carnatic unless some very unforeseen event interpose in their favor. The superiority of our squadron and the plenty of money and supplies of all kinds which our friends on that coast will be furnished with from this province [Bengal], while the enemy are in total want of everything, without any visible means of redress, are such advantages as, if properly attended to, cannot fail of wholly effecting their ruin in that as well as in every other part of India" (Letter of Clive to Pitt, Calcutta, January 7, 1759; Gleig's Life of Lord Clive). It will be remembered that the control and use of Bengal, upon which Clive here counts, had only lately been acquired by the English; in the days of Dupleix they did not possess them. As will be seen later, Clive's predictions in this letter were wholly fulfilled.
[91] "Despite the tremendous effort the French put into sending M. Lally with a significant force last year, I am confident that by the end of this [1759], they will be struggling in the Carnatic unless some totally unexpected event happens to help them. The superiority of our squadron and the abundance of money and supplies of all kinds that our allies on that coast will receive from this province [Bengal], while the enemy is lacking everything and has no visible way to recover, are advantages that, if properly managed, will undoubtedly lead to their complete downfall in that region as well as in every other part of India" (Letter of Clive to Pitt, Calcutta, January 7, 1759; Gleig's Life of Lord Clive). It should be noted that the control and use of Bengal, which Clive relies on here, had only recently been taken over by the English; during Dupleix's time, they did not have it. As will be shown later, Clive's predictions in this letter were entirely realized.
CHAPTER VIII.ToC
Seven Years' War, 1756-1763.—England's Overwhelming Power and Conquests on the Seas, in North America, Europe, and East and West Indies.—Sea Battles: Byng off Minorca; Hawke and Conflans; Pocock and D'Aché in East Indies.
Seven Years' War, 1756-1763.—England's Dominant Power and Victories at Sea, in North America, Europe, and the East and West Indies.—Naval Battles: Byng near Minorca; Hawke and Conflans; Pocock and D'Aché in the East Indies.
The urgency with which peace was desired by the principal parties to the War of the Austrian Succession may perhaps be inferred from the neglect to settle definitely and conclusively many of the questions outstanding between them, and notably the very disputes about which the war between England and Spain began. It seems as though the powers feared to treat thoroughly matters that contained the germs of future quarrels, lest the discussion should prolong the war that then existed. England made peace because the fall of Holland was otherwise inevitable, not because she had enforced, or surrendered, her claims of 1739 against Spain. The right of uninterrupted navigation in West Indian seas, free from any search, was left undetermined, as were other kindred matters. Not only so, but the boundaries between the English and French colonies in the valley of the Ohio, toward Canada, and on the land side of the Nova Scotian peninsula, remained as vague as they had before been. It was plain that peace could not last; and by it, if she had saved Holland, England surrendered the control of the sea which she had won. The true character of the strife, shrouded for a moment by the continental war, was revealed by the so-called peace; though formally allayed, the contention continued in every part of the world.
The urgency for peace among the main parties in the War of the Austrian Succession can be seen in their failure to definitively settle many outstanding issues, especially the disputes that sparked the war between England and Spain. It appears that the powers were hesitant to fully address matters that could lead to future conflicts, fearing that further discussions would prolong the existing war. England pursued peace because the fall of Holland was imminent, not because she had enforced or given up her claims against Spain from 1739. The right to navigate freely in West Indian waters without inspection remained unresolved, along with other related issues. Additionally, the boundaries between the English and French colonies in the Ohio Valley, towards Canada, and on the land side of the Nova Scotia peninsula remained as unclear as before. It was obvious that peace would not endure; by saving Holland, England forfeited the control of the seas that she had gained. The true nature of the conflict, obscured momentarily by the continental war, was exposed by the so-called peace; although formally settled, the struggle continued in every part of the world.
In India, Dupleix, no longer able to attack the English openly, sought to undermine their power by the line of policy [282]already described. Mingling adroitly in the quarrels of surrounding princes, and advancing his own power while so doing, he attained by rapid steps to the political control, in 1751, of the southern extremity of India,—a country nearly as large as France. Given the title of Nabob, he now had a place among the princes of the land. "A merely commercial policy was in his eyes a delusion; there could be no middle course between conquest and abandonment." In the course of the same year further grants extended the French power through extensive regions to the north and east, embracing all the coast of Orissa, and made Dupleix ruler of a third of India. To celebrate his triumphs, perhaps also in accordance with his policy of impressing the native mind, he now founded a town and put up a pillar setting forth his successes. But his doings caused the directors of the company only disquietude; instead of the reinforcements he asked for they sent him exhortations to peace; and at about this time Robert Clive, then but twenty-six years old, began to show his genius. The success of Dupleix and his allies became checkered with reverses; the English under Clive's leadership supported the native opponents of the French. The company at home was but little interested in his political schemes, and was annoyed at the failure of dividends. Negotiations were opened at London for a settlement of difficulties, and Dupleix was summoned home; the English government, it is said, making his recall an absolute condition of continued peace. Two days after his departure, in 1754, his successor signed a treaty with the English governor, wholly abandoning his policy, stipulating that neither company should interfere in the internal politics of India, and that all possessions acquired during the war in the Carnatic should be given back to the Mogul. What France thus surrendered was in extent and population an empire, and the mortification of French historians has branded the concession as ignominious; but how could the country have been held, with the English navy cutting off the eagerly desired reinforcements?
In India, Dupleix, no longer able to openly confront the English, tried to weaken their influence through the policy already described. Skillfully getting involved in the conflicts of neighboring princes while boosting his own power, he quickly gained political control of the southern tip of India in 1751—a region nearly as large as France. Given the title of Nabob, he now had a place among the local rulers. "A purely commercial policy was, to him, a fantasy; there was no middle ground between conquest and giving up." During the same year, additional grants expanded French control over vast areas to the north and east, including the entire coast of Orissa, making Dupleix ruler over a third of India. To celebrate his victories, and perhaps to assert his influence on the local populace, he founded a town and erected a pillar commemorating his achievements. However, his actions only caused anxiety for the company’s directors; instead of sending the reinforcements he requested, they urged him to pursue peace. Around this time, Robert Clive, who was only twenty-six, began to show his talent. The success of Dupleix and his allies was mixed with setbacks; the English, under Clive's leadership, supported the native opponents of the French. The company back home was largely uninterested in his political plans and frustrated by the lack of dividends. Negotiations began in London to resolve the issues, and Dupleix was called back; reportedly, the English government made his recall a non-negotiable condition for ongoing peace. Just two days after he left, in 1754, his successor signed a treaty with the English governor, completely abandoning his policy. The agreement stated that neither company would interfere in India's internal politics and that all territories gained during the war in the Carnatic would be returned to the Mogul. What France relinquished was equivalent to an empire in terms of size and population, and French historians have expressed great disappointment over this concession; but how could the territory have been maintained with the English navy blocking the much-needed reinforcements?
In North America, the declaration of peace was followed by [283]renewed agitation, which sprang from and betokened the deep feeling and keen sense of the situation had by the colonists and local authorities on either side. The Americans held to their points with the stubbornness of their race. "There is no repose for our thirteen colonies," wrote Franklin, "so long as the French are masters of Canada." The rival claims to the central unsettled region, which may accurately enough be called the valley of the Ohio, involved, if the English were successful, the military separation of Canada from Louisiana; while on the other hand, occupation by the French, linking the two extremes of their acknowledged possessions, would shut up the English colonists between the Alleghany Mountains and the sea. The issues were apparent enough to leading Americans of that day, though they were more far-reaching than the wisest of them could have foreseen; there is room for curious speculation as to the effect, not only upon America, but upon the whole world, if the French government had had the will, and the French people the genius, effectively to settle and hold the northern and western regions which they then claimed. But while Frenchmen upon the spot saw clearly enough the coming contest and the terrible disadvantage of unequal numbers and inferior navy under which Canada must labor, the home government was blind alike to the value of the colony and to the fact that it must be fought for; while the character and habits of the French settlers, lacking in political activity and unused to begin and carry through measures for the protection of their own interests, did not remedy the neglect of the mother-country. The paternal centralizing system of French rule had taught the colonists to look to the mother-country, and then failed to take care of them. The governors of Canada of that day acted as careful and able military men, doing what they could to supply defects and weaknesses; it is possible that their action was more consistent and well-planned than that of the English governors; but with the carelessness of both home governments, nothing in the end could take the place of the capacity of the English colonists to look out for [284]themselves. It is odd and amusing to read the conflicting statements of English and French historians as to the purposes and aims of the opposing statesmen in these years when the first murmurings of the storm were heard; the simple truth seems to be that one of those conflicts familiarly known to us as irrepressible was at hand, and that both governments would gladly have avoided it. The boundaries might be undetermined; the English colonists were not.
In North America, the declaration of peace was followed by [283]renewed unrest, which arose from and reflected the deep feelings and clear understanding of the situation held by the colonists and local authorities on both sides. The Americans remained steadfast in their beliefs, displaying the tenacity characteristic of their background. "There is no peace for our thirteen colonies," wrote Franklin, "as long as the French control Canada." The competing claims to the largely unsettled area, accurately described as the valley of the Ohio, suggested that if the English succeeded, it would lead to the military separation of Canada from Louisiana; conversely, if the French occupied it, it would link their territories and confine the English colonists between the Alleghany Mountains and the sea. The stakes were clear to the prominent Americans of that time, although they were more significant than even the most astute among them could have imagined; one could speculate on how different things might have been, not only for America but for the entire world, had the French government had the will, and the French people the expertise, to effectively settle and maintain the northern and western territories they claimed. Yet, while the French on the ground recognized the looming conflict and the severe disadvantage of being outnumbered and having an inferior navy, the home government ignored both the colony's value and the necessity to defend it; at the same time, the character and habits of the French settlers, who were not politically engaged and unfamiliar with advocating for their own interests, did not compensate for the neglect from the mother-country. The centralized paternalistic system of French governance had conditioned the colonists to rely on the mother-country, which then failed to support them. The governors of Canada during that time acted as competent and skilled military leaders, doing what they could to address the deficiencies and weaknesses; it’s possible their efforts were more consistent and strategic than those of the English governors; however, with the negligence of both home governments, nothing could replace the English colonists' ability to fend for [284]themselves. It's both amusing and curious to read the conflicting accounts of English and French historians regarding the intentions and goals of the opposing statesmen during these years when the first signs of conflict emerged; the simple truth appears to be that an irrepressible conflict was on the horizon, and both governments would have preferred to avoid it. While the boundaries might have been uncertain, the English colonists were not.
The French governors established posts where they could on the debatable ground, and it was in the course of a dispute over one of these, in 1754, that the name of Washington first appears in history. Other troubles occurred in Nova Scotia, and both home governments then began to awake. In 1755 Braddock's disastrous expedition was directed against Fort Duquesne, now Pittsburg, where Washington had surrendered the year before. Later in the year another collision between the English and French colonists happened near Lake George. Although Braddock's expedition had been first to start, the French government was also moving. In May of the same year a large squadron of ships-of-war, mostly armed en flûte[93], sailed from Brest with three thousand troops, and a new governor, De Vaudreuil, for Canada. Admiral Boscawen had already preceded this fleet, and lay in wait for it off the mouth of the St. Lawrence. There was as yet no open war, and the French were certainly within their rights in sending a garrison to their own colonies; but Boscawen's orders were to stop them. A fog which scattered the French squadron also covered its passage; but two of the ships were seen by the English fleet and captured, June 8, 1755. As soon as this news reached Europe, the French ambassador to London was recalled, but still no declaration of war followed. In July, Sir Edward Hawke was sent to sea with orders to cruise between Ushant and Cape Finisterre, and to seize any French ships-of-the-line he might see; to which were added [285]in August further orders to take all French ships of every kind, men-of-war, privateers, and merchantmen, and to send them into English ports. Before the end of the year, three hundred trading vessels, valued at six million dollars, had been captured, and six thousand French seamen were imprisoned in England,—enough to man nearly ten ships-of-the-line. All this was done while nominal peace still existed. War was not declared until six months later.
The French governors set up posts wherever they could on the disputed land, and during a disagreement over one of these in 1754, Washington's name first popped up in history. More issues arose in Nova Scotia, prompting both home governments to take notice. In 1755, Braddock's disastrous expedition targeted Fort Duquesne, now Pittsburgh, where Washington had surrendered the previous year. Later that year, another clash between English and French colonists occurred near Lake George. Although Braddock's expedition was the first to launch, the French government was also mobilizing. In May of that year, a large squadron of warships, mostly armed en flûte[93], sailed from Brest with three thousand troops and a new governor, De Vaudreuil, heading to Canada. Admiral Boscawen had already set out ahead of this fleet and was lying in wait at the mouth of the St. Lawrence. There was still no open war, and the French were within their rights to send a garrison to their own colonies; however, Boscawen's orders were to stop them. A fog that scattered the French squadron also concealed its passage, but two of the ships were spotted by the English fleet and captured on June 8, 1755. As soon as this news reached Europe, the French ambassador to London was recalled, but a declaration of war still didn’t follow. In July, Sir Edward Hawke was sent to sea with instructions to cruise between Ushant and Cape Finisterre and seize any French ships-of-the-line he encountered; in August, additional orders were given to capture all types of French vessels, including warships, privateers, and merchant ships, and bring them to English ports. By the end of the year, three hundred trading vessels, worth six million dollars, had been captured, and six thousand French sailors were imprisoned in England—enough to crew nearly ten ships-of-the-line. All of this happened while there was still a nominal peace. War wasn't officially declared until six months later.
France still seemed to submit, but she was biding her time, and preparing warily a severe stroke for which she had now ample provocation. Small squadrons, or detachments of ships, continued to be sent to the West Indies and to Canada, while noisy preparations were made in the dock-yard of Brest, and troops assembled upon the shores of the Channel. England saw herself threatened with invasion,—a menace to which her people have been peculiarly susceptible. The government of the day, weak at best, was singularly unfit for waging war, and easily misled as to the real danger. Besides, England was embarrassed, as always at the beginning of a war, not only by the numerous points she had to protect in addition to her commerce, but also by the absence of a large number of her seamen in trading-vessels all over the world. The Mediterranean was therefore neglected; and the French, while making loud demonstrations on the Channel, quietly equipped at Toulon twelve ships-of-the-line, which sailed on the 10th of April, 1756, under Admiral la Galissonière, convoying one hundred and fifty transports with fifteen thousand troops, commanded by the Duke of Richelieu. A week later the army was safely landed in Minorca, and Port Mahon invested, while the fleet established itself in blockade before the harbor.
France still appeared to be passive, but she was waiting for the right moment to launch a significant strike, now with plenty of justification. Small groups of ships kept being sent to the West Indies and Canada, while noisy preparations were underway in the Brest shipyard, and troops gathered along the Channel coast. England felt threatened with invasion—a concern that particularly alarmed its people. The current government, weak as it was, was not well-equipped for war and easily misjudged the real risks. Additionally, England faced the usual challenges at the start of a war, not just from the many areas it needed to defend beyond its trade routes, but also from a shortage of sailors due to their widespread presence in trading vessels around the globe. The Mediterranean was thus neglected; meanwhile, the French were making loud showings in the Channel while quietly outfitting twelve ships of the line at Toulon. These ships set sail on April 10, 1756, under Admiral la Galissonière, escorting one hundred and fifty transport ships carrying fifteen thousand troops led by the Duke of Richelieu. A week later, the army successfully landed in Minorca, and Port Mahon was besieged, while the fleet established a blockade at the harbor.
Practically this was a complete surprise; for though the suspicions of the English government had been at last aroused, its action came too late. The garrison had not been reinforced, and numbered a scant three thousand men, from which thirty-five officers were absent on leave, among them the governor and the colonels of all the regiments. Admiral [286]Byng sailed from Portsmouth with ten ships-of-the-line only three days before the French left Toulon. Six weeks later, when he reached the neighborhood of Port Mahon, his fleet had been increased to thirteen ships-of-the-line, and he had with him four thousand troops. It was already late; a practicable breach had been made in the fortress a week before. When the English fleet came in sight, La Galissonière stood out to meet it and bar the entrance to the harbor.
This was a total surprise; even though the English government had finally started to suspect something, their response came too late. The garrison hadn't been reinforced and only had about three thousand men, with thirty-five officers absent on leave, including the governor and the colonels of all the regiments. Admiral [286]Byng set sail from Portsmouth with only ten ships-of-the-line just three days before the French left Toulon. Six weeks later, when he arrived near Port Mahon, his fleet had grown to thirteen ships-of-the-line, and he had four thousand troops with him. It was already too late; a usable breach in the fortress had been made a week earlier. When the English fleet came into view, La Galissonière came out to confront it and block the entrance to the harbor.
The battle that followed owes its historical celebrity wholly to the singular and tragic event which arose from it. Unlike Matthews's battle off Toulon, it does afford some tactical instruction, though mainly applicable to the obsolete conditions of warfare under sail; but it is especially linked to the earlier action through the effect produced upon the mind of the unfortunate Byng by the sentence of the court-martial upon Matthews. During the course of the engagement he repeatedly alluded to the censure upon that admiral for leaving the line, and seems to have accepted the judgment as justifying, if not determining, his own course. Briefly, it may be said that the two fleets, having sighted each other on the morning of the 20th of May, were found after a series of manœuvres both on the port tack, with an easterly wind, heading southerly, the French to leeward, between the English and the harbor. Byng ran down in line ahead off the wind, the French remaining by it, so that when the former made the signal to engage, the fleets were not parallel, but formed an angle of from thirty to forty degrees (Plate VIIa. A, A). The attack which Byng by his own account meant to make, each ship against its opposite in the enemy's line, difficult to carry out under any circumstances, was here further impeded by the distance between the two rears being much greater than that between the vans; so that his whole line could not come into action at the same moment. When the signal was made, the van ships kept away in obedience to it, and ran down for the French so nearly head-on (B, B) as to sacrifice their artillery fire in great measure; they received three raking broadsides, and were [287]seriously dismantled aloft. The sixth English ship, counting from the van, had her foretopmast shot away, flew up into the wind, and came aback, stopping and doubling up the rear of the line. Then undoubtedly was the time for Byng, having committed himself to the fight, to have set the example and borne down, just as Farragut did at Mobile when his line was confused by the stopping of the next ahead; but according to the testimony of the flag-captain, Matthews's sentence deterred him. "You see, Captain Gardiner, that the signal for the line is out, and that I am ahead of the ships 'Louisa' and 'Trident' [which in the order should have been ahead of him]. You would not have me, as the admiral of the fleet, run down as if I were going to engage a single ship. It was Mr. Matthews's misfortune to be prejudiced by not carrying down his force together, which I shall endeavor to avoid." The affair thus became entirely indecisive; the English van was separated from the rear and got the brunt of the fight (C). One French authority blames Galissonière for not tacking to windward of the enemy's van and crushing it. Another says he ordered the movement, but that it could not be made from the damage to the rigging; but this seems improbable, as the only injury the French squadron underwent aloft was the loss of one topsail yard, whereas the English suffered very badly. The true reason is probably that given and approved by one of the French authorities on naval warfare. Galissonière considered the support of the land attack on Mahon paramount to any destruction of the English fleet, if he thereby exposed his own. "The French navy has always preferred the glory of assuring or preserving a conquest to that more brilliant perhaps, but actually less real, of taking some ships, and therein has approached more nearly the true end that has been proposed in war."[94] The justice of this conclusion depends upon the view that is taken of the true end of naval war. If it is merely to assure one or more positions ashore, the navy becomes simply a branch of the army for a particular occasion, and subordinates its action [288]accordingly; but if the true end is to preponderate over the enemy's navy and so control the sea, then the enemy's ships and fleets are the true objects to be assailed on all occasions. A glimmer of this view seems to have been present to Morogues when he wrote that at sea there is no field of battle to be held, nor places to be won. If naval warfare is a war of posts, then the action of the fleets must be subordinate to the attack and defence of the posts; if its object is to break up the enemy's power on the sea, cutting off his communications with the rest of his possessions, drying up the sources of his wealth in his commerce, and making possible a closure of his ports, then the object of attack must be his organized military forces afloat; in short, his navy. It is to the latter course, for whatever reason adopted, that England owed a control of the sea that forced the restitution of Minorca at the end of this war. It is to the former that France owed the lack of prestige in her navy. Take this very case of Minorca; had Galissonière been beaten, Richelieu and his fifteen thousand troops must have been lost to France, cooped up in Minorca, as the Spaniards, in 1718, were confined to Sicily. The French navy therefore assured the capture of the island; but so slight was the impression on the ministry and the public, that a French naval officer tells us: "Incredible as it may seem, the minister of marine, after the glorious affair off Mahon, instead of yielding to the zeal of an enlightened patriotism and profiting by the impulse which this victory gave to France to build up the navy, saw fit to sell the ships and rigging which we still had in our ports. We shall soon see the deplorable consequences of this cowardly conduct on the part of our statesmen."[95] Neither the glory nor the victory is very apparent; but it is quite conceivable that had the French admiral thought less of Mahon and used the great advantage luck had given him to take, or sink, four or five of the enemy, the French people would have anticipated the outbreak of naval enthusiasm which appeared too late, in 1760. During the remainder of this war the French fleets, [289]except in the East Indies, appear only as the pursued in a general chase.
The battle that followed is famous in history mainly because of the unique and tragic event that came from it. Unlike Matthews's battle off Toulon, it does provide some tactical lessons, although they're mostly relevant to the outdated methods of naval warfare; however, it is especially connected to the earlier action by the effect it had on the unfortunate Byng, influenced by the court-martial verdict against Matthews. Throughout the engagement, he frequently mentioned the criticism of that admiral for abandoning the line, and it seems he took that judgment as justification, if not a guide, for his own actions. In brief, it can be said that the two fleets, having spotted each other on the morning of May 20th, ended up after a series of maneuvers both on the port tack, with an easterly wind, heading south, the French to leeward, between the English fleet and the harbor. Byng moved forward in line ahead of the wind, while the French maintained their position, so when he signaled to engage, the fleets were not parallel but instead formed an angle of thirty to forty degrees (Plate VIIa. A, A). The attack Byng intended to make, where each ship would engage its counterpart in the enemy's line, was already challenging under any circumstances, and was further complicated by the significant distance between the two rears being much greater than that between the fronts; as a result, his entire line couldn't engage simultaneously. When the signal was raised, the leading ships adhered to it and charged toward the French almost head-on (B, B), which meant they largely sacrificed their artillery fire; they took three heavy broadsides and suffered serious damage above decks. The sixth English ship, counting from the front, had its foretopmast shot off, veered into the wind, and stalled, disrupting the rear of the line. At that moment, Byng, having already committed to the battle, should have taken the lead and pushed forward, just like Farragut did at Mobile when his line was thrown into disarray by the next ship ahead stopping; but according to the testimony of the flag-captain, Matthews's sentence held him back. "You see, Captain Gardiner, the signal for the line is out, and I’m ahead of the ships 'Louisa' and 'Trident' [which should have been in front of me]. You wouldn’t want me, as the admiral of the fleet, to rush in as if I was going to engage a single ship. Mr. Matthews suffered from not bringing his force down together, which I'm trying to avoid." Thus, the outcome became entirely inconclusive; the English front was separated from the rear and faced the brunt of the battle (C). One French source holds Galissonière responsible for not maneuvering to windward of the enemy’s front and crushing it. Another claims he ordered the maneuver, but it couldn’t be executed due to damage to the rigging; however, this seems unlikely, as the French squadron only lost one topsail yard, while the English suffered significantly. The real reason is probably what one of the French authorities on naval warfare stated. Galissonière believed that supporting the land attack on Mahon was more important than significantly damaging the English fleet if it risked exposing his own. "The French navy has always valued the glory of securing or preserving a conquest over the perhaps more dazzling but actually less substantive glory of capturing a few ships, staying true to the real objective of war." The validity of this conclusion hinges on one’s perspective on the ultimate goal of naval warfare. If it’s solely to secure one or more positions on land, the navy becomes just another branch of the army for that specific situation, limiting its actions accordingly; but if the true goal is to dominate the enemy's navy and consequently control the seas, the enemy’s ships and fleets become the primary targets at all times. A hint of this notion seemed to be present for Morogues when he wrote that at sea there is no territory to hold, nor locations to seize. If naval war functions as a struggle for positions, then the fleets' actions must be subordinate to attacking and defending those positions; whereas, if the aim is to diminish the enemy's maritime power, cut off its communication with its other possessions, drain its resources through commerce, and potentially close its ports, then the target must be its organized military forces at sea; basically, its navy. It was this latter approach, for whatever reason, that allowed England to gain control of the seas, which led to the return of Minorca at the end of this war. This is inversely related to France’s loss of prestige in its navy. Take the example of Minorca; had Galissonière been defeated, Richelieu and his fifteen thousand troops would have been lost to France, trapped in Minorca, just as the Spaniards were confined to Sicily in 1718. The French navy, therefore, ensured the capture of the island; yet, the impression left on the ministry and the public was so minimal that a French naval officer remarked: "Incredible as it may seem, the minister of marine, after the glorious event off Mahon, instead of embracing the zeal of an enlightened patriotism and seizing the momentum this victory gave to France to strengthen its navy, chose to sell off the ships and rigging we still had in our ports. We will soon witness the disastrous consequences of this cowardly behavior by our leaders." Neither the glory nor the victory seems very evident; however, it’s entirely possible that had the French admiral prioritized Mahon less and seized the great opportunity luck had given him to capture or sink four or five enemy ships, the French public would have been primed for the naval enthusiasm that emerged too late in 1760. During the rest of this war, the French fleets, except in the East Indies, mostly appeared as the ones being chased in a general pursuit.
The action imposed upon the French fleets was, however, consistent with the general policy of the French government; and John Clerk was probably right in saying that there is apparent in this action off Minorca a tactics too well defined to be merely accidental,—a tactics essentially defensive in its scope and aim.[96] In assuming the lee-gage the French admiral not only covered Mahon, but took a good defensive position, imposing upon his enemy the necessity of attacking with all the consequent risks. Clerk seems to bring evidence enough to prove that the leading French ships did, after roughly handling their assailants, astutely withdraw (C) thus forcing the latter to attack again with like results. The same policy was repeatedly followed during the American war twenty years later, and with pretty uniform success; so much so that, although formal avowal of the policy is wanting, it may be concluded that circumspection, economy, defensive war, remained the fixed purpose of the French authorities, based doubtless upon the reasons given by Admiral Grivel, of that navy:—
The actions taken by the French fleets were in line with the overall strategy of the French government; and John Clerk was likely correct in stating that there is a clear tactic evident in this action off Minorca—one that is fundamentally defensive in its goals and objectives.[96] By taking the lee-gage, the French admiral not only protected Mahon but also positioned himself well defensively, forcing his enemy to attack at great risk. Clerk appears to provide enough evidence to show that the leading French ships, after effectively dealing with their attackers, cleverly withdrew (C), thus compelling the enemy to launch another attack with similar outcomes. This same strategy was consistently applied during the American War two decades later, and with fairly consistent success; so much so that, although there is no formal acknowledgment of the strategy, it can be inferred that caution, resourcefulness, and defensive warfare remained the main focus of the French authorities, likely based on the reasoning provided by Admiral Grivel of that navy:—
"If two maritime powers are at strife, the one that has the fewest ships must always avoid doubtful engagements; it must run only those risks necessary for carrying out its missions, avoid action by manœuvring, or at worst, if forced to engage, assure itself of favorable conditions. The attitude to be taken should depend radically upon the power of your opponent. Let us not tire of repeating, according as she has to do with an inferior or superior power, France has before her two distinct strategies, radically opposite both in means and ends,—Grand War and Cruising War."
"If two maritime powers are in conflict, the one with fewer ships must always avoid uncertain battles; it should only take necessary risks to complete its missions, avoid confrontation by maneuvering, or, at worst, if forced to fight, ensure it has favorable conditions. The approach taken should fundamentally depend on the strength of your opponent. It’s important to emphasize that depending on whether it faces a weaker or stronger power, France has two very different strategies, completely opposite in both methods and goals—Grand War and Cruising War."
Such a formal utterance by an officer of rank must be received with respect, and the more so when it expresses a consistent policy followed by a great and warlike nation; yet it may be questioned whether a sea power worthy of the name can thus be secured. Logically, it follows from the position assumed, that combats between equal forces are to be [290]discouraged, because the loss to you is greater than the loss to your opponent. "In fact," says Ramatuelle, upholding the French policy, "of what consequence to the English would be the loss of a few ships?" But the next inevitable step in the argument is that it is better not to meet the enemy. As another Frenchman,[97] previously quoted, says, it was considered a mishap to their ships to fall in with a hostile force, and, if one was met, their duty was to avoid action if possible to do so honorably. They had ulterior objects of more importance than fighting the enemy's navy. Such a course cannot be consistently followed for years without affecting the spirit and tone of the officers charged with it; and it led directly to as brave a man as ever commanded a fleet, the Comte de Grasse, failing to crush the English under Rodney when he had the chance, in 1782. On the 9th of April of that year, being chased by the English among the Windward Islands, it happened to him to have sixteen of their fleet under his lee while the main body was becalmed under Dominica. Though greatly superior to the separated ships, during the three hours that this state of things lasted, De Grasse left them undisturbed, except by a distant cannonade by his own van; and his action was justified by the court which tried him, in which were many officers of high rank and doubtless of distinction, as being "an act of prudence on the part of the admiral, dictated to him by the ulterior projects of the cruise." Three days later he was signally beaten by the fleet he had failed to attack at disadvantage, and all the ulterior projects of the cruise went down with him.
Such a formal statement from a high-ranking officer should be respected, especially when it reflects a consistent policy from a powerful and aggressive nation. However, one might question whether a true sea power can be maintained this way. Logically, if you take this stance, it discourages battles between equal forces, since the loss to you would be greater than the loss to your opponent. "Honestly," says Ramatuelle, supporting the French policy, "what would the English really lose from a few ships?" But the unavoidable conclusion from this is that it’s better to avoid meeting the enemy. As another Frenchman, previously quoted, stated, it was seen as a misfortune for their ships to encounter hostile forces, and if they did, their duty was to avoid conflict if they could do so honorably. They had more important goals than battling the enemy's navy. This approach can't be sustained for years without impacting the mindset and morale of the officers responsible for it; it directly led to a brave man like the Comte de Grasse missing the chance to defeat the English under Rodney in 1782. On April 9th of that year, while being pursued by the English in the Windward Islands, he found himself with sixteen of their ships close by, while the main force was stuck under Dominica. Even though he had a significant advantage over the separated ships, for three hours he left them alone, aside from some distant cannon fire from his own front lines; his actions were later justified by the court that tried him, which included many high-ranking and distinguished officers, as a "prudent decision by the admiral, based on the broader objectives of the mission." Three days later, he was decisively defeated by the fleet he had failed to attack when he had the upper hand, and his broader objectives sank along with him.
To return to Minorca; after the action of the 20th, Byng called a council of war, which decided that nothing more could be done, and that the English fleet should go to Gibraltar and cover that place from an attack. At Gibraltar, Byng was relieved by Hawke and sent home to be tried. The court-martial, while expressly clearing him of cowardice or disaffection, found him guilty of not doing his utmost either to defeat the French fleet or to relieve the garrison at Mahon; [291]and, as the article of war prescribed death with no alternative punishment for this offence, it felt compelled to sentence him to death. The king refused to pardon, and Byng was accordingly shot.
To go back to Minorca: after the events on the 20th, Byng held a war council, which concluded that there was nothing more to be done and that the English fleet should head to Gibraltar to protect it from an attack. At Gibraltar, Byng was replaced by Hawke and sent back home to face trial. The court-martial, while clearing him of cowardice or disloyalty, found him guilty of not doing everything possible to either defeat the French fleet or to assist the garrison at Mahon; [291] and since the articles of war stipulated death as the only punishment for this offense, they felt they had no choice but to sentence him to death. The king refused to grant a pardon, and Byng was consequently executed.
The expedition against Minorca was begun while nominal peace still lasted. On the 17th of May, three days before Byng's battle, England declared war, and France replied on the 20th of June. On the 28th, Port Mahon surrendered, and Minorca passed into the hands of France.
The operation against Minorca started while a fragile peace was still in place. On May 17th, just three days before Byng's battle, England declared war, and France responded on June 20th. On the 28th, Port Mahon fell, and Minorca came under French control.
The nature of the troubles between the two nations, and the scenes where they occurred, pointed out clearly enough the proper theatre of the strife, and we should by rights now be at the opening of a sea war, illustrated by great naval actions and attended with great modifications in the colonial and foreign possessions of the two powers. Of the two, England alone recognized the truth; France was again turned aside from the sea by causes which will shortly be given. Her fleets scarcely appeared; and losing the control of the sea, she surrendered one by one her colonies and all her hopes in India. Later in the struggle she drew in Spain as her ally, but it was only to involve that country in her own external ruin. England, on the other hand, defended and nourished by the sea, rode it everywhere in triumph. Secure and prosperous at home, she supported with her money the enemies of France. At the end of seven years the kingdom of Great Britain had become the British Empire.
The issues between the two nations and the locations where they occurred clearly indicated the right stage for the conflict, and we should be on the verge of a naval war, marked by significant battles and major changes in the colonies and territories of both powers. Of the two, only England recognized the reality; France once again turned away from the sea for reasons that will soon be explained. Her fleets rarely showed up, and by losing control of the sea, she gradually lost her colonies and all her ambitions in India. Later in the conflict, she brought Spain in as an ally, but that only dragged Spain into her own downfall. England, on the other hand, supported and thrived thanks to the sea, gaining victories everywhere. Safe and thriving at home, she used her wealth to back France’s enemies. By the end of seven years, Great Britain had transformed into the British Empire.
It is far from certain that France could have successfully contended with England on the sea, without an ally. In 1756 the French navy had sixty-three ships-of-the-line, of which forty-five were in fair condition; but equipments and artillery were deficient. Spain had forty-six ships-of-the-line; but from the previous and subsequent performances of the Spanish navy, it may well be doubted if its worth were equal to its numbers. England at this time had one hundred and thirty ships-of-the-line; four years later she had one hundred and twenty actually in commission. Of course when a nation allows its inferiority, whether on land or sea, to become [292]as great as that of France now was, it cannot hope for success.
It’s certainly questionable whether France could have effectively challenged England at sea without an ally. In 1756, the French navy had sixty-three ships-of-the-line, with forty-five in decent condition; however, their equipment and artillery were lacking. Spain had forty-six ships-of-the-line, but given the previous and subsequent performances of the Spanish navy, it's reasonable to doubt whether their capability matched their numbers. At that time, England had one hundred and thirty ships-of-the-line, and four years later, she had one hundred and twenty actually active. Clearly, when a country allows its inferiority, whether on land or sea, to become [292] as significant as France's was during that period, it can’t expect to succeed.
Nevertheless, she obtained advantages at first. The conquest of Minorca was followed in November of the same year by the acquisition of Corsica. The republic of Genoa surrendered to France all the fortified harbors of the island. With Toulon, Corsica, and Port Mahon, she now had a strong grip on the Mediterranean. In Canada, the operations of 1756, under Montcalm, were successful despite the inferiority of numbers. At the same time an attack by a native prince in India took from the English Calcutta, and gave an opportunity to the French.
However, she initially gained advantages. The conquest of Minorca was quickly followed in November of that year by the acquisition of Corsica. The republic of Genoa surrendered all the fortified ports on the island to France. With Toulon, Corsica, and Port Mahon, she now had a strong hold on the Mediterranean. In Canada, the operations in 1756, led by Montcalm, were successful despite being outnumbered. Meanwhile, an attack by a native prince in India resulted in the English losing Calcutta, giving the French an opportunity.
Yet another incident offered a handle for French statesmanship to strengthen her position on the ocean. The Dutch had promised France not to renew their alliance with England, but to remain neutral. England retaliated by declaring "all the ports of France in a state of blockade, and all vessels bound to those ports liable to seizure as lawful prize." Such a violation of the rights of neutrals can only be undertaken by a nation that feels it has nothing to fear from their rising against it. The aggressiveness, born of the sense of power, which characterized England might have been used by France to draw Spain and possibly other States into alliance against her.
Another incident provided French leadership with a way to strengthen its position at sea. The Dutch had assured France that they would not renew their alliance with England and would remain neutral. In response, England declared "all the ports of France in a state of blockade, and all vessels bound to those ports liable to seizure as lawful prize." Such a violation of neutral rights can only be committed by a nation that believes it has nothing to fear from those it oppresses. The aggressiveness, stemming from a feeling of power, that characterized England could have been leveraged by France to bring Spain and possibly other nations into an alliance against it.
Instead of concentrating against England, France began another continental war, this time with a new and extraordinary alliance. The Empress of Austria, working on the religious superstitions of the king and upon the anger of the king's mistress, who was piqued at sarcasms uttered against her by Frederick the Great, drew France into an alliance with Austria against Prussia. This alliance was further joined by Russia, Sweden and Poland. The empress urged that the two Roman Catholic powers should unite to take Silesia away from a Protestant king, and expressed her willingness to give to France a part of her possessions in the Netherlands, which France had always desired.
Instead of focusing on England, France kicked off another continental war, this time with a new and unique alliance. The Empress of Austria, tapping into the king's religious beliefs and the anger of his mistress, who was offended by Frederick the Great's jabs at her, pulled France into an alliance with Austria against Prussia. Russia, Sweden, and Poland also joined this alliance. The empress suggested that the two Roman Catholic powers should team up to take Silesia from the Protestant king, and she offered to give France part of her territories in the Netherlands, which France had always wanted.
Frederick the Great, learning the combination against him, [293]instead of waiting for it to develop, put his armies in motion and invaded Saxony, whose ruler was also King of Poland. This movement, in October, 1756, began the Seven Years' War; which, like the War of the Austrian Succession, but not to the same extent, drew some of the contestants off from the original cause of difference. But while France, having already on hand one large quarrel with her neighbor across the Channel, was thus needlessly entering upon another struggle, with the avowed end of building up that Austrian empire which a wiser policy had long striven to humble, England this time saw clearly where her true interests lay. Making the continental war wholly subsidiary, she turned her efforts upon the sea and the colonies; at the same time supporting Frederick both with money and cordial sympathy in the war for the defence of his kingdom, which so seriously diverted and divided the efforts of France. England thus had really but one war on hand. In the same year the direction of the struggle was taken from the hands of a weak ministry and given into those of the bold and ardent William Pitt, who retained his office till 1761, by which time the ends of the war had practically been secured.
Frederick the Great, realizing that a coalition was forming against him, [293] instead of waiting for it to fully develop, mobilized his armies and invaded Saxony, whose leader was also King of Poland. This action in October 1756 marked the beginning of the Seven Years' War; similar to the War of the Austrian Succession, but to a lesser degree, it distracted some of the players from the original cause of conflict. While France, already involved in a significant dispute with its neighbor across the Channel, unnecessarily engaged in another conflict with the stated goal of strengthening the Austrian empire—a goal that wiser policies had long sought to undermine—England recognized where its true interests lay. Viewing the continental war as secondary, England focused its efforts on naval power and its colonies while also supporting Frederick with financial aid and genuine support in his struggle to defend his kingdom, which effectively distracted and divided France's efforts. Thus, England essentially had only one war to contend with. In the same year, the direction of the conflict shifted from a weak administration to the hands of the bold and passionate William Pitt, who held his position until 1761, by which time the objectives of the war had mostly been achieved.
In the attack upon Canada there were two principal lines to be chosen,—that by the way of Lake Champlain, and that by the way of the St. Lawrence. The former was entirely inland, and as such does not concern our subject, beyond noting that not till after the fall of Quebec, in 1759, was it fairly opened to the English. In 1757 the attempt against Louisburg failed; the English admiral being unwilling to engage sixteen ships-of-the-line he found there, with the fifteen under his own command, which were also, he said, of inferior metal. Whether he was right in his decision or not, the indignation felt in England clearly shows the difference of policy underlying the action of the French and English governments. The following year an admiral of a higher spirit, Boscawen, was sent out accompanied with twelve thousand troops, and, it must in fairness be said, found only five ships in the port. The troops were landed, while the fleet [294]covered the siege from the only molestation it could fear, and cut off from the besieged the only line by which they could look for supplies. The island fell in 1758, opening the way by the St. Lawrence to the heart of Canada, and giving the English a new base both for the fleet and army.
In the attack on Canada, there were two main routes to choose from—one through Lake Champlain and the other via the St. Lawrence River. The first route was entirely inland, and it doesn’t pertain to our topic, except to mention that it wasn’t fully opened to the English until after the fall of Quebec in 1759. In 1757, the attempt to capture Louisburg failed because the English admiral was reluctant to engage the sixteen ships-of-the-line he encountered there, along with the fifteen under his command, which he claimed were also of lesser quality. Whether he was right in his choice or not, the outrage in England clearly indicates the differing policies behind the actions of the French and English governments. The following year, a more determined admiral, Boscawen, was sent with twelve thousand troops, and it should be noted that he only found five ships in the port. The troops were landed while the fleet [294] protected the siege from any potential threats and cut off the besieged from their only supply route. The island fell in 1758, opening the way through the St. Lawrence to the heart of Canada and providing the English with a new base for both their fleet and army.
The next year the expedition under Wolfe was sent against Quebec. All his operations were based upon the fleet, which not only carried his army to the spot, but moved up and down the river as the various feints required. The landing which led to the decisive action was made directly from the ships. Montcalm, whose skill and determination had blocked the attacks by way of Lake Champlain the two previous years, had written urgently for reinforcements; but they were refused by the minister of war, who replied that in addition to other reasons it was too probable that the English would intercept them on the way, and that the more France sent, the more England would be moved to send. In a word, the possession of Canada depended upon sea power.
The following year, Wolfe's expedition was sent to Quebec. All his operations relied on the fleet, which not only transported his army to the location but also moved up and down the river as needed. The landing that led to the decisive battle happened directly from the ships. Montcalm, whose skill and determination had successfully blocked attacks from Lake Champlain in the previous two years, had urgently requested reinforcements; however, the war minister denied the request, stating that, among other reasons, it was likely the English would intercept them on the way, and that the more France sent, the more England would feel compelled to respond. In short, Canada’s control depended on naval power.
Montcalm, therefore, in view of the certain attack upon Quebec by the river, was compelled to weaken his resistance on the Champlain route; nevertheless, the English did not get farther than the foot of the lake that year, and their operations, though creditable, had no effect upon the result at Quebec.
Montcalm, faced with the inevitable attack on Quebec from the river, had to reduce his defenses along the Champlain route; however, the English did not advance beyond the foot of the lake that year, and their efforts, while commendable, did not impact the outcome in Quebec.
In 1760, the English, holding the course of the St. Lawrence, with Louisburg at one end and Quebec at the other, seemed firmly seated. Nevertheless, the French governor, De Vaudreuil, still held out at Montreal, and the colonists still hoped for help from France. The English garrison at Quebec, though inferior in numbers to the forces of the Canadians, was imprudent enough to leave the city and meet them in the open field. Defeated there, and pursued by the enemy, the latter nearly entered Quebec pell-mell with the English troops, and trenches were opened against the city. A few days later an English squadron came in sight, and the place was relieved. "Thus," says the old English chronicler of the navy, "the enemy saw what it was to be inferior at sea; [295]for, had a French squadron got the start of the English in sailing up the river, Quebec must have fallen." Wholly cut off now, the little body of Frenchmen that remained in Montreal was surrounded by three English armies, which had come, one by way of Lake Champlain, the others from Oswego and from Quebec. The surrender of the city on the 8th of September, 1760, put an end forever to the French possession of Canada.
In 1760, the English controlled the St. Lawrence River, with Louisburg on one end and Quebec on the other, seeming to have a solid hold. However, the French governor, De Vaudreuil, was still holding out in Montreal, and the colonists were hopeful for assistance from France. The English garrison in Quebec, despite being outnumbered by the Canadian forces, foolishly decided to leave the city and confront them in open battle. After being defeated and chased by the enemy, the French nearly entered Quebec alongside the retreating English troops, and trenches were dug around the city. A few days later, an English squadron appeared, and the city was saved. "Thus," says the old English chronicler of the navy, "the enemy saw what it was like to be weak at sea; [295] because if a French squadron had sailed up the river before the English, Quebec would have fallen." Now completely isolated, the small group of French remaining in Montreal was encircled by three English armies coming from Lake Champlain, Oswego, and Quebec. The city's surrender on September 8, 1760, marked the end of French control over Canada.
In all other quarters of the world, after the accession of Pitt to power, the same good fortune followed the English arms, checkered only at the first by some slight reverses. It was not so on the continent, where the heroism and skill of Frederick the Great maintained with difficulty his brilliant struggle against France, Austria, and Russia. The study of the difficulties of his position, of the military and political combinations attending it, do not belong to our subject. Sea power does not appear directly in its effects upon the struggle, but indirectly it was felt in two ways,—first, by the subsidies which the abundant wealth and credit of England enabled her to give Frederick, in whose thrifty and able hands they went far; and second, in the embarrassment caused to France by the attacks of England upon her colonies and her own sea-coast, in the destruction of her commerce, and in the money—all too little, it is true, and grudgingly given—which France was forced to bestow on her navy. Stung by the constant lashing of the Power of the sea, France, despite the blindness and unwillingness of the rulers, was driven to undertake something against it. With a navy much inferior, unable to cope in all quarters of the world, it was rightly decided to concentrate upon one object; and the object chosen was Great Britain itself, whose shores were to be invaded. This decision, soon apprehended by the fears of the English nation, caused the great naval operations to centre for some years around the coast of France and in the Channel. Before describing them, it will be well to sum up the general plan by which England was guided in the use of her overwhelming sea power.
In every other part of the world, after Pitt came to power, English forces enjoyed similar success, only briefly interrupted by some minor setbacks. However, it was a different story on the continent, where Frederick the Great struggled valiantly against France, Austria, and Russia with great effort. Analyzing the challenges he faced and the military and political strategies involved isn’t our focus here. The impact of naval power on the conflict wasn't direct, but it was felt in two key ways: first, through the financial support that England's wealth and credit allowed her to provide to Frederick, which he managed wisely; and second, from the difficulties France experienced due to England's attacks on her colonies and coastline, which disrupted her trade and forced her to spend too little and rather reluctantly on her navy. Provoked by the relentless might of the sea, France, despite the blindness and reluctance of its leaders, was compelled to take action against it. With a navy significantly weaker and unable to compete globally, it was wisely decided to focus on one target: Great Britain itself, with plans for a coastal invasion. This decision, quickly sensed by the anxieties of the English public, led to significant naval activities concentrated around the French coast and in the Channel for several years. Before going into detail about these operations, it’s useful to summarize the overall strategy that guided England in utilizing her dominant naval power.
[296]Besides the operations on the North American continent already described, this plan was fourfold:—
[296]In addition to the operations on the North American continent already mentioned, this plan had four main parts:—
1. The French Atlantic ports were watched in force, especially Brest, so as to keep the great fleets or small squadrons from getting out without fighting.
1. The French Atlantic ports, especially Brest, were closely monitored to prevent the large fleets or small squadrons from leaving without a fight.
2. Attacks were made upon the Atlantic and Channel coasts with flying squadrons, followed at times by the descent of small bodies of troops. These attacks, the direction of which could not be foreseen by the enemy, were chiefly intended to compel him to keep on hand forces at many points, and so to diminish the army acting against the King of Prussia. While the tendency would certainly be that way, it may be doubted whether the actual diversion in favor of Frederick was of much consequence. No particular mention will be made of these operations, which had but little visible effect upon the general course of the war.
2. Attacks were launched on the Atlantic and Channel coasts with air squads, sometimes followed by small groups of troops landing. These attacks, which the enemy couldn’t predict, were mainly meant to force him to keep troops stationed at various points, thereby reducing the army fighting against the King of Prussia. While this might have been the intended outcome, it’s questionable whether the actual diversion benefited Frederick much. No specific details will be provided about these operations, as they had little noticeable impact on the overall progression of the war.
3. A fleet was kept in the Mediterranean and near Gibraltar to prevent the French Toulon fleet from getting round to the Atlantic. It does not appear that any attempt was seriously made to stop communications between France and Minorca. The action of the Mediterranean fleet, though an independent command, was subsidiary to that in the Atlantic.
3. A fleet was stationed in the Mediterranean and near Gibraltar to stop the French Toulon fleet from reaching the Atlantic. It doesn’t seem like there was a serious effort to block communications between France and Minorca. The actions of the Mediterranean fleet, although independently commanded, were secondary to those in the Atlantic.
4. Distant foreign expeditions were sent against the French colonies in the West India Islands and on the coast of Africa, and a squadron was maintained in the East Indies to secure the control of those seas, thereby supporting the English in the Peninsula, and cutting off the communications of the French. These operations in distant waters, never intermitted, assumed greater activity and larger proportions after the destruction of the French navy had relieved England from the fear of invasion, and when the ill-advised entrance of Spain into the war, in 1762, offered yet richer prizes to her enterprise.
4. Distant foreign expeditions were launched against the French colonies in the West Indies and along the coast of Africa, and a fleet was kept in the East Indies to ensure control of those waters, thereby supporting the English in the Peninsula and disrupting French communications. These operations in far-off seas, never-ending, became more active and extensive after the destruction of the French navy had freed England from the threat of invasion, and when Spain's poor decision to enter the war in 1762 presented even more lucrative opportunities for their missions.
The close blockade of the enemy's fleet in Brest, which was first systematically carried out during this war, may be considered rather a defensive than an offensive operation; for [297]though the intention certainly was to fight if opportunity offered, the chief object was to neutralize an offensive weapon in the enemy's hands; the destruction of the weapon was secondary. The truth of this remark is shown by the outburst of fear and anger which swept over England when an unavoidable absence of the blockading fleet in 1759 allowed the French to escape. The effect of the blockade in this and after wars was to keep the French in a state of constant inferiority in the practical handling of their ships, however fair-showing their outward appearance or equal their numerical force. The position of the port of Brest was such that a blockaded fleet could not get out during the heavy westerly gales that endangered the blockaders; the latter, therefore, had the habit of running away from them to Torbay or Plymouth, sure, with care, of getting back to their station with an east wind before a large and ill-handled fleet could get much start of them.
The tight blockade of the enemy's fleet in Brest, which was first systematically used during this war, can be seen more as a defensive move than an offensive one; for [297]while the goal was definitely to engage in battle if the opportunity arose, the main objective was to neutralize a dangerous threat in the enemy's arsenal; destroying that threat was a secondary concern. This point is demonstrated by the wave of fear and anger that swept across England when an unavoidable absence of the blockading fleet in 1759 allowed the French to escape. The impact of the blockade in this and later wars was to keep the French in a state of constant inferiority in terms of effectively managing their ships, no matter how good they looked or how many they had. The location of the port of Brest was such that a blockaded fleet couldn’t get out during the intense westerly storms that threatened the blockaders; therefore, the blockaders often chose to retreat to Torbay or Plymouth, confident that, with careful planning, they could return to their position with an east wind before a large and poorly managed fleet could gain much of a head start.
In the latter part of 1758, France, depressed by the sense of failure upon the continent, mortified and harassed by English descents upon her coasts, which had been particularly annoying that year, and seeing that it was not possible to carry on both the continental and sea wars with her money resources, determined to strike directly at England. Her commerce was annihilated while the enemy's throve. It was the boast of London merchants that under Pitt commerce was united with and made to flourish by war;[98] and this thriving commerce was the soul also of the land struggle, by the money it lavished on the enemy of France.
In late 1758, France, feeling defeated on the continent and frustrated by English attacks on her shores, which had been especially bothersome that year, realized it couldn’t manage both land and naval wars with its financial resources. So, it decided to go directly after England. Its trade was destroyed while the enemy’s prospered. London merchants proudly claimed that under Pitt, commerce thrived alongside war; and this booming trade was also the lifeblood of the land struggle, thanks to the money it provided to France's enemies.
At this time a new and active-minded minister, Choiseul, was called into power by Louis XV. From the beginning of 1759, preparations were made in the ocean and Channel ports. Flat-boats to transport troops were built at Havre, Dunkirk, Brest, and Rochefort. It was intended to embark as many as fifty thousand men for the invasion of England, while twelve thousand were to be directed upon Scotland. Two squadrons were fitted out, each of respectable strength, [298]one at Toulon, the other at Brest. The junction of these two squadrons at Brest was the first step in the great enterprise.
At this time, a new and proactive minister, Choiseul, was appointed by Louis XV. Starting in early 1759, preparations were underway at the ocean and Channel ports. Flat boats for transporting troops were built in Havre, Dunkirk, Brest, and Rochefort. The goal was to send as many as fifty thousand men to invade England, while twelve thousand were targeted for Scotland. Two squadrons were assembled, each with considerable strength, [298] one based in Toulon and the other in Brest. The merging of these two squadrons at Brest was the first step in this major initiative.
It was just here that it broke down, through the possession of Gibraltar by the English, and their naval superiority. It seems incredible that even the stern and confident William Pitt should, as late as 1757, have offered to surrender to Spain the watch-tower from which England overlooks the road between the Mediterranean and the Atlantic, as the price of her help to recover Minorca. Happily for England, Spain refused. In 1759, Admiral Boscawen commanded the English Mediterranean fleet. In making an attack upon French frigates in Toulon roads, some of his ships were so damaged that he sailed with his whole squadron to Gibraltar to refit; taking the precaution, however, to station lookout frigates at intervals, and to arrange signals by guns to notify him betimes of the enemy's approach. Taking advantage of his absence, and in obedience to orders, the French commodore, De la Clue, left Toulon with twelve ships-of-the-line on the 5th of August, and on the 17th found himself at the Straits of Gibraltar, with a brisk east wind carrying him out into the Atlantic. Everything seemed propitious, a thick haze and falling night concealing the French ships from the land, while not preventing their sight of each other, when an English frigate loomed up in the near distance. As soon as she saw the fleet, knowing they must be enemies, she hauled in for the land and began firing signal-guns. Pursuit was useless; flight alone remained. Hoping to elude the chase he knew must follow, the French commodore steered west-northwest for the open sea, putting out all lights; but either from carelessness or disaffection,—for the latter is hinted by one French naval officer,—five out of the twelve ships headed to the northward and put into Cadiz when on the following morning they could not see the commodore. The latter was dismayed when at daylight he saw his forces thus diminished. At eight o'clock some sails made their appearance, and for a few minutes he hoped they were the [299]missing ships. Instead of that, they were the lookouts of Boscawen's fleet, which, numbering fourteen ships-of-the-line, was in full pursuit. The French formed their order on one of the close-hauled lines, and fled; but of course their fleet-speed was less than that of the fastest English ships. The general rule for all chases where the pursuer is decidedly superior, namely, that order must be observed only so far as to keep the leading ships within reasonable supporting distance of the slower ones, so that they may not be singly overpowered before the latter can come up, was by this time well understood in the English navy, and that is certainly the fitting time for a mélêe. Boscawen acted accordingly. The rear ship of the French, on the other hand, nobly emulated the example of L'Étenduère when he saved his convoy. Overtaken at two o'clock by the leading English ship, and soon after surrounded by four others, her captain made for five hours a desperate resistance, from which he could hope, not to save himself, but to delay the enemies long enough for the better sailers to escape. He so far succeeded that—thanks to the injury done by him and their better speed—they did that day escape action at close quarters, which could only have ended in their capture. When he hauled down his flag, his three topmasts were gone, the mizzen-mast fell immediately after, and the hull was so full of water that the ship was with difficulty kept afloat. M. de Sabran—his name is worthy to be remembered—had received eleven wounds in this gallant resistance, by which he illustrated so signally the duty and service of a rearguard in retarding pursuit. That night two of the French ships hauled off to the westward, and so escaped. The other four continued their flight as before; but the next morning the commodore, despairing of escape, headed for the Portuguese coast, and ran them all ashore between Lagos and Cape St. Vincent. The English admiral followed and attacked them, taking two and burning the others, without regard to the neutrality of Portugal. For this insult no amend was made beyond a formal apology; Portugal was too dependent upon England to be seriously [300]considered. Pitt, writing to the English minister to Portugal about the affair, told him that while soothing the susceptibilities of the Portuguese government he must not allow it to suppose that either the ships would be given up or the distinguished admiral censured.[99]
It was right here that things fell apart, due to the English control of Gibraltar and their dominance at sea. It's hard to believe that even the tough and self-assured William Pitt would, as late as 1757, have offered to hand over the watchtower from which England views the sea route between the Mediterranean and the Atlantic in exchange for Spain’s help to reclaim Minorca. Fortunately for England, Spain said no. In 1759, Admiral Boscawen was in charge of the English Mediterranean fleet. While attacking French frigates in Toulon, some of his ships were damaged, so he sailed his entire squadron to Gibraltar to repair them. He took precautions by placing lookout frigates at intervals and organizing signals by gunfire to alert him in advance of any enemy approach. Taking advantage of his absence, and following orders, French commodore De la Clue left Toulon with twelve ships-of-the-line on August 5th. By the 17th, he found himself at the Straits of Gibraltar, with a strong east wind pushing him into the Atlantic. Everything seemed favorable; a thick haze and falling night concealed the French ships from land, while allowing them to see each other. Then, an English frigate appeared in the near distance. As soon as she spotted the fleet, realizing they were enemies, she made for the land and began firing signal guns. Pursuit was pointless; only escape was left. Hoping to dodge the inevitable chase, the French commodore sailed west-northwest into the open sea, extinguishing all lights. However, either due to negligence or betrayal, as suggested by one French naval officer, five out of the twelve ships veered north and headed to Cadiz when they couldn’t see the commodore the next morning. The commodore was disheartened when daylight revealed his diminished forces. At eight o’clock, some sails appeared, and for a moment he hoped they were the missing ships. Instead, they were the lookout ships from Boscawen’s fleet, which were now in full pursuit. The French formed their order on a close-hauled line and fled, but naturally, their fleet speed was slower than that of the fastest English ships. The general rule in chases where the pursuer is clearly superior was well understood by the English navy by this time—that order only needs to be maintained to keep the leading ships within reasonable support distance of the slower ones, so they wouldn’t be overwhelmed before help arrived. Boscawen acted accordingly. The rear ship of the French fleet bravely followed the example of L'Étenduère when he saved his convoy. Overtaken by the leading English ship at two o'clock and soon surrounded by four others, her captain put up a fierce resistance for five hours, hoping not to save himself, but to delay the enemies long enough for the faster ships to escape. He succeeded to some extent—thanks to the damage he inflicted and their better speed—so they managed to avoid close combat that day, which would have likely led to their capture. When he finally lowered his flag, three of his topmasts were gone, the mizzen-mast fell right after, and the hull was so flooded that the ship was barely kept afloat. M. de Sabran—his name deserves to be remembered—sustained eleven wounds during this brave resistance, clearly demonstrating the duty and mission of a rearguard in slowing down pursuit. That night, two of the French ships turned west and escaped. The other four continued their flight as before, but the next morning, the commodore, despairing of escape, headed for the Portuguese coast and ran them all ashore between Lagos and Cape St. Vincent. The English admiral followed and attacked them, capturing two and burning the others, disregarding Portugal's neutrality. For this insult, only a formal apology was offered as compensation; Portugal was too reliant on England to be taken seriously. Pitt, in a letter to the English minister in Portugal about the incident, advised him to reassure the sensitivities of the Portuguese government while ensuring they did not believe that either the ships would be returned or the distinguished admiral would be criticized.
The destruction or dispersal of the Toulon fleet stopped the invasion of England, though the five ships that got into Cadiz remained a matter of anxiety to Sir Edward Hawke, who cruised before Brest. Choiseul, balked of his main object, still clung to the invasion of Scotland. The French fleet at Brest, under Marshal de Conflans, a sea officer despite his title, numbered twenty sail-of-the-line, besides frigates. The troops to be embarked are variously stated at fifteen to twenty thousand. The original purpose was to escort the transports with only five ships-of-the-line, besides smaller vessels. Conflans insisted that the whole fleet ought to go. The minister of the navy thought that the admiral was not a sufficiently skilful tactician to be able to check the advance of an enemy, and so insure the safe arrival of the convoy at its destination near the Clyde without risking a decisive encounter. Believing therefore that there would be a general action, he considered that it would be better to fight it before the troops sailed; for if disastrous, the convoy would not be sacrificed, and if decisively victorious, the road would then be clear. The transports were assembled, not at Brest, but in the ports to the southward as far as the mouth of the Loire. The French fleet therefore put to sea with the expectation and purpose of fighting the enemy; but it is not easy to reconcile its subsequent course with that purpose, nor with the elaborate fighting instructions[100] issued by the admiral before sailing.
The destruction or scattering of the Toulon fleet halted the invasion of England, although the five ships that made it to Cadiz continued to worry Sir Edward Hawke, who was patrolling off Brest. Choiseul, frustrated by his main goal being thwarted, still aimed to invade Scotland. The French fleet at Brest, commanded by Marshal de Conflans, who was a naval officer despite his title, consisted of twenty line ships, along with frigates. The number of troops to be transported was reported to be between fifteen to twenty thousand. The original plan was to escort the transports with just five line ships and smaller vessels. Conflans argued that the entire fleet should set sail. The navy minister believed the admiral wasn't skilled enough to prevent an enemy advance and ensure the safe arrival of the convoy near the Clyde without risking a major battle. Therefore, thinking there would be a large confrontation, he thought it better to fight before the troops departed; if the battle was lost, the convoy wouldn't be sacrificed, and if it was a decisive win, the path would be clear. The transports were gathered not at Brest but at ports further south, up to the mouth of the Loire. Consequently, the French fleet set sail with the expectation and intention of engaging the enemy; however, it's hard to reconcile its actions afterward with that goal, or with the detailed combat orders[100] issued by the admiral before departure.
About the 5th or 6th of November there came on a tremendous westerly gale. After buffeting it for three days, Hawke bore up and ran into Torbay, where he waited for the wind to shift, keeping his fleet in readiness to sail at once. The [301]same gale, while keeping back the French already in Brest, gave the chance to a small squadron under M. Bompart, which was expected from the West Indies, to slip in during Hawke's absence. Conflans made his preparations with activity, distributed Bompart's crews among his own ships, which were not very well manned, and got to sea with an easterly wind on the 14th. He stood at once to the southward, flattering himself that he had escaped Hawke. The latter, however, had sailed from Torbay on the 12th; and though again driven back, sailed a second time on the 14th, the same day that Conflans left Brest. He soon readied his station, learned that the enemy had been seen to the southward steering east, and easily concluding that they were bound to Quiberon Bay, shaped his own course for the same place under a press of sail. At eleven P.M. of the 19th the French admiral estimated his position to be seventy miles southwest by west from Belle Isle;[101] and the wind springing up fresh from the westward, he stood for it under short sail, the wind continuing to increase and hauling to west-northwest. At daybreak several ships were seen ahead, which proved to be the English squadron of Commodore Duff, blockading Quiberon. The signal was made to chase; and the English, taking flight, separated into two divisions,—one going off before the wind, the other hauling up to the southward. The greater part of the French fleet continued its course after the former division, that is, toward the coast; but one ship hauled up for the second. Immediately after, the rear French ships made signal of sails to windward, which were also visible from aloft on board the flag-ship. It must have been about the same moment that the lookout frigate in advance of the English fleet informed her admiral of sails to leeward. Hawke's diligence had brought him up with Conflans, who, in his official reports, says he had considered it impossible that the enemy could have in that neighborhood forces superior or even equal to his own. Conflans now ordered his rear division to haul its wind in support of the ship chasing to the southward and [302]eastward. In a few moments more it was discovered that the fleet to windward numbered twenty-three ships-of-the-line to the French twenty-one, and among them some three-deckers. Conflans then called in the chasing ships and got ready for action. It remained to settle his course under circumstances which he had not foreseen. It was now blowing hard from the west-northwest, with every appearance of heavy weather, the fleet not far from a lee shore, with an enemy considerably superior in numbers; for besides Hawke's twenty-three of the line, Duff had four fifty-gun ships. Conflans therefore determined to run for it and lead his squadron into Quiberon Bay, trusting and believing that Hawke would not dare to follow, under the conditions of the weather, into a bay which French authorities describe as containing banks and shoals, and lined with reefs which the navigator rarely sees without fright and never passes without emotion. It was in the midst of these ghastly dangers that forty-four large ships were about to engage pell-mell; for the space was too contracted for fleet manœuvres. Conflans flattered himself that he would get in first and be able to haul up close under the western shore of the bay, forcing the enemy, if he followed, to take position between him and the beach, six miles to leeward. None of his expectations were fulfilled. In the retreat he took the head of his fleet; a step not unjustifiable, since only by leading in person could he have shown just what he wanted to do, but unfortunate for his reputation with the public, as it placed the admiral foremost in the flight. Hawke was not in the least, nor for one moment, deterred by the dangers before him, whose full extent he, as a skilful seaman, entirely realized; but his was a calm and steadfast as well as a gallant temper, that weighed risks justly, neither dissembling nor exaggerating. He has not left us his reasoning, but he doubtless felt that the French, leading, would serve partially as pilots, and must take the ground before him; he believed the temper and experience of his officers, tried by the severe school of the blockade, to be superior to those of the French; and he knew that both the government [303]and the country demanded that the enemy's fleet should not reach another friendly port in safety. On the very day that he was thus following the French, amid dangers and under conditions that have made this one of the most dramatic of sea fights, he was being burnt in effigy in England for allowing them to escape. As Conflans, leading his fleet, was rounding the Cardinals,—as the southernmost rocks at the entrance of Quiberon Bay are called,—the leading English ships brought the French rear to action. It was another case of a general chase ending in a mêlée, but under conditions of exceptional interest and grandeur from the surrounding circumstances of the gale of wind, the heavy sea, the lee shore, the headlong speed, shortened canvas, and the great number of ships engaged. One French seventy-four, closely pressed and outnumbered, ventured to open her lower-deck ports; the sea sweeping in carried her down with all on board but twenty men. Another was sunk by the fire of Hawke's flag-ship. Two others, one of which carried a commodore's pennant, struck their colors. The remainder were dispersed. Seven fled to the northward and eastward, and anchored off the mouth of the little river Vilaine, into which they succeeded in entering at the top of high water in two tides,—a feat never before performed. Seven others took refuge to the southward and eastward in Rochefort. One, after being very badly injured, ran ashore and was lost near the mouth of the Loire. The flag-ship bearing the same name as that of Tourville burned at La Hougue, the "Royal Sun," anchored at nightfall off Croisic, a little to the northward of the Loire, where she rode in safety during the night. The next morning the admiral found himself alone, and, somewhat precipitately it would seem, ran the ship ashore to keep her out of English hands. This step has been blamed by the French, but needlessly, as Hawke would never have let her get away. The great French fleet was annihilated; for the fourteen ships not taken or destroyed were divided into two parts, and those in the Vilaine only succeeded in escaping, two at a time, between fifteen months and two years later. The [304]English lost two ships which ran upon a shoal (a), and were hopelessly wrecked; their losses in action were slight. At nightfall Hawke anchored his fleet and prizes in the position shown in the plate (b).
About November 5th or 6th, a powerful westerly gale hit. After struggling against it for three days, Hawkeadjusted course and headed into Torbay, where he waited for the wind to change, keeping his fleet ready to sail immediately. The same gale, while holding back the French already in Brest, allowed a small squadron under M. Bompart, expected from the West Indies, to slip in during Hawke's absence. Conflans quickly made preparations, distributed Bompart's crews among his own under-manned ships, and set out with an easterly wind on the 14th. He aimed south, thinking he had evaded Hawke. However, Hawke had left Torbay on the 12th; though pushed back again, he set sail a second time on the 14th, the same day Conflans departed Brest. He soon got to his position, learned that the enemy had been seen to the south heading east, and easily concluded they were headed to Quiberon Bay, adjusting his course to follow them with full sails. At 11 PM on the 19th, the French admiral estimated his position to be seventy miles southwest by west from Belle Isle; and as the wind picked up fresh from the west, he moved forward under short sail, with the wind increasing and shifting to west-northwest. At dawn, several ships were spotted ahead, which turned out to be the English squadron led by Commodore Duff, blockading Quiberon. The signal was made to give chase; the English fled, splitting into two divisions—one heading off before the wind, the other moving southward. Most of the French fleet chased the first division, heading toward the coast, while one ship pursued the second. Shortly after, the rear French ships signaled sails to windward, which were also seen from the flag-ship. It must have been around the same time that the lookout frigate in front of the English fleet informed her admiral of sails to leeward. Hawke's diligence brought him in range of Conflans, who, in his official reports, stated he believed it was impossible for the enemy to have forces equal or superior to his own in that area. Conflans then ordered his rear division to change course to support the ship chasing to the southward and eastward. Moments later, it was discovered that the fleet to windward included twenty-three ships-of-the-line compared to the French's twenty-one, several of which were three-deckers. Conflans then recalled the chasing ships and prepared for battle. He needed to decide on a course of action under circumstances he hadn’t anticipated. It was now blowing hard from the west-northwest, with signs of rough weather, the fleet close to a lee shore, and an enemy significantly outnumbering him; besides Hawke's twenty-three ships of the line, Duff had four fifty-gun vessels. Conflans decided to head for Quiberon Bay, trusting that Hawke wouldn't dare to follow under the current weather conditions into a bay that French reports described as filled with banks, shoals, and reefs that navigators usually approach with trepidation. It was amid these daunting hazards that forty-four large ships were about to clash; the space was too confined for fleet maneuvers. Conflans believed he would get in first and be able to anchor close to the western shore of the bay, forcing the enemy to position themselves between him and the beach, six miles downwind. None of his expectations were met. During the retreat, he took the lead of his fleet; a decision that wasn't unjustified since only by leading could he effectively demonstrate his intentions, but it was unfortunate for his public reputation as it put the admiral at the forefront of the flight. Hawke was not in the least deterred by the dangers ahead, which he fully understood as a skilled seaman; his calm, steadfast, and brave demeanor allowed him to weigh risks fairly, neither downplaying nor overstating them. He didn’t leave any records of his thoughts, but he surely felt that the French, leading, would act as partial guides and would inevitably run aground ahead of him; he trusted the spirit and experience of his officers, tested by the harsh realities of the blockade, were superior to those of the French; and he recognized that both the government and the country insisted that the enemy’s fleet should not reach another friendly port safely. On the day he was pursuing the French, amid dangers that have marked this as one of the most dramatic sea battles, he was being burned in effigy in England for letting them escape. As Conflans, leading his fleet, was rounding the Cardinals—the southernmost rocks at the entrance of Quiberon Bay—the leading English ships confronted the French rear in battle. It was yet another case of a general chase ending in a mêlée but under extraordinarily compelling and grand conditions due to the surrounding gale, heavy seas, lee shore, frantic speed, shortened rigging, and the large number of ships involved. One French seventy-four, pressed hard and outnumbered, attempted to open her lower-deck ports; the incoming sea flooded her, sinking her with all onboard save twenty men. Another went down due to fire from Hawke's flagship. Two others, one bearing a commodore's pennant, struck their colors. The rest scattered. Seven fled northeast and anchored by the mouth of the small Vilaine river, managing to enter it at the top of high water over two tides—a feat never accomplished before. Seven others found refuge to the southeast in Rochefort. One, severely damaged, ran ashore and was lost near the mouth of the Loire. The flagship, sharing the same name as Tourville, was burned at La Hougue, while the "Royal Sun" anchored at nightfall off Croisic, slightly north of the Loire, where she remained safe through the night. The next morning, the admiral found himself alone and, rather hurriedly it seemed, ran the ship aground to prevent her from falling into English hands. This action was criticized by the French, but unnecessarily, as Hawke would never have allowed her to escape. The great French fleet was decimated; the fourteen ships not captured or destroyed split into two groups, with those in the Vilaine managing to escape only two at a time between fifteen months and two years later. The English lost two ships that ran aground (a), and were totally wrecked; their battle losses were minimal. At nightfall, Hawke anchored his fleet and prizes in the position shown in the plate (b).
All possibility of an invasion of England passed away with the destruction of the Brest fleet. The battle of November 20, 1759, was the Trafalgar of this war; and though a blockade was maintained over the fractions that were laid up in the Vilaine and at Rochefort, the English fleets were now free to act against the colonies of France, and later of Spain, on a grander scale than ever before. The same year that saw this great sea fight and the fall of Quebec witnessed also the capture of Guadeloupe in the West Indies, of Goree on the west coast of Africa, and the abandonment of the East Indian seas by the French flag after three indecisive actions between their commodore, D'Aché, and Admiral Pocock,—an abandonment which necessarily led to the fall of the French power in India, never again to rise. In this year also the King of Spain died, and his brother succeeded, under the title of Charles III. This Charles had been King of Naples at the time when an English commodore had allowed one hour for the court to determine to withdraw the Neapolitan troops from the Spanish army. He had never forgotten this humiliation, and brought to his new throne a heart unfriendly to England. With such feelings on his part, France and Spain drew more readily together. Charles's first step was to propose mediation, but Pitt was averse to it. Looking upon France as the chief enemy of England, and upon the sea and the colonies as the chief source of power and wealth, he wished, now that he had her down, to weaken her thoroughly for the future as well as the present, and to establish England's greatness more firmly upon the wreck. Later on he offered certain conditions; but the influence of Louis's mistress, attached to the Empress of Austria, prevailed to except Prussia from the negotiations, and England would not allow the exception. Pitt, indeed, was not yet ready for peace. A year later, October 25, 1760, George II. died, and [305]Pitt's influence then began to wane, the new king being less bent on war. During these years, 1759 and 1760, Frederick the Great still continued the deadly and exhausting strife of his small kingdom against the great States joined against him. At one moment his case seemed so hopeless that he got ready to kill himself; but the continuance of the war diverted the efforts of France from England and the sea.
All chances of an invasion of England disappeared with the destruction of the Brest fleet. The battle on November 20, 1759, was the Trafalgar of this war; and although a blockade was maintained over the ships that were docked in Vilaine and Rochefort, the English fleets were now free to act against France's colonies and, later, Spain’s, on a much larger scale than before. The same year that witnessed this major sea battle and the fall of Quebec also saw the capture of Guadeloupe in the West Indies, the capture of Goree on the west coast of Africa, and the withdrawal of the French flag from the East Indian seas after three inconclusive battles between their commodore, D'Aché, and Admiral Pocock—a withdrawal that inevitably led to the decline of French power in India, never to rise again. This year also marked the death of the King of Spain, with his brother succeeding him as Charles III. This Charles had been King of Naples when an English commodore gave the court just one hour to decide to pull the Neapolitan troops out of the Spanish army. He never forgot that humiliation and brought to his new throne a heart that was not friendly toward England. With such feelings, France and Spain naturally aligned more closely. Charles's first step was to propose mediation, but Pitt rejected it. Viewing France as England's main enemy and regarding the sea and the colonies as the primary sources of power and wealth, he wanted to weaken France thoroughly for both the present and future now that he had her down, and to solidify England's greatness on the ruins. Later, he proposed certain conditions; however, the influence of Louis's mistress, allied with the Empress of Austria, succeeded in excluding Prussia from the negotiations, and England refused to accept that exclusion. Pitt, indeed, was not yet ready for peace. A year later, on October 25, 1760, George II died, and [305]Pitt's influence began to decline, as the new king was less focused on war. During the years 1759 and 1760, Frederick the Great continued the brutal and exhausting struggle of his small kingdom against the large states united against him. At one point, his situation seemed so desperate that he contemplated suicide; however, the ongoing war diverted France's efforts away from England and the sea.
The hour was fast approaching for the great colonial expeditions, which made the last year of the war illustrious by the triumph of the sea power of England over France and Spain united. It is first necessary to tell the entirely kindred story of the effect of that sea power in the East Indian peninsula.
The time was quickly coming for the major colonial expeditions, which marked the final year of the war with the victory of England's naval dominance over the combined forces of France and Spain. First, it’s important to share the closely related story of how that naval power impacted the Indian Peninsula.
The recall of Dupleix and the entire abandonment of his policy, which resulted in placing the two East India companies on equal terms, have already been told. The treaty stipulations of 1754 had not, however, been fully carried out. The Marquis de Bussy, a brave and capable soldier who had been a second to Dupleix, and was wholly in accord with his policy and ambitions, remained in the Deccan,—a large region in the southern central part of the peninsula, over which Dupleix had once ruled. In 1756, troubles arose between the English and the native prince in Bengal. The nabob of that province had died, and his successor, a young man of nineteen, attacked Calcutta. The place fell, after a weak resistance, in June, and the surrender was followed by the famous tragedy known as that of the Black Hole of Calcutta. The news reached Madras in August, and Clive, whose name has already been mentioned, sailed with the fleet of Admiral Watson, after a long and vexatious delay. The fleet entered the river in December and appeared before Calcutta in January, when the place fell into English hands again as easily as it had been lost.
The recall of Dupleix and the complete abandonment of his policies, which resulted in putting the two East India companies on equal footing, has already been discussed. However, the treaty agreements of 1754 had not been fully implemented. The Marquis de Bussy, a brave and skilled soldier who had been an assistant to Dupleix and fully supported his plans and ambitions, remained in the Deccan—a large area in the southern central part of the peninsula that Dupleix had once controlled. In 1756, conflicts emerged between the English and the local prince in Bengal. The nabob of that region had died, and his successor, a young man of nineteen, launched an attack on Calcutta. The city fell after weak resistance in June, and the surrender led to the infamous tragedy known as the Black Hole of Calcutta. The news reached Madras in August, and Clive, whose name has already been mentioned, set sail with Admiral Watson’s fleet after a long and frustrating delay. The fleet entered the river in December and appeared before Calcutta in January, when the city fell back into English hands just as easily as it had been lost.
The nabob was very angry, and marched against the English; sending meanwhile an invitation to the French at Chandernagore to join him. Although it was now known that England and France were at war, the French company, despite the experience of 1744, weakly hoped that peace [306]might be kept between it and the English. The native invitation was therefore refused, and offers of neutrality made to the other company. Clive marched out, met the Indian forces and defeated them, and the nabob at once asked for peace, and sought the English alliance, yielding all the claims on the strength of which he had first attacked Calcutta. After some demur his offers were accepted. Clive and Watson then turned upon Chandernagore and compelled the surrender of the French settlement.
The nabob was really angry and marched against the English while also inviting the French in Chandernagore to join him. Even though it was known that England and France were at war, the French company, despite what happened in 1744, weakly hoped that they could maintain peace with the English. So, the invitation was declined, and they proposed neutrality to the other company. Clive went out, confronted the Indian forces, and defeated them. The nabob immediately sought peace and wanted to ally with the English, giving up all the claims he had made in his initial attack on Calcutta. After some hesitation, his offers were accepted. Clive and Watson then turned their attention to Chandernagore and forced the French settlement to surrender.
The nabob, who had not meant to allow this, took umbrage, and entered into correspondence with Bussy in the Deccan. Clive had full knowledge of his various intrigues, which were carried on with the vacillation of a character as weak as it was treacherous; and seeing no hope of settled peace or trade under the rule of this man, entered into an extensive conspiracy for his dethronement, the details of which need not be given. The result was that war broke out again, and that Clive with three thousand men, one third of whom were English, met the nabob at the head of fifteen thousand horse and thirty-five thousand foot. The disproportion in artillery was nearly as great. Against these odds was fought and won the battle of Plassey, on the 23d of June, 1757,—the date from which, by common consent, the British empire in India is said to begin. The overthrow of the nabob was followed by placing in power one of the conspirators against him, a creature of the English, and dependent upon them for support. Bengal thus passed under their control, the first-fruits of India. "Clive," says a French historian, "had understood and applied the system of Dupleix."
The nabob, who hadn’t intended for this to happen, got offended and started communicating with Bussy in the Deccan. Clive was fully aware of his various schemes, which were carried out with the indecision of someone whose character was as weak as it was treacherous. Seeing no chance for lasting peace or trade under this man’s rule, Clive devised an extensive plot to remove him from power, the specifics of which aren’t necessary to detail. This led to another outbreak of war, where Clive, with three thousand men—one third of whom were English—faced off against the nabob who had fifteen thousand cavalry and thirty-five thousand infantry. The imbalance in artillery was nearly as significant. Against these odds, the battle of Plassey was fought and won on June 23, 1757—the date from which, by general agreement, the British Empire in India is said to have begun. The removal of the nabob was followed by the appointment of one of the conspirators against him, a puppet of the English, reliant on them for support. Bengal thus came under their control, marking the first fruits of India. "Clive," says a French historian, "understood and applied Dupleix's system."
This was true; yet even so it may be said that the foundation thus laid could never have been kept nor built upon, had the English nation not controlled the sea. The conditions of India were such that a few Europeans, headed by men of nerve and shrewdness, dividing that they might conquer, and advancing their fortunes by judicious alliances, were able to hold their own, and more too, amidst overwhelming numerical odds; but it was necessary that they should not be opposed by [307]men of their own kind, a few of whom could turn the wavering balance the other way. At the very time that Clive was acting in Bengal, Bussy invaded Orissa, seized the English factories, and made himself master of much of the coast regions between Madras and Calcutta; while a French squadron of nine ships, most of which, however, belonged to the East India Company and were not first-rate men-of-war, was on its way to Pondicherry with twelve hundred regular troops,—an enormous European army for Indian operations of that day. The English naval force on the coast, though fewer in numbers, may be considered about equal to the approaching French squadron. It is scarcely too much to say that the future of India was still uncertain, and the first operations showed it.
This was true; however, it can be said that the foundation laid could never have been maintained or expanded without the English nation controlling the sea. The situation in India was such that a few Europeans, led by bold and cunning leaders, worked together to conquer and improve their situation through smart alliances. They managed to hold their ground and even gain more despite being outnumbered. However, it was crucial that they weren't challenged by men of their own nationality, as even a few of them could tip the balance in a different direction. At the same time Clive was active in Bengal, Bussy invaded Orissa, took over the English trading posts, and gained control of much of the coastal areas between Madras and Calcutta. Meanwhile, a French fleet of nine ships, most of which were from the East India Company and not top-tier warships, was heading to Pondicherry with twelve hundred regular troops—an enormous European force for military operations in India at that time. Although the English naval force on the coast was smaller in numbers, it was approximately equal to the approaching French squadron. It is not an exaggeration to say that the future of India was still uncertain, as the initial operations demonstrated.
The French division appeared off the Coromandel coast to the southward of Pondicherry on the 26th of April, 1758, and anchored on the 28th before the English station called Fort St. David. Two ships kept on to Pondicherry, having on board the new governor, Comte de Lally, who wished to go at once to his seat of government. Meanwhile, the English admiral, Pocock, having news of his enemy's coming, and fearing specially for this post, was on his way to it, and appeared on the 29th of April, before the two ships with the governor were out of sight. The French at once got under way and stood out to sea on the starboard tack (Plate Va.), heading to the northward and eastward, the wind being southeast, and signals were made to recall the ship and frigate (a) escorting Lally; but they were disregarded by the latter's order, an act which must have increased, if it did not originate, the ill-will between him and Commodore d'Aché, through which the French campaign in India miscarried. The English, having formed to windward on the same tack as the French, made their attack in the then usual way, and with the usual results. The seven English ships were ordered to keep away together for the French eight, and the four leading ships, including the admiral's, came into action handsomely; the last three, whether by their own fault of not, were late in doing so, but it will be remembered that this was almost [308]always the case in such attacks. The French commodore, seeing this interval between the van and the rear, formed the plan of separating them, and made signal to wear together, but in his impatience did not wait for an answer. Putting his own helm up, he wore round, and was followed in succession by the rear ships, while the van stood on. The English admiral, who had good reason to know, gives D'Aché more credit than the French writers, for he describes this movement thus:—
The French division showed up off the Coromandel coast south of Pondicherry on April 26, 1758, and anchored on April 28 near the English station known as Fort St. David. Two ships continued on to Pondicherry, carrying the new governor, Comte de Lally, who wanted to get to his seat of government right away. Meanwhile, English Admiral Pocock, having heard about the enemy's arrival and particularly worried about this post, was heading there himself and appeared on April 29, just before the two ships with the governor were out of sight. The French quickly got ready and set out to sea on the starboard tack, heading north and east with a southeast wind. They signaled to recall the ship and frigate escorting Lally, but that order was ignored, which likely worsened the already strained relationship between him and Commodore d'Aché, contributing to the failure of the French campaign in India. The English, having formed to windward on the same tack as the French, launched their attack in the usual manner and with the typical outcomes. The seven English ships were instructed to move together towards the eight French ships, and the four leading ships, including the admiral's, engaged effectively; however, the last three were slow to join the fray, which was often the case in such attacks. Seeing the gap between the front and the rear, the French commodore planned to separate them and signaled to turn together, but in his impatience, he didn’t wait for a response. He turned around, and the rear ships followed him while the front continued on. The English admiral, who had good reason to know, gave D'Aché more credit than French writers typically did, describing this movement as follows:—
"At half-past four P.M. the rear of the French line had drawn pretty close up to their flag-ship. Our three rear ships were signalled to engage closer. Soon after, M. d'Aché broke the line, and put before the wind; his second astern, who had kept on the 'Yarmouth's' [English flag-ship] quarter most part of the action, then came up alongside, gave his fire, and then bore away; and a few minutes after, the enemy's van bore away also."
"At 4:30 PM, the back of the French line had gotten pretty close to their flagship. Our three ships in the rear were signaled to move in closer. Soon after, M. d'Aché broke the line and turned before the wind; his second ship, which had been following the 'Yarmouth's' [English flagship] side for most of the action, came up alongside, fired, and then turned away; and a few minutes later, the enemy's front also turned away."
By this account, which is by no means irreconcilable with the French, the latter effected upon the principal English ship a movement of concentration by defiling past her. The French now stood down to their two separated ships, while the English vessels that had been engaged were too much crippled to follow. This battle prevented the English fleet from relieving Fort St. David, which surrendered on the 2d of June.
According to this account, which is definitely compatible with the French perspective, the French executed a maneuver to focus their forces by moving past the main English ship. The French then moved towards their two separate ships, while the English vessels that had been in action were too damaged to pursue. This battle stopped the English fleet from assisting Fort St. David, which surrendered on June 2nd.
After the fall of this place, the two opposing squadrons having refitted at their respective ports and resumed their station, a second action was fought in August, under nearly the same conditions and in much the same fashion. The French flag-ship met with a series of untoward accidents, which determined the commodore to withdraw from action; but the statement of his further reasons is most suggestive of the necessary final overthrow of the French cause. "Prudence," a writer of his own country says, "commanded him not to prolong a contest from which his ships could not but come out with injuries very difficult to repair in a region where it was impossible to supply the almost entire lack of spare stores." This want of so absolute a requisite for naval [309]efficiency shows in a strong light the fatal tendency of that economy which always characterized French operations at sea, and was at once significant and ominous.
After the fall of this place, the two opposing fleets had repaired their ships at their respective ports and returned to their positions. A second battle occurred in August, under almost the same conditions and in a similar manner. The French flagship experienced a series of unfortunate events, prompting the commodore to withdraw from the fight; however, his additional reasons strongly hinted at the inevitable defeat of the French cause. “Prudence,” a writer from his own country remarks, “told him not to extend a conflict from which his ships could only emerge with damages that would be very hard to fix in an area where it was impossible to replenish the nearly total lack of spare supplies.” This lack of such a crucial requirement for naval [309] effectiveness highlights the destructive tendency of the frugality that always marked French operations at sea, which was both significant and foreboding.
Returning to Pondicherry, D'Aché found that, though the injuries to the masts and rigging could for this time be repaired, there was lack of provisions, and that the ships needed calking. Although his orders were to remain on the coast until October 15, he backed himself with the opinion of a council of war which decided that the ships could not remain there longer, because, in case of a third battle, there was neither rigging nor supplies remaining in Pondicherry; and disregarding the protests of the governor, Lally, he sailed on the 2d of September for the Isle of France. The underlying motive of D'Aché, it is known, was hostility to the governor, with whom he quarrelled continually. Lally, deprived of the help of the squadron, turned his arms inland instead of against Madras.
Returning to Pondicherry, D'Aché found that while the damage to the masts and rigging could be fixed this time, there was a shortage of supplies, and the ships needed caulking. Even though he was ordered to stay on the coast until October 15, he supported himself with the opinion of a council of war that decided the ships could not stay there any longer, because if a third battle happened, there wouldn’t be any rigging or supplies left in Pondicherry. Ignoring the protests of the governor, Lally, he set sail on September 2 for the Isle of France. It's well known that D'Aché's main motive was his animosity toward the governor, with whom he constantly argued. Lally, lacking the support of the squadron, turned his focus inland instead of against Madras.
Upon arriving at the islands, D'Aché found a state of things which again singularly illustrates the impotence and short-sightedness characteristic of the general naval policy of the French at this time. His arrival there was as unwelcome as his departure from India had been to Lally. The islands were then in a state of the most complete destitution. The naval division, increased by the arrival of three ships-of-the-line from home, so exhausted them that its immediate departure was requested of the commodore. Repairs were pushed ahead rapidly, and in November several of the ships sailed to the Cape of Good Hope, then a Dutch colony, to seek provisions; but these were consumed soon after being received, and the pressure for the departure of the squadron was renewed. The situation of the ships was no less precarious than that of the colony; and accordingly the commodore replied by urging his entire lack of food and supplies. The condition was such that, a little later, it was necessary to make running rigging out of the cables, and to put some of the ships on the bottom, so as to give their materials to others. Before returning to India, D'Aché wrote to the [310]minister of the navy that he "was about to leave, only to save the crews from dying of hunger, and that nothing need be expected from the squadron if supplies were not sent, for both men and things were in a deplorable state."
Upon arriving at the islands, D'Aché found a situation that once again highlighted the ineffectiveness and shortsightedness typical of the French naval policy at the time. His arrival was as unwanted as Lally's departure from India. The islands were in complete devastation. The naval division, bolstered by the arrival of three warships from home, had depleted resources to the point that the commodore was asked to leave immediately. Repairs were rushed, and by November, several ships sailed to the Cape of Good Hope, then a Dutch colony, to seek supplies; however, these were quickly consumed, and the pressure for the squadron to depart intensified. The situation of the ships was just as dire as that of the colony, and the commodore responded by emphasizing the total lack of food and supplies. Conditions were so severe that it soon became necessary to make rigging from the cables and to sink some ships to salvage materials for others. Before returning to India, D'Aché wrote to the [310] minister of the navy that he "was about to leave, just to save the crews from starving, and that nothing could be expected from the squadron if supplies were not sent, as both men and resources were in a terrible state."
Under these circumstances D'Aché sailed from the islands in July, 1759, and arrived off the Coromandel coast in September. During his year of absence Lally had besieged Madras for two months, during the northeast monsoon. Both squadrons were absent, that season being unfit for naval operations on this coast; but the English returned first, and are said by the French to have caused, by the English to have hastened, the raising of the siege. D'Aché, upon his return, was much superior in both number and size of ships; but when the fleets met, Pocock did not hesitate to attack with nine against eleven. This action, fought September 10, 1759, was as indecisive as the two former; but D'Aché retreated, after a very bloody contest. Upon it Campbell, in his "Lives of the Admirals," makes a droll, but seemingly serious, comment: "Pocock had reduced the French ships to a very shattered condition, and killed a great many of their men; but what shows the singular talents of both admirals, they had fought three pitched battles in eighteen months without the loss of a ship on either side." The fruits of victory, however, were with the weaker fleet; for D'Aché returned to Pondicherry and thence sailed on the 1st of the next month for the islands, leaving India to its fate. From that time the result was certain. The English continued to receive reinforcements from home, while the French did not; the men opposed to Lally were superior in ability; place after place fell, and in January, 1761, Pondicherry itself surrendered, surrounded by land and cut off from the sea. This was the end of the French power in India; for though Pondicherry and other possessions were restored at the peace, the English tenure there was never again shaken, even under the attacks of the skilful and bold Suffren, who twenty years later met difficulties as great as D'Aché's with a vigor [311]and conduct which the latter at a more hopeful moment failed to show.
Under these circumstances, D'Aché set sail from the islands in July 1759 and arrived off the Coromandel coast in September. During his year away, Lally had besieged Madras for two months during the northeast monsoon. Both fleets were absent since that season was unsuitable for naval operations on this coast; however, the English returned first, and the French claim that they caused the siege to be lifted, while the English say they hastened its end. Upon his return, D'Aché had a significant advantage in both the number and size of his ships, but when the fleets clashed, Pocock did not hesitate to attack with nine ships against eleven. This battle, fought on September 10, 1759, was as inconclusive as the two previous encounters, but D'Aché retreated after a bloody fight. Campbell, in his "Lives of the Admirals," makes a humorous yet seemingly serious remark: "Pocock had reduced the French ships to a very battered state and killed many of their men; but what demonstrates the unique skills of both admirals is that they fought three major battles in eighteen months without losing a single ship on either side." The benefits of victory, however, rested with the weaker fleet; D'Aché returned to Pondicherry and then set sail on the 1st of the following month for the islands, leaving India to its fate. From that point on, the outcome was inevitable. The English continued to receive reinforcements from home, while the French did not; the forces opposed to Lally were more capable; one location after another fell, and in January 1761, Pondicherry itself surrendered, surrounded on land and cut off from the sea. This marked the end of French power in India; although Pondicherry and other territories were restored at the peace, the English control there was never again challenged, even under the skilled and bold Suffren, who twenty years later faced challenges as great as D'Aché's with a vigor and approach that the latter failed to demonstrate at a more hopeful time. [311]
France having thus lost both Canada and India by the evident failure of her power to act at a distance by sea, it would seem scarcely possible that Spain, with her own weak navy and widely scattered possessions, would choose this moment for entering the war. Yet so it was. The maritime exhaustion of France was plain to all, and is abundantly testified to by her naval historians. "The resources of France were exhausted," says one; "the year 1761 saw only a few single ships leave her ports, and all of them were captured. The alliance with Spain came too late. The occasional ships that went to sea in 1762 were taken, and the colonies still remaining to France could not be saved."[102] Even as early as 1758, another Frenchman writes, "want of money, the depression of commerce given over to English cruisers, the lack of good ships, the lack of supplies, etc., compelled the French ministry, unable to raise large forces, to resort to stratagems, to replace the only rational system of war, Grand War, by the smallest of petty wars,—by a sort of game in which the great aim is not to be caught. Even then, the arrival of four ships-of-the-line at Louisburg, by avoiding the enemy, was looked on as a very fortunate event.... In 1759 the lucky arrival of the West India convoy caused as much surprise as joy to the merchants. We see how rare had become such a chance in seas ploughed by the squadrons of England."[103] This was before the disasters of La Clue and Conflans. The destruction of French commerce, beginning by the capture of its merchant-ships, was consummated by the reduction of the colonies. It can hardly, therefore, be conceded that the Family Compact now made between the two courts, containing, as it did, not only an agreement to support each other in any future war, but also a secret clause binding Spain to declare war against England within a year, if peace were not made, "was honorable to the wisdom of the two governments." It is hard to pardon, not only the [312]Spanish government, but even France for alluring a kindred people into such a bad bargain. It was hoped, however, to revive the French navy and to promote an alliance of neutral powers; many of which, besides Spain, had causes of complaint against England. "During the war with France," confesses an English historian, "the Spanish flag had not always been respected by British cruisers."[104] "During 1758," says another, "not less than one hundred and seventy-six neutral vessels, laden with the rich produce of the French colonies or with military or naval stores, fell into the hands of the English."[105] The causes were already at work which twenty years later gave rise to the "armed neutrality" of the Baltic powers, directed against the claims of England on the sea. The possession of unlimited power, as the sea power of England then really was, is seldom accompanied by a profound respect for the rights of others. Without a rival upon the ocean, it suited England to maintain that enemy's property was liable to capture on board neutral ships, thus subjecting these nations not only to vexatious detentions, but to loss of valuable trade; just as it had suited her earlier in the war to establish a paper blockade of French ports. Neutrals of course chafed under these exactions; but the year 1761 was ill-chosen for an armed protest, and of all powers Spain risked most by a war. England had then one hundred and twenty ships-of-the-line in commission, besides those in reserve, manned by seventy thousand seamen trained and hardened by five years of constant warfare afloat, and flushed with victory. The navy of France, which numbered seventy-seven ships-of-the-line in 1758, lost as prizes to the English in 1759 twenty-seven, besides eight destroyed and many frigates lost; indeed, as has been seen, their own writers confess that the navy was ruined, root and branch. The Spanish navy contained about fifty ships; but the personnel, unless very different from the days before and after, must have been very inferior. The weakness of her empire, in the absence of an efficient navy, has before been pointed out. Neutrality, too, though at times outraged, had [313]been of great advantage to her, permitting her to restore her finances and trade and to re-establish her internal resources; but she needed a still longer period of it. Nevertheless, the king, influenced by family feeling and resentment against England, allowed himself to be drawn on by the astute Choiseul, and the Family Compact between the two crowns was signed on the 15th of August, 1761. This compact, into which the King of Naples was also to enter, guaranteed their mutual possessions by the whole power of both kingdoms. This in itself was a weighty undertaking; but the secret clause further stipulated that Spain should declare war against England on the 1st of May, 1762, if peace with France had not then been made. Negotiations of this character could not be kept wholly secret, and Pitt learned enough to convince him that Spain was becoming hostile in intention. With his usual haughty resolve, he determined to forestall her by declaring war; but the influence against him in the councils of the new king was too strong. Failing to carry the ministry with him, he resigned on the 5th of October, 1761. His prevision was quickly justified; Spain had been eager in professing good-will until the treasure-ships from America should arrive laden with the specie so needed for carrying on war. On the 21st of September the Flota of galleons anchored safely in Cadiz; and on the 2d of November the British ambassador announced to his government that "two ships had safely arrived with very extraordinary rich cargoes from the West Indies, so that all the wealth that was expected from Spanish America is now safe in old Spain," and in the same despatch reports a surprising change in the words of the Spanish minister, and the haughty language now used.[106] The grievences and claims of Spain were urged peremptorily, and the quarrel grew so fast that even the new English ministry, though ardently desiring peace, recalled their ambassador before the end of the year, and declared war on the 4th of January, 1762; thus adopting Pitt's policy, but too late to reap the advantages at which he had aimed.
France had thus lost both Canada and India due to her inability to project power across the seas. It seemed unlikely that Spain, with her weak navy and scattered territories, would choose this moment to enter the war. Yet, that’s exactly what happened. The maritime decline of France was obvious to everyone, and her naval historians confirmed it. "The resources of France were depleted," one noted; "the year 1761 saw only a few single ships leave her ports, and all of them were captured. The alliance with Spain arrived too late. The few ships that went to sea in 1762 were taken, and the colonies remaining to France could not be defended." Even as early as 1758, another French writer remarked, "the lack of money, the decline in trade due to English cruisers, the absence of good ships and supplies forced the French government, unable to raise large forces, to resort to clever tactics, replacing a proper war strategy, Grand War, with a series of minor conflicts—a game where the main goal is to avoid being caught. Even then, the arrival of four warships at Louisburg, by evading the enemy, was seen as a significant win... In 1759, the fortunate arrival of the West India convoy surprised and delighted merchants, highlighting how rare such opportunities had become in seas dominated by English squadrons." This was prior to the defeats at La Clue and Conflans. The destruction of French commerce began with the capture of merchant ships and was completed with the loss of colonies. Therefore, it’s hard to argue that the Family Compact established between the two courts, which not only included an agreement to support each other in future wars but also a secret clause requiring Spain to declare war against England within a year if peace was not achieved, "was admirable in the wisdom of the two governments." It's difficult to forgive not only the Spanish government but even France for luring a fellow nation into such a poor deal. Nonetheless, there was hope to revive the French navy and to foster an alliance of neutral powers; many of which, besides Spain, had grievances against England. "During the war with France," an English historian admits, "the Spanish flag was not always respected by British cruisers." "In 1758," says another, "at least one hundred seventy-six neutral vessels, loaded with valuable goods from French colonies or military supplies, fell into English hands." The factors that led to the "armed neutrality" of the Baltic powers, aimed against English maritime claims, were already in motion. Unlimited sea power, as England possessed at that time, is rarely accompanied by a deep respect for others' rights. Without competition on the ocean, England defended its position that enemy goods could be seized on neutral ships, putting those countries not just at risk of annoying detentions but also at a loss of valuable trade; similarly, it had previously been favorable for England to enforce a paper blockade of French ports. Neutrals naturally resented these impositions; however, 1761 was a poorly chosen year for an armed protest, and of all nations, Spain had the most to lose from war. England then had one hundred twenty warships in active service, along with reserves, manned by seventy thousand sailors trained through five years of continuous warfare and buoyed by victory. France's navy, which had seventy-seven warships in 1758, lost twenty-seven to the English in 1759, along with eight destroyed and many frigates lost; indeed, as noted, their own writers admit that the navy was devastated. The Spanish navy had about fifty ships; however, unless drastically different from previous times, its crew must have been quite inferior. The frailty of their empire, without an effective navy, has been highlighted before. Neutrality, though sometimes violated, had been very beneficial for Spain, allowing it to revive its finances and trade and restore internal resources; but it needed even more time. Nevertheless, the king, motivated by family loyalty and anger against England, was influenced by the shrewd Choiseul, and the Family Compact between the two crowns was signed on August 15, 1761. This agreement, which also included the King of Naples, guaranteed mutual support for their territories by the combined strength of both kingdoms. This alone was a significant commitment, but the secret clause also stated that Spain should declare war against England on May 1, 1762, if peace with France had not been reached. Such negotiations couldn’t stay completely secret, and Pitt gathered enough information to convince him that Spain was turning hostile. With his usual determination, he resolved to preempt Spain by declaring war first; however, opposition to him in the new king’s council was too strong. Unable to rally the ministry behind him, he resigned on October 5, 1761. His foresight was quickly validated; Spain had been eager to show goodwill until the treasure ships from America arrived loaded with the much-needed funds for continuing the war. On September 21, the galleon Flota anchored safely in Cadiz, and on November 2, the British ambassador informed his government that "two ships had arrived safely with exceptionally valuable cargoes from the West Indies, ensuring that all the wealth expected from Spanish America is now safe in Spain," and in the same report noted a surprising change in the Spanish minister's tone and the now haughty language being used. The grievances and demands from Spain escalated quickly, and the quarrel intensified to the point that even the new English administration, although desperately wanting peace, recalled their ambassador before the year's end and declared war on January 4, 1762; thus, they adopted Pitt’s policy but too late to gain the advantages he had aimed for.
[314]However, no such delay on the part of England could alter the essential inequality, in strength and preparation, between the two nations. The plans formed by Pitt were in the main adopted by his successor, and carried out with a speed which the readiness of the English navy permitted. On the 5th of March, Pocock, who had returned from the East Indies, sailed from Portsmouth, convoying a fleet of transports to act against Havana; in the West Indies he was reinforced from the forces in that quarter, so that his command contained nineteen ships-of-the-line besides smaller vessels, and ten thousand soldiers.
[314]However, any delay on England's part couldn't change the fundamental imbalance in strength and preparation between the two countries. The plans developed by Pitt were mostly adopted by his successor and executed quickly due to the readiness of the English navy. On March 5th, Pocock, who had just returned from the East Indies, set sail from Portsmouth, escorting a fleet of transport ships heading to attack Havana. In the West Indies, he received reinforcements from the forces in the area, bringing his command to nineteen ships-of-the-line along with smaller vessels and ten thousand soldiers.
In the previous January, the West India fleet, under the well-known Rodney, had acted with the land forces in the reduction of Martinique, the gem and tower of the French islands and the harbor of an extensive privateering system. It is said that fourteen hundred English merchantmen were taken during this war in the West Indian seas by cruisers whose principal port was Fort Royal in Martinique. With this necessary base fell also the privateering system resting upon it. Martinique was surrendered February 12, and the loss of this chief commercial and military centre was immediately followed by that of the smaller islands, Grenada, Sta. Lucia, St. Vincent. By these acquisitions the English colonies at Antigua, St. Kitts, and Nevis, as well as the ships trading to those islands, were secured against the enemy, the commerce of England received large additions, and all the Lesser Antilles, or Windward Islands, became British possessions.
In January of the previous year, the West India fleet, led by the well-known Rodney, worked together with the land forces to take control of Martinique, which was considered the jewel and stronghold of the French islands, as well as a major hub for privateering. It's reported that during this conflict in the West Indian seas, fourteen hundred English merchant ships were captured by cruisers based primarily at Fort Royal in Martinique. With this critical base lost, the privateering operations that depended on it also collapsed. Martinique was surrendered on February 12, and the loss of this key commercial and military center was quickly followed by the capture of smaller islands like Grenada, St. Lucia, and St. Vincent. These gains secured the English colonies at Antigua, St. Kitts, and Nevis, along with the ships trading with those islands, against enemy threats, significantly boosting England's commerce, and making all the Lesser Antilles, or Windward Islands, British territories.
Admiral Pocock was joined off Cape St. Nicholas by the West Indian reinforcement on the 27th of May, and as the season was so far advanced, he took his great fleet through the old Bahama channel instead of the usual route around the south side of Cuba. This was justly considered a great feat in those days of poor surveys, and was accomplished without an accident. Lookout and sounding vessels went first, frigates followed, and boats or sloops were anchored on shoals with carefully arranged signals for day or night [315]Having good weather, the fleet got through in a week and appeared before Havana. The operations will not be given in detail. After a forty days' siege the Moro Castle was taken on the 30th of July, and the city surrendered on the 10th of August. The Spaniards lost not only the city and port, but twelve ships-of-the-line, besides £3,000,000 in money and merchandise belonging to the Spanish king. The importance of Havana was not to be measured only by its own size, or its position as centre of a large and richly cultivated district; it was also the port commanding the only passage by which the treasure and other ships could sail from the Gulf of Mexico to Europe in those days. With Havana in an enemy's hands it would be necessary to assemble them at Cartagena and from there beat up against the trade-winds,—an operation always difficult, and which would keep ships long in waters where they were exposed to capture by English cruisers. Not even an attack upon the isthmus would have been so serious a blow to Spain. This important result could only be achieved by a nation confident of controlling the communications by its sea power, to which the happy issue must wholly be ascribed, and which had another signal illustration in the timely conveying of four thousand American troops to reinforce the English ranks, terribly wasted by battle and fever. It is said that only twenty-five hundred serviceable fighting men remained on foot when the city fell.
Admiral Pocock was joined off Cape St. Nicholas by reinforcements from the West Indies on May 27th. Since the season was already advanced, he navigated his large fleet through the old Bahama Channel instead of taking the usual route around the southern part of Cuba. This was seen as a major achievement at a time when maps were inaccurate, and it was done without any accidents. Lookout and sounding vessels went ahead, followed by frigates, and boats or sloops were anchored on shoals with carefully arranged signals for both day and night. With favorable weather, the fleet made it through in a week and arrived in front of Havana. The details of the operations will not be elaborated. After a forty-day siege, Moro Castle was captured on July 30th, and the city surrendered on August 10th. The Spaniards lost not only the city and port but also twelve ships of the line, along with £3,000,000 in cash and merchandise belonging to the Spanish crown. The significance of Havana wasn't just about its size or its role as the center of a vast and fertile region; it was also the port that controlled the only route for treasure and other ships traveling from the Gulf of Mexico to Europe at that time. With Havana in enemy hands, it would be necessary to gather these ships at Cartagena and then struggle against the trade winds, which was always challenging and would leave ships vulnerable to capture by English cruisers for extended periods. An attack on the isthmus wouldn’t have posed as serious a threat to Spain. This crucial outcome could only be achieved by a nation confident in its ability to control communications through naval power, which played a significant role in the successful dispatch of four thousand American troops to bolster English forces, which had been severely depleted by combat and disease. Reports indicate that only twenty-five hundred effective fighting men remained when the city fell.
While the long reach and vigor of England's sea power was thus felt in the West Indies, it was receiving further illustration in Portugal and in the far East. The allied crowns in the beginning had invited Portugal to join their alliance against those whom they had taken to calling the "tyrants of the seas," reminding her how the English monopoly of her trade was draining the country of gold, and recalling the deliberate violation of her neutrality by the fleet under Boscawen. The Portuguese minister of the day well knew all this, and keenly felt it; but though the invitation was accompanied by the plain statement that Portugal would not be allowed to continue a neutrality she could not enforce, he [316]judged rightly that the country had more to fear from England and her fleet than from the Spanish army. The allies declared war and invaded Portugal. They were for a time successful; but the "tyrants of the seas" answered Portugal's call, sent a fleet and landed at Lisbon eight thousand soldiers, who drove the Spaniards over the frontiers, and even carried the war into Spain itself.
While England's strong influence and power at sea were felt in the West Indies, it was also evident in Portugal and the Far East. The allied crowns initially invited Portugal to join their alliance against those they referred to as the "tyrants of the seas," highlighting how the English monopoly on her trade was draining the country of gold, and recalling the intentional violation of her neutrality by Boscawen's fleet. The Portuguese minister at the time understood this well and felt it deeply; however, despite the invitation clearly stating that Portugal would not be allowed to maintain a neutrality she couldn’t enforce, he [316] correctly judged that the country had more to fear from England and her fleet than from the Spanish army. The allies declared war and invaded Portugal. They were initially successful, but the "tyrants of the seas" answered Portugal's call, sent a fleet, and landed eight thousand soldiers in Lisbon, who drove the Spaniards back over the borders and even took the fight into Spain itself.
Simultaneous with these significant events, Manila was attacked. With so much already on hand, it was found impossible to spare troops or ships from England. The successes in India and the absolute security of the establishments there, with the control of the sea, allowed the Indian officials themselves to undertake this colonial expedition. It sailed in August, 1762, and reaching Malacca on the 19th, was supplied at that neutral port with all that was needed for the siege about to be undertaken; the Dutch, though jealous of the English advance, not venturing to refuse their demands. The expedition, which depended entirely upon the fleet, resulted in the whole group of Philippine Islands surrendering in October and paying a ransom of four million dollars. At about the same time the fleet captured the Acapulco galleon having three million dollars on board, and an English squadron in the Atlantic took a treasure-ship from Lima with four million dollars in silver for the Spanish government.
At the same time as these major events, Manila came under attack. With so much already happening, it was impossible to divert troops or ships from England. The victories in India and the complete security of the operations there, along with control of the sea, allowed the Indian officials to lead this colonial mission themselves. It set sail in August 1762, and after arriving in Malacca on the 19th, it was supplied at that neutral port with everything needed for the upcoming siege, with the Dutch—though wary of the English progress—not daring to refuse their requests. The expedition, which was completely reliant on the fleet, resulted in the entire group of Philippine Islands surrendering in October and agreeing to a ransom of four million dollars. Around the same time, the fleet captured the Acapulco galleon carrying three million dollars, and an English squadron in the Atlantic seized a treasure ship from Lima holding four million dollars in silver for the Spanish government.
"Never had the colonial empire of Spain received such blows. Spain, whose opportune intervention might have modified the fate of the war, entered it too late to help France, but in time to share her misfortunes. There was reason to fear yet more. Panama and San Domingo were threatened, and the Anglo-Americans were preparing for the invasion of Florida and Louisiana.... The conquest of Havana had in great measure interrupted the communications between the wealthy American colonies of Spain and Europe. The reduction of the Philippine Islands now excluded her from Asia. The two together severed all the avenues of Spanish trade and cut off all intercourse between the parts of their vast but disconnected empire."[107]
"Never before had Spain's colonial empire faced such devastating blows. Spain, whose timely involvement could have changed the outcome of the war, entered the conflict too late to assist France, but just in time to share in her misfortunes. There were fears of even more trouble. Panama and San Domingo were under threat, and the Anglo-Americans were gearing up to invade Florida and Louisiana... The capture of Havana significantly disrupted communications between Spain's wealthy American colonies and Europe. The takeover of the Philippine Islands now cut her off from Asia. Together, these events severed all the routes for Spanish trade and halted all interaction between the regions of their vast but scattered empire." [107]
[317]The selection of the points of attack, due to the ministry of Pitt, was strategically good, cutting effectually the sinews of the enemy's strength; and if his plans had been fully carried out and Panama also seized, the success would have been yet more decisive. England had lost also the advantage of the surprise he would have effected by anticipating Spain's declaration of war; but her arms were triumphant during this short contest, through the rapidity with which her projects were carried into execution, due to the state of efficiency to which her naval forces and administration had been brought.
[317]Pitt's choice of attack points was smart, effectively cutting off the enemy's strengths. If he had executed his plans fully and also taken Panama, the success would have been even more significant. England also missed the chance for a surprise by not anticipating Spain's declaration of war; however, her military was victorious during this brief conflict, thanks to how quickly her plans were carried out, due to the high level of readiness of her naval forces and administration.
With the conquest of Manila ended the military operations of the war. Nine months, counting from the formal declaration by England in January, had been sufficient to shatter the last hope of France, and to bring Spain to a peace in which was conceded every point on which she had based her hostile attitude and demands. It seems scarcely necessary, after even the brief summary of events that has been given, to point out that the speed and thoroughness with which England's work was done was due wholly to her sea power, which allowed her forces to act on distant points, widely apart as Cuba, Portugal, India, and the Philippines, without a fear of serious break in their communications.
With the conquest of Manila, the military operations of the war came to an end. Nine months, starting from England's formal declaration in January, were enough to crush France's last hopes and force Spain into a peace that conceded every point for which she had maintained her aggressive stance and demands. It hardly seems necessary, even after the brief summary of events provided, to emphasize that the speed and effectiveness of England's efforts were entirely due to her naval power, which enabled her forces to operate across distant locations like Cuba, Portugal, India, and the Philippines without worrying about significant disruptions in their communications.
Before giving the terms of peace which ought to summarize the results of the war, but do so imperfectly, owing to the weak eagerness of the English ministry to conclude it, it is necessary to trace in outline the effect of the war upon commerce, upon the foundations of sea power and national prosperity.
Before presenting the terms of peace that should summarize the outcomes of the war, but do so inadequately because the English government was overly eager to end it, it’s important to briefly outline the impact of the war on trade, the foundations of naval power, and national prosperity.
One prominent feature of this war may be more strongly impressed upon the mind by a startling, because paradoxical, statement that the prosperity of the English is shown by the magnitude of their losses.
One significant aspect of this war might be more vividly highlighted by a surprising, yet paradoxical, statement: the prosperity of the English is evident in the scale of their losses.
"From 1756 to 1760," states a French historian, "French privateers captured from the English more than twenty-five hundred merchantmen. In 1761, though France had not, so to speak, a single ship-of-the-line at sea, and though the English had taken two hundred and [318]forty of our privateers, their comrades still took eight hundred and twelve English vessels. The explanation of the number of these prizes lies in the prodigious growth of the English shipping. In 1760 it is claimed that the English had at sea eight thousand sail; of these the French captured nearly one tenth, despite escorts and cruisers. In the four years from 1756 to 1760 the French lost only nine hundred and fifty vessels."[108]
"From 1756 to 1760," says a French historian, "French privateers captured over twenty-five hundred merchant ships from the English. In 1761, even though France didn't have a single ship-of-the-line at sea, and the English had taken two hundred and forty of our privateers, our sailors still captured eight hundred and twelve English vessels. The reason for the number of these prizes is the massive growth of English shipping. In 1760, it’s said that the English had eight thousand ships at sea; the French captured almost one-tenth of them, in spite of their escorts and patrols. In the four years from 1756 to 1760, the French lost only nine hundred and fifty vessels."[108]
But this discrepancy is justly attributed by an English writer "to the diminution of the French commerce and the dread of falling into the hands of the English, which kept many of their trading-vessels from going to sea;" and he goes on to point out that the capture of vessels was not the principal benefit resulting from the efficiency of England's fleets. "Captures like Duquesne, Louisburg, Prince Edward's Island, the reduction of Senegal, and later on of Guadeloupe and Martinique, were events no less destructive to French commerce and colonies than advantageous to those of England."[109] The multiplication of French privateers was indeed a sad token to an instructed eye, showing behind them merchant shipping in enforced idleness, whose crews and whose owners were driven to speculative pillage in order to live. Nor was this risk wholly in vain. The same Englishman confesses that in 1759 the losses of merchantmen showed a worse balance than the ships-of-war. While the French were striving in vain to regain equality upon the sea and repair their losses, but to no purpose, for "in building and arming vessels they labored only for the English fleet," yet, "notwithstanding the courage and vigilance of English cruisers, French privateers so swarmed that in this year they took two hundred and forty British vessels, chiefly coasters and small craft." In 1760 the same authority gives the British loss in trading-vessels at over three hundred, and in 1761 at over eight hundred, three times that of the French; but he adds: "It would not have been wonderful had they taken more and richer ships. While their commerce was nearly destroyed, and they [319]had few merchant-ships at sea, the trading-fleets of England covered the seas. Every year her commerce was increasing; the money which the war carried out was returned by the produce of her industry. Eight thousand vessels were employed by the traders of Great Britain." The extent of her losses is attributed to three causes, of which the first only was preventable: (1) The inattention of merchant-ships to the orders of the convoying vessels; (2) The immense number of English ships in all seas; (3) The enemy's venturing the whole remains of his strength in privateering. During the same year, 1761, the navy lost one ship-of-the-line, which was retaken, and one cutter. At the same time, notwithstanding the various exchanges, the English still held twenty-five thousand French prisoners, while the English prisoners in France were but twelve hundred. These were the results of the sea war.
But this discrepancy is rightly attributed by an English writer "to the decline of French trade and the fear of falling into English hands, which kept many of their trading ships from going out to sea;" and he goes on to note that capturing ships was not the main advantage of England's fleets. "The captures like Duquesne, Louisburg, Prince Edward's Island, the reduction of Senegal, and later Guadeloupe and Martinique were events that were just as damaging to French trade and colonies as they were beneficial to England." [109] The rising number of French privateers was indeed a grim sign to a knowledgeable observer, indicating the merchant shipping behind them was idle, with crews and owners resorting to piracy to survive. This risk was not entirely without reward. The same Englishman admits that in 1759, the losses of merchant ships were worse than those of the warships. While the French struggled in vain to regain sea power and recover their losses, they were merely "building and arming ships to serve the English fleet," yet "despite the bravery and watchfulness of English cruisers, French privateers were so plentiful that that year they captured two hundred and forty British vessels, mostly coasters and small craft." In 1760, the same source reports British losses in trading vessels at over three hundred, and in 1761 at over eight hundred, three times that of the French; but he adds: "It wouldn't have been surprising if they had taken even more and richer ships. While their trade was nearly wiped out, and they [319]had few merchant ships at sea, the trading fleets of England ruled the waters. Every year their trade grew; the money lost in the war was replenished by the results of their industry. Eight thousand vessels were in use by British traders." The extent of their losses is attributed to three factors, of which only the first was preventable: (1) Merchant ships ignoring the orders of the convoying vessels; (2) The vast number of English ships in all seas; (3) The enemy risking the remainder of his strength in privateering. During the same year, 1761, the navy lost one ship-of-the-line, which was recaptured, and one cutter. At the same time, despite various exchanges, the English still held twenty-five thousand French prisoners, while English prisoners in France numbered only twelve hundred. These were the outcomes of the naval conflict.
Finally, in summing up the commercial condition of the kingdom at the end of the war, after mentioning the enormous sums of specie taken from Spain, the writer says:—
Finally, in summarizing the kingdom's commercial situation at the end of the war, after noting the huge amounts of money taken from Spain, the writer says:—
"These strengthened trade and fostered industry. The remittances for foreign subsidies were in great part paid by bills on merchants settled abroad, who had the value of the drafts in British manufactures. The trade of England increased gradually every year, and such a scene of national prosperity while waging a long, costly, and bloody war, was never before shown by any people in the world."
"These reinforced trade and promoted industry. The payments for foreign subsidies were mostly covered by bills from merchants based overseas, who exchanged the value of the drafts for British goods. England's trade grew steadily each year, and such a display of national prosperity while engaged in a lengthy, expensive, and brutal war had never before been seen by any nation in the world."
No wonder, with such results to her commerce and such unvarying success attending her arms, and seeing the practical annihilation of the French navy, that the union of France and Spain, which was then lowering on her future and had once excited the fears of all Europe, was now beheld by Great Britain alone without the smallest fear or despondency. Spain was by her constitution and the distribution of her empire peculiarly open to the attack of a great sea people; and whatever the views of the government of the day, Pitt and the nation saw that the hour had come, which had been hoped for in vain in 1739, because then years of peace and the [320]obstinate bias of a great minister had relaxed the muscles of her fleet. Now she but reached forth her hand and seized what she wished; nor could there have been any limit to her prey, had not the ministry again been untrue to the interests of the country.
It's no surprise that with such amazing outcomes for her trade and consistent success in battle, and witnessing the near-total destruction of the French navy, Great Britain viewed the alliance between France and Spain—previously a source of anxiety for all of Europe—now without any fear or worry. Spain, due to her constitution and the layout of her empire, was particularly vulnerable to attacks from a powerful naval nation. Regardless of the government's intentions at the time, Pitt and the nation knew that the moment they had longed for since 1739 had finally arrived, a moment that had seemed impossible during years of peace when a powerful minister had weakened the fleet. Now, she simply reached out and took what she desired; there would have been no limit to her gains, had the government not once again failed to prioritize the nation's interests.
The position of Portugal with reference to Great Britain has been alluded to, but merits some special attention as instancing an element of sea power obtained not by colonies, but by alliance, whether necessary or prudential. The commercial connection before spoken of "was strengthened by the strongest political ties. The two kingdoms were so situated as to have little to fear from each other, while they might impart many mutual advantages. The harbors of Portugal gave shelter as well as supplies to the English fleet, while the latter defended the rich trade of Portugal with Brazil. The antipathy between Portugal and Spain made it necessary for the former to have an ally, strong yet distant. None is so advantageous in that way as England, which in her turn might, and always has, derived great advantages from Portugal in a war with any of the southern powers of Europe."
The relationship between Portugal and Great Britain has been mentioned, but it deserves special emphasis as an example of how sea power was gained not through colonies, but through alliance, whether from necessity or strategy. The commercial link previously discussed was reinforced by strong political ties. The two kingdoms were situated in a way that they had little to fear from each other while offering many mutual benefits. Portugal's ports provided shelter and supplies for the English fleet, while the English protected Portugal's lucrative trade with Brazil. The rivalry between Portugal and Spain made it essential for Portugal to have a strong yet distant ally. None were more advantageous in that regard than England, which, in turn, has always benefited greatly from Portugal during conflicts with any of the southern European powers.
This is an English view of a matter which to others looks somewhat like an alliance between a lion and a lamb. To call a country with a fleet like England's "distant" from a small maritime nation like Portugal is an absurdity. England is, and yet more in those days was, wherever her fleet could go. The opposite view of the matter, showing equally the value of the alliance, was well set forth in the memorial by which, under the civil name of an invitation, the crowns of France and Spain ordered Portugal to declare against England.
This is a British perspective on a situation that seems to others like an alliance between a lion and a lamb. Calling a country with a navy as powerful as England’s “distant” from a smaller maritime nation like Portugal is ridiculous. England is, and even more so back then, wherever her navy could reach. The contrasting perspective, which equally highlights the value of the alliance, was clearly expressed in the memorial where, under the guise of an invitation, the crowns of France and Spain commanded Portugal to take a stand against England.
The grounds of that memorial—namely, the unequal benefit to Portugal from the connection and the disregard of Portuguese neutrality—have already been given. The King of Portugal refused to abandon the alliance, for the professed reason that it was ancient and wholly defensive. To this the two crowns replied:—
The reasons for that memorial—the uneven advantage to Portugal from the connection and the neglect of Portuguese neutrality—have already been stated. The King of Portugal refused to break the alliance, claiming it was historic and completely defensive. In response, the two crowns said:—
"The defensive alliance is actually an offensive one by the[321] situation of the Portuguese dominions and the nature of the English power. The English squadrons cannot in all seasons keep the sea, nor cruise on the principal coasts of France and Spain for cutting off the navigation of the two countries, without the ports and assistance of Portugal; and these islanders could not insult all maritime Europe, if the whole riches of Portugal did not pass through their hands, which furnishes them with the means to make war and renders the alliance truly and properly offensive."
"The defensive alliance is actually an offensive one because of the situation of the Portuguese territories and the nature of English power. The English fleets can't always stay at sea or patrol the main coasts of France and Spain to disrupt their navigation without the ports and support of Portugal. Moreover, these islanders wouldn't be able to challenge all of maritime Europe if the wealth of Portugal didn't flow through their hands, which provides them the resources to wage war and makes the alliance genuinely offensive."
Between the two arguments the logic of situation and power prevailed. Portugal found England nearer and more dangerous than Spain, and remained for generations of trial true to the alliance. This relationship was as useful to England as any of her colonial possessions, depending of course upon the scene of the principal operations at any particular time.
Between the two arguments, the logic of the situation and power won out. Portugal saw England as closer and more threatening than Spain and stuck to the alliance for generations. This relationship was just as beneficial to England as any of her colonies, depending, of course, on where the main activities were taking place at any given moment.
The preliminaries of peace were signed at Fontainebleau, November 3, 1762; the definitive treaty on the 10th of the following February, at Paris, whence the peace takes its name.
The peace negotiations were signed at Fontainebleau on November 3, 1762; the final treaty was signed on February 10 of the following year, in Paris, which is where the peace gets its name.
By its terms France renounced all claims to Canada, Nova Scotia, and all the islands of the St. Lawrence; along with Canada she ceded the valley of the Ohio and all her territory on the east side of the Mississippi, except the city of New Orleans. At the same time Spain, as an equivalent for Havana, which England restored, yielded Florida, under which name were comprised all her continental possessions east of the Mississippi. Thus England obtained a colonial empire embracing Canada, from Hudson's Bay, and all of the present United States east of the Mississippi. The possibilities of this vast region were then only partially foreseen, and as yet there was no foreshadowing of the revolt of the thirteen colonies.
According to the agreement, France gave up all claims to Canada, Nova Scotia, and all the islands of the St. Lawrence; along with Canada, she also handed over the Ohio Valley and all her land on the east side of the Mississippi, except for the city of New Orleans. At the same time, Spain, in exchange for Havana, which England returned, gave up Florida, which included all her land on the continent east of the Mississippi. As a result, England gained a colonial empire that included Canada, from Hudson's Bay, and all of the present-day United States east of the Mississippi. The potential of this vast area was only partially recognized at the time, and there was no hint of the upcoming revolt of the thirteen colonies.
In the West Indies, England gave back to France the important islands of Guadeloupe and Martinique. The four so-called neutral islands of the Lesser Antilles were divided between the two powers; Sta. Lucia going to France, St. Vincent, Tobago, and Dominica to England, which also retained Grenada.
In the West Indies, England returned the significant islands of Guadeloupe and Martinique to France. The four so-called neutral islands of the Lesser Antilles were split between the two nations; St. Lucia went to France, while St. Vincent, Tobago, and Dominica went to England, which also kept Grenada.
[322]Minorca was given back to England; and as the restoration of the island to Spain had been one of the conditions of the alliance with the latter, France, unable to fulfil her stipulation, ceded to Spain Louisiana west of the Mississippi.
[322]Minorca was returned to England; and since returning the island to Spain was one of the terms of the alliance with Spain, France, unable to meet her obligation, handed over to Spain the part of Louisiana located west of the Mississippi.
In India, France recovered the possessions she had held before Dupleix began his schemes of aggrandizement; but she gave up the right of erecting fortifications or keeping troops in Bengal, and so left the station at Chandernagore defenceless. In a word, France resumed her facilities for trading, but practically abandoned her pretensions to political influence. It was tacitly understood that the English company would keep all its conquests.
In India, France got back the territories she had before Dupleix started his expansion plans; however, she surrendered the right to build fortifications or maintain troops in Bengal, leaving the station at Chandernagore vulnerable. In short, France resumed her trading activities but essentially gave up her claims to political power. It was implicitly agreed that the English company would retain all its conquests.
The right of fishing upon the coasts of Newfoundland and in parts of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, which France had previously enjoyed, was conceded to her by this treaty; but it was denied to Spain, who had claimed it for her fishermen. This concession was among those most attacked by the English opposition.
The right to fish along the coasts of Newfoundland and in sections of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, which France had enjoyed before, was granted to her by this treaty; however, it was denied to Spain, which had claimed it for its fishermen. This concession was one of the most criticized by the English opposition.
The nation at large and Pitt, the favorite of the nation, were bitterly opposed to the terms of the treaty. "France," said Pitt, "is chiefly formidable to us as a maritime and commercial power. What we gain in this respect is valuable to us above all through the injury to her which results from it. You leave to France the possibility of reviving her navy." In truth, from the point of view of sea power and of the national jealousies which the spirit of that age sanctioned, these words, though illiberal, were strictly justifiable. The restoration to France of her colonies in the West Indies and her stations in India, together with the valuable right of fishery in her former American possessions, put before her the possibility and the inducement to restore her shipping, her commerce, and her navy, and thus tended to recall her from the path of continental ambition which had been so fatal to her interests, and in the same proportion favorable to the unprecedented growth of England's power upon the ocean. The opposition, and indeed some of the ministry, also thought that so commanding and important a position as Havana [323]was poorly paid for by the cession of the yet desolate and unproductive region called Florida. Porto Rico was suggested, Florida accepted. There were other minor points of difference, into which it is unnecessary to enter. It could scarcely be denied that with the commanding military control of the sea held by England, grasping as she now did so many important positions, with her navy overwhelmingly superior in numbers, and her commerce and internal condition very thriving, more rigorous terms might easily have been exacted and would have been prudent. The ministry defended their eagerness and spirit of concession on the ground of the enormous growth of the debt, which then amounted to £122,000,000, a sum in every point of view much greater then than now; but while this draft upon the future was fully justified by the success of the war, it also imperatively demanded that the utmost advantages which the military situation made attainable should be exacted. This the ministry failed to do. As regards the debt, it is well observed by a French writer that "in this war, and for years afterward, England had in view nothing less than the conquest of America and the progress of her East India Company. By these two countries her manufactures and commerce acquired more than sufficient outlets, and repaid her for the numerous sacrifices she had made. Seeing the maritime decay of Europe,—its commerce annihilated, its manufactures so little advanced,—how could the English nation feel afraid of a future which offered so vast a perspective?" Unfortunately the nation needed an exponent in the government; and its chosen mouthpiece, the only man, perhaps, able to rise to the level of the great opportunity, was out of favor at court.
The country as a whole and Pitt, the people's favorite, strongly opposed the terms of the treaty. "France," Pitt stated, "is mainly a threat to us as a maritime and commercial power. What we gain in this regard is especially valuable because it harms her. You're leaving France with the chance to revive her navy." In reality, considering the significance of sea power and the national rivalries that defined that era, these remarks, although somewhat narrow-minded, were entirely justifiable. Giving France back her colonies in the West Indies and her bases in India, along with the valuable fishing rights in her former American territories, provided her with the chance and incentive to restore her shipping, trade, and navy. This also encouraged her to move away from the continental ambitions that had been so damaging to her interests, which ironically benefited England's unprecedented growth of power on the ocean. The opposition, and even some members of the government, believed that such an important location as Havana [323] was poorly compensated for by the concession of the still barren and unproductive area known as Florida. Porto Rico was proposed, but Florida was accepted. There were other minor disagreements, but they don't need to be detailed. It could hardly be argued that with England's strong military control of the sea, now holding so many key positions, her navy far outnumbering any potential enemy, and her thriving commerce and domestic situation, more demanding terms could have been set and would have been wise. The government justified their willingness to concede by referencing the skyrocketing debt, which at the time was £122,000,000—a sum far more significant back then than it is now. However, while this burden on the future was certainly warranted by the success of the war, it also required that the best possible advantages from the military situation should have been taken. But the government failed to do so. Regarding the debt, a French writer pointed out that "during this war, and for years afterward, England aimed for nothing less than the conquest of America and the expansion of her East India Company. From these two regions, her goods and trade found ample markets, compensating her for the extensive sacrifices she had made. Observing the maritime decline in Europe—its trade destroyed, its industries so little developed—how could the English nation feel afraid of a future that promised such great opportunities?" Unfortunately, the nation needed a representative in the government; and the one person, perhaps, capable of seizing this significant opportunity was not in the king’s favor.
Nevertheless, the gains of England were very great, not only in territorial increase, nor yet in maritime preponderance, but in the prestige and position achieved in the eyes of the nations, now fully opened to her great resources and mighty power. To these results, won by the sea, the issue of the continental war offered a singular and suggestive contrast. France had already withdrawn, along with England, [324]from all share in that strife, and peace between the other parties to it was signed five days after the Peace of Paris. The terms of the peace were simply the status quo ante bellum. By the estimate of the King of Prussia, one hundred and eighty thousand of his soldiers had fallen or died in this war, out of a kingdom of five million souls; while the losses of Russia, Austria, and France aggregated four hundred and sixty thousand men. The result was simply that things remained as they were.[110] To attribute this only to a difference between the possibilities of land and sea war is of course absurd. The genius of Frederick, backed by the money of England, had proved an equal match for the mismanaged and not always hearty efforts of a coalition numerically overwhelming. What does seem a fair conclusion is, that States having a good seaboard, or even ready access to the ocean by one or two outlets, will find it to their advantage to seek prosperity and extension by the way of the sea and of commerce, rather than in attempts to unsettle and modify existing political arrangements in countries where a more or less long possession of power has conferred acknowledged rights, and created national allegiance or political ties. Since the Treaty of Paris in 1763, the waste places of the world have been rapidly filled; witness our own continent, Australia, and even South America. A nominal and more or less clearly defined political possession now generally exists in the most forsaken regions, though to this statement there are some marked exceptions; but in many places this political possession is little more than nominal, and in others of a character so feeble that it cannot rely upon itself alone for support or protection. The familiar and notorious example of the Turkish Empire, kept erect only by the forces pressing upon it from opposing sides, by the mutual jealousies of powers that have no sympathy with it, is an instance of such weak political tenure; and though the question is wholly European, all know enough of it to be aware that the interest and control of the sea powers is among the chief, if not the first, of the elements that now fix [325]the situation; and that they, if intelligently used, will direct the future inevitable changes. Upon the western continents the political condition of the Central American and tropical South American States is so unstable as to cause constant anxiety about the maintenance of internal order, and seriously to interfere with commerce and with the peaceful development of their resources. So long as—to use a familiar expression—they hurt no one but themselves, this may go on; but for a long time the citizens of more stable governments have been seeking to exploit their resources, and have borne the losses arising from their distracted condition. North America and Australia still offer large openings to immigration and enterprise; but they are filling up rapidly, and as the opportunities there diminish, the demand must arise for a more settled government in those disordered States, for security to life and for reasonable stability of institutions enabling merchants and others to count upon the future. There is certainly no present hope that such a demand can be fulfilled from the existing native materials; if the same be true when the demand arises, no theoretical positions, like the Monroe doctrine, will prevent interested nations from attempting to remedy the evil by some measure, which, whatever it may be called, will be a political interference. Such interferences must produce collisions, which may be at times settled by arbitration, but can scarcely fail at other times to cause war. Even for a peaceful solution, that nation will have the strongest arguments which has the strongest organized force. It need scarcely be said that the successful piercing of the Central American Isthmus at any point may precipitate the moment that is sure to come sooner or later. The profound modification of commercial routes expected from this enterprise, the political importance to the United States of such a channel of communication between her Atlantic and Pacific seaboards, are not, however, the whole nor even the principal part of the question. As far as can be seen, the time will come when stable governments for the American tropical States must be assured by the now existing powerful and [326]stable States of America or Europe. The geographical position of those States, the climatic conditions, make it plain at once that sea power will there, even more than in the case of Turkey, determine what foreign State shall predominate,—if not by actual possession, by its influence over the native governments. The geographical position of the United States and her intrinsic power give her an undeniable advantage; but that advantage will not avail if there is a great inferiority of organized brute-force, which still remains the last argument of republics as of kings. Herein lies to us the great and still living interest of the Seven Years' War. In it we have seen and followed England, with an army small as compared with other States, as is still her case to-day, first successfully defending her own shores, then carrying her arms in every direction, spreading her rule and influence over remote regions, and not only binding them to her obedience, but making them tributary to her wealth, her strength, and her reputation. As she loosens the grasp and neutralizes the influence of France and Spain in regions beyond the sea, there is perhaps seen the prophecy of some other great nation in days yet to come, that will incline the balance of power in some future sea war, whose scope will be recognized afterward, if not by contemporaries, to have been the political future and the economical development of regions before lost to civilization; but that nation will not be the United States if the moment find her indifferent, as now, to the empire of the seas.
Nevertheless, England made significant gains, not only in territorial expansion or maritime dominance but also in the prestige and position it achieved in the eyes of other nations, which were now fully aware of its vast resources and immense power. The results obtained at sea stood in striking contrast to the outcome of the continental war. France had already withdrawn, along with England, [324] from any involvement in that conflict, and peace between the other parties was signed just five days after the Peace of Paris. The terms of peace simply restored the status quo ante bellum. According to the King of Prussia, one hundred eighty thousand of his soldiers had fallen or died during this war, out of a kingdom of five million people; meanwhile, losses from Russia, Austria, and France totaled four hundred sixty thousand men. The outcome was merely that things remained unchanged.[110] To attribute this solely to the different possibilities between land and sea warfare is obviously ridiculous. The brilliance of Frederick, supported by English funding, proved to be a match for the poorly managed and often half-hearted efforts of a numerically superior coalition. A fair conclusion seems to be that states with good coastlines, or even easy access to the ocean through one or two outlets, will find it advantageous to seek growth and development through the sea and commerce rather than by trying to disrupt and change existing political arrangements in countries where long-held power has established recognized rights and created national loyalty or political connections. Since the Treaty of Paris in 1763, the world's uninhabited areas have been quickly filled; just look at our own continent, Australia, and even South America. A nominal and relatively clear political authority now generally exists in the most remote regions, although there are notable exceptions; however, in many areas this political authority is little more than symbolic, and in others, it is so weak that it cannot depend on itself for support or protection. A well-known example is the Turkish Empire, which remains upright only due to pressures from opposing forces, driven by the mutual rivalries of powers that have no sympathy for it, illustrating such fragile political control. Although this question is entirely European, everyone is aware that the interests and influence of sea powers are among the chief, if not the primary, factors that currently determine the situation; and if used wisely, they will shape inevitable future changes. In the western continents, the political stability of the Central American and tropical South American states is so shaky that it creates ongoing concerns about maintaining internal order and seriously interferes with commerce and peaceful development of their resources. As long as—using a familiar expression—they only harm themselves, this situation may continue; however, for a long time, citizens of more stable governments have been looking to exploit these resources and have suffered losses from their chaotic conditions. North America and Australia still present significant opportunities for immigration and business; however, they are filling up quickly, and as opportunities diminish there, the demand for a more stable government in those disordered states will rise, looking for security for life and a reasonable stability of institutions that allow merchants and others to rely on the future. There is currently no hope that such a demand can be met by the existing native materials; if the same is true when the demand arises, no theoretical principles, like the Monroe Doctrine, will prevent interested nations from trying to remedy the situation through some means, which, regardless of what it may be called, will be a form of political interference. Such interventions will likely lead to conflicts that might sometimes be resolved through arbitration but can often lead to war. Even for a peaceful outcome, the nation with the strongest organized force will have the most convincing arguments. It hardly needs to be mentioned that successfully creating a passage through the Central American Isthmus at any point could trigger a moment that will inevitably come sooner or later. The significant changes in trade routes expected from this project, along with the political importance for the United States of having a reliable means of communication between its Atlantic and Pacific coasts, are not the whole issue or even its main point. It is evident that the time will come when stable governments for the American tropical states must be assured by the currently powerful and [326] stable states of America or Europe. The geographical positions of these states and their climatic conditions clearly indicate that sea power will, even more than in the case of Turkey, dictate which foreign state will dominate—if not through direct possession, then through influence over the local governments. The geographic location of the United States and its inherent power provide it with a clear advantage; however, that advantage will be useless if there is a significant lack of organized military strength, which remains the final argument for both republics and monarchs. This highlights the ongoing and significant interest stemming from the Seven Years' War. In this conflict, we observed England, with a military force smaller compared to other nations, as it still is today, initially successfully defending its own shores before extending its military presence in all directions, spreading its rule and influence over distant territories, binding them to its control and turning them into sources of wealth, strength, and prestige. As it loosens the grip and diminishes the influence of France and Spain in regions beyond the sea, one might foresee the rise of another great nation in the future that will tilt the balance of power in some upcoming maritime war, whose significance will only be acknowledged later, if not recognized at the moment, as having shaped the political future and economic development of regions once lost to civilization; however, that nation will not be the United States if it remains indifferent to maritime supremacy as it is now.
The direction then given to England's efforts, by the instinct of the nation and the fiery genius of Pitt, continued after the war, and has profoundly influenced her subsequent policy. Mistress now of North America, lording it in India, through the company whose territorial conquests had been ratified by native princes, over twenty millions of inhabitants,—a population larger than that of Great Britain and having a revenue respectable alongside of that of the home government,—England, with yet other rich possessions scattered far and wide over the globe, had ever before her eyes, as a [327]salutary lesson, the severe chastisement which the weakness of Spain had allowed her to inflict upon that huge disjointed empire. The words of the English naval historian of that war, speaking about Spain, apply with slight modifications to England in our own day.
The course England took, guided by the nation’s instincts and the passionate leadership of Pitt, continued after the war and has deeply shaped her future policies. Now in control of North America and dominating India through the company whose territorial expansions were recognized by local rulers, England managed over twenty million people—a population larger than that of Great Britain and with a revenue that was quite respectable next to that of the home government. With many other valuable territories spread across the globe, England kept in mind, as a [327]valuable lesson, the harsh punishment she was able to inflict on Spain due to its weaknesses, which had allowed her to dismantle that vast, fragmented empire. The words of the English naval historian from that war, discussing Spain, can be adapted slightly to describe England in our time.
"Spain is precisely that power against which England can always contend with the fairest prospect of advantage and honor. That extensive monarchy is exhausted at heart, her resources lie at a great distance, and whatever power commands the sea, may command the wealth and commerce of Spain. The dominions from which she draws her resources, lying at an immense distance from the capital and from one another, make it more necessary for her than for any other State to temporize, until she can inspire with activity all parts of her enormous but disjointed empire."[111]
"Spain is exactly the kind of power that England can always face with the best chance of gaining an advantage and honor. That vast monarchy is weakened at its core; its resources are far away, and whoever controls the sea can control the wealth and trade of Spain. The territories from which it draws its resources are spread out at great distances from the capital and from each other, making it more crucial for Spain than any other state to buy time until it can activate all parts of its huge but fragmented empire." [111]
It would be untrue to say that England is exhausted at heart; but her dependence upon the outside world is such as to give a certain suggestiveness to the phrase.
It would be false to say that England is tired at heart; however, her reliance on the outside world suggests a deeper meaning to the phrase.
This analogy of positions was not overlooked by England. From that time forward up to our own day, the possessions won for her by her sea power have combined with that sea power itself to control her policy. The road to India—in the days of Clive a distant and perilous voyage on which she had not a stopping-place of her own—was reinforced as opportunity offered by the acquisition of St. Helena, of the Cape of Good Hope, of the Mauritius. When steam made the Red Sea and Mediterranean route practicable, she acquired Aden, and yet later has established herself at Socotra. Malta had already fallen into her hands during the wars of the French Revolution, and her commanding position, as the corner-stone upon which the coalitions against Napoleon rested, enabled her to claim it at the Peace of 1815. Being but a short thousand miles from Gibraltar, the circles of military command exercised by these two places intersect. The present day has seen the stretch from Malta to the Isthmus of Suez, formerly without a station, guarded by the cession to her of Cyprus. [328]Egypt, despite the jealousy of France, has passed under English control. The importance of that position to India, understood by Napoleon and Nelson, led the latter at once to send an officer overland to Bombay with the news of the battle of the Nile and the downfall of Bonaparte's hopes. Even now, the jealousy with which England views the advance of Russia in Central Asia is the result of those days in which her sea power and resources triumphed over the weakness of D'Aché and the genius of Suffren, and wrenched the peninsula of India from the ambition of the French.
This analogy of positions didn't go unnoticed by England. From that time on, right up to today, the territories she gained through her naval power have worked alongside that power itself to shape her policies. The route to India—back in Clive's time a long and dangerous journey with no stopping points of her own—was bolstered as opportunities arose with the acquisition of St. Helena, the Cape of Good Hope, and Mauritius. When steam made travel through the Red Sea and Mediterranean feasible, she took over Aden and later established a presence at Socotra. Malta had already come under her control during the wars of the French Revolution, and its strategic position, which was the foundation of the coalitions against Napoleon, allowed her to claim it at the Peace of 1815. Just a short thousand miles from Gibraltar, the military commands exercised by these two locations overlap. In modern times, the stretch from Malta to the Isthmus of Suez, previously without a station, is now protected by her acquisition of Cyprus. [328] Egypt, despite France’s jealousy, has come under English control. The significance of that position to India, recognized by Napoleon and Nelson, prompted the latter to immediately send an officer overland to Bombay with news of the battle of the Nile and the collapse of Bonaparte's ambitions. Even now, the concern with which England watches Russia's advance in Central Asia stems from those days when her naval power and resources overcame D'Aché’s weakness and Suffren’s brilliance, pulling the Indian peninsula away from French ambitions.
"For the first time since the Middle Ages," says M. Martin, speaking of the Seven Years' War, "England had conquered France single-handed almost without allies, France having powerful auxiliaries. She had conquered solely by the superiority of her government."
"For the first time since the Middle Ages," says M. Martin, speaking of the Seven Years' War, "England had defeated France on its own, almost without allies, while France had strong support. It had succeeded purely because of the strength of its government."
Yes! but by the superiority of her government using the tremendous weapon of her sea power. This made her rich, and in turn protected the trade by which she had her wealth. With her money she upheld her few auxiliaries, mainly Prussia and Hanover, in their desperate strife. Her power was everywhere that her ships could reach, and there was none to dispute the sea to her. Where she would she went, and with her went her guns and her troops. By this mobility her forces were multiplied, those of her enemies distracted. Ruler of the seas, she everywhere obstructed its highways. The enemies' fleets could not join; no great fleet could get out, or if it did, it was only to meet at once, with uninured officers and crews, those who were veterans in gales and warfare. Save in the case of Minorca, she carefully held her own sea-bases and eagerly seized those of the enemy. What a lion in the path was Gibraltar to the French squadrons of Toulon and Brest! What hope for French succor to Canada, when the English fleet had Louisburg under its lee?
Yes! But through the strength of her government, using the powerful tool of her naval dominance. This made her wealthy, and in turn, safeguarded the trade that generated her wealth. With her money, she supported her few allies, mainly Prussia and Hanover, in their desperate struggles. Her influence extended wherever her ships could reach, and no one challenged her control of the seas. Wherever she wanted to go, she went, taking her guns and troops with her. This mobility multiplied her forces while distracting her enemies. As the ruler of the seas, she blocked trade routes everywhere. The enemy fleets couldn’t join together; no large fleet could set out, and if one did, it was only to confront, immediately and with inexperienced officers and crews, those seasoned in storms and battle. Except for Minorca, she carefully maintained her own sea bases and eagerly captured those of the enemy. What a formidable obstacle Gibraltar was for the French fleets from Toulon and Brest! What chance did the French have of sending help to Canada when the English fleet had Louisburg covered?
The one nation that gained in this war was that which used the sea in peace to earn its wealth, and ruled it in war [329]by the extent of its navy, by the number of its subjects who lived on the sea or by the sea, and by its numerous bases of operations scattered over the globe. Yet it must be observed that these bases themselves would have lost their value if their communications remained obstructed. Therefore the French lost Louisburg, Martinique, Pondicherry; so England herself lost Minorca. The service between the bases and the mobile force between the ports and the fleets is mutual.[112] In this respect the navy is essentially a light corps; it keeps open the communications between its own ports, it obstructs those of the enemy; but it sweeps the sea for the service of the land, it controls the desert that man may live and thrive on the habitable globe.
The only nation that benefited from this war was the one that used the sea peacefully to build its wealth and commanded it during wartime [329] based on the strength of its navy, the number of its citizens who settled by or depended on the sea, and its many operational bases spread across the world. However, it's important to note that these bases would have lost their significance if their lines of communication were disrupted. This is why France lost Louisburg, Martinique, and Pondicherry; even England lost Minorca. The connections between the bases and the mobile forces between the ports and the fleets are interconnected.[112] In this sense, the navy acts as a vital support unit; it maintains communication lines between its own ports, cuts off those of the enemy, but it also clears the seas to support land operations, ensuring that humans can live and prosper on the habitable planet.
FOOTNOTES:
[93] That is, with the guns on board, but for the most part not mounted on their carriages, in order to give increased accommodation for troops. When the troops were landed, the guns were mounted.
[93] That is, with the guns on board, but mostly not placed on their carriages, to provide more space for troops. Once the troops were unloaded, the guns were mounted.
[94] Ramatuelle: Tactique Navale.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ramatuelle: Naval Tactics.
[95] Lapeyrouse-Bonfils: Hist. de la Marine.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lapeyrouse-Bonfils: Naval History.
[96] Clerk: Naval Tactics.
Clerk: Naval Strategies.
[98] Mahon: History of England.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mahon: History of England.
[99] Mahon: History of England.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mahon: History of England.
[101] See Plate VIII.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Plate 8.
[102] Troude: Batailles Navales de la France.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Troude: French Naval Battles.
[103] Lapeyrouse-Bonfils.
[104] Mahon: History of England.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mahon: History of England.
[105] Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
[106] Mahon: History of England.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mahon: History of England.
[107] Martin: History of France.
[108] Martin: History of France.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Martin: History of France.
[109] Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
[111] Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Campbell: Lives of the Admirals.
[112] These remarks, always true, are doubly so now since the introduction of steam. The renewal of coal is a want more frequent, more urgent, more peremptory, than any known to the sailing-ship. It is vain to look for energetic naval operations distant from coal stations. It is equally vain to acquire distant coaling stations without maintaining a powerful navy; they will but fall into the hands of the enemy. But the vainest of all delusions is the expectation of bringing down an enemy by commerce-destroying alone, with no coaling stations outside the national boundaries.
[112] These comments are always accurate, but they are especially true now with the introduction of steam power. The need for coal is more frequent, more urgent, and more imperative than anything experienced by sailing ships. It is futile to expect effective naval operations far from coal stations. It is just as pointless to acquire distant coaling stations without having a strong navy; those stations will simply fall into enemy hands. However, the most misguided belief is thinking you can defeat an enemy solely through disrupting their trade, without having any coaling stations beyond national borders.
CHAPTER IX.ToC
Course of Events from the Peace of Paris to 1778.—Maritime War consequent upon the American Revolution.—Sea Battle off Ushant.
Course of Events from the Peace of Paris to 1778.—Maritime War following the American Revolution.—Sea Battle near Ushant.
If England had reason to complain that she had not reaped from the Treaty of Paris all the advantages that her military achievements and position entitled her to expect, France had every cause for discontent at the position in which the war left her. The gain of England was nearly measured by her losses; even the cession of Florida, made to the conqueror by Spain, had been bought by France at the price of Louisiana. Naturally the thoughts of her statesmen and of her people, as they bent under the present necessity to bear the burden of the vanquished, turned to the future with its possibilities of revenge and compensation. The Duc de Choiseul, able though imperious, remained for many years more at the head of affairs, and worked persistently to restore the power of France from the effects of the treaty. The Austrian alliance had been none of his seeking; it was already made and working when he came to office in 1758; but he had even at the first recognized that the chief enemy was England, and tried as far as could be to direct the forces of the nation against her. The defeat of Conflans having thwarted his projects of invasion, he next sought, in entire consistency with his main purpose, to stir up Spain and gain her alliance. The united efforts of the two kingdoms with their fine seaboards could, under good administration and with time for preparation, put afloat a navy that would be a fair counterpoise to that of England. It was also doubtless true, that weaker maritime States, if they saw such a [331]combination successfully made and working efficiently, would pluck up heart to declare against a government whose greatness excited envy and fear, and which acted with the disregard to the rights and welfare of others common to all uncontrolled power. Unhappily for both France and Spain, the alliance came too late. The virtual annihilation of the French fleet in 1759 was indeed followed by an outburst of national enthusiasm for the navy, skilfully fostered and guided by Choiseul. "Popular feeling took up the cry, from one end of France to the other, 'The navy must be restored.' Gifts of cities, corporations, and private individuals raised funds. A prodigious activity sprang up in the lately silent ports; everywhere ships were building and repairing." The minister also recognized the need of restoring the discipline and tone, as well as the material of the navy. The hour, however, was too late; the middle of a great and unsuccessful war is no time to begin preparations. "Better late than never" is not so safe a proverb as "In time of peace prepare for war." The condition of Spain was better. When war broke out, the English naval historian estimates that she had one hundred ships of all sizes; of these, probably sixty were of the line. Nevertheless, although the addition of Spain to her numerous enemies might make the position of England seem critical, the combination in her favor of numbers, skill, experience, and prestige, was irresistible. With seventy thousand veteran seamen, she had only to maintain a position already won. The results we know.
If England had reason to complain that she didn’t get all the benefits from the Treaty of Paris that her military successes and status led her to expect, France had plenty of reasons to be unhappy about the situation left by the war. England’s gains were almost equal to her losses; even the transfer of Florida, given to England by Spain, had been bargained for by France at the cost of Louisiana. Naturally, the thoughts of her leaders and people, as they struggled under the weight of defeat, turned to the future and its possibilities for revenge and reparation. The Duc de Choiseul, capable but demanding, remained in charge for several more years and worked tirelessly to restore France’s power from the impacts of the treaty. The alliance with Austria was not something he had initiated; it was already in place and functioning when he took office in 1758; however, he had recognized from the outset that England was the main enemy, and he tried as best he could to direct the nation’s efforts against her. The defeat of Conflans had disrupted his invasion plans, so he next aimed, consistent with his main goal, to provoke Spain into an alliance. The combined efforts of both nations with their extensive coastlines could, with effective management and enough time to prepare, create a navy that could competently challenge England. It was also true that weaker maritime nations, if they saw such a combination effectively operating, would gain the courage to stand against a government whose power inspired envy and fear, and which acted with the kind of disregard for the rights and welfare of others common to any unchecked authority. Unfortunately for both France and Spain, the alliance came too late. The near-total destruction of the French fleet in 1759 was indeed followed by a surge of national pride in the navy, skillfully encouraged and directed by Choiseul. "Public sentiment spread across France, declaring, 'The navy must be restored.'" Donations from cities, organizations, and private individuals raised funds. There was a massive surge of activity in the once-quiet ports; everywhere, ships were being built or repaired. The minister also recognized the need to restore the discipline and morale, as well as the resources of the navy. However, the time was too late; the middle of a major, unsuccessful war is not the best time to start preparations. "Better late than never" isn’t as reliable a saying as "In times of peace, prepare for war." Spain’s situation was somewhat better. When the war began, English naval historians estimate she had one hundred ships of all kinds; of these, probably sixty were battleships. Nevertheless, although Spain joining the many enemies of England might have made her position seem precarious, the combination of numbers, skill, experience, and prestige on England’s side was overwhelming. With seventy thousand seasoned sailors, she only needed to hold onto a position she had already secured. We know the outcome.
After the peace, Choiseul wisely remained faithful to his own first ideas. The restoration of the navy continued, and was accompanied and furthered by a spirit of professional ambition and of desire to excel, among the officers of the navy, which has been before mentioned, and which, in the peculiar condition of the United States navy at the present day, may be commended as a model. The building of ships-of-war continued with great activity and on a large scale. At the end of the war, thanks to the movement begun in 1761, there were forty ships-of-the-line in good condition. In 1770, [332]when Choiseul was dismissed, the royal navy numbered sixty-four of the line and fifty frigates afloat. The arsenals and storehouses were filled, and a stock of ship-timber laid up. At the same time the minister tried to improve the efficiency of the officers by repressing the arrogant spirit of those of noble birth, which showed itself both toward superiors and toward another order of officers, not of the nobility, whose abilities made them desired on board the fleet. This class-feeling carried with it a curious sentiment of equality among officers of very different grades, which injuriously affected the spirit of subordination. Members, all, of a privileged social order, their equality as such was more clearly recognized than their inequality as junior and senior. The droll story told by Marryatt of the midshipman, who represented to his captain that a certain statement had been made in confidence, seems to have had a realization on the French quarter-deck of that day. "Confidence!" cried the captain; "who ever heard of confidence between a post-captain and a midshipman!" "No sir," replied the youngster, "not between a captain and a midshipman, but between two gentlemen." Disputes, arguments, suggestions, between two gentlemen, forgetful of their relative rank, would break out at critical moments, and the feeling of equality, which wild democratic notions spread throughout the fleets of the republic, was curiously forestalled by that existing among the members of a most haughty aristocracy. "I saw by his face," says one of Marryatt's heroes, "that the first lieutenant did not agree with the captain; but he was too good an officer to say so at such a moment." The phrase expresses one of the deepest-rooted merits of the English system, the want of which is owned by French writers:—
After the peace, Choiseul wisely stuck to his original ideas. The navy's restoration continued, fueled by a professional ambition and a desire to excel among its officers, which has been previously mentioned and can be praised as a model given the current state of the United States Navy. The construction of warships progressed with great energy and on a large scale. By the end of the war, thanks to the efforts that began in 1761, there were forty ships of the line in good condition. By 1770, [332] when Choiseul was dismissed, the royal navy had sixty-four ships of the line and fifty frigates in operation. The arsenals and storehouses were stocked, and a supply of ship timber was prepared. At the same time, the minister sought to enhance the officers' efficiency by curbing the arrogant attitudes of noble-born officers, which was evident both towards their superiors and towards non-noble officers, whose skills made them valuable on the fleet. This class-based attitude brought about a strange sense of equality among officers of significantly different ranks, which negatively affected their sense of hierarchy. All of them belonged to a privileged social class, and their equality in that regard was more prominently acknowledged than their differences in rank. The amusing story told by Marryatt about the midshipman who mentioned to his captain that a certain statement was made in confidence seems to reflect the atmosphere on the French quarter-deck of that time. "Confidence!" shouted the captain; "who ever heard of confidence between a post-captain and a midshipman?" "No, sir," the young officer replied, "not between a captain and a midshipman, but between two gentlemen." Disputes, arguments, and suggestions between two gentlemen, forgetting their respective ranks, would erupt at critical moments, and the feeling of equality, which wild democratic ideas were spreading throughout the fleets of the republic, was oddly matched by that prevailing among members of a very proud aristocracy. "I saw by his face," says one of Marryatt's characters, "that the first lieutenant did not agree with the captain; but he was too good an officer to express that at such a moment." This phrase highlights one of the fundamental strengths of the English system, a quality that French writers acknowledge is missing.
"Under Louis XVI. the intimacy and fellowship existing between the chief and the subordinate led the latter to discuss the orders which were given him.... The relaxation of discipline and the spirit of independence were due also to another cause than that pointed out; they can be partly attributed to the regulation of the officers' messes. Admiral, captain, officers, midshipmen, ate together; [333]everything was in common. They thee-and-thou'd each other like chums. In handling the ship, the inferior gave his opinion, argued, and the chief, irritated, often preferred to yield rather than make enemies. Facts of this kind are asserted by witnesses whose truthfulness is above suspicion."[113]
"Under Louis XVI, the closeness and camaraderie between the leader and the subordinate led the latter to discuss the orders given to him.... The loosening of discipline and the spirit of independence were also due to another reason beyond what has been mentioned; they can be partly attributed to the regulation of the officers' messes. Admiral, captain, officers, and midshipmen all ate together; [333]everything was shared. They addressed each other informally like friends. When it came to operating the ship, the subordinate would give his opinion and argue, and the leader, annoyed, often preferred to give in rather than create enemies. These facts are confirmed by witnesses whose credibility is unquestionable."[113]
Insubordination of this character, to which weaker men gave way, dashed in vain against the resolute and fiery temper of Suffren; but the spirit of discontent rose almost to the height of mutiny, causing him to say in his despatches to the minister of the navy, after his fourth battle: "My heart is pierced by the most general defection. It is frightful to think that I might four times have destroyed the English fleet, and that it still exists." Choiseul's reforms broke against this rock, which only the uprising of the whole nation finally removed; but in the personnel of the crews a great improvement was made. In 1767 he reorganized the artillery of the fleet, forming a body of ten thousand gunners, who were systematically drilled once a week during the ten years still to intervene before the next war with England.
The defiance shown by some, which weaker men succumbed to, crashed in vain against Suffren's determined and fiery nature; however, the spirit of dissatisfaction nearly escalated to mutiny, prompting him to express in his reports to the navy minister after his fourth battle: "My heart is torn by widespread disloyalty. It's horrifying to consider that I might have destroyed the English fleet four times, and yet it still remains." Choiseul's reforms hit this barrier, which only the uprising of the entire nation could ultimately overcome; however, a significant improvement was made in the makeup of the crews. In 1767, he reorganized the fleet's artillery, creating a group of ten thousand gunners who were trained systematically once a week during the ten years leading up to the next war with England.
Losing sight of no part of his plans, Choiseul, while promoting the naval and military power of France, paid special attention to the alliance with Spain and judiciously encouraged and furthered the efforts of that country in the path of progress under Charles III., the best of her kings of the Bourbon line. The Austrian alliance still existing was maintained, but his hopes were chiefly fixed upon Spain. The wisdom and insight which had at once fastened upon England as the centre of enmity to France had been justified and further enlightened by the whole course of the Seven Years' War. In Spain was the surest, and, with good administration, the most powerful ally. The close proximity of the two countries, the relative positions of their ports, made the naval situation particularly strong; and the alliance which was dictated by sound policy, by family ties, and by just fear of England's sea power, was further assured to France by recent and still existing injuries that must continue to rankle with [334]Spain. Gibraltar, Minorca, and Florida were still in the hands of England; no Spaniard could be easy till this reproach was wiped out.
Losing sight of no part of his plans, Choiseul, while boosting France's naval and military strength, focused on the alliance with Spain and wisely supported that country's progress under Charles III, the best of her Bourbon kings. The Austrian alliance was still in place, but his main hopes were pinned on Spain. The wisdom and insight that had initially recognized England as France's main enemy were validated and further clarified by the entire course of the Seven Years' War. Spain was the most reliable and potentially powerful ally, especially with effective administration. The close proximity of the two countries and the relative positions of their ports made the naval situation particularly strong; the alliance was grounded in sound policy, family ties, and a justified fear of England's naval power, further solidified by recent and ongoing grievances that would continue to bother Spain. Gibraltar, Minorca, and Florida were still in English hands; no Spaniard could feel at ease until this shame was erased.
It may be readily believed, as is asserted by French historians, that England viewed with disquietude the growth of the French navy, and would gladly have nipped it betimes; but it is more doubtful whether she would have been willing to force a war for that purpose. During the years succeeding the Peace of Paris a succession of short ministries, turning mainly upon questions of internal policy or unimportant party arrangement, caused her foreign policy to present a marked contrast to the vigorous, overbearing, but straightforward path followed by Pitt. Internal commotions, such as are apt to follow great wars, and above all the controversy with the North American colonies, which began as early as 1765 with the well-known Stamp Act, conspired with other causes to stay the hand of England. Twice at least during the years of Choiseul's ministry there occurred opportunities which a resolute, ready, and not too scrupulous government might easily have converted into a cause of war; the more so as they involved that sea power which is to England above all other nations the object of just and jealous concern. In 1764 the Genoese, weary of their unsuccessful attempts to control Corsica, again asked France to renew the occupation of the ports which had been garrisoned by her in 1756. The Corsicans also sent an ambassador to France in order to solicit recognition of the independence of the island, in consideration of a tribute equivalent to that which they had formerly paid to Genoa. The latter, feeling its inability to reconquer the island, at length decided practically to cede it. The transaction took the shape of a formal permission for the King of France to exercise all the rights of sovereignty over all the places and harbors of Corsica, as security for debts owing to him by the republic. This cession, disguised under the form of a security in order to palliate the aggrandizement of France in the eyes of Austria and England, recalls the conditional and thinly veiled surrender of [335]Cyprus to England nine years ago,—a transfer likely to be as final and far-reaching as that of Corsica. England then remonstrated and talked angrily; but though Burke said, "Corsica as a province of France is terrible to me," only one member of the House of Commons, the veteran admiral Sir Charles Saunders, was found to say "that it would be better to go to war with France than consent to her taking possession of Corsica."[114] Having in view the then well-recognized interests of England in the Mediterranean, it is evident that an island so well situated as Corsica for influencing the shores of Italy and checking the naval station at Minorca, would not have been allowed to go into the hands of a strong master, if the nation had felt ready and willing for war.
It’s widely believed, as French historians claim, that England was worried about the expansion of the French navy and would have liked to stop it early on; however, it’s less certain that England would have been willing to start a war to do so. In the years after the Peace of Paris, a series of short-lived administrations focused mainly on internal issues or minor party politics resulted in a foreign policy that stood in stark contrast to the assertive, decisive, and straightforward approach of Pitt. Internal turmoil, which often follows major wars, and especially the conflict with the North American colonies that began as early as 1765 with the infamous Stamp Act, limited England’s actions. At least twice during Choiseul's ministry, there were chances that a bold and opportunistic government could have turned into a reason for war; especially since these incidents involved sea power, which England was particularly concerned about. In 1764, the Genoese, tired of their failed attempts to control Corsica, once again asked France to reoccupy the ports it had garrisoned in 1756. The Corsicans also sent an ambassador to France to seek recognition of their independence in exchange for a tribute similar to what they had previously paid to Genoa. The latter, recognizing its inability to reclaim the island, eventually decided to effectively cede it. This arrangement took the form of a formal allowance for the King of France to exercise full sovereignty over the ports and harbors of Corsica, as security for debts owed to him by the republic. This cession, cloaked as a form of security to soften the perception of France’s expansion in the eyes of Austria and England, recalls the conditional and somewhat disguised handing over of [335]Cyprus to England nine years earlier—a transfer likely to be as definitive and impactful as that of Corsica. At that time, England protested and expressed outrage; but while Burke remarked, "Corsica as a province of France is terrible to me," only one member of the House of Commons, veteran Admiral Sir Charles Saunders, stated, "it would be better to go to war with France than allow her to take possession of Corsica."[114] Considering England's well-known interests in the Mediterranean at the time, it’s clear that an island as strategically located as Corsica, which could influence the shores of Italy and control the naval base at Minorca, would not have been allowed to fall into the hands of a powerful ruler if the nation had felt prepared and willing to engage in war.
Again, in 1770, a dispute arose between England and Spain relative to the possession of the Falkland Islands. It is not material to state the nature of either claim to what was then but a collection of barren islands, destitute of military as well as of natural advantages. Both England and Spain had had a settlement, on which the national colors were flying; and at the English station a captain in the navy commanded. Before this settlement, called Port Egmont, there suddenly appeared, in June, 1770, a Spanish expedition, fitted out in Buenos Ayres, of five frigates and sixteen hundred soldiers. To such a force the handful of Englishmen could make no serious resistance; so after a few shots, exchanged for the honor of the flag, they capitulated.
Again, in 1770, a dispute broke out between England and Spain over who owned the Falkland Islands. It’s not important to go into the details of either claim to what were then just a group of barren islands, lacking both military and natural advantages. Both England and Spain had established settlements, where their national flags were waving; and at the English settlement, a captain in the navy was in charge. Before this settlement, known as Port Egmont, a Spanish expedition suddenly appeared in June 1770, equipped from Buenos Aires with five frigates and sixteen hundred soldiers. The small group of Englishmen couldn’t put up any serious fight against such a force; so after exchanging a few shots for the sake of their flag's honor, they surrendered.
The news of this transaction, which reached England in the following October, showed by its reception how much more serious is an insult than an injury, and how much more bitterly resented. The transfer of Corsica had scarcely occasioned a stir outside the offices of statesmen; the attack on Port Egmont roused the people and Parliament. The minister to Madrid was ordered to demand the immediate restoration of the islands, with a disavowal of the action of the officer who had ordered the attack. Without waiting [336]for a reply, ships were ordered into commission, press-gangs swept the streets, and in a short time a powerful fleet was ready at Spithead to revenge the insult. Spain, relying upon the Bourbon family compact and the support of France, was disposed to stand firm; but the old king, Louis XV., was averse to war, and Choiseul, among whose enemies at court was the last mistress, was dismissed. With his fall disappeared the hopes of Spain, which at once complied with the demands of England, reserving, however, the question as to the rights of sovereignty. This conclusion shows clearly that England, though still wielding an effective sea power able to control Spain, was not eager for a war merely in order to break down the rival navies.
The news of this deal, which reached England the following October, demonstrated by its reception how much more serious an insult is than an injury, and how much more it’s resented. The transfer of Corsica hardly caused a stir outside the offices of politicians; the attack on Port Egmont stirred the public and Parliament. The minister in Madrid was instructed to demand the immediate return of the islands, along with a rejection of the officer’s orders who had initiated the attack. Without waiting [336]for a response, ships were commissioned, press gangs flooded the streets, and soon a powerful fleet was ready at Spithead to take revenge for the insult. Spain, counting on the Bourbon family alliance and France's support, was prepared to stand firm; but the old king, Louis XV, was against war, and Choiseul, who had enemies at court including the king's last mistress, was ousted. With his removal, Spain’s hopes faded, and they quickly complied with England's demands, while still reserving the issue of sovereignty rights. This outcome clearly shows that even though England still had a strong naval power that could control Spain, it wasn’t keen on going to war just to defeat a rival navy.
It is not wholly alien to the question of sea power to note, without dwelling upon it, a great event which now happened, seemingly utterly removed from all relation to the sea. The first partition of Poland between Prussia, Russia, and Austria, carried out in 1772, was made easier by the preoccupation of Choiseul with his naval policy and the Spanish alliance. The friendship and support of Poland and Turkey, as checks upon the House of Austria, were part of the tradition received from Henry IV. and Richelieu; the destruction of the former was a direct blow to the pride and interest of France. What Choiseul would have done had he been in office, cannot be known; but if the result of the Seven Years' War had been different, France might have interfered to some purpose.
It’s not entirely unrelated to the topic of naval power to mention, without going into detail, a significant event that occurred, seemingly disconnected from the sea. The first partition of Poland in 1772, involving Prussia, Russia, and Austria, was made easier by Choiseul’s focus on his naval strategy and the alliance with Spain. The friendship and support of Poland and Turkey were meant to counterbalance the House of Austria, following the legacy of Henry IV and Richelieu; the loss of Poland was a direct hit to France’s pride and interests. We can’t know for sure what Choiseul would have done if he had been in office, but if the outcome of the Seven Years' War had been different, France might have taken meaningful action.
On the 10th of May, 1774, Louis XV. died, at the time when the troubles in the North American colonies were fast coming to a head. Under his youthful successor, Louis XVI., the policy of peace on the continent, of friendly alliance with Spain, and of building up the navy in numbers and efficiency, was continued. This was the foreign policy of Choiseul, directed against the sea power of England as the chief enemy, and toward the sea power of France as the chief support, of the nation. The instructions which, according to a French naval author, the new king gave to his ministers [337]show the spirit with which his reign up to the Revolution was inspired, whether or not they originated with the king himself:—
On May 10, 1774, Louis XV died, just as the issues in the North American colonies were reaching a crisis. His young successor, Louis XVI, continued the policy of maintaining peace on the continent, fostering a friendly alliance with Spain, and expanding the navy in both numbers and efficiency. This was Choiseul's foreign policy, aimed at countering England's naval dominance as the main threat and reinforcing France's own naval power as the country's key support. The instructions that, according to a French naval author, the new king gave to his ministers [337] reflect the spirit that guided his reign leading up to the Revolution, whether or not they came directly from the king himself:—
"To watch all indications of approaching danger; to observe by cruisers the approaches to our islands and the entrance to the Gulf of Mexico; to keep track of what was passing on the banks of Newfoundland, and to follow the tendencies of English commerce; to observe in England the state of the troops and armaments, the public credit and the ministry; to meddle adroitly in the affairs of the British colonies; to give the insurgent colonists the means of obtaining supplies of war, while maintaining the strictest neutrality; to develop actively, but noiselessly, the navy; to repair our ships of war; to fill our storehouses and to keep on hand the means for rapidly equipping a fleet at Brest and at Toulon, while Spain should be fitting one at Ferrol; finally, at the first serious fear of rupture, to assemble numerous troops upon the shores of Brittany and Normandy, and get everything ready for an invasion of England, so as to force her to concentrate her forces, and thus restrict her means of resistance at the extremities of the empire."[115]
"To monitor all signs of impending danger; to use cruisers to watch the approaches to our islands and the entrance to the Gulf of Mexico; to keep up with what was happening on the banks of Newfoundland, and to follow trends in English trade; to observe the status of troops and armaments in England, the state of public finances, and the government; to skillfully interfere in the British colonies’ affairs; to provide the insurgent colonists with supplies for war while maintaining strict neutrality; to actively, yet quietly, develop the navy; to repair our warships; to stock our warehouses and keep resources available for quickly outfitting a fleet at Brest and Toulon, while Spain was preparing one at Ferrol; finally, at the first serious sign of conflict, to gather a large number of troops on the shores of Brittany and Normandy, and prepare for an invasion of England to compel her to concentrate her forces, thereby limiting her ability to resist at the far reaches of the empire."[115]
Such instructions, whether given all at once as a symmetrical, well-thought-out plan, or from time to time, as occasion arose, showed that an accurate forecast of the situation had been made, and breathed a conviction which, if earlier felt, would have greatly modified the history of the two countries. The execution was less thorough than the conception.
Such instructions, whether provided all at once as a structured, well-thought-out plan, or in bits and pieces as the situation called for, indicated that a clear understanding of the circumstances had been achieved, and reflected a belief that, if recognized earlier, would have significantly changed the history of the two countries. The implementation was not as comprehensive as the original idea.
In the matter of developing the navy, however, fifteen years of peace and steady work showed good results. When war openly broke out in 1778, France had eighty ships-of-the-line in good condition, and sixty-seven thousand seamen were borne on the rolls of the maritime conscription. Spain, when she entered the war in 1779 as the ally of France, had in her ports nearly sixty ships-of-the-line. To this combination England opposed a total number of two hundred and twenty eight ships of all classes, of which about one hundred and fifty were of the line. The apparent equality in material [338]which would result from these numbers was affected, to the disadvantage of England, by the superior size and artillery of the French and Spaniards; but on the other hand her strength was increased by the unity of aim imparted by belonging to one nation. The allies were destined to feel the proverbial weakness of naval coalitions, as well as the degenerate administration of Spain, and the lack of habit—may it not even be said without injustice, of aptitude for the sea—of both nations. The naval policy with which Louis XVI. began his reign was kept up to the end; in 1791, two years after the assembly of the States-General, the French navy numbered eighty-six ships-of-the-line, generally superior, both in dimensions and model, to English ships of the same class.
In terms of building up the navy, fifteen years of peace and steady effort paid off. When war broke out in 1778, France had eighty well-maintained ships-of-the-line and sixty-seven thousand sailors registered for maritime service. When Spain joined the war in 1779 as France's ally, she had nearly sixty ships-of-the-line in her ports. In response, England had a total of two hundred and twenty-eight ships of all types, with about one hundred and fifty of those being ships of the line. The seeming balance in numbers was skewed against England due to the larger size and firepower of the French and Spanish vessels; however, England's strength was bolstered by the shared objectives stemming from being a single nation. The allies were bound to experience the typical weaknesses of naval coalitions, along with Spain's ineffective leadership and both nations' lack of experience—or perhaps even skill—at sea. The naval strategy that Louis XVI started implementing at the beginning of his reign continued until the end; by 1791, just two years after the States-General convened, the French navy had eighty-six ships-of-the-line, generally larger and better designed than English ships of the same type.
We have come, therefore, to the beginning of a truly maritime war; which, as will be granted by those who have followed this narrative, had not been seen since the days of De Ruyter and Tourville. 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. Waged, from the extended character of the British Empire, in all quarters of the world at once, the attention of the student is called now to the East Indies and now to the West; now to the shores of the United States and thence to those of England; from New York and Chesapeake Bay to Gibraltar and Minorca, to the Cape Verde Islands, the Cape of Good Hope, and Ceylon. Fleets now meet fleets of equal size, and the general chase and the mêlée, which marked the actions of Hawke, Boscawen, and Anson, though they still occur at times, are for the most part succeeded by wary and complicated manœuvres, too often barren of decisive results as naval battles, which are the prevailing characteristic of this coming war. The superior tactical science of the French succeeded in [339]imparting to this conflict that peculiar feature of their naval policy, which subordinated the control of the sea by the destruction of the enemy's fleets, of his organized naval forces, to the success of particular operations, the retention of particular points, the carrying out of particular ulterior strategic ends. It is not necessary to endeavor to force upon others the conviction of the present writer that such a policy, however applicable as an exception, is faulty as a rule; but it is most desirable that all persons responsible for the conduct of naval affairs should recognize that the two lines of policy, in direct contradiction to each other, do exist. In the one there is a strict analogy to a war of posts; while in the other the objective is that force whose destruction leaves the posts unsupported and therefore sure to fall in due time. These opposing policies being recognized, consideration should also be had of the results of the two as exemplified in the history of England and France.
We have now reached the start of a genuine maritime war, which, as anyone following this story will agree, has not been seen since the days of De Ruyter and Tourville. The power of the sea and its significance may have been more clearly demonstrated by the unchecked dominance and subsequent elevation of one side in previous conflicts; however, that more striking lesson is less engaging than the sight of naval power facing an adversary strong enough to challenge it, motivated by a struggle that threatened not only its most valuable colonies but also its own shores. This war, fought across the globe due to the vast nature of the British Empire, draws attention now to the East Indies and then to the West; now to the coasts of the United States and then back to those of England; from New York and Chesapeake Bay to Gibraltar and Minorca, to the Cape Verde Islands, the Cape of Good Hope, and Ceylon. Fleets now encounter equally sized fleets, and while the general chase and the mêlée that characterized the battles of Hawke, Boscawen, and Anson still happen occasionally, they are largely replaced by cautious and complex maneuvers, often lacking decisive outcomes in naval battles, which become the dominant feature of this upcoming war. The superior tactical expertise of the French contributed to this conflict by incorporating a distinct aspect of their naval strategy that prioritized controlling the sea through the destruction of enemy fleets and organized naval forces, focusing on the success of specific operations, holding particular locations, and achieving certain longer-term strategic goals. It is not necessary to convince others of the writer's belief that such a strategy, while suitable as an exception, is flawed as a general rule; however, it is crucial for everyone responsible for naval operations to recognize that these two contrasting policies do exist. One aligns closely with a war of positions, while the other aims to eliminate the forces that leave those positions unprotected and thus destined to fall in due time. Acknowledging these opposing strategies, one should also consider the outcomes of each as illustrated in the histories of England and France.
It was not, however, with such cautious views that the new king at first sought to impress his admirals. In the instructions addressed to the Count d'Orvilliers, commanding the first fleet sent out from Brest, the minister, speaking in the name of the king, says:—
It wasn’t with such careful thoughts that the new king initially tried to impress his admirals. In the instructions given to Count d'Orvilliers, who commanded the first fleet sent out from Brest, the minister, speaking on behalf of the king, says:—
"Your duty now is to restore to the French flag the lustre with which it once shone; past misfortunes and faults must be buried out of sight; only by the most illustrious actions can the navy hope to succeed in doing this. His Majesty has the right to expect the greatest efforts from his officers.... Under whatever circumstances the king's fleet may be placed, his Majesty's orders, which he expressly charges me to impress upon you, as well as upon all officers in command, are that his ships attack with the greatest vigor, and defend themselves, on all occasions, to the last extremity."
"Your task now is to bring back the glory to the French flag that it once had; past misfortunes and mistakes should be forgotten. The navy can only hope to achieve this through remarkable actions. His Majesty expects the highest efforts from his officers... No matter what situation the king's fleet finds itself in, his Majesty's orders, which he specifically asks me to emphasize to you and all commanding officers, are that his ships should attack with full force and defend themselves, at all times, to the very end."
More follows to the same effect; upon which a French officer, who has not before been quoted in connection with this phase of French naval policy, says:—
More follows in the same vein; regarding this, a French officer, who hasn't been mentioned before in relation to this aspect of French naval policy, states:—
"How different this language from that held to our admirals during the last war; for it would be an error to believe that they [340]followed by choice and temper the timid and defensive system which predominated in the tactics of the navy. The government, always finding the expenses exacted by the employment of the navy excessive, too often prescribed to its admirals to keep the sea as long as possible without coming to pitched battles, or even to brushes, generally very expensive, and from which might follow the loss of ships difficult to replace. Often they were enjoined, if driven to accept action, carefully to avoid compromising the fate of their squadron by too decisive encounters. They thought themselves, therefore, obliged to retreat as soon as an engagement took too serious a turn. Thus they acquired the unhappy habit of voluntarily yielding the field of battle as soon as an enemy, even inferior, boldly disputed it with them. Thus to send a fleet to meet the enemy, only to retire shamefully from his presence; to receive action instead of offering it; to begin battles only to end them with the semblance of defeat; to ruin moral force in order to save physical force,—that was the spirit which, as has been very judiciously said by M. Charles Dupin, guided the French ministry of that epoch. The results are known."[116]
"How different this language is from what our admirals used during the last war; it would be a mistake to think that they [340]chose to adopt the cautious and defensive strategy that dominated the navy's tactics. The government, always finding the costs of maintaining the navy too high, often instructed its admirals to stay at sea as long as possible without engaging in major battles or even skirmishes, which were usually very costly and could lead to losing ships that were hard to replace. They were frequently told that if they were forced to engage in combat, they should do so carefully to avoid jeopardizing the fate of their squadron through decisive encounters. As a result, they felt compelled to retreat as soon as a confrontation escalated. This led to the unfortunate habit of willingly giving up the battlefield as soon as an enemy, even if weaker, boldly challenged them. Thus, a fleet would be sent to confront the enemy, only to retreat shamefully from their presence; they would have to endure action rather than initiate it; they would start battles only to end them with the appearance of defeat; they would compromise morale in order to preserve physical strength—that was the mindset, as very wisely noted by M. Charles Dupin, that guided the French government during that time. The outcomes are well known."[116]
The brave words of Louis XVI. were followed almost immediately by others, of different and qualifying tenor, to Admiral d'Orvilliers before he sailed. He was informed that the king, having learned the strength of the English fleet, relied upon his prudence as to the conduct to be followed at a moment when he had under his orders all the naval force of which France could dispose. As a matter of fact the two fleets were nearly equal; it would be impossible to decide which was the stronger, without detailed information as to the armament of every ship. D'Orvilliers found himself, as many a responsible man has before, with two sets of orders, on one or the other of which he was sure to be impaled, if unlucky; while the government, in the same event, was sure of a scape-goat.
The bold words of Louis XVI were quickly followed by others, which carried a different tone, addressed to Admiral d'Orvilliers before he set sail. He was informed that the king, having learned the size of the English fleet, was counting on his judgment regarding the actions to take at a time when he commanded all the naval forces France had available. In reality, the two fleets were nearly equal; it would be impossible to determine which was stronger without detailed knowledge of each ship's armament. D'Orvilliers found himself, as many responsible leaders have before, faced with two conflicting orders, knowing that he would be blamed if things went wrong; meanwhile, the government was sure to find a scapegoat in the same situation.
The consideration of the relative force of the two navies, material and moral, has necessarily carried us beyond the date of the opening of the American Revolutionary War. Before [341]beginning with that struggle, it may be well to supplement the rough estimate of England's total naval force, given, in lack of more precise information, by the statement of the First Lord of the Admiralty made in the House of Lords in November, 1777, a very few months before the war with France began. Replying to a complaint of the opposition as to the smallness of the Channel fleet, he said:—
The evaluation of the relative strength of the two navies, both in terms of resources and morale, has taken us beyond the start of the American Revolutionary War. Before [341] diving into that conflict, it’s useful to add to the rough estimate of England's total naval strength, which was provided, due to a lack of better information, by the First Lord of the Admiralty in the House of Lords in November 1777, just a few months before the war with France began. In response to an opposition complaint about the size of the Channel fleet, he stated:—
"We have now forty-two ships-of-the-line in commission in Great Britain (without counting those on foreign service), thirty-five of which are completely manned, and ready for sea at a moment's warning.... I do not believe that either France or Spain entertains any hostile disposition toward us; but from what I have now submitted to you, I am authorized to affirm that our navy is more than a match for that of the whole House of Bourbon."[117]
"We currently have forty-two battleships actively serving in Great Britain (not including those deployed overseas), thirty-five of which are fully staffed and ready to set sail at a moment's notice... I don't think that either France or Spain holds any hostile intentions toward us; however, based on what I've presented to you, I can confidently state that our navy can easily stand up to that of the entire House of Bourbon."[117]
It must, however, be said that this pleasing prospect was not realized by Admiral Keppel when appointed to command in the following March, and looking at his fleet with (to use his own apt expression) "a seaman's eye;"[118] and in June he went to sea with only twenty ships.
It should be noted, though, that Admiral Keppel did not see this promising scenario come to life when he was appointed to command in March. Looking at his fleet with (as he aptly put it) "a seaman's eye;"[118] and in June, he set out to sea with just twenty ships.
It is plainly undesirable to insert in a narrative of this character any account of the political questions which led to the separation of the United States from the British Empire. It has already been remarked that the separation followed upon a succession of blunders by the English ministry,—not unnatural in view of the ideas generally prevalent at that day as to the relations of colonies to the mother-country. It needed a man of commanding genius to recognize, not only the substantial justice of the American claims,—many did that,—but also the military strength of their situation, as before indicated. This lay in the distance of the colonies from home, their nearness to each other independently of the command of the sea, the character of the colonists,—mainly of English and Dutch stock,—and the probable hostility of France and Spain. Unfortunately for England, the men most able to cope with the situation were in the minority and out of office.
It’s clearly not ideal to include in this story any details about the political issues that led to the separation of the United States from the British Empire. It has already been noted that the separation followed a series of mistakes made by the English government—mistakes that weren’t surprising given the common beliefs at that time about the relationship between colonies and their mother country. It took a person of exceptional talent to see not only the fairness of the American demands—many recognized that—but also the military strength of their position, as mentioned earlier. This strength came from the colonies being far from home, their proximity to one another despite the naval control, the background of the colonists—mainly of English and Dutch descent—and the likely opposition from France and Spain. Unfortunately for England, the people most capable of addressing the situation were in the minority and out of power.
[342]It has been said before that, had the thirteen colonies been islands, the sea power of Great Britain would have so completely isolated them that their fall, one after the other, must have ensued. To this it may be added that the narrowness of the strip then occupied by civilized man, and the manner in which it was intersected by estuaries of the sea and navigable rivers, practically reduced to the condition of islands, so far as mutual support went, great sections of the insurgent country, which were not large enough to stand alone, yet too large for their fall not to have been a fatal blow to the common cause. The most familiar case is that of the line of the Hudson, where the Bay of New York was held from the first by the British, who also took the city in September, 1776, two months after the Declaration of Independence. The difficulties in the way of moving up and down such a stream were doubtless much greater to sailing vessels than they now are to steamers; yet it seems impossible to doubt that active and capable men wielding the great sea power of England could so have held that river and Lake Champlain with ships-of-war at intervals and accompanying galleys as to have supported a sufficient army moving between the head-waters of the Hudson and the lake, while themselves preventing any intercourse by water between New England and the States west of the river. This operation would have closely resembled that by which in the Civil War the United States fleets and armies gradually cut in twain the Southern Confederacy by mastering the course of the Mississippi, and the political results would have been even more important than the military; for at that early stage of the war the spirit of independence was far more general and bitter in the section that would have been cut off,—in New England,—than in New York and New Jersey, perhaps than anywhere except in South Carolina.[119]
[342]It's been said before that if the thirteen colonies had been islands, Great Britain's naval power would have isolated them so completely that they would have fallen one by one. It can also be added that the limited area occupied by civilized people and the way it was divided by sea estuaries and navigable rivers effectively reduced large sections of the rebellious territory to a state similar to islands in terms of mutual support. These areas were not big enough to stand on their own, but their loss would have dealt a critical blow to the overall cause. A well-known example is the Hudson River, where the British held New York Bay from the start and captured the city in September 1776, just two months after the Declaration of Independence. The challenges of navigating such a river were definitely greater for sailing ships back then than they are today for steamers; however, it's hard to doubt that skilled men with Britain’s naval power could have controlled the river and Lake Champlain with warships and accompanying galleys, effectively supporting a substantial army moving between the Hudson's headwaters and the lake while blocking any water communication between New England and the states west of the river. This operation would have closely mirrored the strategy used by U.S. fleets and armies in the Civil War to gradually split the Southern Confederacy by controlling the Mississippi River, and the political implications would have been even more significant than the military ones. At that early stage of the war, the desire for independence was much stronger and more intense in the area that would have been cut off—New England—than in New York and New Jersey, and perhaps only South Carolina had a greater sense of urgency. [119]
[343]In 1777 the British attempted to accomplish this object by sending General Burgoyne from Canada to force his way by Lake Champlain to the Hudson. At the same time Sir Henry Clinton moved north from New York with three thousand men, and reached West Point, whence he sent by shipping a part of his force up the river to within forty miles of Albany. Here the officer in command learned of the surrender of Burgoyne at Saratoga, and returned; but what he did at the head of a detachment from a main body of only three thousand, shows what might have been done under a better system. While this was happening on the Hudson, the English commander-in-chief of the troops acting in America had curiously enough made use of the sea power of his nation to transport the bulk of his army—fourteen thousand men—from New York to the head of Chesapeake Bay, so as to take Philadelphia in the rear. This eccentric movement was successful as regarded its objective, Philadelphia; but it was determined by political considerations, because Philadelphia was the seat of Congress, and was contrary to sound military policy. The conquest therefore was early lost; but it was yet more dearly won, for by this diversion of the British forces the different corps were placed out of mutual support, and the control of the water-line of the Hudson was abandoned. While Burgoyne, with seven thousand regular troops, besides auxiliaries, was moving down to seize the head-waters of the river, fourteen thousand men were removed from its mouth to the Chesapeake. The eight thousand left in or near New York were consequently tied to the city by the presence of the American army in New Jersey. This disastrous step was taken in August; in October Burgoyne, isolated and hemmed in, surrendered. In the following May [344]the English evacuated Philadelphia, and after a painful and perilous march through New Jersey, with Washington's army in close pursuit, regained New York.
[343]In 1777, the British tried to achieve their goal by sending General Burgoyne from Canada to push through Lake Champlain to the Hudson River. At the same time, Sir Henry Clinton advanced north from New York with three thousand men, reaching West Point, where he sent part of his troops by ship up the river to about forty miles from Albany. There, the officer in charge learned of Burgoyne's surrender at Saratoga and turned back; however, what he accomplished with only a small detachment from a main body of three thousand shows what could have been achieved with better coordination. While this was happening on the Hudson, the British commander-in-chief in America had interestingly used his country's naval power to transport most of his army—fourteen thousand men—from New York to the head of Chesapeake Bay, intending to attack Philadelphia from the rear. This unusual maneuver succeeded in its goal, Philadelphia, but it was motivated by political reasons, as Philadelphia was the meeting place for Congress, and it conflicted with sound military strategy. The conquest was quickly lost; however, it was gained at a high cost, as diverting British forces spread them too thin, weakening their support and abandoning control of the Hudson’s waterway. While Burgoyne was moving down with seven thousand regular troops and their allies to seize the river’s headwaters, fourteen thousand men were sent from its mouth to the Chesapeake. The eight thousand left in or near New York were consequently restricted to the city due to the American army's presence in New Jersey. This unfortunate decision occurred in August; by October, Burgoyne, cut off and surrounded, surrendered. The following May, [344]the British evacuated Philadelphia and, after a challenging and dangerous march through New Jersey, with Washington's army closely following, they returned to New York.
This taking of the British fleet to the head of the Chesapeake, coupled with the ascent of the Potomac in 1814 by English sailing-frigates, shows another weak line in the chain of the American colonies; but it was not, like that of the Hudson and Champlain, a line both ends of which rested in the enemy's power,—in Canada on the one hand, on the sea on the other.
This movement of the British fleet to the top of the Chesapeake, along with the advancement of English sailing frigates up the Potomac in 1814, reveals another vulnerable point in the American colonies' defense; however, unlike the situation with the Hudson and Champlain, this line didn't have both ends controlled by the enemy—one end in Canada and the other at sea.
As to the sea warfare in general, it is needless to enlarge upon the fact that the colonists could make no head against the fleets of Great Britain, and were consequently forced to abandon the sea to them, resorting only to a cruising warfare, mainly by privateers, for which their seamanship and enterprise well fitted them, and by which they did much injury to English commerce. By the end of 1778 the English naval historian estimates that American privateers had taken nearly a thousand merchant-ships, valued at nearly £2,000,000; he claims, however, that the losses of the Americans were heavier. They should have been; for the English cruisers were both better supported and individually more powerful, while the extension of American commerce had come to be the wonder of the statesmen of the mother-country. When the war broke out, it was as great as that of England herself at the beginning of the century.
Regarding naval warfare overall, it's clear that the colonists couldn't stand up against the British fleets, so they had to leave the seas to them and relied on a cruising strategy mainly using privateers, for which they had the skills and adventurous spirit. This approach caused significant damage to English trade. By the end of 1778, English naval historians estimated that American privateers had captured nearly a thousand merchant ships valued at around £2,000,000; however, they also noted that American losses were greater. This was to be expected because British cruisers were better supported and more powerful, while the growth of American trade had become a point of admiration for British lawmakers. At the start of the war, American trade was as significant as England's had been at the beginning of the century.
An interesting indication of the number of the seafaring population of North America at that time is given by the statement in Parliament by the First Lord of the Admiralty, "that the navy had lost eighteen thousand of the seamen employed in the last war by not having America,"[120]—no inconsiderable loss to a sea power, particularly if carried over to the ranks of the enemy.
An interesting indication of the number of seafaring people in North America at that time is provided by the statement in Parliament by the First Lord of the Admiralty, "that the navy had lost eighteen thousand of the sailors employed in the last war by not having America,"[120]—a significant loss for a naval power, especially if it had benefited the enemy's ranks.
The course of warfare on the sea gave rise, as always, to grievances of neutrals against the English for the seizures of their ships in the American trade. Such provocation, however, [345]was not necessary to excite the enmity and the hopes of France in the harassed state of the British government. The hour of reckoning, of vengeance, at which the policy of Choiseul had aimed, seemed now at hand. The question was early entertained at Paris what attitude should be assumed, what advantage drawn from the revolt of the colonies. It was decided that the latter should receive all possible support short of an actual break with England; and to this end a Frenchman named Beaumarchais was furnished with money to establish a business house which should supply the colonists with warlike stores. France gave a million francs, to which Spain added an equal sum, and Beaumarchais was allowed to buy from government arsenals. Meanwhile agents were received from the United States, and French officers passed into its service with little real hindrance from their government. Beaumarchais' house was started in 1776; in December of that year Benjamin Franklin landed in France, and in May, 1777, Lafayette came to America. Meanwhile the preparations for war, especially for a sea war, were pushed on; the navy was steadily increased, and arrangements were made for threatening an invasion from the Channel, while the real scene of the war was to be in the colonies. There France was in the position of a man who has little to lose. Already despoiled of Canada, she had every reason to believe that a renewal of war, with Europe neutral and the Americans friends instead of enemies, would not rob her of her islands. Recognizing that the Americans, who less than twenty years before had insisted upon the conquest of Canada, would not consent to her regaining it, she expressly stipulated that she would have no such hopes, but exacted that in the coming war she should retain any English West Indian possessions which she could seize. Spain was differently situated. Hating England, wanting to regain Gibraltar, Minorca, and Jamaica,—no mere jewels in her crown, but foundation-stones of her sea power,—she nevertheless saw that the successful rebellion of the English colonists against the hitherto unrivalled sea power of the mother-country would be a dangerous example to her own enormous [346]colonial system, from which she yearly drew so great subsidies. If England with her navy should fail, what could Spain achieve? In the introductory chapter it was pointed out that the income of the Spanish government was drawn, not as a light tax upon a wealthy sea power, built upon the industry and commerce of the kingdom, but from a narrow stream of gold and silver trickling through a few treasure-ships loaded with the spoils of colonies administered upon the narrowest system. Spain had much to lose, as well as to gain. It was true still, as in 1760, that she was the power with which England could war to the greatest advantage. Nevertheless, existing injuries and dynastic sympathy carried the day. Spain entered upon the secretly hostile course pursued by France.
The course of warfare at sea led to complaints from neutral parties against the English for seizing their ships involved in American trade. However, such provocations were not needed to stir up France's resentment and hopes during the troubled times for the British government. The moment for revenge that Choiseul's policies had aimed for seemed to be arriving. Early on, discussions were held in Paris about what stance to take and how to benefit from the colonies' revolt. It was decided to provide as much support as possible to the colonists without actually breaking away from England. To facilitate this, a Frenchman named Beaumarchais was given funding to set up a business that would supply the colonists with military supplies. France contributed a million francs, with Spain adding an equal amount, and Beaumarchais was permitted to purchase from government arsenals. Meanwhile, agents from the United States were welcomed, and French officers joined their service with minimal interference from their government. Beaumarchais' business was established in 1776; in December of that year, Benjamin Franklin arrived in France, and Lafayette came to America in May 1777. Preparations for war, especially naval operations, were ramped up; the navy was steadily expanded, and plans were made to threaten an invasion from the Channel, while the main battlefront was to be in the colonies. France found itself in the position of having little to lose. Already stripped of Canada, it had every reason to believe that renewed warfare, with Europe neutral and the Americans as allies rather than foes, wouldn't cost it its islands. Acknowledging that the Americans, who had pushed for the conquest of Canada less than twenty years earlier, would not allow it to regain Canada, France specifically mentioned it would have no such aspirations but insisted that in the coming war, it should keep any English West Indian territories it could capture. Spain was in a different position. Despising England and eager to reclaim Gibraltar, Minorca, and Jamaica—essential not just as jewel-like acquisitions but as cornerstones of its naval power—Spain also recognized that the successful rebellion of English colonists against their previously unmatched sea power could set a perilous precedent for its own vast colonial empire, from which it derived significant revenue each year. If England's navy failed, what could Spain hope to accomplish? As noted in the introductory chapter, Spain’s income was not derived from a robust tax on a wealthy maritime power based on the kingdom's industry and commerce, but from a limited flow of gold and silver trickling through a few treasure ships filled with spoils from its tightly governed colonies. Spain stood to lose as much as it could gain. It remained true, as in 1760, that it was the power with which England could fight most effectively. Still, the existing grievances and dynastic loyalty prevailed, leading Spain to embark on the secretly hostile path pursued by France.
To this explosive condition of things the news of Burgoyne's surrender acted as a spark. The experience of former wars had taught France the worth of the Americans as enemies, and she was expecting to find in them valuable helpers in her schemes of revenge; now it seemed that even alone they might be able to take care of themselves, and reject any alliance. The tidings reached Europe on the 2d of December, 1777; on the 16th the French foreign minister informed the commissioners of Congress that the king was ready to recognize the independence of the United States, and to make with them a commercial treaty and contingent defensive alliance. The speed with which the business was done shows that France had made up her mind; and the treaty, so momentous in its necessary consequences, was signed on the 6th of February, 1778.
To this volatile situation, the news of Burgoyne's surrender acted like a spark. Previous wars had taught France the value of the Americans as adversaries, and she expected to find in them valuable allies for her plans of revenge; now it seemed that they might even be able to stand on their own and decline any alliance. The news reached Europe on December 2, 1777; by the 16th, the French foreign minister informed the Congress commissioners that the king was ready to recognize the independence of the United States and to establish a commercial treaty and potential defensive alliance with them. The speed at which this happened shows that France had made her decision; and the treaty, so significant in its necessary consequences, was signed on February 6, 1778.
It is not necessary to give the detailed terms of the treaty; but it is important to observe, first, that the express renunciation of Canada and Nova Scotia by France foreshadowed that political theory which is now known as the Monroe doctrine, the claims of which can scarcely be made good without an adequate sea-force; and next, that the alliance with France, and subsequently with Spain, brought to the Americans that which they above all needed,—a sea power to counterbalance [347]that of England. Will it be too much for American pride to admit that, had France refused to contest the control of the sea with England, the latter would have been able to reduce the Atlantic seaboard? Let us not kick down the ladder by which we mounted, nor refuse to acknowledge what our fathers felt in their hour of trial.
It’s not necessary to go into the detailed terms of the treaty, but it’s important to note, first, that France’s clear renunciation of Canada and Nova Scotia hinted at the political theory now known as the Monroe Doctrine, which can hardly be upheld without a strong naval force; and second, that the alliance with France, and later with Spain, provided the Americans with what they urgently needed—naval power to counterbalance [347] England's dominance. Is it too much to ask for American pride to acknowledge that if France had chosen not to challenge England’s control of the seas, England could have easily taken over the Atlantic coast? Let’s not forget the support that helped us rise, nor deny what our ancestors felt during their struggles.
Before going on with the story of this maritime war, the military situation as it existed in the different parts of the world should be stated.
Before continuing with the story of this naval war, it's important to outline the military situation as it was in various parts of the world.
The three features which cause it to differ markedly from that at the opening of the Seven Years' War, in 1756, are—(1) the hostile relation of America to England; (2) the early appearance of Spain as the ally of France; and (3) the neutrality of the other continental States, which left France without preoccupation on the land side.
The three key differences between this and the situation at the start of the Seven Years' War in 1756 are—(1) the antagonistic relationship between America and England; (2) Spain's early role as an ally of France; and (3) the neutrality of other continental nations, which allowed France to focus on its interests without land-based concerns.
On the North American continent the Americans had held Boston for two years. Narragansett Bay and Rhode Island were occupied by the English, who also held New York and Philadelphia. Chesapeake Bay and its entrance, being without strong posts, were in the power of any fleet that appeared against them. In the South, since the unsuccessful attack upon Charlestown in 1776, no movement of importance had been made by the English; up to the declaration of war by France the chief events of the war had been north of the Chesapeake (of Baltimore). In Canada, on the other hand, the Americans had failed, and it remained to the end a firm base to the English power.
On the North American continent, the Americans had held Boston for two years. Narragansett Bay and Rhode Island were occupied by the British, who also controlled New York and Philadelphia. Chesapeake Bay and its entrance, lacking strong defenses, were vulnerable to any fleet that came against them. In the South, after the unsuccessful assault on Charleston in 1776, the British hadn’t made any significant moves; up until France declared war, the main events of the conflict had taken place north of the Chesapeake (of Baltimore). In Canada, on the other hand, the Americans had failed, and it remained a stronghold for British power until the end.
In Europe the most significant element to be noted is the state of preparedness of the French navy, and to some extent of the Spanish, as compared with previous wars. England stood wholly on the defensive, and without allies; while the Bourbon kings aimed at the conquest of Gibraltar and Port Mahon, and the invasion of England. The first two, however, were the dear objects of Spain, the last of France; and this divergence of aims was fatal to the success of this maritime coalition. In the introductory chapter allusion was made to the strategic question raised by these two policies.
In Europe, the most important thing to note is the readiness of the French navy, and to some extent the Spanish, compared to past wars. England was completely on the defensive and had no allies. Meanwhile, the Bourbon kings aimed to conquer Gibraltar and Port Mahon, and invade England. The first two were Spain's primary goals, while the latter was France's; this difference in objectives ultimately doomed the success of this maritime coalition. The introductory chapter mentioned the strategic issue raised by these two policies.
[348]In the West Indies the grip of the two combatants on the land was in fact about equal, though it should not have been so. Both France and England were strongly posted in the Windward Islands,—the one at Martinique, the other at Barbadoes. It must be noted that the position of the latter, to windward of all others of the group, was a decided strategic advantage in the days of sail. As it happened, the fighting was pretty nearly confined to the neighborhood of the Lesser Antilles. Here, at the opening of the struggle, the English island of Dominica lay between the French Martinique and Guadeloupe; it was therefore coveted and seized. Next south of Martinique lay Sta. Lucia, a French colony. Its strong harbor on the lee side, known as Gros Ilot Bay, was a capital place from which to watch the proceedings of the French navy in Fort Royal, Martinique. The English captured the island, and from that safe anchorage Rodney watched and pursued the French fleet before his famous action in 1782. The islands to the southward were of inferior military consequence. In the greater islands, Spain should have outweighed England, holding as she did Cuba, Porto Rico, and, with France, Hayti, as against Jamaica alone. Spain, however, counted here for nothing but a dead-weight; and England had elsewhere too much on her hands to attack her. The only point in America where the Spanish arms made themselves felt was in the great region east of the Mississippi, then known as Florida, which, though at that time an English possession, did not join the revolt of the colonies.
[348]In the West Indies, both France and England had roughly equal control over the land, even though it shouldn't have been that way. France was strongly positioned in the Windward Islands at Martinique, while England was at Barbados. It's worth noting that Barbados had a major strategic advantage because it was located windward of all the other islands at the time when sailing was the main means of travel. The fighting primarily happened around the Lesser Antilles. At the beginning of the conflict, the English-held island of Dominica was situated between the French islands of Martinique and Guadeloupe, making it a sought-after target that was quickly taken. To the south of Martinique was St. Lucia, a French colony. Its well-protected harbor on the sheltered side, called Gros Ilot Bay, was an excellent spot for monitoring the French navy in Fort Royal, Martinique. The English captured the island, and from that secure anchorage, Rodney kept an eye on and pursued the French fleet before his famous battle in 1782. The islands further south were of less military importance. In the larger islands, Spain should have had an advantage over England since it controlled Cuba, Puerto Rico, and, along with France, Haiti, compared to Jamaica alone. However, Spain had little real impact here and was just a dead weight; England had too much going on elsewhere to launch an attack against it. The only place in America where the Spanish military had influence was in the vast region east of the Mississippi, known as Florida, which, although it was an English territory at the time, did not join in the colonies' rebellion.
In the East Indies it will be remembered that France had received back her stations at the peace of 1763; but the political predominance of the English in Bengal was not offset by similar control of the French in any part of the peninsula. During the ensuing years the English had extended and strengthened their power, favored in so doing by the character of their chief representatives, Clive and Warren Hastings. Powerful native enemies had, however, risen against them in the south of the peninsula, both on the east and west, [349]affording an excellent opportunity for France to regain her influence when the war broke out; but her government and people remained blind to the possibilities of that vast region. Not so England. The very day the news of the outbreak of war reached Calcutta, July 7, 1778, Hastings sent orders to the governor of Madras to attack Pondicherry, and set the example by seizing Chandernagore. The naval force of each nation was insignificant; but the French commodore, after a brief action, forsook Pondicherry, which surrendered after a siege by land and sea of seventy days. The following March, 1779, Mahé, the last French settlement, fell, and the French flag again disappeared; while at the same time there arrived a strong English squadron of six ships-of-the-line under Admiral Hughes. The absence of any similar French force gave the entire control of the sea to the English until the arrival of Suffren, nearly three years later. In the mean while Holland had been drawn into the war, and her stations, Negapatam on the Coromandel coast, and the very important harbor of Trincomalee in Ceylon, were both captured, the latter in January, 1782, by the joint forces of the army and navy. The successful accomplishment of these two enterprises completed the military situation in Hindostan at the time when the arrival of Suffren, just one month later, turned the nominal war into a desperate and bloody contest. Suffren found himself with a decidedly stronger squadron, but without a port, either French or allied, on which to base his operations against the English.
In the East Indies, it's important to remember that France got back her territories after the peace treaty in 1763; however, the political dominance of the English in Bengal wasn't balanced by similar French control anywhere in the region. Over the following years, the English expanded and solidified their power, thanks in part to their key figures, Clive and Warren Hastings. Nevertheless, powerful local enemies rose against them in the southern part of the peninsula, both east and west, [349]creating a great opportunity for France to regain her influence when the war broke out, but her government and citizens failed to see the potential of that vast area. England, however, was quick to act. The very day news of the war's outbreak reached Calcutta, July 7, 1778, Hastings ordered the governor of Madras to attack Pondicherry and led the way by seizing Chandernagore. The naval capacities of both nations were limited, but the French commodore, after a short battle, abandoned Pondicherry, which surrendered after a siege by land and sea lasting seventy days. The following March, 1779, Mahé, the last French settlement, fell, leading to the disappearance of the French flag; at the same time, a strong English squadron of six ships-of-the-line under Admiral Hughes arrived. The lack of a comparable French force allowed the English to have complete control of the sea until Suffren's arrival nearly three years later. In the meantime, Holland got involved in the war, and both her stations, Negapatam on the Coromandel coast and the crucial harbor of Trincomalee in Ceylon, were captured, with the latter taken in January 1782 by the combined forces of the army and navy. The successful completion of these two operations finalized the military situation in Hindostan just as Suffren arrived, one month later, turning the nominal war into a fierce and bloody fight. Suffren found himself with a notably stronger squadron but without any port, either French or allied, for launching his operations against the English.
Of these four chief theatres of the war, two, North America and the West Indies, as might be expected from their nearness, blend and directly affect each other. This is not so obviously the case with the struggles in Europe and India. The narrative therefore naturally falls into three principal divisions, which may to some extent be treated separately. After such separate consideration their mutual influence will be pointed out, together with any useful lessons to be gathered from the goodness or badness, the success or failure, of the grand combinations, and from the part played by sea power.
Of these four main theaters of the war, two—North America and the West Indies—naturally influence each other due to their proximity. The same isn't as clear for the conflicts in Europe and India. So, the narrative is divided into three main sections, which can be examined somewhat independently. After looking at each separately, we will highlight their interconnections, along with any valuable insights to be gained from the successes or failures of the overall strategies and the role of naval power.
[350]On the 13th of March, 1778, the French ambassador at London notified the English government that France had acknowledged the independence of the United States, and made with them a treaty of commerce and defensive alliance. England at once recalled her ambassador; but though war was imminent and England at disadvantage, the Spanish king offered mediation, and France wrongly delayed to strike. In June, Admiral Keppel sailed from Portsmouth, with twenty ships, on a cruise. Falling in with two French frigates, his guns, to bring them to, opened the war. Finding from their papers that thirty-two French ships lay in Brest, he at once returned for reinforcements. Sailing again with thirty ships, he fell in with the French fleet under D'Orvilliers to the westward of Ushant, and to windward, with a westerly wind. On the 27th of July was fought the first fleet action of the war, generally known as the battle of Ushant.
[350]On March 13, 1778, the French ambassador in London informed the English government that France had recognized the independence of the United States and had signed a treaty of commerce and defensive alliance with them. England immediately recalled her ambassador; however, even though war was on the horizon and England was at a disadvantage, the Spanish king offered to mediate, and France mistakenly delayed action. In June, Admiral Keppel set sail from Portsmouth with twenty ships on a mission. When he encountered two French frigates, his guns fired to bring them to, officially starting the war. Discovering from their documents that thirty-two French ships were in Brest, he quickly returned for reinforcements. Sailing again with thirty ships, he met the French fleet under D'Orvilliers to the west of Ushant, with a westerly wind at his back. On July 27, the first major naval battle of the war, commonly known as the battle of Ushant, took place.
This battle, in which thirty ships-of-the-line fought on either side, was wholly indecisive in its results. No ship was taken or sunk; both fleets, after separating, returned to their respective ports. The action nevertheless obtained great celebrity in England from the public indignation at its lack of result, and from the storm of naval and political controversy which followed. The admiral and the officer third in command belonged to different political parties; they made charges, one against the other, and in the following courts-martial all England divided, chiefly on party lines. Public and naval sentiment generally favored the commander-in-chief, Keppel.
This battle, with thirty battleships on each side, had completely inconclusive results. Neither side captured or sank any ships; both fleets went back to their ports after separating. However, the event gained significant attention in England due to public outrage over its lack of outcome and the intense naval and political debate that followed. The admiral and the third-in-command were from opposing political parties, and they leveled accusations against each other. In the subsequent courts-martial, England became divided, mostly along party lines. Overall, public and naval opinion tended to support the commander-in-chief, Keppel.
Tactically, the battle presents some interesting features, and involves one issue which is still living to-day. Keppel was to leeward and wished to force an action; in order to do this he signalled a general chase to windward, so that his fastest ships might overtake the slower ones of the enemy. Granting equal original fleet-speed, this was quite correct. D'Orvilliers, to windward, had no intention of fighting except on his own terms. As will generally be the case, the fleet acting on the offensive obtained its wish. At daybreak of the 27th both fleets were on the port tack, heading west-northwest, with a [351]steady breeze at southwest (Plate IX., A, A, A).[121] The English rear (R) had fallen to leeward,[122] and Keppel consequently made signal to six of its ships to chase to windward, so as to place them in a better position to support the main body if it could get into action. D'Orvilliers observed this movement, and construed it to show an intention to attack his rear with a superior force. The two fleets being then from six to eight miles apart, he wore his fleet in succession (French A to B), by which he lost ground to leeward, but approached the enemy, and was able to see them better (Positions B, B, B). At the completion of this evolution the wind hauled to the southward, favoring the English; so Keppel, instead of going about, stood on for half an hour more (English B to C), and then tacked together in wake of the French. This confirmed D'Orvilliers' suspicions, and as the wind, which certainly favored the English that morning, now hauled back again to the westward, permitting them to lay up for the French rear, he wore his fleet together (B to C), thus bringing the rest to aid the rear, now become the van, and preventing Keppel from concentrating on or penetrating it. The two fleets thus passed on opposite tacks (C),[123] exchanging ineffective broadsides, the French running free to windward and having the power to attack, but not using it. D'Orvilliers then made the signal for his van, formerly the rear, to wear to leeward of the English rear, which was to leeward of its [352]own main body, intending himself to remain to windward and so attack it on both sides; but the commander of that division, a prince of the blood royal, did not obey, and the possible advantage was lost. On the English side the same manœuvre was attempted. The admiral of the van and some of his ships tacked, as soon as out of fire (D),[124] and stood after the French rear; but for the most part the damage to rigging prevented tacking, and wearing was impossible on account of the ships coming up behind. The French now stood to leeward and formed line again, but the English were not in condition to attack. This was the end of the battle.
Tactically, the battle has some interesting aspects and brings up an issue that still matters today. Keppel was downwind and wanted to force an engagement; to do this, he signaled a general chase upwind so that his fastest ships could catch up to the slower enemy ships. Assuming equal speed at the start, this was a good move. D'Orvilliers, upwind, didn’t want to fight unless it was on his terms. As is often the case, the fleet on the offensive got what it wanted. At dawn on the 27th, both fleets were on the port tack, heading west-northwest, with a steady breeze from the southwest (Plate IX., A, A, A). The English rear (R) had fallen downwind, so Keppel signaled six of its ships to chase upwind, to better support the main body if they could engage. D'Orvilliers noticed this movement and interpreted it as an intention to attack his rear with a stronger force. With the two fleets about six to eight miles apart, he turned his fleet in succession (French A to B), which resulted in losing ground downwind but getting closer to the enemy, allowing him to see them better (Positions B, B, B). After completing this maneuver, the wind shifted to the south, favoring the English. Instead of turning around, Keppel decided to continue on for another half hour (English B to C), then tacked in the wake of the French. This confirmed D'Orvilliers' suspicions, and as the wind, which had definitely favored the English that morning, shifted back to the west, enabling them to approach the French rear, he turned his fleet together (B to C), bringing the rest to support the rear, now at the front, and preventing Keppel from concentrating on or breaking through it. The two fleets then passed each other on opposite tacks (C), exchanging ineffective broadsides, with the French sailing free upwind and having the ability to attack, but not doing so. D'Orvilliers then signaled for his front, which used to be the rear, to turn downwind of the English rear, which was downwind of its own main body, planning to stay upwind and attack on both sides; however, the commander of that division, a royal prince, did not follow the order, and a potential advantage was lost. On the English side, the same maneuver was attempted. The admiral of the front and some of his ships tacked as soon as they were out of fire (D), and pursued the French rear; but mostly, damage to the rigging prevented them from tacking, and turning was impossible due to the ships coming up behind. The French then stood downwind and lined up again, but the English were not in a position to attack. This was the end of the battle.
It has been said that there are some interesting points about this resultless engagement. One is, that Keppel's conduct was approved throughout, on oath before the court-martial, by one of the most distinguished admirals England has brought forth, Sir John Jervis, who commanded a ship in the fleet. It does not indeed appear what he could have done more; but his lack of tactical understanding is shown by a curious remark in his defence. "If the French admiral really meant to come to action," says he, "I apprehend he would never have put his fleet on the contrary tack to that on which the British fleet was approaching." This remark can only proceed from ignorance or thoughtlessness of the danger to which the rear of the French fleet would have been exposed, and is the more curious as he himself had said the English were lying up for it. Keppel's idea seems to have been that the French should have waited for him to come up abreast, and then go at it, ship for ship, in what was to him the good old style; D'Orvilliers was too highly trained to be capable of such action.
It's been noted that there are some intriguing aspects of this unproductive engagement. One is that Keppel's actions were endorsed throughout, under oath before the court-martial, by one of the most esteemed admirals England has produced, Sir John Jervis, who was in command of a ship in the fleet. It's not clear what more he could have done; however, his lack of tactical insight is highlighted by a strange comment in his defense. "If the French admiral really intended to engage," he says, "I suspect he would never have put his fleet on a course opposite to that of the British fleet as it approached." This statement suggests ignorance or a lack of awareness of the risk that the rear of the French fleet would have faced, and it’s even more peculiar since he himself previously stated the English were set to engage it. Keppel seemed to believe that the French should have waited for him to come alongside, and then fight ship for ship in what he considered the traditional style; D'Orvilliers was too well-trained to resort to such tactics.
The failure of the Duc de Chartres,[125] commanding the French van during the firing, to wear in obedience to orders, [353]whether due to misunderstanding or misconduct, raises the question, which is still debated, as to the proper position for a naval commander-in-chief in action. Had D'Orvilliers been in the van, he could have insured the evolution he wished. From the centre the admiral has the extremities of his fleet equally visible, or invisible, as it may be. At the head he enforces his orders by his example. The French toward the end of this war solved the question by taking him out of the line altogether and putting him on board a frigate, for the avowed reasons that he could thus better see the movements of his fleet and of the enemy without being blinded by smoke or distracted by the occurrences on board his own ship, and that his signals could be better seen.[126] This position, resembling somewhat that of a general on shore, being remote from personal risk, was also assumed by Lord Howe in 1778; but both that officer and the French abandoned the practice later. Nelson at Trafalgar, the end of his career, led his column; but it may be doubted whether he had any other motive than his ardor for battle. The two other great attacks in which he commanded in chief were directed against ships at anchor, and in neither did he take the head of the column; for the good reason that, his knowledge of the ground being imperfect, the leading ship was in most danger of grounding. The common practice in the days of broadside sailing-ships, except when a general chase was ordered, was for the admiral to be in the line, and in the centre of it. The departure from this custom on the part of both Nelson and Collingwood, each of whom led his own columns at Trafalgar, may have had some reason, and an ordinary man rather shrinks from criticising the action of officers of their eminence. The danger to which were exposed the two senior officers of the fleet, upon whom so much depended, is obvious; and had any serious injury befallen their persons, or the head of their columns, the lack of their influence would have been seriously felt. As it was, they were [354]speedily obliterated, as admirals, in the smoke of the battle, leaving to those who came after them no guidance or control except the brilliancy of their courage and example. A French admiral has pointed out that the practical effect of the mode of attack at Trafalgar, two columns bearing down upon a line at right angles to them, was to sacrifice the head of the columns in making two breaches in the enemy's line. So far, very well; the sacrifice was well worth while; and into these breaches came up the rear ships of each column, nearly fresh, forming in fact a reserve which fell upon the shattered ships of the enemy on either side of the breaks. Now this idea of a reserve prompts a thought as to the commander-in-chief. The size of his ship was such as precluded its being out of the order; but would it not have been well had the admiral of each column been with this reserve, keeping in his hands the power of directing it according to the chances of the action, making him a reality as well as a name for some time longer, and to a very useful purpose? The difficulty of arranging any system of signals or light despatch-boats which could take the place of the aids or messengers of a general, coupled with the fact that ships cannot stand still, as divisions of men do, waiting orders, but that they must have steerage-way, precludes the idea of putting an admiral of a fleet under way in a light vessel. By so doing he becomes simply a spectator; whereas by being in the most powerful ship of the fleet he retains the utmost weight possible after action is once engaged, and, if this ship be in the reserve, the admiral keeps to the latest possible moment the power of commander-in-chief in his own hands. "Half a loaf is better than no bread;" if the admiral cannot, from the conditions of sea warfare, occupy the calmly watchful position of his brother on shore, let there be secured for him as much as may be. The practice of Farragut after New Orleans and Vicksburg, that is to say, in the latter part of his career, when it may be believed experience had determined his views, was to lead in person. It is known that he very reluctantly, at the solicitation of various officers, yielded his convictions in this matter at Mobile so far as to take the [355]second place, and afterward freely expressed his regrets for having done so. It may, however, be argued that the character of all the actions in which Farragut commanded had a peculiarity, differentiating them from battles in the strict sense of the word. At New Orleans, at Vicksburg, at Port Hudson, and at Mobile, the task was not to engage, but to pass fortifications which the fleet confessedly could not stand up to; and the passage was to be made under conditions mainly of pilotage upon ground as to which, unlike Nelson, he had good knowledge. There was thus imposed upon the commander-in-chief the duty of leadership in the literal, as well as the military, sense of the term. So leading, he not only pointed out to the fleet the safe road, but, drawing continually ahead of the smoke, was better able to see and judge the path ahead, and to assume the responsibility of a course which he may have prescribed and intended throughout, but from which a subordinate might shrink. It has not perhaps been commonly noted, that at Mobile the leaders, not only of one but of both columns, at the critical point of the road hesitated and doubted as to the admiral's purpose; not that they had not received it clearly, but because circumstances seemed to them to be different from what he had supposed. Not only Alden in the "Brooklyn," but Craven also in the "Tecumseh," departed from the admiral's orders and left the course dictated to them, with disastrous results. There is no necessity to condemn either captain; but the irresistible inference is that Farragut was unqualifiedly right in his opinion that the man who alone has the highest responsibility should, under the conditions of his battles, be in the front. And here it must be remarked that at such critical moments of doubt any but the highest order of mind tends to throw off the responsibility of decision upon the superior, though from the instancy of the case hesitation or delay may be fatal. A man who as the commissioned chief would act intelligently, as the mere subordinate will balk. Nelson's action at St. Vincent will rarely be emulated, a truth which is strongly shown by the fact that Collingwood [356]was immediately in his rear that day, and did not imitate his action till signalled by the commander-in-chief; yet after receiving the authority of the signal, he particularly distinguished himself by his judgment and daring.[127] It will be recalled, also, in connection with this question of pilot-ground battles, that a central position nearly lost the flag-ship at New Orleans, owing to the darkness and to the smoke from the preceding ships; the United States fleet came near finding itself without its leader after the passage of the forts. Now as the mention of a reserve prompted one set of considerations, so the name of pilotage suggests certain ideas, broader than itself, which modify what has been said of keeping the admiral with the reserve. The ease and quickness with which a steam fleet can change its formation make it very probable that a fleet bearing down to attack may find itself, almost at the very moment of collision, threatened with some unlooked-for combination; then where would be the happiest position for an admiral? Doubtless in that part of his own [357]order where he could most readily pilot his ships into the new disposition, or direction, by which he would meet the changed conditions; that is, in the position of leading. It would seem that there are always two moments of greatest importance in a sea-fight; one which determines the method of the main attack, the other the bringing up and directing the effort of the reserve. If the first is more important, the second perhaps requires the higher order of ability; for the former may and should proceed on a before-determined plan, while the latter may, and often must, be shaped to meet unforeseen exigencies. The conditions of sea-battles of the future contain one element that land battles cannot have,—the extreme rapidity with which encounters and changes of order can take place. However troops may be moved by steam to the field of battle, they will there fight on foot or on horseback, and with a gradual development of their plan, which will allow the commander-in-chief time to make his wishes known (as a rule, of course), in case of a change in the enemy's attack. On the other hand, a fleet, comparatively small in numbers and with its component units clearly defined, may be meditating an important change of which no sign can appear until it begins, and which will occupy but a few minutes. So far as these remarks are sound, they show the need of a second in command thoroughly conversant with not only the plans, but with the leading principles of action of his chief,—a need plain enough from the fact that the two extremities of the order-of-battle may be necessarily remote, and that you want the spirit of the leader at both extremities. As he cannot be there in person, the best thing is to have an efficient second at one end. As regards Nelson's position at Trafalgar, mentioned at the beginning of this discussion, it is to be noted that the "Victory" did nothing that another ship could not have done as well, and that the lightness of the wind forbade the expectation of any sudden change in the enemy's order. The enormous risk run by the person of the admiral, on whose ship was concentrated the fire of the enemy's line, and which led several captains to implore [358]a change, was condemned long before by Nelson himself in one of his letters after the battle of the Nile:—
The failure of the Duc de Chartres,[125] commanding the French front during the firing, to follow orders, [353]whether due to misunderstanding or misconduct, raises an ongoing debate about the best position for a naval commander-in-chief in action. If D'Orvilliers had been at the front, he could have ensured the maneuver he wanted. From the center, the admiral can see all parts of his fleet, whether they are visible or hidden. At the front, he leads by example. Toward the end of this war, the French addressed this issue by removing him from the line entirely and placing him on a frigate, explicitly stating that this would allow him to better observe the movements of his fleet and the enemy without being obstructed by smoke or distracted by happenings on his own ship, and that his signals would be more easily visible.[126] This position, somewhat like that of a general on land, kept him away from personal risk, and was also taken by Lord Howe in 1778; however, both he and the French later abandoned this practice. Nelson, at Trafalgar, at the end of his career, led his column; but it’s questionable whether he had any other motivation than his passion for battle. The other two significant engagements where he commanded were against anchored ships, and in neither case did he take the head of the column; wisely so, given that his knowledge of the area was limited, making the leading ship most vulnerable to grounding. The typical practice in the age of broadside sailing ships, except during a general chase, was for the admiral to be in line, positioned in the center. The shift away from this custom by both Nelson and Collingwood, each of whom led his own columns at Trafalgar, likely had specific justifications, and it's generally inadvisable to criticize the actions of officers of such high stature. The danger to which the two senior officers of the fleet were exposed, on whom so much relied, is clear; had they suffered serious injuries, or if the heads of their columns had been compromised, the absence of their influence would have been keenly felt. Instead, they quickly became obscured, as admirals, in the smoke of battle, leaving those who followed with no guidance or control, aside from the brilliance of their courage and example. A French admiral pointed out that the tactical approach at Trafalgar, with two columns advancing on a line at right angles to them, sacrificed the heads of the columns to create breaches in the enemy’s line. This was justified; the sacrifice was worthwhile, and into these breaches surged the rear ships of each column, nearly fresh, effectively forming a reserve that struck the shattered enemy vessels on either side of the breaks. This concept of a reserve leads to a consideration about the commander-in-chief. His ship was too large to be outside the formation; but would it not have been better if the admiral of each column had been with this reserve, maintaining the ability to direct it based on shifting battle conditions, thus prolonging his role as a decisive leader for a time, and doing so very effectively? The challenge of implementing any signaling system or light dispatch boats to replace the aids or messengers of a general, along with the fact that ships cannot remain stationary like groups of infantry waiting for orders, but must keep moving, rules out the notion of deploying a fleet admiral in a small vessel. By doing so, he becomes merely a spectator; whereas being on the most powerful ship of the fleet gives him the greatest influence possible once the action commences, and if that ship is part of the reserve, the admiral retains command authority until the last possible moment. "Half a loaf is better than no bread;" if the admiral cannot assume the calmly observant position of a commander on land due to the realities of naval warfare, he should at least be provided with as much as possible. Farragut's practice after New Orleans and Vicksburg, that is, in the later part of his career when experience presumably shaped his views, was to lead in person. It’s known that he very reluctantly, at the urging of various officers, agreed to take the [355]second position at Mobile, and afterward openly expressed his regret for doing so. However, it could be argued that all actions commanded by Farragut had a distinct character, setting them apart from battles in the traditional sense of the word. At New Orleans, Vicksburg, Port Hudson, and Mobile, the objective wasn’t to engage, but to navigate past fortifications that the fleet acknowledged could not withstand. The passage needed to be carried out largely through piloting on familiar terrain, unlike Nelson, who had good knowledge of the area. This responsibility imposed upon the commander-in-chief the duty of leadership in the most literal as well as military sense. By leading, he not only showed the fleet the safe route, but by staying ahead of the smoke, was better positioned to see and assess the path ahead and to take responsibility for a course which he might have planned but that a subordinate might hesitate to take. It may not be widely recognized that during the critical moment at Mobile, leaders of both columns hesitated and questioned the admiral’s intent; not because they hadn’t understood it, but because the situation seemed different from what he had envisioned. Both Alden in the "Brooklyn" and Craven in the "Tecumseh" deviated from the admiral's orders and strayed from the designated course, resulting in catastrophic consequences. There’s no need to condemn either captain, but the undeniable conclusion is that Farragut was entirely correct in his belief that the person bearing the highest responsibility should, under the conditions of battle, be at the front. At such critical moments of uncertainty, any mind that isn’t of the highest caliber will tend to defer the responsibility of decision-making to the superior, even though hesitation or delay may be fatal in urgent situations. A commissioned chief acting decisively will succeed, whereas a mere subordinate may falter. Nelson's actions at St. Vincent are seldom replicated, a fact underscored by Collingwood [356]being immediately behind him that day yet not following his lead until signaled by the commander-in-chief; however, after receiving the signal, he notably distinguished himself through his judgment and courage.[127] It should also be remembered, in relation to pilot ground battles, that the central position nearly cost the flagship at New Orleans due to darkness and smoke from preceding ships; the United States fleet nearly found itself without its leader after passing the forts. Now as the reference to a reserve led to a set of considerations, the idea of piloting introduces broader concepts that modify what has been discussed about keeping the admiral with the reserve. The speed and flexibility with which a steam fleet can alter its formation make it very likely that a fleet advancing to attack might suddenly face an unexpected situation right at the moment of collision; then where would be the ideal position for an admiral? Undoubtedly in that part of his own [357]formation where he could most efficiently maneuver his ships into a new configuration to respond to the changed circumstances; that is, at the forefront. It seems there are always two key moments during a sea battle; one that determines the primary approach, and the other that involves bringing up and directing the efforts of the reserve. If the former is more critical, the latter may demand a higher level of skill; since the first can and should follow a pre-established plan, while the second may and often must adapt to unforeseen challenges. Future naval battles will feature one factor that land battles cannot— the rapidity with which confrontations and shifts in order can take place. While troops may be transported by steam to the battlefield, they will engage either on foot or horseback, and with a gradually evolving plan that typically allows the commander-in-chief time to communicate his intentions (as a general rule) in case of any changes in the enemy's assault. On the contrary, a fleet, which might be relatively small and with its units clearly defined, can be planning a significant alteration that might not be revealed until it begins, and which could take only a few minutes. If these assessments are valid, they highlight the necessity for a second in command who is thoroughly familiar not just with the plans but also with the guiding principles of action of his superior—a necessity evident from the fact that the two ends of the formation may be necessarily distant, requiring the leader's presence of mind in both positions. Since he can't physically be there, the best option is to have an effective second-in-command at one end. Regarding Nelson's position at Trafalgar, mentioned earlier, it is worth noting that the "Victory" did nothing that another ship couldn’t have done just as well, and the light wind made it unlikely that any sudden changes would be expected in the enemy's formation. The tremendous risk faced by the admiral, whose ship was the focal point of enemy fire, led several captains to urge [358]a change, a concern Nelson himself condemned long before in a letter after the Battle of the Nile:
"I think, if it had pleased God I had not been wounded, not a boat would have escaped to have told the tale; but do not believe that any individual in the fleet is to blame.... I only mean to say that if my experience could in person have directed those individuals, there was every appearance that Almighty God would have continued to bless my endeavors," etc.[128]
"I believe that if God had chosen for me not to get wounded, not a single boat would have made it back to share the story; but don't think that anyone in the fleet is at fault.... I just want to say that if my experience could have guided those individuals, it seemed likely that Almighty God would have continued to bless my efforts," etc.[128]
Yet, notwithstanding such an expression of opinion based upon experience, he took the most exposed position at Trafalgar, and upon the loss of the leader there followed a curious exemplification of its effects. Collingwood at once, rightly or wrongly, avoidably or unavoidably, reversed Nelson's plans, urged with his last breath. "Anchor! Hardy, do you anchor!" said the dying chief. "Anchor!" said Collingwood. "It is the last thing I should have thought of."
Yet, despite such an opinion based on experience, he took the most vulnerable position at Trafalgar, and after the leader’s loss, a strange example of its effects followed. Collingwood immediately, right or wrong, whether he could help it or not, changed Nelson's plans, urged with his last breath. "Anchor! Hardy, you must anchor!" said the dying leader. "Anchor!" replied Collingwood. "That's the last thing I would have thought of."
FOOTNOTES:
[113] Troude: Batailles Navales.
[114] Mahon: History of England.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mahon: History of England.
[115] Lapeyrouse-Bonfils, vol. iii. p. 5.
[118] Keppel's Defence.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Keppel's Defense.
[119] "A candid view of our affairs, which I am going to exhibit, will make you a judge of the difficulties under which we labor. Almost all our supplies of flour and no inconsiderable part of our meat are drawn from the States westward of Hudson's River. This renders a secure communication across that river indispensably necessary, both to the support of your squadron and the army. The enemy, being masters of that navigation, would interrupt this essential intercourse between the States. They have been sensible of these advantages.... If they could by any demonstration in another part draw our attention and strength from this important point, and by anticipating our return possess themselves of it, the consequences would be fatal. Our dispositions must therefore have equal regard to co-operating with you [at Boston] in a defensive plan, and securing the North River, which the remoteness of the two objects from each other renders peculiarly difficult."—Washington to D'Estaing, Sept. 11, 1778.
[119] "A straightforward look at our situation, which I'm about to share, will help you understand the challenges we face. Almost all our flour supplies and a significant portion of our meat come from the States west of the Hudson River. This makes having a secure communication route across that river absolutely necessary for the support of your squadron and the army. The enemy controls that waterway and could disrupt this crucial link between the States. They are aware of these advantages... If they could distract us elsewhere, draw our attention and resources away from this vital point, and take control of it before we return, the outcomes would be disastrous. Our plans must therefore carefully balance working with you [in Boston] on a defense strategy and securing the North River, which is particularly challenging due to the distance between the two objectives."—Washington D.C. to D'Estaing, Sept. 11, 1778.
[120] Annual Register, 1778, p. 201.
[121] In this plate the plan followed in every other instance, of showing only the characteristic phases of a battle, in succession, but disconnected, has been abandoned, and the attempt is to indicate continuously the series of manœuvres and the tracks by which the fleets at last came into contact (from A to C). As the battle consisted merely in the passage by each other of two fleets, moving in opposite parallel directions, an encounter always indecisive and futile, the previous manœuvres constitute the chief interest in an affair whose historical importance is due to other than tactical reasons.
[121] In this illustration, the usual approach of showing only the key phases of a battle in succession, but separately, has been set aside. Instead, the goal is to display continuously the sequence of maneuvers and the paths that led the fleets to finally confront each other (from A to C). Since the battle was simply the moment when the two fleets passed by each other, moving in opposite parallel lines, resulting in an encounter that was always inconclusive and pointless, the previous maneuvers are the main focus in a situation whose historical significance comes from reasons other than tactical ones.
[122] The line drawn through the centre of the English fleet at A shows the close-hauled line (south-southeast) on which, by strict tactical requirement, the English ships should have borne from each other.
[122] The line marked in the middle of the English fleet at A indicates the close-hauled line (south-southeast) that, according to strict tactical rules, the English ships should have maintained from one another.
[123] The leading ships of the two fleets diverged from each other (C), which is, by the French, attributed to the English van keeping away; by the English it is said that the French van luffed. The latter account is followed in the diagrams.
[123] The front ships of the two fleets moved apart from each other (C), which the French say was because the English vanguard veered off; the English claim that the French vanguard turned upward. The latter explanation is shown in the diagrams.
[124] The position D, separated from the rest of the plan, shows the end of the passage by, which began at C. It could not be shown in connection with the other tracks without producing confusion.
[124] Position D, cut off from the rest of the plan, indicates where the passage ends, which started at C. It couldn’t be shown alongside the other tracks without causing confusion.
[127] The following incident, occurring during Rodney's chase of De Grasse, in April, 1782, shows how far subordination may be carried. Hood was one of the finest of the British officers; nor does the author undertake to criticise his action. He was some miles from Rodney at the time. "The separated French ship in the N.W., having got the breeze at the same time as our van division, boldly stood for and endeavored to weather the British advanced ships; that being the only way to regain her own fleet, then to windward. To such a length did she carry her audacity that she compelled the Alfred, the headmost ship of Sir Samuel Hood's division, to bear up in order to allow her to pass. Every eye was fixed upon the bold Frenchman, excepting those who were anxiously looking out on the commander-in-chief to make the signal to engage, but who, most likely from not supposing it could be an enemy, did not throw out the ardently looked-for signal, and therefore not a gun was fired. This is mentioned to show the state of discipline on board the ships composing Sir Samuel Hood's division, and that he, though second in command, would not fire a single shot until directed to do so by his commander-in-chief. 'It is more than probable that Sir S. Hood's reason for having waited for the signal to engage from his commander-in-chief, ere he would fire, arose from the supposition that had he been the occasion of prematurely bringing on an action under the above circumstances, he would have been responsible for the results.'" (White's Naval Researches, p. 97.)
[127] The following incident, which took place during Rodney's pursuit of De Grasse in April 1782, illustrates how far subordination can go. Hood was one of the best British officers, and the author doesn't aim to criticize his actions. He was several miles away from Rodney at that time. "The separated French ship to the northwest, having caught the wind at the same moment as our van division, boldly headed toward and tried to outmaneuver the British advanced ships, as that was the only way to rejoin her own fleet, which was upwind. She was so audacious that she forced the Alfred, the leading ship of Sir Samuel Hood's division, to change course to let her pass. Every eye was on the daring Frenchman, except for those who were anxiously waiting for the commander-in-chief to signal to engage, but likely because they didn't think it could be an enemy, they didn’t give the eagerly awaited signal, and therefore no shots were fired. This is mentioned to highlight the discipline on board the ships of Sir Samuel Hood's division, and that he, although second in command, wouldn’t fire a single shot until directed to do so by his commander-in-chief. 'It is very likely that Sir S. Hood's reason for waiting for the signal to engage from his commander-in-chief before firing was because he believed that if he caused an action to happen prematurely under those circumstances, he would be held responsible for the consequences.'" (White's Naval Researches, p. 97.)
Hood may have been influenced by Rodney's bearing toward inferiors whose initiative displeased him. The relations of the two seem to have been strained.
Hood might have been influenced by Rodney's attitude toward those he considered beneath him whose efforts annoyed him. The relationship between the two appears to have been tense.
CHAPTER X.ToC
Maritime War in North America and West Indies, 1778-1781.—Its Influence upon the course of the American Revolution.—Fleet Actions off Grenada, Dominica, and Chesapeake Bay.
Maritime War in North America and the West Indies, 1778-1781.—Its Impact on the American Revolution.—Naval Battles off Grenada, Dominica, and Chesapeake Bay.
On the 15th of April, 1778, Admiral Comte d'Estaing sailed from Toulon for the American continent, having under his command twelve ships-of-the-line and five frigates. With him went as a passenger a minister accredited to Congress, who was instructed to decline all requests for subsidies, and to avoid explicit engagements relative to the conquest of Canada and other British possessions. "The Cabinet of Versailles," says a French historian, "was not sorry for the United States to have near them a cause of anxiety, which would make them feel the value of the French alliance."[129] While acknowledging the generous sympathy of many Frenchmen for their struggle, Americans need not blind themselves to the self-interestedness of the French government. Neither should they find fault; for its duty was to consider French interests first.
On April 15, 1778, Admiral Comte d'Estaing set sail from Toulon for the American continent, commanding twelve ships-of-the-line and five frigates. He was accompanied by a minister accredited to Congress, who was instructed to refuse all requests for financial aid and to sidestep any commitments related to the conquest of Canada and other British territories. "The Cabinet of Versailles," notes a French historian, "was not unhappy for the United States to have a concern nearby, which would help them appreciate the value of the French alliance."[129] While recognizing the generous support from many French people for their struggle, Americans shouldn't ignore the self-interest of the French government. They also shouldn't criticize; after all, its priority was to look after French interests first.
D'Estaing's progress was very slow. It is said that he wasted much time in drills, and even uselessly. However that may be, he did not reach his destination, the Capes of the Delaware, until the 8th of July,—making a passage of twelve weeks, four of which were spent in reaching the Atlantic. The English government had news of his intended sailing; and in fact, as soon as they recalled their ambassador at Paris, orders were sent to America to evacuate Philadelphia, and concentrate upon New York. Fortunately for [360]them, Lord Howe's movements were marked by a vigor and system other than D'Estaing's. First assembling his fleet and transports in Delaware Bay, and then hastening the embarkation of stores and supplies, he left Philadelphia as soon as the army had marched from there for New York. Ten days were taken up in reaching the mouth of the bay;[130] but he sailed from it the 28th of June, ten days before D'Estaing arrived, though more than ten weeks after he had sailed. Once outside, a favoring wind took the whole fleet to Sandy Hook in two days. War is unforgiving; the prey that D'Estaing had missed by delays foiled him in his attempts upon both New York and Rhode Island.
D'Estaing's progress was very slow. It's said that he wasted a lot of time on drills, even pointless ones. Regardless, he didn't reach his destination, the Capes of Delaware, until July 8th—a twelve-week journey, with four of those weeks spent just getting to the Atlantic. The English government knew about his planned departure; in fact, as soon as they recalled their ambassador in Paris, they ordered evacuation of Philadelphia and a focus on New York. Luckily for [360]them, Lord Howe's actions were much more efficient and organized than D'Estaing's. He first gathered his fleet and transports in Delaware Bay, quickly moving to load stores and supplies, and left Philadelphia right after the army marched out toward New York. It took him ten days to reach the mouth of the bay; [130] but he set sail on June 28th, ten days before D'Estaing arrived, even though it was more than ten weeks after he departed. Once out at sea, a favorable wind carried the entire fleet to Sandy Hook in just two days. War doesn’t forgive; the opportunities D'Estaing missed due to his delays undermined his efforts in both New York and Rhode Island.
The day after Howe's arrival at Sandy Hook the English army reached the heights of Navesink, after an harassing march through New Jersey, with Washington's troops hanging upon its rear. By the active co-operation of the navy it was carried up to New York by the 5th of July; and Howe then went back to bar the entrance to the port against the French fleet. As no battle followed, the details of his arrangements will not be given; but a very full and interesting account by an officer of the fleet can be found in Ekins's "Naval Battles." Attention, however, may well be called to the combination of energy, thought, skill, and determination shown by the admiral. The problem before him was to defend a practicable pass with six sixty-four-gun ships and three of fifty, against eight of seventy-four guns or over, three sixty-fours, and one fifty,—it may be said against nearly double his own force.
The day after Howe arrived at Sandy Hook, the English army reached the heights of Navesink, following a tough march through New Jersey, with Washington's troops trailing behind. With the navy's active support, they were moved up to New York by July 5th; then Howe returned to block the port's entrance against the French fleet. Since no battle occurred, the details of his plans won't be discussed; however, a very detailed and interesting account by a fleet officer can be found in Ekins's "Naval Battles." It's worth noting the combination of energy, thought, skill, and determination displayed by the admiral. His challenge was to defend a viable passage with six 64-gun ships and three 50-gun ships, against eight ships with 74 guns or more, three 64s, and one 50—almost double his own force.
D'Estaing anchored outside, south of the Hook, on the 11th of July, and there remained until the 22d, engaged in sounding the bar, and with every apparent determination to enter. On the 22d a high northeast wind, coinciding with a spring tide, raised the water on the bar to thirty feet. The French fleet got under way, and worked up to windward to a point fair for crossing the bar. Then D'Estaing's heart failed him [361]under the discouragement of the pilots; he gave up the attack and stood away to the southward.
D'Estaing anchored just outside, south of the Hook, on July 11 and stayed there until the 22nd, working on sounding the bar and seeming determined to enter. On the 22nd, a strong northeast wind combined with a spring tide raised the water over the bar to thirty feet. The French fleet got underway and sailed upwind to a point where they could cross the bar. However, D'Estaing lost his nerve [361] due to the pilots' discouragement; he abandoned the attempt and headed south.
Naval officers cannot but sympathize with the hesitation of a seaman to disregard the advice of pilots, especially on a coast foreign to him; but such sympathy should not close their eyes to the highest type of character. Let any one compare the action of D'Estaing at New York with that of Nelson at Copenhagen and the Nile, or that of Farragut at Mobile and Port Hudson, and the inferiority of the Frenchman as a military leader, guided only by military considerations, is painfully apparent. New York was the very centre of the British power; its fall could not but have shortened the war. In fairness to D'Estaing, however, it must be remembered that other than military considerations had to weigh with him. The French admiral doubtless had instructions similar to those of the French minister, and he probably reasoned that France had nothing to gain by the fall of New York, which might have led to peace between America and England, and left the latter free to turn all her power against his own country. Less than that would have been enough to decide his wavering mind as to risking his fleet over the bar.
Naval officers can’t help but understand a sailor’s hesitation to ignore the advice of pilots, especially in unfamiliar waters. However, that understanding shouldn’t blind them to the highest standards of leadership. If you compare D'Estaing's actions in New York with Nelson's at Copenhagen and the Nile, or Farragut's at Mobile and Port Hudson, the Frenchman’s shortcomings as a military leader, focused only on military factors, become painfully clear. New York was the heart of British power; its capture would’ve likely shortened the war. To be fair to D'Estaing, though, he had to consider more than just military factors. The French admiral probably had instructions akin to those from the French minister, and he likely thought that France wouldn’t benefit from New York falling, as it could have led to peace between America and England, allowing Britain to direct all its power against France. Even that reasoning would have been enough to influence his uncertainty about risking his fleet across the bar.
Howe was more fortunate than D'Estaing, in having no divided purposes. Having escaped from Philadelphia and saved New York by his diligence, he had in store the further honor of saving Rhode Island by the like rapid movements. Scattered ships-of-war from a fleet despatched from England now began to arrive. On the 28th of July Howe was informed that the French fleet, which had disappeared to the southward, had been seen heading for Rhode Island. In four days his fleet was ready for sea, but owing to contrary winds did not reach Point Judith till the 9th of August. There he anchored, and learned that D'Estaing had run the batteries the day before and anchored between Gould and Canonicut Islands;[131] [362]the Seakonnet and Western passages had also been occupied by French ships, and the fleet was prepared to sustain the American army in an attack upon the British works.
Howe was luckier than D'Estaing because he didn't have conflicting goals. After escaping from Philadelphia and saving New York through his efforts, he now had the additional honor of saving Rhode Island with similar swift actions. Scattered warships from a fleet sent from England began to arrive. On July 28, Howe learned that the French fleet, which had previously gone south, was spotted heading towards Rhode Island. In four days, his fleet was ready to set sail, but due to unfavorable winds, it didn't reach Point Judith until August 9. There, he anchored and found out that D'Estaing had managed to run past the batteries the day before and had anchored between Gould and Canonicut Islands; [131] [362] the Seakonnet and Western passages were also occupied by French ships, and the fleet was prepared to support the American army in an attack on the British positions.
The arrival of Howe, although his reinforcements did not raise the English fleet to over two thirds the strength of the French, upset D'Estaing's plans. With the prevailing summer southwest breezes blowing straight into the bay, he was exposed to any attempts his adversary might make. That same night the wind shifted unexpectedly to the northward, and D'Estaing at once got under way and stood out to sea. Howe, though surprised by this unlooked-for act,—for he had not felt himself strong enough to attack,—also made sail to keep the weather-gage. The next twenty-four hours passed in manœuvring for the advantage; but on the night of the 11th of August a violent gale of wind dispersed the fleets. Great injury was done to the vessels of both, and among others the French flag-ship "Languedoc," of ninety guns, lost all her masts and her rudder. Immediately after the gale two different English fifty-gun ships, in fighting order, fell in, the one with the "Languedoc," the other with the "Tonnant," of eighty guns, having only one mast standing. Under such conditions both English ships attacked; but night coming on, they ceased action, intending to begin again in the morning. When morning came, other French ships also came, and the opportunity was lost. It is suggestive to note that one of the captains was Hotham, who as admiral of the Mediterranean fleet, seventeen years later, so annoyed Nelson by his cool satisfaction in having taken only two ships: "We must be contented; we have done very well." This was the immediate occasion of Nelson's characteristic saying, "Had we taken ten sail, and allowed the eleventh to escape, being able to get at her, I could never have called it well done."
The arrival of Howe, even though his reinforcements didn't boost the English fleet to more than two-thirds the strength of the French, disrupted D'Estaing's plans. With the summer's southwest winds blowing straight into the bay, he was vulnerable to any moves his opponent might make. That same night, the wind unexpectedly shifted to the north, and D'Estaing quickly set sail and headed out to sea. Although Howe was surprised by this unanticipated action—since he didn’t feel strong enough to launch an attack—he also set sail to maintain the weather advantage. The next twenty-four hours were spent maneuvering for position, but on the night of August 11, a violent gale scattered the fleets. Both suffered significant damage, with the French flagship "Languedoc," armed with ninety guns, losing all its masts and its rudder. Immediately after the storm, two different English ships of fifty guns, ready for battle, encountered the "Languedoc" and the "Tonnant," which had eighty guns and only one mast remaining. In this situation, both English ships attacked, but as night fell, they ceased fire with plans to resume in the morning. When morning came, more French ships arrived, and the opportunity was lost. It's worth noting that one of the captains was Hotham, who, seventeen years later as admiral of the Mediterranean fleet, frustrated Nelson by expressing satisfaction for having captured just two ships: "We must be contented; we have done very well." This directly prompted Nelson's famous remark, "Had we taken ten sail, and allowed the eleventh to escape, being able to get at her, I could never have called it well done."
[363]The English fell back on New York. The French rallied again off the entrance of Narragansett Bay; but D'Estaing decided that he could not remain on account of the damage to the squadron, and accordingly sailed for Boston on the 21st of August. Rhode Island was thus left to the English, who retained it for a year longer, evacuating then for strategic reasons. Howe on his part diligently repaired his ships, and sailed again for Rhode Island when he heard of the French being there; but meeting on the way a vessel with word of their going to Boston, he followed them to that harbor, in which they were too strongly placed to be attacked. Taking into consideration his enforced return to New York, the necessary repairs, and the fact that he was only four days behind the French at Boston, it may be believed that Howe showed to the end the activity which characterized the beginning of his operations.
[363]The English retreated to New York. The French regrouped near the entrance of Narragansett Bay, but D'Estaing decided he couldn’t stay due to damage to his squadron, so he sailed to Boston on August 21. Rhode Island was left to the English, who held it for another year before evacuating for strategic reasons. Howe, for his part, worked hard to repair his ships and set sail for Rhode Island again when he learned the French were there; however, on his way, he met a ship with news that the French were heading to Boston, so he followed them to that harbor, where they were too well-established to be attacked. Considering his forced return to New York, the needed repairs, and the fact that he was only four days behind the French in Boston, it can be said that Howe maintained the same level of activity until the end of his operations as he did at the start.
Scarcely a shot had been exchanged between the two fleets, yet the weaker had thoroughly outgeneralled the stronger. With the exception of the manœuvres for the weather-gage after D'Estaing left Newport, which have not been preserved, and of Howe's dispositions to receive the expected attack in New York Bay, the lessons are not tactical, but strategic, and of present application. Chief among them undoubtedly stands the value of celerity and watchfulness, combined with knowledge of one's profession. Howe learned of his danger by advices from home three weeks after D'Estaing sailed from Toulon. He had to gather in his cruisers from the Chesapeake and outside, get his ships-of-the-line from New York and Rhode Island, embark the supplies of an army of ten thousand men, move down the Delaware,—which unavoidably took ten days,—and round to New York again. D'Estaing was ten days behind him at the Delaware, twelve days at Sandy Hook, and only one day ahead of him in entering Newport, outside which harbor he had lain ten days before sailing in. An English narrator in the fleet, speaking of the untiring labor between June 30, when the English army reached Navesink, and the arrival of the French fleet on the [364]11th of July, says: "Lord Howe attended in person as usual, and by his presence animated the zeal and quickened the industry of officers and men." In this quality he was a marked contrast to his amiable but indolent brother, General Howe.
Scarcely a shot had been fired between the two fleets, yet the weaker one had completely outsmarted the stronger. Except for the maneuvers to gain the weather advantage after D'Estaing left Newport, which have not been documented, and Howe's preparations to face the expected attack in New York Bay, the lessons learned are not tactical but strategic and relevant today. Chief among them is definitely the importance of speed and vigilance, combined with expertise in one's field. Howe found out about his danger through communications from home three weeks after D'Estaing sailed from Toulon. He had to gather his cruisers from the Chesapeake and beyond, bring his ships of the line from New York and Rhode Island, load supplies for an army of ten thousand men, and make his way down the Delaware, which inevitably took ten days, before heading back to New York. D'Estaing was ten days behind him at the Delaware, twelve days at Sandy Hook, and only one day ahead upon entering Newport, where he had been anchored for ten days before setting sail. An English narrator in the fleet, referring to the tireless efforts between June 30, when the English army reached Navesink, and the arrival of the French fleet on the [364]11th of July, notes: "Lord Howe attended in person as usual, and by his presence inspired the enthusiasm and increased the efficiency of the officers and men." In this regard, he was a stark contrast to his friendly but lazy brother, General Howe.
The same industry and watchfulness marked his remaining operations. As soon as the French ships hauled off to the southward, lookout vessels followed them, and preparations continued (notably of fireships) for pursuit. The last ship that joined from England crossed the bar at New York on the 30th of July. On the 1st of August the fleet was ready for sea, with four fire-ships. The accident of the wind delayed his next movements; but, as has been seen, he came up only one day after the entrance of the enemy into Newport, which his inferior force could not have prevented. But the object of the enemy, which he could not oppose, was frustrated by his presence. D'Estaing was no sooner in Newport than he wished himself out. Howe's position was strategically excellent. With his weatherly position in reference to the prevailing winds, the difficulty of beating a fleet out through the narrow entrance to the harbor would expose the French ships trying it to be attacked in detail; while if the wind unluckily came fair, the admiral relied upon his own skill to save his squadron.
The same diligence and attention marked his remaining actions. As soon as the French ships moved south, lookout vessels followed them, and preparations continued (especially for fire ships) to pursue. The last ship from England arrived in New York on July 30th. By August 1st, the fleet was ready to set sail, equipped with four fire ships. A shift in the wind delayed his next moves; however, as noted, he arrived just a day after the enemy entered Newport, which his smaller force couldn’t have stopped. Nevertheless, the enemy's goal, which he couldn’t counter, was thwarted by his presence. D'Estaing wanted out of Newport as soon as he arrived. Howe's position was strategically great. With his advantageous location concerning the prevailing winds, trying to get a fleet out through the narrow harbor entrance would leave the French ships open to being attacked individually; meanwhile, if the wind happened to turn favorable, the admiral counted on his own skill to protect his squadron.
Cooper, in one of his novels, "The Two Admirals," makes his hero say to a cavilling friend that if he had not been in the way of good luck, he could not have profited by it. The sortie of the French, the subsequent gale, and the resulting damage were all what is commonly called luck; but if it had not been for Howe's presence off Point Judith threatening them, they would have ridden out the gale at their anchors inside. Howe's energy and his confidence in himself as a seaman had put him in the way of good luck, and it is not fair to deny his active share in bringing it about. But for him the gale would not have saved the British force in Newport.[132]
Cooper, in one of his novels, "The Two Admirals," has his hero tell a complaining friend that if he hadn't been in the path of good luck, he wouldn't have been able to take advantage of it. The French's attack, the storm that followed, and the damage that resulted were all what people usually call luck; but if Howe hadn't been off Point Judith threatening them, they would have weathered the storm at anchor. Howe's drive and his self-confidence as a sailor had positioned him for good luck, and it's unfair to overlook his active role in making it happen. Without him, the storm wouldn't have saved the British forces in Newport.[132]
[365]D'Estaing, having repaired his ships, sailed with his whole force for Martinique on the 4th of November; on the same day Commodore Hotham left New York for Barbadoes, with five sixty-four and fifty-gun ships and a convoy of five thousand troops, destined for the conquest of Sta. Lucia Island. On the way a heavy gale of wind injured the French fleet more than the English, the French flag-ship losing her main and mizzen topmasts. The loss of these spars, and the fact that twelve unencumbered ships-of-war reached Martinique only one day before the convoy of fifty-nine English transports reached Barbadoes, a hundred miles farther on, tells badly for the professional skill which then and now is a determining feature in naval war.
[365]D'Estaing, after fixing his ships, set sail with his entire fleet for Martinique on November 4th. On the same day, Commodore Hotham departed from New York to Barbados with five 64-gun and 50-gun ships, along with a convoy of five thousand troops, aimed at capturing St. Lucia Island. Along the way, a severe gale damaged the French fleet more than the British, with the French flagship losing its main and mizzen topmasts. The loss of these masts, along with the fact that twelve unencumbered warships arrived in Martinique just one day before the convoy of fifty-nine English transport ships reached Barbados, a hundred miles farther away, reflects poorly on the professional skills that have always been critical in naval warfare.
Admiral Barrington, commanding at Barbadoes, showed the same energy as Howe. The transports arrived on the 10th; the troops were kept on board; sailed on the morning of the 12th for Sta. Lucia, and anchored there at three P.M. the 13th. The same afternoon half the troops were landed, and the rest the next morning. They seized at once a better port, to which the admiral was about to move the transports when the appearance of D'Estaing prevented him. All that night [366]the transports were being warped inside the ships-of-war, and the latter anchored across the entrance to the bay, especial care being taken to strengthen the two extremities of the line, and to prevent the enemy from passing inside the weather end, as the English ships in after years did at the battle of the Nile. The French was much more than double the English fleet; and if the latter were destroyed, the transports and troops would be trapped.
Admiral Barrington, in charge at Barbados, showed the same determination as Howe. The transports arrived on the 10th; the troops stayed on board and set sail on the morning of the 12th for St. Lucia, anchoring there at 3 PM on the 13th. That same afternoon, half the troops were disembarked, and the rest were landed the next morning. They quickly took control of a better port, and the admiral was about to move the transports there when D'Estaing's appearance stopped him. All that night, the transports were maneuvered alongside the warships, which anchored across the entrance to the bay, with special attention given to fortifying the two ends of the line to prevent the enemy from slipping past the weather end, similar to what the English ships accomplished later at the battle of the Nile. The French fleet was more than twice the size of the English fleet, and if the latter were destroyed, the transports and troops would be trapped.
D'Estaing stood down along the English order twice from north to south, cannonading at long range, but did not anchor. Abandoning then his intentions against the fleet, he moved to another bay, landed some French soldiers, and assaulted the position of the English troops. Failing here also, he retired to Martinique; and the French garrison, which had been driven into the interior of the island, surrendered.
D'Estaing moved along the English line twice from north to south, firing at long range, but he didn't anchor. After giving up on his plans against the fleet, he went to another bay, disembarked some French soldiers, and attacked the English troops' position. Failing there as well, he returned to Martinique, where the French garrison, pushed into the island's interior, surrendered.
It seems scarcely necessary to point out the admirable diligence of Admiral Barrington, to which and to the skill of his dispositions he owed this valuable strategic success; for such it was. Sta. Lucia was the island next south of Martinique, and the harbor of Gros Ilot at its northern end was especially adapted to the work of watching the French depot at Fort Royal, their principal station in the West Indies. Thence Rodney pursued them before his great action in 1782.
It hardly seems necessary to highlight the impressive dedication of Admiral Barrington, which, along with his strategic skills, led to this significant success. Sta. Lucia is the island directly south of Martinique, and the harbor at Gros Ilot on its northern end was particularly suitable for monitoring the French supply base at Fort Royal, their main station in the West Indies. From there, Rodney chased them before his major engagement in 1782.
The absence of precise information causes hesitation in condemning D'Estaing for this mortifying failure. His responsibility depends upon the wind, which may have been light under the land, and upon his power to anchor. The fact, however, remains that he passed twice along the enemy's line within cannon-shot, yet did not force a decisive action. His course was unfavorably criticised by the great Suffren, then one of his captains.[133]
The lack of clear information makes it hard to blame D'Estaing for this embarrassing failure. His responsibility relies on the wind, which might have been weak near the land, and on his ability to anchor. However, the fact remains that he went past the enemy's line twice within cannon range but didn't push for a decisive action. His choices were harshly criticized by the esteemed Suffren, who was one of his captains at the time.[133]
The English had thus retrieved the capture of Dominica, which had been taken on the 8th of September by the French governor of the West India Islands. There being no English squadron there, no difficulty had been met. The value of Dominica to the French has been pointed out; and it is [367]necessary here to use the example of both Dominica and Sta. Lucia to enforce what has before been said, that the possession of these smaller islands depended solely upon the naval preponderance. Upon the grasp of this principle held by any one will depend his criticism upon the next action of D'Estaing, to be immediately related.
The English managed to reclaim Dominica, which had been taken on September 8th by the French governor of the West India Islands. Since there was no English squadron in the area, there were no issues faced. The importance of Dominica to the French has been emphasized, and it is [367] necessary to use the examples of both Dominica and St. Lucia to reinforce what has previously been mentioned: the control of these smaller islands relied entirely on naval superiority. Understanding this principle will affect how one views D'Estaing's next actions, which will be discussed shortly.
Six months of almost entire quiet followed the affair of Sta. Lucia. The English were reinforced by the fleet of Byron, who took chief command; but the French, being joined by ten more ships-of-the-line, remained superior in numbers. About the middle of June, Byron sailed with his fleet to protect a large convoy of merchant-ships, bound for England, till they were clear of the islands. D'Estaing then sent a very small expedition which seized St. Vincent, June 16, 1779, without difficulty; and on the 30th of June he sailed with his whole fleet to attack Grenada. Anchoring off Georgetown on the 2d of July, he landed his soldiers, and on the 4th the garrison of seven hundred men surrendered the island. Meanwhile Byron, hearing of the loss of St. Vincent and probable attack on Grenada, sailed with a large convoy of vessels carrying troops, and with twenty-one ships-of-the-line, to regain the one and relieve the other. Receiving on the way definite information that the French were before Grenada, he kept on for it, rounding the northwest point of the island at daybreak of July 6. His approach had been reported the day before to D'Estaing, who remained at anchor,[134] fearing lest with the currents and light winds he might drop too far to leeward if he let go the bottom. When the English came in sight, the French got under way; but the confused massing of their ships prevented Byron from recognizing at once the disparity of numbers, they having twenty-five ships-of-the-line. He made signal for a general chase, and as the disorder of the French fleet forced it to form on the leewardmost ships, the English easily retained the advantage of the wind with which they approached. As the action began, therefore, the French were to the westward with a partly formed line, on the starboard tack, heading north, the rear in [368]disorder, and to windward of the van and centre (Plate X., A.). The English stood down with a fair wind, steering south by west on the port tack (A), between the island and the enemy, their leading ships approaching at a slight angle, but heading more directly for his yet unformed rear; while the English convoy was between its own fleet and the island, under special charge of three ships (A, a), which were now called in. As the signal so far commanded a general chase, the three fastest of the English, among which was the flag of the second in command, Admiral Barrington, came under fire of the French centre and rear, apparently unsupported (b), and suffered much from the consequent concentration of fire upon them. When they reached the sternmost ships they wore upon the same tack with them and stood north, after and to windward of them; and at about the same time Byron, who had not before known of the surrender, saw the French flag flying over the forts. Signals followed to wear in succession, and for the advanced ships to form line for mutual support, ceasing the general chase under which the engagement had hitherto been fought. While the main body was still standing south on the port tack, three ships,—"Cornwall," "Grafton," and "Lion" (c),—obeying literally the signal for close action, had passed much to leeward of the others, drawing upon themselves most of the fire of the enemy's line. They thus suffered very severely in men and spars; and though finally relieved by the advanced ships, as these approached from the southward on the opposite tack, they were unable, after wearing (B, c’, c’’), to keep up with the fleet, and so dropped astern and toward the French. The bulk of the injury sustained by the English fell upon these three, upon the three advanced ships under Barrington, and upon two others in the rear (A, a), which, seeing the van so heavily engaged, did not follow the successive movement, but bore down straight out of the order, and took their places at the head of the column (B, a, a’),—an act strongly resembling that which won Nelson such high renown at Cape St. Vincent, but involving less responsibility.[135]
Six months of almost complete quiet followed the battle of Sta. Lucia. The English were bolstered by Byron's fleet, which he commanded; however, the French, reinforced by ten additional ships, remained superior in numbers. Around mid-June, Byron set sail with his fleet to protect a large convoy of merchant ships heading to England until they cleared the islands. D'Estaing then dispatched a small expedition that captured St. Vincent on June 16, 1779, without trouble. On June 30, he sailed with his entire fleet to attack Grenada. Anchoring off Georgetown on July 2, he landed his troops, and on July 4, the garrison of seven hundred men surrendered the island. Meanwhile, Byron, upon learning of the loss of St. Vincent and the likely attack on Grenada, sailed with a large convoy of troop-carrying vessels and twenty-one ships of the line to reclaim St. Vincent and relieve Grenada. When he received confirmation that the French were in front of Grenada, he continued toward it, rounding the northwest point of the island at daybreak on July 6. His approach had been reported to D'Estaing the day before, who remained anchored, fearing that the currents and light winds might push him too far leeward if he let go the anchor. As the English appeared, the French set sail; however, the chaotic positioning of their ships made it difficult for Byron to immediately recognize their numerical advantage, with twenty-five ships in total. He signaled for a general chase, and as the disordered French fleet adjusted, the English maintained the advantage of the wind. As the battle commenced, the French were westward with a partially formed line, on a starboard tack heading north, while their rear was disorganized and high of wind relative to the van and center. The English sailed downwind, steering south by west on a port tack between the island and the enemy, their leading ships angled slightly but heading more directly for the disorganized rear of the French. The English convoy was situated between their fleet and the island, under the specific protection of three ships, which were called back in. Since the signal indicated a general chase, the three fastest English ships, including the flag of the second in command, Admiral Barrington, came under fire from the French center and rear, seemingly unsupported, and suffered hugely from the concentrated fire directed at them. Upon reaching the last French ships, they changed tack to the same course and sailed north, trailing and windward of them. At about the same time, Byron, who had not previously learned of the surrender, noticed the French flag flying over the forts. Subsequent signals ordered the ships to wear in succession and for the leading ships to form a line for mutual support, ceasing the general chase under which the engagement had been conducted. While the main body was still heading south on the port tack, three ships—"Cornwall," "Grafton," and "Lion"—adhering closely to the signal for close action, had moved significantly leeward from the others, drawing most of the fire from the enemy's line. They suffered heavily in terms of men and spars; although they were eventually relieved by the advancing ships, as these approached from the south on the opposite tack, they could not keep up with the fleet after changing course and fell behind, drifting toward the French. The majority of the damage inflicted upon the English fell on these three ships, the three advanced ships under Barrington, and two others in the back, which, seeing the van heavily engaged, did not follow the later movements, but moved straight out of formation, taking their position at the head of the column—a move reminiscent of Nelson's celebrated action at Cape St. Vincent, but with less responsibility.
[369]So far Byron had conducted his attack, using the initiative permitted him by the advantage of the wind and the disorder of the French rear. It will be observed that, though it was desirable to lose no time in assailing the latter while in confusion, it is questionable whether Barrington's three ships should have been allowed to separate as far as they seem to have done from the rest of the fleet. A general chase is permissible and proper when, from superiority of numbers, original or acquired, or from the general situation, the ships first in action will not be greatly outnumbered, or subjected to overpowering concentration before support comes up, or when there is probability that the enemy may escape unless promptly struck. This was not so here. Nor should the "Cornwall," "Grafton," and "Lion" have been permitted to take a course which allowed, almost compelled, the enemy to concentrate rather than diffuse his fire. The details of the affair are not precise enough to warrant more comment than naming these mistakes, without necessarily attributing them to fault on the part of the admiral.
[369]So far, Byron had led his attack, taking advantage of the wind and the disarray of the French rear. It should be noted that while it was important to act quickly against the enemy while they were confused, it is questionable whether Barrington's three ships should have been allowed to separate as much as they did from the rest of the fleet. A general chase is acceptable when, due to superior numbers, either originally or gained, or because of the overall situation, the ships first engaged are not greatly outnumbered or at risk of overwhelming concentration before help arrives, or when there’s a chance that the enemy might escape if not attacked immediately. This was not the case here. The "Cornwall," "Grafton," and "Lion" shouldn’t have been allowed to take a route that almost forced the enemy to concentrate their fire instead of spreading it out. The details of the incident aren't clear enough to provide more commentary than just pointing out these mistakes, without necessarily holding the admiral responsible.
The French had up to this time remained strictly on the defensive, in accordance with their usual policy. There was now offered an opportunity for offensive action which tested D'Estaing's professional qualities, and to appreciate which the situation at the moment must be understood. Both fleets were by this on the starboard tack, heading north (B, B, B), the French to leeward. The latter had received little injury in their motive power, though their line was not in perfect order; but the English, owing to the faulty attack, had seven ships seriously crippled, four of which—the "Monmouth" (a’), "Grafton," "Cornwall" (c’), and "Lion" (c’’)—were disabled. The last three, by three P.M., were a league astern and [370]much to leeward of their line, being in fact nearer the French than the English; while the speed of the English fleet was necessarily reduced to that of the crippled ships remaining in line. These conditions bring out strongly the embarrassments of a fleet whose injuries are concentrated upon a few ships, instead of being distributed among all; the ten or twelve which were practically untouched had to conform to the capabilities of the others. D'Estaing, with twenty-five ships, now had Byron to windward of him with seventeen or eighteen capable of holding together, but slower and less handy than their enemies, and saw him tactically embarrassed by the care of a convoy to windward and three disabled ships to leeward. Under these circumstances three courses were open to the French admiral: (1) He might stretch ahead, and, tacking in succession, place himself between Byron and the convoy, throwing his frigates among the latter; (2) He might tack his fleet together and stand up to the English line to bring on a general action; or (3) he could, after going about, cut off the three disabled ships, which might bring on a general action with less exposure.
The French had until now stayed strictly on the defensive, following their usual strategy. An opportunity for offensive action had now arisen that tested D'Estaing's professional skills, and understanding the current situation is key. Both fleets were on the starboard tack, heading north (B, B, B), with the French downwind. The French fleet had suffered little damage to their power, although their formation wasn't perfect; meanwhile, due to a poor attack, the English had seven ships badly damaged, four of which—the "Monmouth" (a’), "Grafton," "Cornwall" (c’), and "Lion" (c’’)—were incapacitated. By three P.M., the last three ships were a league behind and much to the leeward of their line, actually closer to the French than the English; the speed of the English fleet had to match that of the damaged ships still in formation. These conditions highlighted the difficulties of a fleet with damage concentrated on a few ships rather than spread out among all; the ten or twelve ships that were mostly untouched had to operate within the capabilities of the others. D'Estaing, with twenty-five ships, now had Byron to windward with seventeen or eighteen ships that could still work together, but they were slower and less maneuverable than the French. D’Estaing saw that Byron was tactically hindered by the responsibility of a convoy to windward and three disabled ships to leeward. Under these circumstances, the French admiral had three options: (1) He could push ahead, tacking in succession to position himself between Byron and the convoy, sending his frigates to join the convoy; (2) He could regroup his fleet and confront the English line to initiate a general engagement; or (3) He could, after changing direction, cut off the three disabled ships, which might lead to a general action with less risk.
None of these did he do. As regards the first, he, knowing the criticisms of the fleet, wrote home that his line was too much disordered to allow it. Whatever the technical irregularity, it is difficult to believe that, with the relative power of motion in the two fleets, the attempt was hopeless. The third alternative probably presented the greatest advantage, for it insured the separation between the enemy's main body and the crippled ships, and might very probably exasperate the British admiral into an attack under most hazardous conditions. It is stated by English authorities that Byron said he would have borne down again, had any attack been made on them. At three P.M. D'Estaing tacked all together, forming line on the lee ship,[136] and stood to the southward again. [371]The English imitated this movement, except the van ship "Monmouth" (a’), which being too badly hurt to manœuvre kept on to the northward, and the three separated ships. Two of these (c’) kept on north and passed once more under the French broadsides; but the "Lion" (c’’), unable to keep to the wind, kept broad off before it across the bows of the enemy, for Jamaica, a thousand miles away. She was not pursued; a single transport was the sole maritime trophy of the French. "Had the admiral's seamanship equalled his courage," wrote the celebrated Suffren, who commanded the French van ship, "we would not have suffered four dismasted vessels to escape." "D'Estaing, at the age of thirty, had been transferred from the army to the navy with the premature rank of rear-admiral. The navy did not credit him with nautical ability when the war broke out, and it is safe to say that its opinion was justified by his conduct during it."[137] "Brave as his sword, D'Estaing was always the idol of the soldier, the idol of the seaman; but moral authority over his officers failed him on several occasions, notwithstanding the marked protection extended to him by the king."[138]
None of these actions did he take. Regarding the first, he, aware of the fleet's criticisms, wrote home that his line was too disorganized to allow for it. Whatever the technical irregularity, it's hard to believe that, considering the relative power of motion in both fleets, the attempt was impossible. The third option likely offered the most benefit, as it ensured separation between the enemy's main body and the damaged ships and might have provoked the British admiral into an attack under very risky conditions. English sources say that Byron claimed he would have advanced again if any attack had been made against them. At three PM D'Estaing turned all together, forming a line on the lee ship,[136] and headed south again. [371] The English copied this movement, except for the lead ship "Monmouth" (a’), which was too badly damaged to maneuver and continued north, as did the three separated ships. Two of these (c’) continued north and once again passed under the French broadsides; however, the "Lion" (c''), unable to keep its course, drifted away before the enemy, heading towards Jamaica, a thousand miles away. She wasn’t pursued; a single transport was the only naval trophy the French captured. "If the admiral's seamanship had matched his bravery," wrote the renowned Suffren, who commanded the French lead ship, "we would not have allowed four dismasted vessels to escape." "D'Estaing, at the age of thirty, had been moved from the army to the navy with the premature rank of rear-admiral. The navy did not regard him as skilled in navigation when the war began, and it’s fair to say that this assessment was proved correct by his actions throughout it."[137] "As brave as his sword, D'Estaing was always adored by the soldiers and sailors alike; but he often lost moral authority over his officers, despite the significant support he received from the king."[138]
Another cause than incapacity as a seaman has usually been assigned by French historians for the impotent action of D'Estaing on this occasion. He looked upon Grenada, they say, as the real objective of his efforts, and considered the English fleet a very secondary concern. Ramatuelle, a naval tactician who served actively in this war and wrote under the Empire, cites this case, which he couples with that of Yorktown and others, as exemplifying the true policy of naval war. His words, which probably reflect the current opinion of his service in that day, as they certainly do the policy of French governments, call for more than passing mention, as they involve principles worthy of most serious discussion:—
Another reason, besides incompetence as a sailor, has often been put forward by French historians to explain D'Estaing's ineffective actions during this event. They argue that he viewed Grenada as the main goal of his efforts, considering the English fleet to be a much lesser priority. Ramatuelle, a naval strategist who actively participated in this war and wrote during the Empire, references this situation, along with Yorktown and others, to highlight the true strategy of naval warfare. His comments likely reflect the prevailing views of his service at that time, as well as the policies of French governments, and deserve more than just a brief mention, as they raise important principles that warrant serious discussion:—
"The French navy has always preferred the glory of assuring or preserving a conquest to that, more brilliant perhaps, but actually [372]less real, of taking a few ships; and in that it has approached more nearly the true end to be proposed in war. What in fact would the loss of a few ships matter to the English? The essential point is to attack them in their possessions, the immediate source of their commercial wealth and of their maritime power. The war of 1778 furnishes examples which prove the devotion of the French admirals to the true interests of the country. The preservation of the island of Grenada, the reduction of Yorktown where the English army surrendered, the conquest of the island of St. Christopher, were the result of great battles in which the enemy was allowed to retreat undisturbed, rather than risk giving him a chance to succor the points attacked."
"The French navy has always valued the glory of securing or maintaining a conquest over the possibly more glamorous, but less significant, act of capturing a few ships; in this way, it has gotten closer to the true purpose of war. In reality, losing a few ships wouldn’t matter much to the English. The critical thing is to strike at their territories, which are the main sources of their commercial wealth and naval power. The war of 1778 provides examples that demonstrate the dedication of the French admirals to the true interests of the country. The defense of Grenada, the capture of Yorktown where the English army surrendered, and the conquest of St. Christopher island resulted from significant battles where the enemy was allowed to retreat without interference, rather than risking a chance to aid the points under attack."
The issue could not be more squarely raised than in the case of Grenada. No one will deny that there are moments when a probable military success is to be foregone, or postponed, in favor of one greater or more decisive. The position of De Grasse at the Chesapeake, in 1781, with the fate of Yorktown hanging in the balance, is in point; and it is here coupled with that of D'Estaing at Grenada, as though both stood on the same grounds. Both are justified alike; not on their respective merits as fitting the particular cases, but upon a general principle. Is that principle sound? The bias of the writer quoted betrays itself unconsciously, in saying "a few ships." A whole navy is not usually to be crushed at a blow; a few ships mean an ordinary naval victory. In Rodney's famous battle only five ships were taken, though Jamaica was saved thereby.
The issue couldn’t be more clearly illustrated than in the case of Grenada. No one can deny that there are times when a likely military success may need to be sacrificed or delayed for something greater or more decisive. The situation of De Grasse at Chesapeake in 1781, with the fate of Yorktown on the line, is relevant here; and it is included alongside D'Estaing at Grenada, as if both were in the same boat. Both are justified in their actions; not based on their individual merits for their specific situations, but on a broader principle. Is that principle valid? The bias of the writer referenced slips through unconsciously when they mention "a few ships." Usually, a whole navy can’t be taken out in one strike; a few ships indicate a typical naval victory. In Rodney's famous battle, only five ships were captured, but that was enough to save Jamaica.
In order to determine the soundness of the principle, which is claimed as being illustrated by these two cases (St. Christopher will be discussed later on), it is necessary to examine what was the advantage sought, and what the determining factor of success in either case. At Yorktown the advantage sought was the capture of Cornwallis's army; the objective was the destruction of the enemy's organized military force on shore. At Grenada the chosen objective was the possession of a piece of territory of no great military value; for it must be remarked that all these smaller Antilles, if held in [373]force at all, multiplied large detachments, whose mutual support depended wholly upon the navy. These large detachments were liable to be crushed separately, if not supported by the navy; and if naval superiority is to be maintained, the enemy's navy must be crushed. Grenada, near and to leeward of Barbadoes and Sta. Lucia, both held strongly by the English, was peculiarly weak to the French; but sound military policy for all these islands demanded one or two strongly fortified and garrisoned naval bases, and dependence for the rest upon the fleet. Beyond this, security against attacks by single cruisers and privateers alone was needed.
To assess the validity of the principle illustrated by these two cases (St. Christopher will be addressed later), it’s important to look at what was the goal and what determined success in each instance. At Yorktown, the goal was to capture Cornwallis's army; the aim was to dismantle the enemy's organized military force on land. In contrast, at Grenada, the goal was to take control of a territory that held little military significance; it should be noted that all these smaller Antilles, if held in [373]force at all, relied on large detachments, whose mutual support depended entirely on the navy. These large detachments could easily be defeated individually if not backed by the navy; and to maintain naval superiority, the enemy's navy had to be defeated. Grenada, situated near and downwind of Barbados and St. Lucia, both strongly held by the British, was particularly vulnerable to the French; however, sound military strategy for all these islands required one or two well-fortified and garrisoned naval bases, with reliance on the fleet for the rest. Additionally, protection against attacks from individual cruisers and privateers was essential.
Such were the objectives in dispute. What was the determining factor in this strife? Surely the navy, the organized military force afloat. Cornwallis's fate depended absolutely upon the sea. It is useless to speculate upon the result, had the odds on the 5th of September, 1781, in favor of De Grasse, been reversed; if the French, instead of five ships more, had had five ships less than the English. As it was, De Grasse, when that fight began, had a superiority over the English equal to the result of a hard-won fight. The question then was, should he risk the almost certain decisive victory over the organized enemy's force ashore, for the sake of a much more doubtful advantage over the organized force afloat? This was not a question of Yorktown, but of Cornwallis and his army; there is a great deal in the way things are put.
These were the objectives at stake. What was the key factor in this conflict? Clearly, it was the navy, the organized military force at sea. Cornwallis's fate completely depended on the ocean. It's pointless to imagine what would have happened if, on September 5, 1781, the odds had been in favor of De Grasse instead; if the French had had five ships less than the English, rather than five more. As it stood, De Grasse had an advantage over the English that was equivalent to the outcome of a hard-fought battle when the fight began. The real question was, should he risk what was almost certain to be a decisive victory over the enemy's organized force on land for the chance at a much more uncertain edge over the organized force at sea? This wasn’t just about Yorktown; it was about Cornwallis and his army, and how things are framed makes a huge difference.
So stated,—and the statement needs no modifications,—there can be but one answer. Let it be remarked clearly, however, that both De Grasse's alternatives brought before him the organized forces as the objective.
So stated—and that statement needs no changes—there can only be one answer. However, it's important to note clearly that both of De Grasse's options presented to him considered the organized forces as the objective.
Not so with D'Estaing at Grenada. His superiority in numbers over the English was nearly as great as that of De Grasse; his alternative objectives were the organized force afloat and a small island, fertile, but militarily unimportant. Grenada is said to have been a strong position for defence; but intrinsic strength does not give importance, if the position has not strategic value. To save the island, he refused to use an enormous advantage fortune had given him over the [374]fleet. Yet upon the strife between the two navies depended the tenure of the islands. Seriously to hold the West India Islands required, first, a powerful seaport, which the French had; second, the control of the sea. For the latter it was necessary, not to multiply detachments in the islands, but to destroy the enemy's navy, which may be accurately called the army in the field. The islands were but rich towns; and not more than one or two fortified towns, or posts, were needed.
Not the case with D'Estaing at Grenada. His numerical advantage over the English was nearly as significant as De Grasse's; his alternative goals were the naval force at sea and a small, fertile island that was militarily unimportant. Grenada was said to be a strong defensive position, but inherent strength doesn't make a position important if it lacks strategic value. To protect the island, he chose not to take advantage of the significant edge fortune had given him over the [374] fleet. However, the outcome of the conflict between the two navies determined the control of the islands. To seriously maintain power in the West Indies, you needed, first, a strong seaport, which the French had; second, control of the sea. For that, it was essential not to increase detachments on the islands but to eliminate the enemy's navy, which could accurately be described as the army in the field. The islands were essentially wealthy towns; only one or two fortified towns or posts were necessary.
It may safely be said that the principle which led to D'Estaing's action was not, to say the least, unqualifiedly correct; for it led him wrong. In the case of Yorktown, the principle as stated by Ramatuelle is not the justifying reason of De Grasse's conduct, though it likely enough was the real reason. What justified De Grasse was that, the event depending upon the unshaken control of the sea, for a short time only, he already had it by his greater numbers. Had the numbers been equal, loyalty to the military duty of the hour must have forced him to fight, to stop the attempt which the English admiral would certainly have made. The destruction of a few ships, as Ramatuelle slightingly puts it, gives just that superiority to which the happy result at Yorktown was due. As a general principle, this is undoubtedly a better objective than that pursued by the French. Of course, exceptions will be found; but those exceptions will probably be where, as at Yorktown, the military force is struck at directly elsewhere, or, as at Port Mahon, a desirable and powerful base of that force is at stake; though even at Mahon it is doubtful whether the prudence was not misplaced. Had Hawke or Boscawen met with Byng's disaster, they would not have gone to Gibraltar to repair it, unless the French admiral had followed up his first blow with others, increasing their disability.
It's safe to say that the principle guiding D'Estaing's decision wasn't exactly correct, as it ultimately led him astray. In the case of Yorktown, the principle outlined by Ramatuelle doesn't really justify De Grasse's actions, though it was likely the actual reason behind them. What justified De Grasse was that, since the outcome depended on maintaining control of the sea for a short time, he already held that control with his larger numbers. If the numbers had been equal, he would have been forced by his military duty to fight and prevent the English admiral from making his move. The destruction of a few ships, as Ramatuelle dismissively mentions, provided the advantage that contributed to the successful outcome at Yorktown. Generally, this is certainly a better goal than what the French pursued. Of course, there will be exceptions, but those exceptions will probably occur when, as at Yorktown, the military force is directly threatened elsewhere, or, as at Port Mahon, when a valuable and strong base of that force is at risk; though even at Mahon, it's questionable whether that caution was misplaced. If Hawke or Boscawen had faced Byng's disaster, they wouldn't have gone to Gibraltar to recover unless the French admiral had followed up his initial attack with more efforts to increase their vulnerability.
Grenada was no doubt very dear in the eyes of D'Estaing, because it was his only success. After making the failures at the Delaware, at New York, and at Rhode Island, with the mortifying affair at Sta. Lucia, it is difficult to understand [375]the confidence in him expressed by some French writers. Gifted with a brilliant and contagious personal daring, he distinguished himself most highly, when an admiral, by leading in person assaults upon intrenchments at Sta. Lucia and Grenada, and a few months later in the unsuccessful attack upon Savannah.
Grenada was undoubtedly very precious to D'Estaing since it was his only victory. After experiencing setbacks at Delaware, New York, and Rhode Island, along with the embarrassing situation at St. Lucia, it's hard to grasp the confidence some French writers had in him. He was known for his impressive and inspiring bravery, especially when, as an admiral, he personally led assaults on fortifications at St. Lucia and Grenada, and just a few months later, he was involved in the unsuccessful assault on Savannah.
During the absence of the French navy in the winter of 1778-79, the English, controlling now the sea with a few of their ships that had not gone to the West Indies, determined to shift the scene of the continental war to the Southern States, where there was believed to be a large number of loyalists. The expedition was directed upon Georgia, and was so far successful that Savannah fell into their hands in the last days of 1778. The whole State speedily submitted. Operations were thence extended into South Carolina, but failed to bring about the capture of Charleston.
During the winter of 1778-79, while the French navy was absent, the English, with a few of their ships still in the area instead of the West Indies, decided to move the continental war to the Southern States, where they thought there were many loyalists. They focused their efforts on Georgia, and by the end of 1778, they successfully captured Savannah. The entire state quickly surrendered. They then tried to extend their operations into South Carolina, but they were unable to capture Charleston.
Word of these events was sent to D'Estaing in the West Indies, accompanied by urgent representations of the danger to the Carolinas, and the murmurings of the people against the French, who were accused of forsaking their allies, having rendered them no service, but on the contrary having profited by the cordial help of the Bostonians to refit their crippled fleet. There was a sting of truth in the alleged failure to help, which impelled D'Estaing to disregard the orders actually in his hands to return at once to Europe with certain ships. Instead of obeying them he sailed for the American coast with twenty-two ships-of-the-line, having in view two objects,—the relief of the Southern States and an attack upon New York in conjunction with Washington's army.
Word of these events reached D'Estaing in the West Indies, along with urgent warnings about the threat to the Carolinas and the growing discontent among the people towards the French, who were blamed for abandoning their allies. They hadn’t provided any support and had instead benefited from the generous assistance of the Bostonians to repair their damaged fleet. There was a painful truth in the accusation of not helping, which pushed D'Estaing to ignore the orders he had to return to Europe immediately with certain ships. Instead of following those orders, he set sail for the American coast with twenty-two ships of the line, aiming for two goals: to assist the Southern States and to launch an attack on New York in coordination with Washington's army.
Arriving off the coast of Georgia on the 1st of September, D'Estaing took the English wholly at unawares; but the fatal lack of promptness, which had previously marked the command of this very daring man, again betrayed his good fortune. Dallying at first before Savannah, the fleeting of precious days again brought on a change of conditions, and the approach of the bad-weather season impelled him, too [376]slow at first, into a premature assault. In it he displayed his accustomed gallantry, fighting at the head of his column, as did the American general; but the result was a bloody repulse. The siege was raised, and D'Estaing sailed at once for France, not only giving up his project upon New York, but abandoning the Southern States to the enemy. The value of this help from the great sea power of France, thus cruelly dangled before the eyes of the Americans only to be withdrawn, was shown by the action of the English, who abandoned Newport in the utmost haste when they learned the presence of the French fleet. Withdrawal had been before decided upon, but D'Estaing's coming converted it into flight.
Arriving off the coast of Georgia on September 1st, D'Estaing caught the English completely off guard; however, his ongoing tendency to hesitate, which had previously characterized the leadership of this bold man, once again undermined his fortunate situation. Initially lingering outside Savannah, the loss of precious time changed the circumstances, and the impending bad weather forced him, albeit slowly at first, into a hasty attack. In this assault, he displayed his typical bravery, leading his troops just like the American general did, but the outcome was a bloody setback. The siege was lifted, and D'Estaing immediately sailed back to France, not only abandoning his plans for New York but also leaving the Southern States vulnerable to the enemy. The significance of the assistance from France, a major sea power, cruelly dangled in front of the Americans only to be retracted, was highlighted by the English, who quickly abandoned Newport upon learning of the French fleet's presence. Though they had already decided to withdraw, D'Estaing's arrival turned it into a panic-filled retreat.
After the departure of D'Estaing, which involved that of the whole French fleet,—for the ships which did not go back to France returned to the West Indies,—the English resumed the attack upon the Southern States, which had for a moment been suspended. The fleet and army left New York for Georgia in the last weeks of 1779, and after assembling at Tybee, moved upon Charleston by way of Edisto. The powerlessness of the Americans upon the sea left this movement unembarrassed save by single cruisers, which picked up some stragglers,—affording another lesson of the petty results of a merely cruising warfare. The siege of Charleston began at the end of March,—the English ships soon after passing the bar and Fort Moultrie without serious damage, and anchoring within gunshot of the place. Fort Moultrie was soon and easily reduced by land approaches, and the city itself was surrendered on the 12th of May, after a siege of forty days. The whole State was then quickly overrun and brought into military subjection.
After D'Estaing and the entire French fleet left—since the ships that didn't return to France went back to the West Indies—the English resumed their attack on the Southern States, which had been briefly paused. In the last weeks of 1779, the fleet and army departed from New York for Georgia. After gathering at Tybee, they moved toward Charleston via Edisto. The Americans were powerless at sea, which allowed this movement to proceed with little disruption, except for a few small cruisers that managed to capture some stragglers—showing once again how little impact a purely cruising warfare had. The siege of Charleston began at the end of March, with English ships soon passing through the bar and Fort Moultrie without facing serious damage, then anchoring within range of the city. Fort Moultrie was quickly and easily taken from land, and the city itself surrendered on May 12, after a forty-day siege. The entire state was then swiftly overrun and placed under military control.
The fragments of D'Estaing's late fleet were joined by a reinforcement from France under the Comte de Guichen, who assumed chief command in the West Indian seas March 22, 1780. The next day he sailed for Sta. Lucia, which he hoped to find unprepared; but a crusty, hard-fighting old [377]admiral of the traditional English type, Sir Hyde Parker, had so settled himself at the anchorage, with sixteen ships, that Guichen with his twenty-two would not attack. The opportunity, if it were one, did not recur. De Guichen, returning to Martinique, anchored there on the 27th; and the same day Parker at Sta. Lucia was joined by the new English commander-in-chief, Rodney.
The remnants of D'Estaing's late fleet were reinforced by a contingent from France led by Comte de Guichen, who took command in the West Indian seas on March 22, 1780. The following day, he set sail for St. Lucia, hoping to catch it off guard; however, a grumpy, tough old admiral of the classic English type, Sir Hyde Parker, had firmly established himself at the anchorage with sixteen ships, making Guichen hesitate to engage with his twenty-two. The chance, if it existed, did not present itself again. De Guichen returned to Martinique and anchored there on the 27th; on the same day, Parker at St. Lucia was joined by the new English commander-in-chief, Rodney.
This since celebrated, but then only distinguished, admiral was sixty-two years old at the time of assuming a command where he was to win an undying fame. Of distinguished courage and professional skill, but with extravagant if not irregular habits, money embarrassments had detained him in exile in France at the time the war began. A boast of his ability to deal with the French fleet, if circumstances enabled him to go back to England, led a French nobleman who heard it to assume his debts, moved by feelings in which chivalry and national pique probably bore equal shares. Upon his return he was given a command, and sailed, in January, 1780, with a fleet of twenty ships-of-the-line, to relieve Gibraltar, then closely invested. Off Cadiz, with a good luck for which he was proverbial, he fell in with a Spanish fleet of eleven ships-of-the-line, which awkwardly held their ground until too late to fly.[139] Throwing out the signal for a general chase, and cutting in to leeward of the enemy, between them and their port, Rodney, despite a dark and stormy night, succeeded in blowing up one ship and taking six. Hastening on, he relieved Gibraltar, placing it out of all danger from want; and then, leaving the prizes and the bulk of his fleet, sailed with the rest for his station.
This once-celebrated, but then only notable, admiral was sixty-two years old when he took command and earned lasting fame. He was known for his remarkable courage and professional skill, but he also had extravagant if not irregular habits. Financial troubles had kept him in exile in France when the war started. A claim about his ability to confront the French fleet, if given the chance to return to England, prompted a French nobleman who heard it to take on his debts, motivated by a mix of chivalry and national pride. Upon his return, he received a command and set sail in January 1780 with a fleet of twenty battleships to relieve Gibraltar, which was then under siege. Off Cadiz, known for his good luck, he encountered a Spanish fleet of eleven battleships that awkwardly held their position until it was too late to escape. Throwing up the signal for a general chase and cutting in to windward of the enemy, between them and their port, Rodney, despite a dark and stormy night, managed to blow up one ship and capture six. He quickly moved on, relieved Gibraltar, ensuring it wouldn’t face any danger from supply shortages; then, leaving the captured ships and most of his fleet behind, he sailed with the rest to his station.
Despite his brilliant personal courage and professional skill, which in the matter of tactics was far in advance of his contemporaries in England, Rodney, as a commander-in-chief, belongs rather to the wary, cautious school of the French tacticians than to the impetuous, unbounded [378]eagerness of Nelson. As in Tourville we have seen the desperate fighting of the seventeenth century, unwilling to leave its enemy, merging into the formal, artificial—we may almost say trifling—parade tactics of the eighteenth, so in Rodney we shall see the transition from those ceremonious duels to an action which, while skilful in conception, aimed at serious results. For it would be unjust to Rodney to press the comparison to the French admirals of his day. With a skill that De Guichen recognized as soon as they crossed swords, Rodney meant mischief, not idle flourishes. Whatever incidental favors fortune might bestow by the way, the objective from which his eye never wandered was the French fleet,—the organized military force of the enemy on the sea. And on the day when Fortune forsook the opponent who had neglected her offers, when the conqueror of Cornwallis failed to strike while he had Rodney at a disadvantage, the latter won a victory which redeemed England from the depths of anxiety, and restored to her by one blow all those islands which the cautious tactics of the allies had for a moment gained, save only Tobago.
Despite his outstanding personal bravery and professional expertise, which was far ahead of his peers in England when it came to tactics, Rodney, as a commander-in-chief, is more aligned with the careful, cautious style of the French strategists than with the bold, unrestrained eagerness of Nelson. Just as Tourville exemplified the fierce battles of the seventeenth century, reluctant to abandon his enemy, blending into the formal, almost trivial parade tactics of the eighteenth century, Rodney represents the shift from those ceremonious engagements to actions that, while skilled in planning, focused on achieving real results. It would be unfair to compare Rodney directly to the French admirals of his time. With a cunning that De Guichen realized as soon as they began their confrontation, Rodney aimed to cause real damage, not engage in mere showmanship. Regardless of any incidental advantages luck might grant him, his unwavering focus was on the French fleet—the enemy's organized military power at sea. And on the day when Fortune turned her back on the opponent who failed to recognize her gifts, when the victor over Cornwallis missed the opportunity to strike when Rodney was at a disadvantage, the latter secured a victory that pulled England from the depths of worry and reclaimed, in one fell swoop, all those islands that the cautious strategies of the allies had briefly captured, with the exception of Tobago.
De Guichen and Rodney met for the first time on the 17th of April, 1780, three weeks after the arrival of the latter. The French fleet was beating to windward in the Channel between Martinique and Dominica, when the enemy was made in the southeast. A day was spent in manœuvring for the weather-gage, which Rodney got. The two fleets being now well to leeward of the islands[140] (Plate XI.), both on the starboard tack heading to the northward and the French on the lee bow of the English, Rodney, who was carrying a press of sail, signalled to his fleet that he meant to attack the enemy's rear and centre with his whole force; and when he had reached the position he thought suitable, ordered them to keep away eight points (90°) together (A, A, A). De Guichen, seeing the danger of the rear, wore his fleet all together and stood down to succor it. Rodney, finding himself foiled, hauled up again on the same tack as the enemy, [379]both fleets now heading to the southward and eastward.[141] Later, he again made signal for battle, followed an hour after, just at noon, by the order (quoting his own despatch), "for every ship to bear down and steer for her opposite in the enemy's line." This, which sounds like the old story of ship to ship, Rodney explains to have meant her opposite at the moment, not her opposite in numerical order. His own words are: "In a slanting position, that my leading ships might attack the van ships of the enemy's centre division, and the whole British fleet be opposed to only two thirds of the enemy" (B, B). The difficulty and misunderstanding which followed seem to have sprung mainly from the defective character of the signal book. Instead of doing as the admiral wished, the leading ships (a) carried sail so as to reach their supposed station abreast their numerical opposite in the order. Rodney stated afterward that when he bore down the second time, the French fleet was in a very extended line of battle; and that, had his orders been obeyed, the centre and rear must have been disabled before the van could have joined.
De Guichen and Rodney met for the first time on April 17, 1780, three weeks after Rodney’s arrival. The French fleet was sailing against the wind in the Channel between Martinique and Dominica when they spotted the enemy to the southeast. They spent a day maneuvering to gain the weather advantage, which Rodney achieved. Both fleets were now positioned well to leeward of the islands (Plate XI.), sailing on the starboard tack towards the north, with the French on the lee side of the English fleet. Rodney, who had his sails fully deployed, signaled his fleet that he planned to attack the enemy's rear and center with his entire force. Once he reached what he considered an appropriate position, he ordered them to steer away eight points (90°) together (A, A, A). De Guichen, recognizing the threat to the rear, turned his fleet around and headed to assist. Rodney, realizing his plan had been thwarted, adjusted his course to match that of the enemy, with both fleets now sailing south and east. Later, he signaled for battle again, which was followed an hour later, right at noon, by the order (quoting his own dispatch) for every ship to head towards its opposite in the enemy's line. This, which sounds like the old tale of ship to ship, Rodney explained meant the opposite at that moment, not in numerical order. He stated: "In a slanting position, so that my leading ships could attack the front ships of the enemy's center division, and the whole British fleet would engage only two-thirds of the enemy" (B, B). The confusion and issues that followed seem to have mainly arisen from the poor design of the signal book. Instead of following the admiral's intent, the leading ships (a) adjusted their sails to reach what they thought was their designated position opposite their numerical placement. Rodney later noted that when he charged in for the second time, the French fleet was arranged in a very extended battle line; and that had his orders been followed, the center and rear would have been neutralized before the front could have engaged.
There seems every reason to believe that Rodney's intentions throughout were to double on the French, as asserted. The failure sprang from the signal-book and tactical inefficiency of the fleet; for which he, having lately joined, was not answerable. But the ugliness of his fence was so apparent to De Guichen, that he exclaimed, when the English fleet kept away the first time, that six or seven of his ships were gone; and sent word to Rodney that if his signals had been obeyed he would have had him for his prisoner.[142] A more [380]convincing proof that he recognized the dangerousness of his enemy is to be found in the fact that he took care not to have the lee-gage in their subsequent encounters. Rodney's careful plans being upset, he showed that with them he carried all the stubborn courage of the most downright fighter; taking his own ship close to the enemy and ceasing only when the latter hauled off, her foremast and mainyard gone, and her hull so damaged that she could hardly be kept afloat.
It’s clear that Rodney's main goal the whole time was to outmaneuver the French, as claimed. The failure resulted from the signal book and poor tactics of the fleet, which he wasn’t responsible for since he had just joined. However, De Guichen could see how poorly things were going, and upon noticing the English fleet retreat for the first time, he exclaimed that six or seven of his ships were lost. He even told Rodney that if his signals had been followed, he would have taken him prisoner.[142] A more [380]convincing indication of how dangerous he thought his enemy was can be seen in the fact that he made sure not to give them the advantage in their later battles. When Rodney's plans fell apart, he still showed immense bravery, taking his ship right up to the enemy and only stopping when they pulled back, with his foremast and mainyard gone and his hull so damaged that it was barely staying afloat.
An incident of this battle mentioned by French writers and by Botta,[143] who probably drew upon French authorities, but not found in the English accounts, shows the critical nature of the attack in the apprehension of the French. According to them, Rodney, marking a gap in their order due to a ship in rear of the French admiral being out of station, tried to break through (b); but the captain of the "Destin," seventy-four, pressed up under more sail and threw himself across the path of the English ninety-gun ship.
An incident from this battle noted by French writers and by Botta,[143] who likely relied on French sources, but not mentioned in the English accounts, highlights how serious the attack was in the minds of the French. They claim that Rodney, seeing a gap in their formation caused by a ship trailing behind the French admiral, attempted to break through (b); however, the captain of the "Destin," a seventy-four-gun ship, moved up with more sails and positioned himself in the way of the English ninety-gun ship.
"The action of the 'Destin' was justly praised," says Lapeyrouse-Bonfils. "The fleet ran the danger of almost certain defeat, but for the bravery of M. de Goimpy. Such, after the affair, was the opinion of the whole French squadron. Yet, admitting that our line was broken, what disasters then would necessarily threaten the fleet? Would it not always have been easy for our rear to remedy the accident by promptly standing on to fill the place of the vessels cut off? That movement would necessarily have brought about a mêlée, which would have turned to the advantage of the fleet having the bravest and most devoted captains. But then, as under the empire, it was an acknowledged principle that ships cut off were ships taken, and the belief wrought its own fulfilment."
"The actions of the 'Destin' were rightly praised," says Lapeyrouse-Bonfils. "The fleet was at serious risk of defeat, but thanks to the courage of M. de Goimpy, we avoided disaster. This was the unanimous opinion of the entire French squadron after the event. However, even if our line was broken, what disasters could have awaited the fleet? Wouldn't it always have been possible for our rear to fix the issue by quickly moving in to take the place of the ships that were separated? That maneuver would have inevitably led to a clash, which would have favored the fleet with the bravest and most dedicated captains. But then, just like during the empire, it was widely accepted that ships that were cut off were effectively lost, and that belief became a self-fulfilling prophecy."
The effect of breaking an enemy's line, or order-of-battle, depends upon several conditions. The essential idea is to [381]divide the opposing force by penetrating through an interval found, or made, in it, and then to concentrate upon that one of the fractions which can be least easily helped by the other. In a column of ships this will usually be the rear. The compactness of the order attacked, the number of the ships cut off, the length of time during which they can be isolated and outnumbered, will all affect the results. A very great factor in the issue will be the moral effect, the confusion introduced into a line thus broken. Ships coming up toward the break are stopped, the rear doubles up, while the ships ahead continue their course. Such a moment is critical, and calls for instant action; but the men are rare who in an unforeseen emergency can see, and at once take the right course, especially if, being subordinates, they incur responsibility. In such a scene of confusion the English, without presumption, hoped to profit by their better seamanship; for it is not only "courage and devotion," but skill, which then tells. All these effects of "breaking the line" received illustration in Rodney's great battle in 1782.
The impact of breaking an enemy's formation relies on several factors. The main idea is to [381]split the opposing force by moving through a gap found or created in it, and then focus on the part of the force that can be supported the least by the others. In a fleet of ships, this is usually the rear. The density of the attacked formation, the number of ships cut off, and how long they can remain isolated and outnumbered will all influence the outcome. A significant factor in the result will be the psychological impact, the confusion created by a broken line. Ships moving towards the breach are halted, the rear tightens up, while the ships in front keep going. This moment is crucial and requires immediate action; however, it’s rare for individuals in unexpected situations to recognize and quickly act on the right course, especially if they are subordinates and have to bear responsibility. In such chaotic moments, the English, without arrogance, hoped to leverage their superior seamanship; it’s not just about “courage and dedication,” but also the skill that matters. All these effects of "breaking the line" were exemplified in Rodney's famous battle in 1782.
De Guichen and Rodney met twice again in the following month, but on neither occasion did the French admiral take the favorite lee-gage of his nation. Meanwhile a Spanish fleet of twelve ships-of-the-line was on its way to join the French. Rodney cruised to windward of Martinique to intercept them; but the Spanish admiral kept a northerly course, sighted Guadeloupe, and thence sent a despatch to De Guichen, who joined his allies and escorted them into port. The great preponderance of the coalition, in numbers, raised the fears of the English islands; but lack of harmony led to delays and hesitations, a terrible epidemic raged in the Spanish squadron, and the intended operations came to nothing. In August De Guichen sailed for France with fifteen ships. Rodney, ignorant of his destination, and anxious about both North America and Jamaica, divided his fleet, leaving one half in the islands, and with the remainder sailing for New York, where he arrived on the 12th of September. The risk thus [382]run was very great, and scarcely justifiable; but no ill effect followed the dispersal of forces.[144] Had De Guichen intended to turn upon Jamaica, or, as was expected by Washington, upon New York, neither part of Rodney's fleet could well have withstood him. Two chances of disaster, instead of one, were run, by being in small force on two fields instead of in full force on one.
De Guichen and Rodney met twice again in the following month, but on neither occasion did the French admiral take the advantageous position of his nation. Meanwhile, a Spanish fleet of twelve ships-of-the-line was on its way to join the French. Rodney cruised upwind of Martinique to intercept them; however, the Spanish admiral took a northerly route, spotted Guadeloupe, and then sent a message to De Guichen, who joined his allies and escorted them into port. The sheer number of the coalition raised concerns in the English islands; but internal disagreements led to delays and hesitations, a terrible epidemic spread through the Spanish squadron, and the planned operations fell apart. In August, De Guichen sailed for France with fifteen ships. Rodney, unaware of his destination and worried about both North America and Jamaica, divided his fleet, leaving one half in the islands, while the other half sailed for New York, where he arrived on September 12. The risk he took was significant and hardly justifiable, but there were no negative consequences from the division of forces. Had De Guichen planned to attack Jamaica, or as Washington expected, New York, neither part of Rodney's fleet would have been able to withstand him. Two potential disasters were faced instead of one, by being in a smaller force across two areas rather than in full force in one.
Rodney's anxiety about North America was well grounded. On the 12th of July of this year the long expected French succor arrived,—five thousand French troops under Rochambeau and seven ships-of-the-line under De Ternay. Hence the English, though still superior at sea, felt forced to concentrate at New York, and were unable to strengthen their operations in Carolina. The difficulty and distance of movements by land gave such an advantage to sea power that Lafayette urged the French government further to increase the fleet; but it was still naturally and properly attentive to its own immediate interests in the Antilles. It was not yet time to deliver America.
Rodney's worries about North America were well-founded. On July 12th of this year, the long-awaited French assistance arrived—five thousand French troops led by Rochambeau and seven warships under De Ternay. As a result, the British, while still dominant at sea, had to focus their efforts in New York and couldn't reinforce their operations in Carolina. The challenges and distances of land movements gave a significant advantage to naval power, prompting Lafayette to encourage the French government to further strengthen the fleet; however, it was still understandably focused on its immediate interests in the Caribbean. It wasn't yet the right moment to secure America's freedom.
Rodney, having escaped the great hurricane of October, 1780, by his absence, returned to the West Indies later in the year, and soon after heard of the war between England and Holland; which, proceeding from causes which will be mentioned later, was declared December 20, 1780. The admiral at once seized the Dutch islands of St. Eustatius and St. Martin, besides numerous merchant-ships, with property amounting in all to fifteen million dollars. These islands, while still neutral, had played a rôle similar to that of Nassau during the American Civil War, and had become a great depot of contraband goods, immense quantities of which now fell into the English hands.
Rodney, having avoided the massive hurricane of October 1780 by being away, returned to the West Indies later that year and soon learned about the war between England and Holland, which was declared on December 20, 1780, due to reasons that will be explained later. The admiral quickly took control of the Dutch islands of St. Eustatius and St. Martin, along with numerous merchant ships, with property totaling fifteen million dollars. These islands, although still neutral, had played a similar role to Nassau during the American Civil War and had become a major hub for smuggled goods, a huge amount of which now fell into English hands.
The year 1780 had been gloomy for the cause of the United States. The battle of Camden had seemed to settle the English yoke on South Carolina, and the enemy formed high hopes of controlling both North Carolina and Virginia. The treason of Arnold following had increased the depression, which was [383]but partially relieved by the victory at King's Mountain. The substantial aid of French troops was the most cheerful spot in the situation. Yet even that had a checkered light, the second division of the intended help being blocked in Brest by the English fleet; while the final failure of De Guichen to appear, and Rodney coming in his stead, made the hopes of the campaign fruitless.
The year 1780 had been tough for the cause of the United States. The battle of Camden seemed to secure British control over South Carolina, and the enemy had high hopes of taking North Carolina and Virginia as well. Arnold’s betrayal only deepened the despair, which was [383]only partially lifted by the victory at King's Mountain. The significant support from French troops was the one bright spot in the situation. However, that too was complicated, as the second group of much-needed assistance was stuck in Brest due to the British fleet; meanwhile, De Guichen’s absence and Rodney's arrival made the campaign seem pointless.
A period of vehement and decisive action was, however, at hand. At the end of March, 1781, the Comte de Grasse sailed from Brest with twenty-six ships-of-the-line and a large convoy. When off the Azores, five ships parted company for the East Indies, under Suffren, of whom more will be heard later on. De Grasse came in sight of Martinique on the 28th of April. Admiral Hood (Rodney having remained behind at St. Eustatius) was blockading before Fort Royal, the French port and arsenal on the lee side of the island, in which were four ships-of-the-line, when his lookouts reported the enemy's fleet. Hood had two objects before him,—one to prevent the junction of the four blockaded ships with the approaching fleet, the other to keep the latter from getting between him and Gros Ilot Bay in Sta. Lucia. Instead of effecting this in the next twenty-four hours, by beating to windward of the Diamond Rock, his fleet got so far to leeward that De Grasse, passing through the channel on the 29th, headed up for Fort Royal, keeping his convoy between the fleet and the island. For this false position Hood was severely blamed by Rodney, but it may have been due to light winds and the lee current. However that be, the four ships in Fort Royal got under way and joined the main body. The English had now only eighteen ships to the French twenty-four, and the latter were to windward; but though thus in the proportion of four to three, and having the power to attack, De Grasse would not do it. The fear of exposing his convoy prevented him from running the chance of a serious engagement. Great must have been his distrust of his forces, one would say. When is a navy to fight, if this was not a time? He carried on a distant cannonade, with results so far against the English [384]as to make his backwardness yet more extraordinary. Can a policy or a tradition which justifies such a line of conduct be good?
A time of intense and decisive action was approaching. At the end of March 1781, the Comte de Grasse set sail from Brest with twenty-six ships of the line and a large convoy. When passing the Azores, five ships split off for the East Indies under Suffren, who will be mentioned later. De Grasse sighted Martinique on April 28. Admiral Hood (since Rodney stayed behind at St. Eustatius) was blockading Fort Royal, the French port and arsenal on the leeward side of the island, which had four ships of the line. His lookouts, however, reported the enemy's fleet. Hood had two main goals: one was to prevent the four blockaded ships from joining the approaching fleet, and the other was to stop that fleet from getting between him and Gros Ilot Bay in St. Lucia. Instead of achieving this within the next twenty-four hours by sailing upwind of Diamond Rock, his fleet drifted too far downwind, allowing De Grasse to pass through the channel on the 29th and head toward Fort Royal, keeping his convoy between the fleet and the island. Hood faced severe criticism from Rodney for this positioning, though it might have been due to light winds and the current. Regardless, the four ships at Fort Royal got underway and joined the main fleet. The British now had only eighteen ships compared to the French's twenty-four, and the French were upwind; however, despite having a four-to-three advantage and the ability to attack, De Grasse chose not to engage. His fear of risking his convoy prevented him from seizing the opportunity for a major battle. One might think he had significant doubts about his forces. When is a navy meant to fight if not at this moment? He conducted distant cannonades, which were largely ineffective against the British, making his hesitation even more remarkable. Can a strategy or tradition that supports such behavior really be justified?
The following day, April 30, De Grasse, having thrown away his chance, attempted to follow Hood; but the latter had no longer any reason for fighting, and his original inferiority was increased by the severe injuries of some ships on the 29th. De Grasse could not overtake him, owing to the inferior speed of his fleet, many of the ships not being coppered,—a fact worthy of note, as French vessels by model and size were generally faster than English; but this superiority was sacrificed through the delay of the government in adopting the new improvement.
The next day, April 30, De Grasse, having missed his opportunity, tried to pursue Hood; however, Hood had no reason to fight anymore, and his earlier disadvantage was worsened by the severe damage to some of his ships on the 29th. De Grasse couldn’t catch up to him because his fleet was slower, with many ships not being coppered—a significant detail since French vessels, by design and size, were typically faster than English ones; but this advantage was lost due to the government’s delay in implementing the new improvement.
Hood rejoined Rodney at Antigua; and De Grasse, after remaining a short time at Fort Royal, made an attempt upon Gros Ilot Bay, the possession of which by the English kept all the movements of his fleet under surveillance. Foiled here, he moved against Tobago, which surrendered June 2, 1781. Sailing thence, after some minor operations, he anchored on the 26th of July at Cap Français (now Cape Haytien), in the island of Hayti. Here he found awaiting him a French frigate from the United States, bearing despatches from Washington and Rochambeau, upon which he was to take the most momentous action that fell to any French admiral during the war.
Hood rejoined Rodney at Antigua, and De Grasse, after spending a short time at Fort Royal, tried to take Gros Ilot Bay, which the English held to keep an eye on all his fleet's movements. After failing there, he turned his attention to Tobago, which surrendered on June 2, 1781. After some smaller operations, he anchored on July 26 at Cap Français (now Cape Haytien) in the island of Hayti. There, he found a French frigate from the United States waiting for him, carrying messages from Washington and Rochambeau, which he was to act on—one of the most significant decisions any French admiral would make during the war.
The invasion of the Southern States by the English, beginning in Georgia and followed by the taking of Charleston and the military control of the two extreme States, had been pressed on to the northward by way of Camden into North Carolina. On the 16th of August, 1780, General Gates was totally defeated at Camden; and during the following nine months the English under Cornwallis persisted in their attempts to overrun North Carolina. These operations, the narration of which is foreign to our immediate subject, had ended by forcing Cornwallis, despite many successes in actual encounter, to fall back exhausted toward the seaboard, and finally upon Wilmington, in which place depots for such a [385]contingency had been established. His opponent, General Greene, then turned the American troops toward South Carolina. Cornwallis, too weak to dream of controlling, or even penetrating, into the interior of an unfriendly country, had now to choose between returning to Charleston, to assure there and in South Carolina the shaken British power, and moving northward again into Virginia, there to join hands with a small expeditionary force operating on the James River under Generals Phillips and Arnold. To fall back would be a confession that the weary marching and fighting of months past had been without results, and the general readily convinced himself that the Chesapeake was the proper seat of war, even if New York itself had to be abandoned. The commander-in-chief, Sir Henry Clinton, by no means shared this opinion, upon which was justified a step taken without asking him. "Operations in the Chesapeake," he wrote, "are attended with great risk unless we are sure of a permanent superiority at sea. I tremble for the fatal consequences that may ensue." For Cornwallis, taking the matter into his own hands, had marched from Wilmington on the 25th of April, 1781, joining the British already at Petersburg on the 20th of May. The forces thus united numbered seven thousand men. Driven back from the open country of South Carolina into Charleston, there now remained two centres of British power,—at New York and in the Chesapeake. With New Jersey and Pennsylvania in the hands of the Americans, communication between the two depended wholly upon the sea.
The invasion of the Southern States by the British, starting in Georgia and followed by the capture of Charleston and military control of the two outer states, had pushed northward through Camden into North Carolina. On August 16, 1780, General Gates suffered a total defeat at Camden; and over the next nine months, the British under Cornwallis continued their efforts to overrun North Carolina. These operations, which aren't the main focus here, ultimately forced Cornwallis, despite his many victories, to retreat exhausted toward the coastline, ending up in Wilmington, where supplies for such a situation had been stockpiled. His rival, General Greene, then redirected the American troops toward South Carolina. Cornwallis, too weak to think about controlling or even advancing into the heart of an unfriendly territory, had to decide between returning to Charleston to stabilize the shaken British hold there and in South Carolina, or moving north again into Virginia to join a small expeditionary force operating on the James River under Generals Phillips and Arnold. Retreating would mean admitting that the exhausting marching and fighting of the past months had produced no results, and the general easily convinced himself that the Chesapeake was the right place for the war, even if it meant abandoning New York. The commander-in-chief, Sir Henry Clinton, did not share this view and felt justified in taking action without consulting him. "Operations in the Chesapeake," he wrote, "carry significant risk unless we are certain of a lasting superiority at sea. I fear the disastrous consequences that may follow." For Cornwallis, taking matters into his own hands, marched from Wilmington on April 25, 1781, joining the British already stationed at Petersburg on May 20. The combined forces numbered seven thousand men. Driven back from the open countryside of South Carolina into Charleston, there remained two centers of British power: New York and the Chesapeake. With New Jersey and Pennsylvania in American hands, communication between the two was entirely dependent on the sea.
Despite his unfavorable criticism of Cornwallis's action, Clinton had himself already risked a large detachment in the Chesapeake. A body of sixteen hundred men under Benedict Arnold had ravaged the country of the James and burned Richmond in January of this same year. In the hopes of capturing Arnold, Lafayette had been sent to Virginia with a nucleus of twelve hundred troops, and on the evening of the 8th of March the French squadron at Newport sailed, in concerted movement, to control the waters of the bay. Admiral Arbuthnot, commanding the English fleet lying [386]in Gardiner's Bay,[145] learned the departure by his lookouts, and started in pursuit on the morning of the 10th, thirty-six hours later. Favored either by diligence or luck, he made such good time that when the two fleets came in sight of each other, a little outside of the capes of the Chesapeake, the English were leading[146] (Plate XII., A, A). They at once went about to meet their enemy, who, on his part, formed a line-of-battle. The wind at this time was west, so that neither could head directly into the bay.
Despite his negative criticism of Cornwallis's actions, Clinton had already risked a large group of troops in the Chesapeake. A force of sixteen hundred men under Benedict Arnold had devastated the region of the James and burned Richmond back in January of this same year. In hopes of capturing Arnold, Lafayette was sent to Virginia with a core of twelve hundred troops, and on the evening of March 8th, the French squadron at Newport set sail to control the waters of the bay. Admiral Arbuthnot, who was in charge of the English fleet stationed in Gardiner's Bay, learned about the departure from his lookouts and began pursuit on the morning of the 10th, thirty-six hours later. Whether by hard work or luck, he made such good progress that when the two fleets spotted each other just outside the capes of the Chesapeake, the English were in the lead. They immediately turned to confront their enemy, who, in response, formed a battle line. At that time, the wind was coming from the west, preventing either side from heading directly into the bay.
The two fleets were nearly equal in strength, there being eight ships on each side; but the English had one ninety-gun ship, while of the French one was only a heavy frigate, which was put into the line. Nevertheless, the case was eminently one for the general French policy to have determined the action of a vigorous chief, and the failure to see the matter through must fall upon the good-will of Commodore Destouches, or upon some other cause than that preference for the ulterior objects of the operations, of which the reader of French naval history hears so much. The weather was boisterous and threatening, and the wind, after hauling once or twice, settled down to northeast, with a big sea, but was then fair for entering the bay. The two fleets were by this time both on the port tack standing out to sea, the French leading, and about a point on the weather bow of the English (B, B). From this position they wore in succession (c) ahead of the latter, taking the lee-gage, and thus gaining the use of their lower batteries, which the heavy sea forbade to the weather-gage. The English stood on till abreast the enemy's line (a, b), when they wore together, and soon after attacked in the usual manner, and with the usual results (C). The three van ships were very badly injured aloft, but in their turn, throwing their force mainly on the two leaders of the enemy, crippled them seriously in hulls and rigging. The French van then kept away, and Arbuthnot, in perplexity, ordered his [387]van to haul the wind again. M. Destouches now executed a very neat movement by defiling. Signalling his van to haul up on the other tack (e), he led the rest of his squadron by the disabled English ships, and after giving them the successive broadsides of his comparatively fresh ships, wore (d), and out to sea (D). This was the end of the battle, in which the English certainly got the worst; but with their usual tenacity of purpose, being unable to pursue their enemy afloat, they steered for the bay (D), made the junction with Arnold, and thus broke up the plans of the French and Americans, from which so much had been hoped by Washington. There can be no doubt, after careful reading of the accounts, that after the fighting the French were in better force than the English, and they in fact claimed the victory; yet the ulterior objects of the expedition did not tempt them again to try the issue with a fleet of about their own size.[147]
The two fleets were almost equal in strength, with eight ships on each side; however, the English had one ninety-gun ship, while the French only had a heavy frigate, which was included in the line. Still, this situation clearly called for decisive action by a strong French leader, and if they failed to follow through, it rested on Commodore Destouches' goodwill or some other factor, rather than any traditional emphasis on broader operational goals often noted in French naval history. The weather was rough and threatening, and the wind, after shifting a couple of times, settled in from the northeast, creating a big sea, but it was favorable for entering the bay. At that point, both fleets were on the port tack heading out to sea, with the French leading and positioned about a point on the weather bow of the English (B, B). From their position, they maneuvered (c) ahead of the English, taking the leeward position and thereby utilizing their lower batteries, which the heavy sea prevented the English from using effectively. The English pressed on until they were opposite the enemy's line (a, b), then turned together and shortly afterward attacked in the usual manner, leading to typical outcomes (C). The three leading English ships sustained significant damage aloft, but in turn, concentrating their attack primarily on the two lead enemy ships, they severely damaged them in their hulls and rigging. The French lead then fell back, and Arbuthnot, confused, ordered his [387]lead ship to adjust course. M. Destouches executed a clever maneuver by threading through. Signaling his lead ship to change course to the opposite tack (e), he guided the rest of his squadron past the damaged English ships, delivering successive broadsides from his relatively fresh ships, then turned (d) and sailed back out to sea (D). This marked the end of the battle, in which the English clearly came off worse; yet, true to their usual determination, unable to chase their enemy successfully, they headed for the bay (D), joined up with Arnold, and effectively disrupted the plans of the French and Americans, from which Washington had hoped for so much. There is little doubt, upon detailed examination of the accounts, that after the fighting, the French were in a stronger position than the English, and they claimed victory; still, the broader objectives of the expedition did not encourage them to challenge the English fleet of roughly equal size again.[147]
The way of the sea being thus open and held in force, two thousand more English troops sailing from New York reached Virginia on the 26th of March, and the subsequent arrival of Cornwallis in May raised the number to seven thousand. The operations of the contending forces during the spring and summer months, in which Lafayette commanded the Americans, do not concern our subject. Early in August, Cornwallis, acting under orders from Clinton, withdrew his troops into the peninsula between the York and James rivers, and occupied Yorktown.
The sea route being clear and secure, an additional two thousand English troops sailed from New York and arrived in Virginia on March 26th. Cornwallis's arrival in May brought the total to seven thousand. The activities of both sides during the spring and summer, where Lafayette led the Americans, are outside our focus. In early August, Cornwallis, following orders from Clinton, pulled his troops into the peninsula between the York and James rivers and took control of Yorktown.
Washington and Rochambeau had met on the 21st of May, and decided that the situation demanded that the effort of the French West Indian fleet, when it came, should be directed against either New York or the Chesapeake. This was the tenor of the despatch found by De Grasse at Cap Français, [388]and meantime the allied generals drew their troops toward New York, where they would be on hand for the furtherance of one object, and nearer the second if they had to make for it.
Washington and Rochambeau met on May 21 and determined that the situation required the French West Indian fleet, when it arrived, to focus its efforts either on New York or the Chesapeake. This was the content of the dispatch that De Grasse found at Cap Français, [388] and in the meantime, the allied generals moved their troops toward New York, positioning themselves to support one objective and being closer to the second if they needed to go for it.
In either case the result, in the opinion both of Washington and of the French government, depended upon superior sea power; but Rochambeau had privately notified the admiral that his own preference was for the Chesapeake as the scene of the intended operations, and moreover the French government had declined to furnish the means for a formal siege of New York.[148] The enterprise therefore assumed the form of an extensive military combination, dependent upon ease and rapidity of movement, and upon blinding the eyes of the enemy to the real objective,—purposes to which the peculiar qualities of a navy admirably lent themselves. The shorter distance to be traversed, the greater depth of water and easier pilotage of the Chesapeake, were further reasons which would commend the scheme to the judgment of a seaman; and De Grasse readily accepted it, without making difficulties or demanding modifications which would have involved discussion and delay.
In either case, both Washington and the French government believed that the outcome depended on superior naval power. However, Rochambeau had privately informed the admiral that he preferred the Chesapeake as the location for the planned operations, and the French government had also decided not to provide the resources for a formal siege of New York.[148] As a result, the operation took the form of a large-scale military strategy that relied on quick movement and misleading the enemy about the actual goal. These were objectives that a navy was particularly well-suited for. The shorter distance to cover, along with the deeper water and easier navigation in the Chesapeake, were additional reasons that would appeal to a sailor's judgment; and De Grasse readily agreed to it without raising objections or asking for changes that would lead to discussions and delays.
Having made his decision, the French admiral acted with great good judgment, promptitude, and vigor. The same frigate that brought despatches from Washington was sent back, so that by August 15th the allied generals knew of the intended coming of the fleet. Thirty-five hundred soldiers were spared by the governor of Cap Français, upon the condition of a Spanish squadron anchoring at the place, which De Grasse procured. He also raised from the governor of Havana the money urgently needed by the Americans; and finally, instead of weakening his force by sending convoys to France, as the court had wished, he took every available ship to the Chesapeake. To conceal his coming as long as possible, he passed through the Bahama Channel, as a less frequented route, and on the 30th of August anchored in Lynnhaven Bay, just within the capes of the Chesapeake, with twenty-eight ships-of-the-line. Three days before, August 27, [389]the French squadron at Newport, eight ships-of-the-line with four frigates and eighteen transports under M. de Barras, sailed for the rendezvous; making, however, a wide circuit out to sea to avoid the English. This course was the more necessary as the French siege-artillery was with it. The troops under Washington and Rochambeau had crossed the Hudson on the 24th of August, moving toward the head of Chesapeake Bay. Thus the different armed forces, both land and sea, were converging toward their objective, Cornwallis.
After making his decision, the French admiral acted with great judgment, speed, and energy. The same frigate that delivered messages from Washington was sent back, so by August 15th, the allied generals were aware of the fleet's planned arrival. The governor of Cap Français spared three thousand five hundred soldiers on the condition that a Spanish squadron would anchor there, which De Grasse arranged. He also secured the urgently needed funds from the governor of Havana for the Americans; and ultimately, instead of weakening his force by sending ships back to France, as the court wanted, he took every available ship to the Chesapeake. To keep his arrival concealed for as long as possible, he traveled through the Bahama Channel, a less common route, and on August 30th anchored in Lynnhaven Bay, just inside the Chesapeake capes, with twenty-eight ships of the line. Three days earlier, on August 27, [389] the French squadron at Newport, consisting of eight ships of the line, four frigates, and eighteen transports under M. de Barras, set sail for the meeting point, making a wide detour out to sea to avoid the English. This route was especially necessary as the French siege artillery was with them. The troops under Washington and Rochambeau crossed the Hudson on August 24th, moving toward the head of Chesapeake Bay. Thus, the various armed forces, both land and sea, were converging on their target, Cornwallis.
The English were unfortunate in all directions. Rodney, learning of De Grasse's departure, sent fourteen ships-of-the-line under Admiral Hood to North America, and himself sailed for England in August, on account of ill health. Hood, going by the direct route, reached the Chesapeake three days before De Grasse, looked into the bay, and finding it empty went on to New York. There he met five ships-of-the-line under Admiral Graves, who, being senior officer, took command of the whole force and sailed on the 31st of August for the Chesapeake, hoping to intercept De Barras before he could join De Grasse. It was not till two days later that Sir Henry Clinton was persuaded that the allied armies had gone against Cornwallis, and had too far the start to be overtaken.
The English faced misfortune from all sides. Rodney, learning about De Grasse's departure, sent fourteen ships-of-the-line under Admiral Hood to North America and sailed back to England in August due to health issues. Hood took the direct route and arrived in the Chesapeake three days before De Grasse. Finding the bay empty, he continued on to New York. There, he met five ships-of-the-line under Admiral Graves, who, as the senior officer, took command of the entire fleet and set sail on August 31 for the Chesapeake, hoping to intercept De Barras before he could join De Grasse. It wasn't until two days later that Sir Henry Clinton was convinced that the allied forces had moved against Cornwallis and were too far ahead to catch up.
Admiral Graves was painfully surprised, on making the Chesapeake, to find anchored there a fleet which from its numbers could only be an enemy's. Nevertheless, he stood in to meet it, and as De Grasse got under way, allowing his ships to be counted, the sense of numerical inferiority—nineteen to twenty-four—did not deter the English admiral from attacking. The clumsiness of his method, however, betrayed his gallantry; many of his ships were roughly handled, without any advantage being gained. De Grasse, expecting De Barras, remained outside five days, keeping the English fleet in play without coming to action; then returning to port he found De Barras safely at anchor. Graves went back to New York, and with him disappeared the last hope of succor that was to gladden Cornwallis's eyes. The siege was [390]steadily endured, but the control of the sea made only one issue possible, and the English forces were surrendered October 19, 1781. With this disaster the hope of subduing the colonies died in England. The conflict flickered through a year longer, but no serious operations were undertaken.
Admiral Graves was shocked to find a fleet anchored in the Chesapeake, and the large number indicated it could only be an enemy's. Still, he decided to engage with it, and as De Grasse got underway, allowing his ships to be counted, the feeling of being outnumbered—nineteen to twenty-four—didn’t stop the English admiral from launching an attack. However, his uncoordinated approach showed his bravery; many of his ships were badly damaged without gaining any advantage. De Grasse, waiting for De Barras, stayed outside for five days, keeping the English fleet occupied without engaging in battle; when he returned to port, he found De Barras safely anchored. Graves headed back to New York, taking with him the last hope of support that could have buoyed Cornwallis. The siege was [390] steadily endured, but the control of the sea allowed for only one outcome, leading to the surrender of the English forces on October 19, 1781. With this defeat, the hope of defeating the colonies vanished in England. The conflict still dragged on for another year, but no serious operations were carried out.
In the conduct of the English operations, which ended thus unfortunately, there was both bad management and ill fortune. Hood's detachment might have been strengthened by several ships from Jamaica, had Rodney's orders been carried out.[149] The despatch-ship, also, sent by him to Admiral Graves commanding in New York, found that officer absent on a cruise to the eastward, with a view to intercept certain very important supplies which had been forwarded by the American agent in France. The English Court had laid great stress upon cutting off this convoy; but, with the knowledge that he had of the force accompanying it, the admiral was probably ill-advised in leaving his headquarters himself, with all his fleet, at the time when the approach of the hurricane season in the West Indies directed the active operations of the navies toward the continent. In consequence of his absence, although Rodney's despatches were at once sent on by the senior officer in New York, the vessel carrying them being driven ashore by enemy's cruisers, Graves did not learn their contents until his return to port, August 16. The information sent by Hood of his coming was also intercepted. After Hood's arrival, it does not appear that there was avoidable delay in going to sea; but there does seem to have been misjudgment in the direction given to the fleet. It was known that De Barras had sailed from Newport with eight ships, bound probably for the Chesapeake, certainly to effect a junction with De Grasse; and it has been judiciously pointed out that if Graves had taken up his cruising-ground near the Capes, but out of sight of land, he could hardly have failed to fall in with him in overwhelming force. Knowing what is now known, this would undoubtedly have been the proper thing to do; but the English admiral had imperfect [391]information. It was nowhere expected that the French would bring nearly the force they did; and Graves lost information, which he ought to have received, as to their numbers, by the carelessness of his cruisers stationed off the Chesapeake. These had been ordered to keep under way, but were both at anchor under Cape Henry when De Grasse's appearance cut off their escape. One was captured, the other driven up York River. No single circumstance contributed more to the general result than the neglect of these two subordinate officers, by which Graves lost that all-important information. It can readily be conceived how his movements might have been affected, had he known two days earlier that De Grasse had brought twenty-seven or twenty-eight sail of the line; how natural would have been the conclusion, first, to waylay De Barras, with whom his own nineteen could more than cope. "Had Admiral Graves succeeded in capturing that squadron, it would have greatly paralyzed the besieging army [it had the siege train on board], if it would not have prevented its operations altogether; it would have put the two fleets nearly on an equality in point of numbers, would have arrested the progress of the French arms for the ensuing year in the West Indies, and might possibly have created such a spirit of discord between the French and Americans[150] as would have sunk the latter into the lowest depths of despair, from which they were only extricated by the arrival of the forces under De Grasse."[151] These are true and sober comments upon the naval strategy.
In how the English operations were conducted, which unfortunately ended badly, there was both poor management and bad luck. Hood’s detachment could have been reinforced by several ships from Jamaica if Rodney’s orders had been followed.[149] The dispatch ship he sent to Admiral Graves, who was in charge in New York, found that Graves was away on a mission to the east to intercept some important supplies sent by the American agent in France. The English Court had emphasized the importance of cutting off this convoy; however, the admiral’s decision to leave his headquarters with his entire fleet during a time when the hurricane season in the West Indies required active naval operations on the continent was probably not wise. As a result of his absence, although Rodney’s dispatches were immediately forwarded by the senior officer in New York, that vessel was driven ashore by enemy cruisers, so Graves didn’t learn their contents until he returned to port on August 16. The information Hood sent about his arrival was also intercepted. After Hood arrived, it seems there was no unnecessary delay in going to sea, but there does appear to have been a mistake in the direction given to the fleet. It was known that De Barras had left Newport with eight ships likely heading for the Chesapeake, certainly to join up with De Grasse; and it has been wisely noted that if Graves had chosen to cruise near the Capes, but out of sight of land, he likely would have encountered them with overwhelming force. Knowing what we know now, this would certainly have been the right move; but the English admiral had incomplete [391]information. It was not expected that the French would have nearly the force they did; and Graves missed crucial information about their numbers due to the negligence of his cruisers stationed off the Chesapeake. These cruisers were supposed to remain active, but they were both anchored under Cape Henry when De Grasse showed up and cut off their escape. One was captured, the other was forced up York River. No single factor contributed more to the overall outcome than the failure of these two subordinate officers, which caused Graves to lose that vital information. It is easy to see how his decisions might have changed if he had known two days earlier that De Grasse had brought twenty-seven or twenty-eight warships; how logical it would have been to ambush De Barras, with whom his own nineteen ships could have more than held their own. "If Admiral Graves had managed to capture that squadron, it would have severely hampered the besieging army [which was carrying the siege train], if it wouldn't have completely stalled their efforts altogether; it would have nearly balanced the two fleets in number, halted the momentum of the French forces for the following year in the West Indies, and might have created such discord between the French and Americans[150] that the Americans would have sunk into deep despair, from which they were only saved by the arrival of De Grasse's troops."[151] These are genuine and thoughtful comments on the naval strategy.
In regard to the admiral's tactics, it will be enough to say that the fleet was taken into battle nearly as Byng took his; that very similar mishaps resulted; and that, when attacking twenty-four ships with nineteen, seven, under that capable officer Hood, were not able to get into action, owing to the dispositions made.
Regarding the admiral's tactics, it's enough to say that the fleet was brought into battle almost the same way Byng did; very similar misfortunes occurred; and that, when facing twenty-four ships with nineteen, seven, under the skilled officer Hood, couldn't get into action due to the arrangements made.
[392]On the French side De Grasse must be credited with a degree of energy, foresight, and determination surprising in view of his failures at other times. The decision to take every ship with him, which made him independent of any failure on the part of De Barras; the passage through the Bahama Channel to conceal his movements; the address with which he obtained the money and troops required, from the Spanish and the French military authorities; the prevision which led him, as early as March 29, shortly after leaving Brest, to write to Rochambeau that American coast pilots should be sent to Cap Français; the coolness with which he kept Graves amused until De Barras's squadron had slipped in, are all points worthy of admiration. The French were also helped by the admiral's power to detain the two hundred merchant-ships, the "West India trade," awaiting convoy at Cap Français, where they remained from July till November, when the close of operations left him at liberty to convoy them with ships-of-war. The incident illustrates one weakness of a mercantile country with representative government, compared with a purely military nation. "If the British government," wrote an officer of that day, "had sanctioned, or a British admiral had adopted, such a measure, the one would have been turned out and the other hanged."[152] Rodney at the same time had felt it necessary to detach five ships-of-the-line with convoys, while half a dozen more went home with the trade from Jamaica.
[392]On the French side, De Grasse deserves recognition for a surprising level of energy, foresight, and determination given his past failures. His choice to take every ship with him ensured he wouldn’t rely on De Barras’s performance; his passage through the Bahama Channel was cleverly executed to hide his movements; he skillfully secured funds and troops from the Spanish and French military authorities; and he foresaw the need to request American coast pilots be sent to Cap Français as early as March 29, shortly after leaving Brest. He maintained his cool while keeping Graves entertained until De Barras's squadron was able to sneak in, all of which is admirable. The French also benefited from the admiral's ability to hold back two hundred merchant ships in the "West India trade" awaiting protection at Cap Français, where they stayed from July until November, allowing him to escort them with warships after operations concluded. This situation highlights a weakness of a trading country with a representative government compared to a purely military nation. "If the British government," wrote an officer of that time, "had approved or if a British admiral had implemented such a plan, one would have been removed from power and the other executed."[152] At the same time, Rodney felt it necessary to detach five ships-of-the-line for convoys, while several more returned home with trade from Jamaica.
It is easier to criticise the division of the English fleet between the West Indies and North America in the successive years 1780 and 1781, than to realize the embarrassment of the situation. This embarrassment was but the reflection of the military difficulty of England's position, all over the world, in this great and unequal war. England was everywhere outmatched and embarrassed, as she has always been as an empire, by the number of her exposed points. In Europe the Channel fleet was more than once driven into its ports by overwhelming forces. Gibraltar, closely blockaded [393]by land and sea, was only kept alive in its desperate resistance by the skill of English seamen triumphing over the inaptness and discords of their combined enemies. In the East Indies, Sir Edward Hughes met in Suffren an opponent as superior to him in numbers as was De Grasse to Hood, and of far greater ability. Minorca, abandoned by the home government, fell before superior strength, as has been seen to fall, one by one, the less important of the English Antilles. The position of England from the time that France and Spain opened their maritime war was everywhere defensive, except in North America; and was therefore, from the military point of view, essentially false. She everywhere awaited attacks which the enemies, superior in every case, could make at their own choice and their own time. North America was really no exception to this rule, despite some offensive operations which in no way injured her real, that is her naval, foes.
It's easier to criticize how the English fleet was divided between the West Indies and North America in 1780 and 1781 than to understand the difficulties of the situation. This struggle was just a reflection of England's military challenges globally in this vast and uneven war. England faced numerous problems and was often outmatched, as has been the case with empires throughout history, due to the many vulnerable points she had. In Europe, the Channel fleet was repeatedly forced back into port by overwhelming enemy forces. Gibraltar, heavily blockaded by land and sea, only survived thanks to the skill of English sailors who overcame the incompetence and quarrels among their combined foes. In the East Indies, Sir Edward Hughes encountered Suffren, who had superior numbers as well as far greater capability than him, much like De Grasse had over Hood. Minorca, abandoned by the home government, succumbed to stronger forces, just like many of the less significant English islands in the Antilles had. From the moment France and Spain started their maritime war, England's position was mainly defensive, except in North America, which created a fundamentally flawed military stance. She was always waiting for attacks that her stronger enemies could launch whenever and however they wanted. North America really wasn’t an exception to this, despite some offensive efforts that did little to harm her true enemies, namely her naval opponents.
Thus situated, and putting aside questions of national pride or sensitiveness, what did military wisdom prescribe to England? The question would afford an admirable study to a military inquirer, and is not to be answered off-hand, but certain evident truths may be pointed out. In the first place, it should have been determined what part of the assailed empire was most necessary to be preserved. After the British islands themselves, the North American colonies were the most valuable possessions in the eyes of the England of that day. Next should have been decided what others by their natural importance were best worth preserving, and by their own inherent strength, or that of the empire, which was mainly naval strength, could most surely be held. In the Mediterranean, for instance, Gibraltar and Mahon were both very valuable positions. Could both be held? Which was more easily to be reached and supported by the fleet? If both could not probably be held, one should have been frankly abandoned, and the force and efforts necessary to its defence carried elsewhere. So in the West Indies the evident strategic advantages of Barbadoes and Sta. Lucia prescribed the abandonment of the other small islands by garrisons as soon as [394]the fleet was fairly outnumbered, if not before. The case of so large an island as Jamaica must be studied separately, as well as with reference to the general question. Such an island may be so far self-supporting as to defy any attack but one in great force and numbers, and that would rightly draw to it the whole English force from the windward stations at Barbadoes and Sta. Lucia.
Given the situation and setting aside issues of national pride or sensitivity, what should military strategy recommend for England? This question would provide an excellent case study for a military researcher and can't be answered immediately, but some clear truths can be highlighted. First, it should have been established which parts of the threatened empire were most crucial to protect. After the British islands themselves, the North American colonies were the most valuable possessions in the eyes of England at the time. Next, it should have been determined which other territories were of significant natural importance and could be held most securely due to their own strengths or the empire's, primarily its naval power. For example, in the Mediterranean, both Gibraltar and Mahon were critical positions. Could both be maintained? Which one could be more easily accessed and supported by the fleet? If it seemed likely that both could not be held, one should have been surrendered without hesitation, redirecting the resources and efforts needed for its defense elsewhere. Likewise, in the West Indies, the clear strategic advantages of Barbadoes and St. Lucia indicated that the other smaller islands should have been abandoned by garrisons as soon as the fleet was significantly outnumbered, if not sooner. The situation of a large island like Jamaica should be evaluated separately, as well as in relation to the broader issue. Such an island might be self-sufficient enough to withstand any attack except one conducted with overwhelming force and numbers, which would justifiably require the entire English force from the windward stations at Barbadoes and St. Lucia to be drawn to it.
With the defence thus concentrated, England's great weapon, the navy, should have been vigorously used on the offensive. Experience has taught that free nations, popular governments, will seldom dare wholly to remove the force that lies between an invader and its shores or capital. Whatever the military wisdom, therefore, of sending the Channel fleet to seek the enemy before it united, the step may not have been possible. But at points less vital the attack of the English should have anticipated that of the allies. This was most especially true of that theatre of the war which has so far been considered. If North America was the first object, Jamaica and the other islands should have been boldly risked. It is due to Rodney to say that he claims that his orders to the admirals at Jamaica and New York were disobeyed in 1781, and that to this was owing the inferiority in number of Graves's fleet.
With the defense focused this way, England's greatest asset, the navy, should have been actively used offensively. Experience shows that free nations and popular governments rarely take the risk of completely removing the forces that stand between an invader and their shores or capital. Regardless of the military strategy, sending the Channel fleet to confront the enemy before they joined forces might not have been feasible. However, in less critical areas, the English should have anticipated and attacked before the allies did. This was especially true in the war theater previously discussed. If North America was the primary target, bold risks should have been taken with Jamaica and the other islands. It’s important to note that Rodney claims his orders to the admirals in Jamaica and New York were ignored in 1781, which contributed to Graves's fleet being outnumbered.
But why, in 1780, when the departure of De Guichen for Europe left Rodney markedly superior in numbers during his short visit to North America, from September 14 to November 14, should no attempt have been made to destroy the French detachment of seven ships-of-the-line in Newport? These ships had arrived there in July; but although they had at once strengthened their position by earthworks, great alarm was excited by the news of Rodney's appearance off the coast. A fortnight passed by Rodney in New York and by the French in busy work, placed the latter, in their own opinion, in a position to brave all the naval force of England. "We twice feared, and above all at the time of Rodney's arrival," wrote the chief of staff of the French squadron, "that the English might attack us in the road itself; and there was [395]a space of time during which such an undertaking would not have been an act of rashness. Now [October 20], the anchorage is fortified so that we can there brave all the naval force of England."[153]
But why, in 1780, when De Guichen left for Europe and Rodney had a clear numerical advantage during his brief visit to North America from September 14 to November 14, was there no effort made to take out the French fleet of seven ships-of-the-line in Newport? These ships had arrived in July, and although they quickly fortified their position with earthworks, there was significant concern when news broke of Rodney's presence off the coast. Rodney spent two weeks in New York while the French worked hard, and they felt prepared to face all of England's naval power. "We were twice worried, especially when Rodney first arrived," wrote the chief of staff of the French squadron, "that the English might attack us right in the harbor; and there was a time when such an attempt wouldn’t have been considered reckless. Now [October 20], the anchorage is fortified so that we can withstand all of England's naval forces."
The position thus taken by the French was undoubtedly very strong.[154] It formed a re-entrant angle of a little over ninety degrees, contained by lines drawn from Goat Island to what was then called Brenton's Point, the site of the present Fort Adams on the one side, and to Rose Island on the other. On the right flank of the position Rose Island received a battery of thirty-six 24-pounders; while twelve guns of the same size were placed on the left flank at Brenton's Point. Between Rose and Goat islands four ships, drawn up on a west-northwest line, bore upon the entrance and raked an approaching fleet; while three others, between Goat Island and Brenton's Point, crossed their fire at right angles with the former four.
The position taken by the French was definitely very strong.[154] It formed a re-entrant angle of a little over ninety degrees, enclosed by lines drawn from Goat Island to what was then called Brenton's Point, where Fort Adams is now located on one side, and to Rose Island on the other. On the right flank, Rose Island had a battery of thirty-six 24-pounders; while twelve guns of the same size were stationed on the left flank at Brenton's Point. Between Rose and Goat Islands, four ships, lined up on a west-northwest angle, targeted the entrance and fired on any approaching fleet, while three other ships, positioned between Goat Island and Brenton's Point, crossed their fire at right angles to the first four.
On the other hand, the summer winds blow directly up the entrance, often with great force. There could be no question even of a considerably crippled attacking ship reaching her destined position, and when once confused with the enemy's line, the shore batteries would be neutralized. The work on Rose Island certainly, that on Brenton's Point probably, had less height than the two upper batteries of a ship-of-the-line, and could be vastly outnumbered. They could not have been casemated, and might indisputably have been silenced by the grapeshot of the ships that could have been brought against them. Rose Island could be approached on the front and on the west flank within two hundred yards, and on the north within half a mile. There was nothing to prevent this right flank of the French, including the line of ships, being [396]enfiladed and crushed by the English ships taking position west of Rose Island. The essential points of close range and superior height were thus possible to the English fleet, which numbered twenty to the enemy's seven. If successful in destroying the shipping and reducing Rose Island, it could find anchorage farther up the bay and await a favorable wind to retire. In the opinion of a distinguished English naval officer of the day,[155] closely familiar with the ground, there was no doubt of the success of an attack; and he urged it frequently upon Rodney, offering himself to pilot the leading ship. The security felt by the French in this position, and the acquiescence of the English in that security, mark clearly the difference in spirit between this war and the wars of Nelson and Napoleon.
On the other hand, the summer winds blow straight up the entrance, often with significant force. There’s no way even a badly damaged attacking ship could reach its intended position, and once it got mixed up with the enemy's line, the shore batteries would be rendered ineffective. The work on Rose Island definitely, and Brenton's Point probably, were not as tall as the two upper batteries of a ship-of-the-line and could be vastly outnumbered. They couldn’t have been casemated, and could easily have been silenced by the grapeshot from the ships that could have been brought against them. Rose Island could be approached from the front and from the west flank within two hundred yards, and from the north within half a mile. There was nothing preventing the French right flank, including the line of ships, from being [396]enfiladed and defeated by the English ships taking position to the west of Rose Island. The critical points of close range and superior height were thus available to the English fleet, which outnumbered the enemy twenty to seven. If they succeeded in destroying the shipping and taking Rose Island, they could anchor further up the bay and wait for a favorable wind to retreat. According to a noted English naval officer of the time,[155] who was very familiar with the area, there was no doubt that an attack would be successful, and he frequently urged Rodney to pursue it, offering to pilot the leading ship. The confidence the French felt in this position and the English’s acceptance of that confidence clearly highlight the difference in attitude between this war and the conflicts involving Nelson and Napoleon.
It is not, however, merely as an isolated operation, but in relation to the universal war, that such an attempt is here considered. England stood everywhere on the defensive, with inferior numbers. From such a position there is no salvation except by action vigorous almost to desperation. "It is impossible for us," wrote with great truth the First Lord of the Admiralty to Rodney, "to have a superior fleet in every part; and unless our commanders-in-chief will take the great line, as you do, and consider the king's whole dominions under their care, our enemies must find us unprepared somewhere, and carry their point against us."[156] Attacks which considered in themselves alone might be thought unjustifiable, were imposed upon English commanders. The allied navy was the key of the situation, and its large detachments, as at Newport, should have been crushed at any risk. The effect of such a line of action upon the policy of the French government is a matter of speculation, as to which the present writer has no doubts; but no English officer in chief [397]command rose to the level of the situation, with the exception of Hood, and possibly of Howe. Rodney was now old, infirm, and though of great ability, a careful tactician rather than a great admiral.
It is not just an isolated action we're looking at, but its connection to the overall war. England was on the defensive everywhere and had fewer troops. There’s no way to escape this situation except through action that's almost desperate. "It’s impossible for us," wrote the First Lord of the Admiralty to Rodney with great truth, "to have a superior fleet in every area; unless our commanders-in-chief take the broader view, like you do, and consider the king's entire territory under their responsibility, our enemies will find us unprepared somewhere and will succeed against us." [156] Attacks that might seem unjustifiable on their own were forced upon English commanders. The allied navy was crucial to the situation, and its large detachments, like the one at Newport, should have been defeated at any cost. The impact of such a strategy on French government policy is speculative, but I have no doubts about it; however, no English chief officer stepped up to the occasion, except possibly Hood and Howe. Rodney was now old and weak, and though he was very capable, he was more of a careful tactician than a great admiral.
The defeat of Graves and subsequent surrender of Cornwallis did not end the naval operations in the western hemisphere. On the contrary, one of the most interesting tactical feats and the most brilliant victory of the whole war were yet to grace the English flag in the West Indies; but with the events at Yorktown the patriotic interest for Americans closes. Before quitting that struggle for independence, it must again be affirmed that its successful ending, at least at so early a date, was due to the control of the sea,—to sea power in the hands of the French, and its improper distribution by the English authorities. This assertion may be safely rested on the authority of the one man who, above all others, thoroughly knew the resources of the country, the temper of the people, the difficulties of the struggle, and whose name is still the highest warrant for sound, quiet, unfluttered good-sense and patriotism.
The defeat of Graves and the surrender of Cornwallis didn't mark the end of naval operations in the Western Hemisphere. On the contrary, some of the most interesting tactical maneuvers and the most brilliant victory of the entire war were still to come for the English flag in the West Indies. However, with the events at Yorktown, patriotic sentiment for Americans was coming to a close. Before moving on from that fight for independence, it needs to be emphasized again that its successful conclusion, at least at such an early date, was due to control of the sea—thanks to sea power in the hands of the French and its mismanagement by the English authorities. This statement can be confidently supported by the one man who, more than anyone else, understood the country's resources, the people's spirit, the challenges of the fight, and whose name remains the strongest symbol of sound, calm, and unwavering sense and patriotism.
The keynote to all Washington's utterances is set in the "Memorandum for concerting a plan of operations with the French army," dated July 15, 1780, and sent by the hands of Lafayette:—
The key point of all of Washington's statements is found in the "Memorandum for concerting a plan of operations with the French army," dated July 15, 1780, and delivered by Lafayette:—
"The Marquis de Lafayette will be pleased to communicate the following general ideas to Count de Rochambeau and the Chevalier de Ternay, as the sentiments of the underwritten:
"The Marquis de Lafayette is happy to share the following general ideas with Count de Rochambeau and the Chevalier de Ternay, representing the thoughts of the undersigned:
"I. In any operation, and under all circumstances, a decisive naval superiority is to be considered as a fundamental principle, and the basis upon which every hope of success must ultimately depend."
"I. In any operation, and in all situations, having clear naval superiority should be seen as a key principle and the foundation on which all hopes for success must ultimately rest."
This, however, though the most formal and decisive expression of Washington's views, is but one among many others equally distinct. Thus, writing to Franklin, December 20, 1780, he says:—
This, however, while the most formal and clear expression of Washington's views, is just one of many others that are equally distinct. So, when writing to Franklin on December 20, 1780, he states:—
"Disappointed of the second division of French troops [blockaded in Brest], but more especially in the expected naval superiority, which [398]was the pivot upon which everything turned, we have been compelled to spend an inactive campaign after a flattering prospect at the opening of it.... Latterly we have been obliged to become spectators of a succession of detachments from the army at New York in aid of Lord Cornwallis; while our naval weakness, and the political dissolution of a large part of our army, put it out of our power to counteract them at the southward, or to take advantage of them here."
"Disappointed by the second division of French troops [blockaded in Brest], but especially in the expected naval superiority, which [398] was the focus of everything, we've had no choice but to endure a stagnant campaign after an optimistic start.... Recently, we've had to watch as a series of detachments from the army at New York supported Lord Cornwallis; meanwhile, our naval weakness and the political breakdown of a significant part of our army have made it impossible for us to respond to them in the south or to take advantage of the situation here."
A month later, January 15, 1781, in a memorandum letter to Colonel Laurens, sent on a special mission to France, he says:—
A month later, on January 15, 1781, in a memo to Colonel Laurens, who was on a special mission to France, he writes:—
"Next to a loan of money, a constant naval superiority upon these coasts is the object most interesting. This would instantly reduce the enemy to a difficult defensive.... Indeed, it is not to be conceived how they could subsist a large force in this country, if we had the command of the seas to interrupt the regular transmission of supplies from Europe. This superiority, with an aid in money, would enable us to convert the war into a vigorous offensive. With respect to us it seems to be one of two deciding points."
"Aside from a loan of money, having constant naval superiority on these coasts is the most crucial goal. This would immediately put the enemy in a tough defensive position. In fact, it’s hard to imagine how they could support a large force in this country if we controlled the seas and disrupted the regular flow of supplies from Europe. This superiority, along with financial support, would allow us to shift the war into a strong offensive. For us, it seems to be one of two key turning points."
In another letter to the same person, then in Paris, dated April 9, he writes:—
In another letter to the same person, then in Paris, dated April 9, he writes:—
"If France delays a timely and powerful aid in the critical posture of our affairs, it will avail us nothing, should she attempt it hereafter.... Why need I run into detail, when it may be declared in a word that we are at the end of our tether, and that now or never our deliverance must come? How easy would it be to retort the enemy's own game upon them, if it could be made to comport with the general plan of the war to keep a superior fleet always in these seas, and France would put us in condition to be active by advancing us money."
"If France delays giving us timely and strong support during this critical time, it won’t help us at all if they try to do it later…. Why do I need to go into detail when I can simply say that we are at the end of our rope, and our deliverance must happen now or never? How easy it would be to turn the enemy’s tactics against them if we could align it with the overall strategy of the war by keeping a stronger fleet in these waters, and France would enable us to act by providing us with funding."
Ships and money are the burden of his cry. May 23, 1781, he writes to the Chevalier de la Luzerne: "I do not see how it is possible to give effectual support to the Southern States, and avert the evils which threaten, while we are inferior in naval force in these seas." As the season for active operations advances, his utterances are more frequent and urgent. [399]To Major General Greene, struggling with his difficulties in South Carolina, he writes, June 1, 1781: "Our affairs have been attentively considered in every point of view, and it was finally determined to make an attempt upon New York, in preference to a Southern operation, as we had not decided command of the water." To Jefferson, June 8: "Should I be supported in the manner I expect, by the neighboring States, the enemy will, I hope, be reduced to the necessity of recalling part of their force from the southward to support New York, or they will run the most imminent risk of being expelled from that post, which is to them invaluable; and should we, by a lucky coincidence of circumstances, gain a naval superiority, their ruin would be inevitable.... While we remain inferior at sea ... policy dictates that relief should be attempted by diversion rather than by sending reinforcements immediately to the point in distress," that is, to the South. To Rochambeau, June 13: "Your Excellency will recollect that New York was looked upon by us as the only practicable object under present circumstances; but should we be able to secure a naval superiority, we may perhaps find others more practicable and equally advisable." By the 15th of August the letters of De Grasse announcing his sailing for the Chesapeake were received, and the correspondence of Washington is thenceforth filled with busy preparations for the campaign in Virginia, based upon the long-delayed fleet. The discouragement of De Grasse, and his purpose to go to sea, upon learning that the English fleet in New York had been reinforced, drew forth an appealing letter dated September 25, which is too long for quotation; but the danger passed, Washington's confidence returns. The day after the capitulation he writes to De Grasse: "The surrender of York ... the honor of which belongs to your Excellency, has greatly anticipated [in time] our most sanguine anticipations." He then goes on to urge further operations in the South, seeing so much of the good season was still left: "The general naval superiority of the British, previous to your arrival, gave them decisive advantages in [400]the South, in the rapid transport of their troops and supplies; while the immense land marches of our succors, too tardy and expensive in every point of view, subjected us to be beaten in detail. It will depend upon your Excellency, therefore, to terminate the war." De Grasse refusing this request, but intimating an intention to co-operate in the next year's campaign, Washington instantly accepts: "With your Excellency I need not insist upon the indispensable necessity of a maritime force capable of giving you an absolute ascendency in these seas.... You will have observed that, whatever efforts are made by the land armies, the navy must have the casting vote in the present contest." A fortnight later, November 15, he writes to Lafayette, who is on the point of sailing for France:—
Ships and money are the focus of his concerns. On May 23, 1781, he writes to the Chevalier de la Luzerne: "I don’t see how we can effectively support the Southern States and prevent the threats looming over them while we are at a disadvantage in naval strength in these waters." As the season for active operations approaches, his statements become more frequent and urgent. [399] To Major General Greene, who is facing challenges in South Carolina, he writes on June 1, 1781: "We've carefully considered our situation from every angle, and it was ultimately decided to make an attempt on New York instead of focusing on the South, as we did not have control of the waters." To Jefferson, on June 8: "If I receive the support I expect from the neighboring States, I hope the enemy will be forced to withdraw some of their forces from the south to reinforce New York, or they risk being expelled from that crucial position. If we coincidentally achieve naval superiority, their destruction would be unavoidable.... As long as we remain at a disadvantage at sea ... it is strategically better to attempt relief through diversion rather than immediately sending reinforcements to the distressed area," that is, to the South. To Rochambeau, June 13: "Your Excellency will recall that we viewed New York as our only viable target under the current circumstances; however, if we manage to secure naval superiority, we might discover other more feasible and equally wise targets." By August 15, they received letters from De Grasse announcing his departure for the Chesapeake, and Washington's correspondence from that point on is filled with preparations for the campaign in Virginia, based on the long-awaited fleet. The disappointment of De Grasse and his intention to leave upon hearing about the reinforcement of the English fleet in New York prompted an urgent letter from Washington on September 25, which is too lengthy to quote; but once the immediate danger passed, Washington regained his confidence. The day after the surrender, he writes to De Grasse: "The surrender of York ... the credit for which belongs to your Excellency, has greatly exceeded our most optimistic expectations." He then encourages further operations in the South, noting that there’s still plenty of good weather left: "The British had a clear advantage in the South due to their general naval superiority before your arrival, allowing them to quickly move their troops and supplies; while our delayed land reinforcements were too slow and costly, putting us at a disadvantage. Therefore, it will depend on your Excellency to bring this war to an end." De Grasse declined this request but hinted at a willingness to cooperate in next year's campaign, to which Washington immediately replied: "With you, Excellency, I need not emphasize the critical necessity of a maritime force capable of ensuring your absolute dominance in these waters.... You must have noticed that no matter the efforts made by the land armies, the navy will ultimately determine the outcome of this conflict." Two weeks later, on November 15, he writes to Lafayette, who is about to set sail for France:—
"As you expressed a desire to know my sentiments respecting the operations of the next campaign, I will, without a tedious display of reasoning, declare in one word that it must depend absolutely upon the naval force which is employed in these seas, and the time of its appearance next year. No land force can act decisively unless accompanied by a maritime superiority.... A doubt did not exist, nor does it at this moment, in any man's mind, of the total extirpation of the British force in the Carolinas and Georgia, if Count de Grasse could have extended his co-operation two months longer."
"As you wanted to know my thoughts about the next campaign, I will say simply that it completely depends on the naval forces in these waters and when they show up next year. No land force can make a significant impact without having naval superiority. There was never any doubt, and there still isn't, in anyone's mind about the total elimination of the British forces in the Carolinas and Georgia if Count de Grasse had been able to extend his support for two more months."
Such, in the opinion of the revered commander-in-chief of the American armies, was the influence of sea power upon the contest which he directed with so much skill and such infinite patience, and which, amidst countless trials and discouragements, he brought to a glorious close.
Such, in the view of the respected commander-in-chief of the American armies, was the impact of naval power on the struggle he skillfully directed with immense patience, and which, despite numerous challenges and setbacks, he brought to a triumphant conclusion.
It will be observed that the American cause was reduced to these straits, notwithstanding the great and admitted losses of British commerce by the cruisers of the allies and by American privateers. This fact, and the small results from the general war, dominated as it was by the idea of commerce-destroying, show strongly the secondary and indecisive effect of such a policy upon the great issues of war.
It can be seen that the American situation was limited to these difficulties, despite the significant and acknowledged losses to British trade caused by the allies' cruisers and American privateers. This reality, along with the minimal outcomes from the overall war—focused as it was on destroying commerce—clearly indicates the limited and inconclusive impact of such a strategy on the major issues of the war.
FOOTNOTES:
[129] Martin: History of France.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Martin: History of France.
[131] Most accounts say between Goat Island and Canonicut; but the position given seems more probable. The names "Goat" and "Gould" (often written "Gold") are easily confused. Since writing the above, the author has been favored with the sight of a contemporary manuscript map obtained in Paris, which shows the anchorage as near Canonicut and abreast Coaster's Harbor Island; the latter being marked "L'Isle d'Or ou Golde Isle." The sketch, while accurate in its main details, seems the more authentic from its mistakes being such as a foreigner, during a hurried and exciting stay of twenty-four hours, might readily make.
[131] Most accounts say it's between Goat Island and Canonicut; however, the location provided seems more likely. The names "Goat" and "Gould" (often spelled "Gold") are easily mistaken for each other. Since writing the above, the author has had the opportunity to see a contemporary manuscript map obtained in Paris, which shows the anchorage as being near Canonicut and in line with Coaster's Harbor Island; the latter is labeled "L'Isle d'Or ou Golde Isle." The sketch, while accurate in its main points, seems more authentic because its errors are the kind that a foreigner could easily make during a rushed and thrilling twenty-four-hour visit.
[132] "The arrival of the French fleet upon the coast of America is a great and striking event; but the operations of it have been injured by a number of unforeseen and unfavorable circumstances, which, though they ought not to detract from the merit and good intention of our great ally, have nevertheless lessened the importance of its services in a great degree. The length of the passage, in the first instance, was a capital misfortune; for had even one of common length taken place, Lord Howe, with the British ships-of-war and all the transports in the river Delaware, must inevitably have fallen; and Sir Henry Clinton must have had better luck than is commonly dispensed to men of his profession under such circumstances, if he and his troops had not shared at least the fate of Burgoyne. The long passage of Count d'Estaing was succeeded by an unfavorable discovery at the Hook, which hurt us in two respects,—first, in a defeat of the enterprise upon New York and the shipping and troops at that place, and next in the delay occasioned in ascertaining the depth of water over the bar which was essential to their entrance into the harbor of New York. And, moreover, after the enterprise upon Rhode Island had been planned and was in the moment of execution, that Lord Howe with the British ships should interpose merely to create a diversion and draw the French fleet from the island was again unlucky, as the Count had not returned on the 17th to the island, though drawn off from it on the 10th; by which means the land operations were retarded, and the whole subjected to a miscarriage in case of the arrival of Byron's squadron."—Washington's Letter, Aug. 20, 1778.
[132] "The arrival of the French fleet on the coast of America is a significant and notable event; however, its effectiveness has been affected by a number of unexpected and unfavorable circumstances, which, although they shouldn't diminish the merit and good intentions of our great ally, have nonetheless reduced the importance of their contributions considerably. The length of the journey, in the first place, was a major setback; because if even a journey of ordinary length had occurred, Lord Howe, along with the British warships and all the transports in the Delaware River, would undoubtedly have been defeated; and Sir Henry Clinton would have had to rely on an unusual stroke of luck to avoid suffering at least the same fate as Burgoyne. The prolonged journey of Count d'Estaing was followed by an unfortunate discovery at the Hook, which hurt us in two ways—first, by defeating the plan against New York and the ships and troops there, and second, by delaying the assessment of the water depth over the bar that was crucial for their entry into New York harbor. Moreover, after the plan for Rhode Island was set and ready to go, it was unfortunate that Lord Howe with the British ships intervened just to create a diversion and draw the French fleet away from the island; the Count had not returned to the island by the 17th, having been drawn away on the 10th, which delayed the land operations and risked failure if Byron's squadron arrived."—Washington's Letter, Aug. 20, 1778.
[135] Of one of these, the "Monmouth," sixty-four (a’), it is said that the officers of the French flag-ship drank to the health of the captain of the "little black ship." Ships' names, like those of families, often have a marked career. A former "Monmouth," twenty years before, had attacked and taken, practically single-handed, the "Foudroyant," eighty-four, one of the finest ships in the French navy. She was then commanded by a Captain Gardiner, who, having commanded Byng's ship in the battle which led to his execution, was moved by his mortification at the result of that affair to dare such desperate odds, and thereby lost his life. The same ship, here punished so severely off Grenada, will be found in like sturdy fight, under another captain, three years later in India.
[135] One of these, the "Monmouth," sixty-four (a’), is reported to have had the officers of the French flagship toast to the captain of the "little black ship." Ship names, like family names, often have a notable history. A previous "Monmouth," twenty years earlier, had bravely attacked and captured the "Foudroyant," eighty-four, one of the best ships in the French navy, almost by herself. At that time, she was led by Captain Gardiner, who, after having commanded Byng's ship in the battle that resulted in Byng's execution, was so distressed by the outcome that he took on such dangerous odds, ultimately losing his life. The same ship, now facing severe punishment near Grenada, would be found in a similarly fierce battle under a different captain three years later in India.
[136] The line BC shows the final direction of the French line-of-battle; the lee ship (o) having tacked and standing to o’, while the other ships took position in her wake. Though not expressly stated, Byron doubtless formed in the same way on a parallel line. Into this new line the disabled ships (c’), which could scarcely have made good the course they were heading, would be easily received.
[136] The line BC indicates the final direction of the French battle line; the leeward ship (o) has tacked and is heading to o', while the other ships are positioning themselves in her wake. Although it’s not explicitly mentioned, Byron likely aligned himself in a similar way on a parallel line. The disabled ships (c'), which could hardly have made it on their current course, would be easily incorporated into this new line.
[138] Guérin: Hist. Maritime.
[139] Drinkwater, in his history of the siege of Gibraltar, explains that the Spanish admiral believed that Rodney would not accompany the convoy to the Straits, but had separated from it. He did not detect his mistake until too late.
[139] Drinkwater, in his history of the siege of Gibraltar, explains that the Spanish admiral thought Rodney wouldn't follow the convoy to the Straits, but had actually split from it. He didn’t realize his error until it was too late.
[141] The black ships, in position A, represent the English ships bearing down upon the French centre and rear. The line v r is the line-of-battle from van to rear before bearing down. The positions v’, r’, are those of the van and rear ships after hauling up on the port tack, when the French wore.
[141] The black ships, in position A, represent the English ships advancing on the French center and rear. The line vr is the battle line from front to back before the attack. The positions v’, r’, are those of the front and rear ships after turning to the left tack, when the French maneuvered.
[142] In a severe reprimand addressed to Captain Carkett, commanding the leading ship of the English line, by Rodney, he says: "Your leading in the manner you did, induced others to follow so bad an example; and thereby, forgetting that the signal for the line was at only two cables' length distance from each other, the van division was led by you to more than two leagues distance from the centre division, which was thereby exposed to the greatest strength of the enemy and not properly supported" (Life, vol. i. p. 351). By all rules of tactical common-sense it would seem that the other ships should have taken their distance from their next astern, that is, should have closed toward the centre. In conversation with Sir Gilbert Blane, who was not in this action, Rodney stated that the French line extended four leagues in length, "as if De Guichen thought we meant to run away from him" (Naval Chronicle, vol. xxv. p. 402).
[142] In a strict reprimand to Captain Carkett, who was in charge of the lead ship of the English fleet, Rodney said: "Your leadership in that way encouraged others to follow such a poor example; and as a result, forgetting that the signal for the line was only two cables' length apart, you led the van division to more than two leagues distance from the center division, which left it vulnerable to the enemy's strongest forces and without proper support" (Life, vol. i. p. 351). By all common-sense tactical rules, it seems the other ships should have maintained their distance from the ship behind them, meaning they should have moved closer to the center. In a discussion with Sir Gilbert Blane, who wasn’t in this battle, Rodney mentioned that the French line extended four leagues long, "as if De Guichen thought we planned to escape from him" (Naval Chronicle, vol. xxv. p. 402).
[143] History of the American Revolution.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ History of the American Revolution.
[147] That the French government was not satisfied with M. Destouches's action can be safely inferred from its delay to reward the officers of the squadron, which called forth much feeling and very lively remonstrances. The French asserted that Arbuthnot was hooted in the streets of New York and recalled by his government. The latter is a mistake, as he went home by his own request; but the former is likely enough. Both commanders reversed in this case the usual naval policy of their nations.
[147] It's clear that the French government was unhappy with M. Destouches's actions, as seen by their delay in rewarding the squadron's officers, which led to a lot of feelings and strong protests. The French claimed that Arbuthnot was booed in the streets of New York and recalled by his government. The second part is incorrect, as he returned home at his own request; however, the first part is quite possible. In this situation, both commanders deviated from their countries' usual naval policies.
[150] De Barras had been unwilling to go to the Chesapeake, fearing to be intercepted by a superior force, and had only yielded to the solicitation of Washington and Rochambeau.
[150] De Barras was hesitant to go to the Chesapeake, worried about being intercepted by a stronger force, and had only agreed after being persuaded by Washington and Rochambeau.
[152] White: Naval Researches.
[153] Bouclon: La Marine de Louis XVI., p. 281. Under a rather misleading title this work is really a lengthy biography of Liberge de Granchain, chief of staff to the French squadron under Ternay.
[153] Bouclon: La Marine de Louis XVI., p. 281. Despite its somewhat misleading title, this work is actually a detailed biography of Liberge de Granchain, the chief of staff for the French squadron under Ternay.
[154] Diary of a French officer, 1781; Magazine of American History for March, 1880. The works at the time of Rodney's visit to New York were doubtless less complete than in 1781. This authority, a year later, gives the work on Rose Island twenty 36-pounders.
[154] Diary of a French officer, 1781; Magazine of American History for March, 1880. The structures during Rodney's visit to New York were likely not as developed as they were in 1781. This source, a year later, states that the work on Rose Island had twenty 36-pound cannons.
[155] Sir Thomas Graves, afterward second in command to Nelson in the attack at Copenhagen in 1801,—an enterprise fully as desperate and encompassed with greater difficulties of pilotage than the one here advocated. See biographical memoir, Naval Chronicle, vol. viii.
[155] Sir Thomas Graves, who later served as Nelson's second-in-command during the attack on Copenhagen in 1801—a mission that was just as risky and faced even more challenging navigation issues than the one discussed here. See biographical memoir, Naval Chronicle, vol. viii.
CHAPTER XI.ToC
Maritime War in Europe, 1779-1782.
Maritime War in Europe, 1779-1782.
The last chapter closed with the opinions of Washington, expressed in many ways and at many times, as to the effect of sea power upon the struggle for American independence. If space allowed, these opinions could be amply strengthened by similar statements of Sir Henry Clinton, the English commander-in-chief.[157] In Europe the results turned yet more entirely upon the same factor. There the allies had three several objectives, at each of which England stood strictly upon the defensive. The first of these was England herself, involving, as a preliminary to an invasion, the destruction of the Channel fleet,—a project which, if seriously entertained, can scarcely be said to have been seriously attempted; the second was the reduction of Gibraltar; the third, the capture of Minorca. The last alone met with success. Thrice was England threatened by a largely superior fleet, thrice the threat fell harmless. Thrice was Gibraltar reduced to straits; thrice was it relieved by the address and fortune of English seamen, despite overpowering odds.
The last chapter ended with Washington's views, shared in various ways and at different times, about how naval power impacted the fight for American independence. If there were more space, these views could be further supported by similar comments from Sir Henry Clinton, the British commander-in-chief.[157] In Europe, the outcomes also hinged on this same factor. There, the allies had three main goals, each of which forced England to defend itself. The first was England itself, which meant that before any invasion could happen, the Channel fleet needed to be destroyed — a plan that, if taken seriously, was hardly attempted. The second goal was taking Gibraltar, and the third was seizing Minorca. Only the last goal was achieved. England was threatened three times by a much larger fleet, and each time the threat proved ineffective. Gibraltar was put in a tough spot three times; each time it was saved by the skill and luck of English sailors, despite being outnumbered.
After Keppel's action off Ushant, no general encounter took place between fleets in European seas during the year 1778 and the first half of 1779. Meantime Spain was drawing toward a rupture with England and an active alliance with France. War was declared by her on the 16th of June, 1779; but as early as April 12, a treaty between the two Bourbon kingdoms, involving active war upon England, had been signed. By its terms the invasion of Great Britain or Ireland was to be undertaken, every effort made to recover [402]for Spain, Minorca, Pensacola, and Mobile, and the two courts bound themselves to grant neither peace, nor truce, nor suspension of hostilities, until Gibraltar should be restored.[158]
After Keppel's action off Ushant, there were no major clashes between fleets in European waters during 1778 and the first half of 1779. Meanwhile, Spain was moving closer to a break with England and forming a partnership with France. War was declared on June 16, 1779; however, as early as April 12, a treaty between the two Bourbon nations, which involved active military actions against England, had been signed. According to the treaty, the invasion of Great Britain or Ireland was to be carried out, every effort was to be made to reclaim for Spain Minorca, Pensacola, and Mobile, and both countries agreed to neither peace, truce, nor ceasefire until Gibraltar was returned.[402][158]
The declaration of war was withheld until ready to strike; but the English government, doubtless, should have been upon its guard in the strained relations of the two countries, and prepared to prevent a junction of the two fleets. As it was, no efficient blockade of Brest was established, and twenty-eight French sail-of-the-line went out unopposed[159] June 3, 1779, under D'Orvilliers, Keppel's opponent of the year before. The fleet steered for the coasts of Spain, where it was to find the Spanish ships; but it was not till the 22d of July that the full contingent joined. Seven precious summer weeks thus slipped by unimproved, but that was not all the loss; the French had been provisioned for only thirteen weeks, and this truly great armada of sixty-six ships-of-the-line and fourteen frigates had not more than forty working-days before it. Sickness, moreover, ravaged the fleet; and although it was fortunate enough to enter the Channel while the English were at sea, the latter, numbering little more than half their enemies, succeeded in passing within them. The flabbiness of coalitions increased the weakness due to inefficient preparation; a great and not unnatural panic on the English Channel coast, and the capture of one ship-of-the-line, were the sole results of a cruise extending, for the French, over fifteen weeks.[160] The disappointment, due to bad preparation, mainly [403]on the part of Spain, though the French ministry utterly failed to meet the pressing wants of its fleet, fell, of course, upon the innocent Admiral d'Orvilliers. That brave and accomplished but unfortunate officer, whose only son, a lieutenant, had died of the pestilence which scourged the allies, could not support the odium. Being of a deeply religious character, the refuge which Villeneuve after Trafalgar found in suicide was denied him; but he threw up his command and retired into a religious house.
The declaration of war was held back until the moment to attack; however, the English government should have been on alert given the tense relations between the two countries, ready to prevent a meeting of the two fleets. As it happened, no effective blockade of Brest was established, and twenty-eight French ships of the line set sail unchallenged on June 3, 1779, under D'Orvilliers, who had faced Keppel the year before. The fleet headed for the coasts of Spain to rendezvous with the Spanish ships, but it wasn't until July 22 that the full force joined. Seven valuable summer weeks went by unused, but that wasn't the only loss; the French were only provisioned for thirteen weeks, and this impressive armada of sixty-six ships of the line and fourteen frigates had no more than forty working days ahead of it. Illness also ravaged the fleet; and although it was lucky enough to enter the Channel while the English were at sea, the latter, numbering just over half the French, managed to get past them. The lack of solid coalitions worsened the weakness caused by poor preparation, leading to widespread panic along the English Channel coast and the capture of one ship of the line, which were the only outcomes of a cruise that lasted fifteen weeks for the French. The disappointment, largely due to Spain's poor preparations but also due to the French ministry's failure to meet the fleet's urgent needs, inevitably fell on the shoulders of the innocent Admiral d'Orvilliers. The brave and talented yet unfortunate officer, whose only son, a lieutenant, had died from the plague that afflicted the allies, could not bear the blame. Deeply religious, he could not seek refuge in suicide like Villeneuve did after Trafalgar; instead, he resigned his command and retreated to a religious house.
The scanty maritime interest of the year 1780, in Europe, centres round Cadiz and Gibraltar. This fortress was invested by Spain immediately upon the outbreak of war, and, while successfully resisting direct attack, the supply of provisions and ammunition was a matter of serious concern to England, and involved both difficulty and danger. For this purpose, Rodney sailed on the 29th of December, 1779, having under his command twenty ships-of-the-line with a large convoy and reinforcements for Gibraltar and Minorca, as well as the West India trade. The latter parted company on the 7th of January, under the care of four frigates, and the following morning the fleet fell in with and captured a Spanish squadron of seven ships-of-war and sixteen supply-ships. Twelve of the latter being laden with provisions were carried on to Gibraltar. A week later, at one P.M. of the 16th, a Spanish [404]fleet of eleven sail-of-the-line was seen in the southeast. They held their ground, supposing the approaching vessels to be only supply-ships for Gibraltar, without a strong force of men-of-war,—an unfortunate error from which they did not awake until too late to escape, owing to the yet more unfortunate oversight of having no lookout frigates thrown out. When the Spanish admiral, Don Juan de Langara, recognized his mistake, he attempted to escape; but the English ships were copper-bottomed, and Rodney making the signal for a general chase overtook the enemy, cut in between him and his port, regardless of a blowy night, lee shore, and dangerous shoals, and succeeded in capturing the commander-in-chief with six ships-of-the-line. A seventh was blown up. The weather continuing very tempestuous, one of the prizes was wrecked, and one forced into Cadiz; several of the English ships were also in great danger, but happily escaped, and within a few days the entire force entered Gibraltar Bay. The convoy for Minorca was at once despatched, and immediately after the return of the ships-of-war guarding it, on the 13th of February, Rodney sailed for the West Indies with four ships-of-the-line, sending the rest of his force, with the prizes, to England under Admiral Digby.
The limited maritime activity in Europe in 1780 focused on Cadiz and Gibraltar. Spain besieged the fortress right after the war began, and although it successfully resisted direct attacks, ensuring a supply of food and ammunition was a major concern for England, posing both challenges and risks. To address this, Rodney set sail on December 29, 1779, commanding twenty ships of the line along with a large convoy and reinforcements for Gibraltar and Minorca, as well as for the West India trade. The convoy separated on January 7, escorted by four frigates, and the next morning, the fleet encountered and captured a Spanish squadron consisting of seven warships and sixteen supply ships. Twelve of those supply ships, filled with provisions, were taken to Gibraltar. A week later, around 1 PM on the 16th, a Spanish fleet of eleven ships of the line was spotted in the southeast. They remained in position, mistakenly thinking the approaching vessels were just supply ships for Gibraltar without a strong naval force, a costly error they realized too late to escape, partly because they failed to send out lookout frigates. Once Spanish Admiral Don Juan de Langara recognized his mistake, he tried to flee, but the English ships had copper bottoms. Rodney signaled for a general chase, caught up with the enemy, and cut between them and their port, despite rough weather, perilous shores, and dangerous reefs, successfully capturing the commander-in-chief along with six ships of the line. A seventh was blown up. With continued fierce weather, one of the captured ships was wrecked, and one was forced into Cadiz; several English ships were also in serious danger but luckily managed to escape, and within a few days, the entire fleet entered Gibraltar Bay. The convoy for Minorca was immediately sent off, and right after the return of the warships escorting it, on February 13, Rodney set sail for the West Indies with four ships of the line, sending the rest of his force, along with the prizes, to England under Admiral Digby.
The state of politics and parties in England at this time was such that, combined with the unavoidable inferiority of the Channel fleet, it was difficult to find an admiral willing to accept the chief command. An admirable officer, Barrington, the captor of Sta. Lucia, refused the first place, though willing to serve as second, even to a junior.[161] The allied fleet, to the number of thirty-six sail-of-the-line, assembled at Cadiz. Their cruises, however, were confined to the Portuguese coast; and their only service, a most important one, was the capture of an entire convoy, largely laden with military stores, for the East and West Indies. The entrance of sixty English prizes, with nearly three thousand prisoners, into Cadiz, was a source of great rejoicing to Spain. On the [405]24th of October, De Guichen, returning from his contest with Rodney, came into the same port with his West Indian squadron, of nineteen ships-of-the-line; but the immense armament thus assembled did nothing. The French ships returned to Brest in January, 1781.
The political situation and parties in England at this time, along with the inevitable weakness of the Channel fleet, made it hard to find an admiral who would take on the top job. An excellent officer, Barrington, who captured Sta. Lucia, turned down the top position but was willing to serve as the second-in-command, even under someone less experienced.[161] The allied fleet, consisting of thirty-six ships-of-the-line, gathered at Cadiz. However, their operations were limited to the Portuguese coast, and their only significant action was the capture of an entire convoy filled with military supplies for the East and West Indies. The arrival of sixty English prizes, along with nearly three thousand prisoners, in Cadiz was a huge celebration for Spain. On the [405]24th of October, De Guichen returned from his battle with Rodney and entered the same port with his West Indian squadron of nineteen ships-of-the-line; however, the massive fleet that had gathered accomplished nothing. The French ships returned to Brest in January 1781.
While thus unproductive of military results in Europe, the war in 1780 gave rise to an event which cannot wholly be passed over by any history of sea power. This was the Armed Neutrality, at the head of which stood Russia, joined by Sweden and Denmark. The claim of England to seize enemy's goods in neutral ships bore hard upon neutral powers, and especially upon those of the Baltic and upon Holland, into whose hands, and those of the Austrian Netherlands, the war had thrown much of the European carrying-trade; while the products of the Baltic, naval stores and grain, were those which England was particularly interested in forbidding to her enemies. The declarations finally put forth by Russia, and signed by Sweden and Denmark, were four in number:
While not yielding military outcomes in Europe, the war in 1780 led to an important event that any history of sea power must acknowledge. This was the Armed Neutrality, led by Russia and joined by Sweden and Denmark. England's assertion that it could confiscate enemy goods on neutral ships heavily impacted neutral nations, particularly those in the Baltic and Holland, where a significant portion of European trade had shifted due to the war. The products from the Baltic, including naval supplies and grain, were particularly crucial for England to deny to its enemies. Russia eventually issued four declarations, which were also signed by Sweden and Denmark:
1. That neutral vessels had a right, not only to sail to unblockaded ports, but also from port to port of a belligerent nation; in other words, to maintain the coasting trade of a belligerent.
1. Neutral vessels had the right not only to sail to ports that weren't blockaded but also to travel from port to port within a belligerent nation; in other words, they could engage in the coastal trade of a belligerent.
2. That property belonging to the subjects of a power at war should be safe on board neutral vessels. This was the principle involved in the now familiar maxim, "Free ships make free goods."
2. Property owned by people from a country at war should be protected when it's on neutral ships. This is the principle behind the well-known saying, "Free ships make free goods."
3. That no articles are contraband, except arms, equipments, and munitions of war. This ruled out naval stores and provisions unless belonging to the government of a belligerent.
3. That no items are banned, except for weapons, equipment, and military supplies. This excluded naval supplies and provisions unless they belonged to the government of a warring party.
4. That blockades, to be binding, must have an adequate naval force stationed in close proximity to the blockaded port.
4. For blockades to be effective, there needs to be a sufficient naval force positioned nearby the blockaded port.
The contracting parties being neutral in the present war, but binding themselves to support these principles by a combined armed fleet of a fixed minimum number, the agreement received the name of the Armed Neutrality. The discussion of the propriety of the various declarations belongs to [406]International law; but it is evident that no great maritime State, situated as England then was, would submit to the first and third as a matter of right. Policy only could induce her to do so. Without meeting the declarations by a direct contradiction, the ministry and the king determined to disregard them,—a course which was sustained in principle even by prominent members of the bitter opposition of that day. The undecided attitude of the United Provinces, divided as in the days of Louis XIV. between the partisans of England and France, despite a century of alliance with the former, drew the especial attention of Great Britain. They had been asked to join the Armed Neutrality; they hesitated, but the majority of the provinces favored it. A British officer had already gone so far as to fire upon a Dutch man-of-war which had resisted the search of merchant-ships under its convoy; an act which, whether right or wrong, tended to incense the Dutch generally against England. It was determined by the latter that if the United Provinces acceded to the coalition of neutrals, war should be declared. On the 16th of December, 1780, the English ministry was informed that the States-General had resolved to sign the declarations of the Armed Neutrality without delay. Orders were at once sent out to Rodney to seize the Dutch West India and South American possessions; similar orders to the East Indies; and the ambassador at the Hague was recalled. England declared war four days later. The principal effect, therefore, of the Armed Neutrality upon the war was to add the colonies and commerce of Holland to the prey of English cruisers. The additional enemy was of small account to Great Britain, whose geographical position effectually blocked the junction of the Dutch fleet with those of her other enemies. The possessions of Holland fell everywhere, except when saved by the French; while a bloody but wholly uninstructive battle between English and Dutch squadrons in the North Sea, in August, 1781, was the only feat of arms illustrative of the old Dutch courage and obstinacy.
The countries involved were neutral in the current war, but they committed to supporting these principles with a combined armed fleet of a set minimum size, leading to the agreement being called Armed Neutrality. The discussion of the legitimacy of the various declarations falls under [406]International law; however, it’s clear that no major maritime power, like England was at that time, would accept the first and third declarations as a right. Only political motives could persuade her to comply. Instead of outright contradicting the declarations, the government and the king decided to ignore them—a decision that was supported in principle by even leading members of the strong opposition at that time. The indecisive stance of the United Provinces, torn between the supporters of England and France, despite a century of alliance with the former, attracted significant attention from Great Britain. They had been invited to join the Armed Neutrality; they hesitated, but most of the provinces leaned toward it. A British officer had even gone as far as to fire on a Dutch warship that resisted the search of merchant ships under its escort; an action that, whether right or wrong, stirred general Dutch resentment toward England. It was decided that if the United Provinces joined the coalition of neutrals, war would be declared. On December 16, 1780, the English government was informed that the States-General had decided to sign the declarations of the Armed Neutrality immediately. Orders were quickly sent to Rodney to seize Dutch possessions in the West Indies and South America; similar commands went to the East Indies, and the ambassador in The Hague was recalled. England declared war four days later. Thus, the main impact of the Armed Neutrality on the war was to bring Dutch colonies and trade under the control of English cruisers. The addition of this enemy was of little concern to Great Britain, whose geographic position effectively blocked any alliance between the Dutch fleet and her other adversaries. Dutch possessions were lost everywhere, except when saved by the French; while a bloody but ultimately inconclusive battle between English and Dutch fleets in the North Sea in August 1781 was the only demonstration of the old Dutch courage and stubbornness.
The year 1781, decisive of the question of the independence [407]of the United States, was marked in the European seas by imposing movements of great fleets followed by puny results. At the end of March De Grasse sailed from Brest with twenty-six ships-of-the-line. On the 29th he detached five under Suffren to the East Indies, and himself continued on to meet success at Yorktown and disaster in the West Indies. On the 23d of June De Guichen sailed from Brest with eighteen ships-of-the-line for Cadiz, where he joined thirty Spanish ships. This immense armament sailed on the 22d of July for the Mediterranean, landed fourteen thousand troops at Minorca, and then moved upon the English Channel.
The year 1781, crucial for the independence of the United States, saw significant movements of large fleets in European waters, but led to minor outcomes. At the end of March, De Grasse left Brest with twenty-six ships-of-the-line. On the 29th, he sent five ships under Suffren to the East Indies, while he continued on to achieve success at Yorktown and face failure in the West Indies. On June 23rd, De Guichen departed from Brest with eighteen ships-of-the-line bound for Cadiz, where he joined thirty Spanish ships. This massive fleet set sail on July 22nd for the Mediterranean, landing fourteen thousand troops at Minorca before heading towards the English Channel.
The English had this year first to provide against the danger to Gibraltar. That beset fortress had had no supplies since Rodney's visit, in January of the year before, and was now in sore want, the provisions being scanty and bad, the biscuits weevilly, and the meat tainted. Amid the horrors and uproar of one of the longest and most exciting sieges of history, the sufferings of the combatants were intensified by the presence of many peaceful inhabitants, including the wives and families of soldiers as well as of officers. A great fleet of twenty-eight ships-of-the-line sailed from Portsmouth on the 13th of March, convoying three hundred merchant-ships for the East and West Indies, besides ninety-seven transports and supply-ships for the Rock. A delay on the Irish coast prevented its falling in with De Grasse, who had sailed nine days after it. Arriving off Cape St. Vincent, it met no enemy, and looking into Cadiz saw the great Spanish fleet at anchor. The latter made no move, and the English admiral, Derby, threw his supplies into Gibraltar on the 12th of April, undisturbed. At the same time he, like De Grasse, detached to the East Indies a small squadron, which was destined before long to fall in with Suffren. The inaction of the Spanish fleet, considering the eagerness of its government about Gibraltar and its equal if not superior numbers, shows scanty reliance of the Spanish admiral upon himself or his command. Derby, having relieved Gibraltar and Minorca, returned to the Channel in May.
The English had to address the threat to Gibraltar this year. That besieged fortress had not received supplies since Rodney's visit in January of the previous year and was now in dire need, with provisions being limited and poor quality, the biscuits infested with weevils, and the meat spoiled. Amid the chaos and horrors of one of the longest and most intense sieges in history, the struggles of the combatants were worsened by the presence of many civilians, including the wives and families of soldiers and officers. A large fleet of twenty-eight ships of the line left Portsmouth on March 13th, escorting three hundred merchant ships bound for the East and West Indies, along with ninety-seven transports and supply ships for the Rock. A delay on the Irish coast prevented it from encountering De Grasse, who had set sail nine days later. Upon reaching Cape St. Vincent, it found no enemies, and when it looked into Cadiz, it saw the Spanish fleet anchored but inactive. The Spanish fleet made no move, allowing the English admiral, Derby, to deliver his supplies to Gibraltar unchallenged on April 12th. At the same time, like De Grasse, he sent a small squadron to the East Indies, which would soon come across Suffren. The inactivity of the Spanish fleet, given the urgency of its government regarding Gibraltar and its comparable if not greater numbers, reflects the Spanish admiral's lack of confidence in himself or his command. After relieving Gibraltar and Minorca, Derby returned to the Channel in May.
[408]Upon the approach of the combined fleet of nearly fifty sail in August following, Derby fell back upon Torbay and there anchored his fleet, numbering thirty ships. De Guichen, who held chief command, and whose caution when engaged with Rodney has been before remarked, was in favor of fighting; but the almost unanimous opposition of the Spaniards, backed by some of his own officers, overruled him in a council of war,[162] and again the great Bourbon coalition fell back, foiled by their own discord and the unity of their enemy. Gibraltar relieved, England untouched, were the results of these gigantic gatherings; they can scarcely be called efforts. A mortifying disaster closed the year for the allies. De Guichen sailed from Brest with seventeen sail, protecting a large convoy of merchantmen and ships with military supplies. The fleet was pursued by twelve English ships under Admiral Kempenfeldt, an officer whose high professional abilities have not earned the immortality with which poetry has graced his tragical death. Falling in with the French one hundred and fifty miles west of Ushant, he cut off a part of the convoy, despite his inferior numbers.[163] A few days later a tempest dispersed the French [409]fleet. Only two ships-of-the-line and five merchantmen out of one hundred and fifty reached the West Indies.
[408]As the combined fleet of nearly fifty ships approached in August, Derby retreated to Torbay and anchored his fleet, which consisted of thirty ships. De Guichen, who was in charge and known for his cautiousness when facing Rodney, supported the idea of fighting. However, nearly all the Spaniards, along with some of his own officers, opposed him in a council of war,[162] and once again the mighty Bourbon coalition fell back, defeated by their own discord and the unity of their enemy. Gibraltar was relieved, and England remained untouched, which were the outcomes of these massive gatherings; they can hardly be termed efforts. A humiliating disaster ended the year for the allies. De Guichen left Brest with seventeen ships, escorting a large convoy of merchant vessels and military supplies. The fleet was chased by twelve English ships led by Admiral Kempenfeldt, an officer whose impressive skills have not earned him the lasting fame that poetry has given to his tragic death. Encountering the French one hundred and fifty miles west of Ushant, he managed to cut off part of the convoy despite being outnumbered.[163] A few days later, a storm scattered the French [409]fleet. Only two ships-of-the-line and five merchant ships out of one hundred and fifty made it to the West Indies.
The year 1782 opened with the loss to the English of Port Mahon, which surrendered on the 5th of February, after a siege of six months.—a surrender induced by the ravages of scurvy, consequent upon the lack of vegetables, and confinement in the foul air of bombproofs and casemates, under the heavy fire of an enemy. On the last night of the defence the call for necessary guards was four hundred and fifteen, while only six hundred and sixty men were fit for duty, thus leaving no reliefs.
The year 1782 began with the English losing Port Mahon, which surrendered on February 5th after a six-month siege. This surrender was due to the devastation caused by scurvy from a lack of vegetables and being trapped in the unhealthy air of bombproofs and casemates, under constant heavy fire from the enemy. On the final night of defense, the call for essential guards was four hundred and fifteen, while only six hundred and sixty men were available for duty, leaving no one to take over.
The allied fleets assembled this year in Cadiz, to the number of forty ships-of-the-line. It was expected that this force would be increased by Dutch ships, but a squadron under Lord Howe drove the latter back to their ports. It does not certainly appear that any active enterprise was intended against the English coast; but the allies cruised off the mouth of the Channel and in the Bay of Biscay during the summer months. Their presence insured the safe arrival and departure of the homeward and outward bound merchantmen, and likewise threatened English commerce; notwithstanding which, Howe, with twenty-two ships, not only kept the sea and avoided an engagement, but also succeeded in bringing the Jamaica fleet safe into port. The injury to trade and to military transportation by sea may be said to have been about equal on either side; and the credit for successful use of sea power for these most important ends must therefore be given to the weaker party.
The allied fleets gathered this year in Cadiz, totaling forty ships-of-the-line. It was anticipated that this force would be boosted by Dutch ships, but a squadron led by Lord Howe drove them back to their ports. It’s not clear that any active plans were made against the English coast; however, the allies patrolled off the mouth of the Channel and in the Bay of Biscay during the summer months. Their presence ensured the safe arrival and departure of merchant ships traveling to and from home, while also posing a threat to English trade. Despite this, Howe, with twenty-two ships, not only maintained control of the seas and avoided engagement but also successfully brought the Jamaica fleet safely into port. The damage to trade and military transport at sea was roughly equal on both sides, so the credit for effectively using naval power for these crucial purposes must go to the weaker party.
Having carried out their orders for the summer cruise, the combined fleets returned to Cadiz. On the 10th of September they sailed thence for Algesiras, on the opposite side of the bay from Gibraltar, to support a grand combined attack by land and sea, which, it was hoped, would reduce to submission the key to the Mediterranean. With the ships already there, the total rose to nearly fifty ships-of-the-line. The details of the mighty onslaught scarcely belong to our subject, yet cannot be wholly passed by, [410]without at least such mention as may recognize and draw attention to their interest.
After completing their orders for the summer cruise, the combined fleets returned to Cadiz. On September 10th, they set sail for Algesiras, on the opposite side of the bay from Gibraltar, to support a major combined land and sea attack, which was expected to bring the key to the Mediterranean under control. With the ships already present, the total number reached nearly fifty ships of the line. The specifics of this powerful assault don't quite fit our topic, but they can't be completely overlooked, [410] so we should at least mention them to highlight their significance.
The three years' siege which was now drawing to its end had been productive of many brilliant feats of arms, as well as of less striking but more trying proofs of steadfast endurance, on the part of the garrison. How long the latter might have held out cannot be said, seeing the success with which the English sea power defied the efforts of the allies to cut off the communications of the fortress; but it was seemingly certain that the place must be subdued by main force or not at all, while the growing exhaustion of the belligerents foretold the near end of the war. Accordingly Spain multiplied her efforts of preparation and military ingenuity; while the report of them and of the approaching decisive contest drew to the scene volunteers and men of eminence from other countries of Europe. Two French Bourbon princes added, by their coming, to the theatrical interest with which the approaching drama was invested. The presence of royalty was needed adequately to grace the sublime catastrophe; for the sanguine confidence of the besiegers had determined a satisfactory dénouement with all the security of a playwright.
The three-year siege that was coming to an end had produced many impressive military feats, along with less flashy but more challenging demonstrations of the garrison's steadfastness. It's impossible to say how much longer they could have held out, especially since English naval power effectively thwarted the allies' attempts to cut off the fortress's communications. It seemed clear that the place could only be taken by brute force or not at all, while the growing fatigue of both sides hinted at the war's imminent conclusion. As a result, Spain increased its efforts in preparation and military strategy, and news of this, along with the coming decisive battle, attracted volunteers and notable figures from other European countries. The arrival of two French Bourbon princes added to the dramatic interest of this unfolding event. The presence of royalty was necessary to properly elevate the tragic climax; the besiegers were overly confident, having plotted a satisfactory outcome with all the certainty of a playwright.
Besides the works on the isthmus which joins the Rock to the mainland, where three hundred pieces of artillery were now mounted, the chief reliance of the assailants was upon ten floating batteries elaborately contrived to be shot and fire proof, and carrying one hundred and fifty-four heavy guns. These were to anchor in a close north-and-south line along the west face of the works, at about nine hundred yards distance. They were to be supported by forty gunboats and as many bomb vessels, besides the efforts of the ships-of-the-line to cover the attack and distract the garrison. Twelve thousand French troops were brought to reinforce the Spaniards in the grand assault, which was to be made when the bombardment had sufficiently injured and demoralized the defenders. At this time the latter numbered seven thousand, their land opponents thirty-three thousand men.
Besides the construction on the isthmus connecting the Rock to the mainland, where three hundred artillery pieces were set up, the main strategy of the attackers relied on ten floating batteries designed to be both bulletproof and fireproof, equipped with one hundred and fifty-four heavy guns. These batteries were set to anchor in a tight north-south line along the western side of the fortifications, about nine hundred yards away. They would be backed up by forty gunboats and just as many bomb vessels, along with support from battleships to cover the assault and distract the defenders. Twelve thousand French troops were brought in to reinforce the Spaniards for the major attack, which was planned to begin once the bombardment had significantly weakened and demoralized the defenders. At this point, the defenders numbered seven thousand, while their land adversaries totaled thirty-three thousand men.
[411]The final act was opened by the English. At seven o'clock on the morning of September 8, 1782, the commanding general, Elliott, began a severe and most injurious fire upon the works on the isthmus. Having effected his purpose, he stopped; but the enemy took up the glove the next morning, and for four days successively poured in a fire from the isthmus alone of six thousand five hundred cannon-balls and one thousand one hundred bombs every twenty-four hours. So approached the great closing scene of September 13. At seven A.M. of that day the ten battering-ships unmoored from the head of the bay and stood down to their station. Between nine and ten they anchored, and the general fire at once began. The besieged replied with equal fury. The battering-ships seem in the main, and for some hours, to have justified the hopes formed of them; cold shot glanced or failed to get through their sides, while the self-acting apparatus for extinguishing fires balked the hot shot.
[411]The final act was started by the English. At seven o'clock on the morning of September 8, 1782, General Elliott launched a heavy and damaging bombardment on the fortifications on the isthmus. After achieving his goal, he ceased fire; however, the enemy retaliated the next morning and for the next four days continuously bombarded with a fire of six thousand five hundred cannonballs and one thousand one hundred bombs every twenty-four hours, coming solely from the isthmus. This set the stage for the dramatic conclusion on September 13. At seven AM that day, the ten battering ships unmoored from the head of the bay and moved to their positions. Between nine and ten, they anchored, and the general bombardment immediately commenced. The defenders responded with equal intensity. The battering ships appeared to live up to expectations for the most part, as cold shot bounced off or failed to penetrate their sides, while the automatic fire-fighting equipment successfully dealt with the hot shot.
About two o'clock, however, smoke was seen to issue from the ship of the commander-in-chief, and though controlled for some time, the fire continued to gain. The same misfortune befell others; by evening, the fire of the besieged gained a marked superiority, and by one o'clock in the morning the greater part of the battering-ships were in flames. Their distress was increased by the action of the naval officer commanding the English gunboats, who now took post upon the flank of the line and raked it effectually,—a service which the Spanish gunboats should have prevented. In the end, nine of the ten blew up at their anchors, with a loss estimated at fifteen hundred men, four hundred being saved from the midst of the fire by the English seamen. The tenth ship was boarded and burned by the English boats. The hopes of the assailants perished with the failure of the battering-ships.
Around two o'clock, smoke was spotted coming from the flagship, and although it was controlled for a while, the fire continued to spread. Others faced the same disaster; by evening, the fire from the besieged became significantly stronger, and by one o'clock in the morning, most of the battering ships were ablaze. Their situation worsened due to the actions of the naval officer in command of the English gunboats, who positioned himself on the flank of the line and effectively targeted it—a task that the Spanish gunboats should have prevented. In the end, nine out of the ten ships exploded at their anchors, with an estimated loss of fifteen hundred men, and four hundred were rescued from the flames by English seamen. The tenth ship was boarded and set on fire by English boats. The attackers' hopes were dashed with the failure of the battering ships.
There remained only the hope of starving out the garrison. To this end the allied fleets now gave themselves. It was known that Lord Howe was on his way out with a great fleet, numbering thirty-four ships-of-the-line, besides supply vessels. [412]On the 10th of October a violent westerly gale injured the combined ships, driving one ashore under the batteries of Gibraltar, where she was surrendered. The next day Howe's force came in sight, and the transports had a fine chance to make the anchorage, which, through carelessness, was missed by all but four. The rest, with the men-of-war, drove eastward into the Mediterranean. The allies followed on the 13th; but though thus placed between the port and the relieving force, and not encumbered, like the latter, with supply-ships, they yet contrived to let the transports, with scarcely an exception, slip in and anchor safely. Not only provisions and ammunition, but also bodies of troops carried by the ships-of-war, were landed without molestation. On the 19th the English fleet repassed the straits with an easterly wind, having within a week's time fulfilled its mission, and made Gibraltar safe for another year. The allied fleet followed, and on the 20th an action took place at long range, the allies to windward, but not pressing their attack close. The number of ships engaged in this magnificent spectacle, the closing scene of the great drama in Europe, the after-piece to the successful defence of Gibraltar, was eighty-three of the line,—forty-nine allies and thirty-four English. Of the former, thirty-three only got into action; but as the duller sailers would have come up to a general engagement, Lord Howe was probably right in declining, so far as in him lay, a trial which the allies did not too eagerly court.
There was only the hope of starving out the garrison left. To achieve this, the allied fleets dedicated themselves. It was known that Lord Howe was heading out with a massive fleet, consisting of thirty-four ships of the line, in addition to supply vessels. [412] On October 10th, a severe westerly gale damaged the combined ships, driving one ashore under the batteries of Gibraltar, where it was surrendered. The next day, Howe's force came into view, giving the transports a great opportunity to anchor, which, due to negligence, was missed by all but four. The others, along with the men-of-war, were pushed eastward into the Mediterranean. The allies pursued on the 13th; however, even though they were positioned between the port and the relieving force, and not burdened, like the latter, with supply ships, they still managed to let nearly all the transports slip in and anchor safely. Not only provisions and ammunition, but also troops carried by the warships, were landed without interference. On the 19th, the English fleet crossed back through the straits with an easterly wind, having accomplished its mission within a week and secured Gibraltar for another year. The allied fleet followed, and on the 20th, a long-range engagement took place, with the allies to windward but not pushing their attack closely. The number of ships involved in this impressive spectacle, the concluding act of the great drama in Europe, the aftermath of the successful defense of Gibraltar, was eighty-three of the line—forty-nine allies and thirty-four English. Of the allies, only thirty-three engaged in action; but since the slower ships would have arrived for a full confrontation, Lord Howe was likely correct in avoiding a battle that the allies did not seem eager to pursue.
Such were the results of this great contest in the European seas, marked on the part of the allies by efforts gigantic in size, but loose-jointed and flabby in execution. By England, so heavily overmatched in mere numbers, were shown firmness of purpose, high courage, and seamanship; but it can scarcely be said that the military conceptions of her councils, or the cabinet management of her sea forces, were worthy of the skill and devotion of her seamen. The odds against her were not so great—not nearly so great—as the formidable lists of guns and ships seemed to show; and while allowance must justly be made for early hesitations, the passing years [413]of indecision and inefficiency on the part of the allies should have betrayed to her their weakness. The reluctance of the French to risk their ships, so plainly shown by D'Estaing, De Grasse, and De Guichen, the sluggishness and inefficiency of the Spaniards, should have encouraged England to pursue her old policy, to strike at the organized forces of the enemy afloat. As a matter of fact, and probably from the necessities of the case, the opening of every campaign found the enemies separated,—the Spaniards in Cadiz, the French in Brest.[164] To blockade the latter in full force before they could get out, England should have strained every effort; thus she would have stopped at its head the main stream of the allied strength, and, by knowing exactly where this great body was, would have removed that uncertainty as to its action which fettered her own movements as soon as it had gained the freedom of the open sea. Before Brest she was interposed between the allies; by her lookouts she would have known the approach of the Spaniards long before the French could know it; she would have kept in her hands the power of bringing against each, singly, ships more numerous and individually more effective. A wind that was fair to bring on the Spaniards would have locked their allies in the port. The most glaring instances of failure on the part of England to do this were when De Grasse was permitted to get out unopposed in March, 1781; for an English fleet of superior force had sailed from Portsmouth nine days before him, but was delayed [414]by the admiralty on the Irish coast;[165] and again at the end of that year, when Kempenfeldt was sent to intercept De Guichen with an inferior force, while ships enough to change the odds were kept at home. Several of the ships which were to accompany Rodney to the West Indies were ready when Kempenfeldt sailed, yet they were not associated with an enterprise so nearly affecting the objects of Rodney's campaign. The two forces united would have made an end of De Guichen's seventeen ships and his invaluable convoy.
The results of this major battle in the European seas were marked by the allies' massive but poorly executed efforts. England, heavily outnumbered, showed determination, bravery, and skill at sea; however, it can't be said that the military strategies of its leaders or the management of its naval forces matched the expertise and dedication of its sailors. The disadvantages faced by England weren't as significant as the impressive totals of guns and ships suggested; while some early hesitations are understandable, the ongoing years of indecision and inefficiency from the allies should have revealed their weaknesses to England. The French, as demonstrated by D'Estaing, De Grasse, and De Guichen, were reluctant to put their ships at risk, and the slow response from the Spaniards should have encouraged England to stick to its traditional strategy of attacking the enemy's organized naval forces. In reality, and likely due to the circumstances, every campaign began with the enemies divided—the Spaniards in Cadiz, the French in Brest. England should have made every effort to blockade the French before they could set sail; this would have cut off the main source of allied strength right at the start and eliminated the uncertainty about their movements, which restricted England's actions once they had the freedom of the open sea. Positioned between the allies at Brest, England would have been aware of the Spaniards’ approach long before the French detected it, allowing them to effectively bring superior numbers and stronger ships against each faction separately. A favorable wind to pursue the Spaniards could have trapped their allies in port. Some clear failures by England to act in these situations occurred when De Grasse was allowed to leave unchallenged in March 1781; an English fleet with superior strength had departed from Portsmouth nine days earlier but was held back by the admiralty on the Irish coast; and again at the end of that year, when Kempenfeldt was sent to intercept De Guichen with a weaker force while enough ships to tip the balance were kept back at home. Several ships that were supposed to join Rodney in the West Indies were ready when Kempenfeldt set out, yet they weren’t involved in a mission so closely tied to Rodney's objectives. The two combined forces would have decisively dealt with De Guichen's seventeen ships and their valuable convoy.
Gibraltar was indeed a heavy weight upon the English operations, but the national instinct which clung to it was correct. The fault of the English policy was in attempting to hold so many other points of land, while neglecting, by rapidity of concentration, to fall upon any of the detachments of the allied fleets. The key of the situation was upon the ocean; a great victory there would have solved all the other points in dispute. But it was not possible to win a great victory while trying to maintain a show of force everywhere.[166]
Gibraltar was indeed a significant burden on English operations, but the national instinct to hold onto it was right. The problem with English policy was trying to control too many other areas while failing to quickly concentrate forces to attack any of the allied fleets' detachments. The key to the situation was at sea; a major victory there would have resolved all the other disputed points. However, it wasn’t possible to achieve a major victory while attempting to maintain a presence everywhere.[166]
North America was a yet heavier clog, and there undoubtedly the feeling of the nation was mistaken; pride, not wisdom, maintained that struggle. Whatever the sympathies of individuals and classes in the allied nations, by their governments American rebellion was valued only as a weakening of England's arm. The operations there depended, as has [415]been shown, upon the control of the sea; and to maintain that, large detachments of English ships were absorbed from the contest with France and Spain. Could a successful war have made America again what it once was, a warmly attached dependency of Great Britain, a firm base for her sea power, it would have been worth much greater sacrifices; but that had become impossible. But although she had lost, by her own mistakes, the affection of the colonists, which would have supported and secured her hold upon their ports and sea-coast, there nevertheless remained to the mother-country, in Halifax, Bermuda, and the West Indies, enough strong military stations, inferior, as naval bases, only to those strong ports which are surrounded by a friendly country, great in its resources and population. The abandonment of the contest in North America would have strengthened England very much more than the allies. As it was, her large naval detachments there were always liable to be overpowered by a sudden move of the enemy from the sea, as happened in 1778 and 1781.
North America was an even bigger burden, and there were definitely some misunderstandings about how the nation felt; it was pride, not wisdom, that kept that conflict going. Regardless of the sympathies of people and groups in the allied nations, their governments saw the American rebellion only as a way to weaken England. The success of their military efforts there relied, as has [415] been shown, on controlling the sea; and to maintain that control, many English ships were pulled from the fight against France and Spain. If a successful war could have made America once again a devoted dependency of Great Britain, a solid foundation for her naval power, it would have been worth much greater sacrifices; but that was no longer possible. Although she had lost the colonists' affection due to her own mistakes, which would have helped her keep control of their ports and coastline, she still had enough strong military bases in Halifax, Bermuda, and the West Indies, which were only inferior as naval bases to those strong ports surrounded by friendly territories with abundant resources and population. Giving up the fight in North America would have benefitted England way more than her allies. As it stood, her large naval forces there were always at risk of being overwhelmed by a sudden attack from the enemy at sea, as occurred in 1778 and 1781.
To the abandonment of America as hopelessly lost, because no military subjection could have brought back the old loyalty, should have been added the giving up, for the time, all military occupancy which fettered concentration, while not adding to military strength. Most of the Antilles fell under this head, and the ultimate possession of them would depend upon the naval campaign. Garrisons could have been spared for Barbadoes and Sta. Lucia, for Gibraltar and perhaps for Mahon, that could have effectually maintained them until the empire of the seas was decided; and to them could have been added one or two vital positions in America, like New York and Charleston, to be held only till guarantees were given for such treatment of the loyalists among the inhabitants as good faith required England to exact.
To the abandonment of America as hopelessly lost, because no military control could have restored the old loyalty, should have been added the temporary giving up of all military presence that restricted focus without increasing military strength. Most of the Antilles fell into this category, and the ultimate control of them would depend on the naval campaign. Troops could have been saved for Barbados and St. Lucia, for Gibraltar and possibly Mahón, which could have effectively held them until the dominance of the seas was determined; and this could have been supplemented with one or two key locations in America, like New York and Charleston, to be held only until assurances were given for the treatment of the loyalists among the population that good faith required England to ensure.
Having thus stripped herself of every weight, rapid concentration with offensive purpose should have followed. Sixty ships-of-the-line on the coast of Europe, half before Cadiz and half before Brest, with a reserve at home to replace [416]injured ships, would not have exhausted by a great deal the roll of the English navy; and that such fleets would not have had to fight, may not only be said by us, who have the whole history before us, but might have been inferred by those who had watched the tactics of D'Estaing and De Guichen, and later on of De Grasse. Or, had even so much dispersal been thought unadvisable, forty ships before Brest would have left the sea open to the Spanish fleet to try conclusions with the rest of the English navy when the question of controlling Gibraltar and Mahon came up for decision. Knowing what we do of the efficiency of the two services, there can be little question of the result; and Gibraltar, instead of a weight, would, as often before and since those days, have been an element of strength to Great Britain.
Having removed all obstacles, focused action with a clear offensive aim should have followed. Sixty battleships along the coast of Europe, half near Cadiz and half near Brest, with a reserve at home to replace [416]damaged ships, wouldn't have significantly depleted the strength of the English navy; and it’s clear from history and the strategies of D'Estaing, De Guichen, and later De Grasse that these fleets wouldn't have had to engage in battle. Alternatively, if that much deployment seemed unwise, having forty ships at Brest would have allowed the Spanish fleet to confront the rest of the English navy when deciding the control of Gibraltar and Mahon. Considering the capabilities of both navies, we can be fairly confident in the outcome; Gibraltar, rather than being a burden, would have been a source of strength for Great Britain, as it often was before and after those times.
The conclusion continually recurs. Whatever may be the determining factors in strifes between neighboring continental States, when a question arises of control over distant regions, politically weak,—whether they be crumbling empires, anarchical republics, colonies, isolated military posts, or islands below a certain size,—it must ultimately be decided by naval power, by the organized military force afloat, which represents the communications that form so prominent a feature in all strategy. The magnificent defence of Gibraltar hinged upon this; upon this depended the military results of the war in America; upon this the final fate of the West India Islands; upon this certainly the possession of India. Upon this will depend the control of the Central American Isthmus, if that question take a military coloring; and though modified by the continental position and surroundings of Turkey, the same sea power must be a weighty factor in shaping the outcome of the Eastern Question in Europe.
The conclusion keeps coming back. No matter what the key factors are in conflicts between neighboring continental countries, when it comes to controlling distant regions that are politically weak—whether they are failing empires, chaotic republics, colonies, isolated military outposts, or small islands—it ultimately comes down to naval power. This organized military force at sea represents the communications that are a critical part of any strategy. The impressive defense of Gibraltar depended on this; the military outcomes of the war in America relied on this; the fate of the West Indies was tied to this; and certainly, the possession of India was at stake because of it. The control of the Central American Isthmus will depend on this if it takes on a military aspect; and although it is affected by Turkey's continental position and its surroundings, the same naval power will be an important factor in determining the outcome of the Eastern Question in Europe.
If this be true, military wisdom and economy, both of time and money, dictate bringing matters to an issue as soon as possible upon the broad sea, with the certainty that the power which achieves military preponderance there will win in the end. In the war of the American Revolution the numerical preponderance was very great against England; the [417]actual odds were less, though still against her. Military considerations would have ordered the abandonment of the colonies; but if the national pride could not stoop to this, the right course was to blockade the hostile arsenals. If not strong enough to be in superior force before both, that of the more powerful nation should have been closed. Here was the first fault of the English admiralty; the statement of the First Lord as to the available force at the outbreak of the war was not borne out by facts. The first fleet, under Keppel, barely equalled the French; and at the same time Howe's force in America was inferior to the fleet under D'Estaing. In 1779 and 1781, on the contrary, the English fleet was superior to that of the French alone; yet the allies joined unopposed, while in the latter year De Grasse got away to the West Indies, and Suffren to the East. In Kempenfeldt's affair with De Guichen, the admiralty knew that the French convoy was of the utmost importance to the campaign in the West Indies, yet they sent out their admiral with only twelve ships; while at that time, besides the reinforcement destined for the West Indies, a number of others were stationed in the Downs, for what Fox justly called "the paltry purpose" of distressing the Dutch trade. The various charges made by Fox in the speech quoted from, and which, as regarded the Franco-Spanish War, were founded mainly on the expediency of attacking the allies before they got away into the ocean wilderness, were supported by the high professional opinion of Lord Howe, who of the Kempenfeldt affair said: "Not only the fate of the West India Islands, but perhaps the whole future fortune of the war, might have been decided, almost without a risk, in the Bay of Biscay."[167] Not without a risk, but with strong probabilities of success, the whole fortune of the war should at the first have been staked on a concentration of the English fleet between Brest and Cadiz. No relief for Gibraltar would have been more efficacious; no diversion surer for the West India Islands; and the Americans would have appealed in vain for the help, scantily given [418]as it was, of the French fleet. For the great results that flowed from the coming of De Grasse must not obscure the fact that he came on the 31st of August, and announced from the beginning that he must be in the West Indies again by the middle of October. Only a providential combination of circumstances prevented a repetition to Washington, in 1781, of the painful disappointments by D'Estaing and De Guichen in 1778 and 1780.
If this is true, military strategy and the wise use of time and money suggest that we should resolve matters on the open sea as quickly as possible, with the understanding that whoever gains military superiority there will ultimately prevail. During the American Revolution, the numerical advantage was significantly against England; the actual odds were less, but still unfavorable for her. Military advice would have recommended abandoning the colonies; however, if national pride wouldn't allow for that, the correct approach would have been to block off the enemy's supply points. If the English forces weren't strong enough to dominate both areas, they should have focused on shutting down the supply lines of the more powerful nation. This was the first mistake of the English admiralty; the First Lord's claims about the available forces at the start of the war were not supported by reality. The first fleet, led by Keppel, barely matched the French force; at the same time, Howe's forces in America were weaker than those of D'Estaing. In 1779 and 1781, on the other hand, the English fleet was stronger than the French alone; yet the allies operated without opposition, and in that later year, De Grasse sailed to the West Indies, while Suffren went east. In Kempenfeldt's encounter with De Guichen, the admiralty was aware that the French convoy was crucial to the campaign in the West Indies, yet they sent out their admiral with only twelve ships. Meanwhile, aside from the reinforcements heading for the West Indies, several other ships were stationed in the Downs, for what Fox rightly called "the trivial purpose" of harassing Dutch trade. The various accusations made by Fox in his quoted speech regarding the Franco-Spanish War were largely based on the need to attack the allies before they escaped into the ocean wilderness, and they were backed by the strong professional opinion of Lord Howe, who remarked about the Kempenfeldt affair: "Not only the fate of the West India Islands, but perhaps the entire future of the war, could have been decided, almost without risk, in the Bay of Biscay." Not without risk, but with a strong likelihood of success, the entire outcome of the war should have initially depended on concentrating the English fleet between Brest and Cadiz. No relief for Gibraltar would have been more effective; no stronger distraction for the West India Islands; and the Americans would have found their pleas for the limited assistance from the French fleet falling on deaf ears. The significant outcomes resulting from De Grasse's arrival should not overshadow the fact that he came on August 31 and stated from the outset that he needed to be back in the West Indies by mid-October. Only a fortunate combination of events prevented Washington, in 1781, from experiencing the same painful disappointments caused by D'Estaing and De Guichen in 1778 and 1780.
FOOTNOTES:
[159] Although the English thus culpably failed to use their superiority to the French alone, the Channel fleet numbering over forty of the line, the fear that it might prevent the junction caused the Brest fleet to sail in haste and undermanned,—a fact which had an important effect upon the issue of the cruise. (Chevalier, p. 159.)
[159] While the English irresponsibly didn't leverage their advantage over the French, the Channel fleet, which had more than forty ships in line, had the Brest fleet rushing to set sail, even though they were short-handed. This had a significant impact on the outcome of the cruise. (Chevalier, p. 159.)
[160] The details of the mismanagement of this huge mob of ships are so numerous as to confuse a narrative, and are therefore thrown into a foot-note. The French fleet was hurried to sea four thousand men short. The Spaniards were seven weeks in joining. When they met, no common system of signals had been arranged; five fair summer days were spent in remedying this defect. Not till a week after the junction could the fleet sail for England. No steps were taken to supply the provisions consumed by the French during the seven weeks. The original orders to D'Orvilliers contemplated a landing at Portsmouth, or the seizure of the Isle of Wight, for which a large army was assembled on the coast of Normandy. Upon reaching the Channel, these orders were suddenly changed, and Falmouth indicated as the point of landing. By this time, August 16, summer was nearly over; and Falmouth, if taken, would offer no shelter to a great fleet. Then an easterly gale drove the fleet out of the Channel. By this time the sickness which raged had so reduced the crews that many ships could be neither handled nor fought. Ships companies of eight hundred or a thousand men could muster only from three to five hundred. Thus bad administration crippled the fighting powers of the fleet; while the unaccountable military blunder of changing the objective from a safe and accessible roadstead to a fourth-rate and exposed harbor completed the disaster by taking away the only hope of a secure base of operations during the fall and winter months. France then had no first-class port on the Channel; hence the violent westerly gales which prevail in the autumn and winter would have driven the allies into the North Sea.
[160] The details of the mismanagement of this huge fleet of ships are so overwhelming that they confuse the story, so they’re included in a footnote. The French fleet set sail with four thousand fewer men than needed. The Spaniards took seven weeks to arrive. When they finally met, there was no agreed system of signals; they wasted five nice summer days fixing this issue. It wasn't until a week after their meeting that the fleet could head for England. No actions were taken to replenish the supplies that the French had consumed during the seven-week wait. The initial orders for D'Orvilliers were to either land at Portsmouth or seize the Isle of Wight, for which a large army had gathered on the coast of Normandy. Once they reached the Channel, the orders were abruptly changed, and Falmouth was indicated as the landing point. By then, on August 16, summer was almost over, and Falmouth, if captured, would provide no shelter for a large fleet. An easterly gale then forced the fleet out of the Channel. By this stage, the sickness that was rampant had severely reduced the crews, leaving many ships unable to be handled or fought. Crews that should have numbered eight hundred to a thousand could only rally three to five hundred. Thus, poor management weakened the fleet's fighting ability, while the inexplicable military error of shifting the focus from a safe and accessible anchorage to a low-quality and exposed harbor completed the disaster by removing any chance of a secure base of operations for the fall and winter. France had no first-class port on the Channel at that time; therefore, the strong westerly gales common in the autumn and winter would have pushed the allies into the North Sea.
[162] Beatson gives quite at length (vol. v. p. 395) the debate in the allied council of war. The customary hesitation of such councils, in face of the difficulties of the situation, was increased by an appeal to the delusion of commerce-destroying as a decisive mode of warfare. M. de Beausset urged that "the allied fleets should direct their whole attention to that great and attainable object, the intercepting of the British homeward-bound West India fleets. This was a measure which, as they were now masters of the sea, could scarcely fail of success; and it would prove a blow so fatal to that nation, that she could not recover it during the whole course of the war." The French account of Lapeyrouse-Bonfils is essentially the same. Chevalier, who is silent as to details, justly remarks: "The cruise just made by the allied fleet was such as to injure the reputation of France and Spain. These two powers had made a great display of force which had produced no result." The English trade also received little injury. Guichen wrote home: "I have returned from a cruise fatiguing but not glorious."
[162] Beatson goes into detail (vol. v. p. 395) about the debate in the allied council of war. The usual indecisiveness of such councils, faced with the challenges of the situation, was worsened by the misguided belief that destroying commerce was a definitive strategy for warfare. M. de Beausset insisted that "the allied fleets should focus all their efforts on the significant and achievable goal of intercepting the British fleets returning from the West Indies. This was a measure that, since they were now in control of the sea, could hardly fail; it would deal such a devastating blow to that nation that they would not recover from it for the remainder of the war." The French account from Lapeyrouse-Bonfils is essentially the same. Chevalier, who does not go into specifics, rightly notes: "The recent cruise undertaken by the allied fleet damaged the reputation of France and Spain. These two nations showcased a significant display of power that led to no results." The British trade also faced minimal damage. Guichen wrote back home: "I have returned from a tiring but not glorious cruise."
[163] This mishap of the French was largely due to mismanagement by De Guichen, a skilful and usually a careful admiral. When Kempenfeldt fell in with him, all the French ships-of-war were to leeward of their convoy, while the English were to windward of it. The former, therefore, were unable to interpose in time; and the alternative remedy, of the convoy running down to leeward of their escort, could not be applied by all the merchant-ships in so large a body.
[163] This incident with the French was mostly due to De Guichen's mismanagement, despite him being a skilled and usually careful admiral. When Kempenfeldt encountered him, all the French warships were downwind of their convoy, while the English ships were upwind. As a result, the French couldn't step in quickly enough, and the alternative solution of having the convoy move downwind to their escort couldn't be executed by all the merchant ships in such a large group.
[164] "In the spring of 1780 the British admiralty had assembled in the Channel ports forty-five ships-of-the-line. The squadron at Brest was reduced to twelve or fifteen.... To please Spain, twenty French ships-of-the-line had joined the flag of Admiral Cordova in Cadiz. In consequence of these dispositions, the English with their Channel fleet held in check the forces which we had in Brest and in Cadiz. Enemy's cruisers traversed freely the space between the Lizard and the Straits of Gibraltar." (Chevalier, p. 202.)
[164] "In the spring of 1780, the British Navy had gathered forty-five battleships in the Channel ports. The squadron in Brest was reduced to twelve or fifteen. To appease Spain, twenty French battleships had joined Admiral Cordova's fleet in Cadiz. Because of these arrangements, the British Channel fleet kept our forces in Brest and Cadiz in check. Enemy cruisers moved freely between the Lizard and the Straits of Gibraltar." (Chevalier, p. 202.)
In 1781 "the Cabinet of Versailles called the attention of Holland and Spain to the necessity of assembling at Brest a fleet strong enough to impose upon the ships which Great Britain kept in the Channel. The Dutch remained in the Texel, and the Spaniards did not leave Cadiz. From this state of things it resulted that the English, with forty ships-of-the-line, blocked seventy belonging to the allied powers." (p. 265.)
In 1781, "the Cabinet of Versailles alerted Holland and Spain to the need to gather a fleet at Brest strong enough to challenge the ships that Great Britain had in the Channel. The Dutch stayed in the Texel, and the Spaniards didn't leave Cadiz. As a result, the English, with forty ships-of-the-line, blocked seventy belonging to the allied powers." (p. 265.)
[165] "A question was very much agitated both in and out of Parliament; namely, Whether the intercepting of the French fleet under the Count de Grasse should not have been the first object of the British fleet under Vice-Admiral Darby, instead of losing time in going to Ireland, by which that opportunity was missed. The defeat of the French fleet would certainly totally have disconcerted the great plans which the enemies had formed in the East and West Indies. It would have insured the safety of the British West India islands; the Cape of Good Hope must have fallen into the hands of Britain; and the campaign in North America might have had a very different termination." (Beatson's Memoirs, vol. v. p. 341, where the contrary arguments are also stated.)
[165] "A question was heavily debated both in and out of Parliament: should the focus of the British fleet under Vice-Admiral Darby have been to intercept the French fleet led by Count de Grasse instead of wasting time going to Ireland, resulting in that opportunity being missed? Defeating the French fleet would have significantly disrupted the major plans that the enemies had for the East and West Indies. It would have secured the safety of the British West Indies; the Cape of Good Hope would likely have fallen into British hands; and the outcome of the campaign in North America could have been very different." (Beatson's Memoirs, vol. v. p. 341, where the opposing arguments are also presented.)
[166] This is one of the most common and flagrant violations of the principles of war,—stretching a thin line, everywhere inadequate, over an immense frontier. The clamors of trade and local interests make popular governments especially liable to it.
[166] This is one of the most common and obvious violations of the principles of war—stretching a thin line, which is always insufficient, over a vast frontier. The demands of trade and local interests make popular governments particularly vulnerable to this.
[167] Annual Register, 1782.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Annual Register, 1782.
CHAPTER XII.ToC
Events in the East Indies, 1778-1781.—Suffren sails from Brest, 1781.—His Brilliant Naval Campaign in the Indian Seas, 1782, 1783.
Events in the East Indies, 1778-1781.—Suffren departs from Brest, 1781.—His impressive naval campaign in the Indian Seas, 1782, 1783.
The very interesting and instructive campaign of Suffren in the East Indies, although in itself by far the most noteworthy and meritorious naval performance of the war of 1778, failed, through no fault of his, to affect the general issue. It was not till 1781 that the French Court felt able to direct upon the East naval forces adequate to the importance of the issue. Yet the conditions of the peninsula at that time were such as to give an unusual opportunity for shaking the English power. Hyder Ali, the most skilful and daring of all the enemies against whom the English had yet fought in India, was then ruling over the kingdom of Mysore, which, from its position in the southern part of the peninsula, threatened both the Carnatic and the Malabar coast. Hyder, ten years before, had maintained alone a most successful war against the intruding foreigners, concluding with a peace upon the terms of a mutual restoration of conquests; and he was now angered by the capture of Mahé. On the other hand, a number of warlike tribes, known by the name of the Mahrattas, of the same race and loosely knit together in a kind of feudal system, had become involved in war with the English. The territory occupied by these tribes, whose chief capital was at Poonah, near Bombay, extended northward from Mysore to the Ganges. With boundaries thus conterminous, and placed centrally with reference to the three English presidencies of Bombay, Calcutta, and Madras, Hyder and the Mahrattas were in a position of advantage for mutual support and for offensive operations against [420]the common enemy. At the beginning of the war between England and France, a French agent appeared at Poonah. It was reported to Warren Hastings, the Governor-General, that the tribes had agreed to terms and ceded to the French a seaport on the Malabar coast. With his usual promptness, Hastings at once determined on war, and sent a division of the Bengal army across the Jumna and into Berar. Another body of four thousand English troops also marched from Bombay; but being badly led, was surrounded and forced to surrender in January, 1779. This unusual reverse quickened the hopes and increased the strength of the enemies of the English; and although the material injury was soon remedied by substantial successes under able leaders, the loss of prestige remained. The anger of Hyder Ali, roused by the capture of Mahé, was increased by imprudent thwarting on the part of the governor of Madras. Seeing the English entangled with the Mahrattas, and hearing that a French armament was expected on the Coromandel coast, he quietly prepared for war. In the summer of 1780 swarms of his horsemen descended without warning from the hills, and appeared near the gates of Madras. In September one body of English troops, three thousand strong, was cut to pieces, and another of five thousand was only saved by a rapid retreat upon Madras, losing its artillery and trains. Unable to attack Madras, Hyder turned upon the scattered posts separated from each other and the capital by the open country, which was now wholly in his control.
The very interesting and informative campaign led by Suffren in the East Indies, though the most noteworthy and commendable naval operation of the war in 1778, did not change the overall outcome, and it wasn't his fault. It wasn't until 1781 that the French government felt it could send naval forces to the East that matched the significance of the situation. However, the conditions in the peninsula at that time presented a unique chance to challenge British power. Hyder Ali, the most skilled and bold adversary the British had ever faced in India, was ruling over the kingdom of Mysore, which, due to its location in the southern part of the peninsula, posed a threat to both the Carnatic and the Malabar Coast. Ten years earlier, he had single-handedly waged a highly successful war against the encroaching foreigners, ending with a peace agreement that included returning conquests to one another; he was now enraged by the capture of Mahé. Meanwhile, a number of warrior tribes known as the Mahrattas—who shared the same ethnic background and were loosely organized in a feudal system—had engaged in war with the British. The territory these tribes occupied, with their main capital at Poonah near Bombay, stretched from Mysore northward to the Ganges. With overlapping territories and centrally located concerning the three British presidencies of Bombay, Calcutta, and Madras, Hyder and the Mahrattas were in a favorable position for mutual support and offensive actions against [420]the common enemy. At the start of the war between England and France, a French agent appeared in Poonah. Reports reached Warren Hastings, the Governor-General, that the tribes had reached an agreement and had given the French a seaport on the Malabar Coast. Displaying his usual decisiveness, Hastings quickly decided on war and sent a division of the Bengal army across the Jumna River and into Berar. Another group of four thousand British troops also marched from Bombay; however, poorly led, they were surrounded and forced to surrender in January 1779. This unexpected setback boosted the hopes and strengthened the enemies of the British; although the material damage was soon fixed by significant victories led by capable commanders, the loss of prestige lingered. Hyder Ali's anger, initially triggered by the capture of Mahé, was worsened by reckless interference from the governor of Madras. Observing the British entangled with the Mahrattas and hearing that a French fleet was expected on the Coromandel Coast, he discreetly prepared for war. In the summer of 1780, large groups of his horsemen unexpectedly descended from the hills and appeared near the gates of Madras. In September, one contingent of British troops, three thousand strong, was decimated, and another force of five thousand narrowly escaped by retreating quickly back to Madras, losing their artillery and supply lines. Unable to assault Madras, Hyder focused on the scattered outposts that were now entirely under his control and separated from the capital by open territory.
Such was the state of affairs when, in January, 1781, a French squadron of six ships-of-the-line and three frigates appeared on the coast. The English fleet under Sir Edward Hughes had gone to Bombay. To the French commodore, Count d'Orves, Hyder appealed for aid in an attack upon Cuddalore. Deprived of support by sea, and surrounded by the myriads of natives, the place must have fallen. D'Orves, however, refused, and returned to the Isle of France. At the same time one of the most skilful of the English Indian soldiers, Sir Eyre Coote, took the field against Hyder. The latter at [421]once raised the siege of the beleaguered posts, and after a series of operations extending through the spring months, was brought to battle on the 1st of July, 1781. His total defeat restored to the English the open country, saved the Carnatic, and put an end to the hopes of the partisans of the French in their late possession of Pondicherry. A great opportunity had been lost.
The situation was like this when, in January 1781, a French squadron consisting of six ships of the line and three frigates showed up on the coast. The English fleet, led by Sir Edward Hughes, had gone to Bombay. Hyder turned to the French commodore, Count d'Orves, for help with an attack on Cuddalore. Cut off from support by the sea and surrounded by countless native forces, the location was sure to fall. However, D'Orves declined and returned to the Isle of France. At the same time, one of the most skilled English soldiers in India, Sir Eyre Coote, went against Hyder. The latter quickly lifted the siege of the besieged posts, and after a series of actions that stretched through the spring months, he was engaged in battle on July 1, 1781. His complete defeat allowed the English to regain the open country, saved the Carnatic, and dashed the hopes of those supporting the French in their recent hold on Pondicherry. A significant opportunity had been missed.
Meanwhile a French officer of very different temper from his predecessors was on his way to the East Indies. It will be remembered that when De Grasse sailed from Brest, March 22, 1781, for the West Indies, there went with his fleet a division of five ships-of-the-line under Suffren. The latter separated from the main body on the 29th of the month, taking with him a few transports destined for the Cape of Good Hope, then a Dutch colony. The French government had learned that an expedition from England was destined to seize this important halting-place on the road to India, and Suffren's first mission was to secure it. In fact, the squadron under Commodore Johnstone[168] had got away first, and had anchored at Porto Praya, in the Cape Verde Islands, a Portuguese colony, on the 11th of April. It numbered two ships-of-the-line, and three of fifty guns, with frigates and smaller vessels, besides thirty-five transports, mostly armed. Without apprehension of attack, not because he trusted to the neutrality of the port but because he thought his destination secret, the English commodore had not anchored with a view to battle.
Meanwhile, a French officer with a very different attitude than his predecessors was heading to the East Indies. It’s worth noting that when De Grasse set sail from Brest on March 22, 1781, for the West Indies, a division of five ships-of-the-line under Suffren accompanied his fleet. Suffren parted ways with the main group on the 29th of that month, taking along some transports headed for the Cape of Good Hope, which was then a Dutch colony. The French government had learned that an English expedition aimed to capture this crucial stop on the route to India, and Suffren's first task was to secure it. In fact, the squadron led by Commodore Johnstone[168] was the first to leave and had anchored at Porto Praya in the Cape Verde Islands, a Portuguese colony, on April 11. It included two ships-of-the-line, three fifty-gun ships, along with frigates and smaller vessels, as well as thirty-five mostly armed transports. Without fear of an attack—not because he trusted the port's neutrality but because he believed his destination was a secret—the English commodore had not anchored with the intention of engaging in battle.
It so happened that at the moment of sailing from Brest one of the ships intended for the West Indies was transferred to Suffren's squadron. She consequently had not water enough for the longer voyage, and this with other reasons [422]determined Suffren also to anchor at Porto Praya. On the 16th of April, five days after Johnstone, he made the island early in the morning and stood for the anchorage, sending a coppered ship ahead to reconnoitre. Approaching from the eastward, the land for some time hid the English squadron; but at quarter before nine the advance ship, the "Artésien," signalled that enemy's ships were anchored in the bay. The latter is open to the southward, and extends from east to west about a mile and a half; the conditions are such that ships usually lie in the northeast part, near the shore (Plate XIII).[169] The English were there, stretching irregularly in a west-northwest line. Both Suffren and Johnstone were surprised, but the latter more so; and the initiative remained with the French officer. Few men were fitter, by natural temper and the teaching of experience, for the prompt decision required. Of ardent disposition and inborn military genius, Suffren had learned, in the conduct of Boscawen toward the squadron of De la Clue,[170] in which he had served, not to lay weight upon the power of Portugal to enforce respect for her neutrality. He knew that this must be the squadron meant for the Cape of Good Hope. The only question for him was whether to press on to the Cape with the chance of getting there first, or to attack the English at their anchors, in the hope of so crippling them as to prevent their further progress. He decided for the latter; and although the ships of his squadron, not sailing equally well, were scattered, he also determined to stand in at once, rather than lose the advantage of a surprise. Making signal to prepare for action at anchor, he took the lead in his flag-ship, the "Héros," of seventy-four guns, hauled close round the southeast point of the bay, and stood for the English flag-ship (f). He was closely followed by the "Hannibal," seventy-four (line a b); the advance ship "Artésien" (c), a sixty-four, also stood on with him; but the two rear ships were still far astern.
It happened that when they were about to set sail from Brest, one of the ships meant for the West Indies was reassigned to Suffren's squadron. Because of this, it didn't have enough water for the longer journey, and this, along with other factors [422], led Suffren to also anchor at Porto Praya. On April 16th, five days after Johnstone, he reached the island early in the morning and headed for the anchorage, sending a coppered ship ahead to scout the area. Coming from the east, the land concealed the English squadron for a while; but at a quarter to nine, the lead ship, the "Artésien," signaled that enemy ships were anchored in the bay. The bay is open to the south and stretches about a mile and a half from east to west; conditions typically place ships in the northeast part, near the shore (Plate XIII).[169] The English were positioned there, irregularly lined up in a west-northwest direction. Both Suffren and Johnstone were taken aback, but Johnstone was more surprised; the initiative was in the hands of the French officer. Few people were better equipped, by personality and experience, for the quick decision needed. With a passionate nature and innate military skill, Suffren had learned from Boscawen's conduct toward De la Clue's squadron,[170] in which he had served, not to underestimate Portugal's ability to enforce her neutrality. He recognized that this must be the squadron heading for the Cape of Good Hope. The only question for him was whether to continue on to the Cape in the hopes of arriving first, or to attack the English at their anchor to potentially cripple them and hinder their progress. He chose the latter; and even though the ships in his squadron weren't sailing equally well and were scattered, he resolved to move in immediately, rather than miss the chance for a surprise. Signaling to prepare for action at anchor, he took the lead on his flagship, the "Héros," which was armed with seventy-four guns, rounded the southeast point of the bay, and advanced toward the English flagship (f). He was closely followed by the "Hannibal," also seventy-four (line a b); the lead ship "Artésien" (c), a sixty-four, moved ahead with him; but the two ships at the rear were still far behind.
[423]The English commodore got ready for battle as soon as he made out the enemy, but had no time to rectify his order. Suffren anchored five hundred feet from the flag-ship's starboard beam (by a singular coincidence the English flag-ship was also called "Hero"), thus having enemy's ships on both sides, and opened fire. The "Hannibal" anchored ahead of her commodore (b), and so close that the latter had to veer cable and drop astern (a); but her captain, ignorant of Suffren's intention to disregard the neutrality of the port, had not obeyed the order to clear for action, and was wholly unprepared,—his decks lumbered with water-casks which had been got up to expedite watering, and the guns not cast loose. He did not add to this fault by any hesitation, but followed the flag-ship boldly, receiving passively the fire, to which for a time he was unable to reply. Luffing to the wind, he passed to windward of his chief, chose his position with skill, and atoned by his death for his first fault. These two ships were so placed as to use both broadsides. The "Artésien," in the smoke, mistook an East India ship for a man-of-war. Running alongside (c’), her captain was struck dead at the moment he was about to anchor, and the critical moment being lost by the absence of a head, the ship drifted out of close action, carrying the East-Indiaman along with her (c’’). The remaining two vessels, coming up late, failed to keep close enough to the wind, and they too were thrown out of action (d, e). Then Suffren, finding himself with only two ships to bear the brunt of the fight, cut his cable and made sail. The "Hannibal" followed his movement; but so much injured was she that her fore and main masts went over the side,—fortunately not till she was pointed out from the bay, which she left shorn to a hulk.
[423]The English commodore prepared for battle as soon as he spotted the enemy, but didn’t have time to adjust his orders. Suffren anchored five hundred feet from the flagship's starboard side (ironically, the English flagship was also called "Hero"), placing enemy ships on both sides, and opened fire. The "Hannibal" anchored in front of her commodore (b), so close that he had to let out the cable and fall back (a); however, her captain, unaware of Suffren's decision to ignore the port's neutrality, hadn’t followed the order to prepare for action and was completely unready—his decks cluttered with water casks brought up to speed up resupply, and the guns not ready to fire. He didn’t hesitate, though, and boldly followed the flagship, taking the enemy's fire without being able to respond at first. Steering into the wind, he moved upwind of his leader, skillfully chose his position, and redeemed himself with his death. The two ships were positioned to use both their broadsides. The "Artésien," caught in the smoke, mistook an East India ship for a warship. As it ran alongside (c’) to anchor, her captain was struck dead just as he was about to drop anchor, missing the critical moment, and the ship drifted out of close combat, dragging the East-Indiaman with her (c’’). The other two vessels, arriving late, failed to stay close enough to the wind and were also pushed out of action (d, e). With only two ships left to take on the fight, Suffren cut his cable and set sail. The "Hannibal" followed his lead; however, she was so badly damaged that her fore and main masts went overboard—fortunately after she was pointed out from the bay, leaving her reduced to a hulk.
Putting entirely aside questions of international law, the wisdom and conduct of Suffren's attack, from the military point of view, invite attention. To judge them properly, we must consider what was the object of the mission with which he was charged, and what were the chief factors in thwarting or forwarding it. His first object was to protect the Cape [424]of Good Hope against an English expedition; the chief reliance for effecting his purpose was to get there first; the obstacle to his success was the English fleet. To anticipate the arrival of the latter, two courses were open to him,—to run for it in the hope of winning the race, or to beat the enemy and so put him out of the running altogether. So long as his whereabouts was unknown, a search, unless with very probable information, would be a waste of time; but when fortune had thrown his enemy across his path, the genius of Suffren at once jumped to the conclusion that the control of the sea in southern waters would determine the question, and should be settled at once. To use his own strong expression, "The destruction of the English squadron would cut off the root of all the plans and projects of that expedition, gain us for a long time the superiority in India, a superiority whence might result a glorious peace, and hinder the English from reaching the Cape before me,—an object which has been fulfilled and was the principal aim of my mission." He was ill-informed as to the English force, believing it greater than it was; but he had it at disadvantage and surprised. The prompt decision to fight, therefore, was right, and it is the most pronounced merit of Suffren in this affair, that he postponed for the moment—dismissed, so to speak, from his mind—the ulterior projects of the cruise; but in so doing he departed from the traditions of the French navy and the usual policy of his government. It cannot be imputed to him as a fault that he did not receive from his captains the support he was fairly entitled to expect. The accidents and negligence which led to their failure have been mentioned; but having his three best ships in hand, there can be little doubt he was right in profiting by the surprise, and trusting that the two in reserve would come up in time.
Setting aside questions of international law, the strategy and execution of Suffren's attack, from a military perspective, deserves attention. To evaluate them properly, we need to look at the mission's objective and the key factors that either hindered or helped it. His primary goal was to defend the Cape [424] of Good Hope against an English expedition; his main strategy was to get there first, while the English fleet posed the biggest challenge to his success. To outpace the arrival of the latter, he had two options: race to it in hopes of beating them or engage the enemy directly to eliminate them from the contest altogether. As long as his location was unknown, searching for him—unless there was solid information—would have been pointless. However, when luck brought his enemy into view, Suffren quickly realized that controlling the sea in southern waters would be crucial and needed to be addressed immediately. In his own strong words, "The destruction of the English squadron would cut off the root of all the plans and projects of that expedition, gain us long-term superiority in India, which could lead to a glorious peace, and prevent the English from reaching the Cape before me—which was the main goal of my mission." He was misinformed about the size of the English force, thinking it was larger than it actually was; however, he had the English at a disadvantage and caught off guard. Thus, his quick decision to fight was correct, and it stands out as one of Suffren's greatest strengths in this situation that he momentarily set aside—so to speak—his broader plans for the cruise. Nonetheless, in doing so, he diverged from the traditions of the French navy and the usual policies of his government. It’s not a fault that he didn’t receive the support from his captains that he rightfully expected. The mishaps and negligence that led to their failure have been noted; but with his three best ships available, there’s little doubt he was right to take advantage of the surprise, trusting that the two ships in reserve would arrive in time.
The position taken by his own ship and by the "Hannibal," enabling them to use both broadsides,—in other words, to develop their utmost force,—was excellently judged. He thus availed himself to the full of the advantage given by the surprise and by the lack of order in the enemy's squadron. [425]This lack of order, according to English accounts, threw out of action two of their fifty-gun ships,—a circumstance which, while discreditable to Johnstone, confirmed Suffren's judgment in precipitating his attack. Had he received the aid upon which, after all deductions, he was justified in counting, he would have destroyed the English squadron; as it was, he saved the Cape Colony at Porto Praya. It is not surprising, therefore, that the French Court, notwithstanding its traditional sea policy and the diplomatic embarrassment caused by the violation of Portuguese neutrality, should have heartily and generously acknowledged a vigor of action to which it was unused in its admirals.
The positions of his own ship and the "Hannibal," which allowed them to use both sides for maximum force, were well thought out. He made the most of the surprise and the chaos in the enemy's squadron. [425] According to English reports, this chaos rendered two of their fifty-gun ships ineffective—something that, while shameful for Johnstone, validated Suffren's decision to launch his attack. If he had received the support he could reasonably expect, he would have defeated the English squadron; instead, he protected the Cape Colony at Porto Praya. It's not surprising, then, that the French Court, despite its traditional naval policies and the diplomatic issues caused by breaching Portuguese neutrality, warmly and generously recognized the decisiveness of action that it wasn't used to seeing from its admirals.
It has been said that Suffren, who had watched the cautious movements of D'Estaing in America, and had served in the Seven Years' War, attributed in part the reverses suffered by the French at sea to the introduction of Tactics, which he stigmatized as the veil of timidity; but that the results of the fight at Porto Praya, necessarily engaged without previous arrangement, convinced him that system and method had their use.[171] Certainly his tactical combinations afterward were of a high order, especially in his earlier actions in the East (for he seems again to have abandoned them in the later fights under the disappointment caused by his captains' disaffection or blundering). But his great and transcendent merit lay in the clearness with which he recognized in the English fleets, the exponent of the British sea power, the proper enemy of the French fleet, to be attacked first and always when with any show of equality. Far from blind to the importance of those ulterior objects to which the action of the French navy was so constantly subordinated, he yet saw plainly that the way to assure those objects was not by economizing his own ships, but by destroying those of the enemy. Attack, not defence, was the road to sea power in his eyes; and sea power meant control of the issues upon the land, at least in regions distant from Europe. This view out of the English policy he had the courage to take, after forty years [426]of service in a navy sacrificed to the opposite system; but he brought to its practical application a method not to be found in any English admiral of the day, except perhaps Rodney, and a fire superior to the latter. Yet the course thus followed was no mere inspiration of the moment; it was the result of clear views previously held and expressed. However informed by natural ardor, it had the tenacity of an intellectual conviction. Thus he wrote to D'Estaing, after the failure to destroy Barrington's squadron at Sta. Lucia, remonstrating upon the half-manned condition of his own and other ships, from which men had been landed to attack the English troops:—
It’s been said that Suffren, who observed D’Estaing's cautious movements in America and served in the Seven Years' War, partly blamed the setbacks endured by the French at sea on the introduction of Tactics, which he called a cover for timidity. However, the outcomes of the battle at Porto Praya, fought without prior planning, convinced him that having a system and method was beneficial. Certainly, his tactical strategies afterward were top-notch, especially in his earlier engagements in the East (he seems to have abandoned them later due to the disappointment caused by his captains' disloyalty or mistakes). His greatest strength was his clear understanding that the English fleets, representing British naval power, were the primary enemies of the French fleet, and they should always be the first target whenever there was a reasonable chance of success. While he wasn’t oblivious to the significance of the broader objectives that often dominated the French navy's actions, he recognized that achieving those goals was not about conserving his own ships but about destroying the enemy’s. For him, attack, not defense, was the path to naval power; and naval power meant controlling outcomes on land, especially in regions far from Europe. He had the courage to adopt this perspective on English policy after forty years of serving in a navy dedicated to the opposite approach. Yet, he brought to its practical application a method not seen in any other English admiral of the time, except perhaps Rodney, and a greater passion than his. This approach wasn’t merely a momentary inspiration; it stemmed from clearly held and expressed views. Even though it was fueled by natural enthusiasm, it had the persistence of an intellectual conviction. After failing to destroy Barrington's squadron at Sta. Lucia, he wrote to D'Estaing, expressing concerns about the under-manned state of his own and other ships, from which men had been taken to attack the English troops:—
"Notwithstanding the small results of the two cannonades of the 15th of December [directed against Barrington's squadron], and the unhappy check our land forces have undergone, we may yet hope for success. But the only means to have it is to attack vigorously the squadron, which, with our superiority, cannot resist, notwithstanding its land batteries, whose effects will be neutralized if we run them aboard, or anchor upon their buoys. If we delay, they may escape.... Besides, our fleet being unmanned, it is in condition neither to sail nor to fight. What would happen if Admiral Byron's fleet should arrive? What would become of ships having neither crews nor admiral? Their defeat would cause the loss of the army and the colony. Let us destroy that squadron; their army, lacking everything and in a bad country, would soon be obliged to surrender. Then let Byron come, we shall be pleased to see him. I think it is not necessary to point out that for this attack we need men and plans well concerted with those who are to execute them."
"Despite the minor outcomes of the two cannonades on December 15th [aimed at Barrington's squadron], and the unfortunate setback faced by our ground forces, we can still hope for success. However, the only way to achieve this is to launch a strong attack on the squadron, which, given our superiority, should not be able to withstand it, despite its land batteries. Their effectiveness will be diminished if we close in or anchor on their buoys. If we hesitate, they might escape.... Additionally, our fleet is understaffed, making it unable to sail or fight. What would happen if Admiral Byron’s fleet showed up? What would become of ships with no crews or admiral? Their defeat would lead to the loss of the army and the colony. We need to destroy that squadron; their army, lacking resources and situated in a hostile environment, would soon have no choice but to surrender. Then, let Byron come; we would welcome him. It’s clear that for this attack, we need personnel and well-coordinated plans with those executing them."
Equally did he condemn the failure of D'Estaing to capture the four crippled ships of Byron's squadron, after the action off Grenada.
He also criticized D'Estaing for not capturing the four damaged ships from Byron's squadron after the battle near Grenada.
Owing to a combination of misfortunes, the attack at Porto Praya had not the decisive result it deserved. Commodore Johnstone got under way and followed Suffren; but he thought his force was not adequate to attack in face of the resolute bearing of the French, and feared the loss of time consequent upon chasing to leeward of his port. He succeeded, [427]however, in retaking the East India ship which the "Artésien" had carried out. Suffren continued his course and anchored at the Cape, in Simon's Bay, on the 21st of June. Johnstone followed him a fortnight later; but learning by an advance ship that the French troops had been landed, he gave up the enterprise against the colony, made a successful commerce-destroying attack upon five Dutch India ships in Saldanha Bay, which poorly repaid the failure of the military undertaking, and then went back himself to England, after sending the ships-of-the-line on to join Sir Edward Hughes in the East Indies.
Due to a mix of bad luck, the attack at Porto Praya didn't achieve the decisive outcome it should have. Commodore Johnstone set sail and followed Suffren; however, he believed his forces weren't strong enough to confront the determined French and worried about wasting time chasing them away from his port. He did manage, [427] though, to recapture the East India ship that the "Artésien" had taken. Suffren continued on his way and anchored at the Cape, in Simon's Bay, on June 21st. Johnstone caught up with him two weeks later, but after receiving word from an advance ship that the French troops had landed, he abandoned the mission against the colony. Instead, he successfully attacked five Dutch India ships in Saldanha Bay, which didn’t quite make up for the failure of the military operation, and then returned to England after sending his ships-of-the-line on to join Sir Edward Hughes in the East Indies.
Having seen the Cape secured, Suffren sailed for the Isle of France, arriving there on the 25th of October, 1781. Count d'Orves, being senior, took command of the united squadron. The necessary repairs were made, and the fleet sailed for India, December 17. On the 22d of January, 1782, an English fifty-gun ship, the "Hannibal," was taken. On the 9th of February Count d'Orves died, and Suffren became commander-in-chief, with the rank of commodore. A few days later the land was seen to the northward of Madras; but owing to head-winds the city was not sighted until February 15. Nine large ships-of-war were found anchored in order under the guns of the forts. They were the fleet of Sir Edward Hughes, not in confusion like that of Johnstone.[172]
Having secured the Cape, Suffren sailed to the Isle of France, arriving on October 25, 1781. Count d'Orves, being the senior officer, took command of the united squadron. The necessary repairs were completed, and the fleet set off for India on December 17. On January 22, 1782, an English fifty-gun ship, the "Hannibal," was captured. On February 9, Count d'Orves passed away, and Suffren became the commander-in-chief, with the rank of commodore. A few days later, land was spotted to the north of Madras, but due to headwinds, the city wasn’t seen until February 15. Nine large warships were found anchored in formation under the forts' guns. They were part of Sir Edward Hughes' fleet, not disorganized like Johnstone's.[172]
Here, at the meeting point between these two redoubtable champions, each curiously representative of the characteristics of his own race,—the one of the stubborn tenacity and seamanship of the English, the other of the ardor and tactical science of the French, too long checked and betrayed by a false system,—is the place to give an accurate [428]statement of the material forces. The French fleet had three seventy-fours, seven sixty-fours, and two fifty-gun ships, one of which was the lately captured English "Hannibal." To these Sir Edward Hughes opposed two seventy-fours, one seventy, one sixty-eight, four sixty-fours, and one fifty-gun ship. The odds, therefore, twelve to nine, were decidedly against the English; and it is likely that the advantage in single-ship power, class for class, was also against them.
Here, at the meeting point of these two formidable champions, each representing the distinct traits of their respective nations—the stubborn tenacity and seamanship of the English and the fervor and tactical skill of the French, which had long been held back by an ineffective system—is where we can give an accurate [428]summary of the material forces. The French fleet had three ships of the line rated at seventy-four guns, seven rated at sixty-four guns, and two rated at fifty guns, one of which was the recently captured English "Hannibal." In response, Sir Edward Hughes had two ships rated at seventy-four guns, one at seventy, one at sixty-eight, four at sixty-four, and one rated at fifty guns. Thus, the odds, twelve to nine, were clearly against the English; and it’s probable that the advantage in single-ship power, class for class, was also against them.
It must be recalled that at the time of his arrival Suffren found no friendly port or roadstead, no base of supplies or repair. The French posts had all fallen by 1779; and his rapid movement, which saved the Cape, did not bring him up in time to prevent the capture of the Dutch Indian possessions. The invaluable harbor of Trincomalee, in Ceylon, was taken just one month before Suffren saw the English fleet at Madras. But if he thus had everything to gain, Hughes had as much to lose. To Suffren, at the moment of first meeting, belonged superiority of numbers and the power of taking the offensive, with all its advantages in choice of initiative. Upon Hughes fell the anxiety of the defensive, with inferior numbers, many assailable points, and uncertainty as to the place where the blow would fall.
It’s important to remember that when Suffren arrived, he found no friendly port or safe harbor, nor any supply or repair base. The French posts had all been lost by 1779, and his quick response, which saved the Cape, didn’t allow him to prevent the capture of the Dutch possessions in India. The crucial harbor of Trincomalee in Ceylon was taken just a month before Suffren spotted the English fleet at Madras. But while Suffren had everything to gain, Hughes had just as much to lose. At their first encounter, Suffren had the advantage of numbers and the ability to take the offensive, which came with the benefits of choosing his initiative. Hughes, on the other hand, faced the stress of being on the defensive, with fewer ships, several vulnerable points, and uncertainty about where the attack would come from.
It was still true, though not so absolutely as thirty years before, that control in India depended upon control of the sea. The passing years had greatly strengthened the grip of England, and proportionately loosened that of France. Relatively, therefore, the need of Suffren to destroy his enemy was greater than that of his predecessors, D'Aché and others; whereas Hughes could count upon a greater strength in the English possessions, and so bore a somewhat less responsibility than the admirals who went before him.
It was still true, though not as much as thirty years earlier, that control in India relied on control of the sea. Over the years, England had significantly strengthened its hold, while France's grip had loosened. Therefore, Suffren's need to defeat his enemy was greater than that of his predecessors, like D'Aché and others; meanwhile, Hughes could rely on stronger English holdings, placing less responsibility on him compared to the admirals before him.
Nevertheless, the sea was still by far the most important factor in the coming strife, and for its proper control it was necessary to disable more or less completely the enemy's fleet, and to have some reasonably secure base. For the latter purpose, Trincomalee, though unhealthy, was by far the best harbor on the east coast; but it had not been long enough [429]in the hands of England to be well supplied. Hughes, therefore, inevitably fell back on Madras for repairs after an action, and was forced to leave Trincomalee to its own resources until ready to take the sea again. Suffren, on the other hand, found all ports alike destitute of naval supplies, while the natural advantages of Trincomalee made its possession an evident object of importance to him; and Hughes so understood it.
Nevertheless, the sea was still the most crucial factor in the upcoming conflict, and to manage it properly, it was essential to significantly weaken the enemy's fleet and to secure a reliable base. For this, Trincomalee, despite its health risks, was the best harbor on the east coast; however, it hadn't been under British control long enough [429] to be well-stocked. Consequently, Hughes had to fall back on Madras for repairs after a battle and was left to rely on Trincomalee's limited resources until he was ready to set sail again. On the other hand, Suffren discovered that all ports were equally lacking in naval supplies, but the strategic advantages of Trincomalee made it a key objective for him, and Hughes understood that.
Independently, therefore, of the tradition of the English navy impelling Hughes to attack, the influence of which appears plainly between the lines of his letters, Suffren had, in moving toward Trincomalee, a threat which was bound to draw his adversary out of his port. Nor did Trincomalee stand alone; the existing war between Hyder Ali and the English made it imperative for Suffren to seize a port upon the mainland, at which to land the three thousand troops carried by the squadron to co-operate on shore against the common enemy, and from which supplies, at least of food, might be had. Everything, therefore, concurred to draw Hughes out, and make him seek to cripple or hinder the French fleet.
So, regardless of the traditional urge for the English navy to attack, which is clearly reflected in Hughes's letters, Suffren had a strategy in moving towards Trincomalee that was bound to provoke his opponent into action. Trincomalee wasn’t the only factor; the ongoing conflict between Hyder Ali and the English made it necessary for Suffren to take a mainland port where he could land the three thousand troops carried by his squadron to work together on land against their shared enemy, and from which they could secure at least food supplies. Everything aligned to draw Hughes out and push him to try to damage or obstruct the French fleet.
The method of his action would depend upon his own and his adversary's skill, and upon the uncertain element of the weather. It was plainly desirable for him not to be brought to battle except on his own terms; in other words, without some advantage of situation to make up for his weaker force. As a fleet upon the open sea cannot secure any advantages of ground, the position favoring the weaker was that to windward, giving choice of time and some choice as to method of attack, the offensive position used defensively, with the intention to make an offensive movement if circumstances warrant. The leeward position left the weaker no choice but to run, or to accept action on its adversary's terms.
The way he acted would depend on his own skills, his opponent’s skills, and the unpredictable weather. It was clearly important for him to avoid being engaged in battle unless it was on his own terms; in other words, he needed some advantage in the situation to compensate for his smaller force. Just like a fleet at sea can't gain any ground advantages, the best position for the weaker side was upwind, allowing them the choice of timing and some control over the method of attack, using an offensive position defensively with plans to go on the offensive if the situation allowed. Being downwind left the weaker side with no option but to retreat or fight on the opponent's terms.
Whatever may be thought of Hughes's skill, it must be conceded that his task was difficult. Still, it can be clearly thought down to two requisites. The first was to get in a blow at the French fleet, so as to reduce the present inequality; the second, to keep Suffren from getting [430]Trincomalee, which depended wholly on the fleet.[173] Suffren, on the other hand, if he could do Hughes, in an action, more injury than he himself received, would be free to turn in any direction he chose.
Whatever people might think of Hughes's skills, it's clear that his job was tough. Still, it can really be boiled down to two main goals. The first was to strike the French fleet to lessen the current imbalance; the second was to prevent Suffren from capturing [430]Trincomalee, which relied entirely on the fleet.[173] On the other hand, if Suffren could inflict more damage on Hughes in battle than he received himself, he would be free to move in any direction he wanted.
Suffren having sighted Hughes's fleet at Madras, February 15, anchored his own four miles to the northward. Considering the enemy's line, supported by the batteries, to be too strong for attack, he again got under way at four P.M., and stood south. Hughes also weighed, standing to the southward all that night under easy sail, and at daylight found that the enemy's squadron had separated from the convoy, the ships of war being about twelve miles east, while the transports were nine miles southwest, from him (Plate XIV. A, A). This dispersal is said to have been due to the carelessness of the French frigates, which did not keep touch of the English. Hughes at once profited by it, chasing the convoy (c), knowing that the line-of-battle ships must follow. His copper-bottomed ships came up with and captured six of the enemy, five of which were English prizes. The sixth carried three hundred troops with military stores. Hughes had scored a point.
Suffren spotted Hughes's fleet at Madras on February 15 and anchored his own fleet four miles to the north. Believing the enemy's line, supported by the batteries, was too strong to attack, he set sail again at four P.M. and headed south. Hughes also got underway, moving south all night under easy sail, and at daylight realized that the enemy's squadron had separated from the convoy, with the warships about twelve miles to the east and the transports nine miles southwest of him (Plate XIV. A, A). This dispersal was reportedly due to the French frigates being careless and losing track of the English. Hughes quickly took advantage of this, chasing the convoy (c), knowing that the battleships would have to follow. His copper-bottomed ships caught up with and captured six enemy vessels, five of which were English prizes. The sixth carried three hundred troops along with military supplies. Hughes had scored a point.
Suffren of course followed in a general chase, and by three P.M. four of his best sailers were two or three miles from the sternmost English ships. Hughes's ships were now much scattered, but not injudiciously so, for they joined by signal at seven P.M. Both squadrons stood to the southeast during the night, under easy sail.
Suffren naturally pursued in a general chase, and by 3 PM, four of his best sailors were two or three miles from the last English ships. Hughes's ships were now widely spaced, but wisely so, as they regrouped by signal at 7 PM. Both squadrons headed southeast during the night, under easy sail.
At daylight of the 17th—the date of the first of four actions fought between these two chiefs within seven months—the fleets were six or eight miles apart, the French bearing [431]north-northeast from the English (B, B). The latter formed line-ahead on the port tack (a), with difficulty, owing to the light winds and frequent calms. Admiral Hughes explains that he hoped to weather the enemy by this course so as to engage closely, counting probably on finding himself to windward when the sea-breeze made. The wind continuing light, but with frequent squalls, from north-northeast, the French, running before it, kept the puffs longer and neared the English rapidly, Suffren's intention to attack the rear being aided by Hughes's course. The latter finding his rear straggling, bore up to line abreast (b), retreating to gain time for the ships to close on the centre. These movements in line abreast continued till twenty minutes before four P.M., when, finding he could not escape attack on the enemy's terms, Hughes hauled his wind on the port tack and awaited it (C). Whether by his own fault or not, he was now in the worst possible position, waiting for an attack by a superior force at its pleasure. The rear ship of his line, the "Exeter," was not closed up; and there appears no reason why she should not have been made the van, by forming on the starboard tack, and thus bringing the other ships up to her.
At daybreak on the 17th—the first of four battles fought between these two commanders over seven months—the fleets were about six to eight miles apart, with the French positioned north-northeast from the English. The English fleet formed a line ahead on the port tack, but it was challenging due to light winds and frequent calm spells. Admiral Hughes hoped to outmaneuver the enemy by this strategy to engage closely, likely counting on the sea breeze to push him to windward. The wind remained light but changed frequently with squalls from the north-northeast, allowing the French to sail with the wind at their backs, closing in on the English rapidly. Suffren aimed to attack the rear, which was facilitated by Hughes's movements. As he noticed his rear ships trailing behind, Hughes adjusted his formation to line abreast, retreating to buy time for the ships to gather in the center. This line-abreast formation continued until twenty minutes before four P.M., when Hughes realized he couldn't avoid an attack under the enemy's terms. He then repositioned himself on the port tack and braced for the confrontation. Whether it was his fault or not, he found himself in the worst possible situation, waiting for an attack from a superior force at their discretion. The last ship in his line, the "Exeter," was not properly positioned; there seemed to be no reason why it couldn't have been at the front by moving to the starboard tack, bringing the other ships up to join it.
The method of Suffren's attack (C) is differently stated by him and by Hughes, but the difference is in detail only; the main facts are certain. Hughes says the enemy "steered down on the rear of our line in an irregular double line-abreast," in which formation they continued till the moment of collision, when "three of the enemy's ships in the first line bore right down upon the 'Exeter,' while four more of their second line, headed by the 'Héros,' in which M. de Suffren had his flag, hauled along the outside of the first line toward our centre. At five minutes past four the enemy's three ships began their fire upon the 'Exeter,' which was returned by her and her second ahead; the action became general from our rear to our centre, the commanding ship of the enemy, with three others of their second line, leading down on our centre, yet never advancing farther than opposite to the 'Superbe,' our centre ship, with little or no wind and some heavy rain [432]during the engagement. Under these circumstances, the enemy brought eight of their best ships to the attack of five of ours, as the van of our line, consisting of the 'Monmouth,' 'Eagle,' 'Burford,' and 'Worcester,' could not be brought into action without tacking on the enemy," for which there was not enough wind.
The way Suffren described his attack (C) is presented differently by him and by Hughes, but the differences are just in the details; the main facts are clear. Hughes states that the enemy "approached from the rear of our line in an irregular double line-abreast," and they maintained that formation until they collided. At that moment, "three enemy ships in the first line headed straight for the 'Exeter,' while four more from their second line, led by the 'Héros,' where M. de Suffren had his flag, moved alongside the first line towards our center. At five minutes past four, the enemy's three ships opened fire on the 'Exeter,' which returned fire alongside her lead ship; the battle escalated from our rear to our center, with the enemy's flagship and three others from their second line advancing towards our center, but they never moved closer than opposite our center ship, the 'Superbe,' with very little wind and some heavy rain [432] during the fight. Under these conditions, the enemy sent eight of their best ships against our five, as the front of our line, consisting of the 'Monmouth,' 'Eagle,' 'Burford,' and 'Worcester,' couldn’t engage without tacking towards the enemy," and there wasn’t enough wind for that.
Here we will leave them, and give Suffren's account of how he took up his position. In his report to the Minister of Marine he says:—
Here we will leave them and share Suffren's account of how he took his position. In his report to the Minister of Marine, he states:—
"I should have destroyed the English squadron, less by superior numbers than by the advantageous disposition in which I attacked it. I attacked the rear ship and stood along the English line as far as the sixth. I thus made three of them useless, so that we were twelve against six. I began the fight at half-past three in the afternoon, taking the lead and making signal to form line as best could be done; without that I would not have engaged. At four I made signal to three ships to double on the enemy's rear, and to the squadron to approach within pistol-shot. This signal, though repeated, was not executed. I did not myself give the example, in order that I might hold in check the three van ships, which by tacking would have doubled on me. However, except the 'Brilliant,' which doubled on the rear, no ship was as close as mine, nor received as many shots."
"I should have destroyed the English squadron, not just because of our larger numbers but due to the advantageous position from which I attacked. I went after the ship at the back and moved along the English line up to the sixth ship. This meant I rendered three of them ineffective, so it became twelve of us against six of them. I started the battle at half-past three in the afternoon, taking the lead and signaling to form a line as best as possible; without that, I wouldn't have engaged. At four, I signaled three ships to circle behind the enemy and told the squadron to move in closer, within pistol range. This signal, despite being repeated, wasn’t followed. I didn’t lead the charge myself so I could keep an eye on the three ships at the front, which could have changed position to flank me. However, aside from the 'Brilliant,' which did maneuver to the back, none of the other ships were as close as mine or took as many hits."
The principal point of difference in the two accounts is, that Suffren asserts that his flag-ship passed along the whole English line, from the rear to the sixth ship; while Hughes says the French divided into two lines, which, upon coming near, steered, one on the rear, the other on the centre, of his squadron. The latter would be the better manœuvre; for if the leading ship of the attack passed, as Suffren asserts, along the enemy's line from the rear to the sixth, she should receive in succession the first fire of six ships, which ought to cripple her and confuse her line. Suffren also notes the intention to double on the rear by placing three ships to leeward of it. Two of the French did take this position. Suffren further gives his reason for not closing with his own ship, which led; but as those which followed him went no nearer, Hughes's attention was not drawn to his action.
The main difference in the two accounts is that Suffren claims his flagship moved along the entire English line, from the back to the sixth ship; while Hughes says the French split into two lines, one moving toward the rear and the other toward the center of his squadron. The latter would be the smarter move; if the leading ship of the attack, as Suffren claims, passed along the enemy's line from the back to the sixth, it would face the initial fire from six ships in succession, which should damage it and disrupt its formation. Suffren also mentions the plan to double up on the rear by positioning three ships behind it. Two of the French did take that position. Suffren goes on to explain why he didn’t close in with his own leading ship, but since the ships following him didn’t move any closer, Hughes’s attention wasn't drawn to his actions.
[433]The French commodore was seriously, and it would seem justly, angered by the inaction of several of his captains. Of the second in command he complained to the minister: "Being at the head, I could not well see what was going on in the rear. I had directed M. de Tromelin to make signals to ships which might be near him; he only repeated my own without having them carried out." This complaint was wholly justified. On the 6th of February, ten days before the fight, he had written to his second as follows:—
[433]The French commodore was understandably upset with the inaction of several of his captains. He expressed his concerns about his second in command to the minister: "Since I was at the front, I couldn't clearly see what was happening behind me. I instructed M. de Tromelin to signal to any nearby ships; he only repeated my signals without following through." This complaint was completely valid. On February 6th, ten days before the battle, he had written to his second as follows:—
"If we are so fortunate as to be to windward, as the English are not more than eight, or at most nine, my intention is to double on their rear. Supposing your division to be in the rear, you will see by your position what number of ships will overlap the enemy's line, and you will make signal to them to double[174] [that is, to engage on the lee side].... In any case, I beg you to order to your division the manœuvres which you shall think best fitted to assure the success of the action. The capture of Trincomalee and that of Negapatam, and perhaps of all Ceylon, should make us wish for a general action."
"If we’re lucky enough to be upwind, like the English are not more than eight or nine ships, I plan to circle around behind them. If your division is in the rear, you'll see from your position how many ships will overlap the enemy's line, and you’ll signal to them to double[174] [which means to engage on the downwind side].... Regardless, please instruct your division on the maneuvers you think are best to ensure the success of the battle. Capturing Trincomalee and Negapatam, and maybe even all of Ceylon, should make us eager for a full engagement."
The last two sentences reveal Suffren's own appreciation of the military situation in the Indian seas, which demanded, first, the disabling of the hostile fleet, next, the capture of certain strategic ports. That this diagnosis was correct is as certain as that it reversed the common French maxims, which would have put the port first and the fleet second as objectives. A general action was the first desideratum of Suffren, and it is therefore safe to say that to avoid such action should have been the first object of Hughes. The attempt of the latter to gain the windward position was consequently correct; and as in the month of February the sea-breeze at Madras sets in from the eastward and southward about eleven A.M., he probably did well to steer in that general direction, though the result disappointed him. De Guichen in [434]one of his engagements with Rodney shaped the course of his fleet with reference to being to windward when the afternoon breeze made, and was successful. What use Hughes would have made of the advantage of the wind can only be inferred from his own words,—that he sought it in order to engage more closely. There is not in this the certain promise of any skilful use of a tactical advantage.
The last two sentences show Suffren's understanding of the military situation in the Indian seas, which required first disabling the enemy fleet and then capturing key ports. It's clear that this assessment was accurate, as it contrasted with the usual French strategies that prioritized the port over the fleet. Suffren's main goal was to engage in a general battle, so it's safe to say that avoiding such a battle should have been Hughes' top priority. Hughes' attempt to secure the windward position was thus justified; since in February, the sea-breeze at Madras comes from the east and south around eleven AM, he likely did well to head in that direction, even though the outcome was disappointing. De Guichen in [434] one of his battles with Rodney adjusted his fleet's course to take advantage of the wind when the afternoon breeze picked up, and he succeeded. What Hughes would have done with the wind advantage can only be guessed from his own words—he wanted it to engage more closely. However, this doesn't guarantee that he would use a tactical advantage skillfully.
Suffren also illustrates, in his words to Tromelin, his conception of the duties of a second in command, which may fairly be paralleled with that of Nelson in his celebrated order before Trafalgar. In this first action he led the main attack himself, leaving the direction of what may be called the reserve—at any rate, of the second half of the assault—to his lieutenant, who, unluckily for him, was not a Collingwood, and utterly failed to support him. It is probable that Suffren's leading was due not to any particular theory, but to the fact that his ship was the best sailer in the fleet, and that the lateness of the hour and lightness of the wind made it necessary to bring the enemy to action speedily. But here appears a fault on the part of Suffren. Leading as he did involves, not necessarily but very naturally, the idea of example; and holding his own ship outside of close range, for excellent tactical reasons, led the captains in his wake naturally, almost excusably, to keep at the same distance, notwithstanding his signals. The conflict between orders and example, which cropped out so singularly at Vicksburg in our civil war, causing the misunderstanding and estrangement of two gallant officers, should not be permitted to occur. It is the business of a chief to provide against such misapprehensions by most careful previous explanation of both the letter and spirit of his plans. Especially is this so at sea, where smoke, slack wind, and intervening rigging make signals hard to read, though they are almost the only means of communication. This was Nelson's practice; nor was Suffren a stranger to the idea. "Dispositions well concerted with those who are to carry them out are needed," he wrote to D'Estaing, three years before. The excuse which may be pleaded for [435]those who followed him, and engaged, cannot avail for the rear ships, and especially not for the second in command, who knew Suffren's plans. He should have compelled the rear ships to take position to leeward, leading himself, if necessary. There was wind enough; for two captains actually engaged to leeward, one of them without orders, acting, through the impulse of his own good will and courage, on Nelson's saying, "No captain can do very wrong who places his ship alongside that of an enemy." He received the special commendation of Suffren, in itself an honor and a reward. Whether the failure of so many of his fellows was due to inefficiency, or to a spirit of faction and disloyalty, is unimportant to the general military writer, however interesting to French officers jealous for the honor of their service. Suffren's complaints, after several disappointments, became vehement.
Suffren also shows, in his words to Tromelin, his view of the responsibilities of a second-in-command, which can be fairly compared to Nelson’s famous order before Trafalgar. In this first action, he led the main attack himself, leaving the management of what could be called the reserve—at least, the second half of the assault—to his lieutenant, who, unfortunately for him, was not a Collingwood and completely failed to support him. It’s likely that Suffren's leadership wasn’t based on any specific theory but on the fact that his ship was the best sailor in the fleet, and the late hour and light wind made it necessary to engage the enemy quickly. However, here lies a mistake on Suffren's part. By leading as he did, it naturally conveys the idea of setting an example; and by keeping his own ship out of close range, for very good tactical reasons, he led the captains following him to understandably, almost justifiably, maintain the same distance, despite his signals. The clash between orders and example, which emerged so notably at Vicksburg in our civil war, leading to misunderstandings and conflict between two brave officers, should not be allowed to happen. It is a leader’s responsibility to prevent such misunderstandings by clearly explaining both the details and the intent of his plans beforehand. This is especially true at sea, where smoke, light winds, and rigging can make signals difficult to read, even though they are nearly the only means of communication. This was Nelson's approach; Suffren was not unfamiliar with the idea. "Well-planned arrangements with those who are to implement them are essential," he wrote to D'Estaing three years earlier. The excuse that might be offered for those who followed him and engaged does not hold for the rear ships, particularly not for the second-in-command, who was aware of Suffren's plans. He should have ensured that the rear ships took position downwind, even leading himself if necessary. There was enough wind; two captains actually engaged downwind, one of them without orders, acting on his own initiative and courage, inspired by Nelson’s saying, "No captain can do very wrong who places his ship alongside that of an enemy." He received special commendation from Suffren, which in itself was an honor and a reward. Whether the failures of his fellow captains were due to incompetence or a spirit of faction and disloyalty is of little importance to the general military historian, although it may be of great interest to French officers concerned about the honor of their service. After several disappointments, Suffren's complaints became intense.
"My heart," wrote he, "is wrung by the most general defection. I have just lost the opportunity of destroying the English squadron.... All—yes, all—might have got near, since we were to windward and ahead, and none did so. Several among them had behaved bravely in other combats. I can only attribute this horror to the wish to bring the cruise to an end, to ill-will, and to ignorance; for I dare not suspect anything worse. The result has been terrible. I must tell you, Monseigneur, that officers who have been long at the Isle of France are neither seamen nor military men. Not seamen, for they have not been at sea; and the trading temper, independent and insubordinate, is absolutely opposed to the military spirit."
"My heart," he wrote, "is crushed by the widespread failure. I've just missed the chance to destroy the English fleet.... All—yes, all—could have approached, since we were upwind and ahead, and none did. Some among them had fought bravely in other battles. I can only blame this disaster on the desire to end the mission, bad intentions, and ignorance; for I can’t imagine anything worse. The outcome has been awful. I must tell you, Monseigneur, that officers who have been at the Isle of France for a long time are neither sailors nor military personnel. They aren’t sailors because they haven’t been at sea; and their independent and unruly trading mindset is completely against the military spirit."
This letter, written after his fourth battle with Hughes, must be taken with allowance. Not only does it appear that Suffren himself, hurried away on this last occasion by his eagerness, was partly responsible for the disorder of his fleet, but there were other circumstances, and above all the character of some of the officers blamed, which made the charge of a general disaffection excessive. On the other hand, it remains true that after four general actions, with superior numbers on the part of the French, under a chief of the skill and ardor of Suffren, the English squadron, to use his own [436]plaintive expression, "still existed;" not only so, but had not lost a single ship. The only conclusion that can be drawn is that of a French naval writer: "Quantity disappeared before quality."[175] It is immaterial whether the defect was due to inefficiency or disaffection.
This letter, written after his fourth battle with Hughes, should be viewed with some caution. It seems that Suffren himself, hurrying away in his eagerness during this last encounter, played a part in causing disorder within his fleet. Additionally, there were other factors at play, especially the traits of some of the officers who were blamed, which made the claim of widespread discontent seem exaggerated. However, it's still true that after four major battles, with the French having superior numbers and under the leadership of someone as skilled and passionate as Suffren, the English squadron, to use his own [436]sorrowful expression, "still existed;" not only that, but they had not lost a single ship. The only reasonable conclusion is that of a French naval writer: "Quantity disappeared before quality."[175] It doesn't matter whether the problem was caused by inefficiency or discontent.
The inefficiency which showed itself on the field of battle disappeared in the general conduct of the campaign where the qualities of the chief alone told. The battle of February 17th ended with a shift of wind to the southeast at six P.M., after two hours action. The English were thus brought to windward, and their van ships enabled to share in the fight. Night falling, Suffren, at half-past six, hauled his squadron by the wind on the starboard tack, heading northeast, while Hughes steered south under easy sail. It is said by Captain Chevalier, of the French navy, that Suffren intended to renew the fight next day. In that case he should have taken measures to keep within reach. It was too plainly Hughes's policy not to fight without some advantage,—to allow the supposition that with one ship, the "Exeter," lost to him through the concentration of so many enemies upon her, he would quietly await an attack. This is so plain as to make it probable that Suffren saw sufficient reason, in the results to his fleet and the misconduct of his officers, not to wish to renew action at once. The next morning the two fleets were out of sight of each other. The continuance of the north wind, and the crippled state of two of his ships, forced Hughes to go to Trincomalee, where the sheltered harbor allowed them to repair. Suffren, anxious about his transports, went to Pondicherry, where he anchored in their company. It was his wish then to proceed against Negapatam; but the commander of the troops chose to act against Cuddalore. After negotiations and arrangements with Hyder Ali the army landed south of Porto Novo, and marched against Cuddalore, which surrendered on the 4th of April.
The inefficiency seen on the battlefield disappeared in the overall conduct of the campaign, where the qualities of the commander stood out. The battle on February 17th ended when the wind shifted to the southeast at six PM, after two hours of fighting. This change put the English at a disadvantage, allowing their leading ships to join the battle. As night fell, Suffren, at six-thirty, adjusted his squadron to head northeast, while Hughes steered south with his sails relaxed. Captain Chevalier of the French navy claimed that Suffren planned to resume the fight the next day. If that was true, he should have taken steps to stay close. It was obvious that Hughes's strategy was to avoid fighting unless he had some advantage; he created the impression that he would await an attack after losing one ship, the "Exeter," due to the concentration of numerous enemies. It seems likely that Suffren recognized enough reasons, based on his fleet's condition and the failures of his officers, to avoid renewing the battle immediately. The next morning, the two fleets were out of sight of each other. The continued north wind and the damaged state of two of Hughes's ships forced him to head to Trincomalee, where the sheltered harbor allowed for repairs. Worried about his transports, Suffren went to Pondicherry, where he anchored alongside them. He intended to move against Negapatam, but the troop commander decided to take action against Cuddalore. After negotiations and arrangements with Hyder Ali, the army landed south of Porto Novo and marched toward Cuddalore, which surrendered on April 4th.
Meanwhile Suffren, anxious to act against his principal objective, had sailed again on the 23d of March. It was his [437]hope to cut off two ships-of-the-line which were expected from England. For this he was too late; the two seventy-fours joined the main body at Madras, March 30th. Hughes had refitted at Trincomalee in a fortnight, and reached Madras again on the 12th of March. Soon after the reinforcement had joined him, he sailed again for Trincomalee with troops and military stores for the garrison. On the 8th of April Suffren's squadron was seen to the northeast, also standing to the southward. Hughes kept on, through that and the two following days, with light northerly winds. On the 11th he made the coast of Ceylon, fifty miles north of Trincomalee, and bore away for the port. On the morning of the 12th the French squadron in the northeast was seen crowding sail in pursuit. It was the day on which Rodney and De Grasse met in the West Indies, but the parts were reversed; here the French, not the English, sought action.
Meanwhile, Suffren, eager to pursue his main objective, set sail again on March 23rd. He hoped to intercept two ships-of-the-line expected from England. Unfortunately, he was too late; the two seventy-fours joined the main fleet at Madras on March 30th. Hughes had refitted at Trincomalee in just two weeks and arrived back at Madras on March 12th. Soon after the reinforcements arrived, he set out again for Trincomalee with troops and military supplies for the garrison. On April 8th, Suffren's squadron was spotted to the northeast, heading south. Hughes continued on for that day and the next two, with light northerly winds. On the 11th, he reached the coast of Ceylon, fifty miles north of Trincomalee, and headed towards the port. On the morning of the 12th, the French squadron in the northeast was seen making sail in pursuit. It was the day when Rodney and De Grasse met in the West Indies, but the roles were reversed; here, the French, not the English, were looking for action.
The speed of the ships in both squadrons was very unequal; each had some coppered ships and some not coppered. Hughes found that his slow sailers could not escape the fastest of his enemy,—a condition which will always compel a retreating force to hazard an action, unless it can resolve to give up the rear ships, and which makes it imperative for the safety, as well as the efficiency, of a squadron that vessels of the same class should all have a certain minimum speed. The same cause—the danger of a separated ship—led the unwilling De Grasse, the same day, in another scene, to a risky manœuvre and a great mishap. Hughes, with better reason, resolved to fight; and at nine A.M. formed his line on the starboard tack, standing in-shore (Plate XV., A), the squadron in good order, with intervals of two cables between the ships.[176] His account, which again varies from that of Suffren, giving a radically different idea of the tactics used by the French commodore, and more to the credit of the latter's skill, will first be followed. He says:—
The speeds of the ships in both squadrons were very different; some had copper hulls and some didn't. Hughes realized that his slower ships couldn't outrun the fastest of the enemy—this situation will always force a retreating force to take risks in battle unless they decide to abandon the slower ships. It’s crucial for the safety and effectiveness of a squadron that vessels of the same type have a minimum speed. The same issue—the risk of a ship getting separated—led the hesitant De Grasse, on the same day, to make a risky maneuver that resulted in a major mishap. Hughes, with better reasoning, decided to engage in battle; at nine AM, he positioned his line on the starboard tack, moving inshore (Plate XV., A), with the squadron well-organized, leaving two cables of space between the ships.[176] His account, which again differs from Suffren's, offers a very different view of the tactics employed by the French commodore and highlights the latter's skill more positively; this account will be followed first. He states:—
"The enemy, bearing north by east, distant six miles, with wind at north by east, continued manœuvring their ships and changing [438]their positions in line, till fifteen minutes past noon, when they bore away (a) to engage us, five sail of their van stretching along (b) to engage the ships of our van, and the other seven sail (b’) steering directly on our three centre ships, the 'Superbe,' the 'Monmouth,' her second ahead, and the 'Monarca,' her second astern. At half-past one the engagement began in the van of both squadrons; three minutes after, I made the signal for battle. The French admiral in the 'Héros' and his second astern in 'L'Orient' (both seventy-fours) bore down on the 'Superbe'[177] within pistol-shot. The 'Héros' continued in her position, giving and receiving a severe fire for nine minutes, and then stood on, greatly damaged, to attack the 'Monmouth,' at that time engaged with another of the enemy's ships, making room for the ships in his rear to come up to the attack of our centre, where the engagement was hottest. At three the 'Monmouth' had her mizzen-mast shot away, and in a few minutes her mainmast, and bore out of the line to leeward (C, c); and at forty minutes past three the wind unexpectedly continuing far northerly without any sea-breeze, and being careful not to entangle our ships with the land, I made signal to wear and haul by the wind in a line-of-battle on the larboard tack, still engaging the enemy."
"The enemy, located six miles to the north-east with the wind coming from north-east, kept maneuvering their ships and shifting their positions in line until fifteen minutes past noon, when they moved in (a) to engage us, five ships from their front stretching out (b) to engage our front ships, and the other seven ships (b’) heading straight for our three center ships, the 'Superbe,' the 'Monmouth,' its second in front, and the 'Monarca,' its second behind. At half-past one, the fighting started in the front of both fleets; three minutes later, I signaled for battle. The French admiral in the 'Héros' and his second behind in 'L'Orient' (both seventy-fours) moved towards the 'Superbe' within pistol range. The 'Héros' held its position, exchanging heavy fire for nine minutes, then moved on, significantly damaged, to attack the 'Monmouth,' which was then engaged with another enemy ship, allowing the ships behind to come up and attack our center, where the fighting was fiercest. By three o'clock, the 'Monmouth' had its mizzen-mast shot off, and within a few minutes, her mainmast went down, forcing her to move out of the line to the leeward (C, c); and at forty minutes past three, with the wind unexpectedly still coming strongly from the north without any sea breeze, and being careful not to get our ships caught with the shore, I signaled to turn and lace up by the wind in a line of battle on the port tack, while still engaging the enemy."
Now here, practically, was concentration with a vengeance. In this, the hardest fight between these two hard fighters, the English loss was 137 killed and 430 wounded in eleven ships. Of this total, the two centre ships, the flag-ship and her next ahead, lost 104 killed and 198 wounded,—fifty-three per cent of the entire loss of the squadron, of which they formed eighteen per cent. The casualties were very much heavier, in proportion to the size of the ships, than those of the leaders of the two columns at Trafalgar.[178] The material injury to hulls, spars, etc., was yet more serious. The English squadron, by this concentration of the enemy upon a small fraction of it, was entirely crippled. Inferior when the action began, [439]its inferiority was yet more decisive by the subtraction of two ships, and Suffren's freedom to move was increased.
Now here was serious concentration. In this intense battle between these two fierce fighters, the English suffered 137 killed and 430 wounded from eleven ships. Of this total, the two central ships, the flagship and the one in front of it, accounted for 104 killed and 198 wounded—fifty-three percent of the squadron's total loss, although they made up only eighteen percent of it. The casualties were significantly heavier, relative to the size of the ships, than those of the leaders of the two columns at Trafalgar.[178] The physical damage to the hulls, masts, etc., was even more severe. The English squadron, focused on by the enemy on a small part of it, was completely crippled. Outmatched when the action began, [439]its disadvantage became even more pronounced with the loss of two ships, giving Suffren more freedom to maneuver.
But how far was this concentration intended by Suffren? For this we must go to the pages of two French writers,[179] who base their narratives upon his own despatches on record in the French Marine Office. The practical advantage gained by the French must also be tested by comparing the lists of casualties, and the injuries received by their individual ships; for it is evident that if both the squadrons received the same total amount of injury, but that with the English it fell on two ships, so that they could not be ready for action for a month or more, while with the French the damage was divided among the twelve, allowing them to be ready again in a few days, the victory tactically and strategically would rest with the latter.[180]
But how much of this concentration was actually planned by Suffren? To find out, we need to look at the works of two French writers,[179] who base their accounts on his own reports archived in the French Marine Office. The tangible benefits gained by the French should also be assessed by comparing the casualty lists and the damage sustained by their individual ships; it’s clear that if both fleets suffered the same total amount of damage, but the English losses were concentrated on two ships, making them unable to fight for a month or more, while the French damage was spread among the twelve, allowing them to be operational again in a few days, then the tactical and strategic victory would belong to the latter.[180]
As regards Suffren's purpose, there is nothing to indicate that he meant to make such an attack as Hughes describes. Having twelve ships to the English eleven, his intention seems to have been to pursue the usual English practice,—form line parallel to the enemy, bear down together, and engage ship to ship. To this he added one simple combination; the twelfth French ship, being unprovided with an opponent, was to engage the rear English ship on her lee side, placing her thus between two fires. In truth, a concentration upon the van and centre, such as Hughes describes, is tactically inferior to a like effort upon the centre and rear of a column. This is true of steamers even, which, though less liable to loss of motive power, must still turn round to get from van to rear, losing many valuable seconds; but it is specially true of sailing vessels, and above all in the light, baffling airs which are apt to mark the change of monsoon at the season when this fight was fought. Nelson emphasized his contempt of the Russians of his day by saying he would not hesitate to attack their van, counting upon throwing the [440]whole line in confusion from their want of seamanship; but though entertaining a not much better opinion of the Spaniards, he threw the weight of attack on the rear of the allied fleets at Trafalgar. In dealing with such seamen as the captains of Hughes's fleet, it would have been an error to assail the van instead of the rear. Only a dead calm could have kept the latter out of action.
As for Suffren's intentions, there's nothing to suggest that he planned the kind of attack described by Hughes. With twelve ships against the English eleven, it seems his goal was to follow the typical English strategy—line up parallel to the enemy, charge in together, and engage ship to ship. He added one straightforward tactic; since the twelfth French ship had no direct opponent, it would target the rear English ship on its leeward side, putting it between two attacks. In reality, focusing on the front and center, as Hughes suggests, is a weaker tactic compared to concentrating on the center and rear of a column. This applies even to steamships, which, while less likely to lose power, still have to turn around to move from the front to the rear, wasting valuable seconds. It's especially true for sailing ships, particularly in light, unpredictable winds that often occur during the monsoon season when this battle took place. Nelson showed his disdain for the Russians of his time by saying he wouldn't hesitate to attack their front, believing their lack of seamanship would throw the whole line into disarray; however, even though he held a similarly low opinion of the Spaniards, he focused his attack on the rear of the allied fleets at Trafalgar. Against sailors like the captains of Hughes's fleet, it would have been a mistake to attack the front instead of the rear. Only a complete calm could have kept the rear out of the fight.
Suffren's attack is thus described by Captain Chevalier. After mentioning Hughes's forming line on the starboard tack, he says:—
Suffren's attack is described here by Captain Chevalier. After noting that Hughes formed a line on the starboard tack, he states:—
"This manœuvre was imitated by the French, and the two squadrons ran on parallel lines, heading about west-northwest (A, A). At eleven, our line being well formed, Suffren made signal to keep away to west-southwest, by a movement all together. Our ships did not keep their bearing upon the prescribed line, and the van, composed of the best sailers, came first within range of the enemy.[181] At one, the leading ships of the English fleet opened fire upon the 'Vengeur' and 'Artésien' [French van]. These two ships, having luffed[182] to return the fire, were at once ordered to keep away again. Suffren, who wished for a decisive action, kept his course, receiving without reply the shots directed upon his ship by the enemy. When at pistol-range of the 'Superbe,' he hauled to the wind (B), and the signal to open fire appeared at his mainmast head. Admiral Hughes having only eleven ships, the 'Bizarre,' according to the dispositions taken by the commander-in-chief, was to attack on the quarter the rear ship of the English fleet and double on it to leeward. At the moment when the first cannon-shots were heard, our worst sailers were not up with their stations. Breathing the letter, and not the spirit, of the commodore's orders, the captains of these ships luffed at the same time as those which preceded them. Hence it resulted that the French line formed a curve (B), whose extremities were represented in the van by the 'Artésien' and 'Vengeur,' and in the rear by the 'Bizarre,' 'Ajax,' and 'Sévère.' In consequence, these ships were very far from those which corresponded to them in the enemy's line."
"This maneuver was copied by the French, and the two squadrons moved in parallel lines, heading roughly west-northwest (A, A). At eleven, with our line well formed, Suffren signaled to steer west-southwest all together. Our ships did not stay on the designated line, and the lead ships, which were the best sailors, came first within range of the enemy.[181] At one, the leading ships of the English fleet opened fire on the 'Vengeur' and 'Artésien' [French lead]. These two ships, having turned to return fire, were immediately ordered to steer away again. Suffren, wanting a decisive battle, kept his course, receiving the enemy's shots without responding. When he was at pistol range of the 'Superbe,' he sailed into the wind (B), and the signal to open fire was displayed at his mainmast. Admiral Hughes had only eleven ships; the 'Bizarre,' based on the plans made by the commander-in-chief, was to attack the last ship of the English fleet from the side and double up on it to leeward. At the moment the first cannon shots were heard, our worst sailing ships were not in their positions. Following the letter but not the spirit of the commodore's orders, the captains of these ships turned into the wind at the same time as those in front of them. As a result, the French line formed a curve (B), with the ends represented in the front by the 'Artésien' and 'Vengeur,' and in the back by the 'Bizarre,' 'Ajax,' and 'Sévère.' Consequently, these ships were very far from their corresponding positions in the enemy's line."
It is evident from all this, written by a warm admirer of Suffren, who has had full access to the official papers, that [441]the French chief intended an attack elementary in conception and difficult of execution. To keep a fleet on a line of bearing, sailing free, requires much drill, especially when the ships have different rates of speed, as had Suffren's. The extreme injury suffered by the "Superbe" and "Monmouth," undeniably due to a concentration, cannot be attributed to Suffren's dispositions. "The injuries which the 'Héros' received at the beginning of the action did not allow her to remain by the 'Superbe.' Not being able to back her topsails in time, the braces having been cut, she passed ahead, and was only stopped on the beam of the 'Monmouth.'"[183] This accounts for the suffering of the latter ship, already injured, and now contending with a much larger opponent. The "Superbe" was freed from Suffren only to be engaged by the next Frenchman, an equally heavy ship; and when the "Monmouth" drifted or bore up, to leeward, the French flag-ship also drifted so that for a few moments she fired her stern guns into the "Superbe's" bow (C, d). The latter at the same time was engaged on the beam and quarter by two French ships, who, either with or without signal, came up to shield their commodore.
It's clear from all this, written by a keen admirer of Suffren who had full access to the official documents, that [441]the French commander planned an attack that was simple in idea but challenging to carry out. Keeping a fleet on a specific course while sailing freely requires a lot of practice, especially when the ships have different speeds, which was the case for Suffren's fleet. The serious damage suffered by the "Superbe" and "Monmouth," clearly caused by a concentration of fire, cannot be blamed on Suffren's strategy. "The damage the 'Héros' took at the start of the battle prevented her from staying close to the 'Superbe.' Unable to back her topsails in time because the braces were cut, she moved ahead and was only stopped by the beam of the 'Monmouth.'"[183] This explains the plight of the latter ship, which was already damaged and now facing a much larger opponent. The "Superbe" was released from Suffren's command only to engage the next French ship, which was equally large; and when the "Monmouth" drifted or moved up, to leeward, the French flagship also drifted, firing its stern guns into the "Superbe's" bow for a few moments (C, d). At the same time, the "Superbe" was also under attack on the beam and quarter by two French ships, which, whether with or without a signal, came up to support their commodore.
An examination of the list of casualties shows that the loss of the French was much more distributed among their ships than was the case with the English. No less than three of the latter escaped without a man killed, while of the French only one. The kernel of the action seems to have been in the somewhat fortuitous concentration of two French seventy-fours and one sixty-four on an English seventy-four and sixty-four. Assuming the ships to have been actually of the same force as their rates, the French brought, counting broadside only, one hundred and six guns against sixty-nine.
Analyzing the list of casualties shows that the French suffered losses more spread out among their ships compared to the English. No less than three English ships escaped without any crew members killed, while only one French ship did. The core of the conflict seems to have been the somewhat random concentration of two French seventy-fours and one sixty-four against an English seventy-four and sixty-four. Assuming the ships were actually as powerful as their ratings suggest, the French had, considering broadside fire only, one hundred and six guns against sixty-nine.
Some unfavorable criticism was excited by the management of Admiral Hughes during the three days preceding the fight, because he refrained from attacking the French, although they were for much of the time to leeward with only one ship more than the English, and much separated at that. It was thought that he had the opportunity of beating them in detail.[184] [442]The accounts accessible are too meagre to permit an accurate judgment upon this opinion, which probably reflected the mess-table and quarter-deck talk of the subordinate officers of the fleet. Hughes's own report of the position of the two fleets is vague, and in one important particular directly contradictory to the French. If the alleged opportunity offered, the English admiral in declining to use it adhered to the resolve, with which he sailed, neither to seek nor shun the enemy, but to go directly to Trincomalee and land the troops and supplies he had on board. In other words, he was governed in his action by the French rather than the English naval policy, of subordinating the attack of the enemy's fleet to the particular mission in hand. If for this reason he did allow a favorable chance of fighting to slip, he certainly had reason bitterly to regret his neglect, in the results of the battle which followed; but in the lack of precise information the most interesting point to be noted is the impression made upon public and professional opinion, indicating how strongly the English held that the attack of the enemy's fleet was the first duty of an English admiral. It may also be said that he could hardly have fared worse by attacking than he did by allowing the enemy to become the assailant; and certainly not worse than he would have fared had Suffren's captains been as good as his own.
Some negative criticism arose regarding Admiral Hughes's management in the three days leading up to the battle because he didn't attack the French, even though they were mostly downwind with only one more ship than the English, and they were quite spread out. Many believed he had a chance to defeat them one by one.[184] [442]The available reports are too limited to form a clear judgment on this view, which likely reflected the discussions among subordinate officers at the mess table and on the quarter-deck. Hughes's own report about the positions of the two fleets is unclear, and in one significant detail, it contradicts the French account. If the rumored opportunity was real, then by choosing not to act on it, the English admiral remained committed to his initial decision: neither to seek out nor avoid the enemy but to proceed directly to Trincomalee to land the troops and supplies he had aboard. In other words, his actions were guided by French rather than English naval policy, which prioritized the specific mission over engaging the enemy's fleet. If he did miss a favorable chance to fight for this reason, he surely had cause to regret his inaction given the results of the ensuing battle; however, the key takeaway in light of the lack of precise information is the impression created among the public and professionals, highlighting how strongly the English believed that attacking the enemy's fleet was the primary duty of an English admiral. It could also be argued that he would hardly have fared worse by attacking than he did by letting the enemy take the initiative; and certainly not worse than if Suffren's captains had been as skilled as his own.
After the action, towards sunset, both squadrons anchored in fifteen fathoms of water, irregular soundings, three of the French ships taking the bottom on coral patches. Here they lay for a week two miles apart, refitting. Hughes, from the ruined condition of the "Monmouth," expected an attack; but when Suffren had finished his repairs on the 19th, he got under way and remained outside for twenty-four hours, inviting a battle which he would not begin. He realized the condition of the enemy so keenly as to feel the necessity of justifying his action to the Minister of Marine, which he did for eight reasons unnecessary to particularize here. The last was the lack of efficiency and hearty support on the part of his captains.
After the action, around sunset, both squadrons anchored in fifteen fathoms of water, with irregular soundings, and three of the French ships grounded on coral patches. They stayed there for a week, two miles apart, making repairs. Hughes, seeing the poor condition of the "Monmouth," expected an attack; but when Suffren finished his repairs on the 19th, he set out and stayed outside for twenty-four hours, inviting a battle that he wouldn’t start. He was so aware of the enemy's condition that he felt the need to justify his actions to the Minister of Marine, which he did for eight reasons that don’t need to be detailed here. The last reason was the lack of efficiency and support from his captains.
[443]It is not likely that Suffren erred on the side of excessive caution. On the contrary, his most marked defect as a commander-in-chief was an ardor which, when in sight of the enemy, became impatience, and carried him at times into action hastily and in disorder. But if, in the details and execution of his battles, in his tactical combinations, Suffren was at times foiled by his own impetuosity and the short-comings of most of his captains, in the general conduct of the campaign, in strategy, where the personal qualities of the commander-in-chief mainly told, his superiority was manifest, and achieved brilliant success. Then ardor showed itself in energy, untiring and infectious. The eagerness of his hot Provençal blood overrode difficulty, created resources out of destitution, and made itself felt through every vessel under his orders. No military lesson is more instructive nor of more enduring value than the rapidity and ingenuity with which he, without a port or supplies, continually refitted his fleet and took the field, while his slower enemy was dawdling over his repairs.
[443]It's unlikely that Suffren made mistakes due to being overly cautious. On the contrary, his biggest flaw as a commander was his enthusiasm, which, when facing the enemy, turned into impatience and sometimes led him to act too quickly and chaotically. However, although his impulsiveness and the shortcomings of many of his captains sometimes hindered him in the details and execution of his battles, he clearly demonstrated his superiority in the overall direction of the campaign and strategy, achieving brilliant success. His zeal transformed into relentless and inspiring energy. The eagerness of his passionate Provençal spirit overcame challenges, created resources from nothing, and resonated across every ship under his command. No military lesson is more insightful or valuable than the speed and creativity with which he continuously refitted his fleet and took action without a port or supplies, while his slower enemy was dragging on with repairs.
The battle forced the English to remain inactive for six weeks, till the "Monmouth" was repaired. Unfortunately, Suffren's situation did not allow him to assume the offensive at once. He was short of men, provisions, and especially of spare spars and rigging. In an official letter after the action he wrote: "I have no spare stores to repair rigging; the squadron lacks at least twelve spare topmasts." A convoy of supply-ships was expected at Point de Galles, which, with the rest of Ceylon, except Trincomalee, was still Dutch. He therefore anchored at Batacalo, south of Trincomalee, a position in which he was between Hughes and outward-bound English ships, and was favorably placed to protect his own convoys, which joined him there. On the 3d of June he sailed for Tranquebar, a Danish possession, where he remained two or three weeks, harassing the English communications between Madras and the fleet at Trincomalee. Leaving there, he sailed for Cuddalore, to communicate with the commander of the land forces and Hyder Ali. The latter was found to be much [444]discontented with the scanty co-operation of the French general. Suffren, however, had won his favor, and he expressed a wish to see him on his return from the expedition then in contemplation; for, true to his accurate instinct, the commodore was bent upon again seeking out the English fleet, after beating which he intended to attack Negapatam. There was not in him any narrowness of professional prejudice; he kept always in view the necessity, both political and strategic, of nursing the alliance with the Sultan and establishing control upon the seaboard and in the interior; but he clearly recognized that the first step thereto was the control of the sea, by disabling the English fleet. The tenacity and vigor with which he followed this aim, amid great obstacles, joined to the clear-sightedness with which he saw it, are the distinguishing merits of Suffren amid the crowd of French fleet-commanders,—his equals in courage, but trammelled by the bonds of a false tradition and the perception of a false objective.
The battle forced the English to stay inactive for six weeks until the "Monmouth" was repaired. Unfortunately, Suffren's situation didn’t allow him to go on the offensive right away. He was short on crew, supplies, and especially on spare spars and rigging. In an official letter after the battle, he wrote: "I have no spare stores to repair rigging; the squadron lacks at least twelve spare topmasts." A convoy of supply ships was expected at Point de Galles, which, along with the rest of Ceylon except Trincomalee, was still under Dutch control. So, he anchored at Batacalo, south of Trincomalee, putting him between Hughes and English ships leaving the area, and allowing him to protect his own convoys, which joined him there. On June 3rd, he sailed for Tranquebar, a Danish possession, where he stayed for two or three weeks, disrupting English communications between Madras and the fleet at Trincomalee. After leaving there, he headed to Cuddalore to connect with the commander of the land forces and Hyder Ali. The latter was found to be quite discontented with the limited support from the French general. However, Suffren had gained his favor, and he expressed a desire to see him on his return from the planned expedition; because, true to his keen instincts, the commodore was determined to seek out the English fleet again, after which he planned to attack Negapatam. He didn’t harbor any narrow professional biases; he always kept in mind the need, both politically and strategically, to maintain the alliance with the Sultan and establish control along the coast and in the interior. But he clearly recognized that the first step toward this was gaining control of the sea by incapacitating the English fleet. The determination and energy with which he pursued this goal, despite significant challenges, along with his clear vision of it, are what set Suffren apart from other French fleet commanders—his peers in bravery, but limited by false traditions and misconceptions about their objectives.
Hughes meantime, having rigged jury-masts to the "Monmouth," had gone to Trincomalee, where his squadron refitted and the sick were landed for treatment; but it is evident, as has before been mentioned, that the English had not held the port long enough to make an arsenal or supply port, for he says, "I will be able to remast the 'Monmouth' from the spare stores on board the several ships." His resources were nevertheless superior to those of his adversary. During the time that Suffren was at Tranquebar, worrying the English communications between Madras and Trincomalee, Hughes still stayed quietly in the latter port, sailing for Negapatam on the 23d of June, the day after Suffren reached Cuddalore. The two squadrons had thus again approached each other, and Suffren hastened his preparations for attack as soon as he heard that his enemy was where he could get at him. Hughes awaited his movement.
Hughes, in the meantime, having set up jury-masts on the "Monmouth," went to Trincomalee, where his squadron got repairs and the sick were taken ashore for treatment. However, it's clear, as mentioned earlier, that the English hadn't held the port long enough to establish an arsenal or supply port, since he stated, "I will be able to remast the 'Monmouth' from the spare stores on board the various ships." His resources were still better than those of his opponent. While Suffren was at Tranquebar, disrupting the English supply lines between Madras and Trincomalee, Hughes remained calmly in the latter port, setting sail for Negapatam on June 23, the day after Suffren arrived in Cuddalore. Thus, the two squadrons were close to each other again, and Suffren quickly stepped up his preparations to attack as soon as he learned that his enemy was vulnerable. Hughes was waiting for his move.
Before sailing, however, Suffren took occasion to say in writing home: "Since my arrival in Ceylon, partly by the help of the Dutch, partly through the prizes we have taken, the squadron has been equipped for six months' service, and I [445]have rations of wheat and rice assured for more than a year." This achievement was indeed a just source of pride and self-congratulation. Without a port, and destitute of resources, the French commodore had lived off the enemy; the store ships and commerce of the latter had supplied his wants. To his fertility of resource and the activity of his cruisers, inspired by himself, this result was due. Yet he had but two frigates, the class of vessel upon which an admiral must mainly depend for this predatory warfare. On the 23d of March, both provisions and stores had been nearly exhausted. Six thousand dollars in money, and the provisions in the convoy, were then his sole resources. Since then he had fought a severe action, most expensive in rigging and men, as well as in ammunition. After that fight of April 12 he had left only powder and shot enough for one other battle of equal severity. Three months later he was able to report as above, that he could keep the sea on his station for six months without further supplies. This result was due wholly to himself,—to his self-reliance, and what may without exaggeration be called his greatness of soul. It was not expected at Paris; on the contrary, it was expected there that the squadron would return to the Isle of France to refit. It was not thought possible that it could remain on a hostile coast, so far from its nearest base, and be kept in efficient condition. Suffren thought otherwise; he considered, with true military insight and a proper sense of the value of his own profession, that the success of the operations in India depended upon the control of the sea, and therefore upon the uninterrupted presence of his squadron. He did not shrink from attempting that which had always been thought impossible. This firmness of spirit, bearing the stamp of genius, must, to be justly appreciated, be considered with reference to the circumstances of his own time, and of the preceding generations in which he grew up.
Before sailing, however, Suffren took the opportunity to write home: "Since my arrival in Ceylon, partly thanks to the Dutch and partly through the prizes we've captured, the squadron has been equipped for six months of service, and I [445]have food supplies of wheat and rice secured for over a year." This accomplishment was indeed a legitimate source of pride and self-congratulation. Without a port and lacking resources, the French commodore had relied on the enemy; the supply ships and trade of the latter had met his needs. This result was due to his resourcefulness and the initiative of his cruisers, motivated by him. Yet he had only two frigates, the type of vessel an admiral primarily depends on for this kind of warfare. By March 23rd, both provisions and supplies were nearly depleted. Six thousand dollars in cash and the provisions in the convoy were his only resources. Since then, he had fought a tough battle, which was costly in terms of rigging, manpower, and ammunition. After the fight on April 12th, he was left with just enough powder and shot for one more battle of equal intensity. Three months later, he was able to report that he could sustain his position at sea for six months without additional supplies. This achievement was entirely his—for his self-reliance and what can without exaggeration be described as his greatness of spirit. This was not expected in Paris; in fact, it was anticipated that the squadron would return to the Isle of France for repairs. It was thought impossible for them to remain on a hostile coast so far from their nearest base and still be kept in efficient condition. Suffren saw it differently; he understood, with true military insight and a proper appreciation for the significance of his own role, that the success of operations in India depended on control of the sea and thus needed the constant presence of his squadron. He did not shy away from attempting what had always been deemed impossible. This determination, marked by genius, must be evaluated within the context of his own time and the previous generations in which he grew up.
Suffren was born July 17, 1729, and served during the wars of 1739 and 1756. He was first under fire at Matthews's action off Toulon, February 22, 1744. He was the contemporary of D'Estaing, De Guichen, and De Grasse, before the [446]days of the French Revolution, when the uprising of a people had taught men how often impossibilities are not impossible; before Napoleon and Nelson had made a mock of the word. His attitude and action had therefore at the time the additional merit of originality, but his lofty temper was capable of yet higher proof. Convinced of the necessity of keeping the squadron on its station, he ventured to disregard not only the murmurs of his officers but the express orders of the Court. When he reached Batacalo, he found despatches directing him to return to the Isle of France. Instead of taking them as a release from the great burden of responsibility, he disobeyed, giving his reasons, and asserting that he on the spot could judge better than a minister in Europe what the circumstances demanded. Such a leader deserved better subordinates, and a better colleague than he had in the commander of the forces on shore. Whether or no the conditions of the general maritime struggle would have permitted the overthrow of the English East Indian power may be doubtful; but it is certain that among all the admirals of the three nations there was none so fitted to accomplish that result as Suffren. We shall find him enduring severer tests, and always equal to them.
Suffren was born on July 17, 1729, and served during the wars of 1739 and 1756. He first faced combat at Matthews's battle off Toulon on February 22, 1744. He was a contemporary of D'Estaing, De Guichen, and De Grasse, before the [446] days of the French Revolution, when the uprising of the people showed that many things thought impossible were actually achievable; before Napoleon and Nelson had made a joke of the term. His actions at that time had the added value of originality, but his high ambition was capable of even greater feats. Believing in the importance of keeping the squadron in its position, he dared to ignore not just the complaints of his officers but also the direct orders from the Court. When he arrived at Batacalo, he found dispatches instructing him to return to the Isle of France. Instead of seeing this as an opportunity to shed the heavy burden of responsibility, he disobeyed, explaining his reasoning and stating that he was more qualified to judge the situation on the spot than a minister back in Europe. A leader like him deserved better subordinates and a better colleague than what he had in the commander of the forces on shore. Whether the overall conditions of the maritime conflict would have allowed for the defeat of the English East India power might be uncertain, but one thing is clear: among all the admirals of the three nations, none was better suited to achieve that goal than Suffren. We will see him facing tougher challenges and consistently rising to meet them.
In the afternoon of the 5th of July Suffren's squadron came in sight of the English, anchored off Cuddalore. An hour later, a sudden squall carried away the main and mizzen topmasts of one of the French ships. Admiral Hughes got under way, and the two fleets manœuvred during the night. The following day the wind favored the English, and the opponents found themselves in line of battle on the starboard tack, heading south-southeast, with the wind at southwest. The disabled French ship having by unpardonable inactivity failed to repair her injuries, the numbers about to engage were equal,—eleven on each side. At eleven A.M. the English bore down together and engaged ship against ship; but as was usual under those conditions, the rear ships did not come to as close action as those ahead of them (Plate XVI., Position I.). Captain Chevalier carefully points out that their failure was a fair [447]offset to the failure of the French rear on the 12th of April,[185] but fails to note in this connection that the French van, both on that occasion and again on the 3d of September, bungled as well as the rear. There can remain little doubt, in the mind of the careful reader, that most of the French captains were inferior, as seamen, to their opponents. During this part of the engagement the fourth ship in the French order, the "Brilliant" (a), lost her mainmast, bore up out of the line (a’), and dropped gradually astern and to leeward (a’’)
In the afternoon of July 5th, Suffren's squadron spotted the English fleet anchored off Cuddalore. An hour later, a sudden storm took down the main and mizzen topmasts of one of the French ships. Admiral Hughes set sail, and the two fleets maneuvered throughout the night. The next day, the wind was in favor of the English, and both sides found themselves in battle formation on the starboard tack, heading south-southeast, with the wind coming from the southwest. The damaged French ship, due to inexcusable inactivity, had not fixed her issues, so both sides had equal numbers—eleven ships each. At 11 AM the English advanced together and engaged ship against ship; however, as was typical in these situations, the ships at the back did not engage as closely as those at the front (Plate XVI., Position I.). Captain Chevalier notes that their failure was a fair [447]counter to the French rear's failure on April 12th,[185] but does not mention that the French van, on both that occasion and again on September 3rd, performed poorly just like the rear. There is little doubt for the careful reader that most of the French captains were not as skilled as their opponents. During this part of the battle, the fourth ship in the French line, the "Brilliant" (a), lost her mainmast, veered out of line (a’), and gradually fell behind and to leeward (aLeave it.’).
At one P.M., when the action was hottest, the wind suddenly shifted to south-southeast, taking the ships on the port bow (Position II.). Four English ships, the "Burford," "Sultan" (s), "Worcester," and "Eagle," seeing the breeze coming, kept off to port, toward the French line; the others were taken aback and paid off to starboard. The French ships, on the other hand, with two exceptions, the "Brilliant" (a) and "Sévère" (b), paid off from the English. The effect of the change of wind was therefore to separate the main parts of the two squadrons, but to bring together between the lines four English and two French ships. Technical order was destroyed. The "Brilliant," having dropped far astern of her position, came under the fire of two of the English rear, the "Worcester" and the "Eagle," who had kept off in time and so neared the French. Suffren in person came to her assistance (Position III., a) and drove off the English, who were also threatened by the approach of two other French ships that had worn to the westward in obedience to signal. While this partial action was taking place, the other endangered French ship, the "Sévère" (b), was engaged by the English "Sultan" (s), and, if the French captain M. de Cillart can be believed, [448]by two other English ships. It is probable, from her place in the line, that the "Burford" also assailed her. However this may be, the "Sévère" hauled down her flag; but while the "Sultan" was wearing away from her, she resumed her fire, raking the English ship. The order to surrender, given by the French captain and carried into execution by the formal well-established token of submission, was disregarded by his subordinates, who fired upon their enemy while the flag was down. In effect, the action of the French ship amounted to using an infamous ruse de guerre; but it would be unjust to say that this was intended. The positions of the different vessels were such that the "Sultan" could not have secured her prize; other French ships were approaching and must have retaken it. The indignation of the French juniors at the weakness of their captain was therefore justified; their refusal to be bound by it may be excused to men face to face with an unexpected question of propriety, in the heat of battle and under the sting of shame. Nevertheless, scrupulous good faith would seem to demand that their deliverance should be awaited from other hands, not bound by the action of their commander; or at least that the forbearing assailant should not have suffered from them. The captain, suspended and sent home by Suffren, and cashiered by the king, utterly condemned himself by his attempted defence: "When Captain de Cillart saw the French squadron drawing off,—for all the ships except the 'Brilliant' had fallen off on the other tack,—he thought it useless to prolong his defence, and had the flag hauled down. The ships engaged with him immediately ceased their fire, and the one on the starboard side moved away. At this moment the 'Sévère' fell off to starboard and her sails filled; Captain de Cillart then ordered the fire to be resumed by his lower-deck guns, the only ones still manned, and he rejoined his squadron."[186]
At 1 PM, when the action was most intense, the wind suddenly shifted to the south-southeast, bringing the ships onto the port bow (Position II). Four British ships, the "Burford," "Sultan," "Worcester," and "Eagle," noticing the change in breeze, turned to port toward the French line; the others were taken aback and turned to starboard. The French ships, with two exceptions, the "Brilliant" and "Sévère," pulled away from the British. This wind shift effectively separated the main parts of the two squadrons, but brought together four British and two French ships between them. The technical order was disrupted. The "Brilliant," having fallen far behind her position, came under fire from two British ships at the rear, the "Worcester" and the "Eagle," which had turned away in time and gotten closer to the French. Suffren personally went to assist her (Position III, a) and drove off the British, who were also threatened by the approach of two other French ships that had turned west as per the signal. Meanwhile, the other endangered French ship, the "Sévère," was engaged by the British "Sultan," and, according to the French captain, M. de Cillart, also by two other British ships. It's likely, based on her position in the line, that the "Burford" also attacked her. Regardless, the "Sévère" lowered her flag; but as the "Sultan" was pulling away from her, she resumed firing, targeting the British ship. The order to surrender, given by the French captain and carried out by the formal gesture of surrender, was ignored by his crew, who fired at their enemy while the flag was down. Essentially, the actions of the French ship amounted to employing a shameful ruse; however, it wouldn't be fair to say this was intentional. The positions of the different vessels were such that the "Sultan" couldn't have secured her prize; other French ships were approaching and would have likely retaken it. The indignation of the younger French officers at their captain's weakness was therefore justified; their refusal to abide by it can be forgiven for those confronted with an unexpected dilemma of propriety, in the heat of battle and under the shame of the moment. Nonetheless, strict integrity would suggest that their rescue should have been awaited from others, not constrained by their commander's actions; or at least that the restrained attacker shouldn’t have been impacted by them. The captain, suspended and sent home by Suffren, and dismissed by the king, completely condemned himself with his attempted defense: "When Captain de Cillart saw the French squadron pulling away — as all the ships except the 'Brilliant' had turned away on the other tack — he thought it pointless to continue his defense and had the flag lowered. The ships fighting against him immediately stopped firing, and the one on the starboard side moved away. At that moment, the 'Sévère' fell off to starboard and her sails filled; Captain de Cillart then ordered fire to be resumed by his lower-deck guns, the only ones still manned, and he returned to his squadron."
[449]This action was the only one of the five fought by Suffren on the coast of India, in which the English admiral was the assailant. There can be found in it no indication of military conceptions, of tactical combinations; but on the other hand Hughes is continually showing the aptitudes, habits of thought, and foresight of the skilful seaman, as well as a courage beyond all proof. He was in truth an admirable representative of the average English naval officer of the middle of the eighteenth century; and while it is impossible not to condemn the general ignorance of the most important part of the profession, it is yet useful to remark how far thorough mastery of its other details, and dogged determination not to yield, made up for so signal a defect. As the Roman legions often redeemed the blunders of their generals, so did English captains and seamen often save that which had been lost by the errors of their admirals,—errors which neither captain nor seamen recognized, nor would probably have admitted. Nowhere were these solid qualities so clearly shown as in Suffren's battles, because nowhere else were such demands made upon them. No more magnificent instances of desperate yet useful resistance to overwhelming odds are to be found in naval annals, than that of the "Monmouth" on April 12, and of the "Exeter" on February 17. An incident told of the latter ship is worth quoting. "At the heel of the action, when the 'Exeter' was already in the state of a wreck, the master came to Commodore King to ask him what he should do with the ship, as two of the enemy were again bearing down upon her. He laconically answered, 'there is nothing to be done but to fight her till she sinks.'"[187] She was saved.
[449]This action was the only one of the five fought by Suffren on the coast of India where the English admiral took the offensive. It shows no signs of military strategy or tactical planning; however, Hughes consistently demonstrates the skills, mindset, and foresight of a skilled seaman, along with remarkable bravery. He was truly an excellent representation of the typical English naval officer from the mid-eighteenth century; while it is impossible not to criticize the general lack of knowledge in the most critical aspects of the profession, it’s still worth noting how a strong command of other details and relentless determination compensated for such a significant shortcoming. Just as the Roman legions often made up for their generals' mistakes, English captains and sailors frequently salvaged situations that their admirals had mishandled—mistakes that neither the captain nor the crew recognized or would likely admit. These solid qualities were most clearly displayed in Suffren's battles because nowhere else were such high demands placed on them. There are no more impressive examples of courageous but effective resistance against overwhelming odds in naval history than that of the "Monmouth" on April 12 and of the "Exeter" on February 17. One notable incident involving the latter ship is worth sharing. "At the height of the battle, when the 'Exeter' was already in ruins, the master approached Commodore King to ask what he should do with the ship, as two enemy ships were again closing in on her. He bluntly replied, 'there's nothing to do but fight her until she sinks.'"[187] She was saved.
Suffren, on the contrary, was by this time incensed beyond endurance by the misbehavior of his captains. Cillart was sent home; but besides him two others, both of them men of influential connections, and one a relative of Suffren himself, [450]were dispossessed of their commands. However necessary and proper this step, few but Suffren would have had the resolution to take it; for, so far as he then knew, he was only a captain in rank, and it was not permitted even to admirals to deal thus with their juniors. "You may perhaps be angry, Monseigneur," he wrote, "that I have not used rigor sooner; but I beg you to remember that the regulations do not give this power even to a general officer, which I am not."
Suffren, on the other hand, was by this time furious beyond measure at the misconduct of his captains. Cillart was sent home; but in addition to him, two others, both with powerful connections and one a relative of Suffren himself, [450]were stripped of their commands. While this action was necessary and justified, few, except Suffren, would have had the courage to take it; because, as far as he knew, he was just a captain in rank, and even admirals weren't allowed to treat their subordinates this way. "You might be upset, Monseigneur," he wrote, "that I didn't act more harshly sooner; but please remember that the regulations don't give this authority even to a general officer, which I'm not."
It is immediately after the action of the 6th of July that Suffren's superior energy and military capacity begin markedly to influence the issue between himself and Hughes. The tussle had been severe; but military qualities began to tell, as they surely must. The losses of the two squadrons in men, in the last action, had been as one to three in favor of the English; on the other hand, the latter had apparently suffered more in sails and spars,—in motive power. Both fleets anchored in the evening, the English off Negapatam, the French to leeward, off Cuddalore. On the 18th of July Suffren was again ready for sea; whereas on the same day Hughes had but just decided to go to Madras to finish his repairs. Suffren was further delayed by the political necessity of an official visit to Hyder Ali, after which he sailed to Batacalo, arriving there on the 9th of August, to await reinforcements and supplies from France. On the 21st, these joined him; and two days later he sailed, now with fourteen ships-of-the-line, for Trincomalee, anchoring off the town on the 25th. The following night the troops were landed, batteries thrown up, and the attack pressed with vigor. On the 30th and 31st the two forts which made the defensive strength of the place surrendered, and this all-important port passed into the hands of the French. Convinced that Hughes would soon appear, Suffren granted readily all the honors of war demanded by the governor of the place, contenting himself with the substantial gain. Two days later, on the evening of September 2d, the English fleet was sighted by the French lookout frigates.
Right after the action on July 6th, Suffren's superior energy and military skills started to significantly impact the contest between him and Hughes. The struggle had been intense, but military prowess began to show its effects, as it inevitably would. The losses for the two squadrons in personnel during the last battle were about one to three in favor of the English; however, the British seemed to have suffered more in terms of sails and spars—essentially their power. Both fleets anchored that evening, with the English off Negapatam and the French downwind, near Cuddalore. On July 18th, Suffren was ready to set sail again, while Hughes had only just decided to head to Madras to complete his repairs that same day. Suffren faced further delays due to the political necessity of an official visit to Hyder Ali, after which he departed for Batacalo, arriving on August 9th to wait for reinforcements and supplies from France. On the 21st, these arrived, and two days later, he set sail with fourteen ships-of-the-line for Trincomalee, anchoring near the town on the 25th. That night, troops were landed, batteries were erected, and an aggressive attack was launched. On the 30th and 31st, the two forts that provided the defensive strength of the location surrendered, and this crucial port fell into French hands. Convinced that Hughes would appear soon, Suffren readily granted all the honors of war requested by the local governor, satisfied with the significant gain. Two days later, on the evening of September 2nd, the French lookout frigates spotted the English fleet.
During the six weeks in which Suffren had been so actively [451]and profitably employed, the English admiral had remained quietly at anchor, repairing and refitting. No precise information is available for deciding how far this delay was unavoidable; but having in view the well-known aptitude of English seamen of that age, it can scarcely be doubted that, had Hughes possessed the untiring energy of his great rival, he could have gained the few days which decided the fate of Trincomalee, and fought a battle to save the place. In fact, this conclusion is supported by his own reports, which state that on the 12th of August the ships were nearly fitted; and yet, though apprehending an attack on Trincomalee, he did not sail until the 20th. The loss of this harbor forced him to abandon the east coast, which was made unsafe by the approach of the northeast monsoon, and conferred an important strategic advantage upon Suffren, not to speak of the political effect upon the native rulers in India.
During the six weeks that Suffren had been actively [451] and effectively engaged, the English admiral had essentially stayed at anchor, making repairs and upgrades. It's hard to know how much of this delay was unavoidable, but considering the well-known skills of English sailors at that time, it’s clear that if Hughes had shown the same relentless energy as his rival, he could have gained the few days that ultimately decided the fate of Trincomalee and fought a battle to save it. This conclusion is backed up by his own reports, which say that on August 12, the ships were almost ready; yet, even with the risk of an attack on Trincomalee looming, he didn’t set sail until the 20th. Losing this harbor forced him to give up the east coast, which became unsafe due to the coming northeast monsoon, and it gave Suffren a significant strategic advantage, not to mention the political impact on the local rulers in India.
To appreciate thoroughly this contrast between the two admirals, it is necessary also to note how differently they were situated with regard to material for repairs. After the action of the 6th, Hughes found at Madras spars, cordage, stores, provisions, and material. Suffren at Cuddalore found nothing. To put his squadron in good fighting condition, nineteen new topmasts were needed, besides lower masts, yards, rigging, sails, and so on. To take the sea at all, the masts were removed from the frigates and smaller vessels, and given to the ships-of-the-line while English prizes were stripped to equip the frigates. Ships were sent off to the Straits of Malacca to procure other spars and timber. Houses were torn down on shore to find lumber for repairing the hulls. The difficulties were increased by the character of the anchorage, an open roadstead with frequent heavy sea, and by the near presence of the English fleet; but the work was driven on under the eyes of the commander-in-chief, who, like Lord Howe at New York, inspired the working parties by his constant appearance among them. "Notwithstanding his prodigious obesity, Suffren displayed the fiery ardor of youth; he was everywhere where work was going on. Under his [452]powerful impulse, the most difficult tasks were done with incredible rapidity. Nevertheless, his officers represented to him the bad state of the fleet, and the need of a port for the ships-of-the-line. 'Until we have taken Trincomalee,' he replied, 'the open roadsteads of the Coromandel coast will answer.'"[188] It was indeed to this activity on the Coromandel coast that the success at Trincomalee was due. The weapons with which Suffren fought are obsolete; but the results wrought by his tenacity and fertility in resources are among the undying lessons of history.
To fully understand the difference between the two admirals, it's important to consider how differently they were equipped for repairs. After the battle on the 6th, Hughes found everything he needed in Madras: spars, ropes, supplies, and provisions. In contrast, Suffren at Cuddalore found nothing. To prepare his squadron for battle, he needed nineteen new topmasts, along with lower masts, yards, rigging, sails, and more. To even set sail, masts were taken from the frigates and smaller vessels and given to the ships-of-the-line, while English prizes were stripped to equip the frigates. Ships were dispatched to the Straits of Malacca to gather more spars and timber. Houses along the shore were torn down to provide lumber for repairing the hulls. The challenges were worsened by the nature of the anchorage, which was an open roadstead prone to heavy seas, and by the close presence of the English fleet. However, the work continued under the watchful eye of the commander-in-chief, who, like Lord Howe at New York, motivated the workers by being present with them. "Despite his considerable weight, Suffren showed the fiery enthusiasm of youth; he was everywhere work was taking place. Under his powerful influence, the most challenging tasks were completed with astonishing speed. Nonetheless, his officers pointed out the fleet's poor condition and the need for a port for the ships-of-the-line. 'Until we have taken Trincomalee,' he replied, 'the open roadsteads of the Coromandel coast will do just fine.'"[188] It was indeed this activity on the Coromandel coast that led to the success at Trincomalee. The weapons with which Suffren fought are outdated now, but the results achieved through his determination and resourcefulness are timeless lessons in history.
While the characters of the two chiefs were thus telling upon the strife in India, other no less lasting lessons were being afforded by the respective governments at home, who did much to restore the balance between them. While the English ministry, after the news of the battle of Porto Praya, fitted out in November, 1781, a large and compact expedition, convoyed by a powerful squadron of six ships-of-the-line, under the command of an active officer, to reinforce Hughes, the French despatched comparatively scanty succors in small detached bodies, relying apparently upon secrecy rather than upon force to assure their safety. Thus Suffren, while struggling with his innumerable embarrassments, had the mortification of learning that now one and now another of the small detachments sent to his relief were captured, or driven back to France, before they were clear of European waters. There was in truth little safety for small divisions north of the Straits of Gibraltar. Thus the advantages gained by his activity were in the end sacrificed. Up to the fall of Trincomalee the French were superior at sea; but in the six months which followed, the balance turned the other way, by the arrival of the English reinforcements under Sir Richard Bickerton.
While the personalities of the two leaders were influencing the conflict in India, their respective governments back home were also providing significant lessons that contributed to restoring the balance between them. After hearing about the battle of Porto Praya, the English ministry organized a large and well-prepared expedition in November 1781, accompanied by a strong squadron of six ships-of-the-line, commanded by a capable officer, to reinforce Hughes. In contrast, the French sent relatively limited support in small, separate groups, seemingly hoping that secrecy would ensure their safety over brute force. Consequently, Suffren, grappling with numerous challenges, faced the frustration of discovering that several small detachments meant to assist him were either captured or forced back to France before they could leave European waters. In reality, there was little safety for small groups north of the Straits of Gibraltar. Ultimately, the advantages gained by his efforts were compromised. Until the fall of Trincomalee, the French held the upper hand at sea; however, in the following six months, the balance shifted as English reinforcements under Sir Richard Bickerton arrived.
With his usual promptness the French commodore had prepared for further immediate action as soon as Trincomalee surrendered. The cannon and men landed from the ships were at once re-embarked, and the port secured by a garrison [453]strong enough to relieve him of any anxiety about holding it. This great seaman, who had done as much in proportion to the means intrusted to him as any known to history, and had so signally illustrated the sphere and influence of naval power, had no intention of fettering the movements of his fleet, or risking his important conquest, by needlessly taking upon the shoulders of the ships the burden of defending a seaport. When Hughes appeared, it was past the power of the English fleet by a single battle to reduce the now properly garrisoned post. Doubtless a successful campaign, by destroying or driving away the French sea power, would achieve this result; but Suffren might well believe that, whatever mishaps might arise on a single day, he could in the long run more than hold his own with his opponent.
With his usual promptness, the French commodore was ready for further immediate action as soon as Trincomalee surrendered. The cannons and men that landed from the ships quickly re-boarded, and the port was secured by a garrison [453]strong enough to ease his worries about holding it. This great naval commander, who had accomplished as much as anyone in history relative to the resources given to him, and had clearly demonstrated the scope and impact of naval power, had no intention of restricting his fleet's movements or jeopardizing his important conquest by unnecessarily taking on the burden of defending a seaport. When Hughes arrived, it was beyond the English fleet's ability, in just one battle, to take back the now properly garrisoned post. Certainly, a successful campaign could achieve this by destroying or driving off the French naval power; however, Suffren could confidently believe that, despite any setbacks on a single day, he could generally hold his ground against his opponent.
Seaports should defend themselves; the sphere of the fleet is on the open sea, its object offence rather than defence, its objective the enemy's shipping wherever it can be found. Suffren now saw again before him the squadron on which depended the English control of the sea; he knew that powerful reinforcements to it must arrive before the next season, and he hastened to attack. Hughes, mortified by his failure to arrive in time,—for a drawn battle beforehand would have saved what a successful battle afterward could not regain,—was in no humor to balk him. Still, with sound judgment, he retreated to the southeast, flying in good order, to use Suffren's expression; regulating speed by the slowest ships, and steering many different courses, so that the chase which began at daybreak overtook the enemy only at two in the afternoon. The object of the English was to draw Suffren so far to leeward of the port that, if his ships were disabled, he could not easily regain it.
Seaports need to protect themselves; the fleet operates in the open sea, focusing on offense rather than defense, targeting the enemy's shipping wherever they can find it. Suffren now saw again in front of him the squadron that the English depended on to control the sea; he knew that strong reinforcements were on the way before the next season, and he rushed to launch an attack. Hughes, frustrated by his failure to get there in time—since a tied battle earlier would have saved what a successful battle later couldn't recover—wasn't in the mood to hinder him. Yet, using sound judgment, he retreated to the southeast, retreating in good order, as Suffren would say; managing their speed based on the slowest ships and steering in various directions, so that the chase which started at dawn didn't catch up to the enemy until two in the afternoon. The English aimed to draw Suffren far enough away from the port that, if his ships were damaged, he wouldn't be able to return easily.
The French numbered fourteen ships-of-the-line to twelve English. This superiority, together with his sound appreciation of the military situation in India, increased Suffren's natural eagerness for action; but his ships sailed badly, and were poorly handled by indifferent and dissatisfied men. These circumstances, during the long and vexatious pursuit, [454]chafed and fretted the hot temper of the commodore, which still felt the spur of urgency that for two months had quickened the operations of the squadron. Signal followed signal, manœuvre succeeded manœuvre, to bring his disordered vessels into position. "Sometimes they edged down, sometimes they brought to," says the English admiral, who was carefully watching their approach, "in no regular order, as if undetermined what to do." Still, Suffren continued on, and at two P.M., having been carried twenty-five miles away from his port, his line being then partly formed and within striking distance of the enemy, the signal was made to come to the wind to correct the order before finally bearing down. A number of blunders in executing this made matters worse rather than better; and the commodore, at last losing patience, made signal thirty minutes later to attack (Plate XVII., A), following it with another for close action at pistol range. This being slowly and clumsily obeyed, he ordered a gun fired, as is customary at sea to emphasize a signal; unluckily this was understood by his own crew to be the opening of the action, and the flag-ship discharged all her battery. This example was followed by the other ships, though yet at the distance of half cannon-shot, which, under the gunnery conditions of that day, meant indecisive action. Thus at the end and as the result of a mortifying series of blunders and bad seamanship, the battle began greatly to the disadvantage of the French, despite their superior numbers. The English, who had been retreating under short and handy sail, were in good order and quietly ready; whereas their enemies were in no order (B). Seven ships had forereached in rounding to,[189] and now formed an irregular group ahead of the English van, as well as far from it, where they were of little service; while in the centre a second confused group was formed, the ships overlapping and masking each other's fire. Under the circumstances the entire brunt of the action [455]fell upon Suffren's flag-ship (a) and two others which supported him; while at the extreme rear a small ship-of-the-line, backed by a large frigate, alone engaged the English rear; but these, being wholly overmatched, were soon forced to retire.
The French had fourteen ships-of-the-line compared to twelve from England. This advantage, along with his clear understanding of the military situation in India, fueled Suffren's eagerness for action; however, his ships were poorly designed and poorly managed by unmotivated and unhappy crew members. During the lengthy and frustrating pursuit, [454]the commodore’s irritability grew, driven by the urgency that had pushed the squadron for two months. Signals were exchanged and maneuvers executed to get his disorganized fleet in order. "Sometimes they moved down, sometimes they came about," remarked the English admiral, who was carefully monitoring their advance, "in no particular sequence, as if unsure of their next step." Still, Suffren pressed on, and at two PM, having drifted twenty-five miles away from his port, with his line partially formed and within striking distance of the enemy, he signaled for the fleet to adjust their sails to correct their formation before they charged in. Several mistakes during this process only made things more chaotic; finally, losing patience, the commodore signaled thirty minutes later to attack (Plate XVII., A), followed by another signal for close-range action. As this was executed slowly and awkwardly, he ordered a cannon to be fired, a common practice at sea to stress a signal; unfortunately, this was misinterpreted by his crew as the start of the battle, leading the flagship to fire her entire armament. This was mimicked by the other ships, though they were still half a cannon-shot away, which meant their artillery was less effective. Consequently, due to a series of frustrating mistakes and poor seamanship, the battle began significantly to the French’s disadvantage, despite their numerical superiority. The English, who had been retreating under quick and manageable sails, were in good formation and prepared; meanwhile, their adversaries were disorganized (B). Seven ships had gotten ahead while turning,[189] forming a haphazard group in front of the English lead but were far from being tactically useful; in the center, another disordered group was overlapping and blocking each other's fire. Given the circumstances, the brunt of the battle [455]fell on Suffren's flagship (a) and two supporting ships, while at the very rear, a small ship-of-the-line, backed by a large frigate, only engaged the English rear; but being completely outmatched, they were soon forced to withdraw.
A military operation could scarcely be worse carried out. The French ships in the battle did not support each other; they were so grouped as to hamper their own fire and needlessly increase the target offered to the enemy; so far from concentrating their own effort, three ships were left, almost unsupported, to a concentrated fire from the English line.[190] "Time passed on, and our three ships [B, a], engaged on the beam by the centre of the English fleet and raked [enfiladed] by van and rear, suffered greatly. After two hours the 'Héros'' sails were in rags, all her running rigging cut, and she could no longer steer. The 'Illustre' had lost her mizzen-mast and maintopmast." In this disorder such gaps existed as to offer a great opportunity to a more active opponent. "Had the enemy tacked now," wrote the chief-of-staff in his journal, "we would have been cut off and probably destroyed." The faults of an action in which every proper distribution was wanting are summed up in the results. The French had fourteen ships engaged. They lost eighty-two killed and two hundred and fifty-five wounded. Of this total, sixty-four killed and one hundred and seventy-eight wounded, or three fourths, fell to three ships. Two of these three lost their main and mizzen masts and foretopmast; in other words, were helpless.
A military operation could hardly have been worse executed. The French ships in the battle didn’t support each other; they were positioned in a way that hindered their own fire and unnecessarily increased the target for the enemy. Instead of focusing their efforts, three ships were left nearly unsupported, taking heavy fire from the English line.[190] "As time went on, our three ships [B, a] faced the center of the English fleet and were raked by both the front and back, suffering significantly. After two hours, the 'Héros' had torn sails, all of its running rigging was cut, and it could no longer steer. The 'Illustre' had lost its mizzen mast and maintopmast." In this chaos, there were such gaps that it created a major opportunity for a more aggressive opponent. "If the enemy had tacked now," the chief-of-staff wrote in his journal, "we would have been cut off and likely destroyed." The mistakes in an action where there was no proper distribution are clear in the results. The French had fourteen ships engaged. They lost eighty-two killed and two hundred and fifty-five wounded. Of this total, sixty-four killed and one hundred seventy-eight wounded, or three-quarters, came from three ships. Two of these three lost their main and mizzen masts and foretopmast; in other words, they were powerless.
This was a repetition on a larger scale of the disaster to two of Hughes's ships on the 12th of April; but on that day the English admiral, being to leeward and in smaller force had to accept action on the adversary's terms, while here the loss fell on the assailant, who, to the advantage of the wind and choice of his mode of attack, added superiority in [456]numbers. Full credit must in this action be allowed to Hughes, who, though lacking in enterprise and giving no token of tactical skill or coup d'œil, showed both judgment and good management in the direction of his retreat and in keeping his ships so well in hand. It is not easy to apportion the blame which rests upon his enemies. Suffren laid it freely upon his captains.[191] It has been rightly pointed out, however, that many of the officers thus condemned in mass had conducted themselves well before, both under Suffren and other admirals; that the order of pursuit was irregular, and Suffren's signals followed each other with confusing rapidity; and finally that chance, for which something must always be allowed, was against the French, as was also the inexperience of several captains. It is pretty certain that some of the mishap must be laid to the fiery and inconsiderate haste of Suffren, who had the defects of his great qualities, upon which his coy and wary antagonist unwittingly played.
This was a larger-scale repeat of the disaster that hit two of Hughes's ships on April 12th; on that day, the English admiral, being downwind and outnumbered, had to fight on the enemy's terms. Here, though, the loss was on the attacker, who, with the wind in his favor and the choice of his strategy, also had numerical superiority. Hughes deserves full credit for this action. Although he lacked initiative and didn't show much tactical skill or quick judgment, he did demonstrate good judgment and solid management in coordinating his retreat and keeping his ships well organized. It isn't easy to assign blame to his enemies. Suffren readily blamed his captains. However, it has been rightly observed that many of the officers he condemned had performed well in the past, both under Suffren and other admirals; the pursuit was poorly coordinated, and Suffren's signals were confusingly quick; and lastly, chance—something that can always affect outcomes—was against the French, as was the inexperience of several captains. It's pretty clear that some of the mishap can be attributed to Suffren's fiery and reckless haste, which reflected his strong qualities, something his cautious and careful opponent took advantage of.
It is noteworthy that no complaints of his captains are to be found in Hughes's reports. Six fell in action, and of each he speaks in terms of simple but evidently sincere appreciation, while on the survivors he often bestows particular as well as general commendation. The marked contrast between the two leaders, and between the individual ship-commanders, on either side, makes this singularly instructive among naval campaigns; and the ultimate lesson taught is in entire accordance with the experience of all military history from the beginning. Suffren had genius, energy, great tenacity, sound military ideas, and was also an accomplished seaman. Hughes had apparently all the technical acquirements of the latter profession, would probably have commanded a ship equally well with any of his captains, but shows no trace of the qualities needed by a general officer. On the other hand, without insisting again upon the skill and fidelity of the English subordinates, it is evident that, [457]to whatever it be attributed, the French single ships were as a rule incomparably worse-handled than those of their opponents. Four times, Suffren claims, certainly thrice, the English squadron was saved from overwhelming disaster by the difference in quality of the under officers. Good troops have often made amends for bad generalship; but in the end the better leader will prevail. This was conspicuously the case in the Indian seas in 1782 and 1783. War cut short the strife, but not before the issue was clearly indicated.
It's notable that there are no complaints from his captains in Hughes's reports. Six of them fell in action, and he speaks of each with straightforward yet obviously sincere appreciation, while he often gives both specific and general praise to the survivors. The clear contrast between the two leaders and between the individual ship commanders on either side makes this particularly instructive among naval campaigns; and the ultimate lesson aligns perfectly with the lessons of all military history from the beginning. Suffren had genius, energy, great determination, sound military ideas, and was also a skilled seaman. Hughes seemingly possessed all the technical skills of the latter profession and would likely have commanded a ship as well as any of his captains, but he shows no signs of the qualities needed by a general officer. On the other hand, without needing to reiterate the skill and loyalty of the English subordinates, it's clear that, [457] whatever the reason, the French ships were generally handled far worse than their opponents. Suffren claims that, at least three times, the English squadron was saved from major disaster by the differences in the quality of the lower officers. Good troops have often compensated for poor leadership, but in the end, the better leader will come out on top. This was clearly the case in the Indian Ocean in 1782 and 1783. War ended the conflict, but not before the outcome was clearly established.
The action of September 3, like that of July 6, was brought to a close by a shift of wind to the southeast. When it came, the English line wore, and formed again on the other tack. The French also wore; and their van ships, being now to windward, stood down between their crippled ships and the enemy's line (C). Toward sundown Hughes hauled off to the northward, abandoning the hope of regaining Trincomalee, but with the satisfaction of having inflicted this severe retaliation upon his successful opponent.
The events of September 3, similar to those on July 6, ended when the wind shifted to the southeast. When that happened, the English line changed direction and re-formed on the other tack. The French also adjusted their course; their lead ships, now upwind, moved down between their damaged ships and the enemy's line (C). As the sun began to set, Hughes moved north, giving up the hope of reclaiming Trincomalee, but feeling satisfied that he had dealt a significant blow to his successful opponent.
That firmness of mind which was not the least of Suffren's qualities was severely tried soon after the action off Trincomalee. In returning to port, a seventy-four, the "Orient," was run ashore and lost by mismanagement, the only consolation being that her spars were saved for the two dismasted ships. Other crippled masts were replaced as before by robbing the frigates, whose crews also were needed to replace the losses in battle. Repairs were pushed on with the usual energy, the defence of the port was fully provided for, and on the 30th of September the squadron sailed for the Coromandel coast, where the state of French interests urgently called for it. Cuddalore was reached in four days; and here another incapable officer wrecked the "Bizarre," of sixty-four guns, in picking up his anchorage. In consequence of the loss of these two ships, Suffren, when he next met the enemy, could oppose only fifteen to eighteen ships-of-the-line; so much do general results depend upon individual ability and care. Hughes was at Madras, ninety miles north, whither he had gone at once after the late action. He reports his ships badly [458]damaged; but the loss was so evenly distributed among them that it is difficult to justify his failure to follow up the injuries done to the French.
That strong sense of determination, which was one of Suffren's key traits, was put to the test soon after the battle near Trincomalee. While returning to port, a seventy-four gun ship, the "Orient," was run aground and lost due to mismanagement, with the only silver lining being that her masts were salvaged for the two ships that had lost their masts. Other damaged masts were replaced, as before, by taking resources from the frigates, whose crews were also needed to make up for the losses in battle. Repairs were pushed forward with the usual vigor, the defense of the port was thoroughly organized, and on September 30th, the squadron set sail for the Coromandel coast, where French interests urgently required assistance. Cuddalore was reached in four days; however, here, another incompetent officer wrecked the "Bizarre," a sixty-four gun ship, while trying to anchor. Due to the loss of these two ships, Suffren could only bring fifteen to eighteen ships of the line against the enemy at their next encounter, illustrating how much overall outcomes rely on individual skill and diligence. Hughes was at Madras, ninety miles to the north, where he had gone immediately after the recent battle. He reports that his ships were badly [458] damaged; however, the damage was so evenly spread among them that it’s hard to justify his failure to pursue the injuries inflicted on the French.
At this season the monsoon wind, which has come for four or five months from southwest, changes to northeast, blowing upon the east coast of the peninsula, where are no good harbors. The consequent swell made the shore often unapproachable, and so forbade support from fleet to army. The change of the monsoon is also frequently marked by violent hurricanes. The two commanders, therefore, had to quit a region where their stay might be dangerous as well as useless. Had Trincomalee not been lost, Hughes, in the condition of his squadron, might have awaited there the reinforcements and supplies expected soon from England; for although the port is not healthy, it is secure and well situated. Bickerton had already reached Bombay, and was on his way now to Madras with five ships-of-the-line. As things were, Hughes thought necessary to go to Bombay for the season, sailing or rather being driven to sea by a hurricane, on the 17th of October. Four days later Bickerton reached Madras, not having fallen in with the admiral. With an activity which characterized him he sailed at once, and was again in Bombay on the 28th of November. Hughes's ships, scattered and crippled by tempest, dropped in one by one, a few days later.
During this time, the monsoon wind, which had been blowing from the southwest for four or five months, shifts to the northeast, affecting the east coast of the peninsula, where there are no good harbors. The resulting swell often made the shore unreachable, preventing support from the fleet to the army. This change in the monsoon is also frequently accompanied by strong hurricanes. As a result, the two commanders needed to leave an area that could be both dangerous and unproductive. If Trincomalee hadn't been lost, Hughes could have waited there for the reinforcements and supplies expected from England, as the port, despite its unhealthiness, is safe and well-placed. Bickerton had already arrived in Bombay and was now heading to Madras with five ships-of-the-line. Given the situation, Hughes decided it was necessary to go to Bombay for the season, setting sail—actually being forced out to sea by a hurricane—on October 17. Four days later, Bickerton arrived in Madras, not having encountered the admiral. With the characteristic energy he showed, he immediately set sail and was back in Bombay by November 28. Hughes's ships, scattered and damaged by the storm, arrived one by one a few days later.
Suffren held Trincomalee, yet his decision was not easy. The port was safe, he had not to fear an attack by the English fleet; and on the other hand, besides being sickly during the approaching monsoon, it was doubtful whether the provisions needed for the health of the crews could be had there. In short, though of strategic value from its strength and position, the port was deficient in resources. Opposed to Trincomalee there was an alternative in Achem, a harbor on the other side of the Bay of Bengal, at the west end of the island of Sumatra. This was healthy, could supply provisions, and, from its position with reference to the northeast monsoon, would permit ships to regain the Coromandel coast sooner [459]than those in Bombay, when the milder ending of the season made landing more practicable.
Suffren held onto Trincomalee, but his choice wasn't easy. The port was secure, and he didn’t have to worry about an attack from the English fleet; however, it was likely to be unhealthy during the upcoming monsoon, and it was uncertain if the supplies needed for the crews’ health could be found there. In short, while the port was strategically valuable due to its strength and location, it lacked resources. In contrast to Trincomalee, there was another option in Achem, a harbor on the opposite side of the Bay of Bengal, at the western end of Sumatra. This location was healthy, could provide supplies, and its position relative to the northeast monsoon would allow ships to reach the Coromandel coast more quickly [459] than those in Bombay when the milder end of the season made landings easier.
These simple considerations were not, however, the only elements in the really difficult problem before Suffren. The small results that followed this campaign must not hide the fact that great issues were possible, and that much might depend upon his decision. Owing to the French policy of sending out reinforcements in several small bodies, not only was there much loss, but great uncertainty prevailed among the scattered commands as to conditions elsewhere. This uncertainty, loss, and delay profoundly affected the political situation in India. When Suffren first reached the coast, the English had on their hands not only Hyder Ali, but the Mahrattas as well. Peace with the latter was signed on the 17th of May, 1782; but, owing probably to an opposition party among them, the ratifications were not exchanged until December. Both there and in the court of Hyder Ali there was division of interest; and representations were made from both to the French, who, though suspicious, could obtain no certain information of the treaty, that everything depended upon the relative military strength of themselves and the English. The presence and the actions of Suffren were all that France had to show,—the prestige of his genius, the capture of Trincomalee, his success in battle. The French army, cooped up in Cuddalore, was dependent upon the sultan for money, for food, and for reinforcements; even the fleet called on him for money, for masts, for ammunition, for grain. The English, on the other hand, maintained their ground; though on the whole worsted, they lost no ships; and Bickerton's powerful squadron was known to have reached Bombay. Above all, while the French asked for money, the English lavished it.
These simple considerations were not, however, the only factors in the truly challenging situation facing Suffren. The minor outcomes from this campaign shouldn't overshadow the fact that significant issues were at stake and that much depended on his decisions. Because of the French policy of sending reinforcements in several small groups, there was not only considerable loss but also great uncertainty among the scattered commands regarding conditions in other areas. This uncertainty, loss, and delay had a profound impact on the political situation in India. When Suffren first arrived on the coast, the English were dealing with both Hyder Ali and the Mahrattas. A peace agreement with the latter was signed on May 17, 1782, but, likely due to internal opposition among them, the ratifications weren’t exchanged until December. Both there and at Hyder Ali’s court, interests were divided; and both parties made requests to the French, who, though skeptical, could gather no reliable information about the treaty, believing that everything hinged on the relative military strength between themselves and the English. The presence and actions of Suffren were all that France had to showcase—his impressive military talent, the capture of Trincomalee, his victories in battle. The French army, trapped in Cuddalore, relied on the sultan for money, food, and reinforcements; even the fleet depended on him for funds, masts, ammunition, and grain. In contrast, the English held their position; although they were generally at a disadvantage, they didn’t lose any ships, and Bickerton's powerful squadron was confirmed to have reached Bombay. Most importantly, while the French sought funds, the English were spending freely.
It was impossible for the French to make head against their enemy without native allies; it was essential to keep Hyder from also making peace. Here the inadequate support and faulty dispositions of the home government made themselves felt. The command in India, both by land and sea, was intrusted to General de Bussy, once the brilliant [460]fellow-worker with Dupleix, now a gouty invalid of sixty-four. With a view to secrecy, Bussy sailed from Cadiz in November, 1781, with two ships-of-the-line, for Teneriffe, where he was to be joined by a convoy leaving Brest in December. This convoy was captured by the English, only two of the vessels escaping to Bussy. The latter pursued his journey, and learning at the Cape of Good Hope that Bickerton's strong force was on the way, felt compelled to land there a great part of his troops. He reached the Isle of France on the 31st of May. The next convoy of eighteen transports, sailing in April for India, was also intercepted. Two of the four ships-of-war were taken, as also ten of the transports; the remainder returned to Brest. A third detachment was more fortunate, reaching the Cape in May; but it was delayed there two months by the wretched condition of the ships and crews. These disappointments decided Bussy to remain at the Island until joined by the expected ships from the Cape, and Suffren at this critical moment did not know what the state of things there was. The general had only written him that, as he could not reach the coast before the bad season, he should rendezvous at Achem. These uncertainties made a painful impression upon Hyder Ali, who had been led to expect Bussy in September, and had instead received news of Bickerton's arrival and the defection of his old allies, the Mahrattas. Suffren was forced to pretend a confidence which he did not feel, but which, with the influence of his own character and achievements, determined the sultan to continue the war. This settled, the squadron sailed for Achem on the 15th of October, anchoring there the 2d of November.
It was impossible for the French to stand against their enemy without local allies; it was crucial to prevent Hyder from making peace. Here, the insufficient support and poor decisions of the home government were evident. The command in India, both on land and sea, was given to General de Bussy, once a brilliant colleague of Dupleix, now a gout-ridden invalid at sixty-four. To maintain secrecy, Bussy set sail from Cadiz in November 1781 with two battleships to Teneriffe, where he was to meet a convoy leaving Brest in December. This convoy was captured by the English, with only two of the ships managing to escape to Bussy. He continued his journey, learning at the Cape of Good Hope that Bickerton's strong force was on its way, which forced him to land a large part of his troops there. He arrived at the Isle of France on May 31. The next convoy of eighteen transports, sailing in April for India, was also intercepted. Two of the four warships were captured, along with ten of the transports; the rest returned to Brest. A third group had better luck, reaching the Cape in May; however, it was delayed there for two months due to the poor condition of the ships and crews. These setbacks prompted Bussy to stay on the Island until he was joined by the expected ships from the Cape, and at this critical moment, Suffren was unaware of the situation there. The general had only informed him that, since he could not reach the coast before the bad weather, they should meet at Achem. These uncertainties weighed heavily on Hyder Ali, who had been expecting Bussy in September but instead received news of Bickerton's arrival and the betrayal of his old allies, the Mahrattas. Suffren had to fake confidence that he didn’t truly feel, but with the strength of his character and past successes, he managed to persuade the sultan to continue the war. Once that was settled, the squadron set sail for Achem on October 15, anchoring there on November 2.
Three weeks afterward a vessel arrived from Bussy, with word that his departure was indefinitely delayed by an epidemic raging among the troops. Suffren therefore determined to hasten his own return to the coast, and sailed on the 20th of December. January 8, 1783, he anchored off Ganjam, five hundred miles northeast of Cuddalore, whence he would have a fair wind to proceed when he wished. It [461]was his purpose to attack not only the coasting vessels but the English factories on shore as well, the surf being now often moderate; but learning on the 12th, from an English prize, the important and discouraging news of Hyder Ali's death, he gave up all minor operations, and sailed at once for Cuddalore, hoping to secure by his presence the continuance of the alliance as well as the safety of the garrison. He reached the place on the 6th of February.
Three weeks later, a ship arrived from Bussy with news that his departure was postponed indefinitely due to an epidemic spreading among the troops. As a result, Suffren decided to speed up his own return to the coast and set sail on December 20. On January 8, 1783, he dropped anchor off Ganjam, five hundred miles northeast of Cuddalore, where he would have favorable winds whenever he wanted to proceed. It [461]was his intention to attack not only the coastal vessels but also the English factories onshore, as the surf was often manageable; however, upon learning on the 12th from an English prize about the significant and discouraging news of Hyder Ali's death, he abandoned all minor operations and immediately sailed for Cuddalore, hoping that his presence would ensure the continuation of the alliance as well as the safety of the garrison. He arrived there on February 6.
During his four months absence the failure of Bussy to appear with his troops, and the arrival of Bickerton, who had shown himself on both coasts, had seriously injured the French cause. The treaty of peace between the English and the Mahrattas had been ratified; and the former, released from this war and reinforced, had attacked the sultan on the west, or Malabar, coast. The effect of this diversion was of course felt on the east coast, despite the efforts of the French to keep the new sultan there. The sickness among the troops at the Isle of France had, however, ceased early in November; and had Bussy then started without delay, he and Suffren would now have met in the Carnatic, with full command of the sea and large odds in their favor ashore. Hughes did not arrive till two months later.
During his four-month absence, Bussy's failure to show up with his troops and the arrival of Bickerton, who had appeared on both coasts, seriously harmed the French cause. The peace treaty between the English and the Mahrattas had been ratified, and the English, free from this war and bolstered in strength, had launched an attack on the sultan along the west, or Malabar, coast. This diversion was naturally felt on the east coast, despite the French's efforts to maintain the new sultan there. However, the sickness among the troops at the Isle of France had ended by early November, and had Bussy started immediately, he and Suffren would have met in the Carnatic, with full control of the sea and significant advantages on land. Hughes didn't arrive until two months later.
Being thus alone, Suffren, after communicating with Tippoo-Saib, the new sultan of Mysore, went to Trincomalee; and there he was at last joined, on the 10th of March, by Bussy, accompanied by three ships-of-the-line and numerous transports. Eager to bring the troops into the field, Suffren sailed on the 15th with his fastest ships, and landed them the next day at Porto Novo. He returned to Trincomalee on the 11th of April, and fell in with Hughes's fleet of seventeen ships-of-the-line off the harbor's mouth. Having only part of his force with him, no fight ensued, and the English went on to Madras. The southwest monsoon was now blowing.
Being alone, Suffren, after communicating with Tippoo-Saib, the new sultan of Mysore, went to Trincomalee; there, on March 10th, he was finally joined by Bussy, who brought three ships-of-the-line and numerous transports. Eager to get the troops in action, Suffren set sail on the 15th with his fastest ships and landed them the next day at Porto Novo. He returned to Trincomalee on April 11th and encountered Hughes's fleet of seventeen ships-of-the-line off the mouth of the harbor. Since he only had part of his force with him, no battle took place, and the English continued on to Madras. The southwest monsoon was now blowing.
It is not necessary to follow the trivial operations of the next two months. Tippoo being engaged on the other side of the peninsula and Bussy displaying little vigor, while Hughes was in superior force off the coast, the affairs of the [462]French on shore went from bad to worse. Suffren, having but fifteen ships to eighteen English, was unwilling to go to leeward of Trincomalee, lest it should fall before he could return to it. Under these conditions the English troops advanced from Madras, passing near but around Cuddalore, and encamped to the southward of it, by the sea. The supply-ships and light cruisers were stationed off the shore near the army; while Admiral Hughes, with the heavy ships, anchored some twenty miles south, where, being to windward, he covered the others.
There’s no need to focus on the minor events of the next couple of months. Tippoo was busy on the other side of the peninsula and Bussy wasn’t showing much energy, while Hughes had a stronger force off the coast. The situation for the [462]French on land just worsened. Suffren, with only fifteen ships compared to eighteen English ones, was hesitant to sail downwind of Trincomalee in case it fell before he could return. Given these circumstances, the English troops moved out from Madras, passing close to Cuddalore but not directly through it, and set up camp to the south by the sea. Supply ships and light cruisers were stationed near the army, while Admiral Hughes anchored about twenty miles to the south with the heavy ships, positioned to windward to protect the others.
In order to assure to Suffren the full credit of his subsequent course, it is necessary to emphasize the fact that Bussy, though commander-in-chief both by land and sea, did not venture to order him to leave Trincomalee and come to his support. Allowing him to feel the extremity of the danger, he told him not to leave port unless he heard that the army was shut up in Cuddalore, and blockaded by the English squadron. This letter was received on the 10th of June. Suffren waited for no more. The next day he sailed, and forty-eight hours later his frigates saw the English fleet. The same day, the 13th, after a sharp action, the French army was shut up in the town, behind very weak walls. Everything now depended on the action of the fleets.
To give Suffren full credit for what he did next, it's important to highlight that Bussy, despite being in charge of both land and sea forces, didn't tell him to leave Trincomalee and come to his aid. He made Suffren aware of the serious danger but instructed him not to leave the port unless he heard that the army was stuck in Cuddalore and surrounded by the English fleet. Suffren received this message on June 10th. He didn’t wait any longer. The next day he set sail, and forty-eight hours later his frigates spotted the English fleet. On the same day, the 13th, after a fierce battle, the French army found themselves trapped in the town, behind very weak walls. Everything now rested on what the fleets would do.
Upon Suffren's appearance, Hughes moved away and anchored four or five miles from the town. Baffling winds prevailed for three days; but the monsoon resuming on the 16th, Suffren approached. The English admiral not liking to accept action at anchor, and to leeward, in which he was right, got under way; but attaching more importance to the weather-gage than to preventing a junction between the enemy's land and sea forces, he stood out into the offing with a southerly, or south-southeast wind, notwithstanding his superior numbers. Suffren formed on the same tack, and some manœuvring ensued during that night and the next day. At eight P.M. of the 17th the French squadron, which had refused to be drawn to sea, anchored off Cuddalore and communicated with the commander-in-chief. Twelve hundred [463]of the garrison were hastily embarked to fill the numerous vacancies at the guns of the fleet.
When Suffren showed up, Hughes moved away and anchored four or five miles from the town. For three days, there were confusing winds; but when the monsoon picked up again on the 16th, Suffren got closer. The English admiral didn't want to engage while anchored and downwind, which was a smart move, so he set sail. However, he prioritized having the weather advantage over preventing the enemy's land and sea forces from joining up, and he sailed out into deeper water with a southerly or south-southeast wind, even with his larger numbers. Suffren took the same course, and some maneuvering happened that night and the following day. At eight P.M. on the 17th, the French squadron, which had refused to be lured out to sea, anchored off Cuddalore and made contact with the commander-in-chief. Twelve hundred [463] of the garrison were quickly loaded onto the ships to fill the many gaps at the fleet's guns.
Until the 20th the wind, holding unexpectedly at west, denied Hughes the advantage which he sought; and finally on that day he decided to accept action and await the attack. It was made by Suffren with fifteen ships to eighteen, the fire opening at quarter-past four P.M. and lasting until half-past six. The loss on both sides was nearly equal; but the English ships, abandoning both the field of battle and their army, returned to Madras. Suffren anchored before Cuddalore.
Until the 20th, the wind, unexpectedly blowing from the west, kept Hughes from gaining the advantage he wanted; so that day, he decided to take action and prepare for the attack. Suffren launched his attack with fifteen ships against eighteen, starting the battle at quarter past four P.M. and continuing until half past six. The losses on both sides were almost the same; however, the English ships, leaving the battlefield and their army behind, returned to Madras. Suffren anchored off Cuddalore.
The embarrassment of the British army was now very great. The supply-ships on which it had depended fled before the action of the 20th, and the result of course made it impossible for them to return. The sultan's light cavalry harassed their communications by land. On the 25th, the general commanding wrote that his "mind was on the rack without a moment's rest since the departure of the fleet, considering the character of M. de Suffren, and the infinite superiority on the part of the French now that we are left to ourselves." From this anxiety he was relieved by the news of the conclusion of peace, which reached Cuddalore on the 29th by flag-of-truce from Madras.
The British army was now extremely embarrassed. The supply ships they relied on fled before the battle on the 20th, making it impossible for them to come back. The sultan's light cavalry disrupted their land communications. On the 25th, the commanding general wrote that his "mind was in turmoil without a moment's rest since the fleet left, considering the character of M. de Suffren, and the overwhelming superiority of the French now that we are on our own." This anxiety was eased by the news of the peace agreement, which reached Cuddalore on the 29th via a flag-of-truce from Madras.
If any doubt had remained as to the relative merits of the two sea-commanders, the last few days of their campaign would have removed them. Hughes alleges the number of his sick and shortness of water as his reasons for abandoning the contest. Suffren's difficulties, however, were as great as his own;[192] and if he had an advantage at Trincomalee, that only shifts the dispute a step back, for he owed its possession to superior generalship and activity. The simple facts that with fifteen ships he forced eighteen to abandon a blockade, relieved the invested army, strengthened his own crews, and fought a decisive action, make an impression which [464]does not need to be diminished in the interests of truth.[193] It is probable that Hughes's self-reliance had been badly shaken by his various meetings with Suffren.
If there was any doubt left about the abilities of the two sea commanders, the last few days of their campaign cleared it up. Hughes claims that the number of his sick crew and the lack of water are why he chose to withdraw from the fight. However, Suffren faced challenges just as significant as his own; and even if he had an advantage at Trincomalee, that merely moves the argument back a step, since he earned that position through better leadership and effort. The plain facts that he forced eighteen ships to abandon a blockade with just fifteen of his own, relieved the besieged army, strengthened his own crews, and fought a decisive battle create an impression that doesn’t need to be softened for the sake of honesty. It's likely that Hughes's confidence was seriously undermined by his various encounters with Suffren.
Although the tidings of peace sent by Hughes to Bussy rested only upon unofficial letters, they were too positive to justify a continuance of bloodshed. An arrangement was entered into by the authorities of the two nations in India, and hostilities ceased on the 8th of July. Two months later, at Pondicherry, the official despatches reached Suffren. His own words upon them are worth quoting, for they show the depressing convictions under which he had acted so noble a part: "God be praised for the peace! for it was clear that in India, though we had the means to impose the law, all would have been lost. I await your orders with impatience, and heartily pray they may permit me to leave. War alone can make bearable the weariness of certain things."
Although the news of peace sent by Hughes to Bussy was based only on unofficial letters, it was too certain to allow for any more bloodshed. The authorities of the two nations in India came to an agreement, and fighting stopped on July 8th. Two months later, at Pondicherry, the official documents reached Suffren. His own words on them are worth quoting, as they reflect the troubling beliefs that drove him to act so nobly: "God be praised for the peace! For it was clear that in India, although we had the means to enforce the law, all would have been lost. I await your orders with impatience, and I sincerely hope they allow me to leave. War alone can make the weariness of certain things bearable."
On the 6th of October, 1783, Suffren finally sailed from Trincomalee for France, stopping at the Isle of France and the Cape of Good Hope. The homeward voyage was a continued and spontaneous ovation. In each port visited the most flattering attentions were paid by men of every degree and of every nation. What especially gratified him was the homage of the English captains. It might well be so; none had so clearly established a right to his esteem as a warrior. On no occasion when Hughes and Suffren met, save the last, did the English number over twelve ships; but six English captains had laid down their lives, obstinately opposing his efforts. While he was at the Cape, a division of nine of Hughes's ships, returning from the war, anchored in the [465]harbor. Their captains called eagerly upon the admiral, the stout Commodore King of the "Exeter" at their head. "The good Dutchmen have received me as their savior," wrote Suffren; "but among the tributes which have most flattered me, none has given me more pleasure than the esteem and consideration testified by the English who are here." On reaching home, rewards were heaped upon him. Having left France as a captain, he came back a rear-admiral; and immediately after his return the king created a fourth vice-admiralship, a special post to be filled by Suffren, and to lapse at his death. These honors were won by himself alone; they were the tribute paid to his unyielding energy and genius, shown not only in actual fight but in the steadfastness which held to his station through every discouragement, and rose equal to every demand made by recurring want and misfortune.
On October 6, 1783, Suffren finally set sail from Trincomalee to France, stopping at the Isle of France and the Cape of Good Hope. The journey home was filled with spontaneous cheers. In every port he visited, people from all walks of life and different nations showed him great respect. What pleased him the most was the admiration from the English captains. It was well-deserved; no one had earned his respect as a warrior more clearly. Whenever Hughes and Suffren encountered each other, except for the last time, the English fleet never had more than twelve ships; yet six English captains had lost their lives stubbornly fighting against him. While he was at the Cape, a group of nine of Hughes's ships, returning from the war, anchored in the [465] harbor. Their captains were eager to meet with the admiral, led by the stout Commodore King of the "Exeter." "The good Dutchmen have welcomed me as their savior," Suffren wrote; "but among the honors that have flattered me the most, none has given me more joy than the admiration and respect shown by the English here." Upon returning home, he was showered with rewards. Having left France as a captain, he returned as a rear-admiral; and shortly after his return, the king established a new fourth vice-admiral position specifically for Suffren, which would end with his death. These honors were solely earned by him; they were a testament to his relentless energy and talent, demonstrated not only in battle but in the steadfastness that kept him firm in his position through every setback, rising to meet every challenge posed by ongoing hardships and misfortunes.
Alike in the general conduct of his operations and on the battlefield under the fire of the enemy, this lofty resolve was the distinguishing merit of Suffren; and when there is coupled with it the clear and absolute conviction which he held of the necessity to seek and crush the enemy's fleet, we have probably the leading traits of his military character. The latter was the light that led him, the former the spirit that sustained him. As a tactician, in the sense of a driller of ships, imparting to them uniformity of action and manœuvring, he seems to have been deficient, and would probably himself have admitted, with some contempt, the justice of the criticism made upon him in these respects. Whether or no he ever actually characterized tactics—meaning thereby elementary or evolutionary tactics—as the veil of timidity, there was that in his actions which makes the mot probable. Such a contempt, however, is unsafe even in the case of genius. The faculty of moving together with uniformity and precision is too necessary to the development of the full power of a body of ships to be lightly esteemed; it is essential to that concentration of effort at which Suffren rightly aimed, but which he was not always careful to secure by [466]previous dispositions. Paradoxical though it sounds, it is true that only fleets which are able to perform regular movements can afford at times to cast them aside; only captains whom the habit of the drill-ground has familiarized with the shifting phases it presents, can be expected to seize readily the opportunities for independent action presented by the field of battle. Howe and Jervis must make ready the way for the successes of Nelson. Suffren expected too much of his captains. He had the right to expect more than he got, but not that ready perception of the situation and that firmness of nerve which, except to a few favorites of Nature, are the result only of practice and experience.
Similar in how he conducted his operations and in battle against the enemy, Suffren's strong resolve was a key quality that set him apart. When combined with his clear and unwavering belief in the need to pursue and defeat the enemy's fleet, we see the main features of his military character. His conviction served as the guiding light, while his determined spirit provided support. As a tactician focused on coordinating ships to act uniformly and maneuver effectively, he seemed to lack in this area and would likely have admitted, with some disdain, the validity of the criticism against him regarding this aspect. Whether or not he actually described tactics as a mask for cowardice, his actions suggest that idea is plausible. However, such disdain is risky, even for someone of genius. The ability to move in unison and with precision is too vital for maximizing the full potential of a fleet to be taken lightly; it is crucial for achieving the concentrated effort that Suffren rightly aimed for, although he wasn't always careful to ensure it through prior arrangements. Paradoxically, only fleets capable of regular movements can afford to sometimes deviate from them; only ship captains familiar with the drills can be expected to quickly seize the opportunities for independent action that arise in battle. Howe and Jervis needed to pave the way for Nelson's successes. Suffren had high expectations for his captains. While he had the right to expect more than he received, he could not expect that quick understanding of circumstances and steadiness of nerve, which, except for a few naturally gifted individuals, come only from practice and experience.
Still, he was a very great man. When every deduction has been made, there must still remain his heroic constancy, his fearlessness of responsibility as of danger, the rapidity of his action, and the genius whose unerring intuition led him to break through the traditions of his service and assert for the navy that principal part which befits it, that offensive action which secures the control of the sea by the destruction of the enemy's fleet. Had he met in his lieutenants such ready instruments as Nelson found prepared for him, there can be little doubt that Hughes's squadron would have been destroyed while inferior to Suffren's, before reinforcements could have arrived; and with the English fleet it could scarcely have failed that the Coromandel coast also would have fallen. What effect this would have had upon the fate of the peninsula, or upon the terms of the peace, can only be surmised. His own hope was that, by acquiring the superiority in India, a glorious peace might result.
Still, he was a truly great man. After considering everything, his heroic determination, courage in facing responsibility as well as danger, the speed of his actions, and the brilliance that allowed him to challenge the traditions of his service and assert the navy's rightful role, which includes offensive actions that ensure control of the sea by defeating the enemy's fleet, must be acknowledged. If he had encountered lieutenants as capable as those Nelson had at his disposal, there’s little doubt that Hughes's squadron would have been defeated while still outmatched by Suffren's, before reinforcements could arrive; and it seems unlikely that the English fleet would have spared the Coromandel coast. The impact this could have had on the future of the peninsula or on the terms of peace can only be guessed. He hoped that by achieving dominance in India, a glorious peace could follow.
No further opportunities of distinction in war were given to Suffren. The remaining years of his life were spent in honored positions ashore. In 1788, upon an appearance of trouble with England, he was appointed to the command of a great fleet arming at Brest; but before he could leave Paris he died suddenly on the 8th of December, in the sixtieth year of his age. There seems to have been no suspicion [467]at the time of other than natural causes of death, he being exceedingly stout and of apoplectic temperament; but many years after a story, apparently well-founded, became current that he was killed in a duel arising out of his official action in India. His old antagonist on the battlefield, Sir Edward Hughes, died at a great age in 1794.
No more chances for distinction in war were given to Suffren. He spent the rest of his life in respected positions on land. In 1788, when trouble with England seemed imminent, he was appointed to command a large fleet being assembled at Brest. However, before he could leave Paris, he suddenly died on December 8th at the age of sixty. At the time, there was no suspicion of anything other than natural causes, as he was quite heavy and had a tendency towards apoplexy. But many years later, a story emerged, seemingly credible, that he had been killed in a duel related to his official actions in India. His former rival on the battlefield, Sir Edward Hughes, passed away at an old age in 1794.
FOOTNOTES:
[168] This Commodore Johnstone, more commonly known as Governor Johnstone, was one of the three commissioners sent by Lord North in 1778 to promote a reconciliation with America. Owing to certain suspicious proceedings on his part, Congress declared it was incompatible with their honor to hold any manner of correspondence or intercourse with him. His title of Governor arose from his being at one time governor of Pensacola. He had a most unenviable reputation in the English navy. (See Charnock's Biog. Navalis.)
[168] Commodore Johnstone, more commonly referred to as Governor Johnstone, was one of the three commissioners sent by Lord North in 1778 to help reconcile with America. Due to some questionable actions on his part, Congress declared that it was beneath their honor to have any form of communication or interaction with him. His title of Governor came from his previous role as the governor of Pensacola. He had a highly unfavorable reputation in the English navy. (See Charnock's Biog. Navalis.)
[170] Page 299.
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[172] The question of attacking the English squadron at its anchors was debated in a council of war. Its opinion confirmed Suffren's decision not to do so. In contrasting this with the failure of the English to attack the French detachment in Newport (p. 394), it must be borne in mind that in the latter case there was no means of forcing the ships to leave their strong position; whereas by threatening Trincomalee, or other less important points, Suffren could rely upon drawing Hughes out. He was therefore right in not attacking, while the English before Newport were probably wrong.
[172] The decision to attack the English fleet at anchor was discussed in a war council. The consensus supported Suffren's choice not to proceed with the attack. When comparing this to the English failure to attack the French forces in Newport (p. 394), it's important to remember that, in that situation, there was no way to force the ships to abandon their stronghold. In contrast, by threatening Trincomalee or other less significant locations, Suffren could expect to draw Hughes out. Thus, Suffren made the right call by not attacking, while the English at Newport likely made the wrong one.
[173] The dependence of Trincomalee upon the English fleet in this campaign affords an excellent illustration of the embarrassment and false position in which a navy finds itself when the defence of its seaports rests upon it. This bears upon a much debated point of the present day, and is worthy the study of those who maintain, too unqualifiedly, that the best coast defence is a navy. In one sense this is doubtless true,—to attack the enemy abroad is the best of defences; but in the narrow sense of the word "defence" it is not true. Trincomalee unfortified was simply a centre round which Hughes had to revolve like a tethered animal; and the same will always happen under like conditions.
[173] The reliance of Trincomalee on the English fleet during this campaign illustrates the awkward and difficult situation a navy faces when the security of its ports depends on it. This relates to a much-discussed topic today and deserves the attention of those who assert too strongly that the best way to defend a coastline is with a navy. In one way, this is certainly true—attacking the enemy overseas is the most effective defense; however, in the strict sense of "defense," this is not accurate. Trincomalee, without fortifications, was essentially just a point that Hughes had to maneuver around like a tethered animal, and this will always occur under similar circumstances.
[174] Plate XIV., Fig. D, shows the order of battle Suffren intended in this action. The five rear ships of the enemy would each have two opponents close aboard. The leading French ship on the weather side was to be kept farther off, so that while attacking the sixth Englishman she could "contain" the van ships if they attempted to reinforce the rear by tacking.
[174] Plate XIV., Fig. D, illustrates the battle formation that Suffren planned for this engagement. The five enemy ships at the back would each face two opposing ships directly alongside. The leading French ship on the windward side was to maintain a greater distance, allowing it to attack the sixth English ship while also "containing" the front ships if they tried to support the rear by tacking.
[175] Troude: Batailles Navales.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Troude: Naval Battles.
[176] Between four and five hundred yards.
Between 400 and 500 yards.
[178] The "Victory," Nelson's ship at Trafalgar, a 100-gun ship, lost 57 killed and 102 wounded; Hughes's ship, a 74, lost 59 killed and 96 wounded. Collingwood's ship, the "Royal Sovereign," also of 100 guns, lost 47 killed and 94 wounded; the "Monmouth," a 64, in Hughes's action lost 45 killed and 102 wounded.
[178] The "Victory," Nelson's ship at Trafalgar, a 100-gun ship, lost 57 crew members killed and 102 wounded; Hughes's ship, a 74-gun vessel, lost 59 killed and 96 wounded. Collingwood's ship, the "Royal Sovereign," also a 100-gun ship, lost 47 killed and 94 wounded; the "Monmouth," a 64-gun ship in Hughes's battle, lost 45 killed and 102 wounded.
[180] This remark seems too self-evident to need emphasis; yet it may be questioned whether naval men generally carry it in their stock of axioms.
[180] This statement seems too obvious to need highlighting; yet it might be worth considering whether sailors typically include it in their set of beliefs.
[181] As always.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ As usual.
[183] Chevalier.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Knight.
[184] Annual Register, 1782.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Annual Register, 1782.
[185] The British account differs materially as to the cause of the distance separating the two rears. "In this action it did not fall to the 'Monmouth's' lot to sustain a very considerable share, the enemy's rear being so far to leeward that the ships of the British rear could not, even whilst the wind was favorable, close with them without considerably breaking the order of their own line" (Memoir of Captain Alms, Naval Chronicle, vol. ii). Such contradictions are common, and, except for a particular purpose, need not to be reconciled. Alms seems to have been not only a first-rate seaman, but an officer capable of resolute and independent action; his account is probably correct.
[185] The British account significantly differs regarding the reason for the distance between the two rear lines. "In this action, the 'Monmouth' did not bear a very large responsibility, as the enemy's rear was so far downwind that the ships of the British rear could not, even when the wind was favorable, close in without seriously disrupting the order of their own line" (Memoir of Captain Alms, Naval Chronicle, vol. ii). Such contradictions are common, and unless there’s a specific reason to do so, they don't need to be resolved. Alms appears to have been not only an excellent sailor but also an officer capable of decisive and independent action; his account is likely accurate.
[186] Troude: Batailles Navales. It was seen from Suffren's ship that the "Sévère's" flag was down; but it was supposed that the ensign halliards had been shot away. The next day Hughes sent the captain of the "Sultan" to demand the delivery to him of the ship which had struck. The demand, of course, could not be complied with. "The 'Sultan,'" Troude says, "which had hove-to to take possession of the 'Sévère,' was the victim of this action; she received during some time, without replying, the whole fire of the French ship."
[186] Troude: Naval Battles. From Suffren's ship, it was noticed that the "Sévère's" flag was down; however, it was believed that the flag halliards had been shot away. The next day, Hughes sent the captain of the "Sultan" to request the surrender of the ship that had struck. Naturally, the request couldn't be met. "The 'Sultan,'" Troude states, "which had stopped to take control of the 'Sévère,' was the victim of this action; it endured for a while, without returning fire, the full onslaught from the French ship."
[187] Annual Register, 1782.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Annual Register, 1782.
[188] Cunat: Vie de Suffren.
[189] The curves in (B) represent the movements of the ships after the shift of wind, which practically ended the battle. The ships themselves show the order in fighting.
[189] The curves in (B) show the movements of the ships after the change in wind, which basically brought the battle to an end. The ships themselves indicate the fighting order.
[190] The enemy formed a semicircle around us and raked us ahead and astern, as the ship came up and fell off, with the helm to leeward.—Journal de Bord du Bailli de Suffren.
[190] The enemy surrounded us in a semicircle and fired on us from both the front and the back, as the ship rose and dipped, with the wheel turned to the leeward.—Journal de Bord du Bailli de Suffren.
[192] There was not a single ship of Suffren's which had more than three-fourths of her regular complement of men. It must be added that soldiers and sepoys made up half of these reduced crews.—Chevalier, p. 463.
[192] Not a single ship of Suffren's had more than 75% of its usual crew. It's important to note that soldiers and sepoys accounted for half of these smaller crews.—Chevalier, p. 463.
[193] You will have learned my promotion to commodore and rear-admiral. Now, I tell you in the sincerity of my heart and for your own ear alone, that what I have done since then is worth infinitely more than what I had done before. You know the capture and battle of Trincomalee; but the end of the campaign, and that which took place between the month of March and the end of June, is far above anything that has been done in the navy since I entered it. The result has been very advantageous to the State, for the squadron was endangered and the army lost.—Private Letter of Suffren, Sept. 13, 1783; quoted in the "Journal de Bord du Bailli de Suffren."
[193] You’ve probably heard about my promotion to commodore and rear-admiral. Now, I want to share with you, honestly and just between us, that what I’ve accomplished since then is far more significant than what I did before. You know about the capture and battle of Trincomalee, but the conclusion of the campaign, and everything that happened from March to the end of June, is far beyond anything that has occurred in the navy since I joined. The outcome has been very beneficial for the State, as the squadron was at risk and the army suffered losses.—Private Letter of Suffren, Sept. 13, 1783; quoted in the "Journal de Bord du Bailli de Suffren."
CHAPTER XIII.ToC
Events in the West Indies after the Surrender of Yorktown—Encounters of De Grasse with Hood.—The Sea Battle of the Saints.—1781, 1782.
Events in the West Indies after the Surrender of Yorktown—Encounters of De Grasse with Hood.—The Sea Battle of the Saints.—1781, 1782.
The surrender of Cornwallis marked the end of the active war upon the American continent. The issue of the struggle was indeed assured upon the day when France devoted her sea power to the support of the colonists; but, as not uncommonly happens, the determining characteristics of a period were summed up in one striking event. From the beginning, the military question, owing to the physical characteristics of the country, a long seaboard with estuaries penetrating deep into the interior, and the consequent greater ease of movement by water than by land, had hinged upon the control of the sea and the use made of that control. Its misdirection by Sir William Howe in 1777, when he moved his army to the Chesapeake instead of supporting Burgoyne's advance, opened the way to the startling success at Saratoga, when amazed Europe saw six thousand regular troops surrendering to a body of provincials. During the four years that followed, until the surrender of Yorktown, the scales rose and fell according as the one navy or the other appeared on the scene, or as English commanders kept touch with the sea or pushed their operations far from its support. Finally, at the great crisis, all is found depending upon the question whether the French or the English fleet should first appear, and upon their relative force.
The surrender of Cornwallis marked the end of active fighting on the American continent. The outcome of the conflict was basically decided the day France committed her naval power to help the colonists; however, as often happens, the key features of a time period were encapsulated in one significant event. From the start, the military situation, due to the physical layout of the country—a long coastline with rivers extending deep inland—had relied on controlling the sea and how that control was utilized. Sir William Howe's poor decision in 1777 to move his troops to the Chesapeake instead of supporting Burgoyne’s advance led to the unexpected victory at Saratoga, where astonished Europe watched six thousand regular soldiers surrender to a group of local fighters. In the four years that followed, up until the surrender at Yorktown, fortunes shifted based on which navy showed up and whether English commanders maintained contact with the sea or operated far from its support. Ultimately, at the critical moment, everything hinged on which fleet—French or English—would arrive first and their relative strength.
The maritime struggle was at once transferred to the West Indies. The events which followed there were antecedent in time both to Suffren's battles and to the final relief of Gibraltar; but they stand so much by themselves as [469]to call for separate treatment, and have such close relation to the conclusion of the war and the conditions of peace, as to form the dramatic finale of the one and the stepping-stone of transition to the other. It is fitting indeed that a brilliant though indecisive naval victory should close the story of an essentially naval war.
The maritime struggle moved over to the West Indies. The events that followed there happened before Suffren's battles and the final relief of Gibraltar; however, they are significant enough [469] to deserve separate discussion, and they are closely tied to the end of the war and the peace negotiations, serving as both the dramatic conclusion of one and the transition to the other. It is quite fitting that a spectacular yet inconclusive naval victory should wrap up the narrative of a war that was fundamentally naval.
The capitulation of Yorktown was completed on the 19th of October, 1781, and on the 5th of November, De Grasse, resisting the suggestions of Lafayette and Washington that the fleet should aid in carrying the war farther south, sailed from the Chesapeake. He reached Martinique on the 26th, the day after the Marquis de Bouillé, commanding the French troops in the West Indies, had regained by a bold surprise the Dutch island of St. Eustatius. The two commanders now concerted a joint expedition against Barbadoes, which was frustrated by the violence of the trade winds.
The surrender of Yorktown was finalized on October 19, 1781, and on November 5, De Grasse, ignoring Lafayette and Washington’s advice to use the fleet to push the war further south, set sail from the Chesapeake. He arrived in Martinique on the 26th, the day after the Marquis de Bouillé, who was in charge of the French troops in the West Indies, reclaimed the Dutch island of St. Eustatius through a daring surprise attack. The two commanders then planned a joint mission against Barbados, but it was disrupted by strong trade winds.
Foiled here, the French proceeded against the island of St. Christopher, or St. Kitt's (Plate XVIII.). On the 11th of January, 1782, the fleet, carrying six thousand troops, anchored on the west coast off Basse Terre, the chief town. No opposition was met, the small garrison of six hundred men retiring to a fortified post ten miles to the northwest, on Brimstone Hill, a solitary precipitous height overlooking the lee shore of the island. The French troops landed and pursued, but the position being found too strong for assault, siege operations were begun.
Foiled here, the French moved against the island of St. Christopher, or St. Kitt's (Plate XVIII.). On January 11, 1782, the fleet, carrying six thousand troops, anchored on the west coast off Basse Terre, the main town. They faced no opposition, as the small garrison of six hundred men retreated to a fortified position ten miles to the northwest, at Brimstone Hill, a steep and isolated height overlooking the sheltered side of the island. The French troops landed and pursued, but found the position too strong for an assault, so they began siege operations.
The French fleet remained at anchor in Basse Terre road. Meanwhile, news of the attack was carried to Sir Samuel Hood, who had followed De Grasse from the continent, and, in the continued absence of Rodney, was naval commander-in-chief on the station. He sailed from Barbadoes on the 14th, anchored at Antigua on the 21st, and there embarked all the troops that could be spared,—about seven hundred men. On the afternoon of the 23d the fleet started for St. Kitt's, carrying such sail as would bring it within striking distance of the enemy at daylight next morning.
The French fleet stayed anchored in Basse Terre road. Meanwhile, news of the attack reached Sir Samuel Hood, who had followed De Grasse from the continent and was, in the ongoing absence of Rodney, the naval commander-in-chief in the area. He left Barbadoes on the 14th, anchored at Antigua on the 21st, and there took on all the troops that could be spared—about seven hundred men. On the afternoon of the 23rd, the fleet set off for St. Kitt's, sailing in a way that would put it within striking distance of the enemy at daybreak the next morning.
The English having but twenty-two ships to the French [470]twenty-nine, and the latter being generally superior in force, class for class, it is necessary to mark closely the lay of the land in order to understand Hood's original plans and their subsequent modifications; for, resultless as his attempt proved, his conduct during the next three weeks forms the most brilliant military effort of the whole war. The islands of St. Kitt's and Nevis (Plates XVIII. and XIX.) being separated only by a narrow channel, impracticable for ships-of-the-line, are in effect one, and their common axis lying northwest and southeast, it is necessary for sailing-ships, with the trade wind, to round the southern extremity of Nevis, from which position the wind is fair to reach all anchorages on the lee side of the islands. Basse Terre is about twelve miles distant from the western point of Nevis (Fort Charles), and its roadstead lies east and west. The French fleet were anchored there in disorder (Plate XVIII., A), three or four deep, not expecting attack, and the ships at the west end of the road could not reach those at the east without beating to windward,—a tedious, and under fire a perilous process. A further most important point to note is that all the eastern ships were so placed that vessels approaching from the southward could reach them with the usual wind.
The English had only twenty-two ships compared to the French's twenty-nine, and the French were generally stronger, ship for ship. Therefore, it's important to closely examine the geography to understand Hood's initial plans and the later changes he made. Although his attempt was ultimately fruitless, his actions over the next three weeks represent the most impressive military effort of the entire war. The islands of St. Kitt's and Nevis (Plates XVIII. and XIX.) are separated by a narrow channel that's unsuitable for ships-of-the-line, making them effectively one island. Their common axis runs northwest to southeast, requiring sailing ships to round the southern tip of Nevis to catch the trade wind, which allows them to access all the anchorages on the leeward side of the islands. Basse Terre is about twelve miles from the western tip of Nevis (Fort Charles), and its harbor runs east to west. The French fleet was anchored there in disarray (Plate XVIII., A), stacked three or four ships deep, not expecting an attack. The ships at the western end of the harbor couldn't reach those at the eastern end without sailing against the wind, which is a slow and dangerous maneuver under fire. Another crucial point is that all the eastern ships were positioned so that vessels coming from the south could easily reach them with the prevailing wind.
Hood, therefore, we are told, intended to appear at early daylight, in order of and ready for battle, and fall upon the eastern ships, filing by them with his whole fleet (a, a’), thus concentrating the fire of all upon a few of the enemy; then turning away, so as to escape the guns of the others, he proposed, first wearing and then tacking, to keep his fleet circling in long procession (a’, a’’) past that part of the enemy's ships chosen for attack. The plan was audacious, but undeniably sound in principle; some good could hardly fail to follow, and unless De Grasse showed more readiness than he had hitherto done, even decisive results might be hoped for.[194]
Hood, we are told, planned to show up at dawn, prepared for battle, and launch an attack on the eastern ships, moving past them with his entire fleet, concentrating all their fire on just a few enemy vessels. Then, to dodge the guns of the others, he intended to turn away, tacking and circling his fleet in a long procession past the selected targets of the enemy. The plan was bold but clearly sound in principle; some positive outcomes were likely, and if De Grasse wasn't more prepared than he had been so far, even significant results could be expected.[194]
[471]The best-laid plans, however, may fail, and Hood's was balked by the awkwardness of a lieutenant of the watch, who hove-to (stopped) a frigate at night ahead of the fleet, and was consequently run down by a ship-of-the-line. The latter also received such injury as delayed the movement, several hours being lost in repairing damages. The French were thus warned of the enemy's approach, and although not suspecting his intention to attack, De Grasse feared that Hood would pass down to leeward of him and disturb the siege of Brimstone Hill,—an undertaking so rash for an inferior force that it is as difficult to conceive how he could have supposed it, as to account for his overlooking the weakness of his own position at anchor.
[471]The best plans, however, can go wrong, and Hood's plans were disrupted by an inexperienced watch lieutenant who stopped a frigate at night in front of the fleet, resulting in it being rammed by a ship-of-the-line. The latter also sustained damage that delayed their operations, wasting several hours on repairs. The French were thus alerted to the enemy's approach, and although they didn’t suspect Hood intended to attack, De Grasse was concerned that Hood might maneuver downwind of him and disrupt the siege of Brimstone Hill—a move so reckless for a smaller force that it’s hard to understand how he could have thought it would work, as well as how he overlooked the vulnerabilities of his own position at anchor.
At one P.M. of the 24th the English fleet was seen rounding the south end of Nevis; at three De Grasse got under way and stood to the southward. Toward sundown Hood also went about and stood south, as though retreating; but he was well to windward of his opponent, and maintained this advantage through the night. At daybreak both fleets were to leeward of Nevis,—the English near the island, the French about nine miles distant (Plate XIX.). Some time was spent in manœuvring, with the object on Hood's part of getting the French admiral yet more to leeward; for, having failed in his first attempt, he had formed the yet bolder intention of seizing the anchorage his unskilful opponent had left, and establishing himself there in an impregnable manner. In this he succeeded, as will be shown; but to understand the justification for a movement confessedly hazardous, it must be pointed out that he thus would place himself between the besiegers of Brimstone Hill and their fleet; or if the latter anchored near the hill, the English fleet would be between it and its base in Martinique, ready to intercept supplies or detachments approaching from the southward. In short, the position in which Hood hoped to establish himself was on the flank of the enemy's communications, a position the more advantageous because the island alone could not long support the large body of troops [472]so suddenly thrown upon it. Moreover, both fleets were expecting reinforcements; Rodney was on his way and might arrive first, which he did, and in time to save St. Kitt's, which he did not. It was also but four months since Yorktown; the affairs of England were going badly; something must be done, something left to chance, and Hood knew himself and his officers. It may be added that he knew his opponent.
At 1 PM on the 24th, the English fleet was spotted rounding the south end of Nevis; by 3, De Grasse set sail and headed south. As the sun was setting, Hood also turned south, seemingly in retreat; however, he was well upwind of his opponent and maintained this advantage throughout the night. At dawn, both fleets were downwind of Nevis—the English close to the island and the French about nine miles away (Plate XIX.). They spent some time maneuvering, with Hood aiming to push the French admiral further downwind; after failing in his first attempt, he boldly decided to take over the anchorage left by his inexperienced opponent and secure it in a strong position. He succeeded in this, as will be detailed; but to understand the rationale behind this risky maneuver, it's important to note that he aimed to position himself between the besiegers of Brimstone Hill and their fleet. If the latter anchored near the hill, the English fleet would then be between it and its base in Martinique, ready to cut off supplies or reinforcements coming from the south. In short, Hood hoped to place himself on the flank of the enemy's supply lines, a position made even more advantageous because the island couldn't support such a large number of troops [472] that had been suddenly deployed there. Moreover, both fleets were expecting reinforcements; Rodney was on his way and could arrive first, which he did, although he failed to save St. Kitt's. It was also just four months since Yorktown; things weren’t going well for England, and something had to be done, even if it was risky, and Hood understood both himself and his officers. He also had a good understanding of his opponent.
At noon, when the hillsides of Nevis were covered with expectant and interested sightseers, the English fleet rapidly formed its line on the starboard tack and headed north for Basse Terre (Plate XIX., A, A’). The French, at the moment, were in column steering south, but went about at once and stood for the enemy in a bow-and-quarter line[195] (A, A). At two the British had got far enough for Hood to make signal to anchor. At twenty minutes past two the van of the French came within gunshot of the English centre (B, B, B), and shortly afterward the firing began, the assailants very properly directing their main effort upon the English rear ships, which, as happens with most long columns, had opened out, a tendency increased in this case by the slowness of the fourth ship from the rear, the "Prudent." The French flag-ship, "Ville de Paris," of one hundred and twenty guns, bearing De Grasse's flag, pushed for the gap thus made, but was foiled by the "Canada," seventy-four, whose captain, Cornwallis, the brother of Lord Cornwallis, threw all his sails aback, and dropped down in front of the huge enemy to the support of the rear,—an example nobly followed by the "Resolution" and the "Bedford" immediately ahead of him (a). The scene was now varied and animated in the extreme. The English van, which had escaped attack, was rapidly anchoring (b) in its appointed position. The commander-in-chief in the centre, proudly reliant upon the skill and conduct of his captains, made [473]signal for the ships ahead to carry a press of sail, and gain their positions regardless of the danger to the threatened rear. The latter, closely pressed and outnumbered, stood on unswervingly, shortened sail, and came to anchor, one by one, in a line ahead (B, B’), under the roar of the guns of their baffled enemies. The latter filed by, delivered their fire, and bore off again to the southward, leaving their former berths to their weaker but clever antagonists.
At noon, when the hillsides of Nevis were filled with eager and curious spectators, the English fleet quickly arranged its line on the starboard tack and headed north towards Basse Terre (Plate XIX., A, A'). At that moment, the French were in a column moving south but immediately turned around and advanced toward the enemy in a bow-and-quarter line[195] (A, A). By two o'clock, the British had moved far enough for Hood to signal to anchor. At twenty minutes past two, the front of the French fleet came within range of the English center (B, B, B), and shortly after, the firing began. The assailants correctly focused their main effort on the English rear ships, which, as often happens with long columns, had spread out. This was worsened by the slow pace of the fourth ship from the back, the "Prudent." The French flagship, "Ville de Paris," with one hundred and twenty guns, carrying De Grasse's flag, aimed for the gap created but was blocked by the "Canada," a seventy-four. Its captain, Cornwallis, brother of Lord Cornwallis, quickly backed all his sails and moved in front of the massive enemy to support the rear—a brave act that was mirrored by the "Resolution" and the "Bedford," right ahead of him (a). The scene was now exceptionally lively and dynamic. The English van, having avoided the attack, was rapidly anchoring (b) in its designated position. The commander-in-chief in the center, confident in the skill and leadership of his captains, signaled for the ships ahead to set full sail and secure their positions, regardless of the danger faced by the threatened rear. Meanwhile, the rear, tightly pressed and outnumbered, held firm, shortened sail, and anchored one by one in a line ahead (B, B’), under the heavy cannon fire from their frustrated enemies. The latter passed by, fired their shots, and turned back south, leaving their previous positions to their weaker but clever opponents.
The anchorage thus brilliantly taken by Hood was not exactly the same as that held by De Grasse the day before; but as it covered and controlled it, his claim that he took up the place the other had left is substantially correct. The following night and morning were spent in changing and strengthening the order, which was finally established as follows (Plate XVIII., B, B’). The van ship was anchored about four miles southeast from Basse Terre, so close to the shore that a ship could not pass inside her, nor, with the prevailing wind, even reach her, because of a point and shoal just outside, covering her position. From this point the line extended in a west-northwest direction to the twelfth or thirteenth ship (from a mile and a quarter to a mile and a half), where it turned gradually but rapidly to north, the last six ships being on a north and south line. Hood's flag-ship, the "Barfleur," of ninety guns, was at the apex of the salient angle thus formed.
The anchorage that Hood skillfully took was not exactly the same as the one held by De Grasse the day before; however, since it covered and controlled it, his claim that he occupied the spot left by the other is essentially correct. The following night and morning were spent adjusting and strengthening the order, which was finally set up as follows (Plate XVIII., B, B'). The leading ship was anchored about four miles southeast of Basse Terre, so close to the shore that no ship could pass in front of her, and, with the prevailing wind, it couldn’t even reach her due to a point and shoal just outside that covered her position. From this point, the line extended in a west-northwest direction to the twelfth or thirteenth ship (from a mile and a quarter to a mile and a half), where it gradually but quickly turned north, with the last six ships aligned north and south. Hood's flagship, the "Barfleur," with ninety guns, was at the tip of the angle formed.
It would not have been impossible for the French fleet to take the anchorage they formerly held; but it and all others to leeward were forbidden by the considerations already stated, so long as Hood remained where he was. It became necessary therefore to dislodge him, but this was rendered exceedingly difficult by the careful tactical dispositions that have been described. His left flank was covered by the shore. Any attempt to enfilade his front by passing along the other flank was met by the broadsides of the six or eight ships drawn up en potence to the rear. The front commanded the approaches to Basse Terre. To attack him in the rear, from the northwest, was forbidden [474]by the trade-wind. To these difficulties was to be added that the attack must be made under sail against ships at anchor, to whom loss of spars would be of no immediate concern; and which, having springs[196] out, could train their broadsides over a large area with great ease.
It wouldn't have been impossible for the French fleet to retake the anchorage they previously held; however, that location and all others downwind were off-limits due to the reasons mentioned earlier, as long as Hood remained in position. Therefore, it was necessary to dislodge him, but this was made extremely challenging by the careful tactical arrangements that have been described. His left flank was protected by the shore. Any attempt to flank him by moving along the other side was met with the cannons of the six or eight ships positioned en potence at the back. The front controlled the approaches to Basse Terre. Attacking him from behind, coming from the northwest, was impossible due to the trade winds. On top of these challenges, the attack would need to be carried out under sail against anchored ships, which wouldn't be immediately concerned about losing masts; and which, having springs[196] deployed, could easily aim their cannons over a wide area.
Nevertheless, both sound policy and mortification impelled De Grasse to fight, which he did the next day, January 26. The method of attack, in single column of twenty-nine ships against a line so carefully arranged, was faulty in the extreme; but it may be doubted whether any commander of that day would have broken through the traditional fighting order.[197] Hood had intended the same, but he hoped a surprise on an ill-ordered enemy, and at the original French anchorage it was possible to reach their eastern ships, with but slight exposure to concentrated fire. Not so now. The French formed to the southward and steered for the eastern flank of Hood's line. As their van ship drew up with the point already mentioned, the wind headed her, so that she could only reach the third in the English order, the first four ships of which, using their springs, concentrated their guns upon her. This vessel was supposed by the English to be the "Pluton," and if so, her captain was D'Albert de Rions, in Suffren's opinion the foremost officer of the French navy. "The crash occasioned by their destructive broadsides," wrote an English officer who was present, "was so tremendous that whole pieces of plank were seen flying from her off side ere she could escape the cool, concentrated fire of her determined adversaries. As she proceeded along the British line, she received the first fire of every ship in [475]passing. She was indeed in so shattered a state as to be compelled to bear away for St. Eustatius." And so ship after ship passed by, running the length of the line (Plate XVIII., B, B), distributing their successive fires in gallant but dreary, ineffectual monotony over the whole extent. A second time that day De Grasse attacked in the same order, but neglecting the English van, directed his effort upon the rear and centre. This was equally fruitless, and seems to have been done with little spirit.
Nevertheless, both sound policy and a sense of duty pushed De Grasse to fight, which he did the next day, January 26. The method of attack, in a single column of twenty-nine ships against a line so carefully arranged, was extremely flawed; however, it’s doubtful that any commander of that time would have deviated from the traditional fighting order.[197] Hood intended to do the same, but he hoped to surprise a disorganized enemy, and at the original French anchorage, it was possible to approach their eastern ships with minimal exposure to concentrated fire. Not this time. The French positioned themselves to the south and headed for the eastern flank of Hood's line. As their lead ship approached the point previously mentioned, the wind shifted, so that she could only reach the third ship in the English order, the first four ships of which, utilizing their springs, aimed their guns at her. This vessel was believed by the English to be the "Pluton," and if so, her captain was D'Albert de Rions, regarded by Suffren as the best officer in the French navy. "The crash caused by their devastating broadsides," wrote an English officer who was present, "was so tremendous that whole pieces of plank were seen flying from her side before she could escape the cool, concentrated fire of her determined adversaries. As she moved along the British line, she took the first fire from every ship in [475]passing. She was indeed so badly damaged that she had to retreat toward St. Eustatius." And so ship after ship passed by, running the length of the line (Plate XVIII., B, B), delivering their successive fires in a brave but disheartening and ineffective monotony over the entire stretch. A second time that day De Grasse attacked in the same formation, but ignoring the English van, he directed his efforts toward the rear and center. This too was fruitless and appeared to be done with little enthusiasm.
From that time until the 14th of February, Hood maintained his position in sight of the French fleet, which remained cruising in the offing and to the southward. On the 1st a despatch vessel arrived from Kempenfeldt, informing him of the dispersal of the French reinforcements for the West Indies, which must have renewed his hopes that his bold attempt would be successful through Rodney's arrival. It was not, however, to be so. Brimstone Hill surrendered on the 12th, after a creditable defence. On the 13th De Grasse took his fleet, now amounting to thirty-three ships-of-the-line, to Nevis, and anchored there. On the night of the 14th Hood summoned all his captains on board, had them set their watches by his, and at eleven P.M., one after another, without noise or signal, cut their cables and made sail to the northward, passing round that end of the island unnoticed, or at least unmolested, by the French.
From that time until February 14th, Hood stayed positioned in view of the French fleet, which remained cruising offshore to the south. On the 1st, a dispatch vessel arrived from Kempenfeldt, informing him that the French reinforcements for the West Indies had been scattered, which likely renewed his hopes that his bold move would succeed with Rodney's arrival. However, that was not the case. Brimstone Hill surrendered on the 12th after a respectable defense. On the 13th, De Grasse took his fleet, which now had thirty-three ships-of-the-line, to Nevis and anchored there. On the night of the 14th, Hood called all his captains on board, had them synchronize their watches with his, and at eleven PM, one by one, without noise or signal, cut their cables and set sail northward, passing around that end of the island unnoticed or at least unchallenged by the French.
Both strategically and tactically Hood's conceptions and dispositions were excellent, and their execution was most honorable to the skill and steadiness of himself and his captains. Regarded as a single military operation, this was brilliant throughout; but when considered with reference to the general situation of England at the time, a much higher estimate must be formed of the admiral's qualities.[198] St. Kitt's [476]in itself might not be worth a great risk; but it was of the first importance that energy and audacity should be carried into the conduct of England's naval war, that some great success should light upon her flag. Material success was not obtained. The chances, though fair enough, turned against Hood; but every man in that fleet must have felt the glow of daring achievement, the assured confidence which follows a great deed nobly done. Had this man been in chief command when greater issues were at stake, had he been first instead of second at the Chesapeake, Cornwallis might have been saved. The operation—seizing an anchorage left by the enemy—would have been nearly the same; and both situations may be instructively compared with Suffren's relief of Cuddalore.
Both strategically and tactically, Hood's ideas and plans were excellent, and their execution showed great skill and steadiness from him and his commanders. Seen as a single military operation, this was impressive throughout; but when looking at the overall situation in England at the time, we must think much more highly of the admiral's qualities.[198] St. Kitt's [476] may not have been worth a significant risk on its own; however, it was crucial for energy and boldness to be applied to England's naval efforts, and for a major victory to bolster her flag. No material success was achieved. The chances, though seemingly good, turned against Hood; but everyone in that fleet must have felt the thrill of daring achievement, the confidence that follows a great deed well done. If this man had been in command when bigger stakes were involved, if he had been the leader instead of the second in charge at the Chesapeake, Cornwallis might have been spared. The operation—taking over an anchorage abandoned by the enemy—would have been nearly the same; and both occasions can be compared with Suffren's relief of Cuddalore.
The action of De Grasse, also, should be considered not only with reference to the particular occasion, but to the general condition of the war as well, and when thus weighed, and further compared with other very similar opportunities neglected by this general officer, a fair estimate of his military capacity can be reached. This comparison, however, is better deferred to the now not very distant close of the campaign. The most useful comment to be made here is, that his action in failing to crush Hood at his anchors, with a force at least fifty per cent greater, was in strict accordance with the general French principle of subordinating the action of the fleet to so-called particular operations; for nothing is more instructive than to note how an unsound principle results in disastrous action. Hood's inferiority was such as to weaken, for offensive purposes, his commanding position. So long [477]as De Grasse kept to windward, he maintained his communications with Martinique, and he was strong enough, too, to force communication when necessary with the troops before Brimstone Hill. It was probable, as the event showed, that the particular operation, the reduction of St. Kitt's, would succeed despite the presence of the English fleet; and "the French navy has always preferred the glory of assuring a conquest to that, more brilliant perhaps but less real, of taking a few ships."
The actions of De Grasse should be viewed not just in light of the specific situation, but also in the broader context of the war. When we evaluate this, and compare it with other similar opportunities missed by this general officer, we can arrive at a clearer assessment of his military capabilities. However, it’s better to delay this comparison until the relatively near end of the campaign. The most relevant point to make here is that his failure to defeat Hood while commanding a force at least fifty percent larger was consistent with the typical French strategy of prioritizing specific operations over fleet actions. It’s insightful to note how flawed principles can lead to poor outcomes. Hood's weaknesses were significant enough to undermine his commanding position for offensive actions. As long as De Grasse held the windward position, he maintained his connections with Martinique and was strong enough to reinforce communication with the troops at Brimstone Hill when necessary. As later events revealed, the specific operation to capture St. Kitt's likely would have succeeded even with the English fleet present; after all, "the French navy has always preferred the glory of securing a conquest over the perhaps more glamorous yet less substantive achievement of capturing a few ships."
So far De Grasse may be acquitted of any error beyond that of not rising above the traditions of his service. Some days, however, before the surrender of the island and the departure of the English fleet, he was joined by two ships-of-the-line which brought him word of the dispersal of the expected convoy and reinforcements from Europe.[199] He then knew that he himself could not be strengthened before Rodney's arrival, and that by that event the English would be superior to him. He had actually thirty-three ships-of-the-line in hand, and a few miles off lay twenty-two English in a position where he knew they would await his attack; yet he let them escape. His own explanation implies clearly that he had no intention of attacking them at anchor:—
So far, De Grasse can be cleared of any mistakes except for not rising above the customs of his service. However, a few days before the island's surrender and the departure of the English fleet, he received two ships-of-the-line that informed him the expected convoy and reinforcements from Europe had been scattered.[199] He realized he wouldn't get any reinforcements before Rodney arrived, and that with Rodney's arrival the English would be stronger than him. He actually had thirty-three ships-of-the-line at his disposal, and just a few miles away were twenty-two English ships waiting for him to attack; yet he allowed them to slip away. His own explanation clearly indicates that he had no plans to attack them while they were anchored:—
"The day after the capitulation of Brimstone Hill was the moment to watch Hood closely, and to fight him as soon as he got under way from the conquered island. But our provisions were exhausted; We had only enough for thirty-six hours. Some supply-ships had arrived at Nevis, and you will admit one must live before fighting. I went to Nevis, always to windward and in sight of the enemy, a league and a half from him, in order to take on board the necessary supplies as rapidly as possible. Hood decamped at night without signals, and the next morning I found only the sick whom he left behind."[200]
"The day after Brimstone Hill surrendered was the moment to keep a close eye on Hood and engage him as soon as he left the captured island. But our supplies were running low; we only had enough for thirty-six hours. Some supply ships had reached Nevis, and let's be honest, you have to eat before you can fight. I made my way to Nevis, always upwind and within sight of the enemy, about a mile and a half away, to quickly gather the essential supplies. Hood left under the cover of night without any notice, and the next morning I found only the sick he had abandoned." [200]
In other words, Hood having held his ground with consummate audacity and skill, when he had some chance of [478]successful resistance, declined to await his adversary's attack under conditions overwhelmingly unfavorable. What shall be said of this talk about provisions? Did not the Comte de Grasse know a month before how long, to a day, the supplies on board would last? Did he not know, four days before Hood sailed, that he had with him every ship he could probably count on for the approaching campaign, while the English would surely be reinforced? And if the English position was as strong as good judgment, professional skill, and bold hearts could make it, had it not weak points? Were not the lee ships to leeward? If they did attempt to beat to windward, had he not ships to "contain" them? If the van ship could not be reached, had he not force enough to double and treble on the third and following ships, as far down the line as he chose? A letter of Suffren's, referring to a similar condition of things at Santa Lucia,[201] but written three years before these events, seems almost a prophetic description of them:—
In other words, Hood stood his ground with amazing confidence and skill when he had some chance of successful resistance, choosing not to wait for his opponent's attack under conditions that were clearly against him. What should we make of this talk about supplies? Didn’t Comte de Grasse know a month before exactly how long the supplies on board would last? Didn’t he know, four days before Hood set sail, that he had every ship he could reasonably count on for the upcoming campaign while the English would definitely be getting reinforcements? And if the English position was as strong as solid judgment, professional expertise, and brave hearts could make it, didn't it also have its weak points? Were the ships to leeward not in a vulnerable position? If they tried to sail against the wind, didn’t he have ships to contain them? If the lead ship could not be reached, didn’t he have enough force to double and triple on the third and subsequent ships, as far down the line as he wanted? A letter from Suffren, referring to a similar situation at Santa Lucia, but written three years before these events, seems almost like a prophetic description of them:—
"Notwithstanding the slight results of the two cannonades of December 15 [1778], we can yet expect success; but the only way to attain it is to attack vigorously the squadron, which in consequence of our superiority cannot hold out, despite their land works, which will become of no effect if we lay them on board, or anchor upon their buoys. If we delay, a thousand circumstances may save them. They may profit by the night to depart."
"Despite the minimal outcomes of the two cannonades on December 15 [1778], we can still look forward to success; however, the only way to achieve this is to aggressively attack the squadron, which, due to our superiority, cannot withstand, regardless of their fortifications, which will become irrelevant if we board them or anchor on their buoys. If we wait, a multitude of factors might allow them to escape. They could take advantage of the night to leave."
There can be no doubt that the English would have sold their defeat dearly; but results in war must be paid for, and the best are in the long run the cheapest. A tight grip of a few simple principles—that the enemy's fleet was the controlling factor in the coming campaign, that it was therefore his true objective, that one fraction of it must be crushed without delay when caught thus separated—would have saved De Grasse a great blunder; but it is only fair to note that it would have made him an exception to the practice of the French navy.
There’s no doubt that the English would have fought hard to avoid losing; however, in war, you have to pay for results, and the best outcomes are usually the most cost-effective in the long run. Holding on to a few straightforward principles—that the enemy's fleet was the key factor in the upcoming campaign, that it was therefore the main target, and that one part of it should be taken out quickly when it was isolated—could have saved De Grasse from a major mistake. But it’s important to point out that this would have made him an exception to how the French navy typically operated.
The hour was now close at hand when the French admiral [479]should feel, even if he did not admit, the consequences of this mistake, by which he had won a paltry island and lost an English fleet. Rodney had sailed from Europe on the 15th of January, with twelve ships-of-the-line. On the 19th of February he anchored at Barbadoes, and the same day Hood reached Antigua from St. Kitt's. On the 25th the squadrons of Rodney and Hood met to windward of Antigua, forming a united fleet of thirty-four ships-of-the-line. The next day De Grasse anchored in Fort Royal, thus escaping the pursuit which Rodney at once began. The English admiral then returned to Sta. Lucia, where he was joined by three more ships-of-the-line from England, raising his force to thirty-seven. Knowing that a large convoy was expected from France, before the arrival of which nothing could be attempted, Rodney sent a part of his fleet to cruise to windward and as far north as Guadeloupe; but the officer in charge of the French convoy, suspecting this action, kept well north of that island, and reached Fort Royal, Martinique, on the 20th of March. The ships-of-war with him raised De Grasse's fleet to thirty-three effective sail-of-the-line and two fifty-gun ships.
The hour was now approaching when the French admiral [479] would feel, even if he didn’t admit it, the consequences of his mistake, by which he had gained a small island and lost an English fleet. Rodney had set sail from Europe on January 15th with twelve ships-of-the-line. By February 19th, he anchored at Barbados, and on the same day, Hood arrived in Antigua from St. Kitt's. On the 25th, Rodney and Hood's squadrons met to the windward of Antigua, creating a combined fleet of thirty-four ships-of-the-line. The next day, De Grasse anchored in Fort Royal, managing to escape the pursuit that Rodney immediately began. The English admiral then returned to St. Lucia, where he was joined by three more ships-of-the-line from England, bringing his force to thirty-seven. Knowing that a large convoy from France was expected, and that nothing could be attempted before its arrival, Rodney sent part of his fleet to cruise to windward and as far north as Guadeloupe; however, the officer in charge of the French convoy, suspecting this maneuver, stayed well north of that island and reached Fort Royal, Martinique, on March 20th. With him were ships-of-war that increased De Grasse's fleet to thirty-three effective ships-of-the-line and two fifty-gun ships.
The object of the united efforts of France and Spain this year was the conquest of Jamaica. It was expected to unite at Cap Français (now Cap Haïtien), in Hayti, fifty ships-of-the-line and twenty thousand troops. Part of the latter were already at the rendezvous; and De Grasse, appointed to command the combined fleets, was to collect in Martinique all the available troops and supplies in the French islands, and convoy them to the rendezvous. It was this junction that Rodney was charged to prevent.
The goal of the combined efforts of France and Spain this year was to conquer Jamaica. They planned to gather fifty warships and twenty thousand troops at Cap Français (now Cap Haïtien) in Haiti. Some of the troops were already at the meeting point, and De Grasse, who was given command of the joint fleets, was supposed to gather all available troops and supplies from the French islands in Martinique and lead them to the rendezvous. Rodney was tasked with preventing this meeting from happening.
The region within which occurred the important operations of the next few days covers a distance of one hundred and fifty miles, from south to north, including the islands of Sta. Lucia, Martinique, Dominica, and Guadeloupe, in the order named. (See Plate XI. p. 378.) At this time the first was in English, the others in French, hands. The final, and for the moment decisive, encounter took place between, and a little [480]to westward of, Dominica and Guadeloupe. These are twenty-three miles apart; but the channel is narrowed to thirteen by three islets called the Saints, lying ten miles south of Guadeloupe. It is said to have been De Grasse's intention, instead of sailing direct for Cap Français,[202] to take a circuitous course near the islands, which, being friendly or neutral, would give refuge to the convoy if pressed. The close pursuit of the English, who came up with him off Dominica, led him to forsake this plan, sending the convoy into Basse Terre at the south end of Guadeloupe, while with the fleet he tried to beat through the channel and pass east of the island, thus drawing the English away from the transports and ridding himself of the tactical embarrassment due to the latter's presence. Accidents to various ships thwarted this attempt, and brought about a battle disastrous to him and fatal to the joint enterprise.
The area where the significant operations took place over the next few days spans about one hundred and fifty miles from south to north, including the islands of St. Lucia, Martinique, Dominica, and Guadeloupe in that order. (See Plate XI. p. 378.) At this time, St. Lucia was under English control, while the others were under French control. The final and decisive encounter happened between, and just a little west of, Dominica and Guadeloupe. These islands are twenty-three miles apart, but the channel is narrowed to thirteen miles by three small islands known as the Saints, which are located ten miles south of Guadeloupe. It's said that De Grasse planned to take a longer route near the islands, which were friendly or neutral, providing a safe haven for the convoy if needed, instead of sailing straight to Cap Français. However, the close pursuit by the English, who caught up with him off Dominica, forced him to abandon this plan, sending the convoy into Basse Terre at the southern end of Guadeloupe, while he tried to navigate the fleet through the channel to pass east of the island, thereby drawing the English away from the transports and getting rid of the tactical disadvantage caused by their presence. Unfortunately, issues with various ships disrupted this strategy, leading to a disastrous battle for him and proving fatal to the joint mission.
The anchorages of the two fleets, in Martinique and Sta. Lucia, were thirty miles apart. The prevailing east wind is generally fair to pass from one to the other; but a strong westerly current, and the frequency of calms and light airs, tend to throw to leeward sailing-ships leaving Sta. Lucia for the northern island. A chain of frigates connected the English lookout ships off Martinique, by signal, with Rodney's flag-ship in Gros Ilot Bay. Everything was astir at the two stations, the French busy with the multitudinous arrangements necessitated by a great military undertaking, the English with less to do, yet maintaining themselves in a state of expectancy and preparation for instant action, that entails constant alertness and mental activity.
The anchorages of the two fleets, in Martinique and St. Lucia, were thirty miles apart. The prevailing east wind usually makes it easy to travel between them; however, a strong westerly current, along with frequent calm and light winds, tends to push sailing ships leaving St. Lucia toward the south. A chain of frigates connected the British lookout ships off Martinique to Rodney's flagship in Gros Ilot Bay using signals. Everything was in motion at both locations, with the French busy managing the many details required for a large military operation, while the British had less to do but remained in a state of readiness and prepared for immediate action, which required constant alertness and mental engagement.
On the 5th of April Rodney was informed that the soldiers were being embarked, and on the 8th, soon after daylight, the lookout frigates were seen making signal that the enemy was leaving port. The English fleet at once began to get under way, and by noon was clear of the harbor to the number of thirty-six of the line. At half-past two P.M. the advanced frigates were in sight of the French fleet, which was [481]seen from the mastheads of the main body just before sundown. The English stood to the northward all night, and at daybreak of the 9th were abreast Dominica, but for the most part becalmed. In-shore of them, to the northward and eastward, were seen the French fleet and convoy: the men-of-war numbering thirty-three of the line, besides smaller vessels; the convoy a hundred and fifty sail, under special charge of the two fifty-gun ships. The irregular and uncertain winds, common to the night and early hours of the day near the land, had scattered these unwieldy numbers. Fifteen sail-of-the-line were in the channel between Dominica and the Saints, with a fresh trade-wind, apparently beating to windward; the remainder of the ships-of-war and most of the convoy were still becalmed close under Dominica (Plate XX., Position I, b). Gradually, however, one by one, the French ships were catching light airs off the land; and by favor of these, which did not reach so far as the English in the offing, drew out from the island and entered the more steady breeze of the channel, reinforcing the group which was thus possessed of that prime element of naval power, mobility. At the same time light airs from the southeast crept out to the English van under Hood, fanning it gently north from the main body of the fleet toward two isolated French ships (i), which, having fallen to leeward during the night, had shared the calms that left the English motionless, with their heads all round the compass. They had come nearly within gunshot, when a light puff from the northwest enabled the Frenchmen to draw away and approach their own ships in the channel.
On April 5th, Rodney was told that the soldiers were being loaded onto ships, and on the 8th, shortly after daybreak, the lookout frigates signaled that the enemy was leaving port. The English fleet immediately began to set sail, and by noon, 36 ships of the line were clear of the harbor. At 2:30 P.M., the advanced frigates sighted the French fleet, which was seen from the main body’s mastheads just before sunset. The English headed north all night, and by dawn on the 9th, they were off Dominica, but mostly becalmed. To their north and east, they could see the French fleet and convoy: the men-of-war totaling 33 ships of the line, in addition to smaller vessels; the convoy comprised 150 ships, under the command of two fifty-gun ships. The irregular and uncertain winds typical near the land at night and early morning had scattered these large numbers. Fifteen ships of the line were in the channel between Dominica and the Saints, with a fresh trade wind apparently moving against them; the remaining warships and most of the convoy were still becalmed close to Dominica (Plate XX., Position I, b). Gradually, however, one by one, the French ships started catching light breezes off the land; with the help of these, which didn’t reach as far as the English offshore, they sailed out from the island into the steadier breeze of the channel, enhancing the group's key naval strength: mobility. At the same time, light winds from the southeast drifted toward the English van under Hood, gently pushing it north away from the main body of the fleet toward two isolated French ships (i), which, having drifted downwind during the night, were caught in the same calm that left the English motionless, with their bows pointing in all directions. They had nearly come within gunshot when a light gust from the northwest allowed the Frenchmen to pull away and return to their own ships in the channel.
The farther the English van advanced, the fresher grew their wind, until they fairly opened the channel of the Saints and felt the trade-wind. De Grasse signalled to the convoy to put into Guadeloupe, which order was so well carried out that they were all out of sight to the northward by two in the afternoon, and will appear no more in the sequel. The two French ships, already spoken of as fallen to leeward, not being yet out of danger from the English van, which had now [482]a commanding breeze, and the latter being much separated from their rear and centre, De Grasse ordered his van to bear down and engage. This was obeyed by the ships signalled and by three others, in all by fourteen or fifteen, the action beginning at half-past nine A.M., and lasting with intermissions until quarter-past one P.M. Hood was soon forced to heave-to, in order not to increase too much his separation from the main fleet; the French kept under way, approaching from the rear and passing in succession at half cannon-shot to windward (Plate XX., Position I.). As each ship drew ahead of the English division, she tacked, standing back to the southward until in position to resume her place in the order of attack, thus describing a continuous irregular curve of elliptical form, to windward of their opponents. The brunt of the attack fell upon eight or nine of the English, this number being successively increased as one ship after another, as the baffling airs served, drew out from the calm space under Dominica; but the French received similar accessions. While this engagement was going on, part of the English centre, eight ships with Rodney's flag among them (Position I., a), by carefully watching the puffs and cat's-paws, had worked in with the land and caught the sea breeze, which was felt there sooner than in the offing. As soon as they had it, about eleven A.M., they stood to the north, being now on the weather quarter[203] both of the English van and its assailants (Position II., a). The latter, seeing this, tacked, and abandoning the contest for the moment, steered south to join their centre, lest Rodney's eight ships should get between them. At half-past eleven the French again formed line on the starboard tack, most of their ships being now clear of the land, while the English rear was still becalmed. The greater numbers of the French enabled them to extend from north to south along the length of the English line, whereas the latter was still broken by a great gap between the van and centre (Position II.). The attack upon Hood was [483]therefore hotly renewed; but the French centre and rear (b), having the wind, kept their distance, and held Rodney's division at long range. At quarter-past one the French, finding that the whole British line was coming up with the wind, ceased firing, and at two Rodney hauled down the signal for battle, the enemy having withdrawn.
The farther the English van moved forward, the stronger the wind became, until they opened the channel of the Saints and felt the trade wind. De Grasse signaled to the convoy to head into Guadeloupe, and they executed the order so well that by two in the afternoon, they were out of sight to the north, and we won't see them again. The two French ships, mentioned earlier as having fallen behind, were still in danger from the English van, which now had a strong breeze, and the latter had separated significantly from their rear and center. De Grasse ordered his van to move down and engage. This was followed by the ships that received the signal and three others, totaling about fourteen or fifteen ships, with the action beginning at half-past nine in the morning and lasting with breaks until quarter past one in the afternoon. Hood was soon forced to stop to avoid drifting too far from the main fleet; the French, however, kept moving forward, approaching from the back and passing successively at half cannon-shot to windward (Plate XX., Position I.). As each ship moved ahead of the English division, it tacked back to the south until it was ready to take its place in the attack order, creating a continuous irregular elliptical curve to windward of their opponents. The brunt of the attack fell on eight or nine English ships, and this number gradually increased as one ship after another came out from the calm area under Dominica; the French also gained similar reinforcements. While this battle was underway, part of the English center, eight ships with Rodney’s flag among them (Position I., a), by carefully observing the puffs and shifts in the wind, worked closer to the land and caught the sea breeze, which was felt there before it reached the open waters. As soon as they got it, around eleven in the morning, they headed north, now on the weather quarter of both the English van and its attackers (Position II., a). The attackers, seeing this, tacked and momentarily abandoned the fight to steer south and rejoin their center, so Rodney’s eight ships wouldn’t get between them. At half-past eleven, the French again formed a line on the starboard tack, with most of their ships clear of the land, while the English rear remained stuck in calm waters. The greater number of French ships allowed them to stretch from north to south along the entire length of the English line, whereas the English were still fragmented by a large gap between the van and center (Position II.). The attack on Hood was therefore ramped up; however, the French center and rear (b), having the wind advantage, kept their distance and maintained long-range fire on Rodney's division. At quarter past one, the French, noticing that the entire British line was catching up with the wind, stopped firing, and at two, Rodney lowered the battle signal, as the enemy had retreated.
This action of the 9th of April amounted actually to no more than an artillery duel. One French ship, the "Caton," a sixty-four (d), received injuries which sent her into Guadeloupe; two English were disabled, but repaired their injuries without leaving the fleet. The material advantage, therefore, lay with the latter. Opinions differ as to the generalship of the Comte de Grasse on this day, but they divide on the same basis of principle as to whether ulterior operations, or the chances of beating the enemy's fleet, are to determine an admiral's action. The facts of the case are these: Sixteen of the English fleet, all the rear and four of the centre (Position II., c), were not able at any time to fire a shot. Apparently every French ship, first and last, might have been brought into action. At the beginning, eight or nine English were opposed to fifteen French. At the end there were twenty English to thirty-three French, and these general proportions doubtless obtained throughout the four hours. De Grasse therefore found himself in the presence of a fleet superior to his own, in numbers at least, and by the favor of Providence that fleet so divided that nearly half of it was powerless to act. He had the wind, he had a fine body of captains; what was to prevent him from attacking Hood's nine ships with fifteen, putting one on each side of the six in the rear. Had those nine been thoroughly beaten, Rodney's further movements must have been hopelessly crippled. The French lost only five in their defeat three days later. The subsequent court-martial, however, laid down the French doctrine thus: "The decision to persist in engaging with only a part of our fleet may be considered as an act of prudence on the part of the admiral, which might be dictated by the ulterior projects of the campaign." On this a French professional writer naturally remarks, that if an attack [484]were made at all, it would be more prudent to make it in force; less injury would fall on individual ships, while in the end the whole fleet would inevitably be drawn in to support any which, by losing spars, could not return to windward.
This action on April 9 was really just an artillery duel. One French ship, the "Caton," a sixty-four, got damaged and had to head to Guadeloupe; two English ships were disabled but managed to fix their issues without leaving the fleet. So, the material advantage went to the English. Opinions vary on the leadership of Comte de Grasse that day, but they split based on whether subsequent operations or the chances of defeating the enemy fleet should dictate an admiral's actions. Here are the facts: Sixteen of the English fleet, including all the rear ships and four from the center, never fired a shot. It seems every French ship could have been engaged. Initially, eight or nine English ships faced fifteen French ones. By the end, there were twenty English against thirty-three French, and this general ratio likely held throughout the four hours. Therefore, De Grasse was facing a fleet that, at least in numbers, was superior to his own. Fortunately, that fleet was divided, leaving nearly half of it unable to act. He had the wind and a strong group of captains; what stopped him from attacking Hood's nine ships with fifteen, placing one on each side of the six at the back? If those nine had been thoroughly defeated, Rodney's next moves would have been severely hampered. The French only lost five in their defeat three days later. However, the subsequent court-martial established the French principle as follows: "The decision to engage only part of our fleet may be seen as a prudent choice by the admiral, possibly influenced by the campaign's broader goals." In response to this, a French writer pointed out that if an attack was going to happen at all, it would be wiser to do it with full force; fewer individual ships would be harmed, and ultimately the entire fleet would need to support any ship that couldn’t return to the wind due to damaged spars.
Three times in one year had Fortune thrown before De Grasse the opportunity of attacking English fleets with decisive odds on his side.[204] Her favors were now exhausted. Three days more were to show how decidedly the ulterior projects of a campaign may be affected by a battle and the loss of a few ships. From the 9th to the morning of the 12th the French fleet continued beating to windward between Dominica and the Saints, in no regular order. On the night of the 9th the English hove-to to repair damages. The next day the chase to windward was resumed, but the French gained very decidedly upon their pursuers. On the night of the 10th two ships, the "Jason" and "Zélé," collided. The "Zélé" was the bane of the French fleet during these days. She was one of those that were nearly caught by the enemy on the 9th, and was also the cause of the final disaster. The injuries to the "Jason" forced her to put into Guadeloupe. On the 11th the main body was to windward of the Saints, but the "Zélé" and another had fallen so far to leeward that De Grasse bore down to cover them, thus losing much of the ground gained. On the night following, the "Zélé" was again in collision, this time with De Grasse's flag-ship; the latter lost some sails, but the other, which had not the right of way and was wholly at fault, carried away both foremast and bowsprit. The admiral sent word to the frigate "Astrée" to take the "Zélé" in tow; and here flits across the page of our story a celebrated and tragical figure, for the captain of the "Astrée" was the ill-fated explorer Lapeyrouse, the mystery of whose disappearance with two ships and their entire crews remained so long unsolved. Two hours were consumed in getting the ship under way in tow of the frigate,—not very smart work under the conditions of weather and urgency; but by five A.M. the [485]two were standing away for Basse Terre, where the "Caton" and "Jason," as well as the convoy, had already arrived. The French fleet had thus lost three from its line-of-battle since leaving Martinique.
Three times in one year, fortune had given De Grasse the chance to attack English fleets with a clear advantage on his side.[204] Her luck had run out. In just three days, it would be clear how a battle and the loss of a few ships could drastically change the plans for a campaign. From the 9th to the morning of the 12th, the French fleet was moving slowly against the wind between Dominica and the Saints, in no particular order. On the night of the 9th, the English paused to make repairs. The next day, the chase resumed, but the French pulled ahead of their pursuers. On the night of the 10th, two ships, the "Jason" and "Zélé," collided. The "Zélé" was a source of trouble for the French fleet during this time. She had nearly been caught by the enemy on the 9th and ended up being responsible for the final disaster. The damage to the "Jason" forced her to head to Guadeloupe. On the 11th, the main group was upwind of the Saints, but the "Zélé" and another ship had drifted too far downwind, prompting De Grasse to move down to cover them, which meant losing much of the ground they had gained. The following night, the "Zélé" collided again, this time with De Grasse's flagship; the latter lost some sails, but the "Zélé," at fault for the incident, lost both her foremast and bowsprit. The admiral ordered the frigate "Astrée" to take the "Zélé" in tow; and here enters a well-known and tragic figure, as the captain of the "Astrée" was the doomed explorer Lapeyrouse, whose mysterious disappearance with two ships and their entire crews remained unsolved for a long time. It took two hours to get the ship underway being towed by the frigate—not very efficient given the weather and urgency; but by five AM the [485]two were heading towards Basse Terre, where the "Caton" and "Jason," along with the convoy, had already arrived. The French fleet had thus lost three ships from its battle line since leaving Martinique.
The disabled ship had not long been headed for Basse Terre, when the faint streaks of dawn announced the approach of the 12th of April, a day doubly celebrated in naval annals. The sun had not quite set upon the exhausted squadrons of Suffren and Hughes, anchoring after their fiercest battle off Ceylon, when his early rays shone upon the opening strife between Rodney and De Grasse.[205] The latter was at the time the greatest naval battle in its results that had been fought in a century; its influence on the course of events was very great, though far from as decisive as it might have been; it was attended with circumstances of unusual though somewhat factitious brilliancy, and particularly was marked by a manœuvre that was then looked upon as exceptionally daring and decisive,—"breaking the line." It must be added that it has given rise to a storm of controversy; and the mass of details, as given by witnesses who should be reliable, are so confused and contradictory, owing mainly to the uncertainties of the wind, that it is impossible now to do more than attempt to reconcile them in a full account. Nevertheless, the leading features can be presented with sufficient accuracy, and this will first be done briefly and barely; the outline thus presented can afterward be clothed with the details which give color, life, and interest to the great scene.
The damaged ship had just started its journey to Basse Terre when the faint light of dawn marked the arrival of April 12th, a day celebrated in naval history. The sun had only just set on the weary fleets of Suffren and Hughes, who were anchoring after their fiercest battle off Ceylon, when its early rays illuminated the beginning of the conflict between Rodney and De Grasse. This was at the time the most significant naval battle in a century, having a major impact on the course of events, though not as decisive as it could have been. It was marked by unusually spectacular circumstances, though somewhat artificially so, and notably featured a maneuver that was seen as exceptionally bold and decisive—"breaking the line." It should also be noted that this maneuver sparked a heated debate; the many details given by witnesses who were supposed to be reliable are so confused and contradictory, largely due to the unpredictability of the wind, that it is now impossible to do more than try to piece them together in a comprehensive account. However, the main features can be accurately outlined first, which can then be filled in with the details that add color, vitality, and interest to this grand scene.
At daylight[206] (about half-past five) the English fleet, which had gone about at two A.M., was standing on the starboard [486]tack, with the wind at southeast,[207] an unusual amount of southing for that hour (Plate XXI., A). It was then about fifteen miles from the Saints, which bore north-northeast, and ten from the French fleet, which bore northeast. The latter, owing to the events of the night, was greatly scattered, as much as eight or ten miles separating the weather, or easternmost, ships from the lee,[208] the flag-ship "Ville de Paris" being among the latter. Anxiety for the "Zélé" kept the French admiral, with the ships in his company, under short canvas, standing to the southward on the port tack (A). The English on the starboard tack, with the wind as they had it,[3] headed east-northeast, and thus, as soon as there was light to see, found the French "broad on the lee bow, and one of M. de Grasse's ships (the "Zélé") towed by a frigate, square under our lee (a), with his bowsprit and foremast prostrate across his forecastle."[209] To draw the French farther to leeward, Rodney detached four ships (b) to chase the "Zélé." As soon as De Grasse saw this he signalled his fleet to keep away (c), as Rodney wished, and at the same time to form the line-of-battle, thus calling down to him the ships to windward. The English line was also formed rapidly, and the chasing ships recalled at seven A.M. De Grasse, seeing that if he stood on he would lose the weather-gage altogether, hauled up again on the port tack (c’); and the breeze changing to east-southeast and east in his favor and knocking the English off, the race of the two fleets on opposite tacks, for the advantage of the wind, became nearly equal. The French, however, won, thanks to a superiority in sailing which had enabled them to draw so far to windward of the English on the previous days, and, but for the awkwardness of the "Zélé," might have cleared them altogether (Plate XXI., B). Their leading ships first reached and passed the point where the rapidly converging tracks intersected, while the English leader, the "Marlborough," [487]struck the French line between the sixth and tenth ships (variously stated). The battle, of course, had by this time begun, the ninth ship in the French line, the "Brave," opening fire at twenty minutes before eight A.M. upon the "Marlborough." As there was no previous intention of breaking the line, the English leader kept away, in obedience to a signal from Rodney, and ran close along under the enemy's lee, followed in succession by all the ships as they reached her wake. The battle thus assumed the common and indecisive phase of two fleets passing on opposite tacks, the wind very light, however, and so allowing a more heavy engagement than common under these circumstances, the ships "sliding by" at the rate of three to four knots. Since the hostile lines diverged again south of their point of meeting, De Grasse made signal to keep away four points to south-southwest, thus bringing his van (B, a) to action with the English rear, and not permitting the latter to reach his rear unscathed. There were, however, two dangers threatening the French if they continued their course. Its direction, south or south-southwest, carried them into the calms that hung round the north end of Dominica; and the uncertainty of the wind made it possible that by its hauling to the southward the enemy could pass through their line and gain the wind, and with it the possibility of forcing the decisive battle which the French policy had shunned; and this was in fact what happened. De Grasse therefore made signal at half-past eight to wear together and take the same tack as the English. This, however, was impossible; the two fleets were too close together to admit the evolution. He then signalled to haul close to the wind and wear in succession, which also failed to be done, and at five minutes past nine the dreaded contingency arose; the wind hauled to the southward, knocking off all the French ships that had not yet kept away; that is, all who had English ships close under their lee (Plate XXI. C). Rodney, in the "Formidable," was at this time just drawing up with the fourth ship astern of De Grasse's flag. Luffing to the new wind, he passed through the French line, followed by [488]the five ships next astern of him (C, a), while nearly at the same moment, and from the same causes, his sixth astern (C, b) led through the interval abreast him, followed by the whole English rear. The French line-of-battle was thus broken in two places by columns of enemies' ships in such close order as to force its vessels aside, even if the wind had not conspired to embarrass their action. Every principle upon which a line-of-battle was constituted, for mutual support and for the clear field of fire of each ship, was thus overthrown for the French, and preserved for the English divisions which filed through; and the French were forced off to leeward by the interposition of the enemy's columns, besides being broken up. Compelled thus to forsake the line upon which they had been ranged, it was necessary to re-form upon another, and unite the three groups into which they were divided,—a difficult piece of tactics under any circumstances, but doubly so under the moral impression of disaster, and in presence of a superior enemy, who, though himself disordered, was in better shape, and already felt the glow of victory.
At dawn[206] (around 5:30 AM), the English fleet, which had turned back at 2 AM, was on a starboard tack, with the wind coming from the southeast,[207] quite a bit more south than usual for that time (Plate XXI., A). They were about fifteen miles from the Saints, which were to the north-northeast, and ten miles from the French fleet, positioned to the northeast. Due to the events of the night, the French fleet was widely dispersed, with the easternmost ships separated from the lee ships by as much as eight to ten miles, the flagship "Ville de Paris" being among the latter. Concern for the "Zélé" kept the French admiral and the ships accompanying him under restricted sail, heading south on a port tack (A). The English on the starboard tack, with the favorable wind,[3] were headed east-northeast, and as soon as there was enough light, they spotted the French "broad on the lee bow, and one of M. de Grasse's ships (the "Zélé") being towed by a frigate, directly under their lee (a), with its bowsprit and foremast lying flat across the deck."[209] To draw the French further downwind, Rodney sent four ships (b) to pursue the "Zélé." As soon as De Grasse noticed this, he signaled his fleet to steer away (c), as Rodney intended, and simultaneously to form a battle line, calling the windward ships to him. The English line also formed quickly, and the pursuing ships were called back at 7 AM. De Grasse realized that if he continued on, he would completely lose the wind advantage, so he changed course on the port tack (c’); with the wind shifting to east-southeast and east in his favor and pushing the English off, the race for wind advantage between the two fleets became nearly even. However, the French ultimately prevailed, thanks to their better sailing ability, which had allowed them to position themselves higher to windward than the English in the previous days, and but for the "Zélé's" unfortunate situation, they might have completely cleared the English (Plate XXI., B). The leading French ships reached and went past the point where their paths crossed, while the English leader, the "Marlborough," [487]hit the French line between the sixth and tenth ships (variously reported). By this time, the battle had begun, with the ninth ship in the French line, the "Brave," opening fire at 7:40 AM on the "Marlborough." Since there was no prior plan to break the line, the English leader complied with a signal from Rodney and maneuvered closely under the enemy’s lee, followed in order by all ships as they reached her wake. The battle thus seemed to enter the typical indecisive phase of two fleets passing on opposite tacks; the wind was very light, allowing for a more intense engagement than usual under these conditions, with the ships "sliding by" at speeds of three to four knots. As the hostile lines diverged again south of the meeting point, De Grasse signaled to steer away four points to south-southwest, thereby engaging his lead ships (B, a) with the English rear and preventing the latter from approaching his rear unscathed. However, two dangers threatened the French if they continued their course. The direction, south or south-southwest, led them into the calm waters around the north end of Dominica; and the shifting wind created a risk that by moving south, the enemy could slip through their line and gain the wind, potentially forcing the decisive battle that French strategy had avoided; and indeed, this is what occurred. De Grasse therefore signaled at 8:30 to tack together and adopt the same heading as the English. However, this was impossible; the two fleets were too close together to make the maneuver. He then signaled to take in the wind and tack in succession, which also failed, and at five minutes past nine, the dreaded situation occurred; the wind shifted southward, pushing away all French ships that hadn’t already turned, specifically those with English ships close on their lee (Plate XXI. C). At this time, Rodney, in the "Formidable," was just coming up behind the fourth ship of De Grasse's flag. Adjusting to the new wind, he passed through the French line, followed by [488]the five ships directly behind him (C, a), while nearly simultaneously, and for the same reasons, his sixth from behind (C, b) cut through the gap next to him, trailing the entire English rear. The French battle line was thus split in two places by columns of enemy ships in such close formation that it forced their vessels aside, even if the wind hadn’t been a factor complicating their maneuvers. Every principle upon which a line of battle is established—for mutual support and for maintaining a clear line of fire for each ship—was thus undermined for the French while preserved for the English divisions that passed through; and the French were forced downwind by the presence of enemy columns, further causing disarray. Forced to abandon the line they had formed, they needed to reorganize on another course and unite the three groups into which they had become divided—a challenging task in any situation, but even more so under the psychological weight of defeat and in the presence of a stronger enemy, who, although disordered, was in a better position and already experiencing a sense of victory.
It does not appear that any substantial attempt to re-form was made by the French. To reunite, yes; but only as a flying, disordered mass. The various shifts of wind and movements of the divisions left their fleet, at midday (Plate XXI. D), with the centre (c) two miles northwest of and to leeward of the van (v), the rear (r) yet farther from the centre and to leeward of it. Calms and short puffs of wind prevailed now through both fleets. At half-past one P.M. a light breeze from the east sprang up, and De Grasse made signal to form the line again on the port tack; between three and four, not having succeeded in this, he made signal to form on the starboard tack. The two signals and the general tenor of the accounts show that at no time were the French re-formed after their line was broken; and all the manœuvres tended toward, even if they did not necessitate, taking the whole fleet as far down as the most leewardly of its parts (D). In such a movement, it followed of course that the most crippled ships were left behind, and these were picked up, one by one, by the English, [489]who pursued without any regular order, for which there was no need, as mutual support was assured without it. Shortly after six P.M. De Grasse's flag-ship, the "Ville de Paris," struck her colors to the "Barfleur," carrying the flag of Sir Samuel Hood. The French accounts state that nine of the enemy's ships then surrounded her, and there is no doubt that she had been fought to the bitter end. Her name, commemorating the great city whose gift she had been to the king, her unusual size, and the fact that no French naval commander-in-chief had before been taken prisoner in battle, conspired to bestow a peculiar brilliancy upon Rodney's victory. Four other ships-of-the-line were taken,[210] and, singularly enough, upon these particular ships was found the whole train of artillery intended for the reduction of Jamaica.
It doesn’t seem like the French made any serious effort to reorganize. They aimed to come together, sure, but only as a chaotic and scattered group. The different shifts in wind and the movements of their divisions left their fleet at midday (Plate XXI. D), with the center (c) two miles northwest and downwind from the van (v), and the rear (r) even farther from the center and also downwind. There were calm conditions and brief gusts of wind affecting both fleets. At 1:30 PM, a light breeze came from the east, prompting De Grasse to signal the fleet to reform on the port tack; between three and four, after failing at this, he signaled to form on the starboard tack. The two signals and the overall nature of the reports indicate that the French never successfully re-formed after their line was broken; all the maneuvers seemed aimed at taking the entire fleet as far downwind as the farthest part of it (D). Naturally, this meant that the most damaged ships were left behind, and these were picked off one by one by the English, [489] who pursued without any specific order, which wasn’t necessary since they could support each other easily without it. Shortly after six P.M., De Grasse's flagship, the "Ville de Paris," surrendered to the "Barfleur," which was flying Sir Samuel Hood's flag. French accounts say that nine of the enemy's ships then surrounded her, and there’s no doubt that she fought until the very end. Her name, honoring the great city that had gifted her to the king, her exceptional size, and the fact that no French naval commander-in-chief had ever been captured in battle before, all contributed to making Rodney's victory particularly remarkable. Four other ships of the line were captured,[210] and, interestingly, on these specific ships was found the entire arsenal meant for the conquest of Jamaica.
Such were the leading features of the Battle of the Saints, or, as it is sometimes styled, of the 12th of April, known to the French as the Battle of Dominica. Certain points which have so far been omitted for the sake of clearness, but which affect the issue, must now be given. When the day opened, the French fleet was greatly scattered and without order.[211] De Grasse, under the influence of his fears for the "Zélé," so precipitated his movements that his line was not properly formed at the moment of engaging. The van ships had not yet come into position (B, a), and the remainder were so far from having reached their places that De Vaudreuil, commanding the rear division and last engaged, states that the line was formed under the fire of musketry. The English, on the contrary, were in good order, the only change made being to shorten the interval between ships from two to one cable's length (seven hundred feet). The celebrated stroke of breaking through the French line was due, not to previous intention, but to a shift of wind throwing their ships out of order and so [490]increasing the spaces between them; while the gap through which Rodney's group penetrated was widened by the "Diadème" on its north side being taken aback and paying round on the other tack (C, c.) Sir Charles Douglas says the immediate effect, where the flag-ship broke through, was "the bringing together, almost if not quite in contact with each other, the four ships of the enemy which were nearest," on the north, "to the point alluded to (c), and coming up in succession. This unfortunate group, composing now only one large single object at which to fire, was attacked by the "Duke," "Namur," and "Formidable" (ninety-gun ships) all at once, receiving several broadsides from each, not a single shot missing; and great must have been the slaughter." The "Duke" (C, d), being next ahead of the flag-ship, had followed her leader under the French lee; but as soon as her captain saw that the "Formidable" had traversed the enemy's order, he did the same, passing north of this confused group and so bringing it under a fire from both sides. The log of the "Magnanime," one of the group, mentions passing under the fire of two three-deckers, one on either side.
Such were the main features of the Battle of the Saints, or, as it’s sometimes called, the Battle of April 12th, known to the French as the Battle of Dominica. Certain points that have been left out for clarity, but which are important to the outcome, must now be addressed. When the day began, the French fleet was widely scattered and disorganized.[211] De Grasse, worried about the "Zélé," moved so quickly that his line wasn't properly formed when they engaged. The ships at the front hadn't yet taken their positions (B, a), and the rest were so far from their spots that De Vaudreuil, in command of the rear division and the last to engage, mentioned that the line formed under enemy fire. The English, on the other hand, were well organized, with only a change made to reduce the space between ships from two to one cable's length (seven hundred feet). The famous maneuver of breaking through the French line wasn't planned; rather, a change in the wind pushed their ships out of order, creating larger gaps between them; the gap that Rodney's group went through widened when the "Diadème" on its north side was caught off guard and tacked around (C, c). Sir Charles Douglas notes that the immediate result, where the flagship broke through, was "the bringing together, almost if not quite in contact with each other, the four enemy ships that were nearest," to the point mentioned (c), as they came up in succession. This unfortunate group, now forming one large target, was attacked all at once by the "Duke," "Namur," and "Formidable" (ninety-gun ships), receiving several broadside hits from each, with not a single shot missing; the casualties must have been enormous. The "Duke" (C, d), right ahead of the flagship, followed its leader under the French line; but as soon as her captain saw that the "Formidable" had crossed into the enemy's formation, he did the same, passing to the north of the confused group and bringing it under fire from both sides. The log of the "Magnanime," one of the ships in the group, notes coming under the fire of two three-deckers, one on each side.
As soon as the order was thus broken, Rodney hauled down the signal for the line, keeping flying that for close action, and at the same time ordered his van, which had now passed beyond and north of the enemy's rear, to go about and rejoin the English centre. This was greatly delayed through the injuries to spars and sails received in passing under the enemy's fire. His own flag-ship and the ships with her went about. The rear, under Hood, instead of keeping north again to join the centre, stood to windward for a time, and were then becalmed at a considerable distance from the rest of the fleet.
As soon as the order was broken, Rodney lowered the signal for the line while keeping the one for close action up. At the same time, he instructed his front ship, which had now moved past and north of the enemy's rear, to turn around and rejoin the English center. This was significantly delayed due to damage to the masts and sails sustained while passing under the enemy's fire. His flagship and the ships with her turned around. The rear, under Hood, instead of heading north again to join the center, sailed into the wind for a while and then became stranded at a considerable distance from the rest of the fleet.
Much discussion took place at a later day as to the wisdom of Rodney's action in breaking through his enemy's order, and to whom the credit, if any, should be ascribed. The latter point is of little concern; but it may be said that the son of Sir Charles Douglas, Rodney's chief-of-staff, brought forward an amount of positive evidence, the only kind that could [491]be accepted to diminish the credit of the person wholly responsible for the results, which proves that the suggestion came from Douglas, and Rodney's consent was with difficulty obtained. The value of the manœuvre itself is of more consequence than any question of personal reputation. It has been argued by some that, so far from being a meritorious act, it was unfortunate, and for Rodney's credit should rather be attributed to the force of circumstances than to choice. It had been better, these say, to have continued along under the lee of the French rear, thus inflicting upon it the fire of the whole English line, and that the latter should have tacked and doubled on the French rear. This argument conveniently forgets that tacking, or turning round in any way, after a brush of this kind, was possible to only a part of the ships engaged; and that these would have much difficulty in overtaking the enemies who had passed on, unless the latter were very seriously crippled. Therefore this suggested attack, the precise reproduction of the battle of Ushant, really reduces itself to the fleets passing on opposite tacks, each distributing its fire over the whole of the enemy's line without attempting any concentration on a part of it. It may, and must, be conceded at once, that Rodney's change of course permitted the eleven rear ships of the French (D, r) to run off to leeward, having received the fire of only part of their enemy, while the English van had undergone that of nearly the whole French fleet. These ships, however, were thus thrown entirely out of action for a measurable and important time by being driven to leeward, and would have been still more out of position to help any of their fleet, had not De Grasse himself been sent to leeward by Hood's division cutting the line three ships ahead of him. The thirteen leading French ships, obeying the last signal they had seen, were hugging the wind; the group of six with De Grasse (C, e) would have done the same had they not been headed off by Hood's division. The result of Rodney's own action alone, therefore, would have been to divide the French fleet into two parts, separated by a space of six miles, and one of them [492]hopelessly to leeward. The English, having gained the wind, would have been in position easily to "contain" the eleven lee ships, and to surround the nineteen weather ones in overwhelming force. The actual condition, owing to the two breaches in the line, was slightly different; the group of six with De Grasse being placed between his weather and lee divisions, two miles from the former, four from the latter (D). It seems scarcely necessary to insist upon the tactical advantages of such a situation for the English, even disregarding the moral effect of the confusion through which the French had passed. In addition to this, a very striking lesson is deducible from the immediate effects of the English guns in passing through. Of the five ships taken, three were those under whose sterns the English divisions pierced.[212] Instead of giving and taking, as the parallel lines ran by, on equal terms, each ship having the support of those ahead and astern, the French ships near which the penetrating columns passed received each the successive fire of all the enemy's division. Thus Hood's thirteen ships filed by the two rear ones of the French van, the "César" and "Hector," fairly crushing them under this concentration of fire; while in like manner, and with like results, Rodney's six passed by the "Glorieux." This "concentration by defiling" past the extremity of a column corresponds quite accurately to the concentration upon the flank of a line, and has a special interest, because if successfully carried out it would be as powerful an attack now as it ever has been. If quick to seize their advantage, the English might have fired upon the ships on both sides of the gaps through which they passed, as the "Formidable" actually did; but they were using the starboard broadsides, and many doubtless did not realize their [493]opportunity until too late. The natural results of Rodney's act, therefore, were: (1) The gain of the wind, with the power of offensive action; (2) Concentration of fire upon a part of the enemy's order; and (3) The introduction into the latter of confusion and division, which might, and did, become very great, offering the opportunity of further tactical advantage. It is not a valid reply to say that, had the French been more apt, they could have united sooner. A manœuvre that presents a good chance of advantage does not lose its merit because it can be met by a prompt movement of the enemy, any more than a particular lunge of the sword becomes worthless because it has its appropriate parry. The chances were that by heading off the rear ships, while the van stood on, the French fleet would be badly divided; and the move was none the less sagacious because the two fragments could have united sooner than they did, had they been well handled. With the alternative action suggested, of tacking after passing the enemy's rear, the pursuit became a stern chase, in which both parties having been equally engaged would presumably be equally crippled. Signals of disability, in fact, were numerous in both fleets.
Much discussion took place later about the wisdom of Rodney's decision to break through his enemy's order, and who should get the credit, if anyone. The latter point is not that important; however, it can be noted that the son of Sir Charles Douglas, Rodney's chief of staff, presented a significant amount of evidence—the only kind that could be used to reduce the credit of the person truly responsible for the results—that suggests the idea came from Douglas, and getting Rodney's approval was a challenge. The importance of the maneuver itself outweighs any debate about personal reputation. Some have argued that rather than being a commendable act, it was unfortunate, and that Rodney's credit should be attributed more to circumstances than to choice. They say it would have been better to continue along under the protection of the French rear, thus allowing fire from the entire English line, and that instead, the latter should have turned back to engage the French rear. This argument conveniently ignores the fact that tacking, or turning in any way, after such a skirmish, was possible only for part of the ships involved; and that those ships would have difficulty catching up with the enemies who had already passed, unless the latter were severely damaged. Therefore, this suggested attack, akin to the battle of Ushant, essentially results in the fleets passing on opposite courses, each spreading its fire across the entire enemy line without attempting to concentrate on a specific section. It must be acknowledged upfront that Rodney's change in course allowed the eleven trailing French ships (D, r) to escape to leeward, having only received fire from a portion of their enemy, while the English front endured fire from nearly the entire French fleet. However, those ships were completely taken out of action for a measureable and significant period by being forced downwind, and would have been even less able to assist their fleet had not De Grasse himself been sent downwind by Hood's division cutting the line three ships ahead of him. The thirteen leading French ships, following the last signal they had seen, were sailing close to the wind; the group of six with De Grasse (C, e) would have done the same had they not been intercepted by Hood's division. Consequently, Rodney's actions alone would have divided the French fleet into two parts, separated by six miles, one of which was hopelessly downwind. The English, having gained the wind, would have been positioned to easily “contain” the eleven downwind ships and surround the nineteen upwind ones with overwhelming force. The actual situation, due to the two breaches in the line, was slightly different; with the group of six under De Grasse positioned between his upwind and downwind divisions, two miles from the former, four from the latter (D). It seems almost unnecessary to emphasize the tactical advantages of such a situation for the English, even ignoring the moral impact of the chaos the French experienced. In addition to this, a clear lesson can be drawn from the immediate effects of the English guns during the engagement. Of the five ships captured, three were the ones under whose sterns the English divisions broke through. Instead of exchanging fire equally, as the lines passed by, with each ship supported by those in front and behind, the French ships near which the penetrating columns passed received successive fire from all of the enemy's divisions. Thus, Hood's thirteen ships passed by the two rear vessels of the French van, the "César" and "Hector," effectively crushing them under this concentrated fire; similarly, Rodney's six passed by the "Glorieux." This "concentration by defiling" past the end of a line corresponds closely to the concentration upon the flank of a line, and is particularly interesting because if carried out successfully, it would be just as powerful an attack now as it ever was. If the English had been quick to take advantage, they might have fired upon the ships on both sides of the gaps they passed through, as the "Formidable" actually did; but they were using their starboard broadsides, and many probably didn’t realize their opportunity until it was too late. The natural outcomes of Rodney's actions were: (1) The gain of the wind, giving the power of offensive action; (2) Concentrated fire on a portion of the enemy's order; and (3) The introduction of confusion and division into the latter, which could, and did, become very significant, providing opportunities for further tactical advantage. It is not a valid argument to say that, had the French been more capable, they could have united sooner. A maneuver that provides a good chance for advantage does not lose its worth simply because it can be countered by a quick reaction from the enemy, just as a particular sword thrust does not become worthless because it has a suitable parry. The chances were that by intercepting the trailing ships while the front continued on, the French fleet would become severely divided; and the strategy was still wise even though the two sections could have come together sooner than they did, had they been handled well. With the alternative action suggested, of tacking after passing the enemy's rear, the pursuit would have turned into a chase where both sides, having been equally engaged, would presumably be equally damaged. In fact, there were numerous signals of damage on both fleets.
Independently of the tactical handling of the two fleets, there were certain differences of equipment which conferred tactical advantage, and are therefore worth noting. The French appear to have had finer ships, and, class for class, heavier armaments. Sir Charles Douglas, an eminent officer of active and ingenious turn of mind, who paid particular attention to gunnery details, estimated that in weight of battery the thirty-three French were superior to the thirty-six English by the force of four 84-gun ships; and that after the loss of the "Zélé," "Jason," and "Caton" there still remained an advantage equal to two seventy-fours. The French admiral La Gravière admits the generally heavier calibre of French cannon at this era. The better construction of the French ships and their greater draught caused them to sail and beat better, and accounts in part for the success of De Grasse in gaining to windward; for in the [494]afternoon of the 11th only three or four of the body of his fleet were visible from the mast-head of the English flag-ship, which had been within gunshot of them on the 9th. It was the awkwardness of the unlucky "Zélé" and of the "Magnanime," which drew down De Grasse from his position of vantage, and justified Rodney's perseverance in relying upon the chapter of accidents to effect his purpose. The greater speed of the French as a body is somewhat hard to account for, because, though undoubtedly with far better lines, the practice of coppering the bottom had not become so general in France as in England, and among the French there were several uncoppered and worm-eaten ships.[213] The better sailing of the French was, however, remarked by the English officers, though the great gain mentioned must have been in part owing to Rodney's lying-by, after the action of the 9th, to refit, due probably to the greater injury received by the small body of his vessels, which had been warmly engaged, with greatly superior numbers. It was stated, in narrating that action, that the French kept at half cannon-range; this was to neutralize a tactical advantage the English had in the large number of carronades and other guns of light weight but large calibre, which in close action told heavily, but were useless at greater distances. The second in command, De Vaudreuil, to whom was intrusted the conduct of that attack, expressly states that if he had come within reach of the carronades his ships would have been quickly unrigged. Whatever judgment is passed upon the military policy of refusing to crush an enemy situated as the English division was, there can be no question that, if the object was to prevent pursuit, the tactics of De Vaudreuil on the 9th was in all respects excellent. He inflicted the utmost injury with the least exposure of his own force. On the 12th, De Grasse, by allowing himself to be lured within reach of carronades, yielded this advantage, besides sacrificing to an impulse his whole previous strategic policy. Rapidly handled from their lightness, firing [495]grape and shot of large diameter, these guns were peculiarly harmful in close action and useless at long range. In a later despatch De Vaudreuil says: "The effect of these new arms is most deadly within musket range; it is they which so badly crippled us on the 12th of April." There were other gunnery innovations, in some at least of the English ships, which by increasing the accuracy, the rapidity, and the field of fire, greatly augmented the power of their batteries. These were the introduction of locks, by which the man who aimed also fired; and the fitting to the gun-carriages of breast-pieces and sweeps, so that the guns could be pointed farther ahead or astern,—that is, over a larger field than had been usual. In fights between single ships, not controlled in their movements by their relations to a fleet, this improvement would at times allow the possessor to take a position whence he could train upon his enemy without the latter being able to reply, and some striking instances of such tactical advantage are given. In a fleet fight, such as is now being considered, the gain was that the guns could be brought to bear farther forward, and could follow the opponent longer as he passed astern, thus doubling, or more, the number of shots he might receive, and lessening for him the interval of immunity enjoyed between two successive antagonists.[214] These matters of antiquated and now obsolete detail carry with them lessons that are never obsolete; they differ in no respect from the more modern experiences with the needle-gun and the torpedo.
Independently of how the two fleets were tactically managed, there were some key differences in equipment that provided a tactical advantage and are worth noting. The French seemed to have better ships, and, class for class, heavier armaments. Sir Charles Douglas, a notable officer known for his resourcefulness, who focused on gunnery details, estimated that in terms of battery weight, the thirty-three French ships were superior to the thirty-six English ships by the force of four 84-gun ships; and that even after losing the "Zélé," "Jason," and "Caton," they still had an advantage equivalent to two seventy-fours. The French admiral La Gravière acknowledged that French cannons typically had a heavier caliber during this period. The superior construction of French ships and their deeper draft allowed them to sail and maneuver better, partly explaining De Grasse’s success in sailing against the wind; because on the afternoon of the 11th, only three or four of his fleet were visible from the masthead of the English flagship, which had been within gunshot of them on the 9th. It was the awkwardness of the unfortunate "Zélé" and "Magnanime" that drew De Grasse away from his advantageous position, justifying Rodney's determination to rely on chance to achieve his goal. The overall greater speed of the French fleet is somewhat puzzling because, while they had better hull designs, the practice of applying copper to ship bottoms wasn't as widespread in France as in England, and some of the French ships were uncoppered and damaged. The English officers noted the French ships sailed better, although the significant advantage mentioned must have partly been due to Rodney's decision to pause after the action on the 9th for repairs, likely because his smaller fleet had sustained more damage in the intense engagement against superior numbers. It was reported, when recounting that action, that the French maintained half cannon-range; this was intended to mitigate the tactical advantage the English had with their large number of carronades and other lightweight but large-caliber guns that were effective in close quarters but useless at longer distances. The second-in-command, De Vaudreuil, who led that attack, specifically stated that if he had come within reach of the carronades, his ships would have been quickly disabled. Regardless of the judgment on the military strategy of not decisively defeating an enemy like the English division, there’s no doubt that De Vaudreuil’s tactics on the 9th were excellent if the goal was to prevent pursuit. He inflicted maximum damage while exposing his own forces minimally. On the 12th, De Grasse, by allowing himself to be drawn within range of the carronades, lost this advantage, sacrificing his overall strategic plan to a momentary impulse. Rapidly fired from their lightness, these guns, which shot grape and large-caliber rounds, were particularly destructive in close range but ineffective at long distances. In a later report, De Vaudreuil stated: "The impact of these new weapons is deadly within musket range; they were responsible for significantly damaging us on the 12th of April." There were other gunnery innovations in some English ships that increased the accuracy, speed, and firing range, greatly enhancing their batteries' power. These included the introduction of locks, allowing the person aiming to also fire, and attaching breast-pieces and sweeps to the gun carriages, enabling the guns to be aimed further ahead or behind—that is, over a broader range than was typical. In duels between individual ships, not constrained by fleet movements, this improvement sometimes allowed the owner to position themselves to fire at their enemy without being able to return fire, with several striking examples of such tactical advantages provided. In a fleet battle, like the one being discussed, the benefit was that the guns could be aimed more forward and could follow the opponent longer as they passed behind, effectively doubling or more the number of shots the opponent might take and reducing the safe intervals between consecutive enemies. These outdated and now obsolete details bear lessons that are never out of date; they are not different from more modern experiences with the needle-gun and the torpedo.
And indeed this whole action of April 12, 1782, is fraught with sound military teaching. Perseverance in pursuit, gaining advantage of position, concentration of one's own effort, dispersal of the enemy's force, the efficient tactical bearing of small but important improvements in the material of war, have been dwelt on. To insist further upon the necessity of not letting slip a chance to beat the enemy in detail, would be thrown away on any one not already convinced by the bearing of April 9 on April 12. The abandonment of the attack upon Jamaica, after the defeat of the French fleet, [496]shows conclusively that the true way to secure ulterior objects is to defeat the force which threatens them. There remains at least one criticism, delicate in its character, but essential to draw out the full teachings of these events; that is, upon the manner in which the victory was followed up, and the consequent effects upon the war in general.
And indeed, the entire event of April 12, 1782, is packed with valuable military lessons. Sticking to a pursuit, gaining a favorable position, focusing your own efforts, spreading out the enemy's forces, and making effective tactical improvements in military resources have all been highlighted. To emphasize the importance of not missing an opportunity to defeat the enemy in detail would be pointless for anyone who isn't already convinced by the events of April 9 in relation to April 12. The decision to abandon the attack on Jamaica after the defeat of the French fleet, [496]clearly shows that the best way to achieve future objectives is to defeat the forces that threaten them. There is at least one sensitive criticism that needs to be made to fully appreciate the lessons from these events; that is regarding how the victory was followed through and its overall impact on the war.
The liability of sailing-ships to injury in spars and sails, in other words, in that mobility which is the prime characteristic of naval strength, makes it difficult to say, after a lapse of time, what might or might not have been done. It is not only a question of actual damage received, which log-books may record, but also of the means for repair, the energy and aptitude of the officers and seamen, which differ from ship to ship. As to the ability of the English fleet, however, to follow up its advantages by a more vigorous pursuit on the 12th of April, we have the authority of two most distinguished officers,—Sir Samuel Hood, the second in command, and Sir Charles Douglas, the captain of the fleet, or chief-of-staff to the admiral. The former expressed the opinion that twenty ships might have been taken, and said so to Rodney the next day; while the chief-of-staff was so much mortified by the failure, and by the manner in which the admiral received his suggestions, as seriously to contemplate resigning his position.[215]
The risk of sailing ships getting damaged in their masts and sails, which is essentially the key feature of naval power, makes it hard to determine, after some time has passed, what actions could or couldn’t have been taken. It’s not just about the actual damage recorded in log-books, but also about the repair options available and the skills and dedication of the officers and crew, which can vary from ship to ship. Regarding the English fleet's capacity to capitalize on its advantages for a more vigorous pursuit on April 12th, we have the insights of two highly regarded officers—Sir Samuel Hood, the second in command, and Sir Charles Douglas, the fleet captain or chief of staff to the admiral. Sir Samuel Hood believed that twenty ships could have been captured and communicated this to Rodney the following day. Meanwhile, the chief of staff was so disappointed by the missed opportunity and the way the admiral reacted to his suggestions that he seriously considered resigning from his position.[215]
Advice and criticism are easy, nor can the full weight of a responsibility be felt, except by the man on whom it is laid; but great results cannot often be reached in war without risk and effort. The accuracy of the judgment of these two officers, however, is confirmed by inference from the French reports. Rodney justifies his failure to pursue by alleging the crippled condition of many ships, and other matters incident to the conclusion of a hard-fought battle, and then goes on to suggest what might have been done that night, had he pursued, by the French fleet, which "went off in a [497]body of twenty-six ships-of-the-line."[216] These possibilities are rather creditable to his imagination, considering what the French fleet had done by day; but as regards the body of twenty-six[217] ships, De Vaudreuil, who, after De Grasse's surrender, made the signal for the ships to rally round his flag, found only ten with him next morning, and was not joined by any more before the 14th. During the following days five more joined him at intervals.[218] With these he went to the rendezvous at Cap Français, where he found others, bringing the whole number who repaired thither to twenty. The five remaining, of those that had been in the action, fled to Curaçoa, six hundred miles distant, and did not rejoin until May. The "body of twenty-six ships," therefore, had no existence in fact; on the contrary, the French fleet was very badly broken up, and several of its ships isolated. As regards the crippled condition, there seems no reason to think the English had suffered more, but rather less, than their enemy; and a curious statement, bearing upon this, appears in a letter from Sir Gilbert Blane:—
Advice and criticism are easy, and only the person who carries the responsibility can truly feel its weight; however, significant achievements in war rarely come without risk and effort. The judgment of these two officers, though, is supported by inferences drawn from the French reports. Rodney defends his decision not to pursue by claiming that many of his ships were in poor condition, along with other issues that arise after a hard-fought battle. He then suggests what might have happened that night if he had chased the French fleet, which "left with a [497]group of twenty-six ships-of-the-line."[216] These scenarios are quite imaginative, given what the French fleet had done during the day; however, regarding the group of twenty-six ships, De Vaudreuil, who signaled for the ships to gather around his flag after De Grasse's surrender, found only ten with him the next morning and did not bring in any more before the 14th. Over the next few days, five more joined him at different times.[218] With these ships, he headed to the meeting point at Cap Français, where he found others, bringing the total number who arrived there to twenty. The remaining five ships that had been part of the battle fled to Curaçoa, six hundred miles away, and did not rejoin until May. Therefore, the "group of twenty-six ships" did not actually exist; on the contrary, the French fleet was significantly disrupted, and several of its ships were isolated. As for the damaged condition, there seems to be no reason to believe that the English suffered more than their enemies, and it appears they may have actually fared better. A curious statement about this issue can be found in a letter from Sir Gilbert Blane:—
"It was with difficulty we could make the French officers believe that the returns of killed and wounded, made by our ships to the admiral, were true; and one of them flatly contradicted me, saying we always gave the world a false account of our loss. I then walked with him over the decks of the 'Formidable,' and bid him remark what number of shot-holes there were, and also how little her rigging had suffered, and asked if that degree of damage was likely to be connected with the loss of more than fourteen men, which was our number killed, and the greatest of any in the fleet, except the 'Royal Oak' and 'Monarch.' He ... owned our fire must have been much better kept up and directed than theirs."[219]
"It was difficult to convince the French officers that the reports of killed and wounded sent by our ships to the admiral were accurate. One of them outright contradicted me, claiming that we always presented a false account of our losses. I then walked with him around the decks of the 'Formidable,' pointing out the number of shot-holes and how little her rigging had been damaged. I asked him if that level of damage could possibly relate to the loss of more than fourteen men, which was our number killed, and the highest in the fleet, except for the 'Royal Oak' and 'Monarch.' He ... admitted that our fire must have been much better maintained and aimed than theirs."[219]
There can remain little doubt, therefore, that the advantage was not followed up with all possible vigor. Not till five days after the battle was Hood's division sent toward San [498]Domingo, where they picked up in the Mona Passage the "Jason" and the "Caton," which had separated before the battle and were on their way to Cap Français. These, and two small vessels with them, were the sole after-fruits of the victory. Under the conditions of England's war this cautious failure is a serious blot on Rodney's military reputation, and goes far to fix his place among successful admirals. He had saved Jamaica for the time; but he had not, having the opportunity, crushed the French fleet. He too, like De Grasse, had allowed the immediate objective to blind him to the general military situation, and to the factor which controlled it.
There’s little doubt that the advantage wasn’t taken fully. It wasn’t until five days after the battle that Hood's division was sent toward San [498]Domingo, where they encountered the "Jason" and the "Caton," which had separated before the battle and were heading to Cap Français. These, along with two small vessels, were the only results of the victory. Given the circumstances of England's war, this cautious failure is a significant mark against Rodney's military reputation, and it impacts how he’s viewed among successful admirals. He managed to save Jamaica for the time being; however, he missed the chance to defeat the French fleet. Like De Grasse, he let the immediate goal distract him from the broader military situation and the factors that influenced it.
To appreciate the consequences of this neglect, and the real indecisiveness of this celebrated battle, we must go forward a year and listen to the debates in Parliament on the conditions of peace, in February, 1783. The approval or censure of the terms negotiated by the existing ministry involved the discussion of many considerations; but the gist of the dispute was, whether the conditions were such as the comparative financial and military situations of the belligerents justified, or whether it would have been better for England to continue the war rather than submit to the sacrifices she had made. As regards the financial condition, despite the gloomy picture drawn by the advocates of the peace, there was probably no more doubt then than there is now about the comparative resources of the different countries. The question of military strength was really that of naval power. The ministry argued that the whole British force hardly numbered one hundred sail-of-the-line, while the navies of France and Spain amounted to one hundred and forty, not to speak of that of Holland.
To understand the impact of this neglect and the real uncertainty of this famous battle, we need to look ahead a year and hear the discussions in Parliament about the peace conditions in February 1783. Whether to approve or criticize the terms negotiated by the current government involved considering many factors, but the core of the argument was whether the conditions were justified given the financial and military situations of the warring sides or if it would have been better for England to keep fighting instead of accepting the sacrifices it had made. Regarding finances, despite the bleak picture painted by the peace advocates, there was likely no more uncertainty then than there is today about the resource levels of the different countries. The military strength issue came down to naval power. The government argued that the entire British fleet barely counted one hundred ships of the line, while the navies of France and Spain totaled one hundred and forty, not to mention that of Holland.
"With so glaring an inferiority, what hopes of success could we derive, either from the experience of the last campaign, or from any new distribution of our force in that which would have followed? In the West Indies we could not have had more than forty-six sail to oppose to forty, which on the day that peace was signed lay in Cadiz Bay, with sixteen thousand troops on board, ready to sail for that quarter of the world, where they would have been joined by twelve [499]of the line from Havana and ten from San Domingo.... Might we not too reasonably apprehend that the campaign in the West Indies would have closed with the loss of Jamaica itself, the avowed object of this immense armament?"[220]
"Given such a clear disadvantage, what chances of success could we expect from either the experience of the last campaign or from any new arrangement of our forces in the next one? In the West Indies, we could have had at most forty-six ships to face forty, which, on the day peace was signed, were in Cadiz Bay, with sixteen thousand troops on board, ready to head to that part of the world, where they would be joined by twelve [499]ships from Havana and ten from San Domingo.... Shouldn’t we reasonably fear that the campaign in the West Indies would have ended with the loss of Jamaica itself, which was the stated objective of this massive armada?"[220]
These are certainly the reasonings of an avowed partisan, for which large allowances must be made. The accuracy of the statement of comparative numbers was denied by Lord Keppel, a member of the same party, and but lately at the head of the admiralty, a post which he had resigned because he disapproved the treaty.[221] English statesmen, too, as well as English seamen, must by this time have learned to discount largely the apparent, when estimating the real, power of the other navies. Nevertheless, how different would have been the appreciation of the situation, both moral and material, had Rodney reaped the full fruits of the victory which he owed rather to chance than to his own merit, great as that undeniably was.
These are definitely the thoughts of a committed supporter, for which a lot of leeway should be given. Lord Keppel, who was a member of the same party and recently headed the admiralty, denied the accuracy of the claims about the relative numbers. He resigned from his position because he disagreed with the treaty.[221] By now, English politicians and sailors should have learned to take the apparent into serious consideration when judging the actual strength of other navies. Still, the way the situation was understood, both morally and materially, would have been much different if Rodney had fully enjoyed the benefits of the victory that he largely owed to luck rather than his own undeniable greatness.
A letter published in 1809, anonymous, but bearing strong internal evidence of being written by Sir Gilbert Blane, the physician of the fleet and long on intimate terms with Rodney, who was a constant sufferer during his last cruise, states that the admiral "thought little of his victory on the 12th of April, 1782." He would have preferred to rest his reputation upon his combinations against De Guichen, April 17, 1780, and "looked upon that opportunity of beating, with an inferior fleet, such an officer, whom he considered the best in the French service, as one by which, but for the disobedience of his captains, he might have gained immortal renown."[222] Few students will be inclined to question this estimate of Rodney's merit on the two occasions. Fortune, however, decreed that his glory should depend upon a battle, brilliant in itself, to which his own qualities least contributed, and denied him success when he most deserved it. The chief action of his life in which merit and success met, the destruction of [500]Langara's fleet off Cape St. Vincent, has almost passed into oblivion; yet it called for the highest qualities of a seaman, and is not unworthy of comparison with Hawke's pursuit of Conflans.[223]
A letter published in 1809, anonymous but clearly written by Sir Gilbert Blane, the fleet's physician who was closely acquainted with Rodney, who frequently suffered during his last voyage, mentions that the admiral "thought little of his victory on April 12, 1782." He would have preferred to build his reputation on his strategies against De Guichen on April 17, 1780, and "viewed that chance to defeat, with a weaker fleet, such an officer whom he considered the best in the French navy, as one by which, if not for the disobedience of his captains, he might have achieved everlasting fame." Few students will be inclined to dispute this assessment of Rodney's merit on both occasions. However, fate determined that his glory would rely on a battle, impressive in itself, to which his own contributions were the least significant, and denied him success when he deserved it the most. The main event of his life where merit and success coincided, the destruction of Langara's fleet off Cape St. Vincent, has nearly been forgotten; yet it required the highest skills of a sailor and is not unworthy of comparison with Hawke's pursuit of Conflans.
Within the two years and a half which had elapsed since Rodney was appointed to his command he had gained several important successes, and, as was remarked, had taken a French, a Spanish, and a Dutch admiral. "In that time he had added twelve line-of-battle ships, all taken from the enemy, to the British navy, and destroyed five more; and to render the whole still more singularly remarkable, the 'Ville de Paris' was said to be the only first-rate man-of-war that ever was taken and carried into port by any commander of any nation." Notwithstanding his services, the party spirit that was then so strong in England, penetrating even the army and navy, obtained his recall[224] upon the fall of Lord North's ministry, and his successor, a man unknown to fame, had already sailed when news arrived of the victory. In the fallen and discouraging state of English affairs at the time, it excited the utmost exultation, and silenced the strictures which certain parts of the admiral's previous conduct had drawn forth. The people were not in a humor to be critical, and amid the exaggerated notions that prevailed of the results achieved, no one thought of the failure to obtain greater. This impression long prevailed. As late as 1830, when Rodney's Life was first published, it was asserted "that the French navy had been so effectually crippled and reduced by the decisive victory of the 12th of April, as to be [501]no longer in a condition to contest with Great Britain the empire of the seas." This is nonsense, excusable in 1782, but not to the calm thought of after days. The favorable terms obtained were due to the financial embarrassment of France, not to her naval humiliation; and if there was exaggeration in the contention of the advocates of peace that England could not save Jamaica, it is probable that she could not have recovered by arms the other islands restored to her by the treaty.
In the two and a half years since Rodney was appointed to his command, he achieved several significant victories and, as noted, captured a French, a Spanish, and a Dutch admiral. "During that time, he added twelve line-of-battle ships, all taken from the enemy, to the British navy and destroyed five more. Plus, it's particularly notable that the 'Ville de Paris' was considered the only first-rate warship ever captured and brought into port by any commander from any nation." Despite his achievements, the strong party divisions in England, which extended even to the army and navy, resulted in his recall[224] after Lord North's ministry fell, and his unknown successor had already sailed by the time news of the victory arrived. Given the fallen and discouraging state of English affairs then, the victory generated great excitement and silenced criticisms that had arisen regarding certain aspects of the admiral's earlier conduct. The public was not in a critical mood, and amidst the inflated views regarding the results achieved, no one considered what might have been done better. This sentiment persisted for a long time. Even as late as 1830, when Rodney's Life was first published, it was claimed "that the French navy had been so effectively crippled and diminished by the decisive victory on April 12th that it was [501]no longer able to compete with Great Britain for control of the seas." This is absurd, justifiable in 1782, but not in the clear light of later reflection. The favorable terms achieved were due to France's financial struggles, not her naval defeat; and while there may have been exaggeration in the claims of peace advocates that England couldn’t save Jamaica, it’s likely she wouldn’t have been able to reclaim the other islands returned to her by the treaty through military means.
The memory of De Grasse will always be associated with great services done to America. His name, rather than that of Rochambeau, represents the material succor which France gave to the struggling life of the young Republic, as Lafayette's recalls the moral sympathy so opportunely extended. The incidents of his life, subsequent to the great disaster which closed his active career, cannot be without interest to American readers.
The memory of De Grasse will always be linked to the significant contributions he made to America. His name, more so than Rochambeau's, symbolizes the tangible support that France provided to the young Republic in its difficult times, just as Lafayette's name evokes the moral support that was so timely. The details of his life after the major setback that ended his active career will surely interest American readers.
After the surrender of the "Ville de Paris," De Grasse accompanied the English fleet and its prizes to Jamaica, whither Rodney repaired to refit his ships, thus appearing as a captive upon the scene of his intended conquest. On the 19th of May he left the island, still a prisoner, for England. Both by naval officers and by the English people he was treated with that flattering and benevolent attention which comes easily from the victor to the vanquished, and of which his personal valor at least was not unworthy. It is said that he did not refuse to show himself on several occasions upon the balcony of his rooms in London, to the populace shouting for the valiant Frenchman. This undignified failure to appreciate his true position naturally excited the indignation of his countrymen; the more so as he had been unsparing and excessive in denouncing the conduct of his subordinates on the unlucky 12th of April.
After the surrender of the "Ville de Paris," De Grasse traveled with the English fleet and its captured ships to Jamaica, where Rodney went to repair his ships, appearing as a captive in the middle of his intended conquest. On May 19, he left the island, still a prisoner, bound for England. Both naval officers and the English public treated him with the flattering and generous attention that often comes from victors to the defeated, which his personal bravery certainly deserved. It is said that he didn’t hesitate to appear on several occasions on the balcony of his rooms in London, facing the crowd cheering for the brave Frenchman. This undignified failure to recognize his true position understandably angered his countrymen, especially since he had been harsh and excessive in criticizing the actions of his subordinates on the unfortunate April 12.
"He bears his misfortune," wrote Sir Gilbert Blane, "with equanimity; conscious, as he says, that he has done his duty.... He attributes his misfortune, not to the inferiority of his force, but to the [502]base desertion of his officers in the other ships, to whom he made the signal to rally, and even hailed them to abide by him, but was abandoned."[225]
"He deals with his misfortune," wrote Sir Gilbert Blane, "with calmness; aware, as he says, that he has fulfilled his duty.... He blames his misfortune, not on the weakness of his forces, but on the [502]treacherous desertion of his officers in the other ships, to whom he signaled to regroup and even called out to stay with him, but was left behind."[225]
This was the key-note to all his utterances. Writing from the English flag-ship, the day after the battle, he "threw upon the greater part of his captains the misfortunes of the day. Some had disobeyed his signals; others, and notably the captains of the 'Languedoc' and 'Couronne,' that is to say his next ahead and astern, had abandoned him."[226] He did not, however, confine himself to official reports, but while a prisoner in London published several pamphlets to the same effect, which he sent broadcast over Europe. The government, naturally thinking that an officer could not thus sully the honor of his corps without good reason, resolved to search out and relentlessly punish all the guilty. The captains of the "Languedoc" and "Couronne" were imprisoned as soon as they reached France, and all papers, logs, etc., bearing upon the case were gathered together. Under all the circumstances it is not to be wondered at that on his return to France, De Grasse, to use his own words, "found no one to hold out a hand to him."[227] It was not till the beginning of 1784 that all the accused and witnesses were ready to appear before the court-martial; but the result of the trial was to clear entirely and in the most ample manner almost every one whom he had attacked, while the faults found were considered of a character entitled to indulgence, and were awarded but slight punishment. "Nevertheless," cautiously observes a French writer, "one cannot but say, with the Court, that the capture of an admiral commanding thirty ships-of-the-line is an historical incident which causes the regret of the whole nation."[228] As [503]to the conduct of the battle by the admiral, the Court found that the danger of the "Zélé" on the morning of the 12th was not such as to justify bearing down for so long a time as was done; that the crippled ship had a breeze which was not then shared by the English, five miles away to the southward, and which carried her into Basse Terre at ten A.M.; that the engagement should not have been begun before all the ships had come into line; and finally, that the fleet should have been formed on the same tack as the English, because, by continuing to stand south, it entered the zone of calms and light airs at the north end of Dominica.[229]
This was the main point behind all his statements. Writing from the English flagship the day after the battle, he "blamed most of his captains for the day's misfortunes. Some had ignored his signals; others, specifically the captains of the 'Languedoc' and 'Couronne,' which were closest ahead and behind him, had deserted him."[226] He didn’t limit himself to official reports; while a prisoner in London, he published several pamphlets reiterating this, sending them all over Europe. The government, naturally thinking that an officer wouldn’t tarnish his corps' honor without a valid reason, decided to identify and harshly punish all those at fault. The captains of the "Languedoc" and "Couronne" were imprisoned as soon as they returned to France, and all documents, logs, etc., related to the case were collected. Given all the circumstances, it’s not surprising that upon his return to France, De Grasse, in his own words, "found no one willing to help him."[227] It wasn't until early 1784 that all the accused and witnesses were prepared to testify before the court-martial; however, the trial’s outcome was to completely clear nearly everyone he had denounced, while any faults identified were deemed minor and received only light punishments. "Nevertheless," a French writer notes cautiously, "one must agree with the Court that the capture of an admiral commanding thirty ships-of-the-line is a historical event that is regretted by the entire nation."[228] Regarding the admiral's conduct of the battle, the Court determined that the danger of the "Zélé" on the morning of the 12th was not significant enough to warrant the prolonged engagement; that the damaged ship had a breeze that the English, five miles away to the south, did not have, which allowed her to reach Basse Terre by ten A.M.; that the battle should not have started until all the ships were in position; and finally, that the fleet should have sailed on the same tack as the English because, by continuing south, it entered the calm and light air zone at the northern end of Dominica.[229]
De Grasse was much dissatisfied with the finding of the Court, and was indiscreet enough to write to the minister of marine, protesting against it and demanding a new trial. The minister, acknowledging his protest, replied in the name of the king. After commenting upon the pamphlets that had been so widely issued, and the entire contradiction of their statements by the testimony before the Court, he concluded with these weighty words:—
De Grasse was very unhappy with the Court's decision and was bold enough to write to the minister of marine, protesting against it and asking for a new trial. The minister, recognizing his protest, responded on behalf of the king. After discussing the pamphlets that had been widely circulated and the complete contradiction of their claims by the testimony presented to the Court, he ended with these important words:—
"The loss of the battle cannot be attributed to the fault of private officers.[230] It results, from the findings, that you have allowed yourself to injure, by ill-founded accusations, the reputation of several officers, in order to clear yourself in public opinion of an unhappy result, the excuse for which you might perhaps have found in the inferiority of your force, in the uncertain fortune of war, and in circumstances over which you had no control. His Majesty is willing to believe that you did what you could to prevent the misfortunes of the day; but he cannot be equally indulgent to your unjust imputations upon those officers of his navy who have been cleared of the charges against them. His Majesty, dissatisfied with your conduct in this respect, forbids you to present yourself before him. I transmit his orders with regret, and add my own advice to retire, under the circumstances, to your province."
"The defeat in the battle can't be blamed on the individual officers.[230] It seems that you've let your unfounded accusations damage the reputations of several officers just to protect your own public image after an unfortunate outcome. You could have perhaps explained this by pointing to the smaller size of your forces, the unpredictable nature of war, and circumstances beyond your control. His Majesty is willing to believe that you did your best to prevent the day's misfortunes; however, he can't overlook your unfair accusations against those officers in his navy who have been cleared of any wrongdoing. His Majesty, unhappy with your behavior in this matter, prohibits you from appearing before him. I pass on his orders with regret and advise you to return to your province under the circumstances."
De Grasse died in January, 1788. His fortunate opponent, rewarded with peerage and pension, lived until 1792. Hood [504]was also created a peer, and commanded with distinction in the early part of the wars of the French Revolution, winning the enthusiastic admiration of Nelson, who served under him; but a sharp difference with the admiralty caused him to be retired before achieving any brilliant addition to his reputation. He died in 1816, at the great age of ninety-two.
De Grasse passed away in January 1788. His lucky opponent, who received a title and a pension, lived until 1792. Hood [504] was also made a peer and distinguished himself in the early stages of the wars of the French Revolution, earning the enthusiastic admiration of Nelson, who served under him. However, a major disagreement with the admiralty led to his retirement before he could make any notable contributions to his reputation. He died in 1816 at the impressive age of ninety-two.
FOOTNOTES:
[194] The curve, a, a’, a’’, represents the line which Hood proposed to follow with his fleet, the wind being supposed east-southeast. The positions B, B, B, refer to the proceedings of a subsequent day and have nothing to do with the diagram at A.
[194] The curve, a, a’, a’’, shows the path Hood suggested for his fleet, with the wind expected to be east-southeast. The positions B, B, B, relate to the actions taken on a later day and are not connected to the diagram at A.
[195] When a fleet is in line ahead, close to the wind, on one tack, and the ships go about together, they will, on the other tack, be on the same line, but not one ahead of the other. This formation was called bow-and-quarter line.
[195] When a fleet is lined up in single file, close to the wind, on one tack, and the ships turn together, they will, on the other tack, still be in a straight line but with no ship ahead of the others. This formation was referred to as a bow-and-quarter line.
[196] A spring is a rope taken from the stern or quarter of a ship at anchor, to an anchor properly placed, by which means the ship can be turned in a desired direction.
[196] A spring is a line taken from the back or side of a ship at anchor to an anchor that's correctly positioned, which allows the ship to be turned in the desired direction.
[197] In the council of war of the allied fleets on the expediency of attacking the English squadron anchored at Torbay (p. 408) an opponent of the measure urged "that the whole of the combined fleets could not bear down upon the English in a line-of-battle abreast, that of course they must form the line-of-battle ahead, and go down upon the enemy singly, by which they would run the greatest risk of being shattered and torn to pieces," etc. (Beatson, vol. v. p. 396).
[197] During the war council of the allied fleets discussing whether to attack the English squadron stationed at Torbay (p. 408), an opponent of the plan argued "that the entire combined fleets couldn't charge the English side by side in a line of battle, which meant they would have to line up ahead and confront the enemy one by one, thereby posing the greatest risk of being defeated and destroyed," etc. (Beatson, vol. v. p. 396).
[198] In war, as in cards, the state of the score must at times dictate the play; and the chief who never takes into consideration the effect which his particular action will have on the general result, nor what is demanded of him by the condition of things elsewhere, both political and military, lacks an essential quality of a great general. "The audacious manner in which Wellington stormed the redoubt of Francisco [at Ciudad Rodrigo], and broke ground on the first night of the investment, the more audacious manner in which he assaulted the place before the fire of the defence had in any way lessened, and before the counterscarp had been blown in, were the true causes of the sudden fall of the place. Both the military and political state of affairs warranted this neglect of rules. When the general terminated his order for the assault with this sentence, 'Ciudad Rodrigo must be stormed this evening,' he knew well that it would be nobly understood" (Napier's Peninsular War). "Judging that the honour of his Majesty's arms, and the circumstances of the war in these seas, required a considerable degree of enterprise, I felt myself justified in departing from the regular system" (Sir John Jervis's Report of the Battle of Cape St. Vincent).
[198] In war, just like in card games, the current score sometimes needs to guide your strategy; a leader who doesn't consider how their actions will impact the overall outcome, or what is expected of them given the political and military situation elsewhere, lacks a crucial trait of a great general. "The bold way Wellington attacked the redoubt of Francisco [at Ciudad Rodrigo] and began operations on the very first night of the siege, and the even bolder way he assaulted the place before the enemy's fire had weakened, and before the counterscarp was breached, were the real reasons for the sudden fall of the fort. Both the military and political situations justified this disregard for the rules. When the general ended his order for the assault with the statement, 'Ciudad Rodrigo must be stormed this evening,' he knew it would be rightly understood" (Napier's Peninsular War). "Recognizing that the honor of His Majesty's forces, and the nature of the war in these waters, required a significant level of boldness, I felt justified in straying from the regular protocol" (Sir John Jervis's Report of the Battle of Cape St. Vincent).
[201] See pp. 366, 426.
[206] The account of the transactions from April 9 to April 12 is based mainly upon the contemporary plates and descriptions of Lieutenant Matthews, R.N., and the much later "Naval Researches" of Capt. Thomas White, also of the British Navy, who were eye-witnesses, both being checked by French and other English narratives. Matthews and White are at variance with Rodney's official report as to the tack on which the English were at daybreak; but the latter is explicitly confirmed by private letters of Sir Charles Douglas, sent immediately after the battle to prominent persons, and is followed in the text.
[206] The details of the events from April 9 to April 12 are primarily drawn from the contemporary accounts and observations of Lieutenant Matthews, R.N., as well as the later "Naval Researches" by Capt. Thomas White, also of the British Navy, both of whom witnessed the events firsthand. These accounts are cross-referenced with French and other British narratives. Matthews and White disagree with Rodney's official report regarding the direction the English were facing at dawn; however, the latter is clearly supported by private letters from Sir Charles Douglas, sent soon after the battle to key individuals, and is followed in the text.
[211] The distance of the weathermost French ships from the "Ville de Paris," when the signal to form line-of-battle was made, is variously stated at from six to nine miles.
[211] The distance of the furthest French ships from the "Ville de Paris," when the order to form the line of battle was given, is reported to be between six and nine miles.
[212] The other two French ships taken were the "Ville de Paris," which, in her isolated condition, and bearing the flag of the commander-in-chief, became the quarry around which the enemy's ships naturally gathered, and the "Ardent," of sixty-four guns, which appears to have been intercepted in a gallant attempt to pass from the van to the side of her admiral in his extremity. The latter was the solitary prize taken by the allied Great Armada in the English Channel, in 1779.
[212] The other two French ships captured were the "Ville de Paris," which, in its isolated state and flying the flag of the commander-in-chief, became the target that the enemy's ships naturally gathered around, and the "Ardent," a sixty-four-gun ship, which seems to have been caught in a brave attempt to move from the front to the side of her admiral in his time of need. The latter was the only prize taken by the allied Great Armada in the English Channel in 1779.
[215] See letter of Sir Howard Douglas in United Service Journal, 1834, Part II. p. 97; also "Naval Evolutions," by same author. The letters of Sir Samuel Hood have not come under the author's eye.
[215] See the letter from Sir Howard Douglas in the United Service Journal, 1834, Part II, p. 97; also "Naval Evolutions," by the same author. The letters of Sir Samuel Hood have not been reviewed by the author.
[217] There were only twenty-five in all.
There were only 25 total.
[218] Guérin, vol. v. p. 511.
[220] Annual Register, 1783, p. 151.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Annual Register, 1783, p. 151.
[223] Page 404. Yet here also the gossip of the day, as reflected in the Naval Atalantis, imputed the chief credit to Young, the captain of the flag-ship. Sir Gilbert Blane stated, many years later, "When it was close upon sunset, it became a question whether the chase should be continued. After some discussion between the admiral and captain, at which I was present, the admiral being confined with the gout, it was decided to persist in the same course with the signal to engage to leeward." (United Service Journal, 1830, Part II. p. 479.)
[223] Page 404. Yet here too, the day's rumors, as reflected in the Naval Atalantis, credited Young, the captain of the flagship, with the main success. Sir Gilbert Blane remarked many years later, "As sunset approached, it became a question of whether to continue the chase. After some discussion between the admiral and captain, which I attended, and with the admiral suffering from gout, it was decided to keep the same course and signal to engage to leeward." (United Service Journal, 1830, Part II. p. 479.)
[224] Rodney was a strong Tory. Almost all the other distinguished admirals of the day, notably Keppel, Howe, and Barrington, were Whigs,—a fact unfortunate for the naval power of England.
[224] Rodney was a strong Tory. Almost all the other notable admirals of the time, especially Keppel, Howe, and Barrington, were Whigs—which was unfortunate for England's naval power.
[226] Chevalier, p. 311.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chevalier, p. 311.
[228] Troude: Batailles Navales. It is interesting to note in this connection that one of the ships near the French admiral, when he surrendered, was the "Pluton," which, though the extreme rear ship, had nevertheless thus reached a position worthy of the high reputation of her captain, D'Albert de Rions.
[228] Troude: Naval Battles. It’s worth mentioning that one of the ships close to the French admiral when he surrendered was the "Pluton," which, despite being the last ship in line, had still managed to attain a position that reflected the esteemed reputation of her captain, D'Albert de Rions.
[229] Troude, vol. ii. p. 147
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Troude, vol. 2, p. 147
CHAPTER XIV.ToC
Critical Discussion of the Maritime War of 1778.
Critical Discussion of the Maritime War of 1778.
The war of 1778, between Great Britain and the House of Bourbon, which is so inextricably associated with the American Revolution, stands by itself in one respect. It was purely a maritime war. Not only did the allied kingdoms carefully refrain from continental entanglements, which England in accordance with her former policy strove to excite, but there was between the two contestants an approach to equality on the sea which had not been realized since the days of Tourville. The points in dispute, the objects for which the war was undertaken or at which it aimed, were for the most part remote from Europe; and none of them was on the continent with the single exception of Gibraltar, the strife over which, being at the extreme point of a rugged and difficult salient, and separated from neutral nations by the whole of France and Spain, never threatened to drag in other parties than those immediately interested.
The war of 1778, between Great Britain and the House of Bourbon, which is so closely linked to the American Revolution, stands out in one way. It was entirely a maritime conflict. The allied kingdoms were careful to stay out of continental disputes that England, following its previous policy, tried to provoke. There was also a rare level of naval equality between the two sides that hadn’t been seen since the time of Tourville. The issues at stake and the goals of the war were mostly far from Europe; none of them were on the continent except for Gibraltar. The conflict over Gibraltar, located at the extreme tip of a rugged and challenging area and separated from neutral nations by all of France and Spain, never posed a threat of involving other parties beyond those directly involved.
No such conditions existed in any war between the accession of Louis XIV. and the downfall of Napoleon. There was a period during the reign of the former in which the French navy was superior in number and equipment to the English and Dutch; but the policy and ambition of the sovereign was always directed to continental extension, and his naval power, resting on inadequate foundations, was ephemeral. During the first three-quarters of the eighteenth century there was practically no check to the sea power of England; great as were its effects upon the issues of the day, the absence of a capable rival made its operations barren of military lessons. In the later wars of the French Republic and [506]Empire, the apparent equality in numbers of ships and weight of batteries was illusive, owing to the demoralization of the French officers and seamen by causes upon which it is not necessary here to enlarge. After some years of courageous but impotent effort, the tremendous disaster of Trafalgar proclaimed to the world the professional inefficiency of the French and Spanish navies, already detected by the keen eyes of Nelson and his brother officers, and upon which rested the contemptuous confidence that characterized his attitude, and to some extent his tactics, toward them. Thenceforward the emperor "turned his eyes from the only field of battle where fortune had been unfaithful to him, and deciding to pursue England elsewhere than upon the seas, undertook to restore his navy, but without reserving to it any share in a strife become more than ever furious.... Up to the last day of the Empire he refused to offer to this restored navy, full of ardor and confidence, the opportunity to measure itself with the enemy."[231] Great Britain resumed her old position as unquestioned mistress of the seas.
No such conditions existed in any war between the rise of Louis XIV and the fall of Napoleon. There was a time during Louis XIV’s reign when the French navy outnumbered and outclassed the English and Dutch fleets; however, the king’s policies and ambitions were always focused on expanding his territory on the continent, and his naval strength, built on weak foundations, was short-lived. For most of the 18th century, England faced virtually no challenge to its naval power; despite its significant impact on contemporary issues, the lack of a strong rival rendered its military operations devoid of lessons learned. In the later conflicts of the French Republic and [506] Empire, the seeming parity in the number of ships and firepower was deceptive, due to the demoralization of French officers and sailors caused by various issues that need not be elaborated upon here. After several years of valiant but ineffective efforts, the catastrophic loss at Trafalgar revealed to the world the professional inadequacy of the French and Spanish navies, which had already been noted by the sharp observations of Nelson and his fellow officers, forming the basis of the dismissive confidence that shaped his attitude and tactics towards them. From that point on, the emperor turned away from the only battleground where luck had betrayed him, deciding to confront England away from the seas, and sought to rebuild his navy, though he did not intend for it to participate in a conflict that had become more intense than ever.... Up until the very end of the Empire, he refused to give his renewed navy, filled with eagerness and confidence, the chance to go up against the enemy.[231] Great Britain reclaimed its status as the undisputed ruler of the seas.
The student of naval war will therefore expect to find a particular interest in the plans and methods of the parties to this great contest, and especially where they concern the general conduct of the whole war, or of certain large and clearly defined portions of it; in the strategic purpose which gave, or should have given, continuity to their actions from first to last, and in the strategic movements which affected for good or ill the fortunes of the more limited periods, which may be called naval campaigns. For while it cannot be conceded that the particular battles are, even at this day, wholly devoid of tactical instruction, which it has been one of the aims of the preceding pages to elicit, it is undoubtedly true that, like all the tactical systems of history, they have had their day, and their present usefulness to the student is rather in the mental training, in the forming of correct tactical habits of thought, than in supplying models for close imitation. On the other hand, the movements which precede and prepare for great [507]battles, or which, by their skilful and energetic combinations, attain great ends without the actual contact of arms, depend upon factors more permanent than the weapons of the age, and therefore furnish principles of more enduring value.
The student of naval warfare can expect to find a specific interest in the strategies and methods of the parties involved in this major conflict, especially regarding their overall approach to the war or specific large, well-defined segments of it. This includes understanding the strategic objectives that should have provided consistency to their actions from beginning to end, as well as the strategic maneuvers that positively or negatively impacted the outcomes of shorter periods, often referred to as naval campaigns. While it can't be argued that the specific battles are completely lacking in tactical lessons, which was one of the goals of the previous pages to highlight, it's certainly true that, like all historical tactical systems, they have had their time, and their current usefulness to students lies more in the mental training they provide and in developing correct tactical thinking habits rather than in offering models for exact imitation. Conversely, the movements that lead up to and set the stage for major [507]battles, or those that achieve significant objectives through skillful and energetic combinations without actual combat, rely on factors that are more permanent than the weapons of the time and therefore offer principles of lasting value.
In a war undertaken for any object, even if that object be the possession of a particular territory or position, an attack directly upon the place coveted may not be, from the military point of view, the best means of obtaining it. The end upon which the military operations are directed may therefore be other than the object which the belligerent government wishes to obtain, and it has received a name of its own,—the objective. In the critical consideration of any war it is necessary, first, to put clearly before the student's eye the objects desired by each belligerent; then, to consider whether the objective chosen is the most likely, in case of success, to compass those objects; and finally, to study the merits or faults of the various movements by which the objective is approached. The minuteness with which such an examination is conducted will depend upon the extent of the work which the inquirer proposes to himself; but it will generally conduce to clearness if an outline, giving only the main features unencumbered by detail, should precede a more exhaustive discussion. When such principal lines are thoroughly grasped, details are easily referred to them, and fall into place. The effort here will be confined to presenting such an outline, as being alone fitted to the scope of this work.
In any war fought for a specific goal, even if that goal is to take control of a certain territory or location, directly attacking the desired place might not be the best military strategy for achieving it. The aim of military operations can therefore differ from what the government involved wants to achieve, and this aim is known as the objective. When analyzing any war, it is crucial to first clearly outline the goals of each side involved; then, assess whether the chosen objective is the most likely route to achieve those goals if successful; and finally, evaluate the strengths and weaknesses of the different strategies used to reach that objective. The level of detail in this analysis will depend on the scope of the research undertaken; however, it generally helps to start with an outline that highlights the main points without excessive detail, followed by a more in-depth discussion. Once these main concepts are well understood, details will easily connect and align with them. This effort will focus on providing such an outline, which is best suited to the purpose of this work.
The principal parties to the War of 1778 were, on the one hand, Great Britain; on the other, the House of Bourbon, controlling the two great kingdoms of France and Spain. The American colonies, being already engaged in an unequal struggle with the mother-country, gladly welcomed an event so important to them; while in 1780 Holland was deliberately forced by England into a war from which she had nothing to gain and all to lose. The object of the Americans was perfectly simple,—to rid their country out of the hands of the English. Their poverty and their lack of military sea power, with the exception of a few cruisers that preyed upon the [508]enemy's commerce, necessarily confined their efforts to land warfare, which constituted indeed a powerful diversion in favor of the allies and an exhausting drain upon the resources of Great Britain, but which it was in the power of the latter to stop at once by abandoning the contest. Holland, on the other hand, being safe from invasion by land, showed little desire for anything more than to escape with as little external loss as possible, through the assistance of the allied navies. The object of these two minor parties may therefore be said to have been the cessation of the war; whereas the principals hoped from its continuance certain changed conditions, which constituted their objects.
The main players in the War of 1778 were, on one side, Great Britain; on the other, the House of Bourbon, which ruled over the major kingdoms of France and Spain. The American colonies, already engaged in an uneven fight with the mother country, were eager for an event of such significance to them; meanwhile, in 1780, Holland was intentionally pulled into a war by England, a conflict from which it would gain nothing and lose everything. The Americans had a clear goal: to free their country from English control. Their poverty and lack of naval military power, aside from a few cruisers that attacked the enemy’s commerce, limited their efforts to land battles. These battles served as a significant diversion for the allies and drained Great Britain's resources, but Britain could have ended it immediately by withdrawing from the conflict. Holland, being safe from a land invasion, showed little interest in anything more than minimizing external losses with the help of the allied navies. Thus, the goals of these two minor parties can be seen as wanting to end the war, while the main players anticipated that prolonging the conflict would bring about certain changes that aligned with their objectives.
With Great Britain also the object of the war was very simple. Having been led into a lamentable altercation with her most promising colonies, the quarrel had gone on step by step till she was threatened with their loss. To maintain forcible control when willing adhesion had departed, she had taken up arms against them, and her object in so doing was to prevent a break in those foreign possessions with which, in the eyes of that generation, her greatness was indissolubly connected. The appearance of France and Spain as active supporters of the colonists' cause made no change in England's objects, whatever change of objective her military plans may, or should, have undergone. The danger of losing the continental colonies was vastly increased by these accessions to the ranks of her enemies, which brought with them also a threat of loss, soon to be realized in part, of other valuable foreign possessions. England, in short, as regards the objects of the war, was strictly on the defensive; she feared losing much, and at best only hoped to keep what she had. By forcing Holland into war, however, she obtained a military advantage; for, without increasing the strength of her opponents, several important but ill-defended military and commercial positions were thereby laid open to her arms.
For Great Britain, the goal of the war was quite straightforward. After getting into a regrettable conflict with her most promising colonies, the dispute escalated until she faced the risk of losing them. To maintain her forceful control, despite the unwillingness of the colonies to cooperate, she resorted to arms against them, aiming to prevent a break in her foreign possessions, which, in that era's view, were closely tied to her greatness. The entry of France and Spain as active supporters of the colonists didn’t change England's goals, though it may have altered her military plans. The risk of losing the continental colonies grew significantly with these additions to her enemies, which also posed a threat to other valuable overseas possessions, a loss that would soon be partly realized. Essentially, England was on the defensive regarding the war's objectives; she feared significant losses and could only hope to retain what she had. However, by drawing Holland into the war, she gained a military advantage; this move did not increase her opponents' strength but opened up several important but poorly defended military and trade positions for her to seize.
The views and objects of France and Spain were more complex. The moral incentives of hereditary enmity and desire of revenge for the recent past doubtless weighed strongly, as [509]in France did also the sympathy of the salons and philosophers with the colonists' struggle for freedom; but powerfully as sentimental considerations affect the action of nations, only the tangible means by which it is expected to gratify them admit of statement and measurement. France might wish to regain her North American possessions; but the then living generation of colonists had too keen personal recollection of the old contests to acquiesce in any such wishes as to Canada. The strong inherited distrust of the French, which characterized the Americans of the revolutionary era, has been too much overlooked in the glow of gratitude which followed the effectual sympathy and assistance then given; but it was understood at the time, and France felt, that to renew those pretensions might promote, between people of the same race only recently alienated, a reconciliation by just concessions, which a strong and high-minded party of Englishmen had never ceased to advocate. She therefore did not avow, perhaps did not entertain, this object. On the contrary, she formally renounced all claim to any part of the continent which was then, or had recently been, under the power of the British crown, but stipulated for freedom of action in conquering and retaining any of the West India Islands, while all the other colonies of Great Britain were, of course, open to her attack. The principal objects at which France aimed were therefore the English West Indies and that control of India which had passed into English hands, and also to secure in due time the independence of the United States, after they had wrought a sufficient diversion in her favor. With the policy of exclusive trade which characterized that generation, the loss of these important possessions was expected to lessen that commercial greatness upon which the prosperity of England depended,—to weaken her and to strengthen France. In fact, the strife which should be greater may be said to have been the animating motive of France; all objects were summed up in the one supreme end to which they contributed,—maritime and political superiority over England.
The perspectives and interests of France and Spain were more complicated. The longstanding animosity and desire for revenge from recent events definitely played a significant role. In France, there was also the support from the salons and philosophers for the colonists' fight for freedom. However, as much as emotional factors influence national actions, only the actual resources expected to satisfy those desires can be clearly defined and measured. France might have wanted to reclaim its North American territories, but the colonists living at the time had too vivid a memory of past conflicts to accept any such ambitions regarding Canada. The deep-seated distrust of the French that marked the American revolutionary era has often been overlooked in the gratitude that followed the effective support provided. Nevertheless, it was understood back then, and France recognized, that reviving those claims could foster a reconciliation between two recently separated groups of the same race through fair concessions, something a prominent and noble faction of Englishmen had always supported. Therefore, France did not openly express this goal, and perhaps didn't even consider it. Instead, she officially renounced any claims to any part of the continent that was under British control at that time or had recently been, but reserved the right to act freely in conquering and holding any of the West Indies islands, while, of course, all of Great Britain's other colonies were open to her attacks. The main objectives for France were the English West Indies, regaining control of India, which had fallen into English hands, and ensuring the eventual independence of the United States, once they had created enough distraction in her favor. With the exclusive trade policy of that time, the loss of these key territories was expected to diminish the commercial power that England relied on for its prosperity—weakening England and strengthening France. Ultimately, the struggle for what would matter most turned out to be France's driving force; all goals were unified under the primary aim of achieving maritime and political dominance over England.
Preponderance over England, in combination with France, [510]was also the aim of the equally humbled but less vigorous kingdom of Spain; but there was a definiteness in the injuries suffered and the objects specially sought by her which is less easily found in the broader views of her ally. Although no Spaniard then living could remember the Spanish flag flying over Minorca, Gibraltar, or Jamaica, the lapse of time had not reconciled the proud and tenacious nation to their loss; nor was there on the part of the Americans the same traditional objection to the renewal of Spanish sovereignty over the two Floridas that was felt with reference to Canada.
Gaining dominance over England, alongside France, [510] was also the goal of the weakened but less vigorous kingdom of Spain; however, there was a clarity about the injuries suffered and the specific objectives pursued by Spain that is less easily found in the broader perspective of its ally. Even though no Spaniard alive at the time could remember the Spanish flag flying over Minorca, Gibraltar, or Jamaica, the passage of time had not made the proud and persistent nation accept their loss; nor did the Americans share the same historical resistance to the reinstatement of Spanish control over the two Floridas that they felt regarding Canada.
Such, then, were the objects sought by the two nations, whose interposition changed the whole character of the American Revolutionary War. It is needless to say that they did not all appear among the causes, or pretexts, avowed for engaging in hostility; but sagacious English opinion of the day rightly noted, as embodying in a few words the real ground of action of the united Bourbon Courts, the following phrase in the French manifesto: "To avenge their respective injuries, and to put an end to that tyrannical empire which England has usurped, and claims to maintain upon the ocean." In short, as regards the objects of the war the allies were on the offensive, as England was thrown upon the defensive.
The two nations had specific goals that completely changed the nature of the American Revolutionary War. It goes without saying that these goals weren’t all mentioned as reasons or excuses for going to war; however, astute English opinion at the time accurately captured the true motivation behind the united Bourbon Courts with the following phrase from the French manifesto: "To avenge their respective injuries and to end the tyrannical empire that England has taken over and claims to maintain on the ocean." In short, in terms of the goals of the war, the allies were on the offensive while England found itself on the defensive.
The tyrannical empire which England was thus accused, and not unjustly, of exercising over the seas, rested upon her great sea power, actual or latent; upon her commerce and armed shipping, her commercial establishments, colonies, and naval stations in all parts of the world. Up to this time her scattered colonies had been bound to her by ties of affectionate sentiment, and by the still stronger motive of self-interest through the close commercial connection with the mother-country and the protection afforded by the constant presence of her superior navy. Now a break was made in the girdle of strong ports upon which her naval power was based, by the revolt of the continental colonies; while the numerous trade interests between them and the West Indies, which were injured by the consequent hostilities, tended to divide the sympathies of the islands also. The struggle was not only for [511]political possession and commercial use. It involved a military question of the first importance,—whether a chain of naval stations covering one of the shores of the Atlantic, linking Canada and Halifax with the West Indies, and backed by a thriving seafaring population, should remain in the hands of a nation which had so far used its unprecedented sea power with consistent, resolute aggressiveness, and with almost unbroken success.
The oppressive empire that England was accused of dominating the seas with, not without reason, relied on her significant naval power, whether visible or hidden; on her trade and military shipping, her commercial operations, colonies, and naval bases worldwide. Until now, her scattered colonies were tied to her through bonds of mutual affection and the even stronger motivation of self-interest, thanks to the close commercial links with the mother country and the protection provided by the constant presence of her powerful navy. Now, a break was created in the strong network of ports that supported her naval strength due to the revolt of the continental colonies; meanwhile, the many trade interests between them and the West Indies, which suffered from the resulting hostilities, began to divide the support of the islands as well. The conflict was not just about political control and commercial benefit. It raised a crucial military question: whether a chain of naval bases spanning one side of the Atlantic, linking Canada and Halifax with the West Indies, and supported by a thriving maritime community, should remain under the control of a nation that had consistently used its extraordinary naval power with determined aggression and almost unbroken success.
While Great Britain was thus embarrassed by the difficulty of maintaining her hold upon her naval bases, which were the defensive element of her naval strength, her offensive naval power, her fleet, was threatened by the growth of the armed shipping of France and Spain, which now confronted her upon the field which she had claimed as her own, with an organized military force of equal or superior material strength. The moment was therefore favorable for attacking the great Power whose wealth, reaped from the sea, had been a decisive factor in the European wars of the past century. The next question was the selection of the points of attack—of the principal objectives upon which the main effort of the assailants should be steadily directed, and of the secondary objectives by which the defence should be distracted and its strength dissipated.
While Great Britain struggled to maintain her naval bases, crucial to her defensive strength, her offensive naval power, represented by her fleet, faced threats from the growing military shipping of France and Spain. These nations now confronted her in the regions she had claimed as her own, backed by an organized military force of equal or greater strength. This moment was therefore ideal for launching an attack on the major power whose wealth, drawn from the sea, had played a decisive role in the European wars of the past century. The next question was how to choose the points of attack—the main objectives that the attackers should focus on relentlessly, and the secondary objectives that could distract the defense and weaken its strength.
One of the wisest French statesmen of that day, Turgot, held that it was to the interest of France that the colonies should not achieve their independence. If subdued by exhaustion, their strength was lost to England; if reduced by a military tenure of controlling points, but not exhausted, the necessity of constant repression would be a continual weakness to the mother-country. Though this opinion did not prevail in the councils of the French government, which wished the ultimate independence of America, it contained elements of truth which effectually moulded the policy of the war. If benefit to the United States, by effecting their deliverance, were the principal object, the continent became the natural scene, and its decisive military points the chief objectives, of operations; but as the first object of France was not to benefit America, but to injure England, sound military judgment dictated that the [512]continental strife, so far from being helped to a conclusion, should be kept in vigorous life. It was a diversion ready made to the hand of France and exhausting to Great Britain, requiring only so much support as would sustain a resistance to which the insurgents were bound by the most desperate alternatives. The territory of the thirteen colonies therefore should not be the principal objective of France; much less that of Spain.
One of the smartest French leaders of that time, Turgot, believed that it was in France's best interest for the colonies not to gain their independence. If they were defeated by fatigue, their power would be lost to England; if they were weakened by military control of key points but not completely defeated, the need for constant suppression would be a continual strain on the mother country. Although this viewpoint wasn't accepted by the French government, which wanted America to eventually become independent, it contained truths that significantly influenced the war's policies. While helping the United States gain freedom was the main goal, the continent became the natural battleground, and its key military points the primary targets for operations. However, since France’s main aim was not to assist America but to undermine England, sound military strategy suggested that the [512] continental conflict should not be rushed to a resolution but rather kept alive and vigorous. It was a ready-made distraction for France and a drain on Great Britain, requiring just enough support to maintain a resistance that the insurgents had no choice but to continue. Therefore, the territory of the thirteen colonies should not be the main focus for France, let alone for Spain.
The commercial value of the English West Indies made them tempting objects to the French, who adapted themselves with peculiar readiness to the social conditions of that region, in which their colonial possessions were already extensive. Besides the two finest of the Lesser Antilles, Guadeloupe and Martinique, which she still retains, France then held Sta. Lucia and the western half of Hayti. She might well hope by successful war to add most of the English Antilles, and thus to round off a truly imperial tropical dependency; while, though debarred from Jamaica by the susceptibilities of Spain, it might be possible to win back that magnificent island for an allied and weaker nation. But however desirable as possessions, and therefore as objects, the smaller Antilles might be, their military tenure depended too entirely upon control of the sea for them to be in themselves proper objectives. The French government, therefore, forbade its naval commanders to occupy such as they might seize. They were to make the garrisons prisoners, destroy the defences, and so retire. In the excellent military port of Fort Royal, Martinique, in Cap Français, and in the strong allied harbor of Havana, a fleet of adequate size found good, secure, and well-distributed bases; while the early and serious loss of Sta. Lucia must be attributed to the mismanagement of the French fleet and the professional ability of the English admiral. On shore, in the West Indies, the rival powers therefore found themselves about equally provided with the necessary points of support; mere occupation of others could not add to their military strength, thenceforth dependent upon the numbers and quality of the fleets. To extend occupation further with safety, the first need [513]was to obtain maritime supremacy, not only locally, but over the general field of war. Otherwise occupation was precarious, unless enforced by a body of troops so large as to entail expense beyond the worth of the object. The key of the situation in the West Indies being thus in the fleets, these became the true objectives of the military effort; and all the more so because the real military usefulness of the West Indian ports in this war was as an intermediate base, between Europe and the American continent, to which the fleets retired when the armies went into winter quarters. No sound strategic operation on shore was undertaken in the West Indies except the seizure of Sta. Lucia by the English, and the abortive plan against Jamaica in 1782; nor was any serious attempt against a military port, as Barbadoes or Fort Royal, possible, until naval preponderance was assured either by battle or by happy concentration of force. The key of the situation, it must be repeated, was in the fleet.
The commercial value of the English West Indies made them attractive targets for the French, who quickly adapted to the social conditions of that region, where they already had extensive colonial holdings. In addition to the two finest of the Lesser Antilles, Guadeloupe and Martinique, which they still own, France also controlled St. Lucia and the western half of Haiti. They had good reason to hope that by waging a successful war, they could add most of the English Antilles, creating a truly imperial tropical territory; while, although excluded from Jamaica due to Spain's sensitivities, it might be possible to reclaim that magnificent island for an allied, weaker nation. However desirable the smaller Antilles might be as possessions, their military control relied solely on naval dominance, making them unsuitable as direct objectives. Thus, the French government instructed its naval commanders not to occupy any islands they might capture. They were to take the garrisons prisoner, destroy the defenses, and then withdraw. In the excellent military port of Fort Royal, Martinique, in Cap Français, and in the strong allied harbor of Havana, there was a fleet of adequate size that found secure and well-distributed bases. The early and serious loss of St. Lucia was due to the French fleet's mismanagement and the English admiral's professional skill. On land in the West Indies, both rival powers were similarly equipped with necessary support points; merely occupying other territories wouldn’t enhance their military strength, which from then on relied on the size and quality of their fleets. To safely expand their occupation, the first priority was to gain maritime superiority, not just locally but across the broader battlefield. Otherwise, occupation was risky unless supported by a troop presence so large that it would exceed the value of the territory. The key to the situation in the West Indies was thus in the fleets, making them the true military objectives; all the more so because the real military usefulness of the West Indian ports was as an intermediary base between Europe and the American continent, where the fleets retreated during winter quarters. No substantial strategic operations took place on land in the West Indies, except for the English seizure of St. Lucia and the failed plan against Jamaica in 1782; nor was there any serious attempt against a military port like Barbados or Fort Royal possible until naval dominance was secured either through battle or through favorable troop concentration. The importance of the fleet must be emphasized again; it was the key to the situation.
The influence of naval power, of an armed fleet, upon the war on the American continent has also been indicated in the opinions of Washington and Sir Henry Clinton; while the situation in the East Indies, regarded as a field by itself, has been so largely discussed under the head of Suffren's campaign, that it needs here only to repeat that everything there depended upon control of the sea by a superior naval force. The capture of Trincomalee, essential as it was to the French squadron which had no other base, was, like that of Sta. Lucia, a surprise, and could only have been effected by the defeat, or, as happened, by the absence of the enemy's fleet. In North America and India sound military policy pointed out, as the true objective, the enemy's fleet, upon which also depended the communications with the mother-countries. There remains Europe, which it is scarcely profitable to examine at length as a separate field of action, because its relations to the universal war are so much more important. It may simply be pointed out that the only two points in Europe whose political transfer was an object of the war were Gibraltar and Minorca; the former of which was throughout, by the urgency of Spain, [514]made a principal objective of the allies. The tenure of both these depended, obviously, upon control of the sea.
The impact of naval power, specifically an armed fleet, on the conflict in America has also been highlighted in the views of Washington and Sir Henry Clinton. The situation in the East Indies, seen as a separate theater, has been extensively discussed regarding Suffren's campaign, so it’s worth mentioning that everything there relied on having naval superiority. The capture of Trincomalee, crucial for the French squadron that had no other base, was a surprise attack, similar to Sta. Lucia, and could only have happened because the enemy fleet was defeated or, as it turned out, absent. In North America and India, solid military policy indicated that the true target was the enemy's fleet, which also influenced communications with the home countries. Europe remains, though it's not particularly useful to explore in detail as a separate battlefield, because its connections to the larger war are far more significant. It can be noted that the only two places in Europe that were sought after in the war were Gibraltar and Minorca; the former was consistently emphasized as a key objective by Spain and the allies. The control of both locations obviously hinged on naval dominance.
In a sea war, as in all others, two things are from the first essential,—a suitable base upon the frontier, in this case the seaboard, from which the operations start, and an organized military force, in this case a fleet, of size and quality adequate to the proposed operations. If the war, as in the present instance, extends to distant parts of the globe, there will be needed in each of those distant regions secure ports for the shipping, to serve as secondary, or contingent, bases of the local war. Between these secondary and the principal, or home, bases there must be reasonably secure communication, which will depend upon military control of the intervening sea. This control must be exercised by the navy, which will enforce it either by clearing the sea in all directions of hostile cruisers, thus allowing the ships of its own nation to pass with reasonable security, or by accompanying in force (convoying) each train of supply-ships necessary for the support of the distant operations. The former method aims at a widely diffused effort of the national power, the other at a concentration of it upon that part of the sea where the convoy is at a given moment. Whichever be adopted, the communications will doubtless be strengthened by the military holding of good harbors, properly spaced yet not too numerous, along the routes,—as, for instance, the Cape of Good Hope and the Mauritius. Stations of this kind have always been necessary, but are doubly so now, as fuel needs renewing more frequently than did the provisions and supplies in former days. These combinations of strong points at home and abroad, and the condition of the communications between them, may be called the strategic features of the general military situation, by which, and by the relative strength of the opposing fleets, the nature of the operations must be determined. In each of the three divisions of the field, Europe, America, and India, under which for sake of clearness the narrative has been given, the control of the sea has been insisted upon as the determining factor, and the hostile fleet therefore indicated as the true objective. Let the [515]foregoing considerations now be applied to the whole field of war, and see how far the same conclusion holds good of it, and if so, what should have been the nature of the operations on either side.[232]
In a naval war, like in any war, two things are essential right from the start: a suitable base on the front line, in this case the coastline, to launch operations from, and a well-organized military force, in this case a fleet, that is both sufficiently large and of good quality for the planned operations. If the war, as in this case, reaches far-off parts of the world, secure ports in those distant areas will be needed for shipping, serving as secondary or backup bases for the local conflict. There must also be reliable communication between these secondary bases and the main or home bases, which relies on military control of the waters in between. This control needs to be maintained by the navy, which will either clear the sea of enemy ships to allow its own vessels to pass safely or provide an escort for each group of supply ships necessary to support the distant operations. The first method focuses on a broad deployment of national power, while the second concentrates it on the area of the sea where the escort is at that particular moment. In either case, communication will undoubtedly be enhanced by maintaining good ports at strategic intervals, but not too many, along the routes—such as the Cape of Good Hope and Mauritius. These types of stations have always been necessary, but they are even more crucial now, as refueling is needed more often than resupplying provisions did in earlier times. The combination of strongholds at home and abroad, and the state of communication between them, can be referred to as the strategic aspects of the overall military situation, which will determine the nature of operations depending on the relative strength of the opposing fleets. In the three areas of the battlefield, Europe, America, and India, which the narrative has been organized around for clarity, controlling the sea has been emphasized as a critical factor, with the enemy fleet considered the main target. Let the [515]above points now be applied to the entire scope of the war and see how far the same conclusion applies, and if so, what the operations on either side should have looked like.[232]
In Europe the home base of Great Britain was on the English Channel, with the two principal arsenals of Plymouth and Portsmouth. The base of the allied powers was on the Atlantic, the principal military ports being Brest, Ferrol, and Cadiz. Behind these, within the Mediterranean, were the dock-yards of Toulon and Cartagena, over against which stood the English station Port Mahon, in Minorca. The latter, however, may be left wholly out of account, being confined to a defensive part during the war, as the British fleet was not able to spare any squadron to the Mediterranean. Gibraltar, on the contrary, by its position, effectually watched over detachments or reinforcements from within the Straits, provided it were utilized as the station of a body of ships adequate to the duty. This was not done; the British European fleet being kept tied to the Channel, that is, to home defence, and making infrequent visits to the Rock to convoy supplies essential to the endurance of the garrison. There was, however, a difference in the parts played by Port Mahon and Gibraltar. The former, being at the time wholly unimportant, received no attention from the allies until late in the war, when it fell after a six months' siege; whereas the latter, being considered of the first importance, absorbed from the beginning a very large part of the allied attack, and so made a valuable diversion in favor of Great Britain. To this view of the principal features of the natural strategic situation in Europe may properly be added the remark, that such aid as Holland might be inclined to send to the allied fleets had a very insecure line of communication, being forced to pass along the English base on the Channel. Such aid in fact was never given.
In Europe, Great Britain's main base was on the English Channel, with the two key arsenals at Plymouth and Portsmouth. The base for the allied powers was in the Atlantic, with the main military ports being Brest, Ferrol, and Cadiz. Behind these, in the Mediterranean, were the dockyards of Toulon and Cartagena, opposite which was the British station at Port Mahon in Minorca. However, the latter could largely be disregarded since it was limited to a defensive role during the war, as the British fleet couldn't spare any squadron for the Mediterranean. In contrast, Gibraltar, due to its location, effectively monitored detachments or reinforcements from within the Straits, provided it was used as the station for a sufficient number of ships for the task. This wasn't done; the British European fleet remained focused on the Channel for home defense, making only occasional trips to the Rock to deliver supplies crucial for the garrison's survival. However, there was a notable difference in the roles of Port Mahon and Gibraltar. The former, at that time entirely unimportant, received no attention from the allies until late in the war when it fell after a six-month siege. In contrast, Gibraltar was deemed critical and attracted a significant part of the allied assault from the beginning, providing a valuable distraction for Great Britain. Additionally, it's worth noting that any support Holland might have been willing to send to the allied fleets faced an insecure line of communication, having to pass along the English base on the Channel. Ultimately, such support was never provided.
In North America the local bases of the war at its outbreak were New York, Narragansett Bay, and Boston. The two former were then held by the English, and were the most [516]important stations on the continent, from their position, susceptibility of defence, and resources. Boston had passed into the hands of the Americans, and was therefore at the service of the allies. From the direction actually given to the war, by diverting the active English operations to the Southern States in 1779, Boston was thrown outside the principal theatre of operations, and became from its position militarily unimportant; but had the plan been adopted of isolating New England by holding the line of the Hudson and Lake Champlain, and concentrating military effort to the eastward, it will be seen that these three ports would all have been of decisive importance to the issue. South of New York, the Delaware and Chesapeake Bays undoubtedly offered tempting fields for maritime enterprise; but the width of the entrances, the want of suitable and easily defended points for naval stations near the sea, the wide dispersal of the land forces entailed by an attempt to hold so many points, and the sickliness of the locality during a great part of the year, should have excepted them from a principal part in the plan of the first campaigns. It is not necessary to include them among the local bases of the war. To the extreme south the English were drawn by the ignis fatuus of expected support among the people. They failed to consider that even if a majority there preferred quiet to freedom, that very quality would prevent them from rising against the revolutionary government by which, on the English theory, they were oppressed; yet upon such a rising the whole success of this distant and in its end most unfortunate enterprise was staked. The local base of this war apart was Charleston, which passed into the hands of the British in May, 1780, eighteen months after the first expedition had landed in Georgia.
At the start of the war in North America, the key locations were New York, Narragansett Bay, and Boston. The first two were controlled by the English and were the most [516]important stations on the continent, due to their strategic positions, ease of defense, and resources. Boston had fallen into American hands, making it available for the allies. When the war shifted focus towards the Southern States in 1779, Boston moved out of the main area of operations and became less significant militarily. However, if there had been a strategy to isolate New England by securing the Hudson and Lake Champlain lines and concentrating military efforts to the east, those three ports could have been crucial to the outcome. South of New York, Delaware and Chesapeake Bays seemed like good options for maritime activities. Still, the wide entrances, lack of suitable and defensible naval station points near the coast, the spread of land forces required to control so many locations, and the unhealthiness of the area for much of the year should have ruled them out as key components of the first campaign plans. There’s no need to view them as major bases for the war. In the far south, the English were misled by the false hope of local support. They overlooked that even if most people there preferred peace over freedom, that very preference would stop them from rising against the revolutionary government, which they believed was oppressing them according to English notions. Yet the success of this distant and ultimately failed venture depended on such a revolt. Charleston was another local base for the war; it fell into British hands in May 1780, eighteen months after the first expedition had landed in Georgia.
The principal local bases of the war in the West Indies are already known through the previous narrative. They were for the English, Barbadoes, Sta. Lucia, and to a less degree Antigua. A thousand miles to leeward was the large island of Jamaica, with a dock-yard of great natural capabilities at Kingston. The allies held, in the first order of importance, [517]Fort Royal in Martinique, and Havana; in the second order, Guadeloupe and Cap Français. A controlling feature of the strategic situation in that day, and one which will not be wholly without weight in our own, was the trade-wind, with its accompanying current. A passage to windward against these obstacles was a long and serious undertaking even for single ships, much more for larger bodies. It followed that fleets would go to the western islands only reluctantly, or when assured that the enemy had taken the same direction, as Rodney went to Jamaica after the Battle of the Saints, knowing the French fleet to have gone to Cap Français. This condition of the wind made the windward, or eastern, islands points on the natural lines of communication between Europe and America, as well as local bases of the naval war, and tied the fleets to them. Hence also it followed that between the two scenes of operations, between the continent and the Lesser Antilles, was interposed a wide central region into which the larger operations of war could not safely be carried except by a belligerent possessed of great naval superiority, or unless a decisive advantage had been gained upon one flank. In 1762, when England held all the Windward Islands, with undisputed superiority at sea, she safely attacked and subdued Havana; but in the years 1779-1782 the French sea power in America and the French tenure of the Windward Islands practically balanced her own, leaving the Spaniards at Havana free to prosecute their designs against Pensacola and the Bahamas, in the central region mentioned.[233]
The main local bases of the war in the West Indies are already outlined in the previous narrative. For the English, these bases were Barbados, St. Lucia, and to a lesser extent, Antigua. A thousand miles to the south was the large island of Jamaica, which had a dockyard with great natural advantages at Kingston. The allies held, as the top priorities, [517] Fort Royal in Martinique and Havana; in the second tier, Guadeloupe and Cap Français. A key factor in the strategic situation back then, which still holds some relevance today, was the trade wind and its accompanying current. Navigating against these forces was a long and serious task, even for single ships, let alone larger fleets. Consequently, fleets would only venture to the western islands reluctantly or when they were sure the enemy had chosen the same direction, as Rodney did when he went to Jamaica after the Battle of the Saints, confident that the French fleet headed to Cap Français. The wind conditions made the windward, or eastern, islands essential points on the natural routes of communication between Europe and America, as well as local bases for the naval conflict, tying the fleets to them. It also meant that between the two areas of operation—the continent and the Lesser Antilles—there was a wide central region where larger military operations could only be safely conducted by a belligerent with considerable naval superiority or after gaining a decisive advantage on one side. In 1762, when England controlled all the Windward Islands and had unquestioned dominance at sea, she successfully attacked and took Havana; however, from 1779 to 1782, the French naval power in America and their control over the Windward Islands nearly matched England's, allowing the Spaniards in Havana to pursue their plans against Pensacola and the Bahamas in the mentioned central region.[233]
[518]Posts like Martinique and Sta. Lucia had therefore for the present war great strategic advantage over Jamaica, Havana, or others to leeward. They commanded the latter in virtue of their position, by which the passage westward could be made so much more quickly than the return; while the decisive points of the continental struggle were practically little farther from the one than from the other. This advantage was shared equally by most of those known as the Lesser Antilles; but the small island of Barbadoes, being well to windward of all, possessed peculiar advantages, not only for offensive action, but because it was defended by the difficulty with which a large fleet could approach it, even from so near a port as Fort Royal. It will be remembered that the expedition which finally sat down before St. Kitt's had been intended for Barbadoes, but could not reach it through the violence of the trade-wind. Thus Barbadoes, under the conditions of the time, was peculiarly fitted to be the local base and depot of the English war, as well as a wayside port of refuge on the line of communications to Jamaica, Florida, and even to North America; while Sta. Lucia, a hundred miles to leeward, was held in force as an advanced post for the fleet, watching closely the enemy at Fort Royal.
[518]Posts like Martinique and St. Lucia had a significant strategic advantage over Jamaica, Havana, and other locations downwind in this war. Their positioning allowed for much quicker westward movement compared to returning eastward. The critical points of the continental struggle were roughly the same distance from each of them. Most of the Lesser Antilles shared this advantage; however, Barbados, located well upwind of all, had unique benefits for offensive actions and was harder for large fleets to approach, even from a nearby port like Fort Royal. It’s important to note that the expedition that eventually targeted St. Kitts was originally meant for Barbados but couldn't get there due to the fierce trade winds. Therefore, under the circumstances of the time, Barbados was especially suited to serve as the local base and supply center for the English war effort, as well as a safe haven along the route to Jamaica, Florida, and even North America. Meanwhile, St. Lucia, about a hundred miles downwind, was heavily occupied as a forward position for the fleet, closely monitoring the enemy at Fort Royal.
In India the political conditions of the peninsula necessarily indicated the eastern, or Coromandel, coast as the scene of operations. Trincomalee, in the adjacent island of Ceylon, though unhealthy, offered an excellent and defensible harbor, and thus acquired first-rate strategic importance, all the other anchorages on the coast being mere open roadsteads. From this circumstance the trade-winds, or monsoons, in this region also had strategic bearing. From the autumnal to the spring equinox the wind blows regularly from the northeast, at times with much violence, throwing a heavy surf upon the beach and making landing difficult; but during the summer months the prevailing wind is southwest, giving comparatively smooth seas and good weather. The "change of the monsoon," in September and October, is often marked by violent hurricanes. Active operations, or even remaining [519]on the coast, were therefore unadvisable from this time until the close of the northeast monsoon. The question of a port to which to retire during this season was pressing. Trincomalee was the only one, and its unique strategic value was heightened by being to windward, during the fine season, of the principal scene of war. The English harbor of Bombay on the west coast was too distant to be considered a local base, and rather falls, like the French islands Mauritius and Bourbon, under the head of stations on the line of communications with the mother-country.
In India, the political situation on the peninsula made the eastern, or Coromandel, coast the main area for operations. Trincomalee, on the nearby island of Ceylon, was unhealthy but provided an excellent and defensible harbor, giving it major strategic importance, since all the other anchorages along the coast were just open roadsteads. The trade winds, or monsoons, in this area were also strategically important. From autumn until spring equinox, the wind consistently blows from the northeast, sometimes violently, creating a heavy surf on the beach and making landings difficult; however, during the summer months, the prevailing wind shifts to the southwest, resulting in smoother seas and better weather. The "change of the monsoon" in September and October is often accompanied by severe hurricanes. As a result, active operations or even staying [519] on the coast were unwise from this point until the end of the northeast monsoon. The need for a port to retreat to during this period was urgent. Trincomalee was the only option, and its unique strategic advantage was enhanced by its position to the windward side during the favorable season of war. The English harbor of Bombay on the west coast was too far away to be considered a local base and was more aligned, like the French islands of Mauritius and Bourbon, with stations along the route back to the mother country.
Such were the principal points of support, or bases, of the belligerent nations, at home and abroad. Of those abroad it must be said, speaking generally, that they were deficient in resources,—an important element of strategic value. Naval and military stores and equipments, and to a great extent provisions for sea use, had to be sent them from the mother-countries. Boston, surrounded by a thriving, friendly population, was perhaps an exception to this statement, as was also Havana, at that time an important naval arsenal, where much ship-building was done; but these were distant from the principal theatres of war. Upon New York and Narragansett Bay the Americans pressed too closely for the resources of the neighboring country to be largely available, while the distant ports of the East and West Indies depended wholly upon home. Hence the strategic question of communications assumed additional importance. To intercept a large convoy of supply-ships was an operation only secondary to the destruction of a body of ships-of-war; while to protect such by main strength, or by evading the enemy's search, taxed the skill of the governments and naval commanders in distributing the ships-of-war and squadrons at their disposal, among the many objects which demanded attention. The address of Kempenfeldt and the bad management of Guichen in the North Atlantic, seconded by a heavy gale of wind, seriously embarrassed De Grasse in the West Indies. Similar injury, by cutting off small convoys in the Atlantic, was done to Suffren in the Indian seas: while the latter at [520]once made good part of these losses, and worried his opponents by the success of his cruisers preying on the English supply-ships.
Here are the main points of support, or bases, for the warring nations, both at home and abroad. Generally speaking, the resources abroad were lacking—an important factor in strategic value. Naval and military supplies, along with a significant amount of provisions for sea use, had to be shipped from the mother countries. Boston, surrounded by a thriving and friendly population, might be an exception to this, as was Havana, which was an important naval base at the time where a lot of shipbuilding occurred; however, both were far from the main battlefields. In New York and Narragansett Bay, the Americans pressed too closely for the neighboring country's resources to be widely available, while the distant ports in the East and West Indies relied entirely on supplies from home. Therefore, the strategic issue of communication became even more crucial. Intercepting a large convoy of supply ships was almost as critical as destroying a fleet of warships; protecting these ships, either by sheer strength or by avoiding the enemy's detection, challenged the skills of governments and naval commanders in allocating their warships and fleets among the many priorities that needed attention. Kempenfeldt's skill and Guichen's poor management in the North Atlantic, coupled with a strong gale, significantly hindered De Grasse in the West Indies. Similar setbacks occurred for Suffren in the Indian seas due to the interception of small convoys in the Atlantic: however, he managed to recover a portion of these losses at [520] and troubled his opponents by successfully using his cruisers to attack English supply ships.
Thus the navies, by which alone these vital streams could be secured or endangered, bore the same relation to the maintenance of the general war that has already been observed of the separate parts. They were the links that bound the whole together, and were therefore indicated as the proper objective of both belligerents.
Thus the navies, which were the only way to secure or threaten these vital routes, were crucial to the overall war effort just as the individual components have been noted to be. They were the connections that held everything together, and for that reason, they were seen as the main target for both sides in the conflict.
The distance from Europe to America was not such as to make intermediate ports of supply absolutely necessary; while if difficulty did arise from an unforeseen cause, it was always possible, barring meeting an enemy, either to return to Europe or to make a friendly port in the West Indies. The case was different with the long voyage to India by the Cape of Good Hope. Bickerton, leaving England with a convoy in February, was thought to have done well in reaching Bombay the following September; while the ardent Suffren, sailing in March, took an equal time to reach Mauritius, whence the passage to Madras consumed two months more. A voyage of such duration could rarely be made without a stop for water, for fresh provision, often for such refitting as called for the quiet of a harbor, even when the stores on board furnished the necessary material. A perfect line of communications required, as has been said, several such harbors, properly spaced, adequately defended, and with abundant supplies, such as England in the present day holds on some of her main commercial routes, acquisitions of her past wars. In the war of 1778 none of the belligerents had such ports on this route, until by the accession of Holland, the Cape of Good Hope was put at the disposal of the French and suitably strengthened by Suffren. With this and the Mauritius on the way, and Trincomalee at the far end of the road, the communications of the allies with France were reasonably guarded. England, though then holding St. Helena, depended, for the refreshment and refitting of her India-bound squadrons and convoys in the Atlantic, upon the [521]benevolent neutrality of Portugal, extended in the islands of Madeira and Cape Verde and in the Brazilian ports. This neutrality was indeed a frail reliance for defence, as was shown by the encounter between Johnstone and Suffren at the Cape Verde; but there being several possible stopping-places, and the enemy unable to know which, if any, would be used, this ignorance itself conferred no small security, if the naval commander did not trust it to the neglect of proper disposition of his own force, as did Johnstone at Porto Praya. Indeed, with the delay and uncertainty which then characterized the transmission of intelligence from one point to another, doubt where to find the enemy was a greater bar to offensive enterprises than the often slight defences of a colonial port.
The distance from Europe to America wasn't enough to make stops at intermediate supply ports essential. If any difficulties came up unexpectedly, it was still possible, as long as there wasn’t an enemy present, to either return to Europe or reach a friendly port in the West Indies. The situation was different for the long journey to India by way of the Cape of Good Hope. Bickerton, who left England with a convoy in February, was considered successful for arriving in Bombay the following September, while the enthusiastic Suffren, who set sail in March, took the same amount of time to reach Mauritius, and then it took another two months to get to Madras. A voyage of that length typically required stops for fresh water, fresh food, and often for repairs that needed the peace of a harbor, even if the supplies on board were enough. A reliable line of communication required multiple well-spaced harbors that were properly defended and supplied, similar to what England has today on some of its main commercial routes, thanks to its past wars. During the war of 1778, neither side had such ports along this route until Holland joined in, allowing the French to use the Cape of Good Hope, which Suffren reinforced. With this port and Mauritius on the way, plus Trincomalee at the end of the route, the allies had a decent line of communication with France. While England had control of St. Helena, it relied on Portugal's friendly neutrality for resupplying and repairing its India-bound fleets and convoys in the Atlantic, extending to the islands of Madeira and Cape Verde and Brazilian ports. This neutrality was indeed a shaky basis for defense, as demonstrated by the encounter between Johnstone and Suffren at Cape Verde. However, with several potential stopping points and the enemy unaware of which ones, if any, would be used, that uncertainty itself provided some security—unless the naval commander neglected to properly position his forces, as Johnstone did at Porto Praya. In fact, given the delays and uncertainties that defined communication between locations at the time, not knowing where to find the enemy was a bigger obstacle to offensive actions than the often minimal defenses of a colonial port.
This combination of useful harbors and the conditions of the communications between them constitute, as has been said, the main strategic outlines of the situation. The navy, as the organized force linking the whole together, has been indicated as the principal objective of military effort. The method employed to reach the objective, the conduct of the war, is still to be considered.[234]
This mix of useful ports and the setup of communication between them forms, as mentioned, the main strategic framework of the situation. The navy, serving as the coordinated force that connects everything, has been identified as the key target of military efforts. The approach used to achieve this goal, the execution of the war, still needs to be addressed.[234]
Before doing this a condition peculiar to the sea, and affecting the following discussion, must be briefly mentioned; that is, the difficulty of obtaining information. Armies pass through countries more or less inhabited by a stationary population, and they leave behind them traces of their march. Fleets move through a desert over which wanderers flit, but where they do not remain; and as the waters close behind them, an occasional waif from the decks may indicate their passage, but tells nothing of their course. The sail spoken by the pursuer may know nothing of the pursued, which yet passed the point of parley but a few days or hours before. Of late, careful study of the winds and currents of the ocean [522]has laid down certain advantageous routes, which will be habitually followed by a careful seaman, and afford some presumption as to his movements; but in 1778 the data for such precision were not collected, and even had they been, the quickest route must often have been abandoned for one of the many possible ones, in order to elude pursuit or lying-in-wait. In such a game of hide-and-seek the advantage is with the sought, and the great importance of watching the outlets of an enemy's country, of stopping the chase before it has got away into the silent desert, is at once evident. If for any reason such a watch there is impossible, the next best thing is, not attempting to watch routes which may not be taken, to get first to the enemy's destination and await him there; but this implies a knowledge of his intentions which may not always be obtainable. The action of Suffren, when pitted against Johnstone, was throughout strategically sound, both in his attack at Porto Praya and in the haste with which he made for their common destination; while the two failures of Rodney to intercept the convoys to Martinique in 1780 and 1782, though informed that they were coming, show the difficulty which attended lying-in-wait even when the point of arrival was known.
Before doing this, there's a specific challenge related to the sea that needs to be mentioned briefly, which will impact the following discussion: the difficulty of getting reliable information. Armies move through lands populated by stationary communities, leaving behind evidence of their passage. In contrast, fleets navigate through open waters where only transient travelers might pass through but don't stay. As the waters close behind them, the occasional piece of debris from the ships may hint at their journey, but it reveals nothing about their direction. A ship spotted by the pursuer may have no knowledge of the ship being pursued, even if it passed that same location just a few days or hours earlier. Recently, careful study of ocean winds and currents [522] has established certain beneficial routes that a diligent sailor will typically follow, providing some clues about their movements. However, in 1778, such precise data wasn't available, and even if it had been, the fastest route was often forsaken for one of many possibilities to avoid being followed or ambushed. In this game of hide-and-seek, the advantage lies with the one who is sought. It's clear how crucial it is to monitor the exits of an enemy's territory and to stop the chase before it slips away into the vast silence of the sea. If watching those exits is impossible for any reason, the next best strategy is to rush to the enemy's destination and wait for them there. However, this requires knowledge of their intentions, which isn't always easy to obtain. Suffren's actions against Johnstone were strategically sound throughout, both in his attack at Porto Praya and in his quick movement toward their mutual target. In contrast, Rodney's two failed attempts to intercept the convoys to Martinique in 1780 and 1782, despite knowing they were coming, highlight the difficulties of waiting even when the destination is known.
Of any maritime expedition two points only are fixed,—the point of departure and that of arrival. The latter may be unknown to the enemy; but up to the time of sailing, the presence of a certain force in a port, and the indications of a purpose soon to move, may be assumed to be known. It may be of moment to either belligerent to intercept such a movement; but it is more especially and universally necessary to the defence, because, of the many points at which he is open to attack, it may be impossible for him to know which is threatened; whereas the offence proceeds with full knowledge direct to his aim, if he can deceive his opponent. The importance of blocking such an expedition becomes yet more evident should it at any time be divided between two or more ports,—a condition which may easily arise when the facilities of a single dock-yard are insufficient to fit out so many [523]ships in the time allowed, or when, as in the present war, allied powers furnish separate contingents. To prevent the junction of these contingents is a matter of prime necessity, and nowhere can this be done so certainly as off the ports whence one or both is to sail. The defence, from its very name, is presumably the less strong, and is therefore the more bound to take advantage of such a source of weakness as the division of the enemy's force. Rodney in 1782 at Sta. Lucia, watching the French contingent at Martinique to prevent its union with the Spaniards at Cap Français, is an instance of correct strategic position; and had the islands been so placed as to put him between the French and their destination, instead of in their rear, nothing better could have been devised. As it was, he did the best thing possible under the circumstances.
In any maritime expedition, only two points are set: the starting point and the destination. The enemy might not know where the destination is, but up until sailing, they can assume that a certain force is present in a port and that there are signs of an imminent movement. It can be crucial for either side to intercept such a movement, but it is especially necessary for defense, because with many possible attack points, the defender may not know which one is under threat, while the attacker knows their objective clearly, provided they can trick their opponent. The need to block such an expedition becomes even clearer if it is split between two or more ports—this can easily happen if a single dockyard can't outfit enough ships in the time available, or, as in the current war, if allied powers send separate forces. Preventing these forces from coming together is essential, and the best place to do this is off the ports where one or both are set to sail. Defense, by its very nature, is generally weaker, so it needs to exploit any weaknesses, like the division of the enemy’s forces. An example of good strategic positioning is Rodney in 1782 at St. Lucia, monitoring the French forces at Martinique to stop them from joining the Spaniards at Cap Français. If the islands had been positioned to place him between the French and their destination instead of behind them, it would have been even better. As it was, he did the best he could under the circumstances.
The defence, being the weaker, cannot attempt to block all the ports where divisions of the enemy lie, without defeating his aim by being in inferior force before each. This would be to neglect the fundamental principles of war. If he correctly decide not to do this, but to collect a superior force before one or two points, it becomes necessary to decide which shall be thus guarded and which neglected,—a question involving the whole policy of the war after a full understanding of the main conditions, military, moral, and economic, in every quarter.
The defense, being the weaker side, can't try to block all the locations where enemy divisions are without risking defeat by facing fewer forces at each one. This would ignore the basic principles of war. If they decide not to do this and instead gather a stronger force at one or two key points, they need to determine which ones to protect and which to leave vulnerable—this is a question that involves the overall strategy of the war, requiring a thorough understanding of the main military, moral, and economic conditions in every region.
The defensive was necessarily accepted by England in 1778. It had been a maxim with the best English naval authorities of the preceding era, with Hawke and his contemporaries, that the British navy should be kept equal in numbers to the combined fleets of the Bourbon kingdoms,—a condition which, with the better quality of the personnel and the larger maritime population upon which it could draw, would have given a real superiority of force. This precaution, however, had not been observed during recent years. It is of no consequence to this discussion whether the failure was due to the inefficiency of the ministry, as was charged by their opponents, or to the misplaced economy often practised by representative [524]governments in time of peace. The fact remains that, notwithstanding the notorious probability of France and Spain joining in the war, the English navy was inferior in number to that of the allies. In what have been called the strategic features of the situation, the home bases, and the secondary bases abroad, the advantage upon the whole lay with her. Her positions, if not stronger in themselves, were at least better situated, geographically, for strategic effect; but in the second essential for war, the organized military force, or fleet, adequate to offensive operations, she had been allowed to become inferior. It only remained, therefore, to use this inferior force with such science and vigor as would frustrate the designs of the enemy, by getting first to sea, taking positions skilfully, anticipating their combinations by greater quickness of movement, harassing their communications with their objectives, and meeting the principal divisions of the enemy with superior forces.
The defensive stance was reluctantly accepted by England in 1778. It had been a rule among the best English naval leaders of the previous era, like Hawke and his contemporaries, that the British navy should match the combined fleets of the Bourbon kingdoms in numbers—a condition that, combined with the superior quality of the personnel and the larger maritime population they could draw upon, would have provided a real advantage in strength. However, this precaution had not been maintained in recent years. It doesn't matter for this discussion whether the failure was due to the incompetence of the ministry, as their opponents claimed, or to the misplaced frugality often shown by representative governments during peacetime. The fact remains that, despite the well-known likelihood of France and Spain joining the war, the English navy was outnumbered by the allies. In what have been termed the strategic aspects of the situation, the home bases and secondary bases abroad, the overall advantage rested with her. Her positions, while not necessarily stronger, were better located geographically for strategic purposes; however, in the second vital requirement for war, the organized military force, or fleet, capable of offensive operations, she had become inferior. Consequently, it was essential to use this smaller force with the skill and energy needed to thwart the enemy's plans by being the first to go to sea, positioning strategically, anticipating their movements with greater speed, disrupting their communications with their targets, and confronting the main divisions of the enemy with superior forces.
It is sufficiently clear that the maintenance of this war, everywhere except on the American continent, depended upon the mother-countries in Europe and upon open communication with them. The ultimate crushing of the Americans, too, not by direct military effort but by exhaustion, was probable, if England were left unmolested to strangle their commerce and industries with her overwhelming naval strength. This strength she could put forth against them, if relieved from the pressure of the allied navies; and relief would be obtained if she could gain over them a decided preponderance, not merely material but moral, such as she had twenty years later. In that case the allied courts, whose financial weakness was well known, must retire from a contest in which their main purpose of reducing England to an inferior position was already defeated. Such preponderance, however, could only be had by fighting; by showing that, despite inferiority in numbers, the skill of her seamen and the resources of her wealth enabled her government, by a wise use of these powers, to be actually superior at the decisive points of the war. It could never be had by distributing the [525]ships-of-the-line all over the world, exposing them to be beaten in detail while endeavoring to protect all the exposed points of the scattered empire.
It’s clear that the continuation of this war, everywhere except on the American continent, relied on the mother countries in Europe and clear communication with them. The total defeat of the Americans, not through direct military action but through exhaustion, was likely if England was allowed to freely choke their trade and industries with her superior naval power. She could deploy this power against them if relieved from the pressure of the allied navies; and relief would come if she could achieve a clear advantage over them, not just materially but morally, similar to what she had twenty years later. In that scenario, the allied nations, whose financial weaknesses were well-known, would have to back out of a fight where their main goal of diminishing England's status had already failed. However, this advantage could only be achieved through fighting; by demonstrating that, despite being outnumbered, the skill of her sailors and the resources of her wealth allowed her government to be truly superior at the critical points of the war. It could never be achieved by spreading the [525]ships-of-the-line around the globe, making them vulnerable to being defeated individually while trying to defend all the exposed parts of the sprawling empire.
The key of the situation was in Europe, and in Europe in the hostile dock-yards. If England were unable, as she proved to be, to raise up a continental war against France, then her one hope was to find and strike down the enemy's navy. Nowhere was it so certainly to be found as in its home ports; nowhere so easily met as immediately after leaving them. This dictated her policy in the Napoleonic wars, when the moral superiority of her navy was so established that she dared to oppose inferior forces to the combined dangers of the sea and of the more numerous and well-equipped ships lying quietly at anchor inside. By facing this double risk she obtained the double advantage of keeping the enemy under her eyes, and of sapping his efficiency by the easy life of port, while her own officers and seamen were hardened by the rigorous cruising into a perfect readiness for every call upon their energies. "We have no reason," proclaimed Admiral Villeneuve in 1805, echoing the words of the emperor, "to fear the sight of an English squadron. Their seventy-fours have not five hundred men on board; they are worn out by a two years' cruise."[235] A month later he wrote: "The Toulon squadron appeared very fine in the harbor, the crews well clothed and drilling well; but as soon as a storm came, all was changed. They were not drilled in storms."[236] "The emperor," said Nelson, "now finds, if emperors hear truth, that his fleet suffers more in a night than ours in one year.... These gentlemen are not used to the hurricanes, which we have braved for twenty-one months without losing mast or yard."[237] It must be admitted, however, that the strain was tremendous both on men and ships, and that many English officers found in the wear and tear an argument against keeping their fleets at sea off the enemy's coast. "Every [526]one of the blasts we endure," wrote Collingwood, "lessens the security of the country. The last cruise disabled five large ships and two more lately; several of them must be docked." "I have hardly known what a night of rest is these two months," wrote he again; "this incessant cruising seems to me beyond the powers of human nature. Calder is worn to a shadow, quite broken down, and I am told Graves is not much better."[1] The high professional opinion of Lord Howe was also adverse to the practice.
The core of the situation was in Europe, particularly in the hostile docks. If England couldn’t, as she showed she couldn’t, provoke a continental war against France, her only hope was to locate and take out the enemy's navy. It was most certainly found in its home ports; it was easiest to engage immediately after leaving them. This guided her strategy during the Napoleonic wars, when the moral superiority of her navy was so undeniable that she dared to send out smaller forces against the combined threats of the sea and the larger, better-equipped ships sitting safely at anchor. By confronting this dual risk, she gained the advantage of keeping the enemy in sight and weakening their effectiveness with their comfortable life in port, while her own officers and sailors were toughened by the demanding patrols, making them fully prepared for any challenge. "We have no reason," proclaimed Admiral Villeneuve in 1805, echoing the emperor's words, "to fear the sight of an English squadron. Their seventy-fours don't have five hundred men on board; they are exhausted from a two-year cruise."[235] A month later he wrote: "The Toulon squadron looked impressive in the harbor, the crews well-dressed and drilling properly; but once a storm hit, everything changed. They weren't trained for storms."[236] "The emperor," said Nelson, "now realizes, if emperors can handle the truth, that his fleet suffers more in one night than ours does in a year... These men are not accustomed to the storms we have faced for twenty-one months without losing a mast or yard."[237] However, it must be acknowledged that the strain was huge on both the men and the ships, and many English officers argued against keeping their fleets at sea near the enemy due to the wear and tear. "Every blast we endure," wrote Collingwood, "weakens the security of the country. The last cruise disabled five large ships and two more recently; several of them need to be docked." "I can barely remember what a restful night is these past two months," he wrote again; "this nonstop cruising seems beyond what human nature can handle. Calder is worn to a shadow, completely broken down, and I’ve heard Graves isn’t much better."[1] Lord Howe's high professional opinion was also against this practice.
Besides the exhaustion of men and ships, it must also be admitted that no blockade could be relied on certainly to check the exit of an enemy's fleet. Villeneuve escaped from Toulon, Missiessy from Rochefort. "I am here watching the French squadron in Rochefort," wrote Collingwood, "but feel that it is not practicable to prevent their sailing; and yet, if they should get by me, I should be exceedingly mortified.... The only thing that can prevent their sailing is the apprehension that they may get among us, as they cannot know exactly where we are."[238]
Besides the exhaustion of both the men and the ships, it's important to acknowledge that no blockade could reliably stop an enemy fleet from getting out. Villeneuve got away from Toulon, and Missiessy from Rochefort. "I'm here keeping an eye on the French squadron in Rochefort," Collingwood wrote, "but I feel it's not feasible to stop them from sailing; yet, if they manage to get past me, I'd be very upset.... The only thing that could stop them from sailing is their fear of running into us since they can't know exactly where we are."[238]
Nevertheless, the strain then was endured. The English fleets girdled the shores of France and Spain; losses were made good; ships were repaired; as one officer fell, or was worn out at his post, another took his place. The strict guard over Brest broke up the emperor's combinations; the watchfulness of Nelson, despite an unusual concurrence of difficulties, followed the Toulon fleet, from the moment of its starting, across the Atlantic and back to the shores of Europe. It was long before they came to blows, before strategy stepped aside and tactics completed the work at Trafalgar; but step by step and point by point the rugged but disciplined seamen, the rusty and battered but well-handled ships, blocked each move of their unpractised opponents. Disposed in force before each arsenal of the enemy, and linked together by chains of smaller vessels, they might fail now and again to check a raid, but they effectually stopped all grand combinations of the enemy's squadrons.
Still, the pressure at that time was endured. The English fleets surrounded the coasts of France and Spain; losses were compensated; ships were repaired; as one officer fell or got worn out at his post, another took over. The tight guard over Brest disrupted the emperor's plans; Nelson's vigilance, despite an unusual range of challenges, followed the Toulon fleet from the moment it set off, across the Atlantic and back to the shores of Europe. It took a long time before they engaged in battle, before strategy gave way to tactics and completed the task at Trafalgar; but step by step and point by point, the tough yet disciplined sailors, and the old and battered but well-handled ships, countered each move of their inexperienced opponents. Positioned in strength before each enemy arsenal and connected by chains of smaller vessels, they might occasionally fail to prevent a raid, but they effectively halted all major plans of the enemy's squadrons.
[527]The ships of 1805 were essentially the same as those of 1780. There had doubtless been progress and improvement; but the changes were in degree, not in kind. Not only so, but the fleets of twenty years earlier, under Hawke and his fellows, had dared the winters of the Bay of Biscay. "There is not in Hawke's correspondence," says his biographer, "the slightest indication that he himself doubted for a moment that it was not only possible, but his duty, to keep the sea, even through the storms of winter, and that he should soon be able to 'make downright work of it.'"[239] If it be urged that the condition of the French navy was better, the character and training of its officers higher, than in the days of Hawke and Nelson, the fact must be admitted; nevertheless, the admiralty could not long have been ignorant that the number of such officers was still so deficient as seriously to affect the quality of the deck service, and the lack of seamen so great as to necessitate filling up the complements with soldiers. As for the personnel of the Spanish navy, there is no reason to believe it better than fifteen years later, when Nelson, speaking of Spain giving certain ships to France, said, "I take it for granted not manned [by Spaniards], as that would be the readiest way to lose them again."
[527]The ships in 1805 were basically the same as those from 1780. There had certainly been some advancements and improvements; however, the changes were more about tweaks than a complete overhaul. Additionally, the fleets from twenty years earlier, under Hawke and his contemporaries, had faced the harsh winters of the Bay of Biscay. "There is no indication in Hawke's correspondence," says his biographer, "that he ever doubted for a moment that it was not only possible, but his responsibility, to stay at sea, even through the winter storms, and that he would soon be able to 'make downright work of it.'"[239] If it’s argued that the French navy was in better shape and that the officers' training and character had improved since the days of Hawke and Nelson, this is true; however, the admiralty must have known for some time that there were still not enough officers available, which seriously impacted the quality of deck service, and there was such a shortage of seamen that they had to fill the ranks with soldiers. Regarding the personnel of the Spanish navy, there is no reason to think it was any better than fifteen years later, when Nelson remarked on Spain giving certain ships to France, saying, "I assume they won’t be manned [by Spaniards], as that would be the quickest way to lose them again."
In truth, however, it is too evident to need much arguing, that the surest way for the weaker party to neutralize the enemy's ships was to watch them in their harbors and fight them if they started. The only serious objection to doing this, in Europe, was the violence of the weather off the coasts of France and Spain, especially during the long nights of winter. This brought with it not only risk of immediate disaster, which strong, well-managed ships would rarely undergo, but a continual strain which no skill could prevent, and which therefore called for a large reserve of ships to relieve those sent in for repairs, or to refresh the crews.
In reality, it's clear enough that the best way for the weaker side to counter the enemy's ships was to keep an eye on them in their harbors and engage if they set sail. The main drawback to this strategy in Europe was the harsh weather along the coasts of France and Spain, particularly during the long winter nights. This not only posed an immediate risk of disaster, which well-managed, sturdy ships would rarely face, but also created a constant strain that no skill could eliminate. As a result, a significant reserve of ships was needed to replace those sent for repairs or to give crews a break.
The problem would be greatly simplified if the blockading fleet could find a convenient anchorage on the flank of the route the enemy must take, as Nelson in 1804 and 1805 [528]used Maddalena Bay in Sardinia when watching the Toulon fleet,—a step to which he was further forced by the exceptionally bad condition of many of his ships. So Sir James Saumarez in 1800 even used Douarnenez Bay, on the French coast, only five miles from Brest, to anchor the in-shore squadron of the blockading force in heavy weather. The positions at Plymouth and Torbay cannot be considered perfectly satisfactory from this point of view; not being, like Maddalena Bay, on the flank of the enemy's route, but like Sta. Lucia, rather to its rear. Nevertheless, Hawke proved that diligence and well-managed ships could overcome this disadvantage, as Rodney also afterward showed on his less tempestuous station.
The problem would be much easier to deal with if the blockading fleet could find a good spot to anchor on the side of the route the enemy has to take, like Nelson did in 1804 and 1805 [528]when he used Maddalena Bay in Sardinia to keep an eye on the Toulon fleet—a move he had to make because many of his ships were in really poor condition. Similarly, Sir James Saumarez in 1800 even used Douarnenez Bay, just five miles from Brest on the French coast, to anchor the inshore squadron of the blockading force during bad weather. The positions at Plymouth and Torbay aren’t exactly ideal in this regard; they're not like Maddalena Bay, which is on the enemy’s route, but rather like Sta. Lucia, which is more behind it. Still, Hawke showed that hard work and well-managed ships could overcome this issue, as Rodney later demonstrated in his less stormy location.
In the use of the ships at its disposal, taking the war of 1778 as a whole, the English ministry kept their foreign detachments in America, and in the West and East Indies, equal to those of the enemy. At particular times, indeed, this was not so; but speaking generally of the assignment of ships, the statement is correct. In Europe, on the contrary, and in necessary consequence of the policy mentioned, the British fleet was habitually much inferior to that in the French and Spanish ports. It therefore could be used offensively only by great care, and through good fortune in meeting the enemy in detail; and even so an expensive victory, unless very decisive, entailed considerable risk from the consequent temporary disability of the ships engaged. It followed that the English home (or Channel) fleet, upon which depended also the communications with Gibraltar and the Mediterranean, was used very economically both as to battle and weather, and was confined to the defence of the home coast, or to operations against the enemy's communications.
In using the ships available to them during the overall conflict of 1778, the British government maintained a presence in America and the West and East Indies that was comparable to that of their enemies. At times, this wasn't the case, but generally speaking, this assessment holds true. In Europe, however, due to the aforementioned policy, the British fleet was consistently much smaller than those in the French and Spanish ports. As a result, they could only launch offensive actions with great caution and a bit of luck in engaging the enemy in smaller groups; even then, an expensive victory, unless very decisive, carried significant risks due to the temporary incapacitation of the ships involved. Thus, the British home (or Channel) fleet, which also relied on communication with Gibraltar and the Mediterranean, was used very conservatively in terms of battles and weather and was primarily focused on defending their coast or conducting operations against the enemy's supply lines.
India was so far distant that no exception can be taken to the policy there. Ships sent there went to stay, and could be neither reinforced nor recalled with a view to sudden emergencies. The field stood by itself. But Europe, North America, and the West Indies should have been looked upon as one large theatre of war, throughout which events were mutually [529]dependent, and whose different parts stood in close relations of greater or less importance, to which due attention should have been paid.
India was so far away that no objections could be made about the policy there. Ships sent there went to stay and couldn't be reinforced or recalled for sudden emergencies. The situation stood alone. But Europe, North America, and the West Indies should have been viewed as one large theater of war, where events were interconnected and the different regions were closely related in terms of varying importance, which should have been given proper attention.
Assuming that the navies, as the guardians of the communications, were the controlling factors in the war, and that the source, both of the navies and of those streams of supplies which are called communications, was in the mother-countries, and there centralized in the chief arsenals, two things follow: First, the main effort of the Power standing on the defensive, of Great Britain, should have been concentrated before those arsenals; and secondly, in order to such concentration, the lines of communication abroad should not have been needlessly extended, so as to increase beyond the strictest necessity the detachments to guard them. Closely connected with the last consideration is the duty of strengthening, by fortification and otherwise, the vital points to which the communications led, so that these points should not depend in any way upon the fleet for protection, but only for supplies and reinforcements, and those at reasonable intervals. Gibraltar, for instance, quite fulfilled these conditions, being practically impregnable, and storing supplies that lasted very long.
Assuming that the navies, as the protectors of communications, were the key players in the war, and that the origin of both the navies and the supply routes known as communications was in the home countries, centralized in the main arsenals, two things should be noted: First, the main focus of the defensive Power, Great Britain, should have been concentrated around those arsenals; and second, to achieve this focus, the lines of communication abroad should not have been unnecessarily extended, which would increase the detachments needed to guard them beyond what was strictly necessary. Closely related to this is the responsibility of reinforcing, through fortifications and other means, the critical points that the communications led to, so that these points would not rely on the fleet for protection, but only for supplies and reinforcements, and those at reasonable intervals. For example, Gibraltar met these conditions well, being practically unbeatable and storing supplies that lasted a long time.
If this reasoning be correct, the English dispositions on the American continent were very faulty. Holding Canada, with Halifax, New York, and Narragansett Bay, and with the line of the Hudson within their grip, it was in their power to isolate a large, perhaps decisive, part of the insurgent territory. New York and Narragansett Bay could have been made unassailable by a French fleet of that day, thus assuring the safety of the garrisons against attacks from the sea and minimizing the task of the navy; while the latter would find in them a secure refuge, in case an enemy's force eluded the watch of the English fleet before a European arsenal and appeared on the coast. Instead of this, these two ports were left weak, and would have fallen before a Nelson or a Farragut, while the army in New York was twice divided, first to the Chesapeake and afterward to [530]Georgia, neither part of the separated forces being strong enough for the work before it. The control of the sea was thus used in both cases to put the enemy between the divided portions of the English army, when the latter, undivided, had not been able to force its way over the ground thus interposed. As the communication between the two parts of the army depended wholly upon the sea, the duty of the navy was increased with the increased length of the lines of communication. The necessity of protecting the seaports and the lengthened lines of communication thus combined to augment the naval detachments in America, and to weaken proportionately the naval force at the decisive points in Europe. Thus also a direct consequence of the southern expedition was the hasty abandonment of Narragansett Bay, when D'Estaing appeared on the coast in 1779, because Clinton had not force enough to defend both it and New York.[240]
If this reasoning is correct, the English strategy on the American continent was quite flawed. By holding Canada, along with Halifax, New York, and Narragansett Bay, and controlling the Hudson River, they had the ability to cut off a significant, possibly decisive, portion of the rebel territory. New York and Narragansett Bay could have been made impenetrable by a French fleet of that time, ensuring the safety of the garrisons against naval attacks and easing the navy's workload; meanwhile, the navy would have found them a secure refuge if an enemy force managed to slip past the watch of the English fleet and appeared on the coast. Instead, these two ports were left vulnerable and could have easily fallen to a Nelson or a Farragut, while the army in New York was split in two, first going to the Chesapeake and then to [530]Georgia, with neither part of the divided forces being strong enough for the tasks ahead. The control of the sea was thus used to position the enemy between the split sections of the English army, whereas the undivided army had already struggled to advance through the intervening territory. Since communication between the two parts of the army relied entirely on the sea, the navy's responsibilities grew as the lines of communication expanded. The need to protect the seaports and the extended lines of communication ultimately led to an increase in naval forces in America, while simultaneously weakening the naval power at critical points in Europe. Consequently, one immediate result of the southern expedition was the hurried abandonment of Narragansett Bay when D'Estaing showed up on the coast in 1779, as Clinton did not have enough troops to defend both it and New York.[240]
In the West Indies the problem before the English government was not to subdue revolted territory, but to preserve the use of a number of small, fruitful islands; to keep possession of them itself, and to maintain their trade as free as possible from the depredations of the enemy. It need not be repeated that this demanded predominance at sea over both the enemy's fleets and single cruisers,—"commerce-destroyers," as the latter are now styled. As no vigilance can confine all these to their ports, the West Indian waters must be patrolled by British frigates and lighter vessels; but it would surely be better, if possible, to keep the French fleet away altogether than to hold it in check by a British fleet on the spot, of only equal force at any time, and liable to fall, as it often did, below equality. England, being confined to the defensive, [531]was always liable to loss when thus inferior. She actually did lose one by one, by sudden attack, most of her islands, and at different times had her fleet shut up under the batteries of a port; whereas the enemy, when he found himself inferior, was able to wait for reinforcements, knowing that he had nothing to fear while so waiting.[241]
In the West Indies, the issue for the English government wasn't about conquering revolted territories, but rather about maintaining control over several small, productive islands. They aimed to keep possession of these islands and ensure their trade remained as unrestricted as possible from enemy attacks. It's clear that this required naval superiority over both the enemy's fleets and individual cruisers—now called “commerce-destroyers.” Since no level of vigilance can keep all of these vessels in their ports, British frigates and smaller ships needed to patrol the waters of the West Indies. However, it would be much better, if feasible, to prevent the French fleet from entering altogether rather than just keeping it in check with a British fleet that was only equal in strength at any given time and frequently fell short of that. Being stuck in a defensive position, England was always at risk of loss when at a disadvantage. In fact, they did lose most of their islands one by one due to surprise attacks, and at times, their fleet was trapped under the guns of a port. Meanwhile, the enemy, when outmatched, could simply wait for reinforcements, knowing they had nothing to worry about while they waited. [531]
Nor was this embarrassment confined to the West Indies. The nearness of the islands to the American continent made it always possible for the offence to combine his fleets in the two quarters before the defence could be sure of his purpose; and although such combinations were controlled in some measure by well-understood conditions of weather and the seasons, the events of 1780 and 1781 show the perplexity felt from this cause by the ablest English admiral, whose dispositions, though faulty, but reflected the uncertainties of his mind. When to this embarrassment, which is common to the defensive in all cases, is added the care of the great British trade upon which the prosperity of the empire mainly depended, it must be conceded that the task of the British admiral in the West Indies was neither light nor simple.
The embarrassment wasn't limited to the West Indies. The proximity of the islands to the American continent always allowed the offensive forces to combine their fleets in both regions before the defensive forces could be certain of their intentions. While these combinations were somewhat managed by well-known weather patterns and seasons, the events of 1780 and 1781 highlight the confusion experienced by the most skilled English admiral, whose plans, although flawed, reflected the uncertainties he faced. When you add this challenge, which is typical for any defense, to the responsibility of overseeing the crucial British trade that the empire's prosperity heavily relied on, it's clear that the British admiral's job in the West Indies was anything but easy or straightforward.
In Europe, the safety of England herself and of Gibraltar was gravely imperilled by the absence of these large detachments in the Western Hemisphere, to which may also be attributed the loss of Minorca. When sixty-six allied ships-of-the-line confronted the thirty-five which alone England could collect, and drove them into their harbors, there was realized that mastery of the Channel which Napoleon claimed would make him beyond all doubt master of England. For thirty days, the thirty ships which formed the French contingent had cruised in the Bay of Biscay, awaiting the arrival of the tardy Spaniards; but they were not disturbed by the English fleet. Gibraltar was more than once brought within sight of starvation, through the failure of communications with [532]England; and its deliverance was due, not to the power of the English navy suitably disposed by its government, but to the skill of British officers and the inefficiency of the Spaniards. In the great final relief, Lord Howe's fleet numbered only thirty-four to the allied forty-nine.
In Europe, the safety of England and Gibraltar was seriously jeopardized by the lack of these large detachments in the Western Hemisphere, which also led to the loss of Minorca. When sixty-six allied ships-of-the-line faced the thirty-five that England could muster, forcing them into their harbors, it became clear that the Channel dominance Napoleon claimed would make him the undeniable master of England. For thirty days, the thirty ships in the French fleet cruised in the Bay of Biscay, waiting for the slow Spanish reinforcements; however, they faced no interruptions from the English fleet. Gibraltar was repeatedly on the brink of starvation due to the breakdown of communication with [532]England; and its rescue was not thanks to the effective deployment of the English navy by its government, but rather the expertise of British officers and the incompetence of the Spaniards. In the final major relief effort, Lord Howe's fleet only had thirty-four ships compared to the allied forty-nine.
Which, then, in the difficulties under which England labored, was the better course,—to allow the enemy free exit from his ports and endeavor to meet him by maintaining a sufficient naval force on each of the exposed stations, or to attempt to watch his arsenals at home, under all the difficulties of the situation, not with the vain hope of preventing every raid, or intercepting every convoy, but with the expectation of frustrating the greater combinations, and of following close at the heels of any large fleet that escaped? Such a watch must not be confounded with a blockade, a term frequently, but not quite accurately, applied to it. "I beg to inform your Lordship," wrote Nelson, "that the port of Toulon has never been blockaded by me; quite the reverse. Every opportunity has been offered the enemy to put to sea, for it is there we hope to realize the hopes and expectations of our country." "Nothing," he says again, "ever kept the French fleet in Toulon or Brest when they had a mind to come out;" and although the statement is somewhat exaggerated, it is true that the attempt to shut them up in port would have been hopeless. What Nelson expected by keeping near their ports, with enough lookout ships properly distributed, was to know when they sailed and what direction they took, intending, to use his own expression, to "follow them to the antipodes." "I am led to believe," he writes at another time, "that the Ferrol squadron of French ships will push for the Mediterranean. If it join that in Toulon, it will much outnumber us; but I shall never lose sight of them, and Pellew (commanding the English squadron off Ferrol) will soon be after them." So it happened often enough during that prolonged war that divisions of French ships escaped, through stress of weather, temporary absence of a blockading fleet, or misjudgment on the part of its commander; but the alarm was quickly given, [533]some of the many frigates caught sight of them, followed to detect their probable destination, passed the word from point to point and from fleet to fleet, and soon a division of equal force was after them, "to the antipodes" if need were. As, according to the traditional use of the French navy by French governments, their expeditions went not to fight the hostile fleet, but with "ulterior objects," the angry buzz and hot pursuit that immediately followed was far from conducive to an undisturbed and methodical execution of the programme laid down, even by a single division; while to great combinations, dependent upon uniting the divisions from different ports, they were absolutely fatal. The adventurous cruise of Bruix, leaving Brest with twenty-five ships-of-the-line in 1799, the rapidity with which the news spread, the stirring action and individual mistakes of the English, the frustration of the French projects[242] and the closeness of the pursuit,[243] the escape of Missiessy from Rochefort in 1805, of the divisions of Willaumez and Leissegues from Brest in 1806,—all these may be named, along with the great Trafalgar campaign, as affording interesting studies of a naval strategy following the lines here suggested; while the campaign of 1798, despite its brilliant ending at the Nile, may be cited as a case where failure nearly ensued, owing to the English having no force before Toulon when the expedition sailed, and to Nelson being insufficiently provided with frigates. The nine weeks' cruise of Ganteaume in the Mediterranean, in 1808, also illustrates the difficulty of controlling a fleet which has been permitted to get out, unwatched by a strong force, even in such narrow waters.
Which, then, given the challenges England faced, was the better approach—to let the enemy leave his ports freely and try to counter him by keeping a strong naval presence at each vulnerable location, or to try to monitor his arsenals at home, dealing with all the complications of the situation, not with the unrealistic hope of blocking every raid or intercepting every convoy, but with the aim of disrupting major operations and closely following any large fleet that got away? Such monitoring should not be confused with a blockade, a term often, but not entirely accurately, used to describe it. "I need to inform your Lordship," wrote Nelson, "that I have never blockaded the port of Toulon; quite the opposite. I've allowed the enemy every chance to go to sea, because that's where we hope to carry out the hopes and expectations of our country." "Nothing," he said again, "ever kept the French fleet in Toulon or Brest when they wanted to come out;" and although the claim is a bit exaggerated, it's true that trying to keep them locked in port would have been pointless. What Nelson hoped to achieve by staying close to their ports, with enough lookout ships strategically placed, was to know when they set sail and in what direction, planning, in his own words, to "follow them to the ends of the earth." "I believe," he wrote at another point, "that the Ferrol squadron of French ships will head for the Mediterranean. If they join the fleet in Toulon, they will greatly outnumber us; but I will never lose sight of them, and Pellew (commanding the English squadron off Ferrol) will soon chase after them." It often happened during that lengthy war that groups of French ships got away due to bad weather, the temporary absence of a blockading fleet, or misjudgments by its commander; but the alarm was raised quickly, [533]some of the many frigates spotted them, followed to determine their likely destination, communicated the information from point to point and from fleet to fleet, and soon a force of equal strength was pursuing them, "to the ends of the earth" if necessary. Since, according to the usual practice of the French navy by French governments, their missions were not aimed at confronting the enemy fleet but at achieving "ulterior objectives," the frantic chase and heated pursuit that followed made it far from easy to carry out the planned operations, even for a single division; while for larger combinations, reliant on merging divisions from different ports, it was utterly disastrous. The bold cruise of Bruix, leaving Brest with twenty-five ships-of-the-line in 1799, the speed with which the news circulated, the dynamic actions and individual errors of the English, the thwarting of the French's plans[242] and the closeness of the pursuit,[243] the escape of Missiessy from Rochefort in 1805, the divisions of Willaumez and Leissegues from Brest in 1806—all of these can be highlighted, along with the significant Trafalgar campaign, as providing compelling studies of a naval strategy following the patterns described here; while the campaign of 1798, despite its brilliant conclusion at the Nile, can be cited as an example where failure nearly occurred, due to the English having no force in front of Toulon when the expedition set sail, and Nelson being insufficiently supplied with frigates. The nine weeks' cruise of Ganteaume in the Mediterranean in 1808 also illustrates the challenge of managing a fleet that has been allowed to leave, without a strong force watching over it, even in such confined waters.
No parallel instances can be cited from the war of 1778, although the old monarchy did not cover the movements of [534]its fleets with the secrecy enforced by the stern military despotism of the Empire. In both epochs England stood on the defensive; but in the earlier war she gave up the first line of the defence, off the hostile ports, and tried to protect all parts of her scattered empire by dividing the fleet among them. It has been attempted to show the weakness of the one policy, while admitting the difficulties and dangers of the other. The latter aims at shortening and deciding the war by either shutting up or forcing battle upon the hostile navy, recognizing that this is the key of the situation, when the sea at once unites and separates the different parts of the theatre of war. It requires a navy equal in number and superior in efficiency, to which it assigns a limited field of action, narrowed to the conditions which admit of mutual support among the squadrons occupying it. Thus distributed, it relies upon skill and watchfulness to intercept or overtake any division of the enemy which gets to sea. It defends remote possessions and trade by offensive action against the fleet, in which it sees their real enemy and its own principal objective. Being near the home ports, the relief and renewal of ships needing repairs are accomplished with the least loss of time, while the demands upon the scantier resources of the bases abroad are lessened. The other policy, to be effective, calls for superior numbers, because the different divisions are too far apart for mutual support. Each must therefore be equal to any probable combination against it, which implies superiority everywhere to the force of the enemy actually opposed, as the latter may be unexpectedly reinforced. How impossible and dangerous such a defensive strategy is, when not superior in force, is shown by the frequent inferiority of the English abroad, as well as in Europe, despite the effort to be everywhere equal. Howe at New York in 1778, Byron at Grenada in 1779, Graves off the Chesapeake in 1781, Hood at Martinique in 1781 and at St. Kitt's in 1782, all were inferior, at the same time that the allied fleet in Europe overwhelmingly outnumbered the English. In consequence, unseaworthy ships were retained, to the danger of [535]their crews and their own increasing injury, rather than diminish the force by sending them home; for the deficiencies of the colonial dock-yards did not allow extensive repairs without crossing the Atlantic. As regards the comparative expense of the two strategies, the question is not only which would cost the more in the same time, but which would most tend to shorten the war by the effectiveness of its action.
No parallel examples can be found from the war of 1778, although the old monarchy didn’t keep the movements of its fleets under the same strict secrecy imposed by the harsh military rule of the Empire. In both periods, England was on the defensive; however, during the earlier war, she abandoned the first line of defense near enemy ports and attempted to protect her scattered empire by dispersing the fleet among them. It's been suggested that this first approach was weak, though it acknowledges the challenges and risks of the second. The latter seeks to shorten and resolve the war by either sealing off or forcing a battle with the enemy navy, recognizing that this is crucial since the sea both connects and separates different parts of the war zone. It requires a navy that is equal in size and superior in effectiveness, assigned to a limited area that allows for mutual support among the squadrons stationed there. In this setup, it relies on skill and vigilance to intercept or catch any enemy division that ventures out to sea. It protects far-off territories and trade through offensive action against the navy, which it identifies as the real threat and its main target. Being close to home ports ensures that repairs for ships needing maintenance can be done with minimal delay, while reducing the strain on the limited resources of overseas bases. The other strategy, to be effective, requires greater numbers since the various divisions are too far apart for mutual support. Each must be ready to face any potential threat on its own, which implies needing more strength everywhere than the enemy it faces, especially since the enemy could unexpectedly get reinforcements. The risks and impracticality of such a defensive strategy when not superior in strength is highlighted by the consistent inferiority of the English forces both abroad and in Europe, despite efforts to maintain equal strength everywhere. Howe in New York in 1778, Byron in Grenada in 1779, Graves off the Chesapeake in 1781, and Hood in Martinique in 1781 and at St. Kitt's in 1782 were all outmatched, while the allied fleet in Europe significantly outnumbered the English. As a result, unseaworthy ships were kept in service, putting their crews and the ships themselves at greater risk, rather than reducing strength by sending them home, as the colonial shipyards couldn’t handle extensive repairs without crossing the Atlantic. Regarding the cost comparison of the two strategies, the question is not just about which would be more expensive in the same timeframe, but which would be more effective in shortening the war through its actions.
The military policy of the allies is open to severer condemnation than that of England, by so much as the party assuming the offensive has by that very fact an advantage over the defensive. When the initial difficulty of combining their forces was overcome,—and it has been seen that at no time did Great Britain seriously embarrass their junction,—the allies had the choice open to them where, when, and how to strike with their superior numbers. How did they avail themselves of this recognized enormous advantage? By nibbling at the outskirts of the British Empire, and knocking their heads against the Rock of Gibraltar. The most serious military effort made by France, in sending to the United States a squadron and division of troops intended to be double the number of those which actually reached their destination, resulted, in little over a year, in opening the eyes of England to the hopelessness of the contest with the colonies and thus put an end to a diversion of her strength which had been most beneficial to her opponents. In the West Indies one petty island after another was reduced, generally in the absence of the English fleet, with an ease which showed how completely the whole question would have been solved by a decisive victory over that fleet; but the French, though favored with many opportunities, never sought to slip the knot by the simple method of attacking the force upon which all depended. Spain went her own way in the Floridas, and with an overwhelming force obtained successes of no military value. In Europe the plan adopted by the English government left its naval force hopelessly inferior in numbers year after year; yet the operations planned by the allies seem in [536]no case seriously to have contemplated the destruction of that force. In the crucial instance, when Derby's squadron of thirty sail-of-the-line was hemmed in the open roadstead of Torbay by the allied forty-nine, the conclusion of the council of war not to fight only epitomized the character of the action of the combined navies. To further embarrass their exertions in Europe, Spain, during long periods, obstinately persisted in tying down her fleet to the neighborhood of Gibraltar; but there was at no time practical recognition of the fact that a severe blow to the English navy in the Straits, or in the English Channel, or on the open sea, was the surest road to reduce the fortress, brought more than once within measurable distance of starvation.
The military strategy of the allies deserves more criticism than England's because the party on the offensive inherently has an edge over the defensive side. Once they overcame the initial challenge of combining their forces—and it’s clear that Great Britain never seriously hindered their unification—the allies had the flexibility to decide where, when, and how to strike with their larger numbers. How did they take advantage of this significant benefit? By nibbling at the edges of the British Empire and repeatedly failing against the Rock of Gibraltar. France's most serious military move was sending a squadron and a division of troops to the United States, meant to be double the number that actually arrived, which, within a year, opened England's eyes to the futility of the fight against the colonies and consequently ended a diversion of its forces that had been quite beneficial to its enemies. In the West Indies, one small island after another was taken, usually when the English fleet was absent, so easily that it demonstrated how effectively the whole issue could have been resolved with a decisive victory over that fleet. Yet, despite having many chances, the French never tried to untie the situation by simply attacking the force that was essential. Spain acted independently in the Floridas, achieving successes with a large force that held no real military value. In Europe, the plan adopted by the English government kept its naval force consistently underwhelming in numbers year after year; yet the operations proposed by the allies seem, in [536] no case to have seriously considered destroying that force. In a key situation, when Derby's squadron of thirty ships was trapped in the open bay of Torbay by the allied forty-nine, the war council's decision not to engage only summarized the nature of the actions of the combined navies. To complicate their efforts in Europe, Spain stubbornly insisted on keeping her fleet near Gibraltar for long periods; however, at no point was there a practical recognition that delivering a heavy blow to the English navy in the Straits, the English Channel, or at sea was the most reliable way to weaken the fortress, which had come within striking distance of starvation more than once.
In the conduct of their offensive war the allied courts suffered from the divergent counsels and jealousies which have hampered the movements of most naval coalitions. The conduct of Spain appears to have been selfish almost to disloyalty, that of France more faithful, and therefore also militarily sounder; for hearty co-operation and concerted action against a common objective, wisely chosen, would have better forwarded the objects of both. It must be admitted, too, that the indications point to inefficient administration and preparation on the part of the allies, of Spain especially; and that the quality of the personnel[244] was inferior to that of [537]England. Questions of preparation and administration, however, though of deep military interest and importance, are very different from the strategic plan or method adopted by the allied courts in selecting and attacking their objectives, and so compassing the objects of the war; and their examination would not only extend this discussion unreasonably, but would also obscure the strategic question by heaping up unnecessary details foreign to its subject.
In the course of their offensive war, the allied courts faced issues due to conflicting advice and jealousy, which often hinder naval coalitions. Spain's actions seemed almost selfish to the point of disloyalty, while France's approach appeared more loyal and, consequently, militarily more sensible. Better cooperation and coordinated efforts against a wisely chosen common goal would have been more effective for both sides. It's also clear that there were signs of poor administration and preparation among the allies, particularly from Spain, and that the quality of the personnel[244] was not as good as that of [537]England. However, issues of preparation and administration, while they are critical military matters, are quite different from the strategic plans or methods used by the allied courts in choosing and attacking their targets, which ultimately relate to the objectives of the war. Discussing these issues would not only make this discussion unnecessarily lengthy but also distract from the strategic question by adding irrelevant details.
As regards the strategic question, it may be said pithily that the phrase "ulterior objects" embodies the cardinal fault of the naval policy. Ulterior objects brought to nought the hopes of the allies, because, by fastening their eyes upon them, they thoughtlessly passed the road which led to them. Desire eagerly directed upon the ends in view—or rather upon the partial, though great, advantages which they constituted their ends—blinded them to the means by which alone they could be surely attained; hence, as the result of the war, everywhere failure to attain them. To quote again the summary before given, their object was "to avenge their respective injuries, and to put an end to that tyrannical empire which England claims to maintain upon the ocean." The revenge they had obtained was barren of benefit to themselves. They had, so that generation thought, injured England by liberating America; but they had not righted their wrongs in Gibraltar and Jamaica, the English fleet had not received any such treatment as would lessen its haughty self-reliance, the armed neutrality of the northern powers had been allowed to pass fruitlessly away, and the English empire over the seas soon became as tyrannical and more absolute than before.
Regarding the strategic issue, it can be summarized that the term "ulterior objects" highlights a major flaw in naval policy. These ulterior objects dashed the allies' hopes, as they fixated on them and carelessly ignored the path that could actually lead to success. Their strong desire focused on those aims—or rather on the significant partial gains they represented—blinded them to the means necessary for achieving those goals; thus, the outcome of the war was widespread failure to achieve them. To repeat the earlier summary, their aim was "to avenge their respective injuries, and to end that tyrannical empire that England claims to maintain on the ocean." The revenge they sought proved to be of no benefit to them. They believed they had hurt England by liberating America; however, they did not resolve their grievances in Gibraltar and Jamaica, the English fleet was not treated in a way that would diminish its arrogant self-assurance, the armed neutrality of the northern powers went unproductive, and the English empire over the seas soon became even more tyrannical and absolute than before.
Barring questions of preparation and administration, of the fighting quality of the allied fleets as compared with the English, and looking only to the indisputable fact of largely superior numbers, it must be noted as the supreme [538]factor in the military conduct of the war, that, while the allied powers were on the offensive and England on the defensive, the attitude of the allied fleets in presence of the English navy was habitually defensive. Neither in the greater strategic combinations, nor upon the battlefield, does there appear any serious purpose of using superior numbers to crush fractions of the enemy's fleet, to make the disparity of numbers yet greater, to put an end to the empire of the seas by the destruction of the organized force which sustained it. With the single brilliant exception of Suffren, the allied navies avoided or accepted action; they never imposed it. Yet so long as the English navy was permitted thus with impunity to range the seas, not only was there no security that it would not frustrate the ulterior objects of the campaign, as it did again and again, but there was always the possibility that by some happy chance it would, by winning an important victory, restore the balance of strength. That it did not do so is to be imputed as a fault to the English ministry; but if England was wrong in permitting her European fleet to fall so far below that of the allies, the latter were yet more to blame for their failure to profit by the mistake. The stronger party, assuming the offensive, cannot plead the perplexities which account for, though they do not justify, the undue dispersal of forces by the defence anxious about many points.
Aside from issues of preparation and management, and focusing solely on the undeniable fact of having significantly larger numbers, it’s crucial to highlight the main [538] factor in the military conduct of the war: while the allied powers were on the offensive and England was on the defensive, the allied fleets typically took a defensive stance in the presence of the English navy. In neither the major strategic plans nor on the battlefield did they show any serious intention to use their superior numbers to defeat parts of the enemy's fleet, to increase their advantage further, or to end England’s control of the seas by destroying the organized force that supported it. With the notable exception of Suffren, the allied navies either avoided action or accepted it; they never initiated it. As long as the English navy was allowed to operate freely at sea, not only was there no guarantee that it wouldn’t undermine the broader goals of the campaign—something it did repeatedly—but there was always the chance that it might, through some fortunate circumstance, win a significant victory and restore the balance of power. The fact that this did not happen can be attributed as a fault of the English government; however, if England was at fault for allowing her European fleet to fall so far behind that of the allies, the allies were even more blameworthy for not taking advantage of that mistake. The stronger side, taking the offensive, cannot excuse the confusion that leads to the excessive dispersal of forces due to the defensiveness worrying about multiple fronts.
The national bias of the French, which found expression in the line of action here again and for the last time criticised, appears to have been shared by both the government and the naval officers of the day. It is the key to the course of the French navy, and, in the opinion of the author, to its failure to achieve more substantial results to France from this war. It is instructive, as showing how strong a hold tradition has over the minds of men, that a body of highly accomplished and gallant seamen should have accepted, apparently without a murmur, so inferior a rôle for their noble profession. It carries also a warning, if these criticisms are correct, that current opinions and plausible impressions should always be [539]thoroughly tested; for if erroneous they work sure failure, and perhaps disaster.
The national bias of the French, which is being criticized here for the last time, seems to have been shared by both the government and the naval officers of that time. This bias is key to understanding the direction of the French navy and, in the author's view, its inability to achieve better outcomes for France from this war. It's interesting to see how deeply tradition affects people's thinking, as a group of highly skilled and brave sailors accepted such an inferior role for their noble profession without any complaint. It also serves as a cautionary note, if these criticisms are accurate, that current opinions and believable impressions should always be [539]thoroughly examined; because if they're wrong, they can lead to certain failure and potentially disaster.
There was such an impression largely held by French officers of that day, and yet more widely spread in the United States now, of the efficacy of commerce-destroying as a main reliance in war, especially when directed against a commercial country like Great Britain. "The surest means in my opinion," wrote a distinguished officer, Lamotte-Picquet, "to conquer the English is to attack them in their commerce." The harassment and distress caused to a country by serious interference with its commerce will be conceded by all. It is doubtless a most important secondary operation of naval war, and is not likely to be abandoned till war itself shall cease; but regarded as a primary and fundamental measure, sufficient in itself to crush an enemy, it is probably a delusion, and a most dangerous delusion, when presented in the fascinating garb of cheapness to the representatives of a people. Especially is it misleading when the nation against whom it is to be directed possesses, as Great Britain did and does, the two requisites of a strong sea power,—a wide-spread healthy commerce and a powerful navy. Where the revenues and industries of a country can be concentrated into a few treasure-ships, like the flota of Spanish galleons, the sinew of war may perhaps be cut by a stroke; but when its wealth is scattered in thousands of going and coming ships, when the roots of the system spread wide and far, and strike deep, it can stand many a cruel shock and lose many a goodly bough without the life being touched. Only by military command of the sea by prolonged control of the strategic centres of commerce, can such an attack be fatal;[245] and such control can be wrung [540]from a powerful navy only by fighting and overcoming it. For two hundred years England has been the great commercial nation of the world. More than any other her wealth has been intrusted to the sea in war as in peace; yet of all nations she has ever been most reluctant to concede the immunities of commerce and the rights of neutrals. Regarded not as a matter of right, but of policy, history has justified the refusal; and if she maintain her navy in full strength, the future will doubtless repeat the lesson of the past.
There was a strong belief among French officers of that time, and even more so in the United States today, about the effectiveness of disrupting trade as a primary strategy in war, especially against a commercial nation like Great Britain. "In my opinion," wrote a well-known officer, Lamotte-Picquet, "the best way to defeat the English is to target their commerce." The disruption and suffering caused to a country by serious interference with its trade is generally accepted. It is undoubtedly a significant secondary aspect of naval warfare, and it’s unlikely to be abandoned until war itself ends; however, when viewed as a primary and fundamental tactic capable of defeating an enemy on its own, it is likely a misconception, and a very dangerous one, especially when presented enticingly to the representatives of a nation. This approach is particularly misleading when the country it targets possesses, as Great Britain did and still does, the two pillars of strong sea power—an extensive, robust trade network and a formidable navy. When a nation's revenue and industries can be concentrated into a few treasure-ships, like the fleet of Spanish galleons, its war potential can possibly be diminished with a single hit; but when its wealth is dispersed across thousands of incoming and outgoing vessels, with roots that extend wide and deep, it can withstand significant damage and lose many valuable assets without being critically affected. Only through military control of the sea and sustained dominance over key trade hubs can such an assault be deadly; and that control can only be achieved by defeating a powerful navy. For two hundred years, England has been the leading commercial power in the world. More than any other nation, her wealth has been entrusted to the sea in both war and peace; yet she has consistently been the most unwilling to recognize the privileges of trade and the rights of neutral parties. When viewed not as a matter of rights but of policy, history has supported this refusal; and if she maintains her navy at full strength, the future will likely continue to reflect the lessons of the past.
The preliminaries of the peace between Great Britain and the allied courts, which brought to an end this great war, were signed at Versailles, January 20, 1783, an arrangement having been concluded between Great Britain and the American Commissioners two months before, by which the independence of the United States was conceded. This was the great outcome of the war. As between the European belligerents, Great Britain received back from France all the West India Islands she had lost, except Tobago, and gave up Sta. Lucia. The French stations in India were restored; and Trincomalee being in the possession of the enemy, England could not dispute its return to Holland, but she refused to cede Negapatam. To Spain, England surrendered the two Floridas and Minorca, the latter a serious loss had the naval power of Spain been sufficient to maintain possession of it; as it was, it again [541]fell into the hands of Great Britain in the next war. Some unimportant redistribution of trading-posts on the west coast of Africa was also made.
The preliminary agreements for peace between Great Britain and the allied countries, which ended this major war, were signed in Versailles on January 20, 1783. Two months prior, an arrangement had been made between Great Britain and the American Commissioners that recognized the independence of the United States. This was the significant outcome of the war. Regarding the European conflicts, Great Britain regained all the West Indian islands it had lost to France, except for Tobago, and ceded Saint Lucia. The French territories in India were restored, and since Trincomalee was held by the enemy, England couldn't contest its return to Holland, but it refused to give up Negapatam. To Spain, England handed over the two Floridas and Minorca, which was a significant loss if Spain had enough naval power to keep it; as it turned out, it fell back into British hands in the next war. There were also some minor changes in the trading posts on the west coast of Africa.
Trivial in themselves, there is but one comment that need be made upon these arrangements. In any coming war their permanency would depend wholly upon the balance of sea power, upon that empire of the seas concerning which nothing conclusive had been established by the war.
Trivial in themselves, there is only one comment that needs to be made about these arrangements. In any future war, their permanence would rely entirely on the balance of sea power, on that empire of the seas about which nothing definitive had been established by the war.
The definitive treaties of peace were signed at Versailles, September 3, 1783.
The final peace treaties were signed at Versailles on September 3, 1783.
FOOTNOTES:
[233] It may be said here in passing, that the key to the English possessions in what was then called West Florida was at Pensacola and Mobile, which depended upon Jamaica for support; the conditions of the country, of navigation, and of the general continental war forbidding assistance from the Atlantic. The English force, military and naval, at Jamaica was only adequate to the defence of the island and of trade, and could not afford sufficient relief to Florida. The capture of the latter and of the Bahamas was effected with little difficulty by overwhelming Spanish forces, as many as fifteen ships-of-the-line and seven thousand troops having been employed against Pensacola. These events will receive no other mention. Their only bearing upon the general war was the diversion of this imposing force from joint operations with the French, Spain here, as at Gibraltar, pursuing her own aims instead of concentrating upon the common enemy,—a policy as shortsighted as it was selfish.
[233] It's worth noting that the key to the English territories in what was then known as West Florida was at Pensacola and Mobile, which relied on Jamaica for support. The conditions of the land, navigation, and the overall continental war made it impossible to get help from the Atlantic. The military and naval forces in Jamaica were only enough to defend the island and trade, and couldn't provide enough relief to Florida. The capture of Florida and the Bahamas was carried out easily by overwhelming Spanish forces, with as many as fifteen ships-of-the-line and seven thousand troops deployed against Pensacola. These events won't be discussed further. Their only relevance to the overall war was diverting this significant force from working together with the French, with Spain, like at Gibraltar, pursuing its own interests rather than focusing on the common enemy—a strategy that was as shortsighted as it was selfish.
[234] In other words, having considered the objects for which the belligerents were at war and the proper objectives upon which their military efforts should have been directed to compass the objects, the discussion now considers how the military forces should have been handled; by what means and at what point the objective, being mobile, should have been assailed.
[234] In other words, after looking at the reasons the warring parties were fighting and the right goals their military actions should have focused on to achieve those reasons, the focus now shifts to how the military forces should have been managed; what methods should have been used and when the changing objective should have been attacked.
[236] Letter of Villeneuve, January, 1805.
[240] Of this Rodney said: "The evacuating Rhode Island was the most fatal measure that could possibly be adopted. It gave up the best and noblest harbor in America, from whence squadrons, in forty-eight hours, could blockade the three capital cities of America, namely, Boston, New York, and Philadelphia." The whole letter, private to the First Lord of the Admiralty, is worth reading. (Life of Rodney, vol. ii. p. 429.)
[240] Rodney remarked, "Evacuating Rhode Island was the most disastrous decision we could have made. It cost us the best and most valuable harbor in America, from which fleets could, in just forty-eight hours, block the three capital cities of America: Boston, New York, and Philadelphia." The entire letter, meant for the First Lord of the Admiralty, is definitely worth a read. (Life of Rodney, vol. ii. p. 429.)
[241] The loss of Sta. Lucia does not militate against this statement, being due to happy audacity and skill on the part of the English admiral, and the professional incapacity of the commander of the greatly superior French fleet.
[241] The loss of Sta. Lucia doesn’t contradict this statement; it was a result of boldness and skill from the English admiral and the unprofessional shortcomings of the commander of the much stronger French fleet.
[242] The plan of campaign traced by the Directory for Bruix became impossible of execution; the delay in the junction of the French and Spanish squadrons having permitted England to concentrate sixty ships in the Mediterranean.—Troude, vol. iii. p. 158.
[242] The campaign plan outlined by the Directory for Bruix couldn’t be carried out; the delay in the unification of the French and Spanish fleets allowed England to gather sixty ships in the Mediterranean.—Troude, vol. iii. p. 158.
[243] The combined squadrons of France and Spain, under Bruix, reached Brest on their return only twenty-four hours before Lord Keith, who had followed them from the Mediterranean. (James: Naval History of Great Britain.)
[243] The joint fleets of France and Spain, led by Bruix, arrived in Brest on their way back just twenty-four hours before Lord Keith, who had been pursuing them from the Mediterranean. (James: Naval History of Great Britain.)
[244] The high professional attainments of many of the French officers is not overlooked in this statement. The quality of the personnel was diluted by an inferior element, owing to the insufficient number of good men. "The personnel of our crews had been seriously affected by the events of the campaign of 1779. At the beginning of 1780 it was necessary either to disarm some ships, or to increase the proportion of soldiers entering into the composition of the crews. The minister adopted the latter alternative. New regiments, drawn from the land army, were put at the disposal of the navy. The corps of officers, far from numerous at the beginning of hostilities, had become completely inadequate. Rear-Admiral de Guichen met the greatest difficulty in forming the complements, both officers and crews, for his squadron. He took the sea, February 3, with ships 'badly manned,' as he wrote to the minister." (Chevalier: Hist. de la Marine Française, p. 184.) "During the last war [of 1778] we had met the greatest difficulty in supplying officers to our ships. If it had been easy to name admirals, commodores, and captains, it had been impossible to fill the vacancies caused by death, sickness, or promotion among officers of the rank of lieutenant and ensign." (Chevalier: Marine Française sous la République, p. 20.)
[244] The impressive qualifications of many French officers are acknowledged in this statement. The quality of the personnel was compromised by a lower standard due to the lack of good men. "The personnel of our crews had been significantly impacted by the events of the 1779 campaign. By early 1780, we either needed to disarm some ships or increase the number of soldiers in the crews. The minister chose the latter option. New regiments from the army were assigned to the navy. The officer corps, which had not been very large at the start of the conflict, had become completely insufficient. Rear-Admiral de Guichen faced great difficulty in assembling the necessary officers and crews for his squadron. He took to the sea on February 3 with ships that were 'badly manned,' as he informed the minister." (Chevalier: Hist. de la Marine Française, p. 184.) "During the last war [of 1778], we encountered significant challenges in supplying officers for our ships. While it was easy to appoint admirals, commodores, and captains, it was nearly impossible to fill the vacancies created by death, illness, or promotion among lieutenants and ensigns." (Chevalier: Marine Française sous la République, p. 20.)
[245] The vital centre of English commerce is in the waters surrounding the British Islands; and as the United Kingdom now depends largely upon external sources of food-supply, it follows that France is the nation most favourably situated to harass it by commerce-destroying, on account of her nearness and her possession of ports both on the Atlantic and the North Sea. From these issued the privateers which in the past preyed upon English shipping. The position is stronger now than formerly, Cherbourg presenting a good Channel port which France lacked in the old wars. On the other hand steam and railroads have made the ports on the northern coasts of the United Kingdom more available, and British shipping need not, as formerly, focus about the Channel.
[245] The key hub of English commerce is in the waters around the British Islands; and since the United Kingdom now relies heavily on imported food, it stands to reason that France is the country in the best position to disrupt it through destructive commerce due to its proximity and its ports on both the Atlantic and the North Sea. From these ports came the privateers that once targeted English shipping. The situation is now stronger than it was in the past, with Cherbourg offering a solid port in the Channel that France didn’t have during the old wars. On the flip side, steam power and railroads have made the ports on the northern coasts of the United Kingdom more accessible, so British shipping no longer needs to concentrate solely around the Channel.
Much importance has been attached to the captures made during the late summer manœuvres (1888) by cruisers in and near the English Channel. The United States must remember that such cruisers were near their home ports. Their line of coal-supply may have been two hundred miles; it would be a very different thing to maintain them in activity three thousand miles from home. The furnishing of coal, or of such facilities as cleaning the bottom or necessary repairs, in such a case, would be so unfriendly to Great Britain, that it may well be doubted if any neighboring neutral nation would allow them.
A lot of significance has been given to the captures made during the late summer maneuvers (1888) by cruisers in and around the English Channel. The United States should keep in mind that those cruisers were close to their home ports. Their coal supply line might have been two hundred miles, but keeping them operational three thousand miles from home would be a completely different story. Providing coal or services like cleaning the hull or making necessary repairs in that situation would likely be seen as unfriendly by Great Britain, and it's reasonable to doubt that any neighboring neutral country would permit it.
Commerce-destroying by independent cruisers depends upon wide dissemination of force. Commerce-destroying through control of a strategic centre by a great fleet depends upon concentration of force. Regarded as a primary, not as a secondary, operation, the former is condemned, the latter justified, by the experience of centuries.
Commerce disruption by independent cruisers relies on a broad distribution of force. Commerce disruption through the control of a strategic center by a large fleet relies on a concentration of force. When seen as a primary operation rather than a secondary one, the former is criticized, while the latter is validated by centuries of experience.
INDEX.ToC
- Alberoni, Cardinal, minister to Philip V. of Spain, 233;
- Anson, British Admiral, expedition to the Pacific, 261;
- captures a French squadron, 271.
- Arbuthnot, British Admiral, engagement with French fleet off the Chesapeake, 385-387.
- Armed Neutrality, the, of the Baltic powers, 405.
- Arnold, Benedict, treason of, 382;
- expedition to James River, 385.
- Barbadoes, strategic value of, 348, 393, 518;
- ineffectual attempt of the French against, 469.
- Barrington, British Admiral, energy of, 365;
- Battles, Land, Austerlitz, 24, 47;
- Battles, Naval (the list of the principal naval battles, with plans, will be found on pp. xxiii, xxiv),
- Actium, 13;
- Agosta, 165;
- Boscawen and De la Clue, 299;
- Byng off Minorca, 286,
- plan 265;
- Cape Passaro, 63, 237;
- Chesapeake. 372-374, 389, 391;
- Copenhagen, 361;
- La Hougue, 189-191,
- plan 183;
- Lepanto, 13, 50;
- Lowestoft, 108;
- Malaga, 110, 211, 229;
- Mobile, 287, 354, 355, 361;
- Navarino, 13 (note);
- New Orleans, 354-356;
- Nile, 10, 11, 80, 81, 358, 361, 366, 533;
- Pocock and D'Aché, 307-310,
- plan 162;
- Port Hudson, 355, 361;
- Rio de Janeiro, expedition against, 230;
- Rodney and Langara, 404, 500 (and note);
- Schoneveldt 152;
- Sta. Lucia, 366, 425, 478;
- St Vincent, 11, 356, 358, 476 (note),
- plan 146;
- Suffren and Hughes, fifth action, 463;
- Trafalgar, 9, 11, 12, 23 (note), 24, 47, 85, 353, 354, 357, 438;
- Vigo galleons, 207.
- Benbow, British Admiral,
- Bickerton, British Admiral,
- Blane, Sir Gilbert, physician to British fleet, letters of, 497, 499, 500(note), 501.
- Blockade,
- of French ports by English fleets, 23 (note), 30, 210, 296, 297, 383, 387, 402 (and note), 413, 525-527, 532, 533;
- of Southern coast of United States, 43, 44, 87 (note);
- Napoleon forces England to, 81;
- with consequent effect on American privateering, 137;
- definition of efficient, 85;
- dangers to United States from, 86, 87;
- offensive and defensive use of, 87 (note);
- declaration of the Armed Neutrality concerning, 405;
- position taken off an enemy's port not necessarily a blockade in strict sense of the word, 532.[544]
- Boscawen, British Admiral,
- Burgoyne, British General,
- Bussy, French General,
- Byng, Sir George, British Admiral,
- Byng, John, British Admiral,
- Byron, British Admiral,
- commander-in-chief at Battle of Grenada, 367-371.
- Cape of Good Hope,
- Carlos III.,
- King of the Two Sicilies, 248, 249;
- enters into Bourbon Family Compact, 249;
- forced to withdraw his troops by a British commodore, 252, 264, 304;
- succeeds to the Spanish throne, 304;
- enters into secret alliance with France, 312, 313;
- losses in Seven Years' War, 315, 317;
- again enters alliance with France against England, 401, 402.
- Charles, Archduke,
- claimant to Spanish throne as Carlos III., 206;
- lands at Lisbon, 208;
- lands in Catalonia and takes Barcelona, 213;
- takes and loses Madrid, 214;
- antipathy of Spaniards to, 214, 216;
- inherits empire of Austria and elected Emperor Charles VI. of Germany, 217;
- makes, as king of Spain, secret commercial treaty with England, 221;
- discontented with Treaty of Utrecht, 222, 234;
- renounces claim to Spanish throne, 235;
- joins Quadruple Alliance, 236;
- obtains Naples and Sicily, 239;
- loses Naples and Sicily, 248;
- dies, leaving no son, 262;
- succeeded by Maria Theresa, 262.
- Charles II., naval policy of, 60, 61;
- Choiseul, minister to Louis XV., 297;
- Clerk, John,
- Clinton, Sir Henry, British General,
- Clive, Robert, afterward Lord,
- Colbert
- Collingwood, British Admiral,
- Colonies:
- origin of, 27;
- character of, 28;
- effect on England of, 29, 82, 83, 255, 326-328, 392-394, 396, 414;
- weakness of Spain through, 30, 41, 42, 202, 261, 312, 327, 345, 346;
- effect of national character on, 55-58, 255, 256;
- growth of English colonial system, 60, 62, 64, 217, 220, 228, 251, 291, 305-307, 310, 321, 327;
- Colbert's policy, 70, 71, 106;
- navy essential to security of, 41, 42, 74, 75, 82, 329, 367, 373, 401, 416, 424, 434, 511, 529, 541;
- support to sea power by, 83, 212, 329, 415, 510, 511, 514, 520, 521;
- Dutch, 96, 97, 258;
- New York and New Jersey seized by English, 107, 132;
- loss of French colonies, 219, 291, 294, 295, 304, 314, 321, 322;
- loss of Spanish colonies, 219, 315-317, 321;
- French colonial policy, 242, 254, 255, 257, 258, 273-278, 282, 283, 306;
- Spanish colonial policy, 245-247, 250;
- colonial expansion the characteristic motive of the wars from 1739 to 1783, 254, 281-284, 291, 508-510;
- value of smaller West India islands, 256, 374, 512, 513;
- the English in India, 257, 282, 305, 307, 348, 349, 419, 420, 459;
- Vernon's and Anson's expedition against Spanish, 261;
- Florida and the Bahamas recovered by Spain, 517 (note).
- British North American, character of, 255, 283;
- extension over all the continent east of the Mississippi, 65, 321;
- quarrel with mother-country, 334, 341;
- military situation of, 341-344;
- alliance with France, 350;
- effect of sea power upon their struggle, 397, 524;
- object of, 507, 508;
- policy of France in their struggle, 359, 511, 512;
- distribution of colonial possessions at peace of 1783, 540.
- Commander-in-chief,
- Commerce,
- attempts to control by force, 1, 62, 63, 100, 101, 107, 245, 247;
- trade routes, 25, 32, 33, 37, 38, 141, 142;
- water carriage easier and cheaper than land, 25;
- advantages of rivers and inlets to, 25, 35, 36;
- secure seaports and a navy necessary to security of, 26-28, 74-76, 82, 83, 134, 135;
- the basis of a healthy navy, 28, 45, 46, 82;
- war upon (see commerce-destroying);
- influence of Baltic trade upon sea power, 32, 62, 239, 240, 405;
- effect of Central American Canal on, 33, 325;
- effect of physical conditions on, 36-39;
- decay of Spanish, 41, 50-52;
- effect of national character on, 50-55;
- solicitude of English government concerning, 60, 62, 63, 65, 66, 143, 206, 218, 220, 240, 241, 247, 269, 270;
- the Navigation Act, 60;
- influence of the wealth of England on history, 64, 187, 197, 216, 218, 227, 279, 295;
- commercial spirit of the Dutch, 49, 52, 55, 57, 68, 69, 98;
- Colbert's policy for developing, 70, 71, 101, 102, 105, 106, 169;
- decay of French, under Louis XIV., 73, 107, 167, 169, 170, 198, 199, 219, 226-228;
- improvement of French, under Louis XV., 74, 242, 243;
- government influence on, 70, 71, 82, 101, 105, 106;
- dangers to United States, by blockades, 84-87;
- commercial policy of United States, 84, 88;
- French, in 1660, 93;
- Dutch, in 1660, 95-97, 131;
- rivalry of English and Dutch, 100, 107;
- Leibnitz's proposition to Louis XIV. to seize Egypt, 141, 142;
- influence of Dutch wealth, 167, 176, 187, 197, 270, 279;
- sufferings of Dutch, 38, 160, 167, 168;
- gains to English, by policy of Louis XIV. 167, 170;
- effect of injury to, in hastening war, 176, 177;[546]
- bearing of, upon War of Spanish Succession, 201-204, 207, 209;
- Methuen Treaty of, with Portugal, 206, 228;
- concession to England of the Asiento, or slave trade, 217, 220, 245;
- growth of English, during eighteenth century, 220, 223-226, 228, 229, 233, 241, 245, 319, 323, 328;
- secret treaty of, made with England by claimant to Spanish throne, 221;
- decay of Dutch, in early part of eighteenth century, 69, 220-222, 224;
- English, contraband with Spanish America, 240, 241, 245-247;
- sufferings of, 1740-1748, 279, 280;
- sufferings of, 1756-1763, 311, 312, 317-319;
- prosperity of English commerce, 1756-1763, 297, 318, 319, 323;
- effect of commercial interests on the results at Yorktown, 392;
- great centre of English, 539 (note);
- policy of Great Britain as to neutral, 540.
- Commerce-Destroying (Cruising Warfare),
- a strategic question, 8;
- dependence on geographical position, 31;
- diffusion of effort, 31;
- disadvantageous position of United States, 31, 540 (note);
- Spanish treasure-ships, 41, 51, 207, 262, 313, 316;
- English and Dutch commerce defy, 51, 133, 134, 135, 206, 229, 297, 317, 318, 319, 539, 540;
- Charles II. resorts to it as a substitute for great fleets, 131;
- disastrous results, 132;
- discussion of, as a principal mode of warfare, 132-136;
- dependent upon a near base or upon powerful fleets, 132, 196, 230, 314;
- illustrations, 1652-1783, 133-136;
- injurious reaction on the nation relying upon it, 136;
- illustrations, 136-138;
- mistaken conclusions drawn from American privateering in 1812, and from the Confederate cruisers, 137, 138;
- effect of great navies, 138;
- illustrations, after battle of Solebay, 148;
- after battle of Texel, 154;
- decline of Dutch navy, 160,
- and consequent increase of commerce-destroying by French privateers, 167;
- in the war of 1689-1697, discussion, 193-196;
- in the war of 1702-1713, 228-230;
- in war of 1739-1748, 280;
- in Seven Years' War, 295, 297, 311, 314, 316, 317-319 (discussion), 329 (note);
- in American Revolution, 344, 382, 392, 400, 404, 408 (and note), 409, 443, 445, 452, 460, 530, 539, 540 (and note);
- French privateering, 133, 135, 167, 195, 196, 229, 280, 314, 317-319;
- peculiar character of French privateering, 1689-1713, 194-196, 229, 230.
- Conflans, French Admiral,
- Cornwallis, British General,
- Cornwallis, Captain British navy,
- gallant conduct in Hood's action at St. Christopher, 472.
- Corsica,
- Cromwell, Oliver,
- naval policy of, 60;
- issues Navigation Act, 60;
- condition of navy under, 60, 61, 101, 127;
- takes Jamaica, 60;
- takes Dunkirk, 105.
- D'Aché, French Commodore,
- De Barras, French Commodore,
- commands French squadron at Newport, and takes part in operations against Cornwallis, 389-392.
- De la Clue, French Commodore,
- D'Estaing, French Admiral,[547]
- transferred from the army to the navy, 371;
- long passage from Toulon to the Delaware, 359;
- fails to attack the British fleet in New York, 361;
- runs British batteries at Newport, 361;
- sails in pursuit of Howe's fleet, and receives injuries in a gale, 362;
- goes to Boston, 363;
- foiled by Howe on all points, 363, 364;
- goes to West Indies, 365;
- failure at Sta. Lucia, 366;
- capture of St. Vincent and Grenada, 367;
- action with Byron's fleet, 367-371;
- professional character, 371, 375;
- ineffectual assault on Savannah, 376;
- return to France, 376.
- D'Estrées, French Admiral,
- De Grasse, French Admiral,
- sails from Brest for West Indies, 383;
- partial action with Hood off Martinique, 383, 384;
- takes Tobago, and goes thence to San Domingo, 384;
- determines to go to Chesapeake Bay, 388;
- thoroughness of his action, 388, 392;
- anchors in Lynnhaven Bay, 388;
- skilful management when opposed by Graves, 389;
- share in results at Yorktown, 399;
- declines to remain longer in the United States, 400, 418, 469;
- return to West Indies, and expedition against St. Kitt's Island, 469;
- outgeneralled by Hood, 470-476;
- criticisms upon his actions, 392, 476-478, 483, 489, 494;
- return to Martinique, 479;
- in command of combined fleet in expedition against Jamaica, 479;
- sails from Martinique, 480;
- partial action of April 9, 1782, 481-483;
- battle of the Saints, 486-490;
- surrenders with his flag-ship, 489;
- later career and death, 501-503;
- findings of the court-martial on, 503.
- De Guichen, French Admiral,
- wary tactics of, 7, 413, 433;
- takes command in West Indies, 376;
- actions with Rodney, 378-381;
- returns to France, 381, 405;
- chief command of allied fleets in Europe, 407, 408;
- abortive action at Torbay, 408 (and note);
- injuries to convoy under his care, 408;
- Rodney's opinion of, 499;
- difficulty in manning his fleet, 536 (note).
- D'Orvilliers, French Admiral,
- De Rions, d'Albert, Captain in French navy,
- De Ternay, French Commodore,
- De Vaudreuil, French Commodore,
- Derby, British Admiral,
- Destouches, French Commodore,
- engagement with English fleet off the Chesapeake, 385-387.
- Douglas, Sir Charles, Captain British navy,
- Dubois, Cardinal,
- Duguay-Trouin, French privateer,
- expedition against Rio de Janeiro, 230.
- Dupleix,
- advances the power of France in India, 243;
- his ambition and policy, 258, 274, 282;
- problem before him in India, 275;
- foiled by lack of sea power, 276, 278;[548]
- quarrel with La Bourdonnais, 276;
- seizes Madras, 276;
- successful defence of Pondicherry, 277;
- extends his power in the peninsula, 282;
- is recalled to France, 282.
- Duquesne, French Admiral,
- compares French and Dutch officers, 129;
- commands at battle of Stromboli, 160-162;
- tactics of, 163-165;
- commands at battle of Agosta, 165.
- Egypt,
- Elliott, British General,
- commands at Gibraltar during the great siege, 411.
- England, See under Colonies, Commerce, Commerce-Destroying, Geographical Position, Government, Inhabitants, character and number of, Naval Policy, Naval Tactics, Sea Power, Strategy.
- Extent of Territory,
- its effect upon the sea power of a country, 42-44.
- Falkland Islands,
- dispute concerning, 335.
- Farragut, American Admiral,
- Fleuri, Cardinal,
- minister of Louis XV., 241;
- peace policy, 241, 243, 253;
- commercial expansion of France under, 242, 248;
- accord with Walpole, 241, 244, 252;
- policy, continental rather than maritime, 243, 244, 251, 253;
- supports claimant to Polish throne, 247;
- arranges Bourbon Family Compact with Spain, 244, 248;
- acquires Bar and Lorraine for France, 249;
- allows the navy to decay, 244, 249, 252, 253;
- death, 253.
- France.
- See under Colonies, Commerce, Commerce-Destroying, Geographical Position, Government, Inhabitants, character and number of Naval Policy, Naval Tactics, Sea-Power, Strategy.
- Frederick, King of Prussia,
- seizes Silesia, 262;
- Silesia ceded to, 278;
- opens Seven Years' War, 292;
- desperate struggle of, 295, 305;
- losses in the war, 324;
- results of the war to, 324;
- partition of Poland, 336.
- Gardiner's Bay, Long Island,
- Geographical Position,
- its effect upon the sea power of countries, 29-35.
- Gibraltar,
- Government,
- Graves, British Admiral,
- Graves, British Captain, afterward admiral,
- Great Britain. See England.
- Hannibal. See Second Punic War, 13-21.
- Havana,
- Hawke, Sir Edward, afterward Lord, British Admiral,
- Henry IV., of France,
- Herbert, British Admiral,
- commands allied English and Dutch fleets at battle of Beachy Head, 182.
- Holland. See under Colonies, Commerce, Commerce-Destroying,
- Geographical Position, Government, Inhabitants, character and number
- of, Naval Policy, Naval Tactics (Ruyter's), Sea Power, Strategy.
- Hood, Sir Samuel, afterward Lord, British Admiral,
- trait of subordination in, 356 (note);
- action with De Grasse off Martinique, 383;
- sent by Rodney to America with fourteen ships, 389, 390;
- second in command in action off Chesapeake, 391;
- temporary chief command in West Indies, 469;
- brilliant action at St. Christopher's Island, 470-476;
- junction with Rodney, 479;
- partial action of April 9, 1782, 481-483;
- at battle of the Saints, 486-490, 491-493;
- De Grasse's flag-ship strikes to his, 489;
- opinion as to Rodney's failure to pursue his advantage, 496;
- captures four French ships, 498;
- later career and death, 504.
- Hoste, Paul,
- Howe, Lord, British Admiral,
- Howe, Sir William, British General,
- Hughes, Sir Edward, British Admiral,
- arrives in India, 349;
- takes Negapatam and Trincomalee, 349;
- first meeting with Suffren, 427;
- task in India, 428;
- first battle with Suffren's squadron, 430-434;
- second battle with Suffren, 437-441;
- contemporary criticisms on, 442;
- third battle with Suffren, 446-448;
- tactics of, 431, 449, 453, 456, 462:
- slowness of, loses Trincomalee, 450, 451;
- fourth battle with Suffren, 453-455;
- praise bestowed by, upon his captains, 456;
- goes to Bombay from Coromandel coast, 458;
- returns to Madras, 461;
- supports English siege of Cuddalore, 462;
- fifth battle with Suffren, 463;
- abandons the field, 463;
- death, 467.
- Hyder Ali, Sultan of Mysore, 419;
- war upon the English, 420;
- denied the aid of the French squadron, 421;
- Suffren communicates with, 443;
- visited by Suffren, 450;
- negotiations of Suffren with, 459, 460;
- death of, 461.
- Inhabitants, character of,
- effect upon the sea power of a country, 50-58.
- Inhabitants, number of,
- effect upon the sea power of a country, reserve strength, 44-49.
- Italy,
- geographical position of, 32;
- physical conformation of, 39, 40;
- necessity for a navy, 40;
- Sicilian revolt against Spain, 1674, 159;
- Spanish possessions in, 1700, 201;
- Sardinia taken by allied fleets, 215;
- disposition of Spanish provinces in, at peace of 1713, 219;
- Sicily transferred to Austria, and Sardinia to House of Savoy, 1719, 239;
- Spanish expedition into, 248;
- foundation of Bourbon Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, 248;
- Spanish operations against Austria, 1741, 263, 264;
- King of Naples forced to withdraw troops from Spanish army by English fleet, 263;
- disposition of provinces of, at peace of 1748, 278;
- transfer of Corsica to France by Genoa, 292, 334;
- acquisition of Malta by England, 327.
- Jamaica,
- James II.,
- a seaman by profession, 61, 115;
- commands at battle of Lowestoft, as Duke of York, 109;
- commands at the battle of Solebay, 147;
- deprived of the command, 151;
- succeeds to the throne, 175;
- interest in the navy, 175, 177, 178;
- flight from England, 178;
- lands in Ireland, 179;
- defeated at the Boyne, 186;
- at Cape La Hougue, 188;
- death, 205.
- Jenkins,
- captain of a merchant brig, the story of his ears, 250.
- Jervis, Sir John, afterward Earl St. Vincent, British Admiral,
- Johnstone, British Commodore,
- sails for Cape of Good Hope, 421;
- commissioner to American Congress, 421 (note);
- attacked by Suffren at the Cape Verde Islands, 421-425;
- anticipated by Suffren at the Cape, 427;
- returns unsuccessful to England, 427.
- Kempenfeldt, British Admiral,
- Keppel, Lord, British Admiral,
- King, British Commodore,
- La Bourdonnais,
- L'Étenduère, French commodore,
- brilliant defence of, 272.
- Lafayette, Marquis de,
- La Galissonière, French Admiral,
- Lally, French governor of India,
- Langara, Spanish Admiral,
- Leibnitz,
- Louis XIV.,
- growth of French navy under, 72;
- enmity to Holland, 73;
- policy of, 73, 103-105, 140, 143, 205;
- naval policy of, 72, 74, 107, 133, 141-143, 155, 159, 166, 174, 178-181, 194-196;
- assumes personal government, 90;
- initiates general wars, 91;
- condition of France at accession of, 93;
- commercial policy of, 54, 105, 167, 169, 170, 176;
- aggressions of, 139, 173;
- declares war against Holland, 144;
- campaign in Holland, 149-151;
- evacuates Holland, 158;
- Sicilian episode, 159-166;
- peace with Holland, 168;
- declares war against Germany, 177;
- against Holland, 178;
- supports invasion of Ireland, 179-186;
- plans invasion of England, 188-191;
- concessions by, at peace of Ryswick, 197;
- effect of policy of, on sea-power, 198-200;
- accepts bequest of Spanish throne to his grandson, 203;
- reduced to extremities in War of Spanish Succession, 215, 216;
- humiliating concessions at peace of Utrecht, 219-221;
- exhaustion of France under, 227;[551]
- privateering under, 133, 134, 195, 230;
- death of, 232.
- Louis XV.,
- ascends throne, 232;
- condition of French commerce under, 74, 242-244, 279, 280, 311, 318;
- condition of French navy, 74-77, 244, 252-254, 259, 276, 279, 280, 288, 291, 311;
- restoration of the navy, 76, 331-333;
- defensive alliance with Spain, 248, 263-268;
- offensive alliance with Spain, 313, 333;
- death, 336.
- Louis XVI.,
- Louisburg, Cape Breton Island,
- strategic importance of, 28, 294, 328;
- retained by France at Peace of Utrecht, 219;
- taken by New England colonists, 269;
- restored to France at peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, 277;
- taken by Boscawen, 294.
- Madras,
- capital of a British presidency in India, 257;
- taken by French, 276;
- exchanged for Louisburg at peace of 1748, 277;
- besieged by French in 1759, 310;
- danger from Hyder Ali in 1780, 420;
- principal British naval station during the struggle, 1781-1783, 429, 437, 444, 450, 451;
- danger of roadstead, in northeast monsoon. 458, 518, 519.
- Mahrattas, the,
- Maria Theresa,
- Martinique, French West India Island,
- Matthews, British Admiral,
- Mazarin, Cardinal,
- Mediterranean Sea,
- control of, influence on Second Punic war, 14-21;
- strategic points in, 13, 20, 22, 23, 32, 62, 63, 82, 141, 142, 202, 203, 215, 220, 285, 298, 327, 328, 335, 393, 515;
- advantage of strategic study of, 33;
- analogy to Caribbean Sea, 33;
- increase of English power in, 206, 210, 212, 215, 219, 220, 229, 235, 239, 263, 322, 327, 328;
- Austria established in, 239;
- Sardinia given to House of Savoy, 239;
- foundation of Bourbon Kingdom of Two Sicilies, 248,
- strengthens France in, 249;
- English navy in, 193, 206, 208, 210-216, 263-268, 286-291, 296, 298, 412, 515, 532, 533;
- France acquires Corsica, 334, 335;
- England loses Minorca in American Revolution, 409, 540.
- Monk, British General and Admiral,
- Morogues, Bigot de,
- Napoleon I.,
- Naval Policy,
- value of reserve force, 48;
- colonial, 56,
- in peace, 82;
- in war, 82;
- soldiers commanding ships, 127;
- commerce-destroying and privateering (see Commerce-destroying) Bourbon Family compact, 248, 313;
- significance of the wars from 1739 to 1783, 254;[552]
- Dutch, 67-69, 95-99, 108, 109, 126, 174, 201-204, 217, 218, 222, 406;
- English, 59-67, 78, 100, 101, 105, 107, 131, 140, 143, 174, 175, 192-196, 201-204, 206, 224, 225, 229, 238-241, 244, 245, 264, 293, 326-328, 406, 417, 442, 451, 452, 505, 540;
- French, 29, 54, 69-81, 93, 104, 105-107, 166, 167-170, 177, 187, 197, 199, 212, 226, 238, 242-244, 252, 282, 287-290, 291, 309, 311, 322, 331-334, 337, 340, 359, 382, 408 (and note), 451, 452, 459, 460, 506, 510, 511;
- maritime inscription, 45;
- Leibnitz's proposition to Louis XIV., 141, 142;
- Italian, 39, 40;
- Spanish, 41, 51, 94, 156, 246, 312, 333, 348, 401, 407, 510, 517 (note), 535, 536;
- United States, 26, 33, 34, 38, 39, 42, 49, 83-88, 325, 326, 539, 540 (note).
- Naval Tactics,
- unsettled condition of modern, 2;
- qualities of galleys, steamers, and sailing-ships, 3-5;
- windward and leeward positions, 6,
- change of, from age to age, 9, 10, 22, 130, 506;
- fireships, 109, 110, 113, 114;
- torpedo-cruisers, 111;
- group formation, 112;
- close-hauled line-of-battle, 115;
- breaking the line, 124, 147, 265, 268, 286, 380, 381, 488, 491;
- refusing the van, 148, 152, 157, 183, 190, 266, 432, 434;
- concentration by defiling, 308, 387, 470, 492;
- concentration by doubling, 125, 147, 183, 272, 378, 379, 432, 433, 438-441;
- general chase with mêlée, 3, 4, 184, 237, 271, 299, 302, 303, 367-369, 404, 481, 482, 486;
- French, in eighteenth century, 79, 80, 114, 163, 164, 287-290, 338, 340, 351, 372, 383, 425, 426, 431, 474 (and note), 476, 478, 482, 483, 486-488, 494, 538;
- English, in eighteenth century, 127-129, 163, 211, 237, 265, 268, 271, 286, 287, 299, 303, 307, 350, 352, 369, 377-381, 386, 389, 391, 404, 412, 442, 447, 449, 453-455, 462, 463, 470-473, 476 (and note), 486-490;
- Monk's, 121;
- Ruyter's, 145, 147, 148, 152, 154, 157, 161;
- Duquesne's, 161-163, 165;
- Herbert's, 182;
- Tourville's, 182, 184, 185, 187, 189;
- Rooke's, 211;
- Byng's, 286;
- Hawke's, 271, 272, 303;
- Keppel's and D'Orvilliers, 351;
- Barrington's, 366;
- Byron's, 367-369;
- D'Estaing's, 369, 370;
- Rodney's, 377-379, 404, 488, 491;
- De Grasse's, 383, 389, 471-474, 481-483, 485-489;
- Arbuthnot and Destouches's, 386;
- Graves's, 389, 391;
- Suffren's, 425, 426, 432, 433, 439, 455, 465;
- Hood's, 472, 473;
- Clerk's work on, 77, 163, 211;
- Hoste's work on, 77;
- Morogues' work on, 77;
- position of commander-in-chief in battle, 353-358;
- effect on, of changes in naval material, 2-5, 9, 10, 22, 109, 116, 384 (note), 386 (note), 493-495.
- Navies, condition of:
- British, under Cromwell, 62;
- under Charles II., 61, 101;
- character of vessels, 1660, 101;
- qualities of officers, 1660, 126-129;
- decline of, under Charles II., 174;
- improvement of, by James II., 175;
- numbers in 1691, 187;
- deterioration under William III., 192;
- improvement under Anne, 209, 220, 224, 225, 229;
- numbers and condition of, in 1727, 1734, and 1744, 259, 260;
- inefficiency of officers, 1744, 265-269;
- numbers of, 1756-1763, 291;
- numbers of, in 1778, 337, 341;
- professional skill of officers in American Revolution, 379 (and note), 401, 412, 449, 456, 497;
- administration of, 417, 452, 523, 527.
- Dutch, prior to 1660, 68, 98, 99;
- French, 53;
- numbers in 1661, 70;
- numbers in 1666, 72;
- numbers, 1683-1690, 72, 178, 179, 180;
- administration of, 1660-1695, 72;
- condition of, at end of Louis XIV.'s reign, 74, 191;
- character of vessels in 1660, 101,
- professional qualities of officers in seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, 129, 161, 170-172, 185;[553]
- decay in number and condition, 1713-1760, 74-76, 209, 216, 244, 252, 259, 260, 279, 280, 288, 291, 311, 312;
- revival of, 1760, 76-78, 331;
- numbers of, in 1761 and 1770, 331;
- discipline during war of 1778, 332, 333;
- numbers in 1778, 45, 337;
- superior to British in size and batteries of ships, 338, 493, 494;
- professional skill of officers, 365, 412, 435, 436, 447, 457, 484, 497, 527, 536 (note);
- administration of, 402 (and note), 403, 452, 536, 537;
- numbers of, in 1791, 338;
- numbers of, in 1814, 81.
- Spanish, condition of, anterior to 1660, 41, 50, 94, 95;
- in 1675, 160, 165;
- restoration by Alberoni, 234;
- destruction of ships at Cape Passaro and of dock-yards, 237, 238;
- numbers of, 1747, 259;
- numbers of, 1756, 291;
- numbers of, in 1761, 331;
- numbers of, in 1779, 337;
- superior to British in size and batteries of ships, 338;
- administration of, 402 (and note), 403, 536;
- character of the personnel, 527.
- British, under Cromwell, 62;
- Nelson, Horatio, afterward Lord, British Admiral,
- tactics at the battle of the Nile, 10;
- Trafalgar campaign, 11, 23 (note), 527, 532, 533;
- tactics at Trafalgar, 12, 354, 459;
- enforces Navigation Act, 60, 251;
- orders at Trafalgar, 112, 434;
- at battle of Cape St. Vincent, 157, 355, 368;
- celebrated sayings of, 185, 362, 435, 525, 527, 532;
- attachment of subordinates to, 267;
- position assumed by him in battle, 353-358.
- Nile, Battle of the,
- Opdam, Dutch Admiral,
- Orleans, Philippe d',
- Regent of France during minority of Louis XV., 74, 232;
- insecurity of position, 232;
- concessions to England, 233;
- policy of, 235;
- alliance with England against Spain, 235-238;
- death, 241.
- Peace:
- Philip, Duke of Anjou, afterward Philip V. of Spain,
- Spanish throne bequeathed to, 202;
- war declared against, by England, Holland, and Germany, 205;
- loses Gibraltar, 210;
- besieges Gibraltar, 212;
- loses Barcelona and Catalonia, 213;
- driven from Madrid, 214;
- recovers all Spain, except Catalonia, 214;
- acknowledged King of Spain by Treaty of Utrecht, 219;
- deprived of Netherlands and Italian dependencies, 219;
- enmity to the regent Orleans, 232;
- seizes Sardinia, 235;
- attacks Sicily, 236;
- brought to terms by France and the Sea Powers, 239;
- makes alliance with the Emperor Charles VI., 244;
- attacks Gibraltar, 245.
- Physical Conformation,
- its effect upon the sea power of countries, 35-42.
- Pitt, William,
- dislike of George II. to, 270;
- becomes prime minister, 293;
- policy of, 295, 296;
- prosperity of commerce under, 297;
- offers to restore Gibraltar to Spain, 298;
- respect for Portuguese neutrality, 299, 300;
- declines mediation of Spain, 304;
- waning of his influence, 305;
- purposes war against Spain, 313;
- resigns his office, 313;
- his plans adopted by successors, 314, 317;
- opposes the peace of Paris, 322;
- effect of his policy on the history of England, 326.
- Pocock, British Admiral,
- Port Mahon and Minorca,[554]
- lost to Spain frequently through maritime weakness, 42, 215, 541;
- ceded to England in 1713, 62, 219;
- strategic importance of, 62, 220, 393, 515;
- French expedition against, 285;
- Byng defeated in his attempt to relieve, 286-288;
- surrender of, to France, 291;
- Pitt's offer to exchange Gibraltar for, 298;
- restored to England at peace of 1763, 322;
- taken from England in 1782, 407, 409;
- ceded to Spain in 1783, 540;
- again taken by England, 541.
- Portugal,
- decay in sea power and wealth, 52;
- cedes Bombay and Tangiers to England, 104;
- dependence on England, 105, 208, 315, 320, 321;
- Methuen treaty, 206;
- alliance with England and Holland, 1704, 208;
- advantage of, to England, 208, 213-215, 220, 228;
- French and Spaniards invade, 315, 316, 321;
- England repels the invasion, 316;
- benevolent neutrality of colonial ports to England, 520, 521.
- Ramatuelle,
- Rhode Island,
- Richelieu, Cardinal,
- Rochambeau, French General,
- Rodney, Sir George B., afterward Lord, British Admiral,
- commands squadron in reduction of Martinique, 314;
- commander-in-chief in West Indies, 377;
- takes or disperses a Spanish squadron, 377, 404, 500 (and note);
- personal and military character, 377, 378, 380, 397, 498-500;
- actions with De Guichen, 378-381;
- divides his fleet and goes to New York, 382;
- seizes Dutch West India islands, 382;
- sends Hood with fourteen ships to New York, and returns to England, 389;
- returns to West Indies, 479;
- sails in chase of De Grasse, 480;
- action of April 9, 1782, 481-483;
- battle of April 12, 1782, 485-490;
- criticism upon his tactics, 490-493;
- criticism upon his failure to pursue the beaten enemy, 496, 497;
- his successes, 500;
- rewards and death, 503;
- opinion as to evacuation of Rhode Island, 530 (note).
- Rooke, Sir George, British Admiral,
- Rupert, Prince,
- Russell, British Admiral,
- Ruyter, Dutch Admiral,
- greatest naval officer of seventeenth century, 117;
- commands at battle of the Four Days, 117-126;
- badly supported by his officers, 122, 126, 127;
- tactics of, 130, 144-148, 152, 157, 161, 164;
- destroys English shipping in the Thames, 132;
- strategy of, 144, 151, 152;
- commands at the battles of Solebay, 146,
- military character, 157;
- sent to Mediterranean with inadequate force, 160;
- commands at battle of Stromboli, 160-162;
- killed at battle of Agosta, 166.
- Sea Power,
- a history of conflicts, 1;
- elements of, 25.
- Affected by geographical position of countries, 29-35;
- by physical conformation, 35-42;
- by extent of territory, 42-44;[555]
- by number of population, 44-50;
- by national character, 50-58;
- by policy of government, 58.
- Policy of England as to, 58-67;
- policy of Holland, 67-69;
- of France, 69-81.
- Influence of colonies on, 82 (see also Colonies);
- weakness of the United States in, 83;
- dependent upon commerce, 87, 225 (see also Commerce);
- strategic bearing, 88 (see also Strategy);
- policy of Richelieu, 93;
- Spanish, in 1660, 94;
- Dutch, in 1660, 95;
- English, in 1860, 101;
- mistakes of Louis XIV., 104;
- Colbert's measures, 70, 105;
- effects of commerce-destroying on, 132, 179, 193, 229, 317, 344, 400, 408 (note), 539.
- (See also Commerce-destroying.)
- Influence of, upon Napoleon's expedition to Egypt, 10;
- upon Second Punic War, 14;
- upon Third Anglo-Dutch War, 148, 154;
- upon English Revolution, 177, 178, 180, 181, 191, 197;
- upon France, 198, 199;
- upon War of Spanish Succession, 203, 206, 209, 213, 214, 223-229;
- upon Alberoni's ambitions, 237, 239;
- upon Peter the Great, 239;
- in India, 243, 258, 273-278, 306, 309, 310, 316, 328, 349, 424, 428, 445, 452, 459-464, 466, 513, 520, 521;
- upon War of Austrian Succession, 263, 264, 279, 280;
- upon Seven Years' War, 291, 293-295, 304, 311, 314-317;
- upon Portugal, 320, 321;
- at Peace of Paris, 321;
- in remote and disordered countries, 324-326;
- upon British policy since 1763, 326-328.
- Washington's opinions as to, 397-400;
- American Revolution, 347, 468;
- influence of, upon conditions of peace, 1783, 498.
- Spain,
- geographical position, 32;
- results of maritime weakness of, 41, 42, 193, 313-317, 327, 345, 346, 541;
- dependence of finances upon treasure-ships, 41, 244, 313, 346, 539;
- effect of national character upon sea power, 50-52, 54;
- unity of aim with Austria, 91, 92;
- policy of Richelieu toward, 93;
- condition of, in 1660, 94, 95;
- condition of navy, in 1660, 94;
- aggressions of Louis XIV. on, 104, 139;
- failure of the Austrian line of kings, 140, 201, 202;
- alliance with Holland and Germany against France, 158;
- revolt of Sicily against, 159;
- territory lost at Peace of Nimeguen, 168;
- joins League of Augsburg, 176;
- dependence upon Dutch and English fleets, 193;
- possessions in year 1700, 201;
- throne of, bequeathed to Philip, Duke of Anjou, 202;
- war of the succession, 201-231;
- Bourbon line of kings established, 219;
- losses of territory at peace of 1713, 219;
- Alberoni's ministry in, 233-239;
- grievances against England, 1720-1739, 240, 241, 244-251;
- conquers the Two Sicilies in War of Polish Succession, 248;
- Family Compact with France, 248, 311, 313;
- war with England, 250;
- possessions in 1739, 256;
- Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, 278;
- lack of results from war with England, 278;
- enters Seven Years' War as the ally of France against England, 313;
- loss of colonies and treasures, 314-317;
- loss of possessions by Peace of Paris, 1763, 321, 322;
- political relations with France, 333;
- dispute with England over Falkland Islands, 335;
- objects in the war of 1779-1782, 347, 348, 509, 510, 513;
- rupture with England and alliance with France, 401;
- inefficiency of navy, 402 (and note), 407-409, 411, 412, 506, 527;
- policy in war of 1779, 517 (note), 535-538;
- territorial gains by peace of 1783.
- (See also Colonies, Commerce, Naval Policy.)
- Sta. Lucia, West India Island,
- taken by English, 314;
- ceded to France at Peace of Paris, 321;
- strong harbor and strategic position, 348, 366, 377, 393, 415, 513, 516, 518, 523;
- taken by Admiral Barrington, 348, 365, 366, 512, 531 (note);
- Rodney watches De Grasse from, 479, 480;
- an advanced strategic position, 518, 528;
- restored to France at peace of 1783, 540.
- Strategy,[556]
- permanence of its principles, 7-9, 88, 89;
- illustrations, 10-22;
- definition of naval, 22;
- Trafalgar campaign, 23 (note);
- bearing of geographical position on, 29-33;
- Mediterranean and Caribbean Seas, 33-35;
- bearing of physical conformation of coast on, 35-42;
- blockade of coast of Confederate States, 43, 44;
- value of commerce-destroying (see Commerce-destroying);
- word "defence" two distinct ideas, 87 (note);
- naval, of the British, 6, 9, 22, 24, 30, 118, 125, 136, 143, 182, 206, 208, 210, 212, 224, 229, 239, 260, 269, 284, 285, 296, 314-317, 320, 326-328, 339, 342, 343, 363, 375, 376, 385, 390-397, 412-417, 428-430, 468, 523-535;
- naval, of the Dutch, 144, 145, 151, 154;
- naval, of the French, 6, 12, 23 (note), 179-181, 191, 347, 371-374, 383, 388, 392, 401, 433, 459, 460, 476, 483, 535-539;
- features of War of Spanish Succession, 201-206;
- silent action of sea power, 209;
- general military situation, in 1740, 255;
- England in Seven Years' War, 296;
- mutual dependence of seaports and fleets, 31, 83, 132, 212, 329, 430, 453, 529;
- value of colonies, 27, 28, 65, 83, 135, 136, 510, 511;
- importance of coal, 31, 329 (note), 540 (note);
- military situation in America in 1777, 341-343;
- general strategic situation in 1778, 347-349;
- British difficulties in American Revolution, 392-397, 412-419, 522-533;
- Suffren's naval, 424, 425, 433, 450, 465;
- situation in India, 349, 428-430;
- Hood's naval, 476;
- Rodney's naval, 381, 392, 496-498, 523;
- influence of trade-winds and monsoons, 315, 458, 517, 518;
- elements essential to all naval wars, 514;
- difficulty of procuring information at sea, 521;
- general discussion of war of 1778, 505-540.
- (See also Naval Policy and Sea Power.)
- Suffren, French Admiral,
- criticism on D'Estaing's conduct at Sta. Lucia, 366, 426, 478;
- commands leading French ship in D'Estaing's battle off Grenada, 371;
- criticism on D'Estaing's conduct in the battle, 371;
- sails from Brest in company with De Grasse's fleet, 383, 421;
- parts company, off the Azores, for India, 383, 407, 421;
- orders to secure Cape of Good Hope, 421;
- action, with British squadron at the Cape Verde Islands, 422, 423;
- military discussion of his conduct, 423-425;
- arrival in India, 427;
- lack of seaports on which to base operations, 349, 429;
- first battle with squadron of Sir Edward Hughes, 430-432;
- tactics in the action, 432-435;
- estimate of the strategic situation in India, 424, 433, 444, 445, 464, 466;
- second battle with Hughes, 437-439;
- tactics in it, 439-441;
- strategic action, 443, 445, 446, 450-453, 458-460, 462-464, 466, 522;
- military character, 445, 446, 450, 456, 465, 466;
- third battle with Hughes, 446-448;
- takes Trincomalee, 450;
- activity of, 450, 451, 456, 462, 466;
- fourth battle with Hughes, 453-456;
- wreck of two of squadron, 457;
- goes to Sumatra, 460;
- returns to Trincomalee, 461;
- relieves Cuddalore besieged by the English, 462;
- fifth battle with Hughes, 463;
- conclusion of peace, 464;
- return to France, 465;
- rewards, 465;
- later career and death, 466.
- Tourville, French Admiral,
- commands at the battle of Beachy Head, 181;
- sluggish pursuit of the enemy, 184;
- military character, 185;
- celebrated cruise in 1691, 187;
- commands at battle of La Hougue, 189;
- tactics and brilliant defence at La Hougue, 190;
- destruction of French ships, 190;
- supports the army in Catalonia, 193;
- destroys or disperses a great English convoy, 194;
- death, 210.
- Trafalgar, Battle of,
- Trincomalee,[557]
- in Ceylon, Dutch influence in, 97;
- passes into the hands of the English, 349, 428;
- effect upon the contest in India, 349, 427 (note), 429, 430 (note), 433, 437, 442, 451, 453, 458, 462;
- strategic value of, 428, 429, 436, 444, 451, 458, 518, 519, 520;
- taken by Suffren, 450;
- restored to Holland at peace of 1783, 540.
- Two Sicilies, the,
- acquired by Austria, 239;
- foundation of Bourbon Kingdom of, 248;
- forced by British fleet to withdraw troops from Spanish army, 264, 304.
- United Provinces. See Holland.
- Vernon, British Admiral,
- takes Porto Bello, is repulsed from Cartagena and Santiago de Cuba, 261.
- Villeneuve, French Admiral, Trafalgar,
- Walpole, Sir Robert,
- prime minister of England, 239, 241;
- peace policy of, 241, 243, 244;
- naval demonstrations, 244;
- struggle with the war party in England, 247, 249, 250;
- neutrality causes Austria to lose the two Sicilies, 248;
- forced into war with Spain, 250;
- accord with Fleuri, 241, 243, 244;
- confidence betrayed by Fleuri, 248;
- driven from office, 253, 262;
- death, 253.
- War, Second Punic,
- influence of sea power upon, 13-21.
- Wars,
- American Revolution, 341—397;
- Anglo-Dutch, second, 107-132;
- Anglo-Dutch, third, England in alliance with France, 144-158;
- Austrian Succession, 262-277;
- France against Holland, Germany, and Spain, 1674-1678, 158-168;
- Great Britain against Spain, 250-277;
- League of Augsburg, 176-197;
- Maritime war of 1778, 350-540;
- Polish Succession, 247;
- Russia and Sweden, 231;
- Seven Years', 291-321;
- Spanish Succession, 1702-1713, 205-218.
- Washington, George,
- at Pittsburg and in Braddock's expedition, 284;
- opinion as to the line of the Hudson, 342 (note);
- comments on D'Estaing's cruise, 364 (note);
- despatches to De Grasse, 384;
- meeting with Rochambeau, 387;
- result of their deliberations, 388;
- marches from New York to Virginia, 389;
- opinions as to the influence of sea power on the American Revolution, 397-400.
- William III.,
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