V.

THE EARLY FRENCH WARS.

The accession of William of Orange and the French support of James soon brought about a war. Early in 1689 James invaded Ireland with French ships and men. He did sufficiently well there for a considerable English army to be employed against him, and in the summer of 1690, William himself went over to take command, leaving Queen Mary as Regent with little save the militia as military defence and a more or less unprepared fleet.

A Jacobite rising in England was planned. In conjunction with it the French proposed to hold the Channel in superior force to cover the landing of troops in England, and then, by a blockade in the Irish Channel, prevent the return of King William and his army. The attitude of the English fleet was uncertain--a strong Jacobite element being in it--and the scheme was generally a very promising one for the French.

A personal appeal from Queen Mary is said to have secured the allegiance of the English fleet: but in everything else the subsequent French failure was due only to luck and the wisdom of the British Admiral, Lord Torrington.

It was more or less realised that the French would concentrate at Brest. Squadrons were sent out to interfere with this, but convoys and the like bulked largely in their orders. There is not the remotest indication that the Home Government appreciated the danger, which ended in Torrington finding himself opposed by a greatly superior French fleet, which he was ordered to fight at all costs.

Therefrom ensued the battle of Beachy Head, a defeat and a “strategical retirement to the rear” for which Torrington was subsequently court-martialled and acquitted. He alone appears to have realised that his defeat would have meant the success of the French plans, while so long as he could avoid action the threat of his existence must interfere with invasion.

The French movements throughout were somewhat obscure. On the 25th June, according to Torrington, they might have attacked him but did not do so. When the battle took place on the 30th, it was Torrington who attacked. In the subsequent retreat, the French pursued for four days, but did so in line of battle and without much energy. They captured or destroyed five disabled ships, but of real following up of the victory there was none.

The Anglo-Dutch fleet took shelter at the Nore; but the French drew off at Dover, and sailing west attacked Teignmouth and then returned to Brest. Their failure to follow up and destroy Torrington has never been satisfactorily explained.

The panic which they had created in England bore early fruit. Thirty new ships were laid down. Of these seventeen were eighty-gun ships of 1000 tons, three were 1050 tons but carried seventy guns only, the remaining ten, sixty-gun ships of 900 tons.

In 1692 another Jacobite rising was planned, and a French army collected to assist it. Taught by the experience of Beachy Head the Anglo-Dutch fleet concentrated early. It consisted of no less than ninety-eight ships of the line,[18] besides frigates and auxiliaries, the whole being under command of Russell. A descent upon St. Malo was the principal objective contemplated.

Neither side appears to have had much conception of the intentions of the other. De Tourville, with a fleet of only fifty ships of the line, is supposed to have sailed under the impression that the Dutch had not joined up with the English.

In the fog of early morning on May 19th, he blundered into the entire Anglo-Dutch fleet off Cape La Hogue, and sustained a crushing defeat. At least twenty-one French ships of the line were lost in the battle itself or destroyed in the harbours they had escaped into.

Following upon this victory came a lull in operations. It would seem to have been the English idea that the French fleet, having been beaten and dispersed, all that remained to do was to get ready to defeat the new fleet that France was preparing, and so the year 1693 passed uneventfully, except that damage was done to trade on either side.

In July, 1694, the Allies made a move, bombarding Dieppe and Havre from a squadron of bombs which had been specially prepared. In September, Dunkirk received attention from a new war device called “smoak-boats”[19] the invention of one Meerlers, which did not inconvenience anyone very much. Meerlers also had “machine ships,” which likewise did no harm. These appear to have been an elementary idea on large scale of the modern torpedo--improved fire-ships.

A fleet was generally busy defending trade in the Mediterranean, where for the first time it was permanently stationed. Nothing in the way of fleet action was attempted by the French, and the next few years were spent in privateering on their part, and bombardments of ports which sheltered privateers on the part of the Allies.

English naval estimates in 1695 amounted to £2,382,172, and the House of Lords, in an address to the King, advocated an increase of the fleet on the grounds that it was essential to the nation that its fleets should always be superior to any possible enemy. A French invasion was projected in the winter months; but abandoned on the appearance of a fleet under Russell.

There is no question that in this war the French did more mischief with their privateers than with their fleet. English trade suffered very heavily; and there were continual complaints about the inability of the fleet to suppress the corsairs, a Parliamentary enquiry being eventually made into the matter.

The French privateers--“corsairs” is the more correct term--were in substance a species of naval militia, of a quite different status from English privateers sailing under letters of marque. They hailed principally from St. Malo; trading in peace time and preying on commerce in time of war. There were special regulations under which they were governed. The owner had to deposit a sum of about £600 with the Admiralty as security. He had to pay ten per cent. of the profits to the Admiralty and five per cent. to the Church. Two-thirds of the balance was his profit, the remaining third went to the crew. Often enough the privateer was a royal ship, let out for the purpose, and in the years following the battle of Cape La Hogue, most of the French frigates were on this service, with naval officers and men on board very often.

The privateers carried few guns, their object being to capture prizes, not to sink them. They sailed mostly in small squadrons, so making a considerable number of guns, and were rarely particular about using false colours. It was therefore comparatively easy for them successfully to attack weak convoys: some dealing with the warships and others making prizes; and the inefficiency laid to the blame of the English fleet in trade protection at that period was, in some measure, at any rate, due to a failure to appreciate the enormous difficulties. Duguay-Trouin himself records using the English flag to approach an English warship, and firing on her under these colours.

The unhandy warships of those days, faced with light enemies, which they could never overhaul, had a tremendous task set them. That the Navy of William III era successfully defended anything against men like Duguay-Trouin and Jean Bart, is of far more moment and more to be wondered at than any failures. In this particular war the fast lightly-armed corsair reached its apotheosis at the hands of veritable experts to a degree impossible to-day, or for that matter, ever hereafter, unless aircraft prove able to act as “privateers” of the future--a role which, to date, has been entirely forgotten in all discussions as to the value of aircraft.

[Illustration: ANTHONY DEANE.]

In 1697, the peace of Ryswick was signed. According to Burchett, the net result of the war was the loss of fifty English warships and fifty-nine French ones. The historians generally indicate that the French were worn out with the struggle; but on the whole the English seem to have been well out of the war also.

It was about this time that Peter the Great appeared in England, and engaged John Deane, brother of the famous naval architect, Sir Anthony, to go back to Russia with him to establish a navy. This is the first instance of the foundation or reorganisation of a foreign navy by this country. The experiment was by no means very successful; the bulk of the English naval officers taken over by Peter being men who, for various reasons, had been dismissed from the Royal Navy. Some proved incompetent, and all of them were quarrelsome.

_WAR OF THE SUCCESSION._

The war of the Spanish Succession synchronised with the accession of Queen Anne, in 1702. In the interval following the peace of Ryswick the French fleet had had considerable attention paid to it. The principal innovation consisted in increasing the size without (as hitherto) increasing the armament in ratio. The French three-deckers were now built of 2,000 tons instead of 1,500 as formerly. The superior sailing qualities, ever a feature of French ships, were still further enhanced.

In England, though shipbuilding had also been vigorously pursued, improvements commensurate with those of France were not made. English ships of the period were, generally speaking, overgunned.

At the outbreak of the war of the Succession, the fleet consisted of seven first-rate, fourteen second-rate, forty-five third, sixty-three fourth, thirty-six fifth, twenty-nine sixth, eight fire ships, thirteen bombs, and ten yachts--a total tonnage of 158,992; an increase of about a third in thirteen years. The first-rates were a new type of ship; the second-rates consisted of the old type first and second rates--the three deckers of ninety guns and special service eighty-gun two deckers. The third-rates were the staple battle type--two deckers of seventy guns on home service and mounting sixty-two guns when sent abroad. The fourth-rates carried nominally fifty guns and forty-four on foreign service.

One third of the naval power of Europe was English; France and Holland between them made up another third, the balance being represented by the rest of the Powers.[20] Though the phrase, “Two Power Standard,” was then unknown, the fleet, representing as it did the result of agitations in Parliament and elsewhere for suitable naval power, was clearly based on a similar general idea, and the Two Power Standard theory may be dated from the time of William of Orange.

The general idea of the campaign on the English side was combined naval and military attack on Ferrol--the fleet, consisting of fifty English and Dutch ships of the line and some frigates and transports to the number of 110, being under Sir George Rooke. The military element amounted to 12,000 troops under the Duke of Ormonde. Nothing came of the attempt owing to internal dissentions; and the expedition was on its way back when news was received of Chateau-Renault with a French-Spanish fleet of twenty-one warships at Vigo. A combined attack was delivered and the entire hostile fleet was sunk or captured without much loss, and a valuable convoy captured also.

In this year there also happened the greatest disgrace that ever befell the Royal Navy. Admiral Benbow, who had risen from the “Lower Deck,” was detached with six ships of the line to the West Indies, where he met a French squadron of five, under du-Casse. Two of his captains refused to engage the enemy altogether, and the others, save one, did so but half-heartedly. Benbow was mortally wounded and a French victory gained. On their return to England two of the captains were executed “for cowardice,” but timidity had actually nothing whatever to do with the business. It was purely and entirely an act of personal hostility. It is generally put down to Benbow’s lowly origin; but officers of the Benbow class were so plentiful, and Benbow had so long been in important positions afloat,[21] that the “obvious reason” played but a minor part. Benbow’s great defect was a lack of that “personality” of which in later years Nelson was the prime exponent. Coupled with this was the state of much of the Navy generally owing to Jacobite intrigues with those who were unable to forget their old allegiance to the Stuarts.

In 1703 very special orders were issued as to cutting down expenditure on non-essentials in ship construction. In this year the ornamental work so conspicuous in ships of the Stuart era was reduced almost to extinction.

The naval events were inconsiderable. A few French prizes were made, and it was found from these that the French theory of increasing dimensions without increasing the armament had reached such a stage that fifty-gun French ships were larger than sixty-gun English ones,[22] but it was not for some years that practical attention was directed to the point.

In 1704 there took place another of the combined naval and military operations peculiar to this war. This was to Lisbon and in connection with the Austrian Archduke Charles. It is mainly of interest because it led to the more or less accidental capture of Gibraltar, and in that it otherwise had much to do with the prevention of a junction of the French Brest and Toulon fleets which was destined to loom so largely in future history that to this day “junctions” remain a principal “idea” for naval manœuvres.

Sir George Rooke, who commanded the main fleet, had with him forty-eight ships of the line and details; Sir Cloudesley Shovell was in the channel with some twenty-two more.

The Brest fleet sailed for Toulon under the Count de Toulouse. They were chased without effect by Rooke, till near Toulon, when on the evening of May 29th, he gave up the pursuit as too risky, and returned to Lagos, where Shovell joined him on June 16th.

The combined English fleet being now assumed superior to the combined French fleet, attacks on Cadiz and Barcelona were contemplated, but as insufficient troops were available it was decided to attack Gibraltar instead. The motive for doing so does not appear to have been anything greater than that the King of Portugal and the Archduke Charles were worrying the fleet to “do something.” Gibraltar was suggested and settled on, apparently, as being as suitable as any other place.

Gibraltar lies at the end of a narrow peninsula. On this peninsula, on July 21st, 1,800 marines from the fleet landed under the Prince of Hesse. As they carried only eighteen rounds per man, the presumption is obvious that either little opposition was expected or else that the attack was merely delivered to satisfy those who had urged that something should be done. The former is generally assumed to be the case, but the latter is by no means improbable. In any case, the marines met with little opposition and demanded the surrender of the fortress, while some of the English ships, under Byng, were warped into bombarding positions under a mild fire from the forts. This occupied a whole day.

Early on the 23rd, fire was opened on both sides, and the inhabitants of the town fled to a chapel on the hill. The bombardment continued till noon, when the “cease fire” was ordered, so that results might be ascertained. It was found that some of the batteries were disabled, and it was then decided to land in the boats and capture them.

On the cessation of fire, the inhabitants, mostly women and priests, who had fled out of the town, began to come back. Sir Cloudesley Shovell (who was on board Byng’s flagship) ordered a gun to be fired across these; whereupon they all ran back to the chapel in which they had been sheltered. This gun was taken by the fleet generally to be a signal to re-open the bombardment. Under cover of this firing, the landing party got ashore, and had things much their own way till about a hundred of them were killed or wounded by the blowing up of the Castle.

At this they began to retreat, but reinforcements arriving, they retrieved the position and captured other works without difficulty, establishing themselves between the town and the chapel where the women had taken refuge. Giving this as his reason, the Governor capitulated next day. His entire garrison, according to Torrington’s Memoirs, consisted of but eighty men. The Anglo-Dutch force lost three officers and fifty-seven men killed, eight officers and 207 men wounded.

Thus the capture of Gibraltar, “the impregnable.” At Toulon, a large French fleet was getting ready for sea--a fleet quite large enough to have done to the English what Teggethoff, in 1866, did to the bombarding Italians at Lissa.

There seems little doubt that Rooke under-estimated his fleet. On the other hand, as he had look-outs, and the wind was not in the enemy’s favour, the risks he actually ran were trifling compared to those taken by Persano. From which many lessons have been deduced and morals drawn.

In actual fact, however, it is greatly to be doubted whether either commander thought round the matter at all. The “science” of naval warfare is a thing of quite modern origin, and the strategies displayed by most admirals in the past--if studied with an unbiassed mind--are just as likely to be luck as forethought. Analogous to this is Ruskin on the artist Turner. Turner painted wonderful pictures: Ruskin found wonderful meanings in them. These “meanings” were, however, more news to Turner than to anyone else!

On August 10th, the French fleet, reported as sixty-six sail, was sighted thirty miles off by a look-out ship. Rooke’s fleet at that time was short of five Dutch ships which he had sent away, twelve other ships were watering at Tetuan--miles away from him--and all the marines of the fleet were on shore at Gibraltar as garrison. The light craft were sent into Gibraltar to bring back half the marines as quickly as possible, while the main fleet retreated to pick up the Tetuan division, and later got its marines on board.

The French, meanwhile, either ignorant of the state of affairs, or else from general incompetence, made no attack at the time, and it was not till the 13th that battle was joined by the English bearing down on them. The resulting engagement was indecisive, and the fleets withdrew to repair damages. The French, however, declined to renew action, eventually retreated to Toulon, and never attempted a fleet action again during the war.

Rooke’s fleet consisted of fifty-three ships of the line. The French had fifty-two, of which they lost five.

Following the battle of Malaga, the marines were landed again at Gibraltar, together with some gunners and forty-eight guns. The fleet then returned to England, leaving at Lisbon a dozen ships under Sir John Leake--the only ships which, after survey, were considered not to be in urgent need of refit at home. This squadron was subsequently reinforced by eight ships of the line.

The French and Spaniards presently invested Gibraltar by land and sea. In the first attempt the blockading fleet was short of supplies and had to retire to Cadiz. Leake arrived, but finding nothing there returned to the Tagus.

The French then sent a light squadron to assist the siege, and the whole of those were surprised and captured by Leake, on October 29th, 1704. There is reason to believe that this action saved the fortress, as a grand assault was on the _tapis_.

Leake remained at Gibraltar three months, during which time stores and some 2,000 troops were brought in from England; then, the garrison being now in no straits, the English ships withdrew in January, 1705, to Lisbon to refit, leaving the land investment to proceed. In March, a squadron of fourteen French ships of the line appeared off Gibraltar, but owing to a gale only five got into the harbour. Here they were presently surprised and captured by the English. The remaining ships fled to Toulon and the siege was then raised--having lasted five months.

From these operations it is abundantly clear that the English had by now realised that Gibraltar was perfectly safe so long as its sea communications were kept open. De Pointis, the French Admiral, realised the same thing, and in the whole of the naval operations he appears to have been obeying, under protest, orders from the French Government, which at no time appears to have realised the futility of such operations in face of a superior Anglo-Dutch fleet.

Following the abandonment of the siege of Gibraltar, the French became very active with their corsairs, inflicting heavy losses on English trade. On the ultimate inutility of this _guerre de course_ much has been written; but perhaps hardly proper attention has been bestowed on the other side of the question. The French had small stomach for anything of the nature of a fleet action, and there is little or no reason to suppose that had they concentrated on line operations any success would have attended their efforts. Their _personnel_ was generally inferior. Their _materiel_ on the other hand was superior, and the problem really before them surely was, not which method, “grand battle” or _guerre de course_, was better, but how best to inflict damage with the means available. And here the _guerre de course_ held obvious promise.

In the summer of 1705, a combined land and sea attack was delivered on Barcelona, the Earl of Peterborough being in supreme command of both forces. The town surrendered on October 3rd. The history of Gibraltar was then repeated. The fleet withdrew, leaving Leake with a few ships to watch. The enemy then invested the place, which was relieved just in time by Leake so heavily reinforced that the French squadron made no attempt to fight him. A variety of other towns was then captured by combined attacks, also the Balearic Islands, except Minorca.

In 1706, combined operations on the north of France were arranged for, but ultimately abandoned owing to the weather. Ostend was captured in this year; but a combined attack on Toulon, in 1707, signally failed.

In 1708, the French attempted combined operations on Scotland and reached the Firth of Forth with twenty sail, but an English squadron under Byng arriving they sailed away again at once. The superior mobility of the French was evidenced by the fact that Byng’s pursuit resulted in nothing but the capture of an ex-English ship which could not keep up with her French-built consorts. The Anglo-Dutch combined operations of the year resulted in the capture of Minorca. Minor operations took place in the West Indies.

1709 passed mostly in the relief of places which had been acquired and were now besieged. In 1710, the French became more active, capturing one or two English warships and making a combined attempt against Sardinia. This last was frustrated by Sir John Norris. An English attempt on Cette in the same year proved a failure; but conspicuous success attended similar operations in Nova Scotia.

In the following years the principal of such operations as took place were on the American coast. Of these, the chief was an abortive attack on Quebec, mainly remarkable for an extraordinary escape of the entire English fleet one night in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. A military officer, one Captain Goddard, insisted that he saw breakers ahead. As no one would credit him he finally dragged the Admiral out of bed and up on deck, by which time the fleet was close on to the breakers. As things were, seven transports were wrecked and nearly a thousand soldiers drowned. The warships very narrowly escaped.[23]

This disaster led to the abandonment of the expedition. Peace was declared in 1713. The English loss in the war was thirty-eight ships, mounting 1,596 guns; the French lost fifty-two ships, mounting 3,094 guns.[24] A very large number of English ships became unserviceable during the war, because, despite the fact that many new ships were built and that the bulk of the ships lost by the French entered the English service, the entire navy diminished by twenty-five vessels.

Most of the ships were in poor condition, and in the early years of George I’s reign, large sums had to be expended on refits. Foul bilge water was the main cause of internal decay, and in 1715 organised steps were taken for the ventilation of the bilges. A certain increase in size for ships of all classes was also ordered, those of 100 guns being increased by 319 tons, and the eighty-gun ships by sixty-seven tons. This increase, however, by no means brought the tonnage to gun ratio down to the French limits, nor were the improvements in underwater form of much serious moment. The French maintained a superiority in this respect which they held till the present century. To-day, of course, the situation is completely reversed, and for any given horse-power any British ship is appreciably faster than a French one.[25]

Some special attention was also devoted to the preparation of timber for immediate use in shipbuilding. This subject was first drawn attention to in 1694, and the net result of the enquiries in 1715 did not really go much further. It was not till eleven years later that the problem was seriously grappled with.

In 1715, an English fleet under Norris was in the Baltic, acting against Sweden and allied with the Russians and Danes, Peter the Great himself being in chief command. Nothing of moment happened. These operations extended to 1719, when sides were changed.

In 1718, Spain, which had recently made some considerable efforts towards the creation of naval power, used her power for an attack on Sicily. Admiral Byng arriving with a superior English fleet, attacked and destroyed the greater part of the Spanish squadron in the Battle of Cape Passaro. No state of war existed. The Spaniards had attacked an English ally, and this was Byng’s only excuse for action. A few months later war was formally declared against Spain, and early in 1719 a curious replica of the Armada took place. Forty Spanish transports, escorted by merely five warships, sailed from Cadiz for the coast of Scotland; the idea being that the 5,000 troops which they carried should co-operate in a Jacobite rising. This “Armada” was dispersed by a severe gale off Cape Finisterre, and only a small fraction of it reached the coast of Ross, where a landing, easily defeated by the military, was made. It is noteworthy that no fleet met the expedition, and it was not till a month after its dispersal in a gale that Norris sailed to look for it.

The remainder of this particular war, which lasted only three years, was devoted to the re-conquest of Sicily and the capture of Vigo. Peace was concluded in 1721. In the course of this war the usual combined attack was made upon Gibraltar in 1720; but the arrival of an English fleet easily relieved the garrison.

At and about this time the Russian fleet, hitherto allies, became the enemy, and early in 1720 Admiral Norris was despatched to assist the Swedes against them. He appears to have done very little save squabble with the Swedish admiral as to precedence. In any case the Russians did much as they listed against the Swedish coast till Sweden had to sue for peace, and Russia became the predominant Baltic naval power. Her position as such was the more extraordinary in that the Russian fleet was technically very incompetent. The situation was mainly brought about by the personal genius of Peter the Great. His ships were generally the speedier, and he issued the strictest orders that no enemy was to be engaged unless at least one-third inferior in power. In the presence of an enemy the Swedes considered nothing,[26] the English comparatively little. The brain of Peter, was, therefore, an easy match for them, despite the technical inferiority of his _personnel_. This campaign is a most striking illustration of Alexander the Great’s maxim “that an army of sheep led by a lion is better than an army of lions led by a sheep.”

In 1726, an Anglo-Danish naval demonstration against Russia took place at Kronstadt, but nothing came of the incident, which was repeated equally ineffectually in the following year, when larger preparations were made.

In 1726, the preservation of ships’ timbers came once more on the _tapis_, when the results of some experiments, commenced six years before, were inspected. Up to about 1720, woods were prepared for use by a system known as “charring.” This consisted in building a fire one side of the plank and keeping the other side wet till the required condition was produced. One, Cumberland, invented a system known as “stoving.” By this, the wood was put into wet sand and then subjected to heat till the juices were extracted and the wood in suitable condition. A ship was planked with both systems, side by side, and on these being examined in 1726, it was found that while the “stoved” planks were in good condition the “charred” ones were already rotten.

A grateful country vaguely presented Cumberland with one tenth of whatever might be the saving which his system would produce. Cumberland, however, was equally vague, since he could supply no data as to the amount of heat or time of subjection, and experiments had to be carried out in the Yards in order to ascertain this. The authorities were apparently still ascertaining when one Boswell, of Deptford Yard, in 1736, hit upon using steam, and his system became at once general--though a few years later it was replaced by boiling the timber.

When George II came to the throne the country was at peace, but this peace was mainly and entirely secured by the policy of Walpole, who kept the Navy on a war footing. Feeling against Spain ran so high on account of the action of the _Guarda-Costas_ in searching English ships in the West Indies, that Walpole’s hands were forced in 1739. In the House of Commons, Captain Vernon announced that with six ships he could capture Porto Bello. Promoted to Rear Admiral, he essayed the task, and accomplished it, by coming into close range and landing under cover of a bombardment. His loss was trifling--nineteen killed and wounded, all told. The garrison turned out to have been only 300 strong, of whom forty surrendered. The rest had either been killed or had fled. It is to be observed that no state of war existed at the time.

War with Spain was declared in October, 1739. The English fleet in commission consisted of thirty-eight ships of the line, and there was a reserve of twenty-four ready for immediate service. There were also thirty-six minor vessels in commission and eight in reserve.

An interesting circumstance of this war was the whole-world scale on which naval operations were planned. In substance the scheme was as follows:--Admiral Vernon was to attack the east coast of Darien. Captain Cornwall was to round the Horn, attack the west coast of Darien and then go to the Philippines, where he was to meet Captain Anson, who was to voyage thither via the Cape of Good Hope. The scheme was not carried out in its entirety, as the Cape of Good Hope expedition never sailed, Anson being substituted for Cornwall.

Vernon, having been reinforced with a number of bombs and fire-ships, proceeded, in March, 1740, to attack Cartagena, which he bombarded for four days without much material result. Then he proceeded to Chagres, which, after a two days’ bombardment, surrendered to him. A considerable Spanish squadron being reported on its way out, and a French fleet (suspected of hostile designs) also sailing, Vernon withdrew to Jamaica, where he lay till reinforced by twenty ships under Ogle.

Ogle performed his voyage without adventure, except that six of his ships encountered a French squadron and fought it for some little time under the impression that a state of war existed. The error being discovered, the squadrons parted with mutual apologies.[27]

Ogle arrived in January, 1741. After a short refit the fleet sailed to look for the French and observe them. They presently learned that the French, short of men and provisions, had gone back to Europe. Upon receipt of this news it was decided to attack Cartagena.

Vernon had with him twenty-nine ships of the line, twenty-two lesser craft and a number of transports, carrying 12,000 troops. The seamen and marines of the fleet totalled 15,000. For a time some success was met with, but divided councils, mutual recrimination between Navy and Army, sickness in the troops, all did their share, and eventually the attack was abandoned.[28]

Attacks on other places led to no happier results, and while efforts were thus being frittered away in the West Indies, the commerce was suffering badly. Petitions from the commercial world to Parliament were of almost daily occurrence. Vernon requested to be recalled, and eventually was superseded, but his successor fared no better than he.

Meanwhile, we must turn aside for a moment to consider the operations of Anson. The following items in connection therewith are summarised from Barrow’s _Voyages and Discoveries_, published in 1765.

On arriving at Madeira, Anson, who had left England on the 13th of September, 1740, learned of a Spanish squadron, under Pizarro, lying in wait for him. This squadron, attempting to round the Horn ahead of Anson, encountered a furious gale, and was eventually driven back to Buenos Ayres, with only three ships left, and these reduced to the utmost extremities. A second attempt to round the Horn fared no better, and eventually Pizarro returned to Spain in his own ship, manned chiefly by English prisoners and some pressed Indians. These latter mutinied, but not being joined by the English prisoners, as they had hoped, were defeated.

Anson left Madeira on November 3rd, 1740, and shortly afterwards his crews fell sick, through lack of air, the ships being too deep for the lower ports to be opened. Anson had several ventilating holes cut. Then fever came, carrying off many. Just before Christmas he arrived at St. Catherine’s, Brazil, but his hopes of recruiting his men’s health were abortive. His own flagship, the _Centurion_, lost twenty-eight men dead and had ninety-six others on the sick list.

On January 18th, 1741, Anson sailed for the Horn. A gale scattered his squadron, one ship being separated for a month; eventually, however, all rejoined. There followed three months’ tempests rounding the Horn. Scurvy appeared, and the ships got separated again. Finally, on June 9th, the _Centurion_ alone reached Juan Fernandez, short of water and only about ten men fit for duty in a watch.

A few days later the _Tryal_ appeared at the island, her captain, lieutenant and three men being all who were available for service. A third ship, the _Gloucester_, appeared on June 21st, but so short-handed was she that, though assistance was sent her, it took her an entire fortnight to make harbour! On August 16th, the victualler ship, _Anna Pink_, arrived, all her crew in good condition, she having put into some harbour en route. Of the other three ships, two (the _Severn_ and _Pearl_), failed to round the Horn and returned to Brazil; the third, the _Wager_, was wrecked.

In September, a sail was sighted. The _Centurion_ put to sea and found her to be a Spanish merchant ship. From the prisoners it was learned that a Spanish squadron from Chili had been on the look out for Anson, that a ship had been lying off Juan Fernandez till just before his arrival, but that assuming him lost they had now all gone back to Valparaiso.

Thereafter several prizes were taken, one being fitted out to replace the _Tryal_, which was abandoned. The _Anna Pink_ had also had to be abandoned as useless.

Now began the most extraordinary part of the enterprise. Treasure ships were captured, thirty-eight men landed, held up and captured Payta, a good half of these attired in feminine costume, which they found in houses wherein they had sought substitutes for their rags--only one man drunk in all the sack of the town--the terror of prisoners, who, when released, refused to accept liberty till they had thanked Anson for his courtesy--Anson’s insistence on treasure being divided equally between those who attacked and those who kept ship, while giving his own share to the attackers--the night chase of a supposed galleon which turned out to be but a fire on shore--the fearful sufferings of boats’ crews sent out to look for the treasure ship[29]--the release of prisoners, and the Spanish reply thereto by the despatch of luxuries to the English--the final loss of the _Gloucester_, worn out by keeping the sea--the arrival at Guam of the _Centurion_ with only seventy-one men capable of “standing at a gun” under even any emergencies--these things belong to special histories. Here it suffices to give but a general outline, of which the first event is that having reached Macao and refitted, Anson went into the Pacific again, and, having given his men considerable training in marksmanship and gun-handling, finally intercepted and captured the Spanish treasure ship that he sought.

On his subsequent return to China with his prize, the experiences of “Mr. Anson” (as he is generally called throughout the history from which I quote) were mainly of a personal nature. Visited by a mandarin who showed a liking for wine, Anson had to plead illness and delegate his duties of glass for glass to the most robust officer he had. He provisioned by weight with ducks (found to be filled with stones to make them heavier) and pigs filled with water. Ultimately he had to go up to Canton with (so far as I can ascertain) the first instance of a crew in regular uniform. To quote from the entertaining contemporary narrative:--

“Towards the end of September, the commodore finding that he was deceived by those who had contracted to supply him with sea provisions; and that the viceroy had not, according to his promise, invited him to an interview, found it impossible to surmount the difficulty he was under, without going to Canton and visiting the viceroy. He, therefore, prepared for this expedition: the boat’s crew were clothed, in a uniform dress, resembling that of the water-men of the Thames. There were in number eighteen, and a coxswain; they had scarlet jackets, and blue silk waistcoats, the whole trimmed with silver buttons, and had also silver badges on their jackets and caps.”

Leaving Macao, the _Centurion_ reached the Cape of Good Hope on the 11th of March, 1744. From here, signing on forty Dutchmen, Anson proceeded home.

So ended the most prodigious oversea combined enterprise ever before attempted. Anson was not the first to circumnavigate the world, but few had done so before him, and on that account the real purpose of his expedition has been generally overlooked in the circumnavigation feat.

As ever in British naval history luck was with him; but something more than “luck” must have been in an enterprise where Pizarro, sent to intercept him, gave up, while Anson fought through the perils of Cape Horn, with his sickly crews and crazy ships.

To resume the general history of the war. In October, 1742, the _Victory_ (100) was lost, presumably on the Caskets, though her actual fate was never ascertained. France had now entered into the war; her fleet consisted of forty-five ships of the line; the corresponding English fleet totalling ninety ships of the line.

In 1742, Ogle succeeded Vernon in the West Indies, and a series of small bombardments resulted, usually without success.

Formal hostilities with France (delayed as was the custom of the time) were declared in 1744, and outlying possessions changed hands. Anson, in command of the Channel Fleet in 1747, defeated and captured the Brest fleet, and some minor actions took place, mostly in connection with convoys. The war ended in 1748; its net naval results being as follows:--

ENGLISH. SPANISH. FRENCH. Warships lost or captured 49 24 56 Merchant ships captured 3,238 1,249 2,185

The economy order referred to on a previous page was possibly in part responsible for the bad showing made by the English as warships in this war. In any case the standardisation of classes had disappeared, and no two ships were of the same dimensions. Many ships were found so weak at sea that they had to be shored up between decks,[30] and of all the complaint was continual that they were very “crank” and unable to open their lee ports in weather in which foreign ships could do so. The seamanship, however, was of a high order compared to that of either the French or Spaniards; possibly the very badness of the English ships helped to make the seamanship what it was.

After the war many constructional improvements were suggested and some few of them carried into practice. Among the prizes of the war was a Spanish ship, the _Princessa_ of seventy guns, which attracted general admiration. In 1746, a glorified copy of her, the _Royal George_, was laid down.[31] At and about this time an era of slow shipbuilding set in; for example, this _Royal George_ was ten years on the stocks. The slow building was part and parcel of the naval policy of the period, and in no way to be connected with what any such tardiness would mean to-day.

A ship on the stocks was more easily preserved from decay than one in the water. With precisely the same idea the authorities at the end of the war disbanded the bulk of the _personnel_. Upon a war appearing likely, the press-gang was always available to supplement any deficiency in the rank and file not filled by allowing jail-birds to volunteer.

Officering the fleet was a less easy matter. The choice lay between retired officers more or less rusty, and the best of the “prime seamen,” who had been afloat in such warships as were retained in commission. The Admiralty selected its officers from both indiscriminately. There is this much, but no more, warrant for the idea that in the old days the sailor from forward could rise to the highest ranks, while to-day he cannot do so. The fact is correct enough, but the circumstance had nothing to do with inducements and encouragements. Once on the quarter deck the tarpaulin seaman, if he had it in him, might win his way to high rank and fame, as did Benbow, Sir John Balchen, Captain Cook, and several others. But he obtained his footing on entirely utilitarian grounds which passed away when a more regular system of _personnel_ came into custom.

In the year 1753, a Dr. Hales was instrumental in one of the greatest improvements ever effected in the navy. To him was due the adoption of a system of ventilation with wind-mills and air pumps. The immediate result was a very great reduction in the sickness and death-rate on shipboard, the Earl of Halifax placing it on record that for twelve men who died in non-ventilated ships, only one succumbed in the ventilated vessels.

Early in 1755, a war with France became probable on account of hostile preparations made in North America. As a matter of precaution a French squadron on its way out was attacked and two ships captured. Something like three hundred French merchant ships were also taken during the year. War, however, was not declared on either side!

Early in 1756, news was received of French designs on Minorca, a considerable expedition collecting at Toulon. After some delay, Byng left England with ten ships of the line, picked up three more at Gibraltar, and sailed to relieve Minorca, where Fort St. Philip was closely invested by 15,000 troops. Supporting these last was a French squadron of twelve ships of the line, under La Gallisonniére.

On Byng arriving, La Gallisonniére embarked 450 men from the attacking force to reinforce his crews, and on May 20th ensued the battle of Minorca, which resulted in the defeat and retreat of Byng.[32] Ten days later the British force in the island surrendered.

Byng was subsequently court-martialled and shot at Portsmouth for having failed to do his utmost to destroy the French fleet. His ships were indifferently manned and in none too good condition. He encountered a better man than himself, and there is no reason to suppose that had he resumed action, anything but his total defeat would have resulted. At the same time, the execution of Byng, _pour encourager les autres_, probably bore utilitarian fruit in the years that were to follow. The execution has since been condemned as little better than a revengeful judicial murder; but a realisation of the circumstances of the times suggests that other motives than punishment of an individual were paramount.

[Illustration: BATTLESHIPS OF THE WHITE ERA AT SEA.]

War was formally declared shortly after the fall of Minorca. No events of much moment marked the rest of the year 1756, but early in the following year, Calcutta, which had fallen to the natives, was recaptured by Clive, assisted by a naval force.

In 1758, the Navy consisted of 156 of the line and 164 lesser vessels. The _personnel_ was 60,000.

The situation at this time was that in North America the French colonies were being hotly pressed, Louisbourg being invested. The French had a species of double plan--to relieve Louisbourg directly, and also the usual invasion of England.

The relief of Louisbourg came to nought; a Toulon squadron which came out being driven back by Osborne, while Hawke destroyed the convoys in the Basque Roads. Louisbourg finally fell, four ships of the line that were lying there being burned, and one other captured, together with some smaller craft.

Nearer home, combined naval and military attacks were pressed upon the French coast, Anson wrecking havoc on St. Malo, while Howe destroyed practically everything at Cherbourg.

The invasion of England project remained, however. In 1759, the French had somewhere about twenty ships of the line, under De Conflans, at Brest, twelve at Toulon, under De la Clue, five with a fleet of transports at Quiberon, five frigates at Dunkirk with transports, a division of small craft and flat-bottomed boats at Havre, and a squadron of nine ships of the line with auxiliaries in the West Indies.

These were watched or blockaded by superior British squadrons in every case--the maintenance of blockades being mainly possible owing to the improved ventilation of the ships. Provisions were still bad and scurvy plentiful, but the blockade maintained was better and closer than anything that the French can have anticipated. This war, indeed, saw the birth of scientific blockade in place of the somewhat haphazard methods which had previously existed. In part, it arose from a better perception of naval warfare, the study of history and the growth of definite objectives. But since side by side with these improvements tactical ideas were nearly non-existent and ships in fighting kept a line of the barrack-ground type regardless of all circumstances,[33] improvements in naval architecture may claim at least as big a part as the wit of man. Ideas of blockading and watching were as old as the Peloponnesian War, but means to carry them into effect had hitherto been sadly lacking.

To resume, the French fleets being cornered by superior forces, had no option but to wait for lucky opportunity to effect the usual attempted junctions. This opportunity was long in coming, and meanwhile Rodney made an attack on the invading flotilla at Havre, bombarded it for fifty-two hours, and utterly destroyed the flat-bottomed boats which had been collected.

In July, 1759, Boscawen, having run short of water and provisions, had to withdraw from Toulon to Gibraltar, where he began to refit his ships, and De la Clue, learning of this, came out of Toulon in August, slipping through the straits at midnight, with the English fleet in pursuit shortly afterwards.

De la Clue had intended to rendezvous at Cadiz, but having altered his mind, made the almost inevitable failure of getting all his ships to comprehend it.[34] So it came about that daylight found him near Cape St. Vincent, with only six sail, and eight of Boscawen’s ships (which he at first took to be his own stragglers) coming up. In the action that followed, three of the French ships were captured, two burned and one escaped. The stragglers of the French fleet got into Cadiz as originally directed, and a few months later escaped back to Toulon.

Thurot, with a small squadron, slipped out from Dunkirk, in October, merely to intern himself in a Swedish harbour.

Hawke continued his blockade of Brest, being now and then driven off by gales, and during one of these absences, Bempart, with his nine West Indian ships, got into Brest. The Brest fleet was apparently very short-handed, or else the West Indian squadron in a very bad way; in any case the crews of the latter were distributed among the former, and De Conflans sailed with only twenty-one ships on November 14th.

The expeditionary force which he proposed to convoy lay at Quiberon, which place owing to weather he did not make till the 20th. There he sighted and gave chase to the blockading English frigates, and in doing so met Hawke’s fleet of twenty-three ships of the line.

In the battle of Quiberon which followed, the French lost six ships of the line. Eleven, by throwing their guns overboard, escaped into shallow water, the remainder reached safety at Rochefort. Two English ships ran aground, otherwise little damage was sustained.[35]

Out of these happenings the French fleet--which, in this year alone, lost thirty-one ships of the line--ceased to have any importance; while to the general naval activity of the English must be attributed the capture of Quebec, by Wolfe.

In 1760, the British ships of the line had sunk to 120 in number, though the _personnel_ rose to 73,000. Naval operations were mainly confined to the relief of Quebec and the consequent capture of the whole of Canada, and the suppression of privateering--over a hundred French corsairs being captured in 1760 alone.

The results of privateering have been put at 2,500 English merchant vessels being captured in the four years ending 1760; the French merchant-ship loss being little more than one-third. In 1761, when French naval power had practically ceased to exist, 812 English merchant ships were captured. It must, however, be borne in mind that every year saw great increases in English shipping. Heavy as the numerical losses were, they did not exceed ten per cent., and the bulk of vessels captured were coasters.

French mercantile losses were considerably smaller, but simply for the reason that France had fewer and fewer ships to lose, for her trade was being swept from the sea. English trade on the other hand grew and multiplied exceedingly. It may even be argued that so far from really injuring our trade, the _guerre de course_ in this war actually fostered it by the enhanced profits which safe arrival entailed, this attracting the speculative. But for the speculative the loss of larger vessels would have been smaller than it was. These were they, who, on a convoy nearing home waters, sailed on ahead, chancing attack in the hopes of the greatly increased profits to be made by early arrivals. Ships which obeyed the orders of the escorting warships were very rarely captured.

The following years saw the capture of Pondicherry, Dominica, a successful attack on Belle Isle and also a general loss of French colonial possessions. To quote Mahan, “At the end of seven years the Kingdom of Great Britain has become the British Empire.”

In 1762, Spain declared war. She had a fleet consisting nominally of eighty-nine sail, but joined in far too late to be of any assistance to France. No naval battle of importance took place.

Peace was signed early in 1763. By it England secured Canada from France, and Spain lost Florida.

During this war the usual complaints about ships’ bottoms were made, especially from the West Indian Station; and in October, 1761, the Admiralty ordered a frigate to be sheathed with thin sheets of copper as an experiment. This was at first found extremely successful, but after the lapse of a few years it was noted that chemical action had set up between the copper and the iron bolts at the ships’ bottom--most of these bolts being rusted away.

Experiments were, however, continued, since, though the life of a copper bottom was but three to four years, its general advantages were very great. Ultimately iron bolts were abandoned in favour of copper ones. The cost of this came to £2,272 for a ship of the first-rate, and was only relatively satisfactory.

Ever since the Treaty of Paris in 1763, friction had been growing between the Home Country and the North American Colonies. The causes which led to it concern the British Navy only in so far as it was used for the harsh enforcement of the regulations entailed by the Treaty in question--regulations which bore heavily on the Colonists. The rest of the story is merely the tale of political incapacity at home.

The American Colonists, in addition to a few fast sailing frigates which they handled with unexpected aptitude, possessed a so very considerable mercantile fleet that it was estimated that 18,000 of their seamen had served in the English ships in the late war with France. Consequently, the Colonists were in a position to fit our privateers, and with these, in the first eight years of the war, they captured nearly 1,000 English merchant ships. Their own losses were, however, greater, and it is probable that despite all the military blunders which characterised English conduct of the war, the Colonists would eventually have been worn down but for the active intervention of France in 1778, and Spain a little later.

As regards naval operations against the Americans themselves, these were mainly in the nature of sea transport. Where they were otherwise, they were of an inglorious nature, owing to the total inability of the Home Government to appreciate the position. The naval story of the war is, in the main, the story of frigates attempting difficult channels, and going aground in the attempt. It is of interest mainly because in 1776 one David Bushnell made the first submarine ever actually used in war, and attempted to torpedo the English flagship, _Eagle_ (64). He reached his quarry unsuspected, but the difficulties of attaching his “infernal machine” were such that he had to rise to the surface for air and abandon the enterprise. His subsequent fate was undramatic--he and his boat were captured at sea on board a merchant ship, which was carrying him elsewhere for further operations.

France, which had been rendering considerable secret assistance to the revolted Colonists, had, ever since the Treaty of Paris, been steadily building up her Navy, till she had eighty ships of the line and 67,000 men. The efficiency of the _personnel_ had been increased by the enrolment of a special corps of gunners, who practiced weekly. Efforts--which, however, were only moderately successful--had also been made to break down the serious class rivalries between those officers who were of the _noblesse_ and those who were tarpaulin seamen. But the majority of officers were skilled tactically, and special orders were issued that to seek out and attack the enemy was an objective.[36] Here, again, another weak point existed: d’Orvilliers, who commanded the main fleet, also received orders to be cautious--orders very similar in tenor to those by which his predecessors in previous wars were hampered.

The fleet of Great Britain, spread over many quarters of the world, including ships being fitted, consisted of about 150 ships of the line, besides auxiliaries; but the actual available force of Home water fleet with which Keppel sailed just before the opening of the war was twenty ships only!

Capturing two French frigates and learning from them that thirty-two ships were at Brest, Keppel got reinforcements of ten ships, and on the 27th of July, 1778, met d’Orvilliers, also with thirty ships, off Ushant. The battle lasted three hours, when the fleets drew apart without any material result having been achieved. The tactical ability lay with the French, and but for the inefficiency of the leader of one French division, the Duc de Chartres (the future “Phillipe Egalité”), would have done so still more. Yet, though Keppel had obviously done his best, public opinion in England had expected a great naval victory, and Keppel was the subject of a most violent controversy, which soon developed on political lines.

At and about the time of the battle of Ushant, D’Estaing, with twelve ships of the line and five frigates, reached the Delaware. The English fleet under Howe, which consisted of only nine inferior ships of the line, took refuge inside Sandy Hook. D’Estaing came outside and remained ten days in July, but then sailed away.

His failure to operate has been put down to the advice of pilots, but more probably, as pointed out by Admiral Mahan, he had secret instructions not to assist the Colonists too actively. The destruction of Hood’s fleet would have meant the capture of New York, peace between England and America, and a considerable force released for operations against France. Most of the subsequent movements of the year seem to have been coloured by a similar policy. In 1779, the West Indian islands of St. Vincent and Grenada fell into the hands of the French. Subsequently D’Estaing returned to the North American Coast, but no important operations took place there. Finally he returned with some ships to France, sending the others to the West Indies.

Spain declared war against England in 1780. Her fleet then consisted of nearly sixty ships of the line, which--like the French--were in a more efficient state than in previous wars. Her prime object was the recovery of Gibraltar.

A combined Franco-Spanish fleet of sixty-four ships of the line appeared in the Channel, causing an immense panic in England. The only available English fleet consisted of thirty-seven sail of the line, under Sir Charles Hardy, and this wandered away to the westward, leaving the Channel quite open to the allies, who, however, also wandered about without accomplishing anything. As usual with allies, there were divided councils, and in addition the French fleet, having had to wait long for the unwilling Spaniards, was badly incapacitated from sickness. Thus, and thus only, is their failure to invade to be explained: they had 40,000 men ready to be transported over, also a naval force ample to defeat any available English fleet, and able to cover landing operations as well.

When the war first began, there was in France an English admiral--that same Rodney who had destroyed the invading flotilla at Havre in the previous war--who by reason of his debts was unable to return to his own country. In private life he was a merry old soul of sixty or so, and at a dinner one night boasted that if he could pay his debts and go back to England, he would get a command and easily smash the French fleet. Hearing this, a French nobleman promptly paid his debts for him, and sarcastically told Rodney to go back and prove his words.

Rodney, who had the reputation of being an able officer, but nothing more, got home in 1779. In 1780, having secured a command for the West Indies, he left Portsmouth with twenty sail of the line and a convoy for the relief of Gibraltar. Off Finisterre, he captured a Spanish convoy carrying provisions to the besiegers. Off Cape St. Vincent he fell in with eleven Spanish ships and attacked them at night, in a gale, blowing up one, and capturing six. Thence he proceeded to Gibraltar, relieved it from all immediate danger, Minorca also; and then sailed for the West Indies. Here, on April 17th, some three weeks after arrival, he met the French under Guichen, and made the first attempt at that “breaking the line” associated with his name. The attempt was not a success, as his orders were misunderstood by several of his own captains and his intentions realised and foiled by his opponents.[37]

This action was indecisive; as also were two more that followed.

In this year (1780), Captain Horatio Nelson, then only twenty-two years old, made his first appearance in the _Hinchinbrook_ (28), in an attack on San Juan, Nicaragua. He succeeded, after terrible loss of _personnel_ from disease.

A Spanish squadron then joined the French, but an epidemic--that most fruitful of all sources for the upsetting of naval plans--overtook it. The Spaniards were incapacitated and the French returned home. Rodney went to New York, where his operations delayed the cause of the Colonists; then returning to the West Indies, operated against the Dutch, who had by now joined the French and Spaniards.

The general position of Great Britain, in 1781 and 1782, was well nigh desperate. Gibraltar was only held by a remarkable combination of luck and resolution. To quote Mahan, “England stood everywhere on the defensive.” She fought with her back to the wall. In the East Indies, Suffren kept the French flag flying: and things were generally at a very low ebb, when in 1782 Rodney “broke the line” in the victory of the Battle of the Saints.

On April 9th, the fleets had come into contact without much result on either side. On the 12th, De Grasse, being then in some disorder, with thirty-four ships, encountered the English with thirty-six in good order. Rodney and Hood broke the line in two places. Admiral Mahan has been at pains to show us that this result was much a matter of luck and change of wind, and that the victory was by no means followed up as it might have been. One French ship was sunk and five were taken, including De Grasse himself, whose losses in his flagship, the _Ville de Paris_, were greater than those in the entire English fleet.

To the nation at this juncture, however, anything savouring of victory was a thing to be made the utmost of, and Rodney has probably received more than his meed of merit over what was mainly a matter of luck.

Two features of special interest in connection with this battle are that, though up to it, British ships had recently, owing to coppering, proved better sailers than the French; in the sequel to this fight, the French proved equal to sail away. The rapid deterioration of coppering, already mentioned, may account for some of this, but in this battle there is also reason to believe that the French fleet instituted firing at the rigging. Contemporary statements exist as to the French having made a wonderful number of holes in English hulls without much material result, but these may be dismissed as pardonable temporary bluster. More germane is the fact that the English ships were supplied with carronades[38]--harmless at long range and deadly at short--for which reason the French tried to keep them at a distance, so that altogether superior efficiency with men and weapons would seem to have played a greater part than any tactical genius on the part of Rodney, in whom a dogged insistence to get at the enemy was ever the main characteristic rather than “thinking things out.” The Mahan estimate of him sorts better with known facts than the estimate of his accomplishment at the time.

As regards Rodney himself, it is interesting to record that Navy and Party were so synonymous at the time that he, being a strong Tory, had already been superseded by political influence when he won the battle that broke French power in the West Indies. It lies to the credit of the Whigs that both he and Hood, his second in command, received peerages; but the most difficult thing of all to understand to-day is, that in a life and death struggle such as this war was, the personal political element should have managed to find expression.

In 1782, Gibraltar, which had been twice relieved, was once more in grievous straits. The French had evolved floating batteries for the attack, similar in principle to those which, some seventy years later, were to figure so prominently in the Crimea.

Being merely armoured with heavy wood planks, however, they were easily set on fire with red-hot shot, and the great bombardment failed long before the relieving force, under Howe, arrived. The garrison, however, were in great straits for supplies, and their real relief was Howe’s fleet, which the combined Franco-Spanish squadrons did not dare to attack.

The Treaty of Versailles, in 1783, followed soon afterwards. By it the United States of America were recognised, Minorca was given up, but most of the captured West Indian islands restored to Great Britain.

Just before the close of the war, the relative naval strengths were assessed as follows:--[39]

==================+==========+=========+========+========== Description of | Great | | | Vessels. | Britain. | France. | Spain. | Holland. ------------------+----------+---------+--------+---------- Ships of the Line | 105 | 89 | 53 | 32 Fifty-gun Ships | 13 | 7 | 3 | 0 Large Frigates | 63 | 49 | 12 | { 28 Small Frigates | 69 | 54 | 36 | { Sloops | 217 | 86 | 31 | 13 Cutters | 43 | 22 | 0 | 0 Armed Ships | 24 | 0 | 0 | 0 Bombs | 7 | 5 | 14 | 0 Fire-Ships | 9 | 7 | 11 | 6 Yachts | 5 | 0 | 0 | 0 +----------+---------+--------+---------- TOTAL | 555 | 319 | 160 | 79 ==================+==========+=========+========+==========

In this list it is interesting to note the British inability to maintain even a Two-Power Standard in ships of the line, whereas in sloops and such like, an enormous preponderance prevailed. For the suppression of privateering on the coastal trade, these small craft proved very useful. Also worthy of note is the decline of the fire-ship as a naval arm.[40]

The figures as a whole suggest with much clarity that had the Allies been able to act together, Great Britain would never have emerged from the war so well as she did.

The ten years’ peace that followed was little more than a breathing space. War was constantly apprehended, and known improvement in French ships were such that they had to be carefully watched. The frigates built in England were made longer than before, with a view to keeping pace with French sailing qualities.

Considerable interest was taken in how far the country was self-supporting in the matter of timber for shipbuilding, a certain reliance on foreign supplies having previously existed. At, and about 1775, the cost of shipbuilding for the East India Company had exactly doubled in a few years. The home supply trouble arose, partly from the increased size of shipping, partly from the tendency of owners to fell trees as early as possible. Out of which special oak plantations were set up in the New Forest and elsewhere, though oak happened to cease to be of value for shipbuilding long before they had grown large enough for the larger timbers.

The question of repairs also came in for consideration, an average of twenty-five years’ repair totalling the cost of a new ship. At and about this time also, the building of ships by contract in peace time was first recommended on the grounds that thus the private yards would be better available in case of war.

Regular stores for ships in the dockyards were also instituted, with a view to the speedy equipment of ships in reserve.[41] It was mainly owing to this last provision, introduced by Lord Barham in 1783, that, though when the war of the French Revolution broke out in 1793 but twelve ships of the line and thirty lesser vessels were in commission, a few months later seventy-one ships of the line and 104 smaller craft were in service. The number of men voted in 1793 was 45,000.