The wish to charge home was strong with our men, and the effort incessant, but until Rodney showed the way on April 12th, 1782, it was never effectually done.The explanation of this failure is to be found in the enduring and almost pathetic devotion of the old admirals to the “line of battle.” When a ship carries her armament on her sides—in a broadside, that is to say—she must bring her side to bear on the enemy in order to use her guns. When several vessels so armed are acting together, they must follow one another in a line, otherwise they would be constantly liable to fire into friends. Therefore as early as the first Dutch war fleets were marshalled in a line, one ship following another, at a distance sufficient to allow room to manœuvre, and yet near enough to permit of mutual assistance. This is the line ahead or line of battle. But the object of all formations is to enable you to get most effectively at the enemy, to break him up, to throw the whole of your own force on part of his, or at least to be superior at the point of attack. To do that it is necessary to get right among his battalions or his ships. This had been well known to the admirals of the Commonwealth and of Charles the Second, and therefore their fighting was furious and effective. But from about the Revolution time till the very end of the American War it was forgotten. Men fell into the pedant frame of mind. As Molière’s immortal doctors thought much of doing the proper professional things and little of the patient, the British admiral thought first and last of his line. To keep that intact, to engage van to van, centre to centre, rear to rear, to go at it hammer and tongs ship to ship, till his gunnery had shattered the enemy and thrown him into confusion, then to order a general chase and pick up the prizes—this was what the British admiral dreamt of when he dreamt of battles. It was a manlyvision, but it could only become a reality if the enemy was prepared to meet him half way—which the French, who did not want a smashing battle, would never do. So the history of our battles against equal forces for nearly a century was something like this:—The British admiral, who is longing to be at them, manœuvres for the advantage of the wind in order to force on a battle, and gets it. The French admiral, who wishes to keep his line of retreat open, accepts battle to leeward, so that he has only to put before the wind whenever he wants to be off. Under reduced sail he slips slowly along. The English line comes down at a more or less acute angle. Then when the van is within gunshot the helm is put down, and the English ships run along the enemy’s line, cannonading and cannonaded. Of course this means that they take the fire of every ship they pass, and as the French fire high, they get cut up in the rigging. When it appears to the French admiral that the leading English ships are sufficiently crippled, he puts before the wind and runs down to leeward. Then the British admiral has to rearrange his line, and make another shot at his slippery enemy. So it goes on till dark comes, and the fleets separate without loss of a ship to either. Sometimes they cross on opposite tacks, and the rest is as before with unimportant variations. The British admiral boasts he has made the enemy run. The French admiral boasts he has crippled three or four English ships and repulsed the attack. Each is quite sure he has won the battle, whereas in fact there has been no battle at all, but only an artillery duel, which in all war by sea and land is apt to mean mere noise and waste of powder and shot.
About 1780, however, there were some both in Franceand England to whom it had begun to be clear that with such strategy and tactics as this nothing effectual would ever be done. Among the French officers Souffren had become disgusted with the feeble principles adopted in his service, and was longing for an opportunity to show his countrymen a more excellent way. That Rodney had thought the subject out, and come to conclusions of his own, he was to show in the first month of his command in the Leeward Islands. But that subject of King George to whom the folly of the old way and the need of a better was most clear was not a seaman at all, but a Scotch gentleman, who is supposed to have been one of the originals of Monkbarns. The name of Clerk of Eldin, the father of Sir Walter Scott’s friend, must needs be mentioned in a life of Rodney. A considerable controversy has raged over the question, whether he influenced the Admiral, and if so to what extent. Like most controversy, it has owed not a little of its vitality to a lax use of terms, and of its rancour to professional vanity. To this day naval officers hear the name of Clerk of Eldin with a certain irritation. It is an exasperation to them that a landsman should have the credit of discovering what remained hidden for so long to so many famous admirals. Yet that he did see what they had not seen is certain. His family had crossed his boyish longing to go to sea, and he consoled himself by making the sea his hobby. He made short voyages from Leith. He sailed toy fleets on his pond at Eldin. He carried little models of ships—wild ducks is the proper name of them—in his pocket, and manœuvred them on the mahogany whenever host or guest would allow him to mount hishobby. Like a true Scotchman, he could not be satisfied without worrying out the principles. At last it became clear to him that, until our admirals gave up running along the enemy’s line, and took to smashing into it, there would be no end of battles such as Pocock had fought in the East Indies and Keppel fought off Ushant. He collected the result of his inquiries and reflections in one of the most luminous books ever written. It was so clear, indeed, that Adam Smith, with a respect for the human intelligence somewhat startling in a philosopher, hesitated to accept it all because it seemed to him so self-evidently true that he thought the admirals must have seen it all long ago unless there had been something against it which was obvious to their professional knowledge. Their blindness was, however, due to other causes—to such causes as prevented men of business from seeing those economic truths which were thought out by Adam Smith himself. In 1780 this book existed only in fragments printed for private circulation. These fragments were given by Clerk to a Mr. Aitkinson, a friend of Rodney’s, in January of 1780, on a promise that they should be sent to the Admiral. Whether they ever reached him we do not know. There is no evidence that they did, and the evidence that they did not is purely negative. Clerk’s name and the claims made for him will come up again. For the present, it is enough to cite him as an example of what was working in men’s minds, and also because one likes to do a little justice to an ingenious gentleman who got firm hold of a truth, and has been carped at as a mere amateur by some members of a profession which had forgotten that same truth, and needed to be retaught.
Atthe end of March Rodney was at Gros Islet Bay in Santa Lucia with a fleet of twenty-one sail of line-of-battle ships. His adversary Guichen was at Fort Royal Bay in Martinique, some thirty miles off to the north, with a force of twenty-three line-of-battle ships and two fifty-gun ships—a class of vessels which held an intermediate position between the liner and the frigate. Both admirals had their attendant swarm of small craft. In spite of the superior numbers of the French, the fleets were substantially equal. The French Government usually built its vessels bigger and better than ours, and the calibre of its guns was heavier. On the other hand Rodney had more three-deckers and seventy-fours than his opponent. What advantage there was—and there was some—was in favour of Guichen, but it was only just sufficient to enhance the glory of beating him. The superiority or even the equality of the Frenchman was somewhat of a surprise to Rodney, who expected to find himself in greater force. He complained that he had not been kept well informed by his Government of the movements of Guichen, who had sailed from Europe shortly after he himself left for therelief of Gibraltar, and had got to the West Indies first. There was doubtless some ground for the complaint, but Rodney, who was just then rather disposed to find fault, made the most of it. The position was certainly not one which an admiral who believed in himself, as Rodney did, and commanded an English fleet, need have considered unfavourable.
Whatever ground of complaint he might feel he had, Rodney was resolved that there should be no shilly-shallying. On March 21st he turned into Gros Islet Bay with the four ships he brought from Europe and joined the seventeen already lying there under Sir Hyde Parker. One does not clearly understand why Guichen, who was already at sea with his twenty-three ships, allowed the junction to take place. He did, and then returned to Fort Royal Bay. After spending less than a week in watering his ships, and in settling matters of detail, Rodney got to sea on April 2nd, and paraded in defiance off the French harbour. It would have been utterly contrary to the usual practice of the French admirals if Guichen had come out for the mere purpose of fighting a battle. He would not stir till he had an “ulterior object,” and so lay tight under the protection of the shore batteries. Finding that his enemy would not stir, Rodney returned to Gros Islet Bay, leaving look-out frigates on the watch. By April 15th the French had settled a plan. There was a convoy of merchant ships to be seen safe to San Domingo for one thing, and for another it was decided to make a stroke at one of the English islands. In this work Guichen had the zealous assistance of the then Governor of Martinique, the famous Bouillé, that“quick, choleric, sharply discerning, stubbornly endeavouring man,” who afterwards played so great a part in the Revolution. The plan was to ship a body of troops under Bouillé himself on board the war vessels, to stand northward with the merchant ships in convoy, to see them off for San Domingo, and then, by turning to windward between Martinique and Dominica, to beat up to Barbadoes in the hope of mastering it before Rodney could come up from Santa Lucia. Barbadoes was then full of French prisoners and prizes. The scheme was most characteristic of French naval operations at that time. It depended for success not on the previous beating of the English fleet, but on luck in avoiding a battle at sea. Of course if the English admiral behaved with common sense and energy he would catch the French up before they got to Barbadoes, and then they must fight or run. In either case there was an end of the scheme.
As a matter of fact it hardly even began to be put into execution. No sooner were the French known to be under way than the English look-out frigates were signalling the news to one another all along the thirty miles of sea between Fort Royal and Gros Islet Bay. As soon as the signal of the nearest frigate was seen by the look-out on Pigeon Island, a great mass of rock which shuts in the anchorage, the order was given to the English fleet to get up anchor. Without delay it stood out to sea, stretching to the north along the coast of Martinique in pursuit of the enemy. The French had slipped out by night, but Rodney judged that they would endeavour to make for Barbadoes through the Dominica Channel, and followed them hot foot. In thecourse of the 16th M. de Guichen’s fleet was seen by the English to the north, endeavouring to turn to windward between Dominica and Martinique about twenty-four miles to westward of the Pearl Rock. In order to secure the power to force on a battle, and also in order to bar the road to Barbadoes, Rodney worked to windward. Before night he had succeeded in obtaining that commanding position. It was too late to force on a battle, but during the darkness the English fleet kept across the road of the French, whose movements were keenly watched and immediately signalled by guns. TheVenusandGreyhoundfrigates patrolled the space dividing the enemies till daybreak.
At sunrise, shortly after five o’clock, the two fleets were drawn up in two lines of from six to seven miles long, heading both to the north. The French were at a distance of some seven miles to westward and leeward of the English. At a quarter to six the signal was given to form the line of battle on the starboard tack at two cables’ length. With the wind at east this would mean that the fleet was heading to the north. The cable as a measure of length being about two hundred yards, and the average length of a ship fifty-four, the line must have been something under six miles long. Before we go down with Rodney into the very inconclusive battle which was about to be fought, there are two facts which it will be necessary to note. The first is, that the system of signals then used in our fleet was most defective. There was no proper general code. Every admiral had to make his own on taking command of his squadron. It was not possible to do work requiring such minute finish ofdetail as the formation of a code of signals in such circumstances. Much was apt to be omitted. In Rodney’s own code, for instance, there was then no signal by which a captain could make known that he did not understand the admiral’s orders. One was supplied after the battle. The second fact is this: at that time there existed a body of laws for the fleet known as the Fighting Orders and the Additional Fighting Instructions. These were not statements of the principles on which battles should be fought, but recipes for fighting a battle. They bear an almost comic resemblance to those cut-and-dried rules for painting a picture to be found in old drawing-books, which tell men that grief is expressed by pulling down the corners of the mouth, and pain by wrinkling the forehead. Moreover, they were worded with the looseness of an Act of Parliament. Such as they were, however, they were binding on all captains unless direct orders to the contrary were given by the admiral, who disregarded them at his peril, as had been shown in the case of Rodney’s old chief, Mathews, who was broken by court-martial for an offence against them, though he only did it to get at the enemy and support the honour of the flag. With insufficient power to give orders, and hampered by a competing authority, a British admiral was very liable to find his fleet get out of hand. These same standing orders are responsible for much of the pedantry of our fighting during a century.
Rodney had decided to break away from the old tradition by which our admirals always endeavoured to fight van to van, centre to centre, and rear to rear. He had resolved to throw the whole of his ships on a part of the enemy. At a quarter to six he signalled that he meantto attack the enemy’s rear. The most northerly ships of his own line were under Rear-Admiral Rowley, one of the many of the name who have done much respectable sea-fighting. He himself was in the centre with his flag in theSandwich. The rear, as the fleet was then sailing, was under the command of Sir Hyde Parker; the stern-most ship of all being theStirling Castle, which was to be unenviably distinguished before the day was out. Until about nine o’clock no opportunity presented itself of making an attack, and the two fleets continued to stand to west of north watching one another—the French waiting for an attack, the English waiting for an opening. M. de Guichen had stretched his fleet well out, “as if,” as Rodney scornfully put it, “he thought I was going to run away.” At about nine Rodney saw a gap in the French line a few ships astern of the admiral, the leading English ship being then apparently about level with the leading Frenchman—and the last of the enemy, in the loose order they were in, a good bit behind the last Englishman. At once Rodney ordered the fleet to tack and steer for the enemy’s rear—which, if the Frenchman had held on his course, would have thrown the whole of the English ships on the last eight or nine of his line. Guichen was too wary to be so caught. No sooner did he see the move of the English admiral than up went his signals, and the ships of his centre and van came round on their heel together and swept on to fill up the gap. Then the ships which had been nearly cut off spun round also. Resolute, as Wellington himself at Salamanca, not to strike till he could do it with effect, Rodney hauled his wind, and the two fleets resumed their attitude of observation, heading now to the southwith the wind on their port or left side, sailing nearly parallel with one another. So they continued for rather over an hour, the French, as before, too much extended, the English in a fairly compact line. At last Rodney decided to make an opportunity. Shortly after ten o’clock he reversed his order of march and went back again towards the north. Guichen perhaps thought the English admiral meant to avoid a battle, and was content to let him do so. He did not alter his own course, and now the two fleets ran past one another, the French to the south, the English to the north, with the wind on the beam. These opposite courses were continued for half an hour, when Rodney for the second time came round to the port tack, and headed to the south. The result of this movement had been to bring the whole of the English force opposite the rear third or half of the French. Again the two fleets stood on together to the south for another hour. The English fleet had been slightly disordered in the course of these movements; this or that vessel was out of her place, the rear had to be ordered to make more sail to close the centre. By midday all was in order and Rodney hoisted the signal to bear down all together, and each to engage the ship opposite her on the enemy’s line.
The order was obeyed in a manner which threw Rodney into a paroxysm of rage. To him what ought to have been done was as clear as day. All his ships should have borne down together, so that the whole twenty-one would have come into action with a dozen or fifteen Frenchmen with every chance of crushing them before Guichen’s van could turn to his assistance. By ship opposite he meant the ship opposite atthe moment, but what was self-evident to him was by no means so to his captains, nor to Parker, whose division was now leading. Brought up in the pedantic old school, and steeped in the orthodox faith that van should engage van, centre centre, and rear rear, they understood opposite ship to mean ship occupying the same relative position in the enemy’s line. The order to attack the rear they supposed only to apply to the movement made at nine o’clock. So when Rodney and the ships astern of him which followed the movements of their admiral turned west to fall on the French rear, the ships ahead of him, utterly forgetting the order to keep at a distance of two cables’ length from one another, and mindful only of the pedantic old theory, kept on along the French line, headed by theStirling Castle, which went blindly on to put herself alongside the leading French ship miles off. Rodney’s careful formation fell utterly to pieces, and his scientifically prepared plan of attack was ruined. His force, instead of being concentrated on a part of the enemy, was scattered all along his line. In vain were signals hoisted on the flag-ship. They were not understood by men whose minds were clouded by preconceived notions—were perhaps not seen in the smoke gathering from the cannon.
To Rodney it was now only left to do his own duty as a brave man. He placed his ship at about a pistol shot from the nearest Frenchman, and by furious cannonade drove him from the line. Even now he was exasperated by further bungling and by downright misconduct. TheCornwall, the ship immediately ahead, went too far from him. TheYarmouth, the next ahead of theCornwall, did worse. She first stopped at toogreat a distance from the French, and then actually drew out of action and lay to windward of the Admiral. This last piece of misconduct Rodney did amend. First a signal, and then when it was not obeyed a cannon shot fired into her, brought theYarmouthdown to the flag-ship’s quarter. There by the voice of the signal lieutenant, who, standing by Rodney in the stern walk—the gallery outside the cabin—roared at her through his speaking-trumpet, she got the order to come into action again under the Admiral’s stern. But the battle had gone to pieces. Nothing was left of it but a furious cannonade between the rear divisions of the two fleets. Fortunately the French made no use of the opportunity presented them by the confusion in the English line. Some of them were crippled, others misunderstood orders. By three o’clock many of them had fallen to leeward. M. de Guichen called off the ships engaged to form a new line. Rodney, seeing that nothing effectual could now be done, hauled down the signal for battle. The two fleets separated—the French standing to the north, the English to the south—and by night they were out of sight of one another. Even now the confusion in the English fleet did not end, for during the darkness some of the vessels were separated, and did not rejoin their admiral till late next day.
The bitterness of this disappointment remained with Rodney as long as he lived. He told Gilbert Blane that he was prouder of the plan he laid to beat Guichen than of the actual victory he won over Grasse two years later. On this latter occasion he owed something to fortune and much to the enemy’s blunders. Grasse too was the inferior man. Had his orders beenobeyed on April 17th, Rodney felt that he would have won by pure good management, and against an adversary who was a master swordsman. This was the feeling of a genuine artist, and one cannot but sympathise with the anger he felt and expressed. Guichen even had a fellow-feeling for him, and wrote condoling with him on the bad support he had received. For himself, so he said, he thought eight of his ships were gone when he saw the beginning of the English attack. This letter, it is almost unnecessary to say, is not mentioned by French historians, but we have Rodney’s word for it; and nothing could be more in keeping with the gallant, courtly manners of a time which retained the old faith that the noble cavaliers who follow the honourable profession of arms are not the less brothers and fellow-artists because they fight on opposite sides. Rodney indicated his feelings sufficiently clearly in his public letter—so clearly in fact that Sandwich thought it better to suppress a paragraph. Even as it was published there could be no doubt what the Admiral meant. He pointedly complimented Guichen on the support he had received from his captains, and abstained severely from any praise of his own subordinates. In private letters to Sandwich and to Lady Rodney he was vehement in wrath and denunciation, declaring in so many words that it was all a villainous plot to ruin him and discredit the Administration. Something must be allowed here for natural heat and something for gout. Rodney had already complained in bitter general terms of the conduct of some of his captains in the fight with Don Juan de Langara, when, if we are to judge by results, every man’s duty was well done. We need notsuppose there was any villainy or plot, but only stupidity and routine. It is a fact which ought to be remembered that the conduct of Parker and the captains in the van was partly justified by the hidebound fighting orders. The fault of the failure rests more with the neglect to form a proper code of signals, and the foolish system which compelled an admiral to fight in chains imposed by standing orders.
His sense of their conduct was not unknown to his captains, and one of them actually complained to him and insisted on a court-martial. This was Carkett of theStirling Castle, the officer who led the van right away from the centre. He drew upon himself an admirably worded and most severe rebuke. No court-martial on him was ever held. Poor Carkett perished in the dreadful hurricane which desolated the West Indies in the following October. He was one of the officers from before the mast, and had been the hero of a famous episode in the Seven Years’ War. At that time he was first-lieutenant to Captain Gardiner in theMonmouth, sixty-four, in Admiral Osborne’s squadron, which was blockading a French force in Carthagena. One of the Frenchmen was theFormidable, eighty, which had been the French flag-ship in the scandalous battle off Minorca. Now Gardiner had been Byng’s flag-captain on that occasion, and he had sworn to attack the big Frenchman whenever he met him, if it were only in an open boat. The French squadron slipped to sea, were seen by the English, and scattered in flight. Gardiner picked out theFormidableand followed her. Both sailed well, and had soon run the other ships out of sight. Then the Frenchman, exasperated by the pursuit of an enemyhalf his size, turned at bay. Gardiner was as good as his word. He attacked in a masterly manner and with indomitable pertinacity. Shortly after the action began he fell with a musket-shot in the head. The wound was swiftly mortal, but while he could still speak he charged Carkett to fight it out, to go down if he must with his colours flying, but never to leave the Frenchman, or to strike. Carkett kept his charge in the letter and the spirit. Metaphorically, or perhaps in heroic reality, he nailed his colours to the mast, and fought till theMonmouthwas a hulk, and theFormidablewas beaten to a standstill. At last two of the slower sailing ships of the English squadron, guided by the sound of the cannon, for the action had been carried on in the night, came up, and the French captain struck. He insisted, however, on surrendering his sword to Carkett; not to the senior captain of the two new-comers. It is impossible to believe that such a man wanted courage or loyalty. Indeed Rodney, even while rebuking him, fully recognised his bravery and the quality of his former service.
The case of Bateman of theYarmouthwas very different. He too had risen from before the mast, but with no such record as Carkett. In the action he had simply misbehaved, and it was not for the first time. TheYarmouthhad been badly handled in Admiral Byron’s action off Grenada. Bateman was court-martialed and dismissed the service at New York some months later. In his case Rodney was implacable, and even allowed his feelings to carry him into what the officers of the court-martial thought undue interference and protested against with spirit. The Admiral had tomake something approaching an apology to the President of the Court, Sir Chaloner Ogle. With this and one other exception there were no courts-martial. Rodney knew that the Government was exceedingly anxious to avoid any repetition of the scandals which had followed the battle off Ushant. He did not himself wish to discredit the flag by publishing details of misconduct. For the rest, though his teeth were sharp, his bark was worse than his bite. In the course of these months he tells his wife a story which shows that he was not implacable. A certain Captain —— had angered him by allowing his ship to get into a bad condition. Rodney had resolved to suspend him, and had actually gone on board with some hostile intentions. It happened that the captain’s wife and daughters were staying on board. Now the girls were such nice girls, and the mother was such an agreeable woman, and the whole family was so amiable, that the Admiral’s heart bled at the thought of bringing misery upon them. The old Adam of gallantry was too much for him. Rather than bring tears into the eyes of those sweet girls he let the service go for once, and contented himself with sending the ship home in charge of a convoy. It was well for Captain —— that his wife was above rubies, and that he had such children to parley with the enemy at the gate. As a rule, indeed, Rodney’s course was to get rid of captains whom he could not trust by sending them on convoy so soon as reinforcements from Europe enabled him to dispense with them.
The days immediately following the battle were spent in hard work. Although he had missed victory Rodney was not beaten, and determined to show theFrenchmen as much. He therefore resolutely kept the sea, and barred their road to Fort Royal. TheSandwichwas so battered that for twenty-four hours she was in danger of sinking. Rodney shifted his flag to theMontague. The damage was repaired at sea. As the French, who are driven to some straits to find victories at sea, have claimed April 17th as one, we may pardonably remind them that quiescence on the part of their admiral seems to show they were as badly mauled as we were. On the 20th, three days after the battle, the French reappeared to the north, but on finding the English waiting for them, made off at once. Guichen took his ships northward to the Dutch, and then neutral, island of St. Eustatius, where he was able to refit, which does not look like the conduct of an officer who felt conscious of superiority. After cruising for a few days longer in sight of Martinique, to the no small disturbance of the French colonists, Rodney, seeing that Guichen had retreated, went south himself to Santa Lucia, leaving frigates to watch Fort Royal. At Choque Bay he was able to get fresh water, to land his sick and wounded, and to complete his repairs.
On May 6th the look-out frigates reported that the French had reappeared; this time to the eastward of Martinique. Rodney at once put to sea with nineteen line-of-battle ships and two of fifty guns, turning to the windward of Santa Lucia by the north to meet the Frenchman. He had now an opportunity of doing what he told his wife greatly needed to be done—namely, of teaching his captains to be officers. “Every captain in this fleet,” he once said to Gilbert Blane, “thinks himself fit to be Prime Minister of Great Britain.” TheAdmiral was resolved to show them that they should not disobey, or show a want of promptitude in obeying, the orders of George Brydges Rodney. He set resolutely to work to bring them to a proper degree of smartness. While he was manœuvring in front of Guichen the days were passed in tacking in succession or tacking together, in wearing in succession or together, in forming column and forming line. Whenever a ship was out of her station her signal was made, and she was publicly rebuked without regard to the seniority of her captain, or to the fact that she carried an admiral’s flag. Rodney even threatened to hoist his flag in a frigate in order to observe the line from a distance the better. It is easy to understand that such schooling was disagreeable to old captains who thought themselves masters of their profession. Rodney’s second in command, Sir Hyde Parker, a thorough seaman and solid fighter of the old stamp, was wrought by it into a state of sullen fury. When he returned to England a few months later he was with difficulty restrained by Sandwich from rushing into a pamphleteering attack on his late commander. For the present, however, there was nothing for it but obedience. At the end of a few days the lesson had been taught, and the English squadron manœuvred with the precision of Frederick’s grenadiers. Rodney might have found a more excellent way. If he had had more of the kindly good-fellowship of Nelson, if he had been wont to talk things over and explain his ideas to his captains, to get the wild ducks out after dinner and work out problems, it might have been better for his glory. But this was not Rodney’s way. He lived apart from his captains, whom he generally regarded as hissocial inferiors—neither asking for their friendship nor giving them his—asking only for that implicit obedience which he was ready to render to his own official superiors. As a natural consequence he got obedience, but he won none of that loyal devotion which bound Collingwood, or Hallowell, or Hoste to Nelson. His relations to his subordinates were always strained. They knew that he expected them to act only on his order, therefore they would do just what they were ordered and nothing more. He could never shut up his signal-book as Nelson could, with the confidence that he had instilled his spirit into his captains and could trust them to act in it. On Rodney’s part, however, it is only fair to remember that the relations of Nelson to his captains were exceptional, and would not have been possible unless he had been absolutely sure of their spirit of discipline. In the American War the bonds of discipline required to be tightened, and Rodney did well to tighten them. To say that he could not temper command by good-fellowship, that he could order but could not inspire, is to say that he had not the genial temperament of the very greatest stamp of leader, of a Nelson or of a Gustavus Adolphus, to whom, king as he was, all soldiers were brothers, who knew that his personal influence would give him all the superiority he wanted. To that race Rodney did not belong.
The second phrase, as the fencing men would say, of the duel with Guichen was pure manœuvring on both sides—mere doubling and disengaging. The Frenchman, who had the advantage of the wind when they met, took care not to lose it, and though he had a distinct superiority in number of ships, would not force on abattle. According to the French historians it was the English admiral who avoided action. It does not seem to strike them as absurd that, if it were so, Guichen did not bear down, and either force him to stand, or chase him ignominiously into Santa Lucia, as on this supposition he could have done. The facts show that Guichen was by no means anxious for a close fight. He would come down in line of battle to just out of gunshot, and there parade in defiance much as a mischievous boy might flaunt a red rag at a bull from the safe side of a fence; but so soon as the English seemed to be coming into striking distance the French worked up to windward at once. “They kept,” said Rodney, “an awful distance.” It was a somewhat risky game, for the fence was not quite permanent. Though the trade wind blows from the east it does not blow always from the same point of east, and a slight shift in it might enable Rodney to get to windward. Once it did give him the chance, but only for a moment. Then it dropped back and the Frenchman slipped off. During the fortnight in which the two fleets were zigzagging in front of one another, the Frenchman always breaking measure, to take to fencing language again, so soon as the English were within lunging distance, there were two partial actions, one on the 15th the other on May 19th. On one if not on both of these occasions the English fleet could have forced on a battle by steering into the rear of the French line, and so cutting off the last three or four ships. If this had been done Guichen must either have left his tail behind him like the lizard, or have fought a real battle. But Rodney was not prepared to break away from the old system of tactics asyet. He could only use it with more tactical judgment than his contemporaries. These actions, therefore, presented no particular novelty, and were thoroughly feeble. At last the two fleets separated by mutual consent. Both were in fact in a very bad condition. The use of copper sheathing was only coming in among ourselves. The French had not begun to use it. Ships, being unprotected against barnacles and worms, grew rapidly foul and leaky. Some of Rodney’s were in an almost sinking state, and Guichen’s were not in better case. Finally, the admirals were glad enough to separate, and return to port on May 21st. Guichen steered for Fort Royal round the north end of Martinique, Rodney sent three ships into Santa Lucia, and then made his way with the bulk of his fleet to Barbadoes, in order to be on the spot if the French should persevere in their designs on that island.
Practically this was the end of the measuring of swords between Rodney and Guichen. There was no further fighting or attempts to fight among the Lesser Antilles that year. Hardly had Rodney reached Carlisle Bay in Barbadoes before he received news which materially altered the position. It was brought by Captain Mann of theCerberus, who, while cruising off Cadiz early in the month, had sighted a large convoy under the protection of a squadron of line-of-battle ships steering to the west. He followed them in the hope of cutting off one of the merchant ships, and so learning more about them. The enemy was too vigilant, but he saw enough to convince him that this was a Spanish force on its way to the West Indies. Captain Mann used his discretion in the right way. He left his station and hurried with thenews to the Antilles. Soon other messages to the same effect arrived from Commodore Johnstone’s squadron on the coast of Portugal. Rodney made all possible haste to sea and resumed his cruising to windward of Martinique. But the Spanish commander, Don Jose Solano, was a more capable man than Langara. He had foreseen the possibility that the English might be at sea on this station, and therefore steered farther to the north so as to enter by the Saints’ Passage between Dominica and Guadaloupe. Then he anchored in Prince Rupert’s Bay in Dominica, and there waited to be joined by Guichen. The meeting was effected, and the force of the enemy thereby raised to thirty-six line-of-battle ships. It was hopeless to attempt an attack on such a force, and Rodney made at once for Gros Islet Bay in Santa Lucia. He moored his fleet under the protection of batteries, and fortified Pigeon Island. The measure was destined to be the salvation of the station in the next year, but for the present its worth was not put to the test. The Spaniards were as usual much more a hindrance than a help to their allies. They had the plague on board, and were dying like sheep with the rot, or as they say themselves—say with less than their habitual felicity of expression—como chinchas, which, saving the reader’s reverence, are bugs. This great force therefore did nothing. Don Jose was so cowed by the wretched state of his squadron that he insisted on being convoyed to San Domingo by Guichen. From thence he made the best of his way to Havannah. No wonder that French and English naval officers alike prayed that they might have the Spaniard as an enemy but never as a friend. As soon as he had seen his burdensome allieswell into the Bahama Channel, Guichen, who knew that his squadron was worn out and saw the hurricane months close on him, left the West Indies. After touching on the coast of the insurgent colonies he, to the bitter disappointment of the rebels, insisted on sailing for Europe. The West Indies were thus practically clear of enemies.
In the meantime Rodney had been waiting for the attack which never came. Early in July he was reinforced by a squadron from England under the command of Captain Walsingham, but it was now too late to do anything. The hurricane months were just beginning. A very rude rhyme has been formed to aid the mariner’s memory, and it limits the hurricane season with reasonable accuracy—
June too soon,July stand by,August look out you must,September remember,October all over.
June too soon,July stand by,August look out you must,September remember,October all over.
June too soon,July stand by,August look out you must,September remember,October all over.
In this July Rodney decided to leave waters in which nothing could now be done. He sent the trading ships, which had collected for convoy, to Europe under charge of Sir Hyde Parker and those of his captains whom he desired might be better strangers to him in future. Rowley and Walsingham were ordered to Jamaica. The safety of the Lesser Antilles was provided for sufficiently, and then he sailed for Sandy Hook himself with ten line-of-battle ships and a frigate.
The campaign of 1780 had done nothing to diminish the reputation Rodney had gained by the relief of Gibraltar. He was not held responsible for the failureto win on April 17th, or the subsequent failure to force Guichen into close action in May. Although what fighting there had been was but indecisive, the substantial results were considerable. All attacks on the English islands had been stopped, and although no effective counter-stroke had been delivered at the French, yet we had remained masters of the field of battle at the end in spite of the enemy’s superior numbers. To be sure the sufferings of the Spaniards from the plague had helped us materially, but they were the consequences of a dirty inefficiency in our foes which would one day, when opportunity and faculty combined, give us a decisive victory. At home, therefore, Rodney’s fame was great. He was being sung into immortality by ballad-mongers. His lady was highly complimented by the King in frequent Drawing-room. Other rewards of a more substantial kind were not wanting. When the thanks of the House were voted him for the relief of Gibraltar, his friends had, with more zeal than judgment, moved that the King should be petitioned to grant him a pension. With almost incredible want of taste they made much of the Admiral’s notorious pecuniary embarrassments. The motion was opposed by North as irregular, and even indecent. It was certainly unnecessary. A pension with remainder to his children was granted, and would certainly in any case have been granted by the King.
Rodney’sdecision to go to New York was not a hasty one. It was part of a scheme which had long matured in his mind. When he was applying for command during the summer and autumn of 1778 he had written several papers to Sandwich, giving his views of the principles on which the naval war should be conducted by us in the West Indies and on the coast of North America. They show a power of looking at warlike operations as a whole, and a sense of the vital importance of plan and aim which cause some doubt whether the Admiralty made the best use it could of his services when it appointed him to a command at sea. The capital defect of our management at that time was precisely the want of coherence in our operations which Rodney could have supplied. If instead of sending him to the West Indies the Government had given him the post which was to have been held by Collingwood, and was actually filled by Lord Keith in Napoleon’s time—if it had named him commander-in-chief with his headquarters at Portsmouth, and had given him a general control over the movements of squadrons—we might have been the poorer for one great victory, but our navywould have been used with a definiteness of aim which was conspicuously wanting in fact. This, however, could not be, and the next best post was the one he actually held. In the West Indies Rodney was at hand to help our commanders on the American coast. His plan was to act against the French in the Antilles during the spring and early summer with vigour enough to keep them well employed, then, when the hurricane months made cruising too dangerous in the West Indies, to proceed to the North American coast, and there, uniting all available forces, to strike hard at the insurgents. If the French followed they might be forced to fight a battle.
Acting on this plan Rodney sailed from the Antilles in July. He took this step on his own responsibility, though he had good general reason for believing that it would be approved. In this he was not mistaken. Sandwich highly approved, observing with much truth that unless His Majesty’s officers would “take the great line” nothing effectual would ever be done. He was right; but unfortunately it was somewhat difficult for His Majesty’s officers to take the great line effectually with such forces as they were supplied with and such inspiration as they received from home. Our military forces were ridiculously inadequate to the work they had to do, and were moreover divided as if to make the utmost of their weakness. Clinton was holding on to New York with one half of the army. Cornwallis and the other half were fighting in the Southern States with a valour, skill, and success which, ungrateful people that we are, we have too much forgotten. United under Cornwallis our army might have done something.Divided it could only stand at bay, or at best carry on a guerrillero warfare which might be, and was, brilliantly successful for a time, but was none the less doomed to be futile in the long run. Rodney could do nothing to remedy the defective management of the land forces. He had little chance to use his squadrons with effect. The departure of Guichen had made it impossible for the enemy to keep the sea. Their squadron which did remain on the coast kept close in Rhode Island Harbour, where it had the protection of powerful batteries and of an American force. Clinton declined to co-operate in an attack, alleging that the enemy’s works were too strong, and that the time had gone by in which anything could be effected against them. He laid the blame of failure to act sooner on Arbuthnot, the admiral on the station. Arbuthnot attributed it to the sloth and stupidity of Clinton. There was a great deal to be said on both sides, for the soldier though brave, now and then active, and a “good drill,” was a wooden personage; and the sailor, though no one ever questioned his courage, and he was doubtless able to manage a ship, was a quarrelsome, narrow-minded, selfish man. Rodney could do little except comment on the miserable management of the war and stimulate the activity of our cruisers against the Yankee privateers. He was moreover in ill health himself—compelled to remain much on shore at New York, complaining bitterly of the damp and cold of the climate. His presence in irresistible force on the coast served to depress the rebels, then at the lowest point of their fortune. Nothing, however, was done, or could be done, to really weaken the immense essential strength of the American position.
The sad truth is, that the chief outcome of his presence on the station was a violent quarrel with Arbuthnot. This officer, who was his inferior in rank, resented his arrival from the West Indies deeply. He thought it mean in a brother admiral to come and spoil the fun—to come, in plain words, and take the prize-money. A miserable interest of the pocket was at the bottom of this as of so many naval quarrels. To the good of the public service Arbuthnot seems never to have given a thought. All he cared to see was that the arrival of a senior officer on the station would deprive him of the commander-in-chief’s share of every prize. Indeed he had very soon practical demonstration of this unpleasant truth. Shortly after Rodney’s arrival one of the frigates which he had taken over from Arbuthnot captured a vessel laden with arms and stores for the rebels. The admiral’s share of the prize-money was £3000, and that Rodney pocketed with punctuality and despatch, thereby driving Arbuthnot into an explosion of fury worthy of Hawser Trunnion. Rodney’s own view is given by himself in a letter to Jackson the Secretary of the Admiralty. He points out that if he had looked to money only he might have made a lucrative cruise on the Spanish main, but “tho’ the hand of adversity and the base ingratitude of individuals had learnt me the value of Riches, it has not, or ever shall, eradicate from my mind the Duty I owe my King and Country.” He would not cruise for money only, but if in the fair way of duty he came where money was, he would take every sixpence to which he had a right. Arbuthnot was sulky and rude. He made difficulties and sent home complaints; but he had to deal with aman who was resolute to be obeyed. “I find myself, my dear Sir,” wrote Rodney again to Jackson, “a Butt for Envy and Mallice. I had rather have Envy than Pity. I will go on and endeavour by exerting myself in the Service of my King and Country to deserve more Envy and more Mallice. It cannot hurt me for I am resolved to do my Duty, and no Rank whatever shall screen any officer under me who does not do his Duty. The Good, the Worthy, the truly Brave officer will love and Honour me, others are unworthy my notice. All shall be treated like gentlemen, and none under my command shall ever have reason to tax me with Disrespect to them; but I will be the Admiral.” This, as Sandwich might have said, was “the great line.” Rodney was in the right, and was supported by ministers. If their support had gone to the length of superseding Arbuthnot it would have been the better for the public service in the following year.
A quarrel about money affords a convenient opportunity for reverting to Rodney’s own financial position. It had been materially bettered at the expense of the enemies of his King and country. His letters to his wife during these months contain satisfactory references to the speed with which his prize-money was enabling him to clear off the worst of his debts and provide for his family. There was another purpose for which funds were greatly needed. When he sailed at the end of 1779 Rodney had told his wife that a naval officer who wished for proper support must have a seat in Parliament. So soon, therefore, as the first creditors were satisfied—none, let us hope, were paid sooner than the Drummonds—he forwarded funds to Sandwich for thepurchase of a seat. By the decision of his friend, apparently, he was put up for Westminster, and Sandwich was able to inform him in September that the funds having come to hand in time, “the free and independent” had duly returned him at the head of the poll. It is curious that he, a thorough-going supporter of the Administration and a “King’s friend,” stood with Fox, the bitterest of all the critics of Lord North’s Cabinet, who was destined to be a member of the very Ministry which recalled Rodney himself from the West Indies in 1782 with contumely.
At the close of 1781 he sailed again for the West Indies, and arrived early in December after a stormy passage. During his absence the station had been swept by one of the most dreadful hurricanes on record. It burst on October 10th, when, according to sea lore, it ought to have been “all over.” Not only was it late, but it was far-reaching. Barbadoes had been supposed to lie beyond the track of the hurricane, but this year it was terribly smitten. Plantations were desolated, and the very fortifications were blown down. The other islands were no more fortunate, and a whole squadron of war-ships was cast away or so shattered as to need a complete refit. The French islands suffered as severely as our own. The greatness of the disaster cowed both sides for a time into fellow-feeling. Spanish prisoners at Barbadoes exerted themselves “like friends” to help their captors, and were effusively thanked by the Governor. Bouillé, at Martinique, sent back some shipwrecked English seamen, declaring that he could not consider the victims of such a misfortune as prisoners of war.
This subdued mood could not last. Rodney was not likely to allow himself to be stopped by sentiment. In December he had his squadron in good trim again. He decided to see whether an effective stroke could not be delivered at the French. St. Vincent seemed to present an opportunity. The island was reported to have suffered seriously from the hurricane, and the fortifications were said to be entirely ruined. As the island lies directly to the south of Santa Lucia, and had been taken from us by the French early in the war, the temptation to attempt something on it was irresistible. A body of troops, under General Vaughan, was embarked on the squadron, and the combined force went south in good hope. But the expedition was a failure. The reports as to the damage done by the hurricane turned out to have been grossly exaggerated. The fortifications were found to be intact, and far too strong to be taken except by regular siege, for which Vaughan had neither men nor battering-train. After a few days’ stay on shore the soldiers were re-embarked, and the squadron returned to Gros Islet Bay.
Its stay here was not long. Reinforcements were coming, and there was work of a tempting kind to be done. The reinforcements included the prizes Rodney himself had taken from the Spaniards. We had sheathed them in copper, and they were among the finest ships afloat. Samuel Hood, who has been named as having served under Rodney in the attack on Havre as captain of theVestaltwenty-two years earlier, and had just been promoted rear-admiral, was in command. He had been expressly chosen in the hope, which was not to be disappointed, that he would prove a capable second. Samuel Francis Drake, who was as yet only commodore, but was soon to be rear-admiral,was third. Captain Edmund Affleck came next to them in seniority. The names of these three will be found conspicuous during the remainder of Rodney’s fighting. Hood arrived in January, 1781, and in that month there came also orders to set about a piece of work which Rodney undertook in joy and hope, not foreseeing that it was destined to prove to him the source of infinite worry, of bitter attacks, of loss of credit, and of loss of lawsuits, which reduced him in his old age to the poverty which he had just shaken off.
Owing to a variety of causes which do not directly interest us, Holland had been drawn into the war. Orders, dated December 20th, came out to Rodney and to General Vaughan to seize the island of St. Eustatius, which, with St. Martin and Saba, belonged to the Dutch.
To quite understand all the enterprise was destined to mean to Rodney, it is necessary to take into account the position of St. Eustatius. This island, with its even less favoured sisters St. Martin and Saba, is little better than a mass of barren rock. It lies far up in the Lesser Antilles between Barbuda and Santa Cruz, just north-west of our own island of St. Christopher or St. Kitts. As it has little native wealth, the Dutch with their usual good business faculty made a free port of it, hoping that traders glad to be free from the severe colonial trade legislation of those days would use it as an open mart. They were not disappointed, and the island had always had a kind of prosperity as a place of exchange. The outbreak of the rebellion in the plantations gave an immense impulse to its industry. When direct trade with the insurgent plantations was stopped it was very soon found by both sides that this measure of hostilityhad its inconveniences. If, for instance, Americans were not to be allowed to export cotton and tobacco to punish them for rebellion, Englishmen could only inflict the castigation by depriving themselves of tobacco and cotton. The West Indies were nearly touched by a cessation of trade, for the planters were in the habit of importing the maize and bacon on which they fed their slaves from the North American plantations. If they were deprived of these the slaves would starve; if the slaves starved the islands would be ruined; if the islands were ruined the loss to England would be enormous. Our fathers, though high-spirited, were practical men. Patriotic emotion and the unity of the Empire were good, but they must not, it was spontaneously felt, be made to mean the loss of cheap cotton, the second qualities of snuff, good pipe tobacco, and the sugar trade. A compromise had to be made between our principles and our necessities. It was found by granting permission for the importation of American produce through St. Eustatius. The inevitable result was to throw the whole trade between England or her West Indian Islands and the plantations into the market-place of St. Eustatius. The island sprang for a day into the prosperity of Tyre and Sidon. There the English merchant and the West Indian planter met the Yankee trader, and they dealt with one another. There, too, they met and traded with the men of the French islands with whom they could no longer directly deal. Vast rows of warehouses arose like mushrooms and were rented for immense sums. Alongside of this trade there arose another. Given the natural inclination of mankind to sell in the dearest market, it was inevitable that agreat business in contraband of war should be carried on in such a favoured spot. St. Eustatius became in fact what our own island of Nassau in the Bahamas was during the American Civil War—a depot for the articles classed under that name. Finally, it may be noted that great numbers of our own West Indian planters and merchants, particularly those of St. Kitts, endeavoured to secure their goods from the risk of capture by the French by storing them in a neutral island.
In fact the place was as useful to us as it could be to our enemies. But when war broke out with Holland it was decided to seize upon it as a matter of course. To Rodney no order could be more agreeable. He had long regarded St. Eustatius with particular hatred as the place from which our enemies drew most of their stores, and also as the place in which traitors to their King and country were base enough to trade with rebels. The opportunity for an attack was very good. The Spaniards were either lying at Havannah or wasting themselves in petty attacks on our garrisons in Florida. Only four French line-of-battle ships were at Fort Royal. On January 30th Rodney, having shipped a force of soldiers under General Vaughan, sailed from Gros Islet Bay. After passing in front of Fort Royal, he left Drake with six ships to watch the Frenchman and steered directly for St. Eustatius. The place was surrounded on February 3rd, summoned, and taken at once. The Dutch governor, Graaf, having no soldiers and no forts, could only surrender at discretion. Rodney, who had had a sharp passage of arms with him before concerning a salute fired to the Yankee flag, had a particular joy in receiving his submission, and, it mustbe acknowledged, treated the poor man in a very high and mighty manner. The disasters of the Dutch did not end here. A convoy of one hundred and thirty sail had left a few days before under the protection of a ship of sixty guns. It was followed by two seventy-fours and a frigate, which easily seized it all after a very brief action in which the Dutch admiral, Krull, was killed, fighting at hopeless odds for the honour of the flag.
So far all seemed well. The booty taken was estimated at the magnificent figure of three millions sterling. Rodney announced that everything taken should be at the King’s mercy. The news was sent home at once, and received with much huzzaing and throwing up of caps. A great blow had been struck at the low-minded Dutch, and the people rejoiced therefore. Lady Rodney and Sandwich hastened to tell the Admiral how delighted everybody was with him. The King resigned all his rights to the officers of his sea and land service. A great cry of rage and disappointment went up from the French islands and the rebellious colonies, which was meat and drink to Rodney. For some time his letters are literally overpowering with triumph over the splendid blow he had struck at the enemies of his country and the traitors who dealt with them. But the somewhat of bitter which is proverbially seldom absent from human joys was soon found to be mixed with this cup also. In the fire of his zeal Rodney had been neither to bind nor to hold. He had confiscated immense quantities of property belonging to British subjects—to the planters of St. Kitts in particular. He had forgotten that the King could neither take nor give away more than his right. The letter in which George the Thirdresigned all his own claims contained a clause specially exempting the property of his subjects engaged in legitimate trade from seizure. It would have been well for Rodney’s happiness if he had paused to think what those words meant. It would have been well too for his reputation if he had remembered how careful it behoved a man, whose friends had paraded his poverty in the House of Commons, to be before he laid hands on money. He thought of nobody and nothing except the joy of trouncing enemies and traitors, and the happiness of at last getting prize-money enough to wipe all debt off, and leave something for his dear children.
In this frame of mind he remained for some time. When the planters of St. Kitts sent their attorney-general to state their case, he refused, rash man, to discuss the matter with a lawyer. The profession was amply avenged, for Rodney had to listen to many lawyers in the Admiralty Court, of which he appears to have totally forgotten the existence until reminded by writs. The Jews, who abounded in the island, were stripped to the skin and sent packing. The Dutch had surrendered at discretion, and were treated after the manner of Alaric. To the French, who were open enemies, Rodney showed more consideration. They were allowed to go with bag and baggage. Bouillé, who was furious, wrote angry letters, and he and Rodney, as Burke put it, defied one another in the highest style of chivalry. In this respect, however, Rodney’s conduct was, in diplomatic phrase, perfectly correct, and he stuck stoutly to his guns. Correct also was his conduct in respect to the naval stores, in spite of the charges brought against him later on. He sent themall to the King’s arsenals. As for the other goods, with the exception of a very small part which was returned to English owners, they were soldsub hasta. The island, in the words of theAnnual Register, “became one of the greatest auctions that ever was opened in the universe.” All comers, except the late owners, were permitted to bid, and the goods were knocked down to the highest bidder—often, such was the glut in the market, at a third or quarter of their price. The buyers were permitted to take them away subject to a few restrictions imposed to prevent the transport of provisions to the French islands. The money was stored partly in the flag-ship, partly in the island, which was to be fortified, and provided with a garrison. What goods could not be sold, or were likely to prove more profitable in England, were laden on a great convoy, which was to have sailed under the command of Affleck, and did actually sail under Hotham. At this work Rodney remained till the beginning of May.
It is impossible, I am afraid, to acquit the Admiral of great want of judgment, and, what is worse, of inability to resist the temptation to look after his own pocket too eagerly, in the whole course of this transaction. His folly in taking upon himself to decide what was and what was not lawful prize was of course glaring. It carried its own punishment. Every man who knew he had a case brought an action against him in the Admiralty Court. One after another they went against him, and he was compelled to refund. What made this the more disastrous for him was, that the great convoy from which he hoped for so much fell into the hands of La Motte Picquet, who was cruising at the mouth of theChannel, and was almost wholly carried into Brest. The island of St. Eustatius was retaken by Bouillé, and immense booty lost there. Rodney had therefore to satisfy the claims of the suitors out of the remnants of his prizes and his other means. The drain left him a poor man to the end of his days. His family biographer, who has given a narrative of these events marked by judicious suppressions, complains that the Admiral was deserted by his official superiors. Some English merchants whom Rodney sent home as prisoners to be tried for unlawful dealings with the rebels were, it seems, released at once in England, and their books, alleged to be full of criminating evidence, were quietly returned by Lord George Germaine, the Secretary of State. But Rodney ought to have remembered that in any case it would rest with ministers to decide whether the accused men were to be tried for treason or not, and that it was mad in him to act as if they had been actually tried and condemned. I am afraid that zeal for the public service cannot be successfully pleaded in his defence. This could have been provided for by keeping the goods under lock and key till they were adjudicated on. Besides, the ugly fact remains that Rodney sold the goods for the benefit of himself and the other captors. It is true that he afterwards declared he had no idea they would be given up by the King. But this was said in the House of Commons, and can, to speak frankly, only be accepted as true in a Parliamentary sense. Rodney cannot possibly have been ignorant that in such cases the King commonly did resign his rights. The course he took can only be made intelligible by supposing that his hatred of the rebels, combined with theprospect of escaping for ever from poverty, overpowered his common sense.
The results of the capture of St. Eustatius were evil for his fame directly and indirectly. The attacks made on him in Parliament will be dealt with later on. We need not pay much attention, or any indeed, to the charges brought against him by French historians. It is amusing to note the unction with which the countrymen of Napoleon’s marshals lift their hands in horror over the misdeeds of the British Admiral. But in Rodney’s own fleet the effect was bad, and it is certain that, till he left the West Indies in July, the course of events was unfavourable to England. There exists a series of letters from Hood to Jackson of the Admiralty, begun about this time, which is painful reading. From it we can only conclude that Hood, brave man and brilliant officer as he was, was guilty of the meanest backbiting, or that Rodney forgot duty and honour alike in his eagerness to collect the booty. If the accuser is to be believed, the Admiral went very near repeating the famous trick attributed to Sir Henry Morgan the Buccaneer, who, it is said, persuaded his fellow “brothers of the coast” to entrust him with all their booty, and then ran away with it. Rodney, said Hood, carried vast sums of money to his flag-ship, and never rendered any account of them. Alongside of this, minor charges such as that Rodney would not allow his subordinate to write home, in order that people might be kept in ignorance of what was going on, sink into insignificance. All this may be discounted, for naval men, though a heroic race, pay their tribute to human weakness like others. They are sadly addictedto grumbling and, as Rodney himself said later on, naturally censorious. Hood, however, did not speak only for himself. What he thought was thought by others. There never was any open breach between the men. Hood always obeyed orders punctually, but their mutual civility thinly covered a very genuine hostility.
It cannot be honestly denied that the course of events did often justify the criticisms of Hood. Shortly after the capture of St. Eustatius, Rodney was informed from home that a great French armament was preparing at Brest for the West Indies. It was to be commanded by Grasse. The Admiral at once sent Hood to take command off Fort Royal, raising the blockading force at the same time to fifteen sail of the line and five frigates. The object was to prevent the junction of the four ships in the port with the fleet coming from Europe. At a later period, when he was assailed in Parliament for not going to Martinique, Rodney justified his decision to remain at St. Eustatius by saying that Hood was as fit to command as he was himself. In the course of the blockade he had occasion to commend his subordinate highly for the sagacity he showed in refusing to be decoyed off his station by a false report of the appearance of the enemy elsewhere. Unfortunately he did not draw from Hood’s fitness the obvious deduction that he ought to be left to fight in his own way if he was to be left in command. He yielded to what for some men is the irresistible temptation to direct operations from a distance. Napoleon was in this sort a notable sinner, and in his as in all cases this interference was the mother of confusion which is the mother of failure. Onlythe man on the spot can tell what ought to be done at the moment, and he cannot act with effect if his hands are to be tied by a distant superior who does not know the facts.
In this case there was certainly failure, and, what is worse, failure foretold by Hood. He wrote to Rodney pointing out that the set of wind and current to the west made it very difficult for him to keep close to Fort Royal. An enemy coming from the eastward could, he said, hug the coast of Martinique, and slip into Fort Royal in spite of him. He therefore asked leave to cruise to windward of the island, where he would be on the track of Grasse and in a position to compel him either to fight a decisive battle or to give up the attempt to reach Fort Royal. The leave was refused. Rodney expressed a fear that the four ships in the harbour would slip out and attack our possessions, or, which had been even worse, might fall on him at St. Eustatius. The fear seems to me exaggerated. Even if the operations of the French had been bolder than they usually were, it was not likely that they would risk four ships in the middle of twenty at a time when they knew that reinforcements were coming. Hood bitterly jeered in his letters at the Admiral’s fear for his plunder.
Whatever Rodney’s motives may have been, the misfortune which Hood had foretold actually happened on April 28th. Grasse turned up to the north of Martinique with twenty sail of the line and a great convoy. Hugging the land closely he slipped along the shore inside of the English squadron. Hood had been reinforced and could dispose of nineteen sail, but he was to leeward in the westerly current and the treacherouslight breezes which prevail under the land. He could not work up to windward. Grasse was joined by the four ships in Fort Royal, which gave him a great superiority of force. There followed on the 29th and 30th two days of confused and distant fighting. The French admiral declared that the English admiral ran away. The English admiral asserted in good set terms that the bragging Frenchman would not come down like a man. After an immense outlay of powder and shot, Hood, finding that the enemy had united his forces, that one of his own ships was in a sinking state, and that all were in want of stores, gave up the now impossible blockade, and hastened to join Rodney in the north.
With this misfortune all our superiority of position and numbers vanished away. Rodney was thoroughly savage, and hinted pretty intelligibly that Hood had manœuvred so as to fulfil his own prophecy—a monstrous charge, which he did not venture to press. It is to be hoped for his honour that his conscience pricked him. Whether he or Hood was right as to the best way of meeting Grasse, there can, I should imagine, be only one opinion on the question whether his conduct during these months was worthy of his renown or of his actions before and afterwards. At a time when a great hostile force was approaching the station committed to his care, the proper place for an English admiral was at sea and at the head of his fleet. He should not have remained on shore with the auctioneer’s hammer in his hand superintending the sale of his booty amid surroundings redolent of the redoubted Sir Henry Morgan. His health was indeed bad, but it did not prevent him fromputting to sea when informed of the arrival of Grasse. Besides, if it had been so shaken as to make him incapable of command, he was all the more bound not to interfere with the officer whom he left in the post of danger and honour. On the whole, one has to come back to the view that Rodney’s eyes had been dazzled and his better nature corrupted for the time by the fairy gold poured out before him at St. Eustatius.
During the two and a half months which remained before the return of the hurricane season everything went wrong. The English admirals met on May 9th between Montserrat and Antigua. It was necessary to take Hood’s battered ships into harbour in the latter island to refit. While they were so occupied the French were busy. Grasse was, no doubt, a less wary and skilful tactician than Guichen. He had faults of character which proved his ruin—faults which may be all collected under that untranslatable French wordsuffisance; but he was a clever officer. In Bouillé he had an ally of extraordinary energy. The two combined to carry out an aggressive campaign against our islands. While Rodney was refitting at Antigua, a double expedition sailed from Fort Royal. The larger part, under Grasse and Bouillé, was to attempt the recapture of Santa Lucia; the smaller, under a M. de Blanchelande, was to go south to Tobago. The attack on Santa Lucia failed, thanks, in part, to Rodney’s foresight in fortifying Pigeon Island; thanks also to the accidental arrival of several English frigates, whose captains landed their men to reinforce the garrison. Bouillé disembarked his soldiers and attacked in his usual fiery style, but our fortifications round Gros IsletBay were too strong, and the guns on Pigeon Island kept the French fleet off. Finding that the island could not be mastered so soon as they expected, Grasse and Bouillé re-embarked their men, and followed Blanchelande to Tobago.
In the meantime Rodney was hurrying south from Antigua. He was met at sea by news of the retreat of the French from Santa Lucia, but did not learn their course. Concluding that they would probably steer for Barbadoes, which had not yet recovered the effects of the great hurricane, he hastened there at once. On his arrival he was greeted by a despatch from Captain Fergusson, the Governor of Tobago, reporting the appearance of Blanchelande with the smaller French expedition. Rear-Admiral Drake was at once sent off with six sail to help defend the island. Soon after he had gone came news that the whole French fleet was on its way to Tobago. For a time there was great fear for Drake, but he discovered his danger in time and avoided it by speedy retreat. When he had rejoined the Admiral, the whole English force sailed for Tobago, and arrived in time to be too late. After a gallant resistance, Fergusson, who was well supported by the planters, had been compelled to surrender.
Rodney found the French at sea, standing to the north along the string of little islands called the Grenadines, between Grenada and St. Vincent. They were somewhat superior in force, but he expressed his readiness to fight. No battle, however, took place. According to Rodney the French manœuvred to draw him to leeward of St. Vincent, with the intention of getting between him and Barbadoes. According to Grasse,the English admiral, who being to eastward had the wind, made use of his advantage to avoid a battle. The French showed no eagerness to fight for their part. During the night they went back to Tobago. When Rodney discovered that they had vanished his fears for Barbadoes revived, and he returned there at once. Grasse after a short stay at Tobago returned to Fort Royal, and so ended that campaign.