The great bulk of the officers who had served King James passed over to his successor. A few, indeed, followed the exiled king, and among them was Sir Roger Strickland, who as a Roman Catholic was disqualified for office. Captain David Lloyd also adhered to his master, and was very busy during the years next ensuing in endeavouring to shake the new allegiance of his former brother-officers. In this, however, he had no success. In spite of discontent, and although some naval officers endeavoured to provide for their own safety in case of a restoration by sending promises to King James, the navy as a whole remained loyal.
The war now beginning lasted with an interval of truce between 1697 and 1702, until the signing of the Peace of Utrecht, in the reign of Queen Anne. It was in reality one continuous war waged by Europe in self-defence, and by France for the purpose of establishing the predominance of the house of Bourbon. The naval part of this struggle is divided into two periods. During the first, which lasted to the close of 1793, the French king kept great fleets at sea. After that date the exhaustion of his treasury through the calls made upon it by the land war rendered him incapable of meeting the allies at sea with equal forces. He was driven by penury to lay up his ships, and the war on the side of France was conducted by privateers. In this second period the allied fleets still kept the sea, swept the French coast, and co-operated with the armies.
When hostilities began in 1689, the first object of the French was to give assistance to King James in Ireland. The first duty of the English was to defeat his efforts, and then to cover the passage of our own forces. The Dutch had to protect their own commerce and to co-operate with us in the general purposes of the war.
The news that the French king was about to supply his cousin with the means of passing over to Ireland reached London early in March. A squadron was prepared to sail for the purpose of intercepting Gabaret, but it started too late. Herbert, who went in command without resigning his place as First Commissioner of the Admiralty, did not reach Cork until the 17th of April. All he could do now was to intercept whatever further help the French might be sending to the assistance of the Jacobites. He knew that a force was preparing at Brest under the command of the Count of Châteaurenault. Not finding any sign of this expedition on the coast of Ireland, Herbert stood over to Brest. Either at this time, or shortly afterwards, he detached George Rooke with a small squadron to the west of Scotland, for the double purpose of rendering what help he could to the Protestants of Ulster and preventing the French from sending help to the Scottish Jacobites. The wind was easterly on the coast of France, and Herbert failed to reach Brest in time, or to approach it close enough to prevent Châteaurenault from sailing with a fleet of vessels of from 40 to 60 guns, 5 fireships, and a number of transports carrying 6000 soldiers. Finding that the French had escaped him, Herbert returned to the south coast of Ireland, and was off Cork on the 29th April. The French fleet were seen in the neighbourhood of Kinsale, and Herbert stood in to place himself between them and the coast. Châteaurenault made no attempt to land at Kinsale, but steered west for Bantry. At Baltimore, Herbert obtained information of his enemy’s destination. He at once pursued, but on rounding Cape Clear caught sight of the Frenchmen heading for Bantry Bay. This was on the afternoon of the 30th of April. The day being far advanced, Herbert did not follow Châteaurenault at once, but lay to all the night. The force under his command is variously stated as nineteen and twenty-two ships of the line. The average size of the English ships was about the same as the French.
On the 1st of May the wind was blowing off the land. Châteaurenault had disembarked as many of the soldiers as were carried in the men-of-war on the previous evening. But the transports were still undischarged, and had not yet been able to work up to the town of Bantry. Seeing that the English were somewhat, though not much, inferior in number to himself, the French admiral came to the very proper decision to engage. He got under way about half-past eleven, and stood down the Bay. As he had the weather-gage, he had the choice of attack. Herbert lay to to receive him. At the moment of getting under way the French fleet was in order of convoy, that is, in three parallel columns; Châteaurenault himself in the middle, with the van division under the command of Gabaret on one side, and the rear commanded by Forant on the other. When the order to draw into a line of battle was given, Gabaret should have stood on ahead, leaving a sufficient space for the admiral’s division between himself and Forant. But he moved so slowly and kept his wind at such a distance from the enemy that Châteaurenault in a fit of impatience crowded on sail, ran between the van division and the English, and took the place of van himself, thus leaving Gabaret to fall in behind and form the centre. In consequence of these misunderstandings the French line was in considerable disorder, which was increased by the fact that the narrow water of Bantry Bay left little room for manœuvring, and that the fleet was speedily compelled to tack. It would appear that these conditions ought to have afforded Herbert an opportunity for working to windward and forcing a close action with the enemy. It is, indeed, asserted that he made an attempt to gain the weather-gage, and could not do so because the French kept their wind so carefully. Thus the battle was confined to artillery fire at a considerable distance, and no great harm was done on either side. The French make an unfounded claim to have sunk an English ship. On the other hand, it is allowed that the French Diamant, Captain Coëtlogon, was set on fire. The biographer of Sir John Leake, who served in the battle as commander of the fireship Firedrake, claims the honour of this achievement for his hero. He says that the feat was performed by a “cushee piece” invented by Leake’s father, the Master-gunner of England. But the cushee piece was never heard of again, as Captain John Leake judged it to be as dangerous to its friends as its enemies, for which independence of judgment he was badly treated in the will of his indignant parent. The two fleets continued onwards in a disorderly way and firing at one another over a distance of twenty-one miles till they were off Dursey Head, then Châteaurenault, finding that he was being drawn out to sea, and remembering that he was answerable for the safety of the transports, returned to Bantry Bay. Herbert, satisfied that enough had been done, made for the general rendezvous of the fleet near the Scilly Isles, thereby leaving Châteaurenault free to complete the disembarkation of his soldiers, collect his transports, and return to Brest. His whole expedition had lasted only for eleven days, and was considered by the French a glorious success.
This estimate shows that the French took a modest view of what constituted success in naval operations. Châteaurenault, if he had pushed his attack home on Herbert, might have had some English prizes to show, and might have greatly encouraged the enemies of England, besides landing his soldiers and bringing off his transports. But he at least had some case. What is extraordinary, when we think what had been once the standard of the English navy, was that Herbert bragged of having gained a victory because he had not been routed by an enemy of slightly superior force, and that his countrymen, instead of laughing at him, or asking indignantly why he did not fight again, threw up their caps and huzzaed. The battle, and the praise given it, were melancholy signs of the poorness of spirit which had come over Englishmen since the Second Dutch War. It was the beginning of a dull method of doing work in the navy, happily never universal, but much too common, during the next half century or more. We see the French admiral intent on carrying out some operation other than attacking the English fleet, fighting a little, but with great care not to fight seriously. Opposite him is the English admiral, who has no idea that a decisive battle is possible unless the enemy is good enough to supply him with one, and perfectly ready to go off so soon as a few broken spars give him an excuse for saying enough has been done. Herbert went on from Scilly to Portsmouth. The king may not in his heart have thought much of the battle, but he knew the necessity of pleasing the naval officers and the great Tory party. He therefore professed himself satisfied, knighted two of the captains, John Ashby and Cloudesley Shovell, and made Herbert Earl of Torrington.
Rooke, on being detached by Herbert, had gone on at once to the west of Scotland. He was in the estuary of the Clyde in May, and for about a month was very active against King James’s partisan in the islands. On the 8th of June he was called off to escort Kirke, who had been detached with a body of troops for the purpose of raising the siege of Londonderry. Rooke’s squadron consisted of five vessels, one of which was the Dartmouth, now under the command of Leake, who had been promoted for his use of the cushee piece on the 1st of May. The squadron anchored in Rathlin Bay, and from thence went off to Lough Foyle, whence there is a clear waterway up to Londonderry. From what happened a month later, it may be taken for granted that nothing whatever prevented the smaller ships from being carried up to Londonderry, nothing, that is, except a want of goodwill and manhood on the part of Kirke and Rooke. Unfortunately, they were wanting. Rooke was indeed a brave man who did gallant service in later years. But his conduct in these weeks was not worthy of his later reputation. Kirke was a drunken, violent, foul-mouthed ruffian. It is idle to speculate what was passing in his head. He may not have been a mere coward, but he acted as if he had some hidden reason for not exerting himself. He held a council of war on board the Swallow, and it was decided that as there were not troops enough to operate against the enemy outside the town, nothing could be done, as if it would not have been much to carry provisions and a reinforcement of men into Londonderry. He retired to the Island of Inch, and there remained perfectly quiescent. Rooke in the meantime cruised in search of French privateers and Jacobite prizes. Whatever his motives may have been, his actions were those of a man who thought it no shame to fill his own pockets by prize-hunting while his countrymen were starving and fighting in desperation on the turf walls of Londonderry. At last, under the influence of pressing orders from England, it was decided to do something, and something was done in a way which covers with ignominy the memory of the officers who did not dare to act before. During the month of delay, due to their sloth or half-hearted treason, the besiegers had had time to throw up batteries on the banks of the Foyle, and to draw a boom across the river below Londonderry. The operation was therefore more difficult than it had been, and yet it was done with no great loss. On the 26th July the Dartmouth was told off to break the boom, and convoy two victuallers, the Mountjoy and the Phœnix, small vessels both belonging to Londonderry. Leake performed his work in a thoroughly officer-like fashion. So soon as the flood-tide began to run, and there was water enough to float the Dartmouth and victuallers, he stood into the mouth of the Foyle, with the Mountjoy and Phœnix, towing behind him the long boat of the Swallow. The Irish batteries opened fire, but the little squadron held on steadily, the Dartmouth giving all the cover she could to the merchant ships. Their progress was slow for the wind was light, and the tide was not yet running strongly. The Mountjoy reached the boom first, and was steered straight at it by her skipper Browning. The victualler had not enough way to break through the obstacle. She recoiled from the boom and tailed on shore, that is to say, she grounded stern first. The Irish raised a yell of gratification, and rushed down to the bank, where they opened a heavy fire on the Mountjoy. Browning was shot dead, but his men fired a broadside on the crowd. The shock, aided by the tide, floated the Mountjoy. In the meantime the long-boat towed by the Dartmouth had rowed up to the boom, and, undeterred by the musket fire from the banks, had cut through the ropes which held the spars together, and had made an opening. Then she towed the Phœnix in. The Mountjoy and the Dartmouth easily forced their way through the loosened spars. The disheartened besiegers broke up their camp and marched away. It was a gallant piece of work, well done by Leake and the merchant skippers, but the ease, and the trifling cost with which it was done, are lasting reproaches to Kirke and Rooke.
After the relief of Londonderry, Rooke had other important work to do in the Irish Sea. In August he covered the transport of Schomberg’s army to Ireland, and co-operated in the capture of Carrickfergus. Then he cruised down the coast, threatening the towns held for King James, and landing where the enemy was not too strong to be attacked. As the autumn drew on, and his ships became foul, Rooke came round to the Downs, and his squadron was laid up for the winter. In the meantime, the Grand Fleet of combined English and Dutch had cruised in the Channel under the command of Herbert, who was joined by Edward Russell. They looked into Brest, and cruised at the mouth of the Channel, going every now and then into Torbay for provisions. There were many complaints of the want of beer. At last, when the autumn had begun, the Grand Fleet also came back, and was laid up. It was still not thought prudent to keep the great ships out late in the autumn.
On a general survey of the operations of the year it cannot be said that either party had displayed much energy. The French fleet had done nothing proportionate to its pretensions and its paper strength. In 1692, the King of France was believed to possess 110 rated ships and 690 other vessels of war. This figure is of course absurd, unless we are to suppose that it included all the lighters and row boats employed in his harbours. The fleet carried 14,670 cannon, and was manned by 2500 officers and 97,500 men. We may presume that this estimate covers the dockyard workmen. Ninety-seven thousand five hundred men was more than the whole number of Frenchmen liable to be drawn by the classes, and it is very doubtful whether the French king ever had the service at sea of one-half of them at any given moment. Still, when all deductions are allowed for, this was a great force. It had done nothing in proportion to its size. There would have been no difficulty, considering that all Ireland except the north was in the hands of King James, in establishing a naval station at Bantry Bay, or even at Dublin, and from either of these ports the French could have done something effectual to stop the passage of Schomberg’s army. They were content to land their troops in Ireland, and then to return. But we certainly did very little to prevent them, and the feeble conduct of Herbert in the action of Bantry Bay promised very ill for the future.
The winter afforded the English Government an opportunity to prepare for a vigorous campaign, but it was neglected. The first joy over the Revolution was followed by a reaction. The two sections of the victorious party, the Whig and the Tory, began to quarrel and to struggle for predominance. These factions were nowhere more acutely felt than at the Admiralty. It is said by several authorities, and denied by nobody, that Herbert had fallen back into the dissolute habits of his early life. He was addicted to excesses which are ruinous to a man’s nerve and energy. It is certain that the work of the Admiralty was so badly done that the French privateers were very successful against our trade. In the new establishment of pay, made in 1694, it was said that the increase of salary was given in order that the officers might no longer be able to make their poverty an excuse for not doing their duty. Given the moral level of the Restoration and the Revolution, it is not incredible that captains, who were sulky at the loss of their table money, did refuse to exert themselves in defence of the merchant ships unless they were bribed. The old complaints of bad rations, bad pay, and bad beer were loud in the fleet. At last it was found necessary to make a change at headquarters. The existing Board of Admiralty was dissolved, and replaced by another with the Earl of Pembroke at its head. Torrington was very indignant, and threatened to resign the command of the fleet in the Channel. He was pacified with gifts, and then showed his zeal as an officer by staying in London to enjoy himself. He afterwards said that he had warned the Government that a larger fleet must be prepared, but did not take the effectual step of insisting upon resigning unless he was supplied with sufficient force.