Subordinate agents were required to work directly on the ships' companies under the direction of these two chiefs. During the summer of 1688 rumours that the Prince of Orange was about to intervene on behalf of the Protestant interest were rife. A small squadron was armed by the king and put under the command of Sir Roger Strickland, one of the few Roman Catholic officers amongst the seamen. The king, with characteristic folly, had chosen this gentleman to succeed Herbert as Rear-Admiral of England. Strickland appears, from the little that is known of him, to have had no more tact or practical faculty than his master. He endeavoured to cause mass to be said in his ships, with the immediate result that the crews threatened to throw the priests overboard. This was too much even for the king. He did not indeed remove Strickland from active service, but he appointed Dartmouth to command over him. The disposition of the crews must have shown the conspirators that it would be no very difficult task to make the fleet useless to the king, and the history of the movements of the squadron show that they were perfectly successful. The immediate agents of the enemies of King James seem to have been two: the higher in rank, but not the most effectual, was Captain Aylmer, afterwards Lord Aylmer; the other was George Byng, the first lieutenant of the Defiance, then commanded by Captain Ashby. Byng behaved in a manner to justify the praise given him in Lord Hervey's Memoirs, namely, that "he had been in his youth a resolute, able, enterprising fellow; mercenary and knowing in his business."
Sir Roger Strickland hoisted his flag in August, and he had then with him twenty-six vessels. They were very ill manned, and Strickland asked that soldiers might be sent to fill up his crews. It may be that Strickland distrusted the spirit of his command. At anyrate, the plan of action he proposed was not one likely to occur to a bold man who felt confident that his squadron would fight. After consulting with his captains, he proposed to the king to lie at the Gunfleet, with an advance squadron on the coast of Holland. This was rightly rejected by King James. A squadron at the Gunfleet would have been nearly helpless against a Dutch fleet standing across the North Sea with an easterly wind, and it was only when the wind was from this quarter that an attack was to be feared. Strickland was ordered to station himself between the North Sands Head and Kentish Knock, to keep under sail by day, and only to anchor at night. It was while on this station that he nearly provoked a mutiny in his fleet, by causing mass to be performed. A stronger squadron and a stronger admiral were both needed. Dartmouth was sent to command, and the force of twenty-six ships was raised to sixty-one, of which thirty-eight were of the line-of-battle class. They were still ill manned, partly, no doubt, for the usual reasons, that men could not be got except by the press, and the press acted slowly. But there were other causes at work. The king's officers were loath to attract ill-will at a time when their master's danger was patent to everybody but himself. Then, too, numbers of English sailors had made their way across the North Sea, and were preparing to man the ships of the Prince of Orange under the command of Russell and Herbert. Even if the ships had been well manned, there was a fatal cause of weakness within. The Memoirs of Byng, published a few years ago, have enabled us to get a glimpse of the means taken to bring the fleet over to the side of the Revolution. His biographer, who was no doubt supplied with information by himself, tells us that Byng had been early entrusted with the knowledge of what was doing. At a meeting at which the Duke of Ormonde, General Kirke, and Captain Aylmer were present in London, Byng was especially charged with the duty of bringing over his own captain, Ashby of the Defiance, and Captain Wolfran Cornwall. Byng is honourably candid as to his own motives. Of the Protestant religion and the liberties of England he says not one syllable, but confines himself to telling us that "finding by further discourse that General Kirke, Mr. Russell, and other particular persons were going over to the Prince of Orange, he then became willing to agree to their undertaking." In plain English, he found that the king's Government was in great danger, and, being a resolute, able, enterprising fellow, he very sagaciously resolved to be on the winning side. With a modest distrust of his influence over his captain, he left Ashby to be dealt with by Aylmer. Yet, when Aylmer failed, he exerted himself. Ashby was finally persuaded to become a well-wisher to the cause. He had just declared "that in their profession they were not taught to turn against the king." It was only when Mr. Byng showed him "the dispositions of the most considerable persons in the fleet," that Ashby was induced to take up arms against the danger of Popish superstition. The conversion of Captain Cornwall was somewhat more difficult.
"Mr. Cornwall was more difficult to be persuaded from [his violence of temper and zeal for the king; and none but his most intimate friend coud undertake to mention it to him]; and in their discourse, Cornwall expressed the obligations of himself and family to the king, and thought it a villany in those who attempted anything against him. But when Mr. Byng named some persons that were engaged in it, that was his most intimate and particular friends [as Mr. Herbert, Kirk, Russell, etc., he was confounded, and upon his further naming a captain of the fleet who was a most intimate friend of his, and of whom he had the best opinion of as a very rightous person, he was surprised; but being told so by himself as they were at supper at night, here met for that purpose], he gave up his zeal for the king; and from that time no man was more heartily in the cause, using his endeavour to bring over severall in his own ship; and continued heartily attached to the Revolution principles to the day of his death."
These captains—and there were doubtless many like them—would have remained loyal to the king, if it had not been made clear to them that his Government was undermined. Since the broom was to be used, they decided that it was more prudent to be on the side of the handle. Dartmouth, who took command of his squadron on the 2nd of October, was personally loyal, but he was also weak. It may be that he was dimly aware of the spirit of his squadron, and feared to put its loyalty to the test. The obvious way to prevent the Prince of Orange from coming over was to station the squadron on the coast of Holland, and attack him as soon as he came to sea. In the westerly winds the English could return to their own coast for provisions, knowing that the Dutch could not put to sea; with the wind in the east it was safe for them to lie close up to the Dutch coast. The next best course would be to lie in the Downs, from which the English fleet could start in pursuit of the prince, whether he attempted to go up the Thames or down the Channel. Dartmouth was in favour of the bolder course, and it is said that the majority of the captains were still loyal. The minority had, however, sufficient influence to get it arranged that the fleet should lie at anchor by the Gunfleet, inside the Shipwash, a long, narrow, and dangerous sand stretching in front of Harwich. Here it proved absolutely useless when the fleet of the Deliverer passed it in a hard gale from the E.S.E. on the 3rd of November. Six of the prince's ships were seen from Dartmouth's fleet. The king's fleet had their top-gallant masts and yards down on the deck, and, even when they got them up, were unable to clear the sand. The Prince of Orange was allowed to run through the Straits of Dover, and reach Tor Bay unmolested. Dartmouth at last followed. If he had still any delusions as to the spirit of his squadron, they were soon dispelled. Some of his captains, in fact, had already resolved to go over to the enemy, if they met them. These men, working on the fears and weakness of others, were able to induce a council of war, held on the 5th of November, off Beachy Head, to decide not to fight, if an action could be avoided "with honour." Next day the wind turned round to the west. It will be remembered that this shift of the wind stopped the progress of the prince's ships. Yet, when it once more swung round to the west, the Deliverer stood on to Tor Bay, while the king's fleet, under Dartmouth, returned tamely into the Downs. On the 18th he did stand to sea, and made his way to the west, but fresh gales of wind scattered his ships. Some of the captains were eager to take the opportunity of going over to the prince. Captain Ashby of the Defiance would have carried his vessel into Tor Bay, if he had not met Sir Roger Strickland, as the gale died down. It was thought better to run no risks, and the Defiance joined Dartmouth with the rest of the fleet at Spithead. In truth, it mattered very little where the ships went now. The Prince of Orange had landed, and was marching to London. The officers of the ships at Spithead heard what was happening by rumour. Some of them were eager to call attention to their zeal for the cause. At the close of November, Byng was despatched with a message. He applied for leave from Dartmouth to visit a relation in Huntingdonshire, and when it was given, probably because the admiral thought it was useless to refuse, went off in the disguise of a farmer. On the way he fell in with a part of Oxford's regiment of horse, but, thanks to his disguise, was not molested. At Salisbury he found the inn full of relations and acquaintances of his own, officers of the army who had deserted the king, and were making their way westward to join the Prince of Orange. At Sherborne, Byng finally reached the prince, to whom he was presented by Russell. William received him kindly, promised to reward his services, and "sent him back with an answer to the officers of the fleet, and with a letter to Lord Dartmouth to acquaint him with the necessity of his coming over, and of his intentions to continue him at the head of the fleet; with promises that Admiral Herbert [between whom there was some variance] should not be advanced over him. This letter the prince advised Mr. Byng to put into the stuffing of his saddle, lest, in case he was seized, it should not be found upon him; but he thought it best to quilt it in the rollers of his breeches. So Mr. Byng taking his leave returned safely to the fleet again." The letter was left on Dartmouth's dressing-table by Captain Aylmer. The biographer does not inform us whether Aylmer had or had not just been engaged in curling Dartmouth's periwig. The admiral is said to have been influenced by this letter into taking a more favourable view of the prince's cause. In truth, he had lost all control over his squadron. He only escaped a scheme hatched by some of his captains to put him under arrest, through the loyalty of Captain David Lloyd, a "plain strict man," who remained faithful to the king, and was a noted Jacobite agent in the coming years. When King James sent the little Prince of Wales down to Portsmouth to be carried over to France, Dartmouth would have been unable to execute his orders, even if he had wished to do so. He ended by submitting to the Prince of Orange. On the 30th of December the fleet at Spithead was broken up. Dartmouth sailed with a part of the ships for the Nore, and the others were left at Spithead, under the command of Sir John Berry.
The history of the navy under the House of Stuart ends here. The motives of those who were most active in bringing it over to the side of the Revolution have been sufficiently indicated in these extracts from Byng's Memoirs. It completes the picture, that Byng was made very angry when the vacant command of a sixth-rate was given to another officer, and was only soothed by being appointed to the command of the Constant Warwick. It cannot be said that any great zeal for a cause animated these men. The navy followed the country in deserting a worn-out and incapable dynasty. No doubt it did well, but we cannot say that it acted magnanimously. The later Stuarts were punished where they sinned. They came back making a great parade of cynicism, declaring that any man who professed to act on any higher motive than a regard for his own interests was a canting rogue. They were taken at their word. The time came when it was nobody's interest to fight for James II., and not a sword was drawn for him in his fleet. They set the example of making the gratification of their own pleasures the one rule of their conduct. Their servants did the same. The king had no right to complain. But the spectacle of a master deserted by those to whom he had been kind, and who had been loudest in professing loyalty, so soon as they found that he was giving the places to others, has something in it, which, even when we recognise that the nation benefited by the action, cannot well be called other than ignoble.
The moral of so plain a story as this ought surely to be obvious. Yet the failure of the fleet to bar the road to the Prince of Orange has been quoted in support of the contention that a strong navy is not the sufficient defence of this country against invasion. A moment's consideration ought to show any unprepossessed mind that the events of the autumn of 1688 prove nothing of the sort. If the navy failed then, it was for precisely the reasons which caused the army to be useless to King James, namely, active treason on the part of the officers, and an acquiescent want of loyalty in the ranks. Neither sailor nor soldier wished to win, and therefore the invasion succeeded. We may see the story of 1688 repeated again when Englishmen consider the Government their enemy, and its assailant from abroad their friend—but not till then.
Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty
at the Edinburgh University Press.