The American Navy

by French Ensor Chadwick

CHAPTER V

Silas Deane had been the first American agent abroad, reaching Europe in July, 1776. Franklin and Arthur Lee arrived in France in December of that year, the former in the brig Reprisal, which was the first American man-of-war to visit the eastern hemisphere. Seldom has there been a ship whose safety meant so much; for upon Franklin’s great social and political influence was to depend the aid of France, and upon this aid, American independence. The Reprisal had taken several prizes which she had carried into Nantes, and the reception of these and the many to come later into French and Spanish ports caused strong protests from England to which these governments had to give heed. The commissioners were to purchase or hire eight line-of-battle ships as well as a frigate and two cutters, but their endeavors fell far short of such a program. Nevertheless, all things considered, aid in money, and particularly in much needed army stores, was forthcoming to a surprising degree, and the name of Beaumarchais in France and that of Gardoqui in Spain, who acted at Bilbao as Beaumarchais’s agent, deserve lasting remembrance by Americans. In 1778 Deane was replaced by John Adams, who, accompanied by his son, John Quincy, then eleven years old, sailed from Boston on February 15th in the frigate Boston, and reached Bordeaux on April 1st. Naval interests, after Deane’s recall, were taken over chiefly by Franklin.

The war had lasted three years, but now in this year of 1778 it was to take a new development. The immediate cause was the surrender of Burgoyne at Saratoga on October 17, 1777. The chain of causes was, as already mentioned, the resistance offered on Lake Champlain the previous year (1776) by the flotilla under Arnold, the transfer of the main part of the British force from New York to Philadelphia when it should have been employed to support Burgoyne, and the too leisurely movement of Clinton up the Hudson with a large portion of the 8,000 men left at New York. Clinton captured the forts at the Highlands, but he was too late to save Burgoyne, who surrendered the day after the British army burned Kingston. The surrender was a fitting nemesis for such an act. A greater strategic failure than was this campaign on the part of the British is not recorded in history, nor has there ever been one with more momentous consequences. It convinced the French Government, smarting under its loss of Canada in the treaty of 1763, that there was now a fair chance of American success, and on February 6, 1778, was signed the treaty of alliance which brought the ships the aid of which was so vital to our success. Two months later, April 13, 1778, Vice-Admiral Charles Henri Theodat d’Estaing du Saillans, generally known to us as the Count d’Estaing, sailed from Toulon with twelve battleships and five frigates. Two of these ships were of 80 guns, six of 74, three of 64, and one of 50. The naval story of our Revolution, though its greatest exploits in the cruise of Paul Jones and the capture of the Serapis were yet to come, must, henceforward, be largely of French ships.

The French commander had one of the greatest chances in history. The British fleet was in the Delaware awaiting the preparation of the British army to return to New York from Philadelphia. Howe had but six 64’s, three 50’s, and six frigates. They had been a sure prey to the French had there been in command a man of greater energy. But d’Estaing had been transferred at the mature age of thirty-five from the army to the navy, the profession of all others which requires a life-long familiarity, and where the rigidity and formality of the army school of the period were wholly out of place. There have been rare exceptions to the general rule, Blake being a notable example, but d’Estaing was not one of these. He was, says a French writer, “detested from the first—the word is not too strong—by most of his officers.”[5]

Whether through bad luck or want of energy, he was more than a month (thirty-three days) in even reaching the Straits of Gibraltar, 700 miles from Toulon, thus making an average of but twenty-one miles a day.

A British frigate was noted by the French in passing Gibraltar, which “tranquilly and comfortably watched the French fleet defile by in three columns.” But this same ship followed for ninety leagues into the Atlantic, to make sure of the French course, and then hastened to England. It arrived there on June 5th, fifty-three days after d’Estaing had left Toulon and twenty after he had passed the Straits. This knowledge, however, was not necessary to British action. A force equal to d’Estaing’s and to be commanded by Vice-Admiral Byron had already been in preparation, though it had been hampered as much by poor dockyard administration and want of men as was d’Estaing by his own want of push.

It was not until July 7, 1778, that the French fleet anchored at the Capes of the Delaware. But the quarry had gotten away. The British army had left Philadelphia on June 18th on its march to Sandy Hook. The scores of transports carrying the army baggage and stores had started down the Delaware next day. They did not get clear of the Capes until June 28th, and, convoyed by the men-of-war, reached inside of Sandy Hook on June 30th. Never was greater opportunity lost. A little earlier and with Howe’s fleet captured, the fall of New York, practically undefended, was a certainty. But for d’Estaing’s want of push the war would have ended in 1778 instead of five years later.

Howe had heard of d’Estaing’s approach. He made admirable preparations to resist the entry of New York Bay. D’Estaing arrived off Sandy Hook, but though offering the large sum of 150,000 francs, pilots were unobtainable, probably by reason of fearing the vengeance of the British if they should be taken. On July 22d there was a fresh northeast wind and a spring (a highest) tide. There was ample water for any ship of his fleet, but d’Estaing and his officers were unacquainted with the region and did not dare to venture. “At eight o’clock,” wrote an eyewitness in the British fleet, “d’Estaing, with all his squadron, appeared under way. He kept working to windward as if to gain a proper position for crossing the bar by the time the tide should serve. The wind ... blew from the exact point from which he could attack us to the greatest advantage. The spring tides were at the highest.... We consequently expected the hottest fray that had been fought between the two nations. On our side all was at stake. Had the men-of-war been defeated, the fleet of transports and victualers must have been destroyed, and the army of course fallen with us. D’Estaing, however, had not spirit equal to the risk; at three o’clock we saw him bear off to the southward, and in a few hours he was out of sight.”[6]

Naturally Washington’s disappointment over d’Estaing’s failure was great. The great prize had been lost. He had, however, arranged with d’Estaing that should the latter not attack New York, he would go to Newport, Rhode Island, and assist General John Sullivan in attacking the British force of some 6,000, which, supported by six ships-of-war, held Newport.

D’Estaing anchored off Newport (outside the bay) on July 29, 1778. The next day Suffren, with two ships-of-the-line, went into the channel west of Conanicut Island, and two frigates and a sloop-of-war entered Sakonnet; whereupon the British burned the Kingfisher, of 16 guns, and some galleys stationed there. The British general, Sir Robert Pigot, withdrew 1,500 Hessians from Conanicut and concentrated his forces about the town. Goat Island, where is now the United States Torpedo Station and where for many years was a fort, was also occupied, as this commanded the main channel and the entrances to the inner harbor. On August 5th Suffren with his two ships went into the main channel near the north end of Conanicut, two others taking his former place. Captain John Brisbane, the senior British naval officer, now destroyed four frigates, the Flora, Juno, Lark, and Orpheus, of 32 guns each, and the corvette Falcon, of 16 guns, two being sunk at the south end of Goat Island. Five transports were sunk between Goat and Coasters’ Harbor Island, thus closing both entrances to the inner harbor. The guns, ammunition, and the thousand or so men of their crews went to strengthen the forces of the batteries.