Chapter Eleven.
William and Mary—from A.D. 1689 to A.D. 1702.
One of the last acts of James was to send a fleet under the command of Lord Dartmouth to intercept that of William of Orange, which it was known was on the point of sailing. On board the Dutch fleet was Admiral Herbert, acting as commander-in-chief, though all the officers were Dutch. It was hoped that he would win over the English fleet. As it proved, both the officers and men of the navy were as ill-affected to James as were those of the army. Thus, as an old writer observes, “that naval force which James had cultivated with so much care, and on which he depended so much, proved of no use—so difficult a thing is it to bring Englishmen to enslave England.”
The Dutch fleet consisted of about 50 men-of-war, 25 fire-ships, and near 400 transports and victuallers and other vessels, carrying about 4000 horse and 10,000 foot. Admiral Herbert led the van of the fleet, Vice-Admiral Evertzen brought up the rear, and the prince himself was in the centre, carrying a flag with English colours, and their highnesses’ arms surrounded with this motto, “The Protestant Religion and the Liberties of England,” and underneath the motto of the House of Nassau, “Je Maintiendrai,” “I will maintain.”
After being driven back by a storm, the fleet came to an anchor in Torbay on the 4th of November. The prince wished to land that day, it being the one on which he was born and married, and he fancied that it would look auspicious to the army, and animate the soldiers, but the general wish was that he should not land till the following, being Gunpowder Treason day, that their landing on that day might have a good effect on the minds of the English. No sooner had the Dutch fleet got into harbour than a heavy storm sprang up from the westward, which compelled the English fleet to run into Portsmouth, from which they could not again issue till William had won the day. When Lord Dartmouth was able to leave the port he conducted the fleet to the Downs, and there holding council of war, it was resolved—first, to dismiss from their commands all such officers as were known to be papists, and then to send up an address to his highness setting forth their steady affection to the Protestant religion, and their sincere concern for the safety, freedom, and honour of their country.
Not long after this the ships were dispersed, some to the dockyards to be dismantled and laid up, others to be cleaned and repaired, and such as were in the best condition for sea were appointed for necessary services. The first service in which Admiral Herbert was employed was to endeavour to intercept the French fleet which had sailed for Ireland to support the landing of King James. On the 1st of May, 1689, the English admiral discovered the enemy’s ships at anchor in Bantry Bay; when the French stood out to sea in a well-formed line of battle to meet him. After a warm engagement of some hours the two fleets separated, when the French, claiming the victory, retired into Bantry Bay, and the English towards Scilly. After waiting for reinforcements in the chops of the channel, none arriving, Admiral Herbert returned to Portsmouth. Notwithstanding his ill-success, the king, in gratitude for the services he had before rendered him, created him Earl of Torrington, while Captains John Ashby, and Cloudesly Shovel were knighted. In 1690 Sir Cloudesly Shovel commanded a squadron of six men-of-war, which escorted the fleet of transports conveying King William’s forces to Carrickfergus, in Ireland. The Earl of Torrington, when in command of the combined English and Dutch squadrons in the channel, on the 30th of June, fell in with the French fleet commanded by the Count de Tourville between Cherbourg and the Isle of Wight. The combined fleets amounted to 56 ships only, while the French possessed 78 men-of-war and 22 fire-ships. The Dutch and Blue Squadrons being surrounded by the French, after making a gallant defence, were rescued by the Earl of Torrington. After this, finding that no impression could be made on the French fleet, it was decided in a council of war that it would be wiser to destroy the disabled ships than, by protecting them, hazard an engagement. The Anne, of 70 guns, which was dismasted, was forced on shore and destroyed. The enemy also attempted to destroy a Dutch 64 which was driven on shore, but her commander defended her with so much bravery, that he compelled the French to desist, and she, being got off, arrived safe in Holland. The earl then retreated into the Thames, leaving a few frigates to observe and watch the motions of the enemy, who remained masters of the channel. In consequence of his conduct, the earl was brought to a court-martial, but having ably defended himself, he was unanimously acquitted. The king, notwithstanding, to appease the clamours of the nation and the Dutch, took away his commission.
He was succeeded in the command of the fleet by Admiral Russell, who, greatly owing to the energetic proceedings of Queen Mary, while the king was absent in Ireland, had, by May, 1691, a squadron of considerable force, equipped and ready for sea, at his disposal. So elevated were the French at their unusual success, that they had the following inscription engraved on the stern of a new first-rate ship of war named the Saint Louis:—
“I, on the ocean, am the mightiest thing, As on the land, is my all-potent king.”
English men-of-war were ere long, however, to teach them to sing a different note. A fleet of ninety-nine sail, including the Dutch ships, was got ready by May, 1692. The English fleet was divided into two squadrons, the Red and the Blue. Among the ships we find the names of many which have become famous in naval history. There were six ships of 100 guns each. In the Red Squadron there was the Britannia, carrying the flag of Admiral Russell; the Royal Sovereign, that of Vice-Admiral Sir Ralph Delaval; the London, that of the rear-admiral, Sir Cloudesly Shovel; the Sandwich, of 90 guns; the Swiftsure, Hampton Court, Eagle, and Captain; of 70; the Ruby, Oxford, and Centurion, of 50. In the Blue Squadron there were the Victory, of 100 guns, with the flag of Admiral Sir John Ashby; the Windsor Castle, with that of Vice-Admiral Sir George Rooke; the Neptune, of 96 guns; the Albemarle and Vanguard, of 90 guns; the Royal Oak, of 74; the Northumberland, Berwick, Warspight, Monmouth, and Edgar, of 70; the Lion and Dreadnought, of 60—names long known in the British Navy. Altogether, the English fleet carried 4504 guns, and 27,725 men. The Dutch fleet carried rather more than half the number of guns, and less than half the number of men. No more powerful fleet had ever yet ploughed the ocean—it was, probably, immeasurably more so than that which encountered the Spanish Armada; while the commanders were as expert and daring as their predecessors, the seamen were infinitely better trained.
The combined fleet sailed from Spithead on the 18th of May, and stood across to the coast of France. The Chester and Charles galleys, being sent ahead, just at dawn on the 19th, Cape Barfleur bearing south-west by south, distant about seven leagues, made the signal of the French fleet being in sight, by firing some guns. Admiral Russell thereon ordered his fleet to form a line of battle, and directed the rear to attack, so that, should the French stand to the northward, they might the sooner come up and engage. As the sun rose above the ocean on that May morning, soon after four o’clock, the enemy were seen standing southward, forming their line on the same tack as that of the allied squadrons. The French admiral, De Tourville, who had till now supposed that he was about to meet only a portion of the English fleet, nevertheless considering that their hasty retreat would cause a confusion which might prove more hazardous than the battle itself, continued his orders for the engagement, and bore down on the allies. Admiral Russell on seeing this, annulled the signal for the rear to attack, and bore away to join the leeward-most ships, and formed a line ahead in close order of sailing. The French advanced till within musket-shot of the English line, when, hauling up to windward, the Soleil Royal, at 11:30 a.m., opened fire upon the Britannia. De Tourville’s object was to cut through the English line, but in consequence of the light breeze having dwindled to a calm, in bearing up as he did the French admiral lost his advantage. The Soleil Royal and the Britannia thus lay for an hour and a quarter about three-quarter’s musket-shot of each other, the English plying their guns so warmly, that the Frenchman was in that time dreadfully cut up in his rigging, sails, and yards; it being evident, also, that he had lost a great many men, for no effort was being made to repair damages. So actively did the English gunners work their pieces, that it was reckoned that during the whole fight they fired at least three broadsides while the French fired two. Captains Churchill and Aylmer who had come up to assist the admiral, had six of the enemy’s largest ships to deal with; while Sir Cloudesly Shovel, who had got to windward, briskly plied the Count de Tourville’s squadron. As the day advanced, however, a dense fog came on, so that in a short time not a ship of the enemy could be seen, and the English, for fear of injuring their friends, ceased firing. The ships which had not yet got into action on account of the calm, had their boats ahead, and used their utmost endeavours to tow them into the fight. The English fire-ships had, however, been put to good use, having burnt four of the enemy’s ships. The killed and wounded were already numerous; the Eagle alone having 70 men killed and 150 wounded. Among the former were Rear-Admiral Carter, and Captain Hastings of the Sandwich.
Night coming on, the darkness, increased by the thick fog, put an end to the fight for that day. On the morning of the 10th a portion of the French fleet was discovered, when, the wind springing up, a general chase was ordered. This continued till 4 p.m., when, the wind shifting to the southward, and the ebb ceasing, both fleets anchored and furled sails.
On the 21st the fleet anchored near the Race of Alderney, Cape La Hogue, bearing about south. Twenty-three of the French ships had anchored still nearer the Race, and fifteen others about three leagues to the westward. The flood-tide setting in strong, a number of the French ships were observed to be driving; on this Admiral Russell threw out a signal to Vice-Admiral Delaval to stand inshore and destroy them. On following out his directions, he found the Soleil Royal and two others aground, close to the beach. Finding, however, that his ships drew too much water, he sent in three fire-ships, embarking in one of them himself. He succeeded in burning two of the three-deckers, but another fire-ship was sunk by the enemy’s shot. The Saint Albans and Ruby standing in, now attacked a third French ship, when Vice-Admiral Delaval, observing that her crew had deserted their guns, boarded. On finding dead and wounded men alone on her decks, he ordered the latter to be removed, and then set the ship on fire.
One of the fire-ships, commanded by Captain Fowlis, who was conducting her against the Soleil Royal, was set on fire by her shot, though he and his crew escaped. Captain Heath, however, succeeded in burning her with another fire-ship, in the most gallant manner. The Conquirant was burnt by Captain Greenaway, and the Admirable by the boats. The greater number of the enemy’s ships had run in for shelter close to the shore. Accordingly, on the 23rd of May, Admiral Russell despatched Vice-Admiral Rooke with a squadron of men-of-war, frigates, and fire-ships, and the boats of the fleet, to destroy those ships. It was found, however, that the small frigates alone could advance near enough to effect anything. The boats, however, gallantly led by Rooke, pulled in at night and destroyed seven of them, and the next morning, again pulling in, burnt eight, with several transports and ammunition vessels. Several of the ships were first boarded, and the French, with their own guns, driven from their platforms and batteries on shore; and this was done in sight of the French and Irish camps, which lay ready to invade England. Altogether, sixteen sail of the line and numerous transports were destroyed. The victory was complete, and the annihilation of the French fleet entirely dissipating the hopes of James, its effect contributed greatly to place William the Third on his throne. Vice-Admiral Rooke, who became one of England’s greatest admirals, was knighted for his gallantry on this occasion.
While some of the ships returned to Spithead, a considerable portion were stationed in different parts of the channel to watch the French fleet, and to prevent them making their way either to the eastward or westward.
Among the gallant men who have contributed to the naval glory of England, the name of John Benbow must ever be had in remembrance. His father, Colonel Benbow, was one of those true-hearted cavaliers who fought bravely for their king to the last, and having seen one of his brothers shot by the Parliamentary forces, he made his escape, till an amnesty being granted, he was able to return and live in private in England. His fortune having been expended, he was glad to accept a small office belonging to the Ordnance, in the Tower. On the breaking out of the first Dutch war, the king came to examine the magazines. Charles, whose memory was as quick as his eye, recognised the veteran, who had for twenty years been distinguished by a fine head of grey hair. “My old friend, Colonel Benbow,” said he, “what do you here?”
“I have,” returned the colonel, “a place of 80 pounds a-year, in which I serve your majesty as cheerfully as if it brought me in 4000 pounds a-year.”
“Alas!” said the king, “is that all that could be found for an old friend of Worcester? Colonel Legge, bring this gentleman to me to-morrow, and I will provide for him and his family as it becomes me.”
Short as the time was, the colonel did not live to claim the royal promise; for, overcome by the king’s unexpected gratitude, sitting down on a bench, he there breathed his last before his majesty was well out of the tower. Whatever might have been the king’s intentions, he thought no more of the old cavalier’s family, and the colonel’s son, John, went to sea in a merchant-vessel, and shortly became owner and commander of a ship, called the Benbow frigate. No man was better known or more respected by the merchants upon the Exchange. The following anecdote shows his character, and is in accordance with the spirit of the times in which he lived. In the year 1688 he was, while in command of the Benbow frigate, attacked on his passage to Cadiz by a Sallee rover of far superior force, against which he defended himself with the utmost bravery. At last the Moors boarded him, but were quickly beaten out of his ship again with the loss of thirteen men, whose heads Captain Benbow ordered to be taken off, and thrown into a tub of pork pickle. On reaching Cadiz he went on shore, ordering a negro servant to follow him with the Moors’ heads in a sack. Scarcely had he landed when the officers of the revenue inquired of the servant what he had in his sack. The captain answered, “Salt provisions for his own use.”
“That may be,” answered the officers, “but we must insist upon seeing them.” Captain Benbow said that he was no stranger there, that he was not accustomed to run goods, and pretended to take it very ill that he was thus suspected. The officers told him that the magistrates were sitting not far off, and if they were satisfied, the servant might carry the provisions where he pleased. The captain consented to the proposal, and away they marched to the custom-house. The magistrates, when he came before them, treated Captain Benbow with great civility, telling him that they were sorry to make a point of such a trifle, but that since he refused to show the contents of his sack to their officers, they were compelled to demand a sight of them.
“I told you,” said the captain, sternly, “they were salt provisions for my own use. Cassar, throw them down upon the table; and, gentlemen, if you like them, they are at your service.”
The Spaniards were much struck at the sight of the Moors’ heads, and no less so at the account the captain gave them of his engagement, and defeat of so large a force of barbarians. They sent an account of the whole matter to the court at Madrid, and the King of Spain was so much pleased with it, that he requested to see the English captain, who made a journey to court, where he was received with much respect, and not only dismissed with a handsome present, but the king was to write a letter on his behalf to King James, who, upon his return, gave him a ship, which was his introduction to the Royal Navy.
He had always been looked upon as a bold, brave, and active commander, and one who, though he maintained strict discipline, took care of, and was therefore cheerfully obeyed by, his seamen. He maintained the same character in the Royal Navy, and was ever beloved and honoured by his ships’ companies. As the channel was much infested by French privateers, a large number of which were fitted out at Saint Malo, it had been considered advisable to destroy that town and the vessels within its harbour. Captain Benbow, with a squadron of twelve ships of the line, four bomb-galliots, ten or twelve frigates, and several sloops, having crossed the channel, entered the harbour and came to an anchor within half-a-mile of the town. The ships then opened fire, and continued battering away at the place till four in the morning, when they were compelled to come out to prevent grounding. Two successive days they continued doing the same, firing seventy bombs one day, but with frequent intermissions, inducing the inhabitants to believe that they were about to retire. The captain had, however, prepared a fire-ship, with which it was intended to have reduced the town to ashes. This vessel was a new galliot, of about 300 tons. In the bottom of the hold were placed above a hundred barrels of powder, covered with pitch, tar, resin, brimstone, and faggots. Over this was a row of thick planks or beams, with holes pierced through them in order to communicate the fire from above, and upon them were placed 340 carcases filled with grenadoes, cannon-balls, iron chains, firearms loaded with ball, large pieces of metal wrapped up in tarpaulins, and other combustible matters. This craft was sent in before the wind, and was near the very foot of the wall where it was to be fastened, when a sudden gust of wind drove it upon a rock, where it stuck, near the place where it was intended to have blown up. The engineer, however, had time to set fire to it before he retired. It blew up soon afterwards, but the carcases, which were to have done the greatest execution, being wet, did not take fire; yet the shock was so terrible, that it threw down part of the town wall, shook every house in the town, and overthrew the roofs of above 300 which were nearest. The capstan, weighing above a ton, was thrown over the wall on the top of a house, which it beat down. A similar machine had been used for blowing up the bridge at the siege of Antwerp in 1585.
In 1694 another expedition, under the command of Sir Cloudesly Shovel, was sent to the coast of Flanders, for the purpose of destroying the town of Dunkirk. Previous attacks had been made on the coast of France of a similar character. Mr Meesters, the inventor of some infernal machines, accompanied the expedition. He requested that a captain might be appointed to the command of the smaller craft, and Captain Benbow was accordingly directed to take command of the bomb-galliots and fire-ships. Owing to numerous delays, the French having got notice of the intended attack, had time to make preparations for defeating it, which resulted in the loss of several ships. Dieppe, however, had been bombarded, when 1100 bombs and carcases were thrown into it with such success, that the town was set on fire in several places, and the townsmen and some regiments sent to their assistance had to beat a rapid retreat.
An infernal machine, such as has before been described, was blown up at the pierhead. It made a frightful noise, but did little execution, occasioned, as was supposed, by the pierhead lying too low. The fuzee having gone out, Captain Dunbar, who commanded the vessel, again went on board and set fire to it in the most gallant manner.
Havre-de-Grâce was likewise bombarded, when the town was set in flames. Bad weather coming on, the bomb-vessels were ordered off, the mortars being either melted or the vessels so shattered, that no present use could be made of them. One of them, the Granado, was entirely blown to pieces by a bomb, which fell into her. It was it hoped, however, that Sir Cloudesly’s expedition would be more successful. Notwithstanding a heavy fire from a French frigate in the roads, from numerous forts, and from five other frigates near the basin, Captain Benbow carried his vessels and boats close up to the town, and came off again in the night without any damage. The next day, the weather being fair, the boats and vessels were again sent in, when the French frigate, after firing her broadside, ran in to the pier. In the afternoon, two infernal machines were blown up at a little distance from the pierhead, but without doing any damage, except to the crew of the boat which towed them in, who were all blown up on board. The French, also, having driven piles outside the pierheads, and sunk four ships, it was found impossible to approach nearer the town, and the undertaking was therefore abandoned. This is one of the many instances which prove that fire-ships, if resolutely met by the enemy against whom they are intended to act, are not capable of effecting much damage.
A remarkable instance of promotion for gallant conduct occurred early in the reign of William and Mary. On the 25th of March, 1689, the 36-gun frigate Nonsuch, Captain Roome Coyle, fell in with two French ships, one mounting 30, the other 22 guns, off Guernsey. He without hesitation engaged them, when he and the master being killed, and there being no lieutenant on board, the boatswain, Robert Simcock, took the command. So spiritedly did the brave boatswain continue the action, that both French ships were captured. For his gallant conduct Mr Simcock, on reaching Portsmouth with his prize, was forthwith promoted to the rank of captain, and appointed to command the Nonsuch.
Next year a ship called the Friends’ Adventure, belonging to Exeter, was captured by a French privateer, who took out of her the master and five of his men, leaving on board only the mate, Robert Lyde, of Topsham, twenty-three years of age, and John Wright, a boy of sixteen, with seven Frenchmen, who had orders to navigate the ship to Saint Malo. When off Cape la Hogue, a strong wind springing up, drove them off the French coast. Lyde now began to entertain hopes of recovering the ship, and on the 6th of March he and his companion took the opportunity, while two of the Frenchmen were at the pump, one at the helm, one on the forecastle, and three asleep in the cabin, to attack them. Lyde with an iron crowbar killed one of the men at the pump, and knocked down the other at one blow. Wright at the same moment knocked down the man on the forecastle, and they then secured the man at the helm. One of the Frenchmen hearing a scuffle, and running up from between decks to the assistance of his companions, was wounded by the mate, but the two others coming to his relief seized and had nearly secured the gallant fellow, when the boy, bravely hurrying to his aid, after a sharp struggle, killed one and gave the other quarter. Having thus made themselves masters of the ship, they put the two disabled men into bed, ordering a third to look after them, and secured them between decks. One they kept bound in the steerage, and made use of the remaining man to navigate the vessel, which, on the 9th of March, they brought safely into Topsham, with their five prisoners on board.
About the same time the sloop Tryal was captured by a French man-of-war, who put five Frenchmen on board, leaving only the master, Richard Griffiths, afterwards Captain Griffiths, commonly known by the name of “Honour and Glory,” and a boy, John Codamon, in the sloop. Griffiths and his boy having formed their design, suddenly set upon the five Frenchmen, and, having wounded three and forced all five down into the hold, carried their vessel with their prisoners safe into Falmouth.
I give these instances to show the stuff out of which the commanders and crews of men-of-war were formed in those days. They show, also, that the authorities who governed the navy appreciated bravery, and were ready to obtain the services of such gallant fellows for the advantage of the country.
We find fire-ships at this period universally sent to sea with fleets. Sir Francis Waller, on board the Sussex, was ordered to proceed to Cadiz, and from thence to convoy the merchant-vessels he might find there to Turkey or any ports in Spain or Italy. His fleet consisted of fifteen third-rates, seven fourth-rates, one fifth-rate, six fire-ships, two bomb-vessels, a hospital-ship, and a store-ship in company with several Dutch ships of war. Having touched at Gibraltar, he again put to sea, and met with gales of wind; and ultimately, in thick weather, he with part of his fleet running to the straits mistook the entrance. The Sussex, with 550 men on board, foundered, two Moors only escaping. The admiral’s body was afterwards discovered on shore much mangled. Besides this loss, 409 were drowned belonging to various ships which were either driven on shore or foundered. Among them was the Cambridge, a ship of 70 guns, and the Lumley Castle.
On most occasions the fire-ships, being generally old vessels fit for no other purpose, were the chief sufferers. A Dutch ship of 70 guns ran on shore, but was got off again, as were several other ships; indeed, few escaped without much damage. This was the most violent storm that had ever been known in those seas since the memory of man.
William was now taking measures for retrieving the honour of the British Flag, and appointed Admiral Russell commander-in-chief of the navy, and several other eminent officers to form a new commission of admiralty. He also, finding that the pay of sea-officers was less than that of other countries, directed that the sea pay of flag-officers, commanders, lieutenants, masters, and surgeons should be doubled; as also that all flag-officers and captains of first, second, third, fourth, and fifth-rate ships, and also the masters of first, second, and third-rates, who had served a year in the same post in the ships of those rates, or been in a general engagement, should have half-pay while on shore, to be paid quarterly out of the general estimate of the navy. From this it is evident that they before this time, as also those of other ranks, received no half-pay while on shore. It was also ordered that only such commissioned officers as had been put in by the Admiralty, and warrant officers as had been put in by the Navy Board, should receive the benefit of half-pay; that half-pay officers be expected to assist the Navy Board; that no convoy money be demanded or received under the penalty of forfeiting and losing employment for ever; that the commanders transmit to the Admiralty when and why they came into port.
The French had not abandoned their design of restoring James the Second to the throne. He had abdicated, and in 1696, while most of the British ships were laid up, and the rest were employed in the protection of the trade up the Mediterranean, it was discovered that 500 transports were in Dunkirk ready to take on board an army of 20,000 men, under the escort of fifteen sail of men-of-war, for the invasion of England. While these preparations were making, and every ship was of consequence, the Royal Sovereign, laid up at Chatham to be rebuilt, took fire, and was totally consumed. She was the first great ship that ever was built in England. The great object then was only to exhibit as much splendour and magnificence as possible. In the reign of Charles the Second, however, being taken down a deck lower, she became one of the best men-of-war in the world, and so formidable to her enemies, that none of the most daring among them would willingly lie by her side. She had been in almost all the great engagements that had been fought between England and Holland, and in the last fight between the English and French, when she compelled the Soleil Royal to fly for shelter among the rocks. At length, leaky and defective with age, she was laid up at Chatham, in order, as has been said, to be rebuilt.
In the year 1691 the first mention is made of a regular regiment of marines being raised to serve on board ship. In this year one dry and two wet docks were ordered to be constructed at Portsmouth, and orders were given to survey the harbour of Falmouth, and report whether it was capable of being made a proper port for the refitting and docking ships of the Royal Navy.
It was not till the year 1693 that men-of-war on the home service were allowed to carry to sea spare topmasts and sails.
In 1694 the king, by the advice of the excellent Queen Mary, granted the royal palace of Greenwich to be converted into a hospital for decayed seamen in the Royal Navy. Sir Christopher Wren was appointed as architect, and an annual sum of money was granted to complete and extend the buildings. The foundation of the first new building was laid on the 3rd of June, 1696.
In the same year the landmark on the beach at Stoke, near Gosport, called the Kicker, was erected, and the buoy of the horse placed at Spithead, for the better security of ships going into Portsmouth Harbour. Some docks were made at Plymouth, and storehouses, as also residences for the accommodation of the officers of the dockyard, were built.
In 1695 brass box-compasses were invented and allowed to the ships in the Royal Navy. Many ships having been wrecked upon the Eddystone Rock off Plymouth, an application was made to the Trinity House to erect a lighthouse on it, which was begun to be built in 1696, and was finished in three years. Many masters and owners of ships agreed to pay one penny per ton outwards and inwards, to assist in defraying the expense.
In 1696 an Act of Parliament was passed to establish a register for 30,000 seamen, to be in readiness at all times for supplying the Royal Navy. They were to have a bounty of forty shillings yearly. None but such registered seamen were to be preferred to the rank of commissioned or warrant officers in the Royal Navy. They were likewise entitled to a double share in all prizes, and when maimed or superannuated, were admitted into Greenwich Hospital. The widows and children of such registered seamen who might be killed in the service were admissible into that hospital. It was also enacted that sixpence per month should be deducted from the wages of all seamen both in the merchant-service as well as in the Royal Navy, for the support of Greenwich Hospital.
A composition was invented to be laid on the bottoms of ships to preserve them against worms. The experiment was ordered to be tried on his majesty’s ship the Sheerness.
In 1696 the Parliament voted 2,372,197 pounds for the maintenance of 40,000 seamen and two regiments of marines, the ordinary of the navy, and the charge of the registry of seamen. This was the largest sum by far hitherto voted for the maintenance of the navy.
In 1697 Commissioner Greenhill proposed a plan for rowing of ships in a calm, which was tried on board His Majesty’s ship the Experiment.
In 1700 the rate of pay of sea-officers was again reduced. It was far less than that of the French; the French admiral having 1500 pounds per annum for his table-money, whereas the English admiral had only 365 pounds, no allowance whatever being made to other admirals, unless commanders-in-chief.
For several years the West Indies and Spanish Main had been infested by the buccaneers, who plundered without distinction the ships of all nations, but particularly those of the Spaniards. Several were taken, among the most notorious of whom was Captain Kidd, who, being brought to England and tried at the Old Bailey, was fully convicted, and executed with several of his companions. The immense property which Kidd had amassed was given for the support of Greenwich Hospital. The Earl of Bellamont, Governor of New England, and others, were accused in Parliament of favouring Kidd, and giving him a commission, but the charges were refuted.
On the 25th of July, 1701, a new Royal Sovereign, of 110 guns, was launched at Woolwich. She was the largest ship in the navy, the length of her keel was 146 feet 6 inches, and from the top of the taffrail to the fore-part of the figure-head, 210 feet 7 inches; her extreme breadth being 54 feet 3 and a half inches.
Several actions exhibiting extraordinary courage, performed during the war with France, are worthy of notice. On the 30th of May, 1695, William Thompson, master of a fishing-boat belonging to Poole, in Dorsetshire, with a crew of one man and a boy, observed a French sloop privateer standing towards him. He had but two swivel guns and a few muskets; the privateer had two guns, several small-arms, and sixteen men. Thompson, finding that his small crew were ready to support him, made up his mind to do battle with the Frenchman. As she approached, he began blazing away, and in a short time wounded the captain, and mate, and six men of the privateer, upon which she sheered off. Thompson on this made chase, and so skilfully did he manage his little craft, and with so much determination keep up his fire, that after engaging the privateer for two hours, she struck. On his arrival at Poole with his prize, he was warmly received, and the Lords of the Admiralty, hearing of his gallantry, presented him with a gold chain and a medal of the value of 50 pounds.
Another fishing-vessel, belonging to Whitesand, commanded by a Mr Williams, falling in with some merchant-vessels which had been captured by French privateers, attacked them with so much courage and skill, that he retook the whole. He received the same reward as had Mr Thompson.
Not long afterwards a coasting sloop, the Sea Adventure, commanded by Peter Jolliffe, fell in, off Portland, with a French privateer, which was in the act of taking possession of a small fishing-vessel belonging to Weymouth. The privateer endeavoured to escape, when Jolliffe made sail in chase, and coming up, briskly opened his fire, when he compelled her to release her prize. Not content with this success, he continued the fight, and at length drove her on shore in Lulworth Bay. The seafaring population of the village hurrying out, captured the privateer, and made prisoners of her crew.
Just before the close of the war, Captain William Jumper, commanding the Weymouth, engaged and sank the Fougueux, a French 48-gun ship, and shortly afterwards he fell in with another French 50-gun ship, but in the heat of the engagement, some powder on board the Weymouth blew up the poop, and disabled her for further immediate action. Having repaired damages, Captain Jumper again closed with the enemy, but unhappily his bowsprit and three lower-masts fell overboard, when the French ship made sail and escaped. On the 19th of the following August he fell in with a sail to leeward, between the island of Cloune and Saint Martins. He immediately ran down, hoisting the French ensign, and yawing a little to show it. Another French frigate at anchor under the castle, weighed and stood off. The first man-of-war, suspecting the character of the stranger, made sail, but the Weymouth, outsailing her, got close under her lee, keeping his French ensign flying to prevent the enemy from firing at his masts till he was near enough. He then hoisted the English ensign and poured in a broadside, and commenced bracing his main-topsail back; when, before he had fired off a second round, the enemy, which proved to be L’Amore, of Rochefort, a king’s ship, struck her colours. The other ship, seeing the fate of her consort, escaped. The prize was a vessel similar to an English galley. She carried 20 guns on the upper-deck, and 9 on the lower-deck, but 4 on the quarter-deck, and between decks she had small ports for oars.
Chapter Twelve.
Queen Anne—from A.D. 1702 to A.D. 1714.
Anne, daughter of James the Second, married the Prince George of Denmark, and ascended the throne March the 8th, 1702. Although the army was held in more consideration during her reign than the navy, the British seamen managed by their gallant deeds to make the service respected at home and abroad. It was not much to his advantage that the queen appointed her consort, Prince George, to be Lord High Admiral. The acts done in his name were not so narrowly scrutinised as they would otherwise have been, and the commissioners of the Admiralty took good care to shelter themselves under his wing.
Three of the most celebrated admirals in this reign were Sir George Rooke, Sir Cloudesly Shovel, and Admiral Benbow. Sir George, upon the breaking out of war with France, was appointed to the chief command of the fleet. An expedition, which he at once sent against Cadiz, was unsuccessful. Not long afterwards, intelligence was carried to Sir George that a French squadron and a fleet of Spanish galleons was at Vigo. Sir George immediately sailed with the English and Dutch fleets, and appeared before that port. The weather being hazy, the people in the town did not discover them. The passage into the harbour is not more than three-quarters of a mile across. Batteries had been thrown up on either side, and garrisoned with a large body of troops, while a strong boom, composed of ships-yards and topmasts fastened together with three-inch rope, had been carried across it. The top chain at each end was moored to a 70-gun ship, while within the boom were moored five ships, of between 60 and 70 guns each, with their broadsides fronting the entrance to the passage, so that they could fire at any ship which came near the boom, forts, or platform. As it was impossible for the whole fleet to enter, a detachment of fifteen English and ten Dutch men-of-war, with all the fire-ships, followed by the frigates and bomb-vessels, were ordered to enter and attempt the destruction of the enemy’s fleet, while the troops were to land and attack the forts in the rear. Vice-Admiral Hopson in the Torbay led the van; but when he got within shot of the batteries it fell calm, so that the ships were compelled to come to an anchor. A strong wind, however, soon afterwards springing up, Admiral Hopson cutting his cables clapped on all sail, and, amidst a hot fire from the enemy, bore up directly for the boom, which he at once broke through, receiving broadsides from the two ships at either end. The rest of the squadron and the Dutch following, sailed abreast towards the boom, but being becalmed they all stuck, and were compelled to hack and cut their way through. Again a breeze sprang up, of which the Dutchman made such good use that, having hit the passage, he went in and captured the Bourbon. Meantime Admiral Hopson was in extreme danger, for the French fire-ship having fallen on board him, whereby his rigging was set on fire, he expected every moment to be burnt; but it happened that the fire-ship was a merchantman, and laden with snuff, and being fitted up in haste, the snuff in some measure extinguished the fire. The gallant Hopson, however, received considerable damage, for, besides having his fore-topmast shot away, he had 115 men killed and drowned, and 9 wounded, while his sails and his rigging were burnt and scorched. He was, therefore, compelled to leave his ship, and hoist his flag on board the Monmouth.
At the same time, Captain Bokenham, in the Association, laid his broadside against the town, while Captain Wyvill, in the Barfleur, a ship of the like force, was sent to batter the fort on the other side. The firing of the great and small shot of both sides was continued for some time, till the French admiral, seeing the platform and fort in the hands of the English and his fire-ship useless, while the confederate fleet were entering, set fire to his own ship, ordering the rest of the captains under his command to follow his example, which was done in so much confusion, that several men-of-war and galleons were taken by the English and Dutch. The allies and French lost about an equal number of men, but by this victory a vast amount of booty, both of plate and other things, was captured. The Spanish fleet was the richest that ever came from the West Indies to Europe. The silver and gold was computed at 20,000,000 of pieces of eight, of which 14,000,000 only had been taken out of the galleons and secured by the enemy at Lagos, about twenty-five leagues from Vigo, and the rest was either taken or sunk in the galleons. Besides this, there were goods to the value of 20,000 pieces of eight, and a large quantity of plate and goods belonging to private persons. A few years ago only, a company was formed in England for the purpose of dredging for the treasure sunk in the galleons, but the scheme was abandoned on the discovery that much less amount of treasure than here described was really lost, the confederates having captured nearly all of that which had not been landed at Lagos.
By this blow the naval power of France was so deeply wounded, that she never recovered it during the war.
Admiral Benbow had in the meantime been despatched to the West Indies, in command of a small squadron, to prevent the Spanish islands from falling into the power of France. Hearing that Monsieur de Casse, the French admiral, had sailed for Carthagena, he pursued him. On the 19th of August, in the afternoon, he discovered ten sail steering westward along the shore under their topsails. Upon this, he threw out a signal for a line of battle. The frigates being a long time coming up, and the night advancing, Benbow steered alongside the French, having disposed his line of battle in the following manner:—The Defiance, Pendennis, Windsor, Breda, Greenwich, Ruby, and Falmouth. Though he endeavoured to near them, he intended not to make any attack until the Defiance had got abreast of the headmost. He, however, was compelled before long to open his fire; but after two or three broadsides had been exchanged, the Defiance and Windsor luffed up out of gunshot, leaving the two sternmost ships of the enemy engaged with the admiral, while his own ships in the rear did not come up as he had expected. He afterwards altered his line of battle. The next morning at daybreak, he was near the French ships, but none of his squadron, excepting the Ruby, were with him, the rest lying some miles astern. There was but little wind, and though the admiral was within gunshot of the enemy, they did not fire. In the afternoon, a sea-breeze springing up, the enemy got into line and made what sail they could, while the rest of the English ships not coming up, the admiral and Ruby plied them with chase-guns, and kept them company all the next night. On the 21st the admiral again exchanged fire with the enemy’s fleet, as did the Ruby, and he would have followed had not the Ruby been in such a condition that he could not leave her. The Ruby was so disabled during this and the following day, that the admiral ordered her to return to Port Royal.
The rest of the squadron now came up, and the enemy being but two miles off, the gallant Benbow was at last in hopes of doing something, and continued, therefore, to steer after them, but again, all his ships, with the exception of the Falmouth, were astern, and at twelve the enemy began to separate. Early on the morning of the 24th he again came within hail of the sternmost of the French ships. At three, while hotly engaged with them, the admiral’s right leg was shattered to pieces by a chain-shot, and he was carried below, but soon after, he ordered his cradle on the quarter-deck, and the fight was continued till daylight, when one of the enemy’s ships, of 20 guns, was discovered to be very much disabled. A strong breeze now brought the enemy down upon him, when three of his own ships getting to leeward of the disabled ship, fired their broadsides and stood to the southward. Then came the Defiance, which, after exchanging fire with the disabled ship, put her helm a-weather and ran away before the wind, without any regard to the signal of battle. The French seeing the two ships stand to the southward, and finding that they did not attack, immediately bore down upon the admiral, and running between their disabled ship and him, poured in all their shot, by which they brought down his main-topsail yard, and shattered his rigging very much.
Some time after this, his line of battle signal flying all the while, Captain Kirby came on board and told him that he had better desist, that the French were very strong, and that from what was past, he would guess he would make nothing of it. On this he sent for the rest of the captains. They obeyed him, but were most of them of Captain Kirby’s opinion. This satisfied the admiral that they were not inclined to fight; when, had they supported him, the whole French fleet might have been captured. On this he returned with his squadron to Jamaica. As soon as he arrived he ordered a court-martial on the captains who had deserted him. One, Captain Hudson, died a few days before his trial came on. Captains Kirby and Wade were condemned to death, and being sent home, were shot immediately on their arrival at Plymouth, in 1703.
The gallant Benbow, in spite of the fearful wound he had received, lingered till the 4th of November, when he yielded up his brave spirit, feeling more the disgrace which his captains had brought upon the English flag than his own sufferings. All the time of his illness he continued to issue his orders, and showed more anxiety for the interests of the nation than for his private affairs. He received a proof of what would have been the result of the action had he been properly supported, in a letter from the brave French Admiral Du Casse. “Sir,—I had little hopes on Monday last but to have supped in your cabin, but it pleased God to order it otherwise. I am thankful for it. As for those cowardly captains who deserted you, hang them up, for by God they deserve it.—Yours, Du Casse.”
The opinion of the nautical poets of the time is well shown in one of those sea-songs which have done so much to keep up the spirits of British tars.
“The Death of Benbow.”
Come all ye sailors bold,
Lend an ear, lend an ear,
Come all ye sailors bold, lend an ear;
’Tis of our Admiral’s fame,
Brave Benbow called by name,
How he fought on the main,
You shall hear, you shall hear.
Brave Benbow he set sail,
For to fight, for to fight;
Brave Benbow he set sail
With a free and pleasant gale,
But his captains they turned tail.
In a fright, in a fright.
Says Kirby unto Wade,
I will run, I will run;
Says Kirby unto Wade, I will run;
I value not disgrace,
Nor the losing of my place,
My en’mies I’ll not face
With a gun, with a gun.
’Twas the Ruby and Noah’s Ark
Fought the French, fought the French;
’Twas the Ruby and Noah’s Ark fought the French;
And there was ten in all;
Poor souls they fought them all,
They valued them not at all,
Nor their noise, nor their noise.
It was our Admiral’s lot,
With a chain-shot, with a chain-shot;
It was our Admiral’s lot, with a chain-shot
Our Admiral lost his legs;
Fight on, my boys, he begs,
’Tis my lot, ’tis my lot.
While the surgeon dressed his wounds,
Thus he said, thus he said;
While the surgeon dressed his wounds, thus he said,
Let my cradle now, in haste,
On the quarter-deck be placed,
That my enemies I may face,
Till I’m dead, till I’m dead.
And there bold Benbow lay,
Crying out, crying out;
And there bold Benbow lay, crying out,
Let us tack about once more,
We’ll drive them to their own shore;
I don’t value half-a-score,
Nor their noise, nor their noise.
In 1703 Rear-Admiral Dilkes did good service by pursuing a fleet of forty-three French merchantmen, convoyed by three men-of-war, into a bay between Avranches and Mount Saint Michael. He first sent in his boats, under cover of the ships, when fifteen sail were taken, six burnt, and three sunk; and, on the following morning, the enemy having got into too shoal water for the large ships to approach, he in person led the boats, when two men-of-war were burnt, a third was taken, and seventeen more of the merchant-vessels were burnt, so that only four escaped. For this signal service the queen ordered gold medals to be struck, and presented to the admiral and all his officers.
Parliament this year voted 40,000 men, including 5000 marines, for the sea-service.
On the night between the 26th and 27th of November, one of the most fearful storms ever known in England began to blow. It commenced between eleven and twelve o’clock, from the west-south-west, with a noise which resembled thunder, accompanied by bright flashes of lightning, and continued with almost unrelenting fury till seven the next morning. During these few hours thirteen men-of-war were cast away, and 1509 seamen were drowned. Among the officers who lost their lives were Rear-Admiral Beaumont, when his ship, the Mary, was driven on the Goodwin Sands. Of the whole ship’s company, Captain Hobson, the purser, and one man, Thomas Atkins, alone were saved. The escape of Atkins was remarkable. When the ship went to pieces, he was tossed by a wave into the Stirling Castle, which sank soon after, and he was then thrown by another wave, which washed him from the wreck into one of her boats. Sir Cloudsley Shovel, who was lying in the Downs, saved his ship by cutting away her main-mast, though she narrowly escaped running on the Galloper. The wives and families of the seamen who perished on this occasion received the same bounty as would have been granted had they been actually killed in fight in her majesty’s service. The House of Commons also resolved to present an address to her majesty, stating, that as they could not see any diminution of her majesty’s navy without making provision to repair the same, they besought her immediately to give directions for repairing this loss, and for building such capital ships as her majesty should think fit.
In 1704 Sir George Rooke, who commanded a large squadron in the Mediterranean, on board of which was a body of troops under the Prince of Hesse, resolved to attempt the capture of Gibraltar. On the 17th of July, while the fleet lay in Tetuan Roads, he called a council of war, when, finding that his officers were ready to support him, he gave orders that the fleet should at once proceed to the attack. Entering the Bay of Gibraltar, the ships took up a position to prevent all communication between the rock and the continent, and the Prince of Hesse landed on the isthmus with 1800 marines. His highness having taken post there, summoned the governor, who answered that he would defend the place to the last. At daybreak on the following morning, the 22nd, Sir George ordered the ships under the command of Rear-Admiral Byng and Rear-Admiral Vanderduesen to commence the cannonade, but owing to want of wind they were unable to reach their stations till nearly nightfall. In the meantime, to amuse the enemy, Captain Whitaker was sent in with some boats, who burnt a French privateer of 12 guns at the old mole. On the 23rd, soon after daybreak, the ships having taken up their stations, the admiral gave the signal for commencing the cannonade, when, in five or six hours, 15,000 shot were thrown into the fortress, compelling the enemy to retreat from their guns. Sir George now considering that could the fortifications be captured, the town would yield, sent in Captain Whitaker with all the boats, to endeavour to possess himself of it. Captain Hicks and Captain Jumper, who lay next the mole, were the first to reach the shore with their pinnaces, and before the other boats could come up, the enemy sprang a mine, which blew up the fortifications on the mole, killed 2 lieutenants and about 40 men, and wounded about 60 others. The gallant captains, then advancing, gained possession of the great platform, Captain Whitaker capturing a redoubt half-way between the mole and the town, many of the enemy’s guns being also taken. The next day the governor offered to capitulate; when, hostages being exchanged, the Prince of Hesse marched into the town, of which he took possession, the Spaniards composing the garrison being allowed to march out with all the honours of war—though the French were excluded from this part of the capitulation, and were detained as prisoners of war.
The town was found to be extremely strong, with 100 guns mounted, all facing the sea, and with two narrow passes to the land. It was also well supplied with ammunition, but the garrison consisted of less than 150 men. However, it was the opinion that fifty men might have defended the fortifications against thousands, and the attack made by the seamen was brave almost beyond example. Sixty only were killed, including those blown up, and 216 wounded. As this design was contrived by the admiral, so it was executed entirely by the seamen, and to them was the honour due.
Leaving a garrison under the Prince of Hesse, the fleet sailed to Tetuan, in order to take in wood and water. At the end of the year the Spaniards attempted its recapture, but Sir John Leake arriving to its relief, surprised and took three French frigates, a fire-ship, corvette, and storeship laden with warlike stores, the very night before the Spaniards had intended to storm it. The following month 2000 troops arrived to garrison the place, making it no longer necessary for the ships to remain in the bay.
Notwithstanding the many important services rendered by Sir George Rooke, his political opponents gaining the ascendant, so annoyed him that he resolved to retire, to prevent public business from receiving any disturbance on his account. He passed the remainder of his days as a private gentleman, for the most part at his seat in Kent. He left but a small fortune, so moderate that when he came to make his will, it surprised those who were present. The reason he assigned reflected more honour on him than had he possessed unbounded wealth. His words were: “I do not leave much, but what I leave was honestly gotten—it never cost a sailor a tear, or the nation a farthing.” He died on the 24th of January, 1708-9, in the fifty-eighth year of his age, leaving one son, George Rooke, by the daughter of Colonel Luttrell, of Dunster Castle, Somersetshire.
On the resignation of Sir George Rooke, Sir Cloudsley Shovel was appointed Vice-Admiral of England.
In 1704 a sum of 10,000 pounds was voted by Parliament for building a wharf and storehouses in the dockyard at Portsmouth, and 40,000 men for the sea-service, including 8000 marines, proving the value which was attached to this arm. Probably they were trained even then to assist in working the ship, while to them was committed those duties exclusively which have since been so ably performed by our gallant blue-jackets on shore.
On the 1st of December, 1704, Greenwich Hospital was opened for the reception of seamen, and a lieutenant-governor, captain, and two lieutenants, a physician, and surgeon, were appointed by warrant. Numerous other officers were afterwards appointed, as well as two chaplains.
In 1705, the Eddystone Lighthouse, which had been blown down during the great storm, was rebuilt by Act of Parliament, and the contribution from the English shipping, which had before been voluntary, was fixed by its authority. The contest with France, Queen Anne’s war, as it was called, resulted in the general destruction of the French power at sea; and after the battle of Malaga, we hear no more of their great fleets. The number of their privateers, however, was very much increased, in consequence of which Parliament was urged on by the mercantile interest to put them down. The loss also by the great storm, and the misfortunes met with in the West Indies, indeed, every untoward accident, induced the nation more eagerly to demand an augmentation of the navy. Thus, at the close of 1706, not only were the number but the quality of the men-of-war greatly superior to what they had been in Charles’s reign. The economy and discipline of the navy was also much improved. Great encouragement was also given to seamen, by the utmost care being taken in the treatment of the wounded, and exact and speedy payment of prize-money.
A bounty was now given for hemp imported from the plantations, and every encouragement was afforded to British merchants to enable them to carry on their schemes with vigour.
The gallantry of Captain Mordaunt, son of the Earl of Peterborough, in command of the Resolution, of 70 guns, in the Mediterranean, deserves to be remembered. He had sailed with his father from Barcelona on the 13th of March, 1706, with an envoy of the King of Spain to the Duke of Savoy on board, and had in company the Enterprise and Milford frigates. When within about fifteen leagues of Genoa, six French line of battle ships were seen, who immediately gave chase to the English squadron. Lord Peterborough and the Spanish envoy on this went on board the Enterprise, and, with the Milford, made their escape to Leghorn. The enemy continued the chase of the Resolution, when one of their ships came about ten o’clock at night within shot of her, but did not begin to fire till the other ships had come up. The Resolution had been much shattered a few days before in a heavy gale of wind, and was at no time a fast sailer. Notwithstanding the great disparity in force, Captain Mordaunt made a brave resistance; but by the advice of his officers he ran the ship ashore under the guns of a Genoese fort, from which, however, he received no manner of protection; and shortly afterwards he was wounded in the thigh, when he was carried on shore. At five the French commodore sent in all the boats of his squadron, but the enemy were repulsed and obliged to retire to their ships. The next morning a French 80-gun ship, brought up under the Resolution’s stern, with a spring in her cable, and opened a heavy fire upon her. Her officers finding that there was no prospect of saving the ship, with the consent of Captain Mordaunt, set her on fire, and in a short time she was consumed, while they and the crew got safely on shore.
The last act of the gallant Sir Cloudsley Shovel was an attempt to assist the Duke of Savoy and Prince Eugene, who were closely investing Toulon. A large number, however, of the French ships were destroyed before the siege was raised. On his return to England, on the 23rd of October, 1707, a strong gale blowing from the south-south-west, his ship, the Association, ran upon the rocks called the Bishop and his Clerks off Scilly, and immediately going to pieces, every soul perished. The Eagle and Romney shared the same fate; other ships struck, but happily got off. The body of the brave Sir Cloudsley was the next day cast on shore, and was known by a valuable ring which he wore on his finger. Being brought to Plymouth, it was thence conveyed to London and interred in Westminster Abbey, where a magnificent monument was erected by Queen Anne to his memory.
We may judge of the progress of the navy by the sums voted by Parliament for its support, which in this year amounted to 2,300,000 pounds.
In 1708, Commodore Wager, with a small squadron, attacked a fleet of galleons on their way from Porto Bello to Carthagena. The Spanish admiral’s ship, the San Josef, of 64 guns and 600 men, blew up with a cargo on board of 7,000,000 pounds in gold and silver, only seventeen men being saved. The vice-admiral escaped, but the rear-admiral, of 44 guns, was captured. She had, however, only thirteen chests of eight and fourteen sows of silver. The rest of the galleons were for the most part loaded with cocoa. Two of Commodore Wager’s captains, who had disobeyed his orders, were tried by a court-martial, and dismissed from the command of their ships.
About the same time Captain Purvis, while chasing a French ship, got his vessel on a ledge of rocks, where she was bilged. He, and some of his men, however, reached a small Key within shot of the French ship, which mounted 14 guns and had on board 60 men. She kept up a brisk fire upon the Key until Captain Purvis with his own boats and a canoe had boarded her, when her commander called for quarter and surrendered on condition that he and his crew should be set on shore. Captain Purvis got the French ship off and returned in her to Jamaica.
Another gallant exploit was performed by Captain Colby, commanding a privateer. Being on a cruise on the Spanish main, he fell in with fourteen sail of brigantines and sloops, laden with valuable goods taken out of the galleons at Porto Bello. They were bound to Panama, under convoy of a guard sloop, which he bravely fought and took, with six of her convoy.
An Act of Parliament was passed this year, by which the forfeited and unclaimed shares of prize-money were to be paid into Greenwich Hospital.
The Prince George of Denmark dying, the Earl of Pembroke was appointed Lord High Admiral of Great Britain in his stead.
England was, as before, determined to assert her supposed sovereignty of the narrow seas, and to compel other nations to acknowledge her claims. While cruising in the chops of the channel the Winchester, Captain Hughes, chased a strange sail, on coming up with which he discovered her to be a large Dutch privateer. The commander, on being required to pay the usual compliment to the British flag, not only refused, but discharged a broadside into the Winchester. An obstinate fight ensued, in which the Dutch commander and forty of his men were killed. The Dutch and English were at this time, it will be remembered, at peace; but we hear of no complaint being made of the proceeding.
On the retirement of the Earl of Pembroke, the queen, in November, 1709, issued a warrant for the executing of the office of Lord High Admiral by commission. The next year an Act was passed for the purchase of lands in order to fortify and better secure the royal docks at Portsmouth, Chatham, Harwich, Plymouth, and Milford Haven.
By another Act, any seaman in the merchant-service, who had been disabled in defending or taking enemy’s ships was deemed qualified to be admitted into Greenwich Hospital.
A fleet, under Sir Hovenden Walker, whose flag-ship was the Edgar, was sent out to attack Quebec, and to recover from the French Placentia, in the island of Newfoundland. Having arrived too late in the season he was compelled to return. While he and most of the officers were on shore, on the 15th of October, the Edgar blew up at Spithead, when every soul perished.
There lay at that time in the Downs two privateers, the Duke, of 30 guns and 170 men, commanded by Captain Wood Rogers, and the Duchess, of 26 guns and 150 men, commanded by Captain Stephen Courtnay, having been fitted out by some Bristol merchants to cruise against the Spaniards in the South Seas. They had just returned from thence, having captured a Spanish ship with two millions of pieces of eight on board. On their voyage they had touched at the island of Juan Fernandez, which they reached on the 31st of January, 1708-9. Two of the officers with six armed men had gone on shore, but not quickly returning, the pinnace was sent well manned to bring them off. Towards evening they both came back bringing with them a man clothed in goat-skins, who appeared wilder than the goats themselves. He seemed very much rejoiced at getting on board, but at first could not speak plainly, only dropping a few words of English by times, and without much connection. However, in two or three days he began to talk, when he stated that, having been four years and as many months upon the island without any human creature with whom to converse, he had forgotten the use of his tongue. He had been so long inured to water and such insipid food as he could pick up, that it was some time before he could reconcile himself to the ship’s victuals, or to the taking of a dram. He stated that he was a native of Largo, in Fifeshire, that his name was Alexander Selkirk, and that he had belonged to a ship called the Cinque Ports, commanded by one Stradling, who, upon some difference, set him on shore here, leaving him a firelock with some powder and ball, a knife, a hatchet, a kettle, some mathematical instruments, a Bible, and two or three other useful books, with a small quantity of tobacco, a bed, bedding, etcetera. At first his loneliness weighed heavily on his spirits, but in time he became inured to it, and got the better of his melancholy. He had erected two huts, one of which served him for a kitchen, the other for a dining-room and bed-chamber. They were made of pimento wood, which supplied him also with fire and candle, burning very clear, and yielding a most refreshing fragrant smell. The roof of his hut was of long grass, and it was lined with the skins of goats, nearly five hundred of which he had killed during his residence on the island, besides having caught above five hundred more, which he marked on the ears, and then set at liberty. When his ammunition was exhausted he caught them by running, and so active was he, that the swiftest goat upon the island was scarcely a match for him. While the ships remained, Mr Selkirk often accompanied the men to hunt the goats with the dogs, whom he always distanced, and frequently tired out. At first, for want of salt, he was unable to relish his food, which consisted of goats’ flesh and crawfish, but in time he took to seasoning it with pimento fruit, which is not unlike the black pepper of Jamaica. At first the rats plagued him very much, growing so bold as to gnaw his feet and clothes while he slept. However, he managed to tame some cats which had been left on shore, and these soon kept the rats at a distance. He also made pets of a few kids, and used to divert himself by dancing among them, and teaching them a thousand tricks. When his clothes were worn out, he made a fresh suit of goat-skins joined together with thongs which he had cut with his knife, and which he ran through holes made with a nail instead of a needle. He had a piece of linen remaining, of which he made a shirt to wear next his skin. In a month’s time he had no shoes left, and his feet having been so long bare were now become quite callous, and it was some time after he had been on board that he could wear a shoe.
Alexander Selkirk subsequently entered the Royal Navy and became a lieutenant. A monument to his memory was erected on the island of Juan Fernandez by the captain and officers of a British ship of war which touched there a few years ago. On Selkirk’s adventures Daniel Defoe founded his immortal story of “Robinson Crusoe.”
For some time before the end of Queen Anne’s reign no general action worthy of particular mention was fought, although in several engagements between single ships or small squadrons the seamen of England maintained the honour of the British flag. At length, in 1713, the peace of Utrecht put an end to the war. During it the French had been deprived of all pretensions to the dominion of the sea. England had gained and retained possession of Gibraltar, Minorca, Hudson’s Bay, the whole of Nova Scotia, the island of Saint Christopher, and also the chief part of Newfoundland; her fleets had literally swept the Mediterranean of all foes, scarcely a French ship daring to navigate its waters, and even the Algerines and other piratical states of Barbary, instead of paying court to the French, now yielded to us, and acknowledged the superiority of the British flag.