The Dutch began to fire at nine, Sir Ralph Delaval at half-past nine, and the centre at ten. At the two extremities the fighting was hot. Sir Ralph Delaval pressed eagerly on the squadron of Count D’Estrées, and pushed his attack with such energy that the enemy seemed to flinch. Sir John Ashby in the van found himself abreast of Tourville. He fired two guns in order to see whether the Vice-Admiral du Ponant would be a “reasonable enemy.” Tourville disdained to strike first at his inferior in rank, and it was not until Ashby’s first broadside had been delivered that the Soleil Royal opened fire. The wind, which had been strong in the early morning was still blowing a good breeze. It was used by the ships at the head of the French line to work to windward. Between eleven and twelve o’clock they succeeded in doubling on the Dutch and putting them between two fires. Admiral Cullemburg’s squadron fought gallantly but was overpowered. What had happened was seen on the centre and rear. Torrington’s attention was called to the movement by his flag-captain who asked if he also intended to allow himself to be weathered. He answered that he did not, and began at once to work up to windward. As Sir Ralph Delaval had pressed closely on D’Estrées, he had fallen to leeward of the commander-in-chief, and there was an “elbow” in the English line. By two o’clock the wind fell away to a dead calm and movement became restricted on either side to what could be done by towing, or drifting along with the tide. Cannonading went on between the two stationary fleets for some time. At last the ebb-tide set up a strong westerly current. The Dutch dropped anchor with all sails set. As the French were not seamen enough to do the same thing they drifted to the west. One Dutch ship which was too much damaged to anchor floated away, and became a prize. Then Herbert drifted down to the neighbourhood of the Dutch and anchored close by them. The allies remained at anchor, till the easterly current began to flow with the flood-tide in the evening. Then they got up anchor and tided eastwards towards the Thames. The pursuit of Tourville was timid. He followed next day, but in line of battle which limited the speed of his fleet to that of the slowest vessel in it. To this timidity Torrington owed his safety from complete destruction. A few of the more severely crippled Dutch and English vessels were set on fire, but the great bulk of the allied fleet got safely into the Thames.

The subsequent movements of Tourville may be dismissed in a few lines. He remained in the Channel until the early days of August, ranging at will up and down and of course paralysing commerce, but he did nothing more against our coast than burn the little town of Teignmouth in South Devon. There was nothing in fact that he could do. The Jacobite rising did not take place because he had no troops to land to help the country gentlemen, who were resolved not to move until they were secure against being attacked by the Government’s forces before they were sufficiently organised to offer any resistance. In August Tourville returned quietly to Brest. There had been a furious outbreak of anger in the country against Torrington and a great movement of patriotism which was unspeakably to the advantage of King William’s government. Yet when Torrington was brought to trial in December he was acquitted. The acquittal was intelligible. King William’s victory at the Boyne, gained just after the battle of Beachy Head, had put the country into good humour, and the admiral’s most bitter accusers were the Dutch who were not popular in England. But it was none the less a misfortune. Torrington had not done his utmost. His position indeed was a difficult one, but it was not worse than Monk’s in 1666, or De Ruyter’s in 1672, ’73, and he had not behaved as these men had done. When a court martial could find no fault with his management it lowered the whole standard of conduct expected of an English naval officer. It showed that a man who leaned to the side of timidity would not be condemned by other officers. Then, too, the court, which could see nothing to blame in his feeble effort of attack on the 30th June, must have been composed of men of a lower level of intelligence than the sea chiefs, whether Dutch, or English of the previous wars. It laid the foundation of that pedantic adherence to the line and the practice of engaging from van to rear which afterwards led to the monstrous sentence on Admiral Mathews, to the helpless weakness of Byng, and to the stupidity of Graves. Perhaps the ugliest feature of the whole transaction was this, that the English excused Torrington very largely on the ground that the chief sufferers in the battle had been the Dutch. There was something very base in the code of honour of people who did not think it ignoble to throw the burden of battle on an ally.

While Tourville was ranging the Channel the English government had fitted out a fresh armament. It was put under the combined command of Sir Richard Haddock, Sir John Ashby, and Admiral Killigrew. This fleet could, however, do little. The French were no longer at sea, and the great ships were laid up as usual before the beginning of autumn. Yet one good piece of service was done before the year was closed. Marlborough had suggested that an expedition might be sent to act against the partisans of King James in the south of Ireland. The scheme was approved by King William, and Marlborough sailed in September, under an escort of third and fourth rates commanded by the admirals. Cork was taken on the 29th September, and the bulk of the ships then returned to the Channel, leaving a few to co-operate with Marlborough in the attack on Kinsale. This completed the expedition. A separate squadron of ships had cruised during this year on the coast of Ireland, under the command of Sir Cloudesley Shovell, and had co-operated in the taking of Duncannon.

In this year the French had again made very little use of their naval force. In spite of Tourville’s victorious cruise in the Channel, the English cause had advanced as a whole. King James had been beaten from the north and east of Ireland, and deprived of two very important ports in the south. That this was so was due to the little help afforded him by the French navy. King Louis seems never to have thought of keeping a squadron permanently on the coast of Ireland, though it would have been easy and manifestly advantageous so to do. In the Channel, Tourville had really effected very little. He is perhaps not to be blamed for retiring in August. Nobody then thought of keeping the great ships out in autumn, and the French ports in the Channel are very poor. But he had shown undeniable want of enterprise against Torrington. His pursuit had been so feeble after Beachy Head that we may doubt whether he was the man to have taken advantage of the weather-gage of the change of wind which Herbert feared had occurred. His own countrymen were ill-satisfied with him. The famous epigram of Seignelay that he was poltron de tête mais non de cœur, is well known. If this was all the French could do when their powers were at the best it would be the fault of the allies if they did not some day turn the tables on their enemy.

The operations of 1691 were of a nature to confirm this belief. A powerful fleet was sent to sea by the allies under the command of Russell. Its movements throughout the summer were wearisome and unimportant. It went to and fro between May and the beginning of autumn. In the meantime Tourville was at sea with a fleet of eighty sail of the line. His cruise is rather a famous passage in French naval history. He contrived to keep the sea without allowing himself to be forced to battle—and at last, by making clever use of a shift of wind, managed to get into Brest untouched by the allied fleet. The pride of the French of the time with this achievement, and the satisfaction they have expressed at it since, are the condemnation of a navy, and a method of conducting war. Tourville was quite strong enough to fight the allies, yet his movements were directed to avoiding battle and to capturing merchant ships. As a matter of fact, he missed his great prize, the Smyrna convoy, and in the meantime Limerick, King James’s last stronghold in Ireland, was taken, and the country thoroughly subdued. The great French fleet had preserved itself, but the King of France had lost an ally who kept up a useful diversion of the resources of England. A fighting force which makes it a principal object to avoid battle is doomed to defeat when it comes across an enemy who makes it a steady rule to fight. But the French never took the view that if you wish to use the sea you must drive your enemy off it, and if you want to do that you must smash him. In the dullest times the English navy has always understood that the beating of the French navy was the preliminary to everything else. The French government, which was much distressed by lack of money, was angry with Tourville for missing the convoy, and accused him of timidity.

In 1692 the French at last learnt by a painful experience the truth of Bacon’s saying that “Occasion turneth a bald noddle after she has presented her locks in front, and no hold taken, or at least turneth the handle of the bottle first to be received and afterwards the belly which is hard to clasp.” After wasting three years either in delivering their blows wide, or hitting feebly when the direction was good, the French at last made a serious effort to strike England to the heart. But what they might have done with a fair prospect of success in ’89, ’90, or ’91, they attempted with insufficient means in ’92. Their deficiencies were due to causes which a little foresight would have made them understand were sure to operate sooner or later. The events of ’90 had taught the English Government the necessity for vigorous preparations. At the same time an accident, such as was always likely to occur, prevented a timely concentration of their own forces. The Toulon fleet, under Châteaurenault, ought to have joined Tourville at Brest early in the year, but it was delayed by bad weather. It was, and always has been, a cause of weakness to the French that their two seacoasts on the Mediterranean and the Atlantic are separated from one another by the Spanish Peninsula. An enemy who is in a position to occupy the Straits of Gibraltar with a strong naval force is admirably placed, to prevent one-half of the French fleet from uniting with the other. Even when there was no hostile squadron in the Straits, persistent bad weather might confine the French in the Mediterranean. At a later date, attempted concentrations of the French fleet broke down from these very causes. But this was a probability which ought to have been provided for. Louis XIV. ought either to have made his officers act with more spirit or not to have allowed an important part of his fleet to go back to the Mediterranean at the close of ’91. As it was, his effort to carry out a scheme of invasion with a part of his naval force, when the whole of them would not have been too many, ended, as it was bound to end, in disastrous failure.

The allied Dutch and English fleets were out early. Their Governments had a double motive for wasting no time. They were aware that an army of invasion, consisting in part of Irish regiments in the service of France, was being collected in Normandy for the invasion of England. In spite of many disappointments King James was still hopeful, and he had persuaded the King of France to make an effort to help the Jacobites in England. The army of invasion, some 30,000 strong, was collected in the Côtentin. They were quartered at La Hougue, on the eastern side of the Côtentin. Another object for which the allies had to provide was the safe return of the ships, Dutch and English, composing the Smyrna convoy. It was coming home under the protection of a squadron commanded by Sir Ralph Delaval. In order to discharge the double duty of covering the return of the convoy and watching the French, a detached squadron under the command of Rear-Admiral Carter cruised on the coast from Brest to Cape La Hague, the north-westerly point of the Côtentin. Delaval brought his convoy back in March and then joined Carter on the coast of France. In later times the English navy would have prepared to prevent the concentration of the French fleet by cruising off Brest, but at the end of the seventeenth century our officers had not yet acquired that confidence in their vessels, and the vessels had not been so far perfected, as to make cruising in spring on so dangerous a coast as that about Brest appear practicable for the great ships. The grand fleet was not in fact fully ready for sea till May, when Russell called in the detached squadrons, and united his whole force at St. Helens.

There was another reason for bringing the fleet together. The Government had decided on making a demonstration. During the last few months, as indeed at all times in King William’s reign, the Jacobite agents had been very busy. The great discontent undoubtedly existing among the naval officers, and partly due to the grievances as to their pay, had appeared to give the friends of the exiled king an opportunity. Captain David Lloyd had been running to and fro with great zeal. His old comrades were too much attached to him to betray him to the Government even when they were opposed to his party, and there were no doubt great numbers of English naval officers who were as well disposed as other Englishmen to restore the exiled king if only he would not be his own worst enemy. These men would not be shocked by arguments in his favour. As they had themselves been praised and in some cases rewarded for deserting King James, it would be unreasonable to expect that they should have been greatly offended when asked by an old brother officer to desert back to him from King William. The activity of Lloyd was perfectly well known to the English Government. He had spoken to Carter, who had immediately reported the whole of the conversation to the queen. Lloyd himself does not appear to have taken all the grumblings he heard among his brother seamen very seriously, and the Council of Regency was probably not very frightened. But it wisely decided to bring all doubts to the test. On the 15th May a letter drawn up in the queen’s name by the Secretary, Nottingham, was sent down to the flag officers and captains of the fleet. In this letter the queen informed them that she had heard stories accusing them of disloyalty but she did not believe the accusations, and continued to repose the most complete confidence in their fidelity. This profession of a confidence it would have been wise to assume, even if it had not been sincerely felt, was at once communicated by Russell to his subordinates. It had the effect which had been hoped for. The fleet answered by unanimous expression of loyalty. An address expressing the perfect readiness of all the officers to venture their lives, with all imaginable “alacrity and resolution,” in defence “of the Government and of the religion and liberty of the country and against all Popish invaders whatsoever,” was drawn up and signed on behalf of the fleet by sixty-four flag officers and captains.

An opportunity was speedily given to these officers to show that they could be as good as their word. A council of war decided to take the initiative against the French. A body of troops was to be landed at St. Malo, while the allied fleet was to lie to the westward of that place in order to provoke a battle. On the 18th May, Russell sailed from St. Helens, and on the following day when he was about twenty miles off Cape Barfleur, the easterly corner of the Côtentin, the look-out ships to the westward of the fleet made the signal for seeing the enemy. In fact, while the allies had been talking of invading France, Tourville had sailed from Brest with the intention of covering an invasion of England, and after suffering some delay from the weather had come so far. The two fleets now opposed to one another were divided as follows, and consisted of the elements shown on these lists:—

The list of the French fleet given by Monsieur Troude is as follows:—

It will be seen that the force of the two fleets was extremely unequal; the allies being in fact more than twice as strong as their enemy. If this was a surprise to the French, the information supplied to Louis XIV. by the Jacobites in England, and by his agents in the Low Countries, must have been far less accurate than is commonly supposed. If, on the other hand, he really did believe that the grumblers in the English fleet, and that Russell the admiral, who was undoubtedly in communication with the exiled court at St. Germain, would betray their country to its hereditary enemy on the field of battle, and under the eyes of all the world, he must have been singularly impervious to experience. Tourville received peremptory orders, dated the 26th March, and worded in a style insulting to him. He was told to go near enough to the enemy to see them for himself, and not to be misled into believing that merchant-ships were men-of-war, as he was accused of doing during the off-shore cruise of 1691. If on reaching La Hougue he found the allies already there, he was to attack them whatever their numbers might be. If victorious, he was to cover the passage of the army to England. If defeated, he was to save his fleet as he best could. Should the allies not be near La Hougue when he arrived, he was to transport the army without waste of time. If the allies attacked him during the passage, he was to fight with obstinacy, so as to give the army time to land. In case the allies appeared after the landing, he might avoid a battle if they exceeded in number by ten ships.

When the French were signalled by the guns of the look-out ships at three o’clock on the morning of the 19th, the weather was foggy. Fearing that the enemy might stretch past him to northward, Russell signalled to the rear to tack and close the space between him and the coast of England. At four o’clock the mist lifted and the enemy were seen to the westward with their heads pointing to the south. As this showed that they had no intention of attempting to turn him on the north side Russell countermanded the order to the Rear or Blue Division. The allied fleet was not in order of battle but scattered some ahead, some to windward, and some to leeward of the admiral. The wind was blowing from the S.W., and the French therefore had the weather-gage. The line was formed at eight o’clock with the Dutch or White Squadron in the van, and to the south of the Red Squadron which formed the centre, then came the Blue Squadron farthest to the north. There must have been a distance of many miles between the first and last ship of this great fleet of ninety-nine sail, and the Blue Squadron was still to leeward. Having made his simple disposition to meet the attack Russell lay with his topsail to the mast waiting for the enemy to come on. With a resolution of character which shows his innate superiority to Herbert, Tourville charged home. He directed his attack on the centre of the allied line, telling off a few ships in his van and rear to watch the van and rear of the allies, and prevent them from doubling on his own fleet.

The battle began about ten o’clock, and lasted till about five in the afternoon. The French ships engaged with the Red Division made no attempt to break through the English line. The battle was conducted entirely by cannonading at short ranges, and the English claimed that their fire was more rapid than the French. When the enemy’s attack was fully developed Russell ordered the van to tack for the purpose of getting to windward of the French, and putting them between two fires, and at the same time signalled to the Blue Division to come closer to the centre. Neither order could be obeyed, for the wind was very light so that the ships were unable to manœuvre. The real battle was always between the Red Squadron and the ships immediately around Tourville. About two o’clock in the afternoon the wind, after falling altogether, rose again, but from the N.W., thus giving the weather-gage to the allies, and by five o’clock Tourville began to draw off. He doubtless felt that enough had been done for honour, and he hoped that the Red Squadron had been sufficiently mauled to cripple it from pursuing him. The wind was light and variable. As the French ships drew away to the westward it fell calm and the mist arose again; then there was a short squall from the east. Sir Cloudesley Shovell with the rear division of the Red Squadron broke through the French in the interval between the centre and the ships which had been stretched out to observe the rear of the allies. Captain Hastings of the Sandwich was killed at this phase of the action. The two fleets became mingled in the fog, and drifted to the westward with the ebb-tide. Both anchored at the flood, but at this moment a portion of the Blue Squadron which had worked to the westward of the French drifted back through them in the mist and darkness. They were fired on as they came through, and Rear-Admiral Carter, whose division made this movement, was killed. The sound of the cannonading was heard by the rest of the allied fleet, but it could take no part in the action. When he saw that the enemy was in retreat Russell had ordered a general chase, that is to say he left each ship free to go at its utmost speed. But no great rapidity of movement was possible. The wind had fallen, and the fog made it impossible to see.

This was the end of what strictly speaking is called the battle of La Hogue, from the old spelling of La Hougue. The name is improperly used, for the actual battle was fought off Cape Barfleur. The battle of Barfleur was in fact the title commonly given by our ancestors, but it has been displaced by the name of the place which was the last scene of the four days’ pursuit following on the action. The pursuit began like a nightmare, in strenuous effort to act without the power to move. Both fleets had anchored during the night. When daylight came there was a thick haze and the French were invisible to the allied fleet. What little wind there was, was from the N.N.E. At about eight o’clock some of the Dutch ships caught sight of the enemy to the W.S.W. The pursuit was resumed, but, as the ships could not move more quickly than they were carried by the tide, the progress was very slow. At four o’clock in the afternoon the ebb-tide ceased, and both fleets again anchored, the French in order to avoid the risk of being carried among their pursuers, and the allies so that they should not lose ground. They had moved so little during the ebb-tide that they were still off Cape Barfleur, and at no great distance from the scene of the battle. As long as the tide was flowing it was useless to move, but at ten in the evening, when it turned, both fleets again got under way and began to drift to the west. About this time the fore-topmast of the Britannia, which had been seriously injured in the action, came down, and as Russell did not transfer his flag to another vessel, this delayed the Red Squadron under his immediate command. Many of them must have suffered in the action. Whether because they felt bound to remain about their admiral, or because they could not move any faster, the ships of the Red Squadron fell somewhat behind in the pursuit while the Blue and White pressed on ahead. At four in the morning of the 21st both fleets anchored again. They had now tided so far that they were almost off Cape La Hague. Both were much scattered. A part of the French had passed the Cape, the others had not. Among those which had failed to get beyond the headland was the Soleil Royal, Tourville’s flagship. She had suffered very severely in the action from the fire of the Britannia and the ships just ahead and astern. It has been said with some appearance of truth that if Tourville had had the resolution to set her on fire he might have brought the whole of his fleet round Cape La Hague. But she was the pride of the French Navy, and had been named from the king himself who was the royal sun of France, and the admiral could not make his mind up to sacrifice her. He had, however, transferred his flag to another ship the Ambitieux.

When the fleets were ordered to anchor, only a portion of the French was able to obey. Whether it was because they had slipped their cables on the previous night, and therefore could not anchor, or whether their anchors would not hold, it is certain that they were unable to stop themselves from being carried to the eastward towards the allies. The position then in the early hours of the 21st was this, one part of the French fleet was ahead, to the west another part was drifting eastward between the land and the allies. The best sailing ships of the White and Blue Squadrons were well ahead of Russell, who with the Red Squadron was furthest of all to the east. The inability of the ships immediately about him to anchor showed Tourville that it was useless to endeavour to keep his now divided fleet acting as one body any longer. If he summoned the ships to the west to his assistance he would bring the whole fleet into a trap between the land and the enemy, who was in overwhelming numbers. Since he could no longer exercise his powers as commander to any advantage there remained nothing for him but to abdicate. He therefore hauled down his flag of command from the main-topmast-head, as a signal that every captain was free to act as he thought best for the safety of his ship. The French fleet now split into fragments. One part, under the Chef d’escadre Pannetier made a push for the Channel between the coast of France and the island of Alderney. The easterly current of the flood-tide splits at Cape La Hague. While the main body flows up Channel a branch turns off, and runs with great speed between the west side of the Côtentin and the island of Alderney. This makes what we call the Race of Alderney, and the French the Raz Blanchard. The navigation is dangerous, and would, under ordinary circumstances, have been avoided by the heavy ships, but circumstances only left the French a choice of evils, and they ran through the Race to seek refuge under the guns of St. Malo.

Russell, seeing that the division of the French and the distress of the vessels drifting towards him made it no longer necessary to keep his fleet together, signalled to Ashby, and the Dutch to pursue Pannetier. Meanwhile he, with the Red Division and the laggards of the White and Blue, prepared to deal with those of Tourville’s ships which had failed to round La Hague. Ashby could not reach the enemy. Pannetier had time to get his ships over the bar of the Rance, and take refuge under the guns of the corsair town of St. Malo, before his pursuers reached him. Ashby returned next day and joined Sir Ralph Delaval, who, in the meantime, had done a good stroke of work at Cherbourg. When it became clear that they were trapped the ships of Tourville had no resource but to endeavour to fly to the eastward between Russell and the land, to round Cape Barfleur and to take refuge at La Hougue. Three of them were too crippled for further flight. These were the famous Soleil Royal, for whose sake so much had been risked, the Admirable, and the Triomphant. All three were run ashore at Cherbourg, and the others fled eastward. Russell left Sir Ralph Delaval to deal with the stranded ships, and followed the rest. Delaval could do nothing on the evening of the 21st, but on the following morning he sent in the boats and fireships, under the command of Captain Heath, Captain Greenaway, and Captain Foulis. The Admirable and Triomphant were burnt. But the fireship with which Captain Foulis endeavoured to burn the Soleil Royal was sunk by the Frenchmen’s fire. Hereupon, Delaval hauled in as close as he could and opened fire on the great stranded flagship. When he had battered her for some time, and found that no further resistance was made, he took his boats and boarded her. Sir Ralph Delaval’s report contains a detail which is discreditable to King Louis’s navy. He says he found many men and wounded men in the Soleil Royal, but no officers. She was burnt by the English. When the work was done Sir Ralph was disturbed by thirty sail approaching him from the west. This, however, turned out to be Sir John Ashby’s squadron, and the two officers united their forces, and followed the admiral to the east. A few of the French ships under command of Nesmond escaped by sailing round the British Isles.

Russell pursued Tourville round Cape Barfleur. The French admiral ran as close as he could to La Hougue, with the thirteen vessels still about him. It was not until the evening of the 22nd, so light was the wind and so slow were the ships of that time amid tides and variable breezes, that Russell was able to anchor in the neighbourhood of the fugitives. On the 23rd he sent in the boats and fireships under Rooke, who burnt six of the enemy. On the 24th the work was completed by the destruction of the other seven. The French indeed were panic-stricken, and the resistance was trifling. Not more than ten men were killed in this piece of service, which if attempted against an alert and resolute enemy must needs have been very costly.

The battle pursuit and destruction spread over these five days, and included under the name of “La Hogue” make nearly the last passage of naval warfare of a brilliant decisive character which we shall meet for three-quarters of a century. The navy had work of vital importance to do, and a function of unusual importance to fulfil. But it was no longer to meet equal fleets at sea, except on rare occasions, and when it did its own method of fighting was dull. The French fleet very soon ceased to contend with the allies in the ocean and channel altogether, and in the Mediterranean its efforts were spasmodic. The great change has been attributed to the disaster of La Hogue, without sufficient reason. We have seen that the operations of the French in previous years had been very languid. Their weakness during the rest of the war was to be mainly attributed to the French king’s want of money. His resources were overburdened by the war on land against the League of Augsburg, and he could not afford to fit out great fleets. But to our ancestors the importance of the battle of La Hogue was naturally a subject of high gratification. The material loss inflicted on King Louis was considerable, and the blow to his prestige greater still. They could feel that the Channel was now safe, not indeed from privateers, but from great fleets sent out to cover an invasion of England. Besides, after the spiritless straggling operations of the last three years, the resolution of Russell and the vigour of his pursuit were an immense change for the better.

The decline of the French navy was not immediately visible. An attempt to attack St. Malo at the close of 1692 was given up as hopeless, and the ships under Pannetier’s command were able to make their way to Brest undisturbed. In 1693 the French even achieved a considerable measure of success, partly through their own good management, and partly by the help of mistakes of the English Government. Russell was no longer at sea. The shifting politics of the time, and his own position as one of the leaders of the Whig party, combined with the king’s discovery of his intrigues with St. Germain to remove him from command. His place was taken by Killigrew, Delaval, and Shovell, who were combined in a joint commission as admiral. The practice of giving the command at sea to a committee was once more revived because the Government distrusted a single command. The result was to discredit for ever the appointment of several men to do work which most especially requires unity of will and authority.

The fleet was collected under the joint admirals in April. It was not manned without great difficulty. Crews had to be found by taking men out of the privateers and by embarking five regiments of soldiers to serve as marines. Neither the Government nor the admirals had any definite plan of operations for the year. But an object was found for them by the necessity of escorting the Mediterranean trade safe on its way. The French privateers had been very active, and the convoy work at least of the English navy very badly done. Ships had remained in port rather than face the risk of making a passage. The necessities of the English and Dutch revenue compelled the Government to forward the trade, and so a squadron was told off under the command of Rooke and the Dutch admiral Van der Goes, to carry the outward-bound Smyrna convoy into the Mediterranean. The twenty-three ships, Dutch and English, appointed to protect the convoy would have been insufficient to deal with the Brest fleet, and the admirals were therefore ordered to see Rooke and his Dutch colleague well past Ushant. In the latter days of May the whole force was collected and sailed with the merchant ship under its protection in the beginning of June. By an oversight, which reflects very little credit on their intelligence, the admirals omitted to find out whether the French were in Brest or not. They had been ordered to accompany the convoy thirty leagues past Ushant, and they reached that point on the 4th of June. Not being satisfied that enough had been done for safety they exceeded their instructions so far as to continue with the merchant ships till they were fifty leagues W.S.W. off the island of Ushant. Then they left them and returned to the Channel. It is an example of the vices still prevailing in our naval administration that though the fleet had only just been collected it was in want of provisions already. When the admirals had returned to Torbay they learnt what they ought to have been at the trouble to find out before, namely, that Tourville had left Brest. At the same time the English Consul at Leghorn forwarded information that the French Toulon fleet was ready to sail from Toulon. This report did not reach the admirals till the 13th June. When it was too late they realised the extent of the danger threatening Rooke. Tourville had in fact sailed south in May with orders to wait for the convoy. Messages were sent in hot haste to warn Rooke of his danger, but the disaster had happened before they could reach him.

While the admirals and Government were realising their mistake and were looking forward to the inevitable outcry in the City and House of Commons, the great convoy had been rolling southward at a speed regulated by the slowest of the merchant ships, happy if it made three miles an hour in favourable circumstances. It reached Cape St. Vincent on the 17th June. Here Rooke despatched a look-out vessel ahead, to see if there were any enemies in Lagos Bay, on the south coast of Portugal between Cape St. Vincent and Faro. The wind was very light, and the convoy made little progress. Next day the frigates discovered ten sail of French ships standing out of Lagos. The position was an extremely difficult one. With a large force of men-of-war so close at hand there was little hope of safety in flight for heavily laden merchant ships. It was decided to make a push for the friendly Spanish port of Cadiz. The wind from the N.N.W. was still light, and it might be that the French being to leeward would be unable to work up. But this course, though perhaps the best, where all were bad, led the convoy right into the jaws of Tourville’s fleet of eighty-six sail. Battle was hopeless, and flight not much better. Yet to run was all there was to do. The French advanced squadron had fallen back merely to draw the convoy on, and even if the bait had not succeeded there could have been but one end to the meeting. A hurry and a scurry such as may easily be imagined followed. Some of the small ships ran close in shore, by Rooke’s orders, and endeavoured to find a refuge in Faro, San Lucar, or Cadiz. By these we must understand very small craft from 40 to 100 tons. The heavier ships, meaning boats from 150 to 300 tons, the size of a large merchant ship of those times, did their best to shelter themselves behind Rooke and Van der Goes, and they all struggled to get away into the open sea. The Dutch warships were in more danger than our own, for being in the van they were to leeward and nearer the French. Tourville must have suffered from a constitutional inability to act with energy except by fits and starts. He now repeated, and with even less excuse, the very mistake he made after the battle of Beachy Head. His pursuit was slack. Some of the Dutch ships were overtaken and captured after a gallant resistance. But Rooke was able to carry a great part of the convoy to Madeira, and from thence home to Cork. He joined the admiral in the Channel in August. Tourville, after giving up the pursuit of Rooke too early, returned to the Straits where he spent his time in capturing or destroying the smaller merchant vessels. The total loss to the Dutch and English was put down at twenty-nine vessels taken and fifty destroyed.

This business of the Smyrna convoy may be said to be the turning-point of the war. Louis XIV. had sent Tourville to capture the Smyrna convoy mainly because he looked to gain money. In the following year he ordered the Brest fleet into the Mediterranean, and he made no serious attempt to contend with the allies in the western seas during the remainder of the war. At the time, and while the smart of the loss was fresh in England and Holland, this could not be known. The capture of the convoy led to a furious outcry against the Admiralty in England, and to violent inconclusive discussions in Parliament. Yet it was the direct cause of a great change for the better. The Government was fully waked up to the necessity of taking its fleet more seriously in hand. The effort to conduct a war by a committee was given up. Russell was restored to the command. At the same time, the officers were stimulated to do their work with a better heart by increase of pay and the establishment of the half-pay list. With sinking energy on the side of the French and increasing efficiency on our own the naval war took a new character. From this time forward there was an overwhelming superiority on the side of the allies. England came to contribute an increasing proportion of the naval force employed, for the land war was straining Holland to the utmost. When the struggle with Louis XIV. came to an end at the Peace of Utrecht, England was much the one unrivalled sea power as she was when Napoleon surrendered to Captain Maitland of the Bellerophon.