Rodney 18

Rodney 18

The days immediately following the battle were spent in hard work.

Although he had missed victory Rodney was not beaten, and determined to

show the Frenchmen as much. He therefore resolutely kept the sea, and

barred their road to Fort Royal. The _Sandwich_ was so battered that for

twenty-four hours she was in danger of sinking. Rodney shifted his flag

to the _Montague_. The damage was repaired at sea. As the French, who

are driven to some straits to find victories at sea, have claimed April

17th as one, we may pardonably remind them that quiescence on the part

of their admiral seems to show they were as badly mauled as we were. On

the 20th, three days after the battle, the French reappeared to the

north, but on finding the English waiting for them, made off at once.

Guichen took his ships northward to the Dutch, and then neutral, island

of St. Eustatius, where he was able to refit, which does not look like

the conduct of an officer who felt conscious of superiority. After

cruising for a few days longer in sight of Martinique, to the no small

disturbance of the French colonists, Rodney, seeing that Guichen had

retreated, went south himself to Santa Lucia, leaving frigates to watch

Fort Royal. At Choque Bay he was able to get fresh water, to land his

sick and wounded, and to complete his repairs.

 

On May 6th the look-out frigates reported that the French had

reappeared; this time to the eastward of Martinique. Rodney at once put

to sea with nineteen line-of-battle ships and two of fifty guns, turning

to the windward of Santa Lucia by the north to meet the Frenchman. He

had now an opportunity of doing what he told his wife greatly needed to

be done--namely, of teaching his captains to be officers. “Every captain

in this fleet,” he once said to Gilbert Blane, “thinks himself fit to be

Prime Minister of Great Britain.” The Admiral was resolved to show them

that they should not disobey, or show a want of promptitude in obeying,

the orders of George Brydges Rodney. He set resolutely to work to bring

them to a proper degree of smartness. While he was manœuvring in

front of Guichen the days were passed in tacking in succession or

tacking together, in wearing in succession or together, in forming

column and forming line. Whenever a ship was out of her station her

signal was made, and she was publicly rebuked without regard to the

seniority of her captain, or to the fact that she carried an admiral’s

flag. Rodney even threatened to hoist his flag in a frigate in order to

observe the line from a distance the better. It is easy to understand

that such schooling was disagreeable to old captains who thought

themselves masters of their profession. Rodney’s second in command, Sir

Hyde Parker, a thorough seaman and solid fighter of the old stamp, was

wrought by it into a state of sullen fury. When he returned to England a

few months later he was with difficulty restrained by Sandwich from

rushing into a pamphleteering attack on his late commander. For the

present, however, there was nothing for it but obedience. At the end of

a few days the lesson had been taught, and the English squadron

manœuvred with the precision of Frederick’s grenadiers. Rodney might

have found a more excellent way. If he had had more of the kindly

good-fellowship of Nelson, if he had been wont to talk things over and

explain his ideas to his captains, to get the wild ducks out after

dinner and work out problems, it might have been better for his glory.

But this was not Rodney’s way. He lived apart from his captains, whom he

generally regarded as his social inferiors--neither asking for their

friendship nor giving them his--asking only for that implicit obedience

which he was ready to render to his own official superiors. As a natural

consequence he got obedience, but he won none of that loyal devotion

which bound Collingwood, or Hallowell, or Hoste to Nelson. His relations

to his subordinates were always strained. They knew that he expected

them to act only on his order, therefore they would do just what they

were ordered and nothing more. He could never shut up his signal-book as

Nelson could, with the confidence that he had instilled his spirit into

his captains and could trust them to act in it. On Rodney’s part,

however, it is only fair to remember that the relations of Nelson to his

captains were exceptional, and would not have been possible unless he

had been absolutely sure of their spirit of discipline. In the American

War the bonds of discipline required to be tightened, and Rodney did

well to tighten them. To say that he could not temper command by

good-fellowship, that he could order but could not inspire, is to say

that he had not the genial temperament of the very greatest stamp of

leader, of a Nelson or of a Gustavus Adolphus, to whom, king as he was,

all soldiers were brothers, who knew that his personal influence would

give him all the superiority he wanted. To that race Rodney did not

belong.

 

The second phrase, as the fencing men would say, of the duel with

Guichen was pure manœuvring on both sides--mere doubling and

disengaging. The Frenchman, who had the advantage of the wind when they

met, took care not to lose it, and though he had a distinct superiority

in number of ships, would not force on a battle. According to the

French historians it was the English admiral who avoided action. It does

not seem to strike them as absurd that, if it were so, Guichen did not

bear down, and either force him to stand, or chase him ignominiously

into Santa Lucia, as on this supposition he could have done. The facts

show that Guichen was by no means anxious for a close fight. He would

come down in line of battle to just out of gunshot, and there parade in

defiance much as a mischievous boy might flaunt a red rag at a bull from

the safe side of a fence; but so soon as the English seemed to be coming

into striking distance the French worked up to windward at once. “They

kept,” said Rodney, “an awful distance.” It was a somewhat risky game,

for the fence was not quite permanent. Though the trade wind blows from

the east it does not blow always from the same point of east, and a

slight shift in it might enable Rodney to get to windward. Once it did

give him the chance, but only for a moment. Then it dropped back and the

Frenchman slipped off. During the fortnight in which the two fleets were

zigzagging in front of one another, the Frenchman always breaking

measure, to take to fencing language again, so soon as the English were

within lunging distance, there were two partial actions, one on the 15th

the other on May 19th. On one if not on both of these occasions the

English fleet could have forced on a battle by steering into the rear of

the French line, and so cutting off the last three or four ships. If

this had been done Guichen must either have left his tail behind him

like the lizard, or have fought a real battle. But Rodney was not

prepared to break away from the old system of tactics as yet. He could

only use it with more tactical judgment than his contemporaries. These

actions, therefore, presented no particular novelty, and were thoroughly

feeble. At last the two fleets separated by mutual consent. Both were in

fact in a very bad condition. The use of copper sheathing was only

coming in among ourselves. The French had not begun to use it. Ships,

being unprotected against barnacles and worms, grew rapidly foul and

leaky. Some of Rodney’s were in an almost sinking state, and Guichen’s

were not in better case. Finally, the admirals were glad enough to

separate, and return to port on May 21st. Guichen steered for Fort Royal

round the north end of Martinique, Rodney sent three ships into Santa

Lucia, and then made his way with the bulk of his fleet to Barbadoes, in

order to be on the spot if the French should persevere in their designs

on that island.

 

Practically this was the end of the measuring of swords between Rodney

and Guichen. There was no further fighting or attempts to fight among

the Lesser Antilles that year. Hardly had Rodney reached Carlisle Bay in

Barbadoes before he received news which materially altered the position.

It was brought by Captain Mann of the _Cerberus_, who, while cruising

off Cadiz early in the month, had sighted a large convoy under the

protection of a squadron of line-of-battle ships steering to the west.

He followed them in the hope of cutting off one of the merchant ships,

and so learning more about them. The enemy was too vigilant, but he saw

enough to convince him that this was a Spanish force on its way to the

West Indies. Captain Mann used his discretion in the right way. He left

his station and hurried with the news to the Antilles. Soon other

messages to the same effect arrived from Commodore Johnstone’s squadron

on the coast of Portugal. Rodney made all possible haste to sea and

resumed his cruising to windward of Martinique. But the Spanish

commander, Don Jose Solano, was a more capable man than Langara. He had

foreseen the possibility that the English might be at sea on this

station, and therefore steered farther to the north so as to enter by

the Saints’ Passage between Dominica and Guadaloupe. Then he anchored in

Prince Rupert’s Bay in Dominica, and there waited to be joined by

Guichen. The meeting was effected, and the force of the enemy thereby

raised to thirty-six line-of-battle ships. It was hopeless to attempt an

attack on such a force, and Rodney made at once for Gros Islet Bay in

Santa Lucia. He moored his fleet under the protection of batteries, and

fortified Pigeon Island. The measure was destined to be the salvation of

the station in the next year, but for the present its worth was not put

to the test. The Spaniards were as usual much more a hindrance than a

help to their allies. They had the plague on board, and were dying like

sheep with the rot, or as they say themselves--say with less than their

habitual felicity of __EXPRESSION__--_como chinchas_, which, saving the

reader’s reverence, are bugs. This great force therefore did nothing.

Don Jose was so cowed by the wretched state of his squadron that he

insisted on being convoyed to San Domingo by Guichen. From thence he

made the best of his way to Havannah. No wonder that French and English

naval officers alike prayed that they might have the Spaniard as an

enemy but never as a friend. As soon as he had seen his burdensome

allies well into the Bahama Channel, Guichen, who knew that his

squadron was worn out and saw the hurricane months close on him, left

the West Indies. After touching on the coast of the insurgent colonies

he, to the bitter disappointment of the rebels, insisted on sailing for

Europe. The West Indies were thus practically clear of enemies.

 

In the meantime Rodney had been waiting for the attack which never came.

Early in July he was reinforced by a squadron from England under the

command of Captain Walsingham, but it was now too late to do anything.

The hurricane months were just beginning. A very rude rhyme has been

formed to aid the mariner’s memory, and it limits the hurricane season

with reasonable accuracy--

 

June too soon,

July stand by,

August look out you must,

September remember,

October all over.

 

In this July Rodney decided to leave waters in which nothing could now

be done. He sent the trading ships, which had collected for convoy, to

Europe under charge of Sir Hyde Parker and those of his captains whom he

desired might be better strangers to him in future. Rowley and

Walsingham were ordered to Jamaica. The safety of the Lesser Antilles

was provided for sufficiently, and then he sailed for Sandy Hook himself

with ten line-of-battle ships and a frigate.

 

The campaign of 1780 had done nothing to diminish the reputation Rodney