HE BRIBED, he lied, he swindled. He looted, pillaged and burned. He gambled all night, then drank champagne at eleven o'clock in the morning. He drank lemonade from an easy chair while he watched thousands of men die before his very eyes. But best of a// he wargamed with miniatures!

The next time someone thinks you look childish for pushing toys around, or your wife or girl friend tells you to get a life, just remember this true story of a real historical naval hero and bona fide scoundrel.

The story begins in 18th century England. Naval warfare miniaturing and ship modeling was quite popular in those days. The Royal Navy's exploits were followed by just about anyone who could read. Navy successes brought cheering crowds into the streets, and losses stimulated editorials. letters, petitions from all across the country. The reason for this was pretty obvious; the island nation of England (later Great Britain) lived and prospered, or shriveled and died, by the successes and failures of its navy. The Navy secured the country's over-seas empire that brought food, trade and prosperity to it's shores.

George Brydges Rodney was born to an impoverished captain of the Royal Marines who had lost his money in investments in the South Seas that didn't pan out. He was still able to secure an education for the boy at Harrow, where young

George was fascinated by the ship models kept on display at the school.

Midshipman

At the age of 14 he was appointed a midshipmen on H.M.S. Sunderland. It was while he was on the Sunderland that he was first introduced to naval miniaturing as a method of teaching future naval officers naval tactics as set down in the manual known as "Fighting Instructions".

He was made lieutenant of the H.M.S. Dolphin when he was 21 during the War of Jenkins Ear (later known as the War of the Austrian Succession). Then post captain of the H.M.S. Plymouth in 1742, when he was 24. As commander he enjoyed reviewing tactics with his subordinates, using cherry pits, wines glasses or any thing else handy if models or miniatures were not on hand to drive home his point.

After the war he was beached and moved to London, where he developed some of his other hobbies, including gambling, drinking and wenching. He got himself elected to Parliament in 1751 and took full advantage of the constitutional system of graft that ran British politics to cover his gambling debts. It was in London that he met the wife with whom he later had four daughters.

Seven Years War

May 28 of 1754 saw the opening of the 7 Years War in the Allegheny Mountains of North America (why it's called the 7 Years War is beyond me - it began in 1754 and ended on November 3rd 1762, with the Peace of Fountainbleu, which is actually 8 and a half years!). Rodney was put in command of H.M.S. Dublin of 74 guns. He then proceeded to participate in the raiding, invasion and looting of Louisbourg, Canada (Quebec back then) in 1758, capturing and burning large numbers of ships in the "English Channel" and off the French coast of Normandy 1759-61, then more raiding, invading, looting and pillaging in the West Indies in 1762, including the islands of Martinique, St. Lucia, and St. Vincent, and capturing the city of Havana, which he held from August 10th until the end of the war, when Parliament made him give it back.

Needless to say, he made a fortune in booty - in the order of several hundred thousand pounds, which was quite a lot back then, and reached the rank of Admiral. Unfortunately, he partied hard too, and lost all his money by 1774, when he had to flee to France to escape his creditors. With a help of a French friend he paid off his debts and returned to England, just in time for them to go to war again with France. The British Admiralty promptly sent him back to the West Indies where he captured and looted the island of St. Eustatius, which promptly entangled him in lawsuits over all the booty he pocketed there. He was recalled to England to wait on his lawyer in London to sort out who got what. During this time he read a book by the famous Scottish naval wargamer John Clerk on the new tactic of cutting-the- line.

For the previous 100 years or so large naval fleet actions had consisted of the two opposing two fleets lining their ships up opposite of each other and blasting away until one surrendered or disengaged. This method was outlined under "Fighting Instructions" an old tome that outlined how a naval battle should be fought.

Well this had worked fine as long as the enemy was willing to cooperate by doing the same and you had more fire power. In the last few wars this was exactly the case for the British, so the admiralty had the attitude that "if it works, why change it?".

Well the French in this war had figured out a way to change that (and lucky for us Americans they did or we wouldn't be here today). They improved their ships, their crews, their ammunition and their tactics. They were now building the best ships in the world, with a heavier broadside per rate, they trained their crews to shoot accurately at long range (where the British guns were less effective), they developed a new form of shot (chain) to tear up the British ships' rigging, and finally they used new tactics that pulled all of these factors together.

When the French engaged in a naval battle with the British they shot up the British ships' sails at a longer range than the British preferred and then sailed on to their objectives. This had cost the British several battles, including Ushant in 1778 and Chesapeake Bay in 1781.

Outrage

Needless to say, the British public were outraged and disgusted by their navy's recent performance, and so land-lubber/merchant /amateur admiral/naval wargaming enthusiast John Clerk stepped forward with his book An Essay on Naval Tactics. This book had just what the British navy needed - a new approach. Instead of just forming a line ahead in the hope that the French would oblige by sailing up real close where the British guns worked best, Clerk suggested that the British fleets sail straight through the enemy line, thus breaking it into small pieces that could be overwhelmed at close range, one section at a time. By the time the other parts of the enemy fleet had time to sail back into formation, the British would have destroyed half the enemy ships. Unfortunately nobody in the aristocratic British admiralty would take the "upstart land-lubber' seriously, that is, until Rodney got a hold of it.

Vain, selfish, fortune-hungry, and stern, Rodney treated his officers and men like lackeys. He constantly reminded his officers that "the painful task of thinking" was his, and his alone. He did, however, have an open mind. After reading Clerk's book, Rodney commented "damme, Paul, if I get near that rascal de Grasse, I'll break his line," when asked about the French admiral in the West Indies by the son of Cawsand port commissioner Paul Ourry.

And just a few months later, he did break de Grasse's line - at the battle of the Saints, in the Leeward Islands. While sitting in his ottoman armchair and foot rest which he had brought up to the quarter deck, drinking lemonade and sucking a lime, he gave the order to his flag captain, Douglas (another naval wargamer and friend of John Clerk) to turn to starboard and cut the French line. This resulted in the slaughter 2,000 French sailors and 1,000 of his own before he could finish his 2nd pitcher. All made possible by a few hours of pushing miniatures to test out a few naval theories.