This squadron was in the Azores by the 17th of January 1651, and, after cruising with fair success between them and the Rock of Lisbon, entered the Mediterranean in March. In addition to Penn's squadron, another was fitted out under command of Captain Edward Hall, for the purpose of convoying the trade to the Mediterranean. Hall's squadron consisted of—

There was thus a double protection. While Hall applied himself to the convoying of merchant ships, Penn was free to pursue Rupert. The Royalists gave no trouble, and the two squadrons of the Parliament had little to do beyond making reprisals on the nations which had incurred the hostility of England by showing favour to Rupert, and by endeavouring to put some check on the excesses of the Algerines. Yet the presence of two forces acting in the Mediterranean at once, so soon after the appearance of Blake, must have given the Southern nations a greatly enhanced opinion of the naval power of England. The officers in command were well aware that they were doing much more than merely chasing away a handful of Royalist cruisers. Their sense of the higher importance of their work is very well expressed in a letter written by Captain Hall from Cadiz, on the eve of entering the Mediterranean.

Although Rupert vanished from the sight of Blake and his successors in the Mediterranean, and indeed did not again come in contact with the naval forces of the Parliament, we cannot ignore the actions of a gentleman who was Lord High Admiral, and who flew the Royal Standard by commission of the rightful king. After the defeat at Carthagena he was now reduced to three vessels, and a large part of his crews was discontented. Only the high courage of the man, and the determination of the exiled Royalists who had accompanied him, sufficed to prevent wholesale desertion, or open resistance to his authority. Partly by good management, but more by force, Rupert kept his command together. With the proceeds of his prizes he purchased a fourth vessel, and started on certainly the most extraordinary cruise ever undertaken by a Lord High Admiral of England. It lasted for two years, and at the end there remained only one of the four ships with which it began. He had entered the Mediterranean with "poverty and despair as his companions, and revenge as his guide." These comrades attended him, and he kept this aim in view to the end. From Toulon he sailed to the coast of Africa, and there began avenging the wrongs of his master and uncle, Charles I., by capturing a Genoese carrack, partly on the pretext that the Republic had given him offence, and partly through the "clamour of the seamen," who, having entered on a voyage which had much the look of piracy, were minded to enjoy the privileges of the position. Then he took a Spanish galleon, making use of the Parliament flag as a device to throw her off her guard. Having now done his very best to arouse the whole naval forces of the Mediterranean against him, Rupert wisely roamed out into the Atlantic. He had a scheme for making a cruise on the coast of Africa, and thence over to Barbadoes, which was known to be still held for the king by Lord Willoughby of Parham. It may be that this scheme was not very definite, and that he in reality drifted about very much at the mercy of accident, and the pressure exercised on him by the hope of booty, or the constant mutinous conduct of his men. He first went to Madeira, where he was civilly received by the Portuguese authorities, who were subject to hostilities both from Spain and the Parliament, and could therefore not put themselves in a worse position by favouring Rupert. From Madeira he went to the Canaries, and then to the Cape de Verd Islands, and then back to the Azores, always capturing what English and Spanish ships came in his way. On the coast of Africa he was actively helped by the Portuguese, and even by the Dutch, who were now themselves on the eve of war with England, and were not sorry to see the Lord High Admiral engaged in destroying the trade and settlements of the king's disloyal subjects. The Hollanders did not foresee that within a few years the knowledge gained in these cruises would be turned against themselves. Among the officers who followed Rupert was the Captain Robert Holmes who became an admiral after the Restoration and led a squadron to the coast of Africa for the purpose of sweeping out the Dutch.

In the September of 1651 Rupert's strength was sorely diminished. His flagship went down in a gale with three hundred and thirty men, although every effort was made to stop the leak, even to the thrusting of a hundred and twenty pieces of raw beef into it, and stancheoning them down. Rupert was saved by the devotion of his followers. Shortly afterwards another of his little squadron ran aground in the Azores and became a total wreck. He endeavoured to replace these losses by arming his prizes, but his resources diminished too fast. His men continued to desert, and he had no means of replacing them. After his disasters in the islands, he returned to the coast of Africa in May '52, and applied himself alternately to plundering the English at sea, and the Moors on shore in the neighbourhood of Cape Blanco. By this time his vessels had become strained, so that well-found merchant ships had less difficulty in escaping them. The Portuguese, too, had made peace with England. His refuges were being shut to him, and he could not sell his prizes. After failing to capture an English vessel, "very snug, with taut masts," which they took for a man-of-war (the fighting ship was already known by her greater smartness), Rupert deserted Africa and the Atlantic islands and betook himself to the Antilles. He had come too late to assist in the defence of Barbadoes against the Parliament, but the Dutch war had now begun. Rupert had not the smallest scruple in assisting the enemies of England against the enemies of the king. He was busy near Nevis and other parts of the Windward Islands. In the course of his cruising he gave his name to Prince Rupert's Bay on the western side of the island of Dominica, very close to the scene of one of the most famous of English naval victories. At last, among the Virgin Islands, he was overtaken by the most destructive of the many storms he had experienced. His brother Maurice went down with all hands, and Rupert himself, being now worn out and overmatched, returned home with his only remaining ship. He reached Nantes early in 1653 in safety. His one surviving vessel was burned by accident, so that nothing was left of the force with which he had originally sailed, except a few of the adventurers.

While the small remnant of the king's naval forces was pursuing a course of adventures which hovered between piracy and privateering, the Council of State was making vigorous use of its navy for the purpose of stamping out what resistance to its authority still lingered on in outlying territories. In 1651 it armed, in addition to the Home Guards and the squadrons of Penn and Hall, a further squadron under the command of Sir George Ayscue. His mission was to reduce the royal garrison at Barbadoes, and to receive the submission of the plantations of North America. Barbadoes had passed into our hands by occupation as far back as the reign of Elizabeth. It had never been held by the Spaniards, who probably neglected it because it lay well out in the Atlantic to the eastward of the Antilles. Although of little direct value to them, its position made it desirable to a Power which wished to be able to attack the Spanish Indies. Being to windward, it supplied an excellent starting-point for a squadron intending to assail the Antilles. It has a good harbour and fertile soil. The early history of our settlement in Barbadoes is peaceful and obscure. The settlers appear to have included an exceptional number of capitalists, and few among them belonged to that class of emigrants who left England for religious reasons during the reign of Charles I. By the middle of the century it is said to have contained fifty thousand inhabitants, over and above the black slaves and the remnant of the native Indian population. In the desperate state to which the king's fortunes were reduced, his desire to retain so valuable a fragment of his dominions was very natural. He could do little to defend it in the way of supplying men or money. It was, however, in his power to appoint a resolute governor; and this he did. The Lord Willoughby of Parham, who had been named Vice-Admiral by Charles at Helvoetsluys in 1648, had been displaced by the mutiny of his men when the squadron returned from its unsuccessful cruise into the Thames, was sent as governor to Barbadoes, and was well received by the planters. So long as they were not called upon to fight or suffer for the royal cause, these persons were perfectly prepared to recognise the king's authority. They had a militia apparently well armed, and forts in the principal settlement at Carlisle Bay, but the reality of strength was not in proportion to the show.

In spite of the ease with which Willoughby established his authority, the Barbadians were not undivided. There was a Parliamentary party among them. Some of the leaders of this section of the inhabitants thought it more prudent to desert the island on the arrival of Lord Willoughby. They had taken refuge in England, and had promised the Parliament support if it could send out a force for the conquest of the island. Several of them accompanied Ayscue. Sir George did not proceed at once to the West Indies, but began his campaign by a cruise on the coasts of Spain and Portugal. It was hoped that before crossing the Atlantic he might do something towards the final suppression of Prince Rupert. But Rupert had by this time given up even the appearance of struggling with the Parliament's navy, and had gone farther to the south. After searching in vain for an enemy who eluded him, Ayscue went on to discharge the second part of his mission. It is possible that he did not wish to reach the West Indies during the hurricane months of July, August, and September. In October that danger is considered to be over. On the 16th of October he appeared off Carlisle Bay, on the western side of Barbadoes. There were several Dutch and some English ships at anchor, and these Ayscue seized, on the ground that they were trading with the enemies of the Parliament. Then he summoned Lord Willoughby to surrender. The Royalist governor made a stout answer, and the planters appeared for a time to be ready to support him. But in truth, as the result showed, they were not prepared to risk much for the cause. Ayscue established a blockade of the island, and put an entire stop to its trade. This threatened the planters with ruin, and a large party among them were soon converted to a conviction of the necessity of bringing Lord Willoughby to reason. A very active leader of this section of the inhabitants was a certain Thomas Modyford, colonel of one of the regiments of colonial militia, a man who had a very strange and varied career to run in the West Indies before he died. He had fought for the king in England, and was a new-comer in Barbadoes, where he had landed only in 1647, but he had brought with him the means of buying a plantation, and now he was not inclined to risk his possessions in the apparently desperate cause of his master's son. He therefore made his peace with Ayscue, and gave the Parliamentary leader assurances of support. Ayscue had but few soldiers with him, and would probably not have risked the landing unless he had been sure of help. In December, two months after his arrival, he received what he had the art to represent as a reinforcement. The West Indian Islands were commonly supplied with food for themselves and their slaves from Virginia. The ships bringing these stores arrived in the month of December. Trading fleets at that time, when the New World swarmed with pirates, preferred to sail together, for the sake of mutual protection. When they reached him, Ayscue made believe that he had received a reinforcement of men, and at once landed at Carlisle Bay. The resistance was so trifling that it is hard to believe the defenders to have been in earnest. Ayscue obtained possession of the forts without the least difficulty. The occupation of the rest of the island would have been beyond his power if the planters had been unanimous in the support of Lord Willoughby. Colonel Modyford had done his work too well, and there were no doubt many other planters as little disposed as himself to lose all for loyalty's sake. They must have known very well that even if they beat off Ayscue, they would only bring a more formidable armament on themselves a little later, while their trade would be ruined in the interval. They soon made Lord Willoughby understand that he must not expect too much from their devotion, and the king's governor surrendered on terms which Ayscue had the generosity, or the good sense, to make liberal. From Barbadoes the fleet sailed to Virginia. There had been some fear that Prince Rupert might reach the Old Dominion, and give trouble; but the prince, as we have seen, was otherwise employed. Virginia, though partly Royalist in sympathies, had already submitted. The plantations farther to the north were thoroughly Puritan; and when Ayscue returned to England, he was able to report that the authority of the Parliament was peacefully acknowledged throughout the whole extent of the American colonies.

Whilst Sir George Ayscue was bringing the colonial settlements to obedience of the Parliament, the work of utterly extirpating the king's authority had been completed at home. Blake had returned from the Mediterranean in February, leaving Penn to take his place. He was well received by the Council of State, and rewarded not only by thanks, but by a grant of money. The Government had immediate need of his services again. Though completely beaten in England, the Royalists were still struggling in Scotland, and they held possession both of the Scilly and the Channel Isles. From these posts they carried on harassing privateering war against commerce. It was not only the damage they did to trade which made these garrisons highly inconvenient to the Government. They had not been very careful to distinguish between English and foreign property in their captures, and had at least done enough to justify the Dutch in threatening to take the law into their own hands. The fear that Tromp, who commanded the naval forces of the States in the Channel, would seize at least upon Scilly was avowed, and was possibly not wholly unfounded. The most effectual way to put a stop to any enterprise of the kind was manifestly to eject the Royalist garrisons from these posts. In April Blake convoyed a military force sent to take possession of the Scilly Isles. The service was rapidly and effectively performed, with the help of Ayscue, who was starting on his voyage to America, and of Colonel Clarke, a military officer despatched by Desborow. Sir John Grenville, the Royalist governor, held out until the 24th of May, and then brought a resistance, doomed to be unavailing, to an end by surrender. The operations against the Channel Isles were suspended for a short time by the march of the Scots army under Charles II. into England. But after the "crowning mercy" of Worcester in September they were resumed. On this occasion Blake had the sole naval command, and his military colleague was Colonel Hayne. Sir George Carteret was helped to prolong his defence by the bad weather, which made it impossible to land the troops for days. But the end was inevitable. With an overwhelming naval force at their command, and the now completely victorious New Model Army to draw on for reinforcements, it was at best a mere question of time when the Parliament would obtain possession of the islands. So soon as he had done enough for honour, Sir George Carteret saved his estate from confiscation by surrendering his forts. In these operations the share of the navy had in a sense been subordinate. It had comparatively little to do with the fighting, and its work had been almost wholly confined to carrying the troops over and landing them. But in another sense these last Royalist garrisons were in reality taken by the navy. If it had not acquired such a commanding superiority of strength at sea as destroyed every Royalist hope of help, Grenville and Carteret might have held out for long. In this, as in the earlier stages of the war with the king, it was the possession of the navy by his enemies which proved ruinous to him.

The revolutionary party had now done its work effectually in the domestic field of battle. Its enemies, as far as the navy was concerned, were in future to be foreigners. There was no doubt, even before the end of 1651, who the main enemy would be. At that time there was but one possible opponent at sea for England, the United States of the Netherlands. War had been preparing between them for some time, and very little was wanted to bring it on. The passing of the Navigation Act in 1651 was of itself an almost sufficient cause for hostilities. The policy which this law was designed to enforce was not in itself new. As far back as the reign of Henry VII., laws had been passed to support English shipping against foreign competition, but they had either been ill enforced, or ill calculated to secure their purpose. The Navigation Act of 1651 was directed against the carrying trade of Holland, with avowedly hostile intentions. It was drafted for the express purpose of ruining the Dutch shipping as far as we were concerned, by forbidding the importation of goods into England, except in ships belonging to the nation which produced them, or in English vessels. This of itself might not have led to open conflict between the two countries, but there were other causes of hostility. The rivalry of the English and Dutch at sea had not always been peaceful. In the early days of the century the East India Companies of the two countries had combined to assert their right of trading with the East in defiance of the Portuguese. When their feeble opponent had been overcome, a task very easily effected, they had fallen out with one another. The chief scene of their conflict had been in the islands of the Indian Ocean, and the victory had remained with the Dutch, who made these the seat of their Eastern Empire. The most notorious incident of the expulsion of the English from the region which the Dutch desired to reserve to themselves, was the massacre of Amboyna, an island near the Moluccas, in 1623. By the terms of a treaty made in 1619 between England and the United Provinces, it had been agreed that the two nations were to live in peace in these regions, and that their respective factories were to share the trade. According to the English account, which is certainly supported by probability, the Dutch vamped up an accusation of treason against the English factors (i.e. commercial agents) at Amboyna. Under the pretence that they had entered into a plot with the Japanese to massacre their Dutch allies, they were suddenly attacked, thrown into prison, and tortured with abominable cruelty. Then, taking advantage of this supposed discovery of a plot, the Dutch made it a pretext to expel the English factories from the whole of the Spice Islands. During thirty years the memory of the massacre of Amboyna had remained fresh with the English. The Governments of James I. and Charles I. had made several attempts to obtain satisfaction by diplomatic means, but the States had either been unwilling or unable to compel the powerful East India Company to replace the English factories.

There were other causes of dispute between the Governments, such as the not unnatural favour shown by the Prince of Orange to the cause of his father-in-law, King Charles. The prince had indeed recently died in the midst of a constitutional conflict with the Republican party. His opponents were now masters in Holland, but even this served rather to promote discord. The Commonwealth took up with a fantastic scheme for a union between the two republics, and when it was coldly received, as might have been expected, was, not very wisely, angry. The murder of an English envoy at the Hague by Royalist refugees served to exasperate existing ill-feeling. Perhaps not the weakest motive with the Council of State was its knowledge that war with Holland would be popular. Revolutionary Governments have at all times the strongest possible motive for directing the energies of a nation into foreign war. Under the influence of these different motives, England undoubtedly forced a war upon the Dutch Republic. Trade rivalry, the memory of old wrongs, the hope of displacing the Dutch from their commercial supremacy, and the natural instinct of all Governments to do what will tend to their own preservation, combined to make conflict inevitable.

The importance of the first Dutch war as an epoch in the history of the English Navy can hardly be exaggerated. Though short, for it lasted barely twenty-two months, it was singularly fierce and full of battles. Yet its interest is not derived mainly from the mere amount of the fighting, but from the character of it. This was the first of our naval wars conducted by steady, continuous, coherent campaigns. Hitherto our operations on the sea had been of the nature of adventures by single ships and small squadrons, with here and there a great expedition sent out to capture some particular port or island. When we now look back on the long and glorious story of England on the sea during the last three centuries, the grandeur of the later period is liable to mislead us in our estimate of the earlier. In 1652 England was far from enjoying that reputation for superiority in naval warfare she earned in later generations. In fact, the majority of operations undertaken by her fleets had been failures. The defeat of the Armada had always, and not unjustly (whatever our national vanity may say to the contrary), been accounted for by causes other than the strength of Elizabeth's navy. Since then, the Cadiz expedition of 1596, in which we had the co-operation of a Dutch squadron, had been our only signal triumph. The voyage to Portugal in 1589, the last voyage of Drake and Hawkins to the West Indies in 1594, the expedition against Algiers in 1620, the expedition to Cadiz in 1625, the attack on the Ile de Rhé in 1627, had all been either barren or disastrous. The valour and the seamanship of the English was not disputed, but there was nothing to lead the Dutch to believe that they would prove a specially formidable enemy on the sea. If the States hung back from war, it was not so much because they had reason to doubt the capacity of their fleets to contend on equal terms with ours, but because they were a commercial power having much to lose and little to gain by hostilities, because their long war with Spain had burdened them with a heavy national debt, and because the obligation to defend a vulnerable land frontier made it impossible for them to dispense with the burden of a large standing army. This war caused a great change in the estimate of our power at sea. It proved that we could show ourselves superior to what was beyond all question the greatest naval power on the Continent, and thereby raised the position of England in the world.

The novelty of the war no less than its importance makes it convenient to take a survey not only of the material condition of our fleet, but of its moral and intellectual capacity for warfare at sea, before beginning an account of the operations. There is nothing to be added to what has been said at the beginning of this chapter as to the organisation of the navy of the Commonwealth. Experience led to some changes during the progress of the war, but at the beginning the fleet was governed and organised as it had been during the Civil War. It has already been pointed out that between 1648 and 1651 the number of ships fit for service had been substantially doubled, and the quality of the recent additions to the list was excellent. With the help of hired or pressed merchant ships, the Council of State was able to meet the Dutch with equal forces. The size of the squadrons maintained during the Civil Wars, with the nature of their recent service in the Mediterranean and America, had given the fleet practice, and the State the command of a body of proved officers.

There is more doubt as to how far the navy was prepared for a great war by the possession of a definite system or order of battle. According to the prevailing opinion, an English fleet was a collection of ships which fought pell-mell, each as it best could, and as the spirit of its captain caused it to be handled. This is a view which I find myself unable to accept. It has, in my opinion, both probability and direct evidence against it. In the first place, it is difficult to conceive that any force consisting of ships ranging in number from forty to nearly a hundred can possibly have been moved about, directed against an enemy, and led to victory, unless it had had some understood formation which the commander could use, and the individual captains were familiar with. A fighting force which goes in no kind of order is a thing one finds it hard to imagine—provided, of course, that it is also supposed to be efficient. The most barbarous tribes of warriors have some method of marshalling a host. The most rudimentary common-sense will teach the most backward of mankind that they cannot fight at all unless they move together on the enemy, help one another, and put each individual of their body in such a position that he can use his weapons. The same experience must have taught the seamen of the middle of the seventeenth century the same lesson. Unless they had been incredibly stupid, they could not possibly think of rushing into battle with an enemy so formidable as the Dutch, without some more or less definite idea how they were to bring their whole power to bear upon him. It is true that they did not write essays on tactics, but this only proves that the time was not given to writing about the operations of war at sea, while the want of minutely precise fighting orders may, in the light of the later history of our navy, be considered as rather a proof of sagacity than of the want of knowledge.

We are not, however, left to draw our deductions as to the existence of a recognised formation of battle in the English Navy from probability only. There is direct evidence that the natural order of a fleet which fights with its broadside, the famous line of battle, was familiar to the generation of Blake. Fourteen years after this war, Penn, in speaking to Pepys, declared that the Dutch always fight in a line, "and we, whenever we beat them." As this was said at the beginning of the second Dutch war, it is impossible to believe that Penn was not thinking of the previous struggle. Then we had been repeatedly successful against the Dutch, and it seems to follow that it had been for the reason given by the veteran admiral, among others. His words in conversation to Pepys are not Penn's only contribution to the evidence of the existence of a line of battle. In a letter describing his share in the battle off the Kentish Knock, he says: "We ran a fair berth against the head of our general to give room for my squadron to be between him and us." It is to be presumed that when the ships forming that squadron filled the place left vacant for them, they were understood to do so in such a way as to be able to use their broadsides. This implies that none of them were to be so placed as to get between a comrade and the Dutch; in other words, they were to be in "line ahead," i.e. one behind the other, the only position in which a number of vessels carrying their guns on their sides could all fire without running the risk of hurting one another. We hear, too, of fleets tacking together, which presupposes that they were so placed as to allow them freedom of movement, and that there was some system by which a general order could be conveyed. But there are two pieces of still stronger evidence which I cannot but think must be held to settle the question. The first is to be found in a letter from Captain Joseph Cubitt of the Tulip, and gives an account of the last battle of the war.

The movements described by Captain Cubitt are not conceivable unless we suppose that the English fleet was in line ahead. When he says, "We went through their whole fleet, leaving part on one side and part on the other of us," and again when he says, "We cut off some of his fleet which could not weather us," he describes the movement which was deliberately executed by Rodney on the 12th April 1783, and was unwittingly performed by all the ships of his fleet, counting from Commodore Affleck's to the rear at another breach in the French line. It could not have been executed except by ships in a line ahead, and we have therefore sufficient reason to believe that this formation was adopted by our fleets in the first Dutch war. The second piece of evidence is to be found in the "Instructions for the Better Ordering of the Fleet in Fighting," issued by Blake, Monk, Disbrowe, and Penn, in March 1655. Here it is distinctly ordered that, when the fleet prepares to engage, the vice and rear admirals are to place themselves respectively to right and left of the commander-in-chief, "giving a competent distance for the admiral's squadron"; that, when in action, every ship is to keep in a line with the chief of its own squadron, or, if he falls out crippled, then with the commander-in-chief; that, if one vessel falls out injured, the others are to "keep in a line" between her and the enemy; while signals are provided by which an admiral can order his van or rear, which are leeward or windward of him, to come into his "wake or graine," that is, into a line behind or ahead of him. It may be allowed that the order of line ahead was not very accurately preserved. It is as near impossible as may be to keep sixty to ninety ships of very different sizes and sailing powers manœuvring for any length of time without allowing them to fall into disorder. But the weakness of the execution does not prove the want of a system. We may therefore consider it as established that, however ill the plan may have been executed, our ancestors in the first Dutch war did endeavour to fight in that formation which experience has shown to be the most effective for a fleet of ships depending on their broadsides for their power of injuring the enemy. That the Admiralty of the time did no more than prescribe a method of engaging in general terms, and then order their captains to do their best, is to their honour. This is what Nelson did at Trafalgar, at a time when nobody supposes that the line was unknown to our seamen. What the reticence of the Admiralty of the Commonwealth proves is, that the formation had not been degraded to the superstition which it became in the last quarter of the century.

The reason which made the line ahead the most effective formation for warships is implied in what has already been said. Their power lay in their broadsides, which could only be used when the vessels were in that order. The ancient galleys relied on their beak, and the later galleys carried a single great gun in the bows, and would therefore naturally be placed with their prow towards the enemy, since it was this that they relied on as their means of offence. When several of them were acting together, they would be placed side by side, as a matter of course, as this arrangement put them all where they would have an opportunity of striking the enemy, and of helping one another. This formation is called the line abreast, and for ships armed on the broadside is manifestly useless. It might be, and was, used when they were moving together to attack the enemy, but, from the moment that they came within striking distance, their natural course was to turn their side to him. In doing so, they would take care to turn in the same direction, since, if they did not, the fleet would be immediately split up into a number of discordant parts going in different directions, and in imminent danger of running into one another. But this movement of turning in one direction from the line abreast would inevitably bring them into a more or less accurately formed line ahead. There remains the alternative that the fleet attacking in line abreast—a course it could only follow from windward—might endeavour to steer through the enemy and engage him on the lee side. This was actually attempted by Lord Howe on the 1st of June 1794, and it has the obvious advantage of putting the attacking force on the enemy's line of retreat, which, in the case of sailing ships, is unavoidably to leeward. But this method of attack could only be employed against an enemy who remained passive, which it does not appear that the Dutch ever did in this war.

With two fleets both moving, it could hardly happen that they could engage except when sailing on the wind, that is, with the wind on one side and not behind them. In that position an admiral had a much greater control over the movements of his squadron. Thus the formation which gradually came to be accepted as normal was the close-hauled line of battle. In order that each vessel, while retaining the power of striking at the enemy, was also to have the necessary freedom of movement, a space had to be left between them in which they could turn when occasion arose, and which would give to each the time to avoid the ship immediately ahead of her, if it, by any chance, became disabled. As it was desirable to employ the greatest number of men in fighting, and as few as might be aloft, while it was obviously convenient to diminish to the utmost the surface presented to an enemy's fire, it was a practice imposed by the conditions of sea battles to go into action with a diminished spread of sail. It was further necessary that every vessel should have the power of increasing her rate of speed. If one vessel was crippled, the next behind her had to push up and take her place, which could only be done where there were some immediate means of increasing the rate of speed. This margin was secured by employing a detachment of men to spill the wind out of one of the sails, so that it did not produce its whole effect in dragging the ship on. Spilling the wind meant the keeping one corner of the sail loose, so that it flapped and did not hold the wind. When the speed of the ship had to be increased, the sail was sheeted home, or, in the old phrase, they "let everything draw." It follows, from what has been said, that a fleet was always compelled to regulate its speed by that of the slowest vessel in the line. The great majority of battles fought by ships under sail were conducted very slowly. It was seldom that the line moved at more than two and a half or three miles an hour.

In saying that the seamen of the middle seventeenth century knew the advantage of forming a line and attacking in that order, I do not mean to assert that they had carried the art of handling a fleet in battle to the perfection it attained in later times, but only that they were not in the habit of endeavouring to fight in a mere swarm. Their ignorance of the refinements of the conduct of a fleet was perhaps in their favour. It is the defect of every formation for war, whether by land or sea, that it is capable of becoming, in the belief of dull and pedantic men, an end in itself. This did happen with the close-hauled line of battle, within about forty years of the first Dutch war. Every order is valuable only in so far as it enables a fighting force to bring its whole strength to bear. When it has done that, it has served its purpose. But it may happen that a generation of unintelligent leaders will get into the habit of endeavouring to avoid whatever disturbs the mere arrangement of their forces, and will aim at preserving that, even when, by so doing, they have to let slip the opportunity of damaging the enemy. In the first Dutch war this pedantry had not yet begun to be visible among the admirals on either side.

That the modern navy was beginning in this war is further to be seen in the fact that we now first meet with a general body of orders established for the maintenance of discipline by the authority of the State. Hitherto each admiral had drawn up his own code, and from among them there had been formed what may, without a fantastic abuse of words, be called a body of common law known as the Customs of the Sea. The brief pamphlet containing the regulations of the Council of State is the germ of the weighty volume, hardly smaller than a family Bible, which contains the Queen's Regulations and Admiralty Instructions. There will be occasion to return to it when we reach the great organising period of Charles II.'s reign. It is enough to note at present that, while maintaining the old authority of the admirals and captains, it gave the seamen a security against the arbitrary will of their superiors by providing that they were not to be punished until after regular trial. One change in the internal economy of the ship was promoted by this war. Hitherto it had been the custom to carry lieutenants in ships of the third rate and upwards, and in them only one. Under the strain of a great and serious war, it was found that this did not afford a sufficient supply of the higher rank of officers, and the number of lieutenants was increased. Admiral Penn, in a letter to Cromwell dated early in the war, argued they should be employed in all vessels.

The enemy with whom we were about to engage was strong enough to call for the exercise of the whole power of England. He was not, however, of such resources but that it was within our means to overcome him by sufficient exertions. In number of seamen and ships the United Provinces excelled us largely, but not in the number of men available for war, or of ships equal to the strain of battle. England was still mainly an agricultural and pastoral country. She could, if needful, take nearly all her seamen for her fleet, and suspend her trade for a time. The Dutch Republics could not do so without ruin. Three hundred and sixty thousand people depended on the herring fishery for their subsistence. Amsterdam, according to the old proverb, was built upon herrings. Unless this trade could be pursued, ruin stared the State of Holland in the face. The over-sea commerce and the carrying trade were no less vital. The Dutch were the carriers by sea, and the importers of tropical produce, for all Europe. If the fishery and the over-sea trade were even seriously interrupted, the loss to Holland was colossal; therefore even an inability to drive the English fleets off the sea, though it might stop short of complete defeat for themselves, would entail such loss on the States that they would be forced to make peace.

In view of the strenuous exertions of both Charles I. and the Long Parliament to strengthen the English Navy, the Dutch Government ought certainly to have taken proportionate measures to increase their own. But the Dutch naval strength had been rather neglected. This error can be accounted for by more causes than one. The Republics had hitherto had to contend with Spain alone at sea, and she had long ceased to be a formidable enemy. In the meantime they had been called upon to maintain a constant land warfare, first against Spain alone, and then in the later stages of the European conflict called the Thirty Years' War. They had to keep on foot an army of 57,000 men, which was raised by voluntary enlistment and largely recruited abroad. It was therefore very costly, and to it the navy had been sacrificed. The princes of the House of Orange, though great soldiers and great statesmen, had not been uninfluenced by professional feeling. They had consequently devoted their attention mainly to the army by which they had won their own glory. Between economy and the want of statesmanlike military direction, the naval force had been treated in a somewhat peddling fashion. Its ships were slighter and smaller than the fine vessels constructed by the Petts. As they were also made flat-bottomed, in order to navigate the shallows of the Dutch coast, they were less weatherly than the English, and therefore liable to be out-manœuvred and out-sailed in the open sea.

The nature of the government of the United Netherlands was a cause of weakness to their fleet and of strength to us. Although we habitually speak of the Dutch Republic, there were, in fact, seven sovereign republics, each independent within its own borders, joined together by necessity, and common interests, in a very loose confederation. The authority of the Stadtholders of the House of Nassau, Princes of Orange, had given unity of direction to the armed forces of the Confederacy. They were Captains and Admirals General, and so Commanders-in-Chief by sea and land. They appointed to the higher posts, and could secure the steady combined co-operation of all the forces. But in 1652 there was no Stadtholder. William II., the successor of Frederick Henry, and son-in-law of Charles I., had died suddenly in the midst of a conflict with the State of Holland, and the reigning Prince of Orange was his posthumous son, our own King William, after the Revolution of 1688. William II. had been aiming at welding the whole seven provinces into one strongly organised State, under the hereditary rule of his own house. He had made an unsuccessful attempt to seize Amsterdam and coerce the State of Holland. In the course of this adventure he had imprisoned a number of the magistrates in his castle of Loevenstein—from which the Republican party took their name. It is possible he might have succeeded if he had lived; and in that case we know, and the Long Parliament knew, that he had entered into an alliance with the King of France, for the double purpose of dividing the Spanish Netherlands between them, and upsetting the Republic in England. But he died before doing more than arouse the Republican Party in his own country, and convince those who now ruled England that their own safety was bound up with the destruction of the House of Orange Nassau.

In the absence of an Admiral-General, the control of the naval forces of the Low Countries was divided between five Boards of Admiralty,—that of the Maas, which sat at Rotterdam, that of Amsterdam, that of North Holland, and the Boards of Zeeland and Friesland. The States General, the only approach to a common government of the Confederacy, was a body in which each republic had one vote, though represented by a number of deputies. It was of more dignity than real strength, and exercised only the powers delegated to it by the different members of the Union. At a later period, the State of Holland, the most wealthy of the seven republics, was enabled to gain a supremacy which to some extent replaced the authority of the Stadtholder. It owed its success mainly to the statesmanship of the Grand Pensionary, John de Witt. But in the first Dutch war, De Witt was at the very beginning of his career, and the republics suffered from all the weaknesses of an ill-knit and jarring Confederacy. Even if all the inhabitants of the seven provinces had been united in sentiment, the defects in the construction of their government would have put them at a disadvantage in a conflict with England. But it is notorious that this was far from being the case. The victory of the Republicans had been the victory of the moneyed classes in the towns, of a very able, very patriotic, but also very narrow and jealous oligarchy. The majority of the nobles and the mass of the poorer classes were devoted in sentiment to the House of Orange Nassau, and would, if they had had their way, have seen the Stadtholdership conferred at once on the young prince, with a regent drawn from his own family to administer for him until he came of age. Many of the army and navy officers had the same wish, so that the States General were in constant fear of domestic sedition, while the party feelings of the officers of the fleet are believed to have interfered with the discharge of their duty.

The condition of England was very different. Those who ruled might be a revolutionary party, governing by force, but they claimed to have inherited all the rights of the Crown, and it is beyond doubt they had effective possession of them. Thus, while on the side of Holland there was continual need for the co-operation of independent if not always mutually hostile bodies, there was on the side of England one central authority acting according to its own motives, and rendering an account of its deeds to nobody. This Government, too, was composed of men steeled against all risks by years of conflict in which their heads had been at stake, and trained by long practice to the rapid transaction of public affairs. The predominance of the commercial element in Holland prevented the development of a high military spirit among its seamen. The Dutch were skilful mariners, and valiant in a stolid, enduring way, but their officers in many cases showed a very unofficerlike reluctance to face risks. In our fleet something of the same kind was found among the merchant captains left in command of the hired or pressed ships, and no doubt the war, which tried men as by fire, revealed the weakness of individuals. Yet the evil with us was less, and the power to remedy it was far greater.

Not the least cause of the superior strength of England is to be found in her geographical position. Her coasts stretched opposite those of Holland, while she herself was open to the west. Thus the Dutch trade, the very life-blood of the country, was compelled to flow either along the Channel, where it was subject to attack at every moment, or by the longer and stormier route round the north of Scotland, where also it was not safe, since the route ended in the North Sea opposite the naval station of Harwich.

On a general comparison, then, of the relative strength of the two countries, it will be seen that the advantage was on the side of England. There were numbers against her, and a somewhat greater experience. But she had unity of authority, better instruments of war, a more martial spirit, a stronger geographical position, and she was much less vulnerable. If, then, ability and energy were not wanted in the direction of her fleet, the probability was that she would win.

CHAPTER VII
THE FIRST DUTCH WAR