When in the beginning of 1652 war was seen to be inevitable, England had in hand a considerable force of ships already commissioned, manned by crews which had been long together. Ayscue had just returned from America, and Penn from the Mediterranean, where his place had been taken by Captain Badiley. The summer guard was being prepared in great strength under the sole command of Blake. Popham died about this time, and Deane was with the troops in Scotland. In March the Council of State was busy commissioning ships as fast as it could. It forbade the pressing of men from outward-bound merchant vessels, on the ground that this was a serious hindrance to trade, but it used every other available means to increase its naval force. The higher commands were filled by giving the place of Vice-Admiral to William Penn, and of Rear-Admiral to Nicholas Bourne, a soldier who was mainly employed during the course of the war as commissioner of the dockyard at Harwich. The States General made strenuous efforts to preserve peace, but the Council of State insisted on such terms as could not be accepted without the surrender of the national existence of the republics. The Grand Pensionary, Pauw de Heemstede, was sent over to reinforce the ambassadors, but, while they were negotiating, exertions were made to collect a competent naval force at sea. The need for one was great. The Dutch convoys were coming up the Channel, and, in the humour England was in, there was no small probability that they would be seized before they reached home. To afford them protection, Tromp was sent into the Straits of Dover with a fleet of some forty sail. He appeared there about the middle of May, and found Bourne at Dover with eight ships. Blake was at Rye with fifteen or sixteen. A conflict had already taken place in the Channel, arising out of the historic quarrel as to the right to the salute. On the 12th of May, Captain Young, on his way westward to take command of the west guard, met a dozen sail coming from the southward near the Start. He took them at first for the fleet of Sir George Ayscue. They turned out to be a convoy of Dutch ships from Genoa and Leghorn, accompanied by three men-of-war. Young at once insisted upon the salute. It was yielded by one of the Dutchmen, but resisted by the second, a 42-gun ship; and a hot conflict followed, all six vessels taking active part. Young reported that he finally compelled the recalcitrant Dutchman to strike, but that, when he also wanted to carry him prisoner to England, the Hollanders declared that they preferred fighting again. Upon this Young sheered off, by the advice of his fellow-captains, Reynolds and Chapman. The action would appear to have been somewhat indecisive, but Captain Young was well pleased with his share. "For my own part," he wrote, "I bless God for it, I am very well. I do believe I gave him his belly full of it; for he sent me word he had orders from the States that if he struck he should lose his head; but at length he did strike, which makes me conceive he had enough of it." The States were indeed well disposed to resist the claim to the salute, and, at the pitch things had got to, may well have thought that there was little use in rendering a mark of deference which seemed to do them no good.

While the convoy attacked by Captain Young was making its way up Channel, Tromp came into Dover Road, and there exchanged civilities with Admiral Bourne. The English were in a suspicious frame of mind, and disposed to see offence in all Tromp's acts. They may perhaps have remembered his high-handed attack on Oquendo at that very place fourteen years earlier. In any case, they knew that he was a loyal member of the Orange Party, that he had been knighted by Charles I., and that he was no friend to the English nation. Bourne sent word to Blake at Rye, and the English admiral at once got under way and came round to Dover. On the morning of the 19th he came in sight of Tromp at anchor in and near Dover Road. When Blake was within three leagues of him, Tromp weighed, and stood to the eastward with a north-easterly wind. The English did not come to an anchor, but continued lying to, watching Tromp, who held his course for some two hours. Then a small vessel was seen to speak to the Dutch admiral. Tromp immediately altered his course and bore down on Blake, he himself leading in his flagship, the Brederode. Blake also was at the head of his own ships. In this position he watched the Dutch admiral, whose action certainly indicated no unwillingness to provoke a collision. The right to the salute served to bring matters to an issue. When Tromp was within musket-shot, Blake gave orders to fire at his flag. At the third shot the Dutchman answered by a broadside, which may be considered as the effectual opening of perhaps the fiercest, though one of the shortest, of naval wars.

The place of this collision was somewhere between the South Sand Head, the most southerly point of the Goodwin Sands, and Cape Gris Nez on the coast of France. The time was the afternoon, and the action lasted until dark. Blake was lying to, with the heads of his ships probably pointing to the English shore. He in his flagship, the James, was at the head of his line. Tromp in the Brederode bore down with his squadron in line behind him. In this war it is not uncommon to find admirals leading their line, as Nelson and Collingwood did at Trafalgar, instead of placing themselves in the midst, as was the custom throughout the more pedantic time of the eighteenth century. This is one of the resemblances between the earlier and the later periods in the history of the English Navy, which bind them together in distinction to the more dull and more formal age between. If Tromp had had to deal with Blake only, there could have been but one end to the conflict. The Dutch admiral directed his attack on the English flagship. As Blake was at the windward end of his line, this would have enabled the Dutchman to concentrate an overwhelming force on the James and the ships immediately about her, before the more leewardly of the English ships could come to their assistance. But there was a third combatant to be considered. Bourne had got under way from the Downs when he saw the threatening manœuvres of Tromp, and his position enabled him to attack the rear and northerly end of the Dutch line. Thus the combatants were curiously mingled. While Tromp with a superior force was attacking Blake, who was to leeward, he was himself attacked from windward by Bourne. We know little of the details of the battle, or of the conduct of individual ships. The James, attacked by the Brederode and other Dutch warships, was very severely handled. "All our rigging and sails," as Blake reported in his despatch, "were extremely shattered, our mizenmast shot off." The loss in men was severe: six killed, "and nine or ten desperately wounded, and twenty-five more not without danger; amongst them our master and one of his mates and other officers," is the number reported by Blake. A century later, a line-of-battle ship attacked at such disadvantage by enemies of equal quality would have been cut to pieces in half an hour. The wild gunnery of the time accounts for Blake's escape from utter destruction. The struggling mass of ships wrestled in the Straits until dark, cannonading one another to the best of their ability. When night came, they separated. Blake, with the advice of the captains, came to an anchor three or four leagues off Dungeness. Tromp stood over to the coast of France. One Dutch vessel remained in the hands of the English, so shattered that her captor, Lawson, did not think her worth keeping, but took her crew out, and forsook her.

The news of this encounter provoked an outbreak of popular feeling in London. The Council of State thought it necessary to send a body of troops to defend the house of the Dutch ambassador at Chelsea. Negotiations did not wholly cease, but they had become an idle form. The English Government insisted upon an apology, compensation, and the punishment of Tromp. This demand was naturally refused by the States General, and at last the mere appearance of negotiation was given up. Both sides prepared to exert their whole strength in an armed struggle. The English Government took vigorous measures to deal with the inevitable, orders were sent to the vice-admirals of the coast counties (the justices of the peace for maritime affairs), ordering them to hasten on the press of sailors. It was voted that forty sail of ships should be commissioned in addition to those already in the service of the Commonwealth. Letters were sent to Deane, who commanded the troops in Scotland, ordering him to make haste with the reduction of Dunottar Castle, where a forlorn Royalist garrison was still holding out, to take measures for the protection of the fisheries, and to make himself acquainted with the military value of the harbours of Orkney and Shetland. At the same time, the Council of State was concerned with the question of discipline. Two of the captains engaged on the 19th of May, Thoroughgood and Gibbs, were charged with not having behaved themselves well, and were called upon to answer for their "miscarriage." Here is the first of various mentions of the measure which had to be taken to establish a proper military spirit among the captains of the Commonwealth's fleet. Merchant captains entrusted with the command of hired or pressed ships were not as a class trustworthy, for reasons very excellently stated by Penn in a letter to Cromwell, written within a fortnight after the engagement in the Straits.

The men whose conduct Penn discusses were not necessarily cowards, they were only not fighters by profession. Shocking as it may seem in view of the traditional reputation of the two heroes about to be named, I doubt whether every word of this paragraph might not have been made to apply to Sir John Hawkins and Sir Francis Drake, neither of whom can be shown to have ever fought "longer than he saw occasion"; that is to say, longer than he had before him a clear prospect of immediate pecuniary results. But though their standard of conduct may have done very well for a time of plundering expeditions and private adventure, it was absolutely unfitted for a great war, which demands that all parts of the forces engaged shall always be ready to obey orders, and to do their best, or be punishable for failure. A more agreeable duty to the Council of State was to give their thanks to the mayor, jurats, and seamen of Dover who had volunteered to reinforce Blake's fleet during the late engagement with Tromp. They were duly thanked and encouraged to persevere by a promise of an advance of part of the £4000 required to build their new pier.

Neither England nor Holland were sufficiently ready for a war on a great scale to be able to dispense with time for preparation. The month of June was passed by both in equipping fleets. Ayscue had reached Plymouth at the end of May. He arrived, bringing with him numbers of Dutch prizes taken on the way, for the making of reprisals had been begun on our side long before the pretence of a treaty of peace had been given up. He was ordered to make ready at once to reinforce Blake, if the condition of his ships after their long cruise made it possible for him to keep the sea. Ayscue came on from Plymouth after a short stay. On his way he had a sharp brush with a Dutch convoy, which beat him off, and he reached the Downs about the middle of June with eleven men-of-war. Blake had been in the meantime largely reinforced. His fleet at this time was estimated at forty-seven ships belonging to the State and twenty-six merchant ships, but it does not follow that he had this number actually with him. Indeed, with the still unsettled organisation of the time, when fleets were suddenly made up by additions from the outside, it was not easy for the State itself to discover how many vessels were ready, and there were apt to be curious discrepancies between the numbers returned by an admiral and by other officers reporting directly to the Government. By the end of June, or the first days of July, a sufficient force had been collected to make it possible to despatch Blake to the northward with "a gallant fleet" of sixty sail, while Ayscue was left in the Downs with fifteen or sixteen. The second-named squadron included the vessels Ayscue had brought back from the West Indies, with a few additions.

On the side of the enemy there had been no slackness. The States General, or, to speak with greater exactness, the five Admiralty Boards, exerted themselves to make up for the neglect of recent years by arming the greatest possible number of vessels. By the beginning of July a fleet of a hundred and two warships and ten fireships was ready to sail from the Texel under the command of Tromp. Behind him another fleet was in preparation, to be put under De Ruyter for separate service. The object of the Dutch was to secure the safe issue of the outward-bound convoys from the Narrow Seas, and to secure the home-coming of the merchant fleets. It was also incumbent upon them to afford protection to the great herring fleet which fished in the North Sea. All these ends would have been effected if Tromp had been ready in time to catch Blake in the Downs, and had then been strong enough to make a victorious attack upon him. With the main English fleet well beaten, the Dutch convoys could have gone out or come in, and their herring busses might have fished undisturbed. But Tromp was not ready in time, and when he came out he found his course by no means very clear before him. As he left the Texel, he was informed by the Grand Pensionary, Pauw de Heemstede, who had just returned from England, that Ayscue was in the Downs with only sixteen ships. Whether Tromp knew that Blake had sailed for the north does not appear. If he did, he may still have thought that as he was by no means certain of meeting with the Parliamentary admiral, and that as he could not calculate on destroying his fleet, it would be better policy to fall upon the enemy whose weakness was known, and who was within striking distance. Very shortly after Blake had sailed, a portion of Tromp's force appeared at the back of the Goodwins. Ayscue was in manifest peril, but for this time it passed off. The Dutch officers did not feel confident enough to attack him where he had the support of the batteries of Dover. They retired for a few days, and then the whole fleet of Tromp made its appearance. That there must have been want of spirit on part of the Dutch was manifest, for in the interval Ayscue was allowed to sally and capture a merchant convoy. When the whole force of Tromp appeared off Dover, the peril in which Ayscue's ships stood was great. The Council of State sent hurriedly to Blake to inform him of the danger, leaving it, however, at his discretion to return or not, as he thought fit. Blake had passed Dunbar before he could be informed of Tromp's movement, and does not appear to have made great haste to return. On his way up and down he executed the duty for which he had been sent to the north. He fell upon the Dutch herring fleets, overpowering the squadron of fifteen frigates which was giving it protection against pirates, and seized the busses. The Dutch fishermen were not treated with what was considered inhumanity in the wars of that time. They were allowed to return to Holland after paying the tax of the tenth herring which England claimed to exact for permitting foreigners to fish within ten leagues, that is, thirty miles, of her coast. But the herring fishery was ruined for the year, and very serious injury inflicted on Holland. It can hardly be disputed that, though he may have been right purely from a military point of view, Tromp committed a mistake in directing his attack against Ayscue. Had he followed Blake, he would in all probability have saved the herring fleet; and even if a few merchant convoys had been sacrificed, this was a loss Holland could have better spared than that which she was actually compelled to undergo.

While Blake was ruining the Dutch herring fishery for that year, Tromp did not even succeed in destroying the squadron of Ayscue. Light and baffling winds made it impossible for him to attack, and, after they had paralysed him for a time, a change of weather occurred which was still more to his disadvantage. He was blown off the coast by storms. The stroke he had hoped to deliver in the Downs having missed of its aim, Tromp sailed to the north, where Holland had also commercial interests to protect. The Baltic trade was of immense interest to her, and at that time some of her Indiamen were expected to be on their way back by the northern route. The Dutch admiral did not meet Blake, either on his way up or while in high latitudes. He collected his convoys, and turned homewards. But his fortune was destined to be bad throughout the campaign. He was overtaken in the North Sea by violent storms, and his convoy was scattered. The Dutch reached home in detachments, and several of their stragglers fell into the hands of English cruisers. The outcry against Tromp was loud. Popular judgment held him responsible for the loss of the herring fishery. The veteran admiral can hardly have been thoroughly satisfied with himself, for, though fortune had been against him, it cannot be denied that it had been helped by his own management. He had sacrificed the greater to the less, the more pressing to the more remote, and therefore ill-luck had smitten him, and through him his country, with the full force of its venom. He resigned his command as Lieutenant-Admiral of Holland, and was succeeded by two seamen of less reputation. One of these was Cornelius Witte de With, whom we, confounding his name with that of the famous Grand Pensionary, commonly called De Witt. He was a rough, stout-hearted, outspoken man, who, after bearing his part with honour during this war, died in battle with the Swedes. The other was Michael Adrianzoon de Ruyter (i.e. the trooper, a nickname taken as a name), a small, blue-eyed, pious, and gentle man, who for the next twenty years was to fight with increasing glory for the protection of Holland.

Immediately, or very shortly after, Tromp had sailed for the north, Sir George Ayscue was despatched down Channel on a double mission. He had in the first place to protect our own trade against the Dutch attacks, and in the second to fall upon the convoys of the enemy. His fleet was reinforced to forty vessels and upwards. While he was on his way to the west, Michael de Ruyter had sailed from Holland on a similar mission. He had with him a great convoy which was to be seen safe beyond the Land's End. And then he was to wait for the home-coming ships, and bring them back. As by that time the bulk of the English force might be concentrated in the English Channel, he was probably assured that reinforcements from the main fleet at home would be sent to see him safely back. On the 16th of August a collision took place off Plymouth between Ayscue and De Ruyter. The Dutch were seen out at sea, and to windward. Ayscue stood out to the attack, and came into action with De Ruyter in the afternoon. The Dutch admiral, who was a man of good judgment, and therefore understood the advantages of attacking, discharged the duties of the commander of a convoy admirably well. Having the advantage of the wind, he bore down at once to attack Ayscue, leaving his convoy to make its way onward unmolested. He may have been the more readily induced to take the bold course by seeing that Ayscue's ships were not well in hand. The English admiral had only part of his vessels immediately with him, the others being some distance astern nearer the shore. With the usual boldness of the Commonwealth's admirals, and in reliance, as we may suppose, on the greater average solidity of the English ships, Ayscue had no hesitation in meeting attack halfway. The movements of the fight are vaguely reported. It is, however, said that Ayscue broke through De Ruyter's line and gained the weather-gage with part of his fleet. If this is so, we may conclude that the two fleets met on opposite tacks, that the Dutch weathered the head of the English line, that Ayscue himself was leading, that he held his wind, and made, or found, an opening, through which he passed to windward. When this was done, he was not strong enough to push the battle with any prospect of advantage, as a large part of his squadron was unable to work up to his support. If this was the case, he was cut off, and in danger of being overpowered, but the strength of the English ships again stood them in good stead, and moreover the night came on. De Ruyter may not have thought it wise to do more than was sufficient to cripple the English admiral, so as to debar him from pursuing the convoy. If this was his purpose, he succeeded. The vessels which had followed Ayscue in his spirited movement were badly cut up in their rigging. When daylight came, the Dutch admiral had regained the weather-gage. Ayscue remained in expectation of another attack, but none was made. De Ruyter contented himself with carrying off his convoy. The conduct of Ayscue had not been on a level with his courage, and the Council of State was apparently persuaded that he was unequal to the command of a great fleet. They removed him shortly afterwards from active service, though they softened the severity of this measure by a grant of handsome pensions.

It was perhaps some suspicion of the insufficiency of their commanding officer in the west which induced the Council of State first to call upon Blake to reinforce him, and then to send their admiral and general into the Channel himself. The most effectual method of reducing Holland would have been to establish Blake on the Dutch coast with a force capable of maintaining a blockade. But the Council of State either did not understand this, or did not think their fleet powerful enough. They preferred to collect a strong force in the Channel, for the purpose of protecting their own commerce and strangling that of the Dutch. In the middle of September Blake was in the Channel, making his way westward with the main fleet. When his van, under the command of Vice-Admiral Penn, was as far westward as Bolt Head, stormy weather from the west and south-west made it seem advisable to Blake to bear up for Torbay with the bulk of his fleet. Penn, however, remained out with a part of the ships. On the afternoon of the 15th he caught sight of two Dutch vessels to windward, which were seen to be making signals. The look-out men at the topmasthead saw behind the two Dutchmen, visible from the deck, a large fleet of ships still farther to windward. Penn, on his own showing, was prepared to engage in spite of the enemy's obvious superiority of numbers. He had the approval of Bourne, the rear-admiral, who advised that all the captains within call should be summoned to a council, in order that they might know that the enemy was at hand. The code of signals was in its infancy, or else Penn could have given his captains that information more rapidly than by the clumsy device of a council in his flagship. Penn was unwilling to act as Bourne wished, "lest any dirty mouth should say I called for counsel whether I should fight or no." After a decent reluctance, the council flag was hung out on the mizen shrouds, and the captains were duly summoned to learn the vice-admiral's intention of giving battle. He had in sight eighteen or twenty sail, with the merchantmen and fireships. By two in the afternoon the captains had ended their council, and were gone back, each man to his own ship. They lay to with their head to the offing, waiting for the Dutchmen to come down, for they could not work up to the enemy, and, if they had stood across the Channel for the purpose of tacking in his direction, they might have seemed to be opening a way for him to pass. The enemy was estimated at thirty-five or forty ships, but he made no attack. He came down to within three or four miles, and then hauled his wind and stood out across Channel. Penn stood after him till he was detained by an accident to Bourne's ship. In the meantime it had become stormy, with rain and mist, and the wind at S.W. by S. Towards midnight it cleared up, a stiff gale from the west blew off the mist, but it was dark and the moon did not rise until after midnight. So Penn alternately lay to and stood off in the darkness. About half an hour after midnight, the flash of gun-fire was seen far off on the weather quarter. Penn immediately made signals by firing guns and showing lights, summoning his squadron to follow him in the direction of the fire. The fire ended within a quarter of an hour, and all was again in silence and darkness to windward. Next morning one of Penn's look-out frigates, the Assurance, Captain Sanders, bore under his stern, and let him know what had happened. The firing had been between Captain Sanders and a "lusty ship" which he saw bearing eastward somewhat to the north of him. Sanders "fired two guns to make her stay, but they would not; upon which Sanders hove out his topsail, and presently came up with him; asked him whence his ship? he answered, of Flushing. Sanders bid him amain (shorten sail) for the Commonwealth of England, who answered very uncivilly; upon which they began to fire on each other, and continued until Sanders had lost sight of all our lights, being about an hour, so left the Fleming, who all the time of the fight steered somewhat a southerly course; and about the time Sanders left him he saw to the southward of them several lights, and he was certain of one whereof had a light in his maintop; all which he clearly perceived to steer away to the eastward, and was confident it was the Hollands fleet, who made use of the darkness of the first part of the night to pass by us." Penn thought this "low and poor-spirited" in the bitterness of his disappointment. The truth was, that the English had been completely out-manœuvred. That light in the maintop was De Ruyter's. While Penn was lying to, waiting to be attacked, and Blake was at Torbay, he had taken a sweep out to the southward and carried his convoy up Channel before the stiff westerly gale.

Between the date when he returned to face Tromp and that on which he sailed westward to replace Ayscue, Blake had been called upon to dispose of a little war with France. The Commonwealth was not exactly in a state of open hostility with the French king, but it had grounds of complaint against his officers. They had helped Rupert, and, taking advantage of the supposed weakness of the revolutionary Government in England, they had plundered the ships of the Smyrna Company. On the other hand, Spain had on the whole been friendly. As it happened in the early days of September that the Spanish governor of the Low Countries was endeavouring to regain possession of the towns of Dunkirk and Mardyke, then held by French garrisons, and as a French naval force, commanded by the Duc de Vendôme, was on its way to relieve the French soldiers, the Commonwealth saw an opportunity of delivering a blow at those who had attempted to harass England. Blake fell upon the Duc de Vendôme, took seven of his vessels, and scattered the others. The French Government complained, and the Council of State ordered an inquiry. But it gave no satisfaction, and for the present the incident passed over among the many other violent and irregular transactions of the time. The besieged towns surrendered to the Spaniards, and remained in their hands until, by a strange change of fortune, they passed into those of the Protector Cromwell.

A day or two after he had been disappointed of an encounter with De Ruyter, Vice-Admiral Penn rejoined Blake outside of Torbay. The reunited English ships followed the Dutch up the Channel, but failed to overtake them. De Ruyter effected his junction with Cornelius de With, and together they saw the convoys safe back into port; then, having provided for the trade, they returned to the coast of England to menace the English fleet.

On the 27th of September, Blake, who was at anchor in the Downs, was informed that the Dutch had made their appearance to the northward. He at once put to sea. On the following day the English fleet was very scattered. The van, under the command of Penn, and a part of the centre, including Blake's flagship, were together, stretching across the mouth of the estuary of the Thames. Part of the centre and the rear had not yet succeeded in getting clear out of the Downs. The wind was W. by N. While the English fleet was in this scattered condition, the look-out ships of Penn's squadron found the Dutch to the eastward, and leeward of the Kentish Knock, the farthest out of the shallows on the coast of Essex and Suffolk. The English ships had worked to windward, and had the weather-gage—that is to say, the power of bearing right down on the enemy with the wind behind them. Penn, as ready, if we are to believe his own report, to engage a superior enemy as he had been a month before near Bolt Head, asked Blake's leave to attack. He was told to wait until the rest of the fleet came up, and therefore stretched ahead of his commander-in-chief, leaving a sufficient space for his division to fall into line between him and Blake. In the course of stretching out, he came too near the Kentish Knock, on which his own flagship and two others touched. He found it necessary to tack, and as he must have been standing to the N. before, this would bring him round so that he headed south. In the meantime Blake had been joined by the remaining ships of the centre and rear, and held on his course to the north, passing well clear of the Knock to leeward. The Dutch had been lying to in a line, stretched from N. to S. As Blake stood on to the north, they filled, and passed on his lee side, heading to the south. While the two lines were passing one another and cannonading as they went past, the van, under the command of Penn, was heading more or less in the same direction as the Dutch, but on the other side of Blake's ships. Thus, when the Dutch cleared the centre and rear of the English fleet, the van, which had been moving in the same direction, fell, in Penn's words, "pat to receive them," and stayed by them till night. We must suppose that the centre and rear of the English fleet either tacked or wore together and fell into line behind Penn.

The action was far from decisive. On the English side the leaders did nothing to lose the supposed advantage of the weather-gage, by endeavouring to break through the Dutch line, and so put themselves between the enemy and his refuge in Holland. They were content to remain to windward, cannonading, and perhaps attempting to make use of their fireships. On the other hand, the Dutch fighting was not worthy of its reputation. Their fleet was, if anything, rather superior in number to the English. But they were divided by violent party and professional jealousies. The friends of Tromp were hostile to his successors, Cornelius de With and Michael de Ruyter. It is said that the crew of the Brederode refused to allow De With to hoist his flag in her. Some of the captains, who were probably merchant skippers taken into the war fleet, according to the custom which prevailed also among ourselves, showed downright cowardice, and Cornelius de With was provoked into saying that some of them would find there was wood enough in Holland to make a gallows. It is clear that only the late hour at which the action began, and the approach of darkness, saved the Dutch fleet from a serious disaster. If the English leaders had steered through the Dutch line from windward to leeward, and had put themselves on the enemy's line of retreat, a long list of prizes would have been brought into English ports. But though our admirals in this war were always ready to break the line from leeward to windward, they seem to have avoided the other and much more effective movement. When night fell, the Dutch were allowed to retreat with comparatively trifling loss. We asserted, indeed, that several of them had been sunk, but no reliance is to be placed on statements of that kind. Nothing is more common than to find men asserting that they had sunk an enemy, when in fact they had only lost sight of him in the smoke. Next morning the Dutch were in sight to the eastward, and, the wind having shifted in the night, they had now the weather-gage. Blake endeavoured to renew the action, but Cornelius de With and De Ruyter, having no confidence in their fleet, retreated to their own ports. The English followed till they had sight of the Dutch coast, and then, finding that the enemy was beyond their reach, returned to the Downs.

Our easy victory proved somewhat misleading. Thinking that the enemy was fairly beaten, the English Government relaxed its precautions. A considerable part of the fleet was despatched, under the command of Penn, to convoy the colliers who carried London's supply of fuel from the northern ports. During the whole of October and the greater part of November all seemed quiet, and Blake lay in the Downs with no more than forty ships. But the Dutch were preparing for a vigorous counter-stroke. Finding that Martin Tromp was the only man who could be trusted to make their fleet do its duty, the States General decided to restore him to the command. At the same time, great efforts were made to collect a powerful force. There was, indeed, need for exertion. The outward-bound convoys had to be seen clear of the Channel, and, in order that this could be done, it was necessary to collect a force capable of dealing with the main English fleet. As November drew to its close, this had been achieved. On the 29th of the month, Tromp made his appearance at "the back of the Goodwins," that is to say, between the Sands and the coast of France, with eighty warships, and behind him a convoy of merchant vessels. With a reduced force under his orders, Blake was really incapable of preventing his enemy from carrying his convoy through the Straits, but, with the high spirit which the Commonwealth's commanders seldom failed to display, he made a resolute effort to do the impossible. He weighed anchor and stood out. The wind at first was at S.W., which gave the weather-gage to Blake, while making it impossible for Tromp to take his great swarm of men-of-war and merchant ships round the South Foreland. Then it chopped suddenly and violently round to the N.W., and both fleets anchored before night—Blake in Dover Roads, and Tromp some three leagues farther out. Next morning the wind was less violent, though still from the same point. Both fleets weighed anchor. Tromp steered to carry his convoy into the Channel, keeping his warships carefully between the merchant ships and the English. Blake followed, taking care not to lose the weather-gage, and the two fleets swept on together until they were in the neighbourhood of Dungeness. The odds against him were so great that Blake would have been well justified in avoiding action. But a council of war held in the flagship had decided that something must be attempted. Our fleet had not yet been cured of the rashness already shown by Sir George Ayscue in act, and by Penn in intention. The lesson they were about to receive was very much needed, and it was part of our fortune in this war that it did not prove more severe. In the course of the afternoon of Tuesday the 30th of November, the forty English ships under the command of Blake forced an action with Tromp's eighty. As they held and kept the weather-gage, they escaped complete destruction, but they were severely cut up, and two, the Garland and the Bonaventure, fell into the possession of the enemy. These two vessels, commanded by Captains Axon and Batten, had the audacity to attach themselves to Tromp's flagship. They were promptly surrounded and overpowered. The attempt which Blake made to rescue them was unsuccessful, and as the English ships were unwilling to lose the weather-gage, they could do little more than look on and cannonade from a distance, while the two which had pushed into the midst of the enemy suffered for their excess of daring. Night again put an end to the battle. The English first anchored near Dover, and then returned to the Downs. Tromp saw his convoy out of the Channel, and then cruised up and down threatening our coast, and waiting for the home-coming merchant ships.

Blake returned to the Downs chastened and even a little depressed by the failure of his attempt to defeat Tromp with insufficient forces. He offered to resign his command. The Council of State did not take him at his word. On the contrary, they assured him of their continued confidence, and left him entire discretion as to his movements, while making every effort to strengthen his fleet. They began by taking measures to enforce discipline and a proper martial spirit amongst their captains. Blake had complained "that there was much baseness of spirit, not among the merchantmen only, but many of the State's ships," and he had asked for a committee of inquiry. This request was instantly complied with. Colonel Walton, Colonel Morley, and Mr. Chalmer were sent down at once, not only to make a general inquiry into the action and the condition of the fleet, but to order a trial of those captains whose baseness of spirit had provoked the anger of the admiral. Several of them were ordered for trial. Blake's own brother, Benjamin, was removed from his command. As Benjamin Blake was afterwards employed, and as the other three captains were only fined, it is to be presumed that their conduct had not been very bad. The truth probably is, that if all the captains had been as headlong as Axon and Batten, more of them would have shared the same fate.

More effectual measures than the punishment of backward captains were the recall of Penn from the north, and the commissioning of fresh ships. It was not easy to find the men. Blake had complained in his first despatch that the great number of "private men-of-war," that is, privateers, allowed to cruise against Dutch commerce, served to draw men off from the fleet. The sailors preferred the licence of the privateer, and the opportunities for plunder it presented, to the sterner discipline of the man-of-war. In the out-ports, too, it was difficult to enforce the press. The magistrates were frequently shipowners, who were unwilling to lose the crews of their own vessels, and, when they were not, they had a fellow-sympathy with their townsmen, which made them languid in the discharge of their duties. In spite of the efforts made by the Commonwealth Government to tempt men by promises of better pay and a larger share of prize-money, it was compelled to make unsparing use of the old prerogatives of the Crown, to force all subjects to take a share in defending the realm. Even this did not suffice. Soldiers in large numbers had to be drafted into the fleet to serve as marines, although that word was not in use. There can be no doubt that these men were intended to make good the want of sailors, for it was especially provided that they were to be called upon to do the same work as far as possible.

Throughout the December of 1652 and January and February of 1653, Tromp rode unmolested in the Channel. It was at this time that, according to a legend for which there is not much foundation, he hoisted a broom at his mainmast top as the outward and visible sign of his intention to sweep the Channel. So little did the Council of State feel capable of opposing him with a sufficient naval force during the earlier part of these three months, that it sent off officers to the south coast to remove the lights and buoys, in order to make it dangerous for the Dutch to approach the shore. In fact, both the Government and its admirals had learned that if the Dutch were to be fairly beaten off, a competent force must be collected, and it must act together. To strengthen the command, Deane was called back from Scotland, and Monk was named to fill up the vacancy left by the death of Popham. These two, with Blake, formed the Commission to discharge the office of Lord High Admiral commanding at sea. Penn was continued in his place as Vice-Admiral, but Bourne was removed from active service to direct the dockyard at Harwich, and his place at sea was taken by John Lawson, who had gained a high reputation for skill and courage as a captain. These two may be said to have served as Nautical Assessors to the three soldiers who were entrusted with the general military direction of the fleet.

Towards the middle of February the whole of the naval forces on both sides moved down Channel—Tromp to wait off the Land's End for the Dutch convoys, and the English to wait for and fall upon him as he came back to the eastward.

On the 18th of February the two fleets came in sight of one another some fifteen miles off Portland. The wind was from the west, and was light. Tromp had from eighty to ninety men-of-war with him, and behind them a great flock of merchant ships. The English, numbering from seventy to eighty ships, were to eastward and leeward, and were much scattered. Only the smaller part of them were together, under the immediate direction of the generals at sea—Blake and Deane. The major part were at some distance to the eastward. Seeing the comparative weakness and the isolation of the part of the English fleet nearest him, Tromp took the energetic and intelligent decision to fall upon them at once. Blake and Deane did not flinch, and a hot engagement, in which the English were roughly handled, took place in the early afternoon. Three of the English ships were taken by the Dutch, but the enemy was not able to carry them off. While the ships immediately exposed to attack were engaged, the rest of the fleet to leeward was working up. About four o'clock it had gained a position which would have enabled it to weather the Dutch line, and thus put Tromp between two fires. To avoid this danger, the Dutch admiral tacked his fleet together, and worked to windward—a sufficiently clear proof that the fleets of the time did not fight in a disorderly swarm, but were perfectly capable of manœuvring together in obedience to signals. The three ships which had fallen into the hands of the Dutch were retaken, but a fourth vessel, the Sampson, was found to be so severely shattered, and had lost so many men, including her captain, that it was decided to withdraw the survivors and let her sink. During the evening the English were busy taking men out of the smaller ships to fill up the vacancies caused by death and wounds in the larger, and refitting their damaged rigging. During the night both made their way eastward, within sight of one another's lights, the English on the north side of the Channel, then next them the Dutch men-of-war keeping guard over the merchant ships, which sailed between them and the coast of France.

On the morning of the 19th this great assemblage of ships, largely exceeding in number and still more in tonnage the combined fleets of Medina Sidonia and Lord Howard of Effingham, was off the Isle of Wight. The wind was at W.N.W., which gave the weather-gage to the English, but it was very gentle, and the day was advanced before the English admirals could force an action. As his enemy had now his whole force in hand, Tromp applied himself solely to the protection of his convoy. He sent his merchant ships on ahead, and formed his men-of-war in a half-moon, or rather obtuse angle, with his own flagship, the Brederode, in the apex—that is to say, the other ships were formed in two slanting lines branching out to right and left of Tromp himself. Thus it was impossible for the English to attack the merchant ships, either from N.W. or from S.E., without breaking through the Dutch men-of-war. The action of this day began late, and led to no decisive results, though the English claimed to have taken a few small ships. It can easily be believed that they succeeded in disordering the formation of the Dutch—a very difficult one to maintain; and the bad conduct of several of the Dutch captains near the Kentish Knock makes it credible that some of them were also guilty of misconduct on this occasion. The States General had not shown sufficient firmness in using the trees of Holland for the purpose indicated by Cornelius Witte de With.

The decisive day of the "Three days' battle" was the last. On the morning of the 20th the wind had increased, and the English fleet, not being hampered by heavily laden merchant ships, had no difficulty in overtaking the enemy. A close action was forced as early as nine o'clock in the morning. Both fleets were now approaching the entry to the Straits of Dover. The English were to the north of their enemy, and they steered so as, if possible, to head him before he reached Cape Gris Nez and so cut his road home. The Dutch ships either did not, or could not, serve as an effectual protection to the merchant vessels. Tromp formed his line of battle, and did his own duty with the utmost steadfastness and courage. But the English broke through. The credit of the movement belongs to Penn, who as vice-admiral had been leading the van. Between fifty and sixty merchant ships fell into our hands, and as many more men-of-war as made up the total of our captures to seventeen. Yet the English failed in their main purpose. They did not succeed in heading the Dutch before they rounded Cape Gris Nez, and by dark Tromp anchored his whole force, now in great confusion, in Calais Roads. Under cover of night, and by taking skilful advantage of the ebb-tide, which on that coast makes a north-easterly current, as also of the thick and squally weather which came on after sundown, he carried off all that remained of his convoy. In spite of our successes on the 20th, this was still the great bulk of his merchant ships.

These three days of fighting had cost the English fleet very dear. Both Blake and Deane were wounded, and the loss in captains and men was heavy. The victory had by no means been so complete as had been hoped, but it was not the less a subject of legitimate gratification to England. The general superiority of the English fleet whenever it was intelligently handled, and not hopelessly outnumbered, had been proved, and the country had good grounds for believing that if the war with Holland was pushed with energy, its enemies would be driven off the sea. For the moment the fleet at the mouth of the Straits was in no condition to pursue the Dutch. When day broke on the 21st, the enemy had disappeared. The English fleet found itself alone, with some sixty prizes. It had suffered much damage to its masts and spars. With the wind at N.W. it was on a lee shore, and a gale, or even a very stiff breeze, would have put it in a position of some danger. The decision to make for an English port was both natural and proper. To put their prizes in a place of safety was the natural instinct of the men who looked to their prize-money for the larger part of their reward; and as Tromp had had time enough to carry his convoy into the dangerous shallows of the Dutch coast, there was nothing to be gained by pursuing him. The generals therefore returned to St. Helen's and anchored on the 23rd. Squadrons were sent out both to east and west of the Isle of Wight, but there was no longer any enemy at sea.

The "Three days' battle" was the turning-point of the war. Hitherto the Dutch had fairly divided the honours with ourselves, but from this time forward the upper hand passed decisively to the English fleet. The ships were stronger, and the crews in the main fought better. War is in the last result decided in favour of one combatant or other by power to win at the actual moment of contact. This power was with the English and not with the Dutch, and therefore all the skill and patriotism of Martin Tromp and his lieutenants, Witte de With and Michael de Ruyter, could do no more than postpone the final disaster, and provide that if the flag of Holland were to go down, it should at least sink with honour.

Before the final decisive struggle was fought out, there was an interval, during which active operations languished. Both fleets stood in need of repairs; for if the Dutch had lost severely, not a few of our own vessels had been compelled to drag themselves into Portsmouth so severely crippled that they were in need of a thorough refit. The work of getting the English fleet ready for sea once more was not discharged without difficulties and delay. The Navy Committee had many obstacles to overcome before its squadrons could be put in order to continue the war. There was a great want of men. The sailors no longer volunteered in any large numbers, and the press was ill enforced. Colonel Overton, the governor of Hull, found the local magistrates so lax in their discharge of their duty that he was provoked into threatening to send them to sea in default of sailors. The unpopularity of the navy was due to causes of long standing. One of these, at least, endured throughout the whole course of our wars. It was discovered under the rule of the Commonwealth that the seamen had not lost that preference of the privateer to the man-of-war they had shown during the reign of Elizabeth. Blake had complained of the competition of these partisan fighters of the sea at the very beginning of the war. Government was constrained to put a severe check upon them, partly by limiting the issue of letters of marque to vessels of a certain size, and partly by giving men-of-war captains the right to press sailors from the privateers. There were also very genuine causes of discontent to deter men from volunteering into the service of the State. Under the pressure due to the immense demands made upon its treasury, the Commonwealth had become a bad paymaster. Not only were the salaries of officers and men in arrear, but the contractors were slowly paid, and, taking advantage of the power given them by the position of creditor to the State, they supplied their goods late, and of inferior quality. In the summer of 1653 one Captain John Taylor reported to the Admiralty that the men belonging to the ships at Chatham had refused to do anything towards taking the ballast in or getting it out, or, in fact, to put their hand to the work of fitting the ships for sea. Their excuse was the defective state of the victuals and beer. Captain Taylor had to confess that "they have brought me beer, bread, and butter, worse than I ever saw in the dearest times." The beer was particularly vile, and the brewer protested that he could not make it any better, because he was only paid three shillings and sixpence a barrel. The men found it so bad that they actually preferred to drink water. The crews imputed their sickness to the state of the victuals, and there is every probability that they were right.

That the condition of the sick and wounded was deplorable is proved by the testimony of many witnesses. Thus Dr. Daniel Whistler, who was sent down to Portsmouth in March to attend on General Blake, gives a terrible picture of the state of those who, after being wounded in the "Three days' battle," were landed at Portsmouth. There was no hospital. The wounded men were left for hours in the streets before the Navy Commissioners could find lodgings for them in private houses. When they were lodged, the surgeons very often did not know where to find them, there was a want of linen and medicines, of wholesome food and good nursing. The houses were overcrowded, and nothing was done to protect men against the temptation to drink ardent spirits, which was especially strong at Portsmouth, where the water was brackish. Four months later, Monk himself drew a hardly less dismal picture of the condition of the wounded at Ipswich, Aldeborough, Southwold, and Dunwich. The payments due for their support were irregularly made, and the inhabitants, we are told, were weary of them. Monk was compelled to stand security at his own personal risk in order to raise money for the purpose of helping his unfortunate sailors, lying sick and wounded in the houses of people who in some cases were as poor as themselves, and in others were mere harpies.

These evils were no doubt primarily due to want of money, but they can also be accounted for by the utter want of any organisation capable of dealing with the demands of war on an unprecedented scale. The Council of State fought hard to meet the necessities of the times, and when it had been swept out of the way by Cromwell's expulsion of the Long Parliament on the 19th of April, the Council of the Protector continued these efforts. Thus, in December 1652, a number of proposals for the encouragement of seamen had been made and accepted. They were divided into three sections. The first dealt with the sick and wounded men. They were promised that their pay should be continued until their health was restored, and it was decided that a general hospital should be erected at Deal. Some hospitals in London were to be given up wholly to sick and wounded seamen, and so were half the other hospitals in other parts of England. It was at this date that the wages of able seamen "fit for the helm and lead, top and yard," were raised from 19s. to 24s. a month, with a deduction of 1s. for the chaplain and surgeon, according to the ancient custom. This substantial benefit was accompanied by profuse promises of fairer treatment in future. Another section of the propositions was devoted to the shares in prizes. A bonus of a month's salary was offered to every man who, having served six months, or upwards, since the beginning of the war, would volunteer for the coming year. In order to remove "the many and great disappointments caused by the present way of sharing prizes," it was provided that in future 10s. per ton should be paid for every vessel taken, and £6, 13s. 4d. for every piece of ordnance, "this to be shared amongst them proportionately, according to their respective offices in the ship, and the custom of the sea." What was probably not less agreeable to the sailors was an order that they should have the pillage, that is to say, the right to appropriate at once, as booty, whatever was found on or above the gun-deck of a prize, while a reward of £10 per gun was to be paid for every vessel destroyed. If they could have been fairly carried out, these conditions would have done much to reconcile men to the navy, but, as has been already said, the chronic want of money both of the Council of State and, in later times, of the Protector, drove them to fail in their promises of payment, and to lay hands upon the money in the possession of the Commissioners of Prizes. Yet these Governments strove hard to make both ends meet, and did resolutely endeavour to stop pilfering in the administration of the navy. By expedients and hard work they contrived to keep powerful fleets at sea in an efficient condition.

CHAPTER VIII
THE LATTER HALF OF THE WAR