A Short History of the Royal Navy, 1217 to 1688

by David Hannay

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.

"My lord, it is humbly conceived, that the State would be far better served, if, as formerly, they placed commanders in all the merchant-ships so taken up; for, the commanders now employed being all part-owners of their ships (and fearing some not so clearly conscientious as they should be), I do believe will not be so industrious in taking an enemy as other men; especially considering, that by engagement they not only waste their powder and shot, but are liable to receive damage in their masts, sails, rigging, and hull, and endanger the loss of all, when they may be quiet, and receive the same pay. If they should be oppressed, and forced, it is supposed they will fight for preservation and safety of their ships; which anyone the State shall think fit to employ would perform, and, I presume, upon better principles."

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.