For nearly a week Spragge was baffled by calms and catspaws of wind. His second small fireship was consumed through the folly of a drunken gunner, who fired off his pistol in some idle extravagance, and so set her in flames. There was now but one fireship left, the Little Victory, and, as she drew eight feet of water, she could not be used against an enemy who was drawn up on the very edge of the shore. The corsairs had in the meantime dismasted their vessels to form a boom, so that the difficulty of attacking them increased as the means diminished. On the 8th May a convoy of ammunition was seen approaching Bougie along the coast, escorted by Arab horsemen. But Spragge had resolved not to go till he had struck an effective stroke, and fortune favoured his pertinacity, as she is apt to do. He had lightened the Little Victory till she drew only four feet of water. So soon as the wind served, the greater ships were to engage the forts. Under the cover they afforded, a detachment of boats was to cut the boom, and the fireship was to be steered through the opening. Just as the convoy was nearing the town, amid the premature rejoicings of the Algerines, the wind began to blow in strong from the sea. Then Sir Edward Spragge carried out his plan. He himself engaged the forts. The boats, under the command of the younger Harman, Pearce, and Pinn, cut the boom. The Little Victory was steered through the breach and laid across the bows of the nearest pirate ship. Under the impulse of the wind the flames spread quickly, and before next morning there were six skimmers of the sea the less on the waters of the Mediterranean.
The destruction of the ships at Bougie was a severe blow to the Algerines. Being unable to avenge themselves on the English, they vented their rage on their own Dey. He was murdered, and a successor was appointed. The new ruler did what the old must have done if he had been spared. He made peace. Even so it required another visit of Spragge's squadron to Algiers to compel the pirates to keep faith. At last a treaty was made, and English trade appeared to be safe for the time from the pirate vessels of Algiers. Spragge returned home in the spring of 1672, having effected the purpose for which his squadron was sent abroad with an exceptionally full measure of success.
It was, however, only for the time being. The outbreak of the third war with Holland in 1672 employed the whole naval force of the English Government. The fact was soon known to the Barbary States. It is convenient to forestall the course of events, and finish with this chapter of naval history. Although the subsequent proceedings against the pirates belonged to the years which followed the signing of the peace with Holland, they may be told here, since they form part of the same story and stand wholly apart from the war in the Channel and North Sea. The excesses of the pirates were so notorious, and the outcries of the English merchants so loud, that another squadron was despatched to the Mediterranean in 1674. The command was given to Sir John Narbrough. The reader will remember that this officer comes second in what Lord Macaulay calls the strange line of descent from Myngs to Shovell. John Narbrough was a Norfolk man, belonging to a family which held a position intermediate between that of the county families and the working class. He was, in fact, almost a gentleman by birth, but his family seemed to have been poor, and the lad, like many other gentlemen in his position at that time, was apprenticed to a trade. Whether he was ever, as Macaulay puts it, cabin-boy to Sir Christopher Myngs may possibly be doubtful. There would be nothing in the habits of the time to make it improbable. The cabin-boy of an admiral, or even of a captain, would be very much in the position of the page of a nobleman or the maid of his wife. We know that gentlemen and ladies of very good birth served as the pages and maids of people of rank, and that this position in the household of a great man was not thought discreditable. Whether he was cabin-boy or not, Narbrough undoubtedly served under Sir Christopher Myngs, and owed much to his recommendation. He had fought in the second Dutch war. In the interval of peace he had commanded a curious expedition into the South Seas. He was sent with a commission from the Duke of York to visit the possessions of the Spaniards on the Pacific coast of South America. The object seems to have been to see whether it would be possible to establish a trade. The commercial policy of the Spaniards ought to have been sufficiently well known to the English Court to forbid any such hope. Narbrough reached the coast of Chili. He was received by the Spanish officials with a mixture of courtesy and suspicion, and returned, after a brief stay in the Pacific, having effected nothing. The Spaniards would not allow of any trade, and Narbrough was too much the king's officer to begin a course of piracy, after the model of private adventurers when they were debarred from commerce in the Spanish Seas.
His command in the Mediterranean was eventful and creditable. The chief offenders on this occasion were rather the Tripolitans than the Algerines. Narbrough cruised against them all through 1675. He began in the customary way by negotiations which led to no result, and then had recourse to active hostilities. In the June of that year he drove one of their largest ships ashore and destroyed it. At the end of August he struck another blow at the enemy. The English squadron was cruising outside Tripoli when a Sattee, a large lateen-rigged ship working both with sails and sweeps, was seen endeavouring to slip into port by hugging the shore. It was a calm, and she was worked with her oars. Narbrough despatched the boats of his squadron to cut her off. The Sattee, finding that the boats had cut her road home, ran on shore. The English boats were thereupon anchored close to her, with the intention of endeavouring to set her on fire by means of a fireship, so soon as it could be got ready. The Tripolitans were soon made aware of the dangerous position of the Sattee. Two large armed galleys were sent out to drive off the English boats and tow the pirate vessel into the bay. For a time they were successful. The English boats retired, and the galleys took the Sattee in tow. But while this was in progress the sea breeze got up. The light frigates of Narbrough's squadron were able to stand in, and all three corsairs were cut off together. Both the Sattee and the galleys were now driven on shore, and while in this helpless position were fired by the English boats.
This blow was so far effectual that the Bey of Tripoli was induced to open negotiations for peace. Narbrough employed as his representative his first lieutenant, Cloudesley Shovell. Shovell is the third in Lord Macaulay's line of descent. He came into the navy under the protection of Narbrough. He also was a Norfolk man, and his name will be conspicuous in the campaigns of the English Navy throughout the whole of the next generation. Shovell was still young, and it is said that the Bey considered himself insulted by the choice of so youthful a diplomatic agent. He vented his ill-will by insult to Shovell. The young lieutenant was by no means of a long-suffering disposition, but he was an officer of great care and judgment. He bore the insolence of the barbarian with patience, and in the meantime turned his leisure to account by making careful observations of the position of the pirate ships in the harbour at Tripoli. His inspection satisfied him that the corsairs were open to a vigorous boat attack, and he reported as much to Sir John Narbrough. Since the Bey was obviously resolved not to make peace until he was compelled to do so, Sir John decided to apply the necessary pressure. The year 1676 had now begun, and it was on the 14th of January that the English admiral resolved to act. The boats of the fleet were armed and supplied with combustibles. Under cover of night they entered the harbour. A guardship which was found lying ready for the purpose of protecting the vessels at anchor was carried by boarding, and the boats, pushing on, took possession of and set fire to four of the Bey's best vessels. They then returned to the squadron without having suffered any loss. This stroke abated the insolence of the enemy, but he was not yet sufficiently cowed to make a really satisfactory peace. The English insisted that the pirates should not only release the prisoners in their possession, but should pay an indemnity for the damage done to English trade. This they refused to do. Finding that the burning of their vessels had not been enough, Sir John Narbrough bombarded the town, and also effected a landing at a place some distance from Tripoli, and burned a magazine of timber accumulated for the construction of other cruisers.
The necessity of refitting his squadron now compelled Sir John Narbrough to return to port. He was allowed to make use of Malta by the Knights of St. John. After having refitted his ships, Narbrough returned at once to Tripoli. This persistence finally broke down the spirit of the corsairs. They agreed to make peace, on the conditions that they should release their prisoners and pay eighty thousand dollars. Even yet the work was not thoroughly done. No sooner had Sir John Narbrough obtained the signature of the treaty and sailed away from before the town, than some of the pirate vessels belonging to it (which, having left on a cruise some months before, had escaped the English squadron) returned. The captains of these adventurers, supported by their crews, raised an agitation against the Bey for his weakness. He was compelled to flee. The report of this revolution reached Sir John Narbrough before he had left the Mediterranean, and with it came the news that the pirates were again beginning to plunder English trading ships. He returned to Tripoli, and once more bombarded the town. This last act of vigour finally persuaded the pirates that they were the weaker. The new Bey confirmed the treaty made by his predecessor, and the ringleaders of the revolt were handed over to the English admiral as a guarantee for the sincere observance of the treaty.
Sir John Narbrough felt justified in returning home with his squadron in the spring of 1677, but his stay there was short. One or other of the pirate towns was always sure to seize upon the chance afforded by the temporary absence of English warships to renew its depredations. On this occasion it was Algiers which broke its engagements. Undeterred by the lesson inflicted upon Tripoli, and the memory of the punishment they had received from Sir Edward Spragge, the Algerines returned to their old courses in 1677. Narbrough was sent out in the summer of that year. His second campaign in the Mediterranean lasted for two years, and was directed against the Algerines. Several of their cruisers were captured, and on one occasion Sir John made prize of twelve of their merchant vessels, and two men-of-war which were sailing with them as convoy. Then he bombarded Algiers, but the strength of the place was so great that this measure proved of little effect. A success gained in the month of November in 1678 did more to cow these enemies of Christendom. The Algerines fitted out a squadron for the purpose of retaliating on English commerce. It consisted of five vessels—the Greyhound of 42 guns, the Golden Tiger and Five Stars of 36, the New Fountain of 34, and the Flying Horse of 32 guns. But the whole of this squadron fell together into the hands of Sir John Narbrough, who took it after a smart action and carried it bodily into the friendly port of Cadiz. This blow so far weakened the Algerines that Narbrough returned home in May 1679, with fifteen of the ships of his squadron which stood most in need of repair. He left a detachment behind him under the command of Arthur Herbert, who remained on the station till 1682. The active operations of the English fleet were put a stop to when our navy was reduced to impotence at the end of the reign of Charles II. Herbert we shall meet again. The operations which took place under his command are not of sufficient importance to call for notice.
The third Dutch war, and the last in which England had Holland for a principal adversary, lasted for two years, from the spring of 1672 to the spring of 1674. It is not a passage in our history that Englishmen can look back upon with pride. Our seamen indeed fought as gallantly as ever, but the leadership they found was of the poorest. This of itself might have been only a misfortune due to a temporary clouding of the military intelligence of our chiefs. But the war was essentially infamous. It was undertaken for no national purpose, and on no sufficient grounds. It is true that, in a way, it brought us a certain profit. The colossal piece of brigandage organised by Louis XIV., and encouraged by the co-operation of Charles II., did undoubtedly give the death-blow to the commercial supremacy of Holland, and it was England that stepped into her inheritance. Yet it is certain that the United Provinces, limited as they necessarily were to a small territory, must have been outstripped by the great consolidated States about them. The war can by no possibility have done more than hasten the date of their fall. As a set-off to what we gained through the distress of the Dutch, we have to put the immediate loss inflicted on English commerce, the infamy which the character of the war fixed on our Government, and the stimulus given to those passions and fears which brought England to the very verge of a civil war. It may be doubted whether the advantage we gained was worth the price we paid for it. Unless a small money profit is a sufficient compensation for a national shame, we certainly lost. It may be asserted, with as much confidence as can be shown in maintaining any historical opinion, that the frantic fever of terror and suspicion, which threw England into the cruelties of the Popish Plot, can be traced directly to the policy which produced the third Dutch war.
The conclusion of the peace with Holland in 1667 was due at least as much to the hidden policy of Charles II. and the aims of Louis XIV. as to the necessities of the Crown. The King of France was resolved to extend his kingdom towards the north and north-east, where it was not shut in by mountain barriers, by absorbing the Spanish Netherlands. These aims of his had at once excited the fears of the Dutch and of the more patriotic among English politicians. It was not the interest of England to see France established as mistress of the Netherlands. Therefore the second Dutch war was barely over before the majority of Englishmen were ready to forget their late rivalry with the States, and to enter into the Triple Alliance with Holland and Sweden. The avowed object of this league was to compel Spain to make certain concessions to France, but its unavowed though well-known purpose was to provide the means of offering an effectual resistance to France if she went farther than she had yet done. So long as this bond remained unbroken, there was a barrier in the way of the ambition of the French king. For that very reason it was the interest of the French king to break the Triple Alliance, and he found the means of effecting his purpose in the character and position of Charles II.
The preliminaries of the infamous Treaty of Dover, signed in May 1670, need not be repeated here. In its main lines this treaty bound the King of England to assist in the conquest of the Dutch Republic by an army and a fleet. When the conquest was effected, England was to receive as her share of the spoil the island of Walcheren and some other points on the Dutch coast. During the progress of the war Charles was to receive a pension from the King of France. The treaty was kept rigidly secret, even from the majority of the king's most trusted servants.