"He would neither wait for the weather nor Prince Rupert," he said.
There was a great south-west wind, which blew the English ships straight upon the Dutch, who were surprised at the suddenness of the attack, and had not so much as time to weigh anchor, but cut their cables and made their way back to their own shore.
Everything was against the English. Their ships were so laid down by the gale that they could not open their lower port-holes to leeward, whereas the Dutch, facing them with their broadsides to windward, had the free use of all their tiers of guns. A terrible fight ensued. Monk had followed the Dutch to Dunkirk, but being forced suddenly to tack, his topmast came to grief, and he was obliged to lie to.
It were in vain to tell here of the gallant deeds done alike by Dutch and English. It was a fight for the supremacy of the seas. Many of the English officers had protested against the unequal attack made upon them by the Dutch. "A mad fight" it is called in history. The English suffered severely; many of their ships were sunk, some were taken, and nearly all those which came into action were ruined in their masts and rigging by the chain-shot, a new invention.
So night fell; but on the morrow Monk resumed the conflict, and all day long the English fought against a far superior force. Another night fell and another day dawned--the third day of carnage--and the fight was renewed; but now Monk fought retreating, and after removing the men from some of the disabled ships, he caused them to be burnt.
Where was the White Squadron? Where was Prince Rupert and his brave men? On the first day of the battle the prince had stopped on his westward course, intelligence having reached him that the Dutch were at sea.
To put back, to make for Dover, was speedily done; but when he reached the Downs he heard no sound of battle, nor could he obtain any information concerning the enemy. Reginald was beside him, and together they strained their ears to catch the least sound. At last, on the 3rd of June, heavy cannonading was heard. Instantly the prince spread his flying canvas to the wind.
He came up just in time to save Monk. All day they fought, and all the following day also. How any man survived to tell the tale is marvellous. In the beginning of their second day the Prince Royal, esteemed the best man-of-war in the world, struck on a sand-bank, and was taken by the Dutch. It seemed as if nothing human would stop the fighting and the carnage; only God's hand could stay it.
Suddenly there arose and enveloped both fleets a thick and impenetrable fog. The guns were silenced and the slaughter ceased. When it lifted, the Dutch fleet was in full retreat, and the English were too disabled to follow them. Victory or no victory, it had been a cruel experience. It was called an English victory, and thanksgivings were ordered.
Truly we had reason to thank God that we had not lost our whole fleet.