The Battle of All the Ages Read Online Free PDF

Matthew. But most fell well short. Difficult to get the aim right in this heavy a sea. Same for them, of course, which is why they’ve fired so high.’
    ‘Very well, Mister Burdett. Do your best, once we have reloaded.’
    ‘If only we could use the demi-cannon on the lower deck, Sir Matthew . Then, it would be a different matter.’
    Francis Gale, standing nearby and cradling a musket incongruously against his cassock, nodded. ‘I shall pray for a calm sea, Master Gunner.’
    ‘Amen to that, Reverend.’
    With that, Burdett returned to oversee the reloading of the guns on the upper deck.
    ‘Why is it that we fire low and the Dutch fire high, Sir Matthew?’ Rochester asked.
    ‘It is not a universal rule that they do this and we do that, My Lord,’ I said, ‘but in general, our ships have more guns than theirs: Dutch ships must be smaller than ours to navigate the shoals off their coast, and their harbours are shallow. And theirs are often lighter built than ours, with less heavy scantlings.’ I saw the mist cloud his eyes once again. ‘The dimensions of the frames and the beams,’ I said. Still the mist swirled. ‘The thickness of the wood.’ At last, some sort of understanding seemed to dawn. ‘So usually, but not always, we fire into their hulls from a distance, hoping to kill their guncrews and break their spirit –’
    As if to illustrate my point, our second broadside fired, Burdett now having my authority to fire at his own discretion. A shot struck the Amsterdammer in the very middle of the hull, next to one of the gunports. A jagged gap appeared, as if the wood was merely paper that had been punched through, and even across several hundred yards of open water, the screams of men on the gun deck were clearly audible. The Amsterdammer fired off her response almost at once. Rochester ducked, but for a second time, almost all of her shot passed well above our heads.
    ‘We fire into the hulls from a distance, hoping to cripple the ship that way,’ I said. ‘They fire for our masts and rigging, hoping to disable us, allowing them to close and board. But with the sea as it is, My Lord, it is devilishly difficult for either of us to make our shot strike where we wish it to. The only blessing is that we have the wind, which means we determine the range – the only way the Dutchman, yonder, can carry out his preferred tactic of boarding us is to come up into the wind, and that we will not let him do.’
    Rochester’s expression was troubled, and I realised that I would have to explain to him what having the wind meant, and what the weather gage was. Yet again. Having already explained it to him at least five times, both before and after the fleet’s sailing from the Thames. Fortunately he seemed to realise that this was a question it was probably betternot to ask, and with some thankfulness I moved away to the starboard rail, to see how the rest of the battle fared.
    At first sight, all seemed well; indeed, better than well, given the odds we faced, and that remained the case for much of the afternoon. The two fleets were sailing south-east, parallel to each other, each fleet in its line of battle. We were sailing close-hauled with the weather gage, being closer to the south-westerly wind than the Dutch. Many of the Dutch ships were still out of action, well to the north. All along the line, ships were cannonading each other. As was so often the case in battle, the rival commanders had sought each other out: thus the Duke of Albemarle in the
Royal Charles
came up with De Ruyter, who was under way at last in his flagship, the proud new
Seven Provinces
, and the two mighty ships were trading broadsides. Ahead of us, Will Berkeley was particularly hotly engaged against Tromp’s flagship, the
Hollandia
.
    ‘It seems auspicious enough,’ said Francis at one point in the middle of the afternoon. And so it did. As yet, we had no casualties at all aboard the proud King’s Prick, and precious little damage,