Seas; and more than two hundred years before Elizabeth came to the
throne, Edward III had testified to his sense of its importance
by ordering a gold coinage bearing a device showing the armed
strength and sovereignty of England based on the sea.'[37] It is
impossible to make intelligible the course of the many wars which
the English waged with the French in the Middle Ages unless the
true naval position of the former is rightly appreciated. Why were
Crecy, Poitiers, Agincourt--not to mention other combats--fought,
not on English, but on continental soil? Why during the so-called
'Hundred Years' War' was England in reality the invader and not
the invaded? We of the present generation are at last aware of the
significance of naval defence, and know that, if properly utilised,
it is the best security against invasion that a sea-surrounded
state can enjoy. It is not, however, commonly remembered that
the same condition of security existed and was properly valued
in mediæval times. The battle of Sluys in 1340 rendered invasion
of England as impracticable as did that of La Hogue in 1692,
that of Quiberon Bay in 1759, and that of Trafalgar in 1805; and
it permitted, as did those battles, the transport of troops to
the continent to support our allies in wars which, had we not
been strong at sea, would have been waged on the soil of our own
country. Our early continental wars, therefore, are proofs of the
long-established efficiency of our naval defences. Notwithstanding
the greater attention paid, within the last dozen years or so,
to naval affairs, it is doubtful if the country generally even
yet recognises the extent to which its security depends upon a
good fleet as fully as our ancestors did nearly seven centuries
ago. The narrative of our pre-Elizabethan campaigns is interesting
merely as a story; and, when told--as for instance D. Hannay
has told it in the introductory chapters of his 'Short History