During the early years of this century England's naval power stood
at a height never reached before or since by that of any other
nation. On every sea her navies rode, not only triumphant, but
with none to dispute their sway. The island folk had long claimed
the mastery of the ocean, and they had certainly succeeded in
making their claim completely good during the time of bloody
warfare that followed the breaking out of the French Revolution.
Since the year 1792 each European nation, in turn, had learned to
feel bitter dread of the weight of England's hand. In the Baltic,
Sir Samuel Hood had taught the Russians that they must needs keep
in port when the English cruisers were in the offing. The descendants
of the Vikings had seen their whole navy destroyed at Copenhagen.
No Dutch fleet ever put out after the day when, off Camperdown, Lord
Duncan took possession of De Winter's shattered ships. But a few
years before 1812, the greatest sea-fighter of all time had died
in Trafalgar Bay, and in dying had crumbled to pieces the navies
of France and of Spain.

From that day England's task was but to keep in port such of her
foes' vessels as she had not destroyed. France alone still possessed
fleets that could be rendered formidable, and so, from the Scheldt
to Toulon, her harbors were watched and her coasts harried by the
blockading squadrons of the English. Elsewhere the latter had no
fear of their power being seriously assailed; but their vast commerce
and numerous colonies needed ceaseless protection. Accordingly in
every sea their cruisers could be found, of all sizes, from the
stately ship-of-the-line, with her tiers of heavy cannon and her
many hundreds of men, down to the little cutter carrying but a
score of souls and a couple of light guns. All these cruisers, but