so as not to be hampered in subsequent movements by necessities of repair and supply.  With this persuasion he became eager, by the first of the month, for the admiral’s presence; the more so because confident that, if he were on the spot, he would see the necessity of changing position from leeward to windward.  “I begin to be extremely impatient for the honour of being and acting immediately under your flag, as I do not find myself pleasant in being to leeward; for should an enemy’s fleet attempt to get into Martinique, and the commander of it inclines to avoid battle, nothing but a skirmish will probably happen, which in its consequences may operate as a defeat to the British squadron, though not a ship is lost and the enemy suffer most.”

This is a clear case in which events that actually befell were foreseen; not by supernatural illumination, but by the clear light of unbiassed reason acting upon evident considerations.  There was but a skirmish, the British did suffer badly, and the consequences were equivalent to defeat; for, had the whole British force of the line been present to windward, it would have prevented the junction of the French, and therefore have been so nearly equal to the main body as to have assured an action inflicting very serious injury, incapacitating the enemy for the attacks upon Santa Lucia and Tobago, before which the latter fell, and not improbably deterring De Grasse from the expedition to the Chesapeake which forced the capitulation of Cornwallis.  Such deductions are of course dependent upon the contingencies inseparable from warfare.  They are not certainties, indeed; but they are inferences of very great probability.  So much hinged upon the presence of an officer with the full discretion denied to Hood; of the officer primarily responsible for the fleet, which was intrusted to him and not to another.

Probable also is Hood’s solution of Rodney’s persistence in remaining at St. Eustatius, and keeping the squadron under the command of his second to leeward of Martinique.  He was possessed with the fancied paramount necessity of protecting St. Eustatius against a sudden attack by the enemy, which he imagined might be supported by the small division in Fort Royal; and the value of the booty shut his eyes to every other consideration.  As on the evening of the 12th of April, the great day of glory in his career, the captures already made assumed sufficiency in his eyes, and co-operating with surmisings as to what the beaten and scattered French might do deterred him from further action; so now the prize already secured at St. Eustatius combined with the imaginative “picture he made for himself”—­to use Napoleon’s phrase—­of its possible dangers, to blind him to the really decisive needs of the situation.  It is clear, however, that local naval provision for the safety of a petty island was in point of difficulty, as of consequence, a secondary matter, within the competence of many of his captains; and that the primary factor, on which all depended, was the control of the sea, by the British fleet predominating over the enemy’s.  Consequently the commander-in-chief should have been where his second was, at the centre of decisive action, where an enemy’s fleet was to be expected.