huge boa constrictors, and knotted the sufferers together with them.
   Tintoret does not like to be so bound; so he makes the serpents little
   flying and fluttering monsters like lampreys with wings; and the
   children of Israel, instead of being thrown into convulsed and
   writhing groups, are scattered, fainting in the fields, far away in
   the distance. As usual, Tintoret's conception, while thoroughly
   characteristic of himself, is also truer to the words of Scripture. We
   are told that "the Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and they
   _bit_ the people;" we are not told that they crushed the people to
   death. And while thus the truest, it is also the most terrific
   conception. M. Angelo's would be terrific if one could believe in it:
   but our instinct tells us that boa constrictors do not come in armies;
   and we look upon the picture with as little emotion as upon the handle
   of a vase, or any other form worked out of serpents, where there is no
   probability of serpents actually occurring. But there is a probability
   in Tintoret's conception. We feel that it is not impossible that there
   should come up a swarm of these small winged reptiles: and their
   horror is not diminished by their smallness: not that they have any of
   the grotesque terribleness of German invention; they might have been
   made infinitely uglier with small pains, but it is their
   _veritableness_ which makes them awful. They have triangular heads
   with sharp beaks or muzzle; and short, rather thick bodies, with bony
   processes down the back like those of sturgeons; and small wings
   spotted with orange and black; and round glaring eyes, not very large,
   but very ghastly, with an intense delight in biting expressed in them.
   (It is observable, that the Venetian painter has got his main idea of
   them from the sea-horses and small reptiles of the Lagoons.) These
   monsters are fluttering and writhing about everywhere, fixing on
   whatever they come near with their sharp venomous heads; and they are
   coiling about on the ground, and all the shadows and thickets are full
   of them, so that there is no escape anywhere: and, in order to give
   the idea of greater extent to the plague, Tintoret has not been
   content with one horizon; I have before mentioned the excessive
   strangeness of this composition, in having a cavern open in the right
   of the foreground, through which is seen another sky and another
   horizon. At the top of the picture, the Divine Being is seen borne by
   angels, apparently passing over the congregation in wrath, involved in
   masses of dark clouds; while, behind, an Angel of mercy is descending
   toward Moses, surrounded by a globe of white light. This globe is
   hardly seen from below; it is not a common glory, but a transparent
   sphere, like a bubble, which not only envelopes the angel, but crosses
   the figure of Moses, throwing the upper part of it into a subdued pale
   color, as if it were crossed by a sunbeam. Tintoret is the only
   painter who plays these tricks with transparent light, the only man
   who seems to have perceived the effects of sunbeams, mists, and
   clouds, in the far away atmosphere; and to have used what he saw on
   towers, clouds, or mountains, to enhance the sublimity of his figures.
   The whole upper part of this picture is magnificent, less with respect
   to individual figures, than for the drift of its clouds, and
   originality and complication of its light and shade; it is something
   like Raffaelle's "Vision of Ezekiel," but far finer. It is difficult
   to understand how any painter, who could represent floating clouds so
   nobly as he has done here, could ever paint the odd, round, pillowy
   masses which so often occur in his more carelessly designed sacred
   subjects. The lower figures are not so interesting, and the whole is
   painted with a view to effect from below, and gains little by close
   examination.

   25. _Fall of Manna._ In none of these three large compositions has the
   painter made the slightest effort at expression in the human
   countenance; everything is done by gesture, and the faces of the
   people who are drinking from the rock, dying from the serpent-bites,
   and eating the manna, are all alike as calm as if nothing was
   happening; in addition to this, as they are painted for distant
   effect, the heads are unsatisfactory and coarse when seen near, and
   perhaps in this last picture the more so, and yet the story is
   exquisitely told. We have seen in the Church of San Giorgio Maggiore
   another example of his treatment of it, where, however, the gathering
   of manna is a subordinate employment, but here it is principal. Now,
   observe, we are told of the manna, that it was found in the morning;
   that then there lay round about the camp a small round thing like the
   hoar-frost, and that "when the sun waxed hot it melted." Tintoret has
   endeavored, therefore, first of all, to give the idea of coolness; the
   congregation are reposing in a soft green meadow, surrounded by blue
   hills, and there are rich trees above them, to the branches of one of
   which is attached a great grey drapery to catch the manna as it comes
   down. In any other picture such a mass of drapery would assuredly have
   had some vivid color, but here it is grey; the fields are cool frosty
   green, the mountains cold blue, and, to complete the expression and
   meaning of all this, there is a most important point to be noted in
   the form of the Deity, seen above, through an opening in the clouds.
   There are at least ten or twelve other pictures in which the form of
   the Supreme Being occurs, to be found in the Scuola di San Rocco
   alone; and in every one of these instances it is richly colored, the
   garments being generally red and blue, but in this picture of the
   manna the figure is _snow white_. Thus the painter endeavors to show
   the Deity as the giver of bread, just as in the "Striking of the Rock"
   we saw that he represented Him as the Lord of the rivers, the
   fountains, and the waters. There is one other very sweet incident at
   the bottom of the picture; four or five sheep, instead of pasturing,
   turn their heads aside to catch the manna as it comes down, or seem to
   be licking it off each other's fleeces. The tree above, to which the
   drapery is tied, is the most delicate and delightful piece of leafage
   in all the Scuola; it has a large sharp leaf, something like that of a
   willow, but five times the size.

   26. _Jacob's Dream._ A picture which has good effect from below, but
   gains little when seen near. It is an embarrassing one for any
   painter, because angels always look awkward going up and down stairs;
   one does not see the use of their wings. Tintoret has thrown them into
   buoyant and various attitudes, but has evidently not treated the
   subject with delight; and it is seen to all the more disadvantage
   because just above the painting of the "Ascension," in which the full
   fresh power of the painter is developed. One would think this latter
   picture had been done just after a walk among hills, for it is full of
   the most delicate effects of transparent cloud, more or less veiling
   the faces and forms of the angels, and covering with white light the
   silvery sprays of the palms, while the clouds in the "Jacob's Dream"
   are the ordinary rotundities of the studio.

   27. _Ezekiel's Vision._ I suspect this has been repainted, it is so
   heavy and dead in color; a fault, however, observable in many of the
   small pictures on the ceiling, and perhaps the natural result of the
   fatigue of such a mind as Tintoret's. A painter who threw such intense
   energy into some of his works can hardly but have been languid in
   others in a degree never experienced by the more tranquil minds of
   less powerful workmen; and when this languor overtook him whilst he
   was at work on pictures where a certain space had to be covered by
   mere force of arm, this heaviness of color could hardly but have been
   the consequence: it shows itself chiefly in reds and other hot hues,
   many of the pictures in the Ducal Palace also displaying it in a
   painful degree. This "Ezekiel's Vision" is, however, in some measure
   worthy of the master, in the wild and horrible energy with which the
   skeletons are leaping up about the prophet; but it might have been
   less horrible and more sublime, no attempt being made to represent the
   space of the Valley of Dry Bones, and the whole canvas being occupied
   only by eight figures, of which five are half skeletons. It it is
   strange that, in such a subject, the prevailing hues should be red and
   brown.

   28. _Fall of Man._ The two canvases last named are the most
   considerable in size upon the roof, after the centre pieces. We now
   come to the smaller subjects which surround the "Striking the Rock;"
   of these this "Fall of Man" is the best, and I should think it very
   fine anywhere but in the Scuola di San Rocco; there is a grand light
   on the body of Eve, and the vegetation is remarkably rich, but the
   faces are coarse, and the composition uninteresting. I could not get
   near enough to see what the grey object is upon which Eve appears to
   be sitting, nor could I see any serpent. It is made prominent in the
   picture of the Academy of this same subject, so that I suppose it is
   hidden in the darkness, together with much detail which it would be
   necessary to discover in order to judge the work justly.

   29. _Elijah (?)._ A prophet holding down his face, which is covered
   with his hand. God is talking with him, apparently in rebuke. The
   clothes on his breast are rent, and the action of the figures might
   suggest the idea of the scene between the Deity and Elijah at Horeb:
   but there is no suggestion of the past magnificent scenery,--of the
   wind, the earthquake, or the fire; so that the conjecture is good for
   very little. The painting is of small interest; the faces are vulgar,
   and the draperies have too much vapid historical dignity to be
   delightful.

   30. _Jonah._ The whale here occupies fully one-half of the canvas;
   being correspondent in value with a landscape background. His mouth is
   as large as a cavern, and yet, unless the mass of red color in the
   foreground be a piece of drapery, his tongue is too large for it. He
   seems to have lifted Jonah out upon it, and not yet drawn it back, so
   that it forms a kind of crimson cushion for him to kneel upon in his
   submission to the Deity. The head to which this vast tongue belongs is
   sketched in somewhat loosely, and there is little remarkable about it
   except its size, nor much in the figures, though the submissiveness of
   Jonah is well given. The great thought of Michael Angelo renders one
   little charitable to any less imaginative treatment of this subject.

   31. _Joshua (?)._ This is a most interesting picture, and it is a
   shame that its subject is not made out, for it is not a common one.
   The figure has a sword in its hand, and looks up to a sky full of
   fire, out of which the form of the Deity is stooping, represented as
   white and colorless. On the other side of the picture there is seen
   among the clouds a pillar apparently falling, and there is a crowd at
   the feet of the principal figure, carrying spears. Unless this be
   Joshua at the fall of Jericho, I cannot tell what it means; it is
   painted with great vigor, and worthy of a better place.

   32. _Sacrifice of Isaac._ In conception, it is one of the least worthy
   of the master in the whole room, the three figures being thrown into
   violent attitudes, as inexpressive as they are strained and
   artificial. It appears to have been vigorously painted, but vulgarly;
   that is to say, the light is concentrated upon the white beard and
   upturned countenance of Abraham, as it would have been in one of the
   dramatic effects of the French school, the result being that the head
   is very bright and very conspicuous, and perhaps, in some of the late
   operations upon the roof, recently washed and touched. In consequence,
   every one who comes into the room, is first invited to observe the
   "bella testa di Abramo." The only thing characteristic of Tintoret is
   the way in which the pieces of ragged wood are tossed hither and
   thither in the pile upon which Isaac is bound, although this
   scattering of the wood is inconsistent with the Scriptural account of
   Abraham's deliberate procedure, for we are told of him that "he set
   the wood in order." But Tintoret had probably not noticed this, and
   thought the tossing of the timber into the disordered heap more like
   the act of the father in his agony.

   33. _Elijah at the Brook Cherith (?)._ I cannot tell if I have rightly
   interpreted the meaning of this picture, which merely represents a
   noble figure couched upon the ground, and an angel appearing to him;
   but I think that between the dark tree on the left, and the recumbent
   figure, there is some appearance of a running stream, at all events
   there is of a mountainous and stony place. The longer I study this
   master, the more I feel the strange likeness between him and Turner,
   in our never knowing what subject it is that will stir him to
   exertion. We have lately had him treating Jacob's Dream, Ezekiel's
   Vision, Abraham's Sacrifice, and Jonah's Prayer, (all of them subjects
   on which the greatest painters have delighted to expend their
   strength,) with coldness, carelessness, and evident absence of
   delight; and here, on a sudden, in a subject so indistinct that one
   cannot be sure of its meaning, and embracing only two figures, a man
   and an angel, forth he starts in his full strength. I believe he must
   somewhere or another, the day before, have seen a kingfisher; for this
   picture seems entirely painted for the sake of the glorious downy
   wings of the angel,--white clouded with blue, as the bird's head and
   wings are with green,--the softest and most elaborate in plumage that
   I have seen in any of his works: but observe also the general
   sublimity obtained by the mountainous lines of the drapery of the
   recumbent figure, dependent for its dignity upon these forms alone, as
   the face is more than half hidden, and what is seen of it
   expressionless.

   34. _The Paschal Feast._ I name this picture by the title given in the
   guide-books; it represents merely five persons watching the increase
   of a small fire lighted on a table or altar in the midst of them. It
   is only because they have all staves in their hands that one may
   conjecture this fire to be that kindled to consume the Paschal
   offering. The effect is of course a fire light; and, like all mere
   fire lights that I have ever seen, totally devoid of interest.

   35. _Elisha feeding the People._ I again guess at the subject: the
   picture only represents a figure casting down a number of loaves
   before a multitude; but, as Elisha has not elsewhere occurred, I
   suppose that these must be the barley loaves brought from
   Baalshalisha. In conception and manner of painting, this picture and
   the last, together with the others above-mentioned, in comparison with
   the "Elijah at Cherith," may be generally described as "dregs of
   Tintoret:" they are tired, dead, dragged out upon the canvas
   apparently in the heavy-hearted state which a man falls into when he
   is both jaded with toil and sick of the work he is employed upon. They
   are not hastily painted; on the contrary, finished with considerably
   more care than several of the works upon the walls; but those, as, for
   instance, the "Agony in the Garden," are hurried sketches with the
   man's whole heart in them, while these pictures are exhausted
   fulfilments of an appointed task. Whether they were really amongst the
   last painted, or whether the painter had fallen ill at some
   intermediate time, I cannot say; but we shall find him again in his
   utmost strength in the room which we last enter.

   [Illustration: Fourth Group. Inner room on the upper floor.

                              On the Roof.

      36 to 39. Children's Heads.          41 to 44. Children.
      40. St. Rocco in Heaven.             45 to 56. Allegorical Figures.

                             On the Walls.

      57. Figure in Niche.                 60. Ecce Homo.
      58. Figure in Niche.                 61. Christ bearing his Cross.
      59. Christ before Pilate.            62. CRUCIFIXION.]

   36 to 39. _Four Children's Heads_, which it is much to be regretted
   should be thus lost in filling small vacuities of the ceiling.

   40. _St. Rocco in Heaven._ The central picture of the roof, in the
   inner room. From the well-known anecdote respecting the production of
   this picture, whether in all its details true or not, we may at least
   gather that having been painted in competition with Paul Veronese and
   other powerful painters of the day, it was probably Tintoret's
   endeavor to make it as popular and showy as possible. It is quite
   different from his common works; bright in all its tints and tones;
   the faces carefully drawn, and of an agreeable type; the outlines
   firm, and the shadows few; the whole resembling Correggio more than
   any Venetian painter. It is, however, an example of the danger, even
   to the greatest artist, of leaving his own style; for it lacks all the
   great virtues of Tintoret, without obtaining the lusciousness of
   Correggio. One thing, at all events, is remarkable in it,--that,
   though painted while the competitors were making their sketches, it
   shows no sign of haste or inattention.

   41 to 44. _Figures of Children_, merely decorative.

   45 to 56. _Allegorical Figures on the Roof._ If these were not in the
   same room with the "Crucifixion," they would attract more public
   attention than any works in the Scuola, as there are here no black
   shadows, nor extravagances of invention, but very beautiful figures
   richly and delicately colored, a good deal resembling some of the best
   works of Andrea del Sarto. There is nothing in them, however,
   requiring detailed examination. The two figures between the windows
   are very slovenly, if they are his at all; and there are bits of
   marbling and fruit filling the cornices, which may or may not be his:
   if they are, they are tired work, and of small importance.

   59. _Christ before Pilate._ A most interesting picture, but, which is
   unusual, best seen on a dark day, when the white figure of Christ
   alone draws the eye, looking almost like a spirit; the painting of the
   rest of the picture being both somewhat thin and imperfect. There is a
   certain meagreness about all the minor figures, less grandeur and
   largeness in the limbs and draperies, and less solidity, it seems,
   even in the color, although its arrangements are richer than in many
   of the compositions above described. I hardly know whether it is owing
   to this thinness of color, or on purpose, that the horizontal clouds
   shine through the crimson flag in the distance; though I should think
   the latter, for the effect is most beautiful. The passionate action of
   the Scribe in lifting his hand to dip the pen into the ink-horn is,
   however, affected and overstrained, and the Pilate is very mean;
   perhaps intentionally, that no reverence might be withdrawn from the
   person of Christ. In work of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries,
   the figures of Pilate and Herod are always intentionally made
   contemptible.

   _Ecce Homo._ As usual, Tintoret's own peculiar view of the subject.
   Christ is laid fainting on the ground, with a soldier standing on one
   side of him; while Pilate, on the other, withdraws the robe from the
   scourged and wounded body, and points it out to the Jews. Both this
   and the picture last mentioned resemble Titian more than Tintoret in
   the style of their treatment.

   61. _Christ bearing his Cross._ Tintoret is here recognizable again in
   undiminished strength. He has represented the troops and attendants
   climbing Calvary by a winding path, of which two turns are seen, the
   figures on the uppermost ledge, and Christ in the centre of them,
   being relieved against the sky; but, instead of the usual simple
   expedient of the bright horizon to relieve the dark masses, there is
   here introduced, on the left, the head of a white horse, which blends
   itself with the sky in one broad mass of light. The power of the
   picture is chiefly in effect, the figure of Christ being too far off
   to be very interesting, and only the malefactors being seen on the
   nearer path; but for this very reason it seems to me more impressive,
   as if one had been truly present at the scene, though not exactly in
   the right place for seeing it.

   62. _The Crucifixion._ I must leave this picture to work its will on
   the spectator; for it is beyond all analysis, and above all praise.

    S

 SAGREDO, PALAZZO, on the Grand Canal, II. 256. Much defaced, but full
   of interest. Its sea story is restored; its first floor has a most
   interesting arcade of the early thirteenth century third order
   windows; its upper windows are the finest fourth and fifth orders of
   early fourteenth century; the group of fourth orders in the centre
   being brought into some resemblance to the late Gothic traceries by
   the subsequent introduction of the quatrefoils above them.

 SALUTE, CHURCH OF STA. MARIA DELLA, on the Grand Canal, II. 378. One
   of the earliest buildings of the Grotesque Renaissance, rendered
   impressive by its position, size, and general proportions. These
   latter are exceedingly good; the grace of the whole building being
   chiefly dependent on the inequality of size in its cupolas, and pretty
   grouping of the two campaniles behind them. It is to be generally
   observed that the proportions of buildings have nothing whatever to
   do with the style or general merits of their architecture. An
   architect trained in the worst schools, and utterly devoid of all
   meaning or purpose in his work, may yet have such a natural gift of
   massing and grouping as will render all his structures effective when
   seen from a distance: such a gift is very general with the late
   Italian builders, so that many of the most contemptible edifices in
   the country have good stage effect so long as we do not approach them.
   The Church of the Salute is farther assisted by the beautiful flight
   of steps in front of it down to the canal; and its façade is rich and
   beautiful of its kind, and was chosen by Turner for the principal
   object in his well-known view of the Grand Canal. The principal faults
   of the building are the meagre windows in the sides of the cupola, and
   the ridiculous disguise of the buttresses under the form of colossal
   scrolls; the buttresses themselves being originally a hypocrisy, for
   the cupola is stated by Lazari to be of timber, and therefore needs
   none. The sacristy contains several precious pictures: the three on
   its roof by Titian, much vaunted, are indeed as feeble as they are
   monstrous; but the small Titian, "St. Mark, with Sts. Cosmo and
   Damian," was, when I first saw it, to my judgment, by far the first
   work of Titian's in Venice. It has since been restored by the Academy,
   and it seemed to me entirely destroyed, but I had not time to examine
   it carefully.

   At the end of the larger sacristy is the lunette which once decorated
   the tomb of the Doge Francesco Dandolo (see above, page 74); and, at
   the side of it, one of the most highly finished Tintorets in Venice,
   namely:

   _The Marriage in Cana._ An immense picture, some twenty-five feet long
   by fifteen high, and said by Lazari to be one of the few which
   Tintoret signed with his name. I am not surprised at his having done
   so in this case. Evidently the work has been a favorite with him, and
   he has taken as much pains as it was ever necessary for his colossal
   strength to take with anything. The subject is not one which admits of
   much singularity or energy in composition. It was always a favorite
   one with Veronese, because it gave dramatic interest to figures in gay
   costumes and of cheerful countenances; but one is surprised to find
   Tintoret, whose tone of mind was always grave, and who did not like to
   make a picture out of brocades and diadems, throwing his whole
   strength into the conception of a marriage feast; but so it is, and
   there are assuredly no female heads in any of his pictures in Venice
   elaborated so far as those which here form the central light. Neither
   is it often that the works of this mighty master conform themselves to
   any of the rules acted upon by ordinary painters; but in this instance
   the popular laws have been observed, and an academy student would be
   delighted to see with what severity the principal light is arranged in
   a central mass, which is divided and made more brilliant by a vigorous
   piece of shadow thrust into the midst of it, and which dies away in
   lesser fragments and sparkling towards the extremities of the picture.
   This mass of light is as interesting by its composition as by its
   intensity. The cicerone who escorts the stranger round the sacristy in
   the course of five minutes, and allows him some forty seconds for the
   contemplation of a picture which the study of six months would not
   entirely fathom, directs his attention very carefully to the "bell'
   effetto di prospettivo," the whole merit of the picture being, in the
   eyes of the intelligent public, that there is a long table in it, one
   end of which looks farther off than the other; but there is more in
   the "bell' effetto di prospettivo" than the observance of the common
   laws of optics. The table is set in a spacious chamber, of which the
   windows at the end let in the light from the horizon, and those in the
   side wall the intense blue of an Eastern sky. The spectator looks all
   along the table, at the farther end of which are seated Christ and the
   Madonna, the marriage guests on each side of it,--on one side men, on
   the other women; the men are set with their backs to the light, which
   passing over their heads and glancing slightly on the tablecloth,
   falls in full length along the line of young Venetian women, who thus
   fill the whole centre of the picture with one broad sunbeam, made up
   of fair faces and golden hair. Close to the spectator a woman has
   risen in amazement, and stretches across the table to show the wine in
   her cup to those opposite; her dark red dress intercepts and enhances
   the mass of gathered light. It is rather curious, considering the
   subject of the picture, that one cannot distinguish either the bride
   or the bridegroom; but the fourth figure from the Madonna in the line
   of women, who wears a white head-dress of lace and rich chains of
   pearls in her hair, may well be accepted for the former, and I think
   that between her and the woman on the Madonna's left hand the unity of
   the line of women is intercepted by a male figure; be this as it may,
   this fourth female face is the most beautiful, as far as I recollect,
   that occurs in the works of the painter, with the exception only of
   the Madonna in the "Flight into Egypt." It is an ideal which occurs
   indeed elsewhere in many of his works, a face at once dark and
   delicate, the Italian cast of feature moulded with the softness and
   childishness of English beauty some half a century ago; but I have
   never seen the ideal so completely worked out by the master. The face
   may best be described as one of the purest and softest of Stothard's
   conceptions, executed with all the strength of Tintoret. The other
   women are all made inferior to this one, but there are beautiful
   profiles and bendings of breasts and necks along the whole line. The
   men are all subordinate, though there are interesting portraits among
   them; perhaps the only fault of the picture being that the faces are a
   little too conspicuous, seen like balls of light among the crowd of
   minor figures which fill the background of the picture. The tone of
   the whole is sober and majestic in the highest degree; the dresses are
   all broad masses of color, and the only parts of the picture which lay
   claim to the expression of wealth or splendor are the head-dresses of
   the women. In this respect the conception of the scene differs widely
   from that of Veronese, and approaches more nearly to the probable
   truth. Still the marriage is not an unimportant one; an immense crowd,
   filling the background, forming superbly rich mosaic of color against
   the distant sky. Taken as a whole, the picture is perhaps the most
   perfect example which human art has produced of the utmost possible
   force and sharpness of shadow united with richness of local color. In
   all the other works of Tintoret, and much more of other colorists,
   either the light and shade or the local color is predominant; in the
   one case the picture has a tendency to look as if painted by
   candle-light, in the other it becomes daringly conventional, and
   approaches the conditions of glass-painting. This picture unites
   color as rich as Titian's with light and shade as forcible as
   Rembrandt's, and far more decisive.

   There are one or two other interesting pictures of the early Venetian
   schools in this sacristy, and several important tombs in the adjoining
   cloister; among which that of Francesco Dandolo, transported here from
   the Church of the Frari, deserves especial attention. See above, p.
   74.

 SALVATORE, CHURCH OF ST. Base Renaissance, occupying the place of the
   ancient church, under the porch of which the Pope Alexander III. is
   said to have passed the night. M. Lazari states it to have been richly
   decorated with mosaics; now all is gone.

   In the interior of the church are some of the best examples of
   Renaissance sculptural monuments in Venice. (See above, Chap. II. §
   LXXX.) It is said to possess an important pala of silver, of the
   thirteenth century, one of the objects in Venice which I much regret
   having forgotten to examine; besides two Titians, a Bonifazio, and a
   John Bellini. The latter ("The Supper at Emmaus") must, I think, have
   been entirely repainted: it is not only unworthy of the master, but
   unlike him; as far, at least, as I could see from below, for it is
   hung high.

 SANUDO PALAZZO. At the Miracoli. A noble Gothic palace of the fourteenth
   century, with Byzantine fragments and cornices built into its walls,
   especially round the interior court, in which the staircase is very
   noble. Its door, opening on the quay, is the only one in Venice
   entirely uninjured; retaining its wooden valve richly sculptured, its
   wicket for examination of the stranger demanding admittance, and its
   quaint knocker in the form of a fish.

 SCALZI, CHURCH OF THE. It possesses a fine John Bellini, and is renowned
   through Venice for its precious marbles. I omitted to notice above, in
   speaking of the buildings of the Grotesque Renaissance, that many of
   them are remarkable for a kind of dishonesty, even in the use of
   _true_ marbles, resulting not from motives of economy, but from mere
   love of juggling and falsehood for their own sake. I hardly know which
   condition of mind is meanest, that which has pride in plaster made to
   look like marble, or that which takes delight in marble made to look
   like silk. Several of the later churches in Venice, more especially
   those of the Jesuiti, of San Clemente, and this of the Scalzi, rest
   their chief claims to admiration on their having curtains and cushions
   cut out of rock. The most ridiculous example is in San Clemente, and
   the most curious and costly are in the Scalzi; which latter church is
   a perfect type of the vulgar abuse of marble in every possible way, by
   men who had no eye for color, and no understanding of any merit in a
   work of art but that which arises from costliness of material, and
   such powers of imitation as are devoted in England to the manufacture
   of peaches and eggs out of Derbyshire spar.

 SEBASTIAN, CHURCH OF ST. The tomb, and of old the monument, of Paul
   Veronese. It is full of his noblest pictures, or of what once were
   such; but they seemed to me for the most part destroyed by repainting.
   I had not time to examine them justly, but I would especially direct
   the traveller's attention to the small Madonna over the second altar
   on the right of the nave, still a perfect and priceless treasure.

 SERVI, CHURCH OF THE. Only two of its gates and some ruined walls are
   left, in one of the foulest districts of the city. It was one of the
   most interesting monuments of the early fourteenth century Gothic; and
   there is much beauty in the fragments yet remaining. How long they may
   stand I know not, the whole building having been offered me for sale,
   ground and all, or stone by stone, as I chose, by its present
   proprietor, when I was last in Venice. More real good might at present
   be effected by any wealthy person who would devote his resources to
   the preservation of such monuments wherever they exist, by freehold
   purchase of the entire ruin, and afterwards by taking proper charge of
   it, and forming a garden round it, than by any other mode of
   protecting or encouraging art. There is no school, no lecturer, like a
   ruin of the early ages.

 SEVERO, FONDAMENTA SAN, palace at, II. 264.

 SILVESTRO, CHURCH OF ST. Of no importance in itself, but it contains
   two very interesting pictures: the first, a "St. Thomas of Canterbury
   with the Baptist and St. Francis," by Girolamo Santa Croce, a superb
   example of the Venetian religious school; the second by Tintoret,
   namely:

   _The Baptism of Christ._ (Over the first altar on the right of the
   nave.) An upright picture, some ten feet wide by fifteen high; the top
   of it is arched, representing the Father supported by angels. It
   requires little knowledge of Tintoret to see that these figures are
   not by his hand. By returning to the opposite side of the nave, the
   join in the canvas may be plainly seen, the upper part of the picture
   having been entirely added on: whether it had this upper part before
   it was repainted, or whether originally square, cannot now be told,
   but I believe it had an upper part which has been destroyed. I am not
   sure if even the dove and the two angels which are at the top of the
   older part of the picture are quite genuine. The rest of it is
   magnificent, though both the figures of the Saviour and the Baptist
   show some concession on the part of the painter to the imperative
   requirement of his age, that nothing should be done except in an
   attitude; neither are there any of his usual fantastic imaginations.
   There is simply the Christ in the water and the St. John on the shore,
   without attendants, disciples, or witnesses of any kind; but the power
   of the light and shade, and the splendor of the landscape, which on
   the whole is well preserved, render it a most interesting example. The
   Jordan is represented as a mountain brook, receiving a tributary
   stream in a cascade from the rocks, in which St. John stands: there is
   a rounded stone in the centre of the current; and the parting of the
   water at this, as well as its rippling among the roots of some dark
   trees on the left, are among the most accurate remembrances of nature
   to be found in any of the works of the great masters. I hardly know
   whether most to wonder at the power of the man who thus broke through
   the neglect of nature which was universal at his time; or at the
   evidences, visible throughout the whole of the conception, that he was
   still content to paint from slight memories of what he had seen in
   hill countries, instead of following out to its full depth the
   fountain which he had opened. There is not a stream among the hills of
   Priuli which in any quarter of a mile of its course would not have
   suggested to him finer forms of cascade than those which he has idly
   painted at Venice.

 SIMEONE, PROFETA, CHURCH OF ST. Very important, though small, possessing
   the precious statue of St. Simeon, above noticed, II. 309. The rare
   early Gothic capitals of the nave are only interesting to the
   architect; but in the little passage by the side of the church,
   leading out of the Campo, there is a curious Gothic monument built
   into the wall, very beautiful in the placing of the angels in the
   spandrils, and rich in the vine-leaf moulding above.

 SIMEONE, PICCOLO, CHURCH OF ST. One of the ugliest churches in Venice or
   elsewhere. Its black dome, like an unusual species of gasometer, is
   the admiration of modern Italian architects.

 SOSPIRI, PONTE DE'. The well known "Bridge of Sighs," a work of no
   merit, and of a late period (see Vol. II. p. 304), owing the interest
   it possesses chiefly to its pretty name, and to the ignorant
   sentimentalism of Byron.

 SPIRITO SANTO, CHURCH OF THE. Of no importance.

 STEFANO, CHURCH OF ST. An interesting building of central Gothic, the
   best ecclesiastical example of it in Venice. The west entrance is much
   later than any of the rest, and is of the richest Renaissance Gothic,
   a little anterior to the Porta della Carta, and first-rate of its
   kind. The manner of the introduction of the figure of the angel at the
   top of the arch is full of beauty. Note the extravagant crockets and
   cusp finials as signs of decline.

 STEFANO, CHURCH OF ST., at Murano (pugnacity of its abbot), II. 33. The
   church no longer exists.

 STROPE, CAMPIELLO DELLA, house in, II. 266.

    T

 TANA, windows at the, II. 260.

 TIEPOLO, PALAZZO, on the Grand Canal. Of no importance.

 TOLENTINI, CHURCH OF THE. One of the basest and coldest works of the
   late Renaissance. It is said to contain two Bonifazios.

 TOMA, CHURCH OF ST. Of no importance.

 TOMA, PONTE SAN. There is an interesting ancient doorway opening on the
   canal close to this bridge, probably of the twelfth century, and a
   good early Gothic door, opening upon the bridge itself.

 TORCELLO, general aspect of, II. 12; Santa Fosca at, I. 117, II. 13;
   duomo, II. 14; mosaics of, II. 196; measures of, II. 378; date of, II.
   380.

 TREVISAN, PALAZZO, I. 369, III. 212.

 TRON, PALAZZO. Of no importance.

 TROVASO, CHURCH OF ST. Itself of no importance, but containing two
   pictures by Tintoret, namely:

   1. _The Temptation of St. Anthony._ (Altar piece in the chapel on the
   left of the choir.) A small and very carefully finished picture, but
   marvellously temperate and quiet in treatment, especially considering
   the subject, which one would have imagined likely to inspire the
   painter with one of his most fantastic visions. As if on purpose to
   disappoint us, both the effect, and the conception of the figures, are
   perfectly quiet, and appear the result much more of careful study than
   of vigorous imagination. The effect is one of plain daylight; there
   are a few clouds drifting in the distance, but with no wildness in
   them, nor is there any energy or heat in the flames which mantle about
   the waist of one of the figures. But for the noble workmanship, we
   might almost fancy it the production of a modern academy; yet as we
   begin to read the picture, the painter's mind becomes felt. St.
   Anthony is surrounded by four figures, one of which only has the form
   of a demon, and he is in the background, engaged in no more terrific
   act of violence toward St. Anthony, than endeavoring to pull off his
   mantle; he has, however, a scourge over his shoulder, but this is
   probably intended for St. Anthony's weapon of self-discipline, which
   the fiend, with a very Protestant turn of mind, is carrying off. A
   broken staff, with a bell hanging to it, at the saint's feet, also
   expresses his interrupted devotion. The three other figures beside him
   are bent on more cunning mischief: the woman on the left is one of
   Tintoret's best portraits of a young and bright-eyed Venetian beauty.
   It is curious that he has given so attractive a countenance to a type
   apparently of the temptation to violate the power of poverty, for this
   woman places one hand in a vase full of coins, and shakes golden
   chains with the other. On the opposite side of the saint, another
   woman, admirably painted, but of a far less attractive countenance, is
   a type of the lusts of the flesh, yet there is nothing gross or
   immodest in her dress or gesture. She appears to have been baffled,
   and for the present to have given up addressing the saint: she lays
   one hand upon her breast, and might be taken for a very respectable
   person, but that there are flames playing about her loins. A recumbent
   figure on the ground is of less intelligible character, but may
   perhaps be meant for Indolence; at all events, he has torn the saint's
   book to pieces. I forgot to note, that under the figure representing
   Avarice, there is a creature like a pig; whether actual pig or not is
   unascertainable, for the church is dark, the little light that comes
   on the picture falls on it the wrong way, and one third of the lower
   part of it is hidden by a white case, containing a modern daub, lately
   painted by way of an altar piece; the meaning, as well as the merit,
   of the grand old picture being now far beyond the comprehension both
   of priests and people.

   2. _The Last Supper._ (On the left-hand side of the Chapel of the
   Sacrament.) A picture which has been through the hands of the Academy,
   and is therefore now hardly worth notice. Its conception seems always
   to have been vulgar, and far below Tintoret's usual standard; there is
   singular baseness in the circumstance, that one of the near Apostles,
   while all the others are, as usual, intent upon Christ's words, "One
   of you shall betray me," is going to help himself to wine out of a
   bottle which stands behind him. In so doing he stoops towards the
   table, the flask being on the floor. If intended for the action of
   Judas at this moment, there is the painter's usual originality in the
   thought; but it seems to me rather done to obtain variation of
   posture, in bringing the red dress into strong contrast with the
   tablecloth. The color has once been fine, and there are fragments of
   good painting still left; but the light does not permit these to be
   seen, and there is too much perfect work of the master's in Venice, to
   permit us to spend time on retouched remnants. The picture is only
   worth mentioning, because it is ignorantly and ridiculously referred
   to by Kugler as characteristic of Tintoret.

    V

 VITALI, CHURCH OF ST. Said to contain a picture by Vittor Carpaccio,
   over the high altar: otherwise of no importance.

 VOLTO SANTO, CHURCH OF THE. An interesting but desecrated ruin of the
   fourteenth century; fine in style. Its roof retains some fresco
   coloring, but, as far as I recollect, of later date than the
   architecture.

    Z

 ZACCARIA, CHURCH OF ST. Early Renaissance, and fine of its kind; a
   Gothic chapel attached to it is of great beauty. It contains the best
   John Bellini in Venice, after that of San G. Grisostomo, "The Virgin,
   with Four Saints;" and is said to contain another John Bellini and a
   Tintoret, neither of which I have seen.

 ZITELLE, CHURCH OF THE. Of no importance.

 ZOBENIGO, CHURCH OF SANTA MARIA, III. 124. It contains one valuable
   Tintoret, namely:

   _Christ with Sta. Justina and St. Augustin._ (Over the third altar on
   the south side of the nave.) A picture of small size, and upright,
   about ten feet by eight. Christ appears to be descending out of the
   clouds between the two saints, who are both kneeling on the sea shore.
   It is a Venetian sea, breaking on a flat beach, like the Lido, with a
   scarlet galley in the middle distance, of which the chief use is to
   unite the two figures by a point of color. Both the saints are
   respectable Venetians of the lower class, in homely dresses and with
   homely faces. The whole picture is quietly painted, and somewhat
   slightly; free from all extravagance, and displaying little power
   except in the general truth or harmony of colors so easily laid on. It
   is better preserved than usual, and worth dwelling upon as an instance
   of the style of the master when _at rest_.

FOOTNOTES:

  [71]  "Am I in Italy? Is this the Mincius?
         Are those the distant turrets of Verona?
         And shall I sup where Juliet at the Masque
         Saw her loved Montague, and now sleeps by him?
         Such questions hourly do I ask myself;
         And not a stone in a crossway inscribed
         'To Mantua,' 'To Ferrara,' but excites
         Surprise, and doubt, and self-congratulation."

    Alas, after a few short months, spent even in the scenes dearest to
    history, we can feel thus no more.

  [72] I have always called this church, in the text, simply "St. John
    and Paul," not Sts. John and Paul, just as the Venetians say San
    Giovanni e Paolo, and not Santi G., &c.

CORRECTIONS MADE TO THE ORIGINAL TEXT.

Page 69: 'Italian sarcophagi are kept massive, smoth and gloomy' smoth
            corrected to smooth.

Page 74: 'fallen back peacefully uppon his pillow' uppon corrected to
            upon.

Page 100: 'men's modes of life, and tones of throught' throught changed
             to thought.

Page 121: 'breathed upon her beaaty, until it melted away' beaaty
             corrected to beauty.

Page 157: 'morbid action by terror, accompained by the belief'
             accompained changed to accompanied.

Page 207: 'finds him by a fountaiu side' fountaiu corrected to fountain.

Page 222: 'Pietro di Castello, for the feast of St. Mary' Mary changed
             to Mark.

Page 233: Number 2. misplaced. Moved to 'a. Lower arcade, Fondaco de'
            Turchi.'

Page 233: Missing 4. added before 'a. Fondaco de' Turchi, central shaft,
            upper arcade.'

Page 237: 'fourth order windows in Campo Sta. Ma Mater Domini' Ma
             changed to M^a.

Page 293: 'the usual inportant purposes of the modern Italians.'
             inportant changed to important.

Page 294: 'not the slightest touch os it but is delicious.' os corrected
             to of.

Page 318: 'examine the two large tintorets' tintorets changed to
             Tintorets.

Page 319: 'Mlaipiero, Palazzo, on the Campo St. M. Formosa.' Mlaipiero
             corrected to Malipiero.

Page 358: 'drift of its clouds, and originalty and complication.'
             originalty corrected to originality.


ensue from mistaken identity, prevented the U-boats from operating
in pairs. The chief danger encountered by Allied submarines was from
friendly surface vessels. On one occasion an American submarine,
the AL-10, approaching a destroyer of the same service, was forced
to dive and was then given a bombardment of depth charges. This
bent plates, extinguished lights, and brought the submarine again
to the surface, where fortunately she was identified in the nick
of time. The two commanders had been roommates at Annapolis.

[Footnote 1: THE VICTORY AT SEA, _World's Work_, May, 1920, p. 56.]

_Work of the United States Navy_

Having borne the brunt of the naval war for three years, the British
navy welcomed the reënforcements which the United States was able
to contribute, and shared to the utmost the experience already
gained. On May 3, 1917, the first squadron of 6 American destroyers
arrived at Queenstown, and was increased to 50 operating in European
waters in November, and 70 at the time of the armistice. A flotilla
of yachts, ill adapted as they were for such service, did hazardous
duty as escorts in the Bay of Biscay; and a score of submarines
crossed the Atlantic during the winter to operate off Ireland and
in the Azores. Five dreadnoughts under Admiral Rodman from the U.
S. Atlantic fleet became a part of the Grand Fleet at Scapa Flow.

Probably the most notable work of the American navy was in projects
where American manufacturing resources and experience in large-scale
undertakings could be brought to bear. In four months, from July
to November, 1917, the United States Navy constructed an oil pipe
line from the west to the east coast of Scotland, thus eliminating
the long and dangerous northern circuit. Five 14-inch naval guns,
on railway mountings, with a complete train of 16 cars for each gun,
were equipped by the navy, manned entirely with naval personnel, and
were in action in France from August, 1918, until the armistice,
firing a total of 782 rounds on the German lines of communication,
at ranges up to 30 miles.

The American proposal of a mine barrage across the entrance to the
North Sea from Scotland to Norway at first met with slight approval
abroad, so unprecedented was the problem of laying a mine-field 230
miles in length, from 15 to 30 miles in width, and extending at
least 240 feet downward in waters the total depth of which was 400
or more feet. Even the mine barrier at the Straits of Dover had
proved ineffective owing to heavy tides, currents, and bad bottom
conditions, until it was strengthened by Admiral Keyes in 1918. By
employing a large type of mine perfected by the United States Naval
Bureau of Ordnance, it was found possible, however, to reduce by
one-third the number of mines and the amount of wire needed for the
North Sea Barrage. The task was therefore undertaken, and completed
in the summer of 1918. Out of a total of 70,000 mines, 56,570, or
about 80 per cent, were planted by American vessels. The barrage
when completed gave an enemy submarine about one chance in ten of
getting through. According to reliable records, it accomplished
the destruction or serious injury of 17 German submarines, and by
its deterrent effect, must have practically closed the northern
exit to both under-water and surface craft.

[Illustration: OSTEND-ZEEBRUGGE AREA]

_The Attack on Zeebrugge and Ostend_

At the Channel exit of the North Sea, a vigorous blow at the German
submarine nests on the Belgian coast was finally struck on April
22-23, 1918, by the Dover Force under Vice Admiral Roger Keyes, in
one of the most brilliant naval operations of the war. Of the two
Belgian ports, Ostend and Zeebrugge, the latter was much more useful
to the Germans because better protected, less exposed to batteries
on the land front, and connected by a deeper canal with the main
base 8 miles distant at Bruges. It was planned, however, to attack
both ports, with the specific purpose of sinking 5 obsolete cruisers
laden with concrete across the entrances to the canals. The operation
required extensive reconstruction work on the vessels employed, a
thorough course of training for personnel, suitable conditions of
atmosphere, wind, and tide, and execution of complicated movements
in accordance with a time schedule worked out to the minute.

At Ostend the attack failed owing to a sudden shift of wind which
blew the smoke screen laid by motor boats back upon the two block
ships, and so confused their approach that they were stranded and
blown up west of the entrance.

At Zeebrugge, two of the three block ships, the _Iphigenia_ and
the _Intrepid_, got past the heavy guns on the mole, through the
protective nets, and into the canal, where they were sunk athwart
the channel by the explosion of mines laid all along their keels.
To facilitate their entrance, the cruiser _Vindictive_ (Commander
Alfred Carpenter), fitted with a false deck and 18 brows or gangways
for landing forces, had been brought up 25 minutes earlier--to
be exact, at a minute past midnight--along the outer side of the
high mole or breakwater enclosing the harbor. Here, in spite of a
heavy swell and tide, she was held in position by the ex-ferryboat
_Daffodill_, while some 300 or 400 bluejackets and marines swarmed
ashore under a violent fire from batteries and machine guns and
did considerable injury to the works on the mole. Fifteen minutes
later, an old British submarine was run into a viaduct connecting
the mole with the shore and there blown up, breaking a big gap in
the viaduct. Strange to say, the _Vindictive_ and her auxiliaries,
after lying more than an hour in this dangerous position, succeeded
in taking aboard all survivors from the landing party and getting
safely away. Motor launches also rescued the crews of the blockships
and the men--all of them wounded--from the submarine. One British
destroyer and two motor boats were sunk, and the casualties were
176 killed, 412 wounded, and 49 missing. For a considerable period
thereafter, all the larger German torpedo craft remained cooped
up at Bruges, and the Zeebrugge blockships still obstructed the
channel at the end of the war.

[Illustration: ZEEBRUGGE HARBOR WITH GERMAN DEFENSES AND BRITISH
BLOCKSHIPS]

_The Convoy System_

Of all the anti-submarine measures employed, prior to the North
Sea Barrage and the Zeebrugge attack, the adoption of the convoy
system was undoubtedly the most effective in checking the loss
of tonnage at the height of the submarine campaign. Familiar as
a means of commerce protection in previous naval wars, the late
adoption of the convoy system in the World War occasioned very
general surprise. It was felt by naval authorities, however, that
great delay would be incurred in assembling vessels, and in restricting
the speed of all ships of a convoy to that of the slowest unit.
Merchant captains believed themselves unequal to the task of keeping
station at night in close order, with all lights out and frequent
changes of course, and they thought that the resultant injuries
would be almost as great as from submarines. Furthermore, so long
as a large number of neutral vessels were at sea, it appeared a
very doubtful expedient to segregate merchant vessels of belligerent
nationality and thus distinguish them as legitimate prey.

[Illustration: BRITISH, ALLIED AND NEUTRAL MERCHANT SHIPS DESTROYED
BY GERMAN RAIDERS, SUBMARINES AND MINES

(Figures in thousands of gross tons)

The accompanying chart shows the merchant shipping captured or
destroyed by Germany in the course of the war. After 1914 the losses
were inflicted almost entirely by submarines, either by mine laying
or by torpedoes. According to a British Admiralty statement of
Dec. 5, 1919, the total loss during the war was 14,820,000 gross
tons, of which 8,918,000 was British, and 5,918,000 was Allied
or neutral. The United States lost 354,450 tons. During the same
period the world's ship construction amounted to 10,850,000 tons,
and enemy shipping captured and eventually put into Allied service
totalled 2,393,000 tons, so that the net loss at the close of the
war was about 1,600,000 tons.]

But in April, 1917, the situation was indeed desperate. The losses
had become so heavy that of every 100 ships leaving England it was
estimated that 25 never returned.[1] The American commander in
European waters, Admiral Sims, reports Admiral Jellicoe as saying
at this time, "They will win unless we can stop these losses--and
stop them soon."[2] Definitely adopted in May following, the convoy
system was in general operation before the end of the summer, with
a notable decline of sinkings in both the Mediterranean and the
Atlantic. The following table, based on figures from the Naval
Annual for 1919, indicates the number of vessels sunk for each
submarine destroyed. It shows the decreased effectiveness of submarine
operations after September 1, 1917, which is taken as the date
when the convoy system had come into full use, and brings out the
crescendo of losses in 1917.

[Footnote 1: Brassey's NAVAL ANNUAL, 1919.]

[Footnote 2: _World's Work_, Sept., 1919.]

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
              |Vessels sunk|           |
              |     per    | Total No. |
              |  submarine |   sunk    |
              |  destroyed |           |
--------------|------------|-----------|---------------------------------
Aug. 1, 1914- |    10.4    |           |69 ships sunk, almost entirely by
Feb., 1915    |            |           |  surface cruisers.
              |            |           |
Feb. 1, 1915- |     48     |    544    |Half by torpedo; 148 without
Feb. 1, 1917  |            |(two years)| warning; 3,066 lives lost.
              |            |           |
Feb. 1, 1917- |     67     |    736    |572 by torpedo; 595 (69%) with
Sept. 1, 1917 |            |(7 months) | out warning.
              |            |           |
Sept. 1, 1917-|    20.2    |    548    |448 (82%) without warning.
April 1, 1918 |            |(7 months) |
              |            |           |
April 1, 1918-|     12     |    252    |239 (91%) without warning.
Nov. 1, 1918  |            |(7 months) |
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

From July 26, 1917, to October 26, 1918, 90,000 vessels were convoyed,
with a total loss from the convoys of 436, or less than half of one
per cent. The convoy system forced submarines to expose themselves
to the attacks of destroyer escorts, or else to work close in shore
to set upon vessels after the dispersion of the convoy. But when
working close to the coast they were exposed to Allied patrols
and submarines.

Testifying before a German investigation committee, Captain Bartenbach,
of the V-boat section of the German Admiralty, gave the chief perils
encountered by his boats as follows: (1) mines, (2) Allied submarines,
which "destroyed a whole series of our boats," (3) aircraft of all
types, (4) armed merchantmen, (5) hydrophones and listening devices.
Admiral Capelle in his testimony referred to the weakening of their
efforts due to "indifferent material and second-rate crews."

_Transport Work_

Dependent in large measure upon the anti-submarine campaign for
its safety and success, yet in itself an immense achievement, the
transport of over 2,000,000 American troops to France must be regarded
as one of the major naval operations of the war. Of these forces
48% were carried in British, and 43% in American transports. About
83% of the convoy work was under the protection of American naval
vessels.

The transportation work of the British navy, covering a longer
period, was, of course, on a far greater scale. Speaking in Parliament
on October 29, 1917, Premier Lloyd George indicated the extent of
this service as follows: "Since the beginning of the war the navy
has insured the safe transportation to the British and Allied armies
of 13,000,000 men, 12,000,000 horses, 25,000,000 tons of explosives
and supplies, and 51,000,000 tons of coal and oil. The loss of
men out of the whole 13,000,000 was 3500, of which only 2700 were
lost through the action of the enemy. Altogether 130,000,000 tons
have been transported by British ships." These figures, covering but
three years of the war, are of significance chiefly as indicating
the immense transportation problems of the British and Allied navies
and the use made of sea communications.

These three main Allied naval operations--the blockade of Germany,
the anti-submarine campaign, and the transportation of American
troops to France--were unquestionably decisive factors in the war.
Failure in any one of them would have meant victory for Germany. The
peace of Europe, it is true, could be achieved only by overcoming
Germany's military power on land. A breakdown there, with German
domination of the Continent, would have created a situation which
it is difficult to envisage, and which very probably would have
meant a peace of compromise and humiliation for England and America.
It is obvious, however, that, but for the blockade, Germany could
have prolonged the war; but for American reënforcements, France
would have been overrun; but for the conquest of the submarine,
Great Britain would have been forced to surrender.

In the spring of 1918 Germany massed her troops on the western
front and began her final effort to break the Allied lines and
force a decision. With supreme command for the first time completely
centralized under Marshal Foch, and with the support of American
armies, the Allies were able to hold up the enemy drives, and on
July 18 begin the forward movement which pushed the Germans back
upon their frontiers. Yet when the armistice was signed on November
11, the German armies still maintained cohesion, with an unbroken
line on foreign soil. Surrender was made inevitable by internal
breakdown and revolution, the first open manifestations of which
appeared among the sailors of the idle High Seas Fleet at Kiel.

On November 21, 1918, this fleet, designed as the great instrument
for conquest of world empire, and in its prime perhaps as efficient
a war force as was ever set afloat, steamed silently through two
long lines of British and Allied battleships assembled off the
Firth of Forth, and the German flags at the mainmasts went down
at sunset for the last time.

REFERENCES

BRASSEY'S NAVAL ANNUAL, 1919.
THE VICTORY AT SEA, Vice-Admiral W. S. Sims, U. S. N., 1920.
ANNUAL REPORT of the U. S Secretary of the Navy, 1918
THE DOVER PATROL, 1915-1917, Admiral Sir Reginald Bacon, R. N.,
  1919.
ZEEBRUGGE AND OSTEND DISPATCHES, ed. by C. Sanford Terry, 1919.
LAYING THE NORTH SEA MINE BARRAGE, Captain R. R. Belknap,
  U. S. N., U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, Jan.-Feb., 1920.
AMERICAN SUBMARINE OPERATIONS IN THE WORLD WAR, by Prof.
  C. S. Alden, U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings. June-July, 1920.
For more popular treatment see also SUBMARINE AND ANTI-SUBMARINE,
  Sir Henry Newbolt, 1919; THE FIGHTING FLEETS, Ralph
  D. Payne, 1918; THE U-BOAT HUNTERS, James B. Connolly, 1918;
  SEA WARFARE, Rudyard Kipling, 1917; etc.

CHAPTER XIX

CONCLUSION

The brief survey of sea power in the preceding chapters has shown
that the ocean has been the highway for the march of civilization and
empire. Crete in its day became a great island power and distributed
throughout the Mediterranean the wealth and the arts of its own
culture and that of Egypt. In turn, Phnicia held sway on the inland
sea, and though creating little, she seized upon and developed the
material and intellectual resources of her neighbors, and carried
them not only to the corners of the Mediterranean, but far out
on the unknown sea. Later when Phnicia was subject to Persia,
Athens by her triremes saved the growing civilization of Greece,
and during a brief period of glory planted the seeds of Greek,
as opposed to Asiatic culture, on the islands and coasts of the
Ægean. After Athens, Carthage inherited the trident, and in turn
fell before the energy of a land power, Rome. And as the Roman
Empire grew to include practically all of the known world, every
waterway, river and ocean, served to spread Roman law, engineering,
and ideals of practical efficiency, at the same time bringing back
to the heart of the Empire not only the products of the colonies,
but such impalpable treasures as the art, literature, and philosophy
of Greece. This was the story of the sea in antiquity.

After the dissolution of the Roman empire, as Christian peoples
were struggling in blood and darkness, a great menace came from
Arabia, the Saracen invasion, which was checked successfully and
repeatedly by the navy of Constantinople. To this, primarily, is
due the preservation of the Christian ideal in the world. Later, the
cities of Italy began to reëstablish sea commerce, which had been
for centuries interrupted by pirates. Venice gained the ascendancy,
and Venetian ships carried the Crusading armies during the centuries
when western peoples went eastward to fight for the Cross and brought
back new ideas they had learned from the Infidels. Then there arose
a new Mohammedan threat, the Turk, determined like the earlier
Saracen to conquer the world for the Crescent. Constantinople,
betrayed by Christian nations, fell, Christian peoples of the Levant
were made subject to the Turk, and thereafter till our day the
Ægean was a Turkish lake. About the same time a new Mohammedan sea
power arose in the Moors of the African coast, and for a century
and more the Mediterranean was a no-man's land between the rival
peoples and the rival religions.

Meanwhile the trade with the East by caravan routes to the Arabian
Gulf had been stopped by the presence of the Turk. To reach the
old markets, therefore, new routes had to be found and there came
the great era of discovery. The new world was only an accidental
discovery in a search for the westward route to Asia. The claims of
Spain to this new region called forth her fleets of trading ships.
But the lure of the West attracted the energies of the English
also, and England and Spain clashed. As Spain became more and more
dependent on her western colonies for income, and yet failed to
establish her ascendancy over the Atlantic routes, she declined
in favor of her enemies, England and Holland. The latter country,
being dependent on the sea for sustenance, early captured a large
part of the world's carrying trade, especially in the Mediterranean
and the East. Her rich profits excited the envy and rivalry of the
English, and in consequence, after three hard-fought naval wars,
the scepter of the sea passed to England. The subsequent wars between
England and France served only to strengthen England's control of
trade routes and extend her colonial possessions; with one notable
exception, when France, denying to her rival the control of the sea
at a critical juncture in the American Revolution, deprived her
of her richest and most extensive colony. It was primarily England
with her navy that broke the power of Napoleon in the subsequent
conflict, and throughout a century of peace the spread of English
speech and institutions has extended to the uttermost parts of
the world. One power in our day challenged Britain's control of
the sea--now even more essential to her security than it was in
the 17th century to that of Holland--and the World War was the
consequence.

In all this story it is interesting to note that insularity in
position is the reverse of insularity in fact. Crete touched the
far shores of the Mediterranean because she was an island and her
people were forced upon the sea. Similarly, Phnicia, driven to
sea by mountains and desert at her back, spread her sails beyond
the Pillars of Hercules. And England, hemmed in by the Atlantic,
has carried her goods and her language to every nook and cranny of
the earth. Thus the ocean has served less to separate than to bring
together. As a common highway it has not only excited quarrels, but
established common interests between nations. Special agreements
governing the suppression of piracy and the slave trade, navigation
regulations and the like, have long since brought nations together in
peace on a common ground. It has also gone far to create international
law for the problems of war. Rules governing blockade, contraband,
and neutral rights have been agreed upon long since. But, as every
war has proved, international law has needed a higher authority to
enforce its rules in the teeth of a powerful belligerent. To remedy
this defect is one of the purposes of a League of Nations.

Such has been the significance of the sea. The nations who have
used it have made history and have laid the rest of the world under
their dominion intellectually, commercially, and politically. Indeed,
the story of the sea is the history of civilization.

At the conclusion of this survey, it is appropriate to pause and
summarize what is meant by the term "sea power." It is a catch
phrase, made famous by Mahan and glibly used ever since. What does
sea power mean? What are its elements?

Obviously it means, in brief, a nation's ability to enforce its will
upon the sea. This means a navy superior to those of its enemies.
But it means also strategic bases equipped for supplying a fleet
for battle or offering refuge in defeat. To these bases there must
run lines of communication guarded from interruption by the enemy.
Imagine, for instance, the Suez or the Panama Canal held by a hostile
force, or a battlefleet cut off from its fuel supply of coal or
oil.

The relation of shipping to sea power is not what it was in earlier
days. Merchantmen are indeed still useful in war for transport
and auxiliary service, but it is no longer true that men in the
merchant service are trained for man-of-war service. The difference
between them has widened as the battleship of to-day differs from
a merchantman of to-day. Nor can a merchantship be transformed
into a cruiser, as in the American navy of a hundred years ago.
The place of shipping in sea power is therefore subsidiary. In
fact, unless a nation can control the sea, the amount of its wealth
dispersed in merchantmen is just so much loss in time of war.

The major element in sea power is the fleet, but possession of
the largest navy is no guarantee of victory or even of control
of the sea. Size is important, but it is an interesting fact that
most of the great victories in naval history have been won by a
smaller fleet over a larger. The effectiveness of a great navy
depends first on its quality, secondly, on how it is handled, and
thirdly, on its power of reaching the enemy's communications.

The quality of a navy is two-fold, material and personal. In material,
the great problem of modern days is to keep abreast of the time. The
danger to a navy lies in conservatism and bureaucratic control. There
is always the chance that a weaker power may defeat the stronger, not
by using the old weapons, but by devising some new weapon that will
render the old ones obsolete. The trouble with the professional man
in any walk of life has always been that he sticks to the traditional
ways. In consequence he lays himself open to the amateur, who,
caring nothing about tradition, beats him with something novel.
The inventions that have revolutionized naval warfare have come
from men outside the naval profession. Thus the Romans, unable to
match the Carthaginians in seamanship, made that seamanship of no
value by their invention of the corvus. Greek fire not only saved
the insignificant fleets of the Eastern Empire, but annihilated the
huge armadas of Saracen and Slav. If the South in our Civil War
had possessed the necessary resources, her ironclad rams would
have made an end of the Union navy and of the war. In our own time
the German submarine came within an ace of winning the war despite
all the Allied dreadnoughts, because its potentialities had not
been realized and no counter measures devised. A navy that drops
behind is lost.

The personal side is a matter of training and morale. The material
part is of no value unless it is operated by skill and by the will
to win. Slackness or inexperience or lack of heart in officers
or men--any of these may bring ruin. Napoleon once spoke of the
Russian army as brave, but as "an army without a soul." A navy
must have a soul. Unfortunately, the tendency in recent years has
been to emphasize the material and the mechanical at the expense of
the intellectual and spiritual. With all the enormous development
of the ships and weapons, it must be remembered that the man is,
and always will be, greater than the machine.

As to handling the navy, first of all the War Staff and the commander
in chief must solve the strategic problem correctly. The fate of
the Spanish Armada in the 16th Century and that of the Russian
navy at the beginning of the 20th are eloquent of the effect of
bad strategy on a powerful fleet. Secondly, the commander in chief
must be possessed of the right fighting doctrine--the spirit of the
offensive. In all ages the naval commander who sought to achieve
his purpose by avoiding battle went to disaster. The true objective
must be, now as always, _the destruction of the enemy's fleet_.

Such are the material and the spiritual essentials of sea power.
The phrase has become so popular that a superior fleet has been
widely accepted as a talisman in war. The idea is that a nation
with sea power must win. But with all the tremendous "influence of
sea power on history," the student must not be misled into thinking
that sea power is invincible. The Athenian navy went to ruin under
the catapults of Syracuse whose navy was insignificant. Carthage, the
sea power, succumbed to a land power, Rome. In modern times France,
with a navy second to England's, fell in ruin before Prussia, which
had practically no navy at all. And in the World War it required
the entry of a new ally, the United States, to save the Entente
from defeat at the hands of land power, despite an overwhelming
superiority on the sea.

The significance of sea power is _communications_. Just so far
as sea control affects lines of communications vital to either
belligerent, so far does it affect the war. To a sea empire like
the British, sea control is essential as a measure of defense.
If an enemy controls the sea the empire will fall apart like a
house of cards, and the British Isles will be speedily starved
into submission. It is another thing, however, to make the navy
a sword as well as a shield. Whenever the British navy could cut
the communications of the enemy, as in the case of the wars with
Spain and Holland, it was terribly effective. When it fought a
nation like Russia in the Crimean War, it hardly touched the sources
of Russian supplies, because these came by the interior land
communications. So also the French navy in 1870 could not touch
a single important line of German communications and its effect
therefore was negligible. If in 1914 Russia, for example, had been
neutral, no Allied naval superiority could have saved France from
destruction by the combined armies of Germany and Austria, just
as the Grand Fleet was powerless to check the conquest or deny
the possession of Belgium. It must be borne in mind that a land
power has the advantages of central position and interior lines, and
the interior lines of to-day are those of rail and motor transport,
offering facilities for a rapid concentration on any front.

Of course, modern life and modern warfare are so complex that few
nations are able to live and wage war entirely on their own resources;
important communications extend across the sea. In this respect
the United States is singularly fortunate. With the exception of
rubber, every essential is produced in our country, and the sea
power that would attempt to strangle the United States by a blockade
on two coasts would find it unprofitable even if it were practicable.
A hostile navy would have to land armies to strike directly at the
manufacturing cities near the seaboard in order to affect our
communications. In brief, sea power is decisive just so far as
it cuts the enemy's communications.

Finally in considering sea power we should note the importance
of coördinating naval policies with national. The character of a
navy and the size of a navy depend on what policy a nation expects
to stand for. It is the business of a navy to stand behind a nation's
will. For Great Britain, circumstances of position have long made
her policy consistent, without regard to change of party. She had
to dominate the sea to insure the safety of the empire. With the
United States, the situation has been different. The nation has
not been conscious of any foreign policy, with the single exception
of the Monroe Doctrine. And even this has changed in character
since it was first enunciated.

At the present day, for example, how far does the United States
purpose to go in the Monroe Doctrine? Shall we attempt to police
the smaller South and Central American nations? Shall we make the
Caribbean an area under our naval control? What is to be our policy
toward Mexico? How far are we willing to go to sustain the Open Door
policy in the Far East? Are we determined to resist the immigration
of Asiatics? Are we bound to hold against conquest our outlying
possessions,--the Philippines, Guam, Hawaiian Islands, and Alaska?
Shall we play a "lone hand" among nations, or join an international
league? Until there is some answer to these questions of foreign
policy, our naval program is based on nothing definite. In short,
the naval policy of a nation should spring from its national policy.

On that national policy must be based not only the types of ships
built and their numbers, but also the number and locale of the
naval bases and the entire strategic plan. In the past there has
been too little mutual understanding between the American navy and
the American people. The navy--the Service, as it is appropriately
called--is the trained servant of the republic. It is only fair to
ask that the republic make clear what it expects that servant to
do. But before a national policy is accepted, it must be thought
out to its logical conclusion by both the popular leaders and naval
advisers. As Mahan has said, "the naval officer must be a statesman
as well as a seaman." Is the policy accepted going to conflict
with that of another nation; if so, are we prepared to accept the
consequences?

The recent history of Germany is a striking example of the effect
of a naval policy on international relations. The closing decade
of the 19th century found Great Britain still following the policy
of "splendid isolation," with France and Russia her traditional
enemies. Her relations with Germany were friendly, as they always
had been. At the close of the century, the Kaiser, inspired by
Mahan's "_Influence of Sea Power on History,_" launched the policy
of a big navy. First, he argued, German commerce was growing with
astonishing rapidity. It was necessary, according to Mahan, to have
a strong navy to protect a great carrying trade. This von Tirpitz[1]
emphasizes, though he never makes clear just what precise danger
threatened the German trading fleets, provided Germany maintained a
policy of friendly relations with England. Secondly, Germany found
herself with no outlet for expansion. The best colonial fields had
already been appropriated by other countries, chiefly England. To
back up German claims to new territory or trading concessions, it
was necessary to have a strong navy. All this was strictly by the
book, and it is characteristic of the German mind that it faithfully
followed the text. "_Unsere Zukunft_," cried the Kaiser, "_liegt
auf dem Wasser!_" But what was implied in this proposal? A great
navy increasing rapidly to the point of rivaling that of England
could be regarded by that country only as a pistol leveled at her
head. England would be at the mercy of any power that could defeat
her navy. And this policy coupled with the demand for "a place in
the sun," threatened the rich colonies that lay under the British
flag. It could not be taken otherwise.

[Footnote 1: MY MEMOIRS, Chap. xv and _passim._]

These implications began to bear fruit after their kind. In the
place of friendliness on the part of the English,--a friendliness
uninterrupted by war, and based on the blood of their royal family
and the comradeship in arms against France in the days of Louis
XIV, Frederick the Great, and Napoleon--there developed a growing
hostility. In vain missions were sent by the British Government
to promote a better understanding, for the Germans declined to
accept either a "naval holiday" or a position of perpetual naval
inferiority. In consequence, England abandoned her policy of isolation,
and came to an understanding with her ancient enemies, Russia and
France. Thus Germany arrayed against herself all the resources of
the British Empire and in this act signed her own death warrant.

A final word as to the future of sea power. The influence of modern
inventions is bound to affect the significance of the sea in the
future. Oceans have practically dwindled away as national barriers.
Wireless and the speed of the modern steamship have reduced the
oceans to ponds. "Splendid isolation" is now impossible. Modern
artillery placed at Calais, for instance, could shell London and
cover the transportation of troops in the teeth of a fleet. Aircraft
cross land and sea with equal ease. The submersible has come to
stay. Indeed, it looks as if the navy of the future will tend first
to the submersible types and later abandon the sea for the air,
and the "illimitable pathways of the sea" will yield to still more
illimitable pathways of the sky. The consequence is bound to be a
closer knitting of the peoples of the world through the conquering
of distance by time.

This bringing together breeds war quite as easily as peace, and
the progress of invention makes wars more frightful. The closely
knit economic structure of Europe did not prevent the greatest
war in history and there is little hope for the idea that wars
can never occur again. The older causes of war lay in pressure
of population, the temptation of better lands, racial hatreds or
ambitions, religious fanaticism, dynastic aims, and imperialism.
Some of these remain. The chief modern source of trouble is trade
rivalry, with which imperialism is closely interwoven and trade
rivalry makes enemies of old friends. There is, therefore, a place
for navies still.

At present there are two great naval powers, Great Britain and
the United States. A race in naval armaments between the two would
be criminal folly, and could lead to only one disastrous end. The
immediate way toward guaranteeing freedom of the seas is a closer
entente between the two English-speaking peoples, whose common
ground extends beyond their speech to institutions and ideals of
justice and liberty. The fine spirit of cöoperation produced by
the World War should be perpetuated in peace for the purpose of
maintaining peace. In his memoirs van Tirpitz mourns the fact that
now "Anglo-Saxondom" controls the world. There is small danger that
where public opinion rules, the two peoples will loot the world
to their own advantage. On the other hand, there is every prospect
that, for the immediate future, sea power in their hands can be made
the most potent influence toward peace, and the preservation of
that inheritance of civilization which has been slowly accumulated
and spread throughout the world by those peoples of every age who
have been the pathfinders on the seas.

INDEX

A.

Abercromby, British general
Aboukir, Hogue, and Cressy, British cruisers, loss of
Aboukir Bay, battle of, _see_ Nile
Actium, campaign of; battle of
Ægospotami, battle of
Agrippa, Roman admiral
Aircraft, in World War
Albuquerque, Portuguese viceroy
Alfred, king of England
Algeciras Convention
Ali Pasha, Turkish admiral
Allemand, French admiral
Almeida, Portuguese leader
Amboyna
Amiens, treaty of
Amsterdam
Anthony, Roman general, at Actium
Antwerp
Arabs, at war with Eastern Empire; as traders; ships of
Arbuthnot, British admiral
Ariabignes, Persian admiral
Aristides
Armada, _see_ Spanish Armada
Armed Neutrality, league of
Armor
Armstrong, Sir William
Athens, _see_ Greece
_Audacious_, British ship
August 10, battle of
Austerlitz battle of
Austria, in Napoleonic Wars; at war with Italy; in Triple Alliance;
  in World War

B.

Bacon, Roger
Bagdad Railway
Bantry Bay, action in; attempted landing in
Barbarigo, Venetian admiral
Barbarossa, Turkish admiral
Barham, First Lord of Admiralty
Bart, Jean, French naval leader
Battle cruiser, _see_ Ships of War
Beachy Head, battle of
Beatty, British admiral, at Heligoland Bight; at Dogger Bank; at Jutland
Berlin Decree
Bismarck
Blake, British admiral
Blockade, in American Civil War; in World War
Boisot, Dutch admiral
Bonaparte, _see_ Napoleon
Bossu, Spanish admiral
Boxer Rebellion
Boyne, battle of
Bragadino, Venetian general
Breda, peace of
Bridport, British admiral
Brill, capture of
Brueys, French admiral
Burney, British admiral
Bushnell, David

C.

Cabot, John
Cadiz, founded; British expeditions to; blockaded by Blake; blockaded
  by Jervis; Allied fleet in
Calder, British admiral; in action with Villeneuve
Camara, Spanish admiral
Camperdown, battle of
Canidius, Roman general
Carden, British admiral
Carpenter, Alfred, British commander
Carthage, founded; at war with Greece; in Punic Wars
Cervantes
Cervera, Spanish admiral; in Santiago campaign
Ceylon
Champlain, battle of Lake
Charlemagne
Charles II of England
Charles V of Spain
Charleston, attack on
Chatham, raided by Dutch
Chauncey, U. S. commodore
China, in ancient times; first ships to; at war with Japan; in disruption
Chios, battle of
Churchill, Winston
Cinque Ports
Cleopatra, queen of Egypt, in Actium campaign
Clerk, John
Collingwood, British admiral; at Trafalgar
Colonna, admiral of Papal States
Colport, British admiral
Columbus; voyages of
Commerce, of Phoenicians; under Roman Empire; with the East; in northern
  Europe; in modern times
Commerce Warfare, in Dutch War of Independence; in Napoleonic Wars;
  in War of 1812; in World War,
Communications, in warfare
Compass, introduction of
Condalmiero, Venetian admiral
Conflans, French admiral
Constantinople, founded; attacked by Arabs; attacked by Russians;
  sacked by Crusaders; captured by Turks; in World War
Continental System
Continuous Voyage, doctrine of
Contraband
Convoy, System in World War
Cook, Captain James
Copenhagen, battle of
Corinthian Gulf, battle of
Cornwallis, British admiral
Coronel, battle of
Corsica
Corunna, Armada sails from; attacked by Drake; Allied fleet in
Corvi
Cradock, British admiral, at Coronel
Crete
Cromwell, Oliver
Custozza, battle of
Cyprus

D.

Da Gama, Vasco
Dardanelles, German squadron enters; campaign of
Darius, king of Persia
De Grasse, French admiral, at Virginia Capes; at Saints' Passage
De Guichen, French admiral
Denmark, in Copenhagen campaign
De Ruyter, Dutch admiral
D'Estaing, French admiral
Destroyer, _see_ Ships of War
Dewa, Japanese admiral
Dewey, U. S. admiral, at Manila
De Witt, Dutch admiral
Diaz, Bartolomeo
Diedrichs, German admiral
Director fire
Dirkzoon, Dutch admiral
Diu, battle of
Dogger Bank, Russian fleet off; action off
Don Juan of Austria, at Lepanto
Doria, Andrea, Genoese admiral
Doria, Gian Andrea, Genoese admiral
Dragut, Turkish commander
Drake, Sir Francis, British admiral, voyages of; in Armada campaign;
  last years of
Dreadnought, _see_ Ships of War
Drepanum, battle of
Duguay-Trouin, French commander
Duilius, Roman consul
Dumanoir, French admiral
Duncan, British admiral, at Camperdown
Dungeness, battle of

E.

East Indies Companies, British and Dutch
Ecnomus, battle of
Egypt, early ships of; Napoleon in
Elizabeth, queen of England
_Emden_, German cruiser; cruise of
England, early naval history of; at war with Spain; at war with
  Holland; at war with France; plans for invasion of.
  _See_ Great Britain
Entente of Great Britain, France, and Russia
Ericsson, John
Erie, battle of Lake
Eurybiades, Spartan commander
Evan-Thomas, British admiral
Evertsen, Dutch admiral

F.

Falkland Islands, battle of
Farragut, U. S. admiral
Fighting Instructions, of British Navy
Fireships
First of June, battle of
Fisher, British admiral
Fisher, Fort, capture of
Fleet in Being
Foch, French general
Foley, British captain
Four Days' Battle, in Dutch Wars
France, at war with England in 18th century; in Napoleonic Wars; in
  Far East; aids Russia; in World War
Francis I, of France
Frobisher, Martin
Fulton, Robert; his submarine

G.

Gabbard, battle of
_Galleon of Venice_, Venetian ship
Galley, galleon, galleas, _see_ Ships of War
Gallipoli Peninsula, operations on; _see_ Dardanelles
Ganteaume, French admiral
Genoa; at war with Venice
Germany, early commerce under Hausa; unification of; in Far East;
  aids Russia; growth of; in World War.
Gibraltar, captured by British; blockaded
_Göben_, German battle cruiser, escape of
Goodenough, British naval officer, at Heligoland Bight; at Jutland
Grand Fleet, British; strength of; at Jutland
Graves, British admiral
Gravina, Spanish admiral
Great Britain, in Napoleonic Wars; in War of 1812; in World War.
  _See_ England.
Greece; at war with Persia; in Peloponnesian War
Greek fire
Grenville, Sir Richard
Guns, gunpowder, _see_ Ordnance
Gunfleet, battle of

H.

Hampton Roads, battle of
Hannibal
Hanseatic League
Hase, German naval officer, quoted
Hawke, British admiral
Hawkins, John
Heath, British admiral
Heimskirck, Jacob van, Dutch seaman
Heligoland; battle of
Heligoland Bight, battle of
Hellespont
Henry, Prince, the Navigator
Henry VIII, of England
Herbert, Lord Torrington, British admiral
Hermæa, battle of
High Seas Fleet, of Germany; strength of; at Jutland; surrender of
Hindenberg, German general
Hipper, German admiral, at Dogger Bank; at Jutland
Hobson, U. S. naval officer
Hoche, French general
Holland, _see_ Netherlands
Holland, John P.
Hood, British admiral, at Virginia Capes; at Saints' Passage,
Hood, British rear-admiral, at Jutland
Horton, Max, British commander
Hotham, British admiral
Howard, Thomas, of Effingham
Howe, British admiral; at First of June
Hudson, Henry
Hughes, British admiral

I.

Interior Lines, defined
Italy, at war with Austria; in World War
Ito, Japanese admiral, at the Yalu

J.

Jamaica, captured by British
Janissaries
Japan, at war with China; at war with Russia
Jellicoe, British admiral; at Jutland
Jervis, Earl St. Vincent, British admiral; character of; at Cape
  St. Vincent
Jones, Paul, American naval officer
Juan, _see_ Don Juan
Jutland, battle of

K.

Kamimura, Japanese admiral
_Karlsrühe_, German cruiser
Keith, British admiral
Kentish Knock, battle of
Keyes, British naval officer
Kiao-chau, seized by Germany
Kiel Canal
Kitchener, British general
_Königsberg_, German cruiser
Korea

L.

Lake, Simon
La Hogue, battle of
La Touche Tréville, French admiral
Lepanto, campaign of; battle of
Lepidus, Roman general
Leyden, siege of
Lowestoft, battle of
London, Declaration of
Louis XIV of France
_Lusitania_, loss of

M.

McGiffin, American naval officer, at the Yalu
Macdonough, U. S. commodore
Magellan, Portuguese navigator
Mahan, American naval officer, quoted; in Spanish-American War
_Maine_, U. S. battleship
Makaroff, Russian admiral
Malta; siege of
Manila, battle of
Marathon, battle of
Mardonius
Martel, Charles
Mary Queen of Scots
Matelieff, de Jonge, Dutch seaman
Medina Sidonia, Duke of
_Merrimac_, Confederate ram; in action with _Monitor_
Milne, British admiral
Mine barrage, in North Sea
Missiessy, French admiral
Mohammed
Mohammedans, _see_ Arabs
_Monitor_, U. S. ironclad-292
Monk, British admiral
Monroe Doctrine
Montojo, Spanish admiral
Moore, British admiral
Muaviah, Emir of Syria
Mukden, battle of
Müller, German naval officer
Muza, Mohammedan general
Mycale, battle of
Mylæ, battle of

N.

Napoleon, quoted; in Italy; in Egypt; plans northern coalition;
  attempts invasion of England; instructs Villeneuve; adopts
  continental system
Naupaktis, battle of
Navarino, battle of
Navigation, progress in
Navigation Acts
Navy, British, administration of; under Commonwealth; training of
  officers for; at Restoration; in 18th century; in French
  Revolutionary Wars; mutiny in; in War of 1812; size of, in World
  War. _See_ England, Great
  Britain.
  French, in 18th century; in French Revolution. _See_ France.
  United States, in War of 1812; in Civil War; in World War.
  _See_ United States
Nebogatoff, Russian admiral
Nelson, Horatio, British admiral; in Mediterranean; at Cape St.
  Vincent; at the Nile; at Copenhagen; in the Channel; in Trafalgar
  campaign and battle
Netherlands, at war with Hansa; commerce of; at war with Spain; at
  war with England; in War of American Revolution; in Napoleonic Wars,
New York, taken by British; held by Howe
Nicosia, siege of
Nile, campaign of; battle of
Nore, mutiny at
North Sea Mine Barrage, _see_ Mine Barrage

O.

Octavius, Roman emperor, at Actium
Ontario, campaign on Lake
Open Door Policy
Oquendo, Spanish naval officer
Ordnance, early types of; introduced on ships; at Armada;
  breech-loading; rifled; long range
_Oregon_, U. S. battleship, cruise of; at Santiago

P.

Panama Canal
Parker, British Admiral, at Copenhagen-258
Parma, Duke of
Peloponnesian War
Penn, British admiral
Perry, U. S. Commodore
Persano, Italian admiral, at Lissa
Persia, conquers Phnicia; at war with Greece
Pharselis, battle of
Philip II, of Spain
Phnicia, commerce and colonies of; at Salamis
Phormio, Greek admiral
Platea, battle of
Port Arthur; given to Japan; seized by Russia; operations around; fall of
Portland, battle of
Portsmouth, Treaty of
Portugal, commerce and colonies of; decline of
Prevesa, battle of
Prussia, in Northern Coalition; at war with Austria
Ptolemy

Q.

"Q-ships"
Quiberon Bay, battle of

R.

Raleigh, Sir Walter
Recalde, Spanish naval officer
Renaissance
_Revenge_, Drake's flagship; last fight of
Robeck, British admiral, at Dardanelles
Rodman, U. S. admiral
Rodney, British admiral; at Saints' Passage
Rojdestvensky, Russian admiral, cruise of; at Tsushima
Rome, in Punic Wars; in Actium campaign; wars of Eastern Empire
Rooke, British admiral
Roosevelt, Theodore
Rosyth, British base
Rupert, Prince
Russia, in Napoleonic Wars; in Far East;
  at war with Japan, in World War
Ruyter. _See_ De Ruyter

S.

Saint Andrée, Jean Bon
St. Vincent, battle of Cape
St. Vincent, Earl of. _See_ Jervis
Saints' Passage, battle of
Salamis, battle of; campaign of
Salonika
Sampson, U. S. admiral, in Santiago campaign
San Juan de Ulna, fight at
Santa Cruz, Spanish admiral
Santiago, battle of
Saracens. _See_ Arabs
Scapa Flow, British base
Scheer, German admiral, at Jutland
Scheldt River; battle in; blockaded by Dutch
Scheveningen, battle of
Schley, U. S. naval officer, in Santiago campaign
Schoonevelt, battle of
Scott, Sir Percy, British admiral
Sea Beggars
Sea Power, preserves Greece; England's gains by; in Napoleonic Wars;
  in World War; influence of; elements of
Selim the Drunkard, Sultan of Turkey
Semenoff, Russian naval officer
Seymour, British admiral, at Armada
Shafter, U. S. general
Shimonoseki, Treaty of
Ships of War, "round" and "long"; trireme; penteconter; liburna;
  galley; dromon; galleas; junk; Viking craft; galleon; two and
  three-deckers; steam; submarine; destroyer; battle cruiser;
  dreadnought
Sicily; in Punic Wars
Sims, U. S. admiral
Sinope, bombardment of
Sirocco. Turkish admiral
Sluis, battle of
Solebay, battle of
Soliman the Magnificent, Sultan of Turkey
Souchon, German admiral
Spain, at war with Turks; discoveries of; at war with Dutch; at war
  with England; in Napoleonic Wars; at war with United States
Spanish Armada
Sparta. _See_ Greece.
Spee, German admiral
Steam navigation, beginnings of
Sturdee, British admiral
Submarine, early types of; in World War
Suez Canal
Suffren, French admiral
Syracuse, at war with Athens

T.

Tactics, of galleys; after use of sails and guns; in Dutch wars; in
  18th century; after use of armor; influenced by Lissa; at Jutland;
  in submarine warfare
Takeomi, Japanese naval officer
Tegetthoff, Austrian admiral, at Lissa
Teneriffe, attacked by Blake
Terschelling, raided by English
Texel, battle of
Themistocles
Theophanes
Thermopylæ, battle of
Ting, Chinese admiral, at the Yalu
Tirpitz, German admiral
Togo, Japanese admiral; at battle of 10th of August; at Tsushima
Togo, Japanese squadron commander
Tordesillas, Treaty of
Torpedoes, origin of name; Whitehead; in Russo-Japanese war,
Torrington, Earl of. _See_ Herbert
Toscanelli, Paul
Toulon, French base
Tourville, French admiral
Trafalgar, battle of
Transport service, in World War
Triple Alliance
Tromp, Cornelius, Dutch admiral
Tromp, Martin, Dutch admiral
Troubridge, British naval officer
Tsuboi, Japanese admiral, at the Yalu
Tsushima, battle of
Tunis; captured by Spanish; attacked by Blake
Turkey, rise of; at war with Venice and Spain; in World War
Tyrwhitt, British naval officer

U.

Ulm, battle of
Uluch Ali, Turkish leader; in Lepanto campaign
United States, in American Revolution; in War of 1812; in Civil War;
  in Spanish-American War; in World War; naval problems of. _See_ Navy

V.

Valdes, Pedro de, Spanish naval officer
Valdes, Pedrode, Spanish naval officer
Vandals
Veniero, Venetian admiral
_Vengeur du Peuple_, French ship
Venice, early history of; commerce of; at war with Turks; ships of
Vikings
Villaret de Joyeuse, French admiral, at First of June
Villeneuve, French admiral; at the Nile; in Trafalgar campaign and battle
Virginia Capes, battle of

W.

Wangenheim, Baron von
Wei-hai-wei
William II, German emperor
William III of England
William, Prince of Orange
Wilson, Woodrow, President of United States
Winter, Dutch admiral
Witjeft, Russian admiral

X.-Y.-Z.

Xerxes
"Y-guns"
Yalu, battle of
York, Duke of, afterward James II of England
Zama, battle of
Zeebrugge, attack on