little more of wrangling with one another, the chiefs, who could agree on nothing else, agreed to come away. On the way home, information was received that several Spanish treasure galleons returning from America under protection of a French squadron commanded by Châteaurenault had put into Vigo. Here was a definite object offering a plain aim both to public spirit and private greed. Dissensions ceased. Sailor and soldier united in vigorous co-operation. There is a spacious outer bay at Vigo, and a convenient, though smaller, inner anchorage reached through a narrow entry. A boom had been laid across this, and the French and Spaniards were anchored within. On the 12th October, the allies, led by Admiral Hopson, dashed at the boom while soldiers landed for the purpose turned the fortifications on shore. The French warships and Spanish galleons were either destroyed by the allies or by their own crews. The Government treasure had been disembarked and was far inland, but a good deal of miscellaneous pillage no doubt fell to the squadron and the troops. On the 19th the expedition sailed away, and reached England on the 7th November. Its doings added another chapter to the dreary history of parliamentary debates on “naval miscarriages.” In 1703 a Grand Fleet went out to the Mediterranean under command of Cloudesley Shovell. It swept the coasts of Spain and Provence, endeavouring to quicken the Hapsburg party in Spain and to send help to the Protestants of the Cevennes, who were in revolt against King Louis—with no success in either case. But the following year saw operations of another order, forming a fruitful campaign—movements of large hostile armaments over a great area, a balance of forces, and a clash of conflict leaving permanent results.