Cromwell, now dictator, turned his attention to Spain, which was the most dangerous trade rival of the English Puritans in America. Accordingly, in 1654, he sent out two fleets, one to the Mediterranean under Blake, the other to the West Indies under Penn and Venables. Blake had a general commission to protect British commerce, and this he interpreted as permission to attack the Barbary pirates, who levied blackmail on all the commerce of Europe passing their shores. Scores of luckless merchantmen bound for the Levant were boarded and rifled, and their crews carried off as slaves. Possibly the compilers of the English Church Litany had the sufferings of thousands of their fellow-countrymen in mind when they wrote, “That it may please Thee to show Thy pity upon all prisoners and captives.” Blake ran into the harbour of Tunis in spite of fleet, castles, moles, batteries, and musketeers, and in a few hours nine vessels of the pirate fleet were in flames, and he was outward bound, congratulating himself on a good work well done. This gallant exploit made the British name a terror in the Mediterranean. He now visited the chief ports of the western Mediterranean “to show his flag” and everywhere he was received with fear and trembling. He returned to England in October 1655, but spent little time ashore, for the Protector had now a daring task to set him. Penn and Venables had failed miserably in the West Indies, and British arms had suffered a discreditable reverse. Cromwell was not the man to overlook failures of this sort. He promptly sent the quarrelsome officers to the Tower, and dispatched Blake to the Spanish Main to do the work properly. In a preliminary cruise off the Spanish coast he captured several Plate ships, and in 1657 he set sail for Santa Cruz, in Teneriffe, where he accomplished his last and most brilliant feat. Within the horseshoe-shaped harbour, belted with forts mounting the heaviest artillery then known, lay sixteen great galleons, all well armed. The Spaniards boasted that within that death-trap their treasure-ships were absolutely safe. The historian of the time wrote truly: “All men who knew the place concluded that no sober men, with whatever courage soever endued, would ever undertake it.” Blake discovered that the six largest galleons were drawn up in line, commanding the entrance to the harbour, and that behind them were the other ships. When he learnt this he might have repeated Cromwell’s exulting cry at Dunbar, “The Lord hath delivered them into my hands.” If he ran in with a fair wind and a flowing tide beneath the walls of the great fort at the entrance, little harm could come to him, for its great guns could not readily be depressed so as to stay his progress. Further, the massing of the largest galleons at the harbour mouth covered the fire of the ships behind, and prevented several of the forts from firing lest they should injure friend and foe alike.