ming from Goa with a splendid fleet,
numbering fourteen great galleons, four galleys, and sixteen smaller
vessels, manned by three thousand seven hundred Portuguese and other
Europeans, and an equal number of native troops, he had at first directed
his course towards Atchen, on the north-west point of Sumatra. Here, with
the magnificent arrogance which Spanish and Portuguese viceroys were
accustomed to manifest towards the natives of either India, he summoned
the king to surrender his strongholds, to assist in constructing a
fortress for the use of his conquerors, to deliver up all the
Netherlanders within his domains, and to pay the expenses of the
expedition which had thus been sent to chastise him. But the King of
Atchen had not sent ambassadors into the camp of Prince Maurice before
the city of Grave in vain. He had learned that there were other white
skins besides the Spaniards at the antipodes, and that the republic whose
achievements in arts and arms were conspicuous trophies of Western
civilization, was not, as it had been represented to him, a mere nest of
pirates. He had learned to prefer an alliance with Holland to slavery
under Spain. Moreover, he had Dutch engineers and architects in his
service, and a well-constructed system of Dutch fortifications around his
capital. To the summons to surrender himself and his allies he returned a
defiant answer. The viceroy ordered an attack upon the city. One fort was
taken. From before the next he was repulsed with great loss. The
Sumatrans had derived more profit from intercourse with Europeans than
the inhabitants of Johore or the Moluccas had done. De Castro abandoned
the siege. He had received intelligence of the dangerous situation of
Malacca, and moved down upon the place with his whole fleet. Admiral
Matelieff, apprised by scouts of his approach, behaved with the readiness
and coolness of a veteran campaigner. Before De Castro could arrive in
the roadstead of Malacca, he had withdrawn all his troops from their
positions, got all his artillery reshipped, and was standing out in the
straits, awaiting the enemy.

On the 17th August, the two fleets, so vastly disproportionate in number,
size, equipment, and military force--eighteen galleons and galleys, with
four or five thousand fighting men, against eleven small vessels and
twelve or fourteen hundred sailors--met in that narrow sea. The action
lasted all day. It was neither spirited nor sanguinary. It ought to have