CHARLES I.--_continued_. THE NAVY.
Since Charles had resolved to assert his claims to the sovereignty
of the sea by force if necessary, it was obviously essential that he
should have a strong and capable fleet. During the peaceful reign of
James the navy had greatly deteriorated from what it had been under
Queen Elizabeth.[444] The expedition to Cadiz in 1625, and that to Rhé
two years later, revealed startling inefficiency and disorganisation,
and efforts were soon made to bring it into a better state. When he
assumed the crown, his fleet consisted of thirty ships; in 1633 it
numbered fifty, including the ten small vessels called the “Lion’s
Whelps”; and when the Civil War broke out there were forty-two, the
difference being due to the shedding of the smaller ones.[445]
There were many reasons why a strong fleet should be provided, apart
from any question of enforcing a new political sovereignty over
the North Sea and the Channel. The maritime strength of the United
Provinces was growing quickly, and France, under the wise and energetic
guidance of Richelieu, was rapidly becoming a formidable naval power.
Within the space of about five years before 1631, as Charles knew, the
Cardinal had created a fleet of thirty-nine ships, of which eighteen
were of 500 tons or over, and no less than twenty-seven had been built
in French ports.[446] These two states were drawing closer together,
and while it was known that their alliance, which was then mooted and
was soon realised, would be chiefly directed against Spain, it was
nevertheless a danger to England unless she was strong enough to defend
her rights on the sea.
Other reasons were the insecurity of the seas from the prevalence
of piracy, and the violation of the “King’s Chambers,” and even of
English ports, by the Dunkirkers and the Dutch. Moorish pirates swarmed
in the Channel and made havoc amongst English shipping. So bold and
successful were they, that in 1631 they seized and sacked Baltimore,
on the coast of Munster, and carried off over 200 English subjects
into slavery. Within a space of ten days they captured twenty-seven
ships and 200 men.[447] The Dunkirkers played a corresponding _rôle_
in the North Sea. In a petition to the king in 1627, the ship-owners
of Ipswich complained that within a year the Dunkirkers had captured
five of their ships, valued with their cargoes at £5000, and carried
the crews to Dunkirk. No ship, they said, could go to sea, and the
livelihood of seafaring men was taken from them, and the king’s service
would thus suffer. The Mayor and burgesses of King’s Lynn put the
losses of the town at twenty-five ships, worth £9000, and complained
that they were unable to carry on the Iceland fishery. The Cinque Ports
also complained that the Dunkirkers had taken their goods, imprisoned
their mariners, and rifled and sunk their ships on the English shore;
and they asked for a guard to enable them to go to the fishing in the
north and at Scarborough and Yarmouth. The alarm was general all along
the coast. In February 1629 the bailiffs of Yarmouth reported that the
sea was overrun with Dunkirkers, who had even rifled and fired one of
their ships close under the cliffs at Mundesley, notwithstanding the
efforts of the sheriff and posse of the county; they said 250 fishing
vessels were ready to go to the northern fishing and awaited convoy.
In the next year they and other towns of Norfolk and Suffolk stated
their intention of sending out two fishing fleets of “ships, barks, and
crayers,”--one of 160 sail to Iceland and Westmony, and the other of
230 sail for the north seas,--and they begged for ships of war to guard
them, as the livelihood or “utter ruin” of 10,000 people and their
families depended on these fleets. Two years later they repeated their
request to the Admiralty, saying they usually sent out a fleet of
about 300 sail, with 5000 persons, to the fishings mentioned, but the
fishermen were now so terrified by the Dunkirkers that they refused to
go. The Mayor of Newcastle also informed the Council that they had been
despoiled to the extent of £7000; he said there were 300 sail in port
which dared not venture out; and the Council were asked to take means
to secure safe passage on the sea. At this time there were said to be
forty Dunkirk privateers scouring the North Sea, many of them with
English sailors on board.[448] We have already seen how successfully
these freebooters preyed upon the busses of the Fishery Society.
Here then was a clear case for a navy, when an effective navy did
not exist. The Council and the Admiralty took such isolated measures
as they could; but the Dunkirkers were almost always too nimble to
be caught. “They take ships,” wrote the commander of a man-of-war
convoying the Iceland fishing fleet, “and we in sight and cannot come
up to help it.” The duty and expense of providing convoys to protect
the fishermen were thrown on the fishing ports and the counties. In
1627 the Council ordered four Newcastle ships to be taken up for eight
months, to convoy the Iceland fleet, at a cost of £1768, to be paid
out of the “loans” in Suffolk. The estimate in the following year for
a guard of four merchant ships, of 400 tons each, with 120 men for
one month in harbour and 240 men for six months at sea, was £4399;
and the Council in authorising the Admiralty to “press, victual, arm,
and man” the ships, instructed that if Yarmouth and the other towns
wanted convoy in future they should first consult together as to some
mode of levying monies for it, either upon the coast towns or upon the
counties of Norfolk and Suffolk. This was done, in part at least, by
levying a contribution of twenty shillings from each fisherman; and
fishermen also protected themselves by insuring their vessels in London
against the risks of capture by the Dunkirk privateers. The owners and
masters of the merchant ships thus pressed to act as guards to the
fishing fleets were usually most unwilling to serve, and sometimes
“utterly refused,” and the Admiralty had to get an Order in Council
to compel them.[449] Provision of a guard for the east coast generally
was attempted by levying a duty of two and five shillings a ton on all
coal laden at Newcastle or Sunderland for English and foreign ports
respectively.[450]
Equally impressive evidence of the lawlessness that then reigned on the
sea, and of the inability to deal with it effectively, was furnished by
the flagrant violation of English ports and roadsteads, by the Dutch
as well as the Dunkirkers, who waged incessant war with one another.
The herring-busses and merchant vessels of the former were frequently
captured, rifled, and burned by the privateers, and when the commander
of a Dutch man-of-war had a chance of destroying one of the pests, he
was not always deterred from vengeance by the Dunkirker taking refuge
in English waters; and in like manner the privateer did not scruple to
pursue his prey into English ports and anchorages. Sometimes, indeed,
the warfare was continued on English soil and the lives of the king’s
lieges endangered. In 1634, for example, a Dunkirker chased a Hollander
vessel into Yarmouth harbour and robbed her, and a lively fusillade
went on between the Dutchmen, who had taken refuge on the pier, and
the crew of the privateer, and one of the former was killed. As the
Dunkirkers refused to stop their “furious assault,” the bailiffs
ordered two of the town’s guns to be fired at them, “which they only
scoffed at”; and when the marshal called upon them in the king’s name
to desist and begone, they only “answered with unseemly gestures and
scorn,” and they did not make off until a company of musketeers went
down to them. But next day as the privateer was hovering off the coast,
two States’ men-of-war bore down upon her and she ran for shelter to
the beach near Lowestoft; but the Dutch followed, seized her, and
carried her off, the crew escaping to shore, where they were promptly
arrested and lodged in Yarmouth jail.
A still more outrageous transgression of the neutrality of an English
port took place in the following year, at the very time that Lindsey’s
fleet was cruising in the Channel. A Dunkirker brought a Hollander buss
into Scarborough harbour, and she was followed by a States’ man-of-war,
which opened fire, and a fight both with cannon and muskets took
place. The bullets, flying into the town, hit several of the citizens,
and some strangers on the sands were also hurt, “to the amazement
and discouragement of the whole town.” Twelve Dunkirkers were slain,
and the rest only saved themselves by swimming ashore, while the
man-of-war went off with both the privateer and the buss. A fortnight
later another privateer was chased into the harbour by a Hollander
man-of-war, which landed three or four score of men, armed with muskets
and pikes, to set upon the Dunkirkers when the ship lay dry; and the
Dutch captain only consented to re-embark them, on condition that the
bailiffs of the town would themselves place a guard of fifty men to
watch the privateer, so as to prevent any of the crew escaping.[451]
This glaring outrage on English soil caused the Council to arrest a
Dutch man-of-war, to be held until the one that had committed the
misdeed should be delivered up; for, said Windebank, it was a matter
that concerned the king himself in point of honour and the safety of
the kingdom, as an act of hostility, “little less than an invasion,”
had been committed in landing armed men on his Majesty’s territories,
“violating his imperial chamber and threatening his subjects.”
Nevertheless, in the next month a like offence was committed at Blyth,
when a Dutch man-of-war not only attacked a Dunkirk privateer lying
in the harbour, but landed fifty men armed with muskets, who marched
in military order nearly half a mile, “to the great terror of the
inhabitants,” and by seizing the fishing-boats, captured the Dunkirker
and took her away. Not only so, but thirty of the Hollanders, armed,
and with trumpets, pursued the crew of the privateer on land for
a distance of two miles.[452] There was a natural excuse for the
violence of the Hollanders in these proceedings. They were exasperated
by the immense havoc which the privateers had just committed on their
herring-busses, by sinking or burning over 100 of them, the remainder
of the fishing fleet escaping into Scottish and English harbours.[453]
This insecurity of the sea and the open and daring violation of English
ports remind one of the conditions that too frequently prevailed in
earlier centuries. The misdeeds must have been galling to Charles,
for only a short time before he had issued a public proclamation with
the object of putting a stop to them. In February 1633 Sir H. Marten,
Judge of the High Court of Admiralty, along with the Attorney-General,
had been instructed, in view of the war between Spain and the United
Provinces, to draw up a regulation whereby “his Majesty’s ancient
rights, honours, and sovereignty in the narrow seas and in the chambers
and ports may be preserved, and the trade of the kingdom of England
and Ireland secured.”[454] In this regulation (which is printed in
Appendix H) a claim to absolute dominion over the Four Seas was made.
The king spoke of “that sovereignty and especial and peculiar interest
and property which he and his predecessors, time out of mind, have
had and enjoyed in the said seas, and so approved not only by the
fundamental laws of this his kingdom, but by the acknowledgment and
assent of the bordering princes and nations, as appeareth by undoubted
records”--language which seems like an echo of Selden’s _Mare Clausum_.
Moreover, in referring to the limits of the “King’s Chambers,” he
continued: “Albeit his Majesty doth justly challenge sovereignty and
property in all those his seas, far beyond the limits hereafter to be
described, and might with like justice require from all persons using
those his seas a forbearance from injuries and all hostile actions, yet
(in and through all the same) suddenly to tie the hands of his friends
and allies in open hostility each with other, is not for some reasons
held convenient at this time,” and therefore he would cause the bounds
to be laid down within which he would yield peace and security to his
friends and neighbours.[455]
Clearly, however, something more than a proclamation was required to
ensure the security of the seas and the neutrality of the chambers
and ports. As early as 1627 official proposals had been made to build
thirty ships of a small class to guard the narrow seas, which might
compete in swiftness with the privateers and freebooters infesting
them,--a plan that was partly carried out by the building of the ten
“Lion’s Whelps,” which, however, proved complete failures. An estimate
was also procured for building eighteen ships and two pinnaces, at a
cost of about £43,000, the estimated expense of the crews being £6100
per month.[456] Various other schemes were considered, including one
to form a fleet of forty armed Newcastle colliers, to be employed
primarily in convoying the coal ships, but capable of being called
off at any time for the king’s service. The want of money was the
great obstacle to the formation of a strong fleet. The wages of the
seamen and others employed were always in arrear,--at the end of 1627
the arrears amounted to £251,361,--and the victualling and furnishing
of the ships afloat were of the worst possible description.[457] The
necessity of a fleet to maintain the dominion of the sea and defend the
coasts was being constantly urged upon the king. The Attorney-General,
Heath, in 1632, called attention to the truism that our strength and
safety lay “in our walls, which is our shipping,” and he strongly
recommended that a powerful fleet should be maintained because of
the boldness of the Hollanders, and in order to preserve the king’s
prerogative in the fisheries in the British seas, as well as to secure
the mastery of the narrow seas.[458]
Charles required no spur in a matter the importance of which he
thoroughly understood, and he had private and personal reasons for
wishing that a strong force should be placed on the sea. It was the
family policy as to the restoration of the Palatinate that chiefly
guided him. At the end of 1633 he entered into negotiations with
Spain for an alliance against the Dutch, and in the following year a
secret treaty was drafted and sent to Madrid (four days before the
issue of the first ship-money writs) in which Charles undertook to
provide a fleet, partly at the charge of the King of Spain, who was to
advance a sum of £50,000 and help to recover the Palatinate for his
nephew.[459] It was intended that the fleet should co-operate with
the Spaniards against the United Provinces; the ports of Flanders
were to be freed from the blockade maintained by the Dutch, and
Spanish vessels carrying soldiers and money for Dunkirk were to be
protected by English ships; the mastery of the Dutch at sea was to be
destroyed, the Republic was to be attacked and overthrown, and the
country divided between the allies. The open avowal of such a policy
would have been equivalent to making it almost impossible, for an
alliance with Catholic Spain against the Protestant Republic was in
the highest degree unpopular in England, and the fleet, moreover,
was to be created by means of the ship-money writs. The negotiations
had been carried on with the greatest secrecy; only three members of
the Council (Portland, Cottington, and Windebank) were in the king’s
confidence, the others remaining in ignorance. It was thus necessary
to deceive them as well as the nation as to the object of equipping a
fleet. The insecurity of the seas from the prevalence of piracy and the
violations of English waters, referred to above, were put forward among
the ostensible reasons to justify it. “The pretext of this arming,”
it was distinctly stated in 1634, “shall be to secure the coasts of
Great Britain and Ireland, and to free them from pirates and others
that commit hostilities and insolencies there.”[460] To deceive the
people by fears of invasion, owing to the “great preparations both by
sea and land of the neighbouring princes,” orders were given to have
the beacons along the coast examined; to muster and make ready the
trained bands to join their colours at an hour’s warning; to enrol all
untrained men between the ages of sixteen and sixty, so that levies of
them might be made “on any sudden occasion.”[461]
Another reason put prominently forward to cloak the nefarious scheme
was the need of maintaining the ancient sovereignty of the sea. While
the Spanish negotiations were proceeding, Boroughs, as we shall see,
had finished his treatise on the rights of the crown in the adjoining
seas, and Selden was busy with his _Mare Clausum_. The language of the
ship-money writs, sent out in October 1634, and the charge of Lord
Coventry to the Judges, breathed the same spirit as these treatises.
In the writs, which were founded upon extracts made by Boroughs from
records of the times of Edward I., II., and III.,[462] the king
described how “thieves, pirates, and robbers of the sea” were “taking
by force and spoiling the ships and goods and merchandises, not only
of our subjects, but also of the subjects of our friends in the sea
which hath been accustomed anciently to be defended by the English
nation,” delivering the men into miserable captivity. The pirates, he
said, were daily preparing all manner of shipping further to molest the
merchants, unless a remedy was applied, and that in view also of the
dangers menacing the realm “in these times of war,” it was necessary
to hasten the defence of the sea and kingdom. Therefore, he continued,
“We willing by the help of God chiefly to provide for the defence of
the kingdom, safeguard of the sea, security of our subjects, safe
conduct of ships and merchandises to our kingdom of England coming,
and from the same kingdom to foreign parts passing; forasmuch as we
and our progenitors, Kings of England, have been always heretofore
masters of the aforesaid sea, and it would be very irksome unto us
if that princely honour in our time should be lost or in anything
diminished,” it was necessary for the sea-coast towns to furnish ships
or an equivalent in money.[463] In similar language Coventry told the
Judges in 1635 that the dominion of the sea, “as it was an ancient and
undoubted right of the crown of England,” so was it the best security
of the land, which was impregnable so long as the sea was well guarded;
and that those subjects “whose minds are most fixed upon the honour of
the king and country” would not endure that it should be either lost
or diminished. The safety of the realm, he said, required the dominion
of the sea to be kept and the sea guarded: “The wooden-walls are the
best walls of the kingdom; and if the riches and wealth of the kingdom
be respected, for that cause the dominion of the sea ought to be
respected; for else what would become of our wool, lead, and the like,
the price whereof would fall to nothing if others should be masters of
the sea?” If the dominion of the sea was lost, trade and commerce would
be lost by being placed at the mercy of the neighbouring nations, and
the whole kingdom would suffer.[464]
In carrying out his Spanish policy, Charles’s first task was to deceive
his Council.[465] For this purpose no better agent could have been
chosen than Coke, who, as we have seen, was by this time enthusiastic
about the sovereignty of the seas, and was known to be hostile to
Spain. He was accordingly directed to prepare a report for the king on
the unsatisfactory relations between England and foreign countries,
and the need of providing a fleet. In the long statement he drew up,
Coke described how the credit of the country had been lowered abroad,
and innumerable wrongs and insolences suffered in various parts of
the world, because of the want of a sufficient navy to make our name
respected. “All free trade,” he wrote, “is interrupted”; within the
king’s own chambers squadrons of men-of-war from Biscay and Flanders
took not only Hollanders, but Frenchmen, Hamburgers, and his Majesty’s
subjects. From the Hollanders “we suffered most by their intrusion on
our fishings and pretence of _Mare Liberum_,” and they pursued and
took prizes in our ports and rivers. But our trade and rights were
injured everywhere,--from Constantinople and Morocco to Denmark and
Sweden,--and Coke recommended that the navy should be reinforced in
order that the king might obtain justice and “recover his undoubted
right of sovereignty in all his seas.”[466] Coke read his report to
the Council in June 1634; the ship-money writs were issued in October;
and in May next year the first of the “ship-money fleets” was ready
and was placed under the command of the Earl of Lindsey, with special
instructions to maintain the king’s sovereignty of the sea.
On the Continent the naval preparations of England were followed with
close attention. As early as 1633, Joachimi, the States’ ambassador in
London, informed his Government that the English were putting forth
pretensions to be sole lords and masters of the narrow seas, and he
earnestly advised the States to avoid everything which might give the
English offence in their excitable condition, on a matter which they
had so much at heart.[467] An indication of the feeling prevailing in
England was observed by the ambassador early in the year, for when he
complained that Dutch vessels had been fired on from Portland Castle
and then detained, he was told they had presumed to put up their flags
in the face of the king’s colours flying on the walls.[468] Next year
the repeated complaints from England as to the violation of the King’s
Chambers by Dutch vessels of war, and the seizure of one of them by the
English in consequence of the attack at Scarborough, did not lessen
the apprehensions that began to be entertained in Holland. Rumours
circulated that the English fleet was being prepared for the purpose of
waging war against the Republic, and the answer given by the English
ambassador at The Hague to inquiries as to the object of the fleet
was not calculated to allay anxiety. In the spring of 1635, a little
before the Earl of Lindsey hoisted his colours on the _Merhonour_, Coke
wrote a long and resounding despatch to Boswell, the English ambassador
at The Hague, explaining the reasons for the naval preparations.
“First,” he said, “we hold it a principle not to be denied, that the
King of Great Britain is a monarch at land and sea to the full extent
of his dominions, and that it concerneth him as much to maintain his
sovereignty in all the British seas as within his three kingdoms;
because without that these cannot be kept safe, nor he preserve his
honour and due respect with other nations. But, commanding the seas, he
may cause his neighbours and all countries to stand upon their guard
whensoever he thinks fit. And this cannot be doubted, that whosoever
will encroach upon him by sea, will do it by land also when they see
their time. To such presumption,” he added, “_Mare Liberum_ gave the
first warning-piece, which must be answered with a defence of _Mare
Clausum_: not so much by discourses, as by the louder language of a
powerful navy, to be better understood when overstrained patience seeth
no hope of preserving her right by other means.” The innuendo against
the United Provinces was still further developed. They had impeached
the king’s dominion in his seas for a long course of years. They had
been permitted to gather wealth and strength in our ports and on our
coasts by trade and fishery, for which they had “sued to King James
for license,” granted under the great seal of Scotland; and when they
had possessed themselves of our fishings “by leave or by connivance,”
and obtained a great trade by our staple, they so increased their
shipping and naval power that now they would not endure to be kept
at any distance. “Nay,” exclaimed Coke, “to such confidence are they
grown, that they keep guard upon our seas,” and prohibit us free
commerce within them; they take our ships and goods unless we conform
to their placards. Besides all which, “what insolencies and cruelties”
they have committed against us in the past, in Ireland, in Greenland,
in the Indies, as known to all the world; care would be taken to
refresh their memories on these wrongs “as there should be cause.”
After a preamble of this sort one might expect a declaration of war
to follow. But the fleet, Coke continued, was neither for revenge nor
for the execution of justice for past wrongs. It was primarily to put
a stop to the “violent current of the presumption” of men-of-war and
freebooters, who had abused the freedom allowed by the king to friends
and allies to make use of his seas and ports, by assaulting one another
within his Majesty’s chambers and in his rivers, “to the scorn and
contempt of his dominion and power.” The king intended no rupture with
any prince or state; he was “resolved to continue and maintain that
happy peace wherewith God hath blessed his kingdom, and to which all
his actions and negotiations have hitherto tended.” But that peace
must be maintained by the arm of power, “which only keeps down war by
keeping up dominion.” Therefore the king found it necessary, even for
his own defence and safety, “to re-assume and keep his ancient and
undoubted right in the dominion of these seas, and to suffer no other
prince or state to encroach upon him, thereby assuming to themselves
or their Admirals any sovereign command; but to force them to perform
due homage to his Admirals and ships, and to pay them acknowledgments,
as in former times they did. He would also set open and protect the
free trade both of his subjects and allies, and give them such safe
conduct and convoy as they shall reasonably require. He will suffer no
other fleets or men-of-war to keep any guard upon these seas, or there
to offer violence, or take prizes or booties, or to give interruption
to any lawful intercourse. In a word,” Coke concluded, “his Majesty is
resolved, as to do no wrong, so to do justice, both to his subjects and
friends within the limits of his seas.”[469]
The substance of this bombastic despatch, in which Charles was fully
displayed in his new figure as a Plantagenet, was communicated by
Boswell in a memoir to the States-General, and their High Mightinesses
must have rubbed their eyes as they read it.[470] But it at least
removed their fears of immediate war. Explanations of similar tenour,
but couched in more moderate language, were made to other Courts. The
intentions of the king were declared to be quite peaceful, and stress
was laid on the violations of the King’s Chambers, “to the great
derogation of that dominion at sea which has always of right belonged
to the Imperial crown of this kingdom”; the fleet was to free his
coasts and seas from such disturbances, to secure free trade to his
subjects and allies, and “to reduce his dominion upon the British seas
to the ancient style and lustre.”[471]
Let us now turn to the fleet which was to carry out this grand
programme and see what it actually accomplished. The ships began to
assemble in the Downs in May, the Earl of Lindsey being appointed
“Admiral, Custos Maris, Captain-General and Governor” of the fleet,
with the veteran Sir William Monson as Vice-Admiral, and Sir John
Pennington as Rear-Admiral. It consisted of nineteen of the king’s
ships and five armed merchant vessels, making twenty-four in all;[472]
and though other ten royal ships which were being prepared to reinforce
it were ultimately discharged, it was said by the common people that
“never before had such a fleet been set out by England.” In the
king’s commission appointing the Earl of Lindsey it was stated that
he had thought fit, by the advice of his Council, to set forth to
sea a navy as well for the defence and safety of his own territories
and dominions as for the guard and safe-keeping of his seas, and of
the persons, ships, and goods of his own subjects and of his friends
and allies “trading by sea to and fro our dominions for commerce and
trade, and other their just and necessary occasions, from those spoyles
and depredations committed at sea ... and for sundry reasons and
considerations of state best known to ourselves.”[473]
In the official instructions from the Lords of the Admiralty, issued
on the day after the secret agreement with Spain had been drawn up,
the Earl was ordered principally to guard the narrow seas and the
king’s subjects and allies trading through them, and so to dispose his
ships that “all parts of the seas, as well from the Start westward as
the rest of the Sleeve from the Start to the Downs, and from thence
northward, might be secured from men-of-war, pirates and sea-rovers and
of picaroons that interrupt the trade and commerce of his Majesty’s
dominions.” It was to be his principal care to preserve the king’s
honour, coasts, jurisdiction, territories, and subjects within the
extent of his employment, “that no nation or people whatsoever intrude
thereon or injure any of them.” If he met “in his Majesty’s seas” any
fleet or ships belonging to any foreign prince or state, he was to
expect that the admiral or chief of them, in acknowledgment of his
Majesty’s sovereignty there, should perform “their duty and homage in
passing by”; if they refused and offered to resist, he was “to force
them thereunto, and to bring them in to answer this their high contempt
and presumption according to law.” He was to suffer no dishonour to be
done to the king or derogation to his power or sovereignty in those
seas. If English ships so far forgot their duty as not to strike their
top-sails in passing, the commanders were either to be punished on the
spot or reported to the Admiralty, who would punish them exemplarily.
When he met with foreign men-of-war or merchant vessels, either at sea
or in any road “or other place,” he was to send to them to discover if
any English subjects were serving on board; and if so he was “to cause
them to be taken forth and committed,” to answer their contempt of the
king’s proclamation forbidding such service, and also to caution the
commander of the vessel in which they were found not to receive English
subjects again; but the Earl was expressly forbidden to send any of his
men on board the foreign vessels to search for English subjects.
The most remarkable part of the instructions issued to the first
ship-money fleet referred to the hostilities between the ships of
other nations, not merely in the King’s Chambers, but throughout the
narrow seas. “In this your Lordship’s employment,” wrote the Lords
of the Admiralty, “you are not to permit or suffer any men-of-war to
fight with each other, or men-of-war with merchant, or merchant with
merchant, in the presence of his Majesty’s ships in any part of the
Narrow Seas. But you are to do your best to keep peace in those seas
for the freer and better maintenance of trade and commerce through the
same, so that all men trading or sailing within those his Majesty’s
seas do justly take themselves to be _in pace Domini Regis_. And
therefore his Majesty in honour and justice is to protect them from
injury and violence.”[474]
It is interesting to compare these instructions to Lindsey with those
given earlier to Pennington as admiral of the fleet for the guard
of the narrow seas. His private instructions from the Lords of the
Admiralty in 1631 contained a clause regarding the homage of foreign
vessels on meeting the king’s ships. He was to expect the admiral or
chief, in acknowledgment of the king’s sovereignty in the narrow seas,
“to strike their toppe sayles in passing by,” and if they refused he
was to force them to do so; and in no wise suffer any dishonour to be
done to his Majesty, or derogation to his sovereign power in those
seas. At that time the efforts of Richelieu to create a French navy
had caused some disquiet in England, and Pennington was also ordered
to do his utmost, by spies and otherwise, to discover whether any
considerable preparations were being made abroad.[475] The instructions
in 1631 appear to have represented the English pretensions so far as
they were understood at the time. There was nothing about forbidding
the hostilities of belligerents, as in Lindsey’s instructions. On
the contrary, Pennington was told that if he saw any Hollanders and
Dunkirkers in fight at sea he was to take no part with either, “but to
pass by and leave them to their fortunes”; and he issued orders to his
subordinates to that effect.[476] In his instructions in 1633 this
clause was repeated, but in other respects they resembled those of
Lindsey.[477] The same duties were allotted to him in 1634, and he was
specially charged to free the narrow seas of pirates and sea-rovers,
and to prevent hostilities in the King’s Chambers. “If,” he was told,
“any man-of-war, or other, _in any of his Majesty’s roads, harbours,
or coasts_, shall offer any violence by unduly taking out any ships,
vessels, goods or merchandise, of what nation soever, or commit any
other insolency, you shall do your best to recover the same again from
them, and reform the abuses, either by due admonition, or (if that will
not serve) by bringing the offender to answer to justice, preserving
by all means the honour of his Majesty from such insolencies (as much
as in you lieth), having always a due regard to the amity between his
Majesty, his friends and allies.”[478]
But a change took place, as we have seen, in the following year. Among
the suggestions made by Pennington to the king, and repeated to the
Admiralty, was one that any foreign ship attacked by another foreigner
in the narrow seas might put herself under the protection of any of the
king’s ships by coming under its lee, “in the same manner as under a
castle on shore.”[479] It was certainly a proposal as bold as it was
brilliant. Ships of war have long been regarded by certain writers on
international law as being essentially an extension of the territory of
the state to which they belong; but no writer ever suggested that the
water around them on the high sea should be looked upon as partaking
of the same character. The sea round a king’s ship, within range of
the guns on board, was to be a sanctuary like the waters of the King’s
Chambers,--a sort of territorial girdle which it carried about with
it like an aureole round the head of a saint. Pennington’s suggestion
was considered by the Admiralty early in April 1634, and Nicholas,
the Secretary, was instructed to confer with Sir Henry Marten, the
Judge of the Admiralty Court, with regard to it. Nicholas summed up
his own views oracularly in the sentence, “If a merchant fly from
men-of-war, it concerns the king’s ships to preserve trade.” Sir Henry
Marten gave a clear opinion. “It is not fit,” he said, “nor honourable
for the king’s ships appointed to guard the Narrow Seas to suffer any
men-of-war to fight with each other, or men-of-war with merchants, or
merchant with merchant, in the presence of the king’s ships within the
Narrow Seas, for that the king’s ships are set forth to keep peace in
those seas for the freer and better maintenance of trade and commerce
through the same: and all men trading or sailing within the king’s seas
do justly take themselves to be _in pace Domini Regis_; and since such
are _in pace Domini Regis_, it doth concern the king in honour and
justice to protect them from injury and violence.” The language of the
first part of this statement is the same as in the regulation prepared
a little before with respect to hostilities within the King’s Chambers
(p. 251); but its purport went much further than the recommendation
of Pennington, and in effect extended the protection afforded by the
King’s Chambers, and the regulation applying to them, to the whole of
the narrow seas.
The Admiralty approved of the opinion of Sir Henry Marten, and Nicholas
was directed to embody it in Pennington’s instructions. Before doing
so, however, it was deemed desirable to get the king’s own opinion, and
he was asked by Windebank, at the instance of the Admiralty, whether
Pennington should be instructed not to permit any man-of-war to fight
in the narrow seas in the sight of his Majesty’s ships, while he
commanded there as Admiral. Pennington had then only two ships and two
“Whelps” under his command,--a force quite inadequate to enforce an
innovation so revolutionary,--and Charles apparently did not think the
time or circumstances fitting for it, for the Admiral’s instructions in
1634 were virtually the same as in 1633, except that the clause about
passing by Dutch and Dunkirkers in fight and leaving them to their
fortunes was omitted at the special request of Lord Cottington.[480]
But next year, when the imposing ship-money fleet was ready, Sir H.
Marten’s memorandum was inserted, almost verbatim, in the Earl of
Lindsey’s official instructions.
In addition to the official instructions, the Earl received private
commands from the king. In these the new doctrine as to the sovereignty
of the seas received a new gloss, corresponding to the tenour of
Coke’s despatch to Boswell, and they were clearly intended to embroil
us with the Dutch Republic, as well as with France, and thus enable
Charles to carry out his clandestine agreement with Spain. He was
not to permit the warships of other states to keep guard, or commit
acts of hostility, or take spoil or booty, “within his Majesty’s
seas”; and it was also resolved that the fleet should be employed
in forcing the Dutch herring-busses to take the king’s licenses for
permission to fish, or in interrupting them in their fishing. It was
a common practice for orders of this kind given to naval officers to
be expressed in general or indefinite language, leaving to them the
responsibility of applying them to specific cases according to their
judgment and discretion. Both Pennington in the previous year, and the
Earl of Northumberland in the following year, had to ask for further
and more precise directions. So also did Lindsey now. He wrote to
Charles on receipt of the royal commands, asking a number of questions.
In the first place, he asked that the “bounds of his Majesty’s seas
might be expressed”--a reasonable request, and one frequently made by
naval officers. He was loftily told by Coke, who replied, that “his
Majesty’s seas are all about his dominions, and to the largest extent
of those seas,”--an answer not very illuminating, and of little use
to the Admiral.[481] His second question was whether the ships of the
King of France, or the Archduke, or the Dutch States, might not “lie
to and again” upon their own coasts, as they have anciently done? To
this the reply was that they might stay in their harbours or roads, or
pass “to and again for trade,” but not otherwise. Then he asked whether
the Dutch men-of-war might not lie before Dunkirk, “as they have been
accustomed to do”? (in blockading the port, which belonged to Spain).
For answer, he was curtly referred to his instructions. Then there was
another disturbing suggestion: If no men-of-war were to be permitted
“to lie in the King’s seas,” notice, he said, should be given of the
fact by proclamation or otherwise. He was told that this was already
done--the remark having reference, no doubt, to the despatches sent
to foreign Governments. Finally, he inquired what he should “do with
the herring fishers.” But the patience of Coke appears to have been
exhausted, and no answer at all was given.[482]
It was obviously the intention of Charles to force a quarrel with
France and the Dutch Republic on a point or points connected with the
sovereignty of the sea, which might rouse popular enthusiasm in England
and enable him to attempt to recover the Palatinate for his nephew,
while ostensibly defending the national honour. But the punctilios and
hesitation of Lindsey about the duties before him must have raised
misgivings at Court as to whether the right man had been chosen for the
job. It was not long before this feeling deepened into mortification
and disgust.
The fleet was ready at the beginning of June. Before its setting off
one or two incidents happened which might have seemed ominous to the
superstitious. A shot fired from the Admiral’s ship, in answer to the
salutation of the rest of the fleet as he sailed into the Downs, hit a
poor woman on shore and broke her leg; the same day, during musketry
exercise, a seaman nearly killed a master of the navy,--and these, as
it turned out, were the sole effective warlike operations of the fleet.
On the very day of departure a couple of Dunkirk privateers “were so
insolent” as to set upon a Dutch merchantman in Dover Road, under the
Admiral’s nose and in sight of the fleet, battering the ship, slaying
the gunner, and wounding the men. As an offset, the fleet captured a
small prize from a Dunkirker, which was to be sold for the benefit
of the Fishery Society. Then the Earl himself had been snubbed by
the Admiralty, and left with a flea in his ear. He wanted a vessel
to serve as a “kitchen” to accompany the fleet, and a salary for a
secretary; but there being no precedents, the requests were refused.
Then he complained that he had not enough flags, and above all that he
lacked a standard, which made him “not a little wonder, considering
his commission gave him as much power as a Lord Admiral of England--or
rather more by being General, who is always a representative person of
his prince”; he said he was “a little maimed” without it.[483]
The fleet weighed anchor early on the morning of the 7th June, and
steered down Channel on its mission. At that time a combined Dutch and
French squadron blockaded Dunkirk--France, which in January had entered
into a treaty with the States for an invasion and partition of the
Spanish Netherlands, having declared war against Spain a month before
Lindsey left the Downs. There was thus every prospect of a collision
if the English Admiral carried out the king’s wishes, and both the
Court and the capital were on the tiptoe of expectation of stirring
news. The fleet had scarcely quitted its anchorage when London was full
of rumours. The _Swallow_ got credit for having sent to the bottom a
Dutch man-of-war before she had even left Deptford. A few days later
it was reported that a fight had taken place in the Channel, a violent
cannonade having been heard on the English coast, whereat Charles
looked anxious and moody.[484] But it was only a peaceful salutation
between the English fleet and a Danish man-of-war, “who did their duty”
in passing by. On 12th June “certain news” arrived by express from
Dungeness that a great battle had been fought off Calais, in which the
Hollanders were totally defeated. Authentic despatches from the fleet
soon put an end to such rumours. Very bad weather had been experienced,
which forced them to take shelter at the Isle of Wight; thereafter
they sailed for Portland, having received intelligence that a French
squadron of fourteen sail and a Dutch one of the same number were
there, each flying its national flag.
At a council held on board the Admiral’s ship, it was resolved that
if the Dutch struck when they came up with them and the French did
not, a message was to be sent to the Dutch Admiral “that we did not
expect to see the friends of the king our master in company of them
that do affront him, therefore we desire them, like friends, to stand
by and see the sport.” But there was no “sport,” for when the English
fleet got to Portland on 20th June, the allies had gone; “the same
wind,” wrote Lindsey, “which brought me thither carried them out to
sea” the day before. Learning from the Mayor of Dartmouth that a fleet
of fifty-six sail had been seen off Falmouth on the 19th, the fleet
went off westwards, calling at Plymouth, where it stayed for a few
days. On one occasion they thought they had come up with their quarry.
They espied a great number of ships at a distance, dimly visible in
the morning mist, which made them “provide their guns” and get ready
for action. But they turned out to be only peaceful salt-ships from
Rochelle. Despatches were sent to the Court from Plymouth on 23rd June,
in which Lindsey stated he was going on to Land’s End, “and so to make
a short return from thence.” He also defended himself from complaints
that seem to have been made against him from Dunkirk, apparently owing
to his seizure of the prize for the Fishery Society. He told Windebank
that two or three more Dunkirk men had been brought to him who had
taken prizes from the French, but that he had dismissed them without
meddling with their prizes. And then he added--what must have been
unpleasant reading to Charles--that the king’s instructions had bound
him to carry an equal hand between the subjects of his allies, and from
that “compass” he would not vary. He would perform as friendly offices
to the Dunkirkers as to either the French or the Hollander.
Neither the impartial sentiments of the Admiral nor his proceedings
were approved at Court, where the king was getting impatient. The
summer was passing, and the opportunity of forcing a conflict was
passing with it. He soon learned how his conduct was regarded from
despatches from Coke. Since the Earl went to sea, wrote the bustling
Secretary, the account he had been able to give the king out of his
despatches had been only of a fall from his coach, and of the stay his
fleet had made in the Downs, then near St Helens, and thence of his
plying along the coast to Plymouth, where the Mayor had advised him he
was on Sunday, five days earlier. All this, he said, gave his Majesty
little satisfaction, who expected to hear the fame of his acts in
the open sea, whereof he had committed the custody to his trust. And
though the civil answer sent by the French Vice-Admiral to the Mayor of
Weymouth[485] had been well taken, yet it would have been more for the
king’s honour and the Earl’s also if this office had been done with due
homage to the Earl. And this all the more because there was a common
report that the French had forced some English merchant vessels to
strike sail to them, and that the French and Dutch had visited English
ships,--an act, said Coke, of direct pretence to equal rights in our
seas which the Earl must not suffer; he must not allow English ships to
be visited by the men-of-war of any nation whatsoever, and he must be
careful to protect them from all wrongs. In particular--and the request
should have opened his eyes,--if any English merchant ships came from
the Straits, Spain, or Portugal, with Spanish coin or other commodities
(for Dunkirk), he must take care that no man go on board or interrupt
them. He should convoy English ships in the same way, and for the
honourable execution of his employment he should “strive to keep the
open sea.” Coke concluded by telling him that he “thus freely enlarged
himself” chiefly by the direction of the king, out of his own honour
and interest. In another letter to Viscount Conway, who was on board
the Admiral’s ship and had written a note to Coke of their proceedings,
he used similar language. He did not want to hear of “misinformations,”
but of “noble effects”; he had written to the Admiral whereby he would
“perceive that neither spending time in harbour, nor at anchor, nor
coasting along our shore, would answer the expectation they had of
the fleet.” “You must command the seas or be commanded,” said Coke in
his pompous vein. “Wisdom seeks not danger when with honour it may be
shunned; but where honour and dominion lie at stake, brave men will set
up their rests.”[486]
All which, when he came to know of it, very naturally nettled the
Admiral. He had obtained the information about the allied fleet on 9th
June, three days after he left the Downs, and he had gone in pursuit
as speedily as the weather and the heavy-sailing English vessels would
allow. He was now away at the Scilly Isles, but he failed to see any
French ships, and was duly honoured in the matter of the flag by the
few Dutch men-of-war encountered. He sent further despatches from off
the Lizard on 28th June, explaining his movements, stating that his
ship was leaking, grumbling again about the want of a standard,--“his
commission making him equal to a Lord High Admiral of England,” &c.,
&c.,--and complaining that his letters were not answered. Coke’s letter
awaited him at Plymouth, and in reply to it he said, on 5th July, that
he neither deserved his scorn for a fall in a coach nor his blame for
negligence. Was it his fault that the French sought to avoid him? They
had left the English seas, and they could have done no more if he had
fought with them; but if they came again he should meet and fight
them, time enough. Sir Henry Vane had also written to Conway of the
discontent about the fleet. It was not well taken, he said, that they
did not put over to the coasts of Flanders, Holland, and France,--not
indeed that they should go into the harbours and force them to salute
and strike, but to keep at sea upon these coasts and act according to
their instructions.
Lindsey then stood to sea and plied about in the middle of the
Channel, off the coast between the Lizard and Plymouth, and sometimes
standing over to the coast of France, until the beginning of August,
without finding any trace of the French and Dutch fleet, which was
supposed--and rightly--to be to the southward on the Biscay coast. No
glimpse of the lilies of France could be obtained; not even a pirate
was seen, the presence of the fleet no doubt having scared them from
their haunts in the Channel. On 3rd August Lindsey’s fleet returned
to the Downs for revictualling, what remained of the victuals on board
being very bad,--“the beef is so extremely tainted,” he had written on
21st July, “that when the shifter stirs it, the scent over all the ship
is enough to breed a contagion.” No sooner was he in the Downs than
news came that the French squadron had come back to the English coast,
twenty-six sail of them having been seen about the Lizard. “They haunt
us like a shadow,” murmured the Admiral from his anchorage, “flying
when we pursue, and following when we retreat.”
Lindsey was not far wrong on this occasion, for the withdrawal of the
French ships from the narrow seas on the approach of the English fleet
was due to the sagacious plan of Richelieu. He appears to have been
well aware of the pretext and design of Charles, and endeavoured to
outwit him. At war with Spain, he desired to avert an open rupture
with England. At the same time, it was not fitting that he should
break the tradition of France, or check the maritime ambitions which
aimed at rivalling England on the seas, by lowering the French flag to
the English Admiral. While the Earl was still at the Isle of Wight,
Richelieu ordered the French Admiral to retire with three of his
smallest vessels round Cape Finisterre to Belle Isle, off the coast of
Brittany and well out of the Channel, and to put the rest of the French
squadron under the command of the Dutch Admiral. The French ships
left in the narrow seas were to carry no flags at all, and therefore
could not strike them; and if the combined fleet met the English,
the Admiral of the States would, in his accustomed manner, strike,
without the dignity of France being compromised or Charles being given
the rebuff for which he was seeking.[487] When on the following day
Richelieu learned that the Spanish transports for the relief of Dunkirk
had entered that port, he ordered the combined fleet to withdraw
altogether from the Channel, as their further presence there was
useless and might give occasion for a conflict.[488] Thus it was that
Lindsey could not find them. While Richelieu’s strategy succeeded, the
course adopted was somewhat pusillanimous and not calculated to add
to the laurels of France. He therefore took advantage of an incident
to raise the question of the flag diplomatically with England, in the
hope of having the respective rights of the two nations settled, and
no doubt for other reasons. He complained to Charles that the Earl of
Lindsey--who denied the story--told a Dutch captain of whom he inquired
the whereabouts of the French fleet, that he was “going to make them
lower their colours”;[489] he inquired as to the intentions of the
king, and he proposed that in future the French should salute the
English on the coast of England, and, reciprocally, that the English
should salute the French on the coast of France; while if the fleets
were in the middle of the sea they should either pass one another
without saluting, or the weaker fleet should first salute the stronger.
If Charles did not like these proposals, he was invited to suggest
others.[490] It appears indeed that instructions of a similar tenour
had been actually given to the French Admiral, except that they might
strike to the English when out of sight of the French coast.[491]
Richelieu’s proposals for equality and reciprocity in the narrow seas
were instantly rejected. Coke, in a despatch to the English agents
at Paris, the draft of which was revised by the king, expressed
astonishment that the French ambassador, instead of the negotiation
of a treaty for a confederation between England, France, and the
States-General for the restitution of the Elector Palatine, should
raise “impertinent questions” about the king’s dominion at sea. The
king could enter into no such debate with the French ambassador. But
Coke had assured that personage that the instructions given to the Earl
of Lindsey were no other than had been given in effect in all former
times, and “for near forty years within his own knowledge,”--that the
Admiral should defend and maintain the ancient known rights of the
crown; guard the seas, secure freedom of commerce, suppress pirates,
and oppose hostile acts in prejudice thereof; assist his Majesty’s
friends and allies, attempt no innovation, nor do anything contrary
to his treaties,--and so he presumed that no one would do anything to
impeach his Majesty’s ancient and undoubted rights. But instead of
being satisfied with this “fair answer,” the French ambassador put
into Coke’s hands a regulation he had drawn up, prescribing to both
kings “when and where the one shall vail his bonnet to the other.”
Coke informed the agents that it was hoped this proceeding would be
disavowed; and he instructed them, pending the arrival of the new
English ambassador (Lord Scudamore), to refrain from all discussion
with the French king or his Ministers as to the king’s right to the
dominion of the sea, or about the extent thereof, and to say nothing
further as to the designs of the fleet.[492] Richelieu, who had quite
enough to concern him in the failure of his attack on the Spanish
Netherlands, was content to leave alone the dispute about the flag,
and the French ambassador was requested to say as little as possible
concerning it.[493]
The Earl of Lindsey, failing to find the French fleet and coming to
revictual in the Downs, now bethought himself of the other part of the
king’s private instructions, about the Dutch herring-busses. If he had
been baffled in the attempt to lower the lilies of France, might he
not yet force the herring-boats to take his Majesty’s license before
they cast their nets in his Majesty’s seas? But here, too, obstacles
arose. He wrote to Charles on 2nd August that he had consulted the
ablest men in the fleet, the captains and masters, and they were of
opinion that “his Majesty’s great ships would run much hazard” upon
the northern coasts. Moreover, if the fleet went north, would it not
encourage the French to quit their retreat and “embolden them perhaps
to do that which now standing in awe they forbear to do?” Still, he was
willing to do whatever the king thought best. The king agreed that it
might be better to stay, especially as he thought that before the Earl
could apply himself to that service the fishing season would be past.
Besides, said Coke, who penned the despatch, the fleets his Lordship
had left behind him--“pressing after him,” as he said--were of more
consideration. The king therefore ordered that when the victualling was
completed the fleet should again keep the sea to the westward.[494]
This decision probably saved the Earl of Lindsey, as well as the
king, from further humiliation and disappointment. Even had he at
once sailed to the north, he would have found no Dutch herring-busses
to deal with, any more than he had found the French fleet. For the
Dunkirk privateers, swiftly taking advantage of Richelieu’s withdrawal
of the blockading squadron from their port, had made a bold dash
into the North Sea and overwhelmed the Hollanders off the coast of
Northumberland. More than 100 busses had been sunk or burnt, and 1000
fishermen carried prisoners to Flanders; the rest were in full flight
homewards or pent up in British ports, and the herring-fishing was
ruined for that year.[495]
The calamity soon brought over the Dutch fleet to protect the remaining
busses. Van Dorp, with fourteen French and Dutch men-of-war, arrived in
Calais Road about the middle of August and sailed thence northwards,
thirsting for vengeance on the freebooters. Lindsey detached some
of the ships from his fleet, which lay victualling in the Downs,
for convoys, as well as to punish the “contempt” of the Dutch at
Scarborough (see p. 250), and a few of the smaller vessels were engaged
in looking for “picaroons” in the Straits of Dover. For during the
absence of the fleet, the post-boat between Dover and Dunkirk had been
attacked and pillaged five times within seven weeks, and the packages
containing the king’s letters opened.[496] A French man-of-war, too,
had taken an English ship off Harwich and carried her off to Boulogne.
Such occurrences, and the presence of Van Dorp in the north, delayed
Lindsey’s departure. But on 4th September he again left the Downs with
most of his ships, stood over to Calais and ranged the French coast for
some distance southwards, and then out to sea. Heavy weather coming on,
he had to run for shelter to the Isle of Wight, where the fleet lay
weather-bound, and with much sickness on board, from the 12th till the
29th September. The Admiral then made for the Downs, where he arrived
on 4th October, and on the 8th he struck his flag.[497]
Pennington was left with seven ships for the winter guard of the narrow
seas; and with “private” instructions from the Earl not to suffer any
breach of the peace to be done to any of his Majesty’s allies, nor
to permit his sovereignty to be infringed upon; to give convoys to
merchants when they wished it; to clear his Majesty’s seas of pirates,
and to compel the “due homage of the sea.” Finally, he was to assist
the farmers of the customs, particularly in preventing the smuggling of
tobacco.
It was a fitting close to the first ship-money fleet. The great armada
by which Charles expected to recover the Palatinate, and restore his
sovereignty of the seas to its ancient style and lustre, upon which
the eyes of Europe had been fixed, accomplished practically nothing.
It had snatched a petty prize from a Dunkirk privateer and seized a
Dutch man-of-war in reparation for the “contempt” at Scarborough;
it had convoyed a few vessels, English and Spanish, to Dunkirk, and
as its greatest achievement had caused the blockade of that port to
be raised. No wonder that that tough sea-dog, Sir John Pennington,
when he heard that a still stronger fleet was preparing for the next
year, should exclaim, “God grant they may do more than the present
fleet has done, or the money were as well saved as spent.”[498] No
doubt the fleet had a moral value, if that term can be used about
it, the naval demonstration being an intimation to France and to the
Dutch Republic that Charles was resolved to assert command of the
sea. Whether England could have proved herself mistress of the seas
in 1635, had Lindsey’s fleet been opposed, is problematical. But, at
all events, Charles attained none of his special objects. The sudden
and successful uprising of the Spanish Netherlands against the armies
of France dispelled the fears of Spain, and that power having no
further immediate need of England, the nearly completed alliance came
to naught, and the recovery of the Palatinate was further off than
ever.[499] On the other hand, the Dutch were much irritated. Charles
had denied their right to blockade the Flemish ports against free
commerce,[500] and it was through his action that the privateers had
been able to work such havoc and destruction among the herring-busses.
Something more must be said about one of the duties imposed on
Lindsey, in regard to which it was expected the English fleet would
shine--namely, the homage of the flag. Apart from forcing a number
of merchant vessels, English and foreign, to lower their top-sails,
and some Dutch men-of-war and Dunkirkers, and even one or two of the
French (on the English coast) to strike their flag to the king’s ships,
nothing was accomplished. The politic arrangement of Richelieu foiled
Lindsey and Charles alike, and the great spectacle of the Admiral of
France lowering his flag to the Admiral of England, or giving battle
and refusal, was not witnessed. The disappointment at the English
Court was all the more keen, inasmuch as France, in the treaty of
confederation with the States-General in the beginning of the year, had
stipulated that the Dutch men-of-war should salute the French flag in
the same way as they saluted the flag of England, thus “challenging a
dominion,” as Sir Thomas Roe said, “where anciently they durst not fish
for gurnets without license.”[501]
By this time the question of the striking of the flag had been forced
into great prominence: even the “footpads” of the Channel, the humble
picaroons and shallops, hailed the English ketches which they pillaged
with the cry of “Strike, you English dogs!” It has been shown in a
previous chapter that though the ceremony was enforced in the narrow
seas in the reign of James, it did not then become a burning political
question, and the same is true of the early part of the reign of
Charles. The English commanders were then satisfied with a moderate
acknowledgment of the “honour,” and the Dutch at least rarely ever
contested it. That it was enforced in 1627 appears from the narrative
of the Earl of Warwick’s voyage in that year, when a French man-of-war
was compelled off Falmouth “to come up by the lee,” though nothing is
said about the flag itself.[502] But when France openly aspired to
become a great naval Power, England began to force the salute with
a high hand. It is from the year 1631 that we may date the marked
development of this symbol, as it was claimed to be, of the sovereignty
of the sea. We have already seen Pennington’s instructions in that
year, which, however, only mention the striking of the top-sail; and
although the omission of the flag may have been only verbal, there are
reasons for thinking that the custom and etiquette of the ceremony were
not well understood at the Admiralty. Thus on Pennington reporting
that French men-of-war were trying to force English merchant vessels
to strike to the French flag,[503] he was ordered by the Admiralty “to
see that no one presumes to carry the flag in the Narrow Seas”; all
the more since “some” pretended to have an interest in the sovereignty
of these seas.[504] When Pennington pointed out that this “was more
than ever was done, for our own merchants’ ships and all other nations
ever have and do wear their flags, till they come within shot of the
king’s ships: if they take them in and keep them in till they are out
of shot again, it is as much as has ever been expected,”--when he
told the Admiralty this, he was informed that the “Lords would not
expect impossibilities”--the main business he was to take care of was
to see that no foreigner carried the flag where his Majesty’s ships
were present in the Narrow Seas.[505] Then Captain Plumleigh in the
_Antelope_ reported that on meeting two States’ men-of-war guarding
the herring-fishers off Orfordness, the Admiral had “stood” with the
_Antelope_ with his flag aloft, and did not take it in till several
shots had been fired at him; and when requested to come on board
and explain his conduct, he refused. How, asked Plumleigh, was he
to comport himself in such cases? The matter was brought before the
Admiralty, but no answer appears to have been then given.[506] Two
or three years later Pennington put the same and other queries to the
king. He had been appointed in April 1633 Admiral of the Narrow Seas,
with general instructions already quoted (see p. 262), to preserve the
king’s honour, coasts, and jurisdiction, and to compel homage to the
flag. Pennington asked whether, when a stranger refused to take in
his flag till forced, he should not be “brought in as a delinquent”;
whether, if he met a foreign fleet of far greater strength than his
own, and they refused to take in their flags, he should fight with
them about it “upon so great disadvantage,” or make “a fair retreat”;
whether on going into Calais, Dunkirk, or the Briel--that is to say,
ports in France, Flanders, and Holland--and finding strangers riding
there with their flags aloft, he should force them to take them
in?[507] He also wrote to the Admiralty in 1634 substantially repeating
these inquiries, and asking for a positive or negative expression in
regard to them in his instructions. The Admiralty remitted Pennington’s
letter to Nicholas and Sir Henry Marten to frame answers. The final
opinion on the first point was that by the law of the Admiralty both in
England and France, the ships were forfeited--that is to say, the same
penalty applied as was prescribed in King John’s ordinance. It was,
however, rarely, if ever, carried into effect. The instructions on this
matter usually ran that punishment was to be inflicted at the place,
or the commander brought in to answer his contempt. When the Earl
of Northumberland asked a similar question in 1636, he was told the
offender should be “punished on the place.”[508] In Nicholas’ opinion
much more than the forfeiture of the ship was required; the offender,
he thought, should be brought in as a delinquent, and if he resisted
he should be tried as a pirate; but this absurd interpretation was
overruled.
On the other points it is not quite clear what the final official
answers were. Nicholas thought that when a superior fleet was
encountered, the English Admiral ought not to engage rashly about
the flag; but if he once commanded the foreigners to strike, then
“the ships were better to be lost than his (the king’s) honour and
sovereignty yielded.” The opinion he gave with regard to forcing
foreign vessels to strike in foreign ports was in these words: “For
ye French roades,” he said, “ye king of England’s ships should suffer
none to wear ye flag but themselves: but in other roades after salutes
both may weare ye flag without dishonour.” The exceptional treatment
proposed for ships in French roads may have been in part owing to the
political circumstances of the time, but probably chiefly had reference
to ancient custom and the old claims of England to the soil of France.
Charles still styled himself King of France; and later Selden argued
that though English dominion had been lost in France itself, it
nevertheless extended over the sea up to the very shores. It became the
common practice to enforce the homage on the coast of the Continent,
but not within harbours, ports, rivers, or within buoys, or at any
place under the command of the guns of forts or castles.[509] The Earl
of Northumberland, on repeating Pennington’s question in 1636 as to
Calais, Dunkirk, and the Briel, was told that the homage was to be
exacted “in the roads out of command of any forts.”[510]
There was always some doubt as to the etiquette of the salutation
between ships and forts or castles. Dutch vessels were fired on and
detained at Portland Castle in 1633 for putting up their flags in the
presence of the king’s colours, which were flying on the walls; and
the act was justified to the States’ ambassador when he complained
about it. In the year before, the commanders of the Castles at Deal and
Walmer fired upon a French man-of-war that came in with his flag in
the main-top, because after taking it down when requested, he hoisted
it again on going away. “I gave him five shots,” said the Captain
of Deal, “without hitting him,” and he added that the Council on a
previous occasion approved of a like action against the Dutch, who had
never since offended, but he had never heard of the French attempting
it before. The Admiralty asked Pennington’s opinion as to the proper
course, and he said he thought that all the ships of his Majesty’s
subjects and of foreigners and strangers should strike their flags and
top-sails as they passed by any of his Majesty’s castles; such, he
said, was the custom in all parts of Christendom, “which, being done,
they may ride under the castles with their colours flying abroad if
there be none of the king’s own ships present.” The king’s castles had
thus not so high a status as the king’s ship; but the military officers
were not less zealous than those of the navy. Pennington himself
had an amusing illustration of their zeal, for in 1631 Sir William
Killigrew, the Captain of Pendennis Castle, persisted in “spending
the king’s powder” in shooting at the _Bonaventure_, Pennington’s
ship, for not striking its flag to the castle,--“a thing,” said the
Admiral, “never used by a king’s ship, nor would he be the beginner of
it.” Fortunately, the gunnery of the time was wild; but Killigrew had
to be summoned before the Admiralty, rebuked, and, “upon submission,
discharged with strict command never more to offend in that kind,”
before the practice ceased. The Admiralty also issued an order to the
notorious Sir James Bagg, the Governor of Plymouth and the Vice-Admiral
for South Devon, strictly forbidding that any castle or fort under his
command should fire upon the king’s ship, even if passing near with
their flags on the top of any of their masts, “for,” he was told, “they
are as absolutely his Majesty’s castles or forts, though floating, as
that under your command.”[511]
As was to be expected from the attempted maritime rivalry openly
displayed by France, and from English policy at the time, our naval
officers vied with one another in compelling homage to the flag. The
Dutch, both merchant vessels and men-of-war, more particularly the
latter, usually struck at once to the English ships. If they showed
reluctance, or hoisted their flag again too soon, they were fired at.
The English captains insisted on the right off Continental ports. Thus
Captain Richard Plumleigh, having gone to Calais in 1632 to bring over
the corpse of Sir Richard Walker, late British ambassador, in his
ship--well named the _Assurance_,--“bestowed some powder on the French
flags,” and caused all the French shipping in Calais Road to take in
their colours, “at which,” he said, “they repined heavily.” Some of
the States’ men-of-war also riding in the Road took the side of the
French, and sent to Plumleigh to say that they knew no reason why he
should demand superiority on that side of the sea, and “threatening”
to wear their flags there as well as he. But Plumleigh boldly returned
a message--what he called “a cooling card”--to their Admiral, saying
that if he showed a Dutch flag there, he “would sink him or be sunk by
him,” which caused him to keep his colours close.[512] In the following
year, Captain Ketelby, of the _Bonaventure_, was sent to Boulogne to
bring over another ambassador (Lord Weston), and finding the Admiral
of Amsterdam in the Road with his flag up, he “gave her a shot,” when
she struck it and presently hoisted it again. Ketelby then sent his
lieutenant to command him to take in his flag or prepare to defend it.
The Dutch Admiral argued, and kept it up till Ketelby was preparing to
shoot again, when he took it in. Two days later another Dutch admiral,
this time the Admiral of Holland, came into the Road with ten or twelve
ships of war; within a reasonable distance he struck his flag twice
and saluted with seven pieces, and then he also hoisted it again.
Ketelby “conceived this homage not sufficient,” and notwithstanding
the disparity of force, sent him a command to take in his flag, which
he did, and kept it in till the _Bonaventure_ departed. Such incidents
show both the domineering conduct of the English captains and the
forbearance and good sense of the Dutch, who acted in obedience to
the strict orders they had received to strike to the English ships.
But nearer home Ketelby had not so much glory. On returning with the
ambassador he met ten sail of Hollanders on the English coast between
Dover and Folkestone, one, a States’ man-of-war, bearing his flag on
the main-top, while a merchant vessel had his top-sails “a-trip.” Both
were obdurate as to rendering the accustomed homage, and in spite of
the fact that Ketelby sent twenty shot “in and through” the sides of
the merchantman, she would not lower her sails in the least.[513]
In many instances peaceful merchant vessels suffered greatly over this
question of striking. During the cruise of Lindsey’s fleet, Dutch
men-of-war, and also a Danish warship, struck without hesitation, even
at Calais. So also as a rule did the merchant vessels; but sometimes
they transgressed the rule, it might be from ignorance, and then
they were exposed to harsh treatment. Thus, three great ships of
Amsterdam bound for Pernambuco, on meeting the _Constant Reformation_
off Plymouth, did everything required of them; but hoisting their
sails before they got clear of the _Vanguard_, the latter gave them
six pieces of ordnance, twice sending a cannon-ball through the hull
of one of them. Then for a similar reason, too great an alacrity in
re-hoisting her flag, another Hollander was shot through with five
pieces by the _Rainbow_. So anxious were the English officers to compel
the homage that they sometimes demanded it at night. The _Freeman_,
returning from convoying merchant-ships to Dunkirk, met in the
night-time a fleet of Dutch merchantmen with one convoy accompanying
them, and shot to make them strike. In the darkness the traders took
the English ship for a Dunkirk privateer and made what haste they could
away. The States’ man-of-war, coming up to the rescue, approached
so near the _Freeman_ before she discovered what she was (and then
immediately struck) that a collision occurred, the bowsprit of the
English ship being broken, while her anchor carried away the Dutchman’s
chains and stays. The Dutch captain then came on board, humbly asked
pardon for what had happened, excused himself by the night and the
mistake, offered to go before the Lord Admiral, and paid for the
bowsprit and the shot.[514]
While the Dutch were thus forbearing, the Dunkirkers, the _protégés_
of Spain, for whom Charles was supposed to be making sacrifices, were
refractory. They refused to strike to the _Vanguard_ lying at anchor
off Gravelines, although it fired many times at them: before the anchor
could be got up they were off, and it was useless to follow. They
sent a message that they did not care for the English now, and would
not strike. On the other hand, just as Lindsey reached the Downs at
the beginning of October, Captain Stradling in the _Swallow_ met the
French Admiral, for whom the Earl had been searching all summer, off
Falmouth with two ships. He immediately shot at him, and he struck his
top-sails and saluted. But this was on the English coast, and was not
contrary to Richelieu’s instructions. The French, on their part, a week
or two afterwards forced an English merchant vessel to strike “for the
king of France.”[515]
Perhaps the worst offenders of all were the British merchantmen.
Again and again the naval commanders complained to the Admiralty of
their remissness or neglect to strike, which they said set a very bad
example to foreigners. Pennington reported to the king that they passed
his ships in the narrow seas, not only without speaking, but even
“presumptuously wearing their flag at the topmast head” until forced
to take it in; and he recommended the king to issue a proclamation
commanding all ships to speak with the king’s ships and give an account
of themselves, or be subject to fine and punishment. Pennington asked
what he was to do if any of the king’s subjects were so stubborn as not
to strike their flag and top-sails in due time: “I meane,” he said,
“soe soone as they come within distance of our ordynaunce.” On this
Sir Henry Marten recommended that when an English ship did not strike
in time, the naval captain should complain to his Admiral or to the
Admiralty. He was strongly of opinion that too much discretion should
not be left to the naval officers in this matter. It was, he said,
too much to hazard an English ship being sunk or English lives lost
on a point on which a mistake might easily be made.[516] The official
instruction given to the officers was either to punish the offenders
themselves or to report them to the Admiral or to the Admiralty.
Neglectful merchant vessels were sometimes severely punished. In April
1632, when Lady Strange and a large party of Lords, with a great
retinue, went on board Pennington’s ship, the _Convertive_, lying in
Tilbury Hope, a merchant ship, the _Matthew_ of London, passed up the
river “in an insolent manner,” not striking his flag until he had come
up with the _Convertive_, and soon hoisting it again notwithstanding
the shots Pennington fired at him. For this the master was lodged in
jail, and was only released on expressing his contrition to the Lords
of the Admiralty. The Earl of Lindsey took a sharper course in a
similar case. On returning to the Downs, no doubt irritated from his
failure and smarting under Coke’s gibes, he pounced upon two English
merchantmen who had presumed to wear their flags within full view of
the fleet, “almost within command of shot,” and in the presence of
nearly 200 sail of British and foreign ships. The masters were at once
seized, brought on board and put in custody, and a day or two later, a
council of war having been called and Sir H. Marten consulted, one of
them, William Bushell of Limehouse, captain of the _Neptune_, was fined
£500, and the other, Thomas Scott of Ratcliffe, was fined £100, for so
gross a misdemeanour.[517]
From the foregoing it is evident that in those days peaceful merchant
vessels traversing the narrow seas had not a very happy time. It must
often have been irksome in the extreme to the masters, probably not
always understanding the minutiæ of the rules,--which, indeed, the
naval captains themselves sometimes failed fully to comprehend,--to
render due and proper homage to the English flag. To compel foreign
men-of-war to salute the king’s ships was a different matter. It
flattered the national vanity and kept alive the national aspiration
for power on the sea, and it did not interfere with the duties of the
men-of-war which gave the salute. But to the merchantman anxious for
his voyage, often undermanned and contending with turbulent seas, it
must have been vexatious to be called upon every now and again to lower
his top-sails to a king’s ship, or take the risk of a shot through his
sides or a heavy fine. The inconvenience led later to a modification in
the practice, so far as concerned English vessels, it being insisted
on only “when it could be done without loss of the voyage”;[518]
but it may be said here that the regulation with regard to merchant
vessels striking to a man-of-war was always afterwards embodied in the
Admiralty instructions, offenders being reported to the Admiralty, and
proceedings often taken against them in the Admiralty Court.[519]