CHARLES II.--_continued_.
THE THIRD DUTCH WAR.
The “honour of the flag” and the sovereignty of the sea were now
about to gain a shameful notoriety in connection with the third Dutch
war, which Charles, from the basest personal motives and in the most
treacherous manner, suddenly sprang upon the Republic. At that time,
and for long afterwards, European policy turned upon the ambitious
designs of Louis XIV. Laying claim to the Spanish dominions, he overran
the Low Countries in 1667 with an army of 40,000 men. The rapidity of
the conquest and the display of formidable military power filled Europe
with alarm; and the United Provinces, which lay nearest the scene
of danger, were thrown into apprehension as to their own safety. In
England popular feeling was very hostile to France, and Charles, after
some hesitation, despatched Sir William Temple to The Hague to conclude
an alliance against France, which he succeeded in accomplishing in
a few days--in January 1668,--and it was adhered to by Sweden. The
Triple Alliance thus formed was hailed with enthusiasm in England,
and it abruptly and effectually checked Louis in the execution of his
plans. Deeply mortified, the French king bent his energies and talents
to detach Charles from the League, in order to wreak his vengeance on
the Dutch Republic, and he succeeded even better than he expected.
Charles was deeply in debt, and the expenses of his Court were heavy.
His relations with the Parliament were becoming strained and difficult.
Mistrust was growing up between him and his subjects, and, mindful of
the fate of his father, he thought it prudent to secure in secret a
wealthy and powerful ally lest rebellion again broke out in England.
Within a year of the signing of the Triple Alliance Charles was gained
over by France, and the compact was sealed in the disgraceful secret
treaty of Dover in May 1670. Under the treaty Charles was to receive a
large yearly pension from Louis, and aid in case of insurrection; he
was to avow and re-establish the Roman Catholic religion in England
when it could be done with safety; and he was to begin hostilities
against the Dutch Republic when Louis required him by furnishing 4000
men and fifty ships of war, for which he was to receive a subsidy of
£120,000, and to gain as his share of the spoils of conquest Walcheren,
Sluys, and Cadsand. Louis crowned the dishonourable compact with the
appropriate gift of a new mistress to his royal ally--Mademoiselle de
Kerouaille, afterwards the Duchess of Portsmouth, who well served the
interests of France.[881]
In order to carry out his part of the iniquitous bargain, it was
necessary for Charles, as the vassal of France, to deceive his subjects
and his Parliament as well as his public ally, the Dutch Republic. He
had first to get money for the armaments, for which the subsidy from
France was insufficient, and he had then to discover some pretext
for the war which would make it least objectionable to the English
people. For the former purpose he resorted to a bold subterfuge. The
sentiment of both the Parliament and the people was hostile to France,
and advantage was taken of this circumstance to obtain a subsidy under
false pretences. When Parliament met in October 1670 the Lord Keeper,
by the king’s commands, made a speech on the state of public affairs,
in which he enlarged on the king’s need of supply; pointed to the
great strengthening of the French navy and the decay of our own; urged
the necessity of fitting out in the ensuing year a fleet of fifty
sail; and dwelt upon the obligations placed upon the king by several
treaties to exert himself for the good of Christendom, mentioning among
others the Triple Alliance and the League with the United Provinces.
The trick succeeded. Parliament, uneasy at the recent journey of
Louis to Flanders and the naval preparations in France, voted a sum of
£800,000.[882]
It was also indispensable to foment ill-feeling against the Dutch,
and to devise disputes with them so as to prepare the way for a
rupture. Some time before this, at Genoa, a Dutch commander, Captain
Braeckel, who had led the attack on the English ships at Chatham in
1667, had hoisted under the Dutch colours some English flags which he
had taken on that occasion, in derision of the English in the port.
Charles demanded reparation and the punishment of Braeckel; and the
States-General ultimately ordered the trophies to be given up, and sent
them to London.[883] Later, the king complained that the States-General
had allowed him and the English people to be insulted by lampoons,
medals, &c., commemorating the exploits of the Dutch fleet in the
Thames in 1667, the king suing for peace at Breda, and so forth. The
States-General, when the king continued to press these complaints,
seized all copies of certain lampoons and destroyed the dies of several
of the medals. Charles then boldly accused the Grand Pensionary De Witt
of having carried on a confidential correspondence with France with
the object of inducing that Power to take up arms against England.
The accusation was meant to prejudice the Dutch in the eyes of the
Parliament; and the States, to prove their sincerity, sent fresh
proposals for an alliance, to which Charles replied that they should
first have offered him subsidies. The apprehension of the States that
the king was inclined to force a quarrel on them was not lessened by
intelligence they received that he had abandoned the Triple Alliance,
and especially by the recall of Sir William Temple from The Hague in
1670,--a step that followed the seizure of Lorraine by Louis.
Affairs were ripening to the wished-for crisis, and Charles now
sought for a decisive pretext, which, while making war inevitable,
would lessen its unpopularity in England. Such a pretext was to be
found in the “honour of the flag.” No cry was more likely to rouse
resentment in the people than that the flag had been insulted and the
sovereignty of the sea threatened. To insult the flag was to insult
the nation. The king was well aware from the repeated declarations
of the States-General that they would never willingly acknowledge
England’s sovereignty of the sea: they had said they would “rather die
first.” He was also doubtless fully acquainted with the fixed opinion
of the Grand Pensionary that to claim that the whole Dutch fleet should
strike to a single frigate or a ketch was “intolerable.” He contrived
his measures accordingly, and decided to send one of his yachts to pass
through the States’ fleet, on their own coast, and to fire upon them if
they did not strike their flags in the accustomed manner. The matter
was deliberately considered. The clause in the treaty of Breda was not
very clear as to whether a yacht, or even a man-of-war, could compel
the whole Dutch fleet to strike, and on the Dutch coast. Just about
the time Temple returned from The Hague, Sir Leoline Jenkins, Judge of
the High Court of Admiralty, wrote a confidential letter to Sir Thomas
Allin, the commander of the Blue, asking him to find out secretly,
“as if for his own satisfaction,” whether there were any “ancient
seamen” at Trinity House or elsewhere who were on board the _Happy
Entrance_ when it carried the Earl of Arundel to Holland in 1636, and
if so, whether they remembered that on entering the road of Goeree,
in Holland, Admiral Tromp, who was at anchor there, struck his flag
to it; and similar information was asked in regard to other cases of
like import in 1637 and later. The question was also put to Sir Thomas,
“How far the British Sea, or British Ocean, does in common reputation
extend itself; and whether all that which washes the coasts of the Low
Countries, as well as that which runs upon the French coast, has been
anciently deemed and reputed to be British Sea?” Jenkins explained that
he had been desired by the king to obtain proof of the striking of the
flag as secretly as possible; and the two chief points were, (1) “Had
not the French and the Dutch always struck to the king’s flag even on
their own coasts? and (2) that a single ship of ours, if commissioned
for war, though never so inconsiderable in its strength, did make
whole squadrons and fleets of the neighbouring nations to strike,
and particularly the Spaniards near the Spanish Netherlands and the
subjects of the United Provinces near their coasts?”[884]
The reference to the French and Spaniards was no doubt meant to conceal
the real significance of the inquiry. The reply of the admiral seems
not to have been preserved, but a later memorandum of Jenkins answers
the questions as to the striking of the flag at Goeree, and in the
other cases, in the affirmative. The Trinity House, whose opinion was
also asked, said that it had been commonly received by them from their
predecessors that the British seas “extend to Cape Finisterre, or the
North Cape” (_sic_), and that the sea which washes the coast of the Low
Countries and France had been always reputed part of the British seas.
“To know how far it does extend northwards,” they ingenuously added,
“we desire you will please to consult those authors who have treated
on that subject, it not being known to a certain by us.”[885] They had
been unable to meet with any persons who knew about the alleged cases
of striking, so that Jenkins must have obtained the information about
them from other sources.
There can be no doubt that Charles was advised by the authorities he
consulted on the ambiguous points in the article of Breda that (1) any
king’s ship, however small, commissioned for war, was a “man-of-war”
in the sense of the treaty, and could call upon the whole Dutch fleet
to strike; (2) that the British seas included those washing the coasts
of the United Provinces; and (3) with respect to the previous custom
referred to in the treaty, that the Dutch had struck on their own
coasts.
Thus fortified in law and precedent, the way was clear for Charles to
pick a quarrel with the States about the striking of the flag, and
he despatched, not a man-of-war, nor even a frigate, but his yacht,
the _Merlin_, for the purpose. Ostensibly it was sent to bring over
Lady Temple, who had, by his wish, remained in Holland since her
husband’s departure, but with orders to pass through the Dutch fleet
then cruising in the Channel, and to fire at them until they struck
their flags or fired back at the _Merlin_. As the French ambassador,
who was in the secret, tersely put it to his Court, “the captain is
to use all his powder, so as to give good cause for a quarrel.” The
_Merlin_ on her way to Holland passed through the Dutch fleet, but
owing to a heavy gale she could not get near enough to execute the
king’s commands. She appears, however, to have met two Dutch men-of-war
convoying the herring-busses, who exchanged guns with her but did
not strike their flag.[886] But in returning, early in August, with
Lady Temple on board, the _Merlin_, with the royal standard flying,
came upon the States’ fleet lying at anchor beyond the Goodwins, six
leagues from the coast of Zealand and sixteen leagues from England. The
little yacht, while still at a distance, began to fire at the Dutch
flagship. De Ruyter did not reply at once, but the Lieutenant-Admiral,
Van Ghent, thinking that it was merely a question of the salute,
returned the guns in the usual manner, and was not a little surprised
to receive for his pains a discharge of cannon-balls. He sent an
officer on board the yacht for an explanation, and Captain Crow, the
commander of the _Merlin_, informed him that he had been sent to bring
the English ambassadress with her family from Holland, and had orders
to make the Dutch fleet lower their colours wherever he met with it.
On hearing this, Van Ghent, on the pretext of paying a compliment to
Lady Temple, whom he had frequently met at The Hague, went himself on
board the _Merlin_. He told Captain Crow that the point he had raised
was one on which he had received no orders from the States, and that
he could not concede the claim without express commands. He declared
his willingness to pay due respect to the English flag according to the
former practice, but he thought it could scarcely be contended that
the admiral and the whole fleet should strike on their own coast to a
single vessel, and that vessel a yacht, which was only a pleasure-boat,
or at least served only for a passage, and could not pass for a
man-of-war. It was at all events, he said, a question which should
first be submitted to inquiry by the two Governments.
Captain Crow was puzzled and perplexed, and on Van Ghent’s departure he
appealed to Lady Temple as to what he should do. She, seeing he did not
relish his job and would be glad to get out of it by her help, shrewdly
told him that he knew his orders best and what he ought to do, and
begged him not to mind her or her children. After firing another gun,
the _Merlin_ continued her voyage to England, leaving the Dutch fleet
with their flags displayed, and without having fired a single angry
shot in reply. Very naturally, Charles was irritated at the miscarriage
of his plan. He had hoped for a sharp and unequal contest about the
flag, the news of which would have rung from end to end of England and
enabled him to drag the country into war to resent the affront. Crow
was thrown into the Tower, “for refusing to do his duty towards the
Dutch men-of-war who refused to strike to the king’s flag.” The Privy
Council debated whether a frigate, the other class of vessel to whose
status De Witt had objected, should not be hastily despatched to the
Dutch fleet to draw the spark which the _Merlin_ had failed to elicit,
by firing on every ship that refused to take in her flag. Probably
the device was deemed to be too transparent; but it was rumoured that
the captain of the _Reserve_, which left Deal a few days later for
Portsmouth, had received instructions to fight the Dutch fleet if he
met them and they did not strike,--a rumour which, it was reported,
“deads the hearts of people lest we should have war with Holland.”
Meanwhile, Sir Leoline Jenkins was requested to inquire into the
case of the _Merlin_, presumably to see what could be made of it. He
examined Lady Temple and others, and drew up a memorandum embodying
the information he had received as to the extent of the British
seas and the precedents of striking to the English flag off foreign
coasts.[887] After citing the precedents at Goeree and elsewhere, he
expressed an opinion against calling witnesses in such cases “for fear
of chicane,” declaring that we had “a constant uninterrupted possession
of the prerogative, with the highest notoriety that public immemorial
reputation can give, in the British seas, and that the onus of making
proof as to the non-use and enjoyment of it in some certain places or
rencounters, as for instance the Dutch coast, or when a small sail of
ours met a fleet of theirs, was cast by the law and by reason upon
our opposers.”[888] The English Government did not make any immediate
protest to the States-General about Van Ghent’s refusal to strike to
the yacht, possibly lest they might proffer satisfaction and dispose
of the episode; but Charles boldly told the Dutch ambassadors that he
thought the conduct of their admiral had been premeditated.
Up to this time the Dutch had failed to discern the danger which was
approaching. After the _Merlin_ incident indeed, as Temple tells us,
the Dutch ambassadors in London, “with as ill noses as they have,
began to smell the powder after the Captain’s shooting.” But relying
on the well-known animosity of the English people and Parliament to
France, and their aversion to a rupture of the Triple Alliance, they
fondly clung to the belief that the incident was one of the temporary
misunderstandings about the flag which would be readily cleared up. The
States-General were equally undiscerning, and perhaps a little more
obtuse. They adopted a course which, however proper it might have been
under other circumstances, now served only to play into the hands of
Charles. A manifesto was prepared declaring that by the terms of the
treaties with England the salute was to be regulated according to the
custom in the past; that it could not be claimed except in British
waters, where--as their High Mightinesses thought it well to remind the
king--it was offered only as a mark of courtesy, and not in recognition
of England’s pretension to the sovereignty of the sea. And in order
that their intention might be perfectly clear, they instructed De
Ruyter to draw up a set of rules prescribing the salute to be given
in future by the Dutch fleet to English or French men-of-war on the
Dutch coast, which was to be confined to the exchange of guns without
striking the flag at all.
Thus, by their own maladroitness as it happened, the States were drawn
into precisely the dispute that Charles had been longing for--a dispute
about the flag and the sovereignty of the sea. He replied by sending
Downing to The Hague, in December 1671, as ambassador extraordinary,
with a sheaf of peremptory and intolerable demands. The choice of the
ambassador was in itself significant of much, for Downing was known to
be repugnant to the States-General, partly from his overbearing and
quarrelsome disposition, still more because of his unconcealed enmity
to the Dutch people. He was to demand free trade for the English in
the Dutch plantations in the Indies; redress and satisfaction for
the pamphlets and medals insulting to the king; above all, he was to
present to the States-General a memorial requiring that they should
“solemnly and clearly acknowledge, in writing, the king’s right to the
dominion of these seas, and that they neither do nor will dispute it,
but expressly engage themselves that all ships or fleets of theirs,
however numerous, shall, upon warning given by any ship or ships of
war, carrying English colours, of what rate or bigness soever, strike
their top-sails and lower their flags, as has been ever practised.”
As a pendicle to this, he was to demand that Van Ghent should be
“exemplarily punished for the insolent affront done by him to a small
English man-of-war [the _Merlin_] in refusing to strike.” If within a
fortnight no answer was received to this “memorial,” Downing was to
present a sharp and peremptory note demanding an immediate reply, and
if he did not get it within another week, he was instantly to quit The
Hague, without giving any notice of his intention to go.
While Downing was away on his explosive mission, Boreel, the Dutch
ambassador in London, was beguiled with smooth words in order to lull
the States-General into a feeling of security. On the eve of his
departure, Downing told him he was going to The Hague with the object
of strengthening the good understanding between the two countries, and
Charles treated the ambassador with the most friendly courtesy. The
ease with which the Dutch were being hoodwinked caused much amusement
in Paris. But Charles was not yet quite ready. He needed a great deal
more money than what was left of the £800,000 which the House of
Commons had voted. Afraid to summon Parliament again, or to levy taxes
under the prerogative as Charles I. had levied the ship-money, he had
recourse to the daring expedient of closing the Exchequer, by which
he robbed the public creditors of some £1,200,000, causing widespread
ruin and commercial panic. A little later, on 21st January 1672, the
first quarterly instalment of the subsidy of three million livres from
Louis was landed at Rye, and escorted to the Tower by forty men of the
Guards and a trumpeter. Now in possession of ample supplies, Charles
hastened to throw aside the mask. Downing played his arrogant part
at The Hague, refusing to allow any debate as to the justice of his
demands. When he suddenly called for his passports, the States-General
began to awaken to a truer sense of their position, menaced as they
also were by imminent peril from France. Adopting the advice of the
deluded Boreel, that by yielding on the question of the flag they would
remove any inclination the English people had for war with them, since
England really cherished enmity against France, the States-General
agreed to comply with the claims of Charles respecting the salute. The
concession was still joined with the offensive proviso that they gave
it only as a mark of respect to a powerful monarch: it was, moreover,
to be conditional on the maintenance of the Triple Alliance. Downing
told them the offer came too late, and slunk away home, reaching London
on 6th February, where the king, displeased with his management of the
affair, sent him to the Tower “for not having obeyed the orders sent
him.”
The flight of Downing threw the States-General into consternation.
Meerman, previously their ambassador at the English Court, was
despatched in haste to London to renew the offer about the flag, to
agree to the dismissal of Van Ghent, and to tender large subsidies
for the king’s privy purse. At the audience with Meerman and Boreel,
Charles skilfully evaded their proposals and expressed surprise that
they had not submitted a formal signed paper. This they made haste to
do, and they were then informed that it was ambiguous and obscure,
but in what particulars they could not learn. They next submitted a
draft to Arlington and Lauderdale, the English commissioners appointed
to treat with them, with the request that they might amend it as
they thought fit, but they were haughtily told that it was none of
their business to draw up papers for the Dutch. Finally, they signed
a written engagement to give satisfaction about the flag, but at the
conference appointed for its reception the English refused to consider
it, saying the time for negotiations was now past.[889]
The time was now obviously ripe for a declaration of war; but Charles
before taking this step had resolved on an audacious and treacherous
stroke, by which he hoped to gain much plunder for himself while
diminishing the resources of the Dutch. In spite of the solemn
obligations of treaties for the temporary security of their shipping
even if war broke out, it was decided to attack and capture Dutch
merchant vessels in time of peace. Here also a ready excuse might
be found by contriving disputes about the striking of the flag. As
early as 26th January, Sir Robert Holmes sent an express to Arlington
recommending the seizure of a Dutch fleet laden with salt and wine,
which lay wind-bound at the Isle of Wight, under the convoy of three
or four States’ men-of-war. He said that in Holland there was a great
scarcity of salt, and that without it they could not carry on their
fishery or provide for their garrisons; the capture of the salt fleet
would thus overwhelm them in ruin even greater than would the loss of
their East Indian fleet. But ships were apparently not ready for this
venture--and, besides, it was not salt that Charles wanted. On 18th
February orders were sent to the Mediterranean to take and sell, or to
destroy, all Dutch shipping. On 5th March Charles wrote to the Duke
of York commanding that, as he had received many indignities from the
States-General, and his demand for reparation against one of their
subjects who refused to strike his flag remained unanswered, such
men-of-war as were ready at Portsmouth should immediately put to sea
and seize and bring into port, with their cargoes intact, any Dutch
vessels they met with, and destroy those that resisted. Another royal
command on the following day included Hamburg vessels in the piratical
order, since Dutch ships often sailed under that flag; and in this
missive, as a sort of moral salve, the king announced that he had
resolved to make war on the States-General.
The first capture was made on 8th March, and when Boreel demanded
restitution, he was told, boldly but incautiously, that the Dutch ships
would be seized everywhere. The Cadiz fleet returning to the United
Provinces had a very narrow escape, having passed up Channel on the day
Holmes received his instructions. On the next day, 13th March, off the
Isle of Wight, he fell in with the Smyrna fleet of fifty-six merchant
vessels returning home from the Mediterranean with rich cargoes of
silks, plate, cochineal, gums, &c., estimated to be worth over a
million pounds. It was upon this fleet that Charles had been counting.
Eleven States’ men-of-war acted as convoy to the merchantmen, many of
which were also heavily armed as fighting ships. To deal with this
formidable force Holmes at first had only five ships, having failed to
effect a junction with Spragge’s squadron, from the selfish design,
it was alleged, of keeping the prize-money among as few as possible.
The Dutch fleet, which had been warned of their danger by Boreel, were
on the alert. On the approach of the English the armed vessels moved
into line to protect the defenceless merchantmen. Lord Ossory, in the
_Resolution_, bore up to the Dutch vice-admiral and gave him a “warning
piece” to strike his flag, and as he took no notice of it, Ossory
gave him another and “placed it in him.” Sir Robert Holmes, in the _St
Michael_, treated Captain Adrian de Haas, who commanded the convoy, in
the same way, and when the latter sent his lieutenant on board the _St
Michael_ to ascertain the cause of shooting, he was promptly clapped
into the hold, “having, it seems,” as the English official account
says, “given some saucy language to Sir Robert.”[890] The _St Michael_
then poured in a broadside and the fight began. It continued until
night, and was resumed on the following day, when Holmes was reinforced
by three other ships, and on the day after that, as the Dutch fleet
made its way up the Channel, defending itself with the greatest valour.
The English were hopelessly outnumbered. They sank one Dutch man-of-war
and captured another, with four or five of the merchant vessels, but
all the others safely reached port. The English ships which were beaten
off were so terribly battered and cut up that they could scarcely make
their way back to the Downs. On the _St Michael_ alone thirty-four men
were killed and fifty-six wounded, as well as “a great many” missing.
Charles was deeply disappointed at losing the booty on which he
had calculated. He was further annoyed when he found he could not
confiscate the whole of the cargoes actually taken, and which Holmes
with vainglorious exaggeration boasted “would give him credit for
£200,000 at least.” When the question came to be decided whether the
captured ships were lawfully good prize, Holmes and his officers
showed the greatest reluctance to be examined. Included in the cargoes
were goods belonging to Spaniards and subjects of other nations, but
notwithstanding this the Council wished to confiscate everything.
Sir Leoline Jenkins, Judge of the High Court of Admiralty, opposed
this design with great energy. The confiscation of Dutch ships and
property in time of peace might be colourably made under the pretence
that the owners refused to strike their flag and were the aggressors.
But to condemn neutral goods on board as lawful prize would be, Sir
Leoline said, to introduce “a new law of war, not so honourable for
us to endure from others when his Majesty shall be at peace and his
neighbours at war.” He declared that no hostile act of the Dutch,
supposing them the aggressors, could involve a stranger not party to
it, before a public declaration of war; and as he threatened to resign
his office if the course was persisted in, the Council gave way, and
restitution was made of the property of neutrals.[891]
The iniquity of this shameful and deliberate attack on Dutch shipping
in time of peace was not extenuated or obscured by the plea of the
English Ministry that it had been caused by the obstinacy of the Dutch
in refusing to strike the flag. The opinion of Europe was expressed in
the remark of a French diplomatist at one of the German Courts, that
“when the king, his master, made war on the States-General, he would
not do so like a pirate.” An immediate result of the onslaught on the
Smyrna fleet was to convince not only the States-General, but the
French Court, that Charles was in earnest, and the formal declaration
of war could not be longer delayed. On 17th March 1672, the day after
Churchill brought the tidings to London, an Order in Council was issued
to print and publish the declaration of war against the States-General.
In this long, verbose, and rhetorical document of eight pages Charles
tried hard to justify his flagrant violation of treaties. The real
reason of the war could not be avowed, but every complaint that had
at any time been levelled against the Dutch was now dragged forth,
accusation being piled on accusation. The accumulated charges connected
with the East Indies, the West Indies, and Surinam were revived and
aggravated; the safety of trade, upon which the wealth and prosperity
of the English people depended, was in danger; the king and nation were
declared to have been insulted by lampoons and caricatures. But, as
was to be expected from the antecedents, a principal ground of rupture
was found in the flouting by the Dutch of the right of England to the
honour of the flag and the sovereignty of the sea. “The right of the
flag,” the king declared, “is so ancient that it was one of the first
prerogatives of our royal predecessors, and ought to be the last from
which this kingdom should ever depart. It was never questioned, and
it was expressly acknowledged in the treaty of Breda; and yet this
last summer it was not only violated by their commanders at sea, and
that violation afterwards justified at The Hague, but it was also
represented by them in most Courts of Christendom as ridiculous for us
to demand. An ungrateful insolence! That they should contend with us
about the dominion of these seas, who, even in the reign of our royal
father, thought it an obligation to be permitted to fish in them,
by taking of licenses and for a tribute.” Notwithstanding all these
provocations, the king continued, he had patiently waited expecting
satisfaction. To the memorials sent to them they had at last replied to
this effect: “That in this conjuncture they would condescend to strike
to us, if we would assist them against the French; but upon condition
that it should never be taken for a precedent hereafter to their
prejudice.” The concluding negotiations were mendaciously summarised by
saying that after the return of Downing the States-General sent over an
extraordinary ambassador, who declared he could give no satisfaction
till he had consulted his masters. “Wherefore,” said the king,
“despairing now of any good effect of further treaty, we are compelled
to take up arms in defence of an ancient prerogative of our crown, and
the glory and safety of our kingdoms.”
Louis’ declaration of war, of fewer words and greater dignity,
followed; arrangements were completed for the union of the English and
French fleets, and no difficulty was made about the salute. Charles,
while taking so high and imperial a tone in the declaration of war
about the ancient and sacred rights of the English flag, immediately
relinquished them to his royal ally and paymaster. For the first time
in history the French fleet was put on an equality with the English
in the British seas. Orders were issued that if an English squadron
under a vice-admiral was sent to the Mediterranean to be commanded by a
French admiral, the latter was to be saluted in the same manner as he
was saluted by French vice-admirals. When an English frigate was sent
to Brest with a despatch for the Comte d’Estrées, the Vice-Admiral of
France, it was ordered if it met the French squadron appointed to join
the English fleet to salute them as if they were English ships, and
to treat the French Vice-Admiral as if he were English. Charles sent
similar commands to the Governors of Portsmouth, Dartmouth, Dover,
and other places--that the French ships were to be saluted as if they
were English. Thus not only in the Mediterranean, but in the Channel
and in English ports, the English flag was to be lowered to that of
France--a proposition that might have made the old sea-dogs turn in
their graves.[892]
The junction of the allied fleets was followed, on 28th May, by the
fierce and sanguinary battle of Solebay. The victory was indecisive,
but the advantage lay rather with the Dutch. De Ruyter withdrew to his
own coast, and the English were too much crippled to follow.[893] No
other great sea-fight took place in 1672, but in September Sir Edward
Spragge employed his squadron against the Dutch fishermen. Just before
the declaration of war the States-General laid an embargo on their
fishing vessels; but they removed it in September,[894] and towards the
end of the month it was reported that a hundred Dutch busses, convoyed
by twenty frigates, were fishing off the Norfolk coast. On the 22nd
Spragge’s squadron, showing no colours, appeared off Yarmouth, and
greatly frightened the English herring fishermen, who thought the Dutch
fleet was upon them. By noon on the 24th he had captured eleven Dutch
doggers and 117 prisoners; two of the doggers had licenses from the
English Government, and were released later. By the end of the month
the prizes numbered about thirty doggers, one buss, and a privateer,
with over 300 prisoners,--not a very large haul,--while about 200
others had been chased home, and many nets, which the fishermen had
cut and left in the water, were destroyed. Spragge having thus, as he
reported, “cleared these seas of fishermen except our own,” returned to
the Thames.[895]
While the Dutch maintained the contest at sea with honour and success,
they were overwhelmed on land. A great French army, under Turenne,
Condé, and other celebrated generals of the age, poured into the
Provinces. Town after town, fortress after fortress, surrendered to
the invaders, and the Prince of Orange, with the remnant of his small
army, retired into Holland. It seemed inevitable that the Republic,
contending with the two most powerful states in Europe and bereft of
allies,--for Sweden as well as England had been detached from the
triple league,--would soon be subjugated. The States-General, in
despair, sued for peace. Two ambassadors were sent to Louis and two
to Charles. Louis offered them impossible terms, and allowed ten days
for acceptance or rejection. Charles refused to see them at all, but
sent them to Hampton Court along with Boreel, who had not yet left
England; and there they remained for some weeks carrying on a sort of
backstairs negotiation. Then the king, fearing they might intrigue
with his own subjects, who were in sympathy with them, dismissed them
early in August. But becoming apprehensive at the unexpected rapidity
of the French conquests, he despatched the Duke of Buckingham and
Lord Arlington, and soon also Viscount Halifax, to negotiate anew
with Louis, and to inform him of the overtures for peace from the
States-General. On their way they passed through Holland, where they
had several interviews with the Dutch Government and the Prince of
Orange. After renewing the league with Louis at Utrecht, and agreeing
that neither king should conclude peace except with the consent of
the other, the conditions on which Charles was willing to make peace
were formulated. The States were asked to undertake, on demand, to
banish perpetually any person guilty of treason against the king, or of
writing seditious libels; to pay £1,000,000 sterling towards the cost
of the war; to invest the Prince of Orange with the sovereignty of the
United Provinces, or at least to confer upon him the highest offices;
and to surrender as security to the king Walcheren, the city and castle
of Sluys, as well as the isles of Cadsand, Goeree, and Voorne. With
regard to the sovereignty of the sea, they were to yield the honour
of the flag without the least reserve or hesitation, so that whole
fleets were to lower their top-sails and strike their flags to a single
English ship carrying the king’s flag, in any part of the British sea
up to the coasts of the United Provinces. The States-General were,
moreover, to agree to pay to the King of England, for ever, the sum of
£10,000 a-year for permission which the king would grant them to fish
for herrings on the coasts of England, Scotland, and Ireland.[896]
The demands of Louis were even more oppressive to the Dutch, and
threatened them in what they held most dear--their religious liberty,
for the sake of which they had formerly fought so long and so
heroically against the tyranny of Spain.
In this crisis of their history despair and fury seized upon the
people. The Ministers were blamed for the misfortunes of the country;
a popular tumult burst forth in favour of the Prince of Orange; and
John de Witt, the clear-eyed statesman who had so long held the helm
and steered the Republic through so many dangers and difficulties, was
foully murdered in circumstances of great brutality--a fate which his
brother shared. The young Prince infused his own invincible spirit into
the people. The terms of peace were rejected, and a supreme effort was
made to save the country by the method which had been adopted against
Alva and Requesens just a century before: the dykes were opened and the
land laid under water, causing the enemy to retreat. The steadfast
courage of the Prince of Orange and the growing alarm at the designs of
France at last brought allies to the States. Spain and both branches
of the house of Austria espoused their cause, and German troops came
marching to the Rhine.
But the ally on which the Dutch most relied was the Parliament of
England. It had now been prorogued for nearly two years, and Charles
was at last forced to summon it by his need of money to carry on the
war. When it met, the members were told by the king that he had been
forced into a war which was just and necessary both for the honour and
the interest of the nation, and he referred them to his declaration,
in which the reasons were given. He also defended the Declaration of
Indulgence to dissenters, which had been designed to favour the Roman
Catholics, and about which the country was greatly agitated. The Earl
of Shaftesbury, as Chancellor, enlarged on the same themes. Against the
Dutch he levelled such charges as were contained in the declaration
of war. They had broken treaties about the East Indies and Surinam,
“and at last,” he exclaimed, “they came to that height of insolence,
as to deny the honour and right of the flag, though an undoubted jewel
of this crown, never to be parted with; and by them particularly
owned in the late treaty of Breda and never contested in any age.” He
accused them of disputing the king’s title to it in all the Courts of
Christendom, and of having made great offers to the King of France if
he would stand by them against England. They were branded as the common
enemy to all monarchies, and especially to that of England, “their only
competitor for trade and power at sea,” who alone stood in their way to
a universal empire as great as Rome. They had, he said, slighted all
negotiations and refused all cessation of hostilities; and the king,
he claimed, in entering on the war had only carried out the maxims of
the Parliament which had advised the last war, and had then judged it
necessary to extirpate the Dutch, laying it down as an eternal maxim,
“_delenda est Carthago_, that government is to be brought down.” The
Parliament was then asked to vote further supplies.
At first, while avoiding the least approbation of the war,
Parliament passed a resolution that they would grant eighteen
months’ assessments, at the rate of £70,000 a-month, for the king’s
“extraordinary occasions”; but this was designed merely to allow them
time to deal with the Declaration of Indulgence before Charles could
afford to dismiss them. The contest with the king on this question
ended in victory for the Parliament, which then passed the Test Act,
disqualifying Catholics for all offices under the crown. The king was
still resolved to pursue the war. The money voted by Parliament served
to equip a fleet; and as the Duke of York was made ineligible owing to
the Test Act, Prince Rupert took his place as admiral. In May 1673 the
combined naval forces of France and England sought out De Ruyter on his
own coast, and three battles were fought in the summer,--on 28th May,
4th June, and 11th August,--both sides claiming victory; but the Dutch
prevented the projected landing of English troops, and compelled the
allies to retire to their own coasts.[897]
By this time, however, the king saw he could not with safety continue
to carry on the war much longer. Spain, which had already declared
war against France, threatened to do the same against England unless
peace was made, and this would destroy the lucrative English trade
with that country. The war was intensely unpopular in England, and the
seamen fought without heart. The timid conduct of the French squadrons
in the various battles excited deep and widespread resentment. It was
on all sides rumoured that Charles had sold his country in order to
carry out the selfish designs of Louis. The subsidies, moreover, were
soon exhausted, and it would be necessary to ask Parliament again for
more money. It was clear that the appeal which Charles had made to
the spirit or vanity of the nation with respect to the honour of the
flag and the sovereignty of the sea had thoroughly failed, although
inspired and mercenary pens did what they could to arouse enthusiasm.
These efforts were indeed a measure of the unpopularity of the third
Dutch war. Before it broke out certain authors had handled the theme.
The learned Prynne, who lost his ears for opposing Charles I., became
a subservient supporter of his son; and, as Keeper of the Records
in the Tower, he published an erudite, but confused, book in which
the absolute right of the King of England to the dominion of the
surrounding seas was maintained.[898] In a very different kind of book,
one Captain John Smith repeated current arguments and misstatements on
the same topic, especially with reference to the fisheries, for he had
been one of the agents of the Fishery Society of Charles I. He makes a
statement that must have caused the king, if he saw it, some surprise
at his modesty in asking only £10,000 or £12,000 from the Dutch. He
had heard, he says, that the “composition” of the Hollanders for leave
to fish on our coasts was an annual rent of £100,000 and £100,000
“in hand”; and as none of it had been paid into the Exchequer, he
computed the arrears then to be over £2,500,000, a sum which, he very
truly remarked,--and it is the sole truth in the statement,--“would
come very happily for the present occasions of his Majesty.” Like
many others before him and after him, he advocated the building of a
fleet of busses and the prohibition of the Hollanders from fishing in
the British seas.[899] Still other writers laid stress on the close
connection between the sovereignty of the sea and trade, commerce, and
navigation;[900] and after the war broke out more pointed attacks were
made against the Dutch. They were accused of invading our fisheries
without license from the king, refusing to strike sail, disputing our
dominion of the seas, and by artifice supplanting us in trade and
commerce.[901]
None of those works was of much account, and the Ministry felt the need
of obtaining the services of an able writer to stimulate ill-feeling
against the Dutch, and in particular to answer a well-reasoned pamphlet
which the Dutch had widely circulated in refutation of the reasons for
the war given in the king’s declaration. The States-General did not
reply to that document, but Wicquefort did so in the pamphlet referred
to, which was entitled “Considerations on the Present State of the
United Netherlands.” The tone of his reply was extremely temperate.
The writer insisted on the difference between the striking of the flag
and the sovereignty of the sea; the former was merely a ceremony of
respect which all republics paid to monarchies, and not in the least
a sign of subjection or an acknowledgment of sovereignty, and as such
it had been regulated in the treaty of Breda. The States had always
resisted the claim that a whole fleet of theirs should strike to a
single English ship. In 1654 Cromwell had abandoned a similar claim
on their objecting; and as the article in the treaty of Breda was the
same as the one agreed to in 1654, it was unjust to construe it now in
the sense of the article which Cromwell had withdrawn. On that ground
alone, therefore, it could not be maintained that Van Ghent and the
whole Dutch fleet were bound to strike to the king’s yacht. Moreover,
the article applied only to the British seas, and the writer argued
that that meant the Channel and not the North Sea, citing the seventh
article of the treaty of Breda as to the cessation of hostilities.
Since the Dutch fleet were lying at anchor off their own coast when
the king’s yacht passed, they were not obliged to strike, because
they were in the North Sea, and not in the British seas at all. The
conclusion was drawn, and as we have seen justly, that the king had
sent his yacht for the deliberate purpose of getting a ground of
quarrel. As for the sovereignty of the sea, the States attributed to
God alone such dominion as the king usurped to himself. They therefore
refused Downing’s demands, which had been put forward to give the king
a pretext for war. To admit them would ruin the United Provinces, which
lived by commerce and the liberty of the sea. As for the fisheries,
they had never asked for permission to fish from the King of England;
and though in 1636 licenses were forced upon some of their defenceless
fishermen by English men-of-war, that was an act of violence from which
no right or title could be derived, and the attempt was relinquished at
the demand of the States-General, and had not been repeated.
The cogent arguments of the Dutch writer were well fitted to
confirm the general opinion in England as to the cause of the war,
and the Court promptly secured the services of Henry Stubbe, a
clever, versatile, and prolific writer, to refute them. His answer
to Wicquefort was considered by the private committee on 15th
May 1672,[902] and it was published anonymously in the following
month.[903] The spirit in which Stubbe entered into his task is
revealed in a letter he wrote to Secretary Williamson. “The rule I go
by,” he said, “is this: that no nation is more zealous for their honour
than the English; that if they are put into a great passion they forget
their particular interests and animosities.”[904] He therefore tried as
much as he could to inflame the public mind.
The _Justification_, though rabid in tone, is in many respects an able
book. It differs from many of the controversial works of the day in
that the author, however oblique may be his inferences from them, does
not, so far as we have observed, pervert and misquote the documents
he cites. It is unnecessary to particularise his arguments on the
sovereignty of the sea. They were drawn mainly from Selden, Welwood,
and other authors, and partly from certain State Papers which the
Ministry placed at his disposal. The striking of the flag by foreigners
was, of course, declared to be a regality, and “paramount to all
treaties”; it was a “fundamental of the crown and dignity of the King
of England.” The attack on the Smyrna fleet, which Wicquefort denounced
and made the most of, was justified by their refusal to strike their
flags, the instructions issued to the admirals of England for four
hundred years compelling them to seize all ships which refused. The
universal dominion which the king possessed over the British seas was
thus formulated: (1) the regality of fishing for pearl, coral, amber
(!), &c., and the “direction and disposal” of all fishes “as they
shall seem to deserve the regards of the public”--a somewhat cryptic
claim; (2) the prescribing of the laws of navigation to foreigners as
well as to the king’s own subjects; (3) the power of imposing customs
and taxes upon those navigating or fishing in them; (4) jurisdiction
in regard to maritime delinquencies; (5) the duty of foreign ships to
strike their flags and lower their top-sails to the king’s “floating
castles,” the ships of war, by which “submission they are put in
remembrance that they have come into a territory wherein they are
to own a sovereign power and jurisdiction, and receive protection
from it.” It was admitted that the sea was free for commerce and
innocent passage; but both might be refused if there was suspicion of
danger, and that the imposition of tribute for fishing, convoy, or
the maintenance of lights and beacons did not infringe the liberty of
commerce.
The work appears to have pleased his employers, for immediately after
its publication Stubbe began the composition of another on the same
lines--to vindicate the “honour” of his Majesty and the kingdom. In
this he wished very much to deal with the lampoons and “scandalous
pictures” circulated in Holland, “thereby to raise a due passion and
resentment in the English,” especially one which represented the
English ambassadors at Breda kneeling in supplication to their High
Mightinesses the States-General; and Sir Joseph Williamson, who was
then in Holland with Buckingham and Arlington, was asked to bring over
specimens of these. He told Williamson that in his new work, which he
proposed to entitle “An Apology for the King’s Majesty’s Declaration,
By an Old Commonwealth Man,” he would represent to the English people
his Majesty’s “generous concern for his subjects’ welfare and trade,”
and his admirable prudence in the noble conduct of affairs; he would
excuse his stop of the Exchequer and the Declaration of Indulgence,
and descant upon the growth of the Dutch by contumelies to the king
and nation. Stubbe was also anxious to obtain, besides the pictures
and medals, a manuscript book which he had seen, containing an account
of the transactions between the Dutch and the Commonwealth. This was
in the possession of Thurloe, who had been Secretary under Cromwell,
and he refused to produce it, until a warrant issued by Lord Clifford
compelled him to give it up.[905]
The second work was published in 1673, and Stubbe did all that
he promised to do, copiously illustrating it with figures of the
objectionable medals and pictures, and greatly abusing the Dutch.[906]
But all such efforts to stir up animosity against the Dutch and
to convince the public and Parliament of the justness of the war
completely failed, and Charles was forced to enter into negotiations
for peace. Immediately after the battle of the Texel, in August
1673, a congress of the Powers which had assembled at Cologne began
its deliberations to arrange terms of peace, under the mediation of
Sweden. The English plenipotentiaries were Sir Leoline Jenkins and
Sir Joseph Williamson, and the instructions given to them by Charles
included the following:--“The principal points we shall insist upon,”
said the king, “beyond the particular ones relating to general amity,
commerce, &c., are these following: _First_, To have the honour for
the future paid to the flagg of England, which hath been practised and
acknowledged by them in all former times. _Secondly_, A million of
pounds sterling to reimburse us in some part the expenses we have been
at in making the war. _Thirdly_, Ten thousand pounds per annum as an
honorary acknowledgment for the great benefit that Republic reaps for
the fishing on our coasts, and two thousand pounds more for the like
liberty they enjoy upon the coast of our kingdom of Scotland.”[907]
The terms of peace now offered, it will be observed, were much less
exacting than those demanded in the previous year, and the request for
an express acknowledgment of the king’s sovereignty of the sea was
dropped. The Dutch plenipotentiaries at the outset of the proceedings
said little difficulty would be raised about the question of the
flag, but they demurred to the demand to pay tribute for liberty of
fishing.[908] This thorny subject was threshed out on either side
with all the old arguments which were used in the times of James and
Cromwell. The Dutch pled possession, prescription, treaties; the
English replied that the treaties had expired in subsequent wars, and
were abrogated by the separation of the Provinces from the House of
Burgundy, with whom the treaties were made. A new point was raised to
show that no right could now be claimed under the Burgundy treaties.
If they were still in force, why had the citizens of Bruges in the
Spanish Netherlands, subjects of the King of Spain, who was the
successor and descendant of the Dukes of Burgundy, and the very people
in whose favour the Magnus Intercursus was made, petitioned the King of
England as lately as 1666 for a license to fish in the British seas,
a privilege which had been granted to them?[909] To this the Dutch
replied that the right to the fishery did not spring from the treaty
of 1495, which had been made merely to avoid contests that previously
occurred. As the result of conferences with the Dutch representatives,
the Swedish mediators informed Jenkins and Williamson that the
States-General would not consent to an annual payment for the right
of fishery, but they suggested, as the Prince of Orange had done once
before, that the matter might be compromised by the payment of a lump
sum. Charles declined this proposal, but he reduced the amount of the
yearly payment he asked by half--to £5000 for the English fishery and
£1000 for the Scottish. The conference was at the same time informed
that it was then, and always would be, the “passion” both of king and
subject in England to assert and preserve the great royalty of the
fishery.
Since the Dutch would not agree to the payment of an annual tribute for
the liberty to fish, and Charles would not agree to a lump sum, the
mediator suggested that the Dutch might be asked for a small yearly
payment for the privilege of drying their nets on shore. This ingenious
device roused the suspicions of the English delegates, who feared the
tabling of a clause which would represent the tribute as for the use
of the land and not for the liberty of fishing. Charles agreed with
them in refusing the compromise, telling them that the article about
the fishing was “to be barely and solely for the liberty of fishing on
his Majesty’s coasts,” and was not to be mixed up with any question of
drying nets. They were also told to make it clear that his license was
to be a “successive permission” only, from his Majesty to the Dutch,
for liberty to fish, and to take care, not to part wholly with his
right in the fishery to them. By an arrangement of this nature Charles
and his successors would have been free to follow the example of the
kings of Denmark in dealing with the dues at the Sound--that is, in
gradually raising the amount.[910]
Passing from this subject to the question of the flag, it was soon
apparent that the Dutch had been too sanguine in thinking there would
be little difficulty in dealing with it. The mediators, in drawing up
a protocol of the English demands, had modified the article put in
concerning the flag. The English had confined themselves to the bare
words “the right of the flag” (“le droit du pavillon”), to which the
Swedes added, “in the manner your Excellencies (the Dutch ambassadors)
projected.” The Dutch, in short, had expanded the meaning of the
nineteenth article of the treaty of Breda so as to omit the troublesome
and objectionable words “the British seas,” their proposed article
being “that ships of the United Provinces meeting British ships _at
sea_ should lower the top-sail and the flag, in such manner as the same
had ever been previously observed.” Jenkins and Williamson strongly
opposed the omission of the phrase “the British seas.” They declared
that the King of England had a special right and immemorial prerogative
in those particular seas, but if he grasped at the same honour in
all places, not only the Dutch but all the world besides would have
reason to dispute it with him. They said further that the king wished
that yachts, by name, and all vessels whatsoever in his service and
carrying his colours, flag, or jack, should have the same honour paid
to them. They also objected to the clause “in such manner as,” &c., as
being vague and open to misunderstanding, and insisted that it should
be set down clearly what the Dutch were to do and how they were to
do it in the future. They wished, in short, to bind the Dutch by an
express stipulation to the view that the meaning of the clause in the
previous treaties was that whole fleets should strike to any single
vessel in the king’s service in the British seas, while leaving “the
British seas” undetermined; and they tabled an article to that effect.
Both the Dutch and the mediators objected to this clause as asserting
positively that to have been the custom in former times, and saying
that to admit it would be to condemn themselves in what they had done
in regard to the _Merlin_. They were quite willing, they said, to do
the thing for the future, but it was unreasonable to ask them to avow
so openly that they had been in the wrong in not doing it hitherto. To
this the English replied that it was most certainly and notoriously an
ancient right of the crown of England, of which they had proofs in all
ages, and that to omit the words would be to accept of the ceremony as
a courtesy and not as a right.
At this stage, however, the king sent them a new article about the
flag, defining in part the limits within which the Dutch were to be
asked to strike, and these were from Cape Finisterre to the North Cape
in Norway. These surprising boundaries had been suggested a year or two
before as the limits of the British seas by the Masters of the Trinity
House (p. 478), and no doubt Charles meant them to be so considered.
They were derived primarily from Selden’s _Mare Clausum_, and the
southern limit, Cape Finisterre, had been for some time incorporated
in the Admiralty instructions.[911] The Dutch were thus to be asked to
strike to English ships along almost the whole extent of the western
coasts of Europe, a distance exceeding two thousand miles.
The English plenipotentiaries did not like this article. They informed
Lord Arlington that when they were preparing the one they had already
submitted, they had wished there had been means to ascertain the bounds
of our seas as well as there was for clearing up the point regarding
whole fleets striking to a single ship; but they had concluded that
the king and the Lords of the Committee (for foreign affairs) looked
upon it as a thing so invidious and difficult as not to be attempted
at that juncture. They explained that they would receive no assistance
from the French ambassador or the mediators, all of whom, they clearly
perceived, had difficulty in containing themselves from disputing
the right of striking at all. As long as they confined the claim to
the British seas they were not afraid of opposition, since they had
overwhelming evidence as to the usage. But if they insisted on the
limits of Cape Finisterre and the North Cape, and supported their
contention with arguments from geography or tradition, or if they were
asked to produce proofs or instances as to “the matter of fact” near
those limits, they foresaw that objections would be raised which they
were not sufficiently instructed to answer. No doubt, they continued,
it might be advantageous to fix some limits in order to lessen the
chance of disputes, but even if mathematical lines could be laid down
and agreed upon, it would not remove all ground of quarrel. Besides, to
fix definite bounds would place upon themselves a burden which properly
lay upon their adversaries; for when the king’s right of the flag was
established as incontrovertible within the British seas, if any one who
was called upon to strike declared he was not in the British seas, he
would have to prove it. This long disquisition failed to convince the
king. He insisted that the previous article, in which the term “British
seas” alone occurred, should be withdrawn and the new article with the
specified limits substituted.[912]
The influence of certain important changes in political affairs which
had taken place since the congress met now made itself strongly felt
at the deliberations. The position and the prospects of the United
Provinces had greatly improved. The States-General had succeeded in
entering into alliances with the Emperor, the King of Spain, and
the Dukes of Brandenburg and Lunenburg. In the field the movements
of the Prince of Orange and his allies caused Louis to abandon his
conquests with even greater rapidity than he had made them. The English
Parliament, too, from which the Dutch had reason to hope for much,
was about to assemble. It was thus natural that the Dutch ambassadors
and the representatives of their allies at the congress should take a
higher tone in dealing with the peace proposals. Some of the conditions
which had been put forward by France and England were now declared
to mean “utter ruin” to the Dutch, or their “eternal servitude”; and
among them was the demand of Charles for a payment for liberty of
fishing, which it was asserted would make them tributary to England.
The English plenipotentiaries employed all the arguments they could
discover in Selden’s _Mare Clausum_ and other similar works, and in
the volume of State Papers with which they were provided, to convince
the congress that fisheries might be “appropriated” on the high seas
as well as in rivers and lakes, and that the King of England had the
exclusive right to the fisheries off his own coasts. They cited the
example of Genoa with the tunny fishery, the treaties between England
and Denmark concerning the fisheries on the Norwegian coast and at
Iceland, the licenses of the kings of Denmark, the English licenses
to French fishermen and the grant to Bruges, the Act of Richard II.,
and the licenses forced by the Earl of Northumberland on the Hollander
busses in 1636. They even displayed the original documents showing
King James’s expostulations with the Dutch in 1618, and the charter
granted to Bruges. It was all in vain. The times had changed. The
Dutch ambassadors could now afford to pass the matter off with a
raillery. They told Jenkins and Williamson that they “would bait the
herrings, as men do carps, to come and feed upon their coasts, and
then they would be in possession of a liberty to fish”; adding that
they would then allow the English to fish upon the Dutch coast without
fear of molestation. More seriously, they said that since no similar
stipulation had been allowed in any previous treaty, the States-General
trusted to the goodness of the king to pass over the article on that
occasion; and Beverning, who was one of the Dutch representatives,
recalled how he had discussed the whole matter with Cromwell in 1653,
who had withdrawn the claim to the fishery.
No one, neither the mediators nor even the French, the allies of
Charles, gave the English ambassadors any encouragement to insist on
the fishery article; and finally De Groot informed them, in language
more forcible than elegant, that his countrymen would rather “burst”
than submit to any acknowledgment in that matter, and that he believed
the States would sooner forbid their subjects to fish at all than to
ask leave to do so of the crown of England.
The English ambassadors were forced to tell the king that they had no
hope of obtaining consent to the article about the fishery, unless
indeed the Parliament (which had by this time strongly and boldly
shown its sympathy with Holland) “should happen to stand vigorously
by his Majesty in this demand which he is pleased to make.” They
suggested--almost, one may think, with a touch of irony--that the Dutch
might be offered, as an alternative, “a Bill,” like the proclamation
of James in 1609, or the Act of 2 Richard II. that laid an impost of
sixpence a ton on our own fishing vessels, “wherein,” they added, “if
strangers be not intended (as we humbly conceive they are), they may be
more expressly taken in.”[913]
Although it was on the fishery article that the negotiations stuck
most, difficulties also continued to arise about the one on the flag.
The Dutch said they were willing to do anything that had been done in
former times by way of respect to the crown of England; they could not
do it as a right, nor could they do anything that might be construed
to be an acknowledgment of the king’s claim to the dominion of the
British seas. They were unable to admit, without proof, that it was
the former practice for a whole fleet of theirs to strike to a single
English ship; and while again affirming their willingness for this
to be done in future, they declined to make any express recognition
of it as a right in the treaty, saying that it would be “abundant
courtesy” if they admitted the words _Maria Britannica_, as in all
their other treaties; it was a term, moreover, which the French could
not be brought to admit into their treaty of Breda, insisting on the
term _maria proxima_ instead. The English representatives would not
condescend to adduce proofs as to the past usage. The king, they
said, would not allow an observance so ancient and notorious to be
questioned as a matter of fact, any more than that England was an
ancient monarchy; and they did not ask for a fuller stipulation than
in the article proposed by Cromwell. On the other side, it was pointed
out that Cromwell had given up all the points raised, especially the
striking of a whole fleet; and, moreover, they could not allow that
all the tract of sea between the North Cape and Cape Finisterre was
the British Ocean, and they hinted they were willing to strike all the
world over without any limitation of places. The English ambassadors
wrote to Arlington that although they had not been instructed to claim
as British the sea between the limits named, yet, if these limits were
adhered to, the Dutch would not fail to alarm the Dane and the Swede,
the French and the Spaniard. They were justly suspicious of the too
generous offer of the Dutch to strike in all seas. They saw in it the
design to make the special right possessed in the British seas, in
virtue of the king’s sovereignty there, less certain and evident in
future ages, and to transform it into a mere mark of civility. Charles
gave way to a slight degree. In February 1674 he sent on another
article, in which the northern limit was brought down from the North
Cape to the middle point of the Land-van-Staten in Norway.[914]
By this time, however, negotiations for a separate peace between
England and the United Provinces had been begun in London, and the
sluggish congress at Cologne, slowly evolving a general peace, broke up
and dispersed. Charles was driven to negotiate separately by the action
of the Parliament, which financial necessities had forced him to summon
in October, and which lost little time in showing its ill-humour with
his policy. In his opening speech he stated that he had hoped to be
able to announce the conclusion of an honourable peace, but the Dutch,
he said, had treated his ambassadors at Cologne “with the contempt
of conquerors,” and had other thoughts than peace; and he asked for
supplies. Shaftesbury, as usual, filled in the picture. The king, he
said, had expected to meet them with the olive-branch of peace, but
the obstinacy of the Dutch had foiled the negotiations, although his
Majesty’s concessions had been so great. “He could not,” he continued,
“be King of Great Britain without securing the dominion and property
of his own seas: the first, by an article clear, and not elusory, of
the flag; the other, by an article that preserved the right of the
fishing, but gave the Dutch permission, as tenants, under a small
rent, to enjoy and continue that gainful trade upon his coasts.” But
the Dutch, he said, would not agree to any article on the flag that
was clear or plain, and they refused any article about the fishery
except such a one as might convey to them the right of inheritance for
an inconsiderable sum of money, “though it be a Royalty so inherent
in the crown of England, that I may say (with his Majesty’s pardon
for the expression) he cannot sell it.” “There is not,” continued the
Chancellor, “so lawful or commendable a jealousy in the world, as an
Englishman’s of the growing greatness of any Prince at sea. If you
permit the sea, our British wife, to be ravished, an eternal mark of
infamy will stick upon us.” It was therefore the duty of Parliament to
provide the king with more money.[915]
Parliament was not to be cozened by fair words or beguiled by the
oratorical tropes of Shaftesbury. The Commons boldly affirmed they
would vote no more money unless it appeared that the Dutch were so
obstinate as to refuse all reasonable conditions of peace; and with
regard to other matters they showed a bellicose spirit. The king
resolved to prorogue them suddenly, and went unexpectedly to the House
of Peers and sent for the Commons. When Black Rod approached to summon
them the door was hastily closed, the Speaker was hurried into the
chair, and the following motions were instantly put: that the alliance
with France was a grievance; that the evil counsellors about the king
were a grievance; that the Duke of Lauderdale was a grievance and not
fit to be trusted or employed. Before the motions could be passed,
Black Rod, knocking loudly in the king’s name, was admitted, and the
House rose in confusion. A scene so reminiscent of the days of his
father could hardly be lost on Charles. It was clear that it would be
impossible to continue the Dutch war if its continuance depended on
Parliament voting money for it.
Shortly afterwards the king found it necessary to summon Parliament
again, and, changing his attitude, he condescended to submit to
them, for their opinion, certain propositions for peace which the
States-General had communicated through the Spanish ambassador. At the
same time he sent privately for John Evelyn, who had been for some
time engaged on a history of the second Dutch war, and asked him to
write something “against the Hollanders about the duty of the flag and
fishery,” no doubt with the intention and object of influencing the
opinion of Parliament.[916] Parliament acted with promptitude. They
passed a resolution, on 27th January 1674, recommending the king to
make a speedy peace. Louis, who saw how things were tending with the
Parliament, having advised the same course, Sir William Temple was
summoned from his orchards a few days later and requested to proceed
to The Hague to conclude the treaty. On the eve of his departure,
the Marquis de Frezno, the Spanish ambassador, announced that he had
received full powers from the States to treat and conclude a peace. The
negotiations were thereupon conducted in London between Sir William
Temple and the Marquis, and they went on so smoothly and speedily that
the treaty was signed at Westminster on 9th February. The two points
that caused the greatest difficulty were the flag and the recalling of
the English troops from the French service: the claim for tribute for
liberty to fish was dropped altogether.[917]
The article relating to the flag differed from the corresponding
articles in the previous treaties. It was as follows:--
“The said States-General of the United Provinces, duly acknowledging,
on their part, the right of the above-mentioned most serene prince,
the King of Great Britain, to have honour paid to his flag in the seas
to be hereafter named, will and do declare and agree, that all and
singular the ships and vessels belonging to the said United Provinces,
whether ships of war or others, whether single ships or in squadrons,
which shall meet with any ships or vessels whatsoever belonging to the
most serene prince, the King of Great Britain, whether one or more,
carrying his Britannic Majesty’s ensign, or flag called the _Jack_,
in any of the seas from the Cape called _Finisterre_, to the middle
point of the land called _van Staten_, in Norway, the foresaid ships or
vessels of the United Provinces shall strike their flag and lower their
topsail, in the same manner and with the like testimony of respect, as
hath been customary in any time or place heretofore, by any ships of
the States-General or their predecessors to any ships of his Britannic
Majesty or his predecessors.”[918]
* * * * *
Most writers who have dealt with the subject have followed Temple in
thinking that this article was a great triumph for English diplomacy.
“The point of the flag,” said Temple, “was carried to all the height
his Majesty could wish; and thereby a claim of the crown, the
acknowledgment of its dominion in the narrow seas, allowed by treaty
from the most powerful of our neighbours at sea, which had never yet
been yielded to by the weakest of them, that I can remember, in the
whole course of our pretence; and had served hitherto but for an
occasion of quarrel, whenever we or they had a mind to it, upon other
reasons or conjectures.”[919]
Temple’s eulogy of his own diplomacy was hardly justified. The Dutch
had offered a similar article at Cologne; the striking of the flag had
been provided for in previous treaties, and it was not in the least,
as Temple should have known well (for De Witt often told him), and as
the wording of the article shows, an acknowledgment of the dominion
of England in the narrow seas. There is nothing in the article of the
Westminster treaty that the Dutch were not perfectly willing to concede
at Cologne. It was an improvement on the arrangement in previous
treaties, inasmuch as the northern and southern limits of the seas in
which the Dutch were to strike were defined, and it was made clear that
the Dutch were to strike to a single English ship.
But in truth the real diplomatic victory lay with the Dutch. The
striking of the flag is expressly described in the article as a
ceremony of “honour” and a “testimony of respect,”-- a qualification
and attenuation not to be found in the previous treaties. By the
introduction of these words the Dutch gained a point they had long
contended for. Equally pertinent was the omission of the term “British
seas,” which is found in all the earlier treaties,--an omission for
which Charles was in part responsible. The ceremony “of respect”
was to be paid “in any of the seas” between Cape Finisterre and Van
Staten; and while the Dutch refused to consider those seas British, the
English plenipotentiaries at Cologne were unable to contend that they
were British. The limits fixed were therefore, as Sir Philip Meadows
observed, “too wide for dominion and too narrow for respect”;[920] for
we never claimed dominion in the Sea of Norway or the Bay of Biscay,
and the Dutch offered to strike to the king’s flag all over the world.
There is little doubt that the part of the article in which Charles
was most interested was that relating to the striking of a squadron to
a single ship of his, as it furnished a sort of justification for the
action of the _Merlin_ before the war. Temple himself was most anxious
that the “former custom” referred to in all the previous treaties
should be clearly defined; and Charles was entirely satisfied with the
article.[921]
Notwithstanding Temple’s satisfaction as to the article on the flag,
it did not end disputes on the subject. In the year in which the
treaty was concluded, and in the year following, several episodes
occurred. One of them concerned personages no less eminent than the
English ambassadors who had been at Cologne, and it formed a practical
commentary on the fruitless negotiations in which they had been
engaged. Sir Leoline Jenkins and Sir Joseph Williamson did not return
until after the conclusion of peace, and when the king’s yacht, the
_Cleveland_, which had been sent to bring them over, was lying at
anchor off the Briel, with Sir Leoline on board, a yacht of the States
passed between it and the shore without striking its flag or firing any
guns. When a message was sent from the _Cleveland_ to the commander of
the yacht, who was ashore, telling him he should have struck his flag,
he only shrugged his shoulders and said he had the States’ ambassadors
bound for England aboard. The _Cleveland_ then weighed anchor and went
about a league seawards, where the Dutch yacht and a man-of-war were
lying. Again no flag was lowered to the king’s yacht, and the English
captain asked Jenkins what he should do. Jenkins adduced the case of
Tromp’s striking to the Earl of Arundel in Goeree Road, and also of
Prince Maurice’s yacht, which a few days before had struck “to the
kitchen-yacht in the canal of Delf-Haven, between the houses.” The
captain then remembered that the Dutch had struck to him in that very
place as he passed up to Rotterdam, and he proceeded to take vigorous
measures to compel the “duty.” A shot was fired “under the forefoot”
of the States’ man-of-war, and after a “convenient” interval another
over his poop, and then a third between his masts. This brought a boat
from the man-of-war to say that the States’ ambassadors were “much
astonished” at the shots being fired, and that they would not strike,
as they were within their own ports. But when Sir Leoline Jenkins
sent a formal request to Van Beuningen, one of the Dutch ambassadors,
the man-of-war took in its flag, and the incident ended.[922] In the
following year Sir Leoline Jenkins was again a passenger on board one
of the royal yachts, the _Charles_; on reaching the Maes a Holland
man-of-war saluted with five guns, but kept its pennant flying, and
only took it in and repeated the guns after two shots had been fired
at it by the _Charles_; the men-of-war at the Briel also saluted with
their pennants struck.[923]
In the spring of the same year Captain Herbert in the _Cambridge_
encountered six French ships off Dungeness which refused to strike, and
returned the fire, their admiral saying it was the King of France’s
ship, and did not strike. They outsailed the _Cambridge_, said Herbert,
which was no match for them. A few weeks later a French privateer in
the same locality refused to strike to the _Garland_; and the tables
were turned on the English by a Dutch privateer, which fired on a
Whitby merchant vessel for not striking quick enough, and fined the
master six shillings and eightpence for each shot expended, as well as
beating and abusing him.[924] A case of quite a different kind, unique
indeed, as it appears, occurred at the end of 1675. On the return of
the _Quaker_ ketch to England the officers charged the commander,
Captain Joseph Harris, with having lowered his top-sails to a Spanish
man-of-war, supposed to be an Ostend privateer, in the Bay of Biscay,
to the great dishonour of the king. He was tried by a court-martial,
found guilty, and condemned to be shot to death at such time and place
as the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty should appoint.[925] He
was, however, reprieved and then pardoned.[926]
Difficulties not infrequently occurred with merchant vessels, and even
with fishing-boats, over this matter of the flag. We find Pepys writing
to Captain Binning of the _Swan_, at Yarmouth, telling him that while
he should take care that the Dutch “do their parts of civility towards
his Majesty’s flag,” he ought not to impose upon them any “innovation,”
the reference being to the taking of twelve barrels of herrings from
each of the offenders in lieu of carrying them into port.[927] Foreign
merchant vessels, especially Spanish and French, were sometimes
brought into port and their masters tried before the High Court of
Admiralty for refusing to strike to English men-of-war. By the strict
law of the Admiralty such vessels might have been forfeited, but
this extreme course was apparently rarely or never taken, the usual
punishment inflicted being fine and imprisonment. Cases of this kind
were naturally apt to raise unpleasant questions with foreign Powers,
and they had to be dealt with cautiously. In 1675, when two Frenchmen
were brought before the court for this offence, the judge, Sir Thomas
Exton, appealed for advice to Sir Leoline Jenkins, then at the Congress
of Nimeguen, and was warned by him to be very careful how he dealt
with the case. He advised him to meddle as little as possible with the
French edicts of 1555 and 1584 (see p. 117), under which the French
Admiralty claimed similar rights, and to “stick to the terms of the
indictment of the Spanish Captain at the Old Bailey,” adding that
although much might be said plausibly on the subject of striking, that
indictment had never been attacked; and he argued against the seizure
and forfeiture of the ship.[928]
After the third Dutch war several works appeared in which the claims
of England to the salute and to the sovereignty of the sea were
maintained. It has been already mentioned that at the beginning of
1674, when the Dutch offers of peace were received in London, the
king asked Evelyn to write something against the Dutch about the
flag and fishery. As the occasion was pressing, Evelyn extracted the
introductory part of his work on the second Dutch war (a work which
was never completed), and after submitting it to the king, published
it under a rather misleading title.[929] Notwithstanding the haste
shown, the book appeared too late. Peace had been concluded, and the
Dutch ambassador complained about it to the king. Charles ordered it to
be recalled, but with characteristic artifice he instructed that the
copies which were seized publicly to pacify the ambassador should be
immediately restored to the printer, by which means the sales at least
were much increased.[930] About the book itself little need be said. It
is an ill-digested and unveracious account of England’s claim to the
sovereignty of the sea and the fishery, founded on Selden, Boroughs,
and less reputable writers. The author computed the arrears of “rent”
due by the Dutch, and which he said they had engaged to pay for
liberty of fishing, at over £500,000; and he falsified the amount of
“license-money” received by Northumberland in 1636, although the Earl’s
journals, and many other documents, were placed at his disposal. The
most severe criticism of the work was made by the author himself, in a
long and remarkable letter which he sent to Pepys a few years later, in
which he repudiated, _seriatim_, all the “evidences” he had adduced in
favour of the English pretension.[931]
Another book of more influence than Evelyn’s, because it was for a long
time considered the standard work on the maritime law of England, and
went through many editions, was published by Molloy two years later;
and in it the English pretension received perhaps its most arrogant
expression.[932] Notwithstanding the terms of the treaty of 1674, the
author declared that the striking of the flag was not a mere ceremony
of respect, but an absolute acknowledgment of England’s sovereignty
of the seas, the king granting foreigners a general license to pass
through his seas, “paying that obeisance and duty, like the services
when Lords grant out estates, reserving a rose or peppercorn, the value
of which is not regarded, but the remembrance and acknowledging their
benefactor’s right and dominion.” Molloy held that by the treaty of
1674 the dominion of the British seas was “ascertained” to extend from
Cape Finisterre to Van Staten, in Norway, and similar opinions on this
and on the subject generally were expressed by other writers on naval
matters, as by Godolphin[933] and Zouch,[934] and by most writers on
Admiralty affairs during the remainder of the century and well into the
next.
With respect to the fisheries, the failure of the previous attempt
to establish a great fishery society did not deter others from being
proposed. Efforts were indeed made throughout nearly the whole of the
reign of Charles to keep the subject alive. An elaborate report was
prepared by Dr Benjamin Worsley, who was Secretary to the Council for
Trade and Plantations, on the Dutch fisheries and the best means by
which a fishery could be established in this country with good hope of
success. He stated that the least valuation generally placed on the
Dutch herring fishery was £3,000,000, and that it was said to employ
1600 busses. Detailed reasons were given for the belief that success
would not attend any attempt to establish a great fishery in England,
unless it received the active support of the king and Parliament, and
unless we were able to undersell the Dutch in the markets, which he
thought by a change of methods we might be able to do.
Various efforts were made, openly and surreptitiously, to induce
Dutchmen to settle at Yarmouth and Dover; the king even issued a
declaration to encourage this in June 1672. But the schemes failed,
and Sir Arnold Braems suggested that £3000 of the amount expected to
be paid by the Dutch for the liberty of fishing should be devoted to
bringing over busses and men.[935] Early in 1675 a detailed scheme
was laid before Charles for the setting up of a fishery company with
forty busses and a capital of £40,000, the estimated profit in the
first year being placed at £31,463.[936] Among the objections urged to
the setting up of the fishery by the king were the want of seamen and
experienced curers; the acquaintance of the Dutch with the markets and
their spare living, which would enable them to undersell us; and the
laziness of English seamen. These objections were apparently answered
satisfactorily,[937] and in 1677 Charles issued a commission to the
Duke of York, the Earl of Danby, and others for a new society, to
be called “The Company of the Royal Fishery of England,” granting a
number of privileges and £20 per annum from the customs of the port
of London for each buss or dogger. Stock was subscribed to the amount
of about £12,500, which was spent in purchasing busses; but as they
were Dutch-built and manned by Dutchmen, the French, then at war with
the United Provinces, seized six of the seven belonging to the company
and brought the work to a stop. Although the company was reconstructed
later, and an attempt to raise £60,000 to carry it on made with some
success, the death of the king and the troubles which followed caused
the enterprise to be suspended. Thus the endeavours of Charles II. to
create a great national fishery in England were no more successful than
those of Charles I.