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 Weymouth485 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