One of the most prominent and characteristic features in English history relates to the sea and maritime affairs, and the reason is not far to seek. The geographical situation of the country—everywhere surrounded by the waves, separated on the one side from the Continent by a narrow strait and open on the other to the great ocean—made it almost inevitable. And to the advantage of insularity was added the potent influence of race. A great part, if not the larger part, of our blood has come from the old Scandinavian peoples,—the sea-wolves, as the Roman poet said, whose school was the sea and who lived on the pillage of the world; and it is to this circumstance even more perhaps than to the accident of position that we owe our maritime and naval supremacy and the vast empire scattered around the globe. Running through the web of English history one perceives the connecting thread of maritime interest and occupation interwoven with the national life, and at all times affecting the national policy. First and foremost was the necessity of securing the land from invasion; then came the duty of safeguarding shipping and commerce; and with regard to those fundamental interests, the language used by our rulers centuries ago was the same as that which is used by our statesmen to-day. The sea must be “kept.” That has been the maxim and watchword of national policy throughout the ages, and the recognition of its truth was by no means confined to rulers and statesmen. The people at large have always been as convinced and as resolved that the supremacy or dominion on the sea should be maintained as were those in whose hands was placed the guidance of the affairs of the state. Again and again, when owing to mismanagement of the national resources, the poverty of the exchequer, or from some other cause, the supremacy at sea was endangered or temporarily lost, one will find the people clamouring for steps to be taken to maintain it. On the other hand, such was the deep and abiding sentiment with respect to the sovereignty of the sea, when this king or that wished to embark upon a policy or engage in a war for an object that was secret or unpopular, there was no better method of deceiving the people than by declaring that the dominion of the sea was in danger. Thrice in the compass of a single generation the nation was plunged into war with the object of maintaining it.

One thus finds in English history a great deal which refers to the sovereignty of the sea, although the words were not always used to signify the same thing. Most commonly perhaps they meant a mastery or supremacy by force of arms,—what is now so much spoken of as sea-power. In times of peace, the strength of the navy should be such as to safeguard the commerce that came to the realm and went from it, thus enabling merchants and traders to carry on their traffic in security. In time of war, the fleets should be strong enough to sweep the seas, so that, as it has been described, the bounds of the empire should then be the coasts of the enemy. But, more strictly, the sovereignty of the sea was a political sovereignty that existed as a matter of right, and was duly recognised as such, apart from an actual predominance of naval power at the time, just as the sovereignty of a state exists on land, though in both cases its maintenance may depend upon the sword. In this sense, the sovereignty of the sea signified the same sole power of jurisdiction and rule as obtained on land, and also, in its extreme form, an exclusive property in the sea as part of the territory of the realm,—very much indeed like the rights that are now admitted by the law of nations to appertain to the so-called territorial waters of a state. Many things and many interests were thus embraced in the term besides the question of naval ascendency. There were jurisdictions of various kinds and for various purposes. There was the important subject of the fisheries in the waters adjacent to the coasts, or, it might be, in distant regions. There was the still more important question of the freedom or restriction of commerce and navigation from one European country to another, or to the remote countries in the east or west which had been opened up to commercial enterprise by the discoveries of the early navigators. There was, moreover, another subject which was specially characteristic of the English pretensions to the dominion of the seas, and which gave rise to more trouble than all the others combined, and that was the demand that foreign vessels on meeting with a ship of the king’s should lower their top-sails and strike their flag as a token and acknowledgment of that dominion.

Although according to the Roman law the sea was common and free to all, in the middle ages many seas had become more or less effectively appropriated, and Civilian writers began to assign to maritime states, as a principle of law, a certain jurisdiction in the waters adjacent to their coasts. The distance to which such jurisdiction was allowed by those writers was variously stated. Very commonly it extended to sixty or one hundred miles from the land, and thus included all the bordering sea within which navigation was practically confined. Sometimes the principle governing the ownership of rivers was transferred in theory to the sea, the possession of the opposite shores by the same state being held to entitle that state to the sovereignty over the intervening water; or, if it possessed only one shore, to the same right as far as the mid-line. In most cases, however, the appropriation of the sea was effected by force and legalised afterwards, if legalised at all, and the disputes on the subject between different nations not infrequently led to sanguinary wars.

The most notable instances are to be found among the early Italian Republics. Long before the end of the thirteenth century Venice, eminent for her commerce, wealth, and maritime power, assumed the sovereignty over the whole of the Adriatic, though she was not in possession of both the shores, and after repeated appeals to the sword she was able to enforce the right to levy tribute on the ships of other peoples which navigated the Gulf, or to prohibit their passage altogether. The neighbouring cities and commonwealths were soon compelled to agree to her claim, which was eventually recognised by the other Powers of Europe and by the Pope. The right of Venice to the dominion of the Adriatic, arising in this way by force, became firmly established by custom and treaty; and even after she had fallen from her greatness and was hardly able to sustain her claim by the sword, it was still for a time admitted by other nations, who looked upon the Republic as forming a useful barrier to the farther extension of the Turk in Europe and as a scourge to the Saracen pirates.1 On the other side of the Italian peninsula, the Republic of Genoa advanced a similar claim to the dominion of the Ligurian Sea, and some of the other Mediterranean states followed the example in the waters with which they were most immediately concerned.

Then in the north of Europe, Denmark and Sweden, and later Poland, contended for or shared in the dominion of the Baltic. The Sound and the Belts fell into the possession of Denmark, the Bothnian Gulf passed under the rule of Sweden; and all the northern seas between Norway on the one hand, and the Shetland Isles, Iceland, Greenland, and Spitzbergen on the other, were claimed by Norway and later by Denmark, on the principle referred to above, that possession was held of the opposite shores. The Scandinavian claims to maritime dominion are probably indeed the most important in history. They led to several wars; they were the cause of many international treaties and of innumerable disputes about fishery, trading, and navigation; they were the last to be abandoned. Until about half a century ago Denmark still exacted a toll from ships passing through the Sound,—a tribute which at one time was a heavy burden on the trade to and from the Baltic.

Still more extensive were the claims put forward by Spain and Portugal. In the sixteenth century these Powers, in virtue of Bulls of the Pope and the Treaty of Tordesillas, divided the great oceans between them. Spain claimed the exclusive right of navigation in the western portion of the Atlantic, in the Gulf of Mexico, and in the Pacific. Portugal assumed a similar right in the Atlantic south of Morocco and in the Indian Ocean. It was those preposterous pretensions to the dominion of the immense waters of the globe that caused the great juridical controversies regarding mare clausum and mare liberum, from which modern international law took its rise. The task of Grotius in demolishing them by argument was, however, materially facilitated by the exploits of Drake, Hawkins, and Cavendish on the part of the English, and of Jakob van Heemskerk on the part of the Dutch; and, as we shall show, the credit on having first asserted the freedom of the seas in the sense now universally recognised, belongs rather to our own Queen Elizabeth than to the Dutch publicist.

In thus appropriating the seas adjacent to their territories, or which formed the means of communication with them, the various nations were doubtless impelled by consideration of their own immediate interests. Sometimes it helped to secure the safety of their coasts or commerce; in other cases it enabled them to levy tribute on foreign shipping traversing the appropriated waters, and thus to increase their revenues; or it allowed them to preserve the fisheries for the exclusive use of their own subjects. In most instances, however, the principal object appears to have been to maintain a monopoly of trade and commerce as far as possible in their own hands, in accordance with the commercial spirit of the times.

But when the matter is more carefully examined in its historical aspects, a less selfish explanation may be found of the tendency to appropriate seas in the middle ages. In the state of wild anarchy which prevailed after the break-up of the Roman empire, pirates swarmed along every coast where booty might be had. Scandinavian rovers infested the Baltic, the North Sea, and the Channel; Saracens and Greeks preyed upon the commerce of the Mediterranean; everywhere the navigation of trading vessels was exposed to constant peril from the attacks of freebooters. The sea was then common only in the sense of being universally open to depredation.[2] The lawlessness and insecurity that reigned on the sea led merchants, in the absence of effective sovereign authority, to form associations among themselves for mutual protection, and to maintain by force the security of navigation in the common interest. Independent princes at first made use of the armed fleets of those voluntary associations, and later, as their power grew stronger and better organised, they took over the duty of policing the neighbouring seas under an admiralty jurisdiction of their own, which enforced the maritime laws and customs, such as the Laws of Oleron, that had been gradually developed among the merchant associations. In the thirteenth century this duty of exercising supreme admiralty jurisdiction on the neighbouring sea came to be regarded as a prerogative of sovereign power,3 and it was only a short step further to the assertion of an exclusive dominion. It was natural that this assumption of sovereignty on the sea should first be made by the great trading cities of Italy, who then controlled the important traffic between the east and the west, and whose shipping was to be found in all the ports of Christendom. It was also natural that the Italian jurists should be the first to attempt to give it a legal sanction, by assigning a large part of the bordering sea for the exercise of those sovereign functions which were originally confined to the maintenance of order and the punishment of delinquents. There is little doubt that the assumption of sovereign jurisdiction in this way was advantageous to navigation and commerce in those times, though later, with the extension of commercial intercourse and the increased security of the sea, it became burdensome and unnecessary.

There are good reasons for the belief that the English claims to the sovereignty of the sea originated in this humble way—by the exercise of jurisdiction in the interests of peaceful commerce—some time after the Norman Conquest, and in all probability first of all in the Channel or the Straits of Dover. The earliest indication of it is to be found in the much-discussed ordinance which King John issued in 1201. By that ordinance any ships or vessels, “laden or empty,” which refused “at sea” to lower their sails when ordered to do so by the king’s lieutenant or admiral in any voyage appointed by the Council, and resisted the demand, were to be reputed as enemies, and the ships, vessels, and goods were to be seized and forfeited and the crews punished. This is the first evidence of the custom of lowering the top-sails and striking the flag which afterwards became so notorious as a supposed acknowledgment of the English sovereignty of the sea; and it is to be noted that, in later times at least, the vessel had not only to strike, but had also to “lie by the lee.” Considering the prevalence of piracy and the jurisdiction exercised by the state for its suppression, as above described, and in view likewise of the special measures taken by John to encourage and safeguard foreign commerce, the most reasonable explanation of the origin of the custom is that the demand for the sail to be lowered—and the largest vessels then had but one mast and a single sail—was to enable the king’s officers, who were there to maintain the security of navigation, to ascertain the true nature of the vessel which they challenged, whether it was a peaceful trader or a pirate. In all ages piratical vessels have been generally swift, and, if we judge from later times, the ships used in the navy were generally slow: the command to a vessel to lower its sails was thus made in order to deprive it of the power of escaping until the king’s officers had satisfied themselves as to its bona fides, and was equivalent to the gun that was fired in later times in connection with “visit and search.” Shortly before the ordinance was issued, John sent writs to the Mayor and Commonalty of London and to all the Sheriffs of England instructing that all merchants, of what nation soever, should have safe conduct to pass into and repass from England, and to enjoy peace and security.4 It is noteworthy that in the first record relating to the seizure of a vessel for not lowering its sail (a Flemish herring smack, in 1402) it was pled on its behalf that it was not armed, and that the sail had been dropped at the first command. It is also noteworthy that the ordinance of John was placed in the Black Book of the Admiralty immediately after the mercantile marine laws.

Further evidence as to this sort of jurisdiction in the so-called “Sea of England” is to be found in the reign of Edward I., at the end of the thirteenth century and the beginning of the next, in the reign of Edward III., and later, more particularly in the famous rolls, “On the Supremacy of the Sea of England and the Right of the Office of Admiralty in the same,” as well as in the Black Book. The rolls referred to show that England had the sovereign jurisdiction in regard to the maintenance of peace and security in the Sea of England, but there is no evidence to indicate that that Sea extended far from the coast, or that the rights exercised differed from those put in force by other maritime states in the waters adjoining their territory. A great deal was made later of these rolls and of the ordinance of John, as proving that the Angevin or Plantagenet kings possessed the sovereignty of the sea; but beyond the jurisdiction in question, which doubtless was exercised in the Straits of Dover and perhaps in the Channel when the coasts on each side were in the possession of the crown, there is a lack of evidence to prove that any claim of the kind was made. In those times the kings of England were not infrequently styled Lords of the Sea, but this appears to have been either because of the existence of this “sovereign lordship” in the neighbouring waters, or, more usually, because they held at the time the actual command and mastery of the seas in a military sense. There were long periods when nothing was heard of any pretension by England to a special sovereignty of the sea, and, in point of fact, the characteristic features of appropriation were always absent. No tribute was levied on foreign shipping passing through the Channel or the narrow seas, even when both coasts were held by the king, as was done by Denmark at the Sound and by Venice in the Adriatic. After the battle of Agincourt, when Henry V. had been recognised by the Treaty of Troyes as the future king of France and the power of England was predominant, the proposal of Parliament that such tribute should be levied was set aside. Foreign ships of war freely navigated the adjacent seas without asking or receiving permission to do so. The sea fisheries, moreover, were not appropriated. All people were at liberty to come and share in them, and this freedom to fish on the English coast was expressly provided for in a long series of treaties with foreign Powers. The so-called sovereignty of the seas exercised by England thus differed from the actual sovereignty enjoyed by Venice and the northern states of Europe, whose rights were, moreover, recognised in numerous treaties with other nations.

Until the accession of the Stuarts indeed, any pretension of England to a sovereignty in the sea had but little international importance. The custom of lowering the sail by vessels encountering a king’s ship, which probably, as above described, originated in a practical way, had grown into a ceremony in which the top-sails were dropped and the flag hauled down; but it is evident that this was done, even in Tudor times, rather as a matter of “honour” and respect than as an acknowledgment of maritime sovereignty. But after the Stuarts came to the throne the claim of England to the sovereignty of the sea became prominent in international affairs. The doctrine may be said to have been introduced by this dynasty and to have expired with it. One of the first acts of James I. was to cause to be laid down on charts the precise limits of the bays or “chambers” along the English coast, within which all hostile actions of belligerents were prohibited. This sensible proceeding, which had reference to the continuance of the war between the United Provinces and Spain (from which James had himself withdrawn), is not to be regarded as in any sense an assertion of maritime sovereignty or jurisdiction beyond what was customary; and it does not appear that any other prince or state contested the right of the king to treat these bays and arms of the sea as territorial in respect of neutrality. The limits of the “King’s Chambers” were fixed by a jury of thirteen skilled men, appointed by the Trinity House, according to their knowledge of what had been the custom in the past; and there is little doubt that the limits they adopted merely defined in an exact way what was previously held to be the waters under the special jurisdiction of the crown, or, in other words, the “Sea of England,” though the latter doubtless included, at times at least, the Straits of Dover and perhaps the Channel as well.

But James went further than this. In 1609 he issued a proclamation in which he laid claim to the fisheries along the British and Irish coasts, and prohibited all foreigners from fishing on those coasts until they had demanded and obtained licenses from him or his commissioners. This policy of exclusive fishing, though in complete agreement with the views held in Scotland as to the waters “reserved” for the sole use of the inhabitants, was a reversal of the long-settled practice in England, where fishing in the sea was free. It is from this time that one may date the beginning of the English pretension to the sovereignty of the sea. The proclamation and the policy were aimed against the Dutch, the great commercial people of those times. Their ever-increasing herring fishery along the British coast was one of the principal sources of their wealth and power; by means of it indeed, according to their own accounts, they were able to maintain their vast commerce and shipping. The action of James may be looked upon as the first blow in the great contest between the English and the Dutch for maritime and commercial supremacy, which was prolonged throughout the seventeenth century; and the ready acceptance of the new policy by the English people was owing to the fact that the conditions had been gradually preparing for it in the preceding reign, while the two nations were still bound together in alliance against Catholic Spain. With the new development of commercial enterprise the English found the Dutch their competitors in trade in all parts of the globe to which they ventured. The feeling of jealousy that was thus engendered was embittered by the belief that they were often circumvented by the Dutch by unfair means, and this feeling deepened with every year as the century advanced. It was thus against the Dutch that the English pretension to the sovereignty of the sea was specially directed, and it eventually culminated in war. From various circumstances, and not least perhaps from the timid character of James when force was necessary, the policy of preventing the Dutch from fishing on the British coasts was not carried into effect in his lifetime. But with the tenacity that was a curious feature in his nature, his claim to the fisheries was kept alive and formed the subject of mutually irritating negotiations throughout the whole of his reign.

Under Charles I. the English pretension rapidly developed and reached its greatest height, in connection more particularly with the ship-money fleets. The need of an efficient navy for the most elementary duty of safeguarding the sea had been made fully manifest by the frequent and flagrant violations of the king’s sovereignty in his “chambers,” and even in the ports and harbours, both by the Dutch and Dunkirkers. And some of the reasons which were used to justify the formation of a powerful fleet, far beyond the requirements necessary to enforce the ordinary jurisdiction, were sound enough. Without it, it was said, the kingdom could not be made safe, whereas if the king had the command of the seas he would be able to cause his neighbours “to stand upon their guard” whenever he thought fit; and it could not be doubted that those who would encroach upon him by sea would do it by land also when they saw their time. But the pretensions of Charles went far beyond this. He had caused the records in the Tower to be searched for evidence of the ancient supremacy exercised by the crown in the Sea of England, and when they were found they were interpreted in the widest possible sense. Charles assumed the rÔle of the Plantagenets with a good deal added. The bounds of the Sea of England were extended to the coasts of the Continent, and over all the intervening water the king was to enforce an absolute sovereignty. No foreign fleets or men-of-war were to be allowed to “keep any guard” in them, to offer any violence, or to take prize or booty. All passing through them were to be “in pace Domini Regis,” in the peace and under the protection of the King of England, who was Lord of the Seas, ruling over them as part of his territory, and he would take care that there was no interruption of lawful intercourse. And as an acknowledgment of this sovereignty, all foreign ships or vessels meeting with a king’s ship in “those his seas” were to lower their top-sails and strike their flag as they passed by. Charles even proposed to levy tribute on the foreign ships that passed through “his seas,” but by the advice of the Admiralty this was to be only voluntary, in payment for waftage or convoy.

These extraordinary pretensions Selden attempted to justify in his book, Mare Clausum, but Charles was unable to carry them into effect. It is pitiful to read of the proceedings of the great ship-money fleets, created under circumstances so memorable in English history, roaming about the Channel in their vain attempts to compel the French men-of-war to strike their flags, and in the North Sea forcing the king’s licenses on the poor Dutch herring fishermen. The Earl of Northumberland succeeded in the latter mission, against which the Dutch Government strongly protested, and there is no doubt that if the policy had been persisted in, the first Dutch war would have been antedated by some fifteen years.

At this period and during nearly all the remainder of the century the greatest prominence was given to the striking of the flag, which had continued to be a matter of small importance in the reign of James. It was now claimed as a token and acknowledgment of England’s sovereignty of the sea, and it was insisted on with the utmost arrogance. The “honour of the flag” burned like a fever in the veins of the English naval commanders, who vied with one another in enforcing the ceremony, not merely in the Channel or near the English coast, but in the roads and off the ports on the Continent; and the records relating to their achievements in this respect were treasured up in the archives of the Admiralty, to be used again and again in later diplomatic negotiations as to the rights of England to the sovereignty of the sea. Dutch ships, and in particular the men-of-war, made little scruple about performing the “homage.” The Government of the United Provinces were keenly concerned about their commerce and fisheries, and so long as the English pretension did not menace these substantial interests they were willing to show “respect” to the English flag—never, however, as an acknowledgment of any supposed sovereignty of the sea.

While Charles was on the throne no serious international consequences resulted from the enforcement of the salute. The Dutch, as has been said, readily rendered it, and by the prudent policy of Richelieu the French ships were kept out of the way; and not very long thereafter Charles was stripped of his sovereignty on land as well as on the sea. But a little later it had noteworthy results. It was the reluctance of Lieutenant-Admiral Tromp to lower his flag to Blake in their historic meeting in the Straits of Dover in 1652 that precipitated the first Dutch war. By this time the States-General of the United Provinces, and the State of Holland in particular, had considerably abated their readiness to render the “homage of the flag,” even as a mark of respect, thinking that it might be construed as an acknowledgment on their part that the Republic of the Netherlands was inferior to the Republic of England. They had dallied with the subject when it was brought before them in connection with the instructions to their fleets, and had refrained deliberately from giving precise orders about it. The Commonwealth, on the other hand, assigned as much importance to the striking of the flag as Charles had ever done, considering that it touched their dignity as well as their sovereignty in the seas, and the instructions they issued to the naval commanders were practically the same as those that had been given to the ship-money fleets. Even the godly Barebones’ Parliament of 1653, which looked upon the Dutch as a carnal and worldly people, held it necessary that the seas should be secured and preserved as peaceable as the land, as a preparation for the coming of Christ and the personal reign. The traditional sentiment of the English nation respecting supremacy at sea had never been stronger; their jealousy of the commercial pre-eminence of the Dutch was never keener. In the prolonged negotiations that preceded the conclusion of peace, Cromwell, who, until he became Lord Protector, acted as spokesman for the Council, put the questions relating to the dominion of the sea in the foreground. The draft articles which he submitted to the Dutch for their acceptance, while permitting their merchant vessels to navigate the British seas (a provision offensive in itself), proposed to limit the number of their men-of-war that might be allowed to pass through those seas, and if occasion arose for a larger number, the Dutch Government were to give three months’ notice to the Commonwealth and obtain consent before they put them forth. Their men-of-war, as well as their merchant vessels, were to submit to be visited and searched. The Dutch were to have liberty to fish upon the British coasts on payment of an annual sum for the privilege. They were to render the honour of the flag to any ship of the Parliament. Of all these demands the only one that was conceded was the last, and it was a small triumph for Cromwell that he was able, for the first time, to bind another nation to this ceremony by the formal stipulation of a treaty. The Dutch, however, were able to eliminate from the article the words representing that the striking of the flag was an acknowledgment of England’s sovereignty of the sea; and it was pointed out in Holland that they had undertaken to do nothing more than they had previously done.

After the Restoration the pretension to the sovereignty of the sea was continued with almost as much zeal as before. Charles II. did not indeed lay claim to an absolute dominion over the British seas, such as his father had done in the earlier part of his reign. But on all occasions when the opportunity offered, he held to his alleged right to levy tribute for the liberty of fishing on the British coasts, but without the least success. And as for the right to the “honour of the flag,” if it was not exacted with the same arrogance as it had been earlier in the century, it came now to be more than ever before a subject of importance in international relations, especially with the United Provinces. De Witt, the able Minister who directed Dutch affairs, was very desirous to arrive at a definite understanding about it, for he saw that to leave in ambiguity a matter which England regarded as touching her national honour would be to imperil the peaceful relations between the two countries. His object was to have a well-considered regulation prepared and agreed to, so that the points in ambiguity might be made clear, and also to provide that if the Dutch saluted first the English should then return the salute; and he stipulated that the striking of the flag or any agreement about it must not be looked upon as an acknowledgment of England’s so-called sovereignty of the sea; the Dutch, he said, “would rather die” than admit it. One of the points which was in obscurity was whether a whole fleet or squadron of the States was to strike to any single ship of the king’s, even if it was a frigate or a ketch, which did not customarily carry the royal flag in the main-top, or only to an admiral’s ship or one carrying the royal flag. De Witt let it be known in the clearest manner that in his opinion it was intolerable that an English frigate or ketch could claim to force a whole Dutch fleet to strike to it. A few years later, when Charles wished to give effect to his secret compact with Louis XIV. by waging war against the United Provinces, it was necessary to hoodwink the English people as to this flagrant breach of treaty obligations. He therefore contrived, as the means of picking a quarrel with the Dutch, a dispute about the honour of the flag, and he sent, not a frigate, but his yacht, the Merlin, to force the whole Dutch fleet to strike to it, and thus to raise a clamour in England, as he hoped, about the sovereignty of the sea being flouted and endangered. In the third Dutch war which followed, the United Provinces maintained the contest at sea with credit and success against both the English and the French. For domestic reasons Charles was forced to make a separate peace, and in the long negotiations with that object the question of the sovereignty of the sea was brought prominently forward. An attempt was made again to induce the Dutch to agree to pay an annual sum of £12,000 for the privilege of fishing on the British coasts, but the only concession obtained from them related to the striking of the flag. The article in the treaty of peace which dealt with this differed from the corresponding article in previous treaties. The term “the British Seas” was omitted, and it was agreed that even squadrons of the Dutch should strike to any single ship of the king’s in “any of the seas” from Cape Finisterre to Van Staten in Norway; but it was to be done as an “honour” to the king’s flag, and not as an acknowledgment of his alleged sovereignty of the sea. The Dutch, indeed, offered to strike in the same way all the world over.

After this time the English claim to the sovereignty of the sea began to lose its importance. In subsequent treaties with the Dutch Republic, even as late as 1784, a clause was inserted providing for the salute, but it had become merely a matter of form and precedent. The ceremony, in truth, had grown to be a political encumbrance, and after the battle of Trafalgar, when British supremacy at sea was unquestioned, the clause relating to the enforcement of the salute was quietly dropped out of the Admiralty instructions.

It is remarkable that throughout the whole of the long period in which England claimed sovereignty in some form or other over the so-called “Sea of England,” or the “British Seas,” no authoritative definition was ever given of the extent of sea included in the term. In the case of the Adriatic there was no difficulty in understanding the limits within which Venice assumed maritime dominion, for the Adriatic is a narrow landlocked gulf whose boundaries were obvious. It was much the same with the claims put forward by Denmark. Both shores of the Sound were in her possession, and both coasts of the northern or Norwegian Sea. But with our island, washed everywhere by the waves, no such natural boundaries existed. Except when the crown possessed the opposite coast of France, England was isolated; and the Sea of England, so frequently referred to from the thirteenth to the seventeenth century, like the British Seas later, remained only a political expression, not officially described or represented on charts. Reasons have been given above for supposing that the Sea of England prior to the accession of the Stuarts included the waters of the King’s Chambers as defined by James, and perhaps also at times the Straits of Dover and it may be the Channel, though precise evidence is lacking. In the seventeenth century, when the term the British Seas was commonly used, it is clear that the boundaries assigned to them were as vague and fluctuating as the sovereignty exercised over them. They expanded and contracted according to the naval power at the time and the condition of international affairs. Sometimes the whole sea up to the continental coasts was claimed as British; at other times the claim was restricted to the Channel or the Straits of Dover, and to a more or less narrow but undefined belt along the coast; not unfrequently it seemed to vanish altogether, at least as a thing to be regarded in international affairs. In the earlier records in which the sea is referred to in connection with English law or jurisdiction, it is evident that a certain part was held to appertain to the crown. In an article in the Black Book of the Admiralty which is ascribed to the reign of Henry I. (A.D. 1100-1135), reference is made to “the sea belonging to the king of England”; in John’s ordinance of 1201 the term was simply “the sea” (la mer), but very commonly it was “our sea,” or the “sea of England,” or “the sea under the dominion or jurisdiction of the king”; while the declaration is often made that the kings of England are lords of the sea or of the English sea.5 Similar phrases were used in later times. Thus Queen Elizabeth spoke of “our seas of England and Ireland,” and James of “his seas” and “streams,” as did also Charles I.; and such terms as “the adjacent sea,” the “environing seas,” the “ambient seas,” and “the seas flowing about the isle,” were not uncommonly used.6 Still more common and scarcely more definite was the term the “Four Seas of England,” or simply the “Four Seas,” which was employed as early as the thirteenth century in law books, statutes, and official documents, as indicating the boundaries of the realm in connection with legal proceedings. Within the four seas (infra or intra quatuor maria; dedeinz les quaters meers) was to be within the realm; and without the four seas (extra quatuor maria, oultre les quaters meers) was to be without the realm.7

In the seventeenth century, when the English pretension to the sovereignty of the sea was at its height, Coke, Selden, Prynne, and others maintained that to be on the four seas, as well as within them, was to be within the realm, under the jurisdiction of the Admiralty, and this doctrine was held, at least formally, as late as 1830.8 Rarely the “Three Seas” are mentioned,9 and less rarely the “Two Seas,” by which was meant the two arms of the sea passing respectively between England and France, and England and Flanders, and corresponding to one of the meanings of the Narrow Sea.

The term, the Narrow Sea or the Narrow Seas, was applied at different times or by different writers to very various areas. In its original and more restricted sense it denoted the Straits of Dover; sometimes it signified only the southern sea or the Channel proper; at other times it included also the sea south of the Wash and the Texel; and yet again it was synonymous with the whole of the British seas in which dominion was claimed. In the political poem, The Libelle of Englyshe Polycye, which was written about 1436 with the object of rousing the nation to the paramount duty of “keeping the sea,” the narrow sea is spoken of as lying between Dover and Calais,10 as it is also in the records of the Privy Council for 1545, which mention the appointment of ships to “kepe the passage of the Narrow Seas.”11 Later in the same century, and very generally in the seventeenth century, it was used to include the Channel, as when the Earl of Salisbury in 1609 referred to “his Majesties narrow seas between England and France,”12 and likewise the sea off the Dutch coast; and at this period the Admiralty usually distinguished between the guard of the Narrow Seas and that of the North Sea.

But in other cases, and very commonly in the seventeenth century, the Narrow Sea was equivalent to the marginal sea along the whole coast or to the “British Seas.” Thus in one of James’s proclamations in 1604 for preventing abuses in and about “the narrow seas,” they are referred to as being commonly called the four English Seas, and this was repeated in a proclamation of Charles I. in 1633. So also Lord Chief Justice Hale in his treatise, De Jure Maris, describes the narrow sea, adjoining to the coast of England, as part of the waste and demesnes and dominions of the King of England; and in another work he speaks of the narrow sea lying between us and France and the Netherlands.

After the union of the Crowns the “British Seas” were very often referred to, and there was equal want of definition of their limits as in the case of the Sea of England. The advocates of the English claims to the sovereignty of the sea assigned them a wide but vague extent, while the Dutch argued that the British Sea was the Channel, the Mare Britannicum of Ptolemy and others, the North Sea being distinct and known as Oceanus Germanicus. In many of the diplomatic negotiations that took place on the subject there were heated discussions as to the meaning of the term the “British Seas,” and in point of fact the British representatives, like the Admiralty itself, were unable to define them. The only serious attempt which was made to define the Sea of England or the British Seas in relation to the claim to its sovereignty was made by Selden in 1635. It did not fail on the side of modesty, for according to him the Sea of England was “that which flows between England and the opposite shores and ports.”13 More particularly in the opening chapter of his second book he describes the British Sea (Oceanus Britannicus) as being divided into four parts according to the four quarters of the world. On the west lay the Vergivian Sea, also called the Deucaledonian Sea where it washes the coasts of Scotland, and in which Ireland is placed; on the east is the German Ocean, so called by Ptolemy because it lies opposite the German shore; on the south, between England and France, is the sea especially noted by Ptolemy as the British Sea, the Mare Britannicum; but in reality all the sea extending along the shores of France through the Bay of Aquitaine (Bay of Biscay) as far as the northern coast of Spain was British. Since the northern and western ocean stretches to a great distance, to America, Iceland, and Greenland, and to parts unknown, it could not “all be called British,” but inasmuch as the King of Great Britain had very large rights in those seas, beyond the extent of the British name, it was not wholly to be left out of account. The indefiniteness of these boundaries to the north and west is obvious, but in a chart which he furnished, and which is reproduced in the frontispiece of this book, he presumably represented what he regarded as the British seas proper; and in several places in his work he expressly declared that the English sea and the English sovereignty of the sea extended to the opposite shores of the Continent.

Throughout almost the whole of the remainder of the century after the appearance of Mare Clausum, Selden’s authority was paramount on all questions relating to the sovereignty of the sea, and his description of the extent of the British seas was very generally adopted, both by writers and by the Government, at least in theory. But it not infrequently happened on particular occasions when a precise definition of their extent was required, that only a vague declaration was forthcoming. Again and again one finds English admirals and naval commanders imploring the Admiralty to tell them the bounds of the British seas, so that needless broils about the salute might be avoided. As a rule, no reply was given to their inquiries; and when it was, it was usually so oracular as to be of little practical advantage. Thus the Earl of Lindsey, when placed in command of the first ship-money fleet, put the question to Secretary Coke, and was told that his Majesty’s seas “are all about his dominions, and to the largest extent of those seas,” and similar explanations were given on other occasions. There is evidence that neither the Admiralty nor the law officers of the crown were able to state what the boundaries of the British seas were, and sometimes the Trinity House was appealed to, with but little better result. In truth, it was part of the national policy to leave their boundaries undetermined. The free navigation of the North Sea and the Channel was of vital importance for many of the states of Europe, and three of them at least—the Netherlands, France, and Spain—had large interests in the fisheries on the British and Irish coasts. If this country had by a formal act of state assigned definite and wide boundaries to the British seas within which sovereignty was claimed, it would have led to frequent and hopeless wars or to constant humiliation. By leaving them vague and ambiguous the pretension to maritime sovereignty could be put forward and used as a political instrument when the navy was strong and occasion offered, and when the navy was weak the pretension might fall into the background without the national honour being unduly tarnished. But on the whole, the claim to the sovereignty of the so-called British seas became an anachronism and was allowed to die out from practical affairs, surviving only in the pages of historians, naval writers, and pamphleteers. During the almost constant naval wars in the eighteenth century a new principle came into being for the delimitation of the neutral waters of a state, the extent of the adjacent open sea that might be appropriated being determined by the range of guns from the shore. All the water within reach of cannon-shot could be protected and commanded by artillery on the land, and thus made susceptible of exclusive and permanent dominion. This principle was accepted very generally by the various maritime Powers as offering a just and equitable means of fixing the limits of their territorial waters, within which the bordering state had exclusive sovereign jurisdiction. It has also been accepted by the great majority of modern publicists, and the phrase of Bynkershoek, “terrÆ dominium finitur ubi finitur armorum vis,” has become enshrined in the Law of Nations.

Later, and mainly through the action and practice of the United States of America and Great Britain since the end of the eighteenth century, the distance of three miles from shore was more or less formally adopted by most maritime states as equivalent to the range of guns, and as more definitely fixing the limits of their jurisdiction and rights for various purposes, and, in particular, for exclusive fishery. At the time the three-mile limit was introduced, that distance did indeed represent the farthest range of artillery, so that the boundary was the same in each case; and it was sufficient to secure to neutrals that their coasts should not be violated by the operations of belligerents carried on beyond three miles from the shore, while at the same time it furnished a practical measure of the extent of the protection that neutral Powers were bound to afford to the vessels of one belligerent from attacks by the other. But all this is changed. Guns are now able to throw shells to a distance of fifteen miles and more, and the three-mile limit has become quite inadequate to secure the coasts of a neutral from damage from the guns of belligerents engaged in hostilities in the waters near their shores. The argument is not uncommonly used that inasmuch as Great Britain is the predominant maritime Power, it is to her advantage that the territorial waters of all countries should be as narrow as possible. The wider the theatre the better chance for our navy, either in engaging the battle fleets of the enemy or in capturing his shipping. The importance of the change in the conditions referred to above is overlooked. There has been no great maritime war in Europe since the three-mile limit was adopted as the equivalent of the range of guns. If and when another maritime war unfortunately breaks out, it would be absurd to suppose that the neutral Powers within the sphere of possible operations would be content with a three-mile limit to safeguard the security of their coasts. As provided for in the rules drawn up by the Institute of International Law, their duty would be to prohibit all hostilities within such distance of their coasts as would render them secure, and this in turn would involve the immunity from capture within the same space of the merchant vessels of one of the belligerents by the vessels of the other. And thus if this country were engaged in a great maritime war, such as occurred a century or so ago, a very considerable belt of sea on neutral coasts would be closed to the operations of the fleet, and the conditions of naval warfare would be profoundly changed.

With regard to the other questions of sovereignty or exclusive rights in the seas washing the coasts of a country, it is becoming more and more recognised that there is no reason in nature why the boundary for one purpose should be the boundary for all purposes. Just as the three-mile limit is now obsolete in respect to belligerents and neutrals in time of war, so is it inadequate in all cases with regard to the protection and preservation of the sea fisheries. In the concluding chapters of this book it is shown that all recent inquiries by Parliament into the condition of the fisheries, especially of the North Sea, have resulted in proving the inadequacy of the present limit for fishery regulations, and in recommendations that the subject should be dealt with internationally by the various countries concerned.