Chapter I: The Navy of the Tudors Till the Accession of Elizabeth (2)

In this as in other cases England owed a great deal to the geographical position which saved her from the temptations and necessities besetting her rival. It is enough to say that from 1514 to 1544 the English fleet carried troops across the Channel or escorted the armies marching into Scotland, practically unresisted. This interval was, however, of great importance in the history of the navy. The establishment of the Navy Office was not completed till 1546, but the dockyards were more thoroughly organised, and were greatly extended. There was still very much to be done in the formation of a permanent service. A certain lingering confusion between the Navy Royal and the general shipping of the country probably accounts for the king's decision to leave the management of Deptford Dockyard in the hands of the Trinity House. But the tendency was always towards the formation of special services to be employed for definite ends. Although no regular naval service was as yet formed, the foundations were laid. Even when there was no expedition to be carried out against the French or the Scotch, the king took care never to leave the seas without their winter or their summer guard--small squadrons of vessels appointed to patrol the Straits and the Channel. This force was very small--in quiet times hardly exceeding six or seven little vessels, and the crews were hired only for the summer or winter commission. The fact that a man had commanded a ship in one or other guard did not give him any right to continued employment, but from the very nature of the case a certain continuity of service would arise. Officers who proved satisfactory, or had good friends at court, were employed again and again, and the king's captains began to be a recognised body; while it is safe to presume that there were some soldiers and mariners who found his service more acceptable than that of private employers, and who volunteered into it with regularity. It was during these years, too, that the first efforts to improve the construction of ships were made by the introduction of skilled shipwrights from the Italian ports. Of these Henry must have had a respectable staff in constant employment. When the =Mary Rose= was sunk at St. Helens, the efforts made to raise her were mainly directed by Italian workmen.

After neglecting, or if not actually neglecting, then subordinating, the naval strength of his kingdom to his armies, and to much less worthy purposes, for thirty years, Francis I. was at last driven into making a desperate effort at sea by the capture of Boulogne in 1544. When the King of England had appeared in France at the head of an army of 30,000 men, and had added another defensible position to the fortress he already possessed at Calais, the unwisdom of leaving him the command of the Channel was borne in upon Francis with a force which aroused him to efforts really worthy of the occasion. In the spring of 1545 (the operations of the previous year had merely been the transport of the army, and a few plundering expeditions) preparations were made on both sides for something deserving to be called war. The King of France built ships in batches, and brought from the Mediterranean not only his own galleys, but large numbers of vessels hired from the Ragusans, whom our ancestors called the Aragoozes. The superiority of the fleet which he was soon able to command might have taught a French ruler how very possible it was for his great monarchy, then certainly more than twice as populous and rich as England, to excel her in the number of her fleets. The English were outnumbered from the first, and knew it. In the spring of 1545, Lord Lisle, then Henry's admiral, and the famous or infamous Duke of Northumberland of the next reign, made his appearance on the coast of France with a scheme for attacking the French in the Seine; but he did not carry it into effect, and the explanation that he found his enemy too strong is at least the most plausible. When the French put to sea, the English certainly acted in a manner to be expected of men who felt themselves overmatched. They retired into Portsmouth harbour, and allowed the French admiral, D'Annebault, to advance to the anchorage of St. Helens, and establish himself there unopposed. The real strength of the French fleet was by no means in proportion to its numbers. A large part of the ships were galleys, which were of little or no use except in a dead calm. It seems, too, that the spirits of the French fleet had been a good deal damped by a disaster which happened before they left Havre. A great vessel, the _Philippe_, the most beautiful in the world according to the French writers, caught fire in the harbour of Havre, and burned to the water's edge. Blaise de Montluc, who saw the disaster, immediately formed the conclusion that no good would come of the enterprise; and if he, who was the most intrepid of mankind, had come to this gloomy conclusion, we may be sure that there were plenty more in the fleet who were not in a more confident spirit.

A much more trustworthy indication of the little result to be expected from the enterprise would have been the want of spirit of the officers chosen to command by the French king. They had, in reality, an immense superiority of strength. One hundred and fifty "great ships," and at least a hundred smaller vessels, were collected under the command of D'Annebault, and the troops amounted to eight or ten thousand men under the command of Marshal Biez. The force was amply sufficient to strike such a blow to England as would have very rapidly compelled Henry to restore Boulogne, if it had been used with any degree of resolution, but the French leaders were from the beginning on the outlook for difficulties. They left Havre on the 16th of July, and two days later made their appearance on the coast of Sussex, where they spent some time in plundering insignificant fishing villages. No attempt to molest them was made by the English fleet, which lay quiet in Portsmouth harbour. After doing just enough on the coast of Sussex to arouse the whole countryside, the French fleet came on to the Isle of Wight, and anchored at St. Helens. Here they remained, apparently for about ten days, neither attacking with determination, nor being attacked to any purpose. The fine July weather and the prevailing calms were wholly in favour of the French, whose fleet consisted largely of galleys. On the English side, a number of the smaller vessels had been fitted with sweeps, in order that they might act against the rowing vessels of the enemy. But neither did they show any particular zeal to attack. The king himself had come down to Portsmouth to survey the fortifications, and if courtly historians did not praise him too much, it was at his suggestion that the English vessels were provided with oars. Henry did not stay to witness the fighting (if it deserves that name) which ensued, but returned to London, leaving the command of the fleet to Lisle, and of the garrison to Suffolk. The operations were of a very monotonous description, and leave us under the impression that each side was reluctant to fight till it had the other at a hopeless disadvantage.

On the first day the French admiral sent forward sixteen galleys under the command of the Baron de la Garde, for the purpose of drawing the English admiral out to St. Helens, where he might be overpowered by numbers. Lisle was resolute not to be tempted to put himself at a disadvantage. Indeed, the plan was rather a futile one, which it hardly needed any great display of skill on the part of the English admiral to defeat. The galleys were not able to face the king's ships when any wind was blowing. They were very lightly built, and carried only one gun in the bow. If the English ships were able to manoeuvre, they could either overpower their enemy by the fire of their broadsides, or, better still, run into them and sink them. Such a vessel as the =Great Harry= running before a good breeze would probably have gone over a galley without suffering any material damage herself. Therefore the vessels sent by D'Annebault could not, without extreme rashness, come within striking distance of the English fleet, except in a dead calm. When, however, the weather was of this kind, the English ships were unable to move, and could not sail into the French fleet even if they had been disposed to do so. The fight, then, between the two resolved itself into something like this. During the calm hours of the morning, the Baron de la Garde and his colleague Strozzi, the Prior of Capua (the same who afterwards took the castle of St. Andrews from the Scotch Reformers, and had John Knox for his prisoner), came near enough to Lisle's ships to open an exasperating fire. So long as the wind did not get up, the English vessels lay helpless, and could only reply to the fire of their enemy with the few guns they could bring to bear. In such a case, the galleys at all times took care, as far as possible, to station themselves right ahead or else astern of their opponent, in order to avoid the fire of the broadside, though this, considering the rude gunnery of the early sixteenth century, was almost an excessive precaution, since the narrow, low-lying galley, when end on, must have presented a mark much more likely to be missed than to be hit. When the breeze got up, the English ships stood toward the enemy, who thereupon incontinently fled, and was not followed for any considerable distance. This moment was dangerous for him, for if he did not turn quick enough and get away before the English were quite close, he was likely to suffer very severely, for the galleys carried no guns astern. La Garde and the Prior of Capua were expert officers, and when, after some hours of long bowls, the wind got up and the English ships began to bear down, they extricated themselves very smartly from danger.

The first day having thus passed in a species of fighting which might have been prolonged for weeks with little material damage to either side, the French went on for a second, but not apparently for a third day. Yet, on this occasion, they were encouraged by the conviction that they had really inflicted a severe loss on the English fleet. There had been a loss, but it was due, unless all contemporary Englishmen were in a conspiracy to conceal the truth, to something more discreditable to us than the enemy's cannon. The king's ship, the =Mary Rose=, had been thrown away by pure mismanagement. This was the vessel so ardently praised by Sir Edward Howard in the words quoted already. She capsized as she was coming out of Portsmouth harbour, owing, as it would seem, partly to defects in her construction, partly to neglect of precautions on the part of her crew. The lower-deck ports are said to have been only sixteen inches above the water-line, which is certainly dangerously low. As her crew were tacking her, or altering her course in some other way, she heeled over. If the ports had been shut and the guns made fast, no great harm might have followed, but the ports were open and the guns cast loose. When the water rushed in, the additional weight caused the vessel, overburdened as she was with the weight of her fore and after castles, to heel still further, and then the unfastened guns fell in a rush on the lee-side, probably breaking through wherever they fell against the planking. The =Mary Rose= filled and sank with such amazing rapidity, that of the 400 soldiers and 200 sailors, more or less, who formed her crew, not more than 40 were saved.

The pardonable conviction that they were entitled to credit themselves with the destruction of the =Mary Rose= had no very inspiriting influence on the French. M. d'Annebault even gave up making any further attacks to draw the English ships out by the use of his galleys, and adopted the alternative course of landing small parties of men in St. Helens Bay, at Shanklin, and the Blackgang Chine, for the purpose of plundering the country. None of these landing-parties seem to have been of any strength, and several of them were roughly handled by the militia of the island. D'Annebault has been severely criticised by his countrymen for want of energy, and on the whole with justice. He excused himself, partly by pleading that if he had landed a great number of men, he would have so weakened his fleet that the English at Portsmouth could have fallen upon him with every prospect of success, and partly by the opinion of a council of war. The first of these excuses is very lame, for at a later period D'Annebault could afford to put four thousand men on shore in France, and yet be strong enough to give battle to Lisle at Shoreham. He could certainly have landed three thousand in the Isle of Wight, and if he had done so he might have retaliated very severely for the damage done by the English in France, while the ships at Portsmouth must have incurred deep discredit if they had lain idle while the houses of their countrymen were being burned before their eyes. The council of war is only technically a better excuse. He did indeed call a council of all the pilots in his fleet, to ask them whether it was possible to attack the English at Portsmouth with success. The pilots, as might have been expected, magnified the dangers and the difficulties--the shoals, the narrowness of the entry, the currents, the tides, the risk that the first vessels entering would be overpowered, and block the way for those following, the chance that a ship anchoring in a tideway would swing stern-on to the English fire, and, in short, all the topics of dissuasion which are usually advanced by subordinates on such occasions. If the expert knowledge of pilots had been listened to by Nelson, he would never have fought the battle of the Baltic. Fortunately for King Henry VIII., D'Annebault does not seem to have reflected that you can hardly hope to inflict serious injury upon an enemy who possesses some effective strength, except at the very serious risk of being hurt yourself. He wanted, to judge by his actions, to win without running any serious risk; and as the enemy with whom he had to deal was not one likely to give him a victory upon these easy terms, he had finally to retire without delivering an effective stroke. His timidity and want of resource are strikingly illustrated by the fact that he made no use of his galleys for the purpose of towing his great ships into Spithead, which they could easily have done. On the other hand, it must be confessed that no very great enterprise was shown by the English in the use of their own row-boats. We neither hear of them as being employed to tow the big ships into action, nor of any really serious attack made by them upon the galleys. Perhaps the fate of Sir Edward Howard was too fresh in the recollections of our officers to allow of any repetition of his attempt in Conquet Bay.

Whether any considerable number of men were either killed or wounded in these very languid operations is doubtful, but both fleets certainly lost heavily from a cause which, throughout the whole of this and the following two centuries, was far more destructive than the sword. Hardly had King Henry VIII. left Portsmouth when his generals began to report to him the prevalence of sickness in his fleet; while the plague broke out amongst the French at St. Helens, even if it had not begun before they left Havre. Overcrowding, dirt, and salt food were universal in old fleets, and they produced their natural effects. We are probably well within the mark in supposing that for every man killed in action, or mortally wounded, fifty died of fever or the plague, and this continued to be the rule until well past the middle of the eighteenth century. What between disappointment at the obstinacy of the English in not fighting him on his own terms, the timidity of his pilots, and want of enterprise, D'Annebault, after spending several days in this futile manner, sailed away from St. Helens, coasting along Sussex, and making, as before, small plundering attacks, which even seem to have been very badly conducted, and could in any case serve no purpose except to embitter the already sufficiently savage hostility of the two countries. After a few days of this, he stood over to the coast of France, and near Boulogne landed not only four thousand soldiers, but three thousand pioneers, who had been supplied to him for the purpose of erecting the fortifications in the Isle of Wight. Even after this he still thought himself sufficiently strong to return to the English coast, and he reappeared accordingly in a few days.

On their return to the coast of England, the French made no attempt to renew the attack on the Isle of Wight. They prowled along the shores of Sussex and of Kent in what reads like a very aimless manner. If they had any definite object, it was to prevent the English from sending reinforcements to Boulogne. On the whole, it does appear likely that they had some such purpose, for the general direction of their cruise was towards the narrow seas. So soon as they were relieved from their fears at Portsmouth, the English ships were ordered out to observe the French. It appears, from a letter of Lisle's to Paget, that he had been instructed by the king to remain at Spithead.

"Havyng received your letters, this morninge, wherein I do perceyve the Kinges Majesties plesser, as concerninge the settinge forwardes of His Majesties navy towardes the Narro Sees, wher, as it aperith, the Frenche men doo tryhumphe, I truste ther shalbe no tyme forslowyde in the advauncement and settinge forth of His Majesties plesser in that behalfe; and I moste humbly thanke His Majestie, that it hath plesed the same to gyve me libertye to look towardes theyme, for I never thought my selfe in prisone tyll now, syns the tyme of our lyinge here, and doe no servis. I truste in God that we shall departe hense uppon Tusdaye, yf the wynde will serve us."

When they did depart hence, some time was spent in finding the exact whereabouts of the triumphing French. Lisle sent vessels to look into Havre, who reported that a great part, if not all, of the French fleet had returned. This, however, must have been a mistake, for D'Annebault had certainly come back to the north side of the Channel immediately after landing his men at Boulogne. Between the 9th of August, the date of the letter quoted, and the 15th, Lisle found the enemy somewhere in the neighbourhood of Shoreham. The orders he had taken in view of the expected battle are particularly interesting, not only for what they tell of the sea fighting of the time, but because they contain the first mention of much which appears continuously during the succeeding centuries of our naval history.

The fleet under Lisle's orders consisted in all of 104 vessels. He had divided them into three squadrons, respectively called the Vanwarde, the Battle, and the Wing. All three terms were taken from the military language of the time. The Battle was the usual name of the main or central division in the army, the Vanwarde needs no explanation, and we may suppose that the Wing was used to describe the third division, later called the Rear. This is the division into Red, White, and Blue squadrons, which became established in the naval wars of the seventeenth century. These titles were taken from the flags which finally came into use. In 1545 the only flags shown were the Royal Standard or "Banner of the King's Majesty's Arms," and the Cross of St. George or English Ensign. Lisle provided for distinguishing his own flagship from those of his subordinates by ordering that she should bear the Royal Standard at the main, and one flag of St. George's Cross at the fore. The ships of his division were to carry the St. George's Cross at the main. The admiral of the Vanwarde was to carry two flags of St. George--one at the main, and the other at the fore. The ships of his division were to carry their St. George's Cross at the foretopmasthead. The admiral of the Wing was to carry the English Ensign at the mizen, and every ship of his division was to do the same. It does not appear that the ships in this division were distinguished in any way from the flagship. By night the admiral carried three lights--one great lantern on the poop, and two smaller lights in the midst of the bonaventure mizen shrouds. The bonaventure mizen was a very small mast at the extreme end of the ship, where the smaller mast of a yawl is now placed. The admiral of the Vanwarde carried two lights, and the admiral of the Wing one light, on the bonaventure shrouds. The last articles of the sailing orders were, "The watch wourde in the night shalbe thus, 'God save King Henrye'; thother shall aunswer, 'And long to raign over us.'" This has been supposed to be the germ of the National Anthem.

In strength the fleet was divided as follows:--The Van consisted of 24 ships, carrying 3800 men, the Battle of 40, with 6846 men. Lisle himself was in this division, with the flag in the =Henry Grace à Dieu=. The Wing was of 40 smaller vessels, carrying only 2092 men. Perhaps the most interesting of the admiral's fighting orders is the third--

"Item, when we shall se a convenient tyme to fight with thenimies, our Vanward shall make with ther Vanwarde, if they have any; and if they be in one compenye, our Vanward (takyng thadvauntage of the wynde) shall set uppon ther foremost ranck, bryngyng them oute of order; and our Vice-Admirall shall seake to bourd their Vice-Admirall, and every capitaign shall chose his equall, as nere as he maye."

In the thirty years which had passed since the death of Sir Edward Howard, some progress had been made towards establishing a recognised order of battle. Practice, helped no doubt by speculation, had brought our admirals to see the necessity of a regular method. In this disposition to stretch all along an enemy, and engage him from end to end, we have the first indication of that line of battle of which so much will be heard. It was the natural formation of a fleet relying on its broadside as its means of offence. But the line of battle may be left to grow a little more clearly defined before we discuss it. What is for the present of interest is to point out that the principle upon which the great majority of our naval battles have been fought, was present, not in germ, but fully developed, in this third item of Lisle's orders. It contains, in fact, the whole of the famous Article XIX. of the Fighting Instructions. The van was to steer with the enemy's van, the centre with his centre, and the rear with his rear, and the captains were to take "every man his bird." In time this became a sheer pedantry, and a burden under which the ablest officers of the navy chafed for a generation, until a happy accident encouraged them to throw it off. But in 1545 it was a progress, since any kind of order was in advance of none at all, and there was no hope of finally attaining a good system except by a series of experiments,--in other words, by successively trying everything that was wrong, and rejecting it.

The correspondence of the Lord Admiral was otherwise interesting. There was, for instance, admirable sense in the reasons he gives for not appointing two captains to the vessels fitted as galleys.

"And wher as His Majesties plesser ys to have to capitaynes and leaders of His Highnes rowyng peces, I do think, yf it may so stande with His Highnes plesser, that one shall do His Majestie better servis then too. For if theyr be too rulers, one will have his mynde, thother wil have his; if any thinge frame a mys, thone will excuse him by thother; the resydue under theym will excuse theym by two comanders; 'he bed me do that, and tother this.' Yf theyr be butt one, having chardge, nether he that hath the chardge commytted only to him, nether thos which be under one, hath any soche excuse."

Lisle's correspondence contains also several incidental notices of the ships under his command, which are valuable as showing the unseaworthiness of even the best vessels of the time. Thus, for instance, he writes on the 20th of August to Lord St. John: "This shall be to advise you that the King's Majesty's new ship called =The Mistress= is in such case with labouring in this foul weather, that she is not able to keep the seas, without spoiling of her masts, and tackle overboard. Her mainstay is loose in the partners, and the cross-trestles both of her foremast, and also of her mainmast are broken." The foul weather of which Lisle complains must have been experienced between the middle of July and the latter half of August. At that season it would certainly have been thought extraordinary, in the eighteenth century, that a new ship should have been so strained by weather alone as to be under the necessity of returning immediately to port. It does not appear that Lisle made any complaint of the work done on the =Mistress=, or that he attached any blame to her officers. He rather accepted this instant disabling of this vessel, which, be it observed, was the flagship of the Wing, as a dispensation of Providence to be borne with patience. Nor was the =Mistress= by any means the only ship of his fleet which had broken down under the strain of a few weeks' cruising in summer.

On the 21st Lisle writes again to St. John--

"I trust your Lordshipp have advertised the Kinges Majestie of the state of the =Mystres=, and of the Gallye =Subtill=, and the foyste, which I suppose wooll be hable to do no more sarvice, until they be amended. And if the French armye shuld retourne agayne this yere to the sees, which verilly I rather thynck they wooll not, we shuld have no small mysse of those three peeces. There be allso in this armye dyvers shippes, which, after another storme, wooll be hable to loke no more abroode this yere. And I thynck our enimies be in as evill cace, or worse. For emonges such a nomber of shippes, as they have, and as we have, all cannot be strong, nor all cannot be well tackled."

If it appears, as on a bare narrative of the facts it must, that both fleets showed a singular languor during their movements in this summer campaign, it is only fair to take into account the quality of the instruments with which the admirals had to deal. It was not possible to do anything very rapid with clumsy, ill-balanced vessels, which were overstrained by a summer breeze. Moreover, both leaders were in reality hampered by what they no doubt considered an element of strength. The numbers of their fleets alone would have made any kind of combined action impossible. At a time when the vessels were incomparably better, and our seamen had a far larger experience, Nelson considered it impossible to manoeuvre more than thirty ships in a line of battle. That is to say, he thought it beyond the power of the most skilful and practised body of captains ever collected under one command to combine the movements of more than thirty well-constructed ships in such a manner that they could be brought to bear upon an enemy all together. If this was impossible with so small a number of very superior vessels, we can imagine how hopeless must have been the attempt of D'Annebault or Lisle to direct the movements of a hundred and a hundred and fifty inferior vessels of all sorts and sizes. With the best will in the world, they could not but straggle in the variable summer breezes and the tides of the Channel. Besides, the system of signals was hardly yet in existence. There were, and indeed at all times must have been, a few arbitrary signals, to anchor or to get up anchor, to fight or leave off fighting, and so forth, but there were no means by which an admiral could communicate an order to make a particular movement, except by sending a boat with an officer. Of course this implies that the movements of fleets must have been very slow, or else a messenger who had to row could not have overtaken the captain to whom he was sent. Even so, to send orders to the ships ahead of the admiral must have required an amount of time which made any rapidity of movement impossible, besides leaving an interval for accidents which would render the order improper by altering the whole circumstances. In fact, no battle, in the sense the word had in even the seventeenth century, could well be expected to take place between these two fleets in 1545, even if there had been a more manifest desire on the part of the admirals to bring one on.

The truth is, that neither D'Annebault nor Lisle showed any such inclination. The Frenchman returned from his own coast to ours, and began to stretch along it from west to east. Lisle followed, with the intention of making a stroke at the enemy if a particularly tempting opportunity presented itself. On the 9th of August he wrote to Paget: "If we chance to meet with them, divided as it should seem they be, we shall have some sport with them." From the French account in the memoirs of Martin du Bellay, which is both full and fair, it is clear that D'Annebault was no more adventurous than Lisle. On the coast of Sussex he showed the same incapacity to understand that, in war more than in most enterprises, he who will nothing venture shall nothing have. The English fleet came in sight of the French near Shoreham on the 15th of August. D'Annebault had drawn his vessels as close to the beach as was safe, with his galleys to the west, under a small headland, and therefore between his great ships and the English, who were advancing from Portsmouth. The galleys had been hauled into very shallow water, where the larger of Lisle's ships could not reach them. D'Annebault's calculation was, that the English admiral would not care to run the risk of passing the galleys, for the purpose of attacking the great ships beyond, lest they should fall upon his rear, and so put him between two fires. According to Lisle's statement to the king of the plan on which he intended to fight, he would not have been deterred from attacking by the dispositions of the French admiral. He had made counter arrangements which were skilful in intention, and might have been effective. His plan was to fall upon the great ships of the French fleet, with the Vanwarde and the Battle, leaving the smaller craft which formed the Wing to stay behind, or to windward, and ward off the French galleys. A shift of the wind from the west to north-east rendered it impossible for him to carry out his intention. The change in the wind had transferred the weather-gage to D'Annebault, and if he had been as eager for battle as according to Martin du Bellay he asserted himself to be, he had now an admirable opportunity of fighting. But D'Annebault again found insuperable difficulties in the way of coming to close quarters. All the use he made of his chance was to fight a tardy, inconclusive battle. Martin du Bellay and Lord Lisle substantially agree, but we may give the preference to our own countryman.

"After my right hartie commendacions. Theis shalbe tadvertise you, that the Kinges Majesties navie ys arrived twhart of Beauchif; where, for lack of wynde, we be at this present comme to ancker, to stopp this ebbe, and with the nexte fludd, which wooll be aboute foure of the clock in the mornying, we entend (God willing) tapplye towards Dover. I had thought the French fleete wold have been here before me, to have stopped us at this place, for uppon Saturdaye night last, both they and we came to ancker within a leage togethurs; and all the same daye, frome noone untill night, they assailed us with ther gallyes, but ther hole fleete approached us not, untill it was after son settyng; before which tyme ther gallies were repulced, and then both they and we came to ancker, within a leage one of an other: and yarly in the mornyng they were dislodged; for by the tyme yt was daye, they were asfarre unto the wynde of us, as we might escrye them oute of my mayne topp, halyng into the seawarde, the wynde beyng somewhat fresshe; so that, if they had taried, ther gallyes could have doon them letill pleasour. And wheras, the daye before, they came togethurs, like an hole wood, they kepte now, in ther removing, noon order; for some of our small boates, which could lye best by a wynde, (whome I dyd purposely send to se what course they helde, and what order they kept) brought me wourde, that they lay est with the sailes, as though it shuld seame that they mynded to fetche the Narrow Sees before us. Ther was five myles in lenght (as they thought) between ther foremost and ther hyndermost shippes. And seyng that they be not here in this baye (which we have alredy seane) I cannot perceave, howe they can be before us in any part of the Narrow Sees. Wherefore I have thought good to desyer you to send me some of your intelligence, and allso that you wold gyve knowledge to Rye, that all the shippes, which be there with the Kinges Majesties victualles, may comme and mete with me to morowe at the Nasse (Dungeness), as I goe towardes Dover; where, (God willyng) if the wynde wooll suffer me, I wooll be with thole flete to morowe at night. Herof I requier you, with diligence, tadvertise the Kinges Majestie. And if ther armye, or any parte of them, remayne in any parte of the Narrowe Sees, whethur it be uppon ther owne quoast, or uppon oures, I doubt not but I wooll have some knowledge of them, ones ere to morowe night; wherof allso (God willyng) I wooll not faile to signifye unto His Highnes. And thus I byd you right hartilly well to fare. In the Harrye, under Beauchif, this Mondaye, the 17th of August, at 9 of the clock in the night."

Your assured loving Frende,

(Signed) John Lisle.

To this lame and impotent conclusion came the great attempt of Francis I. to punish Henry for the capture of Boulogne. When every allowance is made for the insufficiency of the tools with which the French admiral had to work, it is impossible to acquit him of having shown a remarkable want of spirit. It would appear, if we are to trust Blaise de Montluc, that his countrymen did not expect much. "Our business is rather on the land than on the water, where I do not know that our nation has ever gained any great battles," is the sentence in which he dismisses the expedition. Montluc, for his part, did nothing that was worthy to be written about. But it was perhaps because the French did not expect much, then or at later periods, that their admirals have so commonly shown the timidity of D'Annebault.

The war contained no further naval operations of any importance. Both fleets were worn out by operations which for the time were lengthy and trying. The Governments, too, were exhausted, and all but bankrupt. Both Francis and Henry VIII. were at the end of their lives; and although peace was not actually made till after the death of both of them, the war was not pushed seriously. Only a very detailed history of the navy could find place for an account of the reigns of Edward VI. and Mary Tudor. Much could not be said, however anxious the historian might be to pass over absolutely nothing. The only achievement of Edward VI.'s Government with regard to the navy was to employ it for the purpose of assisting the Protector Somerset's invasion of Scotland. This effort appears to have exhausted the energies of King Edward's Council, as far as the navy was concerned. In fact, all the members of that body were far too busy intriguing against one another, to attend to the defences of the realm. The resources of the country had been taxed to the utmost during the reign of Henry VIII. A sum of over £3,600,000 was calculated to have been spent on wars during the reign of father and son, and to get the equivalent of that outlay in our generation we must not only multiply the sum spent by 20, but divide the existing wealth of the nation by some much larger figure. During the few years of confusion which make up the reign of Edward VI., the navy was reduced to half the numbers attained by Henry VIII. Seventy-one vessels, of which thirty were of respectable size, was the strength of Henry's navy. Queen Elizabeth never had quite so many ships; and although those of James and Charles I. were on an average larger, they were never more numerous. Mary Tudor inherited the diminished navy of her brother, and she could do little to bring it back to the former standard. Her marriage with the King of Spain established a firm alliance, for the time being, with what was then the most considerable naval power in Europe, while the entire exhaustion of France in the reign of Henry II. made the possession of a powerful fleet less necessary. But though little was demanded of the navy at that period, it was allowed to become too weak to do even that little. When Calais was attacked by the Duke of Guise in the winter of 1559, Mary's navy was so unprepared that it could not be got ready in time to give the least assistance to the garrison. A few of our ships, which had been fitted out too late to be of any service at Calais, did make their appearance on the flank of the French troops, which were defeated on the sands at Gravelines, by the Count of Egmont, and that was about the sum of the service they rendered during Mary's reign. There was indeed something stirring among the seamen of the west of England, which was to have great consequences in the next reign, but it will come to be dealt with more appropriately in our account of the navy of Queen Elizabeth.