Chapter VII: CHARLES I.--continued. THE NAVY (2)

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]