Philip of Spain, arriving in the Straits of Dover on his journey to England to espouse Mary, flaunts the flag of Spain without paying the customary salute. Lord Howard of Effingham, the English admiral, soon brings him to his senses by firing a round shot across his bows.
The officers in command of royal ships or fleets were not expected to refer the matter to higher authority, but were to take action at once, and made no bones about doing so. Innumerable instances may be quoted—the only difficulty is to pick out the most interesting cases. Nor were they respectors of persons. When the gloomy and saturnine Philip of Spain arrived in British waters, on his way to espouse our Queen Mary, he came with great pomp and circumstance with a fleet of 100 sail, flaunting the gaudy flag of Spain even in the Straits of Dover. Lord Howard of Effingham, sent with a guard of honour of 28 men-of-war to meet the Prince Consort elect, had no idea of allowing that even in this very special case, and, seeing no disposition on the part of the Spanish fleet to pay the customary salute, lost no time in sending over a gentle reminder in the shape of a round shot.
The hint was taken, and not till then did Howard go on board to pay his respects to King Philip. Not many years later a Spanish fleet which was on its way to Flanders, to bring Anne of Austria back to Spain, tried it on again on entering Plymouth. Here they found Admiral Hawkins flying his flag on board the Jesus of Lubeck—a ship, by the way, that had taken part in the Armada fight. Hawkins was not slow in sending the usual reminder humming through the Spanish admiral's rigging, and, as he still hesitated to "take in his flag", a second messenger came crashing into his ship's side. Still trying to avoid paying the usual compliment, he went personally on board the Jesus to argue the point. He might have spared his pains. All the satisfaction he got was a peremptory order to clear out of our seas within twelve hours as a penalty for his rudeness to the Queen.
Again, off Calais, the French ambassador was made to render the proper salute to our admiral of the Narrow Seas, who gave orders to Sir Jerome Turner, his second in command, to "shoot and strike him", should he refuse to do so. In 1605 Sir William Monson had a slight difficulty with a Dutch admiral at the same place. The Dutchmen dipped his flag three times, but Monson insisted that he should pay the ordained salute and take it in altogether, or fight the matter out on the spot. The salute was paid.
Even in the days of James I, when our fleet was in somewhat a poor way, its captains insisted as firmly as ever on the customary honour being paid to our flag. Captain Best of the Guardland sends in a report about two Dutch men-of-war off Aberdeen, and says: "The Admiral of the Holland men-of-war hath his flag in her main-top, but giveth it out that he will not take it in for all the Commanders of His Majesty's ships. Forty years is within the compass of my knowledge, and I never knew but that all nations forbear to spread their flags in the presence of the King's ships. That custom shall not be lost by me. When I come into the road and anchor by him, if the Admiral will not take in his flag when I shall require it, I will shoot it down, though it grow into a quarrel." The last expression is delightful. There certainly would have been the makings of a "quarrel". This was in 1623.
Captain Richard Plumleigh took an even wider view of the obligations of foreigners to pay honour to the English flag. His idea was that they had to do so even in foreign harbours. He writes to the Admiralty on 23rd September, 1631: "It was my fortune to speak with one of these two merchants from whom the French demanded their flag". That is to say that the French had what he regarded as the impertinence to expect that they should have "struck" their topsails to them. He goes on: "They shot at the English some dozen shots and received from the English the like entertainment, with the loss of one man, by which they sat down and gave over their pretences. . . . It hath always been my principal aim to preserve His Majesty's Naval honnour both in his own seas and abroad, and for my part I think that it were better that both I and the ship under my charge were at the bottom of the sea, than that I should live to see a Frenchman or any other nation wear a flag aloft in His Majesty's seas and suffer them to pass unfought withal. . . . I dare engage my head that with five of H.M. ships I will always clear the way to all French flagmasters, yea, and make them strike to him upon those which they call their own seas. . . . This summer I was at the Texel in Holland, where come in divers French, and though the Hollanders bade me domineer at home in England, yet I forebore not to fetch down their flag with my ordnance." Evidently the gallant captain had strong views on the subject, and did not hide them under a bushel. But he was not alone in his determination to uphold the "honnour of the flag" at all costs.
Pennington, a notable naval officer of that period, has several incidents of a similar kind to relate in his Journals on board H.M.S. Convertive,[32] Vauntguard, and Swiftsure, between 1631 and 1636. He tells us that sailing in the first-mentioned ship, together with the Assurance and a couple of small vessels known as "whelps"—in search of "Rovers and Pyrates"—he met a fleet of eleven Dutch men-of-war in Dover Roads, "whereof two were soe stoute that they would not so much as settle their topp-sayles untill wee made a shott at each of them, soe—they doinge their dutyes—wee stood on our course". A few days later "There came up 4 Dunkerke men-of-warr unto us, who in all submissive wise, with their topp-sayles and top-gallant sayles lowrd upon the capp, saluted us accordinge to the custome of the sea"!
All this seems summary and drastic enough for anybody, so that it is curious to find the celebrated Sir Walter Raleigh not long before lamenting British decadence in this respect. "But there's no state grown in haste but that of the United Provinces, and especially in their sea forces. . . . For I myself may remember when one ship of Her Majesty's would have made forty Hollanders strike sail and come to an anchor. They did not then dispute De Mare Libero, but readily acknowledged the English to be Domini Maris Britannici. That we are less powerful than we were I do hardly believe it; for, although we have not at this time 135 ships belonging to the subject of 500 tons each ship, as it is said we had in the twenty-fourth year of Queen Elizabeth; at which time also, upon a general view and muster, there were found in England of able men fit to bear arms, 1,172,000, yet are our merchant ships now far more warlike and better appointed than they were, and the Royal Navy double as strong as it then was."
Possibly Raleigh's words had borne fruit in increased vigilance on the part of the captains of English men-of-war. But the Hollanders were determined to put the matter to the test. Possibly they thought that as there was no King of England after the martyrdom of Charles I there could be no king of the English seas. They began by forbidding their captains to pay the usual salute under pain of death. It was not long before Van Tromp sailed defiantly through Dover Straits with all his flags aloft. He got what he was asking for, a volley of round shot from Robert Blake, who was on the look-out for him, and at once both fleets went for each other "tooth and nail". The Dutch were beaten, but in a second encounter—for by now English and Dutch were openly at war—Blake got the worst of it, and was driven into the Thames to refit. "Tromp meanwhile sailed up and down the Channel as a conqueror, with a broom at his mast-head, thus braving the English navy in those very seas in which she claimed unrivalled sovereignty".[33]
