REVERSE OF THE SEAL OF SANDWICH.
Next year the French attempted to retake Harfleur. Henry sent a fleet of 400 sail to the rescue, under his brother John, Duke of Bedford, the upshot being that almost the whole French fleet, to the number of 500 ships, hulks, carracks, and small vessels were taken or sunk. The English vessels remained becalmed in the roadstead for three weeks afterwards. Southey, who has collated all the best authorities in his admirable naval work,[131] says:—“The bodies which had been thrown overboard in the action, or sunk in the enemies’ ships, rose and floated about them in great numbers; and the English may have deemed it a relief from the contemplation of that ghastly sight, to be kept upon the alert by some galleys, which taking advantage of the calm, ventured as near them as they dare by day and night, and endeavoured to burn the ships with wildfire.” He adds that the first mention of wildfire he had found is by Hardyng, one of the earliest of our poets, in the following passage referring to this event:—
“With oars many about us did they wind,
With wildfire oft assayled us day and night,
To brenne our ships in that they could or might.”
Next year we read of Henry preparing to again attack France. The enemy had increased their naval force by hiring a number of Genoese and other Italian vessels. The king sent a preliminary force against them under his kinsman, the Earl of Huntingdon, who, near the mouth of the Seine, succeeded in sinking three and capturing three of the great Genoese carracks, taking the Admiral Jacques, the Bastard of Bourbon, “and as much money as would have been half a year’s pay for the whole fleet.” These prizes were brought to Southampton, “from whence the king shortly set forth with a fleet of 1,500 ships, the sails of his own vessel being of purple silk, richly embroidered with gold.” The remainder of Henry’s brief reign—for he died the same year—is but the history of a series of successes over his enemies.
It must never be forgotten that the navies of our early history were not permanently organised, but drawn from all sources. A noble, a city or port, voluntarily or otherwise, contributed according to the exigencies of the occasion. As we shall see, it is to Henry VIII. that we owe the establishment of a Royal Navy as a permanent institution. In 1546 King Henry’s vessels are classified according to their “quality,” thus: “ships,” “galleases,” “pynaces,” “roe-barges.” A list bearing date in 1612 exhibits the classes as follows:—“Shipps royal,” measuring downwards from 1,200 to 800 tons; “middling shipps,” from 800 to 600 tons; “small shipps,” 350 tons; and pinnaces, from 200 to 80 tons. According to the old definition, a ship was defined to be a “large hollow building, made to pass over the seas with sails,” without reference to size or quality. Before the days of the Great Harry, few, if any, English ships had more than one mast or one sail; that ship had three masts, and the Henri Grace de Dieu, which supplanted her, four. The galleas was probably a long, low, and sharp-built vessel, propelled by oars as well as by sails; the latter probably not fixed to the mast or any standing yard, but hoisted from the deck when required to be used, as in the lugger or felucca of modern days. The pinnace was a smaller description of galleas, while the row-barge is sufficiently explained by its title.
The history of the period following the reign of Henry V. has much to do with shipping interests of all kinds. The constant wars and turbulent times gave great opportunity for piracy in the Channel and on the high seas. Thus we read of Hannequin Leeuw, an outlaw from Ghent, who had so prospered in piratical enterprises that he got together a squadron of eight or ten vessels, well armed and stored. He not only infested the coast of Flanders, and Holland, and the English Channel, but scoured the coasts of Spain as far as Gibraltar, making impartial war on any or all nations, and styling himself the “Friend of God, and the enemy of all mankind.” This pirate escaped the vengeance of man, but at length was punished by the elements: the greater part of his people perished in a storm, and Hannequin Leeuw disappeared from the scene. Shortly afterwards we find the Hollanders and Zeelanders uniting their forces against the Easterling pirates, then infesting the seas, and taking twenty of their ships. “This action,” says Southey, “was more important in its consequences than in itself; it made the two provinces sensible, for the first time, of their maritime strength, and gave a new impulse to that spirit of maritime adventure which they had recently begun to manifest.” Previously a voyage to Spain had been regarded as so perilous, that “whoever undertook it settled his [pg 276]worldly and his spiritual affairs as if preparing for death, before he set forth,” while now they opened up a brisk trade with that country and Portugal. Till now they had been compelled to bear the insults and injuries of the Easterlings without combined attempt at defence; now they retaliated, captured one of their admirals on the coast of Norway, and hoisted a besom at the mast-head in token that they had swept the seas clean from their pirate enemies.
And now, in turn, some of them became pirates themselves, more particularly Hendrick van Borselen, Lord of Veere, who assembled all the outlaws he could gather, and committed such depredations, that he was enabled to add greatly to his possessions in Walcheren, by the purchase of confiscated estates. He received others as grants from his own duke, who feared him, and thought it prudent at any cost to retain, at least in nominal obedience, one who might render himself so obnoxious an enemy. “This did not prevent the admiral—for he held that rank under the duke—from infesting the coast of Flanders, carrying off cattle from Cadsant, and selling them publicly in Zeeland. His excuse was that the terrible character of his men compelled him to act as he did; and the duke admitted the exculpation, being fain to overlook outrages which he could neither prevent nor punish.” A statute of the reign of Henry VI. sets forth the robberies committed upon the poor merchants of this realm, not merely on the sea, but even in the rivers and ports of Britain, and how not merely they lost their goods, but their persons also were taken and imprisoned. Nor was this all, for “the king’s poor subjects dwelling nigh the sea-coasts were taken out of their own houses, with their chattels and children, and carried by the enemies where it pleased them.” In consequence, the Commons begged that an armament might be provided and maintained on the sea, which was conceded, and for a time piracy on English subjects was partially quashed.
Meantime, we had pirates of our own. Warwick, the king-maker, was unscrupulous in all points, and cared nothing for the lawfulness of the captures which he could make on the high seas. For example, when he left England for the purpose of securing Calais (then belonging to England) and the fleet for the House of York, he having fourteen well-appointed vessels, fell in with a fleet of Spaniards and Genoese. “There was a very sore and long continued battle fought betwixt them,” lasting almost two days. The English lost a hundred men; one account speaks of the Spanish and Genoese loss at 1,000 men killed, and another of six-and-twenty vessels sunk or put to flight. It is certain that three of the largest vessels were taken into Calais, laden with wine, oil, iron, wax, cloth of gold, and other riches, in all amounting in value to no less than £10,000. The earl was a favourite with the sailors, probably for the license he gave them; when the Duke of Somerset was appointed by the king’s party to the command of Calais, from which he was effectually shut out by Warwick, they carried off some of his ships and deserted with them to the latter. Not long after, when reinforcements were lying at Sandwich waiting to cross the Channel to Somerset’s aid, March and Warwick borrowed £18,000 from merchants, and dispatched John Dynham on a piratical expedition. He landed at Sandwich, surprised the town, took Lord Rivers and his son in their beds, robbed houses, took the principal ships of the king’s navy, and carried them off, well furnished as they were with ordnance and artillery. For a time Warwick carried all before him, but not a few [pg 277]of his actions were most unmitigated specimens of piracy, on nations little concerned with the Houses of York and Lancaster, their quarrels or wars.