The first systematic issue of ship-money writs was in October 1634, and in the summer of 1635, the resulting fleet was at sea. As usual the provisions were an unfailing source of indignation, and Lindsey, who was in command, told the Lords Commissioners that much of the beef was so tainted that when it was moved ‘the scent all over the ship is enough to breed contagion.’ The crews were made up with watermen and landsmen ignorant of their work, and many were weak and sickly; three men-of-war and several of the hired merchantmen were quite disabled by the sickness on board them.[1023] A special matter of complaint was the large number of volunteers and their servants who went for a harmless summer cruise on Lindsey’s ships. That they were useless and in the way was of less importance than that officers were aggrieved by finding their cabins taken from them to house these people in comfort, and that the seamen were irritated by seeing the idlers given the first choice of food, having to wait for their own till the visitors were served.[1024] If the greater part of the beef was fetid, and the officers and volunteers had right of selection, what could have been left for the men?
Apparently the sailors had as little liking as ever for the royal service, since, in 1636, the old difficulties were renewed in obtaining seamen for the second ship-money fleet under Northumberland. In April the men were said to be continually running away; in June out of 250 men turned over from the Anne Royal to the St Andrew 220 deserted.[1025] When Northumberland returned in the autumn, typhus was rife in his squadron, and Mervyn reported that the men ‘in this weather fall sick for want of clothing, most of them barefoot and scarcely rags to hide their skins.’[1026] Northumberland, not content with merely commanding in state, attacked the shortcomings of the naval administration furiously when he came ashore. Many of his strictures relate to subjects to be noticed, subsequently, but concerning the men he said that they were incapable both bodily and in their knowledge of seamanship; that out of 260 men in the James not more than twenty could steer, that in the Unicorn there was hardly a seaman besides the officers, that nearly one-third of the Entrance’s crew had never been to sea, and that of 150 men in the last-named ship only twelve could take the helm.[1027] The provisions, he said, were bad and meagre, and the men defrauded of a fourth or fifth of their allowance. Moreover sick men must either be kept on board ‘or turned ashore in danger of starving, not to be received into any house, so as some have been seen to die upon the strand for lack of relief.’
Such was the tender care monarchy by divine right, with its paraphernalia of Commissioners and Lords of the Admiralty, vouchsafed to that class of its subjects which happened to be voiceless and helpless. But if the coming struggle between divine right and capitalist right was to render the sailor’s assistance valuable, and temporarily improve his position, the experience of succeeding generations was to show that to him it made little difference whether life and health were sacrificed under the stately forms of monarchical procedure, or by the more obviously sordid processes of mercantile traffic. There was no ‘glorious revolution’ for men whose welfare depended on a legislature influenced by merchants and shipowners, and ignoble with the soulless ethics of the eighteenth century.
Victualling.
According to official documents the victualler, Sir Sampson Darell, must have died not long after Apsley, as his accounts for five years are passed by his executrix.[1028] The absence of professional control did not probably cause any extra mismanagement; at any rate no murmurs are heard on that score. It is impossible to say now whether Apsley was a victim, or only received his deserts, in having claims for £69,436 in 1626 and £94,985 in 1627 rejected because his books were signed by only three instead of four Commissioners and on account of insufficient particulars. As they were not finally refused until 1637 his representatives were allowed plenty of time to prove their case. In February 1637 John Crane, ‘chief clerk of our kitchen,’ was made Surveyor of marine victuals, his appointment dating from 20th Nov. 1635. The allowance of drink and solid food was the same as in the last century, and sugar, rice, and oatmeal were medical luxuries theoretically provided for sick men in the 1636 fleet, on the equipment of which Northumberland expressed such trenchant criticisms. Crane undertook the victualling at the rate of eightpence halfpenny a man per day at sea, and sevenpence halfpenny in harbour, but in March 1638 he gave the necessary year’s notice to terminate his contract.[1029] He found that during 1636 and 1637 he had lost a penny three farthings a month on each man, and owing to the general rise in prices, anticipated a further loss of as much as 3s 4¾d a head, per month, in 1638. He entreated an immediate release from his bargain, or he would be ruined, and he had thirteen children. In all these memorials one invariably finds that the petitioner possesses an enormous family.
In 1637 the Earl of Northumberland was again at sea in what Sir Thomas Roe expected would be ‘one turn to the west in an honourable procession,’ and the Earl himself wrote, ‘No man was ever more desirous of a charge than I am to be quit of mine.’[1030] He was, however, the first competent admiral among the nobility that Charles had been able to find. From the absence of any accounts of mutiny and disorder we may take it that either the men were better treated this year or that the superior officers were tired of complaining. In 1638 Northumberland was ill, and all the work the ship-money fleet did was to convoy two powder-laden vessels through the ships blockading Dunkirk.[1031]
Discipline.
We have seen that men like Pennington and Mervyn had not the heart to punish for insubordination under the circumstances of privation which made their crews seditious and disobedient, and the normal discipline on a man-of-war was, in all likelihood, sufficiently lax. Some of the regulations, however, if they were carried out, were strict enough, although they will compare favourably with the bloodthirsty articles of war of the succeeding century, and they show some difference from previous customs. Prayer was said twice daily, before dinner and after the psalm sung at setting the evening watch, and any one absent was liable to twenty-four hours in irons. Swearing was punished by three knocks on the forehead with a boatswain’s whistle, and smoking anywhere but on the upper deck, ‘and that sparingly,’ by the bilboes. The thief was tied up to the capstan, ‘and every man in the ship shall give him five lashes with a three-stringed whip on his bare back.’ This is, I think, the first mention of any form of cat. The habitual thief was, after flogging, dragged ashore astern of a boat and ignominiously dismissed with the loss of his wages. For brawling and fighting the offender was ducked three times from the yardarm, and similarly towed ashore and discharged; while for striking an officer he was to be tried for his life by twelve men, but whether shipmates or civilians is not said.[1032] If a man slept on watch three buckets of water were to be poured upon his head and into his sleeves, and any one except ‘gentlemen or officers’ playing cards or dice incurred four hours of manacles. It is suggestive to read that ‘no man persume to strike in the ship but such officers as are authorised.’[1033]
There was no specially prepared fleet in 1639, but in October Pennington was in command of a few ships in the Downs, watching the opposed Dutch and Spanish fleets also lying there. Both he and Northumberland had pressed the King, but in vain, for instructions as to his course of action in certain contingencies. At last directions were given him that in the event of fighting between them he was to assist the side which appeared to be gaining the day, a manner of procedure which Charles doubtless thought was dexterous diplomacy, but which most students of the international history of his time will consider as ignominious as it was futile. The Dutch attacked the Spaniards as they were taking in 500 barrels of gunpowder, supplied with the connivance of the English government[1034]—again Charles’s trading instincts were too strong—drove a score of their vessels ashore, and scattered the remainder. Unfortunately Pennington, instead of also attacking the Spaniards, fired into the Dutch, who did not reply.[1035]
The Seamen and the Civil War.