There is, unfortunately, little contemporary evidence as to the precise extent of the claim to the fisheries which was anciently put forward in Scotland. The Acts of the Scottish Parliaments do not help us very far, although they reveal the jealous and conservative spirit previously referred to. Many statutes were made prohibiting strangers from buying fish except such as were salted and barrelled, and then only at free burghs; concerning the “assize-herring,” of which so much was to be heard; and the payment of customs by foreigners exporting fish. The language of some of the Acts implied a certain control over foreign fishermen on the sea,[151] and all that we know of the practice and customs in Scotland makes it highly probable that these enactments were in point of fact enforced against foreign fishermen as far as they could be. The Scots were always particularly jealous about the fishings in the firths and lochs “within land.” An important herring fishery of this kind was carried on in the lochs on the west coast, especially in Loch Broom and Loch Fyne, in autumn and winter, by fishermen from the Clyde, the Ayrshire coast, and Fifeshire, who built timber houses on shore where they cured the herrings; and this fishing was attended by Frenchmen, “Flemings,” and English, who purchased the cured herrings or bought the fish and cured them themselves.[152] Wishing to catch the herrings for themselves, these “divers strangers” most earnestly petitioned Queen Mary in 1566 for “license to fish in the said lochs.” But the Council, to whom the petition was referred, after consultation with the burghs, refused the request, and ordained that “no stranger of whatever nation they be come in the said lochs, nor use the commodity of the said fishing in any time to come, but the same to be reserved for the born subjects and natives of the realm,” under pain of confiscation of ships and goods.[153] Some of the old Scots Acts, of the reign of James III. (1460-1488) and later, refer to previous statutes, which seem to be lost, respecting the herring fishery in the western seas; and they indicate that “letters” had sometimes been granted by the king favouring foreigners in some way, but whether by allowing them to fish there is unknown.
On the east coast, where the Dutch carried on their great herring-fishing from busses, there is evidence that a limit was early fixed within which they were not allowed to fish, but no contemporary records relating to it appear to have been preserved. It is probable that an arrangement was come to between them and the Scottish fishermen, possibly in the reign of James V. or even earlier, by which they were not to fish within sight of land. At the beginning of the seventeenth century, when the question of unrestricted fishing was raised in an acute form, there was a remarkable unanimity of opinion in Scotland that the ancient and established custom was that foreigners were not allowed to carry on their operations within a “land-kenning” of the coast,—that is, not nearer than where they could discern the land from the top of their masts. This distance was usually placed at fourteen miles, but sometimes a double land-kenning, of twenty-eight miles, was claimed; and we shall see that the former distance was embodied in the Draft Treaty of Union with England in 1604, as well as proposed to the States-General as a provisional limit in 1619 ([see p. 192]), and declared by Parliament and the Privy Council of Scotland to be the bounds of the “reserved waters” belonging to Scotland. Welwood, a Scottish lawyer who wrote at the end of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth centuries, states that before his time, after “bloody quarrels” about sea affairs between the Scots and the Hollanders, the disputes were arranged on the understanding that in future the Hollanders were to keep at least eighty miles from the coast of Scotland, which, he says, they did for a long time. If they were driven nearer by stress of weather they paid a tax or tribute at the port of Aberdeen, where a castle was built for this and other reasons. This tax, he adds, was paid until by frequent dissensions at home and the audacity of the Hollanders the right was lost.[154] There is no very satisfactory evidence to show in how far the statements of Welwood were in accordance with the facts. In the records of the Privy Council a case is mentioned which might be interpreted in another way. In 1587 two English ships belonging to Shields, coming from the “easter seas” laden with fresh fish and bound for England, were seized and brought into port by one Thomas Davidson of Crail, apparently on the plea that they had been fishing too near the shore. The owners contended that the fish had been caught “upon the main sea, outwith his Majesty’s dominions, where not only they but the subjects of all other princes had had a continual trade and fishing in all times bygone past the memory of man.” But even, it was argued on their behalf, if the fish had been caught within his Majesty’s waters, still, in respect of the “continual trade” which strangers had had there in all time past, “there being no inhibition made or published to the contrary as yet,” no such treatment should have been meted out to them.[155] This was in the reign of James VI.; and the most likely explanation, in the absence of information as to the decision taken by the Council, is that while no official proclamation forbidding fishing by foreigners had been promulgated, and no recent measures carried out to prevent them from doing so, it was believed that a certain part of the sea was reserved for the use of the Scottish fishermen, apart from the waters of firths and lochs.
The difference in the national policy of England and Scotland concerning foreigners fishing along our coasts prevailed until the Union of the crowns, when James introduced the Scottish ideas into England and soon endeavoured to transform them into practice. Meanwhile, under the Tudors, certain changes were slowly and silently taking place which paved the way for the new policy, and that too although, very shortly before, the freedom of the seas had been proclaimed and vindicated by Queen Elizabeth.
CHAPTER III.
UNDER THE TUDORS.
The policy of freedom of commercial intercourse, navigation, and fishery which was enunciated in the Intercursus Magnus and the treaties which preceded it, was faithfully observed throughout the sixteenth century. No attempt was made by any of the Tudor sovereigns to interfere with the liberty which foreigners enjoyed of fishing on the English coast; nor was any claim put forward by them to the dominion or lordship of the surrounding seas. On the contrary, throughout the greater part of the century, facilities were given for the peaceful exercise and encouragement of sea-fishing, even in time of war; while on several occasions the last and greatest of the monarchs of the Tudor line actively contested the old pretensions of Denmark to the sovereignty of the northern seas, and the more recent claims of Spain and Portugal to the exclusive right of navigating the great oceans. It was nevertheless during this century that changes occurred which made it easy for James early in the next to initiate a new policy of mare clausum, and to repudiate the provisions of the so-called Burgundy treaties. The most important of these changes was perhaps the decay which overtook the sea fisheries. Apart from their commercial and economic value, the fisheries were looked upon as indispensable for the maintenance of maritime power, and probably at no previous time had greater efforts been made to foster maritime power than under the Tudors. The hardy fishermen who navigated their barks to distant seas—to Iceland, to Wardhouse, round the North Cape, and now to Newfoundland—were trained in a school of seamanship which fitted them admirably to take their place for the naval defence of the country. Even the herring-smacks and the dogger-boats that fished in the North Sea and the Channel turned out mariners by no means to be despised,—men acquainted with the coasts and the tides, able to manage sails and educated to the sea. It was this aspect of the fisheries which was mostly regarded by the statesmen of those times, and for which the “political lent” and the protective legislation were designed.
The causes which led to the decay in the English fisheries were no doubt various, but perhaps the chief one, and the one on which most stress was laid in the latter part of the century, was the Reformation. The very large consumption of fish due to the observance of Lent and the numerous days of fasting, or fish-days, has been referred to ([see p. 58]). The suppression of the monasteries (1536-1539) and the dispersal of the inmates and dependants must alone have had considerable influence, but the relaxation of ecclesiastical rule among the laity which followed was much more detrimental to the fisheries. The decay of the sea-coast towns, so frequently spoken of in the reign of Elizabeth, was mainly attributed to this cause. Another influence which operated in the same direction, most markedly towards the end of the century, was the great growth of the fisheries and commerce of the Dutch. After the assertion of their independence of Spain (1581), commonly called the “abjuration of Philip,” their fisheries developed with great rapidity. One of the first acts of the new Republic (1582) was the codification of the fishery statutes; and about this time they applied to the deep-sea herring fishery the name of Great or Grand Fishery (Groote Visscherye), as being “the chief industry of the country and principal gold-mine to its inhabitants,” in contrast to the real gold-mines of Spain. They furnished the greater part of Europe with cured herrings and other fish, and the fish supply of England, and more particularly of London, fell to a large extent into their hands. Their herring fishery was carried on along our east coast, and the spectacle of great fleets of foreign fishing vessels frequenting our waters, while the native fisheries were falling to decay, roused envious and jealous feelings in the breasts of patriotic Englishmen.[156]
Under the Tudors the efforts made to foster the sea fisheries did not, as has been said, take the form of interfering with the foreign fishermen. They were rather directed, on the one hand, to increase the consumption of fish by restoring the strict observance of Lent and fish-days, and, on the other hand, to check the importation of fish caught by foreigners. In this way it was hoped that the native fisheries would be stimulated to supply at least the home markets. As early as 1541—a year or two after the suppression of the monasteries—an Act was passed which apparently indicates that the decline in the fisheries had already set in, and that it was customary for the English people to purchase fish from foreigners rather than catch them for themselves. Heavy penalties were imposed on any person who should bring into the realm for sale fresh fish (except sturgeon, porpoise, and seal, which were then included in the term) which they had purchased from strangers in Flanders, Zealand, Picardy, France, or elsewhere beyond the sea, “or upon the sea between shore and shore”; but the buying of fish at Iceland, Scotland, Orkney, Shetland, Ireland, or Newfoundland—to all which places English vessels went—was not prohibited.[157] This statute was re-enacted four years later, and again by Edward VI. and Queen Mary.[158] In the reign of Elizabeth a number of similar statutes were made, with the object of favouring the native fishermen in their competition with foreigners.
About the same time as the first Act of Henry was passed we begin to get evidence of laxity in the observance of Lent and of measures taken to deal with it. Many persons, including noblemen, were brought before the Privy Council charged with having eaten flesh in Lent, and were committed to the Fleet. The mayor and aldermen of London were commanded to make inquisition throughout all the wards of the city as to the households in which flesh was used in Lent, and the butchers were required to furnish information as to the quantity of flesh sold by them, and to whom, in the same period.[159] This activity of the Privy Council foreshadowed the new policy of the “political lent” which was inaugurated a few years later in the reign of Edward VI., and with which the name of Cecil was associated. By this time it was clearly recognised that the religious changes that had taken place were prejudicial to the fisheries by lessening the consumption of fish, and in 1548 an “Act for Abstinence from Flesh” was passed, by which fines were imposed on those who did not observe the usual fast-days. The object of the measure was clearly explained. “One day or one kind of meat of itself,” it said, “is not more holy, more pure, or more clean than another, for that all days and all meats be of their nature of one equal purity, cleanness, and holiness;” but “considering that due and godly abstinence is a mean to virtue, and to subdue men’s bodies to their soul and spirit, and considering also especially that Fishers, and men using the trade of living by fishing in the sea, may thereby the rather be set on work,” it was enacted that no person should eat flesh meat on Fridays, Saturdays, Ember-days, Lent, or on any other day which was accustomed a fish-day, under a penalty of ten shillings fine and ten days’ imprisonment without flesh food.[160]
By this statute the political lent was established, and the policy of compelling the people to eat fish for the good of the fisheries and the navy was continued with more or less vigour for a century and a half. Sir William Cecil was especially active in its favour. He caused careful inquiries to be made into the condition of the decayed havens and sea-coast towns and the state of the fisheries. He was informed by the London fishmongers, to whom he had submitted a series of questions, that there was not so much fish then consumed “by a great quantity” as used to be the case, and that the number of vessels engaged in the fisheries had greatly decreased. On the latter point they referred to a return made about the twentieth year of the reign of Henry VIII., which showed that seven-score and odd ships then went to the Iceland fishery, about 80 crayers to Shetland, and about 220 crayers from Scarborough and other towns to the North Seas fishing, making a total of about 440 fishing vessels; while at the time they wrote—in the reign of Edward VI., and probably in 1552 or 1553—the number had fallen to about 133, of which 43 went to Iceland, 10 crayers to Shetland, and 80 to “the North Seas,” showing a decrease in the twenty-four or twenty-five years of about 307 “ships and crayers.”[161] A similar story of the decay of the fisheries came from the east-coast towns. At Lynn, which was maintained chiefly by the Iceland and the herring fisheries, and which twenty or thirty years before sent out about thirty vessels to those fisheries, there were then only two Iceland barks, and no herring-smacks at all. It used to be able to furnish 300 mariners for the king’s service, while now it could not supply more than twenty or thirty. And so at Burnham (where the fishing-boats had decreased from 26 to nil), Wells, Clee, Cromer, Yarmouth, and other Norfolk ports—all had greatly decayed. The fisheries and the shipping had fallen off, the “men of substance” had lost their money or left, the population had diminished, and even the houses were falling down. To a statesman like Cecil, who knew the value of the mariners bred at the fishing ports for manning the navy if need arose, and how a flourishing fishery multiplied shipping, such information must have been disquieting. He calculated that while within twenty years back there had been 150 ships for Iceland, 220 for the north seas, and 78 for “Shotland” (Shetland), the numbers had fallen when he wrote to 43 for Iceland, 75 for the north seas, and 9 for Shetland; and that the number of fishing vessels had decreased from 448 to 127.[162]