Fresh proposals were now brought forward by others, based on Government support, and a plan was propounded similar to the old one of Hitchcock and Dee in the reign of Elizabeth, but to be carried out under an Act of Parliament. Each city, county, and seaport town was to be encouraged to equip fishing-busses at their common charge and for their common benefit, with power to employ their idle inhabitants in manning them. For the security of the fishing fleet the king was to provide twenty ships of war, five of which were to belong to the royal navy, and they were to continue at sea from the beginning of April till the end of September. To meet the cost of this guard the king was to receive the tenth fish taken both by English and foreign fishermen, the promoters thinking that the latter would be quite willing to be taxed when the tax was demanded by an “Act of the King and Kingdom,” and when they knew they would be protected by a squadron of men-of-war.[386] It was a pretty scheme, well-intentioned, but innocent of information as to the actual state of affairs.
Scarcely anything more was heard about the herring fishery or the taxation of Dutch fishermen during the brief remainder of James’s reign. Another embassy came from the Netherlands in 1624, but it was to conclude a defensive alliance against Spain, and in the shadow of this new alliance the Dutch fishermen quietly reaped the harvest of the sea without fear of English interference. James’s policy of the assize-herring had thus completely failed. All his efforts to induce or to force the Netherlands’ fishermen to acknowledge his right were baffled by the superior diplomacy of the States,—their “artificial delays, pretences, shifts, dilatory addresses, and evasive answers.” The only immediately practical result of the king’s policy was that the herring-busses kept for a time farther from the coast of Scotland. But a new weapon had been forged for the contest with the United Provinces for supremacy at sea, and one which was to be used by his successors with much more skill, if with little greater ultimate success.
Of one symbol of this sovereignty of the sea comparatively little was heard during James’s reign—namely, the salute or homage to his flag. This traditional custom of the narrow seas, while maintained on important occasions, was not enforced with the vigour and arrogance which characterised it later, perhaps less rigorously than under the Great Queen. “I myself remember,” said Raleigh a few years before his execution, “when one ship of her Majesty’s would have made forty Hollanders strike sail and come to anchor. They did not then dispute de mari libero, but readily acknowledged the English to be domini mavis Britannici.”[387] Sir William Monson, too, who was Admiral of the Narrow Seas in the earlier part of James’s reign, tells us that the Hollanders were very “stubborn” about striking their top-sails and performing the duty due to the king’s prerogative, and that he earned their lasting ill-will by compelling them to do it.[388]
But the English commanders were punctilious in enforcing the salute in the narrow seas on state occasions. A notable instance occurred in 1603, when King Henry IV. of France sent over the famous Sieur de Rosny, afterwards Duke of Sully, to congratulate James on his accession to the throne of England. With a numerous retinue he went on board an English man-of-war at Calais, which then made sail for Dover accompanied by a French warship under the command of M. de Vic, the Vice-Admiral of France. The English captain observed with displeasure that the French vessel bore the arms of France at his top, “contrary to the custom of the narrow seas”; but on account of the important personage on board and the nature of his mission, he restrained himself from challenging the “indignity” until they approached Dover Road. Unable to brook the affront any longer, he fired at the French ship, and so “constrained her to strike her flag.” The shot did no harm, but M. de Vic at once turned round his vessel and went back to France in high dudgeon. Cecil thought it necessary to send a despatch to the English ambassador at Paris explaining the circumstances, and while saying that the English captain “rashly discharged” his gun, he thought that if the matter was “well looked into, and the former customs observed, there would be reason found for us to stand upon.”[389]
A somewhat similar incident happened two years later, when Sir William Monson was bringing over an ambassador of the Emperor from Calais to Dover. In Dover Road he found a number of States’ men-of-war, and their admiral, as Monson drew near, struck his flag thrice, but then “advanced” it again and kept it flying in the presence of the king’s ship. Monson believed the Dutch admiral had come in on purpose to put this “affront” on him, so that the ambassador, as well as the Spaniards then at Dover, might “spread it abroad throughout all Europe” that the Dutch, “by their wearing their flags, might be imputed kings of the sea as well as his Majesty,” and so lessen the esteem of the king’s prerogative in the narrow seas. Instead of firing upon the Dutch ship, he sent to invite the admiral to dinner, and to tell him that he must take in his flag. To this request the admiral demurred, saying that he had struck it thrice, and that no former admirals of the narrow seas had required more at his hands. Monson rejoined that “times were altered”; that when the mere striking of the flag as he had done was sufficient, England and Holland were both at war with Spain and it was tolerated; but now, since the war was ended so far as England was concerned, his Majesty required “such rights and duties as have formerly belonged to his progenitors.” On the Dutch admiral still refusing, Monson threatened to weigh anchor and come near him, and that the force of their ships should determine the question; “for,” said the English admiral, “rather than I would suffer his flag to be worn in view of so many nations as were to behold it, I resolved to bury myself in the sea.” The flag was then struck, and the Dutch ships stood out to sea. Monson tells us that he was congratulated by a Spanish general who had been watching the proceedings, who said that if the Hollanders had worn their flag times had been strangely altered in England, since his old master King Philip II. was shot at by the Lord Admiral of England for wearing his flag in the narrow seas when he came to marry Queen Mary.[390]
Sometimes, however, the zeal of the naval officers led them too far in their resolution to compel the salute. Thus in 1613, when the Count of Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador, was returning to England accompanied by two galleons, an English man-of-war forced the Spanish ships to take in their flags off Stokes Bay. The ambassador complained to the Lord Admiral (the Earl of Nottingham), who decided that the captain had exceeded his authority, for the Spaniards were not bound to strike their flag unless to the admiral of the narrow seas, and the captain was neither admiral of the narrow seas nor employed under his commission. The rules or etiquette regarding this ceremony were indeed somewhat complicated, occasionally changed, and not always well understood, and as a good deal will be heard of the striking of the flag in the following chapters, it may be well to say something here about the practice. It appears that it was customary from a remote period for merchant vessels to lower their sails on meeting a ship of war in seas under the dominion of the state to which the latter belonged,[391] but the ceremony only attained to international notoriety in connection with the claims of England to the sovereignty of the narrow seas. The practice varied at different times. Generally speaking, by the custom of the narrow seas as interpreted in this country, any foreign man-of-war meeting with an English man-of-war in those seas had to take in her flag and strike her top-sails as soon as she came within sight or within range of the English guns, and she had to keep in the flag until she had passed out of range. A merchant vessel had to strike in the same way. Further, no vessel in the narrow seas was to pass to windward of an English ship of war, but must “come by the lee”; the inferior had to make way for the superior.[392] In an English port or road no foreign ship or English merchant vessel could wear her flag in the presence of a king’s ship. This custom was also sometimes enforced in foreign ports and roads, but usually only when out of range of forts on shore. If a foreign vessel, whether man-of-war or merchant ship, did not thus “do her duty” or “perform the homage of the sea,” the English ship of war might hail her or send a boat to command her to strike. Or they might at once, without any parley, fire a shot across her bows, and after an interval another, also across her bows or over her poop, and if this was ineffective, then a third between her masts or at her flag. If the foreigner still refused to strike, a broadside was usually poured in, and the vessel might be carried into port and the offender punished. In the reign of Charles II., Spaniards, Dunkirkers, Frenchmen, and other foreigners, were not infrequently brought before the courts and fined for refusing to strike. If a merchant vessel refused to strike until she was shot at, she was compelled to pay to the king’s ship twice the value of the gunpowder and shot expended.
In England the custom, no doubt, originated in the Channel, probably in the time of the early Angevin kings, when the opposite coasts were under the same rule; and it is most probable, as formerly said, that it arose in connection with the exercise of jurisdiction over pirates and for securing peaceful commerce. In early times the utmost lawlessness prevailed on the sea: it would be a common duty of the king’s ships to satisfy themselves as to the character of the vessels they encountered, and the lowering of the sails and the coming under the lee, for “visit and search,” might well be a relic of a duty enforced for that purpose. With regard to ships of war, the ceremony appears to have been first confined to the Channel, and was held to be peculiarly a privilege of the admiral of the narrow seas. Thus, when Captain Plumleigh was appointed admiral of a squadron for service in Ireland in 1632, he was ordered by the Admiralty if he met “in any part of the narrow seas with the Convertive, in which Captain Pennington commands as admiral of those seas,” to take in his flag, and to “continue it furled whilst in sight of that ship, it being an ancient honour and privilege belonging only to that admiral to carry the flag in the maintop in those seas.”[393] Monson also tells us, in referring to the decision of the Lord High Admiral in Gondomar’s case, above alluded to, that every ship of the king’s serving under an admiral could not demand the striking of the flag when out of sight of the admiral; but the foreign ship, “be he admiral or no, is to strike his top-sail and hoist it again, to any one ship of the king’s that shall meet him.” He further states that any foreign ship or fleet arriving in an English port, or passing by a fort or castle, had to take in their flag three times, and advance it again, unless the English admiral’s ship was in the same harbour, in which case they were to keep it in so long as the admiral was present; “but if any other ship of his Majesty’s be there but the admiral’s, they are not bound to keep in their flag, but only to strike it thrice as aforesaid.” Monson added that he wished, in these later times (the reign of Charles I.), “that his Majesty’s ships would take more authority upon them than is due,” in order to curb the insolence of the French and the Hollander—a wish which, as we shall see, must have been fully gratified. It was against the Dutch that the striking of the flag was most thoroughly enforced, and one cannot but admire the patience and restraint they exhibited under great provocation. The French and Swedes avoided giving the salute as much as they could. As the century wore on, the English exaction on this point grew more outrageous. Foreign ships of war were forced to strike on their own coast even to our royal yachts, and the Hollanders were asked to strike not merely in the British seas, but wherever they were encountered. To the old sea-dogs all seas were “British” where their fleets were strongest.
CHAPTER VI.
CHARLES I. FISHERIES AND RESERVED WATERS.
It was during the reign of Charles, into whose hands the sceptre passed in the spring of 1625, that the English pretensions to the sovereignty of the sea attained their most extravagant proportions,—a circumstance which was owing in great measure to the condition of domestic affairs and the king’s assumption of personal government. James had been content to limit his assertion of sovereignty to the question of the rights of fishing and the preservation of the “King’s Chambers” from the hostile acts of belligerents. But Charles, while vigorously pursuing this policy so long as he was able, combined with it the most extreme claims to dominion on the neighbouring seas that had ever been put forward by an English king. The sovereign rights of jurisdiction over the “Sea of England” which were supposed to have been exercised by the early Plantagenets, were now roused from the slumber of centuries and revived in their most aggressive form. The King of England was to be lord of the surrounding seas, and to rule over them as a part of his territory. A beneficent and universal peace was to reign over the waters of the German Ocean and the Channel, unbroken by the sound of an angry shot. No other fleets or men-of-war—be they Spanish, or Dutch, or French—were to be allowed “to keep any guard” there, to offer any violence, to take prize or booty, or to search the merchant vessels of other nations. The blockade of the opposite coasts of the Continent by an enemy’s fleet, as that of Flanders by the Dutch or French, was to be interdicted, because those coasts were washed by the British seas and blockading was a warlike operation. On the other hand the king was to protect the commerce and navigation of his friends and allies. Foreign merchantmen might go on their way in security, undisturbed by fears of pirates or enemies, for “all men trading or sailing within those his Majesty’s seas do justly take themselves to be in pace Domini Regis,”—under the peace of our Lord the King. And as an external symbol and acknowledgment of this absolute dominion, foreign vessels were “to perform their duty and homage” on meeting his Majesty’s ships by striking their flag and lowering their top-sails. If they refused to do so, they were to be attacked and taken or sunk; the vessel was liable to forfeiture as “good prize,” and the offenders carried into port to be tried for their high contempt. Moreover—and it looks but a small thing by comparison,—no foreigners were to be permitted to fish in British waters without first receiving the king’s license so to do, and paying to him a tax in acknowledgment of the permission. In this way Charles hoped to restore the sovereignty of the King of England in the British seas—that “fairest flower of the imperial crown,” as he described it—to “its ancient style and lustre.”