The misfortunes of the Society caused many of those who had promised subscriptions to withhold them. Then followed drastic measures: summonses before the Star Chamber, warrants for apprehension, threats of imprisonment, and most of the subscriptions were squeezed from the unwilling adventurers. On the other hand, creditors sued the Society for goods supplied and money lent; seamen sued it for wages; even the clerks had to petition the king for theirs, appropriately suggesting that they might be paid from the license-money that Northumberland’s fleet had extorted from the Dutch herring-busses.[442] As Charles’s domestic troubles thickened and his power on the sea began to wane, Pembroke and his associates became more and more importunate for help. Petitions were conveyed to him, and then “remonstrances.” He was pointedly reminded that he was the originator and “Protector” of the Society; unless he “really” helped them the work must stop. But Charles was then unable either to compel the restitution of the captured busses or to induce his subjects to subscribe to the Society’s funds. He did what he could. Pennington and the Warden of the Cinque Ports were ordered to seize Dunkirk ships to be sold for the benefit of the Society; he granted them a standing lottery, and issued a proclamation enjoining the strict observance of Lent, which might possibly help them by increasing the consumption of fish, and could at least do them no harm. Almost his last act in connection with the fishery association was to issue an Order in Council in which, somewhat irritably, he blamed the Dutch for the failure, and remitted to an influential committee to consider some means by which the fishery in the north seas might be “advanced and settled,” and particularly whether the Dutch should not be deprived of English lampreys for bait, which were necessary for their cod-fishing.[443] It was a great fall for Charles as Lord of the Seas, with a policy as sketched at the beginning of this chapter, to use the lampreys of the Thames as a weapon against the Dutch rather than a powerful armada. But by this time his power at sea had vanished. The Dutch lorded it in the Channel.
When the Order in Council was penned, Tromp had hemmed in the Spanish fleet in the Downs and was ready to pounce on it the moment it quitted English waters, or to destroy it there if he only could get a plausible excuse. Charles and his Council were trembling with fear lest the best known of all the “King’s Chambers” should be flagrantly violated by the impatient Dutchman, with all the world looking on. And twelve days after the Council meeting this is just what Tromp did, and Charles’s sovereignty of the seas vanished for ever. And the fishery scheme, “the Royal Fishery of Great Britain and Ireland,” set agoing after so much patient labour, heralded by so many promises of profit and success, designed to be a great instrument for the development of naval power and commerce, was extinguished in the following year, with no tangible result save that those who had given their money to it were left “great losers.”
CHAPTER VII.
CHARLES I.—continued. THE NAVY.
Since Charles had resolved to assert his claims to the sovereignty of the sea by force if necessary, it was obviously essential that he should have a strong and capable fleet. During the peaceful reign of James the navy had greatly deteriorated from what it had been under Queen Elizabeth.[444] The expedition to Cadiz in 1625, and that to Rhé two years later, revealed startling inefficiency and disorganisation, and efforts were soon made to bring it into a better state. When he assumed the crown, his fleet consisted of thirty ships; in 1633 it numbered fifty, including the ten small vessels called the “Lion’s Whelps”; and when the Civil War broke out there were forty-two, the difference being due to the shedding of the smaller ones.[445]
There were many reasons why a strong fleet should be provided, apart from any question of enforcing a new political sovereignty over the North Sea and the Channel. The maritime strength of the United Provinces was growing quickly, and France, under the wise and energetic guidance of Richelieu, was rapidly becoming a formidable naval power. Within the space of about five years before 1631, as Charles knew, the Cardinal had created a fleet of thirty-nine ships, of which eighteen were of 500 tons or over, and no less than twenty-seven had been built in French ports.[446] These two states were drawing closer together, and while it was known that their alliance, which was then mooted and was soon realised, would be chiefly directed against Spain, it was nevertheless a danger to England unless she was strong enough to defend her rights on the sea.
Other reasons were the insecurity of the seas from the prevalence of piracy, and the violation of the “King’s Chambers,” and even of English ports, by the Dunkirkers and the Dutch. Moorish pirates swarmed in the Channel and made havoc amongst English shipping. So bold and successful were they, that in 1631 they seized and sacked Baltimore, on the coast of Munster, and carried off over 200 English subjects into slavery. Within a space of ten days they captured twenty-seven ships and 200 men.[447] The Dunkirkers played a corresponding rôle in the North Sea. In a petition to the king in 1627, the ship-owners of Ipswich complained that within a year the Dunkirkers had captured five of their ships, valued with their cargoes at £5000, and carried the crews to Dunkirk. No ship, they said, could go to sea, and the livelihood of seafaring men was taken from them, and the king’s service would thus suffer. The Mayor and burgesses of King’s Lynn put the losses of the town at twenty-five ships, worth £9000, and complained that they were unable to carry on the Iceland fishery. The Cinque Ports also complained that the Dunkirkers had taken their goods, imprisoned their mariners, and rifled and sunk their ships on the English shore; and they asked for a guard to enable them to go to the fishing in the north and at Scarborough and Yarmouth. The alarm was general all along the coast. In February 1629 the bailiffs of Yarmouth reported that the sea was overrun with Dunkirkers, who had even rifled and fired one of their ships close under the cliffs at Mundesley, notwithstanding the efforts of the sheriff and posse of the county; they said 250 fishing vessels were ready to go to the northern fishing and awaited convoy. In the next year they and other towns of Norfolk and Suffolk stated their intention of sending out two fishing fleets of “ships, barks, and crayers,”—one of 160 sail to Iceland and Westmony, and the other of 230 sail for the north seas,—and they begged for ships of war to guard them, as the livelihood or “utter ruin” of 10,000 people and their families depended on these fleets. Two years later they repeated their request to the Admiralty, saying they usually sent out a fleet of about 300 sail, with 5000 persons, to the fishings mentioned, but the fishermen were now so terrified by the Dunkirkers that they refused to go. The Mayor of Newcastle also informed the Council that they had been despoiled to the extent of £7000; he said there were 300 sail in port which dared not venture out; and the Council were asked to take means to secure safe passage on the sea. At this time there were said to be forty Dunkirk privateers scouring the North Sea, many of them with English sailors on board.[448] We have already seen how successfully these freebooters preyed upon the busses of the Fishery Society.
Here then was a clear case for a navy, when an effective navy did not exist. The Council and the Admiralty took such isolated measures as they could; but the Dunkirkers were almost always too nimble to be caught. “They take ships,” wrote the commander of a man-of-war convoying the Iceland fishing fleet, “and we in sight and cannot come up to help it.” The duty and expense of providing convoys to protect the fishermen were thrown on the fishing ports and the counties. In 1627 the Council ordered four Newcastle ships to be taken up for eight months, to convoy the Iceland fleet, at a cost of £1768, to be paid out of the “loans” in Suffolk. The estimate in the following year for a guard of four merchant ships, of 400 tons each, with 120 men for one month in harbour and 240 men for six months at sea, was £4399; and the Council in authorising the Admiralty to “press, victual, arm, and man” the ships, instructed that if Yarmouth and the other towns wanted convoy in future they should first consult together as to some mode of levying monies for it, either upon the coast towns or upon the counties of Norfolk and Suffolk. This was done, in part at least, by levying a contribution of twenty shillings from each fisherman; and fishermen also protected themselves by insuring their vessels in London against the risks of capture by the Dunkirk privateers. The owners and masters of the merchant ships thus pressed to act as guards to the fishing fleets were usually most unwilling to serve, and sometimes “utterly refused,” and the Admiralty had to get an Order in Council to compel them.[449] Provision of a guard for the east coast generally was attempted by levying a duty of two and five shillings a ton on all coal laden at Newcastle or Sunderland for English and foreign ports respectively.[450]
Equally impressive evidence of the lawlessness that then reigned on the sea, and of the inability to deal with it effectively, was furnished by the flagrant violation of English ports and roadsteads, by the Dutch as well as the Dunkirkers, who waged incessant war with one another. The herring-busses and merchant vessels of the former were frequently captured, rifled, and burned by the privateers, and when the commander of a Dutch man-of-war had a chance of destroying one of the pests, he was not always deterred from vengeance by the Dunkirker taking refuge in English waters; and in like manner the privateer did not scruple to pursue his prey into English ports and anchorages. Sometimes, indeed, the warfare was continued on English soil and the lives of the king’s lieges endangered. In 1634, for example, a Dunkirker chased a Hollander vessel into Yarmouth harbour and robbed her, and a lively fusillade went on between the Dutchmen, who had taken refuge on the pier, and the crew of the privateer, and one of the former was killed. As the Dunkirkers refused to stop their “furious assault,” the bailiffs ordered two of the town’s guns to be fired at them, “which they only scoffed at”; and when the marshal called upon them in the king’s name to desist and begone, they only “answered with unseemly gestures and scorn,” and they did not make off until a company of musketeers went down to them. But next day as the privateer was hovering off the coast, two States’ men-of-war bore down upon her and she ran for shelter to the beach near Lowestoft; but the Dutch followed, seized her, and carried her off, the crew escaping to shore, where they were promptly arrested and lodged in Yarmouth jail.
A still more outrageous transgression of the neutrality of an English port took place in the following year, at the very time that Lindsey’s fleet was cruising in the Channel. A Dunkirker brought a Hollander buss into Scarborough harbour, and she was followed by a States’ man-of-war, which opened fire, and a fight both with cannon and muskets took place. The bullets, flying into the town, hit several of the citizens, and some strangers on the sands were also hurt, “to the amazement and discouragement of the whole town.” Twelve Dunkirkers were slain, and the rest only saved themselves by swimming ashore, while the man-of-war went off with both the privateer and the buss. A fortnight later another privateer was chased into the harbour by a Hollander man-of-war, which landed three or four score of men, armed with muskets and pikes, to set upon the Dunkirkers when the ship lay dry; and the Dutch captain only consented to re-embark them, on condition that the bailiffs of the town would themselves place a guard of fifty men to watch the privateer, so as to prevent any of the crew escaping.[451]