The Sea: Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, & Heroism (Vol. 1-4). Frederick Whymper
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 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 of his actions were most unmitigated specimens of piracy, on nations little concerned with the Houses of York and Lancaster, their quarrels or wars.
But as this is not intended to be even a sketch of the history of England, let us pass to the commencement of the reign of Henry VII., when the “great minishment and decay of the navy, and the idleness of the mariners,” were represented to his first Parliament, and led to certain enactments in regard to the use of foreign bottoms. The wines of Southern France were forbidden to be imported hither in any but English, Irish, or Welsh ships, manned by English, Irish, or Welsh sailors. This Act was repeated in the fourth year of Henry’s reign, and made to include other articles, while it was then forbidden to freight an alien ship from or to England with “any manner of merchandise,” if sufficient freight were to be had in English vessels, on pain of forfeiture, one-half to the king, the other to the seizers. “Henry,” says Lord Bacon, “being a king that loved wealth, and treasure, he could not endure to have trade sick, nor any obstruction to continue in the gate-vein which disperseth that blood.” How well he loved riches is proved by the fact that when a speedy and not altogether creditable peace was established between England and France, and the indemnity had been paid by the latter, the money went into the king’s private coffers; those who had impoverished themselves in his service, or had contributed to the general outfit by the forced “benevolence,” were left out in the cold. From Calais Henry wrote letters to the Lord Mayor and aldermen (“which was a courtesy,” says Lord Bacon, “that he sometimes used), half bragging what great sums he had obtained for the peace, as knowing well that it was ever good news in London that the king’s coffers were full; better news it would have been if their benevolence had been but a loan.”
SIR ANDREW WOOD’S VICTORY.
Scotch historians tell us that Sir Andrew Wood, of Largo, Scotland, had with his two vessels, the Flower and Yellow Carvel, captured five chosen vessels of the royal navy, which had infested the Firth of Forth, and had taken many prizes from the Scotch previously, during this reign. Henry VII. was greatly mortified by this defeat, and offered to put any means at the disposal of the officer who would undertake this service, and great rewards if Wood were brought to him alive or dead. All hesitated, such was the renown of Wood, and his strength in men and artillery, and maritime and military skill. At length, Sir Stephen Bull, a man of distinguished prowess, offered himself, and three ships were placed under his command, with which he sailed for the Forth, and anchored behind the Isle of May, waiting Wood’s return from a foreign voyage. Some fishermen were captured and detained, in order that they should point out Sir Andrew’s ships when they arrived. “It was early in the morning when the action began; the Scots, by their skilful manœuvring, obtained the weather-gage, and the battle continued in sight of innumerable spectators who thronged the coast, till darkness suspended it. It was renewed at day-break; the ships grappled; and both parties were so intent upon the struggle, that the tide carried them into the mouth of the Tay, into such shoal water that the English, seeing no means of extricating themselves, surrendered. Sir Andrew brought his prizes to Dundee; the wounded were carefully attended there; and James, with royal magnanimity is said to have sent both prisoners and ships to Henry, praising the courage which they had displayed, and saying that the contest was for honour, not for booty.”
Few naval incidents occurred under the reign of Henry VII., but it belongs, nevertheless, to the most important age of maritime discovery. Henry had really assented to the propositions of Columbus after Portugal had refused them; had not the latter’s brother, Bartholomew, been captured by pirates on his way to England, and detained as a slave at the oar, the Spaniards would not have had the honour of discovering the New World. This, and the grand discoveries of Cabot (directly encouraged by Henry), who reached Newfoundland and Florida; the various expeditions down the African coast instituted by Dom John; the discovery of the Cape and new route to India by Diaz and Vasco de Gama; the discovery of the Pacific by Balboa, and Cape Horn and the Straits by Magellan, will be detailed in another section of this work. They belong to this and immediately succeeding reigns, and mark the grandest epoch in the history of geographical discovery.
“The use of fire-arms,” says Southey, “without which the conquests of the Spaniards in the New World must have been impossible, changed the character of naval war sooner than it did the system of naval tactics,