In the reign of Henry V., the most glorious period up to that time of the British Navy, the French lost nearly all their navy to us at various times; among other victories, Henry Page, Admiral of the Cinque Ports, captured 120 merchantmen forming the Rochelle fleet, and all richly laden. Towards the close of this reign, about the year 1416, England formally claimed the dominion of the sea, and a Parliamentary document recorded the fact. “It was never absolute,” says Sir Walter Raleigh, “until the time of Henry VIII.” That great voyager and statesman adds that, “Whoever commands the sea, commands the trade of the world; whosoever commands the trade, commands the riches of the world, and consequently the world itself.”

A curious poem is included in the first volume of Hakluyt’s famous collection of voyages, bearing reference to the navy of Henry. It is entitled, “The English Policie, exhorting all England to keep the Sea,” &c. It was written apparently about the year 1435. It is a long poem, and the following is an extract merely:—

Next year we read of Henry preparing to again attack France. The enemy had increased their naval force by hiring a number of Genoese and other Italian vessels. The king sent a preliminary force against them under his kinsman, the Earl of Huntingdon, who, near the mouth of the Seine, succeeded in sinking three and capturing three of the great Genoese carracks, taking the Admiral Jacques, the Bastard of Bourbon, “and as much money as would have been half a year’s pay for the whole fleet.” These prizes were brought to Southampton, “from whence the king shortly set forth with a fleet of 1,500 ships, the sails of his own vessel being of purple silk, richly embroidered with gold.” The remainder of Henry’s brief reign—for he died the same year—is but the history of a series of successes over his enemies.

It must never be forgotten that the navies of our early history were not permanently organised, but drawn from all sources. A noble, a city or port, voluntarily or otherwise, contributed according to the exigencies of the occasion. As we shall see, it is to Henry VIII. that we owe the establishment of a Royal Navy as a permanent institution. In 1546 King Henry’s vessels are classified according to their “quality,” thus: “ships,” “galleases,” “pynaces,” “roe-barges.” A list bearing date in 1612 exhibits the classes as follows:—“Shipps royal,” measuring downwards from 1,200 to 800 tons; “middling shipps,” from 800 to 600 tons; “small shipps,” 350 tons; and pinnaces, from 200 to 80 tons. According to the old definition, a ship was defined to be a “large hollow building, made to pass over the seas with sails,” without reference to size or quality. Before the days of the Great Harry, few, if any, English ships had more than one mast or one sail; that ship had three masts, and the Henri Grace de Dieu, which supplanted her, four. The galleas was probably a long, low, and sharp-built vessel, propelled by oars as well as by sails; the latter probably not fixed to the mast or any standing yard, but hoisted from the deck when required to be used, as in the lugger or felucca of modern days. The pinnace was a smaller description of galleas, while the row-barge is sufficiently explained by its title.

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.

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 first incident in the naval history of the next reign, that of Henry VIII., grew out of an event which had occurred long before. A Portuguese squadron had, in the year 1476, seized a Scottish ship, laden with a rich cargo, and commanded by John Barton. Letters of marque were granted him, which he had not, apparently, used to any great advantage, for they were renewed to his three sons thirty years afterwards. The Bartons were not content with repaying themselves for their loss, but found the Portuguese captures so profitable that they became confirmed pirates, “and when they felt their own strength, they seem, with little scruple, to have considered ships of any nation as their fair prize.” Complaints were lodged before Henry, but were almost ignored, “till the Earl of Surrey, then Treasurer and Marshal of England, declared at the council board, that while he had an estate that could furnish out a ship, or a son that was capable of commanding one, the narrow seas should not be so infested.” Two ships, commanded by his two sons, Sir Thomas and Sir Edward Howard, were made ready, with the king’s knowledge and consent. The two brothers put to sea, but were separated by stress of weather; the same happened to the two pirate ships—the Lion, under Sir Andrew Barton’s own command, and the Jenny Perwin, or Bark of Scotland. The strength of one of them is thus described in an old ballad, by a merchant, one of Sir Andrew’s victims, who is supposed to relate his tale to Sir Thomas Howard:—

Some of the edicts of the period seem strange enough to modern ears. The Scotch Parliament had passed an Act forbidding any ship freighted with staple goods to put to sea during the three winter months, under a penalty of five pounds. In 1493, a generation after the Act was passed, another provided that all burghs and towns should provide ships and busses, the least to be of twenty tons, fitted according to the means of the said places, provided with mariners, nets, and all necessary gear for taking “great fish and small.” The officers in every burgh were to make all the “stark idle men” within their bounds go on board these vessels, and serve them there for their wages, or, in case of refusal, banish them from their burgh. This was done with the idea of training a maritime force, but seems to have produced little effect. James IV. built a ship, however, which was, according to Scottish writers, larger and more powerfully armed than any then built in England or France. She was called the Great Michael, and “was of so great stature that she wasted all the oak forests of Fife, Falkland only excepted.” Southey reminds us that the Scots, like the Irish of the time, were constantly in feud with each other, and consequently destroyed their forests, to prevent the danger of ambuscades, and also to cut off the means of escape. Timber for this ship was brought from Norway, and though all the shipwrights in Scotland and many others from foreign countries were busily employed upon her, she took a year and a day to complete. The vessel is described as twelve score feet in length, and thirty-six in breadth of beam, within the walls, which were ten feet each thick, so that no cannon-ball could go through them. She had 300 mariners on board, six score gunners, and 1,000 men-of-war, including officers, “captains, skippers, and quarter-masters.” Sir Andrew Wood and Robert Barton were two of the chief officers. “This great ship cumbered Scotland to get her to sea. From the time that she was afloat, and her masts and sails complete, with anchors offering thereto, she was counted to the king to be thirty thousand pounds expense, by her artillery, which was very costly.” The Great Michael never did enough to have a single exploit recorded, nor was she unfortunate enough to meet a tragic ending.

In the reign of Henry VIII. a navy office was first formed, and regular arsenals were established at Portsmouth, Woolwich, and Deptford. The change in maritime warfare consequent on the use of gunpowder rendered ships of a new construction necessary, and more was done for the improvement of the navy in this reign than in any former one. Italian shipwrights, then the most expert, were engaged, and at the conclusion of Henry’s reign the Royal Navy consisted of seventy-one vessels, thirty of which were ships of respectable burden, aggregating 10,550 tons. Five years later, it had dwindled to less than one-half. Six years after Henry’s death, England lost Calais, a fort and town which had cost Edward III., in the height of his power, an obstinate siege of eleven months. But on Elizabeth’s accession to the throne, the star of England was once more in the ascendant.

The greatest and most glorious event of her reign was, without cavil, the defeat of the Spanish Armada, at one time deemed and called “The Invincible.” With the political complications which preceded the invasion, we have nought to do: it was largely a religious war, inasmuch as Popish machinations were at the bottom of all. When the contest became inevitable, the Spanish Government threw off dissimulation, and showed “a disdainful disregard of secrecy as to its intentions, or rather a proud manifestation of them, which,” says Southey, “if they had been successful, might have been called magnanimous.” Philip had determined on putting forth his might, and accounts which were ostentatiously published in advance termed it “The most fortunate and invincible Armada.” The fleet consisted of 130 ships and twenty caravels, having on board nearly 20,000 soldiers, 8,450 marines, 2,088 galley-slaves, with 2,630 great pieces of brass artillery. The names of all the saints appeared in the nomenclature of the ships, “while,” says Southey, “holier appellations, which ought never to be thus applied, were strangely associated with the Great Griffin and the Sea Dog, the Cat and the White Falcon.” Every noble house in Spain was represented, and there were 180 friars and Jesuits, with Cardinal Allen at their head, a prelate who had not long before published at Antwerp a gross libel on Elizabeth, calling her “heretic, rebel, and usurper, an incestuous bastard, the bane of Christendom, and firebrand of all mischief.” These priests were to bring England back to the true Church the moment they landed. The galleons being above sixty in number were, “exceeding great, fair, and strong, and built high above the water, like castles, easy to be fought withal, but not so easy to board as the English and the Netherland ships; their upper decks were musket-proof, and beneath they were four or five feet thick, so that no bullet could pass them. Their masts were bound about with oakum, or pieces of fazeled ropes, and armed against all shot. The galleases were goodly great vessels, furnished with chambers, chapels, towers, pulpits, and such-like; they rowed like galleys, with exceeding great oars, each having 300 slaves, and were able to do much harm with their great ordnance.” Most severe discipline was to be preserved; blasphemy and oaths were to be punished rigidly; gaming, as provocative of these, and quarrelling, were forbidden; no one might wear a dagger; religious exercises, including the use of a special litany, in which all archangels, angels, and saints, were invoked to assist with their prayers against the English heretics and enemies of the faith, were enjoined. “No man,” says Southey, “ever set forth upon a bad cause with better will, nor under a stronger delusion of perverted faith.” The gunners were instructed to have half butts filled with water and vinegar, wet clothes, old sails, &c., ready to extinguish fire, and what seems strange now-a-days, in addition to the regular artillery, every ship was to carry two boats’-loads of large stones, to throw on the enemy’s decks, forecastles, &c., during an encounter.

Some urged the queen to place no reliance on maritime defence, but to receive the enemy only on shore. Elizabeth thought otherwise, and determined that the enemy should reap no more advantage on the sea than on land. She gave the command of the whole fleet to Charles Lord Howard of Effingham; Drake being vice-admiral, and Hawkins and Frobisher—all grand names in naval history—being in the western division. Lord Henry Seymour was to lie off the coast of Flanders with forty ships, Dutch and English, and prevent the Prince of Parma from forming a junction with the Armada. The whole number of ships collected for the defence of the country was 191, and the number of seamen 17,472. There was one ship in the fleet (the Triumph) of 1,100 tons, one of 1,000, one of 900, and two of 800 tons each, but the larger part of the vessels were very small, and the aggregate tonnage amounted to only about half that of the Armada. For the land defence over 100,000 men were called out, regimented, and armed, but only half of them were trained. This was exclusive of the Border and Yorkshire forces.