CHAPTER XIII.
CHARLES II.—continued.
THE THIRD DUTCH WAR.

The “honour of the flag” and the sovereignty of the sea were now about to gain a shameful notoriety in connection with the third Dutch war, which Charles, from the basest personal motives and in the most treacherous manner, suddenly sprang upon the Republic. At that time, and for long afterwards, European policy turned upon the ambitious designs of Louis XIV. Laying claim to the Spanish dominions, he overran the Low Countries in 1667 with an army of 40,000 men. The rapidity of the conquest and the display of formidable military power filled Europe with alarm; and the United Provinces, which lay nearest the scene of danger, were thrown into apprehension as to their own safety. In England popular feeling was very hostile to France, and Charles, after some hesitation, despatched Sir William Temple to The Hague to conclude an alliance against France, which he succeeded in accomplishing in a few days—in January 1668,—and it was adhered to by Sweden. The Triple Alliance thus formed was hailed with enthusiasm in England, and it abruptly and effectually checked Louis in the execution of his plans. Deeply mortified, the French king bent his energies and talents to detach Charles from the League, in order to wreak his vengeance on the Dutch Republic, and he succeeded even better than he expected. Charles was deeply in debt, and the expenses of his Court were heavy. His relations with the Parliament were becoming strained and difficult. Mistrust was growing up 475 between him and his subjects, and, mindful of the fate of his father, he thought it prudent to secure in secret a wealthy and powerful ally lest rebellion again broke out in England. Within a year of the signing of the Triple Alliance Charles was gained over by France, and the compact was sealed in the disgraceful secret treaty of Dover in May 1670. Under the treaty Charles was to receive a large yearly pension from Louis, and aid in case of insurrection; he was to avow and re-establish the Roman Catholic religion in England when it could be done with safety; and he was to begin hostilities against the Dutch Republic when Louis required him by furnishing 4000 men and fifty ships of war, for which he was to receive a subsidy of ￡120,000, and to gain as his share of the spoils of conquest Walcheren, Sluys, and Cadsand. Louis crowned the dishonourable compact with the appropriate gift of a new mistress to his royal ally—Mademoiselle de Kerouaille, afterwards the Duchess of Portsmouth, who well served the interests of France.881

In order to carry out his part of the iniquitous bargain, it was necessary for Charles, as the vassal of France, to deceive his subjects and his Parliament as well as his public ally, the Dutch Republic. He had first to get money for the armaments, for which the subsidy from France was insufficient, and he had then to discover some pretext for the war which would make it least objectionable to the English people. For the former purpose he resorted to a bold subterfuge. The sentiment of both the Parliament and the people was hostile to France, and advantage was taken of this circumstance to obtain a subsidy under false pretences. When Parliament met in October 1670 the Lord Keeper, by the king’s commands, made a speech on the state of public affairs, in which he enlarged on the king’s need of supply; pointed to the great strengthening of the French navy and the decay of our own; urged the necessity of fitting out in the ensuing year a fleet of fifty sail; and dwelt upon the obligations placed upon the king by several treaties to exert himself for the good of Christendom, mentioning among others the Triple Alliance and the League with the United Provinces. The trick succeeded. Parliament, uneasy 476 at the recent journey of Louis to Flanders and the naval preparations in France, voted a sum of ￡800,000.882

It was also indispensable to foment ill-feeling against the Dutch, and to devise disputes with them so as to prepare the way for a rupture. Some time before this, at Genoa, a Dutch commander, Captain Braeckel, who had led the attack on the English ships at Chatham in 1667, had hoisted under the Dutch colours some English flags which he had taken on that occasion, in derision of the English in the port. Charles demanded reparation and the punishment of Braeckel; and the States-General ultimately ordered the trophies to be given up, and sent them to London.883 Later, the king complained that the States-General had allowed him and the English people to be insulted by lampoons, medals, &c., commemorating the exploits of the Dutch fleet in the Thames in 1667, the king suing for peace at Breda, and so forth. The States-General, when the king continued to press these complaints, seized all copies of certain lampoons and destroyed the dies of several of the medals. Charles then boldly accused the Grand Pensionary De Witt of having carried on a confidential correspondence with France with the object of inducing that Power to take up arms against England. The accusation was meant to prejudice the Dutch in the eyes of the Parliament; and the States, to prove their sincerity, sent fresh proposals for an alliance, to which Charles replied that they should first have offered him subsidies. The apprehension of the States that the king was inclined to force a quarrel on them was not lessened by intelligence they received that he had abandoned the Triple Alliance, and especially by the recall of Sir William Temple from The Hague in 1670,—a step that followed the seizure of Lorraine by Louis.

Affairs were ripening to the wished-for crisis, and Charles now sought for a decisive pretext, which, while making war inevitable, would lessen its unpopularity in England. Such a pretext was to be found in the “honour of the flag.” No cry was more likely to rouse resentment in the people than that the flag had been insulted and the sovereignty of the 477 sea threatened. To insult the flag was to insult the nation. The king was well aware from the repeated declarations of the States-General that they would never willingly acknowledge England’s sovereignty of the sea: they had said they would “rather die first.” He was also doubtless fully acquainted with the fixed opinion of the Grand Pensionary that to claim that the whole Dutch fleet should strike to a single frigate or a ketch was “intolerable.” He contrived his measures accordingly, and decided to send one of his yachts to pass through the States’ fleet, on their own coast, and to fire upon them if they did not strike their flags in the accustomed manner. The matter was deliberately considered. The clause in the treaty of Breda was not very clear as to whether a yacht, or even a man-of-war, could compel the whole Dutch fleet to strike, and on the Dutch coast. Just about the time Temple returned from The Hague, Sir Leoline Jenkins, Judge of the High Court of Admiralty, wrote a confidential letter to Sir Thomas Allin, the commander of the Blue, asking him to find out secretly, “as if for his own satisfaction,” whether there were any “ancient seamen” at Trinity House or elsewhere who were on board the Happy Entrance when it carried the Earl of Arundel to Holland in 1636, and if so, whether they remembered that on entering the road of Goeree, in Holland, Admiral Tromp, who was at anchor there, struck his flag to it; and similar information was asked in regard to other cases of like import in 1637 and later. The question was also put to Sir Thomas, “How far the British Sea, or British Ocean, does in common reputation extend itself; and whether all that which washes the coasts of the Low Countries, as well as that which runs upon the French coast, has been anciently deemed and reputed to be British Sea?” Jenkins explained that he had been desired by the king to obtain proof of the striking of the flag as secretly as possible; and the two chief points were, (1) “Had not the French and the Dutch always struck to the king’s flag even on their own coasts? and (2) that a single ship of ours, if commissioned for war, though never so inconsiderable in its strength, did make whole squadrons and fleets of the neighbouring nations to strike, and particularly the Spaniards near the Spanish Netherlands 478 and the subjects of the United Provinces near their coasts?”884

The reference to the French and Spaniards was no doubt meant to conceal the real significance of the inquiry. The reply of the admiral seems not to have been preserved, but a later memorandum of Jenkins answers the questions as to the striking of the flag at Goeree, and in the other cases, in the affirmative. The Trinity House, whose opinion was also asked, said that it had been commonly received by them from their predecessors that the British seas “extend to Cape Finisterre, or the North Cape” (sic), and that the sea which washes the coast of the Low Countries and France had been always reputed part of the British seas. “To know how far it does extend northwards,” they ingenuously added, “we desire you will please to consult those authors who have treated on that subject, it not being known to a certain by us.”885 They had been unable to meet with any persons who knew about the alleged cases of striking, so that Jenkins must have obtained the information about them from other sources.

There can be no doubt that Charles was advised by the authorities he consulted on the ambiguous points in the article of Breda that (1) any king’s ship, however small, commissioned for war, was a “man-of-war” in the sense of the treaty, and could call upon the whole Dutch fleet to strike; (2) that the British seas included those washing the coasts of the United Provinces; and (3) with respect to the previous custom referred to in the treaty, that the Dutch had struck on their own coasts.

Thus fortified in law and precedent, the way was clear for Charles to pick a quarrel with the States about the striking of the flag, and he despatched, not a man-of-war, nor even a frigate, but his yacht, the Merlin, for the purpose. Ostensibly it was sent to bring over Lady Temple, who had, by his wish, remained in Holland since her husband’s departure, but with orders to pass through the Dutch fleet then cruising in the Channel, and to fire at them until they struck their flags or fired back at the Merlin. As the French ambassador, 479 who was in the secret, tersely put it to his Court, “the captain is to use all his powder, so as to give good cause for a quarrel.” The Merlin on her way to Holland passed through the Dutch fleet, but owing to a heavy gale she could not get near enough to execute the king’s commands. She appears, however, to have met two Dutch men-of-war convoying the herring-busses, who exchanged guns with her but did not strike their flag.886 But in returning, early in August, with Lady Temple on board, the Merlin, with the royal standard flying, came upon the States’ fleet lying at anchor beyond the Goodwins, six leagues from the coast of Zealand and sixteen leagues from England. The little yacht, while still at a distance, began to fire at the Dutch flagship. De Ruyter did not reply at once, but the Lieutenant-Admiral, Van Ghent, thinking that it was merely a question of the salute, returned the guns in the usual manner, and was not a little surprised to receive for his pains a discharge of cannon-balls. He sent an officer on board the yacht for an explanation, and Captain Crow, the commander of the Merlin, informed him that he had been sent to bring the English ambassadress with her family from Holland, and had orders to make the Dutch fleet lower their colours wherever he met with it. On hearing this, Van Ghent, on the pretext of paying a compliment to Lady Temple, whom he had frequently met at The Hague, went himself on board the Merlin. He told Captain Crow that the point he had raised was one on which he had received no orders from the States, and that he could not concede the claim without express commands. He declared his willingness to pay due respect to the English flag according to the former practice, but he thought it could scarcely be contended that the admiral and the whole fleet should strike on their own coast to a single vessel, and that vessel a yacht, which was only a pleasure-boat, or at least served only for a passage, and could not pass for a 480 man-of-war. It was at all events, he said, a question which should first be submitted to inquiry by the two Governments.

Captain Crow was puzzled and perplexed, and on Van Ghent’s departure he appealed to Lady Temple as to what he should do. She, seeing he did not relish his job and would be glad to get out of it by her help, shrewdly told him that he knew his orders best and what he ought to do, and begged him not to mind her or her children. After firing another gun, the Merlin continued her voyage to England, leaving the Dutch fleet with their flags displayed, and without having fired a single angry shot in reply. Very naturally, Charles was irritated at the miscarriage of his plan. He had hoped for a sharp and unequal contest about the flag, the news of which would have rung from end to end of England and enabled him to drag the country into war to resent the affront. Crow was thrown into the Tower, “for refusing to do his duty towards the Dutch men-of-war who refused to strike to the king’s flag.” The Privy Council debated whether a frigate, the other class of vessel to whose status De Witt had objected, should not be hastily despatched to the Dutch fleet to draw the spark which the Merlin had failed to elicit, by firing on every ship that refused to take in her flag. Probably the device was deemed to be too transparent; but it was rumoured that the captain of the Reserve, which left Deal a few days later for Portsmouth, had received instructions to fight the Dutch fleet if he met them and they did not strike,—a rumour which, it was reported, “deads the hearts of people lest we should have war with Holland.”

Meanwhile, Sir Leoline Jenkins was requested to inquire into the case of the Merlin, presumably to see what could be made of it. He examined Lady Temple and others, and drew up a memorandum embodying the information he had received as to the extent of the British seas and the precedents of striking to the English flag off foreign coasts.887 After citing the precedents at Goeree and elsewhere, he expressed an opinion against calling witnesses in such cases “for fear of chicane,” declaring that we had “a constant uninterrupted possession of the prerogative, 481 with the highest notoriety that public immemorial reputation can give, in the British seas, and that the onus of making proof as to the non-use and enjoyment of it in some certain places or rencounters, as for instance the Dutch coast, or when a small sail of ours met a fleet of theirs, was cast by the law and by reason upon our opposers.”888 The English Government did not make any immediate protest to the States-General about Van Ghent’s refusal to strike to the yacht, possibly lest they might proffer satisfaction and dispose of the episode; but Charles boldly told the Dutch ambassadors that he thought the conduct of their admiral had been premeditated.

Up to this time the Dutch had failed to discern the danger which was approaching. After the Merlin incident indeed, as Temple tells us, the Dutch ambassadors in London, “with as ill noses as they have, began to smell the powder after the Captain’s shooting.” But relying on the well-known animosity of the English people and Parliament to France, and their aversion to a rupture of the Triple Alliance, they fondly clung to the belief that the incident was one of the temporary misunderstandings about the flag which would be readily cleared up. The States-General were equally undiscerning, and perhaps a little more obtuse. They adopted a course which, however proper it might have been under other circumstances, now served only to play into the hands of Charles. A manifesto was prepared declaring that by the terms of the treaties with England the salute was to be regulated according to the custom in the past; that it could not be claimed except in British waters, where—as their High Mightinesses thought it well to remind the king—it was offered only as a mark of courtesy, and not in recognition of England’s pretension to the sovereignty of the sea. And in order that their intention might be perfectly clear, they instructed De Ruyter to draw up a set of rules prescribing the salute to be given in future by the Dutch fleet to English or French men-of-war on the Dutch coast, which was to be confined to the exchange of guns without striking the flag at all. 482

Thus, by their own maladroitness as it happened, the States were drawn into precisely the dispute that Charles had been longing for—a dispute about the flag and the sovereignty of the sea. He replied by sending Downing to The Hague, in December 1671, as ambassador extraordinary, with a sheaf of peremptory and intolerable demands. The choice of the ambassador was in itself significant of much, for Downing was known to be repugnant to the States-General, partly from his overbearing and quarrelsome disposition, still more because of his unconcealed enmity to the Dutch people. He was to demand free trade for the English in the Dutch plantations in the Indies; redress and satisfaction for the pamphlets and medals insulting to the king; above all, he was to present to the States-General a memorial requiring that they should “solemnly and clearly acknowledge, in writing, the king’s right to the dominion of these seas, and that they neither do nor will dispute it, but expressly engage themselves that all ships or fleets of theirs, however numerous, shall, upon warning given by any ship or ships of war, carrying English colours, of what rate or bigness soever, strike their top-sails and lower their flags, as has been ever practised.” As a pendicle to this, he was to demand that Van Ghent should be “exemplarily punished for the insolent affront done by him to a small English man-of-war [the Merlin] in refusing to strike.” If within a fortnight no answer was received to this “memorial,” Downing was to present a sharp and peremptory note demanding an immediate reply, and if he did not get it within another week, he was instantly to quit The Hague, without giving any notice of his intention to go.

While Downing was away on his explosive mission, Boreel, the Dutch ambassador in London, was beguiled with smooth words in order to lull the States-General into a feeling of security. On the eve of his departure, Downing told him he was going to The Hague with the object of strengthening the good understanding between the two countries, and Charles treated the ambassador with the most friendly courtesy. The ease with which the Dutch were being hoodwinked caused much amusement in Paris. But Charles was not yet quite ready. He needed a great deal more money than what was left of the ￡800,000 which the House of Commons had voted. 483 Afraid to summon Parliament again, or to levy taxes under the prerogative as Charles I. had levied the ship-money, he had recourse to the daring expedient of closing the Exchequer, by which he robbed the public creditors of some ￡1,200,000, causing widespread ruin and commercial panic. A little later, on 21st January 1672, the first quarterly instalment of the subsidy of three million livres from Louis was landed at Rye, and escorted to the Tower by forty men of the Guards and a trumpeter. Now in possession of ample supplies, Charles hastened to throw aside the mask. Downing played his arrogant part at The Hague, refusing to allow any debate as to the justice of his demands. When he suddenly called for his passports, the States-General began to awaken to a truer sense of their position, menaced as they also were by imminent peril from France. Adopting the advice of the deluded Boreel, that by yielding on the question of the flag they would remove any inclination the English people had for war with them, since England really cherished enmity against France, the States-General agreed to comply with the claims of Charles respecting the salute. The concession was still joined with the offensive proviso that they gave it only as a mark of respect to a powerful monarch: it was, moreover, to be conditional on the maintenance of the Triple Alliance. Downing told them the offer came too late, and slunk away home, reaching London on 6th February, where the king, displeased with his management of the affair, sent him to the Tower “for not having obeyed the orders sent him.”

The flight of Downing threw the States-General into consternation. Meerman, previously their ambassador at the English Court, was despatched in haste to London to renew the offer about the flag, to agree to the dismissal of Van Ghent, and to tender large subsidies for the king’s privy purse. At the audience with Meerman and Boreel, Charles skilfully evaded their proposals and expressed surprise that they had not submitted a formal signed paper. This they made haste to do, and they were then informed that it was ambiguous and obscure, but in what particulars they could not learn. They next submitted a draft to Arlington and Lauderdale, the English commissioners appointed to treat with them, with the request that they might amend it as they 484 thought fit, but they were haughtily told that it was none of their business to draw up papers for the Dutch. Finally, they signed a written engagement to give satisfaction about the flag, but at the conference appointed for its reception the English refused to consider it, saying the time for negotiations was now past.889

The time was now obviously ripe for a declaration of war; but Charles before taking this step had resolved on an audacious and treacherous stroke, by which he hoped to gain much plunder for himself while diminishing the resources of the Dutch. In spite of the solemn obligations of treaties for the temporary security of their shipping even if war broke out, it was decided to attack and capture Dutch merchant vessels in time of peace. Here also a ready excuse might be found by contriving disputes about the striking of the flag. As early as 26th January, Sir Robert Holmes sent an express to Arlington recommending the seizure of a Dutch fleet laden with salt and wine, which lay wind-bound at the Isle of Wight, under the convoy of three or four States’ men-of-war. He said that in Holland there was a great scarcity of salt, and that without it they could not carry on their fishery or provide for their garrisons; 485 the capture of the salt fleet would thus overwhelm them in ruin even greater than would the loss of their East Indian fleet. But ships were apparently not ready for this venture—and, besides, it was not salt that Charles wanted. On 18th February orders were sent to the Mediterranean to take and sell, or to destroy, all Dutch shipping. On 5th March Charles wrote to the Duke of York commanding that, as he had received many indignities from the States-General, and his demand for reparation against one of their subjects who refused to strike his flag remained unanswered, such men-of-war as were ready at Portsmouth should immediately put to sea and seize and bring into port, with their cargoes intact, any Dutch vessels they met with, and destroy those that resisted. Another royal command on the following day included Hamburg vessels in the piratical order, since Dutch ships often sailed under that flag; and in this missive, as a sort of moral salve, the king announced that he had resolved to make war on the States-General.

The first capture was made on 8th March, and when Boreel demanded restitution, he was told, boldly but incautiously, that the Dutch ships would be seized everywhere. The Cadiz fleet returning to the United Provinces had a very narrow escape, having passed up Channel on the day Holmes received his instructions. On the next day, 13th March, off the Isle of Wight, he fell in with the Smyrna fleet of fifty-six merchant vessels returning home from the Mediterranean with rich cargoes of silks, plate, cochineal, gums, &c., estimated to be worth over a million pounds. It was upon this fleet that Charles had been counting. Eleven States’ men-of-war acted as convoy to the merchantmen, many of which were also heavily armed as fighting ships. To deal with this formidable force Holmes at first had only five ships, having failed to effect a junction with Spragge’s squadron, from the selfish design, it was alleged, of keeping the prize-money among as few as possible. The Dutch fleet, which had been warned of their danger by Boreel, were on the alert. On the approach of the English the armed vessels moved into line to protect the defenceless merchantmen. Lord Ossory, in the Resolution, bore up to the Dutch vice-admiral and gave him a “warning piece” to strike his flag, 486 and as he took no notice of it, Ossory gave him another and “placed it in him.” Sir Robert Holmes, in the St Michael, treated Captain Adrian de Haas, who commanded the convoy, in the same way, and when the latter sent his lieutenant on board the St Michael to ascertain the cause of shooting, he was promptly clapped into the hold, “having, it seems,” as the English official account says, “given some saucy language to Sir Robert.”890 The St Michael then poured in a broadside and the fight began. It continued until night, and was resumed on the following day, when Holmes was reinforced by three other ships, and on the day after that, as the Dutch fleet made its way up the Channel, defending itself with the greatest valour. The English were hopelessly outnumbered. They sank one Dutch man-of-war and captured another, with four or five of the merchant vessels, but all the others safely reached port. The English ships which were beaten off were so terribly battered and cut up that they could scarcely make their way back to the Downs. On the St Michael alone thirty-four men were killed and fifty-six wounded, as well as “a great many” missing.

Charles was deeply disappointed at losing the booty on which he had calculated. He was further annoyed when he found he could not confiscate the whole of the cargoes actually taken, and which Holmes with vainglorious exaggeration boasted “would give him credit for ￡200,000 at least.” When the question came to be decided whether the captured ships were lawfully good prize, Holmes and his officers showed the greatest reluctance to be examined. Included in the cargoes were goods belonging to Spaniards and subjects of other nations, but notwithstanding this the Council wished to confiscate everything. Sir Leoline Jenkins, Judge of the High Court of Admiralty, opposed this design with great energy. The confiscation of Dutch ships and property in time of peace might be colourably made under the pretence that the owners refused to strike their flag and were the aggressors. But to condemn neutral goods on board as lawful prize would be, Sir Leoline said, to introduce “a new law of war, not so honourable for us to endure from others when 487 his Majesty shall be at peace and his neighbours at war.” He declared that no hostile act of the Dutch, supposing them the aggressors, could involve a stranger not party to it, before a public declaration of war; and as he threatened to resign his office if the course was persisted in, the Council gave way, and restitution was made of the property of neutrals.891

The iniquity of this shameful and deliberate attack on Dutch shipping in time of peace was not extenuated or obscured by the plea of the English Ministry that it had been caused by the obstinacy of the Dutch in refusing to strike the flag. The opinion of Europe was expressed in the remark of a French diplomatist at one of the German Courts, that “when the king, his master, made war on the States-General, he would not do so like a pirate.” An immediate result of the onslaught on the Smyrna fleet was to convince not only the States-General, but the French Court, that Charles was in earnest, and the formal declaration of war could not be longer delayed. On 17th March 1672, the day after Churchill brought the tidings to London, an Order in Council was issued to print and publish the declaration of war against the States-General. In this long, verbose, and rhetorical document of eight pages Charles tried hard to justify his flagrant violation of treaties. The real reason of the war could not be avowed, but every complaint that had at any time been levelled against the Dutch was now dragged forth, accusation being piled on accusation. The accumulated charges connected with the East Indies, the West Indies, and Surinam were revived and aggravated; the safety of trade, upon which the wealth and prosperity of the English people depended, was in danger; the king and nation were declared to have been insulted by lampoons and caricatures. But, as was to be expected from the antecedents, a principal ground of rupture was found in the flouting by the Dutch of the right of England to the honour of the flag and the sovereignty of the sea. “The right of the flag,” the king declared, “is so ancient that it was one of the first prerogatives of our royal predecessors, and ought to be the last from which this kingdom should ever depart. It was never questioned, and it was 488 expressly acknowledged in the treaty of Breda; and yet this last summer it was not only violated by their commanders at sea, and that violation afterwards justified at The Hague, but it was also represented by them in most Courts of Christendom as ridiculous for us to demand. An ungrateful insolence! That they should contend with us about the dominion of these seas, who, even in the reign of our royal father, thought it an obligation to be permitted to fish in them, by taking of licenses and for a tribute.” Notwithstanding all these provocations, the king continued, he had patiently waited expecting satisfaction. To the memorials sent to them they had at last replied to this effect: “That in this conjuncture they would condescend to strike to us, if we would assist them against the French; but upon condition that it should never be taken for a precedent hereafter to their prejudice.” The concluding negotiations were mendaciously summarised by saying that after the return of Downing the States-General sent over an extraordinary ambassador, who declared he could give no satisfaction till he had consulted his masters. “Wherefore,” said the king, “despairing now of any good effect of further treaty, we are compelled to take up arms in defence of an ancient prerogative of our crown, and the glory and safety of our kingdoms.”

Louis’ declaration of war, of fewer words and greater dignity, followed; arrangements were completed for the union of the English and French fleets, and no difficulty was made about the salute. Charles, while taking so high and imperial a tone in the declaration of war about the ancient and sacred rights of the English flag, immediately relinquished them to his royal ally and paymaster. For the first time in history the French fleet was put on an equality with the English in the British seas. Orders were issued that if an English squadron under a vice-admiral was sent to the Mediterranean to be commanded by a French admiral, the latter was to be saluted in the same manner as he was saluted by French vice-admirals. When an English frigate was sent to Brest with a despatch for the Comte d’Estrées, the Vice-Admiral of France, it was ordered if it met the French squadron appointed to join the English fleet to salute them as if they were English ships, and to treat the French Vice-Admiral as if he were English. Charles sent similar commands to the Governors of Portsmouth, Dartmouth, 489 Dover, and other places—that the French ships were to be saluted as if they were English. Thus not only in the Mediterranean, but in the Channel and in English ports, the English flag was to be lowered to that of France—a proposition that might have made the old sea-dogs turn in their graves.892

The junction of the allied fleets was followed, on 28th May, by the fierce and sanguinary battle of Solebay. The victory was indecisive, but the advantage lay rather with the Dutch. De Ruyter withdrew to his own coast, and the English were too much crippled to follow.893 No other great sea-fight took place in 1672, but in September Sir Edward Spragge employed his squadron against the Dutch fishermen. Just before the declaration of war the States-General laid an embargo on their fishing vessels; but they removed it in September,894 and towards the end of the month it was reported that a hundred Dutch busses, convoyed by twenty frigates, were fishing off the Norfolk coast. On the 22nd Spragge’s squadron, showing no colours, appeared off Yarmouth, and greatly frightened the English herring fishermen, who thought the Dutch fleet was upon them. By noon on the 24th he had captured eleven Dutch doggers and 117 prisoners; two of the doggers had licenses from the English Government, and were released later. By the end of the month the prizes numbered about thirty doggers, one buss, and a privateer, with over 300 prisoners,—not a very large haul,—while about 200 others had been chased home, and many nets, which the fishermen had cut and left in the water, were destroyed. Spragge having thus, as he reported, “cleared these seas of fishermen except our own,” returned to the Thames.895

While the Dutch maintained the contest at sea with honour and success, they were overwhelmed on land. A great French army, under Turenne, Condé, and other celebrated generals of 490 the age, poured into the Provinces. Town after town, fortress after fortress, surrendered to the invaders, and the Prince of Orange, with the remnant of his small army, retired into Holland. It seemed inevitable that the Republic, contending with the two most powerful states in Europe and bereft of allies,—for Sweden as well as England had been detached from the triple league,—would soon be subjugated. The States-General, in despair, sued for peace. Two ambassadors were sent to Louis and two to Charles. Louis offered them impossible terms, and allowed ten days for acceptance or rejection. Charles refused to see them at all, but sent them to Hampton Court along with Boreel, who had not yet left England; and there they remained for some weeks carrying on a sort of backstairs negotiation. Then the king, fearing they might intrigue with his own subjects, who were in sympathy with them, dismissed them early in August. But becoming apprehensive at the unexpected rapidity of the French conquests, he despatched the Duke of Buckingham and Lord Arlington, and soon also Viscount Halifax, to negotiate anew with Louis, and to inform him of the overtures for peace from the States-General. On their way they passed through Holland, where they had several interviews with the Dutch Government and the Prince of Orange. After renewing the league with Louis at Utrecht, and agreeing that neither king should conclude peace except with the consent of the other, the conditions on which Charles was willing to make peace were formulated. The States were asked to undertake, on demand, to banish perpetually any person guilty of treason against the king, or of writing seditious libels; to pay ￡1,000,000 sterling towards the cost of the war; to invest the Prince of Orange with the sovereignty of the United Provinces, or at least to confer upon him the highest offices; and to surrender as security to the king Walcheren, the city and castle of Sluys, as well as the isles of Cadsand, Goeree, and Voorne. With regard to the sovereignty of the sea, they were to yield the honour of the flag without the least reserve or hesitation, so that whole fleets were to lower their top-sails and strike their flags to a single English ship carrying the king’s flag, in any part of the British sea up to the coasts of the United Provinces. The States-General were, moreover, to agree to pay to the King of England, for ever, the 491 sum of ￡10,000 a-year for permission which the king would grant them to fish for herrings on the coasts of England, Scotland, and Ireland.896

The demands of Louis were even more oppressive to the Dutch, and threatened them in what they held most dear—their religious liberty, for the sake of which they had formerly fought so long and so heroically against the tyranny of Spain.

In this crisis of their history despair and fury seized upon the people. The Ministers were blamed for the misfortunes of the country; a popular tumult burst forth in favour of the Prince of Orange; and John de Witt, the clear-eyed statesman who had so long held the helm and steered the Republic through so many dangers and difficulties, was foully murdered in circumstances of great brutality—a fate which his brother shared. The young Prince infused his own invincible spirit into the people. The terms of peace were rejected, and a supreme effort was made to save the country by the method which had been adopted against Alva and Requesens just a century before: the dykes were opened and the land laid under water, causing the enemy to retreat. The steadfast 492 courage of the Prince of Orange and the growing alarm at the designs of France at last brought allies to the States. Spain and both branches of the house of Austria espoused their cause, and German troops came marching to the Rhine.

But the ally on which the Dutch most relied was the Parliament of England. It had now been prorogued for nearly two years, and Charles was at last forced to summon it by his need of money to carry on the war. When it met, the members were told by the king that he had been forced into a war which was just and necessary both for the honour and the interest of the nation, and he referred them to his declaration, in which the reasons were given. He also defended the Declaration of Indulgence to dissenters, which had been designed to favour the Roman Catholics, and about which the country was greatly agitated. The Earl of Shaftesbury, as Chancellor, enlarged on the same themes. Against the Dutch he levelled such charges as were contained in the declaration of war. They had broken treaties about the East Indies and Surinam, “and at last,” he exclaimed, “they came to that height of insolence, as to deny the honour and right of the flag, though an undoubted jewel of this crown, never to be parted with; and by them particularly owned in the late treaty of Breda and never contested in any age.” He accused them of disputing the king’s title to it in all the Courts of Christendom, and of having made great offers to the King of France if he would stand by them against England. They were branded as the common enemy to all monarchies, and especially to that of England, “their only competitor for trade and power at sea,” who alone stood in their way to a universal empire as great as Rome. They had, he said, slighted all negotiations and refused all cessation of hostilities; and the king, he claimed, in entering on the war had only carried out the maxims of the Parliament which had advised the last war, and had then judged it necessary to extirpate the Dutch, laying it down as an eternal maxim, “delenda est Carthago, that government is to be brought down.” The Parliament was then asked to vote further supplies.

At first, while avoiding the least approbation of the war, Parliament passed a resolution that they would grant eighteen 493 months’ assessments, at the rate of ￡70,000 a-month, for the king’s “extraordinary occasions”; but this was designed merely to allow them time to deal with the Declaration of Indulgence before Charles could afford to dismiss them. The contest with the king on this question ended in victory for the Parliament, which then passed the Test Act, disqualifying Catholics for all offices under the crown. The king was still resolved to pursue the war. The money voted by Parliament served to equip a fleet; and as the Duke of York was made ineligible owing to the Test Act, Prince Rupert took his place as admiral. In May 1673 the combined naval forces of France and England sought out De Ruyter on his own coast, and three battles were fought in the summer,—on 28th May, 4th June, and 11th August,—both sides claiming victory; but the Dutch prevented the projected landing of English troops, and compelled the allies to retire to their own coasts.897

By this time, however, the king saw he could not with safety continue to carry on the war much longer. Spain, which had already declared war against France, threatened to do the same against England unless peace was made, and this would destroy the lucrative English trade with that country. The war was intensely unpopular in England, and the seamen fought without heart. The timid conduct of the French squadrons in the various battles excited deep and widespread resentment. It was on all sides rumoured that Charles had sold his country in order to carry out the selfish designs of Louis. The subsidies, moreover, were soon exhausted, and it would be necessary to ask Parliament again for more money. It was clear that the appeal which Charles had made to the spirit or vanity of the nation with respect to the honour of the flag and the sovereignty of the sea had thoroughly failed, although inspired and mercenary pens did what they could to arouse enthusiasm. These efforts were indeed a measure of the unpopularity of the third Dutch war. Before it broke out certain authors had handled the theme. The learned Prynne, who lost his ears for opposing 494 Charles I., became a subservient supporter of his son; and, as Keeper of the Records in the Tower, he published an erudite, but confused, book in which the absolute right of the King of England to the dominion of the surrounding seas was maintained.898 In a very different kind of book, one Captain John Smith repeated current arguments and misstatements on the same topic, especially with reference to the fisheries, for he had been one of the agents of the Fishery Society of Charles I. He makes a statement that must have caused the king, if he saw it, some surprise at his modesty in asking only ￡10,000 or ￡12,000 from the Dutch. He had heard, he says, that the “composition” of the Hollanders for leave to fish on our coasts was an annual rent of ￡100,000 and ￡100,000 “in hand”; and as none of it had been paid into the Exchequer, he computed the arrears then to be over ￡2,500,000, a sum which, he very truly remarked,—and it is the sole truth in the statement,—“would come very happily for the present occasions of his Majesty.” Like many others before him and after him, he advocated the building of a fleet of busses and the prohibition of the Hollanders from fishing in the British seas.899 Still other writers laid stress on the close connection between the sovereignty of the sea and trade, commerce, and navigation;900 and after the war broke out more pointed attacks were made against the Dutch. They were accused of invading our fisheries without license from the king, refusing to strike sail, disputing our dominion of the seas, and by artifice supplanting us in trade and commerce.901

None of those works was of much account, and the Ministry felt the need of obtaining the services of an able wri............