The persistent disorder at sea enabled a growing number of men to earn renown or notoriety, or a mix of both, as pirates. The activities of Strangeways, one of the most notorious pirate captains operating during these years, to some extent mirrors the development of piracy, while demonstrating the challenge it presented to the mid-Tudor monarchy. In 1549 Strangeways, who probably came from Dorset, was one of Thompson’s company at Cork. By 1553 he was known to the council as the ‘Irish pirate’, though he operated on either side of the Irish Sea, plundering vessels and disposing of their cargoes locally.70 He fled to France to avoid arrest, but in March 1554 he returned with two vessels laden with munitions and mail shirts, arriving at court in search of a pardon from the Queen. After a short spell of imprisonment, during which his portrait was evidently painted by a fellow prisoner, the German artist Gerlach Flicke, he was released, allegedly through purchasing the favours of one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting. Undeterred, he resumed his piratical activities, provoking Spanish complaints and claims in the High Court of Admiralty. He seems to have established contact with leading figures among the rebel rovers in France, though it is possible that he was acting as an informer. In March 1556 Thomas White recounted the troubling experiences of the Tremaynes, who were arrested for piracy and accused by Strangeways of being involved in a conspiracy against the Queen. Despite ‘being but little men in person’, White reported that they reviled Strangeways so convincingly, and in the face of either the threat or use of torture, that he ‘was ready to weep and think he had accused them wrongfully’.71 The Tremaynes were released, and Strangeways was roundly rebuked by the council. By the later 1550s the pirate captain was in straitened circumstances. Following an Admiralty case of 1557, involving Spanish claims of £4,000, he served as one of the captains of the vessels assembled at Portsmouth for service in the Channel. The following year he was living in Dorchester, apparently poor and in great debt, though he was planning an expedition to seize the Portuguese fort at Elmina in Guinea, with the backing of a group of London merchants and the Lord Admiral.72
Strangeways’s volatile career encapsulates the changing character of English depredation, which laid the groundwork for the emergence of more ambitious and far-reaching schemes for plunder during the 1560s and beyond. The survival of other members of his company reinforced the link between succeeding generations of pirates. In September 1559, when Strangeways was arraigned at Southwark, his accomplices included William Cheston, described as an old pirate, who had served with Coole, Thompson and Stephenson.73 At a time of severe social and economic tension, the careers of such men suggest that the attraction of piracy and sea roving was growing, particularly among seafaring communities. With the benefit of favourable attitudes ashore, the rapid growth of hostility towards Spain during the 1550s, reinforced by commercial grievances among merchants in the south-west and London, laid out the prospect of piracy becoming a patriotic, popular and profitable enterprise.
Notes
1. APC 1547–50, pp. 130–1, 254; Rodger, Safeguard of the Sea, p. 195.
2. APC 1547–50, p. 155.
3. APC 1547–50, p. 131.
4. APC 1547–50, pp. 363–4, 448, 465, 467–8, 489; CSPD Edward, p. 45; Oppenheim, Administration, pp. 101–8.
5. CSPD Edward, pp. 59–61.
6. CSPD Edward, p. 59.
7. CSPD Edward, p. 60.
8. M.J.G. Stanford, ‘The Raleghs take to the Sea’, MM, 48 (1962), pp. 22–4; J. Youings (ed.), Raleigh in Exeter 1985: Privateering and Colonisation in the Reign of Elizabeth I (Exeter, 1985), pp. 94–5.
9. Calendar, pp. 7–8; Tudor Proclamations, I, pp. 444–5; CSPI 1509–73, p. 90; Stanford, ‘Raleghs take to the Sea’, pp. 24–5. According to a report of September 1549 at least 300 ships were taken, Byrne (ed.), Lisle Letters, I, p. 696.
10. Calendar, pp. 6–7; CPR 1549–51, pp. 296–8. For the Flemish response see also B.L. Beer and S.M. Jack (eds.), ‘The Letters of William, Lord Paget of Beaudesert, 1547–63’, Camden Miscellany XXV (Camden Society, Fourth Series, 13, 1974), pp. 42–3, 49, 68.
11. Calendar, p. 11; HCA 13/5, ff. 248–50; HCA 1/34, ff. 73–4, 80–1.
12. Calendar, p. 5.
13. CSPI 1509–73, pp. 80, 86; SP 61/1/29.
14. CSPI 1509–73, p. 81.
15. CSPI 1509–73, pp. 80, 83, 86–7, 90, 99–100.
16. CSPI 1509–73, pp. 92, 96, 100; HCA 1/34, ff. 19–22; Tudor Proclamations, I, p. 438. According to a report of April 1549, ‘a horde of pirates some 20 sail strong, composed of lawless men of all nations’ were ranging the coast of Ireland, CSPF 1547–53, p. 31.
17. CSPI 1509–73, pp. 100, 103.
18. CSPI 1509–73, pp. 92, 100, 107.
19. CSPI 1509–73, pp. 83, 105; CSPD Edward, p. 151.
20. APC 1547–50, p. 253; L.B. Smith, Treason in Tudor England: Politics and Paranoia (London, 1986), pp. 27–8.
21. APC 1547–50, pp. 253–4
22. APC 1550–52, pp. 29, 31, 53, 98, 112–3, 157.
23. APC 1550–52, pp. 79, 113, 148–9, 233, 354, 442, 467; Tudor Proclamations, I, p. 497.
24. APC 1550–52, pp. 149–50, 197.
25. APC 1550–52, pp. 369, 464; APC 1552–54, pp. 8, 10, 22, 76, 254–5 for the rest of the paragraph. D. Loades, England’s Maritime Empire: Seapower, Commerce and Policy 1490–1690 (Harlow, 2000), p. 63.
26. APC 1550–52, pp. 370–1, 377, 467; APC 1552–54, pp. 57–8, 81, 174, 197, 273. J.G. Nichols (ed.), The Diary of Henry Machyn, Citizen and Merchant–Taylor of London (Camden Society, 42, 1848), p. 25 for the Bark Aucher.
27. Calendar, pp. 13–4; Select Pleas, II, pp. 99–100.
28. Calendar, pp. 13–4; CSPF 1553–58, p. 231.
29. Nichols (ed.), Diary, p. 4.
30. CSPD Edward, pp. 254, 283, 293.
31. APC 1554–56, pp. 52, 55–6, 58, 60–1, 100–4, 109, 126–7.
32. APC 1554–56, p. 151.
33. APC 1554–56, pp. 168, 183–4, 215; Oppenheim, Administration, pp. 110–4.
34. CSPD Mary, pp. 31, 40–1.
35. CSPD Mary, pp. 40–1 and for the rest of the paragraph.
36. D.M. Loades, Two Tudor Conspiracies (Cambridge, 1965), pp. 21–40; CSPD Mary, pp. 21, 40, 163–4.
37. Loades, Tudor Conspiracies, pp. 161–3, 165, 204; Rowse, Tudor Cornwall, pp. 317–9.
38. CSPD Mary, pp. 157, 159, 187. They were proclaimed traitors in April 1556, Tudor Proclamations, II, pp. 64–7.
39. CSPD Mary, p. 235; Loades, Tudor Navy, pp. 164–5.
40. CSPD Mary, p. 235. Though one of Killigrew’s company claimed that he was forced to serve, Ibid., p. 236.
41. CSPD Mary, p. 224.
42. APC 1552–54, pp. 230, 236, 417–8; APC 1554–56, p. 52.
43. CSPD Mary, pp. 232–4.
44. Loades, Tudor Conspiracies, pp. 162–5; CSPD Mary, p. 235.
45. CSPD Mary, p. 236.
46. Loades, Tudor Conspiracies, p. 233; CSPF 1547–53, pp. 242, 245.
47. APC 1554–56, pp. 227–8, 236, 282, 288, 290, 294, 307–8.
48. APC 1554–56, pp. 308–9.
49. APC 1554–56, pp. 316–7, 335; Loades, Tudor Conspiracies, p. 225.
50. APC 1554–56, pp. 336, 358–9, 362–3.
51. CSPV 1534–54, p. 352.
52. Nichols (ed.), Diary, pp. 111, 131.
53. A.L. Merson (ed.), The Third Book of Remembrance of Southampton 1514–1602, 3 vols. (Southampton Record Series, 2, 3 & 8, n. s., 1952–65), II, pp. 55–6. The chain cost three shillings to make.
54. APC 1556–58, pp. 54, 65, 70.
55. Calendar, pp. 16–9. Paget’s ship also took a French vessel which seems to have been returned, Beer and Jack (eds.), ‘Letters of William, Lord Paget’, p. 121.
56. CSPD Mary, p. 279; Loades, Tudor Navy, pp. 173–4.
57. APC 1556–58, pp. 135–6, 139–40.
58. CSPD Mary, p. 282.
59. CSPD Mary, p. 283.
60. CSPD Mary, pp. 286–7.
61. APC 1556–58, pp. 291–3, 298, 319, 323; CSPD Mary, pp. 287, 298.
62. CSPD Mary, p. 286; Tudor Proclamations, II, pp. 79–82; M. Oppenheim, The Maritime History of Devon (Exeter, 1968), p. 31. By the 1550s many of the practices of Elizabethan privateering were evident, G.V. Scammell, ‘Shipowning in the Economy and Politics of Early Modern England’, The Historical Journal, 15 (1972), p. 402, reprinted in Ships, Oceans and Empire.
63. CSPD Mary, p. 355.
64. Stanford, ‘Raleghs take to the Sea’, pp. 25–7; Select Pleas, II, pp. 31–4; Williamson, Hawkins, pp. 68–9.
65. APC 1556–58, pp. 126–7, 135–6, 140–1, 212, 214, 221.
66. APC 1556–58, pp. 268–9, 291–3, 298, 319, 323.
67. CSPD Mary, p. 343.
68. APC 1556–58, pp. 279–80, 300, 320, 340, 385.
69. Stanford, ‘Raleghs take to the Sea’, pp. 28–9.
70. CSPI 1509–73, p. 100; APC 1552–54, pp. 203, 222, 236, 245; Select Pleas, II, pp. 84–6, 109–10.
71. F.J. Levy, ‘The Strange Life and Death of Captain Henry Stranguishe’, MM, 48 (1962), pp. 133–7; CSPD Mary, pp. 163–4, 179; CPR 1553–54, p. 412; CSPF 1547–53, p. 242; J.G. Nichols (ed.), The Chronicle of Queen Jane, and of the Two Years of Queen Mary (Camden Society, 48, 1850), p. 68; Williamson, Hawkins, p. 50. On the portrait see National Portrait Gallery Collection, 6353, www.npg.org/live/search/a–z
72. Levy, ‘Strange Life and Death’, p. 135.
73. HCA 1/38, f. 95v.
3
Pirates, Privateers and Slave Traders from the later 1550s to the later 1560s
English depredation grew more varied and wide-ranging during the opening decade of the Elizabethan regime. Small-scale, sporadic spoil remained a problem within the waters of the British Isles, but it was accompanied by the development of more purposeful and systematic piracy and sea roving. The activities of English raiders provoked widespread complaint from Spain and Portugal, as well as from France and the Low Countries, but they were not the only threat to peaceful commerce in north-west Europe. A wide range of maritime predators, of varied backgrounds, operated during these years, creating opportunities for cooperation and competition among unruly groups of pirates and privateers that rival monarchies struggled either to repress or re-direct against their enemies. The disorder at sea was reinforced by international rivalries, civil wars and rebellion. The outbreak of the French wars of religion, followed by the Dutch revolt against the Spanish monarchy, led to inflammatory political and religious conflicts which intensified maritime lawlessness and violence, particularly as rebel leaders in the Low Countries and France issued commissions, justifying the plunder of their enemies. The confusion between religious hostility and pre-existing commercial rivalries served as a driving force for the striking expansion of piracy and privateering along the coasts of Spain and Portugal. During the 1560s this was accompanied by the aggressive development of English trade with Guinea, linked with speculative schemes for breaking into the transatlantic slave trade. Though supported by the Queen and leading courtiers, these ventures were inherently predatory. From the perspective of the Portuguese and Spanish, indeed, they were an alarming, piratical challenge to vulnerable commercial and imperial interests. The relationship between commercial grievances and political and religious enmities thus created the conditions for a dramatic shift in the range of English depredation that laid the basis for the emergence of transatlantic armed trade and plunder during the 1560s and early 1570s.
Piracy and plunder around the British Isles during the later 1550s and early 1560s
The new Queen inherited an unpopular and unsuccessful war with France which was marked by widespread disorder and illegal plunder at sea. The restoration of peace in 1559 failed to ease Anglo-French tension, or to prevent the outbreak of another brief conflict during 1562. In these circumstances disorderly plunder and piracy threatened to become a serious problem, though initially it remained concentrated in the Channel, and focused on the spoil of French trade and shipping. But the Elizabethan regime was soon faced with the danger of the spread of unruly privateering and piracy. English men-of-war continued to seize neutral vessels, despite the risk of retaliation. During 1558 a ship of Hamburg was captured and taken to Ireland. Attacks on Flemish vessels provoked complaints in December about injustice and delay in the High Court of Admiralty. In January 1559 Philip II expressed outrage at the plunder of Flemish ships which carried his safe conduct, complaining to his ambassador in London that ‘although the Queen and council are well aware of the justice of the case no retribution can be obtained’.1 The problem of English depredation thus cast a shadow over relations between the new regime and its European neighbours, at a time of unsettling religious and political change.
From the outset, overseas complaints were aggravated by uncertainty concerning the recovery of pirate booty, which damaged the international reputation of the High Court of Admiralty. Scottish merchants, who claimed losses of £2,300 to local pirates operating along the coast of Northumberland in 1559, struggled for more than seven years to receive compensation awarded by the court. But piracy cases raised genuine difficulties that were not easily resolved by legal process, especially when the rights of the Lord Admiral were involved. The uncertainty and confusion in the application of the law were reflected in the opinion of the civil lawyers who were consulted about the ownership of property taken by pirates, following the seizure of Strangeways and his company during 1559. While noting that the captors of the pirates ‘had the greater part of their prizes’, they acknowledged that goods ‘taken by pirates can be lawfully claimed by the owners’.2 The potential contradiction between competing claims to pirate property, in which the Lord Admiral also had an interest, complicated the recovery and restoration of plundered cargoes, irrespective of the related issue of compensation. This provoked anger and concern among the victims of piracy and disorderly depredation, fuelling suspicions about the connivance of powerful vested interests which undermined respect for legal process. At the same time it threatened to taint the Queen and the court with unseemly allegations about their secret support for pirates and rovers.
The capture of Strangeways was an unexpected success for the new regime, which gave it an opportunity to demonstrate its resolve in dealing with piracy and lawlessness at sea. But the survival of this notorious rover, who was widely known among the Spanish and French as either Enrriex Tranguaz or Estranguitz, exposed a long-standing ambiguity in the handling of the problem. Despite his apparent abandonment of piracy, in April 1559 the Privy Council instructed customs officials in Southampton and Plymouth to prevent Strangeways and an associate, William Wilford, from leaving port, as a result of alarming reports that they intended to raid Madeira with a force of two vessels and 500 soldiers, which apparently included fifty gentlemen. Following a declaration before the council that they intended to go to sea as merchants, Strangeways and Wilford were allowed to proceed on their voyage.3 Once in the Channel, however, Strangeways seized several Portuguese and Spanish vessels. By July he was reported to have visited Fécamp in Normandy, despite assurances from the French that he would be arrested if he entered their jurisdiction. The English ambassador in Paris, Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, warned the Queen that the French ‘will use all the practices they can to make Stranguyse, the pirate, wholly theirs, to be an instrument to impeach her; it would, therefore,’ he added, ‘be good policy to serve herself by him covertly’.4
The regime responded rapidly to Strangeways’ return to piracy. In August 1559 the King of Spain was informed that Elizabeth had sent out six ships in search of him, with a warning that ‘if it cost her ten thousand pounds she would get hold of him and have him executed, as he had been captured on previous occasions but had been pardoned through the bought favour of her sister’s chamber-women’.5 However, the same report also claimed that the fleet was despatched by the Lord Admiral with the primary purpose of enriching himself from the pirate’s booty which was reputedly between 50,000 and 60,000 d
ucats in value.
Although Strangeways was taken by the fleet off La Rochelle during August, he evaded execution. According to the diary of the London draper Henry Machyn, he was brought to the Tower on 10 August. Several days later he was transferred to the Marshalsea, together with eighty members of his company, in preparation for their trial. They were paraded through the streets of London shackled with fetters, like a band of penitents. The following month Strangeways and seven of his company were arraigned at Southwark and sentenced to be hanged; the rest of the pirates were to be sent to the galleys. Early in October Sir William Cecil, the Queen’s secretary, informed Throckmorton of the sentence, although the latter had urged the Queen to delay the execution. While Strangeways and his men awaited punishment, two new pairs of gallows were constructed at Wapping. On the day of execution, however, the pirates were reprieved. Later in the month, the Queen issued a warrant for the release of Strangeways, ‘in order to judge of his conduct before his pardon is finally given to him’.6
Thereafter Strangeways was given the opportunity to earn redemption through royal service. In January 1560 the French ambassador in England reported that the former pirate, who, he warned, possessed information of the harbours and landing places in Normandy acquired from a French prisoner in the Tower, had been placed in command of one of the Queen’s ships. At a time when Elizabeth was prepared to instruct one of her Admirals, in December 1559, to ‘pick a quarrel with the French fleet’ in Scotland, while publicly maintaining peace with France, there was ample scope for the use of a man of Strangeways’ experience and ability.7 When Elizabeth subsequently intervened in the first war of religion in France during 1562, in an attempt to recover Calais, Strangeways served in command of a royal vessel with a company of seventy men, though during the course of the conflict he was wounded and died at Rouen.
There was nothing new in the employment of pirates in public service, but as an expedient it failed to discourage the growth of disorder at sea. The difficulties in dealing with the problem were underlined by the arrest of Jamey Fobbe and other English and Scottish pirates in Cornwall during December 1559. Although the pirates were imprisoned in Launceston Gaol, an Admiralty officer later reported that Fobbe was released, because no action was brought against him. During the 1560s, therefore, English depredation continued to flourish, becoming more diverse in structure, organization and range. While the selection of targets was often indiscriminate, there was a marked increase in the plunder of Flemish trading and fishing vessels, which was accompanied by the spoil of richer Spanish ships trading between Spain and the Low Countries.8
Under the Bloody Flag Page 11
