At the MP Evans AGM last week a Dutch friend reminded me of an anniversary. The Battle of the Medway took place 350 years ago this week. The Dutch navy broke through a protective barrier (the Gillingham Line, as impregnable as the Maginot Line) and attacked naval ships anchored off Chatham.
It was a daring and wholly successful raid that could have come from the pages of Patrick O’Brian or CS Forester. However, it was not a conventional naval engagement. England had been weakened in 1665 by the Great Plague in which a fifth of London’s population perished. The following year there was the devastating Great Fire and concurrently during these two years England was at war with the Dutch. The war was mainly for supremacy over trade routes. By 1667 the money had run out, peace negotiations were underway and the fleet at Chatham was moth-balled. Wikipedia looks at the raid through Pepys’s eyes and it’s worth reading in full.
The diary of Samuel Pepys, as secretary of the Navy Board, is very often cited in descriptions of the raid, as it gives us direct information about the attitude of the policy makers in this period and of the psychological impact of the attack.
Pepys at first seems to accept the consensus that the Dutch would not dare to launch an expedition against the London area; still on 18 April he writes: “(…)then to the office, where the news is strong that not only the Dutch cannot set out a fleete this year, but that the French will not, and that he [ Louis XIV ] hath given the answer to the Dutch Embassador, saying that he is for the King of England’s having an honourable peace, which, if true, is the best news we have had a good while.” At that moment De Ruyter had already been on De Zeven Provinciën for a week. Nevertheless, he is aware of the preparations at Chatham, writing on 23 March: “At the office all the morning, where Sir W. Pen (sic) come, being returned from Chatham, from considering the means of fortifying the river Medway, by a chain at the stakes, and ships laid there with guns to keep the enemy from coming up to burn our ships; all our care now being to fortify ourselves against their invading us.” Also he is the next day present at the meeting where the details are given: “All their care they now take is to fortify themselves, and are not ashamed of it: for when by and by my Lord Arlington come in with letters, and seeing the King and Duke of York give us and the officers of the Ordnance directions in this matter, he did move that we might do it as privately as we could, that it might not come into the Dutch Gazette presently, as the King’s and Duke of York’s going down the other day to Sheerenesse was, the week after, in the Harlem Gazette. The King and Duke of York both laughed at it, and made no matter, but said, ‘Let us be safe, and let them talk, for there is nothing will trouble them more, nor will prevent their coming more, than to hear that we are fortifying ourselves’.”
Only on 3 June does Pepys become aware that the Dutch are out in force: “the Dutch are known to be abroad with eighty sail of ships of war, and twenty fire-ships; and the French come into the Channell with twenty sail of men-of-war, and five fireships, while we have not a ship at sea to do them any hurt with; but are calling in all we can, while our Embassadors are treating at Bredah; and the Dutch look upon them as come to beg peace, and use them accordingly; and all this through the negligence of our Prince, who hath power, if he would, to master all these with the money and men that he hath had the command of, and may now have, if he would mind his business.”
Not until 10 June does Pepys understand that the Thames is the target: “News brought us that, the Dutch are come up as high as the Nore; and more pressing orders for fireships.” The next day a growing sense of panic becomes apparent: “Up, and more letters still from Sir W. Coventry about more fire-ships, and so Sir W. Batten and I to the office, where Bruncker come to us, who is just now going to Chatham upon a desire of Commissioner Pett’s, who is in a very fearful stink for fear of the Dutch, and desires help for God and the King and kingdom’s sake. So Bruncker goes down, and Sir J. Minnes also, from Gravesend. This morning Pett writes us word that Sheernesse is lost last night, after two or three hours’ dispute. The enemy hath possessed himself of that place; which is very sad, and puts us into great fears of Chatham.” In the morning of the 12th he is reassured by the measures taken by Monck: “(…)met Sir W. Coventry’s boy; and there in his letter find that the Dutch had made no motion since their taking Sheernesse; and the Duke of Albemarle writes that all is safe as to the great ships against any assault, the boom and chaine being so fortified; which put my heart into great joy.” Soon, however, this confidence is shattered: “(…)his clerk, Powell, do tell me that ill newes is come to Court of the Dutch breaking the Chaine at Chatham; which struck me to the heart. And to White Hall to hear the truth of it; and there, going up the back-stairs, I did hear some lacquies speaking of sad newes come to Court, saying, that hardly anybody in the Court but do look as if he cried(…).”
Pepys immediately draws the conclusion that this will mean the end of Charles’s regime and that a revolution is inevitable: “All our hearts do now ake; for the newes is true, that the Dutch have broke the chaine and burned our ships, and particularly “The Royal Charles”, other particulars I know not, but most sad to be sure. And, the truth is, I do fear so much that the whole kingdom is undone, that I do this night resolve to study with my father and wife what to do with the little that I have in money by me(…).
On the 13th, the countermeasures proposed only increase his fears and make him decide to take his family and capital to safety: “No sooner up but hear the sad newes confirmed of the Royall Charles being taken by them, and now in fitting by them – which Pett should have carried up higher by our several orders, and deserves, therefore, to be hanged for not doing it – and turning several others; and that another fleete is come up into the Hope. Upon which newes the King and Duke of York have been below [London Bridge] since four o’clock in the morning, to command the sinking of ships at Barking-Creeke, and other places, to stop their coming up higher: which put me into such a fear, that I presently resolved of my father’s and wife’s going into the country; and, at two hours’ warning, they did go by the coach this day, with about £1300 in gold in their night-bag.” The entire city is in a state of panic: “(…)never were people so dejected as they are in the City all over at this day; and do talk most loudly, even treason; as, that we are bought and sold — that we are betrayed by the Papists, and others, about the King; cry out that the office of the Ordnance hath been so backward as no powder to have been at Chatham nor Upnor Castle till such a time, and the carriages all broken; that Legg is a Papist; that Upnor, the old good castle built by Queen Elizabeth, should be lately slighted; that the ships at Chatham should not be carried up higher. They look upon us as lost, and remove their families and rich goods in the City; and do think verily that the French, being come down with his army to Dunkirke, it is to invade us, and that we shall be invaded.” Then even worse news is brought: “Late at night comes Mr. Hudson, the cooper, my neighbour, and tells me that he come from Chatham this evening at five o’clock, and saw this afternoon “The Royal James,” “Oake,” and “London,” burnt by the enemy with their fire-ships: that two or three men-of-war come up with them, and made no more of Upnor Castle’s shooting, than of a fly(…).”
On the 14th more details become known of the events the previous day, showing the morale of the sailors: “[he] did hear many Englishmen aboard the Dutch ships speaking to one another in English, and that they did cry and say: We did heretofore fight for tickets; now we fight for dollars! and did ask how such and such a one did, and would commend themselves to them: which is a sad consideration”, and the mood of the people towards Charles “they did in open streets yesterday at Westminster, cry, ‘A Parliament! a Parliament!’; and I do believe it will cost blood to answer for these miscarriages.”
Or, more succinctly, another Great British cock-up.