On 23 July 2019, the territorial waters of the Bailiwick of Guernsey (Guernsey, Alderney and Sark) were increased from 3 to 12 nautical miles (‘nm’). This unilateral decision taken by the Bailiwick of Guernsey1 came after the United Kingdom extended its territorial waters from 3 to 12nm in 1987, the Isle of Man in 1991 and Jersey in 1997. However, the maritime boundaries between the Bailiwick of Guernsey and France are still to be agreed. Indeed, the lines to the south-west and east of the Bailiwick were defined in the 1992 Schole Bank Agreement, but only for fishing purposes.

This decision is linked to the potential impact of Brexit on fishing for the Channel Islands, in order for the Bailiwick to be able to control and monitor fishing in its surrounding seas more efficiently than if they were not territorial waters. It does not only imply opening negotiations with France regarding the maritime boundaries between Normandy, Brittany and the Bailiwick, but also raises questions as to free navigation between the Islands of the Bailiwick, more particularly by French navy ships.

On Jersey's side, things are not necessarily simpler, but they were at least agreed between the Bailiwick of Jersey and France. In 2004, the Bay of Granville Treaty between France and the United Kingdom (4 July 2000) entered into force to:

• (i) define the maritime boundaries between Jersey and France, and

• (ii) set the fishing rights of French and Jersey (but also Guernsey …) fishermen.

It should be noted however that the treaty maintains a disconnection between territorial waters and the definition of fishing zones. The 2000 treaty is the latest in a long history of negotiations between Jersey and France regarding fishing rights in the Bay of Granville. It came back to the ‘oyster war’ that occurred at the beginning of the 19th century, which will be discussed later.

These two very recent examples show the complexity and fragmentation of the sea for economic and political reasons. It also demonstrates the complexity of dividing the sea in the Channel Islands area, given the particularities of the Islands’ status in international law.

Thirty kilometres off the Cotentin Peninsula, the Channel Islands are the closest British territory to the French coast. Because of this, and as also indicated by their compound French name − Les Îles Anglo-Normandes − they are an integral part of the history of the Channel as a ‘mer pour deux royaumes’ − a ‘sea shared by two kingdoms’ − the term coined by Renaud Morieux to describe this stretch of sea, now a border between France and Great Britain. For André Lespagnol, they ‘have been heavily involved for centuries in the everyday life of this part of the French Atlantic seaboard’. They have also long been a source of concern for the French navy. Island strongholds, they represent a threat to Cherbourg, the town whose dockyards were nevertheless chosen for the construction of a fleet intended to rival that of the Royal Navy.

But in the early years of the twentieth century, the Channel Islands’ geostrategic worth decreased significantly. For the British, worried by German sea power, the islands were losing their importance in favour of bases in the North Sea. For the French, the Entente Cordiale seemed to remove the danger of an attack from Britain. So, for both countries the Channel was a sea at peace in 1914. Should conflict break out and an alliance be formed between the two countries, it would even be a central part of their shared military strategy. Events proved them right, as the Channel quickly became both a hunting ground for German submarines and a lifeline for the Franco-British war effort. A closer look at the French navy, and at the Channel Islands during the First World War, can shed new light on relations between the two navies, specifically in respect of the protection of sea routes.

Since the in-depth studies of the 1920s, little research has been carried out into the role of the French navy during the First World War, particularly in the Channel, which has long been considered a secondary theatre of operations. That early work was very much of its time: mostly designed and undertaken by military institutions, navy-centred, nationalist in outlook, mostly in written form, and largely positivist and utilitarian in style. However, the centenary of the First World War has sparked renewed interest.

Reasons for ‘harbours of refuge’

Throughout the early 1800s, Britain feared the ‘Napoleonic threat’ of invasion. The more explicit threat from France abated with the defeat of Bonaparte's armies at Waterloo in 1815 and his death in 1821 on St Helena. But latent fears of a resurgence of French naval power in the mid-1800s, emphasised by the construction of the large harbour at Cherbourg, fuelled proposals in Britain for ‘harbours of refuge’ in the English Channel, debated at length through the 1840s. The perception of this new threat drove harbour construction at Portland, Jersey (St Catherine’s) and Alderney (Braye Bay), and later at Dover where work had already started. This paper will outline the history of these harbours/breakwaters, and the extent to which they failed or succeeded.

Harbours of refuge were notionally conceived to provide shelter from storms for commercial vessels, including mail packets, fishing and general trade. Use for naval purposes was sometimes less than explicit. Most of these harbours had difficult gestations, often with repeated shortages of money, particularly for Cherbourg. At the time of their design (∼1840) most naval vessels were powered by sail. Harbours and trading practices would have adapted to the restrictions so imposed. For instance, it was very difficult for a sailing vessel to leave harbour in the face of an onshore wind. This limitation was understood in commercial operations. But even as these harbours were being developed, the propulsion (and form) of vessels changed, with greater use of steam power rather than sail, and iron (later steel) replacing wooden hulls.

A partly hidden sub-text of the ‘harbours of refuge’ debate was, however, the development of new harbours for the Royal Navy for deterrence, ie. defence. A further sub-text, less commonly discussed, was their potential use for offensive purposes. For the Channel Islands, this would essentially be to blockade or stage attacks on the major French port at Cherbourg.

Possible sites in Britain for ‘harbours of refuge’ were at Holyhead, Peterhead, Harwich, Dover, Seaford, Portland, Jersey (St Catherine’s) and Alderney (Braye Bay). Both Jersey and Alderney are close to the coast of France, seen as the major military threat.

On 7 November 1739, the British declaration of war against Spain was solemnly proclaimed on Guernsey. War had long been expected and the Lieutenant Governor, John Graham, had already been pressing the government for support. He had some success, but this had not reassured the civil authorities. In early November the States ordered Peter Cary, deputy to the States, to explain their concerns to the Secretary of State for the Southern Department, the Duke of Newcastle. From their perspective, Guernsey was hemmed in between St Malo and Cherbourg, so close to the French coast that an invasion force embarked on barques and shallops could be on the island within a few hours. All male inhabitants between the ages of sixteen and sixty, which might amount to 2,000 men, were required to turn out for the militia, but about a third of these men were likely to be employed on privateers. There were only two weak companies of regulars on the island, old soldiers known as invalids, to provide a professional backbone. A proper defence would need at least a regiment and twenty-five field cannon to prevent a landing. However, even this would not be enough. According to Cary, ‘the natural defence of all the Islands’ was effective naval support. If part of the Channel squadron were stationed at Guernsey, which had a good and safe anchorage, it would protect the island from invasion; protect British commerce; destroy French commerce and drive away their privateers. Cary reminded Newcastle of the importance of the Channel Islands. In the last wars with France (1689−98, 1702−13) they had thirty to forty privateers continually cruising along the French coast. Guernsey privateers alone employed 1,700 men (50% of whom were English, Irish and Dutch seamen). They took 1,500 prizes, including many valuable ships. They disrupted French coastal trade, and even penetrated up their rivers. They went where deep-drafted men of war could not venture. They retook prizes from the French and returned them to their owners. They brought frequent and valuable intelligence gleaned from contacts ashore and captured French documents on prizes. For example, Cary claimed that in 1703 intercepted letters, taken on a recaptured English vessel, prevented the 200 ships of the Virginia convoy from falling into the hands of a French squadron that was cruising for them.

‘On its own, the history of these communities or island republics is of only modest, local interest, whilst its significance expands and takes on a brilliant radiance under the bright light of the histories of France and of England’. So claimed the French writer and intellectual, Eugène Pégot-Ogier, who was among Victor Hugo's circle during his exile on the Channel Islands, in his lengthy Histoire des isles de la Manche of 1881. As if to confirm the truth of this observation, the contributors to the present volume have directed the spotlight of international history onto the islands and uncovered the richness of their history as it played out on the stage of centuries of nearly permanent Anglo-French rivalry. Yet, by portraying the islands as passive objects of insight and meaning in this way, Pégot-Ogier arguably underestimated the value of the history of his temporary home. Situated between the two states, not just geographically but politically, economically, and culturally, the islands are more than just supporting actors to be brought out of the shadows. They cast a certain light of their own into previously unseen corners of the stage. Paradoxically, perhaps, it is precisely because they defy easy categorisation and seem to stand aloof from familiar political trends that the history of the Channel Islands can be employed to illuminate that of their more powerful neighbours. Indeed, the very smallness, isolation, and exceptional nature of the islands, which has traditionally shielded them from the critical gaze of historians, can be usefully held up like a conceptual mirror to put even some of our most cherished expectations and common assumptions about international history to greater scrutiny. It seems certain, therefore, that the academic interest in the history of these beguiling islands which has been sparked by the chapters in this volume will continue to grow in the future, shaping our understanding, not only of the naval and political relations of France and Britain, but of the nature of the very international system in which they operated.

War is the common theme that runs throughout the entire history of these islands. This is best illustrated by the naval history offered here by Colin Partridge.

Saint-Malo and Dunkirk were mainland France's most important privateering centres, and are referred to constantly by historians in France and elsewhere in discussions of privateering. Their reputation often obscures the activity of other ports, which are unfairly left in the shadows despite having also engaged in such warfare, with varying degrees of participation and success. The Norman port of Granville is one such example. It was heavily involved in privateering throughout the Second Hundred Years War, but is rarely mentioned as one of the major privateer towns.1 Its population was small and its port cramped, but Granville's location in the Channel, along with its history, maritime wealth, naval potential and entrepreneurial spirit, encouraged its inhabitants to take up privateering. What were the driving forces behind this decision? What were the characteristics of this activity? What were the results?

Granville's cod fishing and privateering within a distinctive geopolitical context

According to tradition, Granville was founded by the English during the wars of the Middle Ages, on the west coast of what is now the Cotentin Peninsula in Normandy, when they were planning to invade France. Mont-Saint- Michel blocked their way to Brittany and hindered their progress towards the centre of the kingdom. Unable to capture it, in 1439 the English bought the almost uninhabited cliff of Cap Lihou. This rocky promontory, jutting out westwards into the sea only a few kilometres from Mont-Saint-Michel, offered an easily defendable position and a firm base for future operations. In 1440, they reinforced an enclosure on top of the cliff. To protect themselves from the possibility of the French returning, a deep trench was dug across the isthmus to the east that connected the peninsula to the mainland. Finally, they forced many in the surrounding area into the new enclosure (frontispiece). The English thereby created Granville, both as a stronghold and a town. The occupation did not last, however, and the town was taken three years later by the knights of Mont-Saint-Michel.

Thereafter, the town and its port grew in importance. Its inhabitants engaged in coastal shipping and oyster, freshwater and cod fishing. At the end of the seventeenth century, it seems its population was small. The commissioner general of fortifications, Vauban, stated in a report drawn up

Beginning in the late 1780s the strategic geography of the English Channel and Western Approaches would be fundamentally altered by the construction of large artificial harbours, extending existing ports into deep water and enhancing their security against wind and tide. While Cherbourg, Plymouth and Holyhead pre-dated steam shipping, later works at Dover, Portland and Alderney and French harbour upgrades at St Malo, Granville, Dunkirk and Calais, were influenced by the prospect that future wars in the Channel would be fought by steam ships. Steam navigation posed a particular challenge for the Channel Islands, which lacked the local capital to acquire and operate steamers, and the floating harbours needed to operate them efficiently. While some islanders tried to persuade the British Government to build such harbours, the new technology significantly reduced the Islands’ offensive strategic potential. After 1830 local naval operations would be shaped by steam, not small sailing vessels. Island privateering was no longer a significant asset, but the Islands remained critical to commanding the Channel. Their security became a national priority and required new harbours.

The Channel resumed its central place in British grand strategy after the 1814−15 Treaties of Paris and Vienna, where British diplomacy helped shape a European system to resist French expansion in Europe, while the Waterloo campaign demonstrated how the Castlereagh/Wellington diplomatic and strategic ‘System’ worked. With France constrained by the 1815 borders the only significant strategic threat it could pose to Britain would be against merchant shipping, especially at the focal point in the Channel and Western Approaches. As all French regimes between 1815 and 1870 attempted to secure domestic support by overturning the Vienna Settlement, these attempts frequently reduced Anglo-French relations to diplomatic crises and arms racing. It would be against the background of heightened tension that Britain developed a series of new naval stations to support steam warfare in the Channel, specifically to counter the emerging naval base at Cherbourg.

The Channel Islands remained a critical element in this response. In late 1830 former Prime Minister Wellington became anxious about their security, fearing a ‘Revolutionary’ French government would use war to maintain domestic credibility, encouraged by a francophile Whig administration that deliberately weakened links with Austria, Prussia and Russia, which had hitherto restrained France, and secured Britain's vital interests in Europe, keeping Belgium and the River Scheldt outside France.

Within French naval strategy between 1815 and 1906, the Channel Islands were part of France's global rivalry with London. Several elements of this strategy and the interactions between them merit consideration. France is an amphibious nation. Both continental and maritime, it has faced numerous landand sea-based threats, from both within Europe and overseas. The country is surrounded by sea on three sides and also has to deal with the lock that is Gibraltar. The unifications of both Italy and Germany, followed by the signing of the Triple Alliance, increased the complexity of this geostrategic challenge. France's strategy involved prioritising and identifying links among the threats posed by Germany, Britain and Italy. It was only Italy's neutrality and then the Entente Cordiale that would change matters in the early twentieth century.

This complexity could be seen in the English Channel when it came to selecting a main naval base within it. While siting the base at Dunkirk would have made it possible to block the Hochseeflotte (hereafter HSF)'s entry into the Channel from the north, as well as posing a threat to London, the port was isolated and exposed. At the western end, Brest was well protected, but it was far not only from France's industrial base but also from the British centre of gravity and the Dover Strait. Meanwhile, Cherbourg, right in the middle of the Channel, was isolated from Paris until the mid-nineteenth century and vulnerable to the Royal Navy and the HSF. This vulnerability was increased by the development of Portland and Alderney. The narrowness of the central section of the Channel meant that fluidity was limited: British bases were close, navigation difficult and the legal framework restrictive. The configuration of the waters and the coastline favoured denial of access and raids on commerce or bases. This combination of limiting factors was reinforced by the technological revolutions that came along after 1850. The debate, which mainly concerned coastal protection and commerce raiding, was arbitrated by civil society because naval policy partly escaped experts’ control owing to statements made in parliament and the press. Many actors therefore contributed to the development of naval strategy.