If a historian wished to list reasons for the growth of writing skills in England at the end of the middle Ages, piracy would likely not be rated very highly. But consider: when two galleys laden with mercantile goods sailed from Zeeland towards London in early May of 1478, they were waylaid in the English Channel by privateers allied with the Hanse. Although unwelcome, the attack would have come as no surprise. The Libelle of Englyshe Polyce, a clunky but fascinating poem from a few years earlier, complains testily about Bretons and other coastal riff-raff:

Understanding his situation only too well, the highly practical captain of one merchant vessel quickly lightened the ship by tossing much of his merchandise overboard and, like Brave Sir Robin, ‘bravely ran away’. The second captain, skippering a Florentine vessel bearing the flags and insignia of the duke of Burgundy, allowed his ship to be captured fully laden and then be escorted back to Burgundian territory. His colleague, anchoring at Southampton while leaving its remaining cargo on board, quickly notified the London home office about his adventure and about arriving in the harbour of a ‘foreign’ port.