Charles II has been unjustly blamed for what happened in Newfoundland in 1675. Historians who bother to look closely into the matter will uncover the following sequence of events.
The king orders the fishing admirals to inform the settlers that they have the choice of being relocated to other colonies or transported back to England. The convoy commander, Sir John Berry, will follow afterwards to conduct a census to determine how many settlers are still left in Newfoundland, how many houses, how many boats, etc.
The written order, however, is lost, and the admirals are left to remember it as best they can. Confusion reigns among the convoy that sails for Newfoundland that spring. From bunk to bunk, from ship to ship, men argue over which of the following two statements is the right one: (a) Those who wish to live in England or other colonies may do so; or (b) Those who wish to live may do so in England or other colonies. By the time the fleet nears Newfoundland, the captains are so addled by this syntactical conundrum that the only way they can think to solve it is to flip a coin.
Luckily, advance word that a census is to be conducted reaches the settlers, who, cryptically declaring that “no goode will come of being counted,” abandon their settlements and take to the woods.
The fishing admirals have been favouring statement b for weeks, burning and pillaging everything in sight, by the time Sir John arrives. Sir John is outraged by what they have have done, which is no less than to have made it almost impossible to conduct a proper census.
Sir John does the best he can, enumerates as many settlers as can be coaxed out of the woods. He writes back to a friend in England: “The harbours look like cemeteries, with crucifix-like masts everywhere protruding from the water.” By counting the masts, he is able to estimate how many boats there were, and is likewise able to estimate the number of houses by toting up the chimneys that remain.