Sea life in Nelson's time

by John Masefield

CHAPTER I

Ship designing, building, sheathing, and rigging—The external decorations and appearance—The internal arrangements, deck by deck—The orlop and hold

The ships in which Nelson went to sea were designed by master-shipwrights, in large sheds or studios known as “mould-lofts.” There was a mould-loft in all the royal dockyards, near the dry docks or building slips. On the floor of a mould-loft the master-shipwrights drew the plans of their ships, at the full size of the intended vessel. On the walls, which were of great height, they chalked out their side elevations, from the keel to the prospective water-line, and from the water-line to the top of the poop-railings or hammock nettings, the parts farthest from the sea when the ship was afloat. Having chalked out their plans, and “laid down” their ships to their satisfaction, they gave orders for the timber to be cut in accordance with their designs. The work of building was then begun at that royal yard to which the mould-loft was attached. The chief yards were those at Chatham, Deptford, Plymouth, and Woolwich. The smaller ships were built on slips or launches, which sloped down to the water’s edge. Large ships, or first-rates, designed to carry 100 guns, were generally built in dry dock, and floated out when completed by the admission of water.

The keel or backbone of the ship, the first wood to be placed in position, was “laid down” upon oak blocks distant some four or five feet from each other. The keel was generally of thick elm timbers, placed lengthways, which were “scarfed together,” bolted and clinched at the sides. Under this keel, and to each side of it, in some ships, was placed a false keel of elm, lightly secured by copper staples. This false keel protected the main keel if the ship grounded. On this backbone or groundwork the hull of the ship was built.

Much of the oak used in the building of the ships was grown in England in the royal forests—such as the Forest of Dean in Gloucestershire, and the New Forest in Hampshire. The oak was very costly, for the service required the very best wood. It could not be, or should not have been, used for a year after cutting, for it needed to be seasoned before being handled by the shipwrights. On coming to the yards it was stacked for some months in sheds, in various positions, according to its future use, to allow it to season. Much of it was pickled, or boiled in a kiln for many hours, to allow the workmen to bend it to the frame of the ship. In times of stress much of it was used green—not properly seasoned.

The ships were built in the open air, and it was the custom to allow the frame or skeleton of every ship to stand exposed to all the airts “for a twelvemonth or a little more,” before any timbers were placed across her ribs. It was thought that this exposure seasoned the oak of the frame. As a matter of fact, the constant wettings and warpings, from rain and sun, set up decay in the exposed wood, so that many ships had begun to rot “before a plank was put on.” Some, indeed, were as green as grass with mildew and fungus before the timbers were fitted. The general life of a ship in those days, built under these conditions, was only eight or nine years. Few lasted so long “without great repairs equal almost to their first cost.” Many rotted to pieces after a few months at sea. In 1812 a fine three-decker, which had seen no hard sea service, was condemned as rotten a year after she was launched.

The timbers of these ships were secured to the uprights of the frames by long wooden pins, of oak or pitch-pine, known as tree-nails. The use of tree-nails was reckoned “a great cause of decay,” but custom and thrift prescribed them. They were most insecure, as fastenings, for they were liable to shrink, so as to admit water to the middle of the plank. The plank when once wetted began to rot, and the shrunken tree-nail rotted with it, till at last the wooden bolt dropped from its hole, and the water obtained free admission. In those ships in which American oak had been used the decay set in more quickly than in other cases. These ships used to strain their seams or timbers open, ever so slightly, in heavy weather, admitting water to the cracks. The wood so wetted began to develop dry-rot or fungus from the moment the water penetrated its fibres. Both fungus and dry-rot spread with strange rapidity when once it had established itself, and a ship so attacked had either to be pulled to pieces, so that the rotting oak could be removed, or broken up as useless.

To build a 74-gun ship, or third-rate (the most general rate employed in our navy), of about 1700 tons, nearly 2000 oak-trees were needed. Half of this number—perhaps a little more than half—were English grown. The other moiety was foreign oak, “very good for the ship bottoms, under water,” but less lasting than the English kind. The foreign oak was sometimes American—and very subject to dry-rot—and sometimes from Silesia and Dantzic. An attempt was made to introduce cedar and scarlet logwood from Honduras, but the project failed, through the bankruptcy of the contractor. Fir was tried, at one time, for small ships of war, but it was too weak, and too little lasting, to be used for great ships. It was reckoned that a ship could be built for from £25 to £30 per ton, the actual cost of the oak being, on an average, about £7 per ton—a price much exceeded in the years subsequent to the death of Nelson.

When the ship was planked over and caulked she was sheathed below her water-line, to protect her timber from the teredo worm. Oak was very subject to the teredo, and many ships were practically eaten through, year after year, until 1758. In that year, a 32-gun frigate, H.M.S. Alarm, was sheathed with thin sheets of copper, against which the teredo worm was powerless. It was found that the copper also prevented the formation of barnacles and other filth which used to accumulate, many inches thick, on the bottoms of ships not coppered, impeding their way through the sea by several knots an hour. The first experiments with copper were not wholly satisfactory, for the copper corroded the heads of all the iron bolts with which it came in contact. This was remedied to some extent by the use of a thin sheath of fir wood, which kept the copper from direct contact with the oak and the iron bolts. In 1783 iron bolts were abolished, and copper bolts, or bolts with copper heads, were substituted. After this, copper-sheathing became general throughout the navy and the merchant-service. The copper of condemned ships was stripped from the hulks at Portsmouth, and melted in a furnace, to clean it. It was then hammered out into sheets and used again. As a rule, brown paper was inserted between the oak of the ship’s bottom and the sheets of copper.

Before the introduction of copper many experiments had been tried to keep out the teredo worm. Sheet-lead had been found too heavy, and not very efficacious. A layer of pitch, covered with successive layers of brown paper, tar, short hair, and thin deal plank, had been found effectual, if costly. A thin sheath of deal over the oak was better than nothing, for it took the worms some little while to get through to the oak, as they cared less for deal than for any other wood they attacked. A packing of lime, or a thorough washing with lime, was found to keep them away. There were also preparations of tar and tallow, and arrangements of hides and chemicals, which had their merits and demerits. Copper replaced all of these, though there was some little grumbling at the cost at the time of its first introduction.

As soon as a ship was built, sheathed, and launched, she was brought alongside a sheer-hulk, an old man-of-war cut down to her lower gun-deck. A sheer-hulk was fitted with a single mast in midships, to which was attached “an apparatus consisting of sheers, tackles, etc., to heave out or in the lower masts of His Majesty’s ships.” The “Establishment,” or Admiralty scale, gave minute instructions as to the length and size of every spar to be supplied to each rate. A stock of masts was kept at each dockyard in a vat of pickle known as a mast-pond. For great ships, and indeed for nearly all the rates in the navy, the lower masts were “built,” or “made,” of two or more pieces of fir strongly hooped together with iron hoops. When a ship came alongside a sheer-hulk her lower masts and bowsprit were hoisted into her and stepped. The fore-mast was stepped at a distance of one-ninth the length of the lower gun-deck from the stem of the ship. The main-mast was stepped in the centre of the ship, or a little abaft the centre. The mizzen-mast was distant from the bow about seventeen-twentieths of the length of the lower gun-deck. The heels of all three masts were stepped or fixed in strong wooden sockets, or mortises, known as tenons, at the bottom of the ship’s hold. These mortises or tenons were of oak, and the timbers which formed them lay across the keelson, or inner part of the keel. The bowsprit “steeved” or raked upwards at an angle of about thirty-six degrees with the horizon. The masts, as a rule, raked or inclined slightly aft, but the rake of a ship’s mast was sometimes altered to suit her sailing. Some ships sailed better with their masts stayed forward, or stayed plumb, without rake.

When the lower masts and bowsprit were stepped and secured the ship received her rigging from the rigging-loft. Her lower rigging was then set up by master-riggers, helped by the marines and standing officers. The shrouds and stays which secured the masts were made of hempen rope, “three-strand shroud laid,” tarred on the outside, but not within the lay of the rope. Wire rope, which is now used for nearly all standing rigging, was then unknown. When the lower rigging was all set up, and the rigging of the bowsprit finished, the jibboom and top-masts were sent aloft and rigged. When these were finished the flying jibboom and topgallant and royal masts were sent up and rigged, after which the ship’s standing rigging was complete. The stays, the strong ropes which supported the masts forward, were always doubled.

When the standing rigging was complete, the yards, on which the square-sails set, were crossed on their respective masts. The yards were of fir, the lower yards being “made,” or built, of more than one piece of timber. The upper yards were fashioned from single trees. Some captains of Nelson’s time slung their lower yards with chain, a custom which in time became general. As a rule, however, the lower yards were slung with stout rope. The rig was practically that in use at the time of the abolition of sailing ships in the Royal Navy in the early sixties. There were, however, various differences. The sprit-sail, a square-sail on the bowsprit, setting from a yard underneath that spar, was still in use. The sail was not abolished until about 1810, while the yard, or a relic of it, remained for many years later, though no sail was set upon it. On the mizzen-mast the spanker or driver was not set upon a gaff and boom, but on a great lateen yard, pointing fore and aft, its lower and forward arm reaching down to a little above the wheel. Ships with these lateen “cross-jacks” were to be seen almost at the end of the eighteenth century. No ships carried sails above their royals, the fourth square-sail from the deck. Stay-sails were set between the masts, and studding-sails at the extremities of the yards. Perhaps the last change in rigging which Nelson saw was the introduction of the flying jib, and its boom, at the extremity of the bowsprit.

A FIRST RATE SHIP OF WAR, CIRCA 1760

Masts, spars, sails, and rigging for ships of every rate were always kept in stock at the royal yards. The ships of the navy were built according to the “Establishment,” or Admiralty regulations, each ship of each rate being as like as possible, so that the gear of one 74 would fit every 74 in the service. The theory was excellent, but in practice it failed, because many of the ships in our navy in Nelson’s time were not built according to the “Establishment” but were captured from the French and Spanish. Indeed, the only good ships in our fleets were built by French and Spanish hands. The French treated shipbuilding as an imaginative art. The very finest brains in the kingdom were exercised in the planning and creation of ships of beautiful model. Admirable workmen, and the best talents of France, produced, in the latter half of the eighteenth century, a number of sailing men-of-war which were more beautifully proportioned, faster on every point of sailing, stronger, and with larger batteries, than the ships built in this country at that time. A French 80-gun ship at the close of the eighteenth century was bigger, more roomy, faster, and a finer ship in every way, than our 98-gun ships. Our own men-of-war were so badly designed and proportioned that they were said to have been built by the mile, and cut off as required. They were very cramped between-decks, yet they were nearly always pierced for more guns than they could conveniently fight. They were very crank ships, and so “weak” that they could not fight their lower-deck guns in anything like weather. They were slow at all points of sailing, and slack in stays. In heavy weather they sometimes rolled their masts out, or sprung them by violent pitching. Had the French been able to improve their guns as they improved their ships our navy would have been destroyed. As it was, their superior sailing was to some extent neutralised by the fact that decisive naval engagements had to be fought at close range, within, say, a quarter of a mile of the enemy. The Spanish ships were but a little inferior to the French. A queer Irish genius named Mullins, who had settled in Spain, was the master-shipwright responsible for them. They were used (as some of our French prizes were used) as models by our English designers, but the English ships were not markedly improved till after the death of Nelson. The following table may help the readers to an understanding of the different rates in use. The figures are approximate.

	No. of Guns	Weight of Broadsides	No. of Men	Tonnage	Length of Lower Gun Deck	Cost (without Guns)
				From
First-Rate	100, or more	2500-2550 lbs.	850-950	2000-2600 tons.	180 ft.	£70,000-100,000
Second-Rate	98 or 90	2050-2300 lbs.	750	2000 tons	170-180 ft.	£60,000
Third-Rate	80, 74, or 64	1970, 1764 or 1200 lbs.	720, 640, 490	2000-1700, 1300 tons	170-160 ft.	£54,000-36,000
Fourth-Rate	50	800 lbs.	350	1100 tons	150 ft.	£26,000
Fifth-Rate	44, 40, 38, 36, or 32	636-350 lbs.	320, 300, 250, 215	900-700 tons	150-130 ft.	£21,500-15,000
Sixth-Rate	28, 24, 20	250-180 lbs.	200-160	650-550 tons	130-120 ft.	£13,000-10,000

Beside these there were many small, unrated ships, such as gun-brigs, sloops, ketches, schooners, cutters, etc., and some foreign prizes so armed that they could not be rated by the English scale. It must be noted that our official rating reckoned only the regular armament—i.e. the guns of the regulation patterns. After 1779 our ships carried carronades in addition to their other guns, but these were never reckoned in the Admiralty ratings.

Viewed from without, a first, second, or third-rate wooden man-of-war appeared ponderous and cumbersome. A modern sailor, accustomed to the keen iron-ships of the present day, would have called such a ship a sea-waggon, qualified or otherwise, before spitting and passing by. But when the great sails were set, and the hull began to move through the sea, the cumbrous hulk took on attributes of beauty and nobility. There has been, perhaps, no such beautiful thing on earth, the work of man’s hands, as an old 74 under sail.

If one had taken a boat and rowed out to such a ship as she lay at anchor, fitted for the sea, towards the end of the eighteenth century, one would have been struck, first of all, by her bulk. The ships had bulging wooden sides, vast stern-works, and cumbrous wooden beakheads. They set one wondering how oak of such thickness could have been wrought to such curves. Till Nelson’s time there was no uniformity in the painting of the exteriors of the ships. The captains used their own discretion, and followed their own tastes, in the selection and application of the colours. The most general colour-scheme was as follows:—Along the water-line, just above the ruddy gleam of the copper-sheathing, was a wide black streak, running right round the ship, and reaching as high as the level of the lower gun-deck. Above this the sides were yellow, of a yellow sometimes inclining to brown, like the colour of certain varnishes, and sometimes of a brighter tint, like the colour of lemon peel. The after upper-works above the gun-decks, and the outer sides of the poops above the quarter-deck guns, were painted a vivid red or blue. This band of bright colour gradually faded, till by the time of Trafalgar it had become a very deep and dull blue, of a dingy tint that was very nearly black. A band of scarlet or pale blue, edged with gold, ran round the forecastle, and continued down the beak to the figurehead. The outsides of the port-lids were of the same colour as the sides—that is, of a brownish yellow. The stern-works were generally elaborate with gilded carving, gilt cherubs, and the like, and with red, blue, green and gold devices, such as cornucopias, drums and banners, royal arms, wreaths, etc. Round the stern of each ship, outside the glazed cabin windows (we are talking of a third-rate or 74-gun ship), ran a quarter gallery or stern walk, on which the captain could take his pleasure. The supports and rails of this walk were heavy with gold-leaf. First and second-rate ships had three and two stern walks respectively. At the bows, at the extremity of the great beakhead, was the ship’s figurehead, either a ramping red lion or a plain white bust, or a shield, or some allegorical figure suggested by the name of the ship. The allegorical figure was, perhaps, the most popular among the sailors. They took great pride in keeping it in good repair, with bright gilt on its spear or helmet, red paint upon its cheeks, and pretty blue sashes wherever such appeared necessary.

The ships of Lord Howe’s fleet, in 1794, appear to have been painted (externally) as follows:—The side of the ships above the line of the copper a dull brown tint; the tiers of ports a pale lemon yellow, chequered by the port-lids, the outsides of which were brown, like the sides of the ship. The gilded scroll-work, at bow and stern, was as usual. Lord Nelson is said to have painted the ships of his fleets after much the same pattern, only substituting black for the dull brown of the sides and outer port-lids. The arrangement used by him became popular. It was known as the “Nelson chequer”: black sides and port-lids, and yellow streaks to mark each deck of guns. It was at first used only by those ships which had fought at Trafalgar or the Nile. In time it became the system adopted throughout the Navy. The captains of some ships preferred their own colour-schemes, and painted their vessels with red or orange streaks to mark the gun tiers. The “Nelson chequer” was, however, to become the colour arrangement generally employed. Some years after Trafalgar the lemon-yellow ribands gave place to white, which continued in use till wooden men-of-war became obsolete. Those which remain afloat are painted black and white in the manner in use in the early sixties, when such ships ceased to be built.

Internally, the sides of the ships were painted blood-red, in order that the blood, which so often and so liberally spattered them, might not appear. The inner sides of the port-lids were painted of this colour, so that when the port-lids were opened, the brown or black of the ship’s sides was diversified agreeably with scarlet squares. After Trafalgar the interiors of the ships of war were sometimes painted in other colours, according to the whims of their commanders. Green was the most common variant, but the interior of some ships was painted yellow or brown. A favourite arrangement was the white and green—white for the ship’s sides and beams, and green for the waterways and coamings. White became the rule about the year 1840. Many internal fittings, such as gun-carriages, and, in some cases, the guns themselves, were painted red or chocolate. Lower masts were sometimes painted a dull brownish yellow. Top-masts and upper spars were covered with a dark brown preserving varnish. Yards and gaffs were painted black. Blocks, chains, dead-eyes, and wooden and iron fittings for the rigging, were tarred black to match the yards. The projecting platforms known as the chains or channels at the side of the ships, to which the lower rigging was secured, were painted to match the sides of the ships. As the masts of French ships were generally painted black, the ships in our fleets painted their masts white before any general engagement, so that the ships might be distinguished in the smoke and confusion.

The visitor going aboard one of these ships, and entering her, not by the entry port to the main-deck, with its little brass rail and carved porch, but by the gangway to the upper-deck, would have climbed from his boat by a ladder of battens nailed to the timbers. At each side of this ladder was a side rope, extended by iron stanchions. The rope, as a rule, was a piece of ordinary 3-inch hemp, worn smooth and shiny by many hands. For important visitors, such as a captain or flag-officer, special side ropes were rove, either of white cord or of the ordinary rope covered with green or scarlet cloth. Both the gangway and the entry port were guarded by a marine sentry, in a red coat, pipeclayed belts, and white knee-breeches. A midshipman kept watch about the gangway to report to the lieutenant the arrival of all boats coming to the ship before they drew alongside.

On gaining the deck of an old 74 the visitor would have found himself upon the spar-deck, just abaft the main-mast, fronting the great timber bitts, with their coils of running rigging. Close beside him was the quarter-deck ladder, leading up to the quarter-deck.[1] Above this again was the poop, a second raised platform or deck, reached by short, small ladders from the quarter-deck. Right at the stern of the ship, inclining outboard over the sea, was a flagstaff on which flew an ensign as large as a mizzen-topgallant-sail. If the visitor had clambered up the sloping deck to this point he would have been able to overlook the whole of the upper surface of the ship. Just beneath him, at his back, below the step of the flagstaff, he would have seen a heavy lantern, or stern light, with a ponderous and decorated case. To each side of the flagstaff were lifebuoys, by which a marine with a hatchet was always stationed when the ship was at sea. At the alarm of “man overboard” the marine hacked through the lanyard supporting one of the lifebuoys and let it drop into the water. At each side of the ship, along the poop and quarter-deck, were the after-guns, which, till 1779, when the carronade was adopted, were generally 9-pounders, in red wooden trucks or carriages, secured to the ship’s side in the usual way. These guns pointed through square port-holes which were cut, without lids, through the thick wooden bulwarks. Forward of the mizzen-mast, under the break of the poop,[2] or, in the later times, on the quarter-deck itself, was the great double steering wheel, placed in midships, abaft the binnacle which held the compass. The tiller ropes were made of raw-hide thongs, raw-hide being tougher than rope, and less dangerous to the crew when struck by a shot than chain would have been. Over the wheel hung the forward arm of the great lateen mizzen-yard,[3] a relic of Drake’s time, which was not abolished in favour of the spanker gaff and boom until the end of the eighteenth century. Along the sides of the quarter-deck, and along the ship’s bulwarks as far forward as the beakhead, were the hammock nettings, or hammock cloths, within which the hammocks of the ship’s company were stowed.

Forward of the quarter-deck, between that deck and the forecastle, was the waist, or, as a modern sailor would call it, the well. It was not decked over, nor were the wooden bulwarks of the quarter-deck continued along it, but to each side, in the place of bulwarks, were iron standards, supporting two thick canvas breastworks or stout nettings of rope about two feet apart, between which the hammocks of the crew were stowed. Directly within these breastworks were broad plank gangways, for the convenience of the sail-trimmers, small-arm parties, and marines. Between the main and fore masts, in midships, parallel with the decked-over gangways, were the booms, or spare spars, tightly lashed in position. On the top of these spars, or to each side of them, were the ship’s boats, long-boat, barge and cutter, with their oars and sails inside them. Farther forward was the forecastle, upon which were more carronades, or 9-pounder cannon, and one or two heavy bow-chasers, or guns made to fire forward. On the forecastle was the great ship’s bell, hanging from a heavy wooden or iron belfry, with a plaited lanyard on the clapper to help the timekeeper to strike it. In the centre of the forecastle was the galley-funnel, the chimney of the ship’s kitchen. At the forward end were ladders leading into the beakhead, from which the sailors reached the bowsprit when occasion sent them thither.

Under the poop was the captain’s cabin, extending from its forward limit to the gilded stern gallery. This part of the ship, extending outboard as it did, like a great gilt excrescence, was sometimes known as the coach or round house. Very frequently this cabin contained no guns. If it contained guns they were seldom or never fired. The ports of the cabin were glazed, and there was a couch or settee running under them for the ease of the captain. These settees were hollow, and formed convenient cupboards for the captain’s gear. As the floor or deck of the cabin was laid upon the beams of the main or upper gun-deck, it followed that the cabin was loftier and roomier than any other place in the ship. The poop, the deck above it, was raised some feet above the quarter-deck, as we have seen, so that the captain’s state apartment may have been some eight or nine feet high. A door from it opened into the stern walk, which opened by two little doors, one on each side, to the quarter galleries. The cabins were usually very bare. They were furnished with a large fixed table, a few heavy chairs, a fixed or swinging sleeping cot, and a wooden washhand stand containing a basin. It was shut off from the forward portion of the ship by a simple wooden bulkhead, made of elm, so fitted that it could be lifted from its place and shifted out of its way when the ship went into action. In early times, in the days of the Stuarts, this bulkhead and the interior of the cabin were made gay with carved work, or, as it was then called “gingerbread work.” Great ships of the first and second rates then carried joiners, to repair and keep beautiful these decorations. In the latter half of the eighteenth century the cabins were without decorations of any kind. The only breaks to the bareness of the wood were the captain’s foul-weather clothes, dangling from pegs, and his lamp swinging in its gimbals or hinges, his telescope in his bracket, and, perhaps, a trophy of swords and pistols, or a stand of the ship’s arms, such as muskets and cutlasses, in a rack about the mizzen-mast. There were, of course, captains like Captain Whiffle in the novel, or the scented Captain Mizen in the play, who lived in great splendour, in carpeted cabins hung with Italian pictures. These worthies kept perfumes burning in silver censers to destroy the odour of the bilge. Such captains were, however, the exception, not the rule. A captain with a case of books and a pair of curtains to his windows was regarded as a sybarite. Any decorations beyond these were looked upon as Persian and soul-destroying.

The forward bulkhead of the cabin was pierced with a door in midships, which opened on to the half-deck, the space covered by the quarter-deck. The half-deck was also known as the steerage, from the fact that the steering wheels and binnacle were placed there, under the roof or shelter of the quarter-deck planks. The sides of the half-deck were pierced for guns, generally carronades. It must be remembered that the half-deck was, as its name implies, decked over, so that one could walk from side to side of the ship on a floor of planks. The waist, or space between the fore and main-masts, on the same plane, was not so decked. The forecastle was decked across, and the sides of the forecastle were pierced for carronades. But there were no guns on the plank gangways along the sides of the waist, partly because the position was exposed, and partly because the space was needed in action by the sail-trimmers and small-arm parties. The raised forecastle and high poop and quarter-deck, were survivals from old time. In the old ships of war, of the reign of Elizabeth, these superstructures had been built of great strength and height, “the more for their majesty to astonish the enemy.” No ship could be carried by boarding until the men defending these castles had been overcome. No boarding party could enter such a ship without great danger, for the bulkheads of these castles were pierced for quick-firing guns, mounted so as to sweep the waist. Any troop of boarders clambering into the waist could be shot down by the gunners in the castles. The superstructures were excellent inventions for that time, when naval engagements were decided by hand-to-hand fighting, or by ramming. They were less useful when the improvements in ordnance made it possible to decide a sea-fight by the firing of guns at a distance. They lingered in our Navy until the third or fourth decade of the nineteenth century, when the raised or topgallant forecastle was abolished. Some twenty or thirty years before this happened the quarter-deck and poop were merged together, so that there was then but one deck above the spar-deck.

Passing forward from the steerage one came to the main hatchway in the open space of the waist, just forward of the main-mast. The ladders of this hatchway led from the waist to the deck below. This deck below the spar-deck was known in first and second rates as the main-deck. In third-rates, such as a 74-gun ship, it was called the second or upper deck. Right aft, on this deck, was the ward-room or officers’ mess, where the lieutenants had their meals. The room was large and well-lit, for the stern of the ship was pierced with five or six windows, which were all glazed, like the windows of the captain’s cabin. Part of the ward-room was used as an officer’s store-room, and this part seems to have been shut away from the rest by means of wooden bulkheads, made of elm, as being less liable to splinter if struck by a shot than any other sort of wood. There was no stern walk outside the after windows on this deck, but there were quarter galleries to each side. These were generally fitted up as lavatories for the lieutenants. Forward of the ward-room, on each side of the deck, were the state-rooms of the lieutenants—little fenced-off cupboards, walled with elm wood, each of them just large enough to hold a cot, a writing-desk, a chest of clothes, and a few instruments. In some ships—as in fifth and sixth rates—the lieutenants slung their hammocks in the ward-room, there being no space for private cabins. Beyond the ward-room bulkhead was the open deck, clear of obstruction save for the capstans and the openings of the hatchways, almost as far forward as the fore-mast.[4] Abaft the fore-mast, in midships, was the cook-room or galley, where the cook perspired over his coppers. The galley floor was paved with brick, to lessen the risk of fire. At each side of the deck, at their respective port-holes, were the lines of cannon. The general calibre for this deck, aboard a 74, was the 24-pounder. Of these there were usually some fifteen or sixteen at each side of the ship on this, the second or upper deck.

As a large portion of this deck was not decked over, but open to the sky, save for the boats and spare spars, the fighting space was comparatively light. In fine weather, and in moderately breezy weather, the gun ports on this tier could be kept open, at anyrate to leeward. In bad weather, when they were closed, when tarpaulins covered the hatchways and open spaces, the deck was lit by the bull’s-eyes—the round and oval plates of thick glass, which were let into the centre of the port-lids. At night the only lights allowed were cased in the battle-lanterns of thick horn. If the ship went into action at night the sailors fought their guns by the light these lanterns afforded, one lantern being placed beside each gun.

SECTION OF A FIRST RATE SHIP OF WAR, LATE 18TH CENTURY

Beneath the second or upper deck was the first or lower gun-deck, the principal deck of the ship. It was the broadest of the decks, and by far the strongest, and the most roomy. Here the heaviest cannon, the two long batteries of 32-pounder guns, were mounted; and here, in action, was the fiercest of the fighting. Right aft, on this deck, was the gun-room, in which the gunner and his mess lived. It was also the ship’s armoury, where the muskets, cutlasses and pistols were stored. The younger midshipmen sometimes slung their hammocks in the gun-room,[5] under the fatherly eye of the gunner. In some ships the gunner acted as caterer to the youngest of the midshipmen, and saw to it that their clothes were duly washed during the cruise. Forward of the gun-room bulkhead (or of the stand of arms mentioned below) there was the open deck, with the lines of guns in their blood-red carriages. The heavy rope cables stretched along this deck, in midships, nearly as far aft as the main-mast. Right forward, in midships, stretching across the bows, was the manger, a sort of pen, some four feet high, over which the cables passed to the hawse-holes. The manger was designed as a breakwater to keep the water which splashed through the hawse-holes from pouring aft along the deck. The hawse-holes were firmly plugged with oakum and wooden shutters when the ship was at sea, but no contrivance that could be devised would keep the water from coming in in heavy weather. The manger also served as a sheep-pen or pigsty or cattle byre, if the ship carried live stock. This lower-deck was the berth or sleeping deck, where the men slung their hammocks at night. It was also the mess-deck, where they ate their meals. The place was very dark and noisome in foul weather, for a very moderate sea made it necessary to close the port-lids, so that, at times, the crew messed in semi-darkness for days together. It was also very wet on that deck in bad weather, for no matter how tightly the ports were closed, and no matter how much oakum was driven all round the edges of their lids, a certain amount of water would leak through, and accumulate, and slop about as the ship rolled, to the discomfort of all hands. In hot climates the discomfort was aggravated by the opening of the seams of the deck above, so that any water coming on to that deck would drip down upon the deck below. Often in its passage it dripped into the sailors’ hammocks, and added yet another misery to their miserable lives. In midships on this deck, round the hatchway coamings,[6] were shot racks, containing 32-lb round shot for the heavy batteries. The pump-dale, or pipe for conveying the water pumped from the hold, ran across the deck to the ship’s side from “the well” by the main-mast. This was the sole obstruction to the run of the deck, from the gun-room to the manger, between the midship stanchions and the guns. There was a clear passage fore and aft, for the lieutenants in command of the batteries. In midships were the hatch-coamings, the capstans, the bitts and cables, and the stanchions supporting the beams. Between these obstructions and the breaches of the guns was a fairly spacious gangway, along which the officers could pass to control the fire.

Below the lower or first deck was a sort of “temporary deck,” not wholly planked over, called the orlop or overlap-deck. It was practically below the water-line when the ship’s guns and stores were aboard. It was therefore very dark and gloomy, being only lit by a few small scuttles, in the ship’s sides, and by lanterns and candles (or “purser’s glims”) in tin sconces. Right aft on this deck was the after cockpit, where the senior midshipmen, master’s mates, and surgeon’s mates, were berthed. This cockpit was of considerable size, for here, after an action, the wounded were brought, to suffer amputation and to have their wounds dressed. The mess table, at which the reefers and mates made merry, was fixed in the middle of the berth. After an action it was used as an operation table by the surgeons. Adjoining the after cockpit were cabins for the junior lieutenants; state-rooms for the surgeon, purser, and captain’s steward; the ship’s dispensary; a little cupboard for bottles and splints, and the purser’s store-room. In small ships of the fifth and sixth rates the marines berthed on this deck, abreast of the main-mast, hanging the beams with their pipeclayed belts and cartridge boxes. The spirit-room, about which the imaginative writer has written so imaginatively, was sometimes placed on this deck, near the after cockpit. More generally it was below, in the after hold.

Further forward, on the orlop-deck, the line of battleships had racks for the bags of the men and the chests of the marines, to which access could be had at stated times. In midships was the sail-room, or sail-locker, where the spare suits of sails were stowed. Here, also, were the cable-tiers, or dark, capacious racks, in which the cables were coiled, by candlelight, when the ship weighed her anchor. It was the duty of the midshipmen to hold the candles while this stowing of the cables was performed by the quarter-masters. After a battle, when the after cockpit was filled with wounded men, the midshipmen and mates slung their hammocks in the cable tiers. To the sides of the cable tiers were other tiers for the stowage of spare rigging and hawsers. Beyond these again, stretching across the deck, was the fore cockpit, where the boatswain and carpenter had their cabins and store-rooms. The carpenter’s store-room was filled with tools, and with the implements for stopping shot holes. Most of the actual carpentering was done above, in daylight, on the upper-deck. The boatswain’s store-room contained blocks, fids, marline-spikes, rope yarn, etc., for the fitting and repairing of the rigging. In peace time, for some reason, the boatswain and carpenter slept on the lower-deck in cots or double hammocks slung in the most favoured places. In war time they kept their cabins.

Near the two cockpits were the entrances to the fore and after powder magazines, where the ship’s ammunition lay. The hatches leading to the magazines were covered over by copper lids, secured by strong iron bars and padlocks. The magazines were only opened on very special occasions by the captain’s order. A marine sentry stood at the hatch of each magazine with a loaded musket, to prevent any unauthorised person from tampering with the padlocks or trying to enter. In battle this sentry was reinforced by a corporal’s guard with fixed bayonets, or by midshipmen with loaded pistols.

The magazines were situated in the fore and after parts of the ship’s hold. They were far below water, and situated in midships, so that no shot could penetrate to them. They were lit by ingenious contrivances called light-rooms, small chambers built just forward of them, and separated from them by double windows of glass. Lanterns were lit in these light-rooms and placed behind the windows, so that their light should illuminate the magazines. The floors or decks of the magazines were covered with felt, or with a rough kind of frieze known as fearnought. The walls or sides were similarly covered. No man was allowed to enter them until he had covered his shoes with thick felt slippers, and emptied his pockets of any steel or other metal, the striking of which might make a spark. The after-magazine was the smaller of the two. It contained no powder casks, but only a store of filled cartridges for the supply of the upper-deck 18- and 24-pounders, and the forecastle and quarter-deck carronades. In the fore-magazine were the tiers of powder casks, one above the other, the lowest tier having copper hoops about them. This place was protected even more carefully than the after-magazine, for here the loose powder was handled and placed in cartridge; and here the hand grenades and musket cartridges were stored. Here, too, were the cartridges ready filled for the batteries of 32-pounders on the lower or first gun-deck. This magazine was not reached by direct descent from a ladder. To reach it one had to pass along a little passage protected by a copper door and guarded by a marine. The cartridges for the cannon were stored in cylindrical wooden tubs or boxes, arranged in racks and covered with movable wooden lids. Forward of the fore-magazine was a lift or hoist, by which the cartridges could be passed from the magazine to the orlop, so that the boys employed in passing powder should not have to descend into the magazine. In some ships there was no such hoist, but a thick, wet, woollen screen with a hole in it, through which the cartridges were handed. The boys employed in carrying powder had to cover the cartridges with their jackets as they ran from the magazine to the gun they supplied. All magazines were fitted with a water tank and pipes, by which the chamber could be swamped in the event of fire.

Between the magazines was the vast round belly of the ship, known as the hold. Here the ballast, provision casks, and water casks were stowed. In the space forward of the after-magazine was a chamber known as the fish-room, for the storage of the ship’s salt fish. Beside it was the spirit-room, full of wine, brandy, and rum casks. Farther forward was the bread-room, a large apartment lined with tin, and artificially dried by hanging stoves. It contained an incredible quantity of ship’s biscuit, of which a pound a day was allowed to each man on board. The water and beer casks, and the casks containing peas, oatmeal, and salt flesh were stowed forward of the bread-room, according to the rules of the service.