The French about this time began to turn out ships on much better lines than our own, and throughout the eighteenth century and part of the nineteenth our French prizes were our best-looking and best-sailing ships. However, a writer at the very end of the seventeenth century makes the following comparison between the fighting capacity of the French and British ships of the period: "Our guns, being for the most part shorter," he says, "are made to carry more shot than a French gun of like weight, therefore the French guns reach further, and ours make a bigger hole. By this the French has the advantage to fight at a distance, and we yard-arm to yard-arm. The like advantage have we over them in shipping; although they are broader and carry a better sail, our sides are thicker and better able to receive their shot; by this they are more subject to be sunk by our gun-shot than we." At the beginning of the eighteenth century the exterior of the bulwarks of the upper deck, poop, and forecastle was generally painted blue, though occasionally red. On this broad band, carved devices, generally representing trophies of colours, arms, and guns, were placed between the ports, which on the upper deck were round. Outboard a carved wreath encircled them, which, with the numerous other ornamental carvings at bow and stern, was profusely gilded. Below this broad blue band the sides of the ship were of a yellow tinge, and were finished off, just above the water-line, with a single or double black wale.
Photo. Symonds & Co.
Nelson's famous flagship, dressed with flags in honour of the visit of the French President to Portsmouth.
The hull below this was painted white. The ship's sides inboard were usually coloured red, in order, the story goes, that the crew should not be affected by the sight of blood splashes in action. The gun-carriages were often the same colour. The beak-head had disappeared, and the stem curved up at a somewhat abrupt angle, finishing off with a big figure-head, as often as not a lion. As the century went on it was found that not only were the French building better ships than our own, but the Spaniards also. Our ships might possibly have had thicker sides, as claimed by the old writer already quoted, but towards the middle of the century there were great complaints of their structural weakness, and in 1746 the first of an improved and stronger type was taken in hand. This was the Royal George, memorable especially from her tragic end at Spithead, where she capsized and went down, taking 900 men, women, and children with her. In 1765 Nelson's Victory—perhaps the most famous ship in history—was built. Thenceforward our battleships were classified by the number of guns they carried. Thus the Victory and sister ships carried 100 guns. Then came 90-gun ships, 80-gun ships, "74's", "64's", and 50-gun ships.
As time went on there was naturally a slight increase in size in the newer ships, but they were not altered in type. Thus the Hibernia of 1795 was of 2508 tons displacement, as against the 1921 tons of the Victory, and mounted ten more guns. Perhaps the finest sailing three-decker ever built was the Queen, begun in 1833 and launched in 1839. This ship had a displacement of 4476 tons, yet a picture of her would almost pass muster for the Victory. The Duke of Wellington was built as a sailing-ship, but fitted with engines before her launch in 1852, and was very much the same to look at, except that her stern was more rounded and had two or three projecting balconies or "stern-walks". The Duke brings us to the end of the epoch of wooden line-of-battle ships. Iron ships protected with armour took their place, but these will be dealt with in another chapter.
The external colouring of our men-of-war remained much the same up to the battle of Trafalgar, though the carving and gilding grew gradually less. At the Nile in 1797 there were ships of all sorts of colouring. Thus the Audacious had plain yellow sides, the Zealous red sides with yellow stripes. Most, however, were yellow, with different numbers of narrow black stripes. This yellow and black developed into what was known as "Nelson Mode"—yellow bands on the lines of the gun-ports, with black bands between. It is this style with which we are most familiar, on account of the many paintings and engravings of men-of-war in action at that and more recent periods; for, except that later on the yellow was changed to white, the fashion lasted till the advent of the ironclads.
Having glanced in this cursory manner at the ships which flew the "meteor flag" between the times of our two greatest queens, Elizabeth and Victoria, it will be well to give some account, however brief, of the costume of the men who manned them.
We have little or no personal information about the seamen of the Elizabethan navy, but we know from their doughty deeds that they were good men and true, and we also know that they, like their predecessors, were pretty well paid and provisioned. Uniform clothing they probably had not,[22] but in the reign of James I there is a description of a masque in which appeared men dressed as "skippers", in red caps, short cassocks, wide canvas breeches striped with red, and red stockings. The six "principal masters of the navy" were provided annually with coats of red cloth, "guarded", or faced, with velvet of the same colour, and "embroidered with ships, roses, crowns, and other devices". But, though this fine apparel was provided for the favoured few, the seamen began at this time to be neglected, poorly paid, badly fed, and ill-treated—thanks probably to having such greedy officials and incapable officers as the Duke of Buckingham and other courtiers at the head of the navy. The Venetian ambassador to James I reports the great falling off of the British navy as compared to that of Henry VII and VIII.