Sailing ships

by E. Keble Chatterton

These excavations have revealed discoveries of two kinds, which we shall deal with as we proceed. In Great Britain, and in Germany, various examples of the prehistoric “dug-out” have been unearthed. The Museums of Edinburgh, York, Bremen, and Kiel, happily contain these interesting craft, preserved for the wonder of future generations. The second class is more valuable still, and far more picturesque, for thanks to the burial customs of the old sea-chiefs, there have been excavated from certain mounds in Norway, wonderful old Viking ships in a state of preservation that is remarkable when we consider how many centuries they have lain under the earth. Therefore, fortunate as we deemed ourselves in being able to have such sources of information as models and reproductions of the ships of Southern Europe, we are far more happy in our present section for we can go to the fountain head direct—the ships themselves.

To us members of the Anglo-Saxon race, the importance of the forces at work during the period we are about to consider cannot be lightly estimated. The influence of the Viking, or double-ended type of ship, dominated the whole of the coast-line from Norway to the land as far south as the northern shores of Spain, right from the period that followed the construction of mere dug-outs, until almost the close of the fifteenth century of our era. That is to say, as soon as ever the North European became sufficiently civilised to build rather than to hew his craft: as soon as he undertook the making of ships rather than of boats—he came under the power of that naval architecture, which we see illustrated in the ships of the Veneti and Scandinavians; and, irrespective of geographical position, of language, of tribe or of nation, the civilised inhabitants living on that vast stretch of littoral, from the North Cape to the southern boundary of the Bay of Biscay, continued in the same conventions of design and build for many hundreds of years. It is a striking proof of the accurate knowledge in shipbuilding and ship-designing possessed by these early Northerners when we remember that, even to this day, that influence, far from disappearing, shows a strong tendency to increase, at any rate, in the architecture of yachts and fishing boats. Thus, the Egyptians, who moulded for ever afterwards the lines of the ships of the Mediterranean, have in Northern Europe, their counterpart in the Norsemen. What the galley was to the south, the Viking ship has been to us living in colder climes.

The obvious question occurs at this point as to what, if any, is the connection between the Mediterranean galley and the ship of the North Sea. That there is some similarity will be realised when we collect the following characteristics. And first, the very shape of both kinds of vessels—long, narrow, flat-bottomed; then the arrangement of the large squaresail with its braces and rigging; the mode of steering at the side; the pavisado that ran round the ship to protect the men from the enemy; the spur with which they rammed the enemy’s ships; the girdle that went round the ship to prevent damage caused by ramming; the ornamentation of the head of the vessel; their very methods of naval warfare, and finally, their adoption later of fore-castles and stern-castles—what else do these similarities show but that there existed a common influence? With such evidence before us, it becomes somewhat difficult to find agreement with those who contend that between the two classes of ships there is no connection whatever, except such as chance might have brought about. I am not denying that there are important differences between the ships of the two seas, but I contend that such important resemblances to each other need an explanation more scientific than can be ascribed to chance.

But assuming that we are right in our surmise, by what means were these early Norwegians affected by the southern design? Were they influenced by Roman civilisation? That they certainly were not. Then the southerners came to them?[24] Here is our contention. Though we have no actual proof, it seems justifiable to suppose that those great travellers and sea-folk, the Phœnicians, who, we have seen, were unsurpassed in their time for seamanship and shipbuilding; who have been said to have voyaged to the setting sun as far as America, and to have crossed the Bay of Biscay to Ireland and Cornwall, might have taken advantage of the prevailing westerly wind which blows across our land and have held on until they had touched the shores of Denmark or Norway. But why should they, do you ask? We have seen that the Phœnicians were not merely great sailormen, not merely adventurous, not merely eager explorers, but practical business-men, merchants, traders. If they had found ore in Cornwall, would they not have been inclined to seek other lands for what they could barter or wrest ere returning to their own homes? Even supposing the Phœnicians never crossed to South America, we know that they circumnavigated Africa. A land that bred seamen of that daring and ability would not be lacking in the kind of men to discover Norway.

And there is still another reason, it seems to me, why the Phœnicians might have felt tempted to go eastward after Cornwall. Ignorant as they were of the world’s geography, might they not have thought that, just as by sailing round always to the starboard they had encircled Africa, so having performed roughly a semi-circle from the Mediterranean to the English Channel, if they kept their course over the wilderness of sea in front of them, they would ultimately find that Europe, like Africa, was an island, too, and that the nearer they approached the rising of the sun the sooner would they see their homes again?

And if we are told to explain the differences between, on the one hand, the ships of the Phœnicians or their later descendants the Greeks and Romans, and on the other, those of the Vikings, it is but natural that, given a general design which has originated in the smoother waters of the Mediterranean, it must necessarily be somewhat modified for the nasty seas of the Baltic and German Ocean, where sudden changes of wind are but the harbingers of the rapid approach of bad weather. Cæsar, when he came north into Brittany, was struck, in comparing the ships of the Veneti with his own, by the superior seaworthiness of the former, and adds significantly that “considering the nature of the place and the violence of the storms, they were more suitable and better adapted.”[25] There is to-day a far greater difference in England between the sailing ships of one port and another than there was between the old Viking vessels and those of the Phœnicians. If you cruise round from one coast of Great Britain to another, you will find in the Scotch fishing craft, the Yorkshire cobble, the Yarmouth fishing smack, the Lowestoft “drifter,” the Thames “bawley,” the Deal galley, the Itchen Ferry transom-sterned cutters, the Brixham “Mumble Bees,” the Falmouth Quay-punt, the Bristol Channel pilot, and the Manx lugger, a wonderful complexity of designs and rigs, but the reason is always that that particular design and rig have been found to be the most suitable adaptation for each particular coast.

So it was with the Vikings. They modified the Phœnician design to their local requirements, without, nevertheless, neglecting those features essential to a good ship. After they had been shipbuilders for some time they would rapidly learn for themselves the values of length and beam, of draught and sweet lines, of straight keel, with high stem to breast a wave, and high stern to repel a following sea. Double-ended as they were, there was a reason for this essential difference from the Phœnicians. Such seas as they had in the North would not suffer their ships to be beached always in fine weather. So in order that they could be brought to land with either end on, and in order, too, that in sea-fights they might easily manœuvre astern or ahead, the Viking ships were built with a bow both forward and aft.

But long before ever the Phœnician ships came to the shores of Northern Europe there were boats and sailing ships. No doubt the prehistoric man in the north was driven to finding some means of transportation across the fjord by the same stern mother Necessity that first induced that primitive whom we saw learning his elementary seamanship on the Tigris or Euphrates. That ancient Northerner of the Stone Age made a wonderfully historic discovery when he found that he could make an edge to his stone, and that thereby he was able to cut both flesh and wood. “For,” says Mr. Eiríkr Magnússon in his interesting essay,[26] “on the edge, ever since its discovery, has depended and probably will depend to the end of time the whole artistic and artificial environment of human existence, in all its infinitely varied complexity.... By this discovery was broken down a wall that for untold ages had dammed up a stagnant, unprogressive past, and through the breach were let loose all the potentialities of the future civilisation of mankind. It was entirely due to the discovery of the edge that man was enabled, in the course of time, to invent the art of shipbuilding.”

The monoxylon—the boat made from one piece of timber—as fashioned by the early sailorman of the Stone Age, is even still used in parts of Sweden and Norway. Indeed it still bears the name which is the equivalent of “oakie,” showing that it was originally made out of the oak-trunk, which is the thickest and therefore the most suitable trunk to be found in the forests of the North Sea coast, a region, that in the time of the Stone Age was densely wooded with oak trees. Afterwards, this monoxylon or dug-out, in order that she may be made so strong as to carry as many as forty men, is strengthened with ribs, and the flat bottom has the modification of a keel added. The vessel that was found at Brigg in Lincolnshire in May 1886 ([see Fig. 25]) is of this kind. A similar kind of boat was found in the Valdermoor marsh in Schleswig-Holstein during the year 1878, and is now in the Kiel Museum. As there are other similar boats in existence, perhaps it may interest the reader if we deal with these discoveries a little more fully.