Sailing ships

by E. Keble Chatterton

The sail itself was made of home-spun until with civilisation came the cultivation of flax. It was strengthened with a hem of rope, and was frequently striped. Sometimes it was embroidered or decked with pall. It is perfectly clear that the Vikings did know of the art of tacking for we find the word in the Norse which means this—beita. The portions of the sail were sewed together with thread, rings being attached to the leach in such a place that the sheets could be conveniently made fast when the vessel had need to shorten sail. Small ropes or reefing points were also affixed to the sail. We shall see this quite easily when we come to consider similar ships in the next chapter. Mention has just been made of Sigurdson’s sails of velvet. Very highly did the Vikings respect their wings. Gorgeous sails were worked by their women folk, with cunning designs and beautiful embroidery, even historic incidents being included. White sails were sometimes striped with red and with blue, whilst others of double velvet were made gay with exquisitely woven patterns in red, purple and gold. As is the case in regard to many other details this custom of decorating the sail was passed on to the English, and it is a matter for regret that our seas do not still witness these picturesque spots of warm colour flitting over the cold green waves.

Very poetic, too, are the phrases in which we find, from the Sagas, the Norsemen referred to their sail. Thus such happy expressions as “The Cloak of the Wind,” “The Tapestry of the Masthead,” “The Sheet spun by Women,” “The Cloth of the Wind,” “The Beard of the Yard,” “The Fine Shirt of the Tree,” are found. With a shipload of thirty or fifty lusty Norsemen singing and swinging to their oars, with a sail above bellowing out its purple and gold over their flaxen heads, with their red and white striped hull, and their standards and gay weather-vanes waving at her extremities—what a feast of colour, what a sight for mortals she must have made as she came sliding down the billows towards the unprotected yellow shore!

There were three distinct classes of ships possessed by these Northerners. Firstly, the warships, including the Dragon type, so called from the figurehead at her stem; the Snekkja, named after the Long Serpent or Snake ship; the Skuta or swift, “shooting” ship, to which the Gogstad and the Nydam craft belong, the Buza resembling the Skuta; and finally the longship, or, to give her the native word, langskip. But far and away the largest of this class was the Dragon, whilst the most celebrated for beauty of design was the not inaptly named “Long Serpent.” Indeed, right until the twelfth century this vessel dominated the design of most other ships built around the North Sea and English Channel.

Secondly there were the ships of burthen, modifications of the warships: and finally the small boats, also fitted with mast and sail, which were carried on board the bigger craft.

In almost every case there was but a single row of oarsmen on each side, protected by the overlapping wooden shields from both arrows and waves, whilst the name given to the rope surrounding the ship so as to guard against the shock of ramming was the viggyrdil. Whilst the dragon’s head was on the stem-post and the tail of the dragon ornamented the stern, the tiller, and, as we know from the Gogstad ship, the handles of the oars were also decorated. We have a relic of this custom in the beautifully carved dogs’ heads so often found on yachts and other craft before iron helms came so much into practice. With regard to the nomenclatures of these old vessels we find such figurative terms as “Deer of the Surf,” “Snake of the Sea,” “Lion of the Waves,” applied to them: but it is not without interest to remark that not until about the time of the introduction of Christianity is frequent mention made of the naming of a ship at launching. They carried with them, on board somewhere, rollers wherewith to beach and launch their ships. These are referred to in the early accounts of the Viking burials and launchings.

In building a vessel there were three chief classes of shipwrights employed. There was the head-smith, the stem-smith, who was responsible for the construction of her framework, and finally the strake-smith. Besides these came also the joiners, nail-makers, blacksmiths and other workmen.

When making a passage every oarsman kept his weapons underneath his seat in a chest, and when the fight began, the ships—following the practice of the early Mediterranean galleys—of the aggressor and the enemy were locked together so that the warfare resembled a land battle. This custom naturally was handed on to the English, and there are not wanting in old manuscripts illustrations showing this method of warfare. The prow had its raised deck and the stern likewise. In between, but considerably lower, was the maindeck. At the poop, in his historical position, stood the commander. Here, too, immediately below him was the ship’s arsenal for whenever fresh arms had to be served out. Each ship had five compartments, two being in the stern as just described—the commander’s room called the lofting, and the fore-room used for the next in rank as well as for the arms. We have also mentioned the central space of the ship where the mast and rowers were placed. And forward beyond that were quartered the important men who were responsible for defending the stem and who also bore the standard, this bow section being divided into two sections. One can readily understand how essential it was that only picked men should be in this part, for when once the bow end had been stormed, it would be with difficulty that the enemy, coming aboard, could be repelled from the rest of the ship.

As to the navigating methods of the Vikings, although they understood the cardinal points of north, south, east, and west long before the loadstone was invented, yet their voyages mostly consisted of coasting from shore to shore like the ancient Greeks. But as to how they were able to make such long voyages as to Iceland, and thence across to what are now the New England states of America without compass or sextant, I offer no explanation, beyond attributing success to that wonderful additional sense and intuition which seamen possess and which is, we find all round our coasts, developed in a high degree in fishermen unlettered and untutored. Of course they had the rising and setting of the sun to enable them to distinguish east from west, and the stars, too, would be for their assistance, but with such slender aids to navigation and in spite of being blown off their course as such shallow ships must frequently have been, they very rarely got wrong in their bearings. But perhaps we ought to admit that usually the Vikings were wise enough not to fight against nature wantonly; for they confined their sailing seasons, following the example again of the Mediterraneans, to spring and summer. Except when they were in some country too far distant, the Vikings always returned home about the autumnal equinox and “brought their ships to the roller.”

Because the Vikings coasted as a rule instead of making a passage across the Ocean, they were frequently able to go ashore at nights to sleep. But whether they slept ashore or afloat each man turned-in in a leather sleeping-bag. Under that awning and on board such able ships the possibilities of comfort were perhaps not so limited as one might imagine at first. The cooking could only be done on land, so this was an additional reason for hugging the shore. In fact a municipal law of Bergen in the year 1276 assumed this, for it enacts that the mate shall, whenever the ship lies at anchor in harbour, cause the crew to be put on shore and brought back on board once a day: but the cook is to be allowed ashore three times—once to take in water and twice to take in food. Bronze cooking vessels belonging to the ships have also been found.

Thus we conclude our investigation of these eternally fascinating sailing ships of the land of pines and fjords, of glacier and keen biting air. We leave them with reluctance, but our regret is tempered with the knowledge that henceforth wherever we discuss the sailing ships of our English nation, we shall know that either obvious or concealed there is the Viking influence lurking in her design, her manner of construction or her sail and rigging.