Sailing ships

by E. Keble Chatterton

The Viking-like ships of England had gradually undergone important changes. Alfred had tried the experiment of building them of greater displacement, and this increase in size had gone on steadily after the time of William the Conqueror. Moreover, as we have seen, the development of the forecastle and sterncastle had prepared the English sailors for the logical outcome of these—the ship with two or three decks. At first a mere light scaffolding, castellated at the top and capable of being affixed to a merchant ship on the declaration of war, these castles had in the march of time assumed a more permanent character. Instead of being mere supports lashed together, the framework became more solid, and the design of the ship was adapted to suit these structures—the sweep of the hull, as we have seen, coming up to meet the platform, which steadily became lower and lower and projected less forward until both fore- and stern-castle were essential portions of the vessel.

But besides the knowledge that our forefathers had gained through studying the ships in the Mediterranean at the time of the Crusades and after, owing to the large carrying trade, some of the big ships from the three Mediterranean ports just mentioned were in the habit of coming into English waters with their merchandise of gold, silks and spices. Their stay here would not be too short for our shipwrights to study their build and architecture. Here was a new kind of ship that but few had ever seen. Their cargo capacity and high freeboard, and the fact that they held a crew numerous enough to fight pirates on even terms would instantly appeal to those who had eyes to see. As soon as ever peace at home gave a sufficient encouragement, shipbuilding was bound to go ahead on these larger lines. Henry V., too, had actually in his navy some Genoese ships of this type, and by the middle of the fifteenth century merchant ships of 100 tons were not rare, and some of even 300 tons were in existence, and trading to the Mediterranean, the Baltic and Iceland. The galley was fast disappearing, and instead of the one-masted ship, by the end of the fifteenth century a big vessel of 800 tons with four masts and a bowsprit began to be built.

The evolution of the number of masts was on this wise. When the single mast was multiplied two things happened. In the Mediterranean the additional mast forward of the mainmast had become the mât de misaine (Italian mezzana = foresail), or foremast. In Northern Europe the mast was added aft, but nevertheless called mizzen—still another instance of the confusion that has existed in nautical nomenclature. We know from the illustrations on old manuscripts of this period that vessels possessed as many as three and four masts, and this is further confirmed by the inventories still extant of Henry VII.’s ships. The same evidence proves the introduction by now of topmasts as fixed though separate spars. There is even one instance of a topgallant mast. Instead, therefore, of the old rig consisting of one large sail on the one mast there is—reckoning from forward to the stern—a spritsail on the bowsprit, a squaresail on the fore and main masts with one small topsail on each of these two masts, and a lateen or triangular-shaped sail on a yard, but with no boom of course, hoisted up the mizzen-mast. The spritsail was a squaresail on a yard lowered from the end of the bowsprit. If the reader will look at the illustration in Fig. 46 he will see a badly drawn, but none the less interesting, illustration of a carack of the beginning of the sixteenth century. The ship in the foreground is the Cordelière. Though much of the bow end is not shown, there is sufficient to indicate how the fore- and stern-castles have come down to be part of the hull, and how the latter has been increased in length. The three masts will also be seen, though the bowsprit is not shown. The castellated structures have become large, roomy cabins. Guns will be seen on both the lower and main decks. It was about the end of the fifteenth century, also, that portholes were introduced, and the tiers in forecastle and poop reached as many as three. The guns in the ships of Henry VII. were serpentines, breach-loading, using lead, stone or iron ball. From the tops, picked men still hurled javelins or shot arrows from their bows on to the enemy’s decks below.

When Henry VII. ascended the English throne, the first real effort in the direction of an adequate national navy was made. It was a critical moment. The country’s finances had been drained by the long-drawn out Wars of the Roses, so that her navy had been utterly and grievously neglected. Notwithstanding that under Henry V. it had increased to unprecedented strength—including as it did as many as thirty-eight vessels ranging from 400 to 600 tons—yet on the death of this fifth Henry the thirty odd ships that remained were, disgraceful to relate, sold out of the service, and by 1430 the English Navy comprised only two or three dismantled hulks.[60] It is true that Henry V. had been at great pains to build ships, and Southampton Water and Hamble, the pretty little village on the river of the same name, were in those days as interested in his ships of war as to-day they are in the industry which yachting brings to both of these places. It is true, also, that Edward IV. had at various times during his reign bought some ships, including the Grace à Dieu and Mary of the Tower, and the Martin Garsia, and that his successor, Richard III., had added to these three by the purchase of the Governor. These four indeed came into the possession of Henry VII. on his accession, but though the administration in his reign represented an effort rather than a complete reorganisation, yet it marked an important advance. He prepared the way for his successor Henry VIII., and showed his keen interest in the navy and maritime matters generally. But his especial good deed consisted in the building of two warships which were a considerable advance on any the country had previously possessed. Of these the Regent, of 600 tons, was inspired by French naval architecture. She was built on the Rother about 1490 and carried 225 serpentines. These guns were not of much avail in penetrating the enemy’s sides, but they would be efficacious in destroying his sails and rigging and in sending a sweeping fire over his decks. She had a foremast, foretopmast, mainmast, main-topmast and main topgallant mast, main mizzen and bonaventure mizzen.[61] Both mizzen-masts, having lateen-sails, were without topmasts. From the bowsprit, as already described, there was a spritsail. This, as we saw in Chapter III., had its origin in the Roman ships. I think there can be little doubt but that the spritsail was the lineal descendant of the artemon. It was scarcely very wonderful that it survived so long, seeing that the galleys had remained but little altered since classical times. We must not forget that the rig of the squaresail-ship originated in the Mediterranean, so that the spritsail would come most naturally to the aid of the ship for her head canvas. Similarly the lateen, being everywhere seen on the Mediterranean and Nile—on feluccas and dhows alike—would be found at hand for the after canvas. The preference for a lateen sail for the mizzen was based on the reason that such a sail will hold a better wind—will sail at least a point closer to the breeze. Its position in the stern was to facilitate the steering. The Regent’s topmasts and topgallant mast were separate spars fixed to the lower mast but could not be lowered or raised. The topgallant mast had a sail but no yard. It was not till many years after that the topgallant sails had yards. Mr. Masefield states that the topgallant sail began like a modern moonraker, i.e. a triangular piece of canvas, setting from truck to the yard-arm of the topsail yard immediately below.[62]

The Sovereign was of a similar type, though smaller. She had two decks in the forecastle, two in the summercastle, and in the topgallant poop. What the summercastle exactly was cannot be discovered, but Mr. Oppenheim suggests the very probable theory that it was the poop royal. At any rate it commanded an all-round fire and carried many guns. We shall see as we proceed how strong the tendency was in the sixteenth century to raise the poop to enormous heights. The Sovereign had no main topgallant mast as the Regent possessed. All the armament of both ships was carried in the waist, in the decks of the summercastle and poop, but there was no real gun-deck. With all this top-hamper, there is no wonder that the Santa Maria, Columbus’ ship, pitched so terribly. But in spite of the guns, a considerable part of the fighting was entrusted to the archers. Mr. Oppenheim mentions that the Sovereign had on board 200 bows and 800 sheaves of arrows, and but small quantities of gunpowder and lead.

When the Regent and Sovereign were launched at the end of the fifteenth century the sensation which they caused can scarcely have been inferior to that in our own times made by the launch of the Dreadnought and Bellerophon. The country had never produced such ships before in size and equipment. But just as it would have been impossible for our builders or designers to have suddenly brought a Dreadnought into being, so in the case of the Sovereign and the Regent what was seen was the result of gradual progress. The fifteenth century shipwrights and architects had step by step been feeling their way to higher achievements, and had the Wars of the Roses never occurred there can be little doubt but that these big ships would have been launched in an earlier reign.

The standards flown by the ships of this period were of white linen cloth, with red crosses of “say” (i.e., woollen cloth). The streamers with which they were wont to decorate their vessels in a somewhat profuse manner were also of linen cloth or “say.” The Regent had no gilding or carving, except a gilt crown. Nor was any great expense made on the score of paint, for we find a record of the painting of the Regent and another ship called the Mary Fortune. The whole job was done by contract for the sum of £2 19s. 10d. The davits, both of this period and for many years after, were used not for hoisting the ship’s boats aboard—which was done by means of tackles with poles and sheaves of brass—but for getting up the anchors. There were both fixed davits and movable ones that could be used in different parts of the ship. Most of the timber came from the New Forest and Bere Forest, not far from Portsmouth. Iron was bought by the ton and worked up at the royal forge into nails and spikes, &c.

In 1497 two smaller men-of-war, named respectively the Sweepstake and the Mary Fortune, were built. But these were much smaller than the other two, and carried three lower masts, a main topmast, as well as a spritsail on the bowsprit. The Grace à Dieu, which Henry had inherited on his accession to the throne, was renamed the Harry Grace à Dieu. She is said to have cost £14,000, to have had four pole masts, each with a circular top, a bowsprit, a built-up poop and forecastle, as well as two complete and two partial tiers of guns mounted in ports.[63] The late Sir W. Laird Clowes inclined to the belief that the drawing of the Harry Grace à Dieu in the Pepysian Library, Cambridge, represents not the ship of the same name built in the reign of Henry VIII., but that of which we are now speaking. By the beginning of Henry VIII.’s reign she had either disappeared or was known under a new name.

It was for a long time the custom of English monarchs in times of peace to let out on hire the royal ships to merchants. Nor did Henry VII. break away from this practice. Apart altogether from the importance which big ships possessed from a naval point of view, it was a profitable speculation to build large vessels. Merchants were glad to hire them, since it saved the necessity of having to build for themselves or of keeping them in commission when their voyages were ended. The larger the tonnage of the ship the more popular were they to the hirers, for the reason that they not only held more cargo and were less likely to succumb to pirates, but that they could voyage to virgin fields where trade could be established. Henry, in addition to the ships he had inherited and built, also hired some himself, both from his subjects and the Spanish. He even went so far as to purchase some vessels from the latter, but Spain eventually legislated to prevent Spanish-owned ships from being sold to foreign Powers.

We find references in the naval accounts of this reign to caulking with “ocum”; also to the “crane line,” which led from the sprit mast to the forestay, and steadied the former. Among the details preserved to us concerning the Grace à Dieu we find that she had three bonnets for the mainsail, the lacing that secured the bonnet to the foot of the sail (after the manner adopted by the Vikings) being called “latchetes.” There is a considerable similarity between the nautical terms of this period and of our own time. Corks were used for buoying anchors; “deadmen’s eyes” (dead-eyes, as we now call them, through which the lanyards of the shrouds are passed), “painters” (Mr. Oppenheim derives this familiar word from the old French pantiere, meaning a noose); hawse, used in its old sense, to mean the bows of a vessel—hence our modern expression “athwart hawse,” meaning across the bows—these, as well as others, were in daily use among sailormen. We find mention of the fact that the Grace à Dieu had “a shefe (i.e., a sheave or pulley-wheel) of brasse in the bootes halse.” There were not always bulwarks or rails to ships of this age, and sometimes before going into action a cable was coiled round about the deck breast high in the waist, bedding and mattresses being also requisitioned as protection against the enemy’s fire.