In the S. Kensington Museum.
The training of a navigator such as went on in Seville was very thorough, so that it formed an excellent precedent for all who had at heart the education of the complete navigator. The training in the year 1636 was a three-year course, and the following curriculum is given for that year by Sir Clements Markham in his “Sea Fathers”:—
First Year: (1) The sphere of Sacrobosco. (2) The four rules of Arithmetic: Rule of three, extraction of square root, cube root, and fractions. (3) The theory of Purbach, or planets and eclipses. (4) The spherical trigonometry of Regiomontanus. (5) The Almagest of Ptolemy.
Second Year: (1) The first six books of Euclid. (2) Arcs and chords, right sines, tangents and secants. (3) To complete Regiomontanus and Ptolemy.
Third Year: (1) Cosmography and navigation. (2) Use of astrolabe. (3) The methods of observing the movements of heavenly bodies. (4) The use of the globe and of mathematical instruments. (5) The construction of a watch.
It must not be forgotten that the life on board a Tudor ship was, even for rough, rude, untutored seamen, full of hardships, even if full of adventure. Anyone who cares to look through the records of the voyages can see this for himself. We are accustomed to regard that as a romantic age; but the romance is only visible through the avenue of distance which now separates us from those times. The victualling was disgracefully mismanaged at the beginning of the sixteenth century. The crews of ships were actually allowed to fight in the English Channel for their country in a condition that was almost sheer starvation. Actually the commissariat department was so bad that ships had to return home from the region of battle to fetch supplies. There was nothing very romantic, either, in having to serve on ships which exuded a terrible stench from their holds. A horrible mixture of bilge-water and decayed food, coupled with the heat of the galley, helped to make the health of the Tudor sailorman anything but good.
Henry VII had done his best to encourage enterprising shipbuilders by giving them a bounty on the tonnage built, and there is a record of at least one ship’s smith being given an annuity for his services to the king’s ships. This, like many other customs, had been derived from Spain. Still, for all that, the warships put to sea with so many leaks that “the water cam in as it wer in a seve.” And there was no dry dock until Henry VII built the first at Portsmouth with timber gates and “one ingyn to draw water owte of the seid dokke.” When they went forth to the naval wars of this period they fought with bows, arrows, spears and demi-lances, morris-pikes, halberds, bills, guns (including falcons and harquebuses). There were rammers and powder for the guns, and shot of iron, stone, and lead, artillery having been recently introduced. Portholes had also been introduced in the reign of Henry VII, and the passing of the Viking type of ship to that of a bigger, more seaworthy type, with high-charged stern and bow, was the beginning of a new order of things. Gradually the merchantman became separated from the pure warship, and cannon took the place of the hand-to-hand encounter. But these changes came only by slow stages.
In the time of Henry VIII England was still leaning on the work of the foreign shipwright. Spain, Genoa, Venice, and the Hanseatic League all helped. The arsenal at Venice at this time was a wonderful depôt for shipping—wonderful in its completeness and systematisation. There was everything always ready here for the ship to be used at a moment’s notice. Over a hundred ship-houses were there, containing all the component parts of craft. Armouries, foundries, rope-works, workshops, stores of timber, provisions, and munitions of war—it was all done on a big scale. Such was the perfection of organisation that the master-carpenters and their men actually demonstrated their ability to put together all the detached parts of a galley—rigging included—in less than a couple of hours.
Spain supplied a good deal of the iron for the anchors and guns of England until our forefathers quarried for themselves. Thanks to Continental influence, a knowledge of artillery was growing up in England and employed usefully on board our ships of war. Had you met any of these craft at sea you would have been struck by the painted sails, bearing the picture of a saint or whatever device the admiral preferred. Those high forecastles and poops were also most splendidly decorated, so likewise the shields round the upper part of the castles were emblazoned with the arms and devices of the admiral. There were flags bravely flying on the forecastle, on the poop, and amidships; from the main-top a broad swallow-tailed standard flew bearing the admiral’s devices and reaching down to the water. Every mast had its bunting, and for celebrating a triumph the ship was still further draped with rich cloth. Thus she looked, with her many flags fluttering in the wind, more like a fair-ground than an instrument of war.
Such a ship as the famous Great Harry (1500 tons) carried quite a big company—400 soldiers, 260 sailors, and 40 gunners. Admirals and captains were still rather military officers and courtiers than sailors, though the masters were responsible for the handling of the ship. On this same vessel there were below the rank of master the following ratings: master’s mate, four pilots, four quartermasters, quartermasters’ mates, boatswain and boatswain’s mate, cockswain and his mate, master-carpenter and his mate, under-carpenter, two caulkers, purser, three stewards, three cooks, cooks’ mates, two yeomen of the stryks (ropes) and their mates, and two yeomen of the ports with their mates. Some sort of uniform was worn by the officers, consisting of green and white coats—the Tudor colours.