The appointed day has come, and the time for the sending afloat and formal naming of the Dreadnought: Tuesday afternoon, the 10th of November, 1573.
The ship lies ready for launching at the appointed moment, having been duly “struck” upon the launching ways a day or two before, under the supervision of Master Baker himself, in the dock where she has been building; shored up on either side, and with the lifting screws and “crabs” prepared to heave her off. The dockhead has been dug out and finally cleared at low tide on Monday, leaving the double gates free and in order, ready to be swung back and opened as soon as the tide begins to make on Tuesday morning.
We will imagine ourselves on the spot at the time and looking on at what took place. It is possible to do so, thanks to a manuscript left by Phineas Pett, Peter’s son and successor at Deptford royal yard.
All is ready for the day’s proceedings by a little after noon, when the important personages taking part at the launch, “by commandement of ye officers of Her Grace’s Maryn Causys,” and the invited guests and superior officials of the dockyard assemble for a light refection of cake and wine in the Master Shipwright’s “lodging,” preliminary to the ceremony.
Who named the Dreadnought on that day? Unfortunately that one detail is not mentioned in any existing record, and the Navy Office book for the year, where the name would certainly have been found, together with the honorarium or fee, paid according to custom, is missing. Most probably it was Captain Stephen Borough himself, and we may imagine him there, apparelled for the day in crimson velvet and gold lace, in the full uniform of one entitled to wear “Her Maᵗⁱᵉˢ cote of ordinarie.” His rank and standing as one of the “Principall Masters of the Queen’s Maᵗⁱᵉˢ Navie in Ordinarie” qualified him for performance of so dignified a duty. The Principal Masters were often deputed by the Lord High Admiral to preside on his behalf at the launches of men-of-war and perform the name-giving ceremony.
While the high officers are having their refreshments in Master Shipwright Baker’s lodging, Boatswain Baxster and the assistant shipwrights are stationing the men on board and at the launching tackles. The customary “musicke” then makes its appearance, “a noyse of trumpetts and drums,” who post themselves on the poop and the forecastle of the ship. Next, a “standing cup” of silver-gilt, filled to the brim with Malmsey of the best, is set up on a pedestal fixed prominently on the poop, and the Queen’s colours are hoisted on board, together with the flag of St. George. At the same time pennons and streamers of Tudor green and white, and decorated with royal emblems and badges, are ranged here and there along the ship’s sides and on the forecastle.
All is ready ere long, and then, forthwith, word is sent to Master Shipwright Baker and the gentlemen of the company. Forthwith the procession forms itself and sets out in stately fashion to go on board.
With his grey hair unbonneted
The old sea-captain comes;
Behind him march the halberdiers,