How far the introduction of cannon on shipboard contributed to this

result it is difficult to say exactly. In so far as it may have, the

blame rests with the English, who were perfectly familiar with cannon

at that time. If, therefore, the very crude stone-throwing cannon of

those days had any particular advantages over the stone-throwing

catapults previously employed, failure to fit them is merely a further

proof of the inefficiency of those responsible for naval matters in

the closing years of Edward III’s reign. Probably, however, the cannon

contributed little to the result of La Rochelle, for, like all battles

of the era, it was a matter of boarding--of “land fighting on the

water.”

The reign of Richard II saw England practically without any naval

power at all. The French and Spaniards raided the Channel without

interference worth mention. Once or twice retaliatory private

expeditions were made upon the French coast; but speaking generally the

French and Spaniards had matters entirely their own way, and the latter

penetrated the Thames so far as Gravesend.

In the year 1380, an English army was sent over to France, but this,

as Calais was British, was a simple operation, and although two years

later ships were collected for naval purposes, English sea impotence

remained as conspicuous as ever. In 1385, when a French armada was

collected at Sluys for the avowed purpose of invading England on a

large scale, no attempt whatever seems to have been made to meet this

with another fleet. Fortunately for England, delays of one kind and

another led to the French scheme of invasion being abandoned.

Under Henry IV, matters remained much the same, until in the summer

of 1407, off the coast of Essex, the King, who was voyaging with five

ships, was attacked by French privateers, which succeeded in capturing

all except the Royal vessel.

[Illustration: PORTSMOUTH HARBOUR--1912.]

This led to the organisation of a “fleet” and a successful campaign

against the privateers. The necessity of Sea Power began to be

realised again, and this so far bore fruit that in the reign of Henry

V no less than 1,500 ships were (it is said) collected in the Solent,

for an invasion of France. But since some of these were hired from the

Dutch and as every English vessel of over twenty tons was requisitioned

by the King, the large number got together does not necessarily

indicate the existence of any very great amount of naval power. This

fleet, however, indicated a revival of sea usage.

In 1417, large ships known as “Dromons” were built at Southampton,

and bought for the Crown, but these were more of the nature of “Royal

Yachts” than warships. The principal British naval base at and about

this period was at Calais, of which, at the time of the War of the

Roses, the Earl of Warwick was the governor.

The first act of the Regency of Henry VI was to sell by auction

such ships as had been bought for the Crown under Henry V. The duty

of keeping the Channel free from pirates was handed over to London

merchants, who were paid a lump sum to do this, but did not do it at

all effectively.

Edward IV made some use of a Fleet to secure his accession, or later

restoration. Richard III would seem to have realised the utility of a

Fleet, and during his short reign he did his best to begin a revival

of “the Navy” by buying some ships, which, however, he hired out to

merchants for trade purposes; and so, at the critical moment, he had

apparently nothing available to meet the mild over-sea expedition of

Henry of Richmond. So--right up to _comparatively_ recent times--there

was never any Royal Navy in the proper meaning of the word, nor even

any organised attempt to create an equivalent, except on the part of

those two Kings who we are always told were the worst Kings England

ever had--John and Richard III. Outside these two, there is not the

remotest evidence that anyone ever dreamed of “naval power,” “sea

power,” or anything of the sort, till Henry VII became King of England,

and founded the British Navy on the entirely unromantic principle that

it was a financial economy.

Such was the real and prosaic birth of the British Navy in relatively

recent times. It was made equally prosaic in 1910 by Lord Charles

Beresford, when he said, “Battleships are cheaper than war.”

There is actually no poetry about the British Navy. There never has

been--it will be all the better for us if there never is. It is

merely a business-like institution founded to secure these islands

from foreign invasion. Dibden in his own day, Kipling in ours, have

done their best to put in the poetry. It has been pretty and nice and

splendid. But over and above it all I put the words of a stoker whose

name I never knew, “It’s just this--do your blanky job!”

That is the real British Navy. Henry VII did not create this watchword,

nor anyone else, except perhaps Nelson.

III.

THE TUDOR PERIOD AND BIRTH OF A REGULAR NAVY.

That Henry VII assimilated the lesson of the utility of naval power

is abundantly clear. Henry VII it was who first established a regular

navy as we now understand it. Previous to his reign, ships were

requisitioned as required for war purposes, and, the war being over,

reverted to the mercantile service. The liability of the Cinque Ports

to provide ships when called upon constituted a species of navy, and

certain ships were specially held as “Royal ships” for use as required,

but under Henry ships primarily designed for fighting purposes

appeared. The first of these ships was a vessel generally spoken of

as the “_Great Harry_,” though her real name seems to have been _The

Regent_, built in 1485. Incidentally this ship remained afloat till

1553, when she was burned by accident. She has been called “the first

ship of the Royal Navy”; and though her right to the honour has been

contested, she appears fully entitled to it. The real founder of the

Navy as we understand a navy to-day was Henry VII.

Another important event of this reign is that during it the first dry

dock was built at Portsmouth. Up till then there had been no facilities

for the underwater repair of ships other than the primitive method of

running them on to the mud and working on them at low tide. While

ships were small this was not a matter of much moment, but directly

larger vessels began to be built, it meant that efficient overhauls

were extremely difficult, if not impossible.

Yet another step that had far reaching results was the granting of a

bounty to all who built ships of over 120 tons. This bounty, which was

“per ton” and on a sliding scale, made the building of large private

ships more profitable and less risky than it had been before, and so

assisted in the creation of an important auxiliary navy as complement

to the Royal Navy.

The bounty system did more, however, than encourage the building of

large private ships. The loose method of computing tonnage already

referred to, became more elastic still when a bounty was at stake; and

even looser when questions of the ship being hired per ton for State

purposes was at issue. Henry VII, who was nothing if not economical,

felt the pinch; the more so, as just about this time Continentals with

ships for hire became alarmingly scarce. Something very like a “corner

in ships” was created by English merchants.

Henry VII was thus, by circumstances beyond his own control, forced

into creating a permanent navy in self defence. He died with a “navy”

of eighteen ships, of which, however, only two were genuinely entitled

to be called “H.M.S.” He had to hire the others!

This foundation of the “regular navy” is not at all romantic. But it is

how a regular navy came to be founded--by force of circumstances. Henry

VII, “founder of the Royal Navy,” undoubtedly realized clearer than

any of his predecessors for many a hundred years the meaning of naval

power. But--his passion for economy and the advantage taken by such of

his subjects as had ships available when hired ships were scarce, had

probably a deal more to do with the institution of a regular navy than

any preconceived ideas. In two words--“Circumstances compelled.” And

that is how things stood when Henry VIII came to the throne.

The nominal permanent naval power established by Henry VII consisted

of fifty-seven ships, and the crew of each was twenty-one men and a

boy, so that the _Great Harry_, which must have required a considerably

larger crew, would seem to have been an experimental vessel. The actual

force, however, was but two fighting ships proper.

Under Henry VIII, however, the policy of monster ships was vigorously

upheld, and one large ship built in the early years of his reign--the

_Sovereign_--was reputed to be “the largest ship in Europe.” In 1512

the King reviewed at Portsmouth “twenty-five ships of great burthen,”

which had been collected in view of hostilities with France. These

ships having been joined by others, and amounting to a fleet of

forty-four sail, encountered a French fleet of thirty-nine somewhere

off the coast of Brittany.

This particular battle is mainly noteworthy owing to the fact that the

two flagships grappled, and while in this position one of them caught

fire. The flames being communicated to the other, both blew up. This

catastrophe so appalled the two sides that they abandoned the battle

by mutual consent; from which it is to be presumed that the nautical

mind of the day had, till then, little realised that risks were run by

carrying explosives.

The English, however, were less impressed by the catastrophe than the

enemy, since next day they rallied and captured or sank most of the

still panic-stricken French ships.

Henry replaced the lost flagship by a still larger ship, the _Grace de

Dieu_, a two-decker with the lofty poop and forecastle of the period.

She was about 1,000 tons. Tonnage, however, was so loosely calculated

in those days that measurements are excessively approximate.

When first cannon were introduced, they were (as previously remarked)

merely a substitute for the old-fashioned catapults, and discharged

stones for some time till more suitable projectiles were evolved. Like

the catapults they were placed on the poop or forecastle, as portholes

had not then been introduced. These were invented by a Frenchman, one

Descharges, of Brest. By means of portholes it was possible to mount

guns on the main deck and so increase their numbers.

[Illustration: THE “GRACE DE DIEU” 1515.]

Although the earliest portholes were merely small circular holes which

did not allow of any training, and though the idea of them was probably

directly derived from the loopholes in castle walls, the influence of

the porthole on naval architecture was soon very great indeed. By means

of this device a new relation between size and power was established,

hence the “big displacements” which began to appear at this time. The

hole for a gun muzzle to protrude through, quickly became an aperture

allowing of training the gun on any ordinary bearing in English built

ships. The English (for a very long time it was English only)

realisation of the possibilities of the porthole in Henry VIII’s

reign contributed very materially to the defeat of the Spanish Armada

some decades later. Indeed, it is no exaggeration to say that the

porthole was to that era what the torpedo has been in the present one.

Introduced about 1875 as a trivial alternative to the gun, in less

than forty years the torpedo came to challenge the gun in range to an

extent that as early as 1905 or thereabouts began profoundly to affect

all previous ideas of naval tactics, and that by 1915 has changed them

altogether!

Another great change of these Henry VIII days was in the form of the

ships.[6] At this era they began to be built with “tumble-home” sides,

instead of sides slanting outwards upwards, and inwards downwards as

heretofore. With the coming of the porthole came the decline of the

cross-bow as a naval arm. In the pre-porthole days every record speaks

of “showers of arrows,” and the gun appears to have been a species of

accessory. In the early years of the Sixteenth Century it became the

main armament, and so remained unchallenged till the present century

and the coming of the long-range torpedo.

Henry VIII’s reign is also remarkable for the first institution of

those “cutting out” expeditions which were afterwards to become such a

particular feature of British methods of warfare. This first attempt

happened in the year 1513, when Sir Edward Howard, finding the French

fleet lying in Brest Harbour refusing to come out, “collected boats

and barges” and attacked them with those craft. The attempt was not

successful, but it profoundly affected subsequent naval history.

Therefrom the French were impressed with the idea that if a fleet lay

in a harbour awaiting attack it acquired an advantage thereby. The idea

became rooted in the French mind that to make the enemy attack under

the most disadvantageous circumstances was the most wise of policies.

That “the defensive is compelled to await attack, compelled to allow

the enemy choice of the moment” was overlooked!

From this time onward England was gradually trained by France into

the role of the attacker, and the French more and more sank into the

defensive attitude. Many an English life was sacrificed between the

“discovery of the attack” in the days of Henry VIII, and its triumphant

apotheosis when centuries later Nelson won the Battle of the Nile; but

the instincts born in Henry’s reign, on the one hand to fight with any

advantage that the defensive might offer, on the other hand to attack

regardless of these advantages, are probably the real key to the secret

of later victories.

The Royal ships at this period were manned by voluntary enlistment,

supplemented by the press-gang as vacancies might dictate. The pay of

the mariner was five shillings a month; but petty officers, gunners and

the like received additional pickings out of what was known as “dead

pay.” By this system the names of dead men, or occasionally purely

fancy names, were on the ship’s books, and the money drawn for these

was distributed in a fixed ratio. The most interesting feature of Henry

VII and Henry VIII’s navies is the presence in them of a number of

Spaniards, who presumably acted as instructors. These received normal

pay of seven shillings a month plus “dead pay.”

The messing of the crews was by no means indifferent. It was as follows

per man:--

Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday: ¾ lb. beef and ½ lb. bacon.

Monday, Wednesday, Saturday: Four herrings and two pounds of cheese.

Friday: To every mess of four men, half a cod, ten herrings, one

pound of butter and one pound of cheese.

There was also a daily allowance of one pound of bread or biscuit.

The liquid allowance was either beer, or a species of grog consisting

of one part of sack to two of water. Taking into account the value of

money in those days and the scale of living on shore at the time, the

conditions of naval life were by no means bad, though complaints of the

low pay were plentiful enough. Probably, few received the full measure

of what on paper they were entitled to.

Henry VIII died early in 1547. In the subsequent reigns of Edward VI

and Mary, the Navy declined, and little use was made of it except for

some raiding expeditions.

When Elizabeth came to the throne the regular fleet had dwindled to

very small proportions, and, war being in progress, general permission

was given for privateering as the only means of injuring the enemy. It

presently degenerated into piracy and finally had to be put down by the

Royal ships.

No sooner, however, was the war over than the Queen ordered a special

survey to be made of the Navy. New ships were laid down and arsenals

established for the supply of guns and gunpowder, which up to that

time had been imported from Germany. Full advantage was taken of

the privateering spirit, the erstwhile pirates being encouraged to

undertake distant voyages. In many of these enterprises the Queen

herself had a personal financial interest. She thus freed the country

from various turbulent spirits who were inconvenient at home, and at

one and the same time increased her own resources by doing so.

There is every reason to believe that this action of Elizabeth’s was

part of a well-designed and carefully thought out policy. The type of

ship suitable for distant voyages and enterprises was naturally bound

to become superior to that which was merely evolved from home service.

The type of seamen thus bred was also necessarily bound to be better

than the home-made article. Elizabeth can hardly have failed to realise

these points also.

To the _personnel_ of the regular Navy considerable attention was

also given. Pay was raised to 6/8 per month for the seamen, and 5/- a

month with 4/- a month for clothing for soldiers afloat. Messing was

also increased to a daily ration of one pound of biscuit, a gallon of

beer, with two pounds of beef per man four days out of the seven, and a

proportionate amount of fish on the other three days. Subsequently, and

just previous to the Armada, the pay of seamen rose to 10/- a month,

with a view to inducing the better men not to desert.

The regular navy was thus by no means badly provided for as things

went in those days; while service with “gentlemen adventurers” offered

attractions to a very considerable potential reserve, and so England

contained a large population which, from one cause and another, was

available for sea service. To these circumstances was it due that the

Spanish Armada, when it came, never had the remotest possibility of

success. It was doomed to destruction the day that Elizabeth first gave

favour to the “gentlemen adventurers.”

Of these adventurers the greatest of all was Francis Drake, who in 1577

made his first long voyage with five ships to the Pacific Ocean. Drake,

alone, in the _Pelican_, succeeded in reaching the Pacific and carrying

out his scheme of operations, which--not to put too fine a point on

it--consisted of acts of piracy pure and simple against the Spaniards.

He returned to England after an absence of nearly three years, during

which he circumnavigated the globe.

There is little doubt that Drake in this voyage, and others like him in

similar expeditions, learned a great deal about the disadvantages of

small size in ships. Drake, however, learned another thing also. Up to

this day the crew of a ship had consisted of the captain and a certain

military element; also the master, who was responsible for a certain

number of “mariners.” The former were concerned entirely with fighting

the ship--the latter entirely with manœuvring it.

This system of specialisation, awkward as it appears thus baldly

stated, may have worked well enough in ordinary practice. It did not

differ materially from the differentiation between deck hands and the

engineering departments, which to a greater or less extent is very

marked in every navy of the present day.

Drake, however, started out with none too many men, and it was not long

before he lost some of those he had and found himself short-handed.

His solution of the difficulty is in his famous phrase, “I would have

the gentlemen haul with the mariners.” How far this was a matter of

expediency, how far the revelation of a new policy, is a matter of

opinion. It must certainly have been outside the purview of Elizabeth.

But out of it gradually came that every English sailor knew how to

fight his ship and how to sail her too, and this amounted to doubling

the efficiency of the crew of any ship at one stroke.

Of Drake himself, the following contemporary pen-picture, from a letter

written by one of his Spanish victims, Don Franciso de Zarate,[7]

explains almost everything:--

“He received me favourably, and took me to his room, where he made

me seated and said to me: ‘I am a friend to those who speak the

truth, that is what will have the most weight with me. What silver

or gold does this ship bring?’

“... We spoke together a great while, until the dinner-hour. He

told me to sit beside him and treated me from his dishes, bidding

me have no fear, for my life and goods were safe; for which I

kissed his hands.

“This English General is a cousin of John Hawkins; he is the same

who, about five years ago, took the port of Nombre de Dios; he is

called Francis Drake; a man of some five and thirty years, small of

stature and red-bearded, one of the greatest sailors on the sea,

both from skill and power of commanding. His ship carried about 400

tons, is swift of sail, and of a hundred men, all skilled and in

their prime, and all as much experienced in warfare as if they were

old soldiers of Italy. Each one, in particular, _takes great pains

to keep his arms clean_;[8] he treats them with affection, and

they treat him with respect. I endeavoured to find out whether the

General was liked, and everyone told me he was adored.”

Less favourable pictures of Drake have been penned, and there is no

doubt that some of his virtues have been greatly exaggerated. At the

present day there is perhaps too great a tendency to reverse the

process. Stripped of romance, many of his actions were petty, while

those of some of his fellow adventurers merit a harsher name. Hawkins,

for instance, was hand-in-glove with Spanish smugglers and a slave

trader. Many of the victories of the Elizabethan “Sea-Kings” were

really trifling little affairs, magnified into an importance which they

never possessed.

But, when all is said and done, it is in these men that we find the

birth of a sea spirit which still lingers on, despite that other

insular spirit previously referred to--the natural tendency of

islanders to regard the water itself as a bulwark, instead of the

medium on which to meet and defeat the enemy.

The Spanish, already considerably incensed by the piratical acts of the

English “gentlemen adventurers,” presently found a further cause of

grievance in the assistance rendered by Elizabeth to their revolting

provinces in the Netherlands. Drake had not returned many years from

his famous voyage when it became abundantly clear that the Spaniards no

longer intended quietly to suffer from English interference.

Spain at that time was regarded as the premier naval power of Europe.

Her superiority was more mythical than actual, for reasons which will

later on be referred to: however, her commercial oversea activities

were very great. The wealth which she wrung from the Indies--though

probably infinitely less than its supposed value--was sufficient to

enable her to equip considerable naval forces, certainly larger ones

numerically than any which England alone was able to bring against

them.

Knowledge of the fact that Spain was preparing the Armada for an attack

on England, led to the sailing of Drake in April, 1587, with a fleet

consisting of four large and twenty-six smaller ships, for the hire of

which the citizens of London were nominally or actually responsible.

His real instructions are not known, but there is little question that,

as in all similar expeditions, he started out knowing that his success

would be approved of, although in the event of any ill-success or

awkward questions, he would be publicly disavowed.

Reaching Cadiz, he destroyed 100 store ships which he found there;

and then proceeding to the Tagus, offered battle to the Spanish war

fleet. The Spanish admiral, however, declined to come out--a fact

which of itself altogether discredits the popular idea about the vast

all-powerful ships of Spain, and the little English ships, which,

in the Armada days, could have done nothing against them but for a

convenient tempest. On account of this expedition of Drake’s, the

sailing of the Armada was put off for a year. So far as stopping the

enterprise was concerned, Drake’s expedition was a failure. Armada

preparations still went on.

It is by no means to be supposed that the Armada in its conception was

the foolhardy enterprise that on the face of things it looks to have

been. The idea of it was first mooted by the Duke of Alva so long ago

as 1569. In 1583 it became a settled project in the able hands of the

Marquis of Santa Cruz, who alone among the Spaniards was not more or

less afraid of the English. In the battle of Tercera in 1583, certain

ships, which if not English were at any rate supposed to be, had shown

the white feather. Santa Cruz assumed therefrom that the English were

easily to be overwhelmed by a sufficiently superior force, and he

designed a scheme whereby he would use 556 ships and an army of 94,222

men.

The British battle fleet, Vol. 1 (of 2) · 第 2 / 21 段