ANCIENT SHIPS OF PHŒNICIA, GREECE, AND ROME.[10]
It is almost impossible to exaggerate the potent influence exercised
by the Phœnicians, as successors of the Egyptians, in being the
maritime nation of the world. Happy in their origin by the Persian
Gulf, fortunate, too, in having had the Egyptians before them, and
so benefiting by the knowledge and experience of the latter, they
had developed and prospered through the centuries parallel with
the Dynastic peoples. Much that we should wish to know about the
Phœnicians is wanting, but we have more than adequate material for
the means of realising something of the range and intensity of their
sway.
Migrating, like the first Egyptians, westward, they had settled
around the Levant, to the north of Palestine. Already, in prehistoric
days, they had expanded still further westward into Greece,
founding Thebes in Bœotia, and teaching the barbarian inhabitants
of that country the elements of civilisation. Everywhere in the
ancient world, from remote ages until a century or two before the
Incarnation, Phœnician ships were as numerous in the waters of the
Mediterranean, as British vessels in all parts of the world are
to-day. Possessing a genius for trade, a keen love for the sea
and for travel, they had the complete mastery of the commerce and
fisheries of the Ægean Sea, until as late as the eighth century
B.C. They dragged up from the waters its shell fish to make purple
dies; they burrowed into the earth to extract silver; they opened
up commerce wherever it was possible, exchanging such products of
the East as woven fabrics and highly-wrought metal work. They built
factories on islands and promontories, and gave to the towns along
the coast-line—especially of the eastern side of Greece—Phœnician
names. Troubling but little about inland situations, they made their
strong settlements to be their island homes.
Although eventually the Phœnicians were driven out of the Ægean,
yet their effect on the inhabitants of Greece was a lasting one. As
Greece had received from the Phœnicians her first culture, so she
had adopted their religion and their species of ships. We shall see,
presently, how very similar the ships of the Greeks and Phœnicians
were. But before proceeding thus far, let us remember that, though
the Phœnicians were developing while the Egyptians were declining,
yet, indubitably, they owed a vast amount to the civilisation of
the latter. Why the Phœnicians, more than any other people, were
influenced by the Egyptians is not hard to understand if we realise
that they alone were allowed to trade to the mouths of the Nile. The
Egyptians guarded their kingdom inviolate against all other merchants
of the Mediterranean, although Achaian pirates from the North at
times swept down to the Nile Delta. Not until the Twenty-Sixth
Dynasty, when Egypt was reunited, and again made a strong kingdom,
were the Milesian and other Greek traders allowed to begin commercial
operations with the land of the Pharaohs.
Broadly speaking, the Phœnician ships were identical with those of
about the time of Ramases III. (1200 B.C.). The fixed yard, the
absence of boom, the brails suspending from the yard, the sweep
of the lines aft to the overhanging stern, the double steering
oar—these characteristics, which in the last chapter we left with
the Egyptians, are all seen in the ships of the Phœnicians. The
chief noticeable difference is that the latter have altered the bow
so that she has a ram. It was the Phœnicians, too, who invented the
bireme and trireme in order that speed might be obtained through
increasing the height without adding to the length of the ship. The
ships become somewhat larger than those of the Egyptians, for the
reason that they have to voyage much further afield. Consequently the
sail is sometimes found bigger, too, and instead of four brails, six
is the usual number seen. The Phœnician bireme had as many as eleven
or twelve rowers each side, sails being only used in a fair wind,
but never at all in battle. In addition to its crew of seamen, a
Phœnician trireme often carried thirty marines, sometimes of a nation
different from the Phœnicians.
Right to the end, even when decline had at last taken the place of
a rise, the Phœnicians remained good sailormen. Whenever a superior
foe overcame them, they were used by their new master with deadly
effect against his next enemy. We have an instance of this in the
fifth century B.C., when, Phœnicia and Cyprus having been defeated
by Cambyses, the latter utilised the strong Phœnician fleet against
Amasis, the Egyptian king. And again, in the following century,
when Xerxes had enforced the most rigorous conscription, and every
maritime people in his dominions had been compelled to put forth its
full strength, we find it recorded that the most trustworthy portion
of the fleet, far superior to the Egyptians, was composed of ships
of the Phœnician cities, the kings of Tyre and Sidon appearing in
person, each at the head of his own contingent. Other things being
equal, that side was usually victorious which had the Phœnicians with
them. For the Phœnicians had the instinct of sailormen; they knew how
to build and design their ships to withstand a fight; they had the
ships, they had the men, and, what was more important still, they
knew how to use both.
But the Phœnicians were more than mere traders or fighters: they
were the world’s greatest explorers—until the fifteenth and
sixteenth centuries of our era. It was they who voyaged out of the
Mediterranean across the turbulent Bay of Biscay to Cornwall and
perhaps Ireland. I am of the firm opinion that they also continued
their travels further eastward across the North Sea: we will deal
with that, however, in the next chapter. At any rate about the
beginning of the sixth century B.C. they circumnavigated Africa,
obeying the orders of Neco, an Egyptian king, “who”—to continue in
Hakluyt’s Elizabethan English—“(for trial’s sake) sent a fleet of
Phœnicians downe the Red sea: who setting forth in the Autumne and
sailing Southward till they had the Sunne at noone-tide upon their
sterbourd (that is to say, having crossed the Æquinoctial and the
Southerne tropique) after a long Navigation, directed their course
to the North, and in the space of 3. yeeres environed all Africk,
passing home through the Gaditan streites, and arriving in Egypt.”[11]
It was the Phœnicians, too, who with the Israelites in the time of
Solomon sailed down the Red Sea to Eastern Africa, Persia, and
Beluchistan. Some, indeed, have thought that the Phœnicians sailed
out of the Mediterranean and keeping their course to the westward
were the first to discover America. Whether this is true or not is a
matter for dispute, but it is quite possible. I have seen a little
seven-ton cutter yacht that came across on her own bottom, and she
is not half the size of the old Phœnician ships. Nor had she a few
dozen galley slaves on board to pull at the oars: still less the room
wherein to stow them.[12] There is, then, nothing at all improbable
in the Phœnicians having gone so far afield. They were not pressed
for time, and could afford to wait till the weather suited them.
Given a fair wind they could not have had better shaped canvas for
the voyage than theirs. Every sailor will tell you that there is
nothing to beat the squaresail for ocean passages, and those who have
tried the fore-and-aft rig for deep-sea sailing have lived to wish
they had had a rectangular sail set across the mast, so as to avoid
the fear of gybing as in a fore-and-after. Lord Brassey, when, in
the famous race across the Atlantic in 1905, he commanded his own
yacht the _Sunbeam_, afterwards endorsed these opinions about the
respective merits of the square-sail and of the fore-and-aft rig.
Moreover, the Phœnicians had ample brails for reefing. True, the ship
would roll considerably with so shallow a keel, but her length would
be of some assistance, and no doubt the skipper would see to it that
the crew steadied her with their oars.
Either from the Egyptians or the Phœnicians—but almost certainly from
the latter—the people down the east coast of Africa learnt the art of
navigation pretty thoroughly, for we know from Hakluyt that when, at
the end of the fifteenth century of our era, Vasco da Gama doubled
the Cape of Good Hope and called at the East African ports, he found
that the arts of navigation were as well understood by the Eastern
seamen as by himself. This would seem to imply that these Africans
had years ago reached the state of advancement in sailing a ship
already possessed by the more civilised parts of the world.
Our evidence as to the actual shape and rig of the Phœnician craft
is of two kinds. Firstly, thanks to the discoveries of the late Sir
Austin Layard and his successors, we have one or two representations
of ships. One of these is a rowing boat pure and simple, very tubby,
and obviously never intended to be used with a sail. Secondly, we
have the evidence of coins of the towns of Phœnicia. I have been so
fortunate as to be able to reproduce two of the latter, both being of
Sidon.
With regard to the first class, these date back to a period of about
700 B.C. On a relief belonging to the Palace of Sennacherib found
near Nineveh, and now in the British Museum, and also on a relief of
the Palace of Khorsabad, built by King Sargon, there are depicted
ancient Phœnician ships. This latter is now in the Louvre. But these
reliefs do not tell us very much, though they are of assistance
if read in conjunction with the coins. The upper deck of the ship
from the Sennacherib Palace was reserved for the combatants while
fighting, and for persons of quality when making a passage. We see
the latter reclining in the sunshine, and the look-out man in the
bows. A mast with forestay, braces and sail furled to the yard, would
be also on the top deck, but these would be of no considerable size.
A row of shields ran round as a protection against the enemy’s darts,
and the stem ended in a powerful ram. At least seventeen oarsmen in
two banks on each side worked the ship, while a couple of steering
oars, after the manner of the Egyptians, kept her on her course. This
was a bireme for war purposes.
[Illustration: FIG. 9. PHŒNICIAN SHIP.
_From a coin of Sidon_, _c._ 450 B.C.]
But the ship depicted in the Palace of Khorsabad, while not showing
any sail, indicates very clearly a mast with stays leading fore and
aft to the bow (which ends in a horse’s head) and to the stern. The
shape of this craft, if it was anything like the Phœnician ships,
which came to Northern Europe, would certainly seem to prove that
the Phœnicians continued their voyage further east to Norway; for
here, with the high tapering stern and bow, and the decoration of the
latter, is what could very easily be taken for the early design of
the Viking ships. She is entirely different from the Egyptian type of
ship, though she has evidently been based on the latter.
Passing now to the two coins of Sidon, these are both probably of
about the year 450 B.C. Fig. 9 is from a coin in the British Museum.
It is a little indistinct, but the Egyptian stern is still seen,
though the ram, as already referred to, is at the bows. The double
steering oars are faintly visible, though the long line of shields,
which survived well into the middle ages, is clearly defined. The
curve of the keel-line is very beautiful, and she must have been very
fast, as indeed we know from historians similar shaped vessels in
Greece were. Although such a ship was of great length, yet by reason
of the curve of the keel, having the greatest depth amidships, and
because of the design of the stern, she would probably steer pretty
easily. This, of course, was essential in the naval manœuvres that
were undertaken in fights. As to the sails, if the reader has already
followed us in the previous chapter, these call for but little
explanation again. The yard is ordinarily kept fixed. The sails hang
apparently in two sections like so many curtains, being divided at
the mast. The same peculiarity is to be seen in the Irrawadi junks
referred to previously.
For shortening sail in a blow, or for stowing when coming to anchor,
the six brails seen depending from the yard would be wound round
the sail, once or twice, by sending a couple of men to the top of
the yard, the crew below throwing up the rope to be passed round
sail and yard. It was a clumsy method, but it sufficed. The reader
may remember that the Dutchmen have used this principle since the
sixteenth century, and the Thames barge of to-day still follows
the general idea. The only real difference is that in the Dutchman
and Thames barge, being fore-and-aft rigged, the brail comes
horizontally—at right angles to the mast—instead of vertically, and
parallel to the mast, whilst, of course, going aloft is unnecessary.
Even this Dutch brailing system was derived from that used by the
lateen-sails of the Mediterranean. (See the mizzen of the _Santa
Maria_, in Fig. 45.) In detail, too, there is a slight difference,
for the modern ships we are mentioning have a ring, or fair-lead, for
the brail to come through, one end being fastened to the sail, the
standing part passing through the ring on the leach of the sail and
so back to the mast.
What we have said regarding this illustration is applicable also to
Fig. 10. But happily this shows us some important details in the
stern. First, the staff with crescent-top denotes that she was the
admiral’s flagship. The curved-line immediately below represents part
of the structure called the _aphlaston_ (ἀ + Φλαζω = I crush). This
was placed as a protection for the ship against the terrible damage
that might be done by the enemy charging into her and ramming her.
A still better example of this detail will be noticed in Fig. 14.
One can easily trace this as having come from the Egyptian ships of
the eighteenth dynasty that went to Punt. Immediately below this, in
Fig. 10 again, and hanging down, may be either a protection against
the enemy or, as will be seen in the ship of Odysseus (Fig. 16), a
kind of decoration resembling some rich carpet, to ornament the stern
where the admiral was located in authority. This second Phœnician
illustration is from a coin in the Hunterian Collection, Glasgow.
[Illustration: FIG. 10. PHŒNICIAN SHIP.
_From a coin of Sidon_, _c._ 450 B.C.]
It has been said that some of the larger Phœnician ships were as long
as 300 feet, though this statement needs to be taken with caution. At
any rate, it is accurate to describe them as being long, straight,
narrow, and flat-bottomed, and as carrying sometimes as many as
fifty oarsmen. Although the crescent-shape had for so long a time
been almost a convention for the design of the ship, yet the nation
that could found so important and prosperous a colony as Carthage,
and that built ships both for Egyptians and Persians, would not be
likely to be held down too tightly by custom where their own clever
genius and invaluable practical experience taught them otherwise. By
completely modifying the bow as it had been customary in the Egyptian
ships, the Phœnicians started a new fashion in naval architecture
which, permeating through Greek and Roman history, is still found in
the galleys of the Adriatic as late as the eighteenth century of our
era. Those bows, with or without the ram, even on a Maltese sailing
galley, show their ancient Phœnician ancestry in an undeniable manner.
Our information regarding ancient Greek and Roman ships is derived
from the following sources: the writings of Homer, Herodotus,
Thucydides, Cicero, Cæsar, Tacitus, Xenophon, Lucian, Pliny, Livy,
Æschylus, Aristophanes, Euripides, Plutarch, Sophocles, and others;
the inventories of the Athenian arsenals of the fourth century B.C.;
ancient Greek vases; reliefs discovered in Southern Europe at various
periods; monuments and tombs; mosaics found in North Africa, ancient
coins; the Voyages of St. Paul; and finally ancient remains such as
fibulæ, terra-cotta models, and earthenware lamps.
From these diverse channels of information we find that the
Phœnicians who invented the bireme and the trireme, who had adopted
the Egyptian stern and rigging for their ships, handed these features
on to the Greeks, and they, in turn, to the Romans. The earliest
Greek ships were afloat in the thirteenth century B.C., and by about
the year 800 B.C. maritime matters had taken the greatest hold on
the dwellers in the Greek peninsula and the western coasts of Asia
Minor. The fierce race for wealth which to-day we see going on in
America had its precedent in the eighth century before the Christian
era in the north-eastern corner of the Mediterranean. Very quickly
the contestants found that the shortest route to affluence was _viâ_
the sea. Indeed, following the example of their first teachers,
the Phœnicians, so zealously did they keep to their ships that the
Milesian sea-traders formed a party in the State known as “the men
never off the water.” In the seventh century, if not earlier, the
Greeks were prosperously fishing in the Black Sea; and though the
dangers of rounding Mount Athos in the Ægean were in those days to
some extent analogous to the perils which a sailing ship to-day
suffers in doubling Cape Horn, yet in the fourth century B.C.,
Xerxes, rather than risk a series of shipwrecks to his fleet in the
stormy seas at the foot of this mountain, had the sandy isthmus
connecting the mainland pierced with a canal.
Greece lacked the advantage to be found in a Tigris, a Euphrates,
or Nile. Her rivers are so short, and their descent to the sea so
rapid, that navigation was utterly impossible. But for what she
missed in rivers she was amply compensated in respect of the peculiar
formation of the coast. Endowed with the same blessing that makes
the west coast of Scotland so attractive (but happily without the
drawback of the Atlantic immediately outside the lochs), Greece had
her delightful inlets and arms of the seas running far up into the
land. The peaceful waters of the Grecian archipelago, the mildness of
its climate, the absence of tides, the comparative smoothness of the
water—except for occasional squalls with a nasty short sea—these were
factors every bit as encouraging for the art of navigation as ever
the conditions that smiled on the Egyptians. In some respects they
were more stimulating in proportion as the sea makes a better sailor
than even the biggest river. Add to this that there was at hand an
ample supply of good wood and that the southern shores of the Euxine
were rich not merely in timber but in iron, copper and red-lead.
Could the shipbuilder’s paradise possibly be more complete?
There was just one drawback from which, as it seems to me, the
nations on the Mediterranean compared with the inhabitants of
Northern Europe have always suffered: even till to-day, or at
any rate up to the introduction of steam, the tendency of the
Mediterraneans has been to build sailing boats rather than sailing
ships. The very conditions that prompted naval architecture at
all limited their scope. I mean, of course, that whereas along
the coasts washed by the Baltic, the North Sea and the English
Channel, the sea-farers had either to build a ship or nothing, the
case in the Mediterranean was different. The treacherous waters of
the North Sea or Baltic, the existence of dangerous sand banks and
rushing tides, were an unfair match for delicately designed craft
accustomed to sun-speckled seas. Although the Viking craft had their
full complement of rowers, yet they were far abler ships than the
over-oared boats of Greece and those of the early days of Rome. Right
down to the time of the Spanish Armada, and after, the tendency was
ever for the galley or galleass—the _rowed_ ship rather than the
_sailing_ ship—to linger as long as possible, whereas in the North
the reverse has been the case. I attribute the prevalence of the
“galley” type of craft to two causes—the geographical conditions
of Southern Europe and the abundance of slaves. When any amount of
physical rowing power could be got with such ease and absence of
expense, it was not likely that the sailing ship, _per se_, would
advance. I think there can be no doubt at all that this condition
of affairs kept back both the rig and design of shipping for very
many years. The Southerner’s first aim was to create a craft that
would be fast; the Northerner’s object was to have a ship that would
be seaworthy. The difference between being able to ride out a gale
and that of being able to manœuvre with all possible despatch in
comparatively sheltered waters, will be found to be the basis of
the characteristic features that separate the craft of Northern and
Southern Europe.
[Illustration: FIG 11. GREEK SHIP.
_From Bœotian fibula of the eighth century_ B.C.]
In Fig. 11 we have some indication of a Greek sailing ship or boat of
about the eighth century, when, as we have just said, there existed
the great passion for the sea as a means to wealth. This illustration
has been sketched from a Bœotian fibula, made of bronze, and now
in the British Museum. The boat has not the appearance of being
particularly seaworthy, although it is perfectly clear that she is a
sailing craft. The _aphlaston_ already alluded to will be noticed at
the stern. The bow shows the Phœnician influence with its ram-like
features, and this characteristic continued to exist with similar
prominence till at any rate the beginning of the Christian era.
Opinions differ as to whether the teeth-like projections at bow
and stern are just the extending horizontal timbers. Personally, I
believe they are separate fixtures with bronze or iron tips, those at
the bow for preventing the ram going too far into the enemy’s ship;
those at the stern affording a protection against being rammed by
the enemy. The forestay leads down to what is apparently a primitive
forecastle, and the man in the stern is standing on a platform, but
so crude is the draughtsmanship that it would be unsafe to affirm
that this was raised as high as the forecastle. Some have thought
that this stern arrangement may denote a latticed cabin, but this
seems doubtful. However, it is quite clear that the skipper is either
steering or rowing with his foot as the primitive gondolier, while
his mate is busy as the look-out. The design at the top of the mast
has been thought to be a lantern, but it might also be a flag.
[Illustration: FIG. 12. GREEK WAR GALLEY.
_From a vase_, _c._ 500 B.C.]
Although not shown in this example, many of the early Greek ships had
two forestays and a backstay. The mast was supported at its foot by a
prop, and when lowered it lay aft in a rest, being raised and lowered
by means of the forestays, like the custom of the Thames barge and
the Norfolk wherry-man. Fig. 12 represents a war-galley taken from
a Greek vase of about 500 B.C. It will be found in the Second Vase
Room of the British Museum. The sail (ἱστίον) will be seen hanging
from the yard, together with the brails as already described. The
two halyards come down on either side of the mast. We should presume
that, having the brails, the Greek ships were accustomed to reefing:
but we have actual evidence from the expression used by Aristophanes
“ἄκροισι χρῆσθαι ἱστίος,” “to keep the sails close-reefed.” Similarly
Euripides has the phrase “ἄκροισι λαίφουσ κραπέδοις,” “under
close-reefed sails” (lit. “with the outermost edges of the sail”).
The reefing method is better shown in Fig. 13. If it came on to blow
two hands would be sent aloft to go out along the yard. The brails
one by one would be thrown up to the men, who would pass each brail
once or thrice round the yard, according to the number of reefs
required to be taken in. Fig. 13 shows a ship close-reefed. That
this is no fanciful picture will be seen by the reader who cares to
compare the relief on the tomb of Naevoleja Tyche at Pompei,[13] on
which will be noticed one man on deck getting ready the brails to
throw them up, while two other members of the crew are already out
on the yard, and two more still are climbing up the rigging to help
them, probably by taking up the ends of the brails.
Each yard was composed of two spars lashed together as in the Maltese
galley and Japanese junk of to-day. The Latin word for a yard was
always used in the plural—_antennæ_—to signify the two parts lashed
in one. The boar’s head—a very favourite symbol for this purpose in
early ships—will be noticed at the bow of the war-galley in Fig. 12.
Above it is the forecastle, and running thence astern is a flying
deck, in order that the fighting men might not hinder the work of the
rowers. The two banks of oars will be immediately noticed. Astern
sits the steersman with his two steering-oars. That which hangs from
the stern below is the gangway for going aboard. The crew either
hauled their ships ashore at night, or, laying out anchors from the
bows seaward, carried stern ropes ashore to a rock. The gangway shown
was lowered to the land side, and the crew came aboard from aft.
The reader who is familiar with the Yorkshire cobble and the method
adopted for beaching by the fishermen on the coast above the Humber
will find additional interest in this.
The ship in Fig. 13 is a merchantman. The gangways are very
noticeable. So also is the Egyptian stern with the steering oars.
Amidships will be seen the wattled screens or washboards, acting
as bulwarks for keeping out the spray. A similar arrangement was
customary on the Viking ships, and remains to this day on Norwegian
ships of that kind. At the stern of both this ship and that of the
previous figure will be noticed an ornament resembling some plant.
Perhaps to us moderns the most striking feature of the ship is her
beautiful bow: indeed, had one not seen the actual vase, one might
easily have said that the design was taken from a modern schooner
bow. There are so many points about this merchant ship that attract
us in looking at her that we wonder, not unnaturally, if we have
advanced so much after all during these fourteen hundred years since
she was designed, for such a bow and such a stern would win applause
in any port.
[Illustration: FIG. 13. GREEK MERCHANTMAN.
_From a vase_, _c._ 500 B.C.]
The war-galleys were called longships, and the merchant vessels
roundships. This aptly describes the chief difference which separated
them. Whilst the former were essentially rowing-ships, depending
on oars only as auxiliaries, the merchant ship was primarily a
sailing vessel. Nevertheless she carried twenty oars, not so much
for progression as for turning the ship’s head off the wind, and
perhaps for getting under way and in entering harbour. These trading
ships were generally built throughout of pine, while the war galleys
were of fir, cypress, cedar, or pine, according to the nature of the
forests at hand. The merchantmen had keels of pine, but were provided
with false keels of oak when they had to be hauled ashore or put on
a slip for repairs or other reasons. It was the custom, however, to
keep the merchant ships afloat. We have already pointed out that
the galleys, on the contrary, were usually hauled ashore at night,
and since the friction of their keels would tend to split the wood
it was customary for these latter to be of oak. The masts and yards
and oars were of fir or pine. The timber for the keel was selected
with especial care, as indeed with so much hard wear and tear it was
necessary. Among other woods that were also used may be mentioned
plane, acacia, ash, elm, mulberry and lime—these being employed
especially for the interior of the hull. Alder, poplar and timber of
a balsam tree were used also. Like the Koryaks and the very earliest
inhabitants of Northern Europe, in some outlandish districts of the
Mediterranean the sides of the ship were of leather instead of wood,
but this would be only in cases where the inhabitants were still
unlearned or there was a scarcity of timber.
The ancients did not allow the timber to season thoroughly, because
it would become thereby too stiff to bend. Steaming boxes apparently
had not come into use in shipbuilding. However, after the tree was
felled it was allowed some time for drying, and then, when the ship
was built, some time elapsed for the wood to settle. The seams were
caulked with tow and other packing, being fixed with tar or wax,
the underbody of the ship being coated with wax, tar, or a combined
mixture, the wax being melted over a fire until soft enough to be
laid on with a brush. Seven kinds of paint were used, viz., purple,
violet, yellow, blue, two kinds of white, and green for pirates
in order that their resemblance to the colour of the waves might
make them less conspicuous. As we shall see in Fig. 21, elaborate
designs were painted along the sides, but this appears to have been
a later custom. The latest discoveries in Northern Africa show this
decoration round the side to be very frequent about the second
century of the Christian era. Earlier Greek ships had only patches
of colour on the bows, blue or purple, or vermilion; the rest of the
hull was painted with black tar like many of the coasters and fishing
smacks of to-day. The painting on the bows was probably to facilitate
the recognition of the direction taken by a vessel. Ships were not
copper-bottomed, but sometimes a sheathing of lead with layers of
tarred sail-cloth interposed between was affixed to the hull.
[Illustration: FIG. 14. STERN OF A GREEK SHIP (_c._ 600 B.C.).]
Nails of bronze and iron, and pegs of wood were used for fastening
the planking, the thickness of the latter varying from 2¼ to 5¼
inches. In order to fortify the warships against the terrible
shock of ramming, she had to be strengthened by wales running
longitudinally around her sides. Fig. 14 shows the stern of a Greek
ship of about the fifth century B.C. The wales or strengthening
timbers just mentioned will be easily seen. Fig. 15 exhibits another
example of the boar’s-head bow. These two illustrations are taken
from a coin of Phaselis, in Lycia, now preserved in the British
Museum. The _aphlaston_ will be immediately recognised in Fig. 14.
Like the Egyptian ships, these ancient vessels were also provided
with a stout cable—the ὑπόζωμα in Greek, _tormentum_ in Latin. The
spur for ramming was shod with metal—iron or copper—and was at first
placed below the water line, but subsequently came above it. The
space between the oar-ports was probably about three feet, each
oarsman occupying about five feet of room in width. A galley having
thirty-one seats for rowing would have about seventeen feet of beam.
The draught of these warships was nevertheless very small—perhaps not
more than four or five feet.
[Illustration: FIG. 15. BOAR’S-HEAD BOW OF A GREEK SHIP (_c._ 600
B.C.).]
The old method of naval warfare consisted in getting right up to the
enemy and engaging him alongside in a hand-to-hand fight, spears and
bows and arrows being used. There is an Etruscan vase in the British
Museum of the sixth century, which shows this admirably. At a later
date this method was altered in favour of ramming. The ship would
bear down on the enemy, and an endeavour would be made to come up to
him in such a way as to break off all his oars at one side, thereby
partially disabling him. But if the enemy were smart enough, he would
be able to go on rowing until the critical moment, when with great
dexterity, he would suddenly shorten his oars inwards. We have also
referred to the protection of the stern against the wicked onslaught
of the ram, but the ship ramming, lest her spur should penetrate too
far into the enemy’s stern and so break off, had usually, above,
a head which acted as a convenient buffer. But we must not forget
that sails and mast were lowered before battle, since the galley was
much more handy under oars alone. The excitement of a whole week’s
bumping races on the Isis must be regarded as very slow compared to
the strenuous plashing of oars, the shouts of the combatants, and
the ensuing thud and splintering of timbers that characterised a
Mediterranean engagement.
The reader will find in Fig. 16 one of the finest specimens of a
Greek sailing galley with one bank of oars. It is taken from a vase
in the Third Room in the British Museum, the date being about 500
B.C. As many as eight brails are shown here. The number of these
gradually became so great that we find in the Athenian inventories of
the fourth century B.C. that the rigging of a trireme and quadrireme
included eighteen brails. No doubt, as time went on, it was found
more convenient to be able to brail the sail up at closer intervals.
In the present illustration the sail is furled right up to the yard
and the rowers are doing all the work. Before passing on to another
point we must not fail to notice the fighting bridge or forecastle,
the shape of the blades of the oars, and the decoration of the
stern previously alluded to. A capital instance here is afforded
us of the ever watchful eye which we mentioned in our introductory
chapter as being a notable feature of the ancient ship. It is worth
while remarking, as showing the extent of this practice, that a
representation of an eye is still to be found as a distinguishing
attribute on the Portuguese fishing boats to-day.
[Illustration: FIG. 16. _The Ship of Odysseus._
_From a Greek vase of about_ 500 B.C.]
At the very first, on the Greek as on the Egyptian ships, thongs were
used for rowlocks, but subsequently holes were left, as seen in the
illustration, for the oars to be passed through. Because the mast
had to be taken down before battle, the war galleys were not fully
decked all over. Amidships she was open, but, as we have already seen
bridges or gangways extended fore and aft on either side of the
mast, so that the fighting crew should in no way interfere with the
oarsmen. Partial decks were also found at bow and stern. Even in the
time of Cæsar, we find that completely covered vessels were not in
general use. These flying bridges were placed on supports and then
covered with planks as shown in Fig. 12, leaving the intermediate
hold undecked. The sail was made of several pieces of white canvas
or cloth. Not infrequently they were coloured, a black sail being a
universal sign of mourning, while a purple or vermilion denoted the
ship of an admiral or sovereign. Just as pirates were wont to paint
their ships the colour of the sea, so in the time of war, on board
scout-ships, both sails and ropes were dyed of that hue. One can
easily understand that with the powerful rays of the southern sun
their disguise would have been effectual.
Ropes were made of twisted ox-hide, or fibres of the papyrus plant.
This was the usual practice for many years also in other parts
of Europe. The edges of the sail were bound with hide, the skins
of hyena and seal being especially used for this purpose, as the
sailors believed this would keep off lightning. The Koryaks, also,
still employ seal-hide for sails and ropes. Later on, windlasses
were introduced for working the halyards and cables of the larger
ships. After the crew had gone aboard the galley, and everything was
ready for getting under way, the gangway would be slung from the
stern, and three poles would be used for pushing off from the shore.
It is interesting to remark that the word used for this pole by
Homer—_κοντὸς_.—is still found in the word “quant,” given to a long
pole for pushing the Norfolk wherries in calms along the banks.
[Illustration: FIG. 17. TERRA-COTTA MODEL OF GREEK SHIP OF THE SIXTH
CENTURY B.C.]
The vessel shown in Fig. 17 is a terra-cotta model of a merchant
ship. The socket for the mast will easily be seen. The high stern
aft must not be supposed to have been raised to such an altitude
solely for the convenience of the steersman. The greatest foe that
the merchantman had to contend with was the pirate who swept down
and robbed him of his cargo. Therefore, to obtain some protection,
these traders were usually fitted with turrets of great height,
by means of which missiles could be hurled down on to the enemy
below. It is possible that the side “castles” shown were also used
as some protection for the steersmen, one standing in each with the
protection of a roof over him. Probably, too, on these occasions the
score of oars would be brought out in order to manœuvre quickly. A
merchant ship sometimes carried as many as eight of these turrets
(two in the bows, two in the stern and four amidships). They were
easily movable and were known to have reached to a height of twenty
feet. The model here shown belongs to the sixth century B.C. It will
be noticed that she has a very flat bottom, but this would be a
convenience whenever she had to be beached, for there were only two
sailing seasons—in the spring, and in the months between midsummer
and autumn. After the setting of the Pleiads, the ship was beached
and a stone fence built around her to keep off wind and weather. This
custom, then, would somewhat modify her lines below the waterline.
It was, further, the custom to pull the plug out when laying up for
the winter, so that the water should not rot the bottom. Tackle and
sail and steering oars were carefully stored at home until the fair
weather returned once more. These were the customs as far back as 700
B.C.
The model we have just alluded to was found in Cyprus, and is now in
the British Museum. Many others similar to this have also been found.
There is an amusing legend that Kinyras, king of Cyprus, having
promised to send fifty ships to help the Greeks against Troy, sent
only one, but she carried forty-nine others of terra-cotta manned by
terra-cotta figures.
Although the Phœnicians probably must be credited with the honour
of having invented the trireme, a ship with a triple arrangement of
oars, yet the Greeks were responsible for having developed the use
of this to a considerable extent, especially after the fifth century
B.C. Eventually the word “trireme” denoted not necessarily that she
had this triple arrangement, but became a generic expression for
warships. We have in later history similar instances of the same
designation remaining to a ship even when she has entirely altered
the right to her previous definition. Thus the galleass, which was
essentially a rowing vessel, frequently bore the same name during
the Middle Ages, even when she was a sailing ship proper. A similar
instance may be found in the different meanings which the words
“barge,” “wherry,” “yawl,” “cutter,” and “barque” denote at different
times.
Triremes had two kinds of sails and two kinds of masts, but before
battle the larger sail and the larger mast were always put ashore.
Such enormous yards and masts would be very much in the way on boats
of this kind. Regarding the arrangement of the oars of the trireme
much controversy has been raised. The theories of thirty or more
banks of oars have now been pretty well dismissed. The amount of
freeboard that this would have given to a ship must necessarily have
been colossal, and militated against the very object they had in
view, viz., handiness. It is highly probable that the crew consisted
of two hundred rowers, sixty-two on the highest tier, fifty-four
on the middle and fifty-four on the lowest, in addition to thirty
fighting men stationed on the highest deck. The upper oars would thus
pass over what we now call the gunwale, the second and third rows
being through port holes. Even when very large numbers of oarsmen
are mentioned, we must not suppose that there were so many lines of
rowers as that; several men were needed to each oar. Considering
their weight and the size of later ships, this would seem to be very
necessary.
Before we pass from the subject of the trireme, it is not without
interest to mention that in the year 1861 Napoleon III. had
constructed a trireme 39 metres in length and 5½ metres in beam. She
carried 130 oarsmen, who were placed two by two. Of these forty-four
were on the first row, the same number on the second, and forty-two
on the top. Like her ancestors she had a three-fold spur, a rostrum,
and two steering oars. But to us a far more important piece of
information lies in the fact that she was actually experimented
with on the sea at Cherbourg in good weather. It was found that she
bore out all that had ever been written by the ancient historians
concerning her: for she was both very fast and could be manœuvred
with great ease.[14] According to the ancients, a trireme could
average as much as seven and a half knots an hour, covering one
hundred and ten during a day. The merchant ship was going at a good
pace when she reeled off her five knots an hour. Her average was
about sixty knots in a day: but during a whole day and night, with
a favourable wind, she was capable of doing as much as a hundred and
thirty. Comparing this speed with the craft of to-day, it may be
worth noting that the average day’s run of a moderate-sized coaster
would work out at a hundred or hundred and twenty knots. The speed of
the ships of the Mediterranean was not slow, then, though they would
appear ridiculous if compared with some of the marvellous passages
made by the famous old clippers of the second half of the nineteenth
century of our era.
The navigation employed by the Greeks was that of coasting from port
to port, from one headland across a bay to another. There was no
such thing, of course, as being able to lay a compass course from
one point to another out of sight. The system of buoyage was also
non-existent, but there were lighthouses, as we know from designs on
ancient pottery and reliefs. On certain points of the land the Greeks
erected high towers, the most ancient of these being at the entrance
to the Ægean Sea—about 800 B.C. Later, about the period of 300 B.C.,
a tower was raised on the island of Pharos, near Alexandria. At
its summit two wooden fires were kept burning constantly, so that
the flame by night and the smoke by day might aid the primitive
navigators. In the fourth century B.C., however, Pytheas, by means of
an instrument called the _gnomon_, which indicated the height of the
sun by the direction of the shadow cast on a flat surface, determined
the day of the summer solstice, to which the greatest height of
the sun corresponds. He thus succeeded in fixing the latitude of
Marseilles.
[Illustration: FIG. 18. A COIN OF APOLLONIA, SHOWING SHAPE OF ANCHOR.]
We have already mentioned that when a galley was cleared for action
she sent her big spars and sails ashore. One set of double halyards
of course served for these, the larger sails and spars being no
doubt for fair weather when near the shelter of the land. Mr. Torr
in his excellent little book,[15] which is a mine of information,
the result of considerable classical research, gives the name of
_akation_ to the smaller gear—mast, sail and yard included. He
mentions the very interesting fact that the expression “hoisting
the akation” became synonymous with “running away” from the enemy.
Aristophanes made use of the phrase in a play produced in 411 B.C.
The names _dolon_ in 201 B.C. and _artemon_ found mentioned about
100 B.C., were also used to indicate the smaller masts and sails. We
shall refer to this latter again presently. Anchors are supposed to
have been among the inventions of Anacharsis. In the earliest times
they were, as one would expect, merely a heavy weight of stone. Then
they were made of iron, and later on of lead. Fig. 18 shows that the
shape was a cross between a modern “mushroom” anchor and the ordinary
one in everyday use. The triangular space at the crown was used for
bending on a tripping line. The illustration is of a coin found in
Apollonia (in Thrace), and now in the British Museum. The date is
about 420 B.C. Two anchors were carried by galleys, and three or
four by merchantmen. Even in those days the mariners understood the
usefulness of marking the position of their anchors with cork floats.
The cables were of chain and of rope. Flags and lights were used on
the admiral’s ship, three being allowed for the latter and one for
galleys.
[Illustration: FIG. 19. A ROMAN WARSHIP.]
The illustration in Fig. 19 has been taken from De Baïf’s book,[16]
not so much because it gives a representative picture of what a
Roman warship was like, as for the fact that the various parts of
the ship may by this means be made somewhat clearer than if we had
an ancient relief before us. I have, up till now, throughout this
chapter, included Roman vessels under the description given to the
Greek ships, there being for a long time but little difference. In
Fig. 19, A is the fighting top; BB are the ends or “horns” of the
sail yards; CC are the _antennæ_ or yards; D is the mast; E is the
_carchesium_ or upper part of the mast to which the halyards led; F
is the _trachelus_, being half-way up the mast; G is the _pterna_
or heel of the mast; HH are the _opiferi funes_ or braces; I is a
rope—_calos_ (ladder); KK are the backstays; L is the figurehead,
the _parasemon_ or distinguishing mark, so that in a fleet of ships,
each alike as to rig and size, this would be very necessary; M is
the stern; N is the turret or forecastle already discussed above; O
is the prow; P is the all-vigilant eye which the ship was supposed
to possess; Q is the _rostrum_, beak or boar’s head, while R is the
_rostrum tridens_ with its three-toothed ram; S is the _epotides_
or cathead whence the anchor was let down. The word is used by
Euripides and Thucydides. T is the _katastroma_ or flying deck, that
the marines might be able to fight without hindering the rowers; V,
of course, shows the oars, X the hull; Y is the _dryochus_ which
properly means one of the trestles or props on which the keel for
a new ship is laid; Z is the _clavus_ or handle of the tiller; “&”
refers to the tiller itself.
Fig. 20 is also taken from De Baïf, and is reproduced here not as
being an accurate representation of a Roman sailing ship, but because
it well illustrates by its exaggeration several points not easily
discernible in other reproductions. The inclined mast in the bows
carries the artemon sail, but it is out of all proportion. A is
the steersman; BB are the oarsmen; C is the πρωράτης, or in Latin
_proreta_—the look-out man; D represents the beak—τα ἀκρωτήρια,
the extremities of the ship; E is the θρόνος, or seat of authority
for the steersman. (Compare a similarity in the illustration of
Furttenbach’s galley, in Fig. 58.)
[Illustration: FIG. 20. ROMAN SHIP.]
Coming now to the ships of much later date, the dimensions were
sometimes pushed to vast extremes. Exulting as we rightly are in
these days of magnificent liners of immense tonnage and luxurious
comfort, it seems astounding that the ancients, when they had
embraced self-indulgence whole-heartedly and set forth to throw away
their fine energies in wasteful and extravagant pleasures, should
at so early a date have built mammoth ships fitted with the most
luxurious deck-houses, with bronze baths and marbled rooms, with
paintings and statues and mosaics in their sumptuous saloons, with
libraries and covered walks along the decks, ornamented with rows
of vines and fruit trees planted in flower-pots. Even the ample
luxury and the small trees on the decks of the _Mauretania_ have not
yet reached to such excesses of civilisation. Throughout the third
century B.C., several of these monstrosities were built by the kings
of Sicily, Macedonia, Alexandria and Asia. The size of one of these
“floating palaces” (to use here aptly a much abused expression) may
be gathered from the dimensions of one of them, which was 280 cubits
long, 38 cubits wide, while the stem rose to a height of 48 cubits
above the water. Nevertheless, her draught, in spite of so much
top-hamper, did not exceed 4 cubits, and she carried seven rams, was
fitted with a double and stern, and had no less than four steering
paddles.
Could we but see some of these ancient mammoth ships, could we
but wander through their saloons looking up at the wonderful
statuary, marvelling at the spaciousness of the tiled galleries, how
interesting it would be! How we should thrill with delight at being
once more transported into the ships of Roman times! Of course,
you will say, such a thing is impossible. Even if representations
are preserved on tomb or mosaic of contemporary ships it would be
ridiculous to expect that the ships themselves should still exist.
But we all know that truth is sometimes wonderfully romantic, and
in the history of ships there are some amazing surprises always
ready for our attention. Let us say at once, then, that two of these
floating palaces of the time of Caligula are in existence to-day in
Italy. Their details are interesting to the highest degree, and the
following account, based, as will be seen, on actual experiences
of those who have been into the ships, agrees with the historical
descriptions already referred to. For the valuable particulars of
these two ships of Caligula, I am indebted to Mr. St. Clair Baddeley
and to Señor Malfatti.[17]
Caligula possessed that overpowering passion for water and ships
which throughout the world’s history has always manifested itself in
explorer or privateer, yachtsman, or whomsoever else. Suetonius[18]
says that this megalomaniac had built two galleys with ten banks of
oars, each having a poop that blazed with jewels and sails that were
parti-coloured. These “galleys” were fitted with baths, galleries,
saloons, and supplied with a great variety of growing trees and
vines. In one of these ships, Caligula was wont to sail in the
daytime along the coast of Campania, feasting amidst dancing and
concerts of music.
Now, in the northern end of the Lake of Nemi, not far from the
Campanian coast, there still lie to this day, at right angles to
each other, two such galleys as Suetonius describes. Recent research
beneath the water has revealed much that is invaluable to us in the
study of the sailing ship. From the inscriptions on several lengths
of lead piping laid for the purpose of supplying the galleys with
water, and which have been brought up by divers, it is proved that
these belonged to Caligula, and that therefore they are of the remote
period of 37-41 A.D. And this date has been further corroborated by
the discovery of tiles and bronze sculptures found on board.
The history of the efforts to make these galleys speak to us from
the depths of their watery grave is almost as interesting as their
very existence. During the fifteenth century, owing to the fact
that fishermen on the lake frequently in their nets drew ashore
objects of wood and bronze, divers were sent below and discovered the
undoubted existence of a ship of some sort. At last ropes were made
fast and endeavours were made to draw the vessel to shallow water,
but these efforts were only crowned with the unfortunate result of
breaking off part of the stem. However, the nails were found to be
of bronze, whilst in length some were as much as a cubit. The wood
was discovered to be larch, and the vessel to be sheathed with lead,
covering a stiff lining of woollen-cloth padding fastened on by
bronze studs. It is important to note that the ancients in 37 A.D.
had the good sense to realise what Sir Philip Howard, and other
naval authorities in the time of Charles II., did not discover until
the year 1682, that lead sheathing round a ship, used with iron
nails, was bound to set up corrosion.[19]
Further operations on Lake Nemi were suspended until the year 1535,
when an expert went below to the ship again. A large amount of her
wood was brought to the surface, and was found to consist of pine
and cypress, as well as the larch previously noticed. The pegs were
of oak, and many bronze nails in perfect preservation were rescued
from the deep. These, said the diver, fastened the plate of lead to
the hull of the ship. There was also a lining of linen between the
lead and the timber, whilst within the ship were pavements of tiles
two feet square, and segments of red marble and enamel. He also makes
reference to the rooms of this watery palace. As to her size, this
was found to be about 450 feet long, and about 192 broad, whilst the
height from keel to deck was about 51 feet.
Various attempts were made in 1827 by means of a diving bell, but no
success resulted, and it was not until September of 1905 that a fresh
search was made by divers, when both galleys were located at a depth
of thirty feet of water. “By attaching long cords with corks to the
galleys, the divers,” says Mr. Baddeley, “sketched out in outlines
on the surface the shape of the vessels.” The length of the other
vessel was found to be 90 feet by 26 feet beam. The decks were paved
with elaborate mosaic work in porphyry, green serpentine and _rosso
antico_, intermingled with richly-coloured enamel. The bulwarks
were found to be cast in solid bronze and to have been once gilded,
for traces of the latter were manifest. From the other vessel lying
nearer in-shore, the divers brought up various beautiful sculptures.
The outer edge of the vessel is covered with cloth smeared with
pitch, and over this occur folds of thin sheet lead, doubled over
and fastened down upon it with copper nails.
It is thought that these galleys were designed by their builder
Caligula in imitation of those he used along the Campanian coast
which, though sailing ships, were rather of the nature of floating
villas. As to their purpose, it is probable that they were connected
with the worship of Virbius and of Diana. There, then, at the bottom
of Lake Nemi, these two galleys lie—still in existence, though owing
to their long immersion and the depth of the water their ultimate
recovery is extremely doubtful.
Among the many interesting items of marine information which we are
enabled to gather from the voyages of St. Paul, we find[20] that the
lead-line was in use, for we are told that “they sounded and found
it twenty fathoms: and when they had gone a little further they
sounded again and found it fifteen fathoms.” Also they “were in all
in the ship two hundred threescore and sixteen souls,” so she was
a vessel of considerable size. Then in the morning, having espied
a snug little creek with a good shore for beaching, “when they had
slipped their anchors they left them in the sea, at the same time
loosing the rudder bands, hoisted up the artemon, and made towards
the beach.” They had, no doubt long previously, learned the action
which has saved many hundreds of ships, at all times of the world’s
history, from foundering, by detaching the cable from the ship and
not waiting to heave up the anchor. Moreover, they had found a nice
beach under their lee, so the artemon or foresail was hoisted up the
small foremast, and she would be able to make the beach without too
much way on, and without the enormous amount of work that would have
been necessary had the mainsail been set—a proceeding, considering
the weather about, that they were not anxious to attempt. “Artemon”
is the word used in the Greek of the New Testament: the translation
of this as “mainsail” in the authorised version is of course quite
wrong. The later ships were fitted with a mainsail and mast, but also
a small foremast tilted at an angle of perhaps twenty-three degrees
projected out from the bows, on which another small square sail was
set. This was the artemon or foresail, and it would be in just such
a manœuvre as this, or for giving the ship a sheer when getting up
the cable or when coming into port even in fine weather, that this
headsail would be found of the greatest use. We must not forget that
this kind of foremast and foresail continued right till the beginning
of the nineteenth century on all full-rigged ships, in the form of
bowsprit and spritsail, until the triangular headsails with which
we are so familiar nowadays came in. Finally, before we leave the
voyages of St. Paul, we must not omit to notice the reference to the
statement that after the anchors had been slipped they _loosed the
rudder bands_. Instead of leaving the rudders to get foul of the
stern cables when they had put out the four anchors, or to run the
risk of being dashed to pieces by the waves, the ropes extending
from the stern to the extremities of the steering oars would be
hauled up so that the blades were quite clear of the water. It was
a similar operation to a Thames barge hauling up her leeboards.
Therefore, having cast off their anchors and being under way again,
the rudder-ropes would necessarily be lowered. The same method of
“rudder-bands” obtained among the Vikings. If the reader will turn to
Fig. 29, of the Gogstad Viking ship, he will readily appreciate this
point.
I am not going to enter here into any discussion as to the authorship
of the Acts of the Apostles, but whoever he may have been had an
accurate knowledge of the ships of his time, for we are able to see
just the same kind of ship as St. Paul’s in a merchantman of about
the year 50 A.D. and another of seventeen years later. The artemon
mast and sail are well shown. It was, of course, the artemon mast
that was the forerunner of the modern bowsprit. One can estimate the
size of the mercantile ships of the Mediterranean of about the first
and second centuries from Lucian, who refers to a merchantman engaged
in the corn-carrying trade between Egypt and Italy. Her length was
180 feet, her breadth a little more than a quarter of her length,
while her depth from upper deck to bottom of hold was 43½ feet. The
registered tonnage of the largest trading ships was about 150.
[Illustration: FIG. 21. ROMAN MERCHANT SHIPS.]
We have in Fig. 21 a very instructive illustration of two Roman
merchant ships of about the year 200 A.D. This has been copied from a
relief found near the mouth of the Tiber. The advance in shipbuilding
since the times of the Egyptians has continued. The great high stern
is still there, the bow remaining lower than the poop. The steering
oar is very well shown, together with the “rudder bands” that we have
just spoken of. They will be found to be two in number, coming down
from the ship’s quarter, and passing through holes bored in the blade
of the rudder. The tiller is of considerable length. The decoration
under the stern with classical figures is very beautiful, while above
is the familiar swan’s neck which accentuates the general duck-like
lines of the ship. Three bollards aft and four forward, are seen for
mooring purposes. The shape of the stem is worth noting for this must
have been fairly common in big ships, and we shall find something
very similar in the vessels of Northern Europe up to the fourteenth
century. The rigging shows to what knowledge they had attained by
now. The dead-eyes for setting up the shrouds, the purchase for
getting the powerful forestay down tight, together with a similar
arrangement on the artemon mast, are deserving of careful notice.
The mainsail will be seen to be hoisted by two halyards, foot-ropes
apparently being provided for the men sent up to furl it. I have
noticed that in most of the old illustrations depicting men going
aloft, the sailors usually ascend naked. This will be observed in
the present illustration. The obvious conclusion is that they wished
to be perfectly free and unfettered in their movements and to run no
risk of their garments being caught in the rigging. The ships are
moored to the quay by taking the stay of the artemon ashore. There
is a different figurehead on the bows of each ship, while in the
background, to the left of the middle of the picture, will be seen
the warning beacon previously alluded to, the building below it with
small windows being probably the leading lights for coming into the
harbour. The sail has a triangular topsail in two pieces without a
yard of its own. The yard of the mainsail appears now to be made in
one piece instead of two, but the point where, owing to the binding
together of the two pieces, the yard was thickest, is still so in the
centre. The sheets and braces will be recognised at once, but we must
say a word regarding the brails that were now employed. If the reader
will examine the sail shown set in this illustration, he will find
that the brails pass through rings on the fore-side of the canvas,
then either through the top of the sail or just over it, between
the yard and the edge of the sail itself, and so down to the stern.
In the picture three of the brails are seen coming down so as to be
within reach of the steersman. The action of brailing or reefing,
then, must have been somewhat similar to the process of drawing up
the domestic blinds that are familiar to us by the name of Venetian.
The reader will no doubt have seen many drop-curtains in our theatres
of to-day worked on the same principle as these brails worked the
Roman sails.
[Illustration: FIG. 22. ROMAN SHIP ENTERING HARBOUR.
_From an earthenware lamp in the British Museum._]
The sails were not infrequently ornamented. The present illustration
shows a sail bearing the devices of a Roman emperor. Topsails had
come into use quite a hundred and fifty years before this ship, but
they were far more popular on the Mediterranean than in the more
boisterous waters of Northern Europe.
Fig. 22, taken from an earthenware lamp in the British Museum, shows
another ship of this period entering harbour. The sail is furled
to the yard, there is a crew of six on board, one of whom is at
the helm, one is at the stern blowing a trumpet announcing their
approach—an incident that one often sees depicted in the early seals
of English ships—three men are engaged in furling the sails, and the
man in the bows is standing by to let go the anchor. At the extreme
left of the picture will be seen the lighthouse. I am sorry it is not
possible to give the reader a better illustration of this lamp, but
it is of such nature as almost to defy satisfactory reproduction.
Fig. 23, taken from another lamp in the same museum, represents a
harbour with buildings on the quay in the background. A man is seen
fishing from his boat in the foreground, with another man ashore
about to cast a net into the water.
[Illustration: FIG. 23. FISHING-BOAT IN HARBOUR.
_From an earthenware lamp in the British Museum._]
I am fortunate in being able to supplement our previous knowledge
of ships of this period by some important information that has been
brought to light through excavations and discoveries near Tunis in
Northern Africa. These were completed by M. P. Gauckler only as
recently as the year 1904, and I am indebted to his very interesting
account[21] for much of the information to be derived from these.
In a building at Althiburus, near to Tunis, a mosaic was unearthed
containing about thirty representations of several kinds of sailing
and rowing boats. Below nearly every one the artist has thoughtfully
put the name of each craft, usually in both Greek and Latin. Not
one of these is a war-vessel. This is exceedingly fortunate, since
hitherto we have possessed far less information of the trading
vessels than of the biremes, triremes and Liburnian galleys. But the
ships in the Althiburus mosaic all belong entirely to the mercantile
marine. The discovery, in fact, has brought to light the most
complete and precise catalogue we possess of ancient ships of Rome.
M. Gauckler thinks that this list has been taken from some glossary
or nautical handbook written about the middle of the first century
before our era. He fixes the date of the mosaics as about 200 A.D.,
and the evidence of the ships themselves certainly confirms the view
that they belong to some period not much before the time of the birth
of our Lord.
The mosaic includes a number of craft that were not sailing ships,
such as the _schedia_ or raft, the _tesseraria_, a rowing boat called
the _paro_, the _musculus_ or _mydion_, and the _hippago_, a pontoon
for transporting horses across a waterway. But whether sailing or
rowing boats, they all bear unmistakable traces of the influence
of the Phœnician, Greek and Roman war-galleys. Almost every craft
shows an effort, not altogether successful, to break away from the
design that had dominated the Mediterranean so long, for we must not
forget that it is an historical fact that the Romans, though they
brought the war-galley as near perfection as possible, did this at
the expense of the merchant ships, which they sadly neglected. It is
only natural, of course, that a nation that is always at war has no
time to expand its merchant shipping. The reverse was the case with
the Egyptians, who, being more of a peace-loving nature, developed
their cargo ships far more, for it was not until fairly late in
Egyptian history that the warship was attended to; we may even go so
far as to assert that it was not until the time of the Middle Ages
that the merchant ship both of the Mediterranean and the North of
Europe, made any real progress. As long as civilisation was scanty
and pirates were rampant on every sea, commerce was bound to remain
at a standstill. Indeed, in the time of the early Greeks, it was
thought no act of discourtesy to ask a seafaring stranger whether he
was a pirate or merchant. So accustomed are we in these days to peace
and plenty that we have need to remind ourselves constantly that
there were no trade routes kept open, no policing of the seas, no
international treaties nor diplomatic relations to prevent a peaceful
merchant ship from disappearing altogether on the high seas, or
staggering into port with the loss of her cargo and most of her crew.
The Egyptian stern still survives in these mosaics with
modifications, but the greatest difficulty the naval architects
appear to have had was with the bow. What to do with the ram-like
entrance has obviously been a source of great worry. In the end, so
that the merchant ship might not look too war-like, a curve has been
added above the bulwarks at the bows to balance the curve at the
waterline of the ram. The rowing arrangements exhibit a square hole
in the gunwale for the oar to pass through.
Of the sailing boats and ships depicted in mosaic the _corbita_ shows
a freer design than the others. She is more or less crescent-shaped
and not unlike the earlier caravels in hull. A ship of burthen, she
has a mast, and the steering oar is seen at the starboard. Another
illustration of this type of “corvette” is shown with a steering oar
at each side, the sail furled to the yard, a couple of braces and the
mast supported by six shrouds—three forward and three aft. The mast
has a great rake forward, and there appears to be a narrow platform
running round the hull as a side-walk, a relic, no doubt, of the
flying deck that kept the marines separate from the rowers.
Another sailing ship called the _catascopiscus_ obviously derived
her name from the corresponding Greek word meaning to reconnoitre or
scout; for she was famous as a light, fast-sailing ship. Her mast
and sail are shown in the mosaic, as well as the halyards and the
brailing lines.
The _actuaria_ was a light, easily propelled ship, similar to the
last. The mosaic (reproduced in Fig. 24) shows the sail furled to
the yard and, what is significant, a rope-ladder, up which one of
the sailors is ascending. Of the other two men one is sculling with
two oars, while the captain is seen in the bows holding a mallet,
which he knocks on the boat that the sculler may keep correct time
and rhythm in a manner not very far separated from the exhortations
of the “cox” of our University eights. This was the kind of ship
which Cæsar employed during an expedition to Brittany, and will be
referred to again in the next chapter.
[Illustration: FIG. 24. NAVIS ACTUARIA.
_From a mosaic at Althiburus, near Tunis._]
Another sailing ship, called by the artist a _myoparo_, shows
two halyards, and the sail divided curtain-like as we saw in the
Phœnician ships. She also has the Egyptian stern and a modified
galley bow. The _myoparo_ was a light, swift vessel, chiefly used by
pirates. The stem of the English word “peir” (meaning to _attempt_
to rob) is thus found in the name of the ship. Plutarch makes use of
the name of this species of ship. The _prosumia_ contains just such
a sail as we saw in Fig. 21, the brails being very clearly shown.
A sailing ship called a _ponto_ has a small artemon foremast and
main. The former has shrouds to support it, but the yard and sail
are not shown. They would be kept in the hold somewhere, and only
fitted when specially needed. This ship is of Gallic origin, and is
mentioned by Cæsar, who refers to the “pontones quod est genus navium
Gallicarum.”[22] Finally, in these mosaics, we have the _cladivata_,
a ship that resembles the vessel referred to by Mr. Torr in his
“Ancient Ships” as having been found at Utica, and belonging to about
the year 200 A.D. This _cladivata_ has also two masts and sails of
similar size, with the brailing arrangement of this period as already
shown. There is some uncertainty concerning the derivation of the
word, but it possibly owes its origin to being named after Claudius.
Such, then, was the development of the sailing ship in the waters
of Southern Europe. We shall now, leaving behind the first ships
that sailed the Mediterranean, proceed in our enquiry to the shores
of Northern Europe, and consider what was the nature of their ships
which had to voyage under conditions far less encouraging than those
of the warm southern seas.