THE EARLY SHIPS OF NORTHERN EUROPE.
The evidence that we possess, in order accurately to judge, of the
early ships that sailed the seas of the Baltic, German Ocean, Bay
of Biscay, and English Channel, is both conclusive and diverse. We
have in the writings of Cæsar and Tacitus, many details of ships that
are of considerable interest. This literature is supplemented by the
old Sagas[23] of Scandinavia, which, though highly informative, err
on the side of exaggeration. Rock sculptures existing in the land
of the Vikings, though somewhat the subject of controversy, are, in
the writer’s opinion, of real, valuable help in the study of sailing
ships. There is also some evidence of later ships in the old coins of
Northern Europe. But it is when we come to the important excavations
that have revealed—nearly always accidentally—the ships of a bygone
age, many hundreds of years old, that we are confronted with the
most undeniable and complete source of information that one could
desire.
These excavations have revealed discoveries of two kinds, which we
shall deal with as we proceed. In Great Britain, and in Germany,
various examples of the prehistoric “dug-out” have been unearthed.
The Museums of Edinburgh, York, Bremen, and Kiel, happily contain
these interesting craft, preserved for the wonder of future
generations. The second class is more valuable still, and far more
picturesque, for thanks to the burial customs of the old sea-chiefs,
there have been excavated from certain mounds in Norway, wonderful
old Viking ships in a state of preservation that is remarkable when
we consider how many centuries they have lain under the earth.
Therefore, fortunate as we deemed ourselves in being able to have
such sources of information as models and reproductions of the ships
of Southern Europe, we are far more happy in our present section for
we can go to the fountain head direct—the ships themselves.
To us members of the Anglo-Saxon race, the importance of the forces
at work during the period we are about to consider cannot be lightly
estimated. The influence of the Viking, or double-ended type of
ship, dominated the whole of the coast-line from Norway to the land
as far south as the northern shores of Spain, right from the period
that followed the construction of mere dug-outs, until almost the
close of the fifteenth century of our era. That is to say, as soon
as ever the North European became sufficiently civilised to _build_
rather than to hew his craft: as soon as he undertook the making of
ships rather than of boats—he came under the power of that naval
architecture, which we see illustrated in the ships of the Veneti
and Scandinavians; and, irrespective of geographical position, of
language, of tribe or of nation, the civilised inhabitants living on
that vast stretch of littoral, from the North Cape to the southern
boundary of the Bay of Biscay, continued in the same conventions
of design and build for many hundreds of years. It is a striking
proof of the accurate knowledge in shipbuilding and ship-designing
possessed by these early Northerners when we remember that, even
to this day, that influence, far from disappearing, shows a strong
tendency to increase, at any rate, in the architecture of yachts and
fishing boats. Thus, the Egyptians, who moulded for ever afterwards
the lines of the ships of the Mediterranean, have in Northern Europe,
their counterpart in the Norsemen. What the galley was to the south,
the Viking ship has been to us living in colder climes.
The obvious question occurs at this point as to what, if any, is the
connection between the Mediterranean galley and the ship of the North
Sea. That there is some similarity will be realised when we collect
the following characteristics. And first, the very shape of both
kinds of vessels—long, narrow, flat-bottomed; then the arrangement
of the large squaresail with its braces and rigging; the mode of
steering at the side; the pavisado that ran round the ship to protect
the men from the enemy; the spur with which they rammed the enemy’s
ships; the girdle that went round the ship to prevent damage caused
by ramming; the ornamentation of the head of the vessel; their very
methods of naval warfare, and finally, their adoption later of
fore-castles and stern-castles—what else do these similarities show
but that there existed a common influence? With such evidence before
us, it becomes somewhat difficult to find agreement with those who
contend that between the two classes of ships there is no connection
whatever, except such as chance might have brought about. I am not
denying that there are important differences between the ships of
the two seas, but I contend that such important resemblances to each
other need an explanation more scientific than can be ascribed to
chance.
But assuming that we are right in our surmise, by what means were
these early Norwegians affected by the southern design? Were they
influenced by Roman civilisation? That they certainly were not. Then
the southerners came to them?[24] Here is our contention. Though we
have no actual proof, it seems justifiable to suppose that those
great travellers and sea-folk, the Phœnicians, who, we have seen,
were unsurpassed in their time for seamanship and shipbuilding; who
have been said to have voyaged to the setting sun as far as America,
and to have crossed the Bay of Biscay to Ireland and Cornwall, might
have taken advantage of the prevailing westerly wind which blows
across our land and have held on until they had touched the shores
of Denmark or Norway. But why should they, do you ask? We have seen
that the Phœnicians were not merely great sailormen, not merely
adventurous, not merely eager explorers, but practical business-men,
merchants, traders. If they had found ore in Cornwall, would they not
have been inclined to seek other lands for what they could barter or
wrest ere returning to their own homes? Even supposing the Phœnicians
never crossed to South America, we know that they circumnavigated
Africa. A land that bred seamen of that daring and ability would not
be lacking in the kind of men to discover Norway.
And there is still another reason, it seems to me, why the Phœnicians
might have felt tempted to go eastward after Cornwall. Ignorant as
they were of the world’s geography, might they not have thought
that, just as by sailing round always to the starboard they had
encircled Africa, so having performed roughly a semi-circle from the
Mediterranean to the English Channel, if they kept their course over
the wilderness of sea in front of them, they would ultimately find
that Europe, like Africa, was an island, too, and that the nearer
they approached the rising of the sun the sooner would they see their
homes again?
And if we are told to explain the differences between, on the one
hand, the ships of the Phœnicians or their later descendants the
Greeks and Romans, and on the other, those of the Vikings, it is but
natural that, given a general design which has originated in the
smoother waters of the Mediterranean, it must necessarily be somewhat
modified for the nasty seas of the Baltic and German Ocean, where
sudden changes of wind are but the harbingers of the rapid approach
of bad weather. Cæsar, when he came north into Brittany, was struck,
in comparing the ships of the Veneti with his own, by the superior
seaworthiness of the former, and adds significantly that “considering
the nature of the place and the violence of the storms, they were
more suitable and better adapted.”[25] There is to-day a far greater
difference in England between the sailing ships of one port and
another than there was between the old Viking vessels and those of
the Phœnicians. If you cruise round from one coast of Great Britain
to another, you will find in the Scotch fishing craft, the Yorkshire
cobble, the Yarmouth fishing smack, the Lowestoft “drifter,” the
Thames “bawley,” the Deal galley, the Itchen Ferry transom-sterned
cutters, the Brixham “Mumble Bees,” the Falmouth Quay-punt, the
Bristol Channel pilot, and the Manx lugger, a wonderful complexity
of designs and rigs, but the reason is always that that particular
design and rig have been found to be the most suitable adaptation for
each particular coast.
So it was with the Vikings. They modified the Phœnician design to
their local requirements, without, nevertheless, neglecting those
features essential to a good ship. After they had been shipbuilders
for some time they would rapidly learn for themselves the values of
length and beam, of draught and sweet lines, of straight keel, with
high stem to breast a wave, and high stern to repel a following sea.
Double-ended as they were, there was a reason for this essential
difference from the Phœnicians. Such seas as they had in the North
would not suffer their ships to be beached always in fine weather. So
in order that they could be brought to land with either end on, and
in order, too, that in sea-fights they might easily manœuvre astern
or ahead, the Viking ships were built with a bow both forward and aft.
But long before ever the Phœnician ships came to the shores of
Northern Europe there were boats and sailing ships. No doubt the
prehistoric man in the north was driven to finding some means of
transportation across the fjord by the same stern mother Necessity
that first induced that primitive whom we saw learning his elementary
seamanship on the Tigris or Euphrates. That ancient Northerner of
the Stone Age made a wonderfully historic discovery when he found
that he could make an edge to his stone, and that thereby he was
able to cut both flesh and wood. “For,” says Mr. Eiríkr Magnússon in
his interesting essay,[26] “on the edge, ever since its discovery,
has depended and probably will depend to the end of time the whole
artistic and artificial environment of human existence, in all its
infinitely varied complexity.... By this discovery was broken down
a wall that for untold ages had dammed up a stagnant, unprogressive
past, and through the breach were let loose all the potentialities
of the future civilisation of mankind. It was entirely due to the
discovery of the edge that man was enabled, in the course of time, to
invent the art of shipbuilding.”
The monoxylon—the boat made from one piece of timber—as fashioned by
the early sailorman of the Stone Age, is even still used in parts
of Sweden and Norway. Indeed it still bears the name which is the
equivalent of “oakie,” showing that it was originally made out of
the oak-trunk, which is the thickest and therefore the most suitable
trunk to be found in the forests of the North Sea coast, a region,
that in the time of the Stone Age was densely wooded with oak trees.
Afterwards, this monoxylon or dug-out, in order that she may be made
so strong as to carry as many as forty men, is strengthened with
ribs, and the flat bottom has the modification of a keel added. The
vessel that was found at Brigg in Lincolnshire in May 1886 (_see_
Fig. 25) is of this kind. A similar kind of boat was found in the
Valdermoor marsh in Schleswig-Holstein during the year 1878, and
is now in the Kiel Museum. As there are other similar boats in
existence, perhaps it may interest the reader if we deal with these
discoveries a little more fully.
The Valdermoor boat has the following dimensions: length 41 feet,
greatest width 4.33 feet, depth inside 19 inches, depth outside 20½
inches. The thickness of the wood is 1½ inches at the bottom and 1¼
at the top. The boat had eleven ribs, of which nine now exist. On
the gunwale between the ribs, eleven holes were made for inserting
oars. Both the stem and stern are sharp. The keel, 6½ feet in length,
is worked out of the wood at both ends of the boat, leaving the
middle flat. I am sorry not to be able to present an illustration
of this before the reader, but the director of the Kiel Museum
informs me that the boat is in such a position as to prevent it being
photographed.
However, the Brigg boat is very similar to the Valdermoor and may
serve the purposes of illustration equally well. This craft was
found by workmen excavating for a new gasometer upon the banks of the
river Ancholme, in North Lincolnshire. It had been resting apparently
on the clay bottom of the sloping beach of an old lagoon. It was
obviously made out of the trunk of a tree, and perfectly straight,
its dimensions being: 48 feet 6 inches long, about 6 feet wide, 2
feet 9 inches deep. The stern represents the butt end of a tree with
diameter of 5 feet 3 inches. The cubic contents of the boat would
be about 700 cubic feet. The prow is rounded off as if intended for
a ram, and a cavity in the head of the prow appears to have been
intended for a bowsprit, whereby the forestay could be made fast.
In fact, a piece of crooked oak suitable for this purpose was found
adjacent to the prow. Whilst the bottom of this dug-out is flat, the
sides are perpendicular and there is a kind of overhanging counter at
the stern.
The boat was formerly in the possession of Mr. V. Cary-Elwes,
F.S.A.,[27] to whom I have to express my thanks for his courtesy
in supplying me with some information regarding the boat here
reproduced. The ship was offered by this gentleman to the British
Museum, but was declined as being too big. It therefore remains in
a small provincial town difficult of access and for the most part
unknown. It would be impossible to remove the craft now, without
risk of total destruction, but is it not a little humiliating that
continental and provincial museums should see fit to harbour similar
relics as this Brigg boat, while our great national store-house
refuses a gift of such importance? I make no apology to the reader
for giving in detail the result of this Brigg discovery, for it
is one of the finest if not the most instructive of any craft of
this kind that has come to light in Northern Europe. An interesting
account has been written by the Rev. D. Cary-Elwes, son of the
above, and to this I am indebted for some of the following
facts.[28]
[Illustration: FIG. 25. THE VIKING BOAT DUG UP AT BRIGG.
LINCOLNSHIRE.]
The boat is hollowed out of one huge oak log, which, from the
dimensions given above, would necessitate a tree 18 feet in
circumference, and of such a height that the branches did not begin
until 50 feet from the ground. Such a tree would be gigantic. The
bows are almost a semi-circle when viewed from above, and are rounded
off gradually to the bottom and sides, the latter being about two
inches thick and the bottom four inches. The stern, however, is no
less than sixteen inches. The transom has had to be fixed separately
on to the trunk, and the difficulty was to perform such a piece of
shipbuilding so as to make this part of the vessel as strong and
water-tight as the sides and bottom. The caulking of the joints has
been done with moss, the transom fitting into a groove across the
floor. In order that the sides of the ship might not give, in bad
weather, Mr. Cary-Elwes thinks, a tight lashing was thrown across
from one side to the other, coming round abaft of the stern, and so
keeping both sides and transom tightly together. This transom was
found a little distance away from the boat and is 4 feet wide at the
top and 2 feet 5¾ inches deep, there being a projection some 2 feet
aft, beyond the transom, so as to form an overhanging counter.
Along the whole length of the boat, close to the upper edge, holes, 2
inches in diameter, have been pierced at irregular intervals of about
2 feet. It is uncertain what these were intended for. Although there
are no such evidences as a step for the mast, to indicate whether
she was a sailing boat, it is not safe to condemn her as having
merely been propelled by paddles. There are evidences of decks and
seats, and the primitive man would, no doubt, after he had learned to
harness the wind, maintain his mast in position perhaps by thongs to
the seat or by means of the decking. It has even been thought that
the fragment of rounded wood found with the boat and already alluded
to as a probable bowsprit, was a mast. To me this latter supposition
seems more likely than the theory of a bowsprit. It has also been
surmised that the holes running along the boat were either for lacing
to keep the ship’s sides from coming asunder or for receptacles of
pegs to hold washboards in bad weather. Personally, I think the
latter is the more probable, for it was a very early custom. We
have, in a former chapter, mentioned it as being a practice on the
Mediterranean in classical times, and we shall see presently that the
Vikings also used this method for keeping out the spray. It happens
also to be the custom among modern savages.
Evidently during her career of activity this vessel had the
misfortune to spring a leak, for she has been patched, and the work
of the boatbuilder is most interesting to us of to-day. On the
starboard bilge a rift of 12 feet long has been made. To repair this,
wooden patches and moss have been used. The biggest patch is 5 feet
8 inches long and 6½ inches wide in the middle, tapering gradually
to a point at either end, and is of oak. The patch was let into the
rift from the outside until perfectly flush with the outer part
of the boat. On the inner side of the patch, three cleats a foot
long and four inches deep, with a hole in the centre of each, have
been attached. Wooden pins were passed through these holes, so that
pressing firmly against the solid wood on either side of the rift,
they kept the repair in position. Besides this, holes three-eighths
of an inch in diameter were made along the outer edges of the patch,
corresponding holes being also made in the fabric of the boat by
means of which the patch could be sewn to the ship with thongs. This
custom, it seems to me, would have survived in the most natural
manner from the time when the shipbuilder sewed the seams of his skin
boat. Finally, all holes and crannies were caulked with moss. Mr.
Cary-Elwes has carefully preserved a small portion of this lacing
material, which appears to be of some animal substance, and probably
twisted sinews. He has also taken some of this caulking moss from
the boat and finds that it is of two kinds, both of which grow on
sandy soils in woods, and are now largely used in the manufacture of
moss-baskets and artificial flowers.
The important fact must not be lost sight of that while all the
repairs have been made either by wood pegs or thongs, not a trace of
metal was found in the fabric of the boat. This coincides with the
argument that we have been proceeding on, viz., that such ships as
these belong not to the age of metals but to that of stone. And, as
if to convince those who scoff at the possibility of being able to
fell trees—and oak trees especially—by means of stone implements,
Mr. Cary-Elwes refers to the interesting fact that the Australian
aborigines, a type of humanity as low and primitive as one could
wish to find, had all their tools of agriculture, war and forestry,
made of stone or wood, iron being unknown to them; yet indeed they
knew how to fell the giants of the forest, such a tree as the Jarrah
red gum, now used for paving London streets, being every bit as hard
as our oak. “Within quite recent times,” adds the same author, “the
inhabitants of the South Sea Islands worked exclusively with stone
implements. I came across a good collection of these old time weapons
in New Zealand, and what is more to the point here, sundry canoes
and boats hollowed by their means. My father, who was with me, and
who is a member of the Society of Antiquaries, and not unlearned in
these matters, pointed out to me not only the similarity that existed
between these stone weapons and the prehistoric adzes and axes of the
stone age, but also the interesting fact that the canoes hollowed
out by fire or stone tools were as cleanly cut and as cleverly
wrought as the old Brigg boat.” The same writer, from the evidence of
the geological strata where she was found, concludes that the age of
the Brigg boat must be between 2600 and 3000 years, which would bring
the date to between 1100 and 700 B.C.
In addition to the Brigg boat other dug-outs have been found in
various parts of our country. In 1833 one was discovered near the
river Arun in Sussex. Her length was 35 feet, breadth 4 feet, depth 2
feet. Her sides and bottom were between 4 and 5 inches thick. There
are also other similarities to the Brigg boat. In 1863 a smaller, but
similar boat, 8 feet 2 inches by 1 foot 9 inches, was also unearthed.
She had washboards like those we have attributed to the Brigg boat.
Another craft a foot smaller still was found near Dumfries in 1736,
containing a paddle. In 1822 near the Rother in Kent an immense ship
of this class measuring 63 feet long, and 5 feet broad was unearthed
also. It is interesting to remark that it was caulked with moss in
the manner already described. On the south bank of the Clyde another
of these craft was found having an upright groove in the stern
similar to that in which the sternboard of the Brigg boat was fixed.
There is also a twenty-five footer in the Museum at York.
This Brigg Boat, and the Valdermoor one, probably belong to the class
ascribed by Tacitus[29] in 70 A.D. to the Batavians and Frisians.
Some have also thought that it was in such boats as these that the
Romans crossed from Gaul to Britain. At any rate there can be no
doubt that boats of this kind were to be found at this time still
existing in Britain and along the shore washed by the English Channel
and North Sea.
In addition to those dug-outs already enumerated, a similar craft was
found in 1876 in Loch Arthur, about six miles west of Dumfries. She
is 42 feet long and like all the others is hollowed out of oak. Her
width and other characteristics show her to resemble very closely the
Brigg boat, and accentuate still more the existence of a prevailing
type of craft in Northern Europe during prehistoric times. The prow,
like that of the primitive Koryaks, is shaped after the head of an
animal. Unfortunately not the whole of this relic is preserved, but
at least one third of her, and that the bow end, is to be found in
the Museum of the Antiquarian Society of Edinburgh. More than twenty
canoes of this same class have also been found in the neighbourhood
of Glasgow. Almost all were formed out of single tree-trunks of
oak and afford evidence of having been hollowed out by blunt tools
such as the people of the Stone or Bronze Age would possess. Two
obviously later boats were dug up in 1853 and were found to be of
more elaborate construction, planks having now been introduced. The
prow resembled the beak of an ancient galley, the stern being formed
of a triangular piece of oak. For fastening the planks to the ribs
oak pins and metallic nails had been used. For caulking, wool dipped
in tar had been employed. Boehmer in his exceedingly valuable and
careful paper on “Prehistoric Naval Architecture of the North of
Europe,”[30] to which I am greatly indebted for some important facts,
points out that in the bottom of one of these canoes a hole had
been closed by means of a cork-plug, which Professor Geikie remarks
could only have come from the latitudes of Spain, Southern France,
or Italy. The inference is, of course, that notwithstanding their
island home, even the very early inhabitants of Great Britain were in
communication with distant parts of the Continent.
There can be no doubt that, at any rate among the least progressive
peoples of Northern Europe, this dug-out, monoxylon type of
boat lasted till very late, for an account is given by Velleius
Paterculus, who about the year 5 A.D. served under Tiberius as
prefect of cavalry. He distinctly refers to the Germanic craft
as dug-outs, “cavatum, ut illis mos est, ex materia.” Pliny the
elder speaks of the piratical ships of the Chauci, one of the most
progressive of the coast tribes of Northern Europe, as having visited
the rich provinces of Gallia. These ships were dug-outs and carried
thirty men. This fact is interesting, as being the first time the
Teutons had ventured on the open sea.
During the years 1885 to 1889, while excavations were being made at
the port of Bremen at the mouth of the Weser, as many as seven of
these dug-outs were found in the alluvial land at depths of from
6½ feet to 13 feet below the present level of the surface. They
were made of oak-trunks, and had apparently been fashioned by axes.
They were as usual flat-bottomed, without keels, but with prow cut
obliquely and with holes for the insertion of oars. Of the seven four
were entirely demolished, but of the remaining three the dimensions
were respectively: 35 feet long by 2 feet 6 inches wide; 33 feet 4
inches long by 3 feet 6 inches; 26 feet 7 inches by 3 feet 3 inches.
The height varied from 1 foot 5 inches up to 2 feet 2 inches. Several
specimens of this type are preserved in the municipal museum of
Bremen.
So much, then, for the earliest type of craft. We have seen that the
dug-out in the course of time became strengthened with ribs. The
next stage in the advancement of the prehistoric shipbuilder is to
dispense with the strenuous work which necessitated the hollowing out
of a whole tree trunk of hard oak. The affixing of ribs has given
him an idea. So, utilising the hides of the wild animals which he
has shot whilst hunting, he stretches these over the same framework
that he had used for strengthening his oak-trunk. He is still in
the Stone Age, so nails are not yet invented. The skins have to be
sewn together to fit the framework, and the result is precisely
that of the coracle even now used in Wales and off Connemara.
If the reader should happen never to have seen one of these, a
visit to the Victoria and Albert Museum will quickly clear up any
misunderstanding. Though we have no actual specimens of ancient
skin-ships existing—and indeed we should not expect such a relic—yet
the interesting survival of the boat-building language of that
primitive time is found both in the Norwegian and English language
of to-day. Thus, when you have allowed a ship to lie high and dry in
the summer sun so that the planking warps and daylight can be seen
through, what is the expression you would use to express this? Would
you not remark that she has opened her _seams_? Now “seam” is an
Anglo-Saxon word connoting the joining together of two edges of some
texture by means of a needle. But let us take a further instance.
Do you not constantly hear shipbuilders and designers refer to the
planking that covers a ship’s ribs as her _skin_? Thus we have still
in common use the very words which our sires employed in reference to
the sewn hides of their primitive craft. Indeed, when one considers
that all through history, even until now, shipbuilding has been
an industry apart from ordinary occupations, and that both ships
and seamen are, as we said in our introductory chapter, the most
conservative of all peoples or created things, this survival is not
so unnatural as might seem at first. We could continue to give other
examples in the pertinacity of ancient seafaring expressions, but
that would only be to digress from the immediate subject before us.
We need only make reference to the interesting fact that Cæsar during
his first Spanish campaign in the civil war, when he required some
boats at the banks of the river Sicoris to get across, ordered the
soldiers to make boats of the build that they had learned in former
years from the British use. Thus first the keel was obtained and ribs
were fashioned of light stuff; the rest of the boat’s body being
then woven together of osiers and finally covered with hides.[31]
According to Pliny the Britanni also in the first century of our era
put to sea in wicker vessels done round with a covering of ox hide.
In such vessels they would take a six days’ voyage to the Island of
Mictis, whence the tin came.
We come now to the Bronze and Iron Ages. With the advent of metals
we find a revolution scarcely inferior to that caused by the
discovery of the edged stone. For whereas the latter could cut,
yet its efforts were confined within narrow limitations. It was
capable of felling a tree and of hollowing out its trunk with the
expenditure of considerable labour and tediousness, yet that was
its highest achievement in the department of shipbuilding. But now
that the introduction of metals, of iron and bronze, is made, the
primitive man finds that his sphere of energy is vastly widened.
Instead of hollowing out the tree he cuts it up into planks. Instead
of having to sew the outside together with thongs of hide, he has
metallic nails as fastenings. To the same kind of ribs that framed
his skin-boat, he can now nail down planks of oak and fir. He has
a lighter and more easily propelled boat than the dug-out, and a
stronger and more seaworthy ship than that made of stretched skins,
although it is only fair to observe that the hide-boat was capable of
far more than one would suppose. Mr. Jochelson in the account of the
Jesup Expedition already referred to, relates his experience of being
taken for a sail in one of the skin-boats of the Koryak. He was
delighted by the endurance which the skins (of seal) exhibited. Not
the least remarkable feature was the fact that the skin was capable
of sustaining enormous weights without bursting. But in Europe our
ancestors must have been glad to be able to discard the hide for that
of wood, since the wear and tear in beaching on rock, pebble, or
snag, exposed them to instant uselessness.
Although shipbuilding proper comes with the Metallic Age, we must
not assume that the change was made universally or at once. The
transition would be made rapidly or but slowly in proportion as the
tribe or nation were enthusiastically maritime or otherwise. In some
parts of Europe the skin-boat or even the dug-out would be in use,
while other shores were seeing built vessels of planks and ribs. The
first historic account that we possess of these more modern vessels
is to be found in Cæsar’s account of the Naval Campaign against the
Veneti in the year 54 B.C. From this narrative we learn that the
ships of the Veneti were somewhat flatter than those of the Romans,
so that they could more easily encounter the shallows and ebbing of
the tide.[32] The prows, we are told, were raised very high, and the
sterns likewise—“proræ admodum erectæ atque item puppes”—so that
they were suited for the force of the waves and storms which they
had been constructed to sustain. We have, then, here a new design
in naval architecture recorded—the Viking type of ship—although it
had been in existence for a considerable time in the North. The high
prows and sterns would immediately impress those who had come from
the more peaceful waters of Italy. Further it is said that these
ships were built of oak throughout and designed to be enormously
strong. The crossbeams, made of logs a foot thick, were fastened by
iron spikes as thick as a man’s thumb. The anchors were made fast by
iron chains instead of cables, while their sails were made of skin
and dressed leather. These were used because they lacked canvas or
the knowledge to apply it to such a use, or more probably because
they thought canvas would be of too little strength to endure the
tempests of the ocean and violent gales of wind, and that ships of
such great burden could not be managed by them. Perhaps in the use
of hides for sails, we have the parent of the practice of using
tanned sails so common in our fishing fleet and barges. The relative
character of the two kinds of ships Cæsar points out, as we mentioned
earlier in the chapter, was that the Roman fleet excelled in speed
alone and in oarsmanship. Otherwise the ships of the Veneti were,
considering the nature of the place, and the violence of the storms
more suitable and better adapted on their side. Nor could the Roman
ships injure severely the ships of the Veneti by means of their
beaks, so strong were they. And further, so high were these ships
that the Romans found great difficulty in hurling weapons at them.
Whenever a storm arose and the ships of the Veneti ran before the
wind, they could weather it more readily and heave-to safely in
the shallows, and when left by the tide feared nothing from rocks
and shelves, for—“the risk of all such things,” ends the account
pathetically, “was much to be dreaded by our ships.”
Those who are familiar with the terrible tides and treacherous
coast of northern France[33] will readily understand how such able
Viking-like ships as the Veneti possessed, appealed to the Romans
with their fast but unsuitable craft. The difference would be that
between the smart Thames skiff and the tubby though seaworthy
dinghy of a North Sea fishing smack. For we know pretty accurately
now, thanks to the Althiburus mosaics referred to in the previous
chapter, just what Cæsar’s craft were like. Hitherto we have known
them as _naves actuariæ_—that is, light vessels of surpassing speed.
But if the reader will refer back to Fig. 24 he will find that the
_navis actuaria_, whilst propelled both with oars and sail, was
nevertheless not much of a ship to be caught in off the rocks and
narrow channels in a breeze of wind. Although these _actuariæ_ were
neither freight ships (_onerariæ_) nor war-vessels properly speaking,
yet they still possessed rams and were used on this expedition for
a war-like purpose. There cannot be much doubt that the Veneti had
obtained their design and ideas of shipbuilding from the Norsemen
who relentlessly swept down from their colder climes and plundered
and pillaged from one end of the coast of Northern Europe to the
other. As we shall see presently, this design was prevalent for many
years before Cæsar came, and as we shall also see from the following
chapter it had altered but little at the time when William the
Conqueror left the French shores for England in the eleventh century.
In the year 15 A.D. we learn from Tacitus[34] that Germanicus had
built near the mouth of the river Rhine a thousand ships with sharp
bows so as to be able to resist better the waves. Some had flat
bottoms to enable them to take the ground with impunity. Some had
a steering apparatus at both bow and stern in order that thereby
they could be rowed in either direction. Many were decked for the
accommodation of throwing machines. They were equally useful as
rowing and sailing ships, and just as in the mediæval times ships
were built with towering decks for “majesty and terror of the
enemy,” so as early as this period these vessels were imposing as to
their size whilst inspiring confidence to their own soldiery. Good
serviceable ships as they were, yet after defeating the Cherusci
at the mouth of the Ems they were shipwrecked in a storm although
the wind blew from the south. It is only fair to add, however, that
the ancients, especially the Romans, were wont to build their
vessels very quickly[35] and consequently they erred, no doubt, in
constructing them too slightly. The Saxons who, after the death of
Alexander the Great, came to the mouth of the Elbe and subjugated
the Thuringians, and who are said to have possessed the art of
tacking, already referred to, had such light vessels as belonged to
the stone age. They were wonderfully light, made out of willows and
covered with skins, but had a keel of knotty oak; yet these daring
navigators, without compass or chart, and with but a feeble knowledge
of the stars, managed to find their way to the Orkneys.
We pass now from the English Channel and the Rhine to consider that
land which has given birth to a long line of robust, vigorous ships
and men, who after the Phœnicians are the finest race of seamen that
ever sailed a sea. A little clumsy like their ships the Scandinavians
have always throughout history stood for manliness and strength.
And if we were right when we submitted that a nation’s character
exhibits itself in a most marked degree in its ships, surely of no
people could this remark be made with greater truth than concerning
the inhabitants of that Northern peninsula who, in the early days of
our own country, harassed our forefathers beyond all endurance, but
left behind to us the heritage of a love of the sea.[36] There is in
the Viking ship and its descendants not so much beauty as nobility,
not prettiness but power. The first mention of these Northerners is
by Tacitus[37] who refers to them as the Suiones. (Tacitus died A.D.
108.) As Cæsar was struck by the difference between the Roman ships
and those of the Veneti, so Tacitus remarks that the ships of the
Suiones differ from the Romans’, too. Although these were not sailing
ships—_nec velis ministrantur_—yet they were of the same design as
those which were fitted with mast and sail. Double-ended, they could
easily be beached and in battle could the more rapidly manœuvre ahead
or astern.
[Illustration: FIG. 26. ANCIENT SCANDINAVIAN ROCK-CARVING, SHOWING
VIKING SHIP-FORMS.]
But we have much earlier information than the writings of the Roman
chronicler. We have history written in stone, obvious, illustrative
and imperishable. In many parts of the Scandinavian coast, beginning
as far north as Trondhjem and extending right round to the isle of
Gothland, are to be found many rock sculptures depicting the forms
of both ships and men. A few have also been found in Denmark as
well as on the shores of Lake Ladoga in Russia. These rock-carvings
are really history set forth in picture language, primitive yet
intelligible. In spite of all the hundreds of years that have rolled
by, and the winds and rains that have dashed against them, they
are still quite decipherable. Professor Gustafson in his book on
Norwegian antiquities[38] gives several interesting pictures of
these rock-carvings, and I am able here to reproduce one for the
reader who will no doubt agree that the evidence here afforded is
exceptionally striking. Fig. 26 shows the Viking-like ship beyond all
doubt. Frequently these carvings are represented in groups and it has
been thought that they record naval battles fought in the vicinity,
the several representations of ships denoting fleets. The human
figures perhaps are there as an eternal memorial of their admirals
who perished or distinguished themselves in the fight. There are two
kinds of craft in these carvings, Magnússon[39] points out. First
there is the ship with the very high stem, and stern, and there is
the other kind of vessel which lacks just these features. The former
appears to have a double keel which makes it look as if the ship were
put on a sledge. There is at the bow end a structure which is most
probably a ram. As to the sledge-like formation below the body of the
ship, I am inclined to think it may have been a removable keel to be
attached to the ship when sailing and so give her flat-bottomed hull
greater stability. In an old-fashioned part of the world, which is
not so very far removed from Norway and which was in earlier times
over-run by the Norsemen, in whose inhabitants to-day the flaxen hair
and blue eyes and the Norwegian name are still to be found—in the
counties of Norfolk and Suffolk—the trading wherries have just such
an arrangement as this. When they have a full cargo on board and come
to a shallow part of the river, they unhook the whole length of keel
which is attached to bow and stern by an iron band, and leave it on
the bank until they return down stream. Until quite recently not much
change has taken place in the craft of this neighbourhood for ages,
and it is quite possible that this double-ended wherry was as much
swayed by Norwegian as by Dutch influence.
On some of these carvings a mast amidships is shown and their date
belongs either to the Stone or the Bronze Age, though more probably
the latter. Professor Montelius discourages the idea that the
Phœnicians established themselves on the Baltic for the reason that
the bronze culture found its way up to the North overland from the
shores of the Mediterranean and especially the Adriatic. But in
spite of this argument these sculptured forms show many points of
resemblance to those of the Phœnicians’ ships as the reader will
not fail to notice. Many northern archæologists think that these
sculptures have been wrought by the hands of foreigners, and Mr.
Magnússon suggests that in that case they may have been the work of
the Veneti. Be that as it may, and let it be disputed whether they
belong to the year 1500 B.C. or as late as 50 B.C., whether they were
carved by the Vikings or the enemies of the Vikings, there they are
still to be seen, admittedly of great antiquity and corresponding to
the description of the ships of the Suiones as given by Tacitus.
But long before this latter date the Suiones must have been
afloat. They could not suddenly have become owners of a mighty
fleet—_classibus valent_. The very prefix “Nor” which is so common
in this region—in the words “Norge,” “Nordheimsund,” “Norse,” to
give but the first instances that come to one’s mind—signifies ship.
It is the same stem that is found in the Greek ναυς and the Latin
_navis_. In the Irish language _noe_ also means ship and is found
in the oldest tractates of the ancient laws of Ireland. We have
already mentioned the important fact that Pytheas of Marseilles led
an expedition in the fourth century B.C. by sea to Norway in the
interests of the commercial community of Marseilles. This rather goes
to show that the Gauls and Scandinavians had met on trading terms
before and that one or both of the parties had journeyed to each
other’s shore previously.
We know that the Norsemen sailed in early times frequently along
the Eastern shores of the Baltic. We know that they voyaged to
Denmark, Jutland, Germany and Russia, for they have left behind them
unmistakable relics. For just as we are indebted to the funeral
customs of the Egyptians for so much important knowledge of their
ships, so to the burial rites of these hardy Northerners we owe a
great debt of thanks for information as to their vessels. There were
three kinds of burials adopted by the Norsemen. First, and this
is the one we wish to draw immediate attention to, there was the
custom of cremating the deceased Viking. His ashes, together with
his personal property, were buried on land in a boat-shaped grave.
The outlines of long, narrow, pointed shapes formed by a single line
of stones in the countries just mentioned indicate the ship-shape
resting places of these men who were so faithful to their vessels,
who revered them so highly for having carried them during their lives
safely across the turbulent sea, that even in death they desired not
to be separated from them. Thus on land the very design of the stones
was after the lines of that which is the noblest and most beautiful
of all the creations of man.[40]
But there were two other modes of burial, each in its own way
magnificently impressive and in keeping with the vigorous character
of the Viking spirit. Of these two the first consisted in placing the
body of the deceased in his own ship, then, setting the whole thing
ablaze, the ship and its owner were carried out to sea a red, glaring
mass, flaming up against the dark background of the horizon. This
kind of obsequies, magnificently as it appeals to our imagination
with its suggestion of colour, of grandeur and solemnity, has been
inimical to the pursuit of historical knowledge. But even in spite of
this, remains of unburned ships have been found among both the outer
and inner shores of Trondhjem Fjord.[41]
[Illustration: FIG. 27. VIKING SHIP-FORM GRAVE.]
But it is the third kind of burial that tells us as much about the
Viking ship as the Brigg discovery taught us about the primitive
dug-out. For instead of sending them out to sea there was also
the custom of dragging the huge ship ashore, and placing the
distinguished seaman’s body in the bow, a sepulchral chamber (clearly
shown in Fig. 28) of wood was erected above. Together with his
horse, his dogs, his weapons and other belongings he was left to
sleep in peace. Finally over the whole boat a huge mound was raised
towering to a great height, and the proceedings were completed. Now,
within recent years some of these mounds have been excavated with
results of remarkable historic value. Ever since the beginning of the
nineteenth century the Norwegians have taken a real interest in their
national antiquities, and these ancient craft have been treated with
the care and reverence to which they have every right. But besides
Norway these ships have been found elsewhere. Even in England relics
of a Viking ship 48 feet long, 9 feet 9 inches wide, and 4 feet
high were found near Snape in Suffolk during the year 1862. Viking
remains have also been discovered in the Orkneys. In 1875 an enormous
specimen was found at Botley, a charming little place up the river
Hamble which flows out into Southampton Water opposite Calshot.
This was probably a Danish ship and a relic of one of her nation’s
incursions against our shores. She has been thought to belong to the
year A.D. 871 when the Danes invaded Wessex. At any rate she was
in length 130 feet while her upright timbers measured 14 feet 10
inches. The caulking was found to be of ferns and moss and indeed the
impression of the leaves of the former was still visibly outlined on
the wood. The timber was oak as far as could be discerned, and bore
evidences of having been burned. Nowadays there is not enough water
at Botley to float such a ship, but at high tide, and allowing for
the silting up of the river it would have been as snug a place as
ever could be found along the south coast, after the Vikings were
wearied with fighting and the buffeting of the waves.
Of the other Viking ships discovered we shall give to each for
convenience the name of the district where she was found. The Nydam
ship was discovered in October, 1863, in the Nydam Moss to the
north-east of Flensburg in the Duchy of Schleswig. Nydam is in a
dale and was once part of a bay of Als Sound, and in former times
was navigable. Systematic diggings were undertaken at the expense
of the Danish Government and afterwards the ship was placed in the
hands of an expert restorer. She is as usual built of oak, her
lines being very similar to the Scotch fishing boats that flourished
on our coasts up to the middle of the nineteenth century, and
resembling the boat well known as a whaler. The rudder was placed on
the starboard about 10 feet from the stern and was about 9½ feet in
length. She is sharp at both ends with high stem and stern posts;
77 feet long, as much as 10 feet 10 inches across her midships, she
was clinker-built of eleven oak planks. The keel is an inch deep
and eight inches thick, being broad at the middle but diminishing
gradually toward the sternpost. The planks were fastened with large
iron nails and caulked, as was the custom, with some woollen stuff
and pitch. She had twenty-eight oars, was flat-bottomed, and her
date has been estimated as about the middle of the third century of
our era. I admit she is not entitled to be called a sailing ship,
but as she will be found to belong so closely to the sailing class
we cannot afford to neglect her. With her was also found another
similar ship but of fir and armed with a ram low down at each end.
Remains of another boat were also discovered with her as well as
bronze brooches, silver clasps, wooden boxes, bone combs, many shield
boards or _pavisses_ (also seen in the Gogstad ship, Fig. 28), 106
iron swords, spear shafts and heads, 36 wooden bows, iron bits still
in the mouths of the skeleton horse-heads, pots, bowls, knives, axes,
clubs, and thirty-four Roman coins, belonging to dates between 69 and
217 A.D.[42] These composed the personal property, already alluded
to, that was always buried with the Viking. Professor Stephens (see
note) was of the opinion that one or more of these three boats had
been scuttled and sunk in order to avoid capture by the enemy, and
goes on to refer to the fact that in the twelfth century the Wends
and Slavs employed the same means when pursued. Their tactics
included dragging the ship ashore, scuttling her and then decamping
and seeking shelter.
The Tune ship was found in Norway, near the town of Frederikstad
in the year 1865. She is of especial interest to us as being the
first specimen of a sailing craft that we have from the North. She
was found under the funeral mound that had been raised over her,
and measured 45½ feet long; her width is supposed to have been 14½
feet, for not the whole of the hull was rescued. Her height from keel
to bulwark has been estimated as about four feet. Clinker-built of
oak, there were found just abaft the mast the unburnt bones of a man
and his horse. From internal evidence this ship has been thought to
belong to the Iron Age, and is obviously a Viking ship.
About the year 1873 the Brosen ship was found near Danzig. She was 57
feet long, 16 feet wide, 5 feet high and pointed at both ends. Her
planking was 1½ inches thick of oak and clinker-built. The caulking
consisted of the hair of elk, bear, or some other wild animal, with
an application of tar. The bottom was flat. In 1890 the Gloppen ship
was found during excavations of a mound on the fjord of that name
near to Bergen. I understand that the remains are preserved in the
Bergen museum.
But far surpassing any of these we have already mentioned is the
great Gogstad ship discovered in the year 1880 near to Sandefjord.
The mound in which she lay was 18 feet above sea-level, and the
prow was placed looking seaward, as if ready for a voyage again.
The condition in which this fine old ship was found is nothing
short of marvellous, and is attributable to the fact that the blue
clay in which she was embedded had preserved her from the air.
The upper part has unfortunately been damaged, owing (thinks Du
Chaillu) to the clay being mixed with sand, and so allowing the air
to penetrate. She is clinker-built, entirely of oak, and caulked
with cow’s hair spun into a sort of cord. Her planking is of oak, 1¾
inches thick, and her length over all is 79 feet 4 inches, beam 16½
feet, and depth 6 feet amidships, but 8½ feet at the extremities.
She weighs about twenty tons, displacing about 959 cubic feet. Her
gunwale above water is amidships 2 feet 11 inches, while at bow and
stern it rises to 6½ feet. Her draught is only 3 feet 7 inches. In
many respects she resembles the Tune ship, but this is indeed a
sailing vessel. There is a step for the mast, and thirty-two oars
were carried—sixteen on either side—the oar-holes being provided
with shutters so as to keep out the sea. Through the courtesy of
the British Consul at Christiania I am enabled here to show two
excellent photographs of the ship as she now lies in the keeping
of the Royal Frederiks University, Christiania. Professor Gabriel
Gustafson has been instrumental in preserving the ship from further
decay, and the reader who desires a complete description of the
Gogstad ship is referred to the latter’s publications concerning
her. It is quite evident from her construction that her builders
possessed the greatest experience and that her designer, whoever he
may have been, thoroughly “understood the art, which was subsequently
lost, to be revived in modern times, of shaping the underwater
portion of the hull so as to reduce the resistance to the passage
of the vessel through the water.”[43] It is the opinion of experts
in naval architecture that for model and workmanship this vessel is
a masterpiece, nor for beauty of lines and symmetrical proportions
could she be surpassed to-day by any man connected with the art of
designing or building ships.
As rebutting the statement of those who would limit the possibilities
of these early ships to short voyages, it may not be out of place to
mention that at the end of the nineteenth century an exact replica
of this Gogstad ship was built, and sailed across the Atlantic on
her own bottom. She proved to be a capital sea-boat and was for some
time a source of great attraction at the Chicago exhibition. From
the various articles of antiquarian interest that were found in
the Gogstad ship, as well as from the style of carving with which
the vessel was decorated, she has been given the date of somewhere
between the years 700 and 1000 A.D. According to the Sagas such a
ship as this would carry two or more boats propelled by from two to
twelve oars. It is therefore interesting to remember that fragments
of three were found within this mother ship.
[Illustration: FIG. 28. THE GOGSTAD VIKING SHIP.
_Photo. O. Voering, Christiania._]
Fig. 28 shows the _bakbordi_ or port side looking forward from
the stern. The dark triangular erection towards the bows is the
sepulchral chamber in which the old sea-chief was laid. The
unfortunate break in the ship’s side below was evidently the work
of thieves bent on stealing some of the articles of value while the
ship was under the mound. The wooden shields, or pavisado to protect
the oarsmen from the enemy, are much in evidence, and the beautiful
lines of her stern cannot fail to be admired. She has a somewhat
flat floor amidships for greater stability, but the general sweep
of her lines is exquisite. Fig. 29 is even more interesting still
as showing the _stjornbordi_ or starboard side looking forward. The
height of the stern, and the planking, are here clearly discerned:
but especially claiming our attention is the rudder. Here it is now a
fixture, having developed like the Mediterranean ships from a loose
oar at the side. It remained as we see it here until the beginning of
the fourteenth century. In this Gogstad ship the rudder is fixed to
a projection of solid wood, on which it is pivoted. Into the neck of
the rudder a tiller was fitted, which we shall see quite clearly in
the illustration of the seal of Winchelsea in the following chapter.
Even nowadays, while in the modern Scandinavian ships the rudder is
at the end and not at the side of the ship, the steering helm comes
round at the side so as to avoid the high sternpost. Figs. 30 and 31,
which have been sketched from modern Norwegian and Russian ships,
will show not merely how wonderfully has this Viking type prevailed
up till to-day, but how the tiller also has altered only very
slightly. From the stern of the Gogstad ship will be noticed the rope
for pulling up the rudder clear of the water-line (as in St Paul’s
ship) so as to avoid damage when beaching. The steering side was of
course always the starboard, whence this word originates. On this
side the reader will notice the oar-holes mentioned above. The class
to which this Gogstad ship belongs is that of the _skuta_, which was
extensively used in Norway. Such craft as these, though they were not
the biggest of the Viking ships, were nevertheless of great speed.
The actual word _skuta_ indicates “to shoot,” in the sense of passing
speedily. No doubt the familiar Dutch craft _schuyt_ is, at least in
name, derived from this.
[Illustration: FIG. 29. THE GOGSTAD VIKING SHIP.
_Photo. O. Voering, Christiania._]
[Illustration: FIG. 30. NORWEGIAN SHIP.]
Being an open ship it was customary to stretch a tent, called a
_tjald_, over the vessel under which the crew could sleep at night
or shelter in bad weather. This was extended by means of cords and
wooden stretchers. A pair of these latter have been found in the
Gogstad ship with carved figureheads. Very similar to the ships
depicted in the Bayeux tapestry, as we shall presently see, the
Gogstad ship may be regarded as a typical Viking ship, such as we are
accustomed to read of in the literature of the Sagas.
[Illustration: FIG. 31. RUSSIAN SHIP.]
Since this last ship was unearthed there has also been found another
Viking ship, which we shall refer to by the name of Oseberg. This
was discovered on the western side of the Christiania Fjord, in
the district of Vestfold, in the year 1903. Its resting place was,
as usual, deep down in a mound. Happily the work of excavation was
put into scientific hands, and the University of Christiania sent
Professor Gabriel Gustafson to Oseberg to superintend the digging,
which proceeded with great care, and about Christmas, 1904, the whole
ship was fully disclosed. The various pieces were subsequently put
on board a lighter and brought to Christiania, where for the present
at any rate they are stored in the military arsenal of Akershus,
each piece having previously been numbered so as to facilitate
reconstruction. She is of similar dimensions to the Gogstad ship
though a little shorter, but unfortunately she has not been so well
preserved. She has in fact suffered severely by the earth pressing up
from beneath while her own weight, together with that of the mound
above her, have damaged her frames considerably. In ornamentation she
is indeed superior to the Gogstad ship and some detailed carving at
the ends of the ship runs along the gunwale. However the wonderful
collection of personal property found in her has not yet been
surpassed. Although she also had suffered at the hands of thieves,
there were discovered in her:—a loom with a tapestry full of small
pictures resembling those on the Bayeux tapestry, implements of
various kinds, a carriage but no weapons, which latter had probably
been stolen unless we suppose that his wife and not the sea-chief
himself had lain buried here.
With regard to the internal arrangements and fittings of the Viking
ships, the rowing benches were placed at either side of the ship with
a gangway running down the centre. In calm weather the ship was of
course propelled with her oars. In the centre of the gangway, fitted
to the keelson, was placed the step—_stalbr_—for the mast, room being
left so that the mast could conveniently be raised and lowered. Like
those of their ancestors in the Mediterranean, the masts of these
ships were lowered by means of a tackle on the forestay before going
into battle, and also when compelled to resort to oars on meeting
with a head wind. Stays supported the mast from the top to the high
stem-post, as well as shrouds on each side. The halyards passed
through a hole below where the shrouds met. Wooden parrals called
_rakki_ were used to hold the yard to the mast, and these are clearly
seen in old manuscripts of English ships of mediæval times. Braces
came down from the extremities of the yards, leading away aft.
The sail was square and was not practicable for tacking, consequently
it frequently meant waiting for a fair wind or resorting to oars.
We learn from the Sagas that Harald Sigurdson wishing to visit
Constantinople, on his return from Jerusalem, waited with his fleet a
whole month and a half for a side wind to enable him to display his
magnificent sails all glorious with rich velvet. The sail was much
wider at the foot than on the yard, and exceeded the breadth of the
ship. Fig. 30, as we have already remarked, represents a modern and
practically an ancient Scandinavian ship—so little have these craft
altered in the march of time. It will be noticed that she has no
boom. However, the Russian ship in Fig. 31 is correctly shown with
one. That, in fact, is the characterising difference between the
ships of these two peoples. That a tacking-boom or _beiti-ass_ was
in use we know from the Ynglinga Saga. It is said to have reached
so far beyond the gunwale that it could knock a man overboard from
a boat when sailing too close past.[44] This boom was probably used
when wishing to sail fairly close to the wind. Apparently when the
_beiti-ass_ was not in use the braces were called sheets.
The sail itself was made of home-spun until with civilisation came
the cultivation of flax. It was strengthened with a hem of rope, and
was frequently striped. Sometimes it was embroidered or decked with
pall. It is perfectly clear that the Vikings did know of the art of
tacking for we find the word in the Norse which means this—_beita_.
The portions of the sail were sewed together with thread, rings
being attached to the leach in such a place that the sheets could
be conveniently made fast when the vessel had need to shorten sail.
Small ropes or reefing points were also affixed to the sail. We shall
see this quite easily when we come to consider similar ships in the
next chapter. Mention has just been made of Sigurdson’s sails of
velvet. Very highly did the Vikings respect their wings. Gorgeous
sails were worked by their women folk, with cunning designs and
beautiful embroidery, even historic incidents being included. White
sails were sometimes striped with red and with blue, whilst others
of double velvet were made gay with exquisitely woven patterns in
red, purple and gold. As is the case in regard to many other details
this custom of decorating the sail was passed on to the English, and
it is a matter for regret that our seas do not still witness these
picturesque spots of warm colour flitting over the cold green waves.
Very poetic, too, are the phrases in which we find, from the Sagas,
the Norsemen referred to their sail. Thus such happy expressions as
“The Cloak of the Wind,” “The Tapestry of the Masthead,” “The Sheet
spun by Women,” “The Cloth of the Wind,” “The Beard of the Yard,”
“The Fine Shirt of the Tree,” are found. With a shipload of thirty
or fifty lusty Norsemen singing and swinging to their oars, with a
sail above bellowing out its purple and gold over their flaxen heads,
with their red and white striped hull, and their standards and gay
weather-vanes waving at her extremities—what a feast of colour, what
a sight for mortals she must have made as she came sliding down the
billows towards the unprotected yellow shore!
There were three distinct classes of ships possessed by these
Northerners. Firstly, the warships, including the Dragon type, so
called from the figurehead at her stem; the _Snekkja_, named after
the Long Serpent or Snake ship; the _Skuta_ or swift, “shooting”
ship, to which the Gogstad and the Nydam craft belong, the _Buza_
resembling the _Skuta_; and finally the longship, or, to give her the
native word, _langskip_. But far and away the largest of this class
was the Dragon, whilst the most celebrated for beauty of design was
the not inaptly named “Long Serpent.” Indeed, right until the twelfth
century this vessel dominated the design of most other ships built
around the North Sea and English Channel.
Secondly there were the ships of burthen, modifications of the
warships: and finally the small boats, also fitted with mast and
sail, which were carried on board the bigger craft.
In almost every case there was but a single row of oarsmen on each
side, protected by the overlapping wooden shields from both arrows
and waves, whilst the name given to the rope surrounding the ship so
as to guard against the shock of ramming was the _viggyrdil_. Whilst
the dragon’s head was on the stem-post and the tail of the dragon
ornamented the stern, the tiller, and, as we know from the Gogstad
ship, the handles of the oars were also decorated. We have a relic of
this custom in the beautifully carved dogs’ heads so often found on
yachts and other craft before iron helms came so much into practice.
With regard to the nomenclatures of these old vessels we find such
figurative terms as “Deer of the Surf,” “Snake of the Sea,” “Lion of
the Waves,” applied to them: but it is not without interest to remark
that not until about the time of the introduction of Christianity
is frequent mention made of the naming of a ship at launching. They
carried with them, on board somewhere, rollers wherewith to beach and
launch their ships. These are referred to in the early accounts of
the Viking burials and launchings.
In building a vessel there were three chief classes of shipwrights
employed. There was the head-smith, the stem-smith, who was
responsible for the construction of her framework, and finally the
strake-smith. Besides these came also the joiners, nail-makers,
blacksmiths and other workmen.
When making a passage every oarsman kept his weapons underneath his
seat in a chest, and when the fight began, the ships—following the
practice of the early Mediterranean galleys—of the aggressor and
the enemy were locked together so that the warfare resembled a land
battle. This custom naturally was handed on to the English, and there
are not wanting in old manuscripts illustrations showing this method
of warfare. The prow had its raised deck and the stern likewise. In
between, but considerably lower, was the maindeck. At the poop, in
his historical position, stood the commander. Here, too, immediately
below him was the ship’s arsenal for whenever fresh arms had to be
served out. Each ship had five compartments, two being in the stern
as just described—the commander’s room called the lofting, and the
fore-room used for the next in rank as well as for the arms. We
have also mentioned the central space of the ship where the mast
and rowers were placed. And forward beyond that were quartered the
important men who were responsible for defending the stem and who
also bore the standard, this bow section being divided into two
sections. One can readily understand how essential it was that only
picked men should be in this part, for when once the bow end had been
stormed, it would be with difficulty that the enemy, coming aboard,
could be repelled from the rest of the ship.
As to the navigating methods of the Vikings, although they understood
the cardinal points of north, south, east, and west long before
the loadstone was invented, yet their voyages mostly consisted of
coasting from shore to shore like the ancient Greeks. But as to how
they were able to make such long voyages as to Iceland, and thence
across to what are now the New England states of America without
compass or sextant, I offer no explanation, beyond attributing
success to that wonderful additional sense and intuition which seamen
possess and which is, we find all round our coasts, developed in a
high degree in fishermen unlettered and untutored. Of course they
had the rising and setting of the sun to enable them to distinguish
east from west, and the stars, too, would be for their assistance,
but with such slender aids to navigation and in spite of being blown
off their course as such shallow ships must frequently have been,
they very rarely got wrong in their bearings. But perhaps we ought to
admit that usually the Vikings were wise enough not to fight against
nature wantonly; for they confined their sailing seasons, following
the example again of the Mediterraneans, to spring and summer.
Except when they were in some country too far distant, the Vikings
always returned home about the autumnal equinox and “brought their
ships to the roller.”
Because the Vikings coasted as a rule instead of making a passage
across the Ocean, they were frequently able to go ashore at nights
to sleep. But whether they slept ashore or afloat each man turned-in
in a leather sleeping-bag. Under that awning and on board such able
ships the possibilities of comfort were perhaps not so limited as
one might imagine at first. The cooking could only be done on land,
so this was an additional reason for hugging the shore. In fact a
municipal law of Bergen in the year 1276 assumed this, for it enacts
that the mate shall, whenever the ship lies at anchor in harbour,
cause the crew to be put on shore and brought back on board once a
day: but the cook is to be allowed ashore three times—once to take in
water and twice to take in food. Bronze cooking vessels belonging to
the ships have also been found.
Thus we conclude our investigation of these eternally fascinating
sailing ships of the land of pines and fjords, of glacier and keen
biting air. We leave them with reluctance, but our regret is tempered
with the knowledge that henceforth wherever we discuss the sailing
ships of our English nation, we shall know that either obvious or
concealed there is the Viking influence lurking in her design, her
manner of construction or her sail and rigging.