CHAPTER VII.

FROM THE ACCESSION OF JAMES I. TO THE CLOSE OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

One of the most lucrative, if exciting, professions which was far

from unpopular during Elizabeth’s reign was that of fitting out a

small fleet of two or three ships, roving about the seas, especially

off the coast of Spain, attacking and, when fortunate, capturing a

ship homeward bound with treasure from the West Indies. In spite of

the distinguished Englishmen who were engaged in this, in spite of

the excellent training it afforded to our seamen, it can only be

condemned as illegal and piratical, although for a long time it was

winked at. James I., however, on his accession determined to take

away from it any semblance of approval. He did his best to bring an

end to these marauding expeditions, but for all that they went on

persistently though not overtly. Captain John Smith, a distinguished

sailor of this time, who was also the first Governor of Virginia,

has left us a lively account depicting an imaginary engagement to

illustrate the working of a ship of this date. It is to be found in

“An Accidence or The Pathway to Experience necessary for all young

seamen ... written by Captaine John Smith sometimes Governour of

Virginia and Admirall of New England,” printed in London in 1626. As

it shows in actual use the very details of the ship and equipment

we mentioned in the last chapter, I cannot refrain from quoting at

length the following graphic description. I give it just as it was

printed, substituting only modern spelling and punctuation:

“A sail! How stands she? To windward, or leeward? Set him by the

compass. He stands right ahead, or on the weather bow, or lee bow.

Out with all your sails: a steady man to the helm. Sit close to keep

her steady. Give chase or fetch him up. He holds his own. No: we

gather on him. Out goeth his flag and pennants or streamers, also his

colours, his waist-cloths and top-armings. He furles and slings his

mainsail. In goes his spritsail and mizzen. He makes ready his close

fights[93] fore and after: well, we shall reach him by and by. What?

Is all ready? Yea, yea. Every man to his charge. Dowse your topsail.

Salute him for the sea—hail him. ‘Whence your ship?’ ‘Of Spain:

whence is yours?’ ‘Of England.’ ‘Are you merchants or men of war?’

‘We are of the sea.’ He waves us to leeward for the King of Spain and

keeps his luff. Give him a chase piece, a broad side and run ahead.

Make ready to tack about, give him your stern pieces. Be yare[94] at

helm: hail him with a noise of trumpets.

“We are shot through and through, and between wind and water. Try

the pumps. Master, let us breathe and refresh a little. Sling a

man overboard to stop the leak. Done, done! Is all ready again?

Yea, yea. Bear up close with him. With all your great and small

shot charge him. Board him on his weather quarter. Lash fast your

grappling irons and sheer off. Then run stem-lines the midships.

Board and board[95] or thwart the hawse. We are foul on each other.

The ship’s on fire. Cut anything to get clear, and smother the fire

with wet cloths. We are clear, and the fire out. God be thanked. The

day is spent, let us consult. Surgeon, look to the wounded, wind

up the slain. With each a weight or bullet at his head and feet.

Give three pieces for their funerals. Swabber, make clean the ship.

Purser, record their names. Watch, be vigilant to keep your berth

to windward, and that we lose him not in the night. Gunners, spunge

your ordinances. Soldiers, scour your pieces. Carpenters, about your

leaks. Boatswain and the rest, repair the sails and shrouds. Cook,

see you observe your directions against the morning watch. Boy!

Hulloa, master, hulloa! Is the kettle boiled? Yea. Boatswain, call up

the men to prayer and breakfast.

“Boy, fetch my cellar of bottles. A health to you all fore and aft.

Courage, my hearts, for a fresh charge. Master, lay him aboard luff

for luff. Midshipmen, see the tops and yards well manned with stones

and brass balls. To enter them at shrouds and every squadron else

at their best advantage, sound drums and trumpets and St. George

for England. They hang out a flag of truce. Stand in with him, haul

him amain, abaft, or take in his flag. Strike their sails and come

aboard, with the captain, purser and gunner, with your commission,

cocket or bills of loading. Out goes their boat. They are launched

from the ship side. Entertain them with a general cry. God save the

captain, and all the company, with the trumpets sounding. Examine

them in particular, and then conclude your conditions with feasting,

freedom or punishment, as you find occasion. Otherwise if you

surprise him or enter perforce, you may stow the men, rifle, pillage

or sack and cry a prize.”

Perhaps we may be allowed to add a word further in explanation of

the duties of the officers taken also from this little book. The

captain was not necessarily a seaman. His authority was to command

the whole company and keep them in order. The lieutenant was to

assist the captain and—hence the word—in his absence to take his

place. The captain also directed a fight, while the master was really

the sailing master and gave orders to the sailors, taking charge of

the ship as long as she was on the high seas: but “when they make

land” the pilot “doth take charge of the ship till he bring her to

harbour.” The duties of the sailors included hoisting sails, getting

the tacks aboard, hauling the bowlines and steering the ship. The

Yonkers were the young men whose work was to take in the topsails,

furl and sling the mainsail, to do all the bowsing or tricing, and

take their turn at the helm. In the setting of watches, the master

chose one and the mate the other.

As to the ship herself we find that the planking of a vessel of

400 tons was to be four inches thick, ships of 300 tons to have

three-inch planking, and small ships two-inch, but never less than

this. Between the beams of the deck and the orlop there were to be

six feet of head-room, and ten ports on each side upon the lower

orlop. A flagstaff was over the poop. A jeer-capstan was only to

hoist the sails of big ships, being raised by hand on small vessels.

Smith mentions using in a “faire gaile your studding sayles,” and

confirms the use of the mizzen topsail. One interesting item that

he enumerates is obviously what we now know by the name of drogue

or sea-anchor. Smith calls it a “drift sail.” Manwayring describes

the drift sail as “a sail used under water, being veered out right

ahead, having sheets to it, the use whereof is to keep a ship’s head

right upon the sea in a storme. Also it is good, where a ship drives

in fast with a current, to hinder her driving in so fast, but it is

most commonly used by fishermen in the North Seas.” Smith mentions

also the cross-jack yard as being now in use.

During James I.’s reign the East India Company, encouraged by the

King, endowed with a new charter, began to flourish considerably.

An important new vessel was built for them called the _Trade’s

Increase_, but she was careened whilst abroad at the end of her first

voyage, in order to have some repairs made to her hull. She fell

over on to her side and was burnt by the Javanese. Her size was 1100

tons, and the loss of so large a vessel in those days was a severe

blow. This was not the only occasion in which an English ship was

thrown away in this manner. Manwayring, writing of the contemporary

practice of careening, says that if a ship wanted attention below

the waterline, as for instance her seams to be caulked, when the

vessel could not be conveniently put ashore and in ports where the

tide does not dry right out, the method was to take out most of the

ballast and guns. Then by her side was brought a lower ship to which

tackles were attached, by means of which the larger vessel was hauled

down on to her side, care being taken at the same time not to strain

the masts too much. Some ships which were not naturally top-heavy

did not careen without difficulty, but English ships, having still

fairly high decks, careened somewhat easily. The Dutch, through

the shallowness of the water off their coasts, could not have a

deep draught, and in consequence their decks were not built high.

And because they were the reverse of top-heavy it was with great

difficulty that a Dutchman was careened.

[Illustration: FIG. 60. THE “PRINCE ROYAL.”]

In 1603 James built three new ships for the Navy, and five years

later the _Ark Royal_ of Elizabeth’s reign was rebuilt and renamed

the _Anne Royal_. In 1608 the keel was laid for the _Prince Royal_,

a ship of 1200 tons, whose appearance will be found in Fig. 60.

This illustration is from a picture in the Trinity House, and is

here reproduced by kind permission of the Elder Brethren. She was

the largest and finest ship that had ever been designed for the

English Navy, and was the finest man-of-war of her time. She was

both built and designed under the supervision of Phineas Pett,

Master of Arts of Emmanuel College, Cambridge, a distinguished

member of a distinguished family which, from the reign of Henry

VIII. right down to William and Mary kept up a continuous line of

naval builders and architects. An unsuccessful attempt was made to

launch her on September 24, 1610, when it was found that the dock

head at Woolwich was too narrow to allow her to get through. She

was eventually launched successfully, however, at a later date. She

was a three-decker in the sense that she had two full batteries

and an upper deck armed. Gorgeously decorated with carvings and

paintings the _Prince Royal_ was double-planked, and with but slight

modifications, chiefly in respect of her decoration, would not be

dissimilar to the ships built at the beginning of the nineteenth

century. Indeed so slight, comparatively, were the developments that

took place between this and the time of the Battle of Trafalgar that

the ships of the early Stuarts would not have looked out of place

among the ships of Nelson’s fleet. Between now and the close of the

eighteenth century the similarity between men-of-war and merchantmen

was so close as to make distinction practically impossible. That,

too, will account for the fact of the English in the foregoing

imaginary encounter by Smith asking whether the Spanish vessel were a

merchant or man-of-war. We have made so many changes between the two

classes of ships since then that it is a little difficult at first to

realise this.

In the design of the _Prince Royal_, many of the old-fashioned

conventionalities went by the board, and, as is always the case with

a daring innovation, hostile criticisms were not scarce. Some of

these, however, were justified, for when a Commission was appointed

to report on the design, it was found that more than double the

number of loads of timber were used than had been estimated for.

The _Prince Royal_ had a figurehead representing the King’s son on

horseback, after whom she was named. Her dimensions were: length

of keel, 114 feet; beam, 44 feet. She was pierced for 64 guns and

carried 55. This number was restricted in order to guard against the

excessive top-weight. In action the vacant portholes would be filled

by guns from the opposite side of the ship. The reader will notice

how close the similarity is between the hull of this ship and that of

the merchantman in Fig. 59, of this period, taken from Furttenbach.

The disappearance of the high poop and forecastles is particularly

obvious. Three lanterns were carried at the poop, and subsequently

this vessel was cut down smaller. At the beginning of the seventeenth

century the lowest decks of ships carried the bread and other

store-rooms, the cables, the officers’ cabins as well as some of the

crew. The second deck was about 6 feet above and pierced with nine

ports aside.

By 1624, James’ navy contained four ships of the first rank, viz.,

the _Prince Royal_, the _Bear_, the _Merhonour_ and the old _Ark

Royal_, now called the _Anne Royal_. Besides these there were fifteen

of the second rank, nine of the third, and four of the fourth, as

well as some hoys. It is curious to find, too, the existence still,

in the navy, of four galleys. They were a source of constant expense,

being never used now that the value of big ships had been realised,

and they were eventually ordered to be sold out of the service.

Charles I. took the liveliest interest in the Navy, and under him

naval architecture continued its progression. The first additions

he was responsible for were not of big ships, but of the sea-going

pinnesses of about 50 tons and under, equipped with both oars and

sails. They were square-rigged, three-masted, and had two decks.

They were, however, sparred and ordnanced far too heavily. In spite

of the fact that England had built a few large ships during the last

century, she had not been conspicuously active in this respect. Far

easier and cheaper had it been to capture the pick of the enemy’s

fleet, and then to refit them and turn the prizes into English

men-of-war. But this lethargy was beginning to disappear. Pett was

one of the chief influences in regard to this, and it was he who,

having closely studied the lines of a fine French ship lying in

British waters, learned some of the improvements that afterwards were

embodied in the ships of our country.

[Illustration: FIG. 61. THE “SOVEREIGN OF THE SEAS.” BUILT IN 1637.]

The _Sovereign of the Seas_ in Fig. 61, reproduced from an engraving

in the British Museum, after the picture by Van der Velde, owes her

design to Pett also. The reader will see how much nearer his craft

approaches to the old wooden walls of the eighteenth century. Built

in 1637, this vessel was for the next generation the admiration and

envy of foreign nations. Like the _Prince Royal_ at a later date,

she was cut down in 1652 to a two-decker, having been found somewhat

crank. But as originally constructed, the _Sovereign of the Seas_ was

a three-decker—the first of her kind—and her measurements, probably

taken on the gun-deck, were: 169 feet 9 inches long, by 48 feet 4

inches beam, the depth of her hold being 19 feet 4 inches. She had

a tonnage of 1683 burthen, and her anchor weighed 60 cwt. Designed

by one member of the Pett family, Phineas, she was built under the

supervision of Peter Pett. In 1684 she was practically rebuilt and

then renamed the _Royal Sovereign_, but twelve years later had the

misfortune to be burnt accidentally at Chatham, yet not before

she had done excellent service under Blake and others during the

seventeenth century wars. Notice in the illustration that instead

of the rare use of the topgallant at the main, she carries them on

all three masts: further still, observe the fact that by now royals

have come into use for the first time. The fore and main have them

stowed with yards lowered.[96] Originally the _Sovereign of the Seas_

had four masts. She carried over 100 guns; had a figurehead; and the

beak-head, though somewhat similar to that of the _Prince Royal_,

is placed lower, while the length of the ship is proportionately

greater, and the original tubby appearance of the _Prince Royal_

is improved upon. There is a medal of the time of Charles I.,

commemorating the Declaration of Parliament of 1642. On one side is

shown a conventionalised design of this or a similar ship, showing

both topgallants and royals, the latter stowed.

Comparing a ship of the seventeenth century with a modern sailing

craft of the same tonnage, the most striking defects that would

appear in the former were the clumsiness in proportions. The

lowness of the bow and the height of the stern seem to us nowadays

ridiculous: so they were. But it was just one of the stages reached

in the transition from those lofty forecastles and stern-castles that

we saw originate in early times. But masts and spars were now no

longer the stumpy items they had been. There was an improvement, too,

in the existing rule of tonnage-measurement. Up to 1628 it had

been far from reliable, being reckoned by the capacity for storing

so many tuns of wine. From the time of Henry V. and long after,

ton as applied to shipping denoted the capacity to hold a barrel

measuring 42 cubic feet in the hold below deck. Therefore a vessel

of 900 tons was capable of holding 900 such barrels. As the barrels

were circular and could not be packed close together, the tonnage was

really greater than what was given.[97] But from 1628 it was to be

estimated from the length of the keel, leaving out the false post (a

piece bolted to the after edge of the main sternpost), the greatest

breadth within the plank, the depth from that breadth to the upper

edge of the keel, and then to multiply these and divide the result by

one hundred.[98]

We have seen how, in the sixteenth century, the greatest rivals of

the English were the Spaniards. Now, in the seventeenth century,

it was the Dutch. Gradually they had been getting stronger and

stronger until about the middle of the seventeenth century they had

reached their zenith in prosperity and power. They had accumulated

considerable wealth, were building fine, capable ships, and about the

time we are speaking of had no equals in either of these possessions.

Before the close of the sixteenth century we have seen them engaging

on the first Arctic Expedition and inventing a new rig for small

vessels. All through the reigns of James and Charles I. they had

gone on developing. It was not until about the close of Elizabeth’s

reign that Holland had commenced to build ships purely for fighting

purposes, but by the year 1624 their men-of-war were the superior of

ours. They kept their ships well, and we find incidentally that it

was the practice of the Dutchmen to tallow the bottom of their ships

while the English had allowed their vessels to become overgrown with

weeds and barnacles below the water-line. The competition between

the two countries set ablaze so much jealousy that an explosion was

bound to come sooner or later. It did come during the Commonwealth,

but though the Civil Wars of Charles I. had the same ill effects on

our Navy as the Wars of the Roses, yet under Blake the Dutch were

beaten, our Navy became again the finest in the world, and settled

for the future the position which English fleets should occupy in

respect of other nations. Highly ruinous as this war was to Dutch

shipping and commerce, it meant the rise of our own Navy and merchant

service. True, our vessels were slower under sail than the Dutchmen,

yet we were more solidly built and armed more heavily. One result

of the war in 1654, not a little gratifying to our pride, remained

in the acceptation by the enemy that henceforth all Dutch ships,

whether men-of-war or of the merchant service, on meeting any English

men-of-war in British seas should strike their flags and lower

topsails. Another and more practical result was that many valuable

Dutch ships passed into our Navy as prizes.

During the Dutch hostilities was employed, for the first time, by

the English, a man-of-war named the _Constant Warwick_, which was

the successor of the galleasse and the immediate precursor of the

frigate of the eighteenth century. Originally the name “frigate”

(French, _frégate_) was only known in the Mediterranean: it was then

used as applied to the galleasse type of craft, having oars plus

sails. But it was the English who were the first to appear on the

ocean, says “Falconer’s Marine Dictionary,” with frigates denoting

“a light, nimble ship, built for the purpose of sailing swiftly.”

The _Constant Warwick_ was of 315 tons. Before the end of the

Commonwealth the frigate was given finer lines to her underwater

body, whilst the height of the hull above water was reduced and the

keel lengthened. The rake fore and aft was lessened, so that the

extreme length over all became diminished in proportion to the length

of the keel. In spite of the obvious improvements which would ensue

from this alteration, there was one vessel, the _Gainsborough_, which

Mr. Oppenheim cites, that was unable to beat to windward. These new

frigates were built at first without forecastles, but afterwards,

except in the case of the fifth and sixth-rates, they were added to

the larger ships. They were somewhat under-canvassed rather than the

reverse. The longboat was still towed astern as we saw in an earlier

century, the pinnace and skiff being stowed on board. Although during

the Commonwealth the ornate decoration of ships was restricted,

gilding being entirely stopped, yet in 1655 Mr. Oppenheim states

that this restriction was relaxed. The figurehead, the arms on the

stern and the two figures on the stern gallery were to be gilt, but

elsewhere the hull was to be black and picked out in gold where there

was carving. In spite of all that we can bring against Cromwell it is

only fair to say that he exercised a considerable amount of good on

behalf of the Navy and English commerce. In addition to settling the

Dutch troubles, there had been another matter affecting our shipping

that needed attention. For some time the piratical people of Algiers

had made the seas to be so dangerous as practically to have throttled

over-ocean trade. Cromwell, however, in his own determined manner

undertook an expedition to the Mediterranean under the command of

Blake, and secured relief for our commerce from the attacks by which

it had been harassed.

From “Two Discourses of the Navy: 1638 and 1659,” by John

Hollond,[99] we are able to gather some further information as

to the material used for ships of the English Navy during the

Commonwealth. Thus, the second of these discourses, written the year

before Cromwell died, mentions that there were three kinds of hemp

in use, viz.: Russian, which was the cause of considerable complaint

because it lasted only a year, while home-made hemp endured for

eighteen months; Rhine band being another variety, and Riga band the

third. But there appears to have been a good deal of trickery and

dishonesty generally going on at this time in connection with hemp

and cordage.

As to the timber, English oak was used for straight, curved (referred

to as “compass”), and knee timbers. Ash was used for blocks and

tholes, &c., while elm and beech were used for the planking below the

waterline and also for the keel. There was in this century a great

dearth of timber, and the royal forests had seriously deteriorated.

As a result, foreign planking was imported in large quantities

from abroad, and especially the Baltic. In this may be found the

explanation for the speed with which our ships decayed. In Charles

II.’s time the planks and timbers were fastened with tree-nails or

hard wooden pins. Those who have not forgotten their undergraduate

days will be interested to hear that the best trees for this purpose

were grown at Shotover and Stow Wood, Oxfordshire.

With regard to the iron used, by 1636 there were as many as three

hundred iron works in the country. Iron nails were stolen in such

large quantities that the systematic marking of Navy stores was begun

about the time of the Restoration. A proclamation of 1661 introduced

the broad arrow, as a Government mark on timber and anchors.

We pass now to the time of Charles II.[100] Following up the

zeal of the ancestors of his house, Charles showed a very real

interest in the Navy. In spite of all his follies, in spite of his

libertinism and effeminacy, Charles had one great outstanding series

of good deeds to his name in having done more for the English Navy

than perhaps any English rulers before him. Navigation and naval

architecture went ahead rapidly: the Greenwich Royal Observatory

and the Nautical Almanac were founded, the science of astronomy

encouraged, and yachting in this country given such an impulse as is

still felt to this day.

[Illustration: FIG. 62. BOMB KETCH.]

The total strength of the Navy at the Restoration was 156, this

number being made up of the following entities: first-rates,

second-rates, third-rates, fourth-rates, fifth-rates, sixth-rates,

hoys (small sloop-rigged merchant vessels adapted for war purposes),

hulks (for transporting horses, &c.), sloops, ketches, pinks and

yachts. Sir Walter Raleigh refers[101] to “hoyes” of Newcastle as

needing a slight spar-deck addition fore and aft. He speaks of

them as being ready in stays and in turning to windward. They drew

but little water, and carried six demi-culverin and four sakers.

Manwayring defines the ketch somewhat vaguely as “a small boate

such as uses to come to Belingsgate with mackrell, oisters &c.” The

ketch was a two-masted ship, not necessarily fore and aft rigged

as we speak of them nowadays, but with the mainmast stepped well

aft.[102] Descended from the Dutch galliot, the ketch was especially

used at the end of the seventeenth century as a “bomb-ketch.” The

illustration in Fig. 62 is from an old French print in the United

Service Museum, Whitehall, where it is called a “Galiote à bombe.”

Bomb ketches were first employed by Louis XIV. in the bombardment

of Algiers with great success. They were about 200 tons burthen,

and built very strongly, so as to bear the downward recoil of the

mortars. The reason for the large triangular space left between the

mainmast and the bowsprit is to give plenty of room for the mortar

to fire. The hold was closely packed with old cables, cut into

lengths, the yielding elastic qualities of the packing assisting in

taking up the force of the recoil.[103] The stamp used by the Hakluyt

Society on their publications is ketch-rigged. About the time of the

beginning of Charles II., the fore and aft ketch would be rapidly

developing. The pink was also of Dutch extraction. She is—for the

Dutch craft have scarcely altered since the seventeenth century—a

cutter or yawl-rigged small open boat, and clinker-built.

About 1660 Chatham was the most important of the royal dockyards,

Pett being in charge there. Sir Anthony Dean made a report on the

state of the Navy in 1674, at the close of the Third Dutch war. As a

result the sum of £300,000 was voted by Parliament to build twenty

ships as suggested by Sir Anthony. As to the comparative strength of

the European nations at this time, the following list is instructive.

On April 24, 1675, England had ninety-two ships carrying twenty

to one hundred guns and upwards: France had ninety-six ships and

Holland one hundred and thirty-six. As we mentioned just now, the

shallowness of the Dutch waters prohibited the building of big ships,

so that they were unable to build three-deckers, and the largest

ships carried no more than eighty or ninety guns. In addition to the

figures quoted above, we must add three fireships to the English,

four to the French, and forty to the Dutch fleets.

The £300,000 voted by Parliament was really with a view of meeting

the increase in the French Navy. It was during the first year of the

reign of our Charles II. that young Louis XIV. took the government

of the French into his own hands. There was then practically no

French Navy in existence, if we except a handful of frigates. But

three years before Sir Anthony Deane’s recommendation was approved

by Parliament, France had increased her fleet to fifty ships of the

line, besides a large number of frigates and small craft. It was

during Louis’ regime, in fact, that England had to look, not to

Spain, nor to the Dutch for signs of possible trouble on the sea, but

to France, which rose rapidly to a position of the first importance

as a naval power. Thus, English first-rates were to be built not with

a view of the shallow-draught Dutchmen but in order to be able to

contend with the fine French fleet whose vessels were the superior

to ours in size, though our first-rates were capable of standing an

enemy’s battery better than most ships.

English second-rates had the advantage financially of needing fewer

men. They drew less water, carried a smaller weight of ordnance, but

by reason of the fire from their three decks were able to render a

good account of themselves in battle. Fourth-rates served only as

convoys, and likewise the fifth-rates. In Pepys’s time England had as

many as thirty-six fourth-rates.

We are able to gather a good deal of information respecting naval

matters of the time from Pepys’s Diary. In the early part of the

reign war with the Dutch had broken out again, and in 1667 the Dutch

had actually sailed up the Thames estuary and burnt our ships in the

Medway. In spite of the ultimate good results to the English Navy

under Charles II., the daring and pluck which had been so conspicuous

in the Elizabethan seamen appear to have been not always alive. But

what worse evidence could be wished of the condition of the English

character of the time when we remember that while a Dutch fleet of

eighty ships burned the forts of Sheerness and ascended the Medway

as far as Chatham, capturing and destroying our men-of-war, Charles

II. “amused himself with a moth-hunt in the supper room, where his

mistresses were feasting in splendour”? Under the date of July 4,

1666, Pepys writes in his diary:

“With the Duke, all of us discoursing about the places where to build

ten great ships: the King and Council have resolved on none to be

under third-rates; but it is impossible to do it, unless we have

more money towards the doing it than yet we have in any view. But,

however, the show must be made to the world. In the evening Sir W.

Pen came to me, and we walked together, and talked of the late fight.

I find him very plain, that the whole conduct of the late fight was

ill; that two-thirds of the commanders of the whole fleet have told

him so: they all saying, that they durst not oppose it at the Council

of War, for fear of being called cowards, though it was wholly

against their judgment to fight that day with the disproportion of

force, and then we not being able to use one gun of our lower tier,

which was a greater disproportion than the other. Besides, we might

very well have staid in the Downs without fighting, or anywhere else,

till the Prince could have come up to them; or at least, till the

weather was fair, that we might have the benefit of our whole force

in the ships that we had. He says three things must be remedied, or

else we shall be undone by this fleet. First, that we must fight in a

line, whereas we fight promiscuously, to our utter and demonstrable

ruine: the Dutch fighting otherwise; and we, whenever we beat them.

Secondly, we must not desert ships of our own in distress, as we

did, for that makes a captain desperate, and he will fling away his

ship, when there are no hopes left him of succour. Thirdly, the ships

when they are a little shattered must not take the liberty to come

in of themselves, but refit themselves the best they can, and stay

out—many of our ships coming in with very small disableness. He told

me that our very commanders, nay, our very flag-officers, do stand

in need of exercising among themselves, and discoursing the business

of commanding a fleet: he telling me that even one of our flagmen in

the fleet did not know which tacke lost the wind, or kept it, in the

last engagement. He says it was pure dismaying and fear that made

them all run upon the Galloper, not having their wits about them: and

that it was a miracle they were not all lost.”

From his entry made on October 20, 1666, we gather that the “fleet

was in such a condition, as to discipline, as if the Devil had

commanded it.... Enquiring how it came to pass that so many ships

had miscarried this year ... the pilots do say that they dare not do

nor go but as the Captains will have them, and if they offer to do

otherwise the Captains swear they will run them through. He [_i.e._

Commissioner Middleton] says that he heard Captain Digby (my Lord of

Bristoll’s son, a young fellow that never was but one year, if that,

in the fleet) say that he did hope he should not see a tarpawlin

[_i.e._ a sailor] have the command of a ship within this twelve

months.”

And again on October 28:

“Captain Guy to dine with me, and he and I much talk together. He

cries out on the discipline of the fleet, and confesses really that

the true English valour we talk of, is almost spent and worn out.”

It was Pepys who urged that ships should be built of greater burden,

stronger and beamier, for at that time the men-of-war needed to be

girdled round the hull. They were crank-sided, could not well carry

their guns on the upper decks, especially in bad weather, and not

enough room was left for the carrying of stores and victuals. He

gives the following comparison between the two principal ships of the

French, Dutch and English:

FRENCH

_Soll Royall_ (more correctly _Le Soleil Royal_), 1940 tons.

_Royall Lewis_ (_Le Royal Louis_), 1800 tons.

Besides these, two others were 140 feet long on the keel with 48

feet beam.

DUTCH

_The White Elephant_, 1482 tons.

_Golden Lion_, 1477 tons.

The former was 131 feet long on the keel, the latter 130 feet. Both

had 46·9 feet beam, drew 19 feet 8 inches of water, and carried

three decks.

ENGLISH

The _Royal Charles_, “with the girdling of 10 inches measure,” was

1531 tons.

The _Prince_ (says Pepys) “is full as big now girdled and as long

on the gun-deck as the Charles, but having a long rake they measure

short on the keel or she would be 1520 tons.”

It must be observed in reference to the above figures that the

Dutch ships had a greater rake forward and would measure much

bigger, being very beamy. Pepys mentions that “the excellent French

and Dutch ships with two decks are more in number and much larger

than our third-rates.”

The _Soleil Royal_ mentioned above was a fine three-masted ship of

the line, carrying 108 guns. She was a worthy example of the high

state of excellence reached by the French naval architects of this

period. She was lost, however, when the combined English and Dutch

fleets in 1692 defeated the French off Cape La Hogue. This was a

decisive blow to another of those plans for the invasion of England,

and the naval battle in which the French fleet was utterly destroyed

has been regarded by historians as the greatest naval victory won

by the English between the defeat of the Armada and the battle of

Trafalgar.

[Illustration: FIG. 63. THE “ROYAL CHARLES.” BUILT IN 1672.]

We give in Fig. 63 an illustration of the _Royal Charles_ mentioned

above. This delightful picture is from a photograph of a model

in the South Kensington Museum. Built at Portsmouth in 1672 to the

designs of Sir Anthony Deane, she carried 100 guns: her length was

136 feet, beam 46 feet, depth 18 feet 3 inches, draught 20 feet 6

inches. The arms of England and the lantern that ornamented her stern

are still preserved in the Rijks Museum, Amsterdam, for the _Royal

Charles_ was one of those vessels which were either captured or

destroyed when the Dutch came up to Chatham in 1667. In the beautiful

model before us the ports are correctly gilded. The rake and length

of the bowsprit are in accordance with the information that has been

handed down to us. At the extreme end of the latter will be seen the

sprit topmast, up which the sprit topsail was hoisted. A jackstaff

is at the top of the sprit topmast. The present model does not show

topgallant yards, but as we know from Heyward they were found in the

inventory of this ship. Below the sprit topmast and on the bowsprit

will be noticed the spritsail yard now kept fixed to the bowsprit.

As to what vessels of the seventeenth century looked like under

way the delightfully realistic picture which Mr. Charles Dixon has

painted for our frontispiece will materially help our imagination.

And here perhaps we may say a word regarding the subject of the flags

carried at this period. After the union of England and Scotland in

1603 all British vessels flew the Union flag of the crosses of St.

George and St. Andrew in the maintop for a time, English and Scotch

ships also carrying their national colours in the foretop. Ensigns

of red, white or blue with the St. George’s Cross on a white canton

next to the ensign staff were also commonly carried until the time of

the Commonwealth. But on May 5, 1634, it was ordered that men-of-war

alone were to fly the Union flag in future, and that merchantmen

according to their nationality were to fly the St. George’s or the

St. Andrew’s flag merely. This rule ended in February, 1649, when

Parliament directed men-of-war to fly as an ensign the St. George’s

Cross on a white field.[104] The Union flag was carried on the sprit

topmast as shown in the frontispiece, and to-day the Jack is still

seen at the bows of our men-of-war, though they be built of wood no

longer.

Edward Heyward in his book just mentioned gives still further details

of contemporary ships. The rule which he mentions for ascertaining

the length of the mainmast was that it should be half the length of

the keel and once the length of the beam put together. The mainstay

was to be in thickness half of the diameter of the mainmast. The

shrouds were to be one half the thickness of the stay, and the

topmast shrouds to be one half the main shrouds’ thickness. One ton

of hemp required three barrels of tar. As to the ship’s boats of the

_Sovereign_, her longboat measured 50 feet 10 inches long, 12½ feet

broad, and 4¼ feet deep. Her pinnace was 36 feet long, 9½ feet broad,

3¼ feet deep. Her skiff was 27 feet long, 7 feet broad, and 3 feet

deep. Fourth-rates only carried a longboat and a pinnace, fifth-rates

carrying simply a longboat, while sixth-rates had only a 22-feet boat.

The _Prince_ mentioned in the above list was the _Prince Royal_ of

James I.’s reign. Her career had been a distinctly varied one. As

originally launched she was the _Victory_ belonging to Elizabeth’s

reign. She fought against the Armada, having been turned into a

galleon two years before the fight. In 1610 as stated she had been

rebuilt and called the _Prince Royal_, but this “rebuilding” was

during this period something far more than any moderate adaptation.

After the death of Charles I. her name was called during the

Commonwealth the _Resolution_, and at the Restoration this was

changed yet again to the _Royal Prince_. According to Le Sieur

Dassie in his “L’Architecture Navale” printed in Paris in the year

1677, _Le Soleil Royal_ had a tonnage of 2500 as well as 120 guns

and 1200 men. _Le Royal Louis_ had the same tonnage and the same

number of guns, but only a thousand men. He gives also a very full

and interesting inventory of _un vaisseau du premier rang_ of 2000

tons. Every detail is mentioned even to the _ornements de chapelle_.

Very confusing is the naming of the three masts as used by the French

at this time and embodied in Dassie’s work. Thus, as we hinted in

a previous chapter, the foremast is the _misaine_, the main is the

_grand mast_, while the mizzen is the _mast d’artimont_, or exactly

the reverse of what we should have expected them to be named. From

such a work as Dassie’s and, some years later, of Jean Bernoulli in

his “Essay d’Une Nouvelle Théorie de la Manœuvre des Vaisseaux,”

printed at Basle in 1724, we see how at last the scientific study

of naval architecture had begun to make headway. The action of

heavy bodies passing through the liquid sea, the relation of speed

to design, were being slowly understood. Finally in 1794 the same

scientific treatment was applied to sails. In “A Treatise Concerning

the True Method of finding the proper area of the sails for Ships of

the Line and from thence the length of masts and yards,” by F. H. af.

Chapman, printed in London, the area of the sails in regard to the

stability of ships is thoroughly entered into.

[Illustration: FIG. 64. A DUTCH MAN-OF-WAR OF ABOUT THE END OF THE

SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.]

The illustration in Fig. 64 is of a model of a Dutch man-of-war now

in the Royal United Service Museum, Whitehall. It is supposed to be

of contemporary date, belonging roughly to the period of Louis XIV’s.

rule, 1661-1715. The rigging may be relied upon, but the model is

too broad in proportion to her length. The guns are also exaggerated

in size, but for all that it may serve to assist the reader in

visualising the ships of what was so important a maritime Power.

The notable characteristic of the Dutch and French craft of the

seventeenth century as opposed to the English was that the two former

had their sterns terminating squarely, while the English rounded the

lines of the stern above water more. This foreign characteristic

of the square stern is everywhere noticeable in the contemporary

paintings and engravings of Holland. Over and over again we see the

overhanging stern gallery, with the transom stern below, going in (so

to speak), for the gallery above to project out. We find it in the

earliest yachts of Holland, in the Dutch East Indiamen as well as the

ships of the line. The reader will recollect at an earlier period we

referred to the “tumble-home” which had become a new phase in naval

architecture consequent on the introduction of cannon on board ship.

This during the ensuing two centuries had been overdone, so that the

upper deck bore a ridiculously narrow proportion to the width of the

ship at the water-line, but the Dutch in the height of their naval

knowledge were the first of the nations to relinquish it. It is to

the Dutch of the last part of the sixteenth and the first half of the

seventeenth centuries that we owe the beginnings of the fore-and-aft

rig and of yachting as we mentioned earlier. But in order that our

attention may not be distracted from the history of the squaresail,

it will be more convenient to deal with the development of the

smaller craft in Chapter IX.

We have already referred to the great influence for good exercised

on the English Navy by Dutch and French naval architects. Among the

points of superiority which the smaller French craft possessed over

ours was that their lower guns were as much as four feet above the

water, an improvement that made for greater safety. They could also

stow four months’ provisions, whereas our frigates were narrower and

sharper, and carried their guns little more than three feet clear

of the water, having space only for ten weeks’ provisions. It was

as improvements on these defects that the _Resolution_ and _Rupert_

had been built by Sir Anthony Deane. During the reign of Charles

II., also, Sir Philip Howard made an invention for sheathing his

Majesty’s ships with lead in preference to using wooden boards with

a layer of tar and hair between the sheath and the ship, the whole

having been covered outside with a composition of sulphur, oil and

other ingredients. The old method of sheathing with elm boards had

been introduced by Hawkins during Elizabeth’s reign, but it does not

appear to have been successful, for in a report dated October 12,

1587, the chief shipwrights state that the _Bonaventure_, which had

been treated according to Hawkins’ method, had decayed timbers under

her sheathing. But the reader will recollect that as far back as the

reign of Edward VI. the ships that voyaged to the North-East under

Chancellor and Willoughby had part of their underbody covered with

thin sheets of lead, while the ancients of the time of Caligula and

even before, had also adopted this method of preserving the hulls of

ships. So Howard was really a reviver rather than an inventor.

Still, since complaint had been made that Hawkins’ method

necessitated frequent cleaning, and the roughness of the

wood-sheathed bottom interfered with the sailing abilities, Howard’s

plan was adopted. The first experiment of using his milled lead

sheathing was made on the _Phœnix_ at Portsmouth in 1670-71, and

afterwards on the _Dreadnought_, the _Henrietta_, and others in 1672.

The _Phœnix_ was careened at Sheerness in 1673, after two voyages

to the Straits, and inspected by the King himself. In the same year

Howard’s new method was finally adopted for the Navy by the Lords of

the Admiralty. Considerable opposition was made by some critics, who

rightly pointed out that the action of the lead was to corrode very

rapidly the iron nails and rudder-irons of the ship, and eventually

in 1682 the Navy Board reported against a further use of this

sheathing.

An experiment of quite a different nature was made in 1674 in

utilising cypress trees from the new colony of Virginia. They

were said to be large enough for the masts of yachts, and both

lighter and tougher than fir, which was then being used. It is

curious how persistently the galley endeavoured, in spite of every

discouragement, to make its reappearance in England. This, however,

was owing to the success with which it had flourished in the

Mediterranean. In 1666 the Duke of Florence presented Charles II.

with two of the best galleys that could be built, one of which went

from Leghorn to Tangier. Anthony Deane, the younger, subsequently

built a galley called the _James_ at Blackwall; another, called the

_Charles_, was built at Woolwich, by Phineas Pett the younger, the

date of both being 1676. They were classed in Pepys’s “Register of

the Royal Navy” as fourth-rates. From the naval papers of the period

we find that 1000 loads of timber will build a third-rate of 1000

tons. A ship of 1000 tons costs £10 a ton to build, and the life of a

ship was about thirty years. Great merchant ships cost from £6 to £8

2_s._ 6_d._ to build, but merchantmen of 250 tons cost from £5 to £7

a ton.

By the end of the seventeenth century the sailing ship had reached a

stage in development which, till the close of the eighteenth century,

altered but little. Naval architecture, thanks to French influence,

was progressing. Eddystone lighthouse was built, and Dampier had

undertaken his famous voyage to Australia. The naval authorities

had by now become firmly convinced of the folly of the high-charged

decks, with the enormous rake ascending from the low bows to the

lofty stern. But another change was also beginning to take place.

For some time it had been customary when a fleet of ships voyaged

in company to have them rigged as nearly as possible with spars and

sails of the same size, so that in the event of anything carrying

away, each ship would be able to supply the other with a sail,

or spar, or rope of the proper dimensions. Later, as ships became

bigger and carried more sails and spars, this idea had been extended

to the individual ship. Thus, soon after the Revolution, Cloudesley

Shovel advocated the supplying of two spare topmasts to every ship,

and fitting spritsails in such a manner that when necessity arose

they might serve as main topsails. The yards, too, of spritsail,

topsail, mizzen topsail, and main topgallant were to be made so as to

be interchangeable. By about the beginning of the eighteenth century,

the triangular headsails are seen on full-rigged Dutch ships, whilst

the lateen mizzen still continues. The reader will recollect that

this shaped headsail had first been introduced on the Dutch sloops

of the sixteenth century, with their foresail working on a stay as

to-day, having a sprit mainsail, resembling that of the modern Thames

barge, but with no jib for the present. Now, in the century we are

discussing, the Dutchman uses the same shaped headsail for his big

ships, the spritsail underneath the bowsprit still remaining. In

course of the first half of the eighteenth century this innovation

spread to France and to England. At the beginning of the eighteenth

century, also, besides the fore staysails, main and foretopmast

staysails and main topmast studding sails were in use in our ships.

The cables were each 100 fathoms long, made of 21-inch hemp, and

the bower anchors weighed 74 cwts. for a first-rate. The length of

the longboats was 36 feet, the pinnaces 33 feet, and the skiff 27

feet. The heaviest guns were 42-pounders.[105] By the middle of the

eighteenth century the staysails and triangular headsails had become

quite common, and two instead of one spritsail are found under the

bowsprit. The sprit topmast disappears, but the jackstaff is used in

its place to fly the Union Jack when at anchor, being taken in when

under way, otherwise it would hinder the working of the triangular

headsails. An important change now takes place in the mizzen. The

reader will recollect that for several hundred years it had been used

in its Mediterranean triangular shape on European ships. Instead of

the yard coming quite low down, as in Fig. 63 of Charles II.’s ship,

the angle the yard makes with the mizzen mast is nearer to a right

angle. Thus, instead of the sail being triangular it is rectangular,

having four sides instead of three. The next stage is to cut off that

part of this sail which projects forward of the mast, though the yard

itself is still allowed to extend ahead of the mast without having

any canvas on its forward end. The luff of the sail is laced to the

mast, hoops not being used. Finally, by at least 1768, the portion

of the yard still found without any canvas is lopped off, and the

vangs which had been used all the time for the mainsail of the sloops

are seen coming down from the peak to the stern. Also, following the

example of the contemporary Dutch fore-and-afters, there is no boom.

If the reader will now look at the mizzen of the corvette model in

Fig. 69 he will see this penultimate stage clearly shown. The final

stage comes later when a boom is added, and that, too, may be traced

for its origin to the Dutch fore-and-afters, which, discarding the

sprit extending diagonally across the mainsail, added a tiny gaff and

a much longer boom, the sail being loose-footed. Instead of the long

bowsprit of the early Stuarts, the middle of the eighteenth century

saw this mast-like projection cut into two pieces, so as to make

bowsprit and jib-boom. Topgallants now become far more frequently

used.

After the Revolution, at the end of James II.’s reign, the three

ranks of Admiral, Vice-Admiral, and Rear-Admiral, were established,

and the practice of having red, blue, and white ensigns, which had

been introduced during the time of Charles I., continued. These

ensigns were shown on an ensign staff, each having a cross of St.

George on a white field in the upper canton. The Jack flown on

the staff on the bowsprit was blue with a white saltire and a red

cross with white fimbriation over all. Signals were made, not by a

combination of flags, but by changing the position of flags.

[Illustration: FIG. 65. THE “TERRIBLE,” A TWO-DECKER CAPTURED FROM

THE FRENCH IN 1747.]

When Queen Anne died in 1714, there were in our Navy seven

first-rates, thirteen second-rates, forty-two third-rates, sixty-nine

fourth-rates, forty-two fifth-rates, and twenty-four sixth-rates.

As to the meaning signified by these classes, the first-rates were

vessels of one hundred guns, or upwards, carrying them on three

decks. Second-rates carried from ninety to one hundred guns on

three decks: third-rates had from sixty-four to eighty-four guns on

two complete decks: fourth-rates had from fifty to sixty guns on

two decks: fifth-rates had from thirty to forty-four guns, whilst

sixth-rates carried only twenty to thirty guns. There were also in

the service smaller vessels classed as sloops, and others classed

as gun-brigs and bombs. The progress which had been going on in

rigging, during the early years of the eighteenth century, continued

in respect of size of tonnage and also in the weight of armament now

carried. Regard, too, was paid to the proper seasoning of timber. The

action of the Navy Board in 1719 established a scale of dimensions

and tonnage for the construction of ships of the six separate rates,

and this influence was felt for nearly a century after, although the

establishment was not always strictly adhered to. Improvements went

on with regard to internal structure and ventilation, and in order to

counteract the injurious effects of bilge water. The result was that

both the health of the ship herself and of her crew were improved

when once the foul gases accumulating below had been overcome.

Collaterally with the progress of the science of naval architecture

in England was the development in France. Ever since the time of Jean

Baptiste Colbert, during the reign of Louis XIV., France had stood

superior to any European Power in ship-designing. Nor were English

naval architects and shipwrights slow to avail themselves of whatever

opportunity presented itself for studying the lines and structure of

the foreigner. Whenever one of the crack ships of the enemy became an

English prize it followed that within the next few years an improved

English man-of-war, based on the design of the foreigner, would be

launched. As an example of the beautiful vessels which France was

capable of building, about the middle of the eighteenth century,

the illustration in Fig. 65 will at once be evidence. This is the

_Terrible_, captured from the French in 1747, and afterwards passed

into the English Navy. She was a two-decker with three masts, and

carried 74 guns. Her gun-deck was 164 feet 1 inch long, and her beam

was 47 feet 3 inches, while her depth was 20 feet 7½ inches. Her

tonnage worked out at 1590. The illustration has been taken from a

contemporary print in the Royal United Service Museum.

[Illustration: FIG. 66. H.M.S. “ROYAL GEORGE.” 100 GUNS, 2047 TONS.

FOUNDERED IN 1782.]

Fig. 66 represents H.M.S. _Royal George_, of 100 guns, one of the

most famous ships of the eighteenth century. Her size—2047 tons—alone

makes her remarkable, apart altogether from her good looks. Her

length on the keel was 143 feet 5½ inches, beam 51 feet 9½ inches,

depth 21 feet 6 inches. Built at Woolwich she ended her days as

tragically as another vessel we mentioned before, and owing to a

similar cause. While she was being careened as she lay at anchor in

Spithead for some repairs to her hull below the waterline, she sank

on August 29, 1782. To-day she is still famous as the ship in which

Rear-Admiral Kempenfelt, together with nine hundred men, women, and

children, went down to their graves. The illustration is taken from

an engraving, by T. Baston, in “Twenty-two Prints of several of the

Capital ships of his Majesties Royal Navy,” in the Print Room of the

British Museum.

Still another experiment was made in 1761 in order to find some

suitable method for sheathing ships’ bottoms. At last lead had been

finally discarded. But now the sensible plan of using copper was

tried on the _Alarm_, a 32-gun frigate. Finding that not only did

this preserve the ship’s planking, but also increased the speed of

the ship through the water, vessels of all classes were subsequently

covered in the same way. The plates of copper were affixed to the

hull, tough sheets of paper being placed in between the sheathing and

the hull.

[Illustration: FIG. 67. NELSON’S “VICTORY.” 2162 TONS. BUILT IN 1765.

_Photo. S. Cribb._]

Nelson’s historic flagship, the _Victory_, of 100 guns, was built

in 1765. Her immediate predecessor of the same name was launched in

1735, being the finest first-rate of her time, until she was lost in

a terrible storm off the Alderney Race, every one of the 1000 souls

on board perishing with her. The illustration of Nelson’s _Victory_

in Fig. 67 was taken recently in Portsmouth Harbour where this fine

old ship still swings to the tide. Her length is (measured on the

gun-deck) 186 feet, beam 52 feet, depth of hold 21 feet 6 inches,

whilst her tonnage is 2162, or slightly larger than the _Royal

George_ previously mentioned. The reader will notice the Jack flying

in the place previously referred to. Very interesting to us who have

traced its development is the stage at which the bow has arrived.

Gone is the towering forecastle, though the name still survives as

designating the fore-part of even small cabined craft. Even the

diminished rake of the seventeenth century from bow to stern has

disappeared too. In order that the reader may also obtain some idea

of the stern, and the three lanterns which would have been part of

the ship’s inventory when she set out for the Mediterranean on her

last voyage with Nelson, the illustration in Fig. 68 may be worthy

of notice. It is only quite recently that the Admiralty have added

these replicas, which look not a little incongruous as they tower

above submarines and torpedo-boats churning up the water below. The

flags flying in Fig. 67 were intended to represent Nelson’s immortal

signal. It was quite recently discovered, however, that the wrong

signals had been flown on Trafalgar Day each year, for the code of a

far too modern date was relied upon. This mistake has been rectified,

and the correct flags are now flown on October 21.

[Illustration: FIG. 68. THE STERN OF H.M.S. “VICTORY,” SHOWING THE

THREE POOP LANTERNS RECENTLY ADDED BY THE ADMIRALTY.

_Photo. S. Cribb._]

[Illustration: FIG. 69. CORVETTE, 340 TONS, OF ABOUT 1780.]

The illustration in Fig. 69 represents a corvette of about the

year 1780. Corvettes were vessels having far less freeboard and

without the high quarter-deck. They were ship-rigged and carried

less than twenty guns. Those carried on the ship before us would be

six-pounders. Her crew would number 125, her tonnage would be 340,

her length on the gun-deck, 101 feet, length of keel, 85·5 feet,

beam 28 feet, depth of hold 12·5 feet. As to her canvas carried,

the triangular headsails with the two spritsails will be seen. In

addition to her courses, she carries topsails, topgallants, and

royals on the fore and main masts. The converted lateen has already

been referred to, but it should be noticed that while she has on

the mizzen a topsail, topgallant and royal, and also a cross-jack

yard, yet no sail is set on the latter, as it is to-day on a

full-rigged ship. This yard had been in use since the beginning of

the seventeenth century, and it was not until 1840 that a Yankee

skipper took it into his head to introduce the sail which is known

as the cro’jack. The French, since from this spar no sail was set,

called it the “barren yard”—_vergue sec_.[106] It was during this

century that the frigate proper as a fast cruiser was introduced

into the English Navy. Still stirred to energy by the activity

displayed by the French, the dimensions of English ships were

constantly being increased during the last years of the eighteenth

century. The capture, in 1792, of the fine three-master _Commerce

de Marseilles_, with a tonnage of 2747, and a length of over 200

feet, came as a welcome prize to our fleet which had nothing to

equal her in respect either of size or armament. Again the design

embodied in her was carefully studied by our experts, and before

the close of the century two important improvements were made in

English men-of-war. The first was to cease placing the lower battery

so low down to the water. The reader will readily see that if the

enemy were to leeward—as in all probability he should be—our lower

ports must necessarily be kept closed unless there were only such

a faint draught of wind as scarcely caused the ship to heel over.

The French were thus at a great advantage in being able to fire

from every one of their guns down to the lowest tier. The second

improvement consisted in giving our newer ships a length far greater

in proportion to the beam.

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