How to express satisfactorily the condition of a ship by means of

symbols was evidently about this time a disputed point, as in a

register dated four years later an entirely new system appears, the

letters _a_, _b_, _c_ being used in conjunction with the Roman numerals

1, 2, 3, 4. Under this system, _a_1, an approximation to the now

familiar character, represented a good vessel; and _c_4 its antithesis.

Seven years later still, in 1775, the vowels again make their

appearance for expressing the character of the hull, the Roman numerals

being retained, and A1, as the symbol for a first-class ship, comes

on the scene. To decide what shall be the classification letters or

numerals used in describing ships of varying character is one thing; to

give to each ship the class to which it is justly entitled is another

and decidedly more difficult matter. So the London underwriters found;

but instead of treating the question as one in which many interests

were involved, they treated it as concerning themselves alone, and,

during the closing years of last century, came to a decision the sole

merit of which was its simplicity. The London shipbuilders of the day

got a better price for their work than the builders at other ports, and

consequently were able to, and admittedly did, turn out a better ship.

Further, it might be _primâ facie_ supposed that a ship, built even on

the Thames, was not so good after being afloat ten years as on the day

of its launch. Putting these two things together, the compilers of the

Register decided to class ships simply according to their age and where

they were built; such events as a ship newly built on the Tees being

occasionally better than a Thames-built craft of the same size that had

been knocking about the seas for five years; or a thirteen-year-old

ship under good management being actually in better repair and more

seaworthy than an eight-year-old one in careless hands, being held

to be contingencies needless to provide against. It was hardly to be

supposed that the shipowners would agree to a system of classification

which practically placed a monopoly in the hands of certain builders,

and which decreed that existing ships after a certain period would

lose their class, no matter how perfect their state of repair; and the

result of indignation meetings on the subject was the starting of a new

Register of shipping; thereafter known as the ‘Red Book;’ the former,

or underwriters’ register, being known as the ‘Green Book.’ From the

date of founding of the Red Book, the history of ship-classification,

from being fragmentary, becomes continuous; and, had the popular

saying, that competition is the life of trade, been of universal

application, great advance might have been looked for; the law of

supply and demand, however, stopped the way. There was not sufficient

work for the two Registers; each found it difficult to meet its

expenses without taxing its supporters; and although, during the thirty

odd years the rivalry lasted, some advance was made, still, during the

whole of that period the relationships of shipbuilders, shipowners,

shippers, and underwriters one to the other were on an unsatisfactory

footing. Nowadays, it is recognised—and no one thinks of disputing

the justice of the arrangement—that the shipowner, being clearly the

person most interested in his ship bearing a high class, should pay the

expense of all surveys. This apparently elementary truth was, however,

far from being recognised sixty years ago, the opinion then being that

the interested parties were the shippers and underwriters.

After the close of the war with Bonaparte, when privateering was a

thing of the past, and convoys of frigates were no longer required,

the shipping trade of England rapidly increased; each Register was

impelled to keep pace with its rival in adding to its number of ships

registered, and the expense of surveys increased in proportion, the

number of subscribers remaining but little altered. This was the

beginning of the end. By the time that a fourth of the present century

had elapsed, the rival Registers were in a hopeless condition; but

ten years more of trouble and dispute had to pass ere differences

were adjusted, jealousies set at rest; and the ‘Red’ and the ‘Green’

now united, commenced a fresh career of usefulness under the title of

‘Lloyd’s Register of British and Foreign Shipping,’ the new departure

dating from January 1835. The Committee of management of the new

Register was supposed to represent in equal proportions the interests

of the shipowners, shippers, and underwriters, and, so far as London

was concerned, it doubtless did so. With, however, that preference

for men and things metropolitan, not unknown yet on the banks of the

Thames, the interests of the other shipping ports of the United Kingdom

received scant recognition, and the result was the perpetuation of

grievances, the effects of which have lasted to our own day. Of much

greater importance than the mere union of the rival Registers was the

adoption of the system of surveying and classification, which, although

improved in detail to an extent then undreamt of, is in operation

still. It was settled that henceforth vessels were to be classed on

their own merits as at date of survey; that the class should be fixed

by the committee on the report of the surveyor; that vessels built

with a view to class should be under survey during the course of

construction; and that the shipowner should pay the survey fees.

At the date of the founding of Lloyd’s Register, and for untold

generations before, the one material used for building ships was wood.

Long experience had made its properties common knowledge, and it

might reasonably be supposed that shipbuilders would long since have

come to an agreement as to the dimensions, say, of the ribs, keel, or

planking of a ship of given size; such, however, was far from being

the case. Owing, possibly, in part to the fact of ships built at one

port being assumed inferior to those built at another, and the builders

accepting the situation, and certainly in part to the fact that the

rule of thumb was then the leading rule in British naval architecture,

the practice in one part of the country differed widely from that in

another. To induce the adoption of a uniform scale of ship scantlings

founded on the best practice was one of the first tasks attempted

by the Committee; but while its members were yet considering the

proportions of wooden ships, an influence was at work in the world that

was shortly to render their labours of small account. Along with the

old familiar click of the calker’s mallet, the dwellers by river-banks

began to hear mingle a new sound, the rattle of the riveter’s hammer;

and by the time Lloyd’s Register had completed its tenth year of work,

the _Great Britain_ had crossed the Atlantic, and the Iron Age had

come. The ship-designer found his business brought back at a single

step to the experimental stage, and the Committee and surveying staff

of Lloyd’s Register found that they had a new business to learn. It

is probable that every branch of human industry has been, at one

period or another of its history, the subject of trade secrets; iron

shipbuilding in its earlier days was no exception, and, as no builder

thought it his interest to initiate Lloyd’s Register, that body had no

share in the development of the iron ship. This was probably the best

arrangement; the days of competitive tenders and ‘poor man’s ships’

were yet in the future; and the men who launched the _Great Britain_,

the _Persia_, and the _Great Eastern_, were more in a position to teach

than to be taught. In 1844, Lloyd’s Register agreed, for the first

time, to give the A1 class to iron ships built under their survey, on

the surveyors’ report that they were of good and substantial materials

and workmanship; and eleven years later, their first rules for iron

ship-construction were issued.

Landsmen who voyaged in the wooden ships of the past were but too

familiar with the creaking that went on without intermission whenever

weather of a certain degree of roughness was met with. This was due

to a slight rubbing of the timbers one on another, and was no sign

of weakness, it being impossible with a yielding material like wood

to drive bolts absolutely tight. The amount of straining and actual

distortion that a wooden ship might undergo and yet remain fairly

seaworthy, was astonishing; and a go-ahead skipper preferred a

springy ship to a stiff one. With iron, the conditions were entirely

changed; rigidity proved essential to safety, and loose fastenings

were fatal. It was this necessity for rigidity that made it possible

to frame constructive rules from the observation of the behaviour

of comparatively _new_ ships, old and tried ones not being then in

existence. On examining an iron ship after a single voyage, the

surveyor, provided always the painter had not been at work before

his arrival, could point unchallenged to the weak points of her

structure—started joints, cracked plates, and bent bars, telling their

tale only too plainly. For reasons which are not far to seek, but

which need not be entered upon here, the rules for the construction

of iron vessels issued by Lloyd’s Register in 1855 did not meet the

success their framers intended. Greatly improved rules were issued in

1863; but it was not until 1870 that the Committee emancipated itself

from various obsolete ideas, and, under the guidance of the honoured

gentleman who now holds the position of Secretary to the Register,

issued rules in the form now existing. Various editions of these

rules appeared from time to time, each more comprehensive than its

predecessor; for some years past they have been issued annually; and

those now current leave little to be desired so far as completeness

is concerned. Lloyd’s Register grants three leading classes—namely,

100A, 90A, and 80A; the numeral 1, making 100A1, being added to keep

up the time-honoured classification mark. The system of classification

a century ago provided, as we have seen, for differing qualities

of outfit in ships otherwise bearing the same character, and the

numerals 1, 2, 3, &c. were used accordingly; but the fact has come to

be recognised that a good ship with a bad or insufficient outfit is

practically a bad ship, and the 100A class is not granted unless the

outfit be up to the requirements of the numeral 1.

In addition to the above-named classes, Lloyd’s Register will survey

and grant the class A for a vessel designed for almost any desired

service, the plans being submitted for their approval; for instance,

the swift steamers that carry the mails in connection with the

South-Eastern Railway are classed ‘A. Folkestone and Boulogne Passenger

Service.’ These special classes, however, are not taken advantage of

to any great extent.—Two classes of surveys are held—the ‘Ordinary’

and the ‘Special.’ The first consists in a given number of visits paid

to a ship at certain periods during construction; the second, in a

systematic inspection of the vessel at short intervals, from the time

of laying the keel to that of certifying to the anchors and cables

being the proper weight. The first of these, as might be imagined, is

open to various drawbacks; and few shipowners who desire a class at

Lloyd’s hesitate to incur the somewhat greater expense of a ‘special

survey,’ which, as it includes the machinery also if the vessel be a

steamer, practically saves the expense of a private inspector. Lloyd’s

survey only extends to the _structure_ of the ship, and takes no

account of the fitting-up of the cabins and other work connected with

the accommodation or comfort of crew and passengers; the class meaning

simply that, in the opinion of the Committee, the ship is strong and

seaworthy. The work of surveying is carried on in the United Kingdom

by about one hundred surveyors, who give their whole time to it; in

addition, about three-fourths of this number scattered throughout the

world give their services in part. The Committee of management, whose

headquarters is in Cornhill, consists of fifty members, representing

the different ports of the country, although by no means in proportion

to their relative standing, London securing about half the total

representation. The Register Book, which represents the results of

the labours of Committee and surveyors, is a ponderous volume, and

gives the particulars of all the vessels now afloat that have received

Lloyd’s classification, in addition to the particulars of numbers of

other vessels not so classed; in fact, the Register Book is a great

shipping directory, the ship, not the owner, being the leading feature.

Lloyd’s Register is not alone in the field of surveying and classifying

ships. Liverpool up till a year ago had a registry of its own, the

‘Liverpool Underwriters’ Registry.’ This has now united itself with

Lloyd’s Register, a fact which, for some reasons, is to be regretted.

Paris is the headquarters of the ‘Bureau Veritas,’ an undertaking

whose classification is in repute in Scandinavia, North Germany, the

Netherlands, and France; and which maintains a staff of surveyors in

the United Kingdom. This undertaking is not a representative one,

and on this ground has been objected to. It is doing useful work,

nevertheless; and its system of classification is superior to Lloyd’s,

inasmuch as it takes into account the service for which the vessel is

intended. A kindred institution to the ‘Bureau Veritas’ looks after

the shipping of Italy, and is known in this country as the ‘Italian

Veritas;’ while the ‘American Lloyd’s’ controls to a certain extent the

building of ships on the Delaware, but is unknown in this country, on

account of the well-known navigation laws by which only native-built

craft can sail under the stars and stripes.

Classification Societies are not an unmixed benefit to the community,

still less have they an unmixed influence for good on the design of

ships. Theoretically perfect rules would proportion the strength of

every individual ship to the _work_ it had to do; but, as Lloyd’s

Committee, through whose hands the designs for over eight hundred

ships probably pass in the course of a year, have no possible time for

going into such detail, standard types of vessel have been adopted,

the designs submitted being compared with these on the basis of their

_dimensions_ alone. The natural result of this is that ships are in

many cases built to suit Lloyd’s type; and the art of the ship-designer

but too often has degenerated into getting the maximum of advantage out

of certain dimensions which are known to bring the vessel just within

the limits of one of these types.

In the days gone by, ships were built for a certain trade, and kept

at it, the East Indiaman, the West Indiaman, and the Atlantic packet

seldom interfering with each other. The leading steamship Companies

naturally adhere to this system still; but, during recent years,

hundreds of individually owned ships have been set afloat, designed for

no special trade, but simply to carry the maximum cargo on the minimum

cost wherever a freight offers itself. It is largely from the necessity

of making its rules applicable to these privateers of trade that the

frequently grumbled-at oppressiveness of Lloyd’s Register arises. This

brings us to notice that some first-class steamship Companies do not

class their vessels at all; and it may cause surprise to many to know

that of those steamers whose rapid passages across the Atlantic have

made their names familiar, the majority are _not_ A1 at Lloyd’s. The

reason for this is simply, that a skilful designer who knows thoroughly

the requirements of the service for which a ship is intended can always

turn out a better and more economical vessel than one built to class,

a fact which more of the leading steamship Companies will doubtless

come to recognise before long. The rules of Lloyd’s Register for the

construction of iron vessels are growing in stringency from year to

year; a vessel built to class ten years ago, and which has proved her

efficiency by doing the work for which she was designed during all that

period without a complaint, would, if built to-day, require a large

percentage of additional weight put into her structure to bring her

strength up to the demands of the current rules. That this is so is due

to the fact that, up till quite recently, Lloyd’s Register has taken

account of one element only out of the several that the question of

the safety of a ship on the ocean involves. For years past, the aim of

the Committee has been to take from the shipbuilder more and more of

the responsibility which he at one time bore for the strength of the

vessels he builds, until now his share is practically _nil_; while it

has been but too evident for years past, from the disclosures that now

and again have been elicited before the Commissioner of Wrecks, that a

good ship may be badly stowed, overloaded, or undermanned, and, under

such circumstances, be in much greater danger from sea-risks than a far

inferior ship in good hands.

The aim of Lloyd’s Register is the protection of the shippers and

underwriters against undue risks, and the present high rates of marine

insurance show that this protection is not what it might be. If the

trouble and expense now devoted to securing strong vessels are not to

continue to be thrown away, as they certainly are at present in a fair

percentage of cases, the Committee will require to take steps to insure

that a ship bearing their highest class shall not take the sea with a

cargo badly stowed, an insufficient crew, or too little freeboard. The

question of freeboard is already engaging attention; the other points

cannot long be left in their present state; and the day will then come

when shippers will think with wonder on the times when premiums at the

rate of ten per cent. were paid for insuring cargoes in ships that were

100A1 at Lloyd’s.

DESTRUCTIVE INSECTS.

The Agricultural Department has issued two Reports by Mr C. Whitehead,

F.L.S., F.G.S., dealing with Destructive Insects. The first of these

treats of ‘Insects Injurious to Hop-plants.’ In the opinion of

the writer, there is an increased and increasing risk of loss and

destruction from injurious insects to many of the crops cultivated in

this country. We scarcely grow anything exempt from the ravages of

these pests. They attack corn of all kinds, fruit-trees, hop-plants,

clover, turnips, mangold-wurzel, &c. Although some kinds are well

known and long known, others are new, or, at anyrate, they have only

recently been noticed. In certain instances they appear to have been

imported with the plant, as, for example, the mangold-wurzel fly,

_Anthomyia betæ_, which, within the last five years—contrary to the

opinion of Curtis, who, writing in 1859, thought its injuries would

not be of much consequence—has wrought much mischief. The turnip-fly

again, which originally fed upon charlock and other cruciferous plants,

has now quitted these, because the turnip supplies more suitable food.

With its increased cultivation, this fly has multiplied enormously,

as the farmer knows to his cost, for, in seasons favourable to its

development, it sometimes destroys whole fields and causes great loss.

Cultivation is not only favourable to such old offenders, but it seems

to have introduced entirely new ones; at least, the farmer now finds

that wheat, clover, and other crops raised by rotation in the same

fields, suffer injuries from insects, which, if they existed formerly,

escaped notice. It may be, however, that the scientific spirit of late

introduced into agriculture has only just discovered what in many cases

has always been going on. At the same time, it is universally admitted

that the destruction occasioned by insects is larger than ever it was,

and that there are insects at work in the fields which were little, if

at all, known to our forefathers.

One very good reason for the progressive increase of agricultural

plagues is that they multiply proportionately at a much quicker rate

than the plants on which they feed. We are actually rearing them

artificially, and the problem is how to cultivate crops without at

the same time cultivating these parasites. High-farming, by pampering

plants, no doubt renders them more delicate and more liable to attack;

but perhaps we help to make our own trouble by not exercising ordinary

caution. Certain it is that destructive insects are imported into, as

they are exported out of, this country. The agricultural produce which

we bring from various parts of the world must contain many unwelcome

visitors, though, fortunately, our climate does not agree with the

majority of them. Like the famous Colorado Beetle, even if allowed a

fair chance, they would scarcely thrive. Others there are with the

Scotsman’s reputation of being able to do well anywhere. They only

require a suitable plant to feel perfectly at home. They sometimes get

‘assisted’ emigration at the cost of their favourites, like the hop

aphis, which was introduced into America among hop-roots sent from

England. The former country has by entomologists been styled ‘the home

of insects;’ but, to Europe’s loss, one highly interesting though

destructive American crossed the Atlantic—namely, the phylloxera, so

destructive to vines. An individual that undergoes various puzzling

transformations is not readily identified, and the hop aphis, having

these disguises, has alarming opportunities of getting a footing where

it is least wanted. Indeed, all such destructive insects should receive

more study than they have hitherto obtained. Within the last few years,

scale insects were introduced into the Californian orange groves from

Australia; and orange, citron, and lemon growers in other parts of the

world are now complaining of pests of a similar nature. Considering

the evil which has been already accomplished, it is highly important

that farmers, fruit-growers, gardeners, and all who cultivate the land

should be made acquainted with all that is known regarding the insects

which attack their several crops.

The hop-plant in particular has many enemies, some of them so

destructive, that if not checked, they would soon ruin the grower.

Within the last thirty years, it is believed the liability of this

plant to attack by insects has considerably increased. Hop-planters

assert that insects now destroy their crops which were not known in

the plantations until recently. Mr Whitehead selects ten of the most

troublesome species, and gives descriptions of each insect, together

with its life-history, its modes of attack, and the injury to the hop

resulting therefrom; also a detailed account of methods of prevention,

and of measures which have been found efficacious in stopping or

alleviating these attacks.

Mr Whitehead originally intended to confine his second Report to

insects injurious to corncrops; but as the work progressed, it was

found desirable to include those destructive to grasscrops, as some

insects are common to both. While dealing with cereals, he also thought

it well to treat pulse, under which title are included plants such as

peas, beans, and tares, and to describe the principal insects which

affect them, especially as they are all crops liable to be attacked

by the same insects. A description of a genus the most injurious to

different kinds of clover, is also given. To include comparatively

harmless insects in a work which is intended not so much for scientific

purposes as to enlighten farmers and others regarding the pests which

molest them most, was not necessary. For sufficient reasons it has

been found most expedient neither to arrange them alphabetically nor

according to a recognised scientific classification, but to take

the insects of each group as far as possible in the order of their

injurious effects. Indeed, there are included what, in the scientific

acceptation of the term, are not insects at all. But the Report was

written to convey useful and practical instruction to the cultivators

of the soil, and wisely it was done in the manner which was likely

to benefit them most. ‘With regard to these’ (the chief pests),

Mr Whitehead writes, ‘it has been endeavoured to collect all the

information that is known about them, and to bring this down to the

latest date. It is believed that each monograph is a _résumé_ of all

that is known of its subject, of its life-history, and the means of

prevention, and remedies against it. It is admitted that in several

instances the information is still imperfect; and in compiling this

series of Reports, I have been more than ever impressed with the

necessity of enlisting skilled workers in this cause, as well as

of urging and encouraging habits of observation amongst those who

superintend the cultivation of the land and those who work upon it.’

A NURSE.

Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, fifth series, no. 146, vol. III, October 16, 1886 · 第 3 / 4 段