From Elizabeth to Victoria
"Hearts of oak are our ships,
Gallant tars are our men,
We always are ready,
Steady, boys, steady!
We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again."
GARRICK.
WE have now followed the story of our navy, its ships, and its men up to
the time when the three-masted, many-gunned man-of-war with two or three
decks, and relying entirely on sail-power for propulsion, made its
appearance. This class of vessel, with, of course, gradual improvements,
remained the principal fighting-unit, not only in our own, but in all
other navies right up to the time of the introduction of steam power,
and indeed we may almost say later; as, though provided with engines of
no very great horse power, the sails, rigging, and hulls of our
line-of-battle ships at the time of the introduction of the ironclad
were practically the same as those of the ships which fought at
Trafalgar. We are, in fact, entering on the period beginning with the
time--
"When that great fleet Invincible, against us bore in vain
The richest spoils of Mexico, the stoutest hearts of Spain",
and ending with the imposing but indecisive operations of the combined
British and French fleets in the Crimean War.
Now this portion of our naval history is as near as possible all plain
sailing, and its course as well known as that from the Mersey Bar to
Sandy Hook to transatlantic travellers. I do not therefore propose to
conduct my readers through the glorious, though, if I may be allowed to
say it, somewhat hackneyed stories of the defeat of the Spanish Armada,
Drake's exploits on the Spanish Main, and the series of wars with the
Dutch, in which we met the toughest opponents we have ever fought with
for the supremacy of the seas. Neither do I intend recounting for the
hundredth time the magnificent record of the Royal Navy in its almost
continuous campaign against those of the French kings, the French
Republic, and the Emperor Napoleon, which, beginning early in the
eighteenth century, was only finally terminated by the downfall of the
great Corsican general at Waterloo. As far as all these are concerned I
have only to say: "Now the rest of the acts of the Royal Navy, and all
that it did, are they not written in the book of the chronicles of James
the Naval Historian", and of many other historians for that matter,
good, bad, and indifferent. No, so far I have endeavoured to keep a
little off the beaten track of naval history as generally presented in
books of this class, and until we arrive at our navy of to-day I propose
to keep this principle in view; and it is in accordance with this that,
before finally quitting the Tudor period, I propose to make a brief
reference to our experiences with the Hanseatic League.
[Illustration: DESTROYING A STRAGGLER FROM THE ARMADA
_From the painting by C. M. Padday_
The first Spanish ships to meet their fate were the stragglers from the
main body of the Armada. Above is shown one such vessel being engaged by
an English captain. The great Spanish galleon is quite at the mercy of
the smaller but handier vessel, which has got the wind of her enemy, and
is pouring a destructive fire into her prow.]
The adverse influence of this great confederation of German cities upon
our country for two or three centuries has never been sufficiently
emphasized in our histories. Possibly the earlier historians who were
contemporary with the Hanseatics were "got at" by their representatives,
who swarmed in this country and had an organized system of bribery, with
a regulated scale of bribes for all sorts of people, from the Lord Mayor
of London downwards. They seem to have been about the only people in the
later Middle Ages with ready cash in the north of Europe, and they were
glad to lend the Kings of England money to carry on their interminable
wars with France in return for various concessions, which generally
hit British trade pretty hard. They knew how to get good security for
their loans, and in Edward III's time they actually had the British
crown in pawn at Cologne! One proof of their tremendous financial
influence in this country remains to this day in the word "sterling". We
still say "one pound sterling", "sterling gold", &c. Now "sterling" is
nothing but a corrupted form of "easterling"--a man from the eastward,
as these Hanse traders used to be called--when they were not referred to
as "Prussians".
At the Conquest, and for long afterwards, we were a nation of
agriculturists, soldiers, fishermen, and sailors. Our only regular trade
was in wool, therefore known as the "staple" industry--generally "the
staple" for short. It was the desire to get their greedy fingers into
this our only "pie" that first brought the Hanse traders into this
country in force some time in the thirteenth century, though we had not
been free from them since the days of Ethelred. They were allowed to
make their head-quarters in the Steelyard in London (where Cannon Street
Station now stands), to import merchandise on paying a nominal duty of 1
per cent, to be licensed victuallers, keeping inns, hotels, and wine
shops, to have special courts of jurisdiction of their own, which put
them above English law, and actually to hold one of the gates of the
city. Have we not seen this financial, business, trading, and
inn-keeping undermining of British interests in our own day by the
modern easterlings?
Later historians preferred rather to dilate on our victories than to
refer to our encounters at sea with the Hanseatics, in which we did not
always show to advantage. For these traders, like their modern
representatives, were good pirates on occasion, had a considerable
number of fighting-ships at their command, and, according to some
authorities, had complete control of the northern seas. Nor was there
any reciprocity about their trading arrangements. They made a rule that
only their own ships were to carry the goods they dealt in, and sank
any English ship that attempted to break it. At the same time they would
not allow our ships into the Baltic to interfere with their trade with
Russia and Scandinavia, and now and again in return for some real or
pretended grievance attacked our seaboard and hung the crews of our
coasters to their own masts. All the time they were endeavouring to
strangle our trade from their London head-quarters. Like an American
"Trust", they were generally able to ruin individuals or smaller
companies which endeavoured to compete with them.
[Illustration: LORD HOWARD ATTACKING A SHIP OF THE SPANISH ARMADA
In this fruitless attempt to invade our shores ten thousand Spaniards
gave up their lives. England lost but one ship and about a hundred men.]
Naturally the "Prussians" were not loved in this country, and it is said
that Wat Tyler's insurrection was to a great extent directed against
these interlopers, the insurgents killing as many of them as they could
get hold of. But their influence with the Government always saved them
till the days of the Tudors, when, in spite of all obstacles, our
merchants began to make headway. Edward VI imposed heavy duties and
restrictions on them, and established an alliance and a trading
connection with Russia by sending a mission to Moscow by way of
Archangel. The marriage of Queen Mary with Philip of Spain gave the
Hanse merchants their chance, since the Prince Consort's father--Charles
V--was Emperor of Germany. The privileges which had been taken away from
the "Prussians" by her brother were restored; but they were not to hold
them long. Queen Elizabeth had an eye to business; she saw how the
Germans were hampering the development of our trade, and reimposed
Edward VI's duty of 20 per cent on the Hanse merchants of the Steelyard.
But she found that she still had to buy gunpowder and other munitions of
war from them, because she could not get them elsewhere, and she did not
like them the better for that. Neither did they like the reimposed
duties, and they were only too glad to assist the Spanish Armada by
sending a fleet laden with provisions and munitions to the Tagus. Drake
and the navy countered by seizing the whole of these ships.
The Hanseatics, who had already before this laboured "to render the
English merchants obnoxious to the other trading nations by various
calumnies", retaliated by turning every Englishman out of Germany. This
did not affect us very much, as, though there were a comparatively small
number of the "merchants of the staple" and the "merchant adventurers"
settled in that country, their trade and interests were not comparable
with that of the merchants of the Steelyard in England. But the
Hanseatics got a "knock out" blow in return from "good Queen Bess", who
turned the whole collection of German merchants out of England, "lock,
stock, and barrel", and so freed the country of a menace which, while
not so obvious, was probably more insidiously dangerous than the Spanish
Armada. Then followed the break-up of Germany in the Thirty Years' War,
and British trade came by its own. It does seem a pity that "once bit"
we were not "twice shy". Our historians are considerably to blame; but,
in any case, we ought not to have so entirely forgotten what a menace
German trade and German immigration might be to this country.
"What has all this to do with the navy?" may perhaps be asked. Possibly
not much at first sight, but in reality a great deal. If, during the
centuries the Hanse merchants were throttling our trade, we had
maintained a formidable and national navy instead of pursuing a
hand-to-mouth policy and utilizing our ships principally as ferry-boats
to take our armies over to France, we might have been in a better
position to deal with the Hanse League. We could have prevented
interference with our ships, forced our way into the Baltic, and
extended our trade. On the other hand, the navy was not a national navy,
but, generally speaking, a personal appanage of the reigning monarch,
who as often as not was very heavily in debt to the "Prussians". Gold is
a very powerful factor, even in naval warfare, if judiciously applied,
and not misapplied, as when some of our feebler Saxon kings bought off
the viking invaders with "Danegelt".
I am tempted, before leaving the Hansa, to relate a story of one of
their smaller naval operations, which, I must premise, is taken from a
German source, so you can believe as much or as little of it as you
please. But it is not a bad story in its way. Our King Edward IV had
fallen out with the King of Denmark, who, in retaliation for a real or
alleged piratical attack made by the traders of Lynn upon his dominions
in Iceland, set to work to capture our merchantmen, using apparently the
ships of his allies, the Hanse League, for the purpose. King Edward, in
his turn, at once closed the Steelyard, and, according to this account,
strangled many of its merchants, and demanded £20,000 compensation for
his captured ships. At this time there were a couple of rather big Hanse
ships lying in a Dutch harbour, the _Mariendrache_ and the _Anholt_.
Hearing of the English preparations for war, Paul Beneke, who was in
command, stood over to Deal under French colours to intercept the Lord
Mayor of London, who was expected to land there on his way back from
Paris in _La Cygne_ of Dieppe. How he discovered this we are not told.
By the use of French colours Paul Beneke succeeded in kidnapping the
Mayor of Deal and various other notabilities, who thought they were
going on board _La Cygne_ to welcome the Lord Mayor. The two Hanseatic
ships then put to sea, intercepted the real French ship and her consort
_La Madeline of Cannes_, took out their distinguished passenger and
whatever goods they had on board, and made for the Dutch harbour they
had started from. The omniscient Beneke knew that it was being blockaded
by thirteen small English ships and one much more powerful than either
of his, the _St. John_, possibly the _John Evangelist of Dartmouth_.
However, thanks to a fog, he got through the blockade undiscovered. Late
at night he, with one other companion, pulled out to sea in a
fishing-boat, and, under the pretence of being Dutch fishermen, went
alongside the big _St. John_ and asked leave to make fast astern while
they boiled their "beer soup" for supper. Permission was granted, and,
as the "beer soup" in question was in reality molten lead, they had not
much difficulty, under cover of the lofty and overhanging stern, in
pouring it into the iron joints of the rudder, so that it became
immovable. Then, "after supper", having thanked the obliging officer of
the watch, Beneke and his confederate made their way back to their own
ship. The following morning the two Germans stood out of harbour and
attacked the English fleet, and, as none of its ships were big enough to
put up any fight against them, with the exception of the _St. John_, and
she was not under control, thanks to Beneke's strategem, they are said
to have won a "glorious victory". Veracious or not, this tale has one
realistic touch about it in the evident desire to win by underhand means
rather than by fair fighting. But we seem to have been blown a bit out
of our course, and must get back to our point of departure.
Although Henry VIII is inseparably connected with the _Henri Grace à
Dieu_, this famous ship was by no means the only improved type of
fighting-ship which dates from his reign. There were, besides the great
ships, such as the _Henri_, the _Jesus of Lubeck_,[19] and others, a
class known as galleasses, without a raised poop and forecastle, with a
single tier of heavy guns, and a protruding spur or "beak" forward. They
had fully-rigged main- and foremasts, a mizen and a bonaventure
mizen--these last two masts very small and carrying a single lateen sail
apiece--and a long bowsprit. There is little doubt that these were an
adaptation of the Mediterranean galleys modified to suit Northern seas.
Ships were longer-lived in those days than at present, and though many
of those in Elizabeth's navy had originally belonged to that of her
father, in the newer vessels their constructors endeavoured to combine
the best qualities of both the great ships and the galleasses. The ships
of this improved type were known as "galleons", a word that is
generally, but erroneously, taken to refer only to Spanish ships. The
battleships of both nations were galleons at this period, but they
differed considerably in their general lines and in their armament.
Generally speaking, the Spanish ships were higher out of the water and
carried lighter cannon than our own. An Elizabethan battleship, then,
was rather longer than earlier great ships, and, though she still had a
comparatively high stern, it was not to be compared in this respect with
that of the _Henri_. The "fore castle" had come down to a very low
affair, the bows finishing with a "beak-head" adopted from the
galleasse, but with the spur at its extremity replaced by a
figurehead--generally a lion, dragon, or unicorn. The general uniformity
in colouring which marked the earlier Tudor men-of-war had been replaced
by a "go as you please" system, under which one ship had her upper works
painted red, another white and green, a third black and white, while a
fourth might retain the old regulation timber colour. Considerable sums
were expended in carving, gilding, and decoration in colour, not only at
the bow and stern, but along the exterior of the bulwarks. As regards
the armament carried afloat, at this and later times, particulars will
be given in a future chapter.
An old writer of the period takes satisfaction in pointing out the
superiority of the English over foreign ships. "As for those of the
Portuguese," he says, "they are the veriest drones on the sea, the
rather because their seeling[20] was dammed up with a certain kind of
mortar to dead the shot." "The French," he goes on to say, "however
dextrous in land battles, are left-handed in sea-fights, whose best
ships are of Dutch building. The Dutch build their ships so floaty and
buoyant, they have little hold in the water in comparison to ours, which
keep the better wind and so out-sail them. The Spanish pride hath
infected their ships with loftiness, which makes them but the fairer
marks to our shot. Besides the wind hath so much power of them in bad
weather, that it drives them two leagues for one of ours to
leeward--which is very dangerous upon a lee-shore." He states further
that the "Turkish frigots", especially those built at Algiers, are much
the best foreign ships; being "built much nearer the English mode", and
they "may hereafter prove mischievous to us, if not seasonably
prevented". The writer was perfectly correct in his last remark, as will
be seen in the next chapter.
Here are a few extracts from Sir Walter Raleigh's directions for
"clearing for action". The captain is to appoint "sufficient company to
assist the gunners", by which it would appear that the number of guns
carried had increased faster than the complement of "gonnars" allotted
to a man-of-war. If necessary, "the cabins between the decks shall be
taken down, all beds and sacks employed for bulwarks". The
"musketiers"[21] were to be distributed between the "fore-castell", the
"mast", and the "poope". The gunners were ordered not to fire except at
point-blank range, that is to say, until pretty close alongside the
enemy. An officer was to be specially detailed to see that there was no
loose powder carried between decks nor near any lighted gun-matches.
About the decks were to be distributed "divers hogsheads" sawn in half
and filled with water. No one was to board the enemy's ship without
orders; special men were told off to each sail; while the carpenter and
his crew were to attend with plugs and sheets of lead, some in the hold,
others on the lower deck, in readiness to plug up shot holes between
wind and water.
In the early Stuart period there were no very great changes in the
construction and appearance of our men-of-war, but they gradually--if we
may judge from their pictures--seem to have acquired a more
"ship-shape" look, and give one the idea of greater roominess. The
bonaventure mizen-mast disappears, so that there are only three masts
instead of four, and the mizen is provided with a topsail in addition to
its lateen. At the end of the bowsprit, too, appears a little top and
top-mast, while a square sail is spread on a yard slung below it. This
sail has a large round hole in each lower corner, to let the water run
out when it is plunged under water as the ship pitches. The _Prince
Royal_ was the show ship of those days, and no less than £441 was spent
on her carved decorations, and £868 on gilding them. She was our first
three-decker, if we include the upper deck, and had a displacement of
1200 tons.
[Illustration: THE _ROYAL GEORGE_ ENGAGING THE _SOLEIL ROYAL_ IN
QUIBERON BAY, 1759
Admiral Hawke in this engagement gained a decisive victory. The _Royal
George_ was the first of an improved type of ship. Her end was a tragic
one, for she capsized and sank at Spithead, taking 900 people with her.]
In 1637 was launched the much more famous _Sovereign of the Seas_. She
was a very handsome vessel, longer and lower in the water than the
_Prince Royal_, and 483 tons bigger. In the _Travels of Cosmo III_, Duke
of Tuscany, through England, about thirty years after she was launched,
the following account is given of her: "This monstrous vessel was built
in the year 1637 by King Charles I at incredible expense; for, besides
the vast size of the ship, which is an hundred and twenty paces in
length, it has cabins roofed with carved work, richly ornamented with
gold, and the outside of the stern is decorated in a similar manner. The
height of the stern is quite extraordinary, and it is hung with seven
magnificent lanthorns, the principal one, which is more elevated than
the rest, being capable of containing six people. The ship carries 106
pieces of brass cannon, and requires a thousand men for its equipment.
His Highness went to the highest part of the stern, and having walked
over the whole length from stern to prow as well above as below, stepped
into the handsomest cabin in the stern, where there were still evident
marks of the sides having been repaired from the effect of cannon-balls,
which sufficiently indicated that it had been more than once in action."
The _Sovereign_ was coloured outside black and gold, and had an
elaborate figure-head representing King Edgar on horseback trampling
on seven kings. During the Commonwealth and Restoration there were
continuous improvements in ship design, due, no doubt, in some measure,
to the constant fighting with the Dutch. Our naval constructors
naturally wanted to build better ships; they had the Dutch prizes to
study, and our sea officers saw a good deal of the French men-of-war,
which during the latter part of the war assisted them against the Dutch.
The _Royal Charles_ of 1673 may be taken as the link between the
_Sovereign_ and the eighteenth-century ships of our navy. She was a
handsome ship, rather smaller than the _Sovereign_, with a rounded stern
at the water-line, instead of its being put in flat like that of an
ordinary boat. This not only made ships built in this way, as they
always were after this time, stronger, but gave them more graceful
lines, as well as better ones for sailing.
The French about this time began to turn out ships on much better lines
than our own, and throughout the eighteenth century and part of the
nineteenth our French prizes were our best-looking and best-sailing
ships. However, a writer at the very end of the seventeenth century
makes the following comparison between the fighting capacity of the
French and British ships of the period: "Our guns, being for the most
part shorter," he says, "are made to carry more shot than a French gun
of like weight, therefore the French guns reach further, and ours make a
bigger hole. By this the French has the advantage to fight at a
distance, and we yard-arm to yard-arm. The like advantage have we over
them in shipping; although they are broader and carry a better sail, our
sides are thicker and better able to receive their shot; by this they
are more subject to be sunk by our gun-shot than we." At the beginning
of the eighteenth century the exterior of the bulwarks of the upper
deck, poop, and forecastle was generally painted blue, though
occasionally red. On this broad band, carved devices, generally
representing trophies of colours, arms, and guns, were placed between
the ports, which on the upper deck were round. Outboard a carved wreath
encircled them, which, with the numerous other ornamental carvings at
bow and stern, was profusely gilded. Below this broad blue band the
sides of the ship were of a yellow tinge, and were finished off, just
above the water-line, with a single or double black wale.
[Illustration: _Photo. Symonds & Co._
THE _VICTORY_ IN GALA DRESS
Nelson's famous flagship, dressed with flags in honour of the visit of
the French President to Portsmouth.]
The hull below this was painted white. The ship's sides inboard were
usually coloured red, in order, the story goes, that the crew should not
be affected by the sight of blood splashes in action. The gun-carriages
were often the same colour. The beak-head had disappeared, and the stem
curved up at a somewhat abrupt angle, finishing off with a big
figure-head, as often as not a lion. As the century went on it was found
that not only were the French building better ships than our own, but
the Spaniards also. Our ships might possibly have had thicker sides, as
claimed by the old writer already quoted, but towards the middle of the
century there were great complaints of their structural weakness, and in
1746 the first of an improved and stronger type was taken in hand. This
was the _Royal George_, memorable especially from her tragic end at
Spithead, where she capsized and went down, taking 900 men, women, and
children with her. In 1765 Nelson's _Victory_--perhaps the most famous
ship in history--was built. Thenceforward our battleships were
classified by the number of guns they carried. Thus the _Victory_ and
sister ships carried 100 guns. Then came 90-gun ships, 80-gun ships,
"74's", "64's", and 50-gun ships.
As time went on there was naturally a slight increase in size in the
newer ships, but they were not altered in type. Thus the _Hibernia_ of
1795 was of 2508 tons displacement, as against the 1921 tons of the
_Victory_, and mounted ten more guns. Perhaps the finest sailing
three-decker ever built was the _Queen_, begun in 1833 and launched in
1839. This ship had a displacement of 4476 tons, yet a picture of her
would almost pass muster for the _Victory_. The _Duke of Wellington_ was
built as a sailing-ship, but fitted with engines before her launch in
1852, and was very much the same to look at, except that her stern was
more rounded and had two or three projecting balconies or "stern-walks".
The _Duke_ brings us to the end of the epoch of wooden line-of-battle
ships. Iron ships protected with armour took their place, but these will
be dealt with in another chapter.
The external colouring of our men-of-war remained much the same up to
the battle of Trafalgar, though the carving and gilding grew gradually
less. At the Nile in 1797 there were ships of all sorts of colouring.
Thus the _Audacious_ had plain yellow sides, the _Zealous_ red sides
with yellow stripes. Most, however, were yellow, with different numbers
of narrow black stripes. This yellow and black developed into what was
known as "Nelson Mode"--yellow bands on the lines of the gun-ports, with
black bands between. It is this style with which we are most familiar,
on account of the many paintings and engravings of men-of-war in action
at that and more recent periods; for, except that later on the yellow
was changed to white, the fashion lasted till the advent of the
ironclads.
Having glanced in this cursory manner at the ships which flew the
"meteor flag" between the times of our two greatest queens, Elizabeth
and Victoria, it will be well to give some account, however brief, of
the costume of the men who manned them.
We have little or no personal information about the seamen of the
Elizabethan navy, but we know from their doughty deeds that they were
good men and true, and we also know that they, like their predecessors,
were pretty well paid and provisioned. Uniform clothing they probably
had not,[22] but in the reign of James I there is a description of a
masque in which appeared men dressed as "skippers", in red caps, short
cassocks, wide canvas breeches striped with red, and red stockings. The
six "principal masters of the navy" were provided annually with coats of
red cloth, "guarded", or faced, with velvet of the same colour, and
"embroidered with ships, roses, crowns, and other devices". But, though
this fine apparel was provided for the favoured few, the seamen began at
this time to be neglected, poorly paid, badly fed, and ill-treated--thanks
probably to having such greedy officials and incapable officers as the
Duke of Buckingham and other courtiers at the head of the navy. The
Venetian ambassador to James I reports the great falling off of the
British navy as compared to that of Henry VII and VIII.
[Illustration: "THE GLORIOUS 1ST OF JUNE", 1794
On this date Lord Howe achieved a victory over the French which was
considered so important that on the return of the fleet to Spithead the
King presented Howe with a gold chain and a sword valued at 3000
guineas.]
"Now", he writes, "it only numbers thirty-seven ships, many of them old
and rotten and barely fit for service." Never was it in a worse state,
and good men were naturally harder and harder to get. Charles I was
anxious to restore the navy to its former glory and efficiency, but his
persistency in demanding "ship-money" from his subjects led eventually
to the Civil War, which resulted in his downfall. The Commonwealth,
however, did what he had been ambitious of doing himself: it spent large
sums on the navy, and ships and men were once more in good case. With
the Restoration set in rottenness and corruption. Even Charles II,
though he was too careless or too incapable to remedy matters,
recognized the state of affairs. "If ever", said he, at a meeting of the
Council, "you intend to man the fleet without being cheated by the
captains and pursers, you may go to bed and resolve never to have it
manned." His brother James was more keenly interested in the navy, in
which he had himself served against the Dutch, and no doubt improved
matters in various respects, but the lot of a seaman was still a hard
one. It may have been at his suggestion, when Duke of York, that the
maritime regiment, of which he was the first commander, was raised,
possibly with some idea of its being the nucleus of a permanent
establishment.
[Illustration: A Matchlock and a Firelock, or Fusil (17th Century)
The constantly smouldering match of the former rendered it a very
dangerous weapon in the neighbourhood of cannon; the "snaphaunce", or
"fusil", was fitted with a "fire-lock", in which a spark was struck from
a flint.]
These early marines, who were not infrequently referred to as
"mariners", wore coats of the duke's favourite yellow with red breeches
and stockings, and carried the flag of St. George, with the addition of
the golden rays of the sun issuing from each corner of the
cross--possibly "the glorious sun of York", as Shakespeare has it. It is
interesting to note that they were the first fusiliers, though not in
name. For probably to prevent danger from lighted matches on board a
ship in action, they were armed with "snaphaunce muskets" or
fusils--that is to say, flintlocks instead of the matchlocks usually
carried by the infantry of the period. The 7th Fusiliers, who were
raised as an artillery escort a few years later, were armed in the same
way for a similar reason; and it is curious that, though never called
fusiliers, the marines have almost always followed fusilier customs, as
to uniform, in never having any officers of the rank of ensign, and in
their officers carrying fusils at the time when other infantry officers
carried half-pikes. We begin to find references to the familiar navy
blue about this period as being worn by seamen. In a quaint old work
published in 1682[23] the devil is referred to as having appeared to
someone in Newcastle "in seaman's clothing with a blew cape". And again,
in the description of the supporters of the coat-of-arms granted to the
Earl of Torrington, who died 1689, we read that they are "Two sailors
proper, habited with jackets and caps on their heads _azure_, with white
trowsers striped _gules_," i.e. red. The following is a list of seamen's
clothing or "slops" and prices, as authorized by James, Duke of York,
when Lord High Admiral in 1663:--
_s._ _d._
Monmouth caps, each 2 6
Red caps 1 1
Yarn stockings, per pair 3 0
Irish stockings 1 2
Blue shirts, each 3 6
White shirts 5 0
Cotton waistcoats 3 0
Cotton drawers, per pair 3 0
Neat's leather shoes 3 6
Blue neckcloths, each 0 5
Canvas suits 5 0
Rugs of one breadth 4 0
Blue suits 5 0
[Illustration: UNIFORMS OF THE BRITISH NAVY
Midshipman. Admiral. Flag-Lieutenant. Secretary (Fleet Paymaster).]
A "Monmouth cap" is said to have been worn by both seamen and soldiers,
and to have resembled a "tam-o'-shanter", but there appears to be some
doubt about it. It seems possible that it may equally well have been
what we now call a "fisherman's cap", or a cap like that worn by the
bands of the Household Cavalry, but with the peak turned perpendicularly
upwards. We sometimes see pictures of boats' crews in such caps at about
this period.
In 1706 blue seems to have been superseded by grey, seamen being
directed to wear "grey jackets and red trousers, brass and tin buttons,
blue and white check shirts and drawers, grey woollen stockings,
gloves(!), leather caps faced with red cotton;" also "striped ticken
waistcoats and breeches". Naval officers apparently wore what they
pleased, though there are indications that red was the favourite colour
right up to 1748, when a blue uniform with white facings and gold lace
was ordered by the King. But it is said that naval officers did not take
kindly to it at first, and in some ships tried to evade the order by
having but one or two uniform coats on board, which were only worn by
officers when sent away on duty where questions might be asked.
Red was now the recognized military colour, and, as mentioned
elsewhere,[24] naval officers took a long time to forget the old
military status of the commanders of the royal ships. Blue with white
linings or facings is said to have been the uniform of two regiments of
marines--who were "to be all fuzileers without pikes"--raised in 1690;
but this had no connection with King George's selection, which is stated
to have been due to his having seen the Duchess of Bedford, wife of the
First Lord of the Admiralty, riding in the park in a habit of blue faced
with white, which prodigiously took His Majesty's fancy. The seamen seem
to have worn grey and red up to about this time, when green and blue
baize frocks and trousers were provided for them. The sailor of this
period is described as wearing "a little low cocked hat, a pea-jacket (a
sort of cumbrous Dutch-cut coat), a pair of petticoat trousers, not
unlike a Scotch kilt, tight stockings, with pinchbeck buckles on his
shoes". The "little cocked hat" is elsewhere described as having its
flaps tacked close down to the crown, which made it look like "a
triangular apple pasty". This hat was gradually replaced by a tarpaulin
or straw hat, not a bit like that worn at the present day, but more
nearly resembling a low inverted flowerpot with a narrow curly brim.
Short, open, blue jackets began to be worn--"round jackets" they were
called--showing the check shirt or a red or buff waistcoat. The
trousers were longer than previously, and round the hat was often worn a
bright blue ribband bearing the ship's name. Black, or occasionally
coloured, bandana handkerchiefs were loosely knotted round the neck. In
Nelson's days it was a favourite practice of the seamen to sew strips of
white canvas over the seams of their jackets by way of ornamentation,
and to adorn them with as many buttons as possible. Pigtails were in
full fashion and of a portentous length and stiffness, leading to the
adoption of the square "sailor collar" to protect the cloth jackets from
grease. But though a regulation uniform had been prescribed for officers
there was no strict regulation as to the seaman's dress before 1857, an
exact reversal of the previous state of things.
In the early part of the nineteenth century captains very often dressed
their crews in "fancy rigs", but the short jacket, trousers taut on the
hips and long and loose in the legs, with a straw or tarpaulin hat--now
with a flat brim and lower crown--remained the general costume of the
British sailor until, after the introduction of continuous service, a
regulation uniform was laid down, as mentioned above. The marines, who
had originally been under the War Office, and had worn different facings
in their different regiments, were, in 1755, formed into the present
corps under the Admiralty and dressed in red with white facings, which
were changed to blue in 1802 on the occasion of the distinction "Royal"
being granted them, on the representations of Lord St. Vincent, as a
recognition of their services both in action and in the suppression of
various disorders in the fleet. One more change was made in the uniform
of naval officers, by William IV, who instituted red facings. It was a
temporary one only, for in about ten years the navy was glad to be
allowed to resume the time-honoured blue and white.
FOOTNOTES:
[19] Purchased about 1544, probably from the Hansa.
[20] Seeling means literally to "roll from side to side", but it is
evidently here used for the sides themselves.
[21] As guns of these days were called after animals and birds, the
"musket" received its name from "mosquito".
[22] The Elizabethan seamen, and indeed their successors, must have
inherited somewhat of the old Viking Berserkers' dislike of defensive
armour, or any equipment limiting bodily activity. Sir Richard Hawkins
complained in 1593 that though he had with him in his expedition to the
South Seas "great preparation of armour, as well of proofe as of light
corsletts, yet not a man would use them ".
[23] Law's _Memorialls_.
[24] Chapter VI.