In the fifteenth century we come upon the 'Henri Grâce à Dieu,' built
for Henry VII., which is the nearest approach to a ship as we understand
it. It is a four-master, with bowsprit, and three yards on each mast,
with main and fore tops, and shrouds reaching up to the caps; a vessel
fairly bristling with guns, and having seven decks to the cabin and
eleven to the top deck of the forecastle. At this time Columbus had
discovered the New World, and men were paying attention to navigation as
a science.
The next advance is the 'Sovereign of the Seas,' built in 1637 for
Charles I.: a three-master, and very nearly perfect in the matter of
symmetry. Between the building of the 'Sovereign' and the 'Grâce à
Dieu' England had made her first bold bid for the supremacy of the seas,
and distinguished herself as a great maritime nation by giving birth to
such heroes as Drake and Frobisher; after this she steadily advanced in
her sea craft. The Armada was won by splendid sailors and very sorry
ships, as far as appearance went; but after this date they improved
until they reached perfection, as we can see in such ships as the 'Royal
William,' 1670, on to the splendid wooden frigates and man-of-war ships
carrying from seventy-four to one hundred and twenty guns, such as the
'Victory,' immortalised by the death of Nelson.
Those grand old days, when the ship and the men she carried were one and
indivisible, are a dream of the past. When we began to sheathe our ships
with iron and reduce our masts and rigging until they became shapeless
monsters, the pride and security of the sailor vanished. The ship is no
longer a portion of himself, it has become a dangerous machine, and he
is only a passenger on board. In olden times, when the ball tore up the
ship's side, the heart of the British seaman bled with her, and while
she waited like a wounded lioness on his aid, and he rushed with his
plugs and oakum to stop the rent or fix up the broken yard or mast, they
were as man and wife; now, like a treacherous monster, the ship goes to
the bottom when hit, and destroys all on board.
[Illustration: Fishing Boats.]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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