In the following year, Phineas succeeded in attracting the notice of
Matthew Baker, who was commissioned to rebuild Her Majesty's Triumph.
Baker employed Pett as an ordinary workman; but he had scarcely begun
the job before Baker was ordered to proceed with the building of a
great new ship at Deptford, called the Repulse.
Phineas wished to follow the progress of the Triumph, but finding his
brother Joseph unwilling to retain him in his employment, he followed
Baker to Deptford, and continued to work at the Repulse until she was
finished, launched, and set sail on her voyage, at the end of April,
1596. This was the leading ship of the squadron which set sail for
Cadiz, under the command of the Earl of Essex and the Lord Admiral
Howard, and which did so much damage to the forts and shipping of
Philip II. of Spain.
During the winter months, while the work was in progress, Pett spent
the leisure of his evenings in perfecting himself in learning,
especially in drawing, cyphering, and mathematics, for the purpose, as
he says, of attaining the knowledge of his profession. His master, Mr.
Baker, gave him every encouragement, and from his assistance, he adds,
"I must acknowledge I received my greatest lights." The Lord Admiral
was often present at Baker's house. Pett was importuned to set sail
with the ship when finished, but he preferred remaining at home. The
principal reason, no doubt, that restrained him at this moment from
seeking the patronage of the great, was the care of his two
sisters,[19] who, having fled from the house of their barbarous
stepfather, could find no refuge but in that of their brother Phineas.
Joseph refused to receive them, and Peter of Wapping was perhaps less
able than willing to do so.
In April, 1597, Pett had the advantage of being introduced to Howard,
Earl of Nottingham, then Lord High Admiral of England. This, he says,
was the first beginning of his rising. Two years later, Howard
recommended him for employment in purveying plank and timber in Norfolk
and Suffolk for shipbuilding purposes. Pett accomplished his business
satisfactorily, though he had some malicious enemies to contend
against. In his leisure, he began to prepare models of ships, which he
rigged and finished complete. He also proceeded with the study of
mathematics. The beginning of the year 1600 found Pett once more out
of employment; and during his enforced idleness, which continued for
six months, he seriously contemplated abandoning his profession and
attempting to gain "an honest and convenient maintenance" by joining a
friend in purchasing a caravel (a small vessel), and navigating it
himself.
He was, however, prevented from undertaking this enterprise by a
message which he received from the Court, then stationed at Greenwich.
The Lord High Admiral desired to see him; and after many civil
compliments, he offered him the post of keeper of the plankyard at
Chatham. Pett was only too glad to accept this offer, though the
salary was small. He shipped his furniture on board a hoy of Rainham,
and accompanied it down the Thames to the junction with the Medway.
There he escaped a great danger--one of the sea perils of the time.
The mouths of navigable rivers were still infested with pirates; and as
the hoy containing Pett approached the Nore about three o'clock in the
morning, and while still dark, she came upon a Dunkirk picaroon, full
of men. Fortunately the pirate was at anchor; she weighed and gave
chase, and had not the hoy set full sail, and been impelled up the
Swale by a fresh wind, Pett would have been taken prisoner, with all
his furniture.[20]
Arrived at Chatham, Pett met his brother Joseph, became reconciled to
him, and ever after they lived together as loving brethren. At his
brother's suggestion, Pett took a lease of the Manor House, and settled
there with his sisters. He was now in the direct way to preferment.
Early in the following year (March, 1601) he succeeded to the place of
assistant to the principal master shipwright at Chatham, and undertook
the repairs of Her Majesty's ship The Lion's Whelp, and in the next
year he new-built the Moon enlarging her both in length and breadth.
At the accession of James I. in 1603, Pett was commanded by the Lord
High Admiral with all possible speed to build a little vessel for the
young Prince Henry, eldest son of His Majesty. It was to be a sort of
copy of the Ark Royal, which was the flagship of the Lord High Admiral
when he defeated the Spanish Armada. Pett proceeded to accomplish the
order with all dispatch. The little ship was in length by the keel 28
feet, in breadth 12 feet, and very curiously garnished within and
without with painting and carving. After working by torch and candle
light, night and day, the ship was launched, and set sail for the
Thames, with the noise of drums, trumpets, and cannon, at the beginning
of March, 1604. After passing through a great storm at the Nore, the
vessel reached the Tower, where the King and the young Prince inspected
her with delight. She was christened Disdain by the Lord High Admiral,
and Pett was appointed captain of the ship.
After his return to Chatham, Pett, at his own charge, built a small
ship at Gillingham, of 300 tons, which he launched in the same year,
and named the Resistance. The ship was scarcely out of hand, when Pett
was ordered to Woolwich, to prepare the Bear and other vessels for
conveying his patron, the Lord High Admiral, as an Ambassador
Extraordinary to Spain, for the purpose of concluding peace, after a
strife of more than forty years. The Resistance was hired by the
Government as a transport, and Pett was put in command. He seems to
have been married at this time, as he mentions in his memoir that he
parted with his wife and children at Chatham on the 24th of March,
1605, and that he sailed from Queenborough on Easter Sunday.
During the voyage to Lisbon the Resistance became separated from the
Ambassador's squadron, and took refuge in Corunna. She then set sail
for Lisbon, which she reached on the 24th of April; and afterwards for
St. Lucar, on the Guadalquiver, near Seville, which she reached on the
11th of May following. After revisiting Corunna, "according to
instructions," on the homeward voyage, Pett directed his course for
England, and reached Rye on the 26th of June, "amidst much rain,
thunder, and lightning." In the course of the same year, his brother
Joseph died, and Phineas succeeded to his post as master shipbuilder at
Chatham. He was permitted, in conjunction with one Henry Farvey and
three others, to receive the usual reward of 5s. per ton for building
five new merchant ships,[21] most probably for East Indian commerce,
now assuming large dimensions. He was despatched by the Government to
Bearwood, in Hampshire, to make a selection of timber from the estate
of the Earl of Worcester for the use of the navy, and on presenting his
report 3000 tons were purchased. What with his building of ships, his
attendance on the Lord Admiral to Spain, and his selection of timber
for the Government, his hands seem to have been kept very full during
the whole of 1605.
In July, 1606, Pett received private instructions from the Lord High
Admiral to have all the King's ships "put into comely readiness" for
the reception of the King of Denmark, who was expected on a Royal
visit. "Wherein," he says, "I strove extraordinarily to express my
service for the honour of the kingdom; but by reason the time limited
was short, and the business great, we laboured night and day to effect
it, which accordingly was done, to the great honour of our sovereign
king and master, and no less admiration of all strangers that were
eye-witnesses to the same." The reception took place on the 10th of
August, 1606.
Shortly after the departure of His Majesty of Denmark, four of the
Royal ships--the Ark, Victory, Golden Lion, and Swiftsure--were ordered
to be dry-docked; the two last mentioned at Deptford, under charge of
Matthew Baker; and the two former at Woolwich, under that of Pett. For
greater convenience, Pett removed his family to Woolwich. After being
elected and sworn Master of the Company of Shipwrights, he refers in
his manuscript, for the first time, to his magnificent and original
design of the Prince Royal.[22]
"After settling at Woolwich," he says, "I began a curious model for the
prince my master, most part whereof I wrought with my own hands."
After finishing the model, he exhibited it to the Lord High Admiral,
and, after receiving his approval and commands, he presented it to the
young prince at Richmond. "His Majesty (who was present) was
exceedingly delighted with the sight of the model, and passed some time
in questioning the divers material things concerning it, and demanded
whether I could build the great ship in all parts like the same; for I
will, says His Majesty, compare them together when she shall be
finished. Then the Lord Admiral commanded me to tell His Majesty the
story of the Three Ravens[23] I had seen at Lisbon, in St. Vincent's
Church; which I did as well as I could, with my best expressions,
though somewhat daunted at first at His Majesty's presence, having
never before spoken before any King."
Before, however, he could accomplish his purpose, Pett was overtaken by
misfortunes. His enemies, very likely seeing with spite the favour
with which he had been received by men in high position, stirred up an
agitation against him. There may, and there very probably was, a great
deal of jobbery going on in the dockyards. It was difficult, under the
system which prevailed, to have any proper check upon the expenditure
for the repair and construction of ships. At all events, a commission
was appointed for the purpose of inquiring into the abuses and
misdemeanors of those in office; and Pett's enemies took care that his
past proceedings should be thoroughly overhauled,--together with those
of Sir Robert Mansell, then Treasurer to the Navy; Sir John Trevor,
surveyor; Sir Henry Palmer, controller; Sir Thomas Bluther, victualler;
and many others.
While the commission was still sitting and holding what Pett calls
their "malicious proceedings," he was able to lay the keel of his new
great ship upon the stocks in the dock at Woolwich on the 20th of
October, 1608. He had a clear conscience, for his hands were clean.
He went on vigorously with his work, though he knew that the
inquisition against him was at its full height. His enemies reported
that he was "no artist, and that he was altogether insufficient to
perform such a service" as that of building his great ship.
Nevertheless, he persevered, believing in the goodness of his cause.
Eventually, he was enabled to turn the tables upon his accusers, and to
completely justify himself in all his transactions with the king, the
Lord Admiral, and the public officers, who were privy to all his
transactions. Indeed, the result of the enquiry was not only to cause
a great trouble and expense to all the persons accused, but, as Pett
says in his Memoir, "the Government itself of that royal office was so
shaken and disjoined as brought almost ruin upon the whole Navy, and a
far greater charge to his Majesty in his yearly expense than ever was
known before."[24]
In the midst of his troubles and anxieties, Pett was unexpectedly
cheered with the presence of his "Master" Prince Henry, who specially
travelled out of his way from Essex to visit him at Woolwich, to see
with his own eyes what progress he was making with the great ship.
After viewing the dry dock, which had been constructed by Pett, and was
one of the first, if not the very first in England,--his Highness
partook of a banquet which the shipbuilder had hastily prepared for him
in his temporary lodgings.
One of the circumstances which troubled Pett so much at this time, was
the strenuous opposition of the other shipbuilders to his plans of the
great ship. There never had been such a frightful innovation. The
model was all wrong. The lines were detestable. The man who planned
the whole thing was a fool, a "cozener" of the king, and the ship,
suppose it to be made, was "unfit for any other use but a dung-boat!"
This attack upon his professional character weighed very heavily upon
his mind.
He determined to put his case in a staightforward manner before the
Lord High Admiral. He set down in writing in the briefest manner
everything that he had done, and the plots that had been hatched
against him; and beseeched his lordship, for the honour of the State,
and the reputation of his office, to cause the entire matter to be
thoroughly investigated "by judicious and impartial persons." After a
conference with Pett, and an interview with his Majesty, the Lord High
Admiral was authorised by the latter to invite the Earls of Worcester
and Suffolk to attend with him at Woolwich, and bring all the accusers
of Pett's design of the great ship before them for the purpose of
examination, and to report to him as to the actual state of affairs.
Meanwhile Pett's enemies had been equally busy. They obtained a
private warrant from the Earl of Northampton[25] to survey the work;
"which being done," says Pett, "upon return of the insufficiency of the
same under their hands, and confirmation by oath, it was resolved
amongst them I should be turned out, and for ever disgraced."
But the lords appointed by the King now interfered between Pett and his
adversaries. They first inspected the ship, and made a diligent survey
of the form and manner of the work and the goodness of the materials,
and then called all the accusers before them to hear their allegations.
They were examined separately. First, Baker the master shipbuilder was
called. He objected to the size of the ship, to the length, breadth,
depth, draught of water, height of jack, rake before and aft, breadth
of the floor, scantling of the timber, and so on. Then another of the
objectors was called; and his evidence was so clearly in contradiction
to that which had already been given, that either one or both must be
wrong. The principal objector, Captain Waymouth, next gave his
evidence; but he was able to say nothing to any purpose, except giving
their lordships "a long, tedious discourse of proportions, measures,
lines, and an infinite rabble of idle and unprofitable speeches, clean
from the matter."
The result was that their lordships reported favourably of the design
of the ship, and the progress which had already been made.
The Earl of Nottingham interposed his influence; and the King himself,
accompanied by the young Prince, went down to Woolwich, and made a
personal examination.[26] A great many witnesses were again examined,
twenty-four on one side, and twenty-seven on the other. The King then
carefully examined the ship himself: "the planks, the tree-nails, the
workmanship, and the cross-grained timber." "The cross-grain," he
concluded, "was in the men and not in the timber." After all the
measurements had been made and found correct, "his Majesty," says Pett,
"with a loud voice commanded the measurers to declare publicly the very
truth; which when they had delivered clearly on our side, all the whole
multitude heaved up their hats, and gave a great and loud shout and
acclamation. And then the Prince, his Highness, called with a high
voice in these words: 'Where be now these perjured fellows that dare
thus abuse his Majesty with these false accusations? Do they not
worthily deserve hanging?"'
Thus Pett triumphed over all his enemies, and was allowed to finish the
great ship in his own way. By the middle of September 1610, the vessel
was ready to be "strucken down upon her ways"; and a dozen of the
choice master carpenters of his Majesty's navy came from Chatham to
assist in launching her. The ship was decorated, gilded, draped, and
garlanded; and on the 24th the King, the Queen, and the Royal family
came from the palace at Theobald's to witness the great sight.
Unfortunately, the day proved very rough; and it was little better than
a neap tide. The ship started very well, but the wind "overblew the
tide"; she caught in the dock-gates, and settled hard upon the ground,
so that there was no possibility of launching her that day.
This was a great disappointment. The King retired to the palace at
Greenwich, though the Prince lingered behind. When he left, he
promised to return by midnight, after which it was proposed to make
another effort to set the ship afloat. When the time arrived, the
Prince again made his appearance, and joined the Lord High Admiral, and
the principal naval officials. It was bright moonshine. After
midnight the rain began to fall, and the wind to blow from the
southwest. But about two o'clock, an hour before high water, the word
was given to set all taut, and the ship went away without any straining
of screws and tackles, till she came clear afloat into the midst of the
Thames. The Prince was aboard, and amidst the blast of trumpets and
expressions of joy, he performed the ceremony of drinking from the
great standing cup, and throwing the rest of the wine towards the
half-deck, and christening the ship by the name of the Prince Royal.[27]
The dimensions of the ship may be briefly described. Her keel was 114
feet long, and her cross-beam 44 feet. She was of 1400 tons burthen,
and carried 64 pieces of great ordnance. She was the largest ship that
had yet been constructed in England.
The Prince Royal was, at the time she was built, considered one of the
most wonderful efforts of human genius. Mr. Charnock, in his 'Treatise
on Marine Architecture,' speaks of her as abounding in striking
peculiarities. Previous to the construction of this ship, vessels were
built in the style of the Venetian galley, which although well adapted
for the quiet Mediterranean, were not suited for the stormy northern
ocean. The fighting ships also of the time of Henry VIII. and
Elizabeth were too full of "top-hamper" for modern navigation. They
were oppressed by high forecastles and poops. Pett struck out entirely
new ideas in the build and lines of his new ship; and the course which
he adopted had its effect upon all future marine structures. The ship
was more handy, more wieldy, and more convenient. She was
unquestionably the first effort of English ingenuity in the direction
of manageableness and simplicity. "The vessel in question," says
Charnock, "may be considered the parent of the class of shipping which
continues in practice even to the present moment."
It is scarcely necessary to pursue in detail the further history of
Phineas Pett. We may briefly mention the principal points. In 1612,
the Prince Royal was appointed to convey the Princess Elizabeth and her
husband, The Palsgrave, to the Continent. Pett was on board the ship,
and found that "it wrought exceedingly well, and was so yare of conduct
that a foot of helm would steer her." While at Flushing, "such a
multitude of people, men, women, and children, came from all places in
Holland to see the ship, that we could scarce have room to go up and
down till very night."
About the 27th of March, 1616, Pett bargained with Sir Waiter Raleigh
to build a vessel of 500 tons,[28] and received 500L. from him on
account. The King, through the interposition of the Lord Admiral,
allowed Pett to lay her keel on the galley dock at Woolwich. In the
same year he was commissioned by the Lord Zouche, now Lord Warden of
the Cinque Ports, to construct a pinnace of 40 tons, in respect of
which Pett remarks, "towards the whole of the hull of the pinnace, and
all her rigging, I received only 100L. from the Lord Zouche, the rest
Sir Henry Mainwaring (half-brother to Raleigh) cunningly received on my
behalf, without my knowledge, which I never got from him but by
piecemeal, so that by the bargain I was loser 100L. at least."
Pett fared much worse at the hands of Raleigh himself. His great ship,
the Destiny, was finished and launched in December, 1616. "I delivered
her to him," says Pett, "on float, in good order and fashion; by which
business I lost 700L., and could never get any recompense at all for
it; Sir Walter going to sea and leaving me unsatisfied."[29] Nor was
this the only loss that Pett met with this year. The King, he states,
"bestowed upon me for the supply of my present relief the making of a
knight-baronet," which authority Pett passed to a recusant, one Francis
Ratcliffe, for 700L.; but that worthy defrauded him, so that he lost
30L. by the bargain.
Next year, Pett was despatched by the Government to the New Forest in
Hampshire, "where," he says, "one Sir Giles Mompesson[30] had made a
vast waste in the spoil of his Majesty's timber, to redress which I was
employed thither, to make choice out of the number of trees he had
felled of all such timber as was useful for shipping, in which business
I spent a great deal of time, and brought myself into a great deal of
trouble." About this period, poor Pett's wife and two of his children
lay for some time at death's door. Then more enquiries took place into
the abuses of the dockyards, in which it was sought to implicate Pett.
During the next three years (1618-20) he worked under the immediate
orders of the Commissioners in the New Dock at Chatham.
In 1620, Pett's friend Sir Robert Mansell was appointed General of the
Fleet destined to chastise the Algerine pirates, who still continued
their depredations on the shipping in the Channel, and the King
thereupon commissioned Pett to build with all dispatch two pinnaces, of
120 and 80 tons respectively. "I was myself," he says, "to serve as
Captain in the voyage"--being glad, no doubt, to escape from his
tormentors. The two pinnaces were built at Ratcliffe, and were
launched on the 16th and 18th of October, 1620. On the 30th, Pett
sailed with the fleet, and after driving the pirates out of the
Channel, he returned to port after an absence of eleven months.
His enemies had taken advantage of his absence from England to get an
order for the survey of the Prince Royal, his masterpiece; the result
of which was, he says, that "they maliciously certified the ship to be
unserviceable, and not fit to continue--that what charges should be
bestowed upon her would be lost." Nevertheless, the Prince Royal was
docked, and fitted for a voyage to Spain. She was sent thither with
Charles Prince of Wales and the Duke of Buckingham, the former going in
search of a Spanish wife. Pett, the builder of the ship, was commanded
to accompany the young Prince and the Duke.
The expedition sailed on the 24th of August, 1623, and returned on the
14th of October. Pett was entertained on board the Prince Royal, and
rendered occasional services to the officers in command, though nothing
of importance occurred during the voyage.
The Prince of Wales presented him with a valuable gold chain as a
reward for his attendance. In 1625, Pett, after rendering many
important services to the Admiralty, was ordered again to prepare the
Prince Royal for sea. She was to bring over the Prince of Wales's
bride from France. While the preparations were making for the voyage,
news reached Chatham of the death of King James. Pett was afterwards
commanded to go forward with the work of preparing the Prince Royal, as
well as the whole fleet, which was intended to escort the French
Princess, or rather the Queen, to England. The expedition took place
in May, and the young Queen landed at Dover on the 12th of that month.
Pett continued to be employed in building and repairing ships, as well
as in preparing new designs, which he submitted to the King and the
Commissioners of the Navy. In 1626, he was appointed a joint
commissioner, with the Lord High Admiral, the Lord Treasurer
Marlborough, and others, "to enquire into certain alleged abuses of the
Navy, and to view the state thereof, and also the stores thereof,"
clearly showing that he was regaining his old position. He was also
engaged in determining the best mode of measuring the tonnage of
ships.[31] Four years later he was again appointed a commissioner for
making "a general survey of the whole navy at Chatham." For this and
his other services the King promoted Pett to be a principal officer of
the Navy, with a fee of 200L. per annum. His patent was sealed on the
16th of January, 1631. In the same year the King visited Woolwich to
witness the launching of the Vanguard, which Pett had built; and his
Majesty honoured the shipwright by participating in a banquet at his
lodgings.
From this period to the year 1637, Pett records nothing of particular
importance in his autobiography. He was chiefly occupied in aiding his
son Peter--who was rapidly increasing his fame as a shipwright--in
repairing and building first-class ships of war. As Pett had, on an
early occasion in his life, prepared a miniature ship for Prince Henry,
eldest son of James I., he now proceeded to prepare a similar model for
the Prince of Wales, the King's eldest son, afterwards Charles II.
This model was presented to the Prince at St. James's, "who entertained
it with great joy, being purposely made to disport himself withal." On
the next visit of his Majesty to Woolwich, he inspected the progress
made with the Leopard, a sloop-of-war built by Peter Pett. While in
the hold of the vessel, the King called Phineas to one side, and told
him of his resolution to have a great new ship built, and that Phineas
must be the builder. This great new ship was The Sovereign of the
Seas, afterwards built by Phineas and Peter Pett. Some say that the
model was prepared by the latter; but Phineas says that it was prepared
by himself, and finished by the 29th of October, 1634. As a
compensation for his services, his Majesty renewed his pension of 40L.
(which had been previously stopped), with orders for all the arrears
due upon it to be paid.
To provide the necessary timber for the new ship, Phineas and his son
went down into the North to survey the forests. They went first by
water to Whitby; from thence they proceeded on horseback to Gisborough
and baited; then to Stockton, where they found but poor entertainment,
though they lodged with the Mayor, whose house "was only a mean
thatched cottage!" Middlesborough and the great iron district of the
North had not yet come into existence.
Newcastle, already of some importance, was the principal scene of their
labours. The timber for the new ship was found in Chapley Wood and
Bracepeth Park. The gentry did all they could to facilitate the object
of Pett. On his journey homewards (July, 1635), he took Cambridge on
his way, where, says he, "I lodged at the Falcon, and visited Emmanuel
College, where I had been a scholar in my youth."
The Sovereign of the Seas was launched on the 12th of October, 1637,
having been about two years in building. Evelyn in his diary says of
the ship (19th July, 1641):--"We rode to Rochester and Chatham to see
the Soveraigne, a monstrous vessel so called, being for burthen,
defence, and ornament, the richest that ever spread cloth before the
wind. She carried 100 brass cannon, and was 1600 tons, a rare sailer,
the work of the famous Phineas Pett." Rear-Admiral Sir William Symonds
says that she was afterwards cut down, and was a safe and fast ship.[32]
The Sovereign continued for nearly sixty years to be the finest ship in
the English service. Though frequently engaged in the most injurious
occupations, she continued fit for any services which the exigencies of
the State might require. She fought all through the wars of the
Commonwealth; she was the leading ship of Admiral Blake, and was in all
the great naval engagements with France and Holland. The Dutch gave
her the name of The Golden Devil. In the last fight between the
English and French, she encountered the Wonder of the World, and so
warmly plied the French Admiral, that she forced him out of his
three-decked wooden castle, and chasing the Royal Sun, before her,
forced her to fly for shelter among the rocks, where she became a prey
to lesser vessels, and was reduced to ashes. At last, in the reign of
William III., the Sovereign became leaky and defective with age; she
was laid up at Chatham, and being set on fire by negligence or
accident, she burnt to the water's edge.
To return to the history of Phineas Pett. As years approached, he
retired from office, and "his loving son," as he always affectionately
designates Peter, succeeded him as principal shipwright, Charles I.
conferring upon him the honour of knighthood. Phineas lived for ten
years after the Sovereign of the Seas was launched. In the burial
register of the parish of Chatham it is recorded, "Phineas Pett, Esqe.
and Capt., was buried 21st August, 1647."[33]
Sir Peter Pett was almost as distinguished as his father. He was the
builder of the first frigate, The Constant Warwick. Sir William
Symonds says of this vessel:--"She was an incomparable sailer,
remarkable for her sharpness and the fineness of her lines; and many
were built like her." Pett "introduced convex lines on the immersed
part of the hull, with the studding and sprit sails; and, in short, he
appears to have fully deserved his character of being the best ship
architect of his time."[34] Sir Peter Pett's monument in Deptford Old
Church fully records his services to England's naval power.
The Petts are said to have been connected with shipbuilding in the
Thames for not less than 200 years. Fuller, in his 'Worthies of
England,' says of them--"I am credibly informed that that mystery of
shipwrights for some descents hath been preserved faithfully in
families, of whom the Petts about Chatham are of singular regard. Good
success have they with their skill, and carefully keep so precious a
pearl, lest otherwise amongst many friends some foes attain unto it."
The late Peter Bolt, member for Greenwich, took pride in being
descended from the Petts; but so far as we know, the name itself has
died out. In 1801, when Charnock's 'History of Marine Architecture'
was published, Mr. Pett, of Tovil, near Maidstone, was the sole
representative of the family.
Footnotes for Chapter I.
[1] This was not the first voyage of a steamer between England and
America. The Savannah made the passage from New York to Liverpool as
early as 1819; but steam was only used occasionally during the voyage,
In 1825, the Enterprise, with engines by Maudslay, made the voyage from
Falmouth to Calcutta in 113 days; and in 1828, the Curacoa made the
voyage between Holland and the Dutch West Indies. But in all these
cases, steam was used as an auxiliary, and not as the one essential
means of propulsion, as in the case of the Sirius and the Great
Western, which were steam voyages only.
[2] "In 1862 the steam tonnage of the country was 537,000 tons; in
1872, it was 1,537,000 tons; and in 1882, it had reached 3,835,000
tons."--Mr. Chamberlain's speech, House of Commons, 19th May, 1884.
[3] The last visit of the plague was in 1665.
[4] Roll of Edward the Third's Fleet. Cotton's Library, British Museum.
[5] Charnock's History Of Marine Architecture, ii. 89.
[6] State Papers. Henry VIII. Nos. 3496, 3616, 4633. The principal
kinds of ordnance at that time were these:--The "Apostles," so called
from the head of an Apostle which they bore; "Curtows," or "Courtaulx";
"Culverins" and "Serpents"; "Minions," and "Potguns"; "Nurembergers,"
and "Bombards" or mortars.
[7] The sum of all costs of the Harry Grace de Dieu and three small
galleys, was 7708L. 5s. 3d. (S.P.O. No. 5228, Henry VIII.)
[8] Charnock, ii. 47 (note).
[9] Macpherson, Annals of Commerce, ii. 126.
[10] The Huguenots: their Settlements, Churches, and Industries, in
England and Ireland, ch. iv.
[11] Macpherson, Annals of Commerce, ii. 156.
[12] Ibid. ii. 85.
[13] Picton's Selections from the Municipal Archives and Records of
Liverpool, p. 90. About a hundred years later, in 1757, the gross
customs receipts of Liverpool had increased to 198,946L.; whilst those
of Bristol were as much as 351,211L. In 1883, the amount of tonnage of
Liverpool, inwards and outwards, was 8,527,531 tons, and the total dock
revenue for the year was 1,273,752L.!
[14] There were not only Algerine but English pirates scouring the
seas. Keutzner, the German, who wrote in Elizabeth's reign, said, "The
English are good sailors and famous pirates (sunt boni nautae et
insignis pyratae)." Roberts, in his Social History of the Southern
Counties (p. 93), observes, "Elizabeth had employed many English as
privateers against the Spaniard. After the war, many were loth to lead
an inactive life. They had their commissions revoked, and were
proclaimed pirates. The public looked upon them as gallant fellows;
the merchants gave them underhand support; and even the authorities in
maritime towns connived at the sale of their plunder. In spite of
proclamations, during the first five years after the accession of James
I., there were continual complaints. This lawless way of life even
became popular. Many Englishmen furnished themselves with good ships
and scoured the seas, but little careful whom they might plunder." It
was found very difficult to put down piracy. According to Oliver's
History of the city of Exeter, not less than "fifteen sail of Turks"
held the English Channel, snapping up merchantmen, in the middle of the
seventeenth century! The harbours in the south-west were infested by
Moslem pirates, who attacked and plundered the ships, and carried their
crews into captivity. The loss, even to an inland port like Exeter, in
ships, money, and men, was enormous.
[15] Naval Tracts, p. 294.
[16] This poem is now very rare. It is not in the British Museum.
[17] There are three copies extant of the autobiography, all of which
are in the British Museum. In the main, they differ but slightly from
each other. Not one of them has been published in extenso. In
December, 1795, and in February, 1796, Dr. Samuel Denne communicated to
the Society of Antiquaries particulars of two of these MSS., and
subsequently published copious extracts from them in their transactions
(Archae. xii. anno 1796), in a very irregular and careless manner. It
is probable that Dr. Denne never saw the original manuscript, but only
a garbled copy of it. The above narrative has been taken from the
original, and collated with the documents in the State Paper Office.
[18] See, for instance, the Index to the Journals of Records of the
Corporation of the City of London (No. 2, p. 346, 15901694) under the
head of "Sir Walter Raleigh." There is a document dated the 15th
November, 1593, in the 35th of Elizabeth, which runs as
follows:--"Committee appointed on behalf of such of the City Companies
as have ventured in the late Fleet set forward by Sir Walter Raleigh,
Knight, and others, to join with such honourable personages as the
Queen hath appointed, to take a perfect view of all such goods, prizes,
spices, jewels, pearls, treasures, &c., lately taken in the Carrack,
and to make sale and division (Jor. 23, p. 156). Suit to be made to
the Queen and Privy Council for the buying of the goods, &c., lately
taken at sea in the Carrack; a committee appointed to take order
accordingly; the benefit or loss arising thereon to be divided and
borne between the Chamber [of the Corporation of the City] and the
Companies that adventured (157). The several Companies that adventured
at sea with Sir Waiter Raleigh to accept so much of the goods taken in
the Carrack to the value of 12,000L. according to the Queen's offer. A
committee appointed to acquaint the Lords of the Council with the
City's acceptance thereof (167). Committee for sale of the Carrack
goods appointed (174). Bonds for sale to be sealed (196)....
Committee to audit accounts of a former adventure (224 b.)."
[19] There were three sisters in all, the eldest of whom (Abigail) fell
a victim to the cruelty of Nunn, who struck her across the head with
the fire-tongs, from the effects of which she died in three days. Nunn
was tried and convicted of manslaughter. He died shortly after. Mrs.
Nunn, Phineas's mother, was already dead.
[20] It would seem, from a paper hereafter to be more particularly
referred to, that the government encouraged the owners of ships and
others to clear the seas of these pirates, agreeing to pay them for
their labours. In 1622, Pett fitted out an expedition against these
pests of navigation, but experienced some difficulty in getting his
expenses repaid.
[21] See grant S.P.O., 29th May, 1605.
[22] An engraving of this remarkable ship is given in Charnock's
History of Marine Architecture, ii. p. 199.
[23] The story of the Three, or rather Two Ravens, is as follows:--The
body of St. Vincent was originally deposited at the Cape, which still
bears his name, on the Portuguese coast; and his tomb, says the legend,
was zealously guarded by a couple of ravens. When it was determined,
in the 12th century, to transport the relics of the Saint to the
Cathedral of Lisbon, the two ravens accompanied the ship which
contained them, one at its stem and the other at its stern. The relics
were deposited in the Chapel of St. Vincent, within the Cathedral, and
there the two ravens have ever since remained. The monks continued to
support two such birds in the cloisters, and till very lately the
officials gravely informed the visitor to the Cathedral that they were
the identical ravens which accompanied the Saint's relics to their
city. The birds figure in the arms of Lisbon.
[24] The evidence taken by the Commissioners is embodied in a
voluminous report. State Paper Office, Dom. James I., vol. xli. 1608.
[25] The Earl of Northampton, Privy Seal, was Lord Warden of the Cinque
Ports; hence his moving in the matter. Pett says he was his "most
implacable enemy." It is probable that the earl was jealous of Pett,
because he had received his commission to build the great ship directly
from the sovereign, without the intervention of his lordship.
[26] This Royal investigation took place at Woolwich on the 8th May,
1609. The State Paper Office contains a report of the same date, most
probably the one presented to the King, signed by six ship-builders and
Captain Waymouth, and counter signed by Northampton and four others.
The Report is headed "The Prince Royal: imperfections found upon view
of the new work begun at Woolwich." It would occupy too much space to
give the results here.
[27] Alas! for the uncertainties of life! This noble young prince--the
hope of England and the joy of his parents, from whom such great things
were anticipated--for he was graceful, frank, brave, active, and a
lover of the sea,--was seized with a serious illness, and died in his
eighteenth year, on the 16th November, 1612.
[28] Pett says she was to be 500 tons, but when he turned her out her
burthen was rated at 700 tons.
[29] This conduct of Raleigh's was the more inexcusable, as there is in
the State Paper Office a warrant dated 16th Nov., 1617, for the payment
to Pett of 700 crowns "for building the new ship, the Destiny of
London, of 700 tons burthen." The least he could have done was to have
handed over to the builder his royal and usual reward. In the above
warrant, by the way, the title "our well-beloved subject," the ordinary
prefix to such grants, has either been left blank or erased (it is
difficult to say which), but was very significant of the slippery
footing of Raleigh at Court.
[30] Sir Giles Overreach, in the play of "A new way to pay old debts,"
by Philip Massinger. It was difficult for the poet, or any other
person, to libel such a personage as Mompesson.
[31] Pett's method is described in a paper contained in the S.P.O.,
dated 21st Oct., 1626. The Trinity Corporation adopted his method.
[32] Memoirs of the Life and Services of Rear-Admiral Sir William
Symonds, Kt., p. 94.
[33] Pett's dwelling-house at Rochester is thus described in an
anonymous history of that town (p. 337, ed. 1817):--"Beyond the
Victualling Office, on the same side of the High Street, at Rochester,
is an old mansion, now occupied by a Mr. Morson, an attorney, which
formerly belonged to the Petts, the celebrated ship-builders. The
chimney-piece in the principal room is of wood, curiously carved, the
upper part being divided into compartments by caryatydes. The central
compartment contains the family arms, viz., Or, on a fesse, gu.,
between three pellets, a lion passant gardant of the field. On the
back of the grate is a cast of Neptune, standing erect in his car, with
Triton blowing conches, &c., and the date 1650."
[34] Symonds, Memoirs of Life and Services, 94.
CHAPTER II.
FRANCIS PETTIT SMITH: PRACTICAL INTRODUCER OF THE SCREW PROPELLER.
"The spirit of Paley's maxim that 'he alone discovers who proves,' is
applicable to the history of inventions and discoveries; for certainly
he alone invents to any good purpose, who satisfies the world that the
means he may have devised have been found competent to the end
proposed."--Dr. Samuel Brown.
"Too often the real worker and discoverer remains unknown, and an
invention, beautiful but useless in one age or country, can be applied
only in a remote generation, or in a distant land. Mankind hangs
together from generation to generation; easy labour is but inherited
skill; great discoveries and inventions are worked up to by the efforts
of myriads ere the goal is reached."--H. M. Hyndman.
Though a long period elapsed between the times of Phineas Pett and
"Screw" Smith, comparatively little improvement had been effected in
the art of shipbuilding. The Sovereign of the Seas had not been
excelled by any ship of war built down to the end of last century.[1]
At a comparatively recent date, ships continued to be built of timber
and plank, and impelled by sails and oars, as they had been for
thousands of years before.
But this century has witnessed many marvellous changes. A new material
of construction has been introduced into shipbuilding, with entirely
new methods of propulsion. Old things have been displaced by new; and
the magnitude of the results has been extraordinary. The most
important changes have been in the use of iron and steel instead of
wood, and in the employment of the steam-engine in impelling ships by
the paddle or the screw.
So long as timber was used for the construction of ships, the number of
vessels built annually, especially in so small an island as Britain,
must necessarily have continued very limited. Indeed, so little had the
cultivation of oak in Great Britain been attended to, that all the
royal forests could not have supplied sufficient timber to build one
line-of-battle ship annually; while for the mercantile marine, the
world had to be ransacked for wood, often of a very inferior quality.
Take, for instance, the seventy-eight gun ship, the Hindostan, launched
a few years ago. It would have required 4200 loads of timber to build
a ship of that description, and the growth of the timber would have
occupied seventy acres of ground during eighty years.[2] It would have
needed something like 800,000 acres of land on which to grow the timber
for the ships annually built in this country for commercial purposes.
And timber ships are by no means lasting. The average durability of
ships of war employed in active service, has been calculated to be
about thirteen years, even when built of British oak.
Indeed, years ago, the building of shipping in this country was much
hindered by the want of materials.
The trade was being rapidly transferred to Canada and the United
States. Some years since, an American captain said to an Englishman,
Captain Hall, when in China, "You will soon have to come to our country
for your ships: your little island cannot grow wood enough for a large
marine." "Oh!" said the Englishman, "we can build ships of iron!"
"Iron?" replied the American in surprise, "why, iron sinks; only wood
can float!" "Well! you will find I am right." The prophecy was
correct. The Englishman in question has now a fleet of splendid iron
steamers at sea.
The use of iron in shipbuilding had small beginnings, like everything
else. The established prejudice--that iron must necessarily sink in
water--long continued to prevail against its employment. The first
iron vessel was built and launched about a hundred years since by John
Wilkinson, of Bradley Forge, in Staffordshire. In a letter of his,
dated the 14th July, 1787, the original of which we have seen, he
writes: "Yesterday week my iron boat was launched. It answers all my
expectations, and has convinced the unbelievers, who were 999 in 1000.
It will be only a nine days' wonder, and afterwards a Columbus's egg."
It was, however, more than a nine days' wonder; for wood long continued
to be thought the only material capable of floating.
Although Wilkinson's iron vessels continued to ply upon the Severn,
more than twenty years elapsed before another shipbuilder ventured to
follow his example. But in 1810, Onions and Son, of Brosely, built
several iron vessels, also for use upon the Severn. Then, in 1815, Mr.
Jervons, of Liverpool, built a small iron boat for use on the Mersey.
Six years later, in 1821, Mr. Aaron Manby designed an iron steam
vessel, which was built at the Horsley Company's Works, in
Staffordshire. She sailed from London to Havre a few years later,
under the command of Captain (afterwards Sir Charles) Napier, RN. She
was freighted with a cargo of linseed and iron castings, and went up
the Seine to Paris. It was some time, however, before iron came into
general use. Ten years later, in 1832, Maudslay and Field built four
iron vessels for the East India Company. In the course of about twenty
years, the use of iron became general, not only for ships of war, but
for merchant ships plying to all parts of the world.
When ships began to be built of iron, it was found that they could be
increased without limit, so long as coal, iron, machinery, and strong
men full of skill and industry, were procurable. The trade in
shipbuilding returned to Britain, where iron ships are now made and
exported in large numbers; the mercantile marine of this country
exceeding in amount and tonnage that of all the other countries of the
world put together. The "wooden walls"[3] of England exist no more,
for iron has superseded wood. Instead of constructing vessels from the
forest, we are now digging new navies out of the bowels of the earth,
and our "walls," instead of wood, are now of iron and steel.
The attempt to propel ships by other means than sails and oars went on
from century to century, and did not succeed until almost within our
own time. It is said that the Roman army under Claudius Codex was
transported into Sicily in boats propelled by wheels moved by oxen.
Galleys, propelled by wheels in paddles, were afterwards attempted.
The Harleian MS. contains an Italian book of sketches, attributed to
the 15th century, in which there appears a drawing of a paddle-boat,
evidently intended to be worked by men. Paddle-boats, worked by
horse-power, were also tried. Blasco Garay made a supreme effort at
Barcelona in 1543. His vessel was propelled by a paddle-wheel on each
side, worked by forty men. But nothing came of the experiment.
Many other efforts of a similar kind were made,--by Savery among
others,[4]--until we come down to Patrick Miller, of Dalswinton, who,
in 1787, invented a double-hulled boat, which he caused to be propelled
on the Firth of Forth by men working a capstan which drove the paddles
on each side. The men soon became exhausted, and on Miller mentioning
the subject to William Symington, who was then exhibiting his road
locomotive in Edinburgh, Symington at once said, "Why don't you employ
steam-power?"
There were many speculations in early times as to the application of
steam-power for propelling vessels through the water. David Ramsay in
1618, Dr. Grant in 1632, the Marquis of Worcester in 1661, were among
the first in England to publish their views upon the subject. But it
is probable that Denis Papin, the banished Hugnenot physician, for some
time Curator of the Royal Society, was the first who made a model
steam-boat. Daring his residence in England, he was elected Professor
of Mathematics in the University of Marburg. It was while at that city
that he constructed, in 1707, a small steam-engine, which he fitted in
a boat--une petite machine d'un, vaisseau a roues--and despatched it to
England for the purpose of being tried upon the Thames. The little
vessel never reached England. At Munden, the boatmen on the River
Weser, thinking that, if successful, it would destroy their occupation,
seized the boat, with its machine, and barbarously destroyed it. Papin
did not repeat his experiment, and died a few years later.
The next inventor was Jonathan Hulls, of Campden, in Gloucestershire.
He patented a steamboat in 1736, and worked the paddle-wheel placed at
the stern of the vessel by means of a Newcomen engine. He tried his
boat on the River Avon, at Evesham, but it did not succeed, and the
engine was taken on shore again. A local poet commemorated his failure
in the following lines, which were remembered long after his steamboat
experiment had been forgotten:--
"Jonathan Hull,
With his paper skull,
Tried hard to make a machine
That should go against wind and tide;
But he, like an ass,
Couldn't bring it to pass,
So at last was ashamed to be seen."
Nothing of importance was done in the direction of a steam-engine able
to drive paddles, until the invention by James Watt, in 1769, of his
double-acting engine--the first step by which steam was rendered
capable of being successfully used to impel a vessel. But Watt was
indifferent to taking up the subject of steam navigation, as well as of
steam locomotion. He refused many invitations to make steam-engines
for the propulsion of ships, preferring to confine himself to his
"regular established trade and manufacture," that of making condensing
steam-engines, which had become of great importance towards the close
of his life.
