Fighter And Seaman

Both New and Mediaeval

This continuation of Naval History follows on from: "Trajectories"

In our own day an officer of the Royal Navy is a paid servant of the state, belonging to a profession in which he rises from the lowly position of Cadet to perhaps, the lofty rank of Admiral of the Fleet by a series of steps, or "ranks."

He is a man who studies that profession carefully from an early age and continues in it, as a rule, as long as he is allowed. Briefly, he may be described as "a whole-time professional man, who rises throught the ranks."

The modern "Rating" of the Royal Navy may be similarly discribed. He too is a paid servant of the State, belonging to a profession in which he too rises; but this time he ascends from the rating of a "Boy" to that of Chief Petty Officer; though he now has many opportunities to become a Warrent Officer and even a commissioned Officer.

He too is a man who is trained in his profession carefully from an early age, and continues in it, if not on the average for quite so long as an Officer does, yet for a very considerable period, and for the best years of his life. He too may be described as a member of a whole-time profession in which he too rises, sometimes by ranks, sometimes by the equivalent rank.

The Royal Navy man, whether officer or rating, is a "whole-timer" just as much as other professional men. But in two important respects he differs from most of them. The first lies in this matter of "rising by ranks."

Nowadays this aspect is prominent in the eyes of everyone. When reference is made to "someone in the Navy," our impulse is to ask, "what rank is he? If and officer, is he a lieutenant or a captain, or perhaps an admiral? If a rating, is he an A.B. or a P.O., or perhaps a C.P.O.?"

It is, in fact, this method of arranging things which differentciates him, and his contemporaries in the other fighting services, from the practioners of most other professions.

It was a fairly new phenomenon in the Navy, for it is a feature of a "whole-time" service. It is very rare, in any walk of life which is "part-time", for there to be any conception of rank. These people may hold posts of varying importance, but not ranks.

The other aspect in which the practioner of the naval profession differs from the majority of his brother-professional men is historically more important, yet often forgotten.

Trajectories

Who exactly is who?

The Doctor is a body-healer, the Lawyer is an exponent of the law; and though there are distinct branches in healing and in law-physicians, for instance, and surgeons in the first case, and barristers and solicitors in the second-are practioners of the two branches, in each case, they belong to one basic profession, and one only.

The first both strive to make-or keep-folk well; the second both serve the same mistress, the Law. But this is not quite the case with the Royal Navy man. He belongs to two basic professions which, though they happen to meet in the naval profession, are really separate ones. He is expected to be a fighter, and he is expected to be a seaman. But Fighting is, basically, quite a different thing from Seamanship.

We can see about us thousands of men who profess the former without knowing anything about the latter-soldiers, for instance; or we can find thousands whose basic profession is the management of ships and who know nothing of fighting-men of the Merchant Navy, for instance. But the Royal Navy officer or man is both Fighter and Seaman.

This distinction is perhaps a little blurred in our own time. Nowadays the naval man tends to specialize within his profession, like anyone else in this age of specialization; the man who makes the ship go, has nothing to do with the firing of the missiles; he knows little about them; and vice versa. But this is only a recent develpoment.

If we go back a mere two-hundred years, we shall find that all naval men-at least all executive ones-were essentially both fighters and seamen. We must admit, that a man like Nelson knew nearly all there was to know about both sailing and the fighting of his ship.

This was not always so. There existed a period in our history when this dual thing had not been evolved. This does not mean that the two basic halves of him were unknown.

The Fighter, needless to say, is as old as man himself, and older; and even the professional fighter, organized in conscious military array, has existed for longer years than History herself can remember; and so has the Seaman-for ages, before Odysseus sailed the Mediterranean or the Phoenicians came to Cornwall for tin.

Evolution of the Fighting Seaman

It means that the two halves had not yet come together to form one. In those not-so-far-off days; if we may venture to edit Lord Macaulay's famous dictum; "there were fighters and there were seamen, but the seamen were not fighters, and the fighters were not seamen."

Nor, when they did come together to form one, did they do so at once. The finished article-the Fighting Seaman-no more sprouted up, like a mushroom overnight, than did the warships. He grew slowly, with deliberation which is so characteristic of any English institution.

It is scarcely possible for the true Fighting Seaman to appear before there was such a thing as a true Fighting Ship, because, until the fighting ship comes on to the scene, there was no truly naval fighting. It will be profitless to look for fighting seamen before there are fighting ships. But as soon as the latter arrives we must keep a sharp look-out. For, they will not be far away.

So we are back once more at about the point where the mediaeval and modern worlds meet. But we must take up the threads a little earlier. As with the ships, so with the men, we must discover what was happening in that "impermanent" and "private" period when the Old Navy flourished.

Many of the old milestones in the warship story stand out in this story also; and especially two of them-the fact that we used a "general utility" sailing ship instead of separate warships and trade-ships; and the introduction into our sailing ship of the great gun.

It was the first of these which made possible the two coming together to form the Fighting Seaman, and it was the second which achieved the feat.

The Seaman

When the "Mary of Bristol," sailed from Bristol, everybody on board was a "Merchant's Man"; there were no "King's Men." But there were officers and men; "personnel of the Merchant Navy." They were even then whole-time professional seamen, for seamanship had existed for centuries.

It was a respectable and honoured occupation, whose followers were free men, though they had a reputation for certain roughness and uncouthness. If he fought and got the upper hand, he wouldn't hesitate to throw the enemy overboard, and wouldn't worry if he didn't make his way ashore. He was what would be called nowadays a "tough guy"; and not in the strict mediaeval terms a "gentleman."

The man who commanded the "Mary of Bristol," was very likely called the Master; and very likely a tough guy, one of a breed, as they say, he was also a skilled navigator. He was responsible to his owner for the navigation and the general safety and well-being of the ship and crew.

He had his mates to help him, but the next most important man under him was the Boatswain. This officer is still with us, but he is not as responsible today as he was then. For then, his duty was to "make the ship go"; his responsibilties were the masts, yard arms, sails, ropes, etc. If the Master was the expert navigator, the Boatswain was, the expert seaman.

There was also the Carpenter, who mended things when they broke. There was also-last among the officers-the Cook, an individual whose importance needs no explanation. In addition to this little band, there were also, "the men," the "hands" the "Ship's Company."

These were not unlike the officers in most respcts, socially no doubt, one grade lower; rather tougher and a trifle more uncouth, yet free men still, and still very much whole-time professional seamen.

When the Merchant's ship reached the Tower she took on board her "castles" and her weapons, emerging as a temporary ship of war. But all was not yet complete; she now had her war material. But what of her war personnel? Her "fighting" element? When all of the hard work was done, the professional Fighter appeared-last.

The Fighter

Just as there were two grades of Seamen in the ship-the officers and the men-so there were two grades of Fighter who now arrived. But whereas in the former case there was probably no very great social difference between the two. Between the Fighting Officer and the Fighting Man there was an immense gulf fixed.

The Officer must be considered first. He was recruited, practically always, from the most important class in the land-the land-owner. In the Middle Ages, it is necessary to remember, the possession of land was the great, almost the only, hall-mark of both wealth and prestige; and fighting was regarded, in the social life of the time, as the profession.

So long as the Feudal System endured it could hardly be otherwise, since the main "service" which the landowner owed to his overlord-almost always "in lou of rent"; was military service. There was no other profession open to young gentlemen of a Feudal aristocracy. A young son or a weak child could sometimes enter the Church, where influence could secure for him a abbacy or a bishop's throne.

But that was all. To study Law or Medicine, or to dabble in trade was quite beneath him. It just was not done. Such were the state of things. When judged by modern standards, it was obviously a piece of snobbery; but that is not a very helpful way of looking at it, here.

It is much more to the point to realize that the universal tradition of the Middle Ages erected an insuperable social barrier between "fighting" officers, the land-owning leaders in a feudal society, and "seamen" officers. For no barrier is ever more impassable than one erected and maintained by custom.

The great ones always arrived last, becuase the menial tasks of preparation were not for them. They might be two in number-not more-and they would be called by titles which are familiar and very accurate. They were the Captain and his Lieutenant-the "capitanus" or "caput," the "head man"; and his "lieu tenant," his "locum tenens," who would take his place if anything happened to the big man himself.

They were military titles then, and still are. This was only right, becuase they were military men sent on board to direct, not only all of the fighting, but the fighting alone. They came on board and they instantly "went upstairs." The Captain probably stopped just short of the top, because the best quarters were usually to be found there.

The capitanus and lieu tenens

Now the arrival of the Captain must, from very early times, raised an important question of precedence; or as we shall now say, of "Command." Experience has always have shown us; that to divide supreme command was the route to disaster.

Who, then, was to wield it, the sailing expert or the fighting expert, the Master or the Captain? Naturally by right of birth as well as right of appointment-the Captain took charge. He was of "blue blood"; he was the King's Nominee, and, in language which is both mediaeval and modern, he "held the King's Commission."

Nor must we forget the cruise of which the "Mary" is bound is; warlike or a warlike adventure, undertaken by the Crown, often at its own expense. Nor can it be that, under these circumstances, and other things being equal, the Captain would perform the duty better than the Master; for not only was his warlike experience in all likelihood much greater than the Master's, but for the nature of society, he had much more practice in command.

So the Captain "took charge," and told the Master when to start, and where to go-after all, he had the King's orders in his pocket. But our forefathers were by no means lacking in horse-sense; and he never attempted to tell the Master how to go, unless indeed he were a fool.

Such things were the Seaman's job, of which he knew nothing. And this state of things led to a long-enduring practice in the naval service. So long as he lasted, the Master retained all but complete control of navigation.

The Captain very soon accepted as true without proof that unchallenged position in his own ship which he rightly holds to this day. But his authority, remained limited in this particular time. Long after he had become a practical and a whole-time seaman he was positively forbidden, from above, to interfere in any way with the navigation of the ship.

When that particular object for which the "Mary of Bristol" had been chartered was over, the Captain and his Lieutenant marched off the ship-first, this time, before the dirty work of "demilitarizing" began. and the "Mary" once more under her Master and his Boatswain returned home to Bristol.

So long as the mediaeval feudalized society flourished in full, the gulf between the Fighting and Seamanship was so vast that it could not be bridged at all. In the galley-using countries, it should be observed, things were much worse. The gulf was even wider and even less bridgeable.

"Making the warship go" meant, in Spain Slavery-the condition of no rights and no prestige at all. The gap between Fighting and Seamanship was the gap between the very top and the very bottom, and there was no prospect whatever of spanning it.

In England it was not quite so bad as this. The landowner never cut himself off completely from those below him in the social scale. There was always the chance-albeit slender-that a man might pass from one level to another, but also-which is perhaps more important-down.

There was never the same aristocratic hereditary of nobility and gentility, where every son of every noble was himself automatically noble. There was constant leakage downwards, and an occasional upward percolation. At the other end, too, the prospect was brighter.

The man "who made the ship go" in England was far from being a galley-slave; he was a respectable craftsman who was by no means at the bottom of it. The problem, of bridging the gap in England, though formidable, was not nearly as hopeless.

And it was done in time. This is why it may be said that the rise of the "general utility" sailing ship made the togetherness of Fighting and Seamanship a possibility. This too, is why the Fighting Seaman, like the Fighting sailing Ship, is really an English invention.

The Fighting Soldier

The fighting Soldier-the "rank and file," the "private" of those distant days. He was almost cetain to be one of the Captain's or Lieutenant's "men" (in the Feudal sense), taken from the plough or anvil on his lord's estates, and brought on board to fulfill the feudal obligation of service due from both himself and his lord.

Almost certainly he had little choice in the matter. He was no volunteer. And, like his officer, when his particular "naval occasion" was over he returned to his original occupation.

He was of no great account in the social hierarcy of his day; he was something of a "dog's body," apt to be regarded as cannon fodder. But he was solid, good and sound. He was the man, who not only defeated England's enemies in early naval battles like Sluys and Espagnols-sur-mer; it was his long-bow and stout heart, which overcame the chivalry of France at Crecy and Poitiers and Agincourt. He was just an ordinary English man.

The continuation of this Naval History will be called: "Family Likeness"

Fighter And Seaman Family Likenesses

"Pirates Trilogy" $20