Old For New
Is the change from Wood to Iron
This continuation of Naval History following on from: "Fuel"
The change from Wood to Iron need take less time in the telling
than that from Sail to Steam, for three reasons; the first, because it is a shorter story; next, because it is less complex in nature; and last, because many of the points in it are closely paralled in the earlier writings.
First, iron is a basic material in ship-construction. Next, the
story is one of a simple change of material. And last, the nervous pessimist who kept repeating, "don't trust the engine, it will let you down!" has his obvious counterpart in the dismal Jeremiah who croaked, "Yes, but iron won't float!"
For that was the constant charge made against that material; and
a plea has the fictitious strength of being literally true, under the most simple of circumstances. What the croaker did not realize, was that an iron ship need not be heavier than a wooden one, because the strength of the metal is so much greater than that of wood that its thickness can safely be made proportionately less.
Iron ships, that were used mainly to carry heavy weights on canals and inland waterways, were built in small numbers during the last two decades of the eighteenth century.
But it was not until the year of Waterloo that an iron pleasure-boat appeared on the Mersey, and provided a nine-day's wonder. In 1820, an iron steamer suitable for sea-work was built, and named after her designer, the "Aaron Manby."
This venture owed much to the enterprise of Admiral Sir Charles
Napier. He seems to have tried to interest the Admiralty in it,
but he failed. He did, however, take it across the Channel and up
the Seine to Paris in 1822. Where it attracted considerable attention in a land already much more perceptive than ours of shipbuilding ideas.
Thereafter sea-going iron ships were built in increasing, but not great numbers, to meet the needs, even outside the Navy. Almost everyone indulged in it including ship-owners, ship-designers and ship-builders.
Fuel
The Great Britain
That great engineer I. K. Brunel, was the exception, he was bold
enough, in 1838, to lay down the "Great Britain," the first really big iron ship for translantic work. Contrary to most people's expectations, she was a striking success, and contrived even in misfortune, to be a magnificent advertisement for "iron."
On her fourth trip she accidentally ran aground off Ireland, and
effort after effort failed to refloat her, she remained stuck
there for nearly a year. When finally she was rescued, and to
the amazement of the scoffers, she was was hardly damaged. Many
a sceptic was thereupon converted, admitting that mere wood
could never have held together at all under such a test.
Meanwhile in 1839, there had been built a pair of iron gunboats
designed for war. They were not Royal Navy ships, but they were
the next thing to it-they were built for the East India Company.
They were comandeered and did sterling work in the China War of
1842, and one of them-the "Nemesis-unwittingly advertised "iron"
in the same way as the "Great Britain" had done by going ashore
on the rocks of Scilly and surving the ordeal.
She also advertised another innovation. She had been fitted while in China with watertight bulkheads, something unkown in England; and it was these quite as much as her iron hull that she owed her deliverence from ruin.
The Urge was for Iron
It was the "urge" which impelled the friends of "iron," and which brought them to victory. It was probably, the fact that wood, was no longer a strong enough material for the new things which men wanted to put into their ships.
There was already a tendency for the number of guns to increase, including to greatly increase in size and weight, and thereafter in the violence of their recoil. And then there were the engines-some of them were monstrous things, in the eyes of a modern, and in comparison with the insignificant power they produced.
The strains and stresses imposed upon the ships' fabric by these
slow and clumsy mechanical devices, and because of their great
weight-which were in frequent motion-did not fall evenly over the whole fabric. They set up local strains and stresses in comparatively small areas.
This could be-and was-remedied to some extent by inserting straps, braces and ties and at least near the required spots. But, that did little to strengthen the whole structure; and the iron of the straps and bolts did not agree with or work in harmony with the wood of the fabric.
It bit into the wood or wrenched it just where the greatest strain could cause the most trouble, and failed to spread the strain evenly throughout the structure of the ship.
Wood, by itself, had long been man's trusted friend, and still was, providing its natural strength was not overburdened. But, at this time iron was, justifying itself. But the marriage of wood and iron was clearly unsatisfactory.
Iron was still not acceptable
The best non-naval ship experts soon began to realize the problem, and whenever they were bold enough to stand up to the conservatism of their employers, and persuaded them, which Brunel did, that the true answer was a complete turn-over to iron.
The Admiralty's experts naturally reached the same conclusion, since their ships would be expected to carry at least as great a share of the new and disturbing weights. Here the Admiralty did not have any obstructions like they had on previouse occasions.
In 1840, the Admiralty ordered a small iron packet-ship, the "Dover," it has the distinction of being the first iron ship of the Royal Navy; and the matter passed without undue public criticism. But in the 1840s, a Government Department was by no means a free agent; it had to reckon with Public Opinion.
If Brunel could persuade his directors to let him build an iron ship, that was their look-out. The Great uninformed could do little about it. At worst they could refuse to travel in the completed vessel.
But when the Admiralty so far as gave way, as it did in 1843, and gave the authorizeation for a small flotilla of iron frigates, there arose at once such a mighty scream of mingled fear and rage that no government dependent on a majority of votes could venture to ignore it and survive.
It did not give way without a struggle; it even ordered some more in 1846. Then, desrted by the former champion of iron, Sir Charles Napier, it hesitated and was lost. A curious series of tests was carried out, in the last of which, in 1851, a verdict dead against iron was returned.
Shot and shell, it was stated, would tear through the thin sides. The judgment may have been passed in good faith, but it came at a moment when it could not fail to look like a timely piece of face-saving. The frigates were immediately degraded to the status of unarmed troop transporters. One of them, the "Birkenhead," was lost by shipwreck with 436 men off South Africa in February 1852.
The sentimentalists-"Hands-off our Wooden Ships!" had won a thoroughly undeserved victory.
Iron was looked upon
As a very dangerous material
We used no iron ships in the Crimean War, nor did that conflict help greatly in deciding the issue. The main evidence it offered was negative. Iron might be a dangerous material to be behind when in action, because of the splinters, but wood was no better-and many now began to say it was worse-becuase the new shells now coming into use, showed regrettable ability to set the wood on fire.
Again it was the French who stung us into action. Soon after the war they began to build an emmense frigate called "La Gloir"-a cut-down wooden two-decker plated with a 4.75 inches of belt of armour. In 1859, the year she was launched, we replied by laying down the "Warrior."
This famous warship, taken all in all, is perhaps the most
revolutionary warship ever built. She closes one era and opens another. She was also a triumph for reborn British initiative, and courage in shipbuilding.
"H.M.S. Warrior" was the first Iron Armoured Battleship ever to be built; she is currently open to the public at Portsmouth Dockyard.
She was the very first warship of the "capital" sort to be built entirely of iron. Her architects at last showed true foresight. They realized in time that armour had come to stay; the penetrative and disruptive power of guns was growing, so the thickness of armour had to grow also.
As we have seen, the staying power of wood was strained to the utmost. It could not reasonably be expected to bear the enormous dead-weight of so much additional iron, and if it were risked, the next armoured ship, with its even thicker and heavier iron belt, would certainly not stand it. They bowed to necessity, took the bit between their teeth and boldly gave her a complete iron hull.
The story of "Wood to Iron" differs sensationally from that of "Sail to Steam." In the latter we needed test and calamity to convince us. Now we acted with the verdict of only a war-test albeit suspect. But, here, we had deliberately created, and in doing so avoided a calamity.
The launch in 1860, of the "Warrior" marked an even more decisive victory for Iron than the loss of the "Captain" did for Steam. And the victory was instantly complete. All of our new ships were henceforth constructed of iron-or, after 1885, of mild steel.
The best of our old ones, lest we be caught napping, we instantly cut them down almost to the waterline and rebuilt as nearly as possible on the line of the "Warrior." If Sail to Steam represented a long-term advantage to Britain, so-and for the same reason-did Wood to Iron.
Our shortage of suitable oak trees had given us problems, but there is no lack of iron ore in these islands, nor is there likely to be. Did those responsible for the brave "Warrior" decision take this factor into account? I would hardly think so? But, if they did, it can only increase our admiration in their foresight.
The continuation of this Naval History will be: "Armour"
Old For New
Armour
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