Part 20 (1/2)

The natural instincts of a maritime nation are brought out in strong relief throughout the whole of English literature, from its very birth down to the present day. The author of ”The Lay of Beowulf,” whoever he may have been, rivalled Homer in the awe-stricken epithets he applied to the ”immense stream of ocean murmuring with foam” (_Il._ xviii. 402).

”Then,” he wrote, ”most like a bird, the foamy-necked floater went wind-driven over the sea-wave; ... the sea-timber thundered; the wind over the billows did not hinder the wave-floater in her course; the sea-goer put forth; forth over the flood floated she, foamy-necked, over the sea-streams, with wreathed prow until they could make out the cliffs of the Goths.”

Although the claim of Alfred the Great to be the founder of the British navy is now generally rejected by historians, it is certain that from the very earliest times the need of dominating the sea was present in the minds of Englishmen, and that this feeling gained in strength as the centuries rolled on and the value of sea-power became more and more apparent. In a poem ent.i.tled ”The Libel of English Policy,” which is believed to have been written about the year 1436, the following lines occur:

Kepe then the see abought in specialle, Whiche of England is the rounde walle; As thoughe England were lykened to a cite.

And the walle enviroun were the see.

Kepe then the see, that is the walle of England, And then is England kepte by G.o.ddes sonde.

A long succession of poets dwelt on the same theme. Waller--presumably during a Royalist phase of his chequered career--addressed the King in lines which forestalled the very modern political idea that a powerful British navy is not only necessary for the security of England, but also affords a guarantee for the peace of all the world:

Where'er thy navy spreads her canvas wings Homage to thee, and peace to all, she brings.

Thomson's ”Rule, Britannia,” was not composed till 1740, but before that time the heroism displayed both by the navy collectively and by individual sailors was frequently celebrated in popular verse. The death of Admiral Benbow, who continued to give orders after his leg had been carried off by a chain-shot at the battle of Carthagena in 1702, is recorded in the lines:

While the surgeon dressed his wounds Thus he said, thus he said, While the surgeon dressed his wounds thus he said: ”Let my cradle now in haste On the quarter-deck be placed, That my enemies I may face Till I'm dead, till I'm dead.”

But it was more especially the long struggle with Napoleon that led to an outburst of naval poetry. It is to the national feelings current during this period that we owe such songs as ”The Bay of Biscay, O,” by Andrew Cherry; ”Hearts of Oak,” by David Garrick[110]; ”The Saucy Arethusa,” by Prince h.o.a.re; ”A Wet Sheet and a Flowing Sea,” by Allan Cunningham; ”Ye Mariners of England,” by Thomas Campbell, and a host of others. Amongst this nautical choir, Charles Dibdin, who was born in 1745, stands pre-eminent. Sir Cyprian Bridge, in his introduction to Mr.

Stone's collection of _Sea Songs_, tells us that it is doubtful whether Dibdin's songs ”were ever very popular on the forecastle.” The really popular songs, he thinks, were of a much more simple type, and were termed ”Fore-bitters,” from the fact that the man who sang them took his place on the fore-bitts, ”a stout construction of timber near the foremast, through which many of the princ.i.p.al ropes were led.” However this may be, there cannot be the smallest doubt that Dibdin's songs exercised a very powerful effect on landsmen, and contributed greatly to foster national pride in the navy and popular sympathy with sailors. It was presumably a cordial recognition of this fact that led Pitt to grant him a pension. It would, indeed, be difficult to conceive poetry more calculated to make the chord of national sentiment vibrate responsively than ”Tom Bowling” or that well-known song in which Dibdin depicted at once the high sense of duty and the rough, albeit affectionate, love-making of ”Poor Jack”:

I said to our Poll, for, d'ye see, she would cry, When last we made anchor for sea, What argufies sniv'ling and piping your eye?

Why, what a d.a.m.n'd fool you must be!

As for me in all weathers, all times, tides and ends, Nought's a trouble from duty that springs, For my heart is my Poll's, and my rhino my friend's, And as for my life it's the King's; Even when my time comes, ne'er believe me so soft As for grief to be taken aback, For the same little cherub that sits up aloft Will look out a good berth for poor Jack!

Pride in the navy and its commanders is breathed forth in the following eulogy of Admiral Jervis (Lord St. Vincent):

You've heard, I s'pose, the people talk Of Benbow and Boscawen, Of Anson, Poc.o.c.k, Vernon, Hawke, And many more then going; All pretty lads, and brave, and rum, That seed much n.o.ble service; But, Lord, their merit's all a hum, Compared to Admiral Jervis!

”Tom Tough” is an example of the same spirit:

I've sailed with gallant Howe, I've sailed with n.o.ble Jervis, And in valiant Duncan's fleet I've sung yo, heave ho!

Yet more ye shall be knowing, I was c.o.x'n to Boscawen, And even with brave Hawke have I n.o.bly faced the foe.

Perfervid patriotism and ardent loyalty find expression in the following swinging lines: