Maritime history

What is the Merchant Navy?

Elizabeth Oliver — Wed, 02 Sep 2026 13:55:10 +0000

What is the Merchant Navy? Elizabeth Oliver Wed, 09/02/2026 - 13:55

Merchant Navy Day is celebrated annually in the UK on 3 September, to raise awareness and mark the contributions of merchant seafarers, particularly during the First and Second World Wars.

Here we will look at what the Merchant Navy does, its history and the stories of merchant seafarers and vessels which can be found in the collections of Royal Museums Greenwich.

Introducing the Merchant Navy

The Merchant Navy, sometimes called the Mercantile Marine or Merchant Service in the UK, usually refers to the vessels and people working in commercial shipping of all kinds, from cruise ships to cargo, research vessels to ferries.

Rather than a single organisation, it is a collective name for civilian, UK-registered vessels and the crews who work on them.

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Crew of 'Cawdor' (1884), taken at San Francisco in April 1893

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Ordinary Seaman on board MV Nova, chartered by Ellerman City Liners, one of the last British shipping companies © Zoe Childerley

Read about life on board

The Red Ensign

Red Ensign from the Q-ship 'Mavis', circa 1914

English and later British merchant ships have flown versions of the Red Ensign (or Red Duster) since the 1600s. In 1864 the Red Ensign was officially allocated to British commercial shipping and is still used by Merchant Navy vessels today.

History of the Merchant Navy

Merchant shipping was central to national survival and prosperity for centuries. By the twentieth century, Britain had amongst the largest merchant fleet in the world, but its importance was little acknowledged, with issues of low pay and dangerous working conditions for crew.

First World War attacks on merchant vessels brought the danger and necessity of this work to the nation’s attention. Between 1914 and 1918, 17,000 seafarers from across the world died in service on British merchant ships while carrying essential food, raw materials, supplies and passengers.

Drawing ‘Middleham Castle and Bolton Castle discharging grain’ by John Everett, 1918. These merchant ships are unloading grain supplies in London, in dazzle paint, to camouflage them from U-boat attacks. PAH6904

In acknowledgement of this, the official title of Merchant Navy was granted by HRH King George V in 1928. It was supposed to bring the respect shown to the merchant fleet into line with military services.

In the Second World War, the Merchant Navy played a pivotal role, not least in the Battle of the Atlantic and the notoriously dangerous Arctic convoys. 35,000 of the 200,000 men and women employed in the Merchant Navy lost their lives, again at a higher proportion than in the armed forces.

Drawing titled ‘Three inmates and a chameleon’ by artist and Merchant Navy wireless officer John Kingsley Cook in a prisoner-of-war camp in Algeria, 1942. He was captured after his ship was sunk in 1941. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London. Presented by the artist's family, 2012.

The container ship ATLANTIC CONVEYOR is refuelled by the Royal Fleet Auxiliary TIDEPOOL during its service in the Falklands conflict (image courtesy of Imperial War Museums, © IWM FKD 161)

The Merchant Navy has continued to serve in conflicts like the Falklands since, with civilian crews suddenly finding themselves part of a military operation.

Read about some of their experiences here

Commemorating the Merchant Navy

1928 also saw the creation of the first official war memorial at Tower Hill for the merchant seafarers lost in the First World War ‘who have no grave but the sea’.

However, many felt that their sacrifice had been undervalued. The Merchant Navy had not been included in the official March Past at the Cenotaph on Remembrance Sunday, as it was not recognised as an armed service. Lost merchant ships were therefore not regarded as 'in military service', which meant that casualties were not designated war graves.

Cutty Sark and the Merchant Navy

When merchant vessel Cutty Sark was going to be preserved in Greenwich, it was decided that the ship should be designated a Merchant Navy memorial.

In 1954 sculptor Maurice Lambert designed a memorial for the Dry Dock based on Cutty Sark’s stern decoration. Inscriptions honoured the contribution of merchant crews both in war and the age of sail, ending with a couplet from seafarer and then-Poet Laureate John Masefield:

‘they mark our passage as a race of men

Earth will not see such ships as these again’.

A copy of this memorial can still be seen in the floor of the Dry Dock (pictured).

Merchant Navy Day

Merchant Navy Day was first marked on 3 September 2000. The date was chosen to mark the sinking of the SS Athenia, a passenger ship and the first British vessel to be sunk by Germany in the Second World War, just hours after the declaration of war.

Merchant Navy Day is an opportunity to mark the sacrifices and contributions of merchant seafarers past, present and future.

Merchant shipping and seafarers today

The shipping industry and seafarers are still a vital part of our everyday life in the UK. 95% of all goods entering and leaving the country are carried by sea. Tens of millions of people travel by ferries or holiday on cruises every year. They have made great sacrifices to keep vital supply chains open through international crises like the COVID-19 pandemic. Yet this work still often goes unrecognised.

View from the bridge during a voyage on the container ship MV Nova (© Zoe Childerley)

Life on board a container ship

Zoe Childerley is a REACH Collaborative Doctoral Partnership PhD, supported by the National Maritime Museum and the University of Brighton. She is embarking on a project to bring experiences of modern seafarers to light through photography, film and first-hand testimony.

Here, she reveals how she found her first voyage on board a container ship.

Discover more

Merchant Navy oral histories

The National Maritime Museum is also collecting oral histories and objects, which share the experiences of modern-day seafarers in a variety of ways.

Dr Nina Baker is just one of the seafarers who has shared her story. The first female deck cadet in the British Merchant Navy, she was a pioneer in opening up access to seafaring careers for women.

Seafarer Dr Nina Baker

These collections highlight some of the essential work done by merchant seafarers and its impact on their lives.

A passion for airships

Shane McMurray — Mon, 29 Jun 2026 13:40:37 +0000

A passion for airships Shane McMurray Mon, 06/29/2026 - 13:40

In this blog we take a look at the archive collection of Squadron Leader Thomas Philip York-Moore (1895-1985), whose personal papers illustrate his lifelong interest in airships (RMG ID: YKM).

York-Moore piloted airships during the First World War. By 1929 he had achieved the rank of Squadron Leader. However, York-Moore retired from military service for medical reasons in 1931.

Nonetheless, he continued to be actively involved in airship production and piloting and was a passionate advocate for their continued use.

Portrait of a young York-Moore in his Flight Lieutenant uniform, a rank he achieved in 1917 (RMG ID: YKM/2/16/14)

York-Moore was interested in all types of aerostat (a vessel that uses lighter-than-air gases to take to the skies), including air balloons and dirigibles, or steerable airships.

Included in his archive collection are mementoes of key moments in the history of lighter-than-air flight.

One such keepsake is a small medal commemorating Frenchman Henri Giffard's tethered hot air balloon which gave passengers a panoramic view of Paris during the 1878 World Fair.

Giffard also invented and flew the first powered aircraft, a steam-powered airship, in 1852.

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Obverse

Obverse of the commemorative medal for the ascent of Mr Henri Giffard's tethered hot air balloon in Paris in 1878.

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Reverse

Reverse of the commemorative medal for the ascent of Mr Henri Giffard's tethered hot air balloon in Paris in 1878.

Airship development...

York-Moore's papers reveal a dedication to airships from the start of his career. In 1916 he received a letter from the Royal Navy Air Department confirming his selection to the Airship Expeditionary Force in the Eastern Mediterranean (RMG ID: YKM/2/7).

York-Moore was then promoted to Flight Lieutenant in 1917 and received several more letters from the Air Department during 1918, congratulating him for the number of hours he had flown.

Airships were ideal for escorting naval convoys for two reasons: they can cruise slowly to patrol the ocean below, and can stay airborne for long periods of time without needing to refuel.

Airship flying over Cornwall, 1918. York-Moore is one of the men on the ground (RMG ID: YKM/2/16/1)

It was the rigid airship design of Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin (1838-1917), with its metal framework, that provided the template for future airships of this type. The terms 'zeppelin' and 'airship' are often used interchangeably, but 'zeppelin' originally referred to an airship built by the company founded by Count Zeppelin, Luftschiffbau Zeppelin (Zeppelin Airship Construction Company).

The British endeavoured to develop an airship programme to rival that of the Germans, but this was not plain sailing.

British airship development was mainly based at an airfield in Cardington, Bedfordshire, which was nationalised in 1919 and renamed the Royal Airship Works.

... and disaster

York-Moore's papers include a programme for a memorial service held at Westminster Abbey for the men lost in Airship R38, although it is not clear if he attended.

The R38 was constructed for the Royal Navy, and the US Navy also expressed interest in acquiring the airship. However, it tore apart and exploded on 24 August 1921, due to flawed design and inadequate testing. Most of the crew died, including several American airshipmen and the superintendent of the Royal Airship Works.

Programme for memorial service held at Westminster Abbey for those lost in Airship R38 (RMG ID: YKM/2/12)

In addition to military use, airships also had potential as commercial passenger liners. Possibly the most well-known British airships are the R100 and R101, built in an attempt to develop a commercial transport service between the countries of the British Empire.

The R101 was the world's largest flying craft at its launch in 1929. The R100 flew to Canada successfully in 1930, but later that year the R101 crashed in France during its maiden voyage to India, killing most of the 54 people on board, including VIPs and many of the designers from the Royal Airship Works.

Following this disaster, the British airship programme was discontinued.

The first commercial transatlantic flight

The LZ-127 Graf Zeppelin was the first airship, and in fact the first aircraft of any type, to make a commercial transatlantic flight, completing a journey from Germany to New Jersey on the east coast of the USA in 1928 .

In 1931, it began a regularly scheduled passenger service between Germany and South America and made hundreds of flights with a perfect safety record. Its operations came to a halt however when the Hindenburg, probably the most famous zeppelin, crashed in 1937.

1935 brochure for the Graf Zeppelin’s transatlantic passenger service (RMG ID: YKM/3/6)

What happened to the Hindenburg?

At its launch the Hindenburg overtook the R101 as the world's largest ever airship, similar in length to the Titanic, and a real luxury liner of the skies.

It exploded on 6 May 1937, at the end of a journey from Germany to New Jersey, killing about a third of the people on board.

The Hindenburg was mired in controversy, as it was used by the German regime for Nazi propaganda (against the wishes of Hugo Eckener, the Zeppelin Company chairman). Although it was fuelled by hydrogen, it had in fact been designed for the slightly heavier but inert helium.

There were rumours of sabotage, but the hydrogen undoubtedly contributed to the explosion. The loss of the renowned airship marked the beginning of the end of lighter-than-air commercial passenger travel.

Decline of the airship

In the early 1950s York-Moore himself was involved in the construction and design of an airship, the Bournemouth.

He collaborated with Lord Ventry, a fellow airship pilot and enthusiast, along with a few others. This was the first airship built in Britain since the ill-fated R101.

The Bournemouth made several short flights in 1951 and 1952, but the project had to be abandoned due to lack of funding.

When York-Moore started his airship career in the early years of the 20th century, aviation was in its infancy.

It is difficult to imagine now as aeroplanes have achieved clear dominance in commercial air travel, but at the time it was far from certain which aircraft would prove to be more successful.

However, York-Moore continued to go into battle for airships long after aeroplanes had won the aviation war.

In his essay Up the Battle Bags, included in Lord Ventry’s 1982 book Airship Saga, York-Moore detailed his war service as an airship pilot and argued airships had been unfairly cast aside following the Hindenburg disaster.

He believed that while much slower, airships were more comfortable and safer than aeroplanes. He wrote:

Neither in peace or war has the airship failed. They have never been given the same chances as the more favoured aeroplanes.

Are airships making a comeback?

Were he alive today York-Moore would be encouraged by the renewed interest in airships. For example, tech billionaire and Google co-founder, Sergey Brin's company LTA Research recently launched its Pathfinder-1 airship, the first giant rigid airship built since the 1930s.

York-Moore died in 1985 and his papers were donated to the Museum in 1995.

For a much deeper dive into this topic, the Caird Library has several books detailing the history and development of airships, including:

Ventry, Arthur, Baron & Koleśnik, Eugene. Airship Saga: the history of airships seen through the eyes of the men who designed, built and flew them. RMG ID: PBN8739
Swinfield, John. Airship design, development and disaster. RMG ID: PBH7170

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Learn more about one of the world's leading airship pilots, Squadron Leader Thomas Philip York-Moore.

250 years of the Declaration of Independence

Freya Richards — Thu, 25 Jun 2026 10:33:52 +0000

250 years of the Declaration of Independence Freya Richards Thu, 06/25/2026 - 10:33

250 years ago, in early July 1776, monumental news was dispatched from New York to British shores. Great Britain’s 13 American colonies had severed political ties and declared themselves an independent nation, publishing a ‘Declaration of Independence’ outlining their many reasons for doing so.

To mark the 250th anniversary of the Declaration on 4 July 2026, the National Maritime Museum is showcasing an early report of the Declaration of Independence that exists among papers of the Montagu family held in the archive of the Caird Library.

This includes a handwritten copy of the Declaration and an accompanying letter dated 10 July 1776, sent to Britain by Vice‑Admiral Molyneux Shuldham, who was commanding the British naval forces blockading New York at the time. The news was dispatched mere days after the Declaration was published in Philadelphia.

The letter penned by Molyneux Shuldham provides a rare British perspective on the revolutionary developments unfolding in America, which would have large and far-reaching repercussions for Britain.

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Handwritten Declaration of Independence

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Letter written by Molyneux Shuldham accompanying the handwritten Declaration

What was the Declaration of Independence?

The American War of Independence began in 1775 when Britain's 13 American colonies rebelled against British rule, following a series of political and economic disagreements about control of the colonies.

In June 1776, the Declaration of Independence was drafted by Thomas Jefferson, drawing on ideas developed by European philosophers about individual liberty.

The declaration states that ‘all men are created equal’, before listing the complaints against the British Crown that justified the breaking of the ties between the American colonies and Great Britain.

The Declaration was first printed on the night of 4 July 1776 in Philadelphia.

Molyneux Shuldham © National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London

The handwritten copy

On display at the National Maritime Museum is a handwritten copy of the Declaration and an accompanying letter written by Vice‑Admiral Molyneux Shuldham.

The letter is dated 10 July 1776, and was sent from on board HMS Chatham off Staten Island to John Montagu, the 4th Earl of Sandwich, first lord of the Admiralty.

Martin Salmon, Curator of Manuscripts at the National Maritime Museum, said: "...it is just possible this was the very first text of the Declaration of American Independence to reach British shores... yet it’s the accompanying letter that’s in some ways even more interesting, because it gives insight into the timing and circumstances in which the document was created."

The letter reveals that Shuldham had transcribed a printed copy of the Declaration shortly after it reached him while commanding the British naval forces blockading New York.

Shuldham highlights the significance of the Declaration in his letter:

“My Lord / Herewith I send your Lordship a Copy of the late Declaration of the Continental Congress, one printed copy of which arriv'd here last night, & is perhaps the first authentick confirmation of what has been so long suspected, the establishment of Independence in America.”

This means that within five days of it being published, a copy of the Declaration had been obtained, brought 90 miles to New York, made its way out to the blockading squadron, and was transcribed on the way to Britain.

It is likely that several copies of the Declaration were made and sent to Britain. During wartime it was safest to send several separate copies of any correspondence, so that it had the best chance of reaching its target.

However, thanks to travelling through naval networks, these documents on display are believed to be among the first written accounts to reach Britain.

Martin Salmon says, "Molyneux Shuldham was relieved of command, but his replacement did not arrive until 12 July 1776. It is likely that among the very last acts of his command was to ensure that the intelligence of American independence was communicated home."

See the display

The documents are currently on display outside the Caird Library and Archive at the National Maritime Museum and are free to visit – come and see this fascinating piece of history.

These historical artefacts have survived 250 years in remarkably good condition, thanks to their preservation among the papers of the Montagu family and more recent professional care they have received at the Caird Library. The important work they do preserving documents like these means we can still enjoy them today. If you would like to support this work, please donate to Royal Museums Greenwich.

Header image: Declaration of Independence, July 4 1776, wood engraving (PAJ0182) © National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London

In pictures: a new spar for Cutty Sark

Elizabeth Oliver — Wed, 10 Jun 2026 13:15:46 +0000

In pictures: a new spar for Cutty Sark Elizabeth Oliver Wed, 06/10/2026 - 13:15

Cutty Sark’s three masts are a beloved part of the south London skyline. The vertical structures carry a series of wooden horizontal poles, which once would have supported the ship’s sails when at sea.

In 2025, one of these horizontal spars – or yards – had rotted and needed replacing. This spar is known as the mizzen royal yard and is situated at the top of the mizzen mast, located at the stern (or rear) of the ship.

Spar making is a specialist skill, with just a handful of makers in the country. Shipwright Kevin Finch was enlisted to make the new mizzen royal yard. Here, we show the work involved in creating the 32-foot wooden spar – and the process of hoisting it up Cutty Sark’s 106-foot mizzen mast.

Creating the mizzen royal yard

The spar began as a bulk of timber at Kevin Finch’s workshop in Maldon, Essex. Kevin has long been involved with Cutty Sark, having worked on the rigging and the making of a spar for the ship’s reopening in April 2012.

The new mizzen royal yard is made from Douglas fir, a softwood that has been used for spars on Cutty Sark since the ship’s sailing days. “It’s a wood that’s strong, springy and light,” Kevin says.

Over the course of a few weeks, Kevin transformed the timber into the 32-foot spar, a process that involved skills such as hand planing and laminating. This also required detailed knowledge of the characteristics and tensions of the wood. The craft of oar, mast, spar and flagpole making is classified as ‘Endangered’ by Heritage Crafts, an advocacy body that assesses the viability of specialist skills across the UK.

For Cutty Sark’s shipkeeping and conservation team, supporting these traditional skills is crucial. “We want to keep these skills alive, and to ensure the work is done in the traditional way,” explains Claire Denham, Cutty Sark’s Conservation Research Advisor.

Image courtesy of Glyn Jones

Getting the spar to Greenwich

Once completed, the mizzen royal yard was transported from Maldon to Greenwich Pier by Blue Mermaid, an engineless Thames sailing barge run by Sea-Change Sailing Trust. The charity aims to develop life skills through seafaring experiences.

While championing traditional crafts was central to the spar-making process, the project had another aim: to raise awareness of traditional seafaring techniques, such as sailing using wind and waves.

A large crew worked to bring this ambitious venture to life. Alongside the team from Blue Mermaid, other members on board included Cutty Sark volunteers Graeme Tipp, Glyn Jones and John Wheeler, young people from local schools and sea cadet units.

The two-day voyage saw them pass locations and landmarks from the Blackwater Estuary and Canvey Island to the Dartford Crossing and the Thames Barrier.

Delivering the mizzen royal yard to Cutty Sark

With the mizzen royal yard safely arrived in Greenwich, members of Cutty Sark's shipkeeping team and traditional rigging company TS Rigging – Tall Ships Ltd set to work bringing it ashore.

The team unloaded the spar, carried it from Greenwich Pier and set it down beside Cutty Sark – all in the space of a few minutes. A series of ropes were attached to the mizzen royal yard, which was then winched onto the main deck of the tea clipper.

Painting the spar

Before installing the mizzen royal yard on the mast, the spar required several coats of paint, to protect it from sunlight and UV rays.

This is because Cutty Sark is situated in a dry dock, which means some areas of the spar will be more susceptible to sun damage.

Grey undercoats were first applied, followed by black top coats.

Hoisting the spar up the mizzen mast

Installing the spar at the top of the mizzen mast was a challenging operation.

Supervised by Cutty Sark’s shipkeepers, the team at TS Rigging – Tall Ships Ltd secured and carefully hoisted the mizzen royal yard up the 106-foot mizzen mast.

This complex process took around an hour to complete.

The new spar on display

The next time you visit Cutty Sark, don’t forget to look up and spot the new spar. As well as large-scale conservation projects, our shipkeeping team carry out daily maintenance works, preserving the ship for future generations.

You can meet some of the team connected to this project – and find out more about how we care for the ship – at our regular shipkeeping demonstrations and volunteer talks.

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Remembering Jutland

Zoe Craig — Tue, 19 May 2026 15:00:52 +0000

Remembering Jutland Zoe Craig Tue, 05/19/2026 - 15:00

Involving a total of 250 ships, the Battle of Jutland was a major clash between the British Grand Fleet and the German High Seas Fleet.

Both sides suffered heavy losses, but the result was one of the most keenly felt disappointments of the war.

Background to the Battle of Jutland

As an early war aim, the outnumbered Germans sought action with a small part of the Grand Fleet, which they planned to ambush and defeat with their full strength. From November 1914 German battlecruisers occasionally raided the English coastline. If challenged, their task was to draw pursuing British ships within range of the High Seas Fleet’s powerful dreadnought battleships.

The British responded by creating two rapid-reaction forces.

The first comprised Admiral David Beatty's fast battlecruisers at Rosyth, and the second a squadron of dreadnoughts at Cromarty. The British plan called for these forces to be supported by the rest of the Grand Fleet from Scapa Flow whenever they intercepted a German raid. These arrangements resulted in only one clash between the rival battlecruisers in January 1915, but they nonetheless made a major fleet action in the North Sea more likely.

The four phases of the Battle of Jutland

This long-awaited fight took place on 31 May 1916. The Battle of Jutland was a complicated affair that, for ease of understanding, is usually narrated in four phases:

‘Run to the south’ (roughly 3.30 to 4.40pm)
‘Run to the north’ (roughly 4.40 to 6pm)
The main fleet action (roughly 6 to 8pm)
The night action (about 8pm to 3am on 1 June)

Run to the south

An encounter between both sides' scouting vessels brought the British and German battlecruisers into contact and initiated the run to the south. The German Admiral Franz Hipper steered his squadron southwards towards his fleet's distant dreadnoughts.

Admiral Hipper's battlecruisers: Battle of Jutland, 31 May 1916 by Claus Bergen. (BHC0661)

Admiral Beatty gave chase but within half an hour had lost two of his battlecruisers to catastrophic explosions. Worse for Beatty and his surviving battlecruisers, by 4.40pm the leading German dreadnoughts were in sight and rapidly bearing down on him.

Thus far the German plan was succeeding brilliantly; not only had Beatty’s battlecruisers been lured into the trap but so had four dreadnoughts temporarily attached to his force. These ships, the Queen Elizabeth class, were the most powerful warships in the world and the Germans now had a perfect opportunity to isolate and destroy them.

Despite his losses and serious tactical predicament, however, Beatty saw his chance to reverse the situation by luring the Germans towards the Grand Fleet. The run to the north had begun.

Run to the north

Over the next hour and a half, the initial German success began to unravel. As Beatty’s ships headed northwards, they were hotly pursued by the High Seas Fleet, but despite intense German fire none of his remaining ships were sunk or crippled, and some managed to score damaging hits on the Germans.

Most significantly, at this stage of the battle the Germans still had no inkling of the threat that lay ahead of them. Shortly after 6pm, Beatty beheld the welcome sight of the leading British dreadnoughts.

The main fleet action

The main fleet action that followed represented the critical point in the battle. Despite very limited incoming information and poor visibility, Admiral John Jellicoe positioned his ships superbly.

When the Germans appeared at 6.17pm they were subjected to very heavy fire from a Grand Fleet formed up across their line of approach. Despite some successes against individual British cruisers, the Germans were unable to retaliate effectively and turned away.

Windy Corner, Jutland 2. Trial proof by William Lionel Wyllie. (PAF2238)

Believing he had shaken off the British, the German commander-in-chief, Admiral Reinhard Scheer, tried to re-engage on more favourable terms at about 7pm, only to discover the British dreadnoughts again arrayed across his path. Facing the massed guns of the Grand Fleet a second time proved too much, and Scheer again withdrew, this time for good. Wary of exposing his ships to mine and torpedo attacks, Jellicoe declined to pursue. His ships were now between the Germans and their base and by 8.45pm he had grouped his fleet into night cruising formation, hoping to resume the battle in the morning.

Night action

Despite Jellicoe's precautions, brushes continued to occur in the darkness between both sides' smaller warships.

Scheer meanwhile decided to risk a full nocturnal encounter to get his dreadnoughts home to Wilhelmshaven, precipitating the night action phase. His route took the German fleet through the British destroyer flotillas guarding the rear of the Grand Fleet, from whom they met determined but largely ineffective resistance.

Night action between cruisers, probably at the Battle of Jutland, 31 May-1 June 1916 by William Lionel Wyllie (PAE3124)

The Germans lost an old battleship, but by 3am had made good their escape.

The Battle of Jutland was over, with the loss of 14 British and 11 German ships, and 6,094 British dead against 2,551 Germans.

John Travers Cornwell, aged 16, the youngest British casualty of Jutland. He was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross. Portrait by Ambrose McEvoy (BHC2635)

The post-battle 'war of words'

Barely had the fleets returned to port when the propaganda ‘war of words’ began. Both sides claimed victory, and both faced accusations of having been defeated. The balance of losses favoured the Germans, but they had failed in their primary strategic aim of decisively defeating the Grand Fleet. Worse, the larger Royal Navy was better able to absorb such losses.

Shell damage suffered to the battleship HMS Warspite (1913) at the battle of Jutland. (N16494)

In a confidential report to the Kaiser, Admiral Scheer admitted that there was no possibility of knocking Britain out of the war through a decisive fleet battle. Instead, he added his voice to those advocating unrestricted submarine warfare against the British Empire. Germany took this path, to her ultimate detriment as the submarine campaign – while coming close to defeating Britain – failed to weaken the British blockade of Germany and was a major factor in the USA entering the war.

Jutland failed to live up to public expectations of a 'second Trafalgar', but it was a very important battle for both sides and had a profound impact on the course of the First World War.

The Frozen Deep: the Dickens-Franklin connection

Shane McMurray — Thu, 19 Mar 2026 11:01:00 +0000

The Frozen Deep: the Dickens-Franklin connection Shane McMurray Thu, 03/19/2026 - 11:01

Dickens's play The Frozen Deep (1856) was inspired by the Franklin tragedy. The play was hugely popular, riding on interest in polar exploration and a desire to find out what happened to Sir John Franklin and his crews. Today I plan to explore the background to the play's creation, and some of the related items we have at Royal Museums Greenwich.

The Franklin Expedition

Following the end of the Napoleonic Wars, in 1815, the Royal Navy needed a new challenge and employment for its vast workforce. The search for the North-West Passage was pitched as a national adventure, with the creation of a £20,000 reward. The public's imagination was captured by the supposed 'civilising of untamed and alien wildernesses by gallant and noble Englishmen'. The nation became obsessed by all things polar – there were paintings, lectures and merchandise.

Some of the polar explorers became the swashbuckling pin-ups of the era. A romanticised portrait (BHC2981) of Commander James Clark Ross was commissioned to mark his return from an expedition in 1833.

John Robert Wildman. Commander James Clark Ross, 1800-62. 1834. RMG ID: BHC2981.

Just over a decade later, in May 1845, the Franklin Expedition left England, aboard HMS Terror and HMS Erebus. The expedition party was last sighted in the July of that year. Concerns grew for their welfare and, in 1848, a series of highly publicised searches for Franklin and his crews commenced, largely instigated and partially funded by Franklin’s wife, Jane. A total of 39 missions set out, between 1847 and 1880, in an attempt to determine what happened.

Selected letters of Lady Franklin from this period were published in 2009, a copy of which is available in the Caird Library on our open access shelves (PBH2103).

A flurry of Franklin-related articles and merchandise were written and produced; there are some Staffordshire earthenware figures of Sir John and Lady Franklin in the Museum's decorative arts collection which are believed to date from this period (AAA5957).

'Sir John Franklin' and 'Lady Franklin', 1855. RMG ID: AAA5957.

In 1854, John Rae, a Scottish surgeon and explorer employed by the Hudson’s Bay Company, made the first European discovery of evidence of the crews' demise. On his return to London, he submitted a confidential report to the Admiralty, suggesting that cannibalism had taken place among the last survivors, based on Inuit eyewitness reports (a theory supported by more modern evidence). An important book, held on open access in the Caird Library, documents the significance of these oral testimonies (PBH8200).

From the mutilated state of many of the corpses and the contents of the kettles, it is evident that our wretched countrymen had been driven to the last resource - cannibalism - as a means of prolonging existence.
Rae, taken from the 1854 Admiralty Report

Rae also wrote a second sanitised report, intended for the public, which omitted the charges of cannibalism. The Admiralty released the wrong report to the press, causing a nationwide outcry, with the public believing, along with Lady Franklin, that such action was incompatible with the behaviour of Royal Navy sailors.

Dickens, who had already published several articles, poems, and short stories regarding the fated expedition, was strongly of the same opinion as Lady Franklin. With her support, he publicly discredited Rae's evidence in articles published in the journal Household Words.

But Dickens went further in correspondence accusing the Inuit peoples of being 'a gross handful of uncivilised people, with a domesticity of blood and blubber', and of attacking and killing Franklin and his men (Dickens to Mrs Watson, 1 Nov 1854, The Letters of Charles Dickens, Vol VII, 1853-1855, Oxford 1993).

The play: The Frozen Deep

Dickens co-wrote The Frozen Deep in 1856 with fellow writer Wilkie Collins. He was arguably at the height of his career and influence, both as a novelist and as a journalist; he was writing the novel Little Dorrit alongside publishing, editing, and contributing not only to the journal All the Year Round but also to Household Words.

The play tells the action-packed story of two rival suitors, Richard Wardour and Frank Aldersely, vying for the love of Clara Burnham. The men unwittingly join two different ships as part of the same expedition to discover the North-West Passage. When the ships get stuck in the ice, and both men are randomly drawn into the same search party, Wardour, the rejected lover, finds himself torn between a desire for revenge on his successful rival and the need for solidarity in such adverse conditions. Gentlemanly sacrifice prevails. Dickens later based the self-sacrificing hero of Sydney Carton in A Tale of Two Cities on Richard Wardour.

The play was first performed in private, in Dickens's home, Tavistock House, in January 1857. Dickens typically took not only the lead role of Wardour but also acted as stage manager. Other members of the cast were family and close friends. An account of the performance in the 17th January edition of The Illustrated London News says of Dickens 'too much praise cannot be bestowed on this artistic interpretation.'

Private theatricals at Tavistock House - scene from The Frozen Deep. Illustrated London News, 17 January 1857. RMG ID: ILN.

The Caird Library and Archive hold an entire run of The Illustrated London News in its periodical collection, and is available to view on request in the Reading Room.

The popularity of the play grew rapidly. Even Queen Victoria attended a Royal Command Performance in July of that year, praising both the writing and Dickens's acting, in her diary.

The Frozen Deep also had dramatic personal consequences for Dickens. It was through casting professional actors for the public runs that he first met 18-year-old Ellen Ternan, for whom he would later leave his wife Catherine. These larger performances, in the late summer of 1857, were seen by thousands.

Dickens also spoke at the Royal Geographical Society, in 1857, in support of the pending Fox voyage led by Captain McClintock. The Fox voyage was funded by public subscription, including a large sum from Lady Franklin. Here at the Caird Library and Archive we have on loan the papers of Captain McClintock, which are available on request for viewing in the Reading Room.

The McClintock expedition did discover the fate of Franklin and his crews – that the ships had become trapped in the ice, where many had died, including Franklin, and that the remaining men attempted to reach safety but died upon 'an island'.

On his return, McClintock was knighted and wrote an account of his trip. We hold several copies of the title, the voyage of the Fox in the Arctic Seas.

The aftermath of the Franklin Expedition

The Rae report and the subsequent furore marked a change in both attitudes towards, and methods employed, in polar exploration. The hysteria died down, and a more scientific, controlled, and rational approach was taken. The Frozen Deep was never successfully revived.

Franklin remained in the public imagination, largely due to Lady Jane Franklin's perseverance and aided by Dickens's key role in a high-profile public relations campaign. The search for the vessels and crew continued. It remains the worst disaster in the history of British polar exploration, with the loss of 129 men.

Prompted by the 50th anniversary of the fated expedition, artist William Thomas Smith imagined a scene of its final moments. The painting was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1895 (BHC1273).

'They forged the last links with their lives': Sir John Franklin's men dying by their boat during the North-West Passage expedition. William Thomas Smith, 1895. RMG ID: BHC1273.

Despite the contemporary nationwide refusal to accept that cannibalism could possibly have occurred, in the 1980s researchers recovered remains of the expedition crew on King William Island. Both academic and public interest in the fate of the men was reawakened.

This was heightened in 2014 and 2016, with the discovery of the wrecks of HMS Erebus and Terror. The expedition continues to fascinate, and recent television dramas have whet the appetite of the public, providing the kind of entertainment that Dickens also sought to produce with The Frozen Deep more than 170 years ago.

Will we ever know the full story of what happened?

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Most of us are familiar with the doomed 1845 Arctic Expedition led by Sir John Franklin and with his contemporary, the novelist Charles Dickens. But largely forgotten is a connection between the two.

Safeguarding Tresco's guardians: the Valhalla Collection

Zoe Craig — Tue, 17 Mar 2026 12:38:54 +0000

Safeguarding Tresco's guardians: the Valhalla Collection Zoe Craig Tue, 03/17/2026 - 12:38

On the tiny island of Tresco in Scilly, Atlantic winds sweep over white sands and rocky coves. Here stands a remarkable fleet – the figureheads of ships lost long ago to the reefs surrounding the islands.

These carved guardians, known as the Valhalla Collection, have watched over Tresco Abbey Gardens for generations, sharing stories of trade and bravery that shaped life along the island's shores.

Since 1840, these 30 figureheads have lived among the islanders as neighbours, landmarks, and reminders of a long and sometimes tragic maritime history. Each comes from a shipwreck on Scilly's treacherous coasts, where over a thousand vessels met their fate. Plucked from the surf and carried to safety, they found new life in Tresco Abbey Gardens – standing proud among the subtropical flora in one of Britain's most extraordinary landscapes.

Over time, the Valhalla Collection has become part of the island's fabric. Tresco families grew up with them; they are symbols of home, loss, resilience and connection to the wider world. These carvings remain a visible trace of an endangered traditional skill and the heart of a community shaped by the sea.

In the 1970s, the Valhalla Collection was bequeathed to the National Maritime Museum on the condition the figureheads remain on Tresco, their ancestral home.

Today, they are among Royal Museums Greenwich’s most treasured and remote holdings and its expert conservators’ regularly journey from the mainland to safeguard their survival.

But time and weather press harder each year, putting the Collection's survival at risk. You can support this important work by donating today.

Donate now

Guardians under threat

For almost two centuries, the figureheads have endured the very elements that once battered their ships. Their wooden forms, once brightly painted and built to withstand roaring seas, were made from a number of component parts and as such now face cracking, fading and decay. Every winter storm, every dry summer, every shift in temperature leaves its mark.

Unlike museum objects protected in climate-controlled galleries, the Valhalla figureheads continue to live outdoors, exposed to the elements while watching over Tresco as they have for generations. This is part of what makes the collection unique yet leaves them vulnerable.

Royal Museums Greenwich conservators face one of their toughest challenges on Tresco, a remote site demanding specialist skills, extensive travel, and careful preservation in harsh weather. Each visit, they are welcomed like old friends, because their work protects not only a national treasure but the island's heritage.

This effort grows more urgent each year, and it cannot continue without your help. You can help safeguard the Valhalla Collection for generations to come.

A collection at the heart of a community

To walk among the Valhalla Collection is to step into a shared history.

Each carving embodies lives lived at sea from South America to Norway: the figureheads are a reminder of the human stories woven into Britain's maritime past, which Royal Museums Greenwich exists to protect.

But on Tresco, their meaning is even more intimate. For Scillonians, the sea is both livelihood and legacy. The figureheads represent a connection to ancestors who lived with the constant reality of shipwreck.

They also serve as symbols of the island's identity, drawing visitors from around the world to one of the most unique maritime collections in the country.

Losing even one of these figureheads would mean losing an irreplaceable part of local and national heritage. You can help safeguard the Valhalla Collection for generations to come by donating today.

Donate now

Preserving Valhalla's future

Expert conservation is the only way to secure the Valhalla Collection for future generations. These essential repairs include:

stabilising fragile timber before cracks spread
consolidating original paint layers
protecting surfaces from moisture, salt, and biological growth
undertaking sensitive repairs that preserve historic integrity
ongoing monitoring, often under challenging outdoor conditions

Because the figureheads cannot be moved from Tresco, all conservation must happen on site. This means sending a team of conservators more than 300 miles across the sea. Their dedication ensures that the figureheads continue to stand watch – just as they have done since the 19th century.

Help safeguard Valhalla

The Valhalla Collection stands as a powerful testament to courage, community and the enduring spirit of our maritime past.

With your support, it will continue to inspire all who encounter it – from islanders who have known it since childhood, to visitors discovering its significance for the first time.

Every donation, large or small, enables our conservators to journey to Tresco, undertake vital treatments and protect these extraordinary carvings from further deterioration.

Without this support, the figureheads face inevitable decline – lost to decay, and with them, the stories of ships and sailors that shaped our history.

You can ensure the figureheads remain standing for centuries to come, guarding the gardens, witnessing island life, and preserving the echoes of the past.

Donate today to protect the Valhalla Collection.

Every gift helps protect this irreplaceable piece of maritime heritage before it’s too late.

Donate now

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The mystery of the Mary Celeste

Freya Richards — Fri, 13 Mar 2026 16:43:59 +0000

The mystery of the Mary Celeste Freya Richards Fri, 03/13/2026 - 16:43

On 4 December 1872, the crew of the brigantine Dei Gratia sighted a ship adrift in the Atlantic near the Azores. The other vessel, Mary Celeste, was on an erratic course.

On receiving no answer to his hails, Captain Morehouse of the Dei Gratia sent two of his men over in a boat to investigate.

What they found on boarding the ship would give rise to one of the most intriguing and debated maritime mysteries of all time: the Mary Celeste was completely deserted.

The only clue as to the whereabouts of her crew was the missing boat which was normally stowed over the main hatch. However, nobody on board was ever seen again.

Was it foul play, an insurance scam, a mutiny, or something else that caused the crew to abandon ship? Discover more about this compelling unsolved puzzle.

The Mary Celeste

The brigantine Mary Celeste left New York on 7 November 1872, heading for Genoa, Italy.

On board was Captain Benjamin Briggs, his wife Sarah and their two-year-old daughter Sophia.

Brigg’s crew numbered seven: his first mate Albert Richardson, who was well known to him; second mate Andrew Gilling; steward William Head; and seamen Gottleib Gouldschaal, Arian Martens, and brothers Boz and Volkert Lorenzen.

The ship was carrying around 1,700 barrels of high-grade alcohol.

A log slate similar to one which might have been used on Mary Celeste

What did they find on Mary Celeste?

Stepping aboard the drifting ship about a month after it had left New York, Oliver Deveau and John Wright from Dei Gratia found a strange scene: nobody was on board Mary Celeste.

A missing boat normally stowed over the main hatch suggested the crew may have abandoned ship – but why?

The ship's sails were partially set, but they and the rigging showed signs of damage. The fore and aft cargo hatches had been lifted and were lying on the deck.

One of the ship's two pumps was partially disassembled and nearby was a sounding rod – a measuring tool used to work out the depth of liquids in a ship's hold or tanks.

Aside from some water ingress, the crew's belongings appeared to be intact, and the only items missing were the ship's papers and Briggs' navigational instruments, reinforcing the idea that the ship had been deliberately abandoned.

Strangely, the log slate had been left behind, bearing a final entry for the morning of 25 November. A sword was also found in the captain's cabin, but Deveau and Wright saw no obvious signs of violence.

Bringing Mary Celeste to port

Despite the small number of crew available to him, Morehouse was determined to bring the Mary Celeste into Gibraltar. It was a risky decision, but the potential salvage payout justified it.

Sending Deveau and just two sailors back to the Mary Celeste, he set course for Gibraltar, roughly 600 nautical miles away.

Following an epic journey, the exhausted Deveau and his men arrived at Gibraltar on 13 December, the day after Morehouse and the Dei Gratia.

Straits of Gibraltar, watercolour by William Wyllie, early 1890s. © National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London, Caird Collection

The Mary Celeste was impounded and a salvage court convened on 17 December. The proceedings continued until 25 February.

During that period, there was an intense debate as to what exactly could have caused the mysterious disappearance of Briggs, his family and his men.

Mary Celeste theories

Frederick Solly-Flood, the Attorney General for Gibraltar, remained convinced throughout that the cause of Mary Celeste's abandonment was foul play, and that Briggs and his family had been murdered by members of the crew, who then made off in the boat.

As the investigation progressed, evidence against this interpretation steadily mounted, but Solly-Flood remained convinced he was right.

The court's inability to come to a quick consensus fuelled wild speculation on both sides of the Atlantic, made worse by the press, some of whom added a steady stream of uninformed speculation.

The mystery of the Mary Celeste has never been solved, although many theories have been put forward in the decades since the investigation. These range from the fanciful (sea monsters or aliens), to violence among the crew, a possible insurance scam in which both Briggs and Morehouse were complicit, and an explosion caused by alcohol vapours in the hold panicking the crew.

The waters have been further muddied by popular culture, especially the fictitious J. Habakuk Jephson's Statement, which caused a sensation when it was published in the 1880s.

Claiming to be a true account by the only survivor of the Mary Celeste, it was written by Arthur Conan Doyle and is riddled with factual inaccuracies that are still sometimes taken as fact. One of the most persistent of these is the misspelling of the ship's name as 'Marie Celeste'.

Illustration from J.Habakuk Jephson’s Statement by Arthur Conan Doyle, published in The Cornhill Magazine, 1884

We may never know the precise details of what caused the Mary Celeste’s crew to abandon their ship, or what might have been going through Briggs' mind as he left the security of his ship to take his and his family's chances in a small boat in the middle of the Atlantic.

One thing is certain, though. For all the theories of what might have happened, the compelling mystery of the Mary Celeste and her company will continue to intrigue.

The ice trade: a cold business

Shane McMurray — Wed, 18 Feb 2026 14:32:46 +0000

The ice trade: a cold business Shane McMurray Wed, 02/18/2026 - 14:32

Nowadays we take refrigeration for granted; equally, we probably assume that our ancestors had to make do without it except in the depths of winter. If so, we would be wrong. Our ancestors had ice for their drinks and for keeping food cool, and our Victorian ancestors could even buy ice cream from sellers in the street. So how were they able to do this? Where did the ice come from and how were they able to keep it frozen?

Ice was harvested from ponds, rivers and lakes and stored in ice houses for use such as conserving food. Ice houses still survive today in various locations. They are well-insulated, predominantly subterranean structures usually located close to the source of ice. The ice could be packed inside so that its surface area was comparatively small, and it thawed slowly. A hole in the base of the structure allowed the water from thawed ice to escape, but the thawing process could take many months or even in excess of a year. King James I commissioned an ice house for Greenwich Park in around 1620.

Importing ice

Ice began to be imported into Britain in the 19th century. In the United States, Bostonian Frederick Tudor had started the ice trade at the beginning of the century and grew rich on the proceeds. Uniform blocks could be cut using ice ploughs, and the ice shipped nationally and even internationally to countries in the West Indies and the Caribbean.

A little later, businesses based in Boston exported ice to Calcutta, where it was bought by the British who were based there. The holds of the ships carrying the ice were insulated with materials such as sawdust and hay, and in this way it was possible for ice to be transported across vast distances.

The ice trade grew and other ice merchants joined in. Jacob Hittinger harvested ice from Fresh Pond in Cambridge, Massachusetts. His company Gage, Hittinger & Co. first exported Fresh Pond ice to London in 1842. Salem-based Charles B. Lander started harvesting ice from Wenham Lake, also in Massachusetts. The first English-bound shipment of ice from Wenham Lake arrived in Liverpool on the ship Ellen in 1844.

Harvesting ice from Wenham Lake as depicted in The Illustrated London News of 17 May 1845.

The Wenham Lake Ice Company had their British headquarters in the Strand in London, where they displayed a two-foot square ice block in their window during the summer months. The satirical magazine Punch, in its issue of 14 June 1845, could not resist making fun of the enterprise:

A concern has lately started in the Strand, under the title of the Wenham Lake Ice Company. The stock of the company appears to consist of large blocks of ice, so that great care must be taken not to melt the whole of the capital.

While Punch may have found the enterprise amusing, it appears the company may have had the last laugh. Deliveries left the site twice daily and a block of ice was even sent to Queen Victoria and Prince Albert at Windsor.

Wenham Lake Ice Company also offered refrigerators for sale. These were metal-lined wooden boxes for storing food. Inside, they were fitted with shelves. The refrigerators were kept cool by being replenished with regular deliveries of ice and by being well sealed. The Illustrated London News of 17 May 1845 published an image of the type of ‘Refrigerator, or portable ice house’ then in use in American homes.

A refrigerator as depicted in The Illustrated London News of 17 May 1845.

Harvesting ice

In the same article, The Illustrated London News described the set-up at Wenham Lake and went into some detail about how the ice was harvested. It noted that, in contrast to the ‘occasional and fitful’ nature of ice collection in Britain, the harvesting of ice in America could

be regularly carried on through the whole winter; while the adjuncts of machinery for cutting and storing, and of steam for transporting it, are brought extensively into action.

The ice was cut by ‘machinery […] invented for that express purpose’ and was ‘worked, by men and horses’.

The article further reported that the storehouse at Wenham Lake could accommodate ‘20,000 tons of Ice’ and that the company had its own railway which connected ‘with the great railway to Boston.’

Norwegian ice began to be shipped to Britain in the 1820s, but the trade really developed from the 1850s. Initially the ice was cut from the lakes during the spring and loaded onto ships, but storage, in the form of ice houses, was soon built so that it was possible to transport the ice during the summer and autumn months as well. Norwegian ice exported to Britain was cheaper than Wenham ice and could out-compete it. The Wenham Lake Ice Company, the pioneer of exporting ice to Britain, began to focus more on its domestic market.

Ice being taken ashore, Great Yarmouth. RMG ID: P25689.

Ice cream

Besides helping to store food, ice was also used for making ice cream. Street sellers began selling ice cream comparatively early in Queen Victoria’s reign.

A Swiss Italian named Carlo Gatti (1817-1878), who settled in Holborn, London, in 1847, was one of the earliest sellers of ice cream. He sold ices and other eatables from a stall in Hungerford Market (close to where Charing Cross railway station is today). At least some of his ice came from the Regent’s Canal.

According to the Victorian journalist Henry Mayhew (1812-1887), who was writing when the selling of ice cream in the streets was very new, the ice-cream trade was not always profitable to begin with. He mentions one man who

sometimes went himself, and sometimes sent another to sell ice-cream in Greenwich Park on fine summer days, but the sale was sometimes insufficient to pay his railway expenses. After three or four weeks’ trial, this man abandoned the trade, and soon afterwards emigrated to America.

Customers trying ice cream for the first time could be surprised by its effect. One street seller to whom Mayhew spoke told him:

Lord! how I’ve seen the people splntter [sic] when they’ve tasted them for the first time. I did as much myself. They get among the teeth and make you feel as if you tooth-ached all over.

The seller told Mayhew about two of his customers, a servant maid and her man:

I knew one smart servant maid, treated to an ice by her young man—they seemed as if they was keeping company—and he soon was stamping, with the ice among his teeth, but she knew how to take hern, put the spoon right in the middle of her mouth, and when she’d had a clean swallow she says: ‘O, Joseph, why didn’t you ask me to tell you how to eat your ice?’

From those small beginnings, a larger business grew.

Britain continued to import naturally-produced ice into the 20th century, when artificial refrigeration eventually took over.

Sources for researching the ice trade

‘Ice’, in The Illustrated London News, Vol. VI, No. 159. London, 17 May 1845, p. 315-16 (RMG ID: ILN).

Henry Mayhew, London labour and the London poor. Griffin, Bohn, and Company, London, 1861 (RMG ID: PBF5076). The ice cream sellers are described in volume 1.

D. V. Procter, Ice carrying trade at sea: the proceedings of a symposium held at the National Maritime Museum on 8 September 1979, Maritime monographs and reports no. 49. Trustees of the National Maritime Museum, London, 1981 (RMG ID: PBN4801).

Gavin Weightman, The frozen water trade: how ice from New England lakes kept the world cool. Harper Collins Publishers, London, 2003 (RMG ID: PBF3781).

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In this blog we explore how our ancestors obtained ice in an age before widespread domestic refrigeration.

Shipyard Spotlight: hiding in plain sight

Shane McMurray — Tue, 27 Jan 2026 16:09:34 +0000

Shipyard Spotlight: hiding in plain sight Shane McMurray Tue, 01/27/2026 - 16:09

Once a year, the Caird Library, like other specialist archives and libraries, close the reading rooms for a 'work week', allowing staff to take on a variety of projects. These tasks can vary: enhancing catalogue records, item maintenance such as re-housing items or physically moving collection items to re-organise their locations.

It can also be a journey of discovery.

Such was the case while I was working in the periodicals collection where I found a slim volume, hiding in plain sight, bound in the same colour as another title, the Glasgow Herald Trade Review. It must have come to our library as a part of the acquisition of the Glasgow Herald Trade Review.

First issue of Shipyard Spotlight published by the Admiralty in June, 1942.

About Shipyard Spotlight

Shipyard Spotlight, published by the Admiralty, was circulated for sale in all shipyards in the UK, during the Second World War. Around 10,000 copies were printed every month in 1942. Interestingly, in the first few issues, it took several swipes at the trade unions before suddenly halting its attacks. It also published rather unsubtle and patronising government propaganda.

A short excerpt from the First Lord of the Admiralty, A.V. Alexander, was published on the front page of the first edition:

Those who build and repair our ships are playing a very big part in our war effort. Every day saved in the construction or repair of naval and merchant ships is of immense value.

The purpose of the publication

The second page of the first edition of Shipyard Spotlight contains the heading ‘Your paper’ with an introduction to the purpose of the publication: ‘there will be nothing more important than getting new ships to sea and repairing the damaged ones … After the war we shall be told what a tremendously important role you have played’.

The early editions encourage letters to the editor: ‘All communications should be sent to…’ Interestingly, after six months of circulation the address and invitation to correspond was removed. One wonders if they were receiving inappropriate types of communication which was deemed unsuitable for the purposes of worker morale.

'In and Around the Shipyards' in Shipyard Spotlight (August, 1942).

Talk of the yards: women rising through the ranks

The ‘In and around the Yards’ (later renamed ‘Talk of the Yards’) section of the newspaper was an attempt to highlight workers from shipyards around the country. It included those who had reached a notable number of years of employment; new appointments and promotions (a small paragraph noted a woman rising to a supervisor position) and, in the August 1942 issue, this note about women entering the engineering profession:

If women like the work, they can become quite good engineers, is the opinion of Mr F.H. Reid, principal of Sunderland Technical College. Women will be able to take day engineering courses at the college next session.

A scene from one of the many shipyards involved in building coastal vessels. Shipyard Spotlight (June, 1944).

Competition Corner and a changing workforce

Competition Corner was a popular submission which was published monthly. In the April 1943 issue, one was titled ‘Ideas wanted for a competition!’ The competition ideas and the winning entries that were published are a great insight into the thinking of the working men and women of the time.

The winner announced in the May 1943 edition was Miss W. Fitzgerald, with her winning entry: ‘Write down six reasons why you welcome women in the yards.’ To the winning entry was added this response: ‘While, naturally, this is something that mainly concerns the men, there is no reason why women shipbuilders should not compete too.’

The winner’s suggestions included: ‘Women add beauty to an ugly environment’ and ‘Eve is doing a magnificent job along with Adam.’

Speaking of women working in shipbuilding, there is an article in the Australian newspaper, The Daily News, with a photograph of Miss Betty Warren, the British actress, showing her at work in her yard. Miss Warren and her partner purchased the Stebbings shipbuilding firm, and they produced 12 lifeboats, five whalers, 1500 rafts and 2000 masts. After the war, Miss Warren was keen to build her own yacht.

When you don’t work, you work for the enemy

An article in August 1942 titled: ‘Worthless. A factory in Detroit has adopted an unusual method of dealing with absentee employees’ gives another example of wartime propaganda.

The management of the American factory obtained a quantity of worthless German milliard-mark notes and put one of them in the pay envelope of each of the offending workmen with this explanation:

The extra pay enclosed is your reward for failing to report for work one day last week. This money comes from a country that is glad to pay you not to make supplies for our soldiers. When you don’t work, you work for the enemy.

T.N.T. and wartime photography

A persuasive slogan appears in the October 1942 issue: 'T.N.T.’ The Minister of Production, Oliver Lyttelton, coined the phrase to represent the urgency of the work – ‘Today, Not Tomorrow’. It does not have the explosive meaning that it might be interpreted as today.

Overall, Shipyard Spotlight has many photographs of workers, ships (launching and building), notable visitors (some with various employees ‘photobombing’ the photos) and one entire two-page spread in the July 1943 Supplement dedicated to the women workers of the shipyard, titled: 'Women in shipbuilding; some jobs they can do.'

(There are also numerous photographs of women in shipyards throughout issues of this paper).

Fitting out stage featured in the 'Women in Shipbuilding' section of Shipyard Spotlight (July, 1943).

The captions across all Shipyard Spotlight's photos are very general and few actually state where the photo was taken – for example, ‘A conference in the yard’. Was this due to feelings that if they identified the photo’s location, it may be an incentive target for the enemy?

As well, it is noticeable that the articles rarely, almost never, credit an author. The general feeling by the contributors of this article is that the articles were most probably produced by a few junior civil servants.

Mr Tonnage: a cartoon mascot

In the January 1943 issue, possibly intended as a mascot, a cartoon was introduced called ‘Mr. Tonnage’. This cheeky chap’s job was essentially to encourage workers to increase production with a jolly opinion and to also mock the enemy and perhaps instil bravado among the workers.

A cartoon drawing of 'Mr Tonnage' by J. F. Horrabin in Shipyard Spotlight (January, 1943).

The end of the war and the end of the paper

The May 1945 issue headlined, ‘Supply lines are growing longer’.

The article seems to be encouraging the workers to continue to ‘soldier on', as supplies were needed for the allied troops in Germany and other ships they had built were being sent to the Far East to assist in the fight against the Japanese.

Throughout the newspaper, there were various articles found in the column ‘Mentioned in Despatches’, which made note of vessels and their various actions during the war. They were identified by name of ship and name of the companies that owned them; this shorthand was probably easily known by the men and women who built them.

Another article, ‘For Good Service’, lists names of dockyard workers who were awarded the Imperial Service Medal, along with their occupation and the name of the dockyard where they worked.

A small article – ‘Scrap that becomes souvenirs’ – gives credence to the fact that pieces of the scrapped warships will probably be re-used by ex-Royal Navy personnel to create mementoes such as model ships or furniture. I wonder if any of those creations made their way into museums?

Throughout the war, the ‘troops’ of the shipyards were kept informed, celebrated and encouraged to ‘do their bit’ through this unique publication. In the last issue, the First Lord of the Admiralty, A.V. Alexander repeated the sentiments of the Royal Navy, no doubt which many of the British people shared:

… [we] pay tribute to those who have played their part during the war years in producing the volume of shipping and ship repairs which alone enabled us to keep open the sea lanes to this country.

The effort to produce this newspaper by the Admiralty and the editor C Hope Johnston must have offered the men and women in the shipyards a glimpse of the positive impact that their work was doing for the war effort.

The issues of Shipyard Spotlight in our collection cover the entire run of the publication, from No. 1, June 1942 to No. 43, December 1945. Included are special editions, which are separate from each issue. Most issues consist of four pages and cost one penny per issue.

Resources

Hansard. Oral Answers to Questions, Royal Navy. HC Deb, 9 September 1942, c141.

WordPress. Shipyard Spotlight. Stebbings Archive, 18 June 2011.

Actress runs shipyard. The Daily News, 24 February 1945, page 23.

Please contact the library team if you are interested in learning more about this unique publication.

National Maritime Museum

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This month we explore Shipyard Spotlight, a short-lived wartime government publication recently discovered in the collections of the Caird Library and Archive. It offers researchers a fascinating glimpse into the changing social attitudes of the time.

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The ice trade: a cold business

Importing ice

Harvesting ice

Ice cream

Sources for researching the ice trade

Journey to the Caird Library and Archive

Shipyard Spotlight: hiding in plain sight

About Shipyard Spotlight

The purpose of the publication

Talk of the yards: women rising through the ranks

Competition Corner and a changing workforce

When you don’t work, you work for the enemy