For the British, perhaps no other subject has been as studied or as linked to national pride as the history of their nation at sea. Particularly in the Victorian era—the great age of Nelson himself—British historians looked to their nautical past in order to define themselves and explain their Empire’s successes. Even now, the study of England’s maritime history (especially through the lens of nautical archaeology or as part of the rising field of Atlantic World history) continues unabated. The study of sea power and maritime history in the Middle Ages, however, has received comparatively little focus. In a new collection of essays, Roles of the Sea in Medieval England, editor Richard Gorski and a wide range of other scholars seek to address this imbalance.

The result of a conference held at Rye in October 2008, the essays in this collection cover a broad range of topics and a wide background of historical fields. Richard Unger’s essay, for instance, is entitled “Changes in Ship Design and Construction: England in the European Mould,” but is not simply an archaeological examination of riggings and sails. Rather, it includes sections on the economic reasons for changes in ship design, the role of religion in the process, and a particularly useful section on “Play, Curiosity, and Human Aspects” of changing ship designs, following the work of Huizinga. Other essays focus on the economics of the Cinque Ports, an examination of England’s admirals in the late fourteenth century, and, in two later essays, England’s relations with the Hanseatic League and Ireland. The final essay, Friel’s “How Much Did the Sea Matter in Medieval England (c.1200-c.1500)?” provides an excellent closing chapter for the collection, concluding that “the sea and its uses mattered enormously to medieval England,” even if the majority of the common population was unaware of the fact. 

The most useful section of the book is Gorski’s own introduction, “Roles of the Sea: Views from the Shore.” The essay serves not only as an introduction to the various other topics, but also as a primer on the field of maritime history in general. For the non-specialist, it offers a brief overview of the historiography and particular features and problems of studying maritime and naval history, while specialists are given much to think about regarding, for instance, the sea itself as an actor in the historical record. Gorski, along with all of the other authors in the collection, provides extensive footnotes, drawn prodigiously from both primary sources and secondary sources in English and other languages. A single minor complaint that can be made is that the book’s title may be somewhat misleading: “medieval England” is a broad period of time that includes a large swath of history, from circa AD 400 to 1200, that this book mostly ignores. As a collection of essays on England and the sea in the High Middle Ages, however, Roles of the Sea is a welcome addition to any maritime or English history shelf.

Reviewed by Ryan T. Goodman, East Carolina University

Chet Van Duzer's study of the wild sea monsters adorning European maps from the tenth through the sixteenth centuries is a lavish survey of the panoply of monsters, whales, hybrids, and bizarre creatures occupying the middles and the margins of old oceans and newly-charted seas. Sea Monsters on Medieval and Renaissance Maps follows the transformation of these creatures from imaginative emblems of the dangerous seas to the common whales harvested in the high north of sixteenth-century Spitsbergen and Newfoundland. After noting that most early European maps do not feature sea monsters or whales, Van Duzer clearly and convincingly shows that depictions of sea monsters can represent transforming notions of the sea and its dangers, but also highlight the playful imaginations of artists and mapmakers of medieval and renaissance Europe.

Van Duzer has written an unparalleled study on a wondrous and often overlooked medieval and renaissance artistic tradition. The closest related work is perhaps James Sweeney's 1972 Pictorial History of Sea Monsters and Other Dangerous Marine Life. The sea monsters depicted throughout Van Duzer's beautifully illustrated British Library volume strike absolute wonder in the reader today, and the author provides valuable insight into what medieval and renaissance viewers must have made of these sinewy, silly, horned, fanged, and fearsome creatures. The choice to include images of marine monsters on maps was typically that of the patron, and mapmakers had a wide array of models, observations or imaginations to guide their depictions. The rationale of the patrons and artists, though, in the placement, character, and quantity of monsters on maps could be multifaceted. Van Duzer's study helps to explain which, where, and why monsters appear. He accomplishes this through a chronological and descriptive survey of key maps in the sea monster canon, always cross-referencing relevant maps to create a genealogy of images. These sea creatures served as geographical warnings for sailors of dangerous or unexplored areas, as simple decorations, as moral cautions, or even as horror vacui fillers. Among the book's most engaging sections are the comparative ‘Pictorial Excursus,’ which focus on whimsical and dangerous sea monsters and the ‘cartographic career of the walrus.’ These brief digressions are particularly successful in their choice comparisons of illustrations, underscoring transformations of certain themes and images from early to later maps. 

If any critiques are to be made of this incomparable book, one could point to the potential benefits of a more synthetic conclusion that could bookend the brief but immensely useful introduction. Having witnessed the transformations of various creatures throughout Van Duzer's survey, a synthesis of outcomes could underscore the changing roles these images played in the minds of audiences from medieval Europe and beyond.

Scholars will appreciate the twenty-two useful pages of endnotes and the index of manuscripts. These accompany a somewhat less useful two-page index. More importantly, scholars gain a ready, chronological hand list of maritime imagery upon famous and less famous early European maps and globes. General readers will delight in the detailed look at the animals and outskirts of medieval geographies. Finally, Van Duzer reminds scholars that it sometimes helps to let the eye wander to the margins, to get a different historical perspective of medieval perspectives of their surrounding seas. This critical analysis of a hitherto ignored cartographic trope adds much-needed depth to our understanding of medieval and later perceptions of the sea and its mysterious creatures. 

Reviewed by Vicki Ellen Szabo, Western Carolina University

The bond between man and machine is often a strange and unexplainable relationship that spans distance and time. From construction to its final resting place on the ocean floor, Stephen Curley provides a meticulously written and researched account of the ship known as USS Queens, SS Excambion, and USTS Texas Clipper. The format plays a crucial role in the development of the story, as each portion opens and ends one of the lives of “the ship that would not die.” As Queens, the ship made its debut near the end of World War II and became one of five attack transports that survived the war while building an impressive career, including service at Pearl Harbor and Iwo Jima. The converted Excambion cruised for sixty-eight voyages, the majority of which garnished a sterling reputation for not only the ship itself, but also for American Export Lines. After being retired due to a decline in its reputation and changes in sea based shipping, Excambion was laid up until the Texas Maritime Academy purchased the ship and ushered in its final floating chapter. Texas Clipper served as a floating classroom for over thirty years, educating many young seamen. Now an artificial reef, this ship continues to live an “unending” life. The Ship that Would not Die is not just an historical account of this wondrous vessel, but a testament to the relationship that involves man, machine, and sea.

Each facet of the ship’s life is masterfully documented in both a technical and common parlance. Curley provides a rich and detailed context that places the reader directly on board the vessel. Whether during its important support role in World War II, its height of swank while earning a reputation for being a party ship, or during its years as a teaching vessel, one cannot help but feel a part of the ship. Curley creates a virtual walk-through of the ship by his use of engaging text, well placed context points, and personal accounts that allow the reader to connect with the past crew and ship. To call this tome an “account” is an understatement. 

The technical information and staggering amount of information compiled in this book is impressive in and of itself. The true brilliance found throughout the pages of The Ship that Would not Die are the narratives and details provided by previous ship’s crew and others whose lives have been in one way or another connected to this machine. In complement with the anecdotes, Curley provides the reader with over a hundred photographs that are seamlessly woven throughout the text. From its construction as Queens, its voyages as a cargo-passenger liner, its many hours of service as a classroom, and its final function as home to hundreds of types of marine life, this ship will never truly die. Stephen Curley has captured the essence of the vessel known by hundreds of crewmembers, passengers, students, and divers that truly, as he concludes, “encapsulates so much of America’s dream.”

Reviewed by Benjamin Wells, University of West Florida

Written by Marcus Faulkner, and introduced by naval historian Andrew Lambert, War at Sea: A Naval Atlas 1939-1945 is a nearly comprehensive visual and narrative account of the naval actions of the Second World War. The text breaks away from the familiar large campaign focus of traditional naval historiography, and instead presents a balanced view of the surface engagements, amphibious landings, air campaigns, operational movements, and minor skirmishes of the water-borne conflict through a series of detailed color maps and brief narrative entries.

The atlas, as discussed by Faulkner in the preface, is designed to serve two functions. The first is as an overall history of the conflict. The chronological organization of the text offers a systemic view of the naval war in the seas around Europe, Asia, Africa, and the Americas, and successfully illustrates the fluid and often overlapping nature of naval combat. The second function is that of a reference point from which to further analyze specific campaigns or operations. In most cases, the larger operations, such as the Battle of the Atlantic or the raid on Pearl Harbor, are allotted two pages, whereas the smaller events, such as Operation Pamphlet or the Battle of Savo Island, are allotted one page. Owing to the predominantly visual nature of the text, each map contains a geographic reference point, a breakdown of relevant Allied and Axis forces, and a color-coded order of movements in order to provide a detailed, complete picture of the event. 

War at Sea: A Naval Atlas 1939-1945 is a well-balanced, extensive examination of the major and minor occurrences of the naval portion of World War II. The author presents the material in a concise, easy to read format, and the wealth of visual information and accompanying explanations, complemented by the use of color, symbols, and a glossary of terms and abbreviations, allow even a lay reader to follow and understand the text. The complementary organization and thorough account of primary and secondary source material make this a must have reference for scholars and armchair historians alike.

Reviewed by Nicole Silverblatt, East Carolina University

As in the two other volumes of this series, Lavery frames his work chronologically with care to address the historical processes of the time. His section on World War II, for example, details the training of recruits and the changing structure of the navy but is not centered on the great battles or engagements of this epic “people’s war.” This book is not a standard treatment of the British navy in war and peace. Other works will offer this perspective. Of course, Lavery does address conflict in Palestine, the Cold War, the Falklands, the Gulf Wars as well as terrorism and piracy. But these important engagements and issues provide the structure and not the content of his work.

Earlier in this review I suggested that these books would be welcomed by both general readers and scholars alike. They can be read from cover to cover or used as a reference to provide details of naval life during a particular period or to understand changes in the navy from its uniforms to ranks. More important are the extensive glossaries and bibliographies provided with each book. Both advanced scholars and general readers will benefit from his extensive lists of naval histories, memoirs, biographies, manuscripts, annuals, official publications, newspapers and even television series. These and other important sources will help guide future students of maritime and naval history to build on Lavery’s important work.

Reviewed by Donald S. Parkerson, East Carolina University

Matched with his first volume that focused on the common seamen in the Royal Navy from the ninth to mid-nineteenth centuries (Royal Tars: the Lower Deck of the Royal Navy, 875 – 1850, 2010) these two important volumes provide readers with an encyclopedic perspective on the seamen who helped to make the Royal Navy great.

A generation ago these books could not have been written. As late as the 1970s the command form of military and naval history dominated and able seamen, along with their counterparts in the marines and army, were seldom studied and rarely mentioned. It was the Admiralty and the general staff who held center stage in the historical discourse. We were still under the spell of the “great man theory of history.”

With the emergence of the new social history however, things began to change. Historians continued to pay homage to the great men (and sometimes the great women) of the past—but the spell had been broken. Now history from the “bottom up” began to take its place in the historiography. What was once called the “new naval history” and the “new military history” is now an accepted part of the discourse, providing casual readers and serious historians alike with a broader and more comprehensive perspective on the past. Brian Lavery’s contribution to this process of historiographic change is significant. These three works represent the maturation of the “new” naval history.

In Able Seamen, Lavery introduces us to “Jack” in 1850 as he faced the bewildering changes both in the Navy and in the world around him. Like his cousins on land who were dealing with the rapid changes in society and the economy brought on by industrialization, Jack faced a similar set of changes. The sailing line of battle ships were essentially unchanged from the time of the Spanish Armada with some minor exceptions. The sea seemed unchanging and eternal. Generations of men had gone to sea and its traditions were deep indeed. And then, within a generation, their world changed forever. First was the introduction of steam power that transformed the fundamentals of seamanship. Then came the iron clad and steel hulled vessels. Turret guns, rifled guns and torpedoes would follow. Later submarines and airplanes would become important parts of the naval arsenal. Old skills quickly become obsolete and new ones had to be acquired. Naval traditions changed quickly and a new kind of seaman with new ratings was now taking his place in the ranks of the Royal Navy.

Lavery takes an encyclopaedic approach to describe these changes and the response of seamen to them. His ten chronological chapters address issues including recruitment, rating, pay, training, discipline and messing In addition, Jack’s social and leisure world is also discussed in some detail. This approach is both useful and a bit daunting. The casual reader interested in naval history may be overwhelmed while the specialist might want more. And yet this criticism is common among books that attempt rather complex topics. Lavery’s style of writing and his organizational skill, however, will help the reader navigate this material.

Brian Lavery completes his study of seamen in the lower deck with his recently published All Hands, bringing the story to completion since 1939. The primary themes of change, adaptation and response developed in Able Seamen remain the centerpiece of this new work. While able seamen of the mid nineteenth century were forced to adapt to steam power, iron and steel hull vessels and breech loading artillery, the seamen of the twentieth century had newer and seemingly more dramatic challenges. Lavery demonstrates that the “jack of all trades” that dominated the Royal Navy in the earlier period was rapidly giving way to a more professionally trained group of men and women who were specialists with extensive training in engineering and computer applications. As in his earlier volumes, Lavery’s description of change allows the direct parallel to life beyond the sea. The complexity of life, the need for greater education and the technological revolution of the late twentieth century were challenges for seaman and landsman alike. While this volume spends less time discussing the social life of “Jack,” (there is a short section of the wives of seamen, and privileges afforded families in the post war period) he does discuss “ethnic minorities,” homosexuality, the Wrens, as well as the general issue of women at sea.

Reviewed by Donald S. Parkerson, East Carolina University

This work does an excellent job of placing the tragedy and human drama of the sinking of the passenger ship Athena on September 3, 1941, in various contexts: the outbreak of World War Two; German submarine strategy and tactics; and the deliberations of Franklin Roosevelt towards neutrality. Since the attack on the ship came immediately after the invasion of Poland and the declaration of war by England and France against Germany, but before any other attack on English targets, this event can be seen, as the author points out, as the first and opening shot of World War Two beyond Poland.

The author constructs an excellent narrative derived from hundreds of first-hand accounts found in memoirs, letters, news accounts and other documents. He gives a vivid account of the attack on the ship, the transfer of passengers and crew to lifeboats, their survival overnight in lifeboats, their ultimate rescue and transport to Canada and the United States, and in some cases, the details of their later lives. Carroll presents a condensed version of the expansion of the Nazi regime in Europe in the 1930s; the litany is familiar to students of the period. However, for readers needing the context, the summary is very useful.

For mariners, Caroll raises interesting issues: apparently the policy of "women and children" first was ill-advised since it led to separation of families and the lack of strong arms at the oars in lifeboats. Lifeboat procedures were so complex as to be difficult to fulfill under emergency conditions; yet order prevailed and the vast majority of passengers survived.

The work, either explicitly or implicitly, also raises some thought-provoking historical questions. The treatment of the German position is not particularly sensitive to the dilemmas faced by the German commander and his superior officers. It is clear from Carroll's account that the torpedoing of Athena was a mistake, soon recognized by U-boat commander Fritz-Julius Lemp, who had concluded that the ship was a British warship because it ran without lights and maneuvered as a warship rather than a liner. Even so, Carroll still appears to reflect the British position that the event showed German ruthlessness, savagery, and inhumanity. At the same time, he includes enough evidence to show that the attack did not reflect those qualities. The reader is left to draw his or her own conclusions.

Carroll suggests that the Athena episode affected public opinion and official policy in both Canada and the United States. The evidence he presents on this score is far less detailed and compelling than the detailed account of the event itself. Even so, the information he provides can contribute to understanding the Canadian declaration of war, the changing attitudes towards neutrality in the United States, and the passage of the U.S. Cash and Carry Neutrality Law in November 1939.

Reviewed by Rodney Carlisle, Rutgers University

The subtitle for German Capital Ships of the Second World War, “the ultimate photograph album,” provides the best possible description of the contents of this massive book. A joint project between one of the doyens of German naval technological historiography and a prominent member of the newer generation of European researchers and writers on the topic, this work contains one of the most comprehensive assemblages of photographs of Germany’s post World War I capital ships yet created, many of them rarely, if ever, previously published.

The positive features of this work are the sheer mass of imagery, their breadth of coverage, their generally clear reproduction, and the frequent use of large-format presentation. There also are drawings detailing internal arrangements, general layouts, and detail changes. These, unfortunately, tend to be rather small, despite the large page size.

The vast majority of the textual content of the book is contained in extended photograph captions preceded by short introductory essays for each chapter. Given the authors’ goals, this is not unexpected, but it makes for considerable difficulty in locating specific information of technical details, since there is no index. Furthermore, by their very nature captions tend to be presented in smaller print, and the publisher’s decision to place many of them within the background of the images reduces their clarity.

Overall, this is a very useful book, especially for modelers of these ships, despite its rather high price.

Reviewed by Mark Myers, New Bern, North Carolina

The Barbary Wars (especially the war against Tripoli) is one of those evergreen topics for naval and military historians. Intrepid Sailors: The Legacy of Preble’s Boys and the Tripoli Campaign, by Chipp Reid is the latest addition to that genre.

The book tells the tale of Commodore Edwin Preble’s command in the Mediterranean during the First Barbary War that ran from 1801 through 1805. Preble commanded United States Navy forces during the most dramatic period of the war, in 1803-1804. It saw the grounding and capture of the 44-gun frigate Philadelphia in Tripoli Harbor, the burning of Philadelphia by an American expedition, and several heavy bombardments of Tripoli by the United States Navy.

Reid places the focus on the squadron’s junior officers, especially Stephen Decatur, Charles Stewart, and Richard Somers. In many ways the book is the tale of the war as seen through the eyes of these three, men who had grown up together and attended the same school during their youth.

Reid, a journalist, provides a journalist’s approach. Intrepid Sailors is an adventure tale, and a ripping good one, with an emphasis on action rather than analysis. It is almost a twenty-first-century century update of Fletcher Pratt’s Preble’s Boys.

The book is drawn from original sources, including Congressional and United States Navy records. Unfortunately, Reid occasionally pays too little attention to detail, leading to uneven accuracy. Reid describes Intrepid as having lateen sails, yet drawings of the ship by the squadron’s midshipmen clearly show it as a conventional square-rigged ketch. Intrepid lacked even the lateen mizzen still occasionally used on the Mediterranean at that time, instead having a boomed gaff on the mizzen. Similar errors of varying significance bedevil Reid’s text, including discrepancies in frigate ratings, issues with armament and details such as uniforms for sailors in the United States Navy circa 1803.

Reid is also so focused on what was going that he often neglects the why behind the what. Reid never explores the reasons why Tripoli failed to fit out Philadelphia for sea, and never examines the factors that led to success in burning Philadelphia and failure in using Intrepid as an explosion ship.

Intrepid Sailors does provide a solid description of events in the Mediterranean during the First Barbary War. It outlines what happened, providing a good introduction for those seeking a readable and excitingly-written account of that war. It also offers a workmanlike description of the lead-up to Preble’s arrival, and follows the post-1804 careers of those featured in the story.

Those familiar with the First Barbary War are unlikely to learn much new from Intrepid Sailors. Unless you absolutely have to read everything written about this war, do not feel guilty about giving Intrepid Sailors a pass. For those seeking a rousing basic introduction to the war with Tripoli or simply seeking an exciting tale, Intrepid Sailors is a worthwhile read.

Reviewed by Mark Lardas, League City, Texas

The Western Ship Model Exhibition in 2011 presented almost two hundred ship models to its visitors, ranging in period from the early sixteenth to the early twenty-first centuries. The core of this publication illustrates them all with sharp color photographs.

The Many Aspects of Ship Modeling is for ship modelers and those who appreciate and enjoy the products of such craftsmen. The useful introductory essay and informative captions add much to the feast of imagery. There is also a brief history of the Western Ship Model Exhibitions and Conferences since their inception in 1994, and a brief bibliography.

The most compelling feature of this work is the way that it demonstrates the sheer variety of materials and approaches that ship modelers use for their creations. In addition to the usual wooden models, there are multiple examples here that use plastics (of various types) and even paper as the basic materials. As one would expect, there are many very fine scratch built creations depicted, but it also portrays excellent models made wholly from kits, either as the manufacturer intended or heavily modified to enhance accuracy.

The author, Donald Dressel, makes it clear that he applauds this variety. His introduction, and the captions, are free from prejudice for or against the modelers’ particular approaches and highlight their accomplishments.

The Many Aspects of Ship Modeling is a niche publication, but its message that there are so many different approaches to ship modeling deserves the widest possible circulation.

Reviewed by David Evans, Aurora, Colorado