Essential Information
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National Maritime Museum
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18 Feb 2012
Our item of the month is a volume from the Museum’s shipbuilding series of manuscripts (SPB).
One would therefore be forgiven for thinking that the manuscript, and indeed this article, is all about the construction of ships. In truth, SPB/15 contains a more varied, and eclectic, mix of content. Briefly described on our online catalogue as a ‘commonplace book with notes on shipbuilding and other naval topics by Captain Edward Rotheram’, the manuscript includes details and measurements of ships (of course) as well as an assortment of quotations, advice, facts and figures.
Edward Rotheram was born in Hexham, Northumberland, in 1753. The manuscript appears to have been compiled from 1787 until Rotheram’s death in 1830. A date of 1787 or soon after is relatively secure as the first page contains “memorandums relative to [his] dear and honoured father” who died on 18 March of that year. That the manuscript was maintained for some years after that is implied by some of the more idiosyncratic entries. The inclusion of Rotheram’s ‘growls’ hints at an officer passing on his rather cynical advice to a younger generation.
Rotheram’s father was John Rotheram, a well-respected physician and the future naval officer had been instructed in mathematical learning at a young age. An inquisitive mind was a family trait and Edward’s brother, also called John, was a professor of natural philosophy at St. Andrew’s University.
It would be inaccurate to suggest the Rotheram’s commonplace book contains nothing to warrant its cataloguing within the Archives shipbuilding series of manuscripts. Although Rotherham often seems not to have recorded anything hugely original, preferring to cite the ideas of other writers, there is an explanation of Sir Edward Pakenham’s proposed mast design. Rotheram gives detailed lists of the dimensions of various ships of the Royal Navy. His record of the “dimensions of sails for a ship of each class” wonderfully demonstrates the scale of the task of equipping the Navy. The list of sails required to put a 100 gun ship to sea fills a whole page in the large volume and would have cost over £700 in 1773, the year the information is taken from.
A more personal account of expenses is given on page 28 where Rotheram records “the exact expenses of a Lieutenant of his Majesty’s Navy who liv’d near three hundred miles North of London and received orders to join his ship at Plymouth”. After totalling up the cost of such things as “two weeks lodging and board at Dock” (1s 6d); a gold laced hat (as will be shown, a particular concern of Rotheram’s, £2 14s); one speaking trumpet (5s), his outlay was a grand total of £90 17s 10 ½d. Rotheram is quick to note that the yearly wage of a lieutenant was £72 before writing “this good officer when he hath served one whole year in defence of his King and country, his cloaths worn out, and stock exhausted, finds himself in debt”.
Edward Rotheram did progress beyond the rank of impoverished lieutenant, although quite how successfully he did this is debatable. He was on the Culloden when the Royal Navy emerged victorious at the Glorious First of June. Following this battle he was promoted to Captain. Rotheram served under Vice-Admiral Collingwood at the Battle of Trafalgar and John Marshall recounts a story of his bravery (or stubbornness?) in his Royal Naval Biography; or, Memoirs of the Services, published in 1824:
The following anecdote has been related of Captain Rotheram, and we have no reason to doubt the authenticity thereof: ‘A heavy shower of musketry had nearly swept the quarter-deck of the Royal Sovereign, when some of his officers requested him not to expose himself so much to the enemy’s small-arm men, by wearing his epaulets and a gold laced hat. “Let me alone,” he replied, “I have always fought in a cocked hat, and always will”’
Whether it was the gold laced hat he purchased for £2 14s is not recorded in Marshall or the commonplace book. Nor is it recorded whether his men were genuinely concerned for Rotheram’s safety or if they were more worried about being themselves caught in the cross-fire.
Rotheram was not always a popular man and Collingwood reserves some especially barbed comments for him. In a letter to his sister dated 26 August 1805 Collingwood describes the men he is serving with:
I have a diligent young man for my secretary and Clarell, my Lieutenant, is the spirit of the ship; but such a Captain [Rotheram], such a stick, I wonder very much how such people get forward. I should (I firmly believe) with his nautical ability and knowledge and exertion, have been a bad lieutenant at this day. Was he brought up in the Navy? For he has very much the stile of the Coal Trade about him, except that they are good seamen.
In a letter, also to his sister, dated 1 June 1807, Collingwood responds to the news that Rotheram had been court martialled for unacceptable conduct towards his officers on-board the Bellerophon.
In a frequently quoted line, the old Vice-Admiral is even more frank in his assessment of Rotheram stating that “I think him a stupid man”.
The Bellerophon was to be Rotheram’s last command at sea. After asking three times, he was made a Companion of the Order of the Bath in 1815 and was appointed one of the Captains of Greenwich Hospital in 1828. Judging by the contents of page 84 of his commonplace book it seems unlikely Rotheram spent his last years as the clichéd retired naval officer might by over indulging. A copy of Dr Lettsom’s “moral and physical thermometer” indicates that, although the consumption of water led to “health, wealth and serenity of mind”, drinking rum in the morning would bring nothing but madness and palsy.
Edward Rotheram died on 2 November 1830 and is buried in Bildeston, Suffolk. In his commonplace book, he has left us a most interesting record of a fascinating character.
Richard, Assistant Archivist