The thoughts ran round and round in Henry’s head.

Never mind who will rid me of this turbulent priest? Rather, who will rid me of this pain and smell. Is it any wonder that I’m thought to be vile tempered? They think I don’t know because they are too afeard to be heard to mention it. But I see their looks.

I am the head of my own Church and monarch of all I survey yet I cannot mount a horse without great assistance and do they know what it feels like to be raised and lowered aboard this ship like any other piece of cargo? I remained seated in my chair throughout and the physical experience was not without its pleasure but to the onlookers. My people? Perhaps they thought a monarch would expect to be conveyed thus? A privilege of such a royal personage.

I am got to sleep by draughts and potions but the pain in my legs is there on my awakening. And my manhood? I dare not think of the power it had when I was younger. And not that much younger either.

Yet here I am with men I trust. Men whom I hold in high esteem and today is an occasion very special for one of them.

‘Gentlemen’ The cabin of the Henry Grace a Dieu fell instantly silent as King Henry VIII spoke. ‘Gentlemen we are here today to celebrate. We came amongst you today because we have long been concerned with regard to our defences here on the south coast of our kingdom. It may be that word of our proposed visitation and inspection here at Portsmouth and Southsea arrived somewhat before us and although all is not as we would have wished it to be we see signs of great effort which pleases us and will displease the French should they make attempts on our kingdom.’

He gazed around the table where his senior naval commanders were seated.

Sir John Dudley his Admiral with his flag flying proudly on the very ship they dined on.

Sir George Carew, Dudley’s second in command who would soon be flying his own flag on the Mary Rose.

Gawen Carew, captain of the Matthew Gonson and Peter Carew, captain of the Great Venetian.

Quite a family gathering The king thought to himself. At least they can be expected to look out for each other when things hot up.

Aloud he continued. ‘We say this a celebration and a celebration it shall be. Let us all celebrate the fact that that under Dudley’s command we have a fleet in excess of sixty fighting ships. If the French should come they will have more ships than us but they will not be English! That is the difference. They are French and their own pox on them! So, a toast gentlemen. A pox upon the French!’

The glasses were raised. The toast cried out and the glasses immediately refilled by the liveried servants and not for the first time either. There was still a plentitude of sweetmeats which the king had a particular liking for littering the table and he appeared quite content to eat them absentmindedly as though the preceding game pies, roast geese and suckling pig had not proved a sufficiency.

Henry observed his seafaring commanders and signed for his page to come forward. As he did so Henry resumed speaking.

‘Again, we repeat. This is a celebration and very much so for you Sir George. You are not only second in command to our good servant Dudley but we name you Vice Admiral and what is a Vice Admiral without a sign of his office? He held out his hand toward his page who placed in it an embroidered velvet pouch which the king opened and extracted from it a golden whistle on a chain.

‘Here Sir George. This whistle shall be your badge of office. Wear it around your neck that all may see that you are the Vice Admiral and that we have every faith in you.’

From outside the cabin came the sound of rapid footsteps across the deck above followed by a clattering of feet down the main ladder and soon after by a discrete, if demanding, series of knocks on the door of the great cabin.

Sir John Dudley leapt to his feet.

‘I apologise sire but this must be a matter of some import to disturb us thus.’ He crossed the cabin and opened the door where a hurried whisper informed him that the French were in sight. Whisper it may have been but all present heard the message.

King Henry bellowed ‘Get someone up the top there for a better sighting.’

Peter Carew left the cabin and climbed to the lookout position at the top of the mainmast and was back again within minutes.

‘Sire’ he panted. ‘It is true. The French are here. They have a number of galleys entering the harbour and I can see sails of many ships behind them.’ 

‘They challenge us in our own backyard do they?’ Cried the king. ‘The fight is on. To your ships and prepare to show the French that we are not sleeping. Sir George we will take the boat with you to my Mary Rose. Let the men see us and know that we are here with them. We shall keep the boat for our short passage to Southsea Castle where we shall watch you trounce these impudent foreigners. We shall be in good company Sir George for your wife, Lady Mary, will share in the victorious spectacle. Come. All haste. All haste.’

Although His Majesty had praised the way that the preparations for just such an occurrence the undeniable truth was that the fleet was ill-prepared. Many ships were still undergoing repairs and vital supplies were still wending their torturously slow way by lumbering oxcarts over uneven roads. The promised additional ships from the west of England had not, so far, been sighted.

The fleet in Portsmouth harbour were a veritable hive of activity making sure gunpowder and shot were in the right place and that weapons for hand-to-hand fighting, should it come to that were within easy reach. Every man had a task assigned to him but not every man fully understood how to perform that task. Surgeons laid out their instruments below decks and on the main deck netting was rigged in case the French came alongside and attempted to board. The men waited and the officers strutted like peacocks, outwardly giving the impression of supreme confidence but inwardly, knowing they would be heavily outnumbered. They sought within their hearts the strength to inspire their men by their show of calm courage and the awareness that they had seen their king this very day and that he would be watching them.

Everywhere the sound of orders being shouted created a frenzy of activity. The French had sent in galleys as their first wave of attack. In a confined space such as Portsmouth harbour these oared vessels could create havoc. By not relying on the vagaries of the wind they could manoeuvre using their oars to go in any direction they chose. Their guns would be considerably less in number than those of the English but if the English could not turn so that their guns bore then that difference was quickly cancelled out.

Anchors were being raised. Captains cursed other ships which they felt were getting in their way but it was the Henry Grace a Dieu and the Mary Rose who would lead the defence of the English fleet. Both heavily armed they could make short work of the galleys providing the wind was kind to them. It was for just such a situation as this that the Mary Rose had been adapted so that she had as her main armament ninety-one guns spread over three decks and additional smaller guns through the ship which had made her an even more formidable fighting machine.

King Henry watched the unfolding drama from the ramparts of Southsea Castle.

‘There. See. Our brave lads will make short work of these Frenchies!’ He said to Lady Mary by his side.

What seemed to be one large explosion rent the air as the Mary Rose fired a broadside into the French galleys.

‘Now Lady Mary watch how your brave husband orders Captain Roger Grenville to turn the ship to fire the guns on the other side. They won’t be able to offer any resistance after two heavy blasts. Go to it Sir George. Go to it!’ The king was waving his hat in the air with excitement as he watched his Mary Rose begin to turn.

It was then that that fate took a hand. The Mary Rose was heeling over completing the turn and ready to right herself when it was done when the wind, seemingly without warning, changed direction. She continued to heel and as she did so the lower gunports on the other side became submerged and the sea surged in. Within minutes the Mary Rose was no longer a proud fighting ship but was resting on the harbour bottom with only the tops of her masts marking where she was.

‘No, no, no!’ Cried Henry. ‘This cannot be. Did you hear the men? Did you? A sound more piteous than ever I heard. They did their duty and were trapped like rats under those nets.’ As he turned away he remembered Lady Mary who was also looking on with horror as she realised she may never see her husband again.

His Majesty King Henry VIII moved further down the ramparts his eyes filling with tears as he thought to himself; They must not see us cry but be advised France. We swear to make you shed tears like mothers have never shed tears before.

 

Both Sir George Carew with his proudly worn golden whistle and the captain of the Mary Rose, Roger Grenville were drowned. Of the 415 people on board only thirty survived.

It was the fickle wind which, despite its part in the sinking of the Mary Rose which prevented the French from achieving a humiliating victory. The galleys were no match for the heavily armed English warships in open battle. They relied on their manoeuvrability to be able to strike and then move out of range to achieve their task, which, in this case was to soften up the English resistance and then to withdraw so that the French fleet of warships could enter Portsmouth harbour and complete the task.

Withdraw they did but the change in the direction of the wind meant the French fleet could not enter the harbour to engage the English. Eventually any fighting became a battle of wills over several days. Dudley kept the English fleet in the harbour while the French taunted them from the outside. Shots were exchanged and claims of damage inflicted were made by both sides.

But it was the loss of the Mary Rose with so many of her crew plus the armament at the bottom of the sea which caused an even greater imbalance between the French and English fleets which more than likely made Dudley decide to stay where he was. 

That the lower gunports were not closed formed a major contributory factor in the possibly already top-heavy Mary Rose sinking so rapidly is now accepted as being fact. Whether or not she would have righted herself should the gunports have been closed is a matter of conjecture. What is undeniable is that they were left open, and the question is: why?

Whilst there may be several answers to this is it not likely that the reason lies in the areas of chains of command and communication?

 Whose responsibility was it to ensure the gunports were closed bearing in mind that these lowest ones were a mere eighteen inches (half a metre) above the waterline?

 Would it to be left to the individual gun captains to take independent action or would they believe that to be beyond there level of responsibility?  

Was there a designated officer who would take that decision to ensure they were closed in a coordinated manner? If so would he expect to wait for an order from the Captain?

Just how well trained were the officers at this time? Did they serve a certain number of years as an apprenticeship or were many deemed capable of command by virtue of being gentlemen whose command was by the right of their decorated codpieces?

Henry is remembered largely for his number of wives and the ways that he rid himself of most of them as well as the establishment of his own Church (the Church of England) and the dissolution of the monasteries. 

But King Henry VIII left behind another legacy. 

An established navy with the necessary administrative framework to enable it to be fit for purpose.

When he ascended to the throne the King’s Navy was composed of a mere five ships on a permanent basis. On his death in 1547 it was in excess of fifty.

Regardless of Tudor monarchs being seen as having absolute power they did not perform the everyday administrative tasks necessary for running a country themselves. Just as today the efficient management of all the aspects of the various areas involved from taxation to the maintenance of royal and government buildings to the armed forces was reliant on an effective civil service.

The giving away of power, or the perception of it, was not something that came easily to Thomas Wolsey the King’s all-powerful Lord Chancellor and later to a lesser extent Thomas Cromwell as his Lord Privy Seal. Whilst Cromwell was a meticulous, and some might say obsessive, organiser organise he did with great aplomb. He constantly supervised his appointees and ensured they were aware of it. 

To modern day thinking some appointments would appear to be difficult to justify in terms of efficiency. Why would the person appointed to be in charge of the navy’s victualling be Bishop Gardiner who, to all intents and purposes, knew next to nothing about the subject and apparently showed little interest and was also still responsible for the management of his own diocese.

A more justifiable appointment was William Gonson who was suitably experienced and prior to his death by suicide in 1544 was effectively responsible for the navy except at sea.

His death placed the Lord High Admiral John Dudley in a position where rapid change regarding the overall management in all aspects was needed. To achieve this, he appointed in 1545 seven people who were all experienced in their particular areas of maritime skills be it as sailors, victuallers, ordinance or anything else needed to keep a navy afloat, supplied and ready to fight.

By 1546 this Council for Marine Causes was established on a permanent basis with its own budget. Generous stipends were paid to the seven members so they would not have to use their positions to line their own pockets which was a departure from the norm for positions of this nature.

What was being created here was the foundation of what was to become the Navy Board and marked the move to a more professional King’s Navy.