Few figureheads
survived the harsh environment of the ocean, but those that have give a glimpse
of a lively art form, lost today.
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Twinned figurehead of SS
Great Britain, courtesy Mike
Peel
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From pre-history, ships have had some form of bow decoration.
These may have been apotropaic (meant to ward off harm), intimidating, or
simply beautiful, but they’re found everywhere old wrecks are raised. Maori war
canoes carried carvings, as did boats of Pacific Islanders and Native Americans.
The prows of Viking long ships reared up into dragon’s heads. The Romans honored
swans; Greeks used bronze boars; Phoenicians decorated with horses, and Carthaginians
used Amun the ram. Ancient Egyptians painted eyes to see across uncharted
waters.
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Figurehead Hiawatha, charcoal on paper, by Sir William Russell Flint, private collection. The joke’s on that ship-builder; Hiawatha was a man.
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It was with the development of the galleon in the 16th century
that the figurehead took its modern form. Galleons were large ships with lots of real estate above the waterline. Critically, they have a stem protruding
forward in space. That meant there was room to pin a statue (or two) under the
bow. At the height of their popularity, figureheads were enormous and extremely
heavy.
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Figurehead of HMS
Black Prince, 1861, named after Edward
the Black Prince, victor over the French at
Crecy and Poitiers. Imagine seeing that come at you in the English Channel.
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The British navy realized fairly quickly that all that
weight way up front affected the steering. An outright ban wasn’t feasible,
because figureheads were popular. But by the Napoleonic wars, figureheads had
been reduced to manageable size. They survived throughout the Age of Sail. Even
the fast, light, and economical clipper ships of the 19th century carried
them.
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Figurehead Lalla
Rookh, charcoal on paper, by Sir William Russell Flint, private collection
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Figureheads weren’t just female; they covered a wide range of
persons, deities, saints and animals. Caryatids, allegorical figures, putti,
gods, and warriors were all borrowed from high culture. The carvings were sometimes
portraits of the person the boat was named after. But above all, figureheads represented the interests of their times, often in a lighthearted way.
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Eagle figurehead from
the USS Lancaster, circa 1880 by
carver John Haley Bellamy, courtesy Mariner’s Museum. Any sailor would know
instantly that this was an American ship.
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The purpose of a figurehead—as with all naval heraldry—was to
identify vessels through symbols. Much of the navy during the Age of Sail was
illiterate. It was extremely useful for the man on watch to be able to tell
whether the boat bearing down on them was friend or foe.
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Figure head of the
witch Nannie Dee on the clipper ship Cutty Sark. She’s carrying a mare’s tale, and the boat is named after her
chemise.
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A few efforts were made to attach figureheads to steamships,
but the custom didn’t really survive the Age of Sail. Twentieth-century warships
needed battering rams at their bows. The curved stem and bowsprit, so useful
for hanging sculpture, were obsolete.
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Inca warrior figurehead from BAP
Union, training ship of the Peruvian
navy. Courtesy Gallery of the Ministry of Defense of Peru.
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Today, few examples of figureheads remain, as they were
constantly subjected to the battering of the sea. And, with few exceptions, the
men who carved them remain anonymous. But poke around a maritime museum and you’re
bound to find a few examples of this folk art form, sadly lost forever.
