|
THE LIEUTENANT AND COMMANDER; BEING AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF HIS OWN CAREER,
FROM
FRAGMENTS OF VOYAGES AND TRAVELS
BY CAPTAIN BASIL HALL, R.N., F.R.S.
LONDON:
BELL AND DALDY, 186, FLEET STREET,
AND SAMPSON LOW, SON, AND CO.
47, LUDGATE HILL.
1862.
PREFACE.
The present volume is rather a condensation than an abridgment of the
later volumes of Captain Hall's "Fragments of Voyages and Travels,"
inasmuch as it comprises all the chapters of the second and third
series, only slightly abbreviated, in which the author describes the
various duties of the naval lieutenant and commander, the personal
narrative being the framework, and his own experience in both
capacities providing the details.
The editor has no hesitation in stating, after the careful perusal and
analysis he has necessarily made of this work, and that, with a
tolerably extensive knowledge of books, he knows of none which may,
with more propriety, be placed in the hands of young men, whatever
may be their destination in life; but more especially are they adapted
for the use of young officers and all aspirants to a seaman's life.
The personal narrative, slight though it is, renders it very amusing,
and every point the author makes inculcates a rigorous attention to
"duty" duly tempered with discretion and humanity in commanding
officers.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Taking a line in the service--Duty of officers--The dashing
boys--Dashing boys ashore--Philosophers afloat--Naval
statesmen--Scientific officers--Hard-working officers--Poetical
aspirants--Taking a line
CHAPTER II.
A sailor on shore--Irish hospitality--A sailor ashore--Irish
factions--Irish scenery--Land-locked bay--Reflections and
plans--An awkward dilemma--A retreat--A country party--A medical
experiment--My reception
CHAPTER III.
Tricks upon travellers--Irish refinement--A wise resolve--After
dinner--The second bottle--One bottle more--Second thoughts
best--The game of humbug--The climax--You're off, are you?--A
practical bull--Irish hospitality
CHAPTER IV.
The Admiralty List--Chances of promotion--The Admiral's list--My
own disappointment--A good start--Homeward bound--A spell of bad
weather
CHAPTER V.
The tropical regions at sea--Sir Nathaniel Dance--The old Indian
ships--Social life at sea--Details of the voyage--The Canary
Islands--The Trade-winds--Changes of climate--The variable
winds--North-east Trades--Our limited knowledge--The great
monsoons
CHAPTER VI.
The Trade-winds--The monsoons--Theory of the
Trade-winds--Explanations--Tropical winds--Motion of cold
air--Direction of clouds--Equatorial Trades--Calms and
variables--South-east Trades--Application of theories--Atlantic
winds--Monsoons of India--Trade-winds of the pacific--Monsoons
of Indian seas--Velocity of equatorial air--Obstructions of the
land--Horsburg's remarks--Dampier's essay
CHAPTER VII.
Progress of the voyage--Cape of Good Hope--Ships' decks in the
tropics--Sweeping the decks--Marine shower-bath--Flying-fish--A
calm--Ships in a calm--A tropical shower--Washing-day--Comforts
of fresh water
CHAPTER VIII.
Aquatic sports--Weather wisdom--An equatorial
squall--Flying-fish--A chase--The
dolphin--Capture--Porpoises--Harpooning--The bonito--Dolphin
steaks--Porpoise steaks--The albatross--Shark-fishing--A
shark-hook--Habits of sharks--Seizing its prey--Flying at the
bait--The shark captured--Killing the shark--The buffalo skin--A
narrow escape
CHAPTER IX.
A man overboard--Crossing the line--Duty of officers--Rival
Neptunes--A boy overboard--Affecting incident--A true-hearted
sailor--Bathing at sea--A well-timed action--Swimming--A
necessary acquisition--A man overboard--What should be done, and
how to do it--Effects of precipitancy--Life-buoy--Regulations
for emergencies--Managing the ship with a man
overboard--Stationing the crew--Directing the boats
CHAPTER X.
Sunday on board a man-of-war--Mustering by divisions--The fourth
commandment--Short services recommended--Order for
rigging--Scrubbing and sweeping--Sunday muster--Jack's
dandyism--Jack brought up with a round turn--Mustering at
divisions--Inspection--The marines--Round the decks--The
sick-bay--Lower deck--Below--Cockpit--The gun-room--Quarter deck
CHAPTER XI.
The ship church--Rigging the church--Short services
recommended--Short sermons recommended--Religious duties
necessary to discipline--Church service interrupted--The day of
rest
CHAPTER XII.
Naval ratings and sea pay--Mustering clothes--Between decks on
Sunday--Piping to supper--Mustering by lists--A seaman disrated
and rerated--Ratings of seamen--Tendency to do right--Examining
stores--Captain's duties--Clothes' muster--Responsibility--A
sailor's kit--A sailor's habits--Mizen-top
dandies--Hammocks--Piping the bags down--Pressing emigrants--A
Scotchman's kit--Improved clothes' muster
CHAPTER XIII.
Sailors' pets--Purchasing a monkey--Jacko's attractions--Gets
monkey's allowance--Jacko and the marines--Jacko's
revenge--Jacko turns on his friend--Spills the grog--Is
pursued, but is pardoned--Condemned to die--Commuted to
teeth-drawing--Surgeon's assistant appealed to--He can't
bite--The travelled monkey--Trick on the marines--Its
consequences--A potent dose--Its operations--Jack's
superstitions--The grunter pet--Jean's advocate--Her good
qualities--Jean's obesity, and its attractions--Her death and
burial--Well ballasted
CHAPTER XIV.
Doubling the Cape--Southern constellations--Intelligent chief
officer--Sailors and their friends--Parting company--The
cape--Simon's town--A fresh breeze--Rising to a gale--All hands
shorten sail--Value of experience to an officer--Taking in
reefs--Taking in mainsail--Heaving the log--Before the
gale--Effects of a gale--Value of a chronometer proved by the
want of one--Awful catastrophe
CHAPTER XV.
Suggestions towards diminishing the number and severity of Naval
punishments--Corporal punishment--The author's own case--An old
shipmate--Admiralty regulations--Appeal to officers to avoid
precipitation--Dangers of precipitation--Instance of its
dangers--A considerate captain--A case for pardon--An obdurate
officer--Pardon granted--Retrieving of character
CHAPTER XVI.
Bombay--First glimpse of India--Bombay and its scenery
CHAPTER XVII.
Sir Samuel Hood--Naval promotion--Hopes and their
disappointment--An ant-hunt--The Admiral's triumph over the
engineers
CHAPTER XVIII.
Excursion to Candelay lake in Ceylon--Starting of the
expedition--Pearl-divers--A strange tunnel--Hindoo bathing--An
amusing exhibition--A tropical forest--A night scene--An
alarm--A supper--A midnight burial--Cingalese game--Lake
Candelay and its embankment
CHAPTER XIX.
Griffins in India--Sinbad's valley of diamonds--A
mosquito-hunt--Deep anchorage--Local names--Valley of
diamonds--Ceylon gems
CHAPTER XX.
Ceylonese canoes--Peruvian balsas--The floating windlass of the
Coromandel fishermen--American pilot-boats--Balsas of
Peru--Man-of-war boats--Ceylonese canoes--Canoe mast and
sails--Local contrivances--Construction of the balsa--Management
of the sail--Indian method of weighing anchor--A floating
windlass--Failure of the attempt--The Admiral's remarks--An
interesting feat of mechanical ingenuity
CHAPTER XXI.
The surf at Madras--Sound of the waves--Masullah
boats--Construction of the boats--Crossing the surf--Steering
the boat--How a capsize in the surf occurs--Catamarans of the
surf--Perseverance of the messenger
CHAPTER XXII.
Visit to the Sultan of Pontiana, in Borneo--Sir Samuel
Hood--Borneo--A floating grove--Pontiana--Chinese in Borneo--The
sultan and his audience room--Interior of the palace--The
autograph--Anecdote of Sir S. Hood--Getting out of the trap--Sir
S. Hood at the Nile--The Zealous and Goliath--Captain Walcott's
disinterestedness--Sir S. Hood's kindness
CHAPTER XXIII.
Commissioning a ship--Receiving-hulk--Marines and
gunners--Choice of sailors--The ship's company--Choice of
officers--Stowing the ballast--Importance of
obedience--Complement of men in ships of war--Shipping the
crews--A Christmas feast afloat--A Christmas feast in Canton
River--Self-devotion
CHAPTER XXIV.
Fitting out--Progress of rigging--The figure-head--Progressive
rigging--The boats--Fitting out--Stowage of ships'
stores--System requisite--Painting the ship--Policy of a good
chief--Anecdote of Lord Nelson--Scrubbing the hulk--Leaving the
harbour--Sailing
CHAPTER I.
TAKING A LINE IN THE SERVICE.
That there is a tide in the affairs of men, has very naturally become
a figure of frequent and almost hackneyed use in the cockpits,
gun-rooms, and even the captains' cabins of our ships and vessels of
war. Like its numerous brethren of common-places, it will be found,
perhaps, but of small application to the real business of life; though
it answers capitally to wind up a regular grumble at the unexpected
success of some junior messmate possessed of higher interest or
abilities, and helps to contrast the growler's own hard fate with the
good luck of those about him. Still, the metaphor may have its
grateful use; for certainly in the Navy, and I suppose elsewhere,
there is a period in the early stages of every man's professional life
at which it is necessary that he should, more or less decidedly, "take
his line," in order best to profit by the tide when the flood begins
to make. It is difficult to say exactly at what stage of a young
officer's career the determination to adopt any one of the numerous
lines before him should be taken: but there can be little doubt as to
the utility of that determination being made early in life. In most
cases, it is clearly beyond the reach of artificial systems of
discipline, to place, on a pair of young shoulders, the reflecting
head-piece of age and experience; neither, perhaps, would such an
incongruity be desirable. But it seems quite within the compass of a
conscientious and diligent commanding officer's power by every means
to cultivate the taste, and strengthen the principles and the
understanding of the persons committed to his charge. His endeavour
should be, to train their thoughts in such a manner that, when the
time for independent reflection and action arrives, their judgment and
feelings may be ready to carry them forward in the right path; to
teach them the habit, for instance, of discovering that, in practice,
there is a positive, and generally a speedy pleasure and reward
attendant on almost every exercise of self-denial. When that point is
once firmly established in the minds of young men, it becomes less
difficult to persuade them to relinquish whatever is merely agreeable
at the moment, if it stand in the way of the sterner claims of duty.
Although the period must vary a good deal, I should be disposed to
say, that, in general, a year or two after an officer is promoted to
the rank of lieutenant, may be about the time when he ought fairly and
finally to brace himself up to follow a particular line, and resolve,
ever afterwards, manfully to persevere in it. His abilities being
concentrated on some definite set of objects; his friends, both on
shore and afloat, will be furnished with some tangible means of
judging of his capacity. Without such knowledge, their patronage is
likely to do themselves no credit, and their _protege_ very little, if
any, real service.
Some young fellows set out in their professional life by making
themselves thorough-bred sailors; their hands are familiar with the
tar-bucket; their fingers are cut across with the marks of the ropes
they have been pulling and hauling; and their whole soul is wrapped up
in the intricate science of cutting out sails, and of rigging masts
and yards. Their dreams are of cringles and reef-tackles, of knots,
splices, grummets, and dead-eyes. They can tell the length, to a
fathom, of every rope in the boatswain's warrant, from the flying jib
down-haul to the spanker-sheet; and the height of every spar, from the
main-top-gallant truck to the heel of the lower mast. Their delight
is in stowing the hold; dragging about kentlage is their joy; they are
the very souls of the ship's company. In harbour they are eternally
paddling in the boats, rowing, or sculling, or sailing about; they are
always the first in fishing or bathing parties; in short, they are for
ever at some sailor-kind of work. At sea, their darling music is the
loud whistle of the hardest storm-stay-sail breeze, with an occasional
accompaniment of a split main-topsail. "The harder it blows, and the
faster she goes," the merrier are they; "strong gales and squally" is
the item they love best to chalk on the log-board; and even when the
oldest top-men begin to hesitate about lying out on the yard to gather
in the flapping remnants of the torn canvas, these gallant youngsters
glory in the opportunity of setting an example of what a gentleman
sailor can perform. So at it they go, utterly reckless of
consequences; and by sliding down the lift, or scrambling out, monkey
fashion, to the yard-arm, where they sit laughing, though the spar be
more than half sprung through, they accomplish their purpose of
shaming the others into greater exertions. It is well known that one
of the ablest, if not the very ablest, of the distinguished men whom
the penetrating sagacity of Nelson discovered and brought forward,
owed his first introduction to the notice of that wonderful commander
by an exploit of this very description.
These are the dashing boys who cut out privateers, jump overboard
after men who cannot swim, and who, when the ship is on fire, care not
a farthing for the smoke and heat, but dive below with the engine-pipe
in their hands, and either do good service, or perish in the flames
with a jolly huzza on their lips. Such may fairly be called the
muscular parts of our body nautical, for there is no gummy flesh about
them; and when handled with skill, they form the stout instruments
which help essentially to win such battles as the Nile and Trafalgar.
The young persons I have just been describing are, however, by no
means servile imitators of the sailors; they possess much useful
technical knowledge, as well as mere energy of character; and often
both think and act with originality; yet they are docile to the last
degree, and delight in nothing more than fulfilling, to the very
letter, the orders of their superiors. They may amuse themselves, as
youngsters, by affecting the gait, the dress, and the lingo of the
man before the mast; and are at times supposed to be a little too
familiar with these models, on whom they pretend to shape their
manners; but still they never carry the joke so far as to become what
is called "Jack and Tom," even with the leading men in the ship. They
can sing, upon occasion, snatches of forecastle ditties, or fling off
a hornpipe worthy of the merriest cracked fiddle that ever sounded
under the bow of a drunken musician amongst a company, half-seas over,
at the back of Point Beach. Not content with
"Their long-quartered shoes, check shirt, and blue jacket,"
they will even thrust a quid into their cheek, merely to gain the
credit, such as it is, of "chewing backy like a sailor."
But there must be a limit to the indulgence of these fancies; and if
even an elder midshipman or mate of the decks were permanently to
distinguish himself after this masquerade fashion, he would speedily
lose caste even with the crew. When a mid, for example, is promoted to
lieutenant, he must speedily decide whether he shall follow up in
earnest a course of strictly seaman-like objects, of which the mere
outward show had previously captivated his young fancy; or he must
enter into some compromise with himself, and relinquish a part of his
exclusive regard for these pursuits, in consideration of others less
fascinating, to be sure, but more likely to bear on his advancement;
for, without some knowledge of many other things, his chance must be
very small in the race of professional life.
In tolerably wide opposition of habits to these tarpaulin men follow
the less dashing and showy race sometimes called "star-gazers,"
sometimes "dictionary-men," who are also occasionally taunted or
dignified by their messmates with the title of "philosophers." The
object of most of these young philosophisers is to get at the reason
of all things, and to be able not only to work by the rules laid down
for them in printed books, or in the written orders of their
superiors; but to investigate the foundation of these rules and
regulations so thoroughly, that when new cases occur, they may have it
in their power to meet them by fresh resources of their own: according
in spirit, with those which experience has shown to be conducive to
the happiness of the crew and the efficiency of the service. Out of
the class of officers now alluded to, the growth of which it has been
the wise policy of late years to encourage, there have sprung up the
numberless voyagers, surveyors, and other strictly nautical men, who
are always to be found when the public service requires a practical
question to be settled, or a professional office of responsibility and
trust to be filled up. If the arctic circle is to be investigated by
sea or by land, or the deserts of Africa traversed, or the world
circumnavigated afresh, under the guidance of the modern improvements
in navigation, the government at once calls upon such men as Parry,
Franklin, Clapperton, Beechey,[1] to whom they can safely entrust the
task.
From the same class, also, a valuable race of naval statesmen have
been drawn. For a considerable number of years, the whole of the
diplomatic duties of South America, as far as concerned the interests
of England, were carried on by the naval commanders-in-chief. Who can
forget how important a share of Lord Nelson's command, or, after him,
of Lord Collingwood's in the Mediterranean, consisted of duties of a
purely civil description? And it may be questioned if diplomatic
history offers a more masterly specimen of address and statesman-like
decision, as well as forethought, than was displayed by Captain
Maitland, in securing the person of Buonaparte, not only without
committing himself or his government, but without wounding the
feelings of the fallen emperor. The case was, and ever must remain,
unique; and yet the most deliberate reflection, even after the event,
has not suggested anything to wish changed. Fortunate, indeed, was it
for the reputation of this country that the delicate task fell to the
lot of an officer possessed of such inherent vigour of character, and
one so familiar with the practical exercise of his own resources, that
difficulties which might have staggered ordinary minds vanished before
his.
In so extensive a service as the Navy, accident might perhaps
occasionally produce such men as have been named above; but it is very
material to observe, that unless there existed, as a permanent body, a
large class in the Navy, who follow the pursuits alluded to from taste
as well as from motives of public spirit, and from whose ranks
selections can be made with confidence at moments of need, such
opportunities as those above alluded to might often be allowed to pass
unprofitably. It is, moreover, important to recollect, that it is in
these matters as in everything else where there is a great demand, and
consequently a great supply, there will from time to time start up a
master spirit, such as that of my lamented friend, the late Captain
Henry Foster, to claim, even in the very outset of his career, the
cheerful homage of all the rest. So far from the profession envying
his early success, or being disturbed at his pre-eminent renown, they
felt that his well-earned honours only shed lustre on themselves.
It is also very pleasing to observe the reciprocal feeling which
belongs on such occasions to all rightly constituted minds. When
Captain Foster, in 1828, then only lieutenant, received the Copley
medal, the highest scientific honour in the gift of the Royal Society,
it never occurred to him merely to hang it at his breast in solitary
dignity, or to chuckle presumptuously at his own particular good
fortune. So far from this, he thought only of the service; and
proceeding straight to the Admiralty, he showed the medal, and
declared modestly, but firmly, to their lordships, that he considered
the honour only nominally bestowed upon himself, but essentially
conferred upon the naval profession at large. This generous and manly
appeal could not fail to make its due impression; and within the same
hour, his commission, as commander, was signed, his appointment to a
ship ordered, and a voyage of scientific research carved out for him.
But I need not add how bitter a grief it is to those who were
personally acquainted with this rising young officer, to think that so
much knowledge--such useful talents--such unmatched zeal and
industry--and such true love for science--all so fertile in promises
of future service and renown--should have been lamentably quenched in
a moment.
Besides the regular-built sailors, and the saltwater statesmen and
philosophers, there is yet another set which greatly outnumbers both,
and which, if comparisons must be made, equals, if it does not far
exceed them in utility. I allude to that large and very important body
of strictly professional persons who are not remarkable for anything
in particular, unless it be for a hearty and uncompromising devotion
to the service. Captains, it is to be feared, are generally too apt to
consider these meritorious persons as less entitled to attention than
their more showy companions; just as schoolmasters are, not
unnaturally, disposed to devote most of their time to the cleverest
boys, to the comparative neglect of those who cluster round the point
of mediocrity. It may, however, be easily conceived that the persons
least attended to, afloat as well as on shore, often stand more in
need of notice and assistance than their gifted brethren, who are
better able to make their own consequence felt and acknowledged; for
it must not be forgotten that these honest, hard-working men actually
perform the greater part of all the routine drudgery of the service,
and perhaps execute it better than men of higher talents could do in
their place.
The class amongst us who devote themselves to sober literary pursuits
is necessarily very small; but that of the happy youths, who dream the
gods have made them poetical, has many members, who "rave, recite, and
madden round the ship," to their own (exclusive) satisfaction. Others
there are who deal desperately in the fine arts of painting and
music,--that is, who draw out of perspective, and play out of tune:
not that the ability to sketch the scenes and phenomena continually
passing before them is objectionable; I allude here to the pretenders
to art. Their poor messmates can have little respect for these
pretending Rembrandts and Paganinis; and the happiness of the mess
would be considerably improved if authority were given to pitch every
such sketch-book and every flute out at the stern-port.
Finally come the raking, good-looking, shore-going, company-hunting,
gallivanting, riff-raff set of reckless youths, who, having got rid of
the entanglement of parents and guardians, and having no great
restraint of principle or anything else to check them, seem to hold
that his Majesty's service is merely a convenience for their especial
use, and his Majesty's ships a sort of packet-boats to carry their
elegant persons from port to port, in search of fresh conquests, and,
as they suppose, fresh laurels to their country.
Few men do anything well which they do not like; for the same reason,
if an officer be capable of performing services really valuable, his
success must arise from turning his chief attention to those branches
of the profession which he feels are the most congenial to his
peculiar tastes, and which experience has shown lie within the range
of his capacity. Some officers deliberately act upon this, while the
greater number, as may be supposed, adopt their line unconsciously.
Still, it is the bounden duty of every well-wisher to the service to
use the influence he possesses to lead the young persons about him to
follow the true bent of their genius, and to select as a principal
object of study the particular branch of the profession in which they
are most likely to benefit themselves permanently.
I well remember, in my own case, the day, and almost the very hour,
when these convictions flashed upon my mind. I then saw, for the first
time, that unless I speedily roused myself, and "took my line"
vigorously, the proper occasion might swiftly pass away. I was quite
astonished how, up to that moment, I had seen so little of what now
appeared so very palpable; every other consideration was instantly
dismissed, and all minor vanities being shaken off like dew-drops to
the air, I set resolutely about the attainment of my promotion, the
grand object of every officer's ambition. But before describing how
this important affair was put in train, I shall attempt a sketch of
the kind of life I was leading about this period. In looking back to
those days, and glancing the mind's eye along the intermediate years,
I sometimes ask myself whether or not I should act very differently if
permitted to make the voyage over again, under the guidance of
experience bought by the practice of life. The retrospect, of course,
offers some unavailing regrets; but still I can hardly believe that
the result would, on the whole, have proved materially happier for
myself.
Such being the case, I trust there is no unpardonable egotism in
mentioning, in a work intended for young people, that one of my chief
motives for bringing these Fragments of my life and adventures before
them, is the hope of imparting to others, similarly circumstanced, a
portion of that spirit of cheerfulness, and that resolute
determination to make the most of things, which, after thirty years of
activity and enjoyment in foreign climes, have landed me in perfect
contentment at home.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] All gone since our author wrote. Now it looks for Osbornes,
Maclures, and other names as trustworthy.
CHAPTER II.
A SAILOR ON SHORE.
It is a far easier thing to get into a house in Ireland than to get
out of it again; for there is an attractive and retentive witchery
about the hospitality of the natives of that country, which has no
match, as far as I have seen, in the wide world. In other places the
people are hospitable or kind to a stranger; but in Ireland the affair
is reduced to a sort of science, and a web of attentions is flung
round the visitor before he well knows where he is: so that if he be
not a very cold-blooded or a very temperate man, it will cost him
sundry headaches--and mayhap some touches of the heartache--before he
wins his way back again to his wonted tranquillity.
I had not a single acquaintance in Ireland when first I visited that
most interesting of countries: before leaving it, however, after about
a year and a-half's cruising off and on their coasts, I was on pretty
intimate terms with one family at least for every dozen miles, from
Downpatrick on the east, to the Bloody Foreland on the west, a range
of more than a hundred and twenty miles.
The way in which this was brought about is sufficiently
characteristic of the country. I had inherited a taste for geology;
and as the north of Ireland affords a fine field for the exercise of
the hammer, I soon made myself acquainted with the Giant's Causeway,
and the other wonders of that singular district. While engaged in
these pursuits, I fell in with an eminent medical practitioner
resident in that part of the country, a gentleman well known to the
scientific world: he was still better known on the spot as the most
benevolent and kindest of men. In no part of the globe have I made a
more agreeable or useful acquaintance. During a residence of a week
under the roof of this delightful person, he frequently urged me to
make acquaintance with some friends of his, living also in the north
of Ireland, but at the opposite angle. He was, in particular, desirous
that I should see a family with whom he described himself as being
very intimate, and who were then on a visit far in the west.
Influenced by the extreme earnestness of my worthy friend, who,
indeed, would hardly let me stir from his house until I had promised
to deliver, with my own hands, a letter of introduction to a lady
alluded to, who, he assured me, would introduce me to the family with
whom she was then living as a guest. I thought it rather an odd
arrangement that a mere guest should introduce a stranger to another
person's house: but I had already seen enough of the hearty
hospitality of Ireland not to wonder at anything having a kind purpose
in view. I therefore promised that, if at any time I could obtain
leave of absence for a few days, the introductory letter should be
delivered.
I did not discover, until long afterwards, the secret motive of my
friend's anxiety that I should pay the visit in question, though, at
the time alluded to, I was quite coxcomb enough to suppose that it all
arose from personal consideration. It mattered little to me, however,
to what the kindness was due; and, my leave having expired, I set off
to the Endymion, of which I was then second lieutenant, with a firm
resolution to avail myself of the first opportunity of visiting the
persons to whom my excellent friend the doctor had given me an
introduction. I had been so frequently absent before, that I expected
to be fixed on board for a long time to come, and was therefore
agreeably disappointed to discover that my brother-officers had formed
so many pleasant acquaintances at Burncrana, a town on the banks of
the magnificent Lough Swilly, that they were quite willing to remain
on the spot, and to take upon their shoulders the extra duty which my
renewed absence imposed upon them. I had only, therefore, to obtain
the captain's permission for a fresh run. This was easily gained, for
he was the most indulgent of mortals; and his only caution was, "Now,
mind, don't you be falling in love with any of these Irish girls. It
will be quite time enough for that when you are a post captain."
I promised to attend to his advice, and set out in the highest glee,
wishing for no better sport than to try the firmness of my resolutions
on this head, though, it must be confessed, I was fully more inclined
to follow the precept enjoined upon me by another friend, who, by way
of improving the captain's instruction, said,--
"Do take care what you are about when you mix with those fair and
fascinating witches, and never hold yourself as heart-safe, unless you
are in love with at least two of them at once!"
Off I went; but it matters not whether the course steered was to the
east or to the west after leaving Londonderry: a letter of
introduction in my pocket naturally determined my route; and, having
hired a good stout horse, I strapped my valise behind, and set out on
a fine summer's evening in quest of adventures. Yet I was in no
respect prepared to find myself so soon in what appeared very like a
field of battle. I had not proceeded twenty miles before I came to a
village surrounded by troops, and guarded at the ends of its few
streets by loaded cannon, with lighted matches smoking by their sides.
A considerable encampment was formed on a slightly rising eminence
near the village; and on the neighbouring ground, still farther off,
might be seen large irregular groups of people, who, I learned, upon
inquiry, were chiefly Orangemen, preparing for a grand ceremonial
procession on this the 12th of July, the well-known anniversary of the
battle of the Boyne. In order to resist this proceeding on the part of
the Protestants, an immense multitude on the Roman Catholic side of
the question were likewise assembled, and all the roads converging
towards that quarter were lined with parties of men carrying sticks in
their hands, flocking to the expected scene of action. The military
had been called in to keep the peace, but the angry passions of the
respective factions were so much roused, that even the precautions
above described seemed hardly sufficient to prevent the threatened
conflict.
As a matter of curiosity, I could have no great objection to seeing
another such battle as the one I had witnessed near Corunna between
those long-established fighting-cocks, the French and English; but to
look on while honest Pat and Tim were breaking one another's heads
upon abstract political grounds, and English soldiery interposing with
grapeshot and fixed bayonets to make them friends again, was what I
had no mind for. I tried, therefore, to extricate myself forthwith
from this unhappy struggle; but my horse being tired, I was forced to
sleep in a village which, for aught I knew, might be sacked and burned
before morning; nothing occurred, however: nevertheless, I felt far
from easy till out of reach of the furious factions; the strangest
thing of all being that some quiet folks, a few miles distant, with
whom I took breakfast, seemed scarcely to mind it, although the
country round them was all on fire. From thence the course lay across
a wild range of mountains, one of them having on its top a sheet of
fresh water called Loch Salt. Nothing can be conceived more desolate
or dreary than this part of the country; and as there were few
inhabitants upon it at any time, and none at all at this moment, I had
no small difficulty in making good my way. On coming nearer to the
noble bay or lough, on the banks of which the country-seat of my
unknown friends was to be found, the aspect of things changed as if by
magic. A slight inequality in the ground concealed this "jewel in the
desert," as it was often called, till the whole of its rare beauties
could be seen to the greatest advantage. Even without the contrast of
wild moors, the singular beauties of the spot claimed the highest
admiration; but after such a preparative they appeared doubly grateful
to the senses, and I put spurs to my horse, anxious to come nearer to
such a delicious scene.
The mansion of my future friend, of which only partial glimpses could
be caught now and then, was well guarded on every side by fine old
trees, rising from the surface of carefully-dressed grounds, richly
stocked flower-gardens, long and wide avenues, and graceful terraces,
some of which reached to the very water's edge, along a delicate beach
on which the ripple scarcely broke. This charming domain occupied a
narrow spit of land, or promontory, jutting forwards into a landlocked
bay, or arm of the sea, in which the water appeared to lie always
asleep, and as smooth as if, instead of being a mere branch uniting
with the stormy Atlantic, it had been some artificial lake. Nothing,
indeed, which the most fertile imagination could suggest seemed to be
wanting.
There was one extremely well-conceived device at this delightful spot,
which I never remember to have seen anywhere else, though, there must
often occur in other places similar situations in which it might be
imitated. Not far from the house, but quite hid under a thickly-wooded
cliff, overhanging a quiet bight or cove, about ten or fifteen yards
across, lay a perfectly secluded pool, with a bottom of snow-white
sand. It was deep in the middle, but shelved gradually to its margin,
which rested on a narrow strip, or beach, of small round polished
pebbles. This fringe, encircling the cove, was surmounted by a dry
grassy bank, or natural terrace, reaching to the foot of the rock, the
face of which was not merely perpendicular, but projecting so much
that the top more than plumbed the edge of the basin. Along the
sky-line there was drawn a fence or veil of briars, honeysuckles, and
other impervious bushes, interspersed with myrtles, wild roses, and
foxgloves, so thickly woven together, that all external view of this
_beau ideal_ of a bath was rendered impossible. The only access was by
a narrow, steep, and winding path; and at the upper end was placed a
high, locked gate, the key of which was in the exclusive charge of the
ladies.
As I rode on, ignorant as yet of these and many other rich and rare
beauties of this singular spot, and only admiring the general aspect
of things, I began, for the first time, to reflect on the extreme
awkwardness of my situation.
Here was I merely the bearer of an introductory letter to a lady,
herself a guest in the house; and although it might have been
allowable enough to have called to deliver such an introduction, had
business or accident brought me to the neighbourhood, now it seemed
rather a strong measure to travel fifty or sixty miles across a wild
and disturbed country merely to pay a morning call. The inference that
my intention was to make a visit of some duration, became inevitable;
and I pictured to myself the string of explanations I had to give,
which might, after all, not be followed by any invitation to remain.
After long cogitations, I resolved to steal up to the house, if
possible, unperceived; have my horse turned over to the groom, and my
portmanteau stowed out of sight, and then to walk boldly up to the
door, with a visiting-card in one hand, and my credentials in the
other, to be delivered to the servant for the lady to whom the letter
was addressed. I next proposed to stroll about the woods, to give
time for any good things said of the bearer to work their way,
hoping, by this rather clumsy manoeuvre, that by the time I returned
to the house its inmates might be prepared to receive the stranger;
and then, if their invitation to remain should happen not to be very
pressing, I might pretend to be collecting specimens for my geological
friends, and so make my escape; though, to own the truth, nothing was
farther from my thoughts than geology.
In spite of these ingenious plans, I felt myself rather absurdly
situated, and half wished I had not engaged at all in such an
unpromising adventure. It seemed, however, too late to retreat, and
therefore I jogged on, as earnestly hoping not to be detected as ever
did any troops in advancing to the attack of a besieged fort.
What, then, was my speechless horror, on riding up the approach, to
discover a cavalcade of not fewer than a dozen ladies and gentlemen
bearing right down upon me from the house. Had it been a troop of
French cuirassiers charging across the ground, and threatening
annihilation to the unfortunate hack and his rider, I could not have
been much more astounded. The master of the house was probably of the
number; he would stop to inquire the business of the
suspicious-looking stranger invading his territories. The person for
whom I brought a letter, being an elderly lady, was not likely to be
on horseback amidst a party of young folks. There would be a general
halt ordered; while the poor new-comer, with his draggled horse and
swollen valise indicative of anything but a hasty departure, would
become the subject of a pleasant criticism to the quizzical dandies
and young ladies of the party. Even when this scrutiny was over, what
were they to do with their unexpected, self-elected companion? His
horse was now too tired, and much too ugly at any time to accompany
such gay palfreys as were prancing over the lawn; yet they could not,
in common civility, leave a stranger adrift; nor could they accompany
him back to the house, without breaking up their expedition for the
day.
All this flashed through my mind in a moment, and left me in a dire
dilemma. I pulled up my jaded nag, however, with such a jerk, that I
well-nigh threw him on his haunches. Fortunately, a little unevenness
in the ground hid me from the view of the advancing cavalry; and at
the same critical instant I discovered an opening in the fence on one
side. Without considering or caring whither it might lead, I turned my
charger round, urged him forwards with whip and spur, and dashed into
the gap as if I had been flying from the arm of justice, instead of
making my escape from as companionable a set of people as ever
breathed. Had any of the party detected the bashful fugitive, and
given chase, he must have been caught; for the path into which I had
fled terminated in a road leading to some farm offices, but with no
opening beyond.
The awkwardness of my situation, which was already considerable,
became greatly augmented by this ridiculous proceeding; and I heard
the riders pass within twenty yards of my hiding-place, with the most
unspeakable alarm lest any one of them should catch a glimpse of me
nestling behind a cart of hay. I breathed freer when the last
servant's horse crossed the ridge; and then, creeping from my hole,
soon gained the stables adjoining the house, gave up my horse,
secured the well-stuffed valise out of sight, and repaired, according
to the original precious scheme, to the front door with my letter. I
stood for five minutes with the knob of the bell in my hand,
irresolute whether to go on with the adventure, or fairly to cut and
run from it. At length, when the fatal pull was given, I listened to
the sound, and felt myself what statesmen call "fully committed."
There was now nothing left but to screw up my courage, as I best
might, to meet the dangers and difficulties of the crisis.
There happened to be no one at home except the old lady, to whom my
introduction was addressed, so that the plan succeeded very well; I
forget now the details of the introduction, but I can never cease to
remember the unbounded cordiality of the reception, not only from this
excellent person, but from the master and mistress of the house, and
all their assembled friends, showing how totally I had miscalculated
the nature and extent of Irish hospitality. There were several elderly
persons, then in the autumn of life, and several were very young
folks, scarcely able to walk, who now count many "daughters and sons
of beauty." There was a pretty equal admixture of Irish and English,
amongst them several persons of rank; also one or two foreigners;
besides much native wit, worth, and beauty, of the highest order, and
all most delightfully set off by the graces and nameless enchantments
of refined manners, and tasteful as well as useful accomplishments. I
have rarely, if ever, seen in any part of the world so fascinating an
assemblage of all that would render a country party agreeable as was
here collected in one of the most out-of-the-way corners of Ireland.
My worthy captain's advice was now thrown to the winds; and indeed any
heart, aged twenty-two, must have been made of cast-iron to have
resisted the rides and walks, the picnic dinners, the dances, and the
music parties, and suppers, besides the infinitely varied round of
other amusements, grave and gay, which contributed to render, and will
for ever preserve, this nook of Ireland the true terrestrial paradise
of my early days.
How the deuce I ever contrived to get out of the magic circle, I
hardly know; but if I could only feel myself at liberty, without a
breach of confidence, to give a few details of those hours, I would
stake great odds on the side of the effect which the description of
such a reality might produce, against the interest of the imaginary
scenes in almost any romance.
I have already mentioned that the gentleman whose introduction I
carried was most urgent for me to deliver the letter in person; but he
gave no reasons for this anxiety; nor indeed was I then aware, that,
besides his being an intimate friend, he was their family physician.
While acting in this capacity, he had seen with regret how ineffectual
his art had proved to alleviate the mother's sorrow caused by the
recent loss of her favourite son. The young man had been in the Navy,
and would have been about my own age and standing in the service.
These accidental coincidences suggested to her judicious and
kind-hearted friend, that as I, in some degree, resembled him in
appearance and in manners, the poor mother's thoughts and feelings
might possibly be diverted into a new channel, by the society of a
person in so many respects similarly circumstanced to the child she
had lost.
It so happened, fortunately for me, that the experiment completely
succeeded--I hope and believe, to the mother's consolation. To me, of
course, the reception I met with was matter of delight and
astonishment; so much so, indeed, that I occasionally felt somewhat
startled, and almost oppressed, with the sense of obligation imposed
by such unusual and unmerited attentions.
The first explanation of the mystery is really so touching in itself,
that I give it without reserve as I received it in a letter from this
most excellent old lady, about six months after my first acquaintance
with her, and just before I quitted England for the East Indies:--
"Once more adieu!" She concludes, "I must hope you will write to me
often; let me constantly know how you proceed, and how I can address
you; and recollect, you have received the freedom of this house. I
believe I told you I had lost a son, a lieutenant in the Navy, and of
superior talents. I therefore consider that Heaven has given you to my
care in his place--and may the Almighty protect you!"
CHAPTER III.
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS.
A curious and vastly pleasing fashion prevails in that part of Ireland
where I was so nearly bewitched as almost to forget my ship, my
duties, and everything else, but beauty! When a party, such as I have
been describing, had passed a certain time together, they seldom broke
up entirely, but generally shifted, or emigrated in a body (flitted, I
think they used to call it) to the house of some one of their number.
Now and then various members of the group dropped off by the way, but
their places were presently filled up by others, who soon found their
way to the new hive when the well-known sounds of festivity were heard
in the neighbourhood.
In this manner the party, into which I had been so kindly admitted,
made several moves, with sundry losses and accessions to its numbers;
and as every day rendered this life more and more grateful, I could
scarcely bear to think of returning to the tame occupations and rugged
society of the frigate, the duties of which had so recently been my
greatest and most sincere delight. Meanwhile, since my good-natured
captain, and still better-natured messmates, made no difficulties
about this protracted absenteeism, I continued to involve myself
deeper and deeper at every step. I failed not to perceive at times
that I was getting into rather a dangerous scrape for a younger son
and a young officer, who had yet to work his own way in the world. But
as these reflections interfered rather impertinently with the
enjoyments of the hour, they were crushed down, and kept out of sight
as much as possible at that gay period.
What surprised me most, all this time, was the air of refinement and
high polish in the Irish society amongst which I was thus casually
thrown. I had previously entertained an idea that their hospitality,
proverbial in all parts of the world, was of a rude and rather
troublesome description. I found it, on the contrary, marked not only
by the strongest lines of sincerity and kindness, but by many of those
delicate touches of consideration for the feelings of others which
form the most indubitable symptoms of genuine good-breeding.
Instead of discovering that the stories were true about the sort of
compulsion used in matters of drinking, I can safely say that, during
the course of experience in joviality I went through in the north of
Ireland, I seldom met with anything at a gentleman's table approaching
even to exigence on this score. I do not deny that our friends the
Irish have a wonderfully winning way of insinuating their good cheer
upon us, and sometimes of inducing us to swallow more claret than is
perhaps good for us.
I landed once at Burncrana, a pretty quiet little village, with a
watering-place look, on the eastern banks of that great and beautiful
bay Lough Swilly. One side of this fine harbour is formed by the bold
promontory of Inishowen, celebrated in every land for its noble
whiskey, second only (which, as a Scotchman, I am bound to assert) to
Ferntosh or Glenlivet. I was accompanied by an English gentleman, on
the first day of his landing in Ireland. As he then seriously imagined
the inhabitants to belong to a sort of wild and uncouth race, I could
see he was rather surprised at the gentleman-like deportment of an
acquaintance of mine resident on the spot, for whom he had brought a
letter. We had walked together to his house, or rather cottage, for he
was not a fixed resident, but came there for summer quarters. The
neatness, and even elegance, of the domestic arrangements of his
temporary establishment, both without and within the dwelling, gave
token of a taste many degrees removed from the state of people far
back in civilization. Presently the ladies came; and their national
frankness, modified by the most entire and unaffected simplicity,
puzzled my friend completely. In due season the dressing-bell sent us
off to prepare for dinner; and while we were getting ready, my
companion said, "I see what this fellow is at: he means to sew you and
me up. You may do as you please; but I'll be shot if he plays off his
Irish pranks on me. I will eat his dinner, take a couple of glasses of
his wine, make my bow to the ladies, go on board by eight or nine
o'clock, and, having given them a dinner in return, shall have done my
duty in the way of attention; after which I shall totally cut the
connection. I have no idea of their abominable fashion of forcing
strangers to drink."
"We shall see," said I; and having knocked the dust off our shoes,
down we went to dinner.
Everything was plain, and suitable to the pretensions of a cottage.
There was no pressing to eat or drink during dinner; and in process of
time the cloth was removed, the Ladies sipped a little sweet wine, and
disappeared.
"Now for it," whispered my friend; "he has sent the women out of the
way, that he may ply us the better."
And I must own things looked rather suspicious; for our host, instead
of sitting down again at the dinner-table, walked to a bow-window
overlooking the anchorage, and exactly facing the setting sun, at that
hour illuminating the whole landscape in the gorgeous style peculiar
to combined mountain and lake scenery. "Why should we not enjoy this
pleasant prospect while we are discussing our wine?" said the master
of the house. At that instant the door opened, and in walked the
servant, as if he knew by intuition what was passing in his master's
head.
"Tim," said our host, "put the card-table here in the bow-window, and
give us some other glasses; also, if you have such a thing, bring up a
bottle of claret."
Tim nodded, smiled, and made the fitting adjustments. The table was
barely large enough to hold a noble long-corked bottle, for the
fashion of claret decanters had not as yet reached that remote
district of the empire. Round the margin was placed the necessary
accompaniment of capacious glasses--famous tall fellows, with such
slender stalks that they seemed scarcely equal to the weight of their
generous load.
My friend and I exchanged glances, and I could see his shoulders
slightly raised, as if he was saying internally, "Now we are in for
it! but I will not drink a drop more than I choose." The claret, which
in itself was most delicious, was cooled in perfect style. The party
consisted, I think, of four or five persons, and this one bottle, I
remember, just passed round the group twice. As the flavour of the
beverage appeared to have become more exquisite at the second turn
than at the first, though but a short interval had been allowed to
elapse, it seemed odd that another bottle was not instantly called
for. Instead of this our landlord went on expatiating on the beauties
of the Lough, and the fineness of the season in general, and the
sunset in particular, for full five minutes after the wine had
disappeared; when he suddenly said, with a half-hesitating tone,
towards my English friend, who sat at his elbow----
"I beg your pardon! perhaps you would take some more wine?"
As no one made any objection, the bell was rung, and Tim re-appeared,
bearing with him another bottle. This likewise vanished in a trice,
and Tim was again summoned. "Bring some more claret," said the master
to the man, or rather boy, as he was called, though twice as old as
any of the party.
At this instant I caught my companion's eye; and I could see he was
becoming alive to the plot against him, so much so, indeed, that he
seemed to be preparing to rise. The following conversation, however,
attracted his attention, and fixed him to his seat. "Well, Tim, what
are you gaping at? Why don't you run for the clar't?"
"I didn't know," replied the other, "whether you'd like to use the
whole of it."
"Use the whole of it!" exclaimed his master--"what does the boy mean?
Why, Tim, what are you at?"
"Oh, sir," quoth the well-instructed rogue, "as the wine you brought
was but little, I thought you might not wish to use it all entirely
to-day." And then he whispered something in his master's ear, the words
of which we could not distinguish. The reply, however, showed, or
seemed to show, what had been said. "Nonsense, Tim, nonsense! you're
an ass, man; bring it up."
Tim accordingly disappeared, but soon returned with a basket
apparently full of straw; at the bottom of which, however, after some
considerable show of hunting, a couple of bottles were said to be
found. "Confound you, Tim, is this all?" said the host.
"It is, sir," lied Tim; "and in faith, sir," added he, still lying,
"it's one more bottle than I thought; for there was but a dozen when
we started from Derry a week ago; and you know, sir, you and the
collector on last Tuesday"
But the catalogue of circumstances which were intended to act as
buttresses to Master Tim's inventions was cut short by a peremptory
order to leave the room. This he did so soon as he had made a
circumbendibus to escape notice, and deposited the basket behind his
master's chair, muttering, as he put it down with a thump, "There's a
couple of bottles of as good wine as ever was uncorked."
The fresh broach was indeed so delicious that we could hardly believe
it was of the same vintage as that of the previous bin, though our
host assured us it was "the identical." Tim's basket well merited a
higher eulogium than he had given it; but while his reputation as a
judge of wine rose, his character for veracity fell in about the same
proportion, since we beheld, in due season, not merely two, but three,
and at last a fourth long-necked gentleman from Bordeaux emerge from
under the straw!
The trick played upon us by these confederates was now apparent
enough; but the wine, fortunately, was of that light and pure kind
which does not produce much effect on strong heads, and that of my
companion was proof against far greater trials than this. He was
indeed perfectly aware of what was passing; and though dearly loving
the wine, which was superior to any he had ever before tasted, yet he
had no notion of being made tipsy by means of a common-place concert
between host and butler. He therefore rose to leave the room,
expecting, of course, to be forcibly detained, or, at all events,
being begged and entreated to sit down again. Not a whit! The wily
native merely observed to him that "if he had a mind to admire the
prospect, there was still daylight enough to command a view down the
bay from the little knoll on the right." The Englishman was sorely
puzzled by all this. There was none of the detention he expected would
be practised upon him, and yet he had a strong consciousness that he
was undergoing the operation well known afloat and ashore by the title
of "the game of humbug." At the same time, he felt the most eager
desire to take another good pull at the claret.
There was no wine before us at this critical juncture of the evening,
and our landlord, who, most unaccountably, seemed indifferent to this
material circumstance, went on prosing for a quarter-of-an-hour about
Protestant ascendancy, the eternal siege of Derry, the battle of the
Boyne, and such like stale topics. At length one of the company became
somewhat impatient, and, watching for a pause, asked his host if it
were the custom in Ireland to discuss Orange politics with empty
glasses?
"God bless me," cried the other, with well-feigned surprise, "is there
no wine on the table?" and ringing the bell furiously, scolded poor
Tim so naturally that the confederate was almost thrown out. "Well!
you numskull, why don't you make off with you, and bring something for
the gentlemen to drink?" Tim stood fast till interrogated a second
time, and then replied with perfect gravity that "there wasn't another
drop of wine in the house." Upon this the master got up in a rage, and
brushing past the servant, declared his intention of searching the
cellar himself. He was absent some time, and we had just prevailed on
our hesitating companion to sit down again, when, as if there had been
some electrical communication between his chair and the handle of the
door, it opened, and in walked our generous entertainer, exulting in
his success, crowing like chanticleer, and bearing in each hand a
couple of bottles, clicking against each other; while Tim, with a
degree of impudence equalled only by that of his master, substituted
clean glasses, of a still more capacious swallow than the first. To
these were added two pair of candles which towered high above the
jolly crew, and promised to last till another dawn should look in upon
our revels. By this time the twilight had almost entirely ebbed away,
and was succeeded by that cheerful, aurora-kind of brilliancy in the
sky, which points out the place of the sun during the whole of his
summer night's journey in those high latitudes. Politics dropped, for
the joyous juice of the grape soon melted us all into one mind; and a
hundred topics of more pleasing interest were started, in which the
strangers could join without fear of any angry discussion. The mirth
and animation of the company rose very pleasantly as each fresh bottle
found its way by some magical process to the table. But it became
rather difficult to tell who were the listeners amongst us, or to say
who was guest and who landlord, for the party seemed like a circle of
brothers, all equally at home.
This went on for an indefinite length of time, but I should be the
veriest conjuror on earth to say how long. Through the hazy atmosphere
of my recollection of that jolly evening, I remember that about eleven
o'clock, more or less, our host was enchanted almost beyond the power
of words by seeing his wine so much relished, and tickled also with
the success of his joke, in making his suspicious guest drink just as
much wine as he thought fit to impose. On this occasion, however, he
inverted the proverb, and reckoned without his guest; for, by one
imprudent remark, he had well-nigh torn the laurels from his brow.
"Well, sir!" he exclaimed, "although this is the first day you ever
set foot on the island, you have seen enough, I hope, to satisfy you
that we are not quite such savages as you supposed; liberty hall, you
see, is the true title of every Irish gentleman's dining-room: there's
no compulsion here, you must see very clearly." It was little that my
English friend could now see very clearly of anything; but the above
premature announcement of victory brought back all the stranger's
suspicions. Fired with this idea, he started on his feet, and eyeing
the door for a long time before he ventured on the voyage, with a bold
determination, and taking a good departure from his chair, he gained
his port. He had undoubtedly expected to be lugged back again; for he
whisked the tails of his coat out of reach, while, with his other hand
on the lock of the door, and swaying himself about from side to side,
like a ship in a calm, he stood the very image of tottering
equilibrium, as the mathematicians call it. Our adroit landlord, who
was not a man to shrink from difficulties, mustered to his aid all the
resources of a long well-practised hospitality, and gallantly met this
great occasion. His devices were, probably, exhausted; so he took
another line, and called out, "Oh, you're off, are you? Very
well--you'll find the ladies in the drawing-room. I think I hear the
tinkle of the piano: I prefer the tinkle of the glass. Pray tell the
damsels we are coming by-and-bye: mind you say 'by-and-bye.' I don't
like to be too particular, for fear of seeming rude: don't you see?"
This speech was wound up by a telegraphic flourish of the hand towards
Tim, who stood near, with a bottle between his feet, the screw buried
in the cork, and his body bent to the effort, which he only delayed to
exercise till ordered by his master to pull. "Out with him, man! out
with the cork!" cried the host. The loud report which succeeded rang
over the apartment like the sweetest music to the souls of the ever
thirsty company. Tim's thunder was echoed back by a truly
bacchanalian shout, such as nothing on earth can give proper emphasis
to, except a double allowance of claret. The Englishman, fairly
subdued by the sound, glided again to the table; then seizing his
brimming glass in one hand, and grasping the fist of his merry host in
the other, he roared out,--
"You really are an uncommon good fellow; and hang me if ever I
distrust an Irishman again as long as I live!"
But within three minutes afterwards this promise was broken; for as
soon as we had discussed the bottle which the incomparable Tim had so
opportunely introduced, the master of the house, seeing us at length
quite at his mercy, and eager to go on, rose, and said, to our great
amaze,--
"Come! we've had wine enough; let's join the ladies in the next room."
The disappointed company stared at one another, and loudly proclaimed
that it was not fair to limit them in this way. The Englishman, in
particular, wished to remain; but our host was inexorable. Meanwhile,
Timothy grinned from ear to ear; familiar with his master's tricks
upon travellers; and the landlord deliberately opening the door,
marched off the field of battle with flying colours.
As we moved along to the drawing-room, my companion whispered to me,--
"I must own I have been rightly served for my suspicions. I made quite
certain of being bullied into drinking more than was agreeable to me;
but it turns out," added he, laughing, "quite the reverse; for I
cannot get a drop of wine, now that I want it."
"Well! well!" cried our hospitable friend, who overheard the
conclusion of this remark, "you shall do as you please ever after this
evening."
He then showed us to a couple of snug rooms, which he said were ours,
as long as we chose to occupy them.
For myself, I went off to the Giant's Causeway in the course of next
day; and on returning, at the end of a week, found that my friend,
instead of cutting the connection, according to promise, had not been
once out of sight of the house, and had never been asked to drink a
bottle, or even a glass, more than he liked. He declared, indeed, that
he had rarely met, in any country, with persons so truly hospitable,
or more gentleman-like, in the truest sense of these words.
CHAPTER IV.
THE ADMIRALTY LIST.
In the midst of these gay doings, which were all very well for a time,
but rather profitless on the whole, an extremely favourable opening
for promotion suddenly occurred. The late Sir Samuel Hood, on being
appointed commander-in-chief of the East India station, was applied to
by my friends, and agreed to take me with him as one of his
lieutenants. His list of _proteges_, he said, was a long one, and I
must come in last; after his old followers were provided for, but
there could not be a moment's doubt on the occasion. In his letters,
the Admiral dwelt very strongly on the importance of having the name
of his young friend, as he was good enough to call me, placed likewise
on the Admiralty List.
The purpose of this advice is easily explained. The Admiral on a
foreign station is allowed actually to appoint, or promote, to certain
vacancies only, any officer whom he pleases, while on the occurrence
of all other vacancies, except those which are thus specifically
placed at his disposal, he is furnished with what is called an
Admiralty List. In former times, whatever it be now, the Admirals
abroad were allowed to appoint officers of their own selection to
vacancies occasioned by death, or by the sentence of a court-martial;
while they were instructed to nominate those persons only who stood on
the Admiralty List to such vacancies as arose from officers falling
sick and invaliding; from the accession of ships captured and
purchased into the service; from officers deserting (which strange
event has sometimes happened); or from the squadron being increased by
ships built and launched on the station. But as these last enumerated
are, generally speaking, of much more frequent occurrence than those
which fall to the Admiral's peculiar share, an officer on the
Admiralty List has a proportionately better chance of promotion than
one who stands merely on that of the commander-in-chief.
These two lists differ essentially in one material feature. As a
matter of course, the Admiral's List possesses some degree of
stability; since a place upon it is generally won by long service
under his flag, and retained there by personal esteem or family
connection. An Admiral's follower, indeed, far from being a term of
reproach, is always one of honour, as it implies the confidence and
regard of the flag-officer. To get placed therefore, however near the
end, on the good books of a rising Admiral is almost a certain road to
promotion.
On the other hand, the Admiralty List is kept a profound secret, or,
what comes nearly to the same thing, is kept strictly out of sight of
those it most concerns. It is well known to be formidably intricate in
its arrangements, and very slippery in its promises; indeed, from the
circumstance of its depending on the fluctuating interests of party
politics, it must be essentially pie-crusty in its texture. For it is
sometimes thought in the political world that as much may be done by
propitiating antagonists as by rewarding friends. How all this may be
in sound principle I cannot tell; but nothing in practice can be more
unsteady, or less to be relied upon, as I too well know, than this
said Admiralty List. Still, the advantages of getting his name on this
precious little slip of paper are very great, though it be a most
unofficial-looking note sheet, as I can testify, from having once
incidentally been afforded a glimpse of one, on which, to my horror,
my own name was not! If the admiral of the station be also a personal
friend, that source of favour, of course, always adds another string
to the young man's bow. Circumstances likewise occasionally arise
which enable an admiral, who has an officer's interest really at
heart, to give him an extra lift at the right moment, and in the right
direction, provided his name actually stands on the Admiralty List,
even though it be ever so low down.
Before sailing for India, accordingly, I took a world of pains to make
out this grand point, tormented my friends and relations most wofully,
and, as I conceived, with eventual success. A distinct assurance was
given to a near connection of my own, and a member of parliament, that
my name would certainly stand on the First Lord's list, to be sent out
to India in his Majesty's ship Volage, of which I had the farther good
fortune to be appointed junior lieutenant. A change at the Admiralty
was then confidently expected; and I took every care, as I thought, to
have it arranged that my name should not be omitted when the new
First Lord came into power. Little dreamed I that, in the _melee_ of
official patronage and personal favour which shortly afterwards took
place at headquarters, my poor name would be dropped out altogether.
The provoking consequence was, however, that I had the mortification
of seeing sundry capital vacancies in India pass by, one after
another, which, had I occupied even the very low place on the fresh
list which I had filled on the old one, might have secured my
promotion several years sooner than it came.
The old Volage, in which we sailed for India, I am forced to confess,
was one of the least good-looking of all his Majesty's ships and
vessels then afloat. But by this time I cared not one fig for the
looks of my ship, though, a month or two before, I should have
considered it a point of honour to maintain its beauty. I was
delighted beyond measure to think that, at length, I was on the right
road to promotion; and this satisfaction was more than doubled by
finding the East was the region in which that great prize was to be
sought for.
Although the men-of-war and their convoy sailed from Spithead on the
25th of March, they did not reach Madeira till the 19th of April. It
is always more teasing to be delayed at the outset of a voyage than at
any other stage of its course, just as it is mortifying and hurtful to
be checked in the commencement of a profession. Upon this occasion we
had a fine rattling easterly breeze for eight-and-forty hours after
starting, which swept us all, dull sailers and good ones, merrily out
of the British Channel. This fair start is always a grand affair,
whatever succeeds; for if the prevalent westerly wind catches a ship
before the channel is left well behind, she may be driven back to
Plymouth or Falmouth, and all the agony of bills, news, leave-taking,
and letters, has to be endured over again. Whereas, if she once gets
the Lizard Light some fifty leagues astern of her, all these worrying
distractions may be considered at an end. A totally new world--the
"world of waters"--is now entered upon, far beyond the reach even of
those long-armed persons, the "gentlemen of the press," or the
startling sound of the postman's knock; that call which so often sets
off the steadiest-going pulse at a gallop!
Oh, the joy! the relief unspeakable! of feeling oneself fairly under
weigh, and of seeing the white cliffs of Old England sinking in the
north-eastern horizon right to windward! Let the concocters of
romances and other imaginary tales say what they please of the joys of
returning home; give me the happiness of a good departure, and a
boundless world of untried enjoyments ahead. If a man be out of debt
and out of love, or only moderately involved in either of these
delicate predicaments; if he have youth and health and tolerable
prospects, a good ship under his foot, good officers over him, and
good messmates to serve with, why need he wear and tear his feelings
about those he leaves behind? Or rather, why need he grieve to part
from those who are better pleased to see him vigorously doing his duty
rather than idling in other people's way at home? Or wherefore should
he sigh to quit those enjoyments in which he cannot honourably
participate till he has earned his title to them by hardy service?
On the other hand, who is there so insensible as not to feel the
deepest apprehension, on returning from a long and distant voyage?
Busy fancy will conjure up images of death and sickness, of losses and
sorrows. And when the accumulated pile of letters is first placed in
our hands after a long voyage, with what sickening eagerness do we not
turn from the superscription to discover the colour of the seal?
It happened once to me to be nearly fifteen months without receiving a
single line from home, or seeing an English newspaper. On reaching the
port of rendezvous, I found that as the ship I commanded was the only
man-of-war in the harbour, there devolved upon me an immense load of
official business requiring immediate and careful attention. All this
I learned on my way to the consul's office, where a huge budget of
letters was delivered to me. My first impulse, naturally, was to tear
away the envelopes, and dive into the secrets of these domestic
dispatches; but I paused on detecting several ominous-looking patches
of black wax, and, thrusting them all into a drawer, did not open one
till next day. Officially considered, it was well I imposed this
restraint upon my curiosity; for the fatal news these letters
contained must have seriously interfered with the exclusive
professional attention which the nature of the service required me to
bestow upon various public matters admitting of no delay; whereas, in
regard to the private intelligence, a single day, added to so many
months, signified nothing.
After leaving Spithead, our two days of fair wind were enough to take
us clear of the channel, and well off the bank of soundings, far
beyond the danger of return. A tolerable spell of bad weather then
came on, which in one sense was of essential service, by contributing
greatly to assist the first lieutenant's arrangements, though it
discomfited most grievously the apple-pie order of those disturbers of
his peace, the shore-going, long-coated gentry, our passengers, whom
the sailors, in their coarse but graphic vocabulary, call "dog
robbers," from their intercepting the broken meat on its way to the
kennel from their master's table. Our gale of wind, indeed, was no
gale to speak of; but as the sea rose, and a heavy press of canvas
laid the creaking old barky well over on her broadside, many of the
beautifully piled boxes, the well-packed portmanteaus, the polished
dressing cases and writing-desks, the frail glass, crockery, and other
finery, fetched way, and went rattling, smash! dash! right into the
lee scuppers. In the next instant, the great bulk of these materials
were jerked back again to their original situation, by that peculiar
movement, so trying to unpractised nerves, called a lurch to windward.
To unaccustomed ears, the sounds on this occasion lead one to suppose
the ship is going to pieces; while the cries for help from the
broken-shinned, sea-sick landsmen, the bawling for cleats and lashings
from the mate of the decks, the thumping of hammers, and the loud
laugh of the light-hearted middies, enchanted with the uproar, make a
fine concert. The sedative effect of two or three hours of this work
exceeds fresh-water belief; so that in a day or two, Messrs. Neptune,
Boreas, First Lieutenant, and Co., have re-established their
legitimate authority so completely, that neither servants, nor any
other passengers, ever afterwards venture to indulge in those
liberties which, at first coming on board, they fancied might be taken
with impunity.
CHAPTER V.
THE TROPICAL REGIONS AT SEA.
There sailed along with us in the Volage, from Spithead, the Princess
Caroline, 74, and the Theban frigate, to aid in protecting a fleet of
East India Company's ships, all for China direct.[2] As these ships
were of the largest class, well manned, well commanded, and were
likewise pretty well armed, and got up to look like men-of war, our
force had not only an imposing appearance, but was capable of baffling
an enemy, even in considerable strength. There is, indeed, one signal
instance on record in which a fleet of East India Company's ships
actually beat off, unassisted, a French squadron of very powerful
vessels. These striking incidents, peeping out from time to time, show
what is called the true blood, and are extremely valuable, proving how
essential it is that an officer in command should "Never say die while
there is a shot in the locker!" a pithy old phrase, which will apply
to many situations in life, civil as well as military. Had the gallant
commander alluded to, Sir Nathaniel Dance, yielded when the French
Admiral Linois, and his squadron, consisting of the Marengo, a
line-of-battle ship of 84 guns, and the Belle Poule and Semillante
frigates, each of 44, bore down on the China fleet, not less than six
millions of English property, and some of the noblest trading ships
that float on the ocean, must have been carried into the Isle of
France.
This memorable affair took place near Pulo Aor, in the China seas, and
by a very interesting, and no doubt useful coincidence, on the 14th of
February, 1804, the seventh anniversary of the glorious action off
Cape St. Vincent. Had the enemy only known the real force of his
opponents, which he most certainly ought to have found out before he
quitted them, the bold front these ships put forward might indeed have
served them nothing. A less resolute man than Captain Dance might have
said this good fortune was hardly to be calculated upon; but it is the
duty of a commander, at all times and under all circumstances, to
afford himself every possible chance, and never to give up while there
is one of these chances left.
A useful chapter in naval history and tactics could be written on the
defence of convoys, by which it might perhaps be made manifest that a
determined bearing, accompanied by a certain degree of force, and a
vigorous resolution to exert that force to the utmost, would, in most
cases, save the greater part of the convoy, even against powerful
odds. In the well-known instance, in which Captain Richard Budd
Vincent sacrificed his ship, in a contest where he was from the first
sure to be overpowered, he gained sufficient time for most of his
flock of merchant-ships to escape.
In February, 1805, this gallant officer, in the Arrow, of 18
twenty-four pounders, ably supported by Captain Arthur Farquhar, in
the Acheron bomb, carrying not half that number, actually engaged two
large French frigates, mounting in all 90 guns and 1300 men, while the
English force was only 26 guns and 90 men. The damage and delay caused
to the enemy by this spirited resistance enabled the convoy to
disperse, and all get off but three, out of thirty-two. The English
ships did not strike till they were so much cut up that one sunk
immediately afterwards, and the other was burned by the captors as
useless.
On the occasion of our voyage in 1812, however, the fortitude and
skill of our East India ships were put to no such proof, as our most
interesting evolutions were confined to the interchange of good
dinners; for your Indiamen know as well how to eat, drink, and be
merry, as to fight, if need be. Their chief business is to trade; but
their trading is a widely different thing from that of the ordinary
merchant service. The East India Company's officers are bred in many
respects like naval men, and they feel in the same manner. Being
sprung from as good a stock as the officers of the Navy, they possess
a kindred gentleman-like spirit, and are in every respect suitable
allies in battle.
In fine weather, during our whole voyage, there scarcely occurred a
day on which, in the course of the morning, if the sea were tolerably
smooth, and the wind not too strong, the dinner invitation signal was
not displayed from the commodore, or from some of his flock. When
there was a breeze, and the ships were making way through the water,
some technical address was necessary to avoid delay. This will easily
be understood, without going into minute details, when it is
remembered, that there must always in a convoy be found certain ships
which sail worse than others, and that, although these tubs, as they
are most deservedly called, crowd all their canvas, the rest are
obliged to shorten sail in order to keep them company; as Lightfoot,
in the fairy tale, was obliged to tie his feet in the race. If it be
the commodore who gives the dinner, he either heaves to, while the
boats of the several captains come on board, or he edges down to the
different ships in succession, passes them at the distance of a
quarter of a cable's length, picks up his guests, and resumes his
station ahead, or to windward, or wherever it may suit him to place
himself so as best to guard his charge. If any of the fast sailers
have occasion to heave to, either before or after dinner, to lower
down or to hoist up the boat which carries the captain backwards and
forwards to the ship in which the entertainment is given, and in
consequence of this detention any way has been lost, that ship has
only to set a little more sail that she may shoot ahead, and regain
her position in the line.
The bad sailers of all fleets or convoys are daily and hourly
execrated in every note of the gamut; and it must be owned that the
detention they cause, when a fine fresh breeze is blowing, is
excessively provoking to all the rest, and mortifying to themselves.
Sometimes the progress of one haystack of a vessel is so slow that a
fast-sailing ship is directed to take her in tow, and fairly lug her
along. As this troublesome operation requires for its proper execution
no small degree of nautical knowledge, as well as dexterity, and must
be performed in the face of the whole squadron, it is always exposed
to much sharp criticism. The celerity with which sail is set, or taken
in, by the respective ships, or the skill with which broken spars are
shifted, likewise furnish such abundant scope for technical
table-talk, that there is seldom any want of topic in the convoy.
Sailors, indeed, are about as restless as the element on which they
float; and their hands are generally kept pretty full by the necessity
of studying the fluctuating circumstances of wind and weather,
together with due attention to the navigation.
These occupations served to give a high degree of interest to this
Indian voyage, which, to most of us, was the first; the mere
circumstance of having to pass successively and quickly through a
number of different climates, first in the order of increasing warmth,
and then in the reverse order of increasing cold, was of itself most
striking. The change of latitude being the chief cause of these
phenomena, a succession of astronomical variations were necessarily
attendant upon the progress of the voyage; easily explained by
reasonings, and the actual, practical exhibition, as it may be termed,
of the truths of astronomical science failed not to strike the
unfamiliarised imagination as both wonderful and beautiful.
When we sailed from England the weather was very cold, raw, and
uncomfortable; and although we had a couple of days' fair wind at
starting, we were met in the very chops of the channel by hard-hearted
southerly and south-westerly winds, which tried our patience sorely.
On the evening of the tenth day we caught a glimpse of the north coast
of Spain; and the rugged shore of Galicia was the last which most of
us saw of Europe for many years. It was not till after a fortnight's
hard struggling against these tiresome south-westers that we anchored
in Funchal Roads, having by the way dropped several of our convoy.
These stray sheep came in during the few days we remained to refresh
ourselves at this most charming of resting-places. After nearly a
week's enjoyment, we proceeded on our course to the southward; within
three days we came in sight of Palma, the most northern of the Canary
Island group. It was thirty miles distant in the south-east quarter;
and Teneriffe, the sea "monarch of mountains," lay too far off for us
to perceive even his "diadem of snow," which at that season (April), I
presume, he always wears. Some years after the period in question,
when I paid him a visit, in the month of August, the very tip-top was
bare, and the thermometer at 70 deg..
Under more favourable circumstances, we might possibly have seen
Teneriffe from the Volage, for our distance was not above a hundred
miles. This, however, it must be owned, is a long way to see the land,
unless it form a continuous ridge of great elevation, like the Andes;
and even then, to be distinguished well, it requires to be interposed
between a bright sky and the ship. At day-break, and for about half an
hour before sunrise, if the weather be clear, even sharp peaks, like
the cone of Teneriffe, may be seen with a degree of distinctness which
is very remarkable, when viewed from the distance of a hundred miles
and upwards, as I have several times experienced when navigating in
the Pacific. But when the full splendour of the sun's light begins to
fill the air, these gigantic forms gradually fade away amongst the
clouds, or melt into the sky, even when no clouds are visible. I have
likewise been told, that, in sailing directly away from Teneriffe (or
other high insulated peaks), and keeping the eye pretty constantly
fixed in the proper direction, it may be retained in sight at much
greater distance than it can be discovered on approaching. I am
disposed to consider this very probable, but have never had a good
opportunity of trying the experiment.
It was late in April, as we were stealing slowly past these distant
Canary Islands, when the first real puff of the Trade-wind caught our
sleeping sails, and made the braces, haulyards, and all the other
ropes connected with the yards, crack again. This breeze served more
effectually to detach our thoughts from European interests than
anything which had occurred since our leaving England. At the very
moment, however, when we were chuckling at this disentanglement of our
feelings from domestic anxieties, and all the varied agitation of home
concerns, we observed a ship crossing our path at some distance.
Signal being made to chase, we instantly darted off from the convoy to
examine the stranger, which proved to be an English ship from Lisbon.
We hailed, and asked, "What news?"
"Badajoz has fallen," replied the other, "after a terrible siege."
This was received with a general buzz of joyous congratulation along
the decks. In answer to further questions, we were told of some three
or four thousand men killed and wounded in the trenches and breach.
Then, indeed, the glorious intelligence was greeted by three jolly
huzzas from every ship in the convoy!
Nothing so startling as this occurred to us again; but the serenity of
our thoughts was in some degree interrupted, a few days afterwards, by
the north-easterly Trade-wind dying away, and a gentle south-wester
springing up in its place. This occurred in latitude 25-1/2 deg. N.,
where, according to our inexperienced conception of these singular
winds, we ought to have found a regular breeze from the very opposite
quarter! Nor was it till long afterwards that I learned how much the
force and direction of the Trade-winds are liable to modification by
the particular position which the sun occupies in the heavens; or how
far the rotatory motion of the earth, combined with the power which
the sun possesses of heating certain portions of the circumambient
air, are the regulating causes of the Trades, Monsoons, and, indeed,
of all the other winds by which we are driven about. It is by no means
an easy problem in meteorology to show how these causes act in every
case; and perhaps it is one which will never be so fully solved as to
admit of very popular enunciation applicable to all climates. In the
most important and useful class of these aerial currents, called, _par
excellence_, and with so much picturesque truth, "the Trade-winds,"
the explanation is not difficult. But before entering on this curious
and copious theme, I feel anxious to carry our convoy fairly across
the tropical regions; after which an account of the Trades will be
better understood.
I have just mentioned that the changes of temperature, on a voyage to
India, are most remarkable. We set sail, for instance, in the month
of March, when it was bitterly cold in England; then we came off the
coast of Spain, where it was a little more moderate; next to Madeira,
which is always agreeable. Then we passed the Canaries; after which we
sailed over the tropic of Cancer, and got well toasted in the torrid
zone; steered down upon the equinoctial line, passed the tropic of
Capricorn, and again became conscious of the weakened influence of the
sun; till, at length, off the Cape of Good Hope, we were once more
nipped with the cold. Anon, having rounded the south point of Africa,
we put our heads towards the line, and a second time, within a few
weeks, emerged from the depth of winter into the height of summer.
The proximate cause of all these vicissitudes was, of course, our
approach towards and removal from the direct influence of the great
source of light and heat. At one time, the sun, even at noon, was seen
creeping stealthily along, low down in the horizon, at another his
jolly countenance was blazing away right overhead. On the 5th of May,
when our latitude was 17-1/2 deg. N., the sun's declination was 16-1/4 deg.
N., his centre being only one degree from our zenith: shadows we had
none. On that day we saw St. Antonio, the north-westernmost of the
Cape de Verde Islands, the summit of which is about seven thousand
feet above the sea.
On the next day I well remember going on deck with a certain flutter
of spirits, to see, for the first time in my life, the sun to the
northward, and moving through the heavens from right to left, instead
of from left to right. No one doubts that the earth is round; yet
these conspicuous and actual proofs of its rotundity always amuse the
fancy, and frequently interest the judgment, almost as much as if they
were unexpected. The gradual rise, night after night, of new stars and
new constellations, belongs to a still higher order of curiosity; for
it not merely places well-known objects in strange positions, but
brings totally new subjects of contemplation before our eyes, and
leads us to feel, perhaps more strongly than upon any other occasion,
the full gratification which novelty on the grandest scale is capable
of producing. I shall never forget the impatience with which I have
often watched the approach of darkness after a long day's run to the
south, knowing that, in a few moments, I was to discover celestial
phenomena heretofore concealed from my view.
After slanting through the north-east Trade-wind, we reached that
well-known but troublesome stage in the voyage, so difficult to get
over, called the Variables. This region has acquired its title from
the regular Trades not being found there, but in their place unsteady
breezes, long calms, heavy squalls, and sometimes smart winds from the
south and south-westward. These Variables, which sorely perplex all
mariners, even those of most experience, while they drive young ones
almost out of their senses, are not less under the dominion of the
causes which regulate those great perennial breezes the Trades,
blowing to the northward and southward of them. Their laws, however,
are not quite so readily understood, and consequently are not so
easily allowed for in the practice of navigation.
When we actually encounter, on the spot, and for the first time, a
crowd of new circumstances, of which, previously, we have only known
the names, or have merely heard them described by others, we feel so
much confused and bewildered, that we fly eagerly to the nearest
authority to help us out of the scrape. It generally happens, in these
cases, that the reference does not prove very satisfactory, because
the actual circumstances with which we are engaged are rarely similar
in all their bearings to those with which we compare them; and when
this is not the case, the blindfold method of proceeding in the beaten
path is very apt to mislead.
As an illustration of this kind of deception, it may be stated that
navigators, whose actual experience has not extended to the tropical
regions, are very apt, in poring over the voyages of others, to
acquire, insensibly, a very confident notion that each of the great
Trade-winds blowing on different sides of the Line (the North-east and
the South-east by name), are quite steady in their direction; and
that, in the equatorial interval which lies between them, only calms
and light winds are to be found. Moreover, inexperienced persons
generally believe this interval to be equally divided by the equator,
and that both the breadth and the position of this calm region
continue unchanged throughout the whole year. Now, here are four
important mistakes,--important both in a scientific and in a practical
point of view. For, 1st, Not calms and squalls alone, but occasionally
fresh and steady winds, are found between the Trades; 2ndly, The belt
called the Variables is by no means equally divided by the equator;
neither, 3rdly, is that belt stationary in its position; nor, 4thly,
is it uniform in its breadth. It will thence be easily understood,
even by a person who has never quitted one of the midland counties in
England, and to whom the ocean is an unseen wonder, that a new-comer
to the tropical regions, his head loaded with these false views, will
be very apt to mistake his own ignorance for the caprice of Nature,
and perhaps call out, as I once heard a man do, in all the agony of
impatience caused by a protracted head-wind,--"Now, this is really
scandalous usage of the clerk of the weather-office!" The scandal,
however, lay not so much with the clerk's usage as with his own
limited knowledge; for if, at the very time of his imprecation,
instead of abusing the foul wind, and keeping his yards braced sharp
up, and making his sails stand like a board, the grumbler had known
how to take advantage of it, and had kept away two or three points,
set his fore-topmast studding-sail, and flanked across or through the
breeze which he had in vain tried to beat against, he might not only
have saved his temper, but have made his passage in half the time.
I am not sure that, in the whole range of this extensive subject,
there could be picked out an instance more in point to what has just
been said, than these interesting phenomena of the Trade-winds. To
sailors of every age and rank, and especially to naval officers, an
acquaintance with the laws which regulate these extraordinary aerial
currents must be of great importance. For a commander may be ordered,
at a moment's warning, either to carry his own ship, or to lead a
squadron, or to guard a convoy, from the northern to the southern
hemisphere, or perhaps from the West to the East Indies. If, however,
he have not previously made a tropical voyage or two, or have not
studied the subject in its genuine theoretical spirit, as well as in
the log-books of his predecessors, he may expect to find himself most
wofully embarrassed, both on entering and on leaving the Trades.
Independently of all such public objects concerned in these inquiries,
there appears to exist a very general interest in the Trade-winds,
sufficiently strong to engage the attention even of unprofessional
persons. These vast currents of air, which sweep round and round the
globe, in huge strips of more than twelve hundred miles in width, are
in a manner forced on every one's notice, from contributing to that
boundless interchange of the productions of distant regions by which
modern times are so agreeably distinguished from the old.
The great Monsoons, again, of the Indian and China oceans play almost
as important a part in this grand nautical drama along the coasts of
those remote countries. These great phenomena will be found to obey
precisely the same laws as their less fluctuating brethren the mighty
Trades; and hence springs one of the chief delights of science when
its study is conducted in a proper spirit. If the pursuit of truth be
engaged in with sincerity, phenomena apparently the most opposite in
character, for example, winds in different parts of the earth, but in
the same latitude, blowing in totally different directions at the same
season of the year, will always prove in the end illustrative of one
another, and of their common theory.
FOOTNOTES:
[2] On the renewal of their Charter, in 1833, the East India Company
ceased to be traders, and these noble ships no longer sail under the
Company's flag.
CHAPTER VI.
THE TRADE WINDS.
There are few things more curious in the history of human knowledge
than the establishment of extensive errors as to matters of fact, and
the perverse tenacity with which they retain their hold on the public
mind. In some cases it would almost seem that the pleasure which
springs from genuine philosophical inquiry is subordinate to that
which arises from the indolent process of taking things for granted.
This applies peculiarly to the phenomena of the Trade-winds,
respecting which many erroneous ideas are generally entertained. To
professional men these fallacies are calculated to prove extremely
mischievous; while even to persons not directly connected with the
sea, the existence of error may often be injurious: and, although it
is not very easy to explain these things in a popular way, I shall
attempt to give a description of the facts as they really exist.
The main characteristics may easily be described.
The great belt of the earth's surface, nearly three thousand miles in
width, lying between the tropics (from 23-1/2 deg. north to 23-1/2 deg. south
latitude), is the chief region of the Trade-winds; though in some
parts of the world they extend to the latitude of 28 deg. both north and
south of the equator; while at other places well within the tropics,
and even close to the line, totally different winds prevail. It is
only in the open parts of the Pacific and Atlantic oceans that the
true Trade-winds blow. In the Indian and China seas, and in many other
portions of the great tropical belt, periodical winds, called
Monsoons, are found. These shifting Trades exact the closest study
from the practical navigator, in consequence of their extensive
variety and seeming complication. But they are not less deserving the
attention of merely curious inquirers, from the beautiful manner in
which these modifications of the regular breezes obey the same general
laws which direct the grand phenomena of the Trades. Indeed, the most
extensive observation serves only to link the whole into one
harmonious chain or series of explanations, exhibiting the uniformity
as well as the exquisite adaptability of Nature, even in those
departments called "inconstant," where she is supposed to be most
capricious.
The only general assertion that can safely be made with respect to the
Trade-winds is, that they blow more or less from the eastern half of
the compass towards the western. On the north side of the equator, the
north-east Trade-winds blow; and on the south side, the south-east
Trade-winds. These two names have undoubtedly contributed to mystify
the subject by naturally suggesting to the imagination currents of air
blowing respectively from the north-east and the south-east, or at an
angle of 45 deg. with the meridian. And I have even seen sailors (old
sailors too) quite surprised, and rather provoked, when they have
encountered very different winds in those parts of their voyage,
where, being misled by the force of names alone, they had taught
themselves to expect a regular breeze from a particular quarter. But,
in point of fact, the Trade-winds do very seldom blow directly from
north-east and south-east; neither are they uniform in their direction
on the same spot at different seasons of the year, nor is their
strength uniform from month to month. I may add, that the equatorial
limits, or bounding lines, of the trades, are not steadily confined to
the same latitude. In short, so far from these winds being perfectly
fixed in direction, force, and position, they are subject to very
considerable mutations, dependent on the position of the sun. Their
vast nautical value, in fact, as well as philosophical curiosity,
turns mainly on their uniformity, which, in spite of all the
fluctuations alluded to, gives them a very distinctive character.
Dr. Young and Hadley, the great authorities on the subject, are both
wrong in their conclusions.[3] Where Hadley obtains his "experience"
he does not tell; but certain it is, that no sailor who ever crossed
the equinoctial line could possibly have furnished him with two of his
principal statements. The Trades are not strongest near the equator,
as he states, nor when they reach that district do they blow along it,
or in a parallel direction, but almost always at right angles to it.
If the earth had no motion on its axis, but were surrounded as at
present with an atmosphere, and if the sun moved round and round it
exactly above the equator, without varying his declination, the
following effects would ensue: That portion of the earth lying, say
thirty degrees, on each side of the equator, being more exposed to the
action of the sun than those further from it, would become much
warmer; while the superincumbent air, being greatly heated by the
contact, would expand, or become specifically lighter, and would
consequently rise. The adjacent air, both on the north and south,
being cooler, and, of course, heavier, would rush in to supply the
place of the heated air. This air coming from the regions beyond the
tropics would, in its turn, be heated, and rise on reaching the warmer
equatorial regions, giving place to a fresh supply, which, it is easy
to see, must be furnished by the descent of that portion of air
formerly heated at the equator, raised into the cold regions of the
sky, and forced into a regular circuit by fresh elevations of heated
air. All these and many other interesting results are clearly
developed in Daniell's Meteorological Essays, a book which every one
at all interested in such inquiries will find it advantageous to
study. The first edition of this work was published in 1823, some
years after these speculations had been forced upon my notice by a
long course of service between the tropics.
It will be understood, that, as long as we imagine the globe at rest
while this circulation is going on, the course of the lower air along
the surface would be directly towards the equator, from due north in
one hemisphere, and from due south in the other; while in the upper
regions the currents would follow the opposite directions, and stream
towards the poles. But the instant we conceive the earth put into
rotatory motion from west to east, a change would take place in the
course of these aerial currents, both above and below. It must be
recollected that a volume of air, when once put in motion, will move
on, like any other body, by the mere force of its own momentum, till
that motion is destroyed by its friction against the substances along
or through which it is impelled. Any one who has observed the ring of
smoke sometimes projected from the mouth of a cannon will be sensible
that this is true.
It may likewise be of use, before going further, to consider, that, if
the globe, instead of being unequally heated; were equally heated at
all parts, from pole to pole, and being surrounded by an atmosphere,
were then made to revolve on its axis, it would carry the atmosphere
round with it exactly at the rate at which it was itself going. That
portion of the air in contact with the equator would move about 1000
miles in one hour, while that in latitude 90 deg. would be as motionless
as the poles themselves.
From this it will be seen, that, while the equator moves at the rate
of 1000 miles an hour, the district about the latitude 30 deg. moves only
860, or 140 miles slower. The average whirling velocity of the earth's
easterly motion, in the space between the equator and latitude 30 deg.,
may be stated at 950 miles an hour; and that of the belt lying between
30 deg. and 40 deg., at about 800 miles.
In the hypothetical case, above suggested, of the whole surface being
equally heated, and consequently the whole atmosphere at the same
temperature, there would be a universal calm, whatever might be the
rotatory motion impressed upon the earth. If, however, we next
suppose, what really is the case, that the air over the tropical
region is more heated than that which is farther from the equator,
this rarefied air will instantly ascend, and occupy a place above the
colder and denser air, which will flow in from the belts lying beyond
the tropics.
When the comparatively slow-moving air of the temperate zone, lying
beyond the tropics, first comes in contact with those quicker-moving
parts of the earth forming the tropical edges of the torrid zone, the
apparent motion of the air from the east, caused by the relative
difference of the rotatory velocity between the air and earth, is
great, compared to the other motion of the air, caused by its being
drawn directly towards the equator, to supply the place of the heated
portions raised into the sky. Consequently, at the tropical borders of
both Trades the wind is found to blow very nearly from the east point.
Since the cool air of the temperate and comparatively slow-moving
zones beyond the tropics is thus drawn towards the equator, and comes
successively in contact with parallels of latitude moving faster and
faster towards the east, there must be gradually imparted to it, by
the increased friction, a considerable degree of the increased
rotatory velocity belonging to the low latitudes it has now reached;
that is to say, there will be less and less difference of velocity
between the easterly motion of this temperate air and the easterly
motion of the earth; and, consequently, the wind, as it approaches the
equator, will appear to blow less and less directly from the
eastward. But, while the earth's rotation within the tropics is thus
acting on the slower-moving air which has travelled to it from beyond
the tropics, with increased friction at every successive moment, there
has been no such powerful counteracting influence in operation to
diminish the meridional motion impressed on the air in question; for,
although in proceeding from the tropics towards the equator, the wind
might, at first sight, be supposed to have its speed somewhat lessened
by friction along the earth's surface, the retardation due to this
cause, if there be any at all, must be inconsiderable, compared to
that which affects the motion caused by the difference in the rotatory
velocity of the earth at the different parallels. It must be
recollected, also, that there is a constant demand for fresh air from
the north and south, to occupy the place of the heated and rarefied
air which is raised up in the torrid zone; and this demand being
pretty equal, the motion it produces on the air in the direction of
the meridian must likewise be uniform.
If it be admitted that all the easterly character of the Trade-winds
is due to the difference of velocity between the rotation of the
torrid zone of the earth from west to east, and that of the air
impressed only with the slower rotatory motion to the east of the
temperate zone, it will follow, that, if this difference of velocities
between the earth and the air in contact with it be diminished or
annihilated, the easterly character of these winds will be diminished
or annihilated likewise. At the same time, there is no cause in
operation, that I can discover, to alter the direction of the
meridional motion, as it may be called, of the Trade-winds, or that
by which they are impelled directly towards the equator.
At first starting from the temperate zone, on its voyage to the
equator, the cold air of that slow-moving region is impressed with a
rotatory velocity of only 800 miles per hour to the eastward, but it
soon comes over parts of the earth moving more than 100 miles per hour
faster to the eastward than itself. The difference of velocity in the
earth's rotation between latitudes 30 deg. and 20 deg. is 74 miles an hour,
while between 20 deg. and 10 deg. it is only 45 miles, and in the next ten
degrees the difference in rate per hour is reduced to 15 miles.
The velocity with which the air drawn from beyond the tropics travels
along the sea towards the equator is probably not above twenty miles
an hour, a rate slow enough to allow time for the
constantly-increasing friction of the earth's rotation to act upon it,
and draw it more and more entirely to the east. By the time it has
reached the equatorial regions, the friction of the earth's surface
has operated long enough to carry the air completely along with it;
and, of course, all relative motion being done away with, everything
easterly in the character of the Trade-winds will be at an end.
But, although this constantly-increasing friction of the earth's
rotation has thus annihilated all relative easterly motion between the
air and earth, that air still retains its motion towards the equator;
and accordingly we do find the Trade-winds, at their equatorial
limits, blowing, not from the east, as Hadley, Dr. Young, and others,
conceived, but directly from the north and from the south
respectively. The strength and velocity of the Trades at these places
is, in general, considerably diminished, chiefly, perhaps, by the air
becoming heated, and rising up rather than flowing along; and also, no
doubt, by the meeting of the two opposite currents of air--one from
the north, the other from the south--which produces the intermediate
space called the Calms, or the Variables.
In strict conformity with these theoretical views, the clouds above
the Trades are almost invariably observed to proceed in the contrary
direction to the winds below. On the top of the Peak of Teneriffe I
found a gentle breeze blowing from the south-westward, directly
opposite to the course of the Trade-wind.
The more detailed circumstances usually met with in that part of a
voyage to India which lies between 30 deg. north and 30 deg. south, and which
I am about to describe, will now, I imagine, be readily understood.
Before setting out, however, I must strongly recommend any one wishing
to see these matters clearly, to have them fixed in his mind to useful
purpose, to follow both the theoretical and the practical parts of
this explanation with the assistance of a terrestrial globe.
Most ships touch at Madeira, either to take in a stock of wine, to get
fruit and vegetables, or to form a pleasant break in the early and
most disagreeable part of the voyage. Some ships pass barely in sight
of the high mountain which rises above the town of Funchal, and
satisfy themselves with taking sights for verifying the rates of their
chronometers when on the meridian of the island; while others
tantalise their passengers still more by sweeping through the roads,
without anchoring, or communicating with the shore. The captains by
such ships are pretty deeply, if not very loudly, abused by all hands,
passengers especially, who are perhaps the most dissatisfied, because
the most idle, of mortals. Shortly after leaving Madeira, which is in
32-1/2 deg. north latitude, a ship may expect to meet the Trades; but she
cannot calculate with any certainty upon catching them till she
arrives at the parallel of 28 deg.. On first reaching the Trade-wind it
will be found to blow very nearly from due east, and with this a
course is easily steered past or amongst the Canaries, and thence for
the Cape de Verdes. Some navigators pass within this group, others
keep so far out as barely to make San Antonio; and this, I think, is
considered the best route. As the ship proceeds to the southward, the
wind draws gradually round from the east to north-east, and eventually
to north-north-east, and even to north, at the southern margin of the
north-east Trade-wind.
The position of this margin or southern edge, which in technical
language is called the equatorial limit of the Trade, varies
considerably with the season of the year. From December to May
inclusive it frequently reaches as far as the 3rd degree of north
latitude, though it ranges about 5 deg. and 6 deg. north. From June to
November it is shifted back as far, sometimes, as 13 deg. north, but it
seldom extends as far south as 8 deg. north. Subjects which are treated of
in a series of tables showing the equatorial limits of both
Trade-winds, deduced by the late Captain James Horsburgh, hydrographer
of the East India Company, from the observations of 238 ships. These
tables show very clearly the effect of the absence or presence of the
sun in shifting the limits of the Trades, drawing them after him, as
it were. The presence of the sun in either hemisphere obstructs
considerably the regularity and strength of the Trade-winds in that
hemisphere, and _vice versa_.
The great difficulty experienced in making the outward-bound voyage
commences after the ship has been deserted by the north-east Trade,
for she has then to fight her way to the southward across the region
of Calms and Variables. But as these Variables blow generally from the
southward and westward, from a cause afterwards to be explained, it is
obvious enough why this part of the homeward voyage is always more
easily made than the outward passage. These southerly breezes, which
are met with in the Variables, blow at times with considerable force,
and greatly perplex the young navigator, who, trusting perhaps to some
of the erroneous published accounts, not unnaturally reckons upon
meeting the regular Trade-wind, blowing, as he supposes, from the east
near the equator, not from the south; still less is he prepared or
pleased to find it blowing from the south-westward.
This troublesome range, intervening between the two Trades, varies in
width from 150 to more than 500 miles. It is widest in September, and
narrowest in December or January. I now speak more particularly of
what happens in the Atlantic. In the wide Pacific, far from land,
fewer modifying circumstances interfere with the regular course of the
phenomena, than in the comparatively narrow sea formed by the opposite
shoulders of Africa and South America.
Calms, also, are met with in this intermediate region, or purgatory of
the outward-bound voyage, and occasionally violent tornados or
squalls, which in a moment tear away every rag of canvas from a ship's
yards. For several hours at a time, also, rain falls down in absolute
torrents. Even when the weather clears up, and a fresh breeze comes,
it is generally from the southward, directly in the outward-bound
navigator's teeth. He must have patience, however, and strive to make
the most of it by keeping on that tack by which most southing is to be
gained. It is now, I believe, generally held to be the best practice
to place the ship between 18 deg. and 23 deg. of west longitude on losing the
north-east Trade; and likewise to endeavour, if possible, to cross the
equator somewhere between these two longitudes. Before reaching the
line, however, the navigator will almost always be met by the
south-east Trade-wind. From January to May he may expect to meet it in
1 deg. or 2 deg. north latitude; but in summer and autumn he will find the
northern or equatorial limit of the south-east Trade a degree or two
still further to the northwards of the lines.
On first encountering the south-east Trade an outward-bound ship is
obliged to steer much more to the westward than she wishes to do, in
consequence of the wind blowing so directly towards the equator, and
not along it, as some of the books will insist on, in spite of Nature.
So that if she be a dull sailer she may have some difficulty in
weathering the coast of Brazil about Cape St. Roque. As she proceeds
onwards, however, and makes a little more southing, the wind will haul
more and more round from the south to the south-east, then
east-south-east, and eventually to east at the southern limit of the
Trade-wind. An inexperienced sailor, on first entering the south-east
Trade, is very apt to be too solicitous about making southing, and
hugs the wind much too close; whereas he ought rather to keep his ship
off a little, give her a fathom or two of the fore and main sheets,
and take a small pull of the weather topsail and top-gallant braces,
to ensure making good way through the water. Indeed, many officers go
so far as to recommend flanking across the south-east Trade with a
fore-topmast studding-sail set. Although, I think, there can be no
doubt of the soundness of this advice, I confess that it does require
no inconsiderable degree of faith to adopt a course, which,
apparently, takes the ship not directly away from her object, but very
much out of the straight road. In this respect, it may be remarked
that the scale of navigation on every Indian voyage is so great, and
the importance of getting into those parallels where favourable
breezes are certain to be met with, of so much more consequence than
the gain of mere distance, that two or three hundred miles to the
right or left, or even twice that space, is often not to be regarded.
Accordingly, in cutting or flanking across the south-east Trade-wind,
the object, it should be remembered, is not to shorten the distance,
but to reach those latitudes where strong westerly gales are to be met
with, by help of which five hundred or a thousand miles of lost
distance are speedily made up, and the rest of the passage secured.
In those regions lying beyond the southern tropic westerly winds
prevail during the greater part of the year, exactly as we find on
this side of the northern tropic. In the southern hemisphere, and far
from the land, the wind may be said to blow from the westward almost
as steadily as the Trades do from the eastward. The great object,
therefore, for an outward-bound ship is to get far enough south to
ensure this fair wind. Beyond the latitude of 30 deg., and as far as 40 deg.,
this purpose will generally be answered.
We are sufficiently familiar in England with the fact of westerly
winds prevailing in the Atlantic. From a list of the passages made by
the New York sailing packets across the Atlantic, during a period of
six years, it is shown that the average length of the voyage from
Liverpool to America, that is, towards the west, was forty days; while
the average length of the homeward passage, or that from west to east,
was only twenty-three days. And it may fix these facts more strongly
in the recollection, to mention that the passage-money from England to
America (in the days of sailing packets) was five guineas more than
that paid on the return voyage.
This prevalence of westerly winds beyond the tropics is readily
explained by the same reasoning which has been applied to the Trades
blowing within them. The swift moving air of the torrid zone, on being
rarefied and raised up, flows along towards the poles, and in a
direction from the equator, above the cooler and slower-moving air,
which, as I have already described, is drawn along the surface of the
earth from the temperate regions beyond the tropics. When the rarefied
equatorial air has travelled some thirty or forty degrees of latitude
along the upper regions of the atmosphere towards the poles it becomes
cooled, and is ready to descend again, between the latitudes of 30 deg.
and 60 deg., to supply the place of the lower air, drawn off towards the
equator by the Trade-winds. But this partially-cooled air falls on a
part of the earth's surface which is moving much more slowly towards
the east, in its diurnal rotation, than the air which has descended
upon it, and which is still impressed with a great proportion of its
eastern velocity due to the equatorial parallels of latitude, where it
was heated and raised up. The necessary consequence of this is, to
produce a rapid motion in the air from the west over the earth's
surface; and this, combined with the other motion of the same portion
of air, or that which has driven it from the equatorial regions,
produces this remarkable prevalence of south-westerly winds in the
northern hemisphere, and north-westerly winds in the southern
hemisphere, in those districts lying between the latitudes of 30 deg. and
60 deg..
In all that has been said above it has been assumed that the
quickest-moving or equatorial belt of the earth is also the hottest,
and consequently that over which the air has the greatest tendency to
rise. But, although this is generally true, it is not, by any means,
universally so. The variations, however, which are observed to occur
in those places where the circumstances form an exception to the
general rule, tend strongly to confirm the theory of Hadley. The
monsoons of India, as I shall presently show, are examples of this;
but the most striking instance with which I am personally acquainted
occurs in the Pacific Ocean, between the Bay of Panama and the
Peninsula of California, from latitude 8 deg. to 22 deg. north. If the huge
continent of Mexico were taken away, and only sea left in its place,
there can be no doubt but the ordinary phenomena of the Trade-winds
would be observable in that part of the Pacific above mentioned. Cool
air would then be drawn from the slow moving parallels lying to the
northward, towards the swift moving latitudes, near the equator, in
order to supply the place of the rarefied air removed to the higher
regions of the atmosphere, and, of course, north-easterly breezes
would be produced. But when the sun comes over Mexico, that vast
district of country is made to act the part of an enormous heater, and
becomes a far more powerful cause of rarefaction to the superincumbent
air than the ocean which lies between it and the equator. Accordingly,
the air over Mexico, between the latitudes of 10 deg. and 30 deg., is more
heated than that which lies over the sea between the line and latitude
20 deg.; and as the coolest, or least heated, that is, the most dense
fluid, always rushes towards the place lately occupied by the hottest
and most buoyant, the air from the equator will be drawn towards the
coast of Mexico, the great local source of heat and rarefaction.
But as this equatorial air is of course impressed with a more rapid
eastern velocity than those parts of the earth which form the southern
shores of Mexico, a westerly wind must be produced by the relative
difference in these two motions. At that particular season of the year
when the sun is in high southern declination, Mexico is not exposed to
his perpendicular rays. The equatorial regions are then more heated
than Mexico, and accordingly we actually find north-easterly breezes
nearly as they would be if Mexico were out of the way, and quite in
accordance with our theory.
In like manner, in the Atlantic, when the sun is far to the north,
the great deserts of the western angle, or shoulder of Africa, become
as vehemently heated, or more so, perhaps, than Mexico, and this draws
the air from the equator, so as to produce the south-westerly winds I
have already spoken of in the troublesome range called the Variables.
Finally, the great monsoons of the Indian ocean and China sea
contribute to establish this theory of Hadley, though I am not aware
that he ever brought it to bear on these very interesting phenomena.
They are eminently deserving of such notice, however, from being
periodical Trade-winds of the highest order of utility in one of the
busiest commercial regions of the world. Their periodical or shifting
character is the circumstance upon which their extensive utility in a
great measure depends, amongst nations where the complicated science
of navigation is but in a rude state. Myriads of vessels sail from
their homes during one monsoon before the wind, or so nearly before
it, that there is no great skill required in reaching all the ports at
which they wish to touch; and when the wind shifts to the opposite
quarter, they steer back again, in like manner, with a flowing sheet.
Thus, with an exceedingly small portion of nautical skill, they
contrive to make their passages by means of what we blue-jackets call
"a soldier's wind, there and back again." It will sometimes happen
that these rude navigators miscalculate their time, or meet with
accidents to retard them till the period of change has gone past, and
then they have no resource but to wait for half-a-year till the
monsoon shifts.
Experienced sailors, in like circumstances, acquainted with the
varieties of winds prevailing in those seas, would speedily get their
vessels out of this scrape, into which the lubberly Chinese junks
sometimes fall. They might, and certainly would, lose time in making a
roundabout of some two or three hundred miles in searching for a wind;
but, if they really knew what they were about, they would be sure to
catch it at last, and to turn it to their purpose.
From April to October, when the sun's rays fall with greatest effect
on Arabia, India, and China, and the several interjacent seas to which
these immense countries give their name, the air in contact with them,
becoming heated, rises, and gives place to fresh supplies drawn from
the equator. But this equatorial mass of air has had imparted to it by
the earth's rotation a greater degree of velocity in the direction
from west to east than belongs to the countries and seas just
mentioned; and this additional velocity, combined with its motion from
the equator, in rushing to fill up the vacuum caused by the
rarefaction of the air over those regions intersected by the tropic,
causes the south-west monsoon. "This wind," says Horsburgh, "prevails
from April to October, between the equator and the tropic of Cancer,
and it reaches from the east coast of Africa to the coasts of India,
China, and the Philippine Islands; its influence extends sometimes
into the Pacific Ocean as far as the Marian Islands, on to longitude
about 145 deg. east, and it reaches as far north as the Japan Islands."
The late Captain Horsburgh thus describes what takes place in the
winter months:--"The north-east monsoon," he says, "prevails from
October to May, throughout nearly the same space that the south-west
monsoon prevails in the opposite season mentioned above. But the
monsoons are subject to great obstructions by land; and in contracted
places, such as Malacca Strait, they are changed into variable winds.
Their limits are not everywhere the same, nor do they always shift
exactly at the same period."
During this last named period, when the north-east monsoon is blowing,
viz. from October to May, the sun is acting with its greatest energy
on the regions about the equator, and the seas lying between it and
the southern tropic, while the countries formerly mentioned (Arabia,
India, and China), lying under the northern tropic, become
comparatively cool. The air over these regions becomes relatively more
dense than the rarefied air near the line; consequently the cool air
rushes to the southward to interchange places with that which has been
heated; and as the cool air comes from slower-moving to quicker-moving
parallels of latitude, that is, from the tropical to the equatorial
regions, the north-easterly monsoon is produced, very much resembling
in its effect, as it strictly does in its cause, the ordinary
trade-wind of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans.
This is a very general view of what may be called the great monsoons
of India; but there are many variations in different places, all of
which are so readily explained by the foregoing theory, that they form
by no means the least interesting branch of the subject, or the least
satisfactory of its illustrations.
One of the most extensive of these varieties, though of a less general
and sweeping character than those which blow in the Arabian sea and
bay of Bengal, is found in a very remote part of the world. "From
October to April this north-west monsoon prevails between the
north-east part of Madagascar and the west coast of New Holland; and
it is generally confined between the equator and 10 deg. or 11 deg. south
latitude, but subject to irregularities." This westerly wind is
evidently produced by the air drawn actually from the equator towards
the slower moving latitudes of the earth, by the rarefaction of the
air to the southward when the sun is near the tropic of Capricorn.
"The south-east monsoon predominates from April to October in the
space last mentioned, and in some places reaches to the equator." In
this case, the slow moving air near the southern tropic is brought, as
in the ordinary case of the south-east Trade wind, to the quick-moving
parts of the earth's surface.
The following remark of Horsburgh's, in describing the monsoons, is
extremely valuable, and assists to explain Hadley's theory of these
matters:--"The parts where the north-west and the south-east monsoons
prevail with greatest strength and regularity are in the Java sea, and
from thence eastward to Timor, amongst the Molucca and Banda islands,
and onward to New Guinea;" for it will be obvious to any one who
inspects the globe, on reading this passage, that there occurs in the
neighbourhood of the spots alluded to a powerful cause for the
strength and regularity of the monsoons. The enormous island, or
continent, as it might almost be called, of Australia, may well be
supposed to act the part of a heater from October to April, when the
sun is so nearly over it. During that period the equatorial air is
drawn to the south, along the intermediate seas, amongst the Moluccas
and other Spice islands, so as to produce a strong and steady
north-westerly monsoon. Of course, the opposite effect will be
produced when the sun retreats to the north, and leaves Australia to
cool.
These instances are quite enough, I should imagine, to satisfy
ordinary curiosity on this point; but professional men ought not to be
contented till they have investigated all branches of this important
topic; including that elegant and very useful episode, the land and
sea breezes of all hot climates, and Horsburgh's East India Directory,
which I have quoted above so frequently, is by far the best authority
with which I am acquainted on these subjects. At the same time, I must
not omit to do justice to a beautifully-written and accurate Essay on
Winds and Currents, by that Prince of all Voyagers, Old Dampier; who,
with means far more circumscribed than most of his successors, has
contrived to arrange and condense his information in such a way as not
only to render it available to practical men, but to make it
intelligible and interesting to every class of readers.[4]
FOOTNOTES:
[3] It is necessary to note here that these questions have been
examined since Captain Hall wrote, by Commander Maury, late secretary
to the American navy, in the true analytical spirit, and immense
progress made in our knowledge of these winds by the mass of practical
observations on the subject made by practical navigators, and
published under his directions.--ED.
[4] The principle of "Great Circle Sailing," which now guides the
navigator to the Indian Ocean, must be studied in connection with this
chapter. "For every degree the ship changes her longitude south of the
Line she sails a shorter distance along the great circle than on any
other curve; for on the parallel of 60 deg. thirty miles corresponds to a
distance of sixty at the equator."--ROBERTSON'S _Theory of Great
Circle Sailing_: Bell and Daldy.
CHAPTER VII.
PROGRESS OF THE VOYAGE.
Let people say what they please of the fine bracing weather of a cold
climate, I have never seen any truth-speaking persons who, on coming
fairly to the trial, did not complain of a cold frosty morning as a
very great nuisance, or who did not cling eagerly to the fire to
unbrace themselves again. For my own part, I have always delighted in
the relaxation caused by hot weather; and, accordingly, I have very
seldom, if ever, felt the weather disagreeably warm, even in India,
especially when sailing on the open sea, or enjoying the free range of
a wide country, under awnings and bungaloes, or stretched in a
palanquin, or shaded by an umbrella on the back of an elephant.
Soldiers and sailors, whose duty exposes them at all hours, either on
a march or in boats, are often struck down by the heat, and sigh with
all their hearts for the bracing frosts of higher latitudes. But those
who have the means of bringing to bear on their comforts the
innumerable contrivances which the ingenuity of wealth has devised in
the East, indeed, make its climate not only bearable, but one of the
most enjoyable in the world.
As we sailed along on our voyage to India, gradually slipping down
from the high to the low latitudes, the sun crept up higher and higher
every day towards the zenith, while the thermometer, of course, rose
likewise. What was most agreeable in this change from cold to warmth
was the little difference between the temperature of the day and that
of the night. As we approached the equator, the thermometer fell only
from 82 deg. in the day-time to 79 deg. or 80 deg. at night, which, on deck, was
delightful. We did not, of course, come to this high temperature all
at once; for on the 6th of May, the day after we passed directly under
the sun, the average of the twenty-four hours was 73 deg., and at night
69 deg. and 70 deg..
It is not to be imagined that everyone was pleased with these changes;
for on board ship, as on shore, there exist discontented spirits,
whose acquired habit it is to find fault with the existing state of
things, be these what they may. To such cantankerous folks a growl of
misery would really seem to be the great paradoxical happiness of
their lives, and, in the absence of real hardship, it is part of your
thorough-bred growler to prophesy. I have seen a middy of this stamp
glad to find, on coming below, that some insignificant portion of his
dinner really had been devoured by his hungry messmates, while he
himself was keeping his watch on deck.
"I am used worse than a dog!" he would cry, secretly delighted to have
gained the luxury of a grievance, "I can't even get a basin of
pease-soup put by for me; it's an infernal shame, I'll cut the
service!"
The diversity of climate on an Indian voyage furnishes capital nuts
for these perturbed spirits. It is first too cold, then too hot; then
there is not wind enough; then it blows too fresh in the squalls:
by-and-bye the nights are discovered to be abominably close and
sultry, and in the day the fierce flaming downright heat of the sun is
still worse; then the calms are never to be over; or the lying trades,
as they call them, have got capsized, and blow from the west instead
of the east! After the line has been crossed, and the south-east wind
is met with, the weather soon becomes what these ingenious fellows
call too temperate, then it grows too cold again; and next off the
Cape the latitude is too stormy. In this alone they have some reason;
and I have often regretted that, by a royal ordinance of the King of
Portugal, the name of this mighty promontory was changed from Cabo de
Tormentos, the headland of storms, to its present spoony title. In
short, this grand voyage is merely a peristrephic panorama of
miseries, which if they survive, say they, it will be happy for
them.--Happy! Not a whit. It is out of their nature to be happy. To
find fault, to fling away the good the gods provide them, and to
aggravate the pain of every real wound by the impatience of idle
complaints, is their diseased joy. "Evil, be thou my good!" they might
well exclaim; for, instead of heightening the pleasures of life by
full participation, or subduing its inevitable evils, or, at all
events, softening their asperity by enduring with fortitude and
cheerfulness what cannot be helped, these self-tormentors reject what
is substantially pleasing, and cling with habitual but morbid relish
to whatever is disagreeable.
As we glided along, through the Trade-winds, towards the neck of sea
which divides Africa from South America, the symptoms of a change in
climate became daily more manifest. Every skylight and stern window
was thrown wide open, and every cabin scuttle driven out, that a free
draught of air might sweep through the ship all night long. In the
day-time, the pitch in the seams of the upper-deck began to melt, and,
by sticking to the soles of our shoes, plastered the planks, to the
great discomfiture of the captain of the after-guard. The tar, oozing
from the cordage aloft, dropped on our heads, speckled the snow white
boat covers, and obliged us to spread the hammock-cloths, to prevent
the bedding being ruined by the spots. On the larboard or eastern side
of the ship, which, of course, is always presented to the sun when
crossing the Trades on the outward-bound voyage, the pitch and rosin
with which the seams had been payed ran down in little streams across
the lines of paint. To prevent, as far as we could, some of these
annoyances, we spread the awnings over the decks, and triced up the
curtains, fore and aft, while every art was used to introduce air to
all parts of the ship. The half-ports were removed from the main-deck
guns, the gratings put on one side, and as many windsails sent down
the hatchways as could be made to catch a puff of air. Blue trousers
and beaver scrapers soon gave way before the elements, and were
succeeded by nankeens, straw hats, and canvas caps. In the captain's
cabin, where the presence of the governor, our passenger, still kept
up the strait-laced etiquette of the service, coats and epaulettes
appeared at dinner; but in the gun-room, the officers, the instant
they came below, slipped on their light white jackets, and, disdaining
waistcoat, seized their flutes and books, and drew their chairs as
near as possible to the mouth of the windsail. In the midshipmen's
berth, outside in the steerage, the shirt without neckcloth or stock,
and sometimes with its sleeves rolled up to the elbows, was the most
fashionable rig. The seamen and marines, of course, dined on the
main-deck, not only that they might enjoy the fresh air breathing
gently in upon them through the ports on the weather side, and
sweeping out again by those to leeward, but that the lower deck might
be kept as cool and airy as possible against the sultry feverish night
season.
On such occasions the men leave their tables and stools below, and
either seat themselves tailor-fashion, or recline Roman-fashion. Nor
is this in the least degree unpleasant; for the deck of a man-of-war
is made as clean every morning as any table, and is kept so during the
day by being swept at least once an hour. Of all the tunes played by
the boatswain's pipe, that which calls the sweepers is the most
frequently heard. When the order is given for dining on deck, the
different messes into which the crew are divided occupy the spots
immediately above their usual mess-places below, as far as the guns
allow of their doing so. It has always struck me as very pleasing, to
see the main-deck covered, from the after hatchway to the cook's
coppers, with the people's messes, enjoying their noon-day repast;
while the celestial grog, with which their hard, dry, salt junk is
washed down, out-matches twenty-fold in Jack's estimation all the thin
potations of those who, in no very courteous language, are called
their betters.
Until we had crossed the North-east Trade, and reached the Calms, the
ship's way through the water was too great to allow of bathing
alongside; but we easily contrived a shower-bath, which answered very
well. This consisted of a packing-box, the bottom of which was
perforated with holes, triced up between two of the skids, near the
gangway, and under the quarter of one of the boats on the booms. A
couple of the top-men with draw-buckets supplied the water from above,
while the bather stood on the main-deck, enjoying the shower. The time
selected for this delightful bath was usually about four o'clock in
the morning, after the middle watch was out, and before the exhausted
officer tumbled into bed. A four hours' walk, indeed, in a sultry
night, be it managed ever so gently, has a tendency to produce a
degree of heat approaching to feverishness; and I have no words to
describe the luxury of standing under a cool shower when the long task
is ended. We were generally just enough fatigued to be sure of a
sound, light, happy sleep, and just enough heated to revel in the
coolest water that was to be had. In fact, we found that of the sea
much too warm, being only two or three degrees below the temperature
of the air. To remedy this, our plan was, to expose a dozen
buckets-full on the gangway at eight or nine o'clock in the evening;
and these, being allowed to stand till morning, became so much cooler
by the evaporation in the night, that the shock was unspeakably
grateful.
Perhaps there is not any more characteristic evidence of our being
within the tropical regions than the company of those picturesque
little animals, the flying-fish. It is true, that a stray one or two
may sometimes be met with far north, making a few short skips out of
the water, and I even remember seeing several close to the edge of the
banks of Newfoundland, in latitude 45 deg.; but it is not until the
voyager has fairly reached the heart of the torrid zone that he sees
the flying-fish in perfection. I have hardly ever observed a person so
dull or unimaginative that his eye did not glisten as he watched a
shoal of flying-fish rise from the sea, and skim along for several
hundred yards. There is something in it so totally dissimilar to
everything else in other parts of the world, that our wonder goes on
increasing every time we see even a single one take its flight. The
incredulity of the old Scotch woman on this head is sufficiently
excusable. "You may hae seen rivers o' milk, and mountains o' sugar,"
said she to her son, returned from a voyage; "but you'll ne'er gar me
believe you have seen a fish that could flee!"
The pleasant Trade, which had wafted us with different degrees of
velocity, over a distance of more than a thousand miles, at last
gradually failed. The sails began to flap gently against the masts, so
gently, indeed, that we half hoped it was caused, not so much by the
diminished force of the breeze, with which we wore very unwilling to
part, as by that long and peculiar swell which,
"In the torrid clime
Dark heaving,"
is productive of oscillating motion on the ship; but the faint
zephyrs, which had coquetted with our languid sails for an hour or
two, at length took their leave, first of the courses, then of the
topsails, and lastly of the royals and the smaller flying kites
aloft. In vain we looked round and round the horizon for some traces
of a return of our old friend the Trade, but could distinguish nothing
save one polished, dark-heaving sheet of glass, reflecting the
unbroken disc of the sun, and the bright clear sky in the moving
mirror beneath. From the heat, which soon became intense, there was no
escape, either on deck or below, aloft in the tops, or still higher on
the cross-trees; neither could we find relief down in the hold; for it
was all the same, except that in the exposed situations we were
scorched or roasted, in the others suffocated. The useless helm was
lashed amidships, the yards were lowered on the cap, and the boats
were dropped into the water, to fill up the cracks and rents caused by
the fierce heat. The occasion was taken advantage of to shift some of
the sails, and to mend others; most of the running-ropes also were
turned end for end. A listless feeling stole over us all, and we lay
about the decks gasping for breath, seeking in vain some alleviation
to our thirst by drink! drink! drink! Alas, the transient indulgence
only made the matter worse!
Meanwhile, our convoy of huge China ships, rolling very slowly on the
top of the long, smooth, and scarcely perceptible ridges, or sinking
as gently between their summits, were scattered in all directions,
with their heads in different ways, some looking homeward again, and
some, as if by instinct, keeping still for the south. How it happens I
do not know, but on occasions of perfect calm, or such as appear to be
perfectly calm, the ships of a fleet generally drift away from one
another; so that, at the end of a few hours, the whole circle bounded
by the horizon is speckled over with these unmanageable hulks, as they
may for the time be considered. It will occasionally happen, indeed,
that two ships draw so near in a calm as to incur some risk of falling
on board one another. I need scarcely mention, that, even in the
smoothest water ever found in the open sea, two large ships coming
into actual contact must prove a formidable encounter. As long as they
are apart their gentle and rather graceful movements are fit subjects
of admiration; and I have often seen people gazing, for an hour at a
time, at the ships of a becalmed fleet, slowly twisting round,
changing their position, and rolling from side to side, as silently as
if they had been in harbour, or accompanied only by the faint,
rippling sound tripping along the water-line, as the copper below the
bends alternately sunk into the sea, or rose out of it, dripping wet,
and shining as bright and clean as a new coin, from the constant
friction of the ocean during the previous rapid passage across the
Trade-winds.
But all this picturesque admiration changes to alarm when ships come
so close as to risk a contact; for these motions, which appear so slow
and gentle to the eye, are irresistible in their force; and as the
chances are against the two vessels moving exactly in the same
direction at the same moment, they must speedily grind or tear one
another to pieces. Supposing them to come in contact side by side, the
first roll would probably tear away the fore and main channels of both
ships; the next roll, by interlacing the lower yards, and entangling
the spars of one ship with the shrouds and backstays of the other,
would in all likelihood bring down all three masts of both ships, not
piecemeal, as the poet hath it, but in one furious crash. Beneath the
ruins of the spars, the coils of rigging, and the enormous folds of
canvas, might lie crushed many of the best hands, who, from being
always the foremost to spring forward in such seasons of danger, are
surest to be sacrificed. After this first catastrophe, the ships would
probably drift away from one another for a little while, only to
tumble together again and again, till they had ground one another to
the water's edge, and one or both of them would fill and go down. In
such encounters it is impossible to stop the mischief, and oak and
iron break, and crumble in pieces, like sealing-wax and pie-crust.
Many instances of such accidents are on record, but I never witnessed
one.
To prevent these frightful _rencontres_ care is always taken to hoist
out the boats in good time, if need be, to tow the ships apart, or,
what is generally sufficient, to tow the ships' heads in opposite
directions. I scarcely know why this should have the effect, but
certainly it appears that, be the calm ever so complete, or dead, as
the term is, a vessel generally forges ahead, or steals along
imperceptibly in the direction she is looking to; possibly from the
conformation of the hull.
Shortly after the Trade-wind left us, a cloud rose in the south, which
soon filled the whole air, and discharged upon us the most furious
shower I ever beheld. The rain fell down in perpendicular lines of
drops, or spouts, without a breath of wind, unaccompanied by thunder
or any other noise, and in one great gush or splash, as if some
prodigious reservoir had been upset over the fleet from the edge of
the cloud.
Our noble commander, delighted with the opportunity of replenishing
his stock of water, called out, "Put shot on each side, and slack all
the stops down, so that the awnings may slope inwards. Get buckets and
empty casks to hand instantly!"
In a few minutes the awnings were half full of water, and a hole
connected with a hose having been prepared beforehand near the lowest
point, where the canvas was weighed down by the shot, a stream
descended as if a cock had been turned. Not a drop of this was lost;
but being carried off, it was poured into a starting-tub at the
hatchway, and so conveyed by a pipe to the casks in the hold. By the
time the squall was over we had filled six or eight butts; and
although not good to drink, from being contaminated by the tar from
the ropes and sails, the water answered admirably for washing, which
was our object in catching it.
Ever since the days of Captain Cook it has been the practice to allow
the crew two washing days per week, on the details of which proceeding
we all know the misery of putting on wet clothes, or sleeping in damp
sheets. Now, a shirt washed in salt water is really a great deal worse
than either; putting on linen washed in salt water, you first dry your
unhappy shirt by exposing it to the sun or the fire till it seems as
free from moisture as any bone; you then put it on, in hopes of
enjoying the benefit of clean linen. Alas, not a whit of enjoyment
follows! For if the air be in a humid state, or you are exposed to
exercise, the treacherous salt, which, when crystallised, has hidden
itself in the fibres of the cloth, speedily melts, and you have all
the tortures of being once more wrapped in moist drapery. In your
agony, you pull it off, run to the galley-range, and toast it over
again; or you hang it up in the fiery heat of the southern sun, and
when not a particle of wet seems to remain, you draw it on a second
time, fancying your job at last complete. But, miserable man that you
are! the insidious enemy still lurks there, and no art we yet know of
will expel him, save and except that of a good sound rinsing in fresh
water.
I need scarcely add, then, that there are few favours of the minor
kind which a considerate captain may bestow on his crew more
appreciated than giving them as much fresh water as will serve to
carry off the abominable salt from their clothes, after they have
first been well scoured in the water of the ocean; it is a great
comfort, and an officer of any activity, by a judicious management of
the ship's regular stock, and, above all, by losing no opportunity of
catching rain water, need seldom be without the means of giving to
each man of his crew a gallon twice a-week during the longest voyage.
It was from an old and excellent officer I first learned, that, by
proper and constant care, this indulgence might almost always be
granted. It is not easy, I freely admit, at all times, and in all
climates, to keep a supply Of washing-water on board. But a captain
ought to do what is right and kind, simply because it is right and
kind, regardless of trouble; and his conduct in this respect should
not be uninfluenced by the manner in which it is received; at all
events, he may be certain that if his favours be not well received,
the fault lies in his manner of giving them. Sailors have the most
acute penetration possible on these occasions; and if the captain be
actuated by any wish except that of doing his duty uniformly and
kindly, the Johnnies will see through it all, and either laugh at him
or hate him.
CHAPTER VIII.
AQUATIC SPORTS.
One day, after we had lost the north-east Trade wind, a furious
squall, unperceived till it reached us, swept through the fleet. These
violent tornadoes are generally called white squalls, from being
unattended by those black heavy rain clouds. On the occasion of
ordinary squalls, even with the advantage of the warning given by
rising clouds, it is not always easy to escape their force unhurt. If
the wind be fair, a natural reluctance is felt to shorten sail, at all
events, until the squall is so near that there is an absolute
necessity for doing so, and inexperienced officers are often deceived
by the unexpected velocity with which the gust comes down upon them.
Even the oldest sailors are apt to miscalculate the time likely to
elapse before the wind can touch them. In these cases, unless the men
be very active, the sails are torn, and sometimes a mast or a yard is
carried away. It is, besides, often doubtful whether there is wind or
merely a plump of rain in the squall; there are, therefore, few points
of distinction more remarkable between the seamanship of an old and a
young officer, than their power of judging of this matter. To a man
quite inexperienced, a squall may look in the highest degree
threatening; he will order the top-gallant clew-lines to be manned,
place hands by the topsail haulyards, and lay along the main
clew-garnets. His more experienced captain, however, being apprised of
the squall's approach, steps on deck, takes a hasty look to windward,
and says quietly to the officer of the watch, "Never mind, there's
nothing in it, it's only rain; keep the sails on her."
But although the older authority nine times in ten proves correct in
his judgment, even he might find it difficult, if not impossible, to
tell exactly upon what his confidence rested. Sailors boast, indeed,
of having an infallible test by which the point in question may be
ascertained, their secret being clothed in the following rhymes so to
call them:--
"If the rain's before the wind,
'Tis time to take the topsails in;
If the wind's before the rain,
Hoist your topsails up again."
The practical knowledge alluded to, however, comes not by rhymes, but
by experience alone, with a kind of intuitive confidence. Many long
and hard years of study, and myriads of forgotten trials must have
been gone through to give this enviable knowledge.
No experience, however, can altogether guard against these sudden
gusts or white squalls, since they make no show, except, sometimes, by
a rippling of the water along which they are sweeping. On the occasion
above alluded to there was not even this faint warning. The first
ships of the convoy touched by the blast were laid over almost on
their beam-ends, but in the next instant righted again, on the whole
of their sails being blown clean out of the bolt-ropes. The Theban
frigate and the Volage, then lying nearly in the centre of the fleet,
were the only ships which saved an inch of canvas, owing chiefly to
our having so many more hands on board, but partly to our having
caught sight of the ruin brought on the vessels near us, just in time
to let fly the sheets and haulyards and get the yards down. But even
then, with the utmost exertion of every man and boy on board, we
barely succeeded in clewing all up.
When this hurricane of a moment had passed, and we had time to look
round, not a rag was to be seen in the whole fleet; while the Wexford,
a ship near us, had lost her three top-gallant masts and jib-boom,
and, what was a much more serious misfortune, her fore-topmast was
dangling over the bows. Part of the fore-topsail was wrapped like a
shawl round the lee cat-head, while the rest hung down in festoons
from the collar of the fore-stay to the spritsail yard-arm. A stout
party of seamen from each of the men-of-war were sent to assist in
clearing the wreck, and getting up fresh spars; and a light fair wind
having succeeded to the calm in which we had been lolling about for
many days, we took our wounded bird in tow, and made all sail towards
the equator. By this time, also, the China ships had bent a new set of
sails, and were resuming their old stations in the appointed order of
bearing, which it was our policy to keep up strictly, together with as
many other of the formalities of a fleet in line of battle and on a
cruise as we could possibly maintain.
While we were thus stealing along pleasantly enough under the genial
influence of this newly-found air, which as yet was confined to the
upper sails, and every one was looking open-mouthed to the eastward to
catch a gulp of cool air, or was congratulating his neighbour on
getting rid of the tiresome calm in which we had been so long
half-roasted, half-suffocated, about a dozen flying-fish rose out of
the water, just under the fore-chains, and skimmed away to windward at
the height of ten or twelve feet above the surface. But sometimes the
flying-fish merely skims the surface, so as to touch the tops of the
successive waves, without rising and falling to follow the undulations
of the sea; that they also rise as high as twenty feet out of the
water is certain, being sometimes found in the channels of a
line-of-battle ship; and they frequently fly into a 74 gun-ship's
main-deck ports. On a frigate's forecastle and gangways, also
elevations which may be taken at eighteen or twenty feet, they are
often found. I remember seeing one, about nine inches in length, and
weighing not less, I should suppose, than half-a-pound, skim into the
Volage's main-deck port just abreast of the gangway. One of the
main-topmen was coming up the quarter-deck ladder at the moment, when
the flying-fish, entering the port, struck the astonished mariner on
the temple, knocked him off the step, and very nearly laid him
sprawling.
I was once in a prize, a low Spanish schooner, not above two feet and
a-half out of the water, when we used to pick up flying-fish enough
about the decks in the morning to give us a capital breakfast. They
are not unlike whitings to the taste, though rather firmer, and very
dry. They form, I am told, a considerable article of food for the
negroes in the harbours of the West Indies. The method of catching
them at night is thus described:--In the middle of the canoe a light
is placed on the top of a pole, towards which object it is believed
these fish always dart, while on both sides of the canoe a net is
spread to a considerable distance, supported by out-riggers above the
surface of the water; the fish dash at the light, pass it, and fall
into the net on the other side.
Shortly after observing the cluster of flying-fish rise out of the
water, we discovered two or three dolphins ranging past the ship, in
all their beauty, and watched with some anxiety to see one of those
aquatic chases of which our friends of the Indiamen had been telling
us such wonderful stories. We had not long to wait; for the ship, in
her progress through the water, soon put up another shoal of these
little things, which, as the others had done, took their flight
directly to windward. A large dolphin, which had been keeping company
with us abreast of the weather gangway at the depth of two or three
fathoms, and, as usual, glistening most beautifully in the sun, no
sooner detected our poor dear little friends take wing, than he turned
his head towards them, and, darting to the surface, leaped from the
water with a velocity little short, as it seemed, of a cannon-ball.
But although the impetus with which he shot himself into the air gave
him an initial velocity greatly exceeding that of the flying-fish, the
start which his fated prey had got enabled them to keep ahead of him
for a considerable time.
The length of the dolphin's first spring could not be less than ten
yards; and after he fell we could see him gliding like lightning
through the water for a moment, when he again rose, and shot forwards
with considerably greater velocity than at first, and, of course, to a
still greater distance. In this manner the merciless pursuer seemed to
stride along the sea with fearful rapidity, while his brilliant coat
sparkled and flashed in the sun quite splendidly. As he fell headlong
on the water at the end of each huge leap, a series of circles were
sent far over the still surface, which lay as smooth as a mirror; for
the breeze, although enough to keep the royals and top-gallant
studding sails extended, was hardly as yet felt below.
The group of wretched flying-fish, thus hotly pursued, at length
dropped into the sea; but we were rejoiced to observe that they merely
touched the top of the swell, and scarcely sunk in it, at least they
instantly set off again in a fresh and even more vigorous flight. It
was particularly interesting to observe that the direction they now
took was quite different from the one in which they had set out,
implying but too obviously that they had detected their fierce enemy,
who was following them with giant steps along the waves, and now
gaining rapidly upon them. His terrific pace, indeed, was two or three
times as swift as theirs, poor little things! and the greedy dolphin
was fully as quick-sighted as the flying-fish which were trying to
elude him; for whenever they varied their flight in the smallest
degree, he lost not the tenth part of a second in shaping a new
course, so as to cut off the chase; while they, in a manner really not
unlike that of the hare, doubled more than once upon their pursuer.
But it was soon too plainly to be seen that the strength and
confidence of the flying-fish were fast ebbing. Their flights became
shorter and shorter, and their course more fluttering and uncertain,
while the enormous leaps of the dolphin appeared to grow only more
vigorous at each bound. Eventually, indeed, we could see, or fancied
we could see, that this skilful sea sportsman arranged all his springs
with such an assurance of success, that he contrived to fall, at the
end of each, just under the very spot on which the exhausted
flying-fish were about to drop! Sometimes this catastrophe took place
at too great a distance for us to see from the deck exactly what
happened; but on our mounting high into the rigging, we may be said to
have been in at the death; for then we could discover that the
unfortunate little creatures, one after another, either popped right
into the dolphin's jaws as they lighted on the water, or were snapped
up instantly afterwards.
It was impossible not to take an active part with our pretty little
friends of the weaker side, and accordingly we very speedily had our
revenge. The middies and the sailors, delighted with the chance,
rigged out a dozen or twenty lines from the jib-boom end, and
spritsail yard-arms, with hooks baited merely with bits of tin, the
glitter of which resembles so much that of the body and wings of the
flying-fish, that many a proud dolphin, making sure of a delicious
morsel, leaped in rapture at the deceitful prize.
It may be well to mention that the dolphin of sailors is not the fish
so called by the ancient poets. Ours, which I learn from the
Encyclopaedia, is the _Coryphoena hippurus_ of naturalists, is
totally different from their _Delphinus phocoena_, termed by us the
porpoise, respecting which there exists a popular belief amongst
seamen that the wind may be expected from the quarter to which a shoal
of porpoises are observed to steer. So far, however, from our
respecting the speculations of these submarine philosophers, every art
is used to drag them out of their native element, and to pass them
through the fire to the insatiable Molochs of the lower decks and
cockpits of his Majesty's ships, a race amongst whom the constant
supply of the best provisions appears to produce only an increase of
appetite.
One harpoon, at least, is always kept in readiness for action in the
fore part of the ship. The sharpest and strongest of these deadly
weapons is generally stopped or fastened to the fore-tack bumpkin, a
spar some ten or twelve feet long, projecting from the bows of a ship
on each side like the horns of a snail, to which the tack or lower
corner of the foresail is drawn down when the ship is on a wind. This
spar, which affords good footing, not being raised many feet above the
water, while it is clear of the bow, and very nearly over the spot
where the porpoises glide past, when shooting across the ship's
forefoot, is eagerly occupied by the most active and expert harpooner
on board, as soon as the report has been spread that a shoal, or, as
the sailors call it, a "school" of porpoises, are round the ship.
There is another favourite station which is speedily filled on these
occasions; I mean, alongside of the slight-looking apparatus
projecting perpendicularly downwards from the end of the bowsprit.
This spar is not inaptly called the dolphin-striker, from its
appearing to dash into the waves as the ship pitches; perhaps it may
have acquired its name on account of its being so capital a position
from which to strike that fish. The lower end of the spar is connected
with the outer end of the jib-boom, by means of a stout rope, which,
after passing through its extremity, extends to the ship; and it is
upon this guy that the fortunate wielder of the harpoon fixes himself.
The harpoon is a triangular, or rather a heart-shaped barbed weapon,
somewhat larger than a man's head, and in the centre about as thick as
his knuckles. Its point and edges are made of iron so soft that they
can easily be brought to a rough edge by means of a file. This
javelin-head, or, as it is technically called by whalers, the "mouth,"
is connected by a slender arm or shank, terminating in a socket. The
barbed head or mouth is eight inches long, and six broad; the shank,
with its socket, two feet and a-half long. The shank is not quite half
an inch in diameter; and as this part is liable to be forcibly
extended, twisted, and bent, it requires to be made of the toughest
and most pliable iron.
A piece of small, but stout line, called, I think, the foreganger, is
spliced securely to the shank of the harpoon. To the end of this line
is attached any small rope that lies handiest on the forecastle,
probably the top-gallant clew-line, or the jib down-haul. The rope,
before being made fast to the foreganger, is rove through a block
attached to some part of the bowsprit, or to the foremost swifter of
the fore-rigging; a gang of hands are always ready to take hold of the
end, and run the fish right out of the water when pierced by the iron.
The harpooner has nothing to attend to but the mere act of striking
his object; and there are few exploits in which the dexterity of one
person is more conspicuous over that of another than in delivering the
harpoon. I have heard Captain Scoresby say, that, when a whale is
struck, it is an object of importance to drive the weapon socket-deep
into the blubber, or outer rind, of the floating monster; but in the
case of the porpoise the true point of skill appears to lie in the aim
alone: for the mere weight of the instrument, with its loaded staff,
is sufficient to lodge the barbs in the body of the fish, and in many
cases to carry it right through to the other side.
The strength of the porpoise must be very great, for I have seen him
twist a whale harpoon several times round, and eventually tear himself
off by main force. On this account, it is of consequence to get the
floundering gentleman on board with the least possible delay after the
fish is struck. Accordingly, the harpooner, the instant he has made a
good hit, bawls out, "Haul away! haul away!" upon which the men
stationed at the line run away with it, and the struggling wretch is
raised high into the air. Two or three of the smartest hands have in
the mean time prepared what is called a running bowline knot, or
noose, the nature of which may be readily described by saying that
although it slips up, or renders, very easily, it is perfectly secure,
without being subject to jamming. This running bowline, of which
several are always previously made ready, is placed by hand round the
body of the porpoise, or it may be cast, like the lasso, over its
tail, and then, but not till then, can the capture be considered quite
secure. I have seen many a gallant prize of this kind fairly
transfixed with the harpoon, and rattled like a shot up to the block,
where it was hailed by the shouts of the victors as the source of a
certain feast, and yet lost after all, either by the line breaking, or
the dart coming out during the vehement struggles of the fish.
I remember once seeing a porpoise accidentally struck by a minor
description of fish-spear called a grains, a weapon quite inadequate
for such a service. The cord by which it was held, being much too
weak, soon broke, and off dashed the wounded fish, right in the wind's
eye, at a prodigious rate, with the staff erect on its back, like a
signal-post. The poor wretch was instantly accompanied, or pursued, by
myriads of his own species, whose instinct, it is said, teaches them
to follow any track of blood, and even to devour their unfortunate
fellow-fish. I rather doubt the fact of their cannibalism, but am
certain that, whenever a porpoise is struck and escapes, he is
followed by all the others, and the ship is deserted by the shoal in a
few seconds. In the instance just mentioned, the grains with which the
porpoise was struck had been got ready for spearing a dolphin; but the
man in whose hands it happened to be, not being an experienced
harpooneer, could not resist the opportunity of darting his weapon
into the first fish that offered a fair mark.
The dolphin, the bonito, and the albacore, are sometimes caught with
the grains, but generally by means of lines baited either with bits of
tin, or with pieces of the flying-fish, when any are to be had. In
fine weather, especially between the tropics, when the whole surface
of the sea is often covered with them, a dozen lines are hung from the
jib-boom end and spritsail yard, all so arranged, that when the ship
sends forward, the hook, with its glittering bait, barely touches the
water, but rises from it when the ship is raised up by the swell. The
grains, spoken of above, resembles nothing so much that I know of as
the trident which painters thrust into the hands of Daddy Neptune. If
my nautical recollections, however, serve me correctly, this spear has
five prongs, not three, and sometimes there are two sets, placed in
lines at right angles to one another. The upper end of the staff being
loaded with lead, it falls down and turns over the fish, which is then
drawn on board on the top of the grains, as a potato or a herring
might be presented on the point of a fork.
The dolphin is eaten and generally relished by every one, though
certainly a plaguy dry fish. It is often cut into slices and fried
like salmon, or boiled and soused in vinegar, to be eaten cold. The
bonito is a coarser fish, and only becomes tolerable eating by the
copious use of port-wine.
It happened in a ship I commanded that a porpoise was struck about
half-an-hour before the cabin dinner; and I gave directions, as a
matter of course, to my steward to dress a dish of steaks, cut well
clear of the thick coating of blubber. It so chanced that none of the
crew had ever before seen a fish of this kind taken, and in
consequence there arose doubts amongst them whether or not it was
good, or even safe eating. The word, however, being soon passed along
the decks that orders had been given for some slices of the porpoise
to be cooked for the captain's table, a deputation from forward was
appointed to proceed as near to the cabin door as the etiquette of the
service allowed, in order to establish the important fact of the
porpoise being eatable. The dish was carried in, its contents
speedily discussed, and a fresh supply having been sent for, the
steward was, of course, intercepted in his way to the cook. "I say,
Capewell," cried one of the hungry delegates, "did the captain really
eat any of the porpoise?"
"Eat it!" exclaimed the steward, "look at that!" at the same time
lifting off the cover, and showing a dish as well cleared as if it had
previously been freighted with veal cutlets, and was now on its return
from the midshipmen's berth.
"Ho! ho!" sung out Jack, running back to the forecastle; "if the
skipper eats porpoise, I don't see why we should be nice; so here
goes!" Then pulling forth the great clasp-knife which always hangs by
a cord round the neck of a seaman, he plunged it into the sides of the
fish, and, after separating the outside rind of blubber, detached
half-a-dozen pounds of the red meat, which, in texture and taste, and
in the heat of its blood, resembles beef, though very coarse. His
example was so speedily followed by the rest of the ship's company,
that when I walked forward, after dinner, in company with the doctor,
to take the post-mortem view of the porpoise more critically than
before, we found the whole had been broiled and eaten within
half-an-hour after I had unconsciously given, by my example, an
official sanction to the feast.
On the 24th of May, the day before crossing the equator, I saw the
grandest display of all these different kinds of fish which it has
ever been my fortune to meet with. In my journal, written on that day,
I find some things related of which I have scarcely any recollection,
and certainly have never witnessed since. A bonito, it appears,
darted out of the water after a flying-fish, open-mouthed, and so true
was the direction of his leap that he actually closed with the chase
in the air, and sought to snap it up; but, owing to some error in his
calculation, the top of his head striking the object of pursuit, sent
it spinning off in a direction quite different from that which his own
momentum obliged him to follow. A number of those huge birds, the
albatrosses, were soaring over the face of the waters, and the
flying-fish, when rising into the air to avoid the dolphins and
bonitos, were frequently caught by these poaching birds, to the very
reasonable disappointment of the sporting fish below. These intruders
proceeded not altogether with impunity, however; for we hooked several
of them, who, confident in their own sagacity and strength of wing,
swooped eagerly at the baited hooks towed far astern of the ship, and
were thus drawn on board, screaming and flapping their wings in a very
ridiculous plight. To render this curious circle of mutual destruction
quite complete, though it may diminish our sympathy for the persecuted
flying-fish, I ought to mention that on the same day one dropped on
board in the middle of its flight, and in its throat another small
fish was found half swallowed, but still alive!
All this may be considered, more or less, as mere sport; but in the
capture of the shark, a less amiable, or, I may say, a more ferocious
spirit is sure to prevail. There would seem, indeed, to be a sort of
perpetual and hereditary war waged between sailors and sharks, like
that said to exist between the Esquimaux and the Indians of North
America, where, as each of the belligerents is under the full belief
that every death, whether natural or violent, is caused by the
machinations of the other side, there is no hope of peace between
them, as long as the high conflicting parties shall be subject to the
laws of mortality.
In like manner, I fear, that in all future times, as in all times
past, when poor Jack falls overboard in Madras roads, or in Port Royal
harbour, he will be crunched between the shark's quadruple or
quintuple rows of serrated teeth, with as merciless a spirit of
enjoyment as Jack himself can display. Certainly, I nave never seen
the savage part of our nature peep out more clearly than upon these
occasions, when a whole ship's company, captain, officers, and young
gentlemen inclusive, shout in triumphant exultation over the body of a
captive shark, floundering in impotent rage on the poop or forecastle.
The capture always affords high and peculiar sport, for it is one in
which every person on board sympathises, and, to a certain extent,
takes a share. Like a fox-chase, it is ever new, and draws within its
vortex every description of person. Even the monkey, if there be one
on board, takes a vehement interest in the whole progress of this wild
scene. I remember once observing Jacko running backwards and forwards
along the after-part of the poop hammock-netting, grinning, screaming,
and chattering at such a rate, that, as it was nearly calm, he was
heard all over the decks.
"What's the matter with you, Master Mona?" said the quarter-master;
for the animal came from Teneriffe, and preserved his Spanish
cognomen. Jacko replied not, but merely stretching his head over the
railing, stared with his eyes almost bursting from his head, and by
the intensity of his grin bared his teeth and gums nearly from ear to
ear.
The sharp curved dorsal fin of a huge shark was now seen, rising
about six inches above the water, and cutting the glazed surface of
the sea by as fine a line as if a sickle had been drawn along.
"Messenger! run to the cook for a piece of pork," cried the captain,
taking command with as much glee as if it had been an enemy's cruiser.
"Where's your hook, quarter-master?"
"Here, sir, here!" cried the fellow, feeling the point, and declaring
it as sharp as any lady's needle, and in the next instant piercing
with it a huge junk of rusty pork, weighing four or five pounds; for
nothing, scarcely, is too large or too high in flavour for the stomach
of a shark.
The hook, which is as thick as one's little finger, has a curvature
about as large as that of a man's hand when half closed, and is from
six to eight inches in length, with a formidable barb. This
fierce-looking grappling-iron is furnished with three or four feet of
chain, a precaution which is absolutely necessary; for a voracious
shark will sometimes gobble the bait so deep into his stomach, that he
would snap through the rope as easily as if he were nipping the head
off an asparagus.
A good strong line, generally the end of the mizen-topsail-haulyards,
being made fast to the chain, the bait is cast into the ship's wake;
for it is very seldom so dead a calm that a vessel has not some small
motion through the water. I think I have remarked that at sea the
sharks are most apt to make their appearance when the ship is going
along at a rate of somewhat less than a mile an hour, a speed which
barely brings her under command of the rudder, or gives her what is
technically called steerage-way.
A shark, like a midshipman, is generally very hungry; but in the rare
cases when he is not in good appetite he sails slowly up to the bait,
smells at it, and gives it a poke with his shovel-nose, turning it
over and over. He then edges off to the right or left, as if he
apprehended mischief, but soon returns again, to enjoy the delicious
_haut gout_ of the damaged pork, of which a piece is always selected,
if it can be found.
While this coquetry or shyness is exhibited by John Shark, the whole
after-part of the ship is so clustered with heads that not an inch of
spare room is to be had for love or money. The rigging, the mizen-top,
and even the gaff, out to the very peak, the hammock-nettings and the
quarters, almost down to the counter, are stuck over with breathless
spectators, speaking in whispers, if they venture to speak at all, or
can find leisure for anything but fixing their gaze on the monster,
who as yet is free to roam the ocean, but who, they trust, will soon
be in their power. I have seen this go on for an hour together; after
which the shark has made up his mind to have nothing to say to us, and
either swerved away to windward, if there be any breeze at all, or
dived so deep that his place could be detected only by a faint touch
or flash of white many fathoms down. The loss of a Spanish galleon in
chase, I am persuaded, could hardly cause more bitter regret, or call
forth more intemperate expressions of anger and impatience than the
failure in hooking a shark is always sure to produce on board a ship
at sea.
On the other hand, I suppose the first symptom of an enemy's flag
coming down in the fight was never hailed with greater joy than is
felt by a ship's crew on the shark turning round to seize the bait.
The preparatory symptoms of this intention are so well known to every
one on board, that, the instant they begin to appear, a greedy whisper
of delight passes from mouth to mouth amongst the assembled multitude;
every eye is lighted up, and such as have not bronzed their cheeks by
too long exposure to sun and wind to betray any change of colour may
be seen to alter their hue from pale to red, and back to pale again,
like the tints on the sides of the dying dolphin.
It is supposed by seamen that the shark must of necessity turn on his
back before he can bite anything, and, generally speaking, he
certainly does so turn himself before he takes the bait; but this
arises from two circumstances--one of them accidental and belonging to
the particular occasion, the other arising out of the peculiar
conformation and position of his mouth. When a bait is towed astern of
a ship that has any motion through the water at all, it is necessarily
brought to the surface, or nearly so. This, of course, obliges the
shark to bite at it from below; and as his mouth is placed under his
chin, not over it, he must turn nearly on his back before he can seize
the floating piece of meat in which the hook is concealed. Even if he
does not turn completely round, he is forced to slue himself, as it is
called, so far as to show some portion of his white belly. The instant
the white skin flashes on the sight of the expectant crew, a subdued
cry, or murmur of satisfaction, is heard amongst the crowd; but no one
speaks, for fear of alarming the shark.
Sometimes, the very instant the bait is cast over the stern, the
shark flies at it with such eagerness that he actually springs
partially out of the water. This, however, is rare. On these occasions
he gorges the bait, the hook, and a foot or two of the chain, without
any mastication or delay, and darts off with his treacherous prize
with such prodigious velocity and force that it makes the rope crack
again as soon as the whole coil is drawn out; but in general he goes
more leisurely to work, and seems rather to suck in the bait than to
bite at it. Much dexterity is required in the hand which holds the
line at this moment; for a bungler is apt to be too precipitate, and
to jerk away the hook before it has got far enough down the shark's
maw. Our greedy friend, indeed, is never disposed to relinquish what
may once have passed his formidable batteries of teeth; but the hook,
by a premature tug of the line, may fix itself in a part of the jaw so
weak that it gives way in the fierce struggle which always follows.
The secret of the sport is, to let the voracious monster gulp down the
huge mess of pork, and then to give the rope a violent pull, by which
the barbed point, quitting the edge of the bait, buries itself in the
coats of the victim's throat or stomach. As the shark is not a
personage to submit patiently to such treatment, it will not be well
for any one whose foot happens to be accidentally on the coil of the
rope, for, when the hook is first fixed, it spins out like the
log-line of a ship going twelve knots.
The suddenness of the jerk with which the poor devil is brought up,
when he has reached the length of his tether, often turns him quite
over on the surface of the water. Then commence the loud cheers,
taunts, and other sounds of rage and triumph, so long suppressed. A
steady pull is insufficient to carry away the line; but it sometimes
happens that the violent struggles of the shark, when too speedily
drawn up, snap either the rope or the hook, and so he gets off, to
digest the remainder as he best can. It is, accordingly, held the best
practice to play him a little, with his mouth at the surface, till he
becomes somewhat exhausted. No sailor, therefore, ought ever to think
of hauling a shark on board merely by the rope fastened to the hook;
for, however impotent his struggles may generally be in the water,
they are rarely unattended with risk when the rogue is drawn half-way
up. To prevent the line breaking, or the hook snapping, or the jaw
being torn away, the device formerly described, of a running bowline
knot, is always adopted. This noose, being slipped down the rope, and
passed over the monster's head, is made to jam at the point of
junction of the tail with the body. When this is once fixed, the first
act of the piece is held to be complete, and the vanquished enemy is
afterwards easily drawn over the taffrail and flung on the deck, to
the unspeakable delight of all hands. But, although the shark is out
of his element, he has by no means lost his power of doing mischief;
and I would advise no one to come within range of the tail, or thrust
his toes too near the animal's mouth. The blow of a tolerably
large-sized shark's tail might break a man's leg; and I have seen a
three-inch hide tiller-rope bitten more than half-through full ten
minutes after the wretch had been dragged about the quarter-deck, and
had made all his victors keep at the most respectful distance. I
remember hearing the late Dr. Wollaston, with his wonted ingenuity,
suggest a method for measuring the strength of a shark's bite. If a
smooth plate of lead, he thought, were thrust into the fish's mouth,
the depth which his teeth should pierce the lead would furnish a sort
of scale of the force exerted.
I need scarcely mention, that, when a shark is floundering about, the
quarter-deck becomes a scene of pretty considerable confusion; and if
there be blood on the occasion, as there generally is, from all this
rough usage, the stains are not to be got rid of without a week's
scrubbing, and many a growl from the captain of the after-guard. For
the time, however, all such considerations are superseded; that is to
say, if the commander himself takes an interest in the sport, and he
must be rather a spoony skipper that does not. If he be indifferent
about the fate of the shark, it is speedily dragged forward to the
forecastle, amidst the kicks, thumps, and execrations of the
conquerors, who very soon terminate his miserable career by stabbing
him with their knives, boarding-pikes, and tomahawks, like so many
wild Indians.
The first operation is always to deprive him of his tail, which is
seldom an easy matter, it not being at all safe to come too near; but
some dextrous hand, familiar with the use of the broad axe, watches
for a quiet moment, and at a single blow severs it from the body. He
is then closed with by another, who leaps across the prostrate foe,
and with an adroit cut rips him open from snout to tail, and the
tragedy is over, so far as the struggles and sufferings of the
principal actor are concerned. There always follows, however, the most
lively curiosity on the part of the sailors to learn what the shark
has got stowed away in his inside; but they are often disappointed,
for the stomach is generally empty. I remember one famous exception,
indeed, when a very large fellow was caught on board the Alceste, in
Anjeer Roads at Java, when we were proceeding to China with the
embassy under Lord Amherst. A number of ducks and hens which had died
in the night were, as usual, thrown overboard in the morning, besides
several baskets, and many other minor things, such as bundles of
shavings and bits of cordage: all of which were found in this huge
sea-monster's inside. But what excited most surprise and admiration
was the hide of a buffalo, killed on board that day for the ship's
company's dinner. The old sailor who had cut open the shark stood with
a foot on each side, and removed the articles one by one from the huge
cavern into which they had been indiscriminately drawn. When the
operator came at last to the buffalo's skin, he held it up before him
like a curtain, and exclaimed, "There, my lads! d'ye see that? He has
swallowed a buffalo; but he could not disgest the hide!"
I have never been so unfortunate as to see a man bitten by a shark,
though, in calm weather, it is usual to allow the people to swim about
the ship. It would seem that they are disturbed by the splashing and
other noises of so many persons, and keep at a distance; for although
they are often observed near the ship both before and after the men
have been bathing, they very rarely come near the swimmers. I remember
once, indeed, at Bermuda, seeing a shark make a grab at a midshipman's
heel, just as he was getting into the boat alongside. This youngster,
who, with one or two others, had been swimming about for an hour, was
the last of the party in the water. No shark had been seen during the
whole morning; but just as he was drawing his foot into the boat the
fish darted from the bottom. Fortunately for my old messmate, there
was no time for the shark to make the half-turn of the body necessary
to bring his mouth to bear; and he escaped, by half an inch, a fate
which, besides its making one shudder to think of, would have deprived
the service of an officer now deservedly in the higher ranks of his
profession.
CHAPTER IX.
A MAN OVERBOARD!
The strange and almost savage ceremonies used at sea on crossing the
equator have been so often described that a voyager, at this time of
day, may be well excused for omitting any minute account of such wild
proceedings. The whole affair, indeed, is preposterous in its
conception, and, I must say, brutal in its execution. Notwithstanding
all this, however, I have not only permitted it to go on in ships
which I commanded, but have even encouraged it, and set it agoing,
when the men themselves were in doubt. Its evil is transient if any
evil there be, while it certainly affords Jack a topic for a month
beforehand and a fortnight afterwards; and if so ordered as to keep
its monstrosities within the limits of strict discipline, which is
easy enough, it may even be made to add to the authority of the
officers, instead of weakening their influence.
In a well-regulated ship, within one hour from the time when these
scenes of riot are at their height, order is restored, the decks are
washed and swabbed up, the wet things are hung on the clothes' lines
between the masts to dry; and the men, dressed in clean trousers and
duck frocks, are assembled at their guns for muster, as soberly and
sedately as if nothing had happened to discompose the decorous
propriety of the ship's discipline. The middies, in like manner, may
safely be allowed to have their own share of this rough fun, provided
they keep as clear of their immediate superiors as the ship's company
keep clear of the young gentlemen. And I must do the population of the
cockpit the justice to say, that, when they fairly set about it,
maugre their gentleman-like habits, aristocratical sprinklings, and
the march of intellect to boot, they do contrive to come pretty near
to the honest folks before the mast in the article of ingenious
ferocity. The captain, of course, and, generally speaking, all the
officers keep quite aloof, pocketing up their dignity with vast care,
and ready, at a moment's warning, to repress any undue familiarity. As
things proceed, however, one or two of the officers may possibly
become so much interested in the skylarking scenes going forward as to
approach a little too near, and laugh a little too loud, consistently
with the preservation of the dignity of which they were so uncommonly
chary at first starting. It cannot be expected, and indeed is not
required, that the chief actors in these wild gambols, stripped to the
buff, and shying buckets of water at one another, should be confined
within very narrow limits in their game. Accordingly, some mount the
rigging to shower down their cascades, while others squirt the
fire-engine from unseen corners upon the head of the unsuspecting
passer-by. And if it so chances (I say chances) that any one of the
"commissioned nobs" of the ship shall come in the way of these
explosions, it is served out to him like a thunder-storm, "all
accidentally," of course. Well; what is he to do? He feels that he has
indiscreetly trusted himself too far; and even if he has not actually
passed the prescribed line, still he was much too near it, and the
offence is perhaps unintentional. At all events, it is of too trifling
a nature; and, under the peculiar circumstances of the moment, to make
a complaint to the captain would be ridiculous. Having, therefore, got
his jacket well wet, and seeing the ready means of revenging himself
in kind, he snatches up a bucket, and, forgetting his dignity, hurls
the contents in the face of the mid who has given him a sousing but
two seconds before! From that moment his commission goes for nothing,
and he becomes, for the time being, one of the biggest Billy-boys
amongst them. The captain observing him in this mess, shrugs his
shoulders, walks aft, muttering, "It's all your own fault, Mr.
Hailtop; you've put yourself amongst these mad younkers; now see how
they'll handle you!"
Nothing, I confess, now looks to me more completely out of character
with our well-starched discipline than a "staid lieutenant" romping
about the booms, skulling up the rigging, blowing the grampus, and
having it blown upon him by a parcel of rattle-pated reefers. But I
remember well in the Volage being myself so gradually seduced by this
animating spectacle of fun, that, before I knew where I was, I had
crossed the rope laid on the deck as a boundary between order and
disorder, and received a bucket of cold water in each ear, while the
spout of a fire-engine, at the distance of two feet, was playing full
in my eyes. On turning my head round to escape these cataracts, and
to draw breath, a tar-brush was rammed half-way down my throat!
Far different was the scene, and very different, of course, my
deportment, four or five years afterwards on the same spot, when,
instead of being the junior lieutenant, I was the great gun of all,
the mighty master-nob of the whole party, that is to say, the captain
himself. I was then in command of the Lyra, a ten-gun sloop-of-war;
and after the shaving operations were over, and all things put once
more in order, I went on board the Alceste frigate to dine with my
excellent friend and commanding officer, the late Sir Murray Maxwell.
Lord Amherst, the ambassador to China, was on board, and in great glee
with the sight of what had been enacted before him; for although, as I
have always said, these scenes are not of a nature to bear agreeable
description, they certainly are amusing enough to see--for once.
We soon sat down to dinner; and there was, of course, a great deal of
amusement in telling the anecdotes of the day, and describing Father
Neptune's strange aspect, and his still stranger-looking family and
attendants. I ventured to back one of my figures against all or any of
theirs, if not for monstrosity, at least for interest of another kind.
Our dripping Neptune in the Lyra was accompanied, as usual, by a huge
she-monster representing Amphitrite, being no other than one of the
boatswain's mates dressed up with the main-hatchway tarpaulin for a
cloak, the jolly-boat's mizen for a petticoat, while two half-wet
swabs furnished her lubberly head with ringlets. By her side sat a
youth, her only son Triton, a morsel of submarine domestic history
ascertained by reference previously made to Lempriere's Dictionary.
This poor little fellow was a great pet amongst the crew of the brig,
and was indeed suspected to be entitled by birth to a rank above his
present station, so gentle and gentleman-like he always appeared. Even
on this occasion, when disfigured by paint, pitch, and tar, copiously
daubed over his delicate person, to render him fit company for his
papa old Neptune, he still looked as if his ill-favoured parents had
stolen him, and were trying in vain to disguise their roguery by
rigging him up in their own gipsy apparel.
It was very nearly dark when I rowed back to the Lyra, which had been
hanging for the last half hour on the frigate's weather-quarter, at
the distance of a cable's length, watching for my return. The wind was
so light, and the brig so close, that no signal was made to heave to;
indeed I had scarcely rowed under the Alceste's stern, on my way back,
before it was necessary to call out, "In bow!" The rattle of the oar
on the thwarts gave the earliest notice of my approach to the people
on board the little vessel, and I could hear the first lieutenant
exclaim in haste, "Attend the side! Where are the sides-men?"
Scarcely had these words been spoken, when I heard a splash in the
water, followed by a faint cry of distress and despair. In the next
instant the brig was hove about, and the stern-boat lowered down,
accompanied by all the hurried symptoms of a man having fallen
overboard. I made the people in the boat tug at their oars towards the
spot; but though we pulled over and over the ship's wake twenty times,
the water was everywhere unruffled and unmarked by any speck. At
length I rowed on board, turned the hands up to muster, to ascertain
who was gone, and found all present but our poor little Triton! It
appeared that the lad, who was one of the sides-men, fatigued with the
day's amusement, had stretched himself in the fore-part of the
quarter-deck hammock-netting, and gone to sleep. The sharp voice of
the officer, on seeing the gig almost alongside, had roused the
unhappy boy too suddenly; he quite forgot where he was, and, instead
of jumping in-board, plunged into the sea, never to rise again!
There are few accidents more frequent at sea than that of a man
falling overboard; and yet, strange to say, whenever it happens, it
takes every one as completely by surprise as if such a thing had never
occurred before. What is still more unaccountable, and, I must say,
altogether inexcusable, is the fact of such an incident invariably
exciting a certain degree of confusion, even in well-regulated ships.
Whenever I have witnessed the tumultuous rush of the people from
below, their eagerness to crowd into the boats, and the reckless
devotion with which they fling themselves into the water to save their
companions, I could not help thinking that it was no small disgrace to
us, to whose hands the whole arrangements of discipline are confided,
that we had not yet fallen upon any method of availing ourselves to
good purpose of so much generous activity.
Sailors are men of rough habits, but their feelings are not by any
means coarse; and, generally speaking, they are much attached to one
another, and will make great sacrifices to their messmates or
shipmates when opportunities occur. A very little address on the part
of the officers, as I have before hinted, will secure an extension of
these kindly sentiments to the quarter-deck. But what I was alluding
to just now was the cordiality of the friendships which spring up
between the sailors themselves, who, it must be recollected, have no
other society, and all, or almost all, whose ordinary social ties have
been broken either by the chances of war, or by the very nature of
their roving and desultory life, which carries them they really know
not where, and care not wherefore.
I remember once, when cruising off Terceira in the Endymion, that a
man fell overboard and was drowned. After the usual confusion, and a
long search in vain, the boats were hoisted up, and the hands called
to make sail. I was officer of the forecastle, and on looking about to
see if all the men were at their stations, missed one of the
foretop-men. Just at that moment I observed some one curled up, and
apparently hiding himself under the bow of the barge, between the boat
and the booms. "Hillo!" I said, "who are you? What are you doing here,
you skulker? Why are you not at your station?"
"I am not skulking, sir," said the poor fellow, the furrows in whose
bronzed and weather-beaten cheek were running down with tears. The man
we had just lost had been his messmate and friend, he told me, for ten
years. I begged his pardon in full sincerity, for having used such
harsh words to him at such a moment, and bid him go below to his berth
for the rest of the day.
"Never mind, sir, never mind," said the kind-hearted seaman, "it can't
be helped. You meant no harm, sir. I am as well on deck as below.
Bill's gone, sir, but I must do my duty."
So saying he drew the sleeve of his jacket twice or thrice across his
eyes, and mastering his grief within his breast, walked to his station
as if nothing had happened.
In the same ship, and nearly about the same time, some of the people
were bathing alongside in a calm sea. It is customary on such
occasions to spread a studding sail on the water, by means of lines
from the fore and main yard-arms, for the use of those who either
cannot swim, or who are not expert in this art, so very important to
all seafaring people. Half-a-dozen of the ship's boys, youngsters sent
on board by that admirable and most patriotic of naval institutions,
the Marine Society, were floundering about in the sail, and sometimes
even venturing beyond the leech rope. One of the least of these
urchins, but not the least courageous of their number, when taunted by
his more skilful companions with being afraid, struck out boldly
beyond the prescribed bounds. He had not gone much further than his
own length, however, along the surface of the fathomless sea, when his
heart failed him, poor little man! and along with his confidence away
also went his power of keeping his head above water. So down he sank
rapidly, to the speechless horror of the other boys, who, of course,
could lend the drowning child no help.
The captain of the forecastle, a tall, fine-looking, hard-a-weather
fellow, was standing on the shank of the sheet anchor, with his arms
across, and his well-varnished canvas bat drawn so much over his eyes
that it was difficult to tell whether he was awake, or merely dozing
in the sun, as he leaned his back against the fore-topmast backstay.
The seaman, however, had been attentively watching the young party
all the time, and, rather fearing that mischief might ensue from their
rashness, he had grunted out a warning to them from time to time, to
which they paid no sort of attention. At last he desisted, saying they
might drown themselves if they had a mind, for never a bit would he
help them; but no sooner did the sinking figure of the adventurous
little boy catch his eye, than, diver-fashion, joining the palms of
his hands over his head, he shot head-foremost into the water. The
poor lad sunk so rapidly that he was at least a couple of fathoms
under the surface before he was arrested by the grip of the sailor,
who soon rose again, bearing the bewildered boy in his hand, and,
calling to the other youngsters to take better care of their
companion, chucked him right into the belly of the sail in the midst
of the party. The fore-sheet was hanging in the calm, nearly into the
water, and by it the dripping seaman scrambled up again to his old
berth on the anchor, shook himself like a great Newfoundland dog, and
then, jumping on the deck, proceeded across the forecastle to shift
his clothes.
At the top of the ladder he was stopped by the marine officer, who had
witnessed the whole transaction, as he sat across the gangway
hammocks, watching the swimmers, and trying to get his own consent to
undergo the labour of undressing and dressing. Said the soldier to the
sailor, "That was very well done of you, my man, and right well
deserves a glass of grog. Say so to the gun-room steward as you pass;
and tell him it is my orders to fill you out a stiff norwester."
The soldier's offer was kindly meant, but rather clumsily timed, at
least so thought Jack; for though he inclined his head in
acknowledgment of the attention, and instinctively touched his hat,
when spoken to by an officer, he made no reply, till out of the
marine's hearing, when he laughed, or rather chuckled out to the
people near him, "Does the good gentleman suppose I'll take a glass of
grog for saving a boy's life?"
It is surely very odd that there should ever be such a thing as a
sailor who cannot swim. And it is still more marvellous that there
should be found people who actually maintain that a sailor who cannot
swim has a better chance than one who can.
This strange doctrine, as may well be supposed, derives but slender
support from any well-established facts. It is merely asserted that,
on some occasions of shipwreck, the boldest swimmers have been lost in
trying to reach the shore, when they might have been saved had they
stayed by the ship. This may be true enough in particular cases, and
yet the general position grounded upon it utterly absurd. The most
skilful horsemen sometimes break their necks, but this is hardly
adduced as an argument against learning to ride. I suppose there is
not an officer in the service, certainly not one who has reached the
rank of captain, who has not seen many men drowned solely from not
being able to swim; that is, because they had not learned a very
simple art, of which, under his official injunctions, and aided by due
encouragement, they might readily have acquired a sufficient
knowledge. My own conscience is not quite clear on this score,
whatever that of my brother officers may be; and certainly, should I
again take the command of a ship, I shall use every exertion, and
take advantage of every opportunity, to encourage the men and officers
to acquire this invaluable accomplishment. Would it be unreasonable to
refuse the rating of A.B. (able seaman) on the ship's books to any man
who could not swim? If it be our duty to ascertain that a sailor can
"hand, reef, and steer," before we place against his name these
mystical letters, might we not well superadd, as a qualification, that
he should also be able to keep his head above water, in the event of
falling overboard, or that he should have it in his power to save
another's life, if required to leap into the sea for that purpose by
the orders of his superior? At present, in such an emergency, an
officer has to ask amongst a dozen persons, "Which of you can swim?"
instead of saying to the one nearest him, "Jump overboard after that
man who is sinking!"
This, then, seems the first material step in the establishment of an
improved system in that branch of seamanship which relates to picking
up men who fall overboard. There can be no doubt that highly-excited
feelings always stand in the way of exact discipline, and especially
of that prompt, hearty, and thoroughly confiding obedience to the
officer under whose orders we are serving. Such obedience is necessary
on this occasion, above all others, and is essentially required, in
order to accomplish the purpose in view.
Different officers will, of course, devise different plans for the
accomplishment of the same end. Every one who has been exposed to the
misery of seeing a man fall overboard must remember that by far the
greatest difficulty was to keep people back, there being always ten
times as many persons as are required, not only ready, but eager to
place themselves in the situations of greatest risk. In executing the
duties of a ship-of-war, there should be no volunteering allowed.
Every man ought to have a specific duty, or a set of duties, to
perform at all times. But these duties, in the case of a man falling
overboard, must, of course, vary with the hour of the day or night,
with the circumstance of its being the starboard or the larboard watch
on deck, with the weather being fine or tempestuous, or with the
course the ship is steering relatively to the wind, the quantity of
sail, and so on. The crew of every ship should be exercised or
drilled, if not as frequently, at least specifically, in the methods
of picking up a man, as they are trained in the exercise of the great
guns and small arms, or in that of reefing topsails.
Every one who has been much at sea must remember the peculiar sounds
which pervade a ship when a man is known to have fallen overboard. The
course steered is so suddenly altered, that as she rounds to the
effect of the sails is doubled; the creaking of the tiller-ropes and
rudder next strike the ear; then follows the pitter-patter of several
hundred feet in rapid motion, producing a singular tremor, fore and
aft. In the midst of these ominous noises may be heard, over all, the
shrill startling voice of the officer of the watch, generally
betraying in its tone more or less uncertainty of purpose. Then the
violent flapping of the sails, and the mingled cries of "Clear away
the boats!" "Is the life-buoy gone?" "Heave that grating after him!"
"Throw that hen-coop over the stern!" "Who is it, do you know?"
"Where did he fall from?" "Can he swim?" "Silence!" An impetuous, and
too often an ill-regulated rush now succeeds to gain the boats, which
are generally so crowded that it becomes dangerous to lower them down,
and more time is lost in getting the people out again than would have
manned them twice over, if any regular system had been prepared, and
rendered familiar and easy by practice beforehand.
I could give a pretty long list of cases which I have myself seen, or
have heard others relate, where men have been drowned while their
shipmates were thus struggling on board who should be first to save
them, but who, instead of aiding, were actually impeding one another
by their hurry-skurry and general ignorance of what really ought to be
done. I remember, for example, hearing of a line-of-battle-ship, in
the Baltic, from which two men fell one evening, when the ship's
company were at quarters. The weather was fine, the water smooth, and
the ship going about seven knots. The two lads in question, who were
furling the fore-royal at the time, lost their hold, and were jerked
far in the sea. At least a dozen men, leaving their guns, leaped
overboard from different parts of the ship, some dressed as they were,
and others stripped. Of course, the ship was in a wretched state of
discipline where such frantic proceedings could take place. The
confusion soon became worse confounded; but the ship was hove aback,
and several boats lowered down. Had it not been smooth water,
daylight, and fine weather, many of these absurd volunteers must have
perished. I call them absurd, because there is no sense in merely
incurring a great hazard, without some useful purpose to guide the
exercise of courage. These intrepid fellows merely knew that a man had
fallen overboard, and that was all; so away they leaped out of the
ports and over the hammock-nettings, without knowing whereabouts the
object of their Quixotic heroism might be. The boats were obliged to
pick up the first that presented themselves, for they were all in a
drowning condition; but the two unhappy men who had been flung from
aloft, being furthest off, went to the bottom before their turn came.
Whereas, had not their undisciplined shipmates gone into the water,
the boats would have been at liberty to row towards them, and they
might have been saved. I am quite sure, therefore, that there can be
no offence more deserving of punishment, as a matter of discipline,
and in order to prevent such accidents as this, than the practice of
leaping overboard after a man who has fallen into the water. There are
cases, no doubt, in which it would be a positive crime in a swimmer
not to spring, without waiting for orders, to the rescue of a
fellow-creature whom he sees sinking in the waves, at whatever hazard
to himself or to others; but I speak of that senseless, blindfold
style in which I have very often witnessed men pitch themselves into
the water, without knowing whether the person who had fallen overboard
was within their reach or not. Even in highly-disciplined ships this
will sometimes take place; and the circumstances which increase the
danger seem only to stimulate the boldest spirits to brave the risk. I
conceive there is no method of putting a stop to the practice but by
positively enjoining the people not to go overboard, unless expressly
ordered; and by explaining to them on every occasion when the ship's
company are exercised for this purpose, that the difficulty of picking
a man up is generally much augmented by such indiscreet zeal.
The following incidents occurred in a frigate off Cape Horn, in a gale
of wind, under close-reefed main-topsail and storm-staysails. At
half-past twelve at noon, when the people were at dinner, a young lad
was washed out of the lee fore-channels. The life-buoy was immediately
let go, and the main-topsail laid to the mast. Before the jolly-boat
could be lowered down, a man jumped overboard, as he said,
"promiscuously," for he never saw the boy at all, nor was he ever
within half-a-cable's length of the spot where he was floundering
about. Although the youth could not swim, he contrived to keep his
head above water till the boat reached him, just as he was beginning
to sink. The man who had jumped into the sea was right glad to give up
his "promiscuous" search, and to make for the life-buoy, upon which he
perched himself, and stood shivering for half-an-hour, like a shag on
the Mewstone, till the boat came to his relief.
At four o'clock of the same day a man fell from the rigging; the usual
alarm and rush took place; the lee-quarter boat was so crowded that
one of the topping lifts gave way, the davit broke, and the cutter,
now suspended by one tackle, soon knocked herself to pieces against
the ship's side. Of course, the people in her were jerked out very
quickly, so that, instead of there being only one man in the water,
there were nearly a dozen swimming about. More care was taken in
hoisting out another boat, and, strange to say, all the people were
picked up, except the original unfortunate man, who, but for the
accident, which ought to have been prevented, would in all probability
have been saved. Neither he nor the life-buoy, however, could be
discovered before the night closed.
The life-buoy at present in use on board his Majesty's ships, and, I
trust, in most merchant ships, has an admirable contrivance connected
with it, which has saved many lives, when otherwise there would hardly
have been a chance of the men being rescued from a watery grave.
This life-buoy, which is the invention of Lieutenant Cook of the Navy,
consists of two hollow copper vessels connected together, each about
as large as an ordinary-sized pillow, and of buoyancy and capacity
sufficient to support one man standing upon them. Should there be more
than one person requiring support, they can lay hold of rope beckets
fitted to the buoy, and so sustain themselves. Between the two copper
vessels there stands up a hollow pole, or mast, into which is
inserted, from below, an iron rod, whose lower extremity is loaded
with lead, in such a manner, that when the buoy is let go the iron rod
slips down to a certain extent, lengthens the lever, and enables the
lead at the end to act as ballast. By this means the mast is kept
upright, and the buoy prevented from upsetting. The weight at the end
of the rod is arranged so as to afford secure footing for two persons,
should that number reach it; and there are also, as I said before,
large rope beckets, through which others can thrust their head and
shoulders, till assistance is rendered.
On the top of the mast is fixed a port-fire, calculated to burn, I
think, twenty minutes, or half-anhour; this is ignited most
ingeniously by the same process which lets the buoy down into the
water. So that a man falling overboard at night is directed to the
buoy by the blaze on the top of its pole or mast, and the boat sent to
rescue him also knows in what direction to pull. Even supposing,
however, the man not to have gained the life-buoy, it is clear that,
if above the surface at all, he must be somewhere in that
neighbourhood; and if he shall have gone down, it is still some
satisfaction, by recovering the buoy, to ascertain that the poor
wretch is not left to perish by inches.
The method by which this excellent invention is attached to the ship,
and dropped into the water in a single instant, is perhaps not the
least ingenious part of the contrivance. The buoy is generally fixed
amidships over the stern, where it is held securely in its place by
being strung, or threaded, as it were, on two strong perpendicular
iron rods fixed to the taffrail, and inserted in holes piercing the
framework of the buoy. The apparatus is kept in its place by what is
called a slip-stopper, a sort of catch-bolt or detent, which can be
unlocked at pleasure, by merely pulling a trigger. Upon withdrawing
the stopper, the whole machine slips along the rods, and falls at once
into the ship's wake. The trigger which unlocks the slip-stopper is
furnished with a lanyard, passing through a hole in the stern, and
having at its inner end a large knob, marked "Life-Buoy;" this alone
is used in the day-time. Close at hand is another wooden knob, marked
"Lock," fastened to the end of a line fixed to the trigger of a
gunlock primed with powder: and so arranged, that, when the line is
pulled, the port-fire is instantly ignited, while, at the same
moment, the life-buoy descends, and floats merrily away, blazing like
a lighthouse. It would surely be an improvement to have both these
operations always performed simultaneously, that is, by one pull of
the string. The port-fire would thus be lighted in every case of
letting go the buoy; and I suspect the smoke in the day-time would
often be as useful in guiding the boat, as the blaze always is at
night.
The gunner who has charge of the life-buoy lock sees it freshly and
carefully primed every evening at quarters, of which he makes a report
to the captain. In the morning the priming is taken out, and the lock
uncocked. During the night a man is always stationed at this part of
the ship, and every half-hour, when the bell strikes, he calls out
"Life-buoy!" to show that he is awake and at his post, exactly in the
same manner as the look-out-men abaft, on the beam, and forward, call
out "Starboard quarter!" "Starboard gangway!" "Starboard bow!" and so
on, completely round the ship, to prove that they are not napping.
After all, however, it must be owned, that some of the most important
considerations, when a man falls overboard, have as yet scarcely been
mentioned. These are,--
First, the quickest and most effectual method of arresting the ship's
progress, and how to keep her as near the spot where the man fell as
possible.
Secondly, to preserve entire, during these evolutions, the general
discipline of the ship, to maintain silence, and to enforce the most
prompt obedience, without permitting foolhardy volunteering of any
kind.
Thirdly, to see that the boat appointed to be employed on these
occasions is secured in such a manner that she may be cast loose in a
moment, and, when ready for lowering down, that she is properly
manned, and fitted, so as to be efficient in all respects when she
reaches the water.
Fourthly, to take care in lowering the boat neither to stave nor to
swamp her, nor to pitch the men out.
And, lastly, to have a sufficient number of the sharpest-sighted men
in the ship stationed aloft in such a manner as to give them the best
chance, not only of discovering the person who is overboard, but of
pointing him out to the people in the boat, who may not otherwise know
in what direction to pull.
It is conceived that all these objects may be accomplished with very
little, if any, additional trouble, in all tolerably well-disciplined
ships.
Various opinions prevail amongst officers as to the first point; but,
I think, the best authorities recommend that, if possible, the ship
should not merely be hove aback when a man falls overboard, but that
she ought to be brought completely round on the other tack. Of course,
sail should be shortened in stays, and the main-yard left square. This
plan implies the ship being on a wind, or from that position to having
the wind not above two points abaft the beam. But, on one tack or the
other, this will include a large portion of the sailing of every ship.
The great merit of such a method of proceeding is, that, if the
evolution succeeds, the ship, when round, will drift right down
towards the man; and, although there may be some small risk in
lowering the boat in stays, from the ship having at one period
stern-way, there will, in fact, be little time lost if the boat be
not lowered till the ship be well round, and the stern-way at an end.
There is more mischief done, generally, by lowering the boat too soon,
than by waiting till the fittest moment arrives for doing it coolly;
and it cannot be too often repeated, that almost the whole depends
upon the self-possession of the officer of the watch. This important
quality is best taught by experience, that is to say, by a thorough
and familiar practical knowledge of what should be done under all
circumstances. The officer in command of the deck ought to let it be
seen and felt, by his tone of voice, and by the judicious promptness
of his orders, that he, at least, is perfectly master of himself, and
knows distinctly what course it is best to adopt.
If the ship be running before the wind, or be sailing large, and under
a press of sail, the officer must exercise his judgment in rounding
to, and take care in his anxiety to save the man, not to let the masts
go over the side, which will not advance, but defeat his object. If
the top-gallant-sheets, the topsail, and top-gallant-haulyards, be let
fly, and the head-yards braced quickly up, the ship when brought to
the wind will be nearly in the situation of reefing topsails. Under
these circumstances, it will hardly be possible to bring her about,
for, long before she can have come head to wind, her way will be so
much deadened that the rudder may have ceased to act. Still, however,
I am so strong an advocate for the principle of tacking, instead of
merely lying-to, when a man is overboard, that, even under the
circumstances above described, as soon as the boat is lowered down and
sent off, and the extra sail gathered in, I would fill, stand on till
the ship had gained head-way enough to render the evolution certain,
and then go about, so as to bring her head towards the boat. It must
be recollected, that when a ship is going well off the wind, in the
manner here supposed, it is impossible to round her so quickly as to
replace her on the spot where the man fell; to reach which a great
sweep must always be made. But there seems to me no doubt, that, in
every possible case, even when going right before it, the ship will
always drift nearer and nearer to that spot, if eventually brought to
the wind on the opposite tack from that on which she was luffed up.
It will conduce greatly to the success of these measures, if it be an
established rule, that, whenever the alarm is given of a man being
overboard, the people, without further orders, fly to their appointed
stations for tacking ship; and that only those persons who shall be
specifically selected to man and lower down the boats, and for other
duties, shall presume to quit the places assigned to them on going
about. It so happens that when the men are in their stations for
tacking, they are almost equally in their stations for shortening
sail, or for performing most other evolutions likely to become
necessary at such moments.
The excepted men should consist of at least two boats' crews in each
watch, and of others whose sole duty it should be to attend to the
operation of lowering the boats, into which no men but those expressly
appointed should ever be allowed to enter. These persons, selected for
their activity, strength, and coolness, should belong to the
after-guard, main and mizen-top, and gunner's crew, men whose duties
lie chiefly abaft or about the mainmast. Midshipmen in each watch
should also be named to the different boats; and their orders ought to
be positive never to allow more than the proper crew to enter, nor on
any account to permit the boat to be lowered till fully and properly
manned. I grant that it requires no small nerve to sanction the delays
which an attention to these minute particulars demands; but the
adequate degree of faith in their utility will bring with it the
requisite share of decision, to possess which, under all
circumstances, is, perhaps, one of the most characteristic
distinctions of a good commanding officer.
There ought, in every ship, to be selected a certain number of the
sharpest-sighted persons, who should be instructed, the instant the
alarm is given, to repair to stations appointed for them aloft.
Several of these ought to plant themselves in the lower rigging, some
in the topmast shrouds, and one, if not two, might advantageously be
perched on each of the cross-trees. Those persons, whose exclusive
duty is to discover the man who is overboard, should be directed to
look out, some in the ship's wake, some on either side of it, and to
be particularly careful to mark the spot near which the ship must have
been when he fell, in order that when she comes about, and drifts near
the place, they may know where to direct their attention, and also to
take care that the ship does not forge directly upon the object they
are seeking for. The chief advantage of having look-out-men stationed
aloft in this manner consists in their commanding a far better
position compared to that of persons on deck, and still better when
compared to the people in the boat; besides which, having this object
alone to attend to, they are less likely to be unsuccessful.
Moreover, from their being in considerable numbers, and scattered at
different elevations, their chances are, of course, much increased of
discovering so small an object as a man on the surface.
The people in the boat possess no such advantages, for they are
occupied with their oars, and lose between the seas all sight of the
surrounding objects near them, while they can always see the ship's
masts; and as soon as they detect that any one of the look-out-men
sees the person who is overboard, and points in the proper direction
for them to pull, they can shape their course accordingly. Presently
another look-out, instructed by the first where to direct his eyes,
also discovers the man; then another sees him, then another, and so
on, till all who are aloft obtain sight of the desired object, and
join in pointing with their hands to where it is to be found. The
officer in the boat, thus instructed by innumerable pointers, rows at
once, and with confidence, in the proper direction, and the drowning
man is often rescued from his deep-sea grave, when, had there been no
such look-outs, or had they been fewer in number or lower down, he
must have perished.
It is curious to observe the electric sort of style in which the
perception of an object, when once pointed out, flashes along from man
to man. As each in succession catches sight of his shipmate, he
exclaims, "There he is! there he is!" and holds out his hand in the
proper direction for the guidance of the boat. Indeed, I have seldom
witnessed a more interesting sight than that of eighty or a hundred
persons stationed aloft, straining their eyes to keep sight of a poor
fellow who is struggling for his life, and all eagerly extending
their hands towards him, as if they could clutch him from the waves.
To see these hands drop again is inexpressibly painful, from its
indicating that the unfortunate man is no longer distinguishable. One
by one the arms fall down, reluctantly, as if it were a signal that
all hope was over. Presently the boat is observed to range about at
random; the look-out-men aloft, when repeatedly hailed and asked, "if
they see anything like him?" are all silent. Finally, the boat's
recall-flag is hoisted, sail is again made on the ship, the people are
piped down, and this tragical little episode in the voyage being
concluded, everything goes on as before.
CHAPTER X.
SUNDAY ON BOARD A MAN-OF-WAR.--MUSTERING BY DIVISIONS.
The first article of war runs as follows:--"All commanders, captains,
and officers, in or belonging to any of His Majesty's ships or vessels
of war, shall cause the public worship of Almighty God, according to
the Liturgy of the Church of England established by law, to be
solemnly, orderly, and reverently performed in their respective ships;
and shall take care that prayers and preaching, by the chaplains in
holy orders of the respective ships, be performed diligently, and that
the Lord's day be observed according to law."
The precision with which these injunctions are attended to will depend
chiefly on three things:--The personal disposition of the captain; the
nature of the service upon which the ship is employed; and the state
of the weather. It is nearly always in the captain's power to make the
Sunday a day of rest to the people committed to his charge. Sooner or
later he is sure to reap the fruits of his conduct in this matter, and
is made to feel, that, to command the respect or to win the regard of
his crew, he must show them, on all ordinary occasions, that he is
himself under the guidance of right principles. In the same spirit,
his authority will be strengthened by every touch of consideration
with which the inevitable sternness of his rule is softened; and the
more he manages to impart to all such indulgences the character of
routine, or matters of course and constant usage, so much the better.
We feel obliged to a person who confers almost any favour upon us; but
if this favour be one of daily or weekly occurrence, and, at each time
of its concession, we are reminded of the weight of our obligation,
all kindliness is in danger of being removed from it, and we would
sometimes rather go without than hold the advantage by a tenure thus
avowedly capricious.
A captain of sense and feeling, therefore, makes it his business, in
the first place, to find out what is right and proper, consistently
with the rules of the service, and then to ascertain how far the
peculiar nature of the employment upon which the ship is engaged will
admit of indulgences. Having settled with himself what is possible to
be done with propriety, he should grant it not as a matter of personal
favour, but simply because it is fitting in itself.
It is not possible, at sea, to comply to the letter with the fourth
commandment; but we have no right on that account to dispense with its
spirit, which is at all times and in all places within every man's
reach. The absolute necessity, however, of performing some work,
appears a sufficient reason with many people for doing away with the
ordinance of Sunday altogether, and converting it into a day of hard
and irksome toil, instead of a season of at least comparative rest. On
the other hand, some officers either allow essential public interests
to be neglected which ought to be attended to, or they harass their
people by exacting more attention to religious observances than the
poor sailors can bestow with any chance of profit. Which of these
courses is the worst, I really cannot say. If Sunday be made a working
day, and no attention is paid to its appropriate duties, the crew are
by no means satisfied, and but too readily contract, by degrees, the
habit of neglecting their obligations both to God and man. On the
contrary, if the day be entirely taken up with devotional exercises,
to the fatigue of their minds and bodies, they are exceedingly apt,
after a time, to vote the "whole concern," as they call it, a bore,
and to make up for this forced attention by the most scandalous
indecencies, when out of sight of their "psalm-singing captain."
I would accordingly recommend every officer in command of a ship to
bring as many of the arrangements of his Sunday as possible into a
jog-trot order, not to be departed from unless there should arise an
absolute necessity for such deviation. Nineteen Sundays might, indeed,
pass over without any apparent advantage being gained from this
uniformity, but on the twentieth some opportunity might occur, of
infinite value to all concerned, which opportunity might, in all
probability, prove unavailing but for the previous preparation. To
borrow a professional illustration of the most familiar kind; it may
be asked, how many hundred times do we exercise the great guns and
small arms, for once that we fire them in real action? And why should
it be supposed that, for the useful application of our mental
energies to the most important of all warfare, habitual training is
less necessary?
Without going needlessly deep into these speculations, I may observe
that, even in the least regularly disciplined ships, there is now a
marked difference between Sunday and any other day in the week.
Although the grand object seems to be to have everything as clean as
possible, and in its most apple-pie order, great part of the labour
employed to produce this result is over before Sunday arrives. The
decks, for instance, receive such a thorough allowance of holy-stoning
and scrubbing on Saturday, that a mere washing, with perhaps a slight
touch of the brushes and sand, brings them into the milk-white
condition which is the delight of every genuine first lieutenant's
heart. All this is got over early in the morning, in order that the
decks may be swabbed up and the ropes nicely flemished down before
seven bells, at which time it is generally thought expedient to go to
breakfast, though half-an-hour sooner than usual, in order to make the
forenoon as long as possible. I should have mentioned that the
hammocks are always piped up at seven o'clock. If they have been slung
overnight, they are as white as any laundress could have made them;
and, of course, the hammock-stowers take more than ordinary care to
place them neatly in the nettings, with their bright numbers turned
inwards, all nicely lashed up with the regulated proportion of turns,
each hammock being of a uniform size from end to end.
While the people are at breakfast, the word is passed to "clean for
muster," in any dress the commanding officer may think most suitable
to the climate or weather. Between the tropics, the order for rigging
in frocks and trousers is generally delivered in these words:--
"Do you hear, there! fore and aft! Clean for muster at five
bells--duck frocks and white trousers!"
In colder regions, it is "Blue jackets and trousers;" and in rainy,
cold, or blowing weather, the following order is sung out along the
lower deck, first by the husky-throated boatswain, and then in a still
rougher enunciation by his gruff satellites, the boatswain's mates:--
"D'ye hear, there! Clean shirt and a shave for muster at five bells!"
Twice a week, on Thursdays and Sundays, the operation of shaving is
held to be necessary. These are called "clean-shirt days." Mondays and
Fridays are the days appointed for washing the clothes.
It is usual to give the men three quarters, instead of half-an-hour to
breakfast on Sundays, that they may have time to rig themselves in
proper trim before coming on deck. The watch, therefore, is called at
a quarter-past eight, or it may be one bell, which is half-past. The
forenoon watch bring their clothes-bags up with them, in order that
they may not be again required to leave the deck before muster. The
bags are piled in neat pyramids, or in other forms, sometimes on the
booms before the boats, and sometimes in a square mass on the after
part of the quarter-deck of a frigate. It strikes my recollection that
in most ships there is a sort of difficulty in finding a good place on
which to stow the bags.
As soon as the forenoon watch is called, the between decks, on which
the men live, is carefully cleaned, generally by what is called dry
holy-stoning. This is done by rubbing the deck with small smooth
pieces of freestone, after a layer of well-dried sand has been
sprinkled over it. This operation throws up a good deal of dust; but
it makes the deck white, which is the grand point aimed at. The wings,
the store-rooms, and the cockpits, undergo a similar dose of rubbing
and scrubbing; in short, every hole and corner of the decks, both
above and below stairs, as folks on shore would say, is swept, and
swept, and swept again, on a Sunday morning, till the panting sweepers
are half dead; indeed, the rest of the ship's company are worried out
of all patience, from eight o'clock to half-past ten, with the eternal
cry of "Pipe the sweepers!" followed by a sharp, interrupted whistle,
not unlike the note of a pet canary.
What with cleaning the decks and cleaning themselves, the watch below
have fully enough to do to get all ready by five bells. It must be
remembered, too, that they have had the morning watch to keep, since
four o'clock, and the whole trouble of washing the upper decks,
shaking out the reefs, stowing the hammocks, and coiling down the
ropes; all easy matters of routine, it is true, but still sufficiently
tiresome when multiplied so often.
At the appointed hour of half-past ten, to a single stroke of the
bell, the mate of the watch, directed by the officer on deck, who
again acts in obedience to the captain's orders, conveyed to him by
the first lieutenant, calls out,--
"Beat to divisions!"
It should have been stated, that, before this period arrives, the
mate of the decks and the mate of the hold, the boatswain, gunner, and
carpenter, have all severally received reports from their subordinates
that their different departments are in proper order for inspection.
Reports to the same effect being then finally made to the first
lieutenant by the mates and warrant-officers, he himself goes round
the ship to see that all is right and tight, preparatory to the grand
inspection. I ought also to have mentioned that the bags of the watch
below are piped up at ten o'clock, so that nothing remains between
decks but the mess-tables, stools, and the soup and grog kids. Long
before this hour, the greater number of the whole ship's company have
dressed themselves and are ready for muster; but the never-ending
sweepers, the fussy warrant-officers' yeomen, the exact purser's
steward, the slovenly midshipmen's boy, the learned loblolly boy, and
the interminable host of officers' servants, who have always fifty
extra things to do, are often so sorely pressed for time, that at the
first tap of the drum beating to divisions, these idlers, as they are
technically much miscalled, may often be seen only then lugging their
shirts over their heads, or hitching up their trousers in all the
hurry-scurry of a lower-deck toilet. I should have recorded that in
the ship's head, as well as on the fore-part of the main-deck, and
likewise between the guns, chiefly those abreast of the fore-hatchway,
there have been groups assembled to scrape and polish themselves ever
since breakfast-time, and even before it. Some are washing themselves;
others cutting, and combing, and trimming their hair; for, now-a-days,
there are none of those huge long tails, or club ties, which descended
along the back of the sailors who fought with Benbow and Rodney. The
dandyism of Jack has now taken another turn, and the knowing thing at
present is to have a parcel of ringlets hanging from the temples
almost to the collar-bone. Some of the youngest and best-looking of
the foretop-men would also very fain indulge in the feminine foppery
of ear-rings; but in the British Navy this is absolutely forbidden.
I remember once, on the beach of Madras, witnessing an amusing scene
between Sir Samuel Hood, then commander-in-chief in India, and the
newly-promoted boatswain of a sloop-of-war belonging to the squadron.
The Admiral, who was one of the bravest, and kindest, and
truest-hearted seamen that ever trod a ship's decks, was a sworn foe
to all trickery in dress. The eye of the veteran officer was directed
earnestly towards the yeast of waves, which in immense double rows of
surf, fringe and guard the whole of that flat coast. He was watching
the progress of a Massullah boat, alternately lost in the foam, and
raised in very uncertain balance across the swell, which, though just
on the break, brought her swiftly towards the shore. He felt more
anxious than usual about the fate of this particular boat, from having
ordered on shore the person alluded to, with whom he wished to have
some conversation previous to their parting company. This boatswain
was a young man, who had been for some years a follower of the Admiral
in different ships, and to whom he had just given a warrant. The poor
fellow, unexpectedly promoted from before the mast to the rank of a
warrant-officer, was trigged out in his newly-bought, but marvellously
ill-cut uniform, shining like a new dollar, and making its wearer,
who for the first time in his life had put on a long coat, feel not a
little awkward.
As soon as the boat was partly driven up the beach by the surf, and
partly dragged beyond the dash of the breakers by the crowd on shore,
this happiest of warrant-officers leaped out on the sand, and seeing
the Admiral above him, standing on the crest of the natural glacis
which lines the shore, he took off his hat, smoothed down the hair on
his forehead, sailor fashion, and stood uncovered, in spite of the
roasting sun flaming in the zenith.
The Admiral, of course, made a motion with his hand for the boatswain
to put his hat on; but the other, not perceiving the signal, stood
stock-still.
"I say, put on your hat!" called the commander-in-chief, in a tone
which made the newly-created warrant start. In his agitation he shook
a bunch of well-trimmed ringlets a little on one side, and betrayed to
the flashing eyes of the Admiral a pair of small round silver
ear-rings, the parting gift, doubtless, of some favoured and favouring
"Poll or Bess" of dear, old, blackguard Point Beach. Be this as it
may, the Admiral, first stepping on one side, and then holding his
head forward, as if to re-establish the doubting evidence of his
horrified senses, and forcibly keeping down the astonished seaman's
hat with his hand, roared out,--
"Who the devil are you?"
"John Marline, sir!" replied the bewildered boatswain, beginning to
suspect the scrape he had got himself into.
"Oh!" cried the flag-officer, with a scornful laugh. "Oh! I beg your
pardon; I took you for a Portuguese."
"No, sir!" instinctively faltered out the other, seeing the Admiral
expected some reply.
"No! Then, if you are not a foreigner, why do you hoist false colours?
What business has an English sailor with these d----d machines in his
ears?"
"I don't know, sir," said poor Marline. "I put them in only this
morning, when I rigged myself in my new togs to answer the signal on
shore."
"Then," said Sir Samuel, softened by the contrite look of his old
shipmate, and having got rid of the greater portion of his bile by the
first explosion, "you will now proceed to unrig yourself of this top
hamper as fast as you can; pitch them into the surf if you like; but
never, as you respect the warrant in your pocket, let me see you in
that disguise again."
When the drum beats the well-known "_Generale_," the ship's company
range themselves in a single line along both sides of the
quarter-deck, the gangways, and all round the forecastle. In a
frigate, the whole crew may be thus spread out on the upper deck
alone; but in line-of-battle ships the numbers are so great that
similar ranges, each consisting of a division, are likewise formed on
the opposite sides of the main-deck. The marines, under arms, and in
full uniform, fall in at the after-part of the quarter-deck; while the
ship's boys, under the master-at-arms, with his ratan in hand, muster
on the forecastle.
In some ships the men are sized, as it is called, the tallest being
placed at the after-end, and so on down to the most diminutive, who is
fixed at the extremity. But this arrangement, being more of a
military than of a naval cast, is rarely adopted now-a-days. It will
seldom happen, indeed, that the biggest and burliest fellows in a
ship's company are the leading men. They may chance, indeed, to be
poulterers, cook's mates, or fit only to make sweepers of; personages
who after a three years' station barely know the stem from the stern,
and could no more steer the ship than they could take a lunar
distance. Officers, however, on first joining a ship, are very apt to
be guilty of some injustice towards the people by judging of them too
hastily from appearance alone. We are insensibly so much prepossessed
in favour of a fine, tall, good-looking sailor-lad, and prejudiced
against a grizzled, crooked, little wretch, that if both happen to be
brought before us for the same offence, we almost instinctively commit
the injustice of condemning the ugly fellow, and acquitting the
smart-looking one, before a tithe of the evidence has reached our
ears.
Leaving these speculative questions, however, for the present, let us
return to the divisions, which are arranged along the deck, not, as
formerly, by sizes, but, in the proper way, by the watch-bill. The
forecastle-men, of course, come first, as they stand so in the lists
by which they are mustered at night by the mate of the watch; then the
foretop men, and so on to the gunners, after-guard, and waisters.
Each division is under charge of a lieutenant, who, as well as the
midshipmen of his division, appears in full uniform. The people are
first mustered by the young gentlemen, and then carefully inspected by
the officer of the division, who sees that every man is dressed
according to order, and that he is otherwise in proper trim. It is
also usual in hot climates for the surgeon and his assistants to pass
along the lines, to ascertain, partly by the men's looks, and partly
by an examination of their limbs, that no traces of scurvy have begun
to show themselves.
While the mustering and inspecting of the divisions is going on, the
captain paces the quarter-deck, in company with the first lieutenant.
No other voices are heard except theirs, and that of the midshipmen
calling over the names of the men, or the officers putting some
interrogatory about a spot of tar on a pair of duck trousers, or an
ill-mended hole in the sleeve of a shirt. In a few minutes even these
sounds are hushed, and nothing is distinguishable fore and aft but the
tread of the respective officers, on their way aft to report to the
captain on the quarter-deck that all are present, properly dressed,
and clean, at their different divisions. The marine officer likewise
makes a report of his party and their equipments. The first lieutenant
now turns to the captain, takes off his hat, and says,--
"All the officers have reported, sir."
To which the other replies,--
"We'll go round the ship, then, if you please;" and off they trudge,
after leaving the deck in charge of the second lieutenant, or the
master, as may be determined upon at the moment.
As the captain approaches the first division, he is received by the
officer commanding it, who touches his hat, and then falls into the
train behind. Of course, the moment the skipper appears, the men along
the whole line take off their hats, smooth down their locks, make many
clumsy efforts to stand erect, fumble interminably with the waistband
of their trousers, and shuffle, to more or less purpose, according to
the motion of the ship, to maintain their toes exactly at the line or
seam in the deck along which they have been cautioned twenty times
they are to stand. The captain, as he moves slowly past, eyes each man
from head to foot, and lets nothing pass of which he disapproves. The
officer of the division is ready to explain, or to take a note of what
alteration is required; but supposing all to be right, not a syllable
is spoken, and at the end of the division the captain again touches
his hat to the officer, who returns the salute, and remains with his
people.
He then proceeds to the forecastle, at the break of which he is
received by the three warrant-officers, the boatswain, gunner, and
carpenter, in their best coats, cut after the fashion of the year one,
broad-tailed, musty, and full of creases from bad packing and little
use, and blazing from top to bottom with a double-tiered battery of
buttons of huge dimensions. Behind these worthy personages, who seldom
look much at home in their finery, stands the master-at-arms, in front
of his troop of troublesome small fry, known by the name of the ship's
boys, destined in good time to be sailors, and perhaps amongst the
best and truest that we ever number in our crews.
In this way, in short, it is a most important, and almost an
imperative duty, on the officers of every man-of-war, to ascertain, by
actual investigation, how far their people are entitled to the ratings
they claim. If we do not see to this, we are perpetually misapplying
the resources of the nation, by mistaking their true quality.
I should have mentioned, that before leaving the upper deck the
captain proceeds to inspect the marines, who are drawn up across or
along the quarter-deck abaft. Most captains think it both judicious
and kind to visit the marines first, and I have never seen this
practice adopted without manifest advantage. The marines are excellent
fellows, well-trained, hardy, cheerful, duly respecting themselves,
and proud of their service: while, from belonging to a fixed corps,
and from not being liable to be perpetually disbanded and scattered,
they acquire a permanent interest, or an inherent _esprit de corps_,
as well as a permanent footing in the Navy. In like manner, the marine
officers constitute one of the most gentleman-like bodies of men in
the King's service. They are thoroughly imbued with all the high
sentiments of honour belonging to the military character; and they
possess, moreover, in a very pleasant degree, the freedom of manner
and versatility of habits peculiar to those who go down to the sea in
ships.
The utility of this important body of men on board a man-of-war is so
great, that it becomes the duty of every lover of the profession to
support all its ranks and classes, and to render their situation when
afloat one of respectability, happiness, and contentment. In speaking
of the utility of the jolly marines, as they are kindly enough called
by the sailors, who, in spite of all their quizzing, really esteem
their pipe-clayed shipmates, I refer less to their services in action,
than to their inestimable value in sustaining the internal discipline
of the service. The manner in which this is brought about forms one of
the most interesting peculiarities in the whole range of naval
affairs; but it deserves to be treated of separately, and at length.
The two divisions ranged along the main-deck, supposing the ship's
company so distributed, next engage the captain's attention. I think
it is usual to take that first which stands on the starboard side of
the deck, with the after-end, or its left, as military men would say,
close against the bulkhead of the captain's cabin, while the foremost
men of the division extend under the forecastle. On arriving at the
galley or kitchen, the captain is received by the cook (or as much as
may be left of him, according to the Greenwich Hospital joke), behind
whom stands his mate, generally a tall, glossy, powerful negro, who,
unlike his chief, has always a full allowance of limbs, with a round
and shining face, about as moist as one of the tubful of huge suet
puddings, tied up in bags alongside of him. The cook, aided by
"Quamino," lifts the lids off the coppers, that the captain may peer
into them, and ascertain whether or not all is clean and nice. With
the end of his wooden leg the cook then gives a twist to the cock of
the coppers, to let some of the pease-soup in preparation run off and
show itself to the noble commander's inspection. The oven-doors are
next opened, the range or large fire stirred up, and every hole and
corner exposed to view; the object of the grand visitation being to
see that this essential department of the ship is in the most perfect
state of cleanliness and good order.
Still further forward, before the galley, in the very nose of her, as
the foremost nook or angle of the ship is called, and a little on one
side, lies the sick-bay, or hospital; at the door of which the
surgeon, backed by his assistants, receives the captain and his double
the first lieutenant, and his double the mate of the main-deck. In
they march, all in a row. The captain takes care not to pass any
invalid's hammock without dropping a word of encouragement to its pale
inmate, or begging to be informed if anything further can be done to
make him comfortable. Only those men who are very unwell, however, are
found in their beds; the rest being generally seated on the chests and
boxes placed round the bay, a part of the ship which, I need scarcely
mention, is kept, if possible, more clean, airy, and tidy than any
other. If a speck of dirt be found on the deck, or a gallipot or phial
out of its place, woe betide the loblolly-boy, the assistant-surgeon's
assistant, and the constant attendant upon the hospital. This
personage is usually a fellow of some small knowledge of reading and
writing, who, by overhearing the daily clinical lectures of the
doctor, contrives to pick up a smattering of medical terms, which he
loses no opportunity of palming off upon his messmates below as
sublime wisdom sucked in at Alma Mater.
Just before leaving the sick-bay, the captain generally turns to the
surgeon, and says, as a matter of course, "Doctor, mind you always
send aft at dinner-time for anything and everything you require for
the sick;" and I have frequently remarked that his whole tone and
manner are greatly softened during this part of the rounds, perhaps
without his being conscious of any difference. A very small share of
attention on the part of a commanding-officer on such occasions, if
kindly and unaffectedly exercised, leaves a wonderfully favourable
impression, not only among the invalids to whom it is more
particularly addressed, but seldom fails to extend its salutary
influence over the rest of the ship's company, and thus, of course,
contributes materially to strengthen and to maintain his authority.
Such expressions of sympathy never fail to act like drops of oil on
the machinery of discipline, making all its wheels work smoothly and
sweetly.
The lower deck is next examined. The bags have been carried on deck,
so that, as I mentioned before, nothing remains but the people's
mess-tables and mess things, their kids, and crockery. As Jack is
mighty fond of a bit of show in his way, many of the berths or
mess-places exhibit goodly ranges of tea-cups and regiments of plates
worthy of the celebrated Blue Posts Tavern, occasionally flanked by a
huge tea-pot, famously emblazoned with yellow dragons and imitation
Chinese. The intervals between the shelves are generally ornamented
with a set of pictures of rural innocence, where shepherds are seen
wooing shepherdesses, balanced by representations of not quite such
innocent Didos weeping at the Sally Port, and waving their lily hands
to departing sailor-boys. On the topmost-shelf stands, or is tied to
the side, a triangular piece of a mirror, three inches perhaps by
three, extremely useful in adjusting the curls of our nautical
coxcombs, of whom one at least is to be found in every berth.
The mess-tables, which are kept so bright you would suppose them
whitewashed, are hooked to the ship's side at one end, while the other
is suspended by small ropes covered with white canvas. Against these
lines rest the soup and grog kids, shining in a double row along the
deck, which is lighted up, fore and aft, for the captain's visit, by a
candle in each berth. In frigates it is usual, I believe, to let the
people have a certain number of chests, besides their bags. These not
only form convenient seats for the men at meals, and couches on which
to stretch their worn-out limbs during the watch below, but they
afford a place in which the sailors may stow away some part of their
best attire, deposit their little knick-knacks, and here and there a
book, or mayhap a love-letter, or some cherished love-token. A chest,
in short, or the share of a chest, even though it be only a quarter,
or a sixth part, is always so great a comfort that this indulgence
ought to be granted when it can possibly be allowed. In single-decked
ships, I conceive it may generally be permitted: in a line-of-battle
ship hardly ever. In a frigate, as there are no guns on the lower
deck, where the people mess and sleep, there is nothing to clear away
on coming into action; but in a ship of the line the men pass their
whole lives amongst the guns, by night as well as by day, and as it is
absolutely necessary to keep every part ready for action at an
instant's warning, nothing can be allowed to remain between the guns
but such articles as may be carried out of the way in a moment. It is
sometimes nonsensical, and even cruel, to carry this system into a
frigate, where the same necessity for keeping the space unencumbered
does not exist. Doubtless the mate of the lower deck, and often enough
the first lieutenant, and sometimes even the captain, will be anxious
to break up all the men's chests, in order to have a clear-looking,
open, airy, between-decks, to make a show of; but with proper care it
may be kept almost as clear and quite as clean with a couple of chests
in each berth as without. Even were it otherwise, we ought, I think,
rather to give up a little appearance to secure so great a share of
comfort to those who, at best, are not overburdened with luxuries.
As the captain walks aft, along the lower deck, he comes to the
midshipmen's berth, or room, in which the youngsters mess. It is the
foremost and largest of a range of cabins built up on each side, and
reaching as far aft as the gun-room, or mess-place of the commissioned
officers. It is only in line-of-battle ships that the mids mess in the
cockpit; while in frigates they not merely mess but sleep in the part
of the lower deck called, I know not why, the steerage. I ought to
have mentioned that before the cabins of the officers, and abaft those
of the sailors, lie the berths of the marines; but, of course, those
mess-places of the men are not partitioned off, being merely denoted
by the tables and shelves. The boatswain, gunner, and carpenter, have
their cabins in the steerage.
The captain peeps into each of these dens as he moves along. In that
of the midshipmen he may probably find a youth with the
quarantine-flag up; that is, in the sick-list. His cue, we may
suppose, is always to look as miserable and woe-begone as possible. If
he have had a tussle with a messmate, and one or both his eyes are
bunged up in consequence, it costs him no small trouble to conceal his
disorderly misdeeds. It would be just as easy, in fact, to stop the
winds as to stop the use of fisty-cuffs amongst a parcel of
hot-blooded lads between thirteen and nineteen, although, of course,
such _rencontres_ are held to be contrary to the laws and customs used
at sea, and are punishable accordingly. The captain, pretending
ignorance, however, merely grins; and, without exposing the boy to
the necessity of getting up a story, remarks:--
"I suppose, Master Peppercorn, you fell down the after-hatchway
ladder, and struck your eye against the corner of a chest? Didn't you?
And, what is odd enough, I dare say, when I cross to the starboard
berth, I shall find Mr. Mustardseed, who has met with exactly the same
accident about the same time. What do yo think? Eh?"
"I don't know, sir," answers the badgered youngster; "Mr. Mustardseed
and I are not on speaking terms."
"Very likely not," chuckles the skipper, as he proceeds to thrust his
nose curiously into the warrant officers' little boxes. On arriving at
the gun-room, he merely glances, with a well-bred air of assumed
indifference, at the apartment of the officers, with whose habits and
arrangements he scarcely ever ventures to meddle. He next dives into
the cockpit, which in a frigate is used only for the purser's
store-room, leading to the bread-room, both of which he examines
carefully. The spirit-room hatchway, too, is lifted up for his
inspection, as well as that of the after-hold. He then takes a survey
of the cable tiers, which are lighted up for the occasion; as also
different store-rooms of the boatswain, gunner, and carpenter; all of
which ought to be objects of his particular care, for it is of great
consequence that every article they contain should not only have an
assigned and well-known place, but that it should actually be kept in
that place. It is, indeed, quite wonderful how much may be done in the
way of stowage by dint of good management. In a well-regulated ship,
there is not a bolt or a bar, nor any kind of tool belonging to the
carpenter, nor a single rope great or small; canvas fine as duck, or
coarse as No. 1, belonging to the boatswain; nor any description of
warlike store in charge of the gunner, which cannot instantly be laid
hold of, and conveyed in half-a-minute to any part of the ship, alow
or aloft.
At length, when every square inch of the holds, tiers, sail-rooms, and
all the cabins and berths below, have been examined, the visitation
party return to the quarter-deck, after a full half-hour's ramble. As
the captain re-ascends to the different decks in succession, the men,
who have never budged from their divisions, again pluck off their
hats, the marines carry arms the moment his head shows above the
coamings, and all the officers stop instantaneously in the middle of
their walk to salute their commander, as he once more treads the
quarter-deck.
"And now, sir," says the captain, turning to the first lieutenant, "if
you please we will rig the church."
CHAPTER XI.
THE SHIP CHURCH.
The carpenters and the watch on deck soon carry aft their benches and
mess-stools; but these not being sufficient to afford accommodation
for all hands, as many capstan-bars as may be required are likewise
brought up and placed athwart the quarter-deck, with their ends
resting on match-tubs and fire-buckets, or on the carronade-slides.
These seats occupy the whole of the space from the break of the
quarter-deck and the belaying bits round the mainmast, as far as the
companion-hatchway. Chairs from the cabin and gun-room are also placed
abaft all, for the captain and officers, and on the lee side for the
warrant-officers and mids; for it need scarcely be mentioned that due
subordination is made to keep its place even in our church.
The pulpit stands amidships, either on the after-gratings, or on the
deck immediately before the hatchway. In some ships, this part of the
nautical church establishment consists of a moveable reading-desk,
made expressly for the occasion, but brought up from the carpenter's
store-room only when wanted; sometimes one of the binnacles is used
for this purpose; and I remember a ship in which the prayer-book was
regularly laid on a sword-rack, or stand, holding six dozen naked
cutlasses. The desk is covered over with a signal-flag, as well as the
hassock for the chaplain to kneel upon, which is usually a grape or
canister shot-box, surmounted by a cheese of great-gun wads, to make
it soft.
All this implies that the weather is fine, the awnings spread
overhead, and the curtains stretched fore and aft, to keep out the
heat and glare. In rainy or blustering weather the church is rigged
under the half-deck, much in the same way, except that the pulpit is
placed between two of the guns, and generally on the larboard side, as
nearly abreast of the quarter-deck ladder as may be.
When all is ready, the bell is tolled by one of the quarter-masters;
and the crew, quietly clustering aft, occupy the bars, stools, planks,
and gun-slides, prepared for their accommodation. The marines range
themselves on the front seats; while the officers take their places,
of course not avowedly in the order of date in their commissions, but,
more or less, they do fall into their respective stations according to
seniority. The chaplain is now informed that every one is assembled;
or, if there be no clergyman on board, the report is made to the
captain, who generally officiates in that case. When the service
begins, if there be any other ship in company, a pendant, such as
men-of-war carry at their mast-head to distinguish them from
merchant-ships, is hoisted at the mizen peak, to show that the ship's
company are at prayers. This signal, which is kept flying during the
performance of divine service, is respected by every other ship,
whether commanded by a superior officer or not.
Besides the prayers, which, as I have already mentioned, are
"according to the Liturgy of the Church of England, established by
law," the chaplain gives a short discourse, not exceeding at most
twenty or twenty-five minutes in length. Some captains are in the
habit of reading a sermon; but more commonly, when there is no
clergyman on board, the prayers are deemed sufficient. These points,
as may be supposed, become frequent matters of discussion in the
fleet. I shall not enter into them further just now than by observing
that the majority of right-thinking officers appear to agree, that, if
the church service on board ship be not "solemnly, orderly, and
reverently performed," according to the terms and in the spirit of the
first article of war, it is either useless or worse than useless. It
ought therefore to take place as regularly and habitually as the
nature of the ship's duties will allow of. In the next place, it seems
clear, that if the service be rendered so long, or be otherwise so
conducted, as not to arrest the attention of the crew, or not to
maintain it alive when once fixed, it is too long.
I will venture to say, there is rarely to be met with anywhere a more
orderly or a more attentive congregation, in all respects, than on
board a man-of-war.
But, notwithstanding all Jack's decorum and his discipline, to say
nothing of his natural inclination, when duly encouraged, to reflect
seriously and properly on any subject, as he is made of ordinary flesh
and bones, his eyes will sometimes refuse to keep open under the
infliction of a dull or ill-delivered discourse; so that if the
person who officiates happens not to read very well, his best chance
for securing any useful attention consists in the brevity of his
prelections. If the quality, rather than the quantity, of instruction
be his object, he should be exceedingly careful not to fatigue his
hearers. The inverse rule of proportion obtains here with such
mortifying regularity, that the longer he makes the church service
beyond the mark of agreeable and easy attention, the more certain will
he be of missing his point.
The analogy, not to speak it profanely, between overloading a gun and
overloading a discourse applies especially to ship-preaching. Sailors
are such odd fellows that they are nowise moved by noise and smoke;
but they well know how to value a good aim, and always love and honour
a commanding-officer who truly respects their feelings, nor by means
of long-winded and ill-timed discourses, or what they irreverently
call psalm-singing, interferes too much with their religious concerns.
It would be easy, though perhaps rather invidious, to point out in
what other respects many officers are apt, besides the protracted
length of the church service on Sunday, to err in excess in these
matters. I am very sorry to say it would be still easier to show in
what respects all of us err in defect. I should rejoice much more in
being able to make officers who have not sufficiently reflected on
these things, duly sensible that it is quite as much to their
immediate professional advantage that the religious duties of their
ship should form an essential part of the discipline of the crew, and
be considered not less useful in a moral point of view, than rigging
the masts properly is to the nautical department of their command.
If, indeed, religion, when applied to the ordinary business of life,
should be found inconsistent with those moral obligations which are
dictated to us by conscience; or even were we to discover that the
ablest, most virtuous, and most successful person, amongst us were
uniformly despisers of religion, then there would certainly be some
explanation, not to say excuse, for young and inexperienced men
venturing to dispute on such subjects, and claiming the bold privilege
of absolutely independent thought and action. But surely there is
neither excuse nor explanation, nor indeed any sound justification
whatsoever, for the presumption of those who, in the teeth of all
experience and authority, not only trust themselves with the open
expression of these cavils, but, having settled the whole question in
their own way, take the hazardous line of recommending their daring
example to those around them. It is also material to recollect that
there is not a single point of duty in the whole range of the naval
profession, which, when well understood, may not be enforced with
greater efficiency by a strict adherence to the sanctions of religion,
than if it were attempted single-handed; so that most of the
objections which one hears made to the due performance of the church
service on board ship, on the score of its interfering with the
discipline, are quite absurd, and inapplicable to the circumstances of
the case.
The captain of a man-of-war, therefore, if his influence be as
well-founded as it ought, may, in this most material of all respects,
essentially supply the place of a parent to young persons, who must be
considered for the time virtually as orphans. He may very possibly
not be learned enough to lay before his large nautical family the
historical and other external evidences of Christianity, and, perhaps,
may have it still less in his power to make them fully aware of the
just force of its internal evidences; but he can seldom have any doubt
as to his duty in this case more than in any other department of the
weighty obligations with which he is charged; and if he cannot here,
as elsewhere, make the lads under his care see distinctly, in the
main, what course it best becomes them to follow, he is hardly fit for
his station. I freely own that it is far beyond his power to make them
pursue that line, if they choose to be perverse; but he will neglect
an important, I might add, a sacred and solemn part of his business,
if he leaves their minds more adrift on the score of religion than he
can possibly help. Their steering in this ticklish navigation, it is
true, depends upon their own prudence; but it is his bounden duty to
provide them with both a rudder and a compass, and also, as far as he
is able, to instruct them, like a good pilot, in the course they ought
to shape. The eventual success of the great voyage of life lies with
themselves; the captain's duty, as a moral commander-in-chief, is done
if he sets his juvenile squadron fairly under weigh. It is in vain to
conceal from ourselves, that, unless both officers and men can be
embodied more or less as a permanent corps, every ship that is
commissioned merely furnishes a sort of fresh experiment in naval
discipline. The officers are brought together without any previous
acquaintance with one another; and many of them, after a long
residence on shore, have lost most of their naval habits. The
sailors, being collected how and where we can get hold of them, are
too frequently the off-scourings and scum of society. With such a
heterogeneous crew, the first year is employed in teaching them habits
of cleanliness and common decency; and it is only in the third year of
their service that the ship becomes really efficient. Just as that
point has been reached, all hands are turned off, to make room for
another experiment. If a few active men of the crew have become better
sailors, they generally go into the merchant-service for higher wages;
while the officers are again laid on the shelf. Something has been
done lately to retain the petty officers in the navy, but perhaps not
enough. It has been suggested that, instead of giving men pensions for
long servitude, it might be more useful to allow their wages to
increase gradually year by year, at some small rate, and at the end of
fourteen years give them half-pay of the rating to which they had
reached, if they chose to retire.[5]
In returning to the subject of the church, it must be remembered that
the circumstances of wind and weather will often interfere with the
regularity of our Sunday service. In some parts of an Indian voyage,
for instance, it may be safely calculated that no interruption will
take place; while there occur other stages of the passage when Divine
service must of necessity be stopped, to shorten sail or trim the
yards. In peace-time, or in harbour, or in fine weather at sea, no
such teasing interference is likely to arise; but in war, and on board
a cruising ship, the public service frequently calls a ship's company
to exchange their Bibles and Prayer-books for the sponges and rammers.
The collect in which they have petitioned to be defended from the fear
of their enemies, and that their time might be passed in rest and
quietness, may hardly have passed their lips, before they are eagerly
and joyfully scampering up the rigging to shake the reefs out in chase
of an enemy, with whom, in the next hour, they will perhaps be engaged
in hot fight!
I remember once in a frigate, cruising deep in the Bay of Biscay, just
as the captain had finished the Litany, and the purser, whose greatest
pleasure it was to officiate as clerk, had said Amen, that the man at
the main royal-mast head screamed out,--
"A strange sail, broad on the lee bow!"
The first effect of this announcement was to make the commander turn
round involuntarily to the man at the wheel and exclaim, "Put the helm
up!" He then closed the book, with a degree of energy of which he was
made somewhat ashamed when the sound was echoed back by that of the
rapidly closing volumes all around him.
"My lads," said he quickly, but not without solemnity, "our duty to
our King is our duty to God; and if, as I hope, this sail turn out to
be the ship we have been so long looking after, you will not give a
worse account of her to the country, I am sure, for having applied in
good earnest for assistance from aloft." After which, suddenly
changing his tone and manner, he sung out loudly and clearly,--
"Hands, make sail! Let go the bow-lines! Round in the weather braces!
Mast-head, there! let me know when the strange sail is right ahead!"
Then leaping on the hammocks, and resting his glass against the
after-swifter of the main-rigging, he swept the horizon impatiently
for the stranger. Meanwhile, the rattling of the chairs, capstan-bars,
match-tubs, and shot-boxes, gave token of the rapid demolition of our
nautical church. The studding-sail booms shot out like spears from the
yard-arms, and the sails which these spars were to expand hung
dangling and flapping in the air, as if the canvas had been alive, and
joined in the eagerness of the chase; while the ship herself,
trembling fore and aft under these fresh and spirit-stirring impulses,
dashed away at the rate of ten and a-half knots.
Such are the incidents which happen on board single frigates; those
rattling, joyous, fly-along, Salee-rover sort of cruisers, which range
at large over the wide ocean, scour every coast, and keep the war
famously alive. A much more stately ceremonial is observed on board
fleets, whether at sea, blockading a port, or lying in harbour. The
ships of the different divisions, or squadrons, wait till the admiral
hoists at his mizen-peak the signal indicating that Divine service has
commenced, the bell is then tolled in each of the other ships, the
usual pendant is displayed, and the first article of war is complied
with, not only to the letter, but often, we may hope and trust, fully
up to the spirit. I have heard many clergymen declare that they never
beheld any congregation in which more attention and decorum prevailed
than in our ship churches.
At sea, both in fleets and on board single ships, the afternoon of
Sunday is generally a season of rest and quietness; but in harbour it
is frequently the most annoying period of the whole week. There is
nothing for the men to do, and the time hangs terribly heavy on their
hands; to which it must be added, that our ships are too often
infested by some of the vilest contaminations of the shore. Bad as
these influences are, at any time or place, I believe they may he
considered at their worst when they come afloat; so that whenever it
can possibly be done without injury to the service, portions of the
ship's company should be allowed to go on shore in turn, albeit their
proceedings when "on liberty," as they call it, are none of the most
commendable. But we must let that pass. In foreign ports, however,
this indulgence is frequently impossible; and in cases when the people
cannot be permitted to land, the different men-of-war in company are
sure to send boat-loads of visitors, or what are called "liberty men,"
on board one another's ships, to pass the afternoon of Sunday. This
practice is the very bane of good discipline, and ought at all times
to be discouraged in every way; for it almost inevitably leads to
drunkenness, rioting, and bitter heart-burnings. It has, moreover, the
effect of making the men discontented with their own ship and their
own officers. The sailors are sufficiently sharp criticisers of the
conduct of their superiors, even when they have all the facts before
them, and the power of observing closely, and from day to day. But
when they pass on board other vessels, and interchange exaggerations
over an extra pot of grog, the mischievous consequence is certain;
for each of the parties is likely enough to break up the visit
miserably discontented, and to return under a thorough conviction
that, while everything done in their own ship is wrong, all the
officers are either foolish or tyrannical, or both. If there must be
ship-visiting, let it be on week days, and in the morning; but,
clearly, the less the better; and most assuredly it ought never to be
allowed on Sunday evening.
FOOTNOTES:
[5] It would have gratified Captain Hall if he had lived to see that
some of the changes for which he pleads so earnestly are being
adopted, and that the best hands in the navy are now retained as
continuous service men.
CHAPTER XII.
NAVAL RATINGS AND SEA PAY.
MUSTERING CLOTHES.
The dinner-hour on Sunday is noon, the same as on other days; but
there is this distinction, which ought to mark the afternoon in every
well-regulated ship, the people are never disturbed between twelve
o'clock and four, unless some particular service occurs which cannot
without impropriety be deferred. It is customary during the rest of
the week to turn the watch up at one o'clock, but on Sunday, if
possible, the people should be left alone: to be idle if they choose
it, or to read, or otherwise to employ themselves according to their
own fancy. This, after all, is but a trifling indulgence, which hardly
ever puts the captain or officers to any inconvenience. Even if it
did, what would it matter? The interests of the country will not be
worse attended to in the long-run for an occasional relaxation of
strict etiquettes and formal observances. Even if the ship be making a
passage, and that, in strictness, all sail ought to be carried, no
eventual loss will ever attend such very trivial abatement of speed;
for the men will probably be far more active in making and shortening
sail at other times, when their minor comforts are thus regarded, than
when treated as if they had no feelings to be considered.
The circumstance which most distinctly marks the afternoon of Sunday
on board a man-of-war, even more than on land, is the absence of all
the usual stir caused by the multifarious occupations of the
artificers and crew. Indeed, the lower deck of a man-of-war on Sunday
afternoon, between dinner time and the hour of tea, or evening grog, a
cast of idleness is the most characteristic feature. Groups of men may
be seen sitting on the deck chatting over very old stories, a few are
reading, and many are stretched out flat on their backs fast asleep,
or dosing with their heads laid on their arms on the mess-table. But
the habit of locomotion amongst sailors is so strong, that there are
always numerous parties walking on the main deck in pairs, or in
threes and fours, along a short space, backwards and forwards,
although there seems no reason why their walk should not be twice or
thrice as long. Both sides of the forecastle, too, and the
lee-gangway, are generally filled with these walking philosophers, as
they may in truth be called; for they enjoy the hour that passes, and
are ready to take whatever comes in good part. The weather-gangway is
usually left for the occasional transits of that most restless of
mortals, the officer of the watch, who, as in duty bound, is eternally
fidgeting about the trim of the sails, and must often step forward to
the chestree, from whence, while resting his foot on the tack-block of
the mainsail, he may cast his eye aloft to detect something to alter
in the position of the head-yards. Or if he hears any noise in the
galley, or even on the lower deck, he can walk forward till he is able
to peer down the fore-hatchway, by stooping under the bows of the boat
on the booms. Most of this fidget probably arises, not so much from
any wish to find fault with what is wrong, as to maintain what is
right. The true preventive service of an officer is to interpose his
superintending vigilance between the temptation, on the part of the
men, to err, and their first motion towards offence. Were this
principle fully acted up to in all ships, how rapidly might not our
punishments subside!
At four, or half-past four in the afternoon, the merry pipe to supper
awakes the sleepers, arrests the peripatetics, and once more clusters
young and old round the mess-table. At sunset the drum beats to
quarters, when the men's names are carefully called over, and the
sobriety of each ascertained. Other duties may be intermitted on the
day of rest, but not that of the guns, which are minutely examined,
and all their appendages got ready every evening with as much earnest
care as if the ship were that instant sailing into action. A moment's
reflection, indeed, will show that there can, of course, be no
difference in this respect between Sunday and any other evening. Then
come in succession the following routine orders, and their
correspondent evolutions:--"Reef topsails!" "Stand by the hammocks!"
"Pipe down!" "Roll up the cloths!" "Call the watch!" "Pipe the
sweepers!" And thus, at last, the first day of the week at sea, in a
man-of-war, is at an end.
In old times, I recollect, the fashion was for the men to press aft
in a disorganised crowd; but of late years the following more
appropriate and orderly arrangement has been universally adopted. The
men are distributed in a close double row round the quarter-deck
gangways and forecastle, each standing in his place according to the
order of his name on the Open List. A small table is then brought up,
on which are spread the muster-books; and the captain's clerk, who is
the only person seated, begins calling over the names. Each man, as
his turn comes, pulls off his hat, smooths down his hair, and passes
over from the lee side of the deck to the weather side, stepping
across the gratings just before the binnacle. The captain stands to
windward, so that the men advance directly up towards him, and then
pass forward in review. By this means, not only the captain, but the
officers, who, of course, are all present, become better acquainted
with the men, learn their names, and ascertain their respective
ratings and merits. The first lieutenant plants himself at the
captain's elbow to furnish such general information as may be
required, or to appeal for more minute details to the other
lieutenants, warrant-officers, mates, or midshipmen, as the case may
be.
The captain avails himself of this public opportunity of telling any
of the men that they have been advanced a step on the books since the
last muster; and if these intimations be given without parade, and in
good taste, they afford great satisfaction to the people, though it
may often happen that the changes of rating are almost nominal. It is
a great point gained in all discipline, if the persons we wish to
influence can be made duly sensible that their merits and exertions
are not neglected. It is obvious, too, that if giving a man a higher
rating be a source of encouragement, to disrate him may readily be
used as a means of punishment. I remember, in the Lyra, on my way home
from China, in 1817, that the captain of the foretop, a fine active
lad from North Shields, got into some scrape, not quite bad enough to
bring him within the reach of the terrible gangway, but close to it,
and I was rather perplexed how to chastise the offender. The first
Sunday in the month was close at hand, so I waited till this man's
name was called, and then, after a suitable lecture, desired the
clerk, in the hearing of the whole ship's company, to change his
rating to that of able seaman from captain of the top. The poor fellow
looked bewildered, and, instead of passing on when another name was
called, stood stock-still half-way across the deck.
"Don't you hear?" I said; "you are no longer captain of the foretop,
you are disrated on the ship's books."
I then turned to the clerk to see the entry properly made; but on
looking again at the disrated seaman, I observed, to my astonishment,
that he was in tears!
I certainly had not reckoned upon such a scene; but it at once flashed
upon me that here was an opportunity of gaining two important points.
The first and most obvious of which was to secure this particular
man's future good services by enlisting all that was hearty in his
nature at the instant of its strongest expression; and the next, to
avail myself of the circumstance to stamp a still higher degree of
importance in the eyes of the men than before upon the value of these
ratings. I therefore instantly called out to the clerk to stop his
pen; and then addressing the man, in a voice loud enough to be heard
by all the crew, said, I was quite sure any one who felt so sensibly
the degradation implied in the loss of rank which he had just incurred
was never likely to expose himself again to such a risk. I should
therefore not only give him back his former rating, and replace him in
his station as captain of the top, but assure him that all trace both
of his offence and its punishment should from that moment be entirely
forgotten.
It is hardly within the range of popular explanation to show in what
particulars the different shades of technical merit consist, by which
many of these ratings are awarded. The letters A.B., which mean Able
Seaman, are placed against the names of those only who are
thorough-bred sailors, or who, in sea phrase, can not only "hand,
reef, and steer," but are likewise capable of heaving the lead in the
darkest night, as well as in the day-time; who can use the palm and
needle of a sail-maker; and who are versed in every part of a ship's
rigging, in the stowage of the hold, and in the exercise of the great
guns. Of course, an A.B. must be able to pull an oar, as well as use
it in sculling, understand the management of a boat under sail, and
know how to cross a surf. He must also learn the art of placing an
anchor in a boat, in order to its being laid out; and how to get it in
again when weighed. In these, and twenty other things which might be
pointed out, he ought to be examined by the boatswain and other
officers before his rating of A.B. is fully established on the books.
The higher ratings of quarter-master, gunner's mate, captain of the
forecastle and of the tops, and so on, are given chiefly to men who
may not, in fact, know more than every Able Seaman is supposed to be
acquainted with, but who have recommended themselves by their superior
activity and vigilance, and have not only shown themselves fit to
command others by their decision of character, but evinced a sincere
anxiety to see the work of their department well performed. It is of
great consequence to assist in every way the authority of these
leading hands over the other men stationed in the same part of the
ship; and judicious officers will generally be able to avail
themselves to great purpose, in moments of trial, of the energetic
co-operation of these persons. Much of the internal, or what may be
called domestic, discipline of the crew, depends upon the conduct of
these men; for each mess has one of them at its head, who is held more
or less responsible for the behaviour of the people in that knot or
party. I have, however, known some officers exact a great deal too
much from these captains of the messes, and expect them to become
spies and informers against their companions; or, which is just as
unreasonable, hold them fully answerable for all delinquencies
committed in their part of the ship. This is cruel; because, although
they undoubtedly may contribute materially towards the maintenance of
good order, they cannot, by possibility, do more than act as
assistants to the first lieutenant, and chiefly by explaining to the
rest of the people what is required of them. Most men in the long-run,
and perhaps in all ranks of society, but certainly on board a
manof-war, find it so much more agreeable in every respect to do what
is right than what is wrong, that when they come distinctly to know
what is wanted, they almost invariably set about executing it
cheerfully. The first grand point, therefore, in the ship's
discipline, after a system has been adopted which shall be consistent
in all its parts, is, to let the details of this system be thoroughly
understood by every one on board. When a good plan has been once fixed
upon, and the officers are vigilant, patient, and exact in their own
personal conduct, and the leading men have been made fully acquainted
with what is required, the rest of the crew will be but too happy to
do their duty manfully and well, without the instrumentality of the
lash, except in extreme cases.
In former times, the distinctions amongst ratings of the seamen on the
ship's books were so few that it was impossible to discriminate
correctly, or to assign to each man, with any justice, the exact
rating which his knowledge of seamanship, his experience in the
exercise of that knowledge, his general good conduct, and his
abilities, might entitle him to. An Order in Council, dated November,
1816, established a new system of Ratings; and by another Order, dated
the 23rd of June, 1824, "the net sea pay of the flag-officers of His
Majesty's fleet" was established, "together with the net sea pay and
number of their retinue; the number of commissioned, warrant, petty,
and non-commissioned officers, and the ratings of every description
both of seamen and marines, allowed to each class of His Majesty's
ships, with their rates of net sea pay respectively; and
distinguishing the several classes for sharing the produce of
seizures."[6]
As soon as the ship's company have been mustered, the captain takes
off his hat and reads the Articles of War, to which, out of respect to
this important act of parliament, the people listen in like manner
uncovered. Between breakfast and divisions, some captains occupy
themselves in examining the weekly reports of the expenditure of
boatswain's, gunner's, and carpenter's stores; and in going over with
the purser the account of the remains of provisions, fuel, and
slop-clothing on board. After which he may overhaul the midshipmen's
log-books, watch, station, and quarter bills, or take a look at their
school-books. If the ship be in harbour, he also glances his eye at
their accounts; and he generally takes occasion to indulge in a little
kindly gossip about their mess, their love of the sea, and the last
letters they received from home.
Thus the gallant skipper, as well as his gallant crew, has seldom much
spare time on his hands during the forenoon of Sunday. I should be
right glad, indeed, to be informed what day, or hour, or even what
half-hour, in the whole week, from end to end, the captain can fairly
call his own. Not one! Every other person on board has his hour, or
his four hours, or his eight hours of rest, and of relief from all
anxiety; but the poor captain has not a minute. He is the chief over
all, it is true; but he pays dearly and deeply for this distinction in
the shape of heavy responsibilities, and perpetual trials of various
kinds. Our poet says, "uneasy lies the head that wears a crown"--I am
quite sure that unburdened never lie the shoulders that wear two
epaulettes. The captain is at all calls, and must be ready at all
seasons with resources, good or bad, to supply the failures or
indolence of others; while his own fate, fortunes, and character, as
well as the credit of the service, and sometimes that of the country,
are made to hang upon the instantaneous nature of his decisions, and
upon the vigour and efficiency of his exertions, at moments perhaps
when his powers are nearly exhausted, and his spirit all but crushed
by sheer fatigue. The simple enumeration of a captain of a
man-of-war's ordinary responsibilities, I have often thought, would
win for his class a degree of considerate forbearance, and candid
allowance for his difficulties, which, perhaps, it has never yet
fairly received from the public. If, to such enumeration, a notice
respecting the duties of each were appended, an interesting peep
might be afforded to the curious of the internal government of our
singular community, and information supplied on not a few points,
respecting which most people are entirely ignorant.
It is frequently the practice in the navy on Sundays to muster clothes
at divisions, and to take a list of what slops are required by the men
to complete their kit, or stock of worldly goods. This overhaul or
inspection happens once a month; and when such is the intention, the
word is passed along the lower deck at breakfast-time, that the ship's
company are to "muster clothes at divisions." When the drum beats,
each man brings his bag to the place where he stands in his division,
and proceeds to arrange his things in order on the deck before him,
each article being placed separately, that the officer may count, and,
if he pleases, examine them, after the mates and mids have first
called over the names, to ascertain that every man has the proper
complement of articles, in good order, and well washed. A note is then
taken of what things are wanted, in the way of slops, to supply
worn-out and condemned clothes. "Slops" is the technical name for
jackets, trousers, shirts, and other articles of a sailor's wardrobe,
before they have been used. They are sent on board in bales and boxes
by government, and placed in charge of the purser.
All this is reported in detail to the lieutenant of the division, who
continues walking backwards and forwards while the inspection is going
on, ready to answer appeals in the event of any difficulties or doubts
arising. He carries in his hand a complete list of his division, and
of each man's clothes; and when the young gentlemen under his orders
have finished their work, and taken down what is wanted, the
lieutenant goes along the line to investigate the whole anew. He then
collects the different memorandums of slops wanted, and proceeds to
make his report to the captain, who either sanctions or disapproves of
the decision of the officer, as he pleases. Frequently the captain
himself goes along the divisions, to look at the men's clothing; but
the glance which he takes is necessarily of a more cursory nature; his
object is, to let the men feel that he is ready to interfere, if need
be, but also to show, that, unless there is any special call for the
interposition of his authority, he confides in those under him.
A commander should recollect, that, whether it be he himself, or
chiefly his officers and crew, who perform any useful public service,
he invariably reaps at least his full share of the credit. His real
interest, therefore, must always be, not merely to draw about him the
ablest men he can induce to follow him, but to allow them the utmost
latitude of independent action and responsibility, and as much of the
merit of success as possible. If he persevere sincerely in this
course, he will soon discover that the more he endeavours to remove
the credit from himself, or, rather, to divide it handsomely with
those who are acting with him, the more will he generally find the
merit given back to himself.
I suspect few people have the smallest notion of what a sailor's
wardrobe consists. Every one has, indeed, a vague idea that he must
have a blue jacket and trousers, and a low, canvas, shining sort of
affair, stuck on one side of his head, and called by him a hat. But of
any further particulars, the shore-going world really knows about as
little as they do respecting the dresses of the Emperor of China.
Honest Jack, it is very true, is not much encumbered with clothes;
and too often his wardrobe sadly resembles that of the Honourable Mr.
Dowlas, which was so easily transportable in the Honourable Mr.
Dowlas's pocket-handkerchief. Yet if he have the opportunity, poor
fellow, and be duly encouraged, he is not a little of a dandy in his
way.
In a well-regulated ship, a sailor's kit consists generally of at
least two blue jackets, and one pea jacket, which is a sort of
lumbering shaggy surtout, or curtailed great-coat, capable of being
wrapped round the body, so as to cover the thighs. Why it is called a
pea jacket I should be glad to be informed by any knowing person; and
I beg leave accordingly to refer the question to that corner of the
United Service Journal reserved for technical queries, a valuable
niche in that ably conducted periodical. A seaman must also have two
pairs of blue trousers, two pairs of shoes, six shirts, four pairs of
stockings, two Guernsey frocks, made of a sort of worsted
stocking-work, without any opening in front; two hats, two black
handkerchiefs, and a comforter to wrap round the throat; together with
several pairs of flannel drawers and waistcoats; for in hot, as well
as in cold climates, and at all times of the year, the men are now
encouraged, as much as possible, to wear flannel next the skin.
The above forms the kit of a sailor in a ship stationed in high
latitudes. On the Mediterranean station, or on that of North America,
there is such a mixture of severe and mild weather, that a larger
stock is necessary than when the ship is employed exclusively in a
cold, or in a hot climate. On the Indian, South American, and West
Indian stations, which lie almost entirely between the tropics,
woollen clothing gradually disappears, and the men are apt to suffer a
good deal on returning to colder regions; it being hardly to be
expected that folks of such improvident habits as sailors will be able
to take care of articles of dress, for several years together, for
which they have no immediate use.
I remember a captain, whose ship had been often exposed to these
alternations, amusing his people very much on entering the tropics, by
directing them to roll up all their blue clothes, worsted stockings,
and so on, in neat bundles, each having the name and number of the
person it belonged to written on a wooden tally, and fastened to it.
These being all collected, and packed carefully in well-dried,
watertight casks, were stowed away in the hold, and forgotten, till
the pinching blasts off Cape Horn made the unpacking of the casks a
scene of as great joy as ever attended the opening of a box of finery
at a boarding-school gala.
In warm climates, the stock of a man-of-war sailor consists of four
duck frocks, which are more like shirts than anything else, with
sundry strings, and touches of blue binding about the breast and
collar, which is generally lined with blue, and allowed to fall over
the shoulders. It is totally contrary to Jack's habits to have
anything tight about his throat; and one of the chief causes of his
invincible estrangement from the royal marine corps is their
stiff-necked custom of wearing polished leather stocks. I hardly
suppose there could be found any motive strong enough to induce a
genuine sailor to buckle a permanent collar round his neck with any
tolerable grace; the alternative of the yard-arm would almost be
preferable! His delight is to place a black or coloured silk
handkerchief lightly over his neck, and to confine its ends across his
breast by means of one of the small bones or vertebrae of a shark,
which forms a neat, white, perforated cylinder. Some very prime
dandies of the mizen-top fold a part of their handkerchief over the
shoulders and back; but it requires the aid of a handsome person, and
a good deal of modest assurance, to make this tolerable.
They must also provide themselves with four pairs of duck trousers, a
straw hat for fine weather, and a canvas or beaver one for squalls,
though this need not be insisted on. Shoes are not much used, except
by those whose work lies aloft; and prudent hands generally keep a
blue jacket by them, in case of rain or night-work. It is not a bad
rule to muster the crew occasionally with blue jackets, even in hot
weather, to see that such things are really in existence. Each man
has, of course, a bed, a pillow, and two blankets; sheets are never
heard of. He has also two hammocks, one of which is slung and in use,
the other scrubbed, dry, and stowed away, ready to be exchanged for
the dirty one. The hammocks, at the time I first went to sea (1802),
were made of a coarse brown stuff, which it was difficult, if not
impossible, to make white by any amount of scrubbing; and, what was
worse, so thick that it was by no means easily dried. Now-a-days, they
are generally made either of canvas, or of a twilled sacking, and,
when spread out, measure 4-1/2 feet by 3-1/2; but when lashed up, and
ready for stowing away in the netting, they form long sacks, about as
big as a man's body, but not tapering to the ends.
In ships where much pains is taken to have the hammocks stowed
properly, they are lashed up, so as to preserve the same width all
along, and with neither more nor fewer than seven turns with a
well-blacked small lashing, carefully passed round at equal intervals.
When the hammocks are prepared in this way, and all made of the same
size, (which condition may be secured by putting them through a ring
of given dimensions,) they are laid in symmetrical order all round the
ship, above the bulwark, on the quarter-deck and forecastle, and in
the waist nettings along the gangways. Each hammock, it may be
mentioned, has a separate number painted neatly upon it on a small,
white, oval patch, near one of the corners; so that, when they are all
stowed in the nettings, a uniform line of numbers extends round the
ship, and the hammock of any man who may be taken ill can be found by
his messmates in a moment. The bags, in like manner, of which each
person has two, are numbered separately. In rainy weather the hammocks
are securely covered by painted cloths.
As a seaman's kit generally forms his whole property, it ought to be
carefully preserved, and every possible facility given that the
service will allow of for his keeping it in good order. A captain of
any consideration will naturally bear in mind, that, as the comfort
and health of the men under his command depend most materially upon
the manner in which they are clad, and especially upon the damp or dry
state of their dress, it becomes an important branch of his duty to
see that their things are taken care of with as much exactness as the
spare sails, cordage, or provisions. It much too frequently happens,
however, that the unfortunate sailors' clothes are more torment to
them than advantage, and they may think themselves lucky if they can
catch hold of a jacket or trousers to shift withal, so eternally are
they interfered with by some inconsiderate officers. "Pipe the bags
up!" "Pipe the bags down!" "Stow the bags afresh!" "Pipe to scrub the
bags!" and twenty such orders are given in a day in some ships, to the
endless misery of the people. It is, no doubt, necessary that the bags
should be scrubbed and stowed properly, and be piped up and down at
the proper times and seasons. But there are two ways of doing these
things: one, which gives the men no more trouble than is absolutely
unavoidable; the other, which harasses and justly provokes them. It is
not enough to say that they must submit, whether they like it or not.
They will submit, it is true; but in what temper? and how will these
men work when called upon to exert themselves, if they are habitually
treated with disrespect, and exposed to needless, and even impertinent
worry? I have even heard of some crack ships, as they are termed,
where the poor devils are obliged to pipe-clay their bags, to make
them look white, forsooth! Why, the very idea of pipe-clay is gall and
wormwood to the taste of the Johnnies. Of late years I understand
there have been introduced black painted water-proof bags, which are a
great comfort to the men. Besides keeping out wet, they require no
trouble to scrub and dry, and, after all, are fully as clean, and far
more useful in every respect.
To show the various sorts of outfit which the men composing a
man-of-war's crew may be furnished with on first coming on board, I
shall describe a scene which took place on the Leander's
quarter-deck, off the Port of New York, in 1804. We were rather
short-handed in those days; and being in the presence of a blockaded
enemy, and liable, at half-an-hour's warning, to be in action, we
could not afford to be very scrupulous as to the ways and means by
which our numbers were completed, so that able-bodied men were secured
to handle the gun-tackle falls. It chanced one day that we fell in
with a ship filled with emigrants; a description of vessel called, in
the classical dictionary of the cockpit, an "Irish guinea man." Out of
her we pressed twenty Irishmen, besides two strapping fellows from
Yorkshire, and one canny Scot.
Each of this score of Pats was rigged merely in a great coat, and a
pair of something which might be called an apology for inexpressibles;
while the rest of their united wardrobe could have been stowed away in
the crown of any one of their hats. Their motives for emigrating to a
country where mere health and strength of body are sure to gain an
independent provision were obvious enough; and I must say, that to
this hour I have not been able to forget the melancholy cry or howl
with which the separation of these hardy settlers from their families
was effected by the strong arm of power. It was a case of necessity,
it is true; but still it was a cruel case, and one for the exercise of
which the officer who put it in force deserves almost as much pity as
the poor wretches whose feelings and interests it became his bounden
duty to disregard.
In most admired contrast to this bewildered drove of half-starved
Paddies stood the two immense, broad-shouldered, high-fed
Yorkshiremen, dressed in long-tailed coats, corduroy breeches, and
yellow-topped boots, each accompanied by a chest of clothes not much
less than a pianoforte, and a huge pile of spades, pick-axes, and
other implements of husbandry. They possessed money also, and letters
of credit, and described themselves as being persons of some substance
at home. Why they emigrated they would not tell; but such were their
prospects, that it was difficult to say whether they or the wild
Irishers were the most to be commiserated for so untoward an
interruption. Be this as it may, it cost the clerk half-an-hour to
write down a list of their multifarious goods and chattels, while a
single scratch of the pen sufficed for that of all the Irishmen.
At last honest Saunders came under review. He was a tall, raw-boned,
grave-looking personage, much pitted with the smallpox, and wearing a
good deal of that harassed and melancholy air, which, sooner or later,
settles on the brow of an assistant to a village pedagogue. He was
startled, but not abashed, when drawn to the middle of the deck, and
asked, in the presence of fifty persons, what clothes and other things
he possessed? Not choosing at first to betray his poverty, he made no
answer, but looked round, as if to discover where his chest had been
placed. He then glanced at his thread-bare sleeve and tattered shoon,
with a slight touch of dry and bitter humour playing about the corners
of his mouth, and a faint sparkle lighting up his grey and sunken eye,
as he returned the impatient official stare of the clerk, who stood,
pen in hand, ready to note down the items.
"Don't be frightened, man," said the captain; "no one is going to
hurt you, your things are quite safe. What does your property consist
of?"
"A trifle, sir, a trifle," quoth poor Sawney; "fourpence ha'penny and
an auld knife!"
Before concluding this subject, it may perhaps be useful to remark,
that, unless in those cases where such a measure is absolutely
necessary, the actual examination and minute recording of the men's
clothes might, in general, be advantageously dispensed with. I have,
indeed, occasionally fancied I saw traces of irritation and wounded
pride amongst the men, when all their little knick-knacks, every hat,
hose, and handkerchief, or old shoe, was examined into and noted down,
to be reproduced that day month, or its absence accounted for. I tried
a middle course in my own ship, which appeared to answer all the
purposes required. From time to time the men were ordered to bring
their bags to divisions, and to spread out their clothes to air on the
deck, over the guns, along the hammock-nettings, or in the rigging. In
this way the officers and mids, who passed repeatedly up and down the
line, had opportunities enough, if they did their duty, to see that
all the clothes were clean, dry, and in good order. When any man's
things were observed not to be in the condition demanded by the
regulations of the ship, or he was found ragged in his clothes, or not
properly dressed, then such delinquent was no longer indulged with the
exemption, but had his kit subjected to a daily, or weekly, or monthly
scrutiny, as the case might be. As long as he was in this predicament,
he was obliged to exhibit every article in proper condition, and was
not at liberty, without asking leave, to destroy even such worn-out
things as an old Jew clothesman would turn up his beard at. I took
care that no part of this surveillance should be talked of as a
punishment, although, unquestionably, it was intended and felt as
such; but studied rather to give it the character of a necessary duty
in the instance of individuals who, if not so watched, would, by their
misconduct, hurt the general discipline of the ship. It was very
seldom that any one exposed to such drilling for a month or six weeks
ever brought himself within the range of its humiliation a second
time.
FOOTNOTES:
[6] CLASSES AND DENOMINATIONS OF HER MAJESTY'S SHIPS.
1. Rated Ships, viz.:--
_First Rate_.--All Three-decked Ships.
_Second Rate_.--One of Her Majesty's Yachts, and all Two-decked Ships
whose war complements consist of 700 men and upwards.
_Third Rate_.--Her Majesty's other Yachts, and all such Yachts as may
bear the Flag or Pendant of an Admiral or Captain Superintending one
of Her Majesty's Dock-yards; and all Ships whose complements are under
700 and not less than 600.
_Fourth Rate_.--Ships whose complements are under 600 and not less
than 400.
_Fifth Rate_.--Ships whose complements are under 400 and not less than
250.
_Sixth Rate_.--Ships under 250.
2. Sloops and Bomb-Vessels; all such as are commanded by Commanders.
3. All other smaller Vessels; such as are commanded by Lieutenants or
inferior officers.
CHAPTER XIII.
SAILORS' PETS.
A dog is the most obvious and natural pet for a gentleman; but still,
a dog, with all his familiarity, is a selfish sort of companion, for
he generally bestows his whole sociability either upon his master, or
his master's servant who feeds him, or upon his master's friend who
accompanies him to the fields. To all others he is not only cold, but
often surly and impertinent. This, indeed, would matter little, if
there were not unfortunately a proverb extant, which has led perhaps
to more squabbles, duels, and other uncharitableness, than most other
causes of dispute. This pugnacious proverb, "Love me, love my dog,"
being interpreted, signifies, "If you kick my dog, I kick you." Then
follows, if not the kick, words which hurt honour quite as much, and
in the end too often draw away the life-blood of warriors who, but
for some mangy cur, might have fought themselves into companionship in
public usefulness and fame with "Duncan, Howe, or Jarvis."
No dog, therefore, can ever become a very general favourite of the
crew; for it is so completely his nature to be exclusive in his
regards, that were a whole pack of hounds on board, they would not be
enough, nor afford a tenth part of the amusement which a single monkey
serves out to a ship's company. I take good care, accordingly, never
to be without one in any ship I command, on the sheer principle of
keeping the men employed, in a good humoured way, when they chance to
have no specific duty to attend to. It must be recollected that we are
often exposed to long periods of inaction, during which mischief is
very apt to be brewed amongst the people.
But if a good monkey be allowed to run about the ship, I defy any one
to continue long in a bad humour. Jacko is an overmatch for the demon
of idleness, at least if light hearts and innocent diversions be
weapons against which he cannot long contend. Be this as it may, I
make a rule of entering a monkey as speedily as possible after
hoisting my pendant; and if a reform takes place in the table of
ratings, I would recommend a corner for the "ship's monkey," which
should be borne on the books for "full allowance of victuals,"
excepting only the grog; for I have observed that a small quantity of
tipple very soon upsets him; and although there are few things in
nature more ridiculous than a monkey half-seas over, yet the reasons
against permitting such pranks are obvious and numerous.
When Lord Melville, then First Lord of the Admiralty, to my great
surprise and delight, put into my hands a commission for a ship going
to the South American station, a quarter of the world I had long
desired to visit, my first thought was, "Where now shall I manage to
find a merry rascal of a monkey?" Of course, I did not give audible
expression to this thought in the First Lord's room; but, on coming
down-stairs, I had a talk about it in the hall with my friend, the
late Mr. Nutland, the porter, who laughed, and said,--
"Why, sir, you may buy a wilderness of monkeys at Exeter 'Change."
"True! true!" and off I hurried in a Hackney coach. Mr. Cross, not
only agreed to spare me one of his choicest and funniest animals, but
readily offered his help to convey him to the ship. "Lord, sir!" said
he, "there is not an animal in the whole world so wild or fierce that
we can't carry about as innocent as a lamb; only trust to me, sir, and
your monkey shall be delivered on board your ship in Portsmouth
Harbour as safely as if he were your best chronometer going down by
mail in charge of the master." Accordingly he was in a famous
condition for his breakfast next morning, when the waterman ferried
him off from Common Hard to the hulk, on board which the officers had
just assembled. As the ship had been only two or three days in
commission, few seamen had as yet entered; but shortly afterwards they
came on board in sufficient numbers; and I have sometimes ascribed the
facility with which we got the ship manned, not a little to the
attractive agency of the diverting vagabond, recently come from town,
the fame of whose tricks soon extended over Portsea; such as catching
hold of the end of the sail-maker's ball of twine, and paying the
whole overboard, hand over hand, from a secure station in the rigging;
or stealing the boatswain's silver call, and letting it drop from the
end of the cat-head; or his getting into one of the cabin ports and
tearing up the captain's letters, a trick at which even the stately
skipper can only laugh.
One of our monkey's grand amusements was to watch some one arranging
his clothes bag. After the stowage was completed, and everything put
carefully away, he would steal round, untie the strings, and having
opened the mouth of the bag draw forth in succession every article of
dress, first smell it, then turn it over and over, and lastly fling it
away on the wet deck. It was amusing enough to observe, that all the
while he was committing any piece of mischief he appeared not only to
be under the fullest consciousness of guilt, but living in the perfect
certainty that he was earning a good sound drubbing for his pains.
Still the pleasure of doing wrong was so strong and habitual within
him, that he seemed utterly incapable of resisting the temptation.
While thus occupied, and alternately chattering with terror, and
screaming with delight, till the enraged owner of the property burst
in upon him, hardly more angry with Jacko than with his malicious
messmates, who, instead of preventing, had rather encouraged the
pillage.
All this was innocent, however, compared to the tricks which the
blue-jackets taught him to play upon the jolly marines. How they set
about this laudable piece of instruction, I know not; but the
antipathy which they established in Jacko's breast against the red
coats was something far beyond ordinary prejudice, and in its
consequences partook more of the interminable war between cat and dog.
At first he merely chattered, or grinned contemptuously at them; or,
at worst, snapped at their heels, soiled their fine pipe-clayed
trousers, or pulled the cartridges out of their cartouch-boxes, and
scattered the powder over the decks; feats for which his rump was
sure to smart under the ratan of the indignant sergeant, to whom the
"party" made their complaint. Upon these occasions the sailors laughed
so heartily at their friend Jacko, as he placed his hands behind him,
and, in an agony of rage and pain, rubbed the seat of honour tingling
under the sergeant's chastisement, that if he could only have reasoned
the matter, he would soon have distrusted this offensive but not
defensive alliance with the Johnnies against the Jollies. Sometimes,
indeed, he appeared to be quite sensible of his absurd position, caned
by his enemy, and ridiculed by his friends, in whose cause he was
suffering. On these occasions, he often made a run, open-mouthed, at
the sailors; in return for which mutinous proceeding he was sure to
get a smart rap over the nose from his own party, which more than
counterpoised the anguish at the other extremity of his person, giving
ludicrous occupation to both his hands, and redoubling the shouts of
laughter at his expense. In short, poor St. Jago literally got what is
currently called monkey's allowance, viz. "more kicks than halfpence."
In process of time, as Mr. Monkey, by dint of that bitter monitor,
experience, gained higher knowledge in the art of marine warfare and
ship diplomacy, he became much more formidable in his attacks on the
"corps," and generally contrived to keep himself well beyond the reach
of the sergeant's merciless ratan. One of the favourite pranks of the
sailors was to place him near the break of the forecastle, with a
handspike, taken from the bow-chaser gun, in his paws. It was quite as
much as he could carry, and far more than he could use as a missile
against the royals; but he was soon instructed in a method of
employing it, which always grievously annoyed the enemy.
Theoretically, I presume poor Jacko knew no more of the laws of
gravitation, than his friends, the seamen, did of centrifugal action,
when swinging round the hand-lead to gain soundings, by pitching it
far forward into the water; but both the monkey and his wicked
associates knew very well, that if a handspike were held across the
top of the forecastle ladder, and let go when a person was about
half-way down it, the heels of the said individual would be sure to
bring up, or stop the bar. The unhappy marine, therefore, who happened
to be descending the steps when Jacko let his handspike fall,
generally got the skin taken off his heels, or his instep, according
as his rear or his front was turned towards the foe. The instant Jacko
let go his hold, and the law of gravitation began to act, so that the
handspike was heard to rattle down the ladder, off he jumped to the
bow of the barge, overlooking the spot, and there sat, with his neck
stretched out, his eyes starting from his head, and his lips drawn
back, till his teeth, displayed from ear to ear, rapped against one
another like a pair of castanets in a bolero, under the influence of
the most ecstatic alarm, curiously mixed up with the joy of complete
success. The poor wounded Gulpin, in the mean time, rubbed his ankles
as he fired off a volley of imprecations, the only effect of which was
to increase the number of his audience, grinning and laughing in
chorus with the terrified mischief-monger.
I remember seeing a marine, of more than usual activity, and who had
before been served this trick, catch hold of the end of the weather
middle stay-sail sheet, hanging from the booms, and, before Jacko
knew what he was about, succeed in giving him such a cut across his
sconce as the animal never forgot or forgave. Next morning the monkey
stowed himself away behind the pumps, till the same marine passed; he
then sprung out, and laid hold of him by the calf of the leg; and, in
spite of sundry kicks and cuffs, never once relaxed his jaws till the
teeth met amongst what the loblolly boy, in the pride of his
anatomical knowledge, called the "gastrocnemii muscles" of his enemy's
leg. The cries of "murder!" from the soldier, brought the marines and
many of the sailors under the half-deck to the poor fellow's rescue;
while the author of the mischief scuttled off among the men's feet,
chattering and screaming all the way. He was not again seen during two
or three days; at the end of which, as the wounded "troop" was not
much hurt, a sort of truce was proclaimed between the red and the blue
factions of the ship. Doubtless the armistice was all the better kept
in consequence of some tolerably intelligible hints from the higher
powers, that the peace of the ship was no longer to be invaded to make
sport for those who were evidently more idle than they ought to be,
and for whom, therefore, a little additional work might possibly be
found.
Old Jacko, however, like one of the weaker states of Europe, whose
fate and fortunes are settled by the protocols of the surrounding
political giants, was no party to these treaties; and having once
tasted the joys of revenge, he could not keep his teeth quiet, but
must needs have another bite. Upon this occasion, however, he kept
clear of the corps, and attacked one of his oldest and dearest
friends, no less a personage than the captain of the foretop. It was
in warm weather, and the men, as usual, were dining on the main-deck;
the grog had been served out, and the happy Johnnies were just
beginning to sip their darling beverage, when Mr. Mischief,
incessantly occupied in his vocation of wrong doing, and utterly
incapable of resisting any good opening to get himself into a scrape,
saw the grog-kid of the captain of the top's mess standing by the
fore-hatchway. So he paced round, as if seeking for a bit of bread,
but all the while keeping his face turned just so far from the fated
grog-vessel that no one suspected his design. On reaching the spot his
heart began to fail him, but not his wickedness; indeed, his was the
very beau ideal of that character described in the satire of Junius,
which, "without courage enough to resist doing a bad action, has yet
virtue enough to be ashamed of it." Whether or not these mixed motives
influenced old Jacko, I cannot pretend to say; but there he sat
chattering, screaming, and trembling, as if the sergeant's cane had
been within an inch of his hide.
"What ails you, my dear Mr. St. James?" said the captain of the top,
playfully addressing the monkey. "What are you afraid of? Nobody is
going to hurt you; we are all sailors and friends here, man. Not a
marine within hail of you!"
At this stage of the colloquy the sly rogue having mustered all his
energies, fairly grasped the grog-kid in his arms, and, making a clean
spring from the deck, placed himself, at the first bound, beyond the
reach of the horror-stricken seaman. This exploit was not so adroitly
performed as it might have been if Jacko had been less agitated, and
one-half of the delicious nectar in the sailor's cup was jerked out.
"You bloody thundering rascal of a monkey!" bellowed the astounded
topman; "let go the kid, or I'll shy this knife at your head!"
The threat was no sooner uttered than executed; for the sailor,
without waiting to see the effect of his summons, threw the knife; and
had not his saintship ducked his head, there would have been an end of
monkey tricks for that cruise. As the glittering steel passed before
the wicked scamp's eyes, the flash deprived him of all recollection of
the mischief in hand: with a loud yell he leaped on the booms, and in
his terror let the prize slip from his grasp. It fell on the cooming
of the hatchway, hung for one instant, and then dashed right down into
the fore-cockpit, to the infinite astonishment of the boatswain's
yeoman, a thirsty soul, and familiar with drink in all its shapes, but
who declared he never before had tried grog in a shower-bath.
Up started the enraged party of seamen on their feet. "All hands catch
monkey!" was the cry; and in ten seconds the whole crew, including the
cook with his ladle, and his mate with the tormentors in his hand,
were seen scrambling on deck. Jacko scampered like lightning up the
main-stay, and reached the top before any of the men, who had mounted
the rigging, were half-a-dozen ratlines above the hammocks. The
officers rushed to the quarter-deck, naturally fancying from the
bustling sounds that a man was overboard; but they were soon
undeceived by the shouts of laughter which resounded from every part
of the ship, low and aloft.
For a few moments Jacko sat on the main-cap, chattering at such a rate
that, had it been dark, one of the men said, you could have seen the
sparks of fire from his teeth. I do not quite believe this; but
certainly I never witnessed such an expression of fear. A dozen men
were soon pouring into the top, while two others were stealing up the
stay, and four or five had got into the topmast-shrouds, to cut off
his retreat in that direction; finally, an active fellow leaped from
the rigging to the topmast, and sliding down the well-greased spar,
almost plumped on the devoted head of this master of the revels. It
was now absolutely necessary for Jacko to do something; so he made a
clear run down the main lift to the lower yard-arm. The gunner's mate
foreseeing this manoeuvre, had sprung to guard his department, and had
already lain out as far as the inner boom iron, with a gasket in his
hand, and quite certain of catching the chase. Not a bit! "A gunner's
mate catch a monkey!" The fable of the Tortoise and the Hare affords
but a feeble simile to characterize such a match; and before old
Hard-a-weather and his gasket had reached the yard-arm, our nimble
Mona had trotted half-way up the leach of the topsail, and was seated
as familiarly on the bridle of the maintop-bowline, as if he had been
perched on the feathery branch of a cocoa-nut tree, enjoying the sea
breeze, in his native island, amongst the beautiful Cape de Verdes.
The sailors were now fairly baffled, and still more so when the expert
rogue chose to climb a little higher, and then to walk deliberately
along the standing part of the main-topsail brace to the mizen-topmast
head; whence, as if to divert himself, or force his pursuers to mingle
admiration with their rage, he made a flying leap downwards to the
peak haulyards, scampering along the single part till he reached the
end of the gaff. There he sat laughing at a hundred and fifty men and
boys, employed in the vain attempt to catch one monkey!
Sailors are certainly not men to give up a pursuit lightly; but after
an hour of as hard labour as I ever witnessed, they were all obliged
to relinquish the chase from sheer fatigue, and poor Jacko was
pardoned by acclamation. The captain of the foretop, however, a couple
of days afterwards, more out of fun than from any ill-will on the old
grog score, gave the monkey's ear a pinch, upon which the animal
snapped at his thumb, and bit it so seriously that the man was obliged
to apply to the doctor. When this was reported to me by the surgeon, I
began to think my four-footed friend was either getting rather too
much licence, or that too many liberties were taken with him, so I
gave orders that in future he should be let alone. Nevertheless, Jacko
contrived to bite two more of the people, one of whom was the
sergeant, the other the midshipmen's boy. These were all wounded in
one day; and when the surgeon came to me next morning, as usual, with
the sick-list in his hand, he was rather in dudgeon.
"Really, sir," said he, "this does seem rather too much of the monkey.
Here are no fewer than three persons in my list from bites of this
infernal beast."
"Three!" I exclaimed, and straightway got angry, partly at my own
folly, partly at the perversity of my pet, and also somewhat nettled
by the tone not very unreasonably assumed by the doctor. "Send Black,
the quarter-master, here directly." He soon came.
"Don't you take care of the monkey?" I asked.
"Yes, sir, I do. You gave me charge of him."
"Well! and why don't you prevent his biting the people?"
"I can't prevent him, sir."
"No! Then throw him overboard!" I cried--"over with him at once! There
he stands, in charge of the corporal and two marines; pitch him right
over the lee-gangway. I will not have the ship's company killed and
wounded at this rate. Over with him, I say!"
The quarter-master moved off to the lee-gangway, and took the
terrified animal in his arms; while, on its part, the poor creature
seemed conscious of its approaching fate, and spread out its arms over
the seaman's bare breast, as if to supplicate his mercy. The old
sailor, who looked mightily as if he were going to melt upon the
occasion, cast a petitioning glance to windward every now and then
from under the edge of his straw hat, as I paced up and down the deck,
still fuming away at the doctor's demi-official reproach. As I saw the
fellow wished to say something, I at length asked him whether he had
any proposal to make respecting his wicked and troublesome pet. The
old man's face brightened up with this prospect of a respite for his
favourite; and, after humming and hawing for a minute, he said,--
"It is all owing to these two great teeth, sir; if they were out, he
would be as harmless as any lamb."
"I tell you what it is," I replied, catching at this suggestion, "I
positively will not have the whole ship's company driven one after
another into the sick list by your confounded monkey; but if you
choose to draw those wild-boar tusks of his, you may let him live."
Few reprieves were ever hailed at the foot of the gallows with more
joy by the friends of a felon than this announcement of a commutation
of Mr. St. Jago's sentence was received by his affectionate
companions. Even the marines, though constitutionally predisposed
against him, were glad of the change; and I heard the sentry at the
cabin door say, "I knew the captain had too much regard for the animal
to do him an injury."
Injury, indeed! I question whether poor Jacko thought the alternative
any favour. At all events, his friends seemed grievously puzzled how
to fulfil the conditions of his exemption from a watery grave; for I
could perceive a council of war going on upon the lee side of the main
deck, as to the best method of proceeding in the affair of the tusks.
"Who'll hold the monkey?" said one.
No answer was made to this. It was like the old story of belling the
cat; but there was no Douglas so bold as to try the experiment on
Master Jacko, who at any time was a powerful animal, and would, it was
naturally inferred, make a tenfold effort when his teeth were the
objects of attack.
"Even suppose we could tie the poor unfortunate victim," said the
quarter-master, "who knows how to pull out these great big teeth? We
might break his jaw in the operation."
There was a long pause.
"I dare say," at length cried one of the party, "that the doctor's
mate, who is a good-natured gentleman, would be so kind as to tell us
how we can manage this affair."
A deputation of the monkey's friends was accordingly despatched to
present a humble petition to the surgeon's assistant, praying that he
would be graciously pleased to lend his professional aid in saving the
jaw, and perhaps the life, of one of the most diverting vagabonds in
his Majesty's service.
Fortunately, the assistant medico was not one of those priggish
puppies who, having little professional knowledge to balance their own
inherent stupidity, fancy it necessary to support their dignity by the
agency of etiquettes alone. He was, on the contrary, a young man of
skill, good sense, and right feelings, who cared nothing at all about
his dignity when he could be of any use; or rather, who left it to
take care of itself, without thinking of anything but his business. To
tell the truth, he was so much a lover of his art that he felt
secretly tickled with the idea of a new operation, and experienced on
the occasion that peculiar pleasure, known, it is said, only to the
faculty, when a complicated and difficult case falls into their hands.
He had just mixed a glass of grog, after the day's work was done, and
was eyeing the beverage with that sort of serene anticipation which
the sober certainty of waking bliss is sure to produce, when the
deputation made their appearance, having first sent in the boy, whose
arm was still in a sling from the bite of the monkey.
"Are you in a hurry?" said the doctor, on hearing the novel petition;
for he had nestled himself into the corner of the berth, with one foot
on the bench, the other on the table, and his glass of "half-and-half"
glowing like amber between his eye and the solitary glim of those
profound regions, those diamond mines from which the Hoods and the
Hardys of times past and times present have been drawn up to the very
tip-top of their profession.
"Yes, sir," replied the spokesman of the party. "There is no time to
be lost, for the captain, who is in a great rage, says, if we don't
extricate the monkey's grinders, overboard he goes to a certainty."
"Extricate is not the word, you blockhead; extract, I suppose you
mean. Besides, I fancy it is not his grinders which the captain has
ordered to be removed, but his eye-teeth, or tusks, as they may fairly
be called."
"Well, sir," said the impatient seaman, "just as you please, tushes or
high teeth, if you'll only be kind enough to come and help us out of
this plaguy mess, and save the poor dumb animal's life."
The quick clatter of feet up the ladders gave the signal that the
successful deputation were returning to the anxious party assembled
between the two guns just abaft the gangway-ladder, and nearly abreast
the after-hatchway, and immediate preparations were made for the
operation.
While these preparations were going on, the learned doctor had leisure
to consider the case more attentively; and it occurred to him that it
would be needless cruelty to draw the poor beast's tusks, and
therefore he exchanged that too well-known instrument, the dentist's
key, for a pair of bone-nippers, with which he proposed merely to
break off the points.
"I don't know exactly about that," said the perplexed quarter-master,
when the assistant surgeon explained his views of the matter. "The
captain said to me, 'Draw those wild bear's tushes out of him;' and I
am afraid, if they are only broken, the monkey may still have a chance
for going astern."
"Nonsense, nonsense!" interrupted the judicious doctor. "Can you
suppose the captain wished that anything should he done to the animal
but just enough to prevent his biting the people?"
And, suiting the action to the word, he closed the fatal pincers, and
nipped away the ends of the offending tusks, it is to be hoped without
causing him any great pain. But although poor Jacko probably did not
suffer much, his rage knew no bounds; and no sooner was the canvas
unfolded, than he sprang towards the after-hatchway, and catching the
sergeant's hand in his mouth, closed his jaws with all his force.
Instinctively the soldier's cane was in the air, but a dozen voices
roared out, "He can't bite! He has got no tushes left! Don't hit him!"
And, sure enough, although Mr. St. Jago gnawed and struggled, he could
make no impression on the well-tanned fist of the veteran, but, at
length, slunk off quite abashed, amidst the shouts and laughter of the
crew.
When the ship came to England, and was paid off, I turned over the
monkey to the boatswain, who always remains in the ship, whence he
found his way back to his old haunts in Exeter 'Change, after an
absence of nearly three years; for happening one day, not long after
the ship was paid off, to be in attendance upon a party seeing the
wild beasts, one of the monkeys set up such a chattering in his cage,
that he attracted the attention of the keeper of the establishment.
"That animal seems to know you, sir," said he to me; and upon going
nearer, I discovered my old and mischievous friend grinning with
delight. I must own, indeed, that my heart smote me a little as I
looked at the broken teeth, while the poor fellow held out his paw to
catch my hand, in the spirit of perfect kindness and forgiveness.
A far different fate, I am sorry to record, befell another monkey of
mine, in another ship, and in a very different quarter of the globe. I
was then in command of the Lyra, on the homeward voyage from China,
after the embassy under Lord Amherst had been concluded. We touched on
our way to Calcutta at the Philippine Islands, and, amongst other live
stock, laid in a monkey which had seen the world. He was born, they
assured us, at Teneriffe, bred at Cadiz, and had afterwards made the
voyage across the Pacific Ocean, _via_ Lima and Acapulco, to Manilla.
Our extensive traveller had made good use of his time and
opportunities, and was destined to see a good deal more of men and
manners, indeed almost to make out the circuit of the globe. This
distinguished monkey had a particular liking for the marines, who
caressed and fed him, and sometimes even ventured to teach him to play
off tricks on Jack, which the sailors promised one day to pay back
with interest on the soldiers. In so diminutive a vessel as a ten-gun
brig, there is but a small party of marines, merely a sergeant's
guard, and no commissioned officer, otherwise I hardly think the
following trick would have been attempted.
One Sunday, while going the formal division rounds, I came to a figure
which at first sight puzzled me not a little. This was no other than
our great traveller, the monkey, rigged out as a marine, and planted
like a sentry on the middle step of the short ladder, which, in
deep-waisted vessels, is placed at the gangway, and reaches from the
deck to the top of the bulwark. The animal was dressed up in a
complete suit of miniature uniform, made chiefly of the coloured
buntin used for flags with sundry bits of red baize purloined from the
carpenters. His regimental cap was constructed out of painted canvas;
and under his lower jaw had been forced a stock of pump-leather, so
stiff in itself, and so tightly drawn back, that his head was rendered
totally immoveable. His chin, and great part of the cheeks, had been
shaved with so much care, that only two small curled mustachios and a
respectable pair of whiskers remained. His hair behind being tied back
tightly into a queue, the poor devil's eyes were almost starting from
his head; while the corners of his mouth being likewise tugged towards
the ears by the hair-dresser's operations, the expression of his
countenance became irresistibly ludicrous. The astonished recruit's
elbows were then brought in contact and fastened behind by a lashing,
passed round and secured to the middle step of the ladder, so that he
could not budge an inch from his position. One of the ship's pistols,
fashioned like a musket, and strapped to his shoulder, was tied to his
left hand, which again had been sewed by the sail-maker to the
waistband of his beautifully pipe-clayed trousers; in short, he was
rigged up as a complete sea-soldier in full uniform.
As the captain and his train approached, the monkey began to tremble
and chatter; but the men, not knowing how their chief might relish the
joke, looked rather grave, while, I own, it cost me no small official
struggle to keep down a laugh. I did succeed, however, and merely
said, in passing, "You should not play these tricks upon travellers;
cast him loose immediately." One of the men pulled his knife from his
breast, and cutting the cord which fastened the poor Spaniard to the
ladder, let him scamper off. Unluckily for the gravity of the
officers, however, and that of the crew, Jacko did not run below, or
jump into one of the boats out of sight, but made straight for his
dear friends the marines, drawn up in line across our little
hurricane-house of a poop. Unconscious of the ridicule he was bringing
on his military patrons, he took up a position in front of the corps,
not unlike a fugleman; and I need hardly say, that even the royals
themselves, provoked though they were, now joined in the laugh which
soon passed along the decks, and was with difficulty suppressed during
the remainder of the muster.
A day or two afterwards, and while the monkey was still puzzled to
think what was the matter with his chin, he happened to observe the
doctor engaged in some chemical process. As his curiosity and desire
for information were just such as ought to characterize a traveller of
his intelligence, he crept gradually from chest to chest, and from bag
to bag, till he arrived within about a yard of Apothecaries' Hall, as
that part of the steerage was named by the midshipmen. Poor Mono's
delight was very great as he observed the process of pill-making,
which he watched attentively while the ingredients were successively
weighed, pounded, and formed into a long roll of paste. All these
proceedings excited his deepest interest. The doctor then took his
spreader, and cut the roll into five pieces, each of which he intended
to divide into a dozen pills. At this stage of the process, some one
called the pharmacopoeist's attention to the hatchway. The instant his
back was turned, the monkey darted on the top of the medicine-chest,
snapped up all the five masses of pill stuff, stowed them hastily
away in his pouch, or bag, at the side of his mouth, scampered on
deck, and leaped into the main rigging, preparatory to a leisurely
feast upon his pilfered treasures.
The doctor's first feeling was that of anger at the abstraction of his
medicines; but in the next instant, recollecting that unless immediate
steps were taken, the poor animal must inevitably be poisoned, he
rushed on deck, without coat or hat, and knife in hand, to the great
surprise and scandal of the officer of the watch.
"Lay hold of the monkey, some of you!" roared the doctor to the
people. "Jump up in the rigging, and try to get out of his pouch a
whole mess of my stuff he has run off with!"
The men only laughed, as they fancied the doctor must be cracked.
"For any sake," cried the good-natured physician, "don't make a joke
of this matter. The monkey has now in his jaws more than a hundred
grains of calomel, and unless you get it from him, he will die to a
certainty!"
Literally, the quantity Jacko had purloined, had it been prescribed,
would have been ordered in these terms:--
Rx Hydrargyri submuriatis, 3ij. (Take of calomel 120 grains!)
This appeal, which was quite intelligible, caused an immediate rush of
the men aloft; but the monkey, after gulping down one of the lumps, or
twenty-four grains, shot upwards to the top, over the rail of which he
displayed his shaven countenance, and, as if in scorn of their
impotent efforts to catch him, plucked another lump from his cheek,
and swallowed it likewise, making four dozen grains to begin with. The
news spread over the ship; and all hands, marines inclusive, most of
whom had never been farther in the rigging than was necessary to hang
up a wet shirt to dry, were seen struggling aloft to rescue the poor
monkey from his sad fate. All their exertions were fruitless; for just
as the captain of the maintop seized him by the tail, at the starboard
royal yard-arm, he was cramming the last batch of calomel down his
throat!
It would give needless pain to describe the effects of swallowing the
whole of this enormous prescription. Every art was resorted to within
our reach in the shape of antidotes, but all in vain. The stomach-pump
was then, unfortunately, not invented. Poor Jacko's sufferings, of
course, were great: first, he lost the use of his limbs, then he
became blind, next paralytic; and, in short, he presented, at the end
of the week, such a dreadful spectacle of pain, distortion, and
rigidity of limb, that I felt absolutely obliged to desire that he
might be released from his misery, by being thrown into the sea. This
was accordingly done when the ship was going along, for the British
Channel, at the rate of seven or eight knots, with a fine fair wind.
Very shortly afterwards it fell calm, and next day the wind drew round
to the eastward. It continued at that point till we were blown fifty
leagues back, and kept at sea so much longer than we had reckoned
upon, that we were obliged to reduce our daily allowance of provisions
and water to a most painfully small quantity. The sailors unanimously
ascribed the whole of our bad luck to the circumstance of the monkey
being thrown overboard.
I had all my nautical life been well aware that a cat ought never to
be so treated; but never knew, till the fate of this poor animal
acquainted me with the fact, that a monkey is included in Jack's
superstition.
In the same vessel, and on the same voyage to China, the sailors had
another pet, of a very singular description; viz. a pig--literally a
grunter: nor do I believe there ever was a favourite more deeply
cherished, or more sincerely lamented after her singular exit. On our
sailing from England, six little sows, of a peculiarly fine breed, had
been laid in by my steward. In the course of the voyage, five of these
fell under the relentless hands of the butcher; but one of the six,
being possessed of a more graceful form than belonged to her sister
swine, and kept as clean as any lap-dog, was permitted to run about
the decks, amongst the goats, sheep, dogs, and monkeys of our little
ark. The occurrence of two or three smart gales of wind off the Cape
of Good Hope, and the unceremonious entrance of sundry large seas,
swept the decks of most of our live stock, excepting only this one
pig, known amongst the crew by the pet name of Jean. During the bad
weather off the Bank of Aguilhas, her sowship was stowed in the launch
on the booms, and never seen, though often enough heard; but when we
hauled up to the northward, and once more entered the trade-winds, on
our course to the Straits of Sunda, by which entrance we proposed to
gain the Java Sea, Miss Jean was again allowed to range about the
decks at large, and right happy she seemed, poor lady, to exchange the
odious confinement of the longboat for the freedom of the open waist.
In warm latitudes, the men, as I have mentioned before, generally
take their meals on deck, and it was Jean's grand amusement, as well
as business, to cruise along amongst the messes, poking her snout into
every bread-bag, and very often she scalded her tongue in the
soup-kids. Occasionally, the sailors, to show the extent of their
regard, amused themselves by pouring a drop of grog down her throat. I
never saw her fairly drunk, however, but twice; upon which occasions,
as was to be expected, she acted pretty much like a human being in the
same hoggish predicament. Whether it was owing to this high feeding,
or to the constant scrubbing which her hide received from sand,
brushes, and holystones, I know not, but she certainly grew and
flourished at a most astonishing rate, and every day waxed more and
more impudent and importunate at the dinner-hour. I saw a good deal of
this familiarity going on, but had no idea of the estimation Jean was
held in, till one day, when we were about half-way across the China
Sea, and all our stock of sheep, fowls, and ducks, was expended, I
said to the steward, "You had better kill the pig, which, if properly
managed, will last till we reach Macao."
The servant stood for some time fumbling with his hair, and shuffling
with his feet, muttering something to himself.
"Don't you hear?" I asked. "Kill the pig; and let us have the fry
to-day; the head with plenty of port wine, as mock-turtle soup,
to-morrow; and get one of the legs roasted for dinner on Saturday."
Off he went; but in half-an-hour returned, on some pretence or other,
when he took occasion to ask,--
"Did you say Jean was to be killed, sir?"
"Jean! Who is Jean?--Oh, now I remember; the pig. Yes, certainly. Why
do you bother and boggle so about killing a pig?"
"The ship's company, sir--"
"Well; what have the ship's company to say to my pig?"
"They are very fond of Jean, sir."
"The devil they are! Well; what then?"
"Why, sir, they would take it as a great kindness if you would not
order her to be killed. She is a great pet, sir, and comes to them
when they call her by name, like a dog. They have taught her not to
venture abaft the mainmast; but if you only call her, you'll see that
what I say is true."
"Indeed! I'll soon try that experiment;" and seized my hat to go on
deck.
"Shall I tell the butcher to hold fast?" asked Capewell.
"Of course!" I exclaimed. "Of course!"
Off shot the steward like an arrow; and I could soon distinguish the
effect of the announcement, by the intermission of those horrible
screams which ever attend the execution of the pig tribe, all which
sounds were instantly terminated on the seizings being cut that tied
poor Jean's legs.
On reaching the quarter-deck, I told what had passed to the officer of
the watch, who questioned its propriety a little, I thought, by the
tone of his answer. I, however, called out "Jean! Jean!" and in a
moment the delighted pig came prancing along. So great, in fact, was
her anxiety to answer the call, as if to show her sense of the
trifling favour I had just conferred upon her, that she dashed towards
us, tripped up the officer's heels, and had I not caught him, he
would have come souse on the deck. Even as it was, he indulged in a
growl, and muttered out,--
"You see, sir, what your yielding to such whims brings upon us."
I said nothing, and only took care in future to caution my friends to
mind their footing when Jean was summoned aft, which, I allow, was
very often; for there was no resisting the exhibition to all strangers
of such a patent pet as this. To the Chinese in particular our comical
favourite became an object of the highest admiration, for the natives
of the celestial empire soon recognized in this happiest of swine the
celebrated breed of their own country. Many a broad hint I got as to
the acceptable nature of such a present, but I was deaf to them all;
for I felt that Jean now belonged more to the ship's company than to
myself, and that there was a sort of obligation upon me neither to eat
her nor to give her away.
Under this tacit guarantee she gained so rapidly in size, fat, and
other accomplishments, that, on our return to China, after visiting
Loo Choo and other islands of the Japan Sea, the gentlemen of the
factory would hardly credit me that this huge monster was the same
animal. In talking of Jean's accomplishments, I must not be understood
to describe her as a learned pig; for she could neither play cards,
solve quadratic equations, nor perform any of those feats which
enchant and astonish the eyes of the citizens of London and elsewhere,
where many dogs and hogs are devoutly believed to be vested with a
degree of intelligence rather above than below the average range of
human intellect. Far from this, honest Jean could do little or nothing
more than eat, drink, sleep, and grunt; in which respects she was
totally unrivalled, and the effect of her proficiency in these
characteristic qualities became daily more manifest. At first, as I
have mentioned, when her name was called from any part of the ship,
she would caper along, and dash impetuously up to the group by whom
she was summoned. But after a time she became so excessively fat and
lazy that it required many a call to get her to move, and the offer of
a slice of pine-apple, or a handful of lychees, or even the delicious
mangosteen, was now hardly enough to make her open her eyes, though in
the early stages of the voyage she had been but too thankful for a
potato, or the skin of an apple. As she advanced in fatness, she lost
altogether the power of walking, and expected the men to bring the
good things of their table to her, instead of allowing her to come for
them.
At the time of Sir Murray Maxwell's attack on the batteries of Canton,
the Lyra, under my command, was lying at Macao, and during our stay
the brig was visited by many of the Chinese authorities. We were also
watched by a fleet of men-of-war junks, and had some reason to suppose
that we might have a brush with them. In that event, I think our worst
chance would have consisted in the enthusiasm with which the Chinese
admiral, captains, and crews, would have fought to have put themselves
in possession of such a prize as Jean.
While things were in this interesting position, I received orders to
get under weigh, and run up the Canton river to Wampoa. Off we set,
escorted by the Chinese fleet of a dozen sail of junks. The wind was
against us, but we soon beat up to the Bogue, and passed, unharmed,
the batteries, which, to use Lord Nelson's expression, Captain
Maxwell had made to look very like a plum-pudding. We had scarcely
anchored at Second Bar, in the midst of the grand fleet of tea ships,
when we were boarded by a host of Chinese mandarins and Hong
merchants, wearing all the variety of buttons by which ranks are
distinguished in that well-classified land. This was not to compliment
us, or to offer us assistance, or even to inquire our business. One
single object seemed to engage all their thoughts and animate the
curiosity of half the province of Quantung. The fame of our fat sow
Jean, in short, had far outrun the speed of the Lyra, and nothing was
heard on every hand but the wondering exclamations of the natives,
screaming out in admiration, "High-yaw! High-yaw!"
We had enough to do to clear the ship at night of these our visitors,
but we were by no means left in solitude; for the Lyra's anchorage was
completely crowded with native boats. The motive of all this attention
on the part of the Chinese was not merely pure admiration of Jean; the
fact is, the acute Chinese, skilled especially in hog's flesh, saw
very well that our pet pig was not long for this world, and knowing
that if she died a natural death, we should no more think of eating
her than one of our own crew; and having guessed also that we had no
intention of "killing her to save her life," they very reasonably
inferred that ere long this glorious _bonne bouche_ would be at their
disposal.
Our men, who soon got wind of this design on the part of the Chinese,
became quite outrageous against Fukee, as the natives are called, and
would hardly permit any visitors to come near their favourite, lest
they should accelerate her inevitable fate by poison. At length poor
dear Jean gave token of approaching dissolution; she could neither
eat, nor drink, nor even grunt; and her breathing was like that of a
broken bellows: in short, she died! Every art was taken to conceal the
melancholy event from the Chinese; but somehow or other it got abroad,
for the other English ships were deserted, and long before sunset a
dense mass of boats, like a floating town, was formed astern and on
both quarters of the Lyra.
The sailors now held a grand consultation as to what was to be done;
and after much discussion, and many neat and appropriate speeches, it
was unanimously resolved that the mortal remains of the great sow now
no more should be deposited in the mud of the river of Canton, in such
a way that the most dexterous and hungry inhabitant of the celestial
empire should not be able to fish her up again.
As soon as it was quite dark, and all the Chinese boats sent, as
usual, beyond the circle limited by the ship's buoys, the defunct
pig's friends set to work to prepare for her obsequies. The chief
object was to guard against the ravenous natives hearing the splash,
as she went overboard; and next, that she should not afterwards float
to the surface. The first point was easily accomplished, as will be
seen presently; but there was a long debate, in whispers, amongst the
men, as to the most expedient plan of keeping the body of their late
pet from once more showing her snout above the stream. At length, it
was suggested by the coxswain of one of the boats which had been sent
during the morning to sound the passage, that as the bed of the river
where the brig lay consisted of a deep layer of mud, it would be a
good thing if Jean's remains could be driven so far into this soft
stratum as to lie below the drags and hooks of the Chinese.
This advice was much applauded, and at once acted upon with that happy
facility of resource which it is the pride of the profession to have
always in store for small as well as for great occasions. The dead sow
was first laid on its back, and then two masses of iron ballast, being
placed one on each side of the cheek, were lashed securely to the neck
and shoulders in such a manner that the ends of the kentlage met
across her nose, and formed, as it was very properly called, an extra
snout for piercing the mud.
When all was ready, the midship carronade was silently dismounted, the
slide unbolted, and the whole removed out of the way. Jean's enormous
corporation being then elevated, by means of capstan bars and
handspikes, was brought on a level with the port-sill. A slip-rope was
next passed between her hind legs, which had been tied together at the
feet; and poor Miss Piggy, being gradually pushed over the ship's
side, was lowered slowly into the water. When fairly under the
surface, and there were no fears of any splash being caused by letting
her go, one end of the rope was cast off, upon which the well-loaded
carcass shot down perpendicularly at such a rate that there could be
no question of its being immersed a fathom deep, at least, in the mud,
and, of course, far beyond the reach of the disappointed Chinese!
CHAPTER XIV.
DOUBLING THE CAPE.
As our merry little ship approached the far-famed Cape of Good Hope, I
often remained on deck after the watch was out, feasting my eyes on
the sight of constellations known to me before only by name, and as
yet scarcely anchored in my imagination. Each succeeding night, as the
various clusters rose, crossed the meridian, and sunk again into the
western waves, we came more and more into the way, not only of
speaking, but thinking of them, under their conventional titles of
hydras, doves, toucans, phoenixes, and flying-fish, not forgetting the
enormous southern whale, whose beautiful eye, called Fomalhaut, while
it flames in the zenith of the Cape, is hardly known to the
astronomers of this country, from its greatest altitude, as seen by
them, not being ten degrees.
But of all the Antarctic constellations, the celebrated Southern Cross
is by far the most remarkable, and must, in every age, continue to
arrest the attention of all voyagers and travellers who are fortunate
enough to see it. I think it would strike the imagination even of a
person who had never heard of the Christian religion; but of this it
is difficult to judge, seeing how inextricably our own ideas are
mingled up with associations linking this sacred symbol with almost
every thought, word, and deed of our lives. The three great stars
which form the Cross, one at the top, one at the left arm, and one,
which is the chief star, called Alpha, at the foot, are so placed as
to suggest the idea of a crucifix, even without the help of a small
star, which completes the horizontal beam. When on the meridian, it
stands nearly upright; and as it sets, we observe it lean over to the
westward. I am not sure whether, upon the whole, this is not more
striking than its gradually becoming more and more erect as it rises
from the east. In every position, however, it is beautiful to look at,
and well calculated, with a little prompting from the fancy, to stir
up our thoughts to solemn purpose. I know not how others are affected
by such things; but, for myself, I can say with truth, that, during
the many nights I have watched the Southern Cross, I remember no two
occasions when the spectacle interested me exactly in the same way,
nor any one upon which I did not discover the result to be somewhat
different, and always more impressive, than what I had looked for.
This constellation being about thirty degrees from the south pole, is
seen in its whole revolution, and, accordingly, when off the Cape, I
have observed it in every stage, from its triumphant erect position,
between sixty and seventy degrees above the horizon, to that of
complete inversion, with the top beneath, and almost touching the
water. This position, by the way, always reminded me of the death of
St. Peter, who is said to have deemed it too great an honour to be
crucified with his head upwards. In short, I defy the stupidest mortal
that ever lived to watch these changes in the aspect of this splendid
constellation, and not to be in some degree struck by them.
These airy visions are sometimes curiously broken in upon by the most
common-place incidents, which force us back upon ordinary life. On the
28th of May we overtook a packet on her way to the Brazils from
England, which had sailed more than a month after us, but she had not
a single newspaper, army list, navy list, or review on board. The mate
was totally ignorant of all the interesting topics of that most
interesting moment of the war (1812); and in reply to all our
questions, merely observed that everything was just the same as when
we left England. The captain was ill in bed, and could not be spoken
to, so that this intelligent gentleman, his chief officer, had been
lugged on deck to tell the news. He honestly confessed, after being
sufficiently baited and badgered by our interrogatories, that even
when in England he had no time to look at the newspapers, but that he
left public affairs to the management of those whose business it was
to look after them, while he found enough to do in looking after the
packet.
"I dare say," added the fellow, with rather more dryness of humour
than we had imagined was in his doughy composition, "I dare say the
whole story you are asking about, of Buonaparte and the Russians, is
told very exactly in these bags (pointing to the mail), and if I
deliver them safe at Rio, it will be wrong to say I bring no news."
On the 4th of June we had a jollification in honour of good old King
George the Third's birthday. In how many different parts of the world,
and with what deep and affectionate sincerity, were cups quaffed and
cheers rung out in the same loyal cause! If sailors would tell the
truth, we should find that when abroad and far away, they generally
use their distant friends as the captain, mentioned some time ago, did
his ship's company's European clothing--stow them away for a future
occasion. I do not say that they forget or neglect their friends; they
merely put them by in safety for a time. In fact, as the song says, a
sailor's heart and soul have plenty to do "in every port," to keep
fully up to the companionships which are present, without moping and
moaning over the remembrance of friends at a distance, who, in like
manner no doubt, unship us also, more or less, from their thoughts, if
not from their memory, for the time being; and it is all right and
proper that it should be so.
On the 5th of June we parted from our convoy, the China ships; and,
alas! many a good dinner we lost by that separation. Our course lay
more to the left, or eastward, as we wished to look in at the Cape of
Good Hope, while those great towering castles, the tea ships, could
not afford time for play, but struck right down to the southward, in
search of the westerly winds which were to sweep them half round the
globe, and enable them to fetch the entrance of the China seas in time
to save the monsoon to Canton. Each ship sent a boat to us with
letters for England, to be forwarded from the Cape. This was probably
their last chance for writing home; so that, after the accounts
contained in these dispatches reached England, their friends would
hear nothing of them till they presented themselves eighteen months
afterwards. Neither did they expect to know what was passing at home
till they should touch at St. Helena, on the return voyage, in the
latter end of the following year.
I remember looking over the lee-gangway next day, at the first blush
of the dawn, during the morning watch, and I could barely distinguish
the fleet far to leeward, with their royals just showing above the
horizon. On taking leave of our convoy, we were reminded that there is
always something about the last, the very last look of any object,
which brings with it a feeling of melancholy. On this occasion,
however, we had nothing more serious to reproach ourselves with than
sundry impatient execrations with which we had honoured some of our
slow-moving, heavy-sterned friends, when we were compelled to shorten
sail in a fair wind, in order to keep them company. A smart frigate
making a voyage with a dull-sailing convoy reminds one of the child's
story of the provoking journey made by the hare with a drove of oxen.
Our merry attendants, the flying-fish, and others which swarmed about
us in the torrid zone, refused to see us across the tropic, and the
only aquatics we fell in with afterwards were clumsy whales and
grampuses, and occasionally a shoal of white porpoises. Of birds there
were plenty, especially albatrosses. The captain, being a good shot
with a ball, brought down one of these, which measured seven feet
between the tips of the wings. I have several times seen them twelve
feet; and I heard a well-authenticated account of one measuring
sixteen feet from tip to tip. On the 22nd of June we came in sight of
the high land on the northern part of the peninsula of the Cape of
Good Hope, the far-famed Table Mountain, which looked its character
very well, and really did not disappoint us, though, in general, its
height, like that of most high lands, is most outrageously exaggerated
in pictures. The wind failed us during the day, and left us rolling
about till the evening, when the breeze came too late to be of much
use. Next day we rounded the pitch of the Cape, but it blew so strong
from the northward, right out of False Bay, accompanied by rain and a
high sea, that we found it no easy job to hold our own, much less to
gain the anchorage. But on the 24th of June, the day after, the wind
moderated and became fair, the weather cleared up, and we sailed
almost into Simon's Bay, a snug little nook at the north-western angle
of False Bay. It then fell calm, but the boats of the men-of-war at
anchor, his Majesty's ships Lion, Nisus, and Galatea, soon towed us
into our berth. During the winter of that hemisphere, which
corresponds to our northern summer, the only safe quarters for ships
is in Simon's Bay, on the south side of the Cape peninsula.
I have a perfect recollection of the feelings with which I leaped out
of the boat, and first set foot on the continent of Africa, but am
prevented from describing these poetical emotions by the remembrance,
equally distinct, of the more engrossing anxiety which both my
companion and myself experienced about our linen, then on its way to
the laundress in two goodly bundles. For the life of me, I cannot
separate the grand ideas suitable to the occasion, from the base
interests connected with cotton shirts and duck trousers. And such is
the tormenting effect of association, that when I wish to dwell upon
the strange feelings, partly professional and partly historical,
caused by actually gazing on the identical Cape of Good Hope, a spot
completely hammered into the memory of all sailors, straightway I
remember the bitter battling with the washer-folks of Simon's Town
touching the rate of bleaching shirts: and both the sublime and the
beautiful are lost in the useful and ridiculous.
The 3rd of July was named for sailing; but the wind, which first came
foul, soon lulled into a calm, then breezed up again; and so on
alternately, baffling us in all our attempts to get to sea. Nor was it
till the 5th that we succeeded in forcing our way out against a smart
south-easter, with a couple of reefs in the topsails, and as much as
we could do to carry the mainsail. A westerly current sweeps at all
seasons of the year round the Cape of Good Hope, and sometimes proves
troublesome enough to outward-bound ships. This stream is evidently
caused by the trade-wind in the southern parts of the Indian ocean.
For three days we were bamboozled with light south-easterly airs and
calms, but on the 8th of July, which is the depth of winter in that
hemisphere, there came on a spanking snuffler from the north-west,
before which we spun two hundred and forty miles, clean off the reel,
in twenty-four hours.
Nothing is more delightful than the commencement of such a fair wind.
The sea is then smooth, and the ship seems literally to fly along; the
masts and yards bend forwards, as if they would drop over the bows,
while the studding-sail booms crack and twist, and, unless great care
be taken, sometimes break across; but still, so long as the surface of
the sea is plane it is astonishing what a vast expanse of canvas may
be spread to the rising gale. By-and-bye, however, it becomes prudent
to take in the royals, flying-jib, and top-gallant studding-sails. The
boatswain takes a look at the gripes and other fastenings of the boats
and booms; the carpenter instinctively examines the port-lashings, and
draws up the pump-boxes to look at the leathers; while the gunner sees
that all the breechings and tackles of the guns are well secured
before the ship begins to roll. The different minor heads of
departments, also, to use their own phrase, smell the gale coming on,
and each in his respective walk gets things ready to meet it. The
captain's and gun-room steward beg the carpenter's mate to drive down
a few more cleats and staples, and, having got a cod-line or two from
the boatswain's yeoman, or a hank of marline stuff, they commence
double lashing all the tables and chairs. The marines' muskets are
more securely packed in the arm-chest. The rolling tackles are got
ready for the lower yards, and the master, accompanied by the gunner's
mate, inspects the lanyards of the lower rigging. All these, and
twenty other precautions are taken in a manner so slow and deliberate
that they would hardly catch the observation of a passenger. It might
also seem as if the different parties were afraid to let out the
secret of their own lurking apprehension, but yet were resolved not to
be caught unprepared.
Of these forerunners of a gale none is more striking than the repeated
looks of anxiety which the captain casts to windward, as if his
glance could penetrate the black sky lowering in the north-west, in
order to discover what was behind, and how long with safety he might
carry sail. Ever and anon he shifts his look from the wind's eye, and
rests it on the writhing spars aloft, viewing with much uneasiness the
stretching canvas all but torn from the yards. He then steps below,
and for the fortieth time reads off the barometer. On returning to the
deck he finds that, during the few minutes he has been below, the
breeze has freshened considerably, or, it may be, that, coming
suddenly upon it again, he views it differently. At all events, he
feels the necessity of getting the sails in while he yet can, or
before "God Almighty takes them in for him," as the sailors say when
matters have been so long deferred, that not only canvas and yards,
but even masts, are at times suddenly wrenched out of the ship, and
sent in one confused mass far off to leeward, whirling in the gale!
The men, who are generally well aware of the necessity of shortening
sail long before the captain has made up his mind to call the hands
for that purpose, have probably been collected in groups for some time
in different parts of the upper deck, talking low to one another, and
looking aloft with a start, every now and then, as the masts or yards
give an extra crack.
"Well! this is packing on her," says one, laying an emphasis on the
word "is."
"Yes!" replies another; "and if our skipper don't mind, it will be
packing off her presently," with an emphasis on the word "off." "Right
well do I know these Cape gales," adds an ancient mariner of the
South Seas; "they snuffle up in a minute; and, I'll answer for it, the
captain will not carry sail so long off Cape Aguilhas, when he has
gone round that breezy point as often as old Bill has."
At this moment the tardy voice of the commander, long unwilling to
lose any part of the fair wind, is at length heard, giving the
reluctant order, "Turn the hands up, shorten sail!" The ready clatter
of feet, and the show of many heads at all the hatchways, and
perhaps the sound of a suppressed laugh amongst the men who have been
gossiping and wagering about the gale, give sufficient indication that
this evolution has been expected for some time.
"All hands shorten sail!" calls out the boatswain, after a louder and
sharper note than usual from his pipe, winded not half the ordinary
length of time, though twice as shrilly; for his object is to mark on
the ears of the people the necessity of unusual expedition and
exertion. A clever and experienced person filling this important
situation will soon teach the men to distinguish between the various
notes of his call, though to unpractised ears the sounds might appear
unvaried.
"Shorten sail! that's easier said than done," growls forth some
hard-up old cock.
"No! not a bit easier said than done," unexpectedly observes the
captain, but quite good-humouredly, having accidentally heard the
seaman's remark. "Not a bit, old fellow, if you and the young hands
only work as smartly and cheerfully as I know you can do when you have
a mind. Come, my lads, are you all ready forward?"
It is a trying moment both for the sails and yards, when the order is
actually given to commence shortening sail; if the pressure from the
wind be considerable, it is necessary to have men stationed to lower
away the haulyards and ease off the tacks at the proper moment, while
others gather in the sails as they come down, fluttering a little
perhaps, if not carefully managed, but still quietly and easily, as
well as quickly. When, however, the wind has risen to a pitch beyond
its due proportion to the canvas spread, and the captain's anxiety to
make the most of a fair wind has tempted him to carry on too long, the
case becomes very difficult, the ropes which keep the sails in their
places contributing also an important share to the support of those
spars to which the sails are bent, or to which they may be hauled out.
Consequently, the moment the ropes alluded to, which are technically
named the haulyards and tacks, are slackened, the yards and booms,
being suddenly deprived of these material supports, are very apt to be
sprung, that is, cracked across, or even carried away, which means
being snapped right in two as short as a carrot, to use Jack's very
appropriate simile.
It is quite true, that lowering away the sail and easing off the tack
of a studding-sail does diminish the pressure of the sail on the spar,
and, of course, both the yard and the boom have less duty to perform.
Still, the moment which succeeds the order to "Lower away!" is
especially trying to the nerves of the officer who is carrying on the
duty. I have not unfrequently seen comparatively young officers handle
the sails and yards of a ship with perfect ease, from their superior
mechanical knowledge, at times when the oldest sailors on board were
puzzled how to get things right. One officer, for instance, may
direct the preparations for shortening sail to be made according to
the most orthodox rules laid down in Hamilton Moor's "Examination of a
Young Sea Officer," and yet when he comes to give the fatal word,
"Lower away! haul down!" everything shall go wrong. The tack being
eased off too soon, the spar breaks in the middle, and the poor
topmast studding-sail is spitted like a lark on the broken stump of
the boom, while the lower studding-sail, driven furiously forward by
the squall, is pierced by the spritsail yard-arm, the cat-head, and
the bumpkin; or it may be wrapped round the bowsprit, like so much wet
drapery in the inimitable Chantrey's studio over the clay figure of an
Indian bishop.
"What the blue blazes shall I do next?" moans the poor puzzled officer
of the watch, who sees this confusion caused entirely by his own bad
management. On such an occasion, a kind and considerate captain will
perhaps fairly walk below, and so leave the mortified youth to get
himself out of the scrape as he best can, and rather lose a small
spar, or a bolt of canvas, than expose his officer to the humiliation
of having the task transferred to another; or he will edge himself
near the embarrassed officer, and, without the action being detected
by any one else, whisper a few magical words of instruction in the
young man's ear, by which the proper train of directions are set
agoing, and the whole confusion of ropes, sails, and yards, speedily
brought into order. If this fails, the hands are called, upon which
the captain himself, or more generally the first lieutenant, takes the
trumpet; and the men, hearing the well-known, confident voice of
skill, fly to the proper points, "monkey paw" the split sails, clear
the ropes, which an instant before seemed inextricably foul, and in a
very few minutes reduce the whole disaster to the dimensions of a
common occurrence. "Now, you may call the watch," says the captain;
and the reproved officer again takes charge of the deck. I need hardly
say, that any young man of spirit ought rather to wear his hands to
the bone in learning his duty, than to expose himself to such
mortification as this.
Let us, however, suppose all the extra sails taken in without
accident, and rolled up with as much haste as may be consistent with
that good order which ought never to be relaxed under any degree of
urgency. In fine weather, it is usual to place the studding-sails in
the rigging, with all their gear bent, in readiness to be whipped up
to the yard-arm at a moment's warning; but when a breeze such as we
are now considering is on the rise, it is thought best to unbend the
tacks and haulyards, and to stow the sails in some convenient place,
either on the booms, between the boats, or in the hammock-nettings.
For the same reason, the small sails are sent on deck, together with
as much top hamper as can readily be moved. These things are scarcely
bundled up and lifted out of the way before the long-expected order to
reef topsails is smartly given out, and crowds of men are seen
skipping up the tight weather-rigging, with a merry kind of alacrity,
which always makes a captain feel grateful to the fellows--I do not
well know why; for, as there is then no real danger, there seems
nothing particularly praiseworthy in this common-place exertion.
Perhaps the consciousness that a storm is coming on, during which
every nerve on board may be strained, makes the captain see with
pleasure a show of activity which, under other circumstances, may be
turned to trials of the utmost hardihood and daring.
Be this as it may, the yards come sliding down the well-greased masts;
the men lie out to the right and left, grasp the tumultuous canvas,
drag out the earings, and tie the points, with as perfect deliberation
as if it were a calm, only taking double pains to see that all is
right and tight, and the reef-band straight along the yard. The order
has been given to take in the second and third reefs only; but the men
linger at their posts, expecting the further work which they know is
necessary. The captain of the top, instead of moving in, continues to
sit astride the spar, dangling his legs under the weather yard-arm
with the end of the close reef-earing in his hand, quite as much at
his ease as any well-washed sea-bird that ever screamed defiance to a
pitiless south-wester.
Johnny's anticipations prove right, for the anxious commander, after
gazing twice or thrice to windward, again consulting his barometer,
looking six or eight times at his watch in as many minutes, to learn
how many hours of daylight are yet above the horizon, and perhaps also
stealing a professional opinion from his first lieutenant, an officer
probably of much more technical experience than himself, decides upon
close-reefing. If he be a man of sense, and wishes the work to be done
quickly and well, he must not now hesitate about starting the topsail
sheets, and it will certainly be all the better if one or both the
clew-lines be likewise hauled close up.
The mainsail is now to be taken in; and as the method of performing
this evolution has long been a subject of hot controversy at sea, I
take the opportunity of saying, that Falconer's couplet,--
"For he who strives the tempest to disarm
Will never first embrail the lee yard-arm,"
has, in my opinion, done a world of mischief, and split many thousands
of sails.
I, at least, plead guilty to having been sadly misled by this
authority for many years, since it was only in the last ship I
commanded that I learned the true way to take in the mainsail when it
blows hard. The best practice certainly is, to man both buntlines and
the lee leechline well, and then to haul the LEE clew-garnet close up,
before starting the tack or slacking the bowline. By attending to
these directions, the spar is not only instantaneously relieved, but
the leeward half of the sail walks sweetly and quietly up to the yard,
without giving a single flap. After which the weather-clew comes up
almost of itself, and without risk or trouble.
Meanwhile the ship is spinning along very nearly at the same rate as
at first, though two-thirds of the canvas have been taken off her.
These variations in speed are odd enough, and, at times, not easily
accounted for. When the breeze first comes on, all sail set, and the
water quite smooth, the ship can be steered on a straight course
without any difficulty, and she really seems to fly. When the log is
hove, it is discovered, we shall suppose, that she is going eleven
knots. Well, the wind increases, and in come the studding-sails; but
as the water is still smooth, the single-reefed topsails and
top-gallant-sails may be carried, though it is evident the ship is
rather over-pressed, or, at all events, not another stitch of sail
could be set.
"Heave the log again, and see what she goes now!" says the officer.
"How much?"
"Eleven knots and a-half, sir," replies the middy of the watch.
Presently the sea rises, the masts bend, the ship begins to stagger
along, groaning and creaking in every joint, under the severe
pressure. The topsails are close-reefed to meet the increased wind;
but still, as before, she is under quite as much canvas as she can
possibly bear.
"Heave the log now!" again says the officer. "Ten knots!" reports the
middy.
By-and-bye the courses are reefed, and before dark the mainsail is
rolled up, the fore and mizen topsails handed, and the top-gallant
yards sent on deck. The sea has now risen to a disagreeable height,
and the steering, in spite of every care, becomes wilder and much more
difficult; and as the ship forges into the breast of the waves, or
rises with a surge not much less startling, her way seems deadened for
the moment, till she bounds up again on the top of the sea, to woo, as
it were, the embraces of the rattling gale. The storm is not slow to
meet this rude invitation; while, if the ropes, sails, and masts, be
all wet, as they generally are in such a breeze, it is difficult to
conceive any tones more gruff and unsentimental than the sounds of
this boisterous courtship.
In line-of-battle ships, and even in frigates, the close-reefed
main-topsail and foresail may be carried, for a very long time, when
going nearly before the wind; and indeed it is the best seamanship to
crack on her; for when the gale rises to its highest pitch, and the
seas follow in great height, they are apt to curl fairly on board, and
play fine pranks along the decks, even if the violence of the blow on
the quarter do not broach the ship to, that is, twist her head round
towards the wind in such a way that the next sea shall break over her
gangway, and in all probability sweep away the masts. In small vessels
it becomes a most anxious period of the gale when the sea has got up
so much that it is difficult to steer steadily, and when the wind
blows so strong that enough sail cannot be carried to keep the ship
sufficiently ahead of the waves, except at the risk of tearing the
masts away. When the requisite degree of speed cannot be secured, the
inevitable consequence, sooner or later, is, that a monstrous
pea-green solid sea walks most unceremoniously on board, over the
taffrail, and dashes along the decks like those huge debacles, of
which some geologists so confidently point out the traces on the
earth's surface.
I never happened actually to witness a catastrophe of this kind on the
great scale, though I have seen one or two smartish gales in my time.
Indeed the most serious evils I recollect to have been present at
occurred on board the Volage, on the very passage to India which I am
now describing. The following are the words in which these incidents
are noticed in my journal:--
"On the 13th of July, off the Cape of Good Hope, in the midst of a
heavy winter's gale, our worthy passenger, Sir Evan Nepean, governor
of Bombay, was thrown down the ladder, by the violent rolling of the
ship; and another gentleman, the Baron Tuyll, the best-natured and
deservedly popular passenger I ever saw afloat, was very nearly
washed out of his cot by a sea which broke into the stern windows of
the captain's cabin."
I have often enough been close to wars and rumours of wars, but was
never in a regular sea-fight; and though I have also witnessed a few
shipwrecks and disasters, I never was myself in much danger of what
might be honestly called a lee shore; neither is it my good fortune to
be able to recount, from personal knowledge, any scenes of hardship or
suffering from hunger, cold, or any other misery. My whole
professional life, in short, has been one of such comparative ease and
security, that I cannot now remember ever going far beyond twenty-four
hours without a good bellyful. Still I have often been forced to take
a high degree of interest in formidable adventures of this kind, from
their happening in fleets of which my own ship formed a part, or from
these incidents including among the sufferers persons to whom I was
attached.
In the year 1815, I accompanied a convoy of homeward-bound Indiamen
from Ceylon, and a right merry part of the voyage it was while we ran
down a couple of thousand miles of the south-east trade-wind; for
these hospitable floating nabobs, the East India captains, seldom let
a day pass without feasting one another; and we, their naval
protectors, came in for no small share of the good things, for which
we could make but a poor return. Along with our fleet, there sailed
from Ceylon a large ship, hired as a transport by Government to bring
home invalid soldiers. There were about 500 souls in her; of these a
hundred were women, and more than a hundred children. I was
accidentally led to take a particular interest in this ill-fated
vessel, from the circumstance of there being four fine boys on board,
sons of a military friend of mine at Point de Galle. I had become so
well acquainted with the parents of these poor little fellows during
my frequent visits to Ceylon, that one day, before sailing, I
playfully offered to take a couple of the boys in my brig, the Victor,
an eighteen-gun sloop of war; but as I could not accommodate the whole
family, the parents, who were obliged to remain abroad, felt unwilling
to separate the children, alas! and my offer was declined.
Off we all sailed, and reached the neighbourhood of the Cape without
encountering anything in the way of an adventure; there, however,
commenced the disasters of the unfortunate Arniston, as this transport
was called. She had no chronometer on board; a most culpable and
preposterous omission in the outfit of a ship destined for such a
voyage. The master told me that he himself was not in circumstances to
purchase so expensive an instrument, the cost of a good chronometer
being at least fifty or sixty guineas, and that the owners considered
the expense needless. He also stated that on his remonstrating still
more, and urging upon these gentlemen that their property would be ten
times more secure if he were furnished with the most approved means of
taking good care of it, he was given to understand, that, if he did
not choose to take the ship to sea without a chronometer, another
captain could easily be found who would make no such new-fangled
scruples. The poor master shrugged his shoulders, and said he would do
his best; but having often rounded the Cape, he knew the difficulties
of the navigation, when there was nothing but the dead reckoning to
trust to.
During our passage from Ceylon, it was the practice every day, at one
o'clock, for the Indiamen, as well as the men-of-war, to make signals
showing the longitude of each ship by chronometer. Thus we had all an
opportunity of comparing the going of our respective time-keepers, and
thus, too, the master of the Arniston was enabled to learn his place
so accurately, that if he had only kept company with his friends the
Indiamen, each of whom was provided with at least four or five
chronometers, the deficiency in his equipment might never have led to
the dreadful catastrophe which speedily followed the loss of this
assistance.
It was late in the month of May when we reached the tempestuous
regions of the Cape; and we were not long there before a furious gale
of wind from the westward dispersed the fleet, and set every one
adrift upon his own resources. The poor Arniston was seen at sunset,
on the day the gale commenced, with most of her sails split, but not
otherwise in danger, for she had a good offing, and the wind was not
blowing on shore. Three heavy gales followed in such quick succession
during the next week, that not only the ordinary course, but the
velocity of the current was changed, and instead of running, as it
almost always does, to the westward, it set, on the days in question,
to the south-eastward. According to the most moderate allowance for
the current, all circumstances being taken into consideration, any
navigator might fairly have supposed that, in the five days which
elapsed from the 24th of May to the 28th inclusive, his ship would
have been drifted to the westward by the current at least a hundred
miles. Our chronometers, however, distinctly showed us that we had
been carried, not, as usual, to the westward, but actually to the
eastward, a distance of more than a hundred miles; so that, in less
than a week, there occurred upwards of two hundred miles of error in
the dead reckoning.
The master of the Arniston, doubtless, after making every allowance,
according to the best authorities, and working by the most exact rules
of navigation of which he could avail himself, naturally inferred that
his ship was more than a hundred miles to the westward of the Cape,
and he probably considered himself justified in bearing up before a
south-easterly gale, and steering, as he had so much reason to suppose
he was doing, straight for St. Helena.
It is very important to remark, in passing, to professional men, that
no ship off the Cape, and under any circumstances, ought ever to bear
up, without first heaving the deep sea-lead. If soundings are obtained
on the Bank, it is a sure symptom that the ship is not sufficiently
advanced to the westward to enable her to steer with safety to the
north-north-westward for St. Helena. It is clear the ship in question
must have omitted this precaution.
All that is known of this fatal shipwreck is simply that the Arniston,
with a flowing sheet, and going nine knots, ran among the breakers in
Struy's Bay, nearly a hundred miles to the eastward of the Cape. The
masts went instantly by the board, and the sea, which broke completely
over all, tore the ship to pieces in a few minutes; and out of her
whole crew, passengers, women, and children, only half-a-dozen seamen
reached the coast alive. All these could tell was, that they bore up
and made all sail for St. Helena, judging themselves well round the
Cape. This scanty information, however, was quite enough to establish
the important fact that this valuable ship, and all the lives on board
of her, were actually sacrificed to a piece of short-sighted economy.
That they might have been saved, had she been supplied with the worst
chronometer that was ever sent to sea, is also quite obvious. I am
sure practical men will agree with me, that, in assuming sixty seconds
a-day as the limit of the uncertainty of a watch's rate, I have taken
a quantity four or five times greater than there was need for. Surely
no time-keeper that was ever sold as such by any respectable
watchmaker for more than thirty or forty guineas, has been found to
go so outrageously ill as not to be depended upon for one week, within
less than ten or fifteen seconds a-day. And as I have shown that a
chronometer whose rate was uncertain, even to an extent five or six
times as great as this, would have saved the Arniston, any further
comment on such precious economy is needless.
CHAPTER XV.
SUGGESTIONS TOWARDS DIMINISHING THE NUMBER AND SEVERITY OF NAVAL
PUNISHMENTS.
I trust that most of my brother-officers who have commanded ships can
lay their hands upon their hearts and conscientiously declare they
have never inflicted an unjust punishment. I can only confess with
much sorrow, that I, unfortunately, am not of that number. But as mere
regret on such occasions contributes nothing towards remedying the
evils committed, I have long employed my thoughts in devising some
plan which might lessen the number of punishments at sea, and thus,
perhaps, save others from the remorse I have felt, while it might tend
to relieve the service from the discredit of an improper degree of
severity in its penal administration.
Before proceeding to the main point under consideration, the
diminution of the number and the degree of punishments on board ship,
I must entreat officers not to allow themselves to be misled by the
very mischievous fallacy of supposing that any of the various
substitutes which have yet been proposed for corporal punishment are
one whit less severe than those so long established. It is well known
to officers of experience that this powerful engine of discipline may
be rendered not only the most effective, but essentially the most
lenient, and when duly reported and checked, far more likely to
contribute to the peace and comfort of the men themselves, than any of
the specious but flimsy substitutes alluded to. Solitary confinement,
for example, I take to be one of the most cruel, and, generally
speaking, one of the most unjust of all punishments; for it is
incapable of being correctly measured, and it almost always renders
the offender worse. It prompts him, and gives him time to brood over
revengeful purposes; it irritates him against his officers, and if
long continued almost inevitably leads to insanity and suicide. All
the beneficial effects of example, likewise, are necessarily lost;
because the solitary culprit's sufferings, horrible though they no
doubt are, never meet the eye of the rest of the crew, nor, indeed,
can they ever be truly made known to them, while he himself, when he
quits his cell, makes light of his punishment. But not one man in a
thousand, even of our hardiest spirits, can maintain this air of
indifference at the gangway. And although it must be admitted that a
man, at such moments, can feel no great kindness to his officer, the
transient nature of the punishment, compared to the prolonged misery
of solitary confinement, leaves no time for discontent to rankle. I
never once knew, nor ever heard of an instance in which a corporal
punishment, administered calmly and with strict regard to justice and
established usage, was followed by any permanent ill-will resting on
the mind of a sailor, either towards his captain or towards the
service.
It happened to me once, when in command of a ship in the Pacific
Ocean, to have occasion to punish a very good seaman. The offence was
in some degree a doubtful one, but, upon the whole, I felt it my duty
to correct it rather sharply. On mature reflection, however, I began
to suspect I had done wrong; and on joining the commander-in-chief,
some weeks afterwards, I laid all the circumstances of the case before
him, and begged him to tell me fairly what he thought. He examined the
details minutely, cross-questioned me about them, and, after some
deliberation, said, that although I had the letter of the law with me,
I had acted hastily, which in this instance was acting unjustly; for
had I waited a little, the true bearings of the case must, he thought,
have made themselves apparent. This judgment of Sir Thomas Hardy
squared but too well with my own feelings upon the matter, and doubled
the shame I was already suffering under. From that hour to this, I
have never ceased to catch with eagerness at any suggestion which I
thought might contribute to save deserving men from a similar
misfortune, and well-disposed officers from the fatal errors of
precipitancy. A little incident has perhaps had its effect in
quickening these speculative ideas into a practical shape.
Several years after the period alluded to, I happened to be sailing
about Spithead in a gentleman's yacht, when a man-of-war's cutter came
alongside. As no officer had been sent in the boat, the message was
delivered by the coxswain, whom I did not recognize as an old shipmate
till he came to me aft, took off his hat, and held out his hand. I
then recollected the face of the seaman I had unjustly punished! To
all appearance he had entirely forgotten the circumstance: but the
commodore's words, "You ought to have let that man off," rang in my
ears, and my heart smote me as I felt the honest fellow's grasp. "I
shall never rest," I afterwards vowed to myself, "till I have
succeeded in suggesting some regulations which, as far as possible,
shall prevent other officers from falling into the same error."
It seems to be now generally admitted, by all who have attended to the
subject, that ever since the period when it became the duty of
captains to make periodical reports to the Admiralty of the corporal
punishments inflicted, those punishments have gradually decreased.
Meanwhile the discipline has gone on improving; and therefore it
becomes a matter of much practical importance to investigate the true
bearings of a measure by which such invaluable results have been
brought about. It should never be forgotten, that there is an absolute
necessity for maintaining the present strictness of our discipline,
which is one of the most essential sources of naval success; and, next
to the spirit of honour and patriotism which pervades the profession,
it may be considered the very life-blood of that branch of our
national strength. But there are two very different methods by which
this vital object of exact discipline may be accomplished: one is the
prevention, the other the punishment, of offences. Some officers have
endeavoured to do away with corporal punishment altogether; and some,
on the other hand, have had recourse to hardly anything else. The just
union of the two systems will, I believe, in the end, perform the
greatest public service, at the least cost of human suffering.[7]
Antecedent to June 1811, the date of the order by which officers in
command of ships were required to send quarterly returns of
punishments to the Admiralty, there was little or no restraint upon
the despotic authority of the captain, as far as corporal punishments
were concerned. And it must be in the recollection of every one who
served in those days, that captains, not really cruel by nature, nor
more intemperate than the ordinary run of men, were sometimes led, by
the mere indulgence of unlimited and unscrutinised authority, to use a
degree of severity not only out of proper measure with the crime, but,
by reason of its questionable justice, hurtful to the discipline of
the ships, and to the general character of the service. Such things
may also possibly have happened even of late years; but certainly,
they have been much less frequent; for although no Admiralty
regulations can convert a hot-headed captain into a cool,
experienced, or reflecting person, nevertheless, it does seem to be
quite within the legitimate range of official power, to compel all
intemperate officers, whether young or old, to behave, as far as their
nature will allow, in the same manner as men of sense, feeling, and
thorough knowledge of the service would act in like circumstances.
It is a rule, now very generally observed by the best authorities in
the Navy, never to punish a man on the day the offence has been
committed. And experience having shown the wisdom of this delay, there
seems no reason why so simple a rule should not be established
imperatively upon every captain without exception.
It is important, in discussing the subject of naval discipline, to
recollect under what peculiar and trying circumstances the captain of
a man-of-war is placed, and how much he stands in need not only of
every assistance that can possibly be afforded to guide his judgment,
but of every artificial check that can be devised to control his
temper. As he is charged with the sole executive government of the
community over which he presides, he is called upon to exercise many
of the legislative, as well as the judicial functions of his little
kingdom. Having made laws in the first instance, he has to act the
part of a judge in the interpretation of those laws; while, in the
very next instant, he may stand in the place of a jury to determine
the facts of the case, and of a counsel to cross-question the
witnesses. To this strange jumble of offices is finally added the
fearful task of allotting the punishment, and seeing it carried into
effect! If ever there was a situation in the world, therefore,
requiring all the aids of deliberation, and especially of that
sobriety of thought which a night's rest can alone bestow, it is
surely in the case of a captain of a man-of-war. And if this rule has
been found a good one, even by prudent and experienced officers, who,
it appears, never trust themselves to punish a man without twenty-four
hours' delay at least, how much more important might not such a
regulation prove, if less discreet persons were compelled to adopt
invariably a similar course of deliberation? Nor does it appear
probable that, in the whole complicated range of the service, cases
will often occur when its true interests may not be better answered by
punishments inflicted after such delay, than if the reality or the
semblance of passion, or even the slightest suspicion of anger, were
allowed to interfere with the purity of naval justice. It is so
difficult, indeed, to detach the appearance of vindictive warmth from
punishments which are made to follow quickly after the offence, that
in all such cases there is great danger incurred of inflicting much
pain to little or no purpose.
In the first place, therefore, I consider it might be very
advantageously established, by a positive order from the Admiralty,
that one whole day, or twenty-four hours complete, should, in every
instance, be allowed to elapse between the investigation of an
offence, and the infliction of the punishment which it may be thought
to deserve. The interval in question, to be of use, should take its
date from the time the circumstances of the case have been inquired
into by the captain himself. The reason of this limitation will be
apparent, if it be recollected that the moment at which the officer's
anger is likely to be the greatest, is when he first becomes
acquainted with the details of the offender's misconduct.
In order still further to circumscribe the chances of passion
interfering with the judgment, not only of the captain, but of the
officer who makes the complaint, as well as the witnesses and other
parties concerned, I think it should be directed, that all offences
whatsoever are to be inquired into between nine o'clock in the morning
and noon. This is perhaps the only period in the whole day perfectly
free from suspicion as to the influence of those exciting causes which
tend materially to warp the judgment, even of the wisest and best men.
The ship's company take their dinner and grog at mid-day, and the
officers dine soon after. To those who have witnessed in old times the
investigation and punishment of offences immediately after the cabin
dinner, the importance of this regulation will require no further
argument. At any other period of the day, except that above specified,
the irritation caused by fatigue, hunger, or repletion, is so apt to
interfere with the temper, and consequently with the judgment, that it
should never be chosen for so delicate an affair as an inquiry into
details which may be followed by so dreadful a consequence as corporal
punishment.
It is undoubtedly true, that the essential characteristics of naval
discipline are, and ought to be, promptitude of action, and that
vigorous kind of decision which leads to certainty of purpose at all
times, and under all circumstances. But these very qualities are
valueless, unless they are regulated by justice. Without this, a
man-of-war would very soon become worse than useless to the country,
besides being what a "slack ship" has been emphatically termed, "a
perfect hell afloat!"
Independently of every other consideration, it is assuredly most
desirable to establish throughout the fleet the conviction, that,
although the punishment of flogging, which has prevailed for so long a
time, cannot possibly be discontinued, it shall be exercised with a
due regard to the offence, and without any added severity on personal
grounds. It is difficult to estimate how essentially this conviction,
if once fixed in the minds of the seamen, and guaranteed, as I think
it might be, in a great measure, by a very simple Admiralty
regulation, would contribute to extend the popularity of the naval
service throughout the country.
There are some minor details, in addition to the above suggestions,
which it may be useful to consider in connection with them. All
punishments should take place between the hours of nine in the morning
and noon, for the reasons hinted at above. If possible, also, not more
than one day should be allowed to elapse after the inquiry; for,
although there is always something like passion in a punishment which
is too prompt, there may, on the other hand, frequently appear
something akin to vindictiveness in one which has been delayed until
the details of the offence are well-nigh forgotten. The captain should
avoid pronouncing, either during or immediately after the
investigation of an offence, any opinion on the case; much of its
influence would be destroyed if the captain were to commit himself by
threats made in the moment of greatest irritation; he might be apt to
follow up, when cool, a threat made in anger, to show his consistency.
I could relate many instances of injustice arising from precipitancy
in awarding punishment; but the following anecdotes, for the accuracy
of which I can vouch, seem sufficient to arrest the attention to good
purpose.
Two men-of-war happened to be cruising in company: one of them a
line-of-battle ship, bearing an admiral's flag; the other a small
frigate. One day, when they were sailing quite close to each other,
the signal was made from the large to the small ship to chase in a
particular direction, implying that a strange sail was seen in that
quarter. The look-out man at the maintop mast-head of the frigate was
instantly called down by the captain, and severely punished on the
spot, for not having discovered and reported the stranger before the
flag ship had made the signal to chase.
The unhappy sufferer, who was a very young hand, unaccustomed to be
aloft, had merely taken his turn at the mast head with the rest of the
ship's company, and could give no explanation of his apparent neglect.
Before it was too late, however, the officer of the watch ventured to
suggest to the captain, that possibly the difference of height between
the masts of the two ships might have enabled the look-out man on
board the admiral to discover the stranger, when it was physically
impossible, owing to the curvature of the earth, that she could have
been seen on board the frigate. No attention, however, was paid to
this remark, and a punishment due only to crime, or to a manifest
breach of discipline, was inflicted.
The very next day, the same officer, whose remonstrance had proved so
ineffectual, saw the look-out man at the flag ship's mast-head again
pointing out at a strange sail. The frigate chanced to be placed
nearly in the direction indicated; consequently she must have been
somewhat nearer to the stranger than the line-of-battle ship was. But
the man stationed at the frigate's mast-head declared he could
distinguish nothing of any stranger. Upon this the officer of the
watch sent up the captain of the maintop, an experienced and
quick-sighted seaman, who, having for some minutes looked in vain in
every direction, asserted positively that there was nothing in sight
from that elevation. It was thus rendered certain, or at all events
highly probable, that the precipitate sentence of the day before had
been unjust; for, under circumstances even less favourable, it
appeared that the poor fellow could not by possibility have seen the
stranger, for not first detecting which he was punished!
I must give the conclusion of this painful story in the words of my
informant, the officer of the deck:--"I reported all this to the
captain of the ship, and watched the effect. He seemed on the point of
acknowledging that his heart smote him; but pride prevailed, and it
was barely an ejaculation that escaped. So much for angry feelings
getting the better of judgment!"
The following anecdote will help to relieve the disagreeable
impression caused by the incident just related, without obliterating
the salutary reflections which it seems calculated to trace on the
mind of every well-disposed officer.
Three sailors, belonging to the watering-party of a man-of-war on a
foreign station, were discovered by their officer to have strayed from
the well at which the casks had been filled. These men, it appears,
instead of assisting in rolling the heavy butts and puncheons across
the sand, preferred indulging themselves in a glass of a most
insidious tipple, called Mistela in Spanish, but very naturally
"transmogrified" by the Jacks into Miss Taylor. The offenders being
dragged out of the pulperia, were consigned, without inquiry, to the
launch, though they had been absent only a few minutes, and were still
fit enough for work. The officer of the boat, however, happening to
be an iron-hearted disciplinarian, who overlooked nothing, and forgave
no one, would not permit the men to rejoin the working party, or to
touch a single cask; but when the boat returned to the ship, had the
three offenders put in irons.
When these circumstances were reported to the captain in the course of
the day, so much acrimony was imparted to his account by the officer,
that the captain merely said, "I shall be glad if you will defer
stating this matter more fully till to-morrow morning, after breakfast;
take the night to think of it." Tomorrow came, and the particulars
being again detailed, even more strongly and pointedly, by the
officer, the captain likewise became irritated, and under the
influence of feelings highly excited had almost ordered the men up for
immediate punishment. Acting, however, upon a rule which he had for
sometime laid down, never to chastise any one against whom he felt
particularly displeased without at least twenty-four hours' delay, he
desired the matter to stand over till the following morning.
In the meantime, the men in confinement, knowing that their offence
was a very slight one, laid their heads together, and contrived, by
the aid of the purser's steward, to pen a supplicatory epistle to the
captain. This document was conveyed to its destination by his servant,
a judicious fellow. Though it proved no easy matter to decipher the
hieroglyphics, it appeared evident that there were extenuating
circumstances which had not been brought forward. The only remark,
however, which the captain made was, that the letter ought not to have
been brought to him; and that his servant was quite out of order, in
being accessory to any proceeding so irregular.
The steward took the hint, and recommended the prisoners to appeal to
the complaining officer. Accordingly, next day, when the captain went
on deck, that person came up and said,--
"I have received a strange letter, sir, from these three fellows whom
I complained of yesterday; but what they say does not alter my opinion
in the least."
"It does mine, however," observed the captain, after he had spelled
through it, as if for the first time.
"Indeed, sir!" exclaimed the other; adding, "I hope you won't let them
off."
"I tell you what it is," quietly remarked the captain, "I would much
rather you let them off than that I should; for it strikes me, that
all the useful ends of discipline will be much better served, and your
hands, as well as mine, essentially strengthened, by your taking the
initiative in this business instead of me. My advice to you,
therefore, is, that when I go below you send for the men, and say to
them you have read their statement, and that, although it does by no
means excuse, it certainly explains, and so far extenuates, their
offence, that you feel disposed to try what your influence with the
captain can do to get them off altogether."
"I do not see the force of your reasoning," answered the offended
officer; "nor can I conscientiously trifle with the service in the
manner proposed. I thought at first, and I still think, that these men
ought to be punished; and, as far as I am concerned, they certainly
shall not escape."
"Well, well," cried the captain, "you will not, I hope, deny that I am
the best judge of what is right and fitting to be done on board this
ship; and I tell you again, that I consider the discipline will be
better served by your being the mover in this case, than by my taking
the affair, as you wish me to do, entirely out of your hands. Will you
do as I suggest?"
"I beg your pardon, sir, but really I cannot, consistently with my
sense of duty, adopt the course you propose. I think it right to
insist, as far as I can with propriety, on these men being punished."
"Turn the hands up for punishment, then!" said the captain to the
first lieutenant, who had been walking on the other side of the deck
during this colloquy; "and let the three prisoners be brought on
deck."
The gratings were soon rigged under the mizen-stay--the
quarter-masters placed with their seizings on either side--the
boatswain and his mates (with the terrible weapons of naval law barely
concealed under their jackets) arranged themselves in a group round
the mast--while the marines, with fixed bayonets and shoulder arms,
formed across the quarter-deck; and the ship's company, standing in
two double rows, lined the sides of the deck. Not the slightest sound
could be heard; and a person coming on deck blindfolded might have
thought the ship lay in dock, without a soul on board.
In the middle of the open space before the hatchway stood the three
culprits, with their hats off, and their eyes cast down in hopeless
despair; but, to all outward appearance, firm and unmoved.
When all was declared ready, the first lieutenant descended to the
cabin, but returned again almost immediately, followed closely by the
captain, in his cocked hat and sword, grasping in one hand the
well-known roll of paper containing the articles of war, and in the
other the master-at-arms' report of prisoners. Every head was
uncovered at his appearance; and as he lifted his hat in answer to
this salute, he laid it on the capstan, against which he leaned while
reading the article under which the delinquents had fallen.
"Now," said he, addressing the three prisoners, "you have been found
guilty of an offence against the good order and discipline of this
ship, which cannot be permitted, and which must positively be put a
stop to. Heretofore it has not occurred, and I trust this will be the
last case. Do you admit that you deserve punishment?"
No answer.
"Have you anything to advance why you should not be punished?"
The fellows nodged one another, scraped the deck with their feet,
fumbled with their hats and waist-bands, and muttered something about
"a letter they had written to the officer what reported them."
"Letter!" exclaimed the captain; "let me see it."
The epistle being handed to the captain, he read it aloud to the
assembled ship's company, who listened with all their ears. At the
conclusion, he folded it up, and, turning to the officer, asked,--
"What have you to say to this?"
"Nothing, sir--nothing," was the obdurate reply.
"Well now, my lads," observed the captain to the crew, after a pause
of several minutes, "I shall give you a chance. These fellows appear,
by their own confession, to have done what they knew to be wrong; and
accordingly, as you perceive, they have brought themselves close
aboard of the gangway. It would serve them all perfectly right to give
each of them a good sound punishment. But I am willing to hope, that
if I forgive them on your account--that is to say, if I let them off
in consideration of the good conduct of the ship's company, and in
confidence of your all behaving well in future--they will be quite as
much disposed to exert themselves to recover their characters, as if
they had tasted the bitterness of the gangway: at all events, I'll try
them and you for once. Pipe down!"
It is only necessary to state further, that for nearly a year
afterwards there occurred no instance of drunkenness or neglect at the
watering parties.
There is one other point of importance in this discussion, and as it
seems to possess a considerable analogy in its bearing to the
suggestions already thrown out, it may possibly have greater weight in
conjunction with them than if it were brought forward alone. In every
system of penal jurisprudence it seems to be of the first importance
to let it be felt that the true degradation lies more in the crime
itself, than in the expiatory punishment by which it is followed.
Whenever this principle is not duly understood, punishments lose half
their value, while they are often virtually augmented in severity. The
object of all punishments is evidently to prevent the recurrence of
offences, either by others or by the offender himself. But it is not,
by any means, intended that he should not have a full and fair chance
allowed him for a return to virtue. The very instant punishment is
over, he should be allowed to start afresh for his character. If a man
is never to have his offence or his chastisement forgotten, he can
hardly be expected to set seriously about the re-establishment of his
damaged reputation.
Neither ought it to be forgotten, that a man so circumstanced has
really stronger claims on our sympathy, and is more entitled to our
protection, than if he had never fallen under censure. He has, in some
sort, if not entirely, expiated his offence by the severity of its
consequences; and every generous-minded officer must feel that a poor
seaman whom he has been compelled, by a sense of duty, to punish at
the gangway, instead of being kept down, has need of some extra
assistance to place him even on the footing he occupied before he
committed any offence. If this be not granted him, it is a mere
mockery to say that he has any fair chance for virtue.
It might, therefore, I think, be very usefully made imperative upon
the captain, at some short period after a punishment has taken place
(say on the next muster-day), and when the immediate irritation shall
have gone off, to call the offender publicly forward, and in the
presence of the whole ship's company give him to understand that, as
he had now received the punishment which, according to the rules of
the service, his offence merited, both the one and the other were,
from that time forward, to be entirely forgotten; and that he was now
fully at liberty to begin his course anew. I can assert, from ample
experience, that the beneficial effects of this practice are very
great.
FOOTNOTES:
[7] The recent instructions issued by the Board of Admiralty would
have gratified Captain Hall had he lived to read them; harmonizing as
they do with the system he so earnestly advocates.
CHAPTER XVI.
BOMBAY.
Early on the morning of the 11th of August, 1812, we first made the
coast of Asia; and, on steering towards the shore, discovered, close
under the land, a single sail, as white as snow, of a cut quite new to
our seamanship, and swelled out with the last faint airs of the
land-breeze, which, in the night, had carried us briskly along shore.
As we came nearer, we observed that the boat, with her head directed
to the northward, was piled half-mast high with fruits and vegetables,
cocoa-nuts, yams, plantains, intended evidently for the market of
Bombay. The water lay as smooth as that of a lake; so we sheered close
alongside, and hailed, to ask the distance we still were from our
port. None of the officers of the Volage could speak a word of
Hindustanee; and I well remember our feeling of humiliation when a
poor scullion, one of the cook's assistants, belonging to the
governor's suite, was dragged on deck, with all his grease and other
imperfections on his head, to act as interpreter. Sad work he made of
it; for, though the fellow had been in the East on some ten or twelve
former voyages, the languages of the countries he visited had not
formed so important a part of his studies as the quality of the arrack
and toddy which they produced. The word Bombaya, however, struck the
ear of the native boatmen, who pointed in the direction which they
themselves were steering, and called out "Mombay! Mombay!" This word,
I am told by an oriental scholar, is a corruption of Moomba-devy, or
the Goddess of Moomba, from an idol to which a temple is still
dedicated on the island. Others, less fanciful in their etymology, say
that the Portuguese gave it the name of Bom-Bahia, on account of the
excellence of its Port. That nation held possession of Bombay from the
year 1530 to 1661, when it was ceded by the crown of Portugal in full
sovereignty to Charles II.
It was not long before we came in sight of several headlands. When the
next day broke, and the sun rose upon us over the flat topped Gauts or
mountains of the Mahratta country, I remember feeling almost at a loss
whether I had been sleeping and dreaming during the night. But the
actual sight of the coast gave reality to pictures which, for many a
long year before, I had busied my fancy with painting, in colours
drawn partly from the Arabian Nights and Persian Tales, and partly, if
not chiefly, from those brilliant clusters of oriental images which
crowd and adorn the pages of Scripture.
Captain Cook asserts somewhere, speaking of the delights of voyaging
and travelling, that to such rovers as he and his companions nothing
came amiss; and I can safely venture to boast, that, as far as this
goes, I may claim a corner of my great brother officer's mantle. At
all events, in sailing over the Indian seas, or travelling in those
countries by land, I hardly ever met anything which did not so much
exceed in interest what I had looked for, that the grand perplexity
became, how to record what I felt, or in any adequate terms to
describe even the simplest facts which struck the eye at every turn in
that "wide realm of wild reality."
Of all places in the noble range of countries so happily called the
Eastern world, from the pitch of the Cape to the islands of Japan,
from Bengal to Batavia, there are few which can compare with Bombay.
If, indeed, I were consulted by any one who wished as expeditiously
and economically as possible to see all that was essentially
characteristic of the Oriental world, I would say, without hesitation,
"Take a run to Bombay; remain there a week or two; and having also
visited the scenes in the immediate neighbourhood, Eliphanta, Carli,
and Poonah, you will have examined good specimens of most things that
are curious or interesting in the East."
For this remarkable distinction, peculiar, as far as I know, to that
one spot on the earth's surface, this presidency is indebted to a
variety of interesting circumstances. Bombay is an island, and by no
means a large one, being only between six and seven miles long by one
or two broad. It is not, however, by geographical dimensions that the
wealth of towns, any more than the power and wealth of nations, is
determined. The harbour unites every possible desideratum of a great
sea port; it is easy of access and egress; affords excellent anchoring
ground; is capacious beyond the utmost probable demands of commerce;
and, owing to the great rise and fall of the tides, is admirably
adapted for docks of every description. The climate is healthy; and
the country, being diversified by numerous small ridges and hills,
furnishes an endless choice of situations for forts, towns, bazaars,
and villages, not to say bungalows or villas, and all sorts of
country-houses, and some very splendid retreats from the bustle of
business. The roads which intersect this charming island were
beautifully Macadamised, as I well remember, long before that grand
improvement was heard of in England; and as the soil of the island is
made up of that rich kind of mould resulting from decomposed basalt or
lava, the whole surface affords a good sample of the perennial verdure
of tropical scenery, which dazzles and surprises the new-comer, while
its interest seldom fails to rise still higher upon a more prolonged
and intimate acquaintance.
Such are among the eminent physical advantages enjoyed by Bombay; but
even these, had they been many times greater, would have been light in
the balance compared to those of a moral, or rather of a political
nature, which conspired in 1812 to render it one of the most important
spots in that quarter of the globe. At the time I speak of, it was
almost the only possession exclusively British within several hundred
miles in any direction. The enormous territory of the Mahrattas lay
close to Bombay on the east.
On the morning after my arrival at Bombay, I got up with the first
blush of the dawn, and hastily drawing on my clothes, proceeded along
greedily in search of adventures. I had not gone far, before I saw a
native sleeping on a mat spread in the little verandah extending
along the front of his house, which was made of basket-work plastered
over with mud. He was wrapped up in a long web of white linen, or
cotton cloth, called, I think, his cummer-bund, or waist-cloth. As
soon as the first rays of the sun peeped into his rude
sleeping-chamber, he "arose, took up his bed, and went into his
house." I saw immediately an explanation of this expression, which,
with slight variations, occurs frequently in the Bible, in connection
with several of the most striking and impressive of Christ's miracles,
particularly with that of the man sick of the palsy. My honest friend
the Hindoo got on his feet, cast the long folds of his wrapper over
his shoulder, stooped down, and having rolled up his mat, which was
all the bed he required, he walked into the house with it, and then
proceeded to the nearest tank to perform his morning ablutions.
I remember mentioning this, amongst many other illustrations of the
incidents recorded in Scripture, to a worthy old Scotch lady, upon
whom I expected it to produce the same pleasing and satisfactory
effect which it had wrought on me. I made, however, a great mistake;
for so far from raising myself in her estimation, on the score of
correct observation, I sunk, I fear, irrecoverably, in her good
graces, by presuming, as she alleged, to interfere with the wonder of
the miracle, the essence of which, according to her, I discovered to
consist, not in the recovery of "the man, who was made whole," but in
his being able to shoulder a four-post bed, and carry it off without
inconvenience!
CHAPTER XVII.
SIR SAMUEL HOOD.
As soon as the Volage was refitted, and her crew refreshed, after our
voyage from England of four months and a half, we sailed from Bombay
to the southward along the western coast of India; and having rounded
Ceylon, at Point de Galle, on the extreme south-western corner, where
we merely touched to land the governor's dispatches, before we hauled
up to the northward, and, after twelve days' passage, sailed into the
beautiful harbour of Trincomalee. There, to my great joy, we found the
commander-in-chief, Sir Samuel Hood; who, to my still greater joy,
informed me that a vacancy had been kept open for me in his flag ship,
the Illustrious. In a few minutes my traps were packed up, my
commission made out, and I had the honour of hailing myself a
professional follower of one of the first officers in his Majesty's
service. It is true, I was only fifth lieutenant, and not even fifth
on the Admiral's list for promotion; for I came after a number of old
officers who had served under Sir Samuel for many long years of
patient, or rather impatient, expectation: but my first and grand
purpose was attained, although my chance of advancement was very
small, and very remote.
In capstans, and other machines, there is a mechanical device, with
which every person is acquainted, termed a pall or catch, by which the
work gained in the effort last made shall be secured, and the machine
prevented from turning back again. Something of this kind takes place
in life, particularly in naval life; and happy is the officer who
hears the pall of his fortunes play "click! click!" as he spins
upwards in his profession. Proportionately deep is the despair of the
poor wretch who, after struggling and tugging with all his might at
the weary windlass of his hopes, can never bring it quite far enough
round to hear the joyous sound of the pall dropping into its berth! I
well remember most of these important moments of my own life; and I
could readily describe the different sensations to which their
successive occurrence gave rise, from the startling hour when my
father first told me that my own request was now to be granted, for on
the very next day I was to go to sea--up to that instant when the
still more important announcement met my ear, "Those whom God hath
joined together let no man put asunder!"
"It is easy to be cheerful when one is successful," says a high
authority; and there are "few people who are not good-natured when
they have nothing to cross them," says another equally profound
recorder of common-places; but the secret of good fortune seems to lie
far less in making the most of favourable incidents, or in submitting
manfully to disastrous ones, than in studying how to fill up to
advantage the long intervals between these great epochs in our lives.
So that there is, perhaps, no point of duty which affords more scope
for the talents of a superior than the useful and cheerful employment
of the heads and hands of his officers and people during those trying
periods of inaction which occur in every service. Sir Samuel Hood
possessed this faculty in a wonderful degree, as he not only kept us
all busy when there was nothing to be done, but contrived to make us
happy and contented, though some of our prospects were poor enough in
all conscience. My own, for example, since I was placed at the tip of
the tail of his long string of private followers; and when the
Admiralty List came out, on which I had built so many beautiful
castles in the air, my poor name was not upon it at all. I had not
expected to be first or second, or even third; fourth I had reckoned
upon as possible; fifth as probable; sixth as certain; so that my
horror and disappointment were excessive when this kindest of
commanders-in-chief broke to me the fatal news, in the following
characteristic manner.
A telegraphic signal had been made from the flagstaff at the
Admiral's house to the ship, in these words:--
"Send Mr. Hall on shore, with a crow-bar, two pick-axes, and two
spades."
All the way to the landing-place I puzzled myself with thinking what
on earth could be the object of these tools; little dreaming, good
easy lieutenant! that I was so soon to dig the grave of my own hopes.
The Admiral received me at the door with his coat off; and holding out
his remaining hand (his right arm was shot away in action), he
squeezed mine with even more than his wonted kindness.
"I have been waiting for you with some impatience;" he said, "to be
present at the hunt after a white ant's nest, a sort of thing I know
you like. These rogues, the _Termites bellicosi_, as I find the
naturalists call them, have made their way into the house! and having
carried their galleries up the walls and along the roof, have come
down in great force upon a trunk of clothes, which they would have
destroyed entirely before night, had I not caught sight of them. Now
let us to work; for I propose to rip up the floor of the verandah, in
order to follow their passages and galleries till I reach their nest,
if it be a mile off; won't this he a glorious piece of service?"
exclaimed the Admiral, as he warmed himself by anticipating the chase.
He could hardly have been more delighted, I am persuaded, had he been
giving orders for a fleet under his command to bear down upon the
enemy's line. I could not venture to do more than bow, and say I was
much obliged to him for having so considerately thought of me at such
a moment.
"Oh!" cried he, apparently recollecting himself, "but I have something
else to show you; or rather to tell you, for I must not show it;
though I fear it will not please you quite so much as the prospect of
a white ant-hunt. Here, Gigna," called the Admiral to his steward, who
stood by with a tea-kettle of hot water, ready to pour over the ants,
"put away that affair, which we shall not require this half-hour yet;
and hold this crow-bar while I step into the office with Mr. Hall."
"It is of no use to mince the matter," said the veteran, shutting the
door, and turning to me with somewhat of the air which he might be
supposed to have put on, had he been instructed from home to tell me
that one or both my parents were dead; "it is no use to conceal the
fact from you; but here is the Admiralty List, just come to my hands,
and your name, in spite of all you tell me of promises, verbal and
written, is NOT ON IT!"
Had the Admiral fired one of the flag-ship's thirty-two pounders,
double-shotted, down my throat, he could not have demolished more
completely my bodily framework than this fatal announcement shattered
to pieces the gilded crockeryware of my fondest hopes. All the gay
visions of command, and power, and independence, in which I had
indulged my fancy during the voyage, vanished like the shadows of a
dream I fain would recall, but could not. I was at first quite
stupified, and can remember nothing that passed for some minutes. As I
recovered my scattered senses, however, I recollect gazing at the
anchorage from the open window of the Admiralty House, near which we
stood. The flag-ship then lay just off Osnaburg Point, with her
ensign, or, as it used to be called in old books, her Ancient, the
"meteor flag of England," dropped, in the calm, so perpendicularly
from the gaff-end, that it looked like a rope more than a flag; while
its reflection, as well as that of the ship herself, with every mast,
yard, and line of the rigging, seemed, as it were, engraved on the
surface of the tranquil pool, as distinctly as if another vessel had
actually been inverted and placed beneath. I have seldom witnessed so
complete a calm. The sea-breeze, with which the shore had been
refreshed for twenty minutes, had not as yet found its way into the
recesses of the inner harbour, which, take it all in all, is one of
the snuggest and most beautiful coves in the world. And such is the
commodious nature of this admirable port, that even the Illustrious,
though a large 74-gun ship, rode at anchor in perfect security, within
a very few yards of the beach, which at that spot is quite steep to,
and is wooded down to, the very edge of the water. I gazed for some
moments, almost unconsciously, at this quiet scene, so different from
that which was boiling and bubbling in my own distracted breast, and
swelling up with indignation against some of my friends at home, who I
had such good reason to believe had either betrayed or neglected me,
maugre all sorts of promises.
In the midst of my reverie, which the kind-hearted Admiral did not
interrupt, I observed the wind just touch the drooping flag; but the
air was so light and transient, that it merely produced on it a gentle
motion from side to side, like that of a pendulum, imitated in the
mirror beneath, which lay as yet totally unbroken by the sea-breeze.
Presently the whole mighty flag, after a faint struggle or two,
gradually unfolded itself, and, buoyed up by the new born gale, spread
far beyond the gallant line-of-battle ship's stern, and waved
gracefully over the harbour. It is well known to nice observers of the
human mind, that the strangest fancies often come into the thoughts at
a moment when we might least expect them; and though, assuredly, I was
not then in a very poetical or imaginative humour, I contrived to
shape out of the inspiring scene I was looking upon a figure to soothe
my disappointed spirit. As I saw the ensign uncurl itself to the wind
I said internally, "If I have but life, and health, and opportunity, I
trust, notwithstanding the bitterness of this disappointment, I shall
yet contrive to unfold, in like manner, the flag of my own fortunes
to the world."
Just as this magnanimous thought crossed my mind's eye, the Admiral
placed his hand so gently on my shoulder that the pressure would not
have hurt a fly, and said, in a cheerful tone, "Never mind this
mishap, master Hall; everything will come right in time; and if you
only resolve to take it in the proper and manly temper, it may even
prove all the better that this has happened. Nothing is without a
remedy in this world; and I'll do what I can to make good this maxim
in your case. In the mean time, however, come along, and help me to
rout out these rascally white ants. Off coat, however, if you please;
for we shall have a tough job of it."
It cost us an hour's hard work; for we had to rip up the planks along
the whole of the verandah, then to shape a course across two cellars,
or _godongs_, as they are called in the East, and finally the
traverses of these singular insects obliged us to cut a trench to the
huge hillock or nest, which rose to the height of five or six feet
from the ground, in numberless shoots, like pinnacles round the roof
of a Gothic church. We might have attacked them at headquarters in
the first instance, had we wished it; but the Admiral chose to go more
technically to work, and to sap up to his enemy by regular approaches.
In this way we had the means of seeing the principles upon which these
ants proceed in securing themselves, at every step of their progress,
by galleries or covered ways, which, though extremely feeble, are
sufficiently strong to keep off the attacks of every other kind of
ant. It is curious enough, that, although the white ant be the most
destructive of its species, it is said to be, individually, by far
the weakest, and cannot move a step without the artificial protection
of the galleries it constructs as it goes along; just as the besiegers
of a fortification secure themselves in their trenches and zigzags.
We now brought our spades into play; and having cut the hill across,
laid open the secrets of these most curious of all the ant tribe. At
last we reached the great queen ant, the mother of millions of her
race, a most enormous personage to be sure, nearly four inches long,
and as thick as a man's finger, with a head not larger than that of a
bee, but a body such as I have described, filled with eggs, which
continually rolled out like a fluid from a reservoir. Never shall I
forget the shout of rapture which the gallant Admiral sent over half
the harbour, as he succeeded in gaining the object of his labour.
There are some men who go about everything they undertake with all
their hearts and souls, and this great officer was one of those. He
did nothing by halves and quarters, like so many other people. The
greatest deeds of arms, or the most trivial objects of passing
amusement, engrossed his whole concentrated attention for the time. He
was equally in earnest when holding out examples of private
generosity, or lending the heartiest and kindest encouragement even to
the least distinguished of his followers, as when performing acts of
the highest public spirit, or making the greatest sacrifices to what
he considered his duty. Everything, in short, that he did, or thought,
or uttered, bore the stamp of the same peculiar impress of genuine
zeal. So eminently exciting, and even fascinating, was this truly
officer-like conduct, that even those who had served under him the
longest often wondered at the extent of their own exertions when
roused by his example, and were led almost to believe that his very
look had something stimulating in it which actually gave fresh vigour
to their arms as well as to their thoughts. With all this, he was the
gentlest of the gentle, and accomplished whatever he undertook without
apparent effort, or the least consciousness that what he was doing was
remarkable.
I remember an instance of his skill in the small way. One morning,
near the spot where he had headed the storming party against the white
ants, a working party of the crew of the Illustrious had commenced
constructing a wharf before the dockyard. The stones of which this
platform or landing-place was to be built were, by Sir Samuel Hood's
orders, selected of very large dimensions, so much so, that the
sailors came at last to deal with a mass of rock so heavy, that their
combined strength proved unequal to moving it beyond a few inches
towards its final position at the top of one corner. The Admiral sat
on his horse looking at the workmen for some time, occasionally
laughing, and occasionally calling out directions, which the baffled
engineers could by no means apply. At length, his Excellency the
Commander-in-chief became fidgety, and having dismounted, he tried to
direct them in detail; but never a bit would the stone budge. Finally,
losing all patience, he leaped from the top of the bank, and roared
out, in a voice of reproach and provocation, "Give me the crow-bar!"
Thus armed, he pushed the officers and men to the right and left,
while he insisted upon having the whole job to himself, literally,
single-handed. He first drove the claws of the instrument well under
the edge of the stone, then placed with his toe a small iron pin on
the ground under the bar, and across its length, to act as a fulcrum,
or shoulder. When all things were carefully adjusted to his mind, he
slipped his hand to the upper end of the lever, and weighing it down,
gave what he called "life" to the huge stone, which, just before,
half-a-dozen strong men had not been able to disturb. Sure enough,
however, it now moved, though only about half-an-inch, towards its
intended resting-place. At each prize or hitch of the bar, the rock
appeared to advance farther, till, after five or six similar shifts,
it was finally lodged in the station prepared for it, where, I doubt
not, it rests to this day, and may occupy for centuries to come.
CHAPTER XVIII.
EXCURSION TO CANDELAY LAKE IN CEYLON.
The fervid activity of our excellent admiral, Sir Samuel Hood, in
whose flag-ship I served as lieutenant, from 1812 to 1815, was
unceasing. There was a boyish hilarity about this great officer, which
made it equally delightful to serve officially under him, and to enjoy
his friendly companionship. An alligator-hunt, a sport in which the
Malays take great delight, was shared in by the Admiral, who made the
place ring with his exclamation of boyish delight. Scarcely had we
returned from the alligator-hunt, near Trincomalee, when Sir Samuel
applied himself to the collector of the district, who was chief
civilian of the place, and begged to know what he would recommend us
to see next.
"Do you care about antiquities?" said the collector.
"Of course," replied the Admiral, "provided they be genuine and worth
seeing. What have you got to show us in that way? I thought this part
of the country had been a wild jungle from all time, and that the
English were only now bringing it into cultivation."
"On the contrary," observed our intelligent friend, "there are
manifest traces, not very far off, of a dense and wealthy population.
At all events, the inhabitants appear to have understood some of the
arts of life, for they formed a huge tank or pond for the purpose of
irrigation; so large, indeed, that there still exists, in one corner
of it, a sheet of water extensive enough to deserve the name of a
lake."
"Let us go and see it," exclaimed the admiral. "Can we ride? Order the
horses; who minds the heat of the sun?"--for, like almost all
new-comers, Sir Samuel cared nothing for exposure, and laughed at the
precautions of more experienced residents.
The collector of Trincomalee soon satisfied the Admiral that an
expedition to Candelay Lake, as the ancient tank of the natives was
called, could not be undertaken quite so speedily. Boats and horses
indeed were all ready, and tents could easily be procured; but it was
likewise necessary to prepare provisions, to pack up clothes, and to
send forward a set of native pioneers to clear the way through
brushwood, otherwise impenetrable. The Admiral was in such ecstacies
at the prospect of an adventure which was to cost some trouble, that
he allowed nobody rest till everything had been put in train. Early in
the morning of the next day but one, we accordingly set out in several
of the flag-ship's boats, accompanied by a mosquito fleet of native
canoes to pilot and assist us; Lady Hood, whom no difficulties could
daunt, accompanied Sir Samuel; the captain of his ship, and his
flag-lieutenant, with the collector as pilot, and one or two others,
made up the party; and our excursion, though nearly destitute of
adventures vulgarly so called, proved one of the most interesting
possible.
The early part of our course lay over the smooth and beautiful
harbour of Trincomalee, after which we passed through a series of
coves, forming what is called the Lake of Tamblegam, a connecting bay
or arm of the sea, though far out of sight of the main ocean. We soon
lost ourselves amid innumerable little islands clad thickly in the
richest mantles of tropical foliage down to the water's edge, and at
many places even into the water; so that, as not a stone or the least
bit of ground could be seen, these fairy islets appeared actually to
float on the surface. We had to row our boats through a dense aquatic
forest of mangroves for nearly a mile, along a narrow lane cut through
the wood expressly for us the day before by the natives. These
fantastical trees, which grow actually in the water, often recall to
the imagination those villages one sees in countries liable to
frequent inundation, where each house is perched on the top of piles.
We saw with astonishment clusters of oysters and other shell-fish
clinging to the trunk and branches, as well as to the roots of these
trees, which proves that the early voyagers were not such inventors of
facts as folks suppose them, nor far wrong in reporting that they had
seen fish growing like fruit on trees!
Shortly before entering this watery wilderness, we encountered a party
of native pearl-divers; and the Admiral, who was at all times most
provokingly sceptical as to reported wonderful exploits, pulled out
his watch, and insisted on timing the best diver amongst them, to see
how long he could remain under water. In no case did the poor fellow
make out a minute complete; upon which, the Admiral held up his watch
exultingly in his triumph, and laughing to scorn the assurances that
at other parts of the island divers might be found who could remain
five minutes at the bottom. "Show me them! show me them!" cried he,
"and then, but not till then--begging you pardon--I shall believe it."
The challenge remained unanswered.
The method used by these divers is to place between their feet a
basket loaded with one or two large lumps of coral, the weight of
which carries them rapidly to the bottom. The oysters being then
substituted for the stones, the diver disengages his feet, and shoots
up to the surface again, either bringing the full basket with him, or
leaving it to be drawn up by a line.
Nothing could be imagined more wild than the mangrove avenue through
which we rowed, or rather paddled, for the strait was so narrow that
there was no room for the oars when pushed out to their full length.
The sailors, therefore, were often obliged to catch hold of the
branches and roots of the trees, to draw the boats along. The foliage,
as may be supposed, where perennial heat and moisture occur in
abundance, spread overhead in such extraordinary luxuriance that few
of the sun's rays could penetrate the massy net-work of leaves and
branches forming the roof of our fairy passage. Not a single bird
could be seen, either seated or on the wing; nor was even a chirp
distinguishable above the dreamy hum of millions of mosquitoes
floating about, in a calm so profound, that it seemed as if the
surface of the water had never been disturbed since the Creation. The
air, though cool, felt so heavy and choky, that, by the time we had
scrambled to the end of this strange tunnel or watery lane, we could
scarcely breathe, and were rejoiced to enter the open air
again,--although, when we came out, the sun "flamed in the forehead of
the morning sky," and beat fiercely and hotly upon the parched ground,
from which every blade of grass had been scorched away.
The village of Tamblegam, to which we soon came, is inhabited by a
colony of Hindoo emigrants from the coast of Malabar. It is a neat
little place, of which the huts, formed chiefly of branches of the
tamarind-tree and leaves of the plantain, standing under prodigiously
high cocoa-nuts, are so very diminutive, that the whole looks more
like a child's toy-box village than the residence of grown people. The
principal edifice is a pagoda built of stone, exactly ten feet square.
Not fancying there could be any harm in taking such a liberty, we
entered the pagoda unceremoniously, and one of our artists set to work
sketching the bronze image which the natives worship as a deity, a
figure not quite three inches in height; but the Hindoos were shocked
at our impiety, and soon ousted the Admiral and his party. Close by
was a little tank or pool of water, beautifully spangled over with the
leaves and flowers of the water-lily. Here several groups of Indian
girls had assembled to enjoy the coolness of the water in a style
which we envied not a little. Instead of plunging in and swimming
about as with us, one person sits down, while others pour pitchers of
water over the head. We took notice also of one particularly
interesting party of young damsels, who waded in till the water
reached nearly to their breasts. Each of these girls held in her hand
a chatty, or water-pot, shaped somewhat like an Etruscan vase, the
top of which barely showed itself above the level of the pool. Upon a
signal being given by one of the party, all the girls ducked out of
sight, and at the same time raised their water-jars high in the air.
In the next instant, just as their heads began to re-appear above the
surface, the vessels were simultaneously inclined so that the water
might pour out gradually, and in such measure that by the time the
bathers again stood erect, the inverted jars might be quite empty.
Nothing could be more graceful than the whole proceedings; and we sat
in the shade of the pagoda looking at these water-nymphs for
half-an-hour in great admiration.
In the mean time a slender pole, forty feet in height, had been
erected by a set of native tumblers, who presently exhibited before us
various feats of extraordinary agility and strength--some of these are
almost too curious to be believed by those who are not aware of the
flexibility and dexterity of the Hindoos. We were most surprised and
amused by the exploits of a lady of forty, which is considered a very
old age in that climate, who ran up the pole more like a monkey than a
human being, and then sticking herself on the top horizontally like a
weathercock, whirled herself round, to the great astonishment of the
European beholders. What tickled us particularly on this occasion was
the good lady accompanying her strange movements with a noise so
exactly like that of our old and respected friend Punch, when drubbed
by his faithful wife Judy, that we all burst out a-laughing.
The sun had now fallen past that particular angle in the sky above
which it is considered by the bearers inexpedient to travel, we
nestled ourselves into our respective palankeens, and proceeded on
the journey through what seemed to us a very respectable forest,
growing on lands which had once been under the plough, but apparently
very long ago. To our inexperienced eyes and European associations, it
seemed as if a century at least must have elapsed from the time such a
matting of wood first supplanted the labours of the husbandman; but
our friend the collector soon explained to us, that, if any spot of
ground in that rich district were neglected for a very few years,
natural trees, as tall as those we now admired so much, would soon
shoot up spontaneously, and occupy all the soil. We shook our heads at
this with the confident scepticism of ignorance, and exchanged glances
amongst ourselves at the expense of our official companion; but in the
course of an hour we were compelled, by the evidence of our own
senses, to alter our note of disbelief. On coming to the real
untouched virgin forest of the climate, we beheld a most noble
spectacle indeed, in the way of scenery, such as I at least had never
seen before, and have but rarely met with since. I do not recollect
the names of the principal trees, though they were mentioned to us
over and over again. The grand Banyan, however, with which European
eyes have become so correctly familiar through the pencil of Daniell,
rose on every side, and made us feel, even more decidedly than the
cocoa-nut trees had done in the morning, that we were indeed in
another world.
Shortly after we had left the Indian village, the night fell, and,
while we were threading the gigantic forest by the light of torches,
the only thing at all like an adventure promised to occur to us; but
it ended in nothing. The party consisted of six palankeens, each
attended by eight bearers, though only four at a time, or at most six,
supported the poles; these trotted along by the side of the bearers,
between two and three dozen coolies or porters carrying provisions and
torches.
With a mixture of vague alarm and curiosity we now listened to the
accounts of wild elephants in these woods, though in the morning we
had heard the same stories with indifference and incredulity; while
the old hands of the party, who had felt rather piqued at our distrust
of their marvellous narrations, pointed out with malicious
satisfaction the recent foot-marks of these undisputed and formidable
lords of the soil.
Sir Samuel and Lady Hood, with some of his staff, had left their
palankeens and walked forward on the path, which barely admitted two
people abreast, in order to enjoy the exceeding beauty of the Indian
jungle, lighted up with the blaze of our torches. Suddenly the
headmost musalgee or torch-bearer paused, listened, and then
retreated precipitately, upon the hinder ranks. Nothing was said by
them, and nothing could we hear in the woods to explain the cause of
this panic, which, however, soon became general amongst the natives.
The bearers set down the palankeens, and in an instant they, as well
as all the coolies, took to their heels, while the torches flitted
about in the forest in a style which, had there been no apprehension,
might have been acknowledged as very picturesque. Sir Samuel not
only stood fast himself, but ordered all of us to do so
likewise--remarking, that, until we knew what to fly from, we might
only be making matters worse by moving. Presently the loud crashing of
the underwood of the forest, and a heavy thumping on the ground, gave
abundant evidence that a wild elephant was close to us.
Some of the natives told us afterwards that they had seen the monster;
but, although we peered into the forest with all our eyes, none of us
could honestly take upon us to say we actually saw him--though
assuredly we heard his footsteps as he broke his way through the
jungle. Robinson Crusoe and his wolves in Tartary came to our
recollection; and upon our asking the natives what effect fires really
had on wild beasts, they all assured us that hardly any animal,
however ferocious, would come up to a light, and that we were safe so
long as we kept near a torch. This might be consolatory reasoning for
the musalgees, each of whom carried a light, but it afforded little
security to us, who, it was evident, would again be left in the dark
should an elephant cross our path a second time. The Admiral,
therefore, and by his desire all of us, made an attempt to carry the
torches ourselves. But we were soon so plaguily smoked and scorched
for our pains, that we rested contented with the risk, and the bearers
having gradually crept back to the palankeens, we once more moved on.
In spite of all that had passed, some of the party remained so
doggedly sceptical, from being habitually distrustful of all things
wonderful, that they declared the whole affair a mere matter of panic,
and dared to swear there could not be found an elephant within fifty
miles of us. Scarcely had this opinion, so injurious to the honours
and glories of our late adventure, been uttered, when the
commander-in-chief, who, as usual, was leading the way, snatched a
light from one of the men's hands, and waved it over what the
geologists call a "recent deposit," half the size of a wheelbarrow,
and out-rivalling in its column of smoke the muggiest torch in the
line.
"There!" exclaimed the Admiral, better pleased than if he had found a
pile of rupees, instead of so much recent Album Graecum. "Will that
evidence satisfy you? How many hundred yards off do you think can the
fellow be who left this trace of his proximity?"
It was past ten o'clock when we reached our tents, which had been
pitched in the morning on the borders of the celebrated lake we came
to visit. All the party were well fagged, and so ravenously hungry,
that we shouted for joy on seeing supper enter just as we came to the
ground.
"This," said our excellent caterer the collector, "is the dish upon
which we pride ourselves most at Trincomalee. It is the true Malay
curry--rich, as you perceive, in flavour, and more than half of it
gravy--which gravy, I beg you particularly to take notice, is full of
minced vege |
