LIFE ABOARD _OLD IRONSIDES_
"_And now to thee, O Captain,_
_Most earnestly I pray,_
_That they may never bury me_
_In church or cloister gray;_
_But on the windy sea-beach,_
_At the ending of the land,_
_All on the surfy sea-beach,_
_Deep down into the sand._
_For there will come the sailors,_
_Their voices I shall hear,_
_And at casting of the anchor_
_The yo-ho loud and clear;_
_And at hauling of the anchor_
_The yo-ho and the cheer,--_
_Farewell, my love, for to the bay_
_I never more may steer._"
--W. ALLINGHAM.
"I hear it reported," Samuel Childs remarked one night on watch, "that
Captain Edward Preble is coming out in command of the _Constitution_.
Looks like he'll have charge of the Mediterranean fleet. A hard man. A
hot temper. He's as rough as the New Hampshire rocks where he was born.
I doubt whether I'd want to serve under him!"
"The harder they come, the better I like them," said Reuben James. "A
hard man means a hard fighter. I understand Stephen Decatur's coming
out too. There's an officer for you! Hope I have a chance to serve
under both!"
Samuel Child's idea of Captain Preble's disposition was held aboard all
of our ships. Yet Preble changed this adverse comment to enthusiastic
admiration. It happened in this way:
As his frigate was passing at night through the Straits of Gibraltar
he met a strange ship and hailed her. The vessel made no reply, but
manoeuvred to get into an advantageous position for firing.
"I hail you for the last time!" Preble shouted. "If you don't answer,
I'll fire a shot into you."
"If you do, I'll return a broadside!" came from the strange ship.
"I should like to catch you at that! I now hail for an answer. What
ship is that?" Captain Preble cried.
"His Britannic Majesty's eighty-four gun ship-of-the-line _Donegal_!
Sir Richard Strachan. Send a boat on board!"
Preble shouted back:
"This is the United States' forty-four gun ship _Constitution_, Captain
Edward Preble, and I'll be d--d if I send a boat on board any ship!
Blow your matches, boys!"
No broadside was fired. Captain Preble now shouted to the officer
that he doubted the truth of his statement and would stay alongside
until the morning revealed the identity of the stranger. A boat now
approached, bearing a message from the strange ship's commander. He
explained that she was the thirty-two gun British frigate _Maidstone_,
and that, taken by surprise, he had resorted to strategy in order to
get his men to their stations before the _Constitution_ fired.
Samuel Childs had his chance to serve under this terrible Captain
Preble, and so, for that matter, had all of us. My first meeting with
the captain was far from being one that promised comfort. To explain
why, I had better note here that the clothing supplies of the _George
Washington_ had been depleted, consequently there were several pieces
of my dress that were not in accord with the regulation uniform.
Captain Preble's gaze chanced to rest on me. Then, with an outburst
that nearly frightened me out of my wits, he asked me how I dare
present myself before him in such attire.
"If I catch you out of uniform again," he said, "out of the service
you'll go!"
I darted out of his sight, resolving to alter my dress at once,
but a lieutenant hailed me and gave me a message to deliver to the
_Constellation_. He then ordered the coxswain to man the running boat.
Off we rowed. The _Constellation_ lay with her bow towards us. Instead
of waiting for the Jacob's ladder to be thrown to me, I stood in the
bow of the running boat waiting for it to be lifted to the crest
of a sea. The next roller lifted our cockle shell high in the air,
approaching the level of the ship's deck. I took advantage of this
rise and vaulted from our boat. We were in a rough sea, and, instead
of landing on the bulwark, as I had aimed to do, I was hurled by the
next roller head-first across the vessel's side. With the velocity of a
butting goat, my head rammed a group of three officers who had chosen
that particular spot for a chat. Two of them were tossed left and
right; the third one was floored. I arose with abject apologies. Who
should I see squirming and cursing before me but Captain Preble? I felt
my blood turn to ice.
To my terrified imagination a flogging seemed to be the least
punishment I could expect. Not only had I knocked him down, but here
was I appearing before him in the clothes he had ordered changed. The
other officers, crimson and purple with wrath, helped the Captain to
his feet. It appeared that while I had been waiting for the letter, he
had gone forth in his gig to inspect the very ship I was bound for.
"Ha!" he exclaimed when he had recovered his breath, "the same lad! The
same uniform!"
Then suddenly he looked at his frowning companions and burst into
laughter. "Why," he exclaimed, "just when we were talking about our
enemy's guns, he came over the side like a cannon ball! I thought the
gunners of Tripoli were bombarding us!"
When the laughter ended I had a chance to deliver the letter and to
explain that the lieutenant had pressed me into service before I had an
opportunity to change my garb.
He nodded. "The irregularity of your clothes we will overlook just
now," he said, "but your irregular way of coming aboard, and the
headlong way in which you approach your superiors, and intrude upon
their conferences, is a matter that warrants your being turned over
to the master-at-arms. However, you scamp, we'll forgive all of your
offences for the laugh you have given us! I hope if I ever call on you
to board an enemy's ship you'll go over her side with the same speed!"
The crew was divided into three sets. The men in the first set were
called topmen; their duty was to climb the masts and to take in
or furl, reef or let out the sails. This group of topmen were in
turn subdivided, according to the masts of the ship. Thus we had
fore-topmen, main-topmen and mizzen-topmen.
The second set of men attended to the sails from the deck. It was their
task to handle the lowest sails, and to set and take in the jibs, lower
studding sails and spanker; they also coiled the ropes of the running
gear. These men too were grouped according to masts.
The third set of men were called scavengers. These did the dirty work
of the ship, gathering the refuse from all quarters of the vessel and
casting it overboard.
I, on account of my youth, was assigned to none of these sets, but to
the boys' division. There were a dozen of us lads on board, and a merry
set of scamps we were. We were assigned to serve the officers, and
because of this we managed to overhear and pass to each other a good
deal of information concerning the operations of the ship that was not
intended for us to know. Some of us became favorites with the officers
we served, and when we got into mischief and were threatened with
punishment, our officers often shielded us.
In addition to the sailors and boys, the ship had over a score of
marines on her muster roll. They were the policemen of the ship. In
battle their place was in the rigging, where they picked off the enemy
crew with their muskets. The marines filled a peculiar position, in
that they were called upon to uphold the authority of the officers, and
therefore could not be on intimate terms with the sailors--in fact, the
officers discouraged familiarity between the soldiers and sailors.
As for food, we were the envy of our British cousins. Our menu was:
Sunday, a pound and a half of beef and half a pint of rice; Monday, a
pound of pork, half a pint of peas and four ounces of cheese; Tuesday,
a pound and a half of beef, and a pound of potatoes; Wednesday, half
a pint of rice, two ounces of butter, and six ounces of molasses;
Thursday, a pound of pork and half a pint of peas; Friday, a pound of
potatoes, a pound of salt fish, and two ounces of butter or one gill of
oil; Saturday, a pound of pork, half a pint of peas, and four ounces of
cheese. In addition, one pound of bread and half a pint of spirits, or
one quart of beer, were served every day.
Sundays were usually holidays. After muster on the spar deck, we would
have church service, and then the rest of the day was ours to spend as
we pleased. We wore our best uniforms, but we could never tell from one
Sunday to another just what kind of dress we were to appear in. The
captain had a way of ordering us to wear one day blue jackets and white
trousers, and on the next Sunday to change to blue jackets and blue
trousers. When he wanted us to look particularly smart he would command
that we wear in addition our scarlet vests. When, on top of all this,
we donned our shiny black hats, we felt fine indeed.
In fair weather we slept in hammocks, swung on the berth deck. We were
trained to roll up and stow our hammocks swiftly, so that when a call
to action sounded, our beds disappeared from sight in the bulwark
nettings as if by magic. These hammocks, in battle, were placed against
the bulwarks as shields to prevent splinters from hitting us when the
vessel was hit.
Our ship kept a merit roll, upon which were entered the names of every
member of the crew. If a man did his work well, he was given a good
standing on this roll; the sheet, on the other hand, also showed who
were the lazy and inefficient members of the crew. The system of
handling men was modeled after that of the older navies, where each man
of the ship's company was assigned a certain duty.
When a sailor died, we sewed up our mate's body in his hammock and
placed it on a grating in a bow port. Then an officer read the burial
service. At the words, "We commit the body of our brother to the deep,"
we raised the grating and allowed the body to drop into the sea. There
would be a heavy splash--then a deep silence rested on both the water
and the ship for several minutes.
Our greatest enjoyment came from our band, which we had formed out of
members of the crew who had more or less talent for music. I wondered
afterwards how our efforts would have sounded in competition with a
professional band of musicians that in later years played aboard one of
our sister ships. These musicians had found their way into the American
navy in a strange manner. They had enlisted on board a French warship
under the condition that they would not be called on to fight, but
were to be stowed away in the cable tier until "the clouds blew over."
It was also stipulated that they were not to be flogged--a custom of
which many captains were far too fond. The French ship upon which they
played was captured by a Portuguese cruiser. They were permitted by
the Portuguese to enlist in a British vessel, and when the latter was
captured by an American frigate, the band was enrolled in our navy.
EVERY-DAY HAZARDS
In sailing from a cold to a warm climate, we were unknowingly weakening
our rigging, which had been fitted in cold weather. The masts were
subject to expansion and contraction by heat and cold, and so was
our cordage. When we entered the Mediterranean our shrouds and stays
slackened under the hot sun. The ship was in this condition when we
were caught in a heavy gale. The ocean had grown rough. We were at
dinner when a tremendous wave broke over our bow. It poured down the
open hatchway, swept from the galley all the food that was on the
table, washed our table clean of eatables, and poured through all of
the apartments on the berth deck in a terrifying flood. The huge waves
beating upon our ship from the outside, the tossing of the vessel, and
the sloshing water we had shipped racked the vessel so that it seemed
that it must founder. We were a white-faced group, for Davy Jones'
locker seemed to be yawning for us below, but we kept our upper lips
stiff and sprang nimbly to obey orders. The officers commanded the
crew to man the chain pumps and cut holes in the berth deck to permit
the water to pour into the hold, and in this way we emerged from our
dangerous situation.
Another peril, however, beset us on deck. One of our lieutenants,
watching the rigging, discovered that it had become so slack that the
masts and bowsprit were in danger of being carried away. He summoned
all available hands to help tighten the ropes. We managed at last to
secure purchases on every other shroud, and to sway them all together,
which restored the firmness.
One night we had shown to us what a terrifying experience it is to have
a fire break out aboard ship. As we were climbing into our hammocks a
shower of sparks flew up from a corner of the cockpit.
The captain ordered the drum to beat to quarters, and soon the crew
was assembled under good control. Fire buckets filled with water were
standing on the quarterdeck. We ran for them and poured them over the
flames. All hands emptied buckets on the flames until the fire had been
quenched.
If the fire had occurred a few hours later, when we were asleep, it
might have gathered enough headway to sweep the ship. We learned later
that a lighted candle had fallen from a beam on the deck below and had
set fire to some cloths. The steward had tried to smother the fire
with sheets, but all the cloths had then caught fire. We did not fully
realize our danger until it was pointed out to us that the room in
which the fire had started was next to the powder magazine, and that
the bulkhead between the two compartments had been scorched.
When decks were cleared for action, you may well believe that my heart
was in my mouth. The ship's company was running here and there as
busy as ants--and apparently as confused. The boatswain and his mates
saw to the rigging and sails. The carpenter and his crew prepared
shot-plugs and mauls and strove to protect the pumps against injury;
the lieutenants went from deck to deck, supervising the work. The
boys who were the powder monkeys rushed up and down at their tasks of
providing the first rounds for the guns; pistols and cutlasses were
distributed. Rammers, sponges, powderhorns, matches and train tackles
were placed beside every cannon. The hatches were closed, so that no
man might desert his post and hide below. The gun lashings were cast
adrift. The marines were drawn up in rank and file. These occupations,
fortunately, left us little time to think of home and loved ones, and
by the time the decks were cleared, why, the cannon were thundering and
the missiles were striking about us.
Bathing and boat racing were popular sports with us; yet, in the case
of the first pastime, we had to be very careful on account of blue
sharks.
It was a matter for wonderment with us that, while the blue shark has
been known time and again to attack white men, he seldom bothered
a colored person. We had sailors aboard who had sailed in Oriental
waters, where there are thousands of sharks. These men agreed in their
story that the natives could swim and dive without fear of them, but
if a white man ventured to bathe in the same place the sharks would be
after him in a short time. We learned from these yarn-spinners that the
pearl-divers of Ceylon stay down under water for several minutes at a
time while they gather into bags the shells that contain pearls, and
yet are seldom attacked by sharks. This may have been, though, because
while they were under water their comrades above shouted and sang to
scare the sharks away. Sometimes natives whose skins were of a light
color would dye their bodies black, while other divers would carry in
their girdles spikes made of ironwood, which they used to poke out the
eyes of sharks that came near.
These stories about sharks were enough to make us enter the water
warily, and to borrow the custom of the pearl divers in making a loud
noise when we bathed. An experience was awaiting us, however, that
brought our danger home to us more than all the warnings that could be
uttered.
Jim Hodges, perhaps the most expert swimmer among us, was fond of
boasting that he could outswim a shark. One day, when there was a
calm sea, he started to swim from the side of our vessel to another
frigate that was anchored close by. We who were on duty watched, over
the ship's side, his progress. Suddenly a gray fin showed above the
turquoise water, about one hundred yards from him, but moving rapidly
in his direction. We shouted and pointed in the direction of his
danger. He heard us, realized his peril, and turned instantly towards
our ship. The shark at once changed its direction so that the swimmer
and the fish seemed to be following two sides of a triangle that would
meet at the apex--this point being the bow of our vessel. We watched
in breathless suspense while Hodges moved towards us, swimming with
amazing coolness and nerve. The shark gained steadily. We had lowered
a rope at the point nearest to the swimmer, and we could see him
measuring the distance with an anxious look. Those of us who managed to
obtain firearms began to shoot at the shark, but at last it had drawn
so near to the swimmer that there was danger of hitting him with our
bullets. We ceased firing and waited. At last Hodges, with a desperate
spurt, reached the rope. As soon as we felt his tug at it we began
hauling him in. If he had seized the rope a second later, it would have
been too late. The teeth of the shark flashed in the swirl at the end
of the rope. If Hodges had not lifted his feet into the air, one of
them would have been snapped off.