The tale-telling captain.—The heroic and kind-hearted officer.—The
standard-bearer.—Flags.—The royal standard.—Flag of the lord high-
admiral.—Flag of the admiral of the fleet.—Colours in the army.—Day
signals.—Night signals.—Fog-signals.—Cipher flags and substitutes.—
Telegraphs.—Alphabet for field signals.—Description of a sailor on
shore.
“We want, uncle, to hear you go on in your account of soldiers and
sailors. Now for a good long account.”
“Well, boys, I will do my best, and describe them as they are. British
soldiers often _run_, but very seldom _run away_; and sailors are more
apt to _strike at_ than to _strike to_ their enemies. I remember hearing
of a captain, whose stories were always too long. I am glad that you do
not think so of mine.”
“Who was he? please to tell us who he was?”
“Listen, then, and you shall know all that I know of him. During the
American war, a Captain S—— used much to annoy his companions in arms by
his unreasonable long stories. Day after day he was continually imposing
on them the tax of a long story. Being once present at a court-martial
on a soldier, who had a good character, and who had committed a very
slight offence, his brother officers thought it a good opportunity to
try to correct Captain S—— of his failing. While then they were
deliberating on the sentence about to be pronounced, a certain major
turned to the president and said, ‘_Suppose we sentence him to hear two
of Captain S——’s long stories?_’”
“Very good! very good! Your stories are not like his, for they are not
long enough. That captain might be a kind-hearted man, after all.”
“Very likely; a kind-hearted disposition will show itself in every
situation in life; and if soldiers and sailors are called on by the
stern duties of their profession to deal death among the enemies of
their country, yet may they, when the battle is over, exercise as much
humanity as other people. There is room for mercy to walk amid the
crowded camp, or on the deck of a battle ship, taking care that no life
shall be uselessly and wantonly sacrificed, and no prisoner used with
inhumanity. I have seen a soldier, who would fearlessly have led the
forlorn-hope, weep like a child on hearing of the death of his father;
and I have known as rough a sailor as ever took in a reef of the
mainsail, sob again, on receiving a letter from his mother.”
“Soldiers and sailors have hearts like other people.”
“I hope so. They are not brought up in a school that will allow them to
parade their feelings, but it would be wrong to say, on that account,
that they do not possess them. As an old soldier myself, I may be apt to
advance too much in their favour. Both in Spain and in India have I met
with instances without number, of kindly affections on the part of my
companions in arms. Again and again have I, in disastrous circumstances,
found in them warm-hearted sympathy, and more than once in a retreat
have I shared the last morsel of food of a starving brother officer.”
“That was very kind of them indeed.”
“I will give you one instance of true courage, intrepidity, and kind-
heartedness, that deserves to be remembered. A town in Spain, defended
by 1500 Carlists, was taken by assault, after two days’ resistance. One
house only was still defended by twenty-five men, who had shut
themselves up there with the family. For this act of desperate courage
the lives of the men, according to the terrible right, or rather custom,
of war, were forfeited; and a party of soldiers stormed the house, to
put them all to the sword. Already was the door forced, when the officer
of the attacking party hurried to the portal to prevent a useless loss
of life. His own soldiers presented their bayonets to his breast, and
threatened to destroy him, but he persisted in his heroic intention
until all his men but two were prevailed upon to show mercy. These two
persevered: they were Basque volunteers, of the _Chapels Gory_, who
never gave nor received quarter, and they demanded to be permitted to
kill two of the men at least. More savage than savages, they persisted
in their demand, invoking the sacred name of their Creator in aid of the
human sacrifice they were about to offer up! Still undaunted, the
resolute and humane officer resisted their cruel intentions. Courage
overcame ferocity: the Carlist soldiers, and the old men, women, and
children in the house, were saved. For this act of true heroism and
philanthropy the officer was immediately made a lieutenant-colonel.”
“That was capital! He deserved to be promoted, that he did. It was a
noble action!”
“In a letter, written to him by the general under whom he served, are
these words:—‘It is not out of mere form that I mention you, but because
I was witness, with extreme pleasure, to your courageous and generous
conduct. An entire family and several Carlist soldiers owe their lives
to the resolute protection you afforded them at the imminent peril of
your own.’”
“That action ought never to be forgotten. He was in as much danger of
his life as when fighting with the enemy.”
“Such a man as Lieutenant-colonel M——y is not likely to forsake his
colours. Soldiers and sailors attach much importance to their colours. A
red-coat will die before he will lose his standard, and you would almost
as easily persuade a blue-jacket to run his head into a cannon’s mouth
as to haul down his colours in the presence of an enemy.”
“What do you mean by colours? Are they flags?”
“They are: sailors hoist them on the masts of their ships, and soldiers
carry them at the head of their different regiments. Red-coats will not
lose their colours without a struggle; and, as I hinted before, Jack-
tars are _forward_ enough in _hoisting them up_, but very _backward_ in
_hauling them down_. When Admiral Duncan fought the Dutch, a seaman in
the midst of the battle nailed the colours to the mast; and at the
battle of Waterloo a standard-bearer clasped the colours so fast in
death that a sergeant, trying to no purpose to wrench them from him, on
the near approach of an enemy, made a violent effort, and, throwing the
dead corpse, colours and all over his shoulders, carried them off
together. The French seeing this, were charmed with the heroism of the
action, and hailed it with shouts of applause.”
[Illustration:
CARRYING AWAY THE DEAD BODY OF THE STANDARD BEARER.
]
“What a sight, to see him carrying off the dead soldier with the colours
in his hands!”
“Flags in the British navy are hoisted at the heads of the main, fore,
and mizen-masts; they are red, white, or blue. When on the main-mast,
they are the mark of an admiral; when on the fore-mast, of a vice-
admiral; and when on the mizen-mast, of a rear-admiral. The first flag
in Great Britain is the Royal Standard.”
“That must be a very grand flag indeed!”
[Illustration]
“It is, boys; and it is only hoisted when royalty comes on board, or on
very particular occasions. It displays the arms of the united kingdom.
[Illustration]
“The next flag is the Anchor of Hope. This is usually displayed when the
lord-high-admiral, or lords-commissioners of the Admiralty are on board.
[Illustration]
“And then comes the Union Flag; in which the crosses of St. George, St.
Andrew, and St. Patrick, are blended. This flag is appropriated to the
admiral of the fleet, who is the next officer under the lord-high-
admiral.
“After the Union Flag comes that of the White Squadron, at the main-
mast-head, and then the Blue, at the same mast-head. This is the lowest
which characterizes an admiral. Among soldiers the colours are very
various; and they generally bear some motto, or some allusion to the
battles in which the troops have distinguished themselves. Some have a
sphinx, to represent service in Egypt; others, an elephant or a tiger,
in allusion to service in India. It is a fine sight to see a squadron of
ships with their flags flying!”
“It must be; but there is one thing we cannot make out.”
“What is that, boys?”
“It puzzles us to make out how one ship can act in agreement with
another, when they are blowing about, or a long way off.”
“Why, they call out to one another; that is the way they manage the
affair.”
“Call out to one another?”
“Yes! ships talk with each other as freely as you do with your
companions, though you cannot always hear them speak.”
“Why, how can they talk with one another?”
“By signals; which are of three kinds: day-signals, night-signals, and
fog-signals. The day-signals are made by hoisting flags, jacks, and
pendants, and by firing guns. The night-signals are made by firing guns
and rockets, and by showing lights and false fires; and fog-signals are
made by firing of guns, at quick or slow intervals.”
“Well, this is very curious; but how can the hoisting a flag give any
particular information?”
“It would take too long, boys, to explain to you the system of signals,
if I fully understood it myself, which I do not; but I will try to make
you comprehend that it is very easy for one ship to talk with another.
Now, look at this print of different flags, and substitutes for flags,
taken from that talented work, the ‘United Service Journal,’ and suppose
that they stand for the same numbers as are placed under them.”
“Ay! now we shall know something about it.”
“Read also what is written under, about the cypher-flag and the
substitutes.”
[Illustration]
1 Substitute. 2 Substitute. 3 Substitute.
When the cypher-flag is put above another, it adds 10,000.
When the 1st substitute is put under a flag, it stands for the same
number as that flag.
When placed above the flag, it adds 11,000.
When the 2nd substitute is used, it is the same number as the second
flag flying.
When uppermost, it adds 12,000.
When the 3rd substitute is used, it stands for the same as the
uppermost flag flying. When above it, it adds 13,000.
“We are not able to make out how the flags are to be used. You must
please to explain it to us.”
“Suppose, then, that every ship in the navy had a general signal-book,
full of such orders and such sentences as are most likely to be wanted,
and every one of them numbered. Do you not see that when flag No. 7 is
hoisted by one ship, other ships have only to look at No. 7 in their
signal-book, to know what it means.”
“Yes, that is very clear. But can thirteen flags say all that can be
wanted to be said?”
“A system of signals of thirteen flags, which I once saw, was able, by
using only four flags at a time, to form nearly fourteen thousand
combinations. I will show you how to form numbers with the flags in the
print.
[Illustration]
Hoist flag No. 7, and it will stand for 7.
Hoist it with the 1st substitute under it, and the two will stand for
77.
Hoist these with the 2nd substitute under them, and they will stand
for 777.
Hoist all these with the 3rd substitute under them, and they will
stand for 7777.”
“How very curious! We never saw anything like this before.”
“There are methods also of changing the signals, to prevent an enemy
from deriving any advantage if the general signal-book should fall into
his hands. The rapidity with which signals are given and repeated by
different ships is astonishing. Up goes a flag, hoisted by the Admiral,
rolled round like a ball; when it has reached the mast-head it bursts
out, and in a twinkling at the mast-head of other vessels you see the
same signal floating in the breeze.”
“How is it that they can manage this so cleverly?”
“Practice and good telescopes will do wonders. And then the signal-
officers, from the state of things around them, know beforehand the
flags which are most likely to be wanted. You may form some notion, now,
of ships being able to talk one with another, when you see that thirteen
flags can send near fourteen thousand messages. There are several plans
by which soldiers may talk one with another with their muskets.”
“With their muskets?”
“Yes, as easily as sailors with their flags. Then there are modes, both
in the army and navy, of holding communication by the use of telegraphs
of different descriptions. I have not the time to dwell on these now,
but you shall see an alphabet, which has been invented for field-
signals: vedettes, or signal-men, in different attitudes, stand for the
letters. By this mode of signalizing, troops may communicate with each
other across a river, or on other positions, very easily. When once you
have an alphabet to work with, you may convey what message you like.”
“But, can men put themselves into the form of letters?”
“That is not necessary; for if a certain attitude is understood to stand
for a certain letter, it amounts to the same thing. Here, then, you have
the alphabet.”
[Illustration]
“When there is a dot at the end of the arm it represents the cap of the
signal-man. You see, then, that a man on one side a river might, by
making one letter at a time, communicate what word he pleased to a man
on the other side of the river, who might signalize it to another in the
same way, and so on to any distance required. There might also be other
signs, signifying words, or, indeed, sentences, such as ‘infantry,’
‘cavalry,’ ‘advance,’—‘retreat,’ ‘enemy,’ ‘squadron,’ ‘battalion,’
‘regiment.’”
“Famous! famous! With a little puzzling, we shall make it all out.”
“No doubt you will; patience and perseverance will work wonders. My
conversations with you about soldiers and sailors bring back old scenes
to my mind, that I had well nigh forgotten. If I should tell you the
same things two or three times over, or not be quite correct in my
narration, you must forgive me. True it is, that I have seen, heard, and
read a great deal, but my memory is not what it once was.”
“No! Why, you seem to remember things as if they were but yesterday. Can
you tell us something rather droll about sailors, just to finish up
with?”
“There is a description, given by a well-known author, of a sailor when
on shore, that will amuse you. It is drawn with much truth and ability.”
“Let us hear it, uncle; let us hear it!”
“The moment a sailor lands,” he says, “he goes to see the watchmaker, or
the old boy at The Ship. His first object is to spend his money; but his
first sensation is, the strange firmness of the earth, which he goes
treading in a sort of heavy-light way, half waggoner and half dancing-
master, his shoulders rolling, and his feet touching and going; the same
way, in short, in which he keeps himself prepared for all the rolling
chances of the vessel, when on deck. There is always, to us, this
appearance of lightness of foot, and heavy strength of upper works, in a
sailor. And he feels it himself.”
“That is exactly to the life! It would be impossible to describe a
sailor’s walk better!”
“He lets his jacket fly open, and his shoulders slouch, and his hair
grow long, to be gathered into a heavy pig-tail; but when full dressed,
he prides himself on a certain gentility of toe, on a white stocking,
and a natty shoe, issuing lightly out of the flowing blue trowsers. His
arms are neutral, hanging and swinging in a curve aloof; his hands, half
open, look as if they had just been handling ropes, and had no object in
life but to handle them again. He is proud of appearing in a new hat and
slops, with a belcher handkerchief flowing loosely round his neck, and
the corner of another out of his pocket. Thus equipped, with pinchbeck
buckles in his shoes, which he bought for gold, he puts some tobacco in
his mouth, not as if he were going to use it directly, but as if he
stuffed it in a pouch on one side, as a pelican does fish, to employ it
hereafter; and so, with Bet Monson at his side, and perhaps a cane or
whanghee twisted under his other arm, sallies forth to take possession
of all Lubberland.”
“Ha! ha! ha! That is capital! He was prettily taken in with his
pinchbeck buckles; but it would not matter, for they would pass with him
for gold.”
“He buys everything that he comes athwart, nuts, gingerbread, apples,
shoe-strings, beer, brandy, gin, buckles, knives, a watch,—two, if he
has money enough,—gowns, and handkerchiefs for Bet, and his mother, and
sisters; dozens of superfine best men’s cotton stockings; dozens of
superfine best women’s cotton ditto; best good check, for shirts, though
he has too much already; infinite needles and thread, to sew his
trowsers with some day; a footman’s laced hat; bear’s-grease to make his
hair grow, by way of joke; several sticks; all sorts of Jews’ articles;
a flute, which he can’t play, and never intends; a leg of mutton, which
he carries somewhere to roast, and for a piece of which the landlord of
The Ship makes him pay twice what he gave for the whole;—in short, all
that money can be spent upon, which is everything but medicine gratis;
and this he would insist on paying for.”
“Poor Jack! he is never to be trusted on shore with money in his
pocket.”
“He would buy all the painted parrots on an Italian’s head, on purpose
to break them, rather than not spend his money. He has fiddles, and a
dance, at The Ship, with oceans of flip and grog; and gives the blind
fiddler tobacco for sweetmeats, and half-a-crown for treading on his
toe. He asks the landlady, with a sigh, after her daughter Nance, and
finding that she is married and in trouble, leaves five crowns for her;
which the old lady appropriates as part payment for a shilling in
advance. He goes to the Port playhouse with Bet Monson, and a great red
handkerchief full of apples, gingerbread nuts, and fresh beef; calls out
for the fiddlers and ‘Rule Britannia;’ pelts Tom Sikes in the pit, and
compares Othello to the black ship’s cook, in his white nightcap. When
he comes to London, he and some messmates take a hackney-coach full of
Bet Monsons and tobacco-pipes, and go through the streets, smoking and
lolling out of window. He has ever been cautious of venturing on
horseback; and among his other sights in foreign parts, relates, with
unfeigned astonishment, how he has seen the Turks ride;—‘Only,’ says he,
guarding against the hearer’s incredulity, ‘they have saddle-boxes to
hold ’em in, fore and aft; and shovels like for stirrups.’ He will tell
you how the Chinese drink, and the Negurs dance, and the monkeys pelt
you with cocoa-nuts; and how King Domy would have built him a mud hut,
and made him peer of the realm, if he would have stopped with him, and
taught him to make trowsers.”
“Never was a better account of a sailor than this. Everything about him
seems to be thought of.”
“He has a sister at a ‘school for young ladies,’ who blushes with a
mixture of pleasure and shame at his appearance; and whose confusion he
completes by slipping four-pence into her hand, and saying out loud,
that he has ‘no more copper’ about him. His mother and elder sisters, at
home, doat on all he says and does, telling him, however, that he is a
great sea-fellow, and was always wild ever since he was a hop-o’-my-
thumb no higher than the window-locker. He tells his mother, she would
be a duchess in Paranaboo; at which the good old portly lady laughs and
looks proud. He frightens his sisters with a mask, made after the New
Zealand fashion, and is forgiven for his learning. Their mantle-piece is
filled by him with shells and sharks’ teeth; and when he goes to sea
again, there is no end of tears, and ‘God bless you!’ and homemade
gingerbread.”
[Illustration]