THE STEAMER MIDDY.
“I’m much obleeged to you, Jack Somers, for what you done,” said
Becket, as they sat down in the mizzen-top, on the evening after the
conference at the mainmast.
“I knew, after what had happened, that the first-luff would want you
to have your old place; and I thought I’d help him out a bit,” replied
Jack.
“It was handsome of you, Jack; and, with all my faults, I’m not mean
enough to keep still after what you’ve done for me. You’ve been
unanimous--no, that’s not what the shore lubbers call it.”
“Magnanimous,” added Rushington, whose vocabulary was more extensive
than that of the mass of man-of-war’s men.
“Ay, ay: that’s the word. It’s as long as a frigate’s cable; but it’s
just what I meant. You saved my life, and you have always treated me
handsomely, Somers. Now you’ve put me back just where I was before. I
don’t want to be foolish, Jack; but I’d do anything in the world for
you.”
“Thank you, Becket. I’m glad I had a chance to do you a good turn.”
“I’ve been a rough fellow, in my day; but you’ve taught me a lesson
that all the parsons in the country couldn’t have got into my nuddle.
By the way, Jack, do you know what I thought of you when we first come
aboard the ship?”
“I haven’t the least idea.”
“Well, Jack, I thought you was one of them pious sort of lubbers that
say long prayers, and go canting up and down the rigging, and shirk
their duty whenever they get a chance,--one of them chaps that’s always
preaching what they don’t practice.”
“I don’t see where you got such an idea as that of me.”
“Nor I nuther, Jack; but I did get it: and I was determined to make you
show your hand, or pick a quarrel with you. We had some talk about you
in mess No. 2, and I told the boys I meant to show you up. I was rather
taken aback when you wouldn’t odd-and-even. You got the laugh on me,
and I meant to sarve you out for it. You’re a good fellow, Jack; and,
what’s more’n that, you’re just my idee of a good Christian.”
“I’m glad your opinion of me has changed,” laughed Jack. “I’m sure
I haven’t lost anything by being fair and just towards you. I’m a
quartermaster now, and shall still wear my ‘eagle, anchor, and star.’”
“Silence in the main-top!” shouted the officer of the deck at this
interesting point in the conversation.
The sharp rebuke of the officer of the deck was called forth by a
disturbance in the main-top, where some extraordinary event appeared
to have transpired. Some of the topmen were laughing, and some were
swearing; and the aspect of the matter was, that a practical joke had
just been perpetrated. The mizzen-top was at once deeply interested in
the affairs of the main-top; and the quarter-watch were exceedingly
curious to learn the particulars. Jack Somers, whose new rating had
relieved him from duty as a topman, came down to learn the facts, which
were communicated to him by Ben Blinks.
The captain of the after-guard was an epicure, and had prepared, for
his own especial use, a dish of dunderfunk,--a man-of-war delicacy
which comes the nearest to what the Tremont House would serve up
under the more pretentious title of “cracker-pudding” than any other
dish that can be mentioned. It is made of “hard-tack,” pounded up,
with “slush” and molasses stirred in, and baked brown in a tin dish.
The captain of the after-guard had no relish for the gross viands of
the mess-table; for he was a very nice young man. Indeed, all the
after-guard are nice young men; being selected for their trim and
dandy appearance, because their duty lies on the quarter-deck, to
haul the main-braces, to handle the spanker-sheet, brails, and vangs,
and similar work in that part of the ship where the officers “most do
congregate.”
Spear, the captain of the after-guard, had duly prepared his dish of
dunderfunk, and bribed the ship’s cook to bake it for him. At the
galley, or cooking-stove, of a large man-of-war, a marine is usually
stationed, in busy times, to prevent any evil-disposed persons in
the crew from indulging forbidden appetites. In other words, a roast
chicken, duck, or goose, has been known to disappear from the galley in
the most mysterious manner; but, of course, appropriated by some hungry
tars who had not the spirit of the eighth commandment in their hearts.
In this manner had Spear’s dunderfunk taken to itself wings; and none
better than he knew how vain a thing it would be to find the guilty
purloiner of the delicious mess.
The captain of the after-guard was exceedingly wroth at first; but,
when his anger had spent itself, he determined to wreak upon the thief
or thieves a sweet revenge. The surgeon’s steward kindly provided him
with a quantity of ipecacuanha, which the malicious conspirator mixed
up with pounded ship-biscuit, and put the dough in a baking-pan. The
mess was duly slushed and sweetened, and committed to the care of the
ship’s cook, who, with half a dozen others, had been intrusted with the
secret.
When the dunderfunk was properly cooked, it was placed in a tempting
position; and the cook and marine cunningly afforded the victims
abundant opportunity to pilfer the pudding. The half-dozen pairs of
eyes that were watching for the issue of the plot presently saw a
main-topman slyly appropriate the dish, and carry it to the spar-deck.
The fellow hung around the fife-rail of the mainmast for a time; but,
as no one seemed to be watching him, he attached to it a small cord
which had been dropped down from the main-top for the purpose. It
was then hoisted up by the accomplices of the thief, who immediately
hastened up to share in the spoil.
The main-topmen partook greedily of the pudding; and, as the medicinal
ingredient had been liberally supplied, the victims of the joke were
soon in a suffering condition. Spear’s interests were represented in
the main-top by a friend; and, as soon as the thief and his accomplices
began to be sick, he began to laugh so immoderately, that the joke had
to be explained. Not only the stomachs but the tempers of the victims
rebelled. They were mad with everybody, and disgusted with themselves;
and, while they swore and vowed vengeance upon the authors of the joke,
those who had not partaken laughed, till the din from the main-top
constituted a breach of discipline, which called forth the sharp rebuke
from the officer of the deck.
The history of the joke spread through the ship, and undoubtedly
penetrated the sacred recesses of the cabin and wardroom. Every
man on board was in a broad grin for the next twenty-four hours;
and the victims of the plot became livid with rage when anyone
ventured to mention “dunderfunk emetics.” We sincerely hope that
the moral influence of the conspiracy was not lost upon them, and
that it inspired in them a deep and lasting reverence for the eighth
commandment.
We beg the reader’s pardon for the intrusion of this nauseous incident
in our story, which nothing but fidelity to the truth of history would
have induced us to narrate. It is only a specimen of the practical
jokes which men-of-war’s men play off upon each other, and which afford
an agreeable, but not always salutary, relief from the monotony of life
on board ship, especially in seasons of inactivity.
The Harrisburg had been somewhat injured by the shot and shell of
the rebels in the two actions in which she had been engaged; and,
while she remained at anchor opposite the city, her repairs were in
progress. At the same time, by order of the flag-officer, the little
steamer which had been rescued from the flames by the crew of the
Harrisburg was refitted for service. A thirty-two-pounder was placed
upon her forecastle, and a twenty-four-pounder on each side abaft the
paddle-boxes; and she was suitably prepared for the accommodation
of her future officers and crew. Her name was changed, and she was
henceforth to be known as the Middy. Giving her this undignified
appellative was a freak of the naval officers in charge of the
difficult task of finding a suitable title for the new-born gunboat:
but there was no small degree of fitness in the name; for the steamer
was both small and smart, which are supposed to be the representative
characteristics of the young gentlemen whose official position is
designated by the word.
The Middy made a trial trip when her repairs were completed, and proved
herself to be even more than had been anticipated by her sanguine
projector. She went down to Fort Jackson, and returned, making splendid
time, and working to the entire satisfaction of Mr. Bankhead, who had
superintended her alterations. On her arrival from below, she came to
anchor under the quarter of the Harrisburg.
On the following day, great was the astonishment of the crew when it
was whispered through the ship that Mr. Bankhead, at his own request,
had been appointed to the command of the little gunboat. But the report
was received with incredulity.
“Don’t you believe one word of it, my darling,” said Tom Longstone, to
whom Jack had carried the astounding news.
“I hope it isn’t true,” added Jack, who was sorely troubled at the idea
of losing his wardroom friend.
“Not one word of it, my dear. Do you suppose Mr. Bankhead is goin’ for
to let himself down into such a little craft as that? Why, Jack, my
boy, he ought to have the command of a sloop-of-war.”
“But the Middy is a fine little vessel.”
“No matter for that, my lad: she aren’t big enough to hold a man like
Mr. Bankhead. If they should send off Mr. Dickey, or even Mr. McBride,
I shouldn’t so much wonder. But to send off the fust-luff in a
cockle-shell like that,--why, it aren’t reasonable.”
“But if he should go----”
“I tell you, my darling, he aren’t goin’. Why, I’d almost as soon think
of the commodore’s goin’ in her himself!”
“But the officers are selected according to the service they have to
perform, as well as to the size of the vessel. The Middy may be ordered
to duty which requires one of the best officers in the fleet.”
“That may be, Jack,” said Tom, taking off his cap, and rubbing his bald
head.
“Suppose he should go, what will become of me?”
“He aren’t goin’, I tell ye, my dear,” persisted Tom. “You mought as
well talk of the cap’n’s goin’ cockswain of the dingy!”
Notwithstanding the very decided opinions of Quartermaster Longstone,
Mr. Bankhead was detached from the Harrisburg, and ordered to the
Middy. The report passed from the wardroom to the steerage, and thence,
through Mr. Bobstock, the boatswain, to Cheeks, sergeant of marines,
who conveyed it to a ship’s corporal, by whom it was disseminated
through the ship, clothed with such an air of authority, that even
Longstone and Grummet were compelled to believe.
“It may be so, Jack,” said Tom.
“There can no longer be a doubt,” added Jack.
“All I got to say is, if it is so, then the Middy’s goin’ to do a big
thing somewhere.”
“I wouldn’t care, if I were only sure of going in her,” continued Jack.
“Do you want to go off in the Middy, and leave me here, my darling?
Haven’t I watched over you like a baby? Haven’t I mended your trousers,
like your grandmother? Didn’t I put that ‘eagle, anchor, and star’
in your blue frock? Haven’t I nussed ye, and tended ye, and made a
man-o’-war’s man of ye? And now you want to go for to leave me!”
“No, I don’t want to leave you, Tom. I want you to go with me.”
“You’d sartinly git killed in the fust action, if I w’a’nt there to
take care of ye.”
“You shall be there, Tom. I won’t leave the Harrisburg without you, if
I can help it.”
“Give us your flipper, my dear. I hain’t got nobody in this world but
you, Jack; and, if you cast off and leave me, I won’t keer much what
becomes of this old hulk.”
“I will not leave you, if I can help it, Tom,” replied Jack, much moved
by the tenderness of the old man.
“I know you won’t, Jack. I allus took you for an honest lad; and, if
you desart me, I shall be disappointed,--that’s all. Now read me a
chapter in your mother’s Testament, my darling.”
Jack took the Testament from its place of concealment under the
mess-table, and read--as he had often done before to the old
quartermaster--a portion of a chapter. Tom, as was his habit, commented
upon the text in man-of-war style. Our sailor-boy listened, but with
only half his attention; for the Middy was still an anxious topic in
his mind.
A week elapsed before any decided steps were taken in manning the
Middy; and Jack was full of doubts and fears. In the meantime, the
little steamer had taken in her ammunition, small-arms, provisions, and
stores, and seemed to be entirely ready for a cruise.
We have continually spoken of the Middy as a little steamer; and so
she was, when compared with the larger steamers of the fleet: but she
was extensive enough to require the services of forty men, including
petty-officers and marines, besides her officers and the engineers and
firemen. Her crew was selected with great care from the squadron; and
we are happy to inform our anxious readers that both Jack Somers and
Tom Longstone were drafted into her, to their intense satisfaction.
Passed-midshipman Hayswell was appointed first-lieutenant, and Mr.
Midshipman Dickey was ordered to the little gunboat in the capacity of
second-lieutenant,--a promotion which added three inches to his height
in a single instant.
The officers and crew of the Middy went on board, and at once made
themselves comfortable in their new quarters.