"Ah, you're the little shaver Mr Tangent spoke of to me the other night
when I dined with the Admiral! He said he knew your father, and thought
you would turn out a smart officer; so, I hope you'll support the good
character he gave you. Belay there, bosun's mate, you'll let that cask
down by the run if you don't look out!" he cried out suddenly to a stout
petty officer who was superintending a gang of men who were taking in
provisions from one of the lighters alongside, and lowering the same
into the after hold. "Steady, you may carry on, now; that's better!"
"Now, my little friend," he continued, resuming his conversation with
me. "We'll see how smart you can be. Run forruds and tell the bosun I
want the sail burton brought aft, and an up and down tackle fitted to
the mainyard, if you are able to recollect all that?"
"Oh, yes, sir," I replied, touching my cap again, "I know what a sail
burton is, sir."
"And an up and down tackle, too?"
"Yes, sir; it is used for setting up the lower rigging."
"Bravo, youngster! You'll be a man before your mother if you go on at
that rate!" said he, with a hearty laugh at my assurance, which seemed
to frighten the other cadets who came with me, for they looked as meek
as mice.
But, as I trotted away at a sign of dismissal from him to seek the
boatswain on the forecastle, where I knew his especial domain lay, I
heard Commander Nesbitt say in an undertone to one of the lieutenants
who just then stepped down from the poop to join him. "That's a sharp
lad, Cheffinch, and one who'll make his mark, if I'm not mistaken. He's
quite a contrast to the sucking Nelsons they generally send us from the
training-ship, who don't, as a rule, know a goose from a gridiron!"
What the lieutenant said in reply to this complimentary allusion to my
whilom comrades of the _Illustrious_, and the system of instruction
pursued on board that vessel, I cannot tell, for I was out of earshot,
hastening forward as speedily as I could, so as to deserve the good
opinion the commander seemed to have already formed of me.
This, I may here add, I succeeded in doing; for, I made my reappearance
on the quarter-deck in a brace of shakes, with the boatswain in person
and a party of topmen bringing aft the respective "purchases" the
commander had specified--blocks and strops and running gear of all
sorts, all ready for instant service.
"Mr Hawser," said Commander Nesbitt to the boatswain as we got near,
giving me a kindly nod to express his approval of my having carried out
his orders so promptly, "I must have that main-tops'l yard up before you
pipe to dinner."
"Very good, sir," replied the warrant officer, touching his cap again,
as he had done when approaching the sacred precincts of the
quarter-deck. "The spar, sir, is fitted all right for going up; but,
sir, it's getting on now for Seven Bells."
"I don't care what the time is, bosun; it's got to be done, and that's
the long and the short of it," retorted the commander sharply, flashing
his eyes in a way that showed he was not to be put off when he had once
made up his mind. "Maintop, there!"
"Ay, ay, sir," answered the captain of the top, looking over the rail
instantly and leaving off the work of fitting the upper standing
rigging, on which he and his men were engaged when this vigorous hail
reached the top, thundered out with all the power of the commander's
lungs. "Want me down, sir?"
"Down? No, my man; but lower a whip at once for the sail burton, and
you can lower the tops'l tye as well. I'm going to send up the yard at
once!"
"Ay, ay, sir."
Promptitude begets like promptness.
Before you could say "Jack Robinson," the whip was down and the purchase
in the top; then, the standing part of the tackle was made fast to the
yard pendant and the spar swayed up, as the men walked away with the
fall, which was rove through a snatchblock hooked on to a ringbolt fixed
in the deck and led to the capstan.
Ere a quarter-of-an-hour had elapsed, the yard was slung and firmly
secured, with the halliards and braces rigged in proper fashion.
In the middle of the operation, however, the attention of the
hard-worked commander was called in another direction.
A fat, heavy, seafaring-looking man in a short pilot jacket came up to
him as he was uttering rapid commands to the sailors aloft in stentorian
accents from the poop-rail.
"Beg pardon, sir," said this gentleman, whom I presently learnt was Mr
Quadrant, the master, or navigating officer of the ship; one who used in
the old days to have charge of all the material on board a man-of-war,
just as the commander looks after the crew. "None of those stores, sir,
have come off from the dockyard that were promised this morning, and all
my hands are idle below. What am I to do, sir?"
"Send a boat at once to the storekeeper, to lodge a complaint."
"Yes, sir. But, there's only the jollyboat left, sir, now, besides the
dinghy. All the others are ashore."
"Well, send the jollyboat; and, I say, Mr Quadrant," added Commander
Nesbitt as the master was waddling off down the companionway, "tell the
midshipman who goes with the boat that if the things are not sent aboard
at once, he is to make application at the Admiral's office, complaining
of the delay. P'raps, though, you'd better go yourself, eh?"
"I will if you like, sir," sighed the master, who had already had too
much exercise between decks and up and down the hatchways to feel
enamoured of a walk ashore over the rough cobblestones of the dockyard.
"But, I don't think they'll hurry any the more for me than they would
for a middy, sir. He would be able, too, sir, to cheek the yard people
all the better, sir."
"Just as you please, Mr Quadrant," returned the commander in a decided
tone. "I should prefer, however, your going yourself to sending any
other officer." This was equivalent to an order; and the master with a
deep groan disappeared, only to make room for Mr Nipper, the purser.
This gentleman came across the gangway from the hulk--on board of which
we were all berthed while our own ship was fitting out. He seemed in a
great heat, as if something had put him out very much indeed, looking
worried beyond endurance.
"Captain Nesbitt, sir," said he to the commander, touching his cap like
the others, "what am I to do, sir?"
"I'm sure I can't say, Mr Nipper," rejoined the commander in an
off-hand way, for he had just given the order to sway the yard aloft,
and was watching whether the spar cleared the top and keeping a wary eye
that it did not get foul of the mainstay, or something else aloft.
"What's the matter?"
"Those people at the victualling yard haven't sent our fresh beef yet
aboard, sir," answered the purser, a thin, fussy little man, in a
whining way, as if he were going to cry, "and there's nothing to serve
out for the men's dinners--at least, not enough for all."
"That's too bad!" cried the commander, indignantly; "why did you not
tell me of this before?"
"I was expecting the boat would come with the meat every minute, sir."
"Is there no beef at all on board?"
"Only the wardroom and gunroom supply."
"Then serve that out at once to the men--they sha'n't go without their
dinner if I can help it."
"But, sir, what will the officers do?"
"Ah, you must settle that as best as you can with the wardroom steward,
sir! Let this, Mr Nipper, be a lesson to you in future not to put off
things until the last moment! You may take the dinghy, if you like,
by-and-by and go to Clarence yard yourself, to see what can be done for
getting some more beef for the wardroom and gunroom mess; but, I cannot
spare another officer or man. We're much too short-handed already!"
This was true enough, for we had only about a couple of hundred men of
our crew, including the seamen, gunners and petty officers, as yet
aboard.
In those days only the marines and boys were drafted to ships when first
commissioned, the compliment having to be made up as hands volunteered
to join in response to the bills inviting enrolment that were stuck up
in some selected public-house or tavern ashore, which, as the
master-at-arms told me, was called the "Randy-woo!"
The continuous service system now in vogue was not adopted until within
a comparatively recent period, say some thirty years ago at the outside;
prior to this all bluejackets on their discharge from a ship when she
was paid off, instead of being merely granted leave according to the
present custom, became absolutely free men and having the right to quit
the service, if they so wished, for good and all.
Although, should they change their minds after their money was all spent
and come forward to join another ship about to be commissioned, the
different periods they might have previously served afloat counted
towards the time required to qualify them for a pension.
When, therefore, the _Candahar_ was ordered to hoist the pennant and her
captain and other officers appointed, she only received a certain
percentage of trained gunnery hands from the _Excellent_, with a few
boys and marines.
She had to go into the open market, as it were, for the rest of her
crew, like any ordinary ship about to sail on a trading voyage.
Such being the case, following the usual practice at the time, the "Earl
Saint Vincent," a tavern on Common Hard, was chosen for our
rallying-place, or rendezvous.
A large broadsheet was exposed in the window of this tavern inviting
able-bodied seamen and artificers to join the battleship; one of our
lieutenants attending each day for a certain number of hours at the
little shipping office which was established in the bar parlour of the
tavern to inspect the discharge notices and certificates of any sailors
or landsmen who might wish to join.
The officer relegated to this duty took care to satisfy himself that any
candidates he selected should pass muster with the commander before
sending them on board.
He knew well enough that if the men had previously served in the navy
and their characters were marked "very good," or even "good," there was
little doubt of their acceptance.
Up to the date of my going on board the ship, though, our recruiting
agency had not been very successful.
Not half our required number of men, had, indeed, as yet volunteered for
the _Candahar_; for, most of the old hands worth their salt fought shy
of the station she was reported to be going to, on account less of its
unhealthiness, which to Jack is of small account, than to the absence of
any prize-money or extra pay, such as might be gained even on the deadly
West Coast, with its malarial fever and pestiferous mangrove swamps that
form the white man's grave.
But, all of a sudden, public opinion, so far as the sailor world was
concerned, veered round in our favour.
It had leaked out that there was a prospect of our having a scrimmage
with the mandarins.
In this case, of course, there would be dollars and other sorts of
"loot" knocking about.
So, that very day, volunteers began to come off to the ship; not by
threes and fours as they had done before, but by twenties and more at a
stretch.
Of these the launch brought off a large cargo alongside immediately
after the commander's interview with the purser; and I thus had the
opportunity of seeing how the men were scrutinised and sorted for the
"watch bill," which the chief of our executive made out himself--as
indeed he seemed to do everything, looking after everybody else all the
while.
The coxswain of the launch, with a touch of his forelock, handed over
the discharge notes and certificates of such of the motley group that
came up the side that had these documents, which the second lieutenant,
a knowing fellow, who was in charge of our shipping office that morning,
had pocketed when he engaged the men; doing this as a sort of
preventative to their backing out of the bargain afterwards.
These greasy papers, which he did not open, were then passed on to the
midshipman on duty on the quarter-deck, with orders to take them to the
purser's office; and the commander then proceeded to muster the lot
abaft the mainmast bitts.
"What were you aboard your last ship?" asked he of a smart-looking
seaman on the right of the line as they stood across the deck facing
him, who appeared neater and nattier than the rest. "What rating did
you take up?"
"Cap'en of the foretop, sir."
"All right, you're the very man I want!" said the commander. "You may
go and do the duty, and if you are diligent and active you shall have
the rate."
The next chap stated he had been an able seamen in his previous ship, so
he was sent on to the forecastle to add to the long roll already there.
So was another and another, till Commander Nesbitt lighted on a man who
said he had been a shipwright in the dockyard, whom he marked down to
join the carpenter's crew.
Several ordinary seamen followed, until the fag end of the lot was
reached, consisting of a number of greenhorns who had never been to sea
previously; and these, on declaring their willingness to serve Her
Gracious Majesty, were sent down into the steerage to join the
after-guard.
"What are you?" inquired the commander of a sooty sort of gentleman,
who, with another more morose personage, stood at the extreme rear of
this group. "I mean, what did you do ashore for a livelihood, my man?"
"Wot hev h'I been a-doin' of fur a lively-hood, sir?" repeated the sooty
gentleman, who evidently was a wag, speaking, albeit with a comical
expression on his countenance, with a native dignity that would have won
the praise of Lord Chesterfield. "W'y, sir, h'I'm a `h'upright,' sir,
that's wot h'I h'am!"
"An `upright'!" exclaimed Commander Nesbitt, with a smile. "I've heard
of wheelwrights, and millwrights and shipwrights, of course, but never
of such a calling as an `upright'--what's that, eh?"
"I thought as 'ow I'd puzzle you, sir," replied the man with a grin.
"I'm a chimbly-sweeper by trade."
"Oh, a chimney-sweeper? Then you ought to be good at climbing, and I
cannot do better than send you aloft. You can go forrud now."
Saying this, the commander turned to the last man the morose one,
questioning him in like fashion.
"And what have you been?"
"I'm a `downright,' sir," said he, as grave as a judge. "Wot they calls
a `downright,' sir."
"Now, don't you try on any of your jokes with me, my man, or you'll find
yourself in the wrong box, which is the strong box on board ship, and
vulgarly called chokey!"
"I ain't a-joking," replied the other, speaking as gravely as before and
without even the shadow of a smile on his face. "I'm a `downright,'
that's what I am."
"Pray, what profession is that," asked the commander, sarcastically. "I
would not like to hurt your feelings by calling your avocation a trade!"
"You're right, sir," returned the other, as calmly as possible, without
turning a hair; "I'm a gravedigger."
This fairly made the commander collapse.
"You may muster with the after-guard," was the only reply he made, but
we all could see that he had hard work to keep his gravity, as he turned
towards the boatswain's mate and ordered him to pipe the men to dinner
in a sharp tone; and he said to Mr Cheffinch, the gunnery lieutenant,
when he crossed over the deck to go on board the old _Blake_ to lunch,
"He had me nicely there, like that other joker the chimney-sweeper. It
must have been a planned thing between the two rascals!"