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 "_Générale_," 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."