The civilian and warrant or standing officers—The surgeon—The
surgeon’s assistants—The chaplain—The boatswain—The purser—The
gunner—The carpenter—Mates and yeomen—The sailmaker—The ship’s
police—The ship’s cook
The surgeon, who messed with the ward-room officer, and slept in a
cabin near the ward-room, had to pass an examination at the Transport
Board, in addition to that imposed by Surgeons’ Hall, before he could
receive his warrant. He was “generally the most independent officer
in the ship,” as his duties were essentially different to those of
the executive. He had charge of the sick and hurt seamen, of the
medicines and medical comforts, and of the ship’s hygiene generally.
On coming aboard a ship commissioning he had to examine the doctor’s
stores, and to see them duly stowed away in the medicine-chests or
sea-dispensary below-decks. When the newly raised or pressed men
were brought aboard he had to sound them and examine them, not only
for their fitness for the service, but for any trace of infectious
or contagious disease. When the “quota men,” or my Lord Mayor’s men,
came before him he caused hot water to be prepared, so that the men
could have their heads shaved, and their bodies scrubbed “from clue
to earring,” and their clothes very jealously boiled before they
mixed with the crew. At sea he had charge of the sick-berth, or
sick-bay, a small sea-hospital shut away from the rest of the ship by
wooden screens covered with canvas. As a rule this sick-bay was in
the forecastle, on the starboard side, but sometimes circumstances
made it necessary to pitch it on the orlop-deck, out of the way of
the enemy’s shot. Any sailor who felt sick reported himself to the
surgeon, or his assistants, in the forenoon. If he was found to be
ill he was removed from duty, and sent into the sick-bay, where a
certain number of the “waisters,” or least necessary of the crew,
acted as nurses to him. These sick-bay attendants kept the place
scrupulously clean, well fumigated, and sprinkled with vinegar.
A surgeon’s most common duty at sea was the dressing of ulcers,
to which the seamen were very subject. In Smollett’s time the
assistant-surgeon had to repair daily, in the forenoon, to the space
about the fore-mast, where his loblolly-boy, or dresser, banged
a mortar with a pestle, as a signal to the men to repair on deck
to have their sores dressed. In ships newly commissioned, typhus,
gaol, or ship fever was very common. The surgeons, as we have seen,
did all they could to prevent it, by disinfecting the quota men,
and by boiling or burning all “cloathes” brought from “Newgate, or
other suspected Prisons.” In spite of all they could do the gaol
fever destroyed large numbers of sailors every year. At sea the
most dreaded complaint was the scurvy. Surgeons had standing orders
to examine all those seamen who appeared in the least dejected or
sickly. The sailors disliked the sick-berth, and always hesitated
to report themselves when ill, because those in the sick-bay had to
go without their grog and tobacco. The lieutenants sometimes helped
the surgeons to pick out a sickly man before his ailment had fully
declared itself. By these means the epidemical complaints were kept
under. If a surgeon detected the least trace of scurvy in a man he
had to see that the fellow received a daily dosing with lime-juice,
a drink then newly instituted as an anti-scorbutic. Some ships which
had no lime juice used essence of malt, or molasses, or raw potatoes,
for this purpose.
A surgeon was expected to have a number of dressings always prepared,
in case the ship should “be suddenly brought to action.” He was
also expected to instruct the crew in the use of the tourniquet,
so that men with shattered stumps might have some chance of living
until the surgeon could take up their arteries. He was to visit
sick and wounded men twice daily, to see that the sick-bay stove,
of “clear-burning cinders,” was kept alight, and to make a careful
record not only of the sick men treated, but of the means taken to
prevent infection. A wooden ship, built of wood improperly seasoned,
was always damp and foul, “tending to produce disease and generate
infection.” The ballast was often dirty; the water in the bilges
was always putrid; the hold and orlop were badly ventilated; and the
gun-deck was packed like a sardine tin with several hundreds of men,
not all of whom were even tolerably cleanly in their habits. It was
a surgeon’s duty to ask the captain to fix a general washing-day
once in each week, whenever there was plenty of rain water, so that
the men’s clothes might be washed and then dried in the sun. At
intervals he was to ask that all the hammocks should be aired on
the forecastle, the lashings taken off, the blankets shaken, and
the mattresses hung in the sun. Now and then he had to fumigate
the ship. The most common means of doing this was by burning a
preparation of gunpowder, soaked in vinegar, in iron pans about the
decks. The powder sputtered for a long time, sending out a quantity
of acrid smoke, which was reckoned a powerful disinfectant. Burning
flowers of sulphur gave good results, and many found fires of fir
wood satisfactory. In dock, when a ship was very badly infected,
they seem to have used tobacco, burning it in great pans about the
gun-decks, with the ports and hatches closed, and the men standing at
their quarters “as long as they can bear it.” Sometimes the seamen’s
kit bags were hung up over “pots of burning brimstone.” Sometimes
pots of burning brimstone were placed between the guns and sprinkled
with vinegar. A very wholesome practice was the immersion of red-hot
irons, called loggerheads, into buckets of tar. This last method was
generally used to disinfect the sick-berth, when there were many sick. A
surgeon was expected to ask the captain from time to time to cause
iron fire buckets, containing burning charcoal, to be lowered into
the hold. The red embers were sprinkled with vinegar and brimstone
as soon as the buckets were in position. The well, the bilges, and
the recesses of the hold, were thus both dried and disinfected at the
same time. Another way of fumigation was by pouring sulphuric acid
and the powder of nitre upon heated sand. After Nelson’s death this
was the plan generally adopted.
In spite of all the fumigations the ships were never free from
unpleasant smells: the dank fusty smell of dry-rot, the acrid and
awful smell of bilge water, and the smells of decaying stores and
long defunct rats. Windsails and canvas ventilators were always
fitted, in fine weather, to drive pure air into the recesses; but
fine weather is the exception, not the rule, to the north of the
fortieth parallel. The ships were sometimes battened down for days
together, till every inch of timber dripped with salt water and the
condensation of the breaths of many men. One who knew these old ships
has testified that “there was always more or less stench” aboard the
best regulated ship, but that the stench was less penetrating, and
the danger of infection always slighter, in those ships which were
frequently dried by portable fires. A diligent surgeon, if he had the
fortune to sail with a sensible captain, could do much to better the
condition of the entire ship’s company.
The sick and wounded men were treated with comparative humanity.
They were given nightcaps, hair mattresses, free vaccination, and
sheets of real linen. The cook was sometimes bidden to boil up some
“sowens,” or “flummery,” from the ship’s oatmeal for them. The very
sick were given soft bread and “portable soup.” When fish were
“caught for the ship’s company,” they got the first helping. When
the officers had any fowls or similar delicacies in the ward-room,
they often sent portions forward for the sick-bay, with any wine they
had. But there were, nevertheless, certain cruel regulations in force
which made the lot of some of the sick men sufficiently terrible.
Lint was reckoned too expensive to be used for the washing of wounds.
Sponges were used instead, but the supply of sponges was limited,
and, in action, one sponge was often used to dress the wounds of a
dozen men. This practice naturally favoured the spreading of various
common forms of blood-poisoning. A man with a slight cut or abrasion
ran a very good chance of losing a limb by the poison of an infected
sponge. Another most barbarous restriction limited the supply of
mercury, as “being requisite only for complaints that might be
avoided.” A man attacked by one of those complaints was not allowed
to leave his duty, he was mulcted more than two weeks’ pay for the
medicines he drew, and no care was taken to separate him from his
uninfected shipmates.
At the beating of the drum to quarters, the surgeon and his
assistants were expected to repair to the after cockpit, to fit it
for the reception of the wounded. Some of the non-combatants, such
as the purser, the stewards, the chaplain, and the captain’s clerk,
accompanied them, to help the wounded men according to their power.
The midshipmen’s chests were drawn together, into a kind of platform.
A sail was strewn over the top of them in several folds, as a sort
of couch for the maimed men. In those ships in which the midshipmen
were without a table the chests were used for the operation-table,
though they were too low for comfortable surgery. When the operating
table had been cleared, some large candles were placed upon it, in
tin sconces, to give light to the surgeons. Other candles, in heavy
ship’s lanterns, were arranged about the bulkheads. A portable stove
was lighted, for the heating of oils, etc., during the operations.
A kid of water was generally heated there, in which the surgeons
could warm their saws and knives before commencing amputations. They
did this, not as a modern surgeon would do it, to sterilise the
steel, but in order to prevent the torture caused by the coldness
of the metal against the raw flesh and bone. At the sides of the
table were ranged several kids or half-tubs, some of them empty, to
receive amputated limbs, some of them full of water for the washing
of the surgeon’s arms, or for the cleansing of wounds. Close to
the operating table were some opened bottles of spirits for the
refreshment of those very weak from pain and loss of blood. There
were also full supplies of styptics, bandages, sponges, tourniquets,
saws, knives, etc. etc., all ready to hand, under a good light.
Before the firing began, the surgeon and his assistants stripped to
their shirts, rolled up their sleeves to the shoulders, and braced
themselves for a very ghastly experience. A few minutes after the
fighting commenced, the wounded came down, supported or carried by
their shipmates, who laid them on the operating table, and on the
platform prepared for them. A few minutes firing at close range would
generally send a dozen or twenty wounded men to the surgeons. It
was the strict, inviolable rule, that a wounded man should take his
turn. The first brought down was the first dressed. No favour was
shown to any man, were he officer or swabber. The rule was equitable,
but not without its disadvantages. Many men were so torn with shot
or splinter that they bled to death upon the sail long before the
surgeon worked his way round to them. The sailors were indeed taught
the use of the tourniquet, but it is one thing to adjust a tourniquet
on a mate’s arm, at the word of command in a quiet drill hour, and
quite another to fix it upon a stump of raw flesh that is pumping
blood, in all the fury and confusion of a sea-fight. Not many of the
men brought down to the surgeons were properly bandaged.
A ship’s cockpit during a battle must have presented a lively
picture of hell. There was the long narrow space shut in and
cramped by the overhead beams and lit by the evilly smelling
tallow candles. Up and down the deck in rows were the wounded, on
their bloodstained sail. Every now and then some heavy feet padded
down the hatchway, announcing the advent of another sufferer. Up
above was the thundering of the leaping and banging cannon, which
roared irregularly, shaking the ship in every timber. Nearer at
hand were the poor wounded men, some of them stunned, and chewing
placidly; others whimpering and moaning, some screaming and damning.
Up and down the rows went the chaplain and civilians, with weak
wine-and-water, lime juice, etc., for those in need of drink. In the
centre of the piece, bent over the table, were the operators, hard at
work. There was no time for lengthy diagnosis. The wound was always
self-evident, red, and horrible. Its extent and seriousness had to
be guessed from a glance. The surgeon’s first act was to rip off the
bloody clothes with his scissors, to bare the wound. A single hurried
look had to suffice. From that look he had to determine whether
to amputate or to save the limb, whether the wound were mortal or
worth dressing, etc. etc. If he decided to amputate, he passed his
ligatures as a man would take turns with a hammock-lashing. The
assistant gave the patient a gulp of rum, and thrust a leather gag
into his mouth, for him to bite upon in the agony of the operation.
After that, it took but a moment to make the two cuts, and to apply
the saw, while one assistant held the patient’s body, and another the
limb or fragment of limb which was coming off. There was really no
time for delay. Men were perhaps bleeding to death at every second
and it behoved the surgeons to hurry with each case.
The assistant-surgeon was generally a young man fresh from Surgeons’
Hall. He was expected to keep a record of all cases brought before
him, to visit the sick in the sick-bay, and to do his best to
cheer them. He dressed the men’s ulcers every forenoon, and had
control of the slighter general cases. A first-rate ship carried
three assistants; other large ships, two: and the smallest, one. An
assistant surgeon sometimes accompanied wooding and watering parties,
particularly in those places where the men were likely to be long
ashore. It was his duty on these expeditions to look after the health
of the men, to keep them from drinking putrid water, and eating acid
fruits in the heat of the day. In tropical climates he dosed them
religiously, twice every day, with a heavy dose of “bark” in a glass
of wine.
Neither the surgeon, nor his assistants, wore uniform until the
beginning of 1805. The pay varied with the length of service. A
surgeon who had served twenty years, received 18s. a day. One who had
served six years received 11s. a day. The assistants had to serve
three years before they ranked as full surgeons. There were three
grades of assistant surgeons, and the regulations enforced a year of
service in each grade. The pay of the lowest grade was 4s. a day. The
other two grades received 5 s. a day. Both surgeon and assistants
were expected to supply their own instruments.[19] Their medicine and
other gear were supplied by the Government. When not employed aboard
the King’s ships, or in the King’s naval hospitals, the surgeons and
assistants drew half-pay.
The chaplain of a ship of war (he was generally known as the rook,
the psalm-singer, or the sky-pilot) had to be a clergyman of the
Established Church. Many ships carried a chaplain, for the Admiralty
instructions compelled them to accept any properly recommended
clergyman “of good moral character,” who cared to offer himself
for the berth. It is not certain what position chaplains held in
the ships of Nelson’s time, but they probably had cabins “in the
ward-room or gun-room,” and ranked and messed with the ward-room
officers. They received a stipend of about £150 per annum, with an
extra allowance for a servant, and a bounty of £20 a year to all who
qualified as schoolmasters at the Trinity House. The captain had
orders to see that the chaplain received “every proper attention
and respect, due to his sacred office.” He had also to order the
ship’s company to hear divine service and a sermon every Sunday
morning, “if the duties of the ship, or the state of the weather do
not absolutely prevent it.” He had, moreover, to use his influence
to support the chaplain, by preventing “all profane cursing and
swearing, all drunkenness, gaming, rioting and quarrelling, and in
general everything which may tend to the disparagement of religion,
or to the promoting of vice and immorality.” The chaplain, for his
part, was expected to take care of the midshipmen, and to teach
the ship’s boys (or cause them to be taught) their catechisms and
the Holy Scriptures. The boys who said their catechism well were
rewarded with sixpences. Those who were idle or stupid were punished.
The chaplain had to attend the sick and wounded in the sick-bay or
cockpit, “to prepare them for death, and to comfort or admonish
them.” Those who died at sea were buried by him at the gangway in the
presence of all hands. Those who were killed in action were generally
thrown overboard without service of any kind. In some ships, even
as late as the battle of the Nile, it was the custom for the ship’s
company to muster to prayers before going in to battle. In times of
stress, in storm, when the ship was on fire, or sinking, etc. etc.,
the chaplain was to set an example of Christian fortitude, and to
cheer the men to their duty while the danger lasted. Captain Glascock
tells a tale of a chaplain aboard the _Mæander_, who took his spell
at the pumps to encourage the seamen. Marryat tells of another, who
helped to put out a fire.
Some ships carried a schoolmaster in addition to the chaplain. It was
the duty of the schoolmaster to teach the young gentlemen the art
of navigation for two or three hours each morning. A schoolmaster
received from £2, 8s. to £2 a month, with a bounty of £5 for each
midshipman in his class. He messed with the ward-room or gun-room
men, wore plain or civilian clothes, and slept in a cabin near
the ward-room, or in the steerage. To receive an appointment as
schoolmaster one had to pass an examination in navigation before the
authorities at Trinity House.
Next in importance to the second masters, and ranking above the
master’s mates and midshipmen, was the boatswain, an officer, indeed,
but a warrant or standing officer, not “on the quarter-deck,” like
the gentlemen we have been describing. A boatswain had charge of the
“boats, sails, rigging, colours, anchors, cables and cordage.” He was
generally an old sailor, grizzled and tanned, who knew his business
as well as it could be known. No man could be appointed boatswain
until he had served a year as a petty officer, to the satisfaction
of his captain. On receiving his warrant he was expected to get his
stores on board, and to examine every inch of rigging in the ship, in
order to test its soundness, before the ship sailed. When at sea he
was expected to make such an examination daily. On going into action
he had to see that the chains, etc., for repairing the rigging,
were in their places. He had to keep an eye upon the sailmaker, and
to see that the sails in the sail locker were properly stowed, and
kept dry. He was one of those officers honoured with “all night in.”
He worked on deck at the discharge of his duty, from sunrise to
sunset. He slept at night either in his cabin in the fore cockpit
or in a favoured place upon the lower-deck, where double the usual
swinging space was allowed for his hammock. He had a distinctive
uniform, of blue cloth, with blue lapels and collar, white or blue
trousers, according to taste, and gold anchor-buttons on the coat,
cuffs, and pockets. His hat was the usual glazed, low top-hat, with
a cockade on one side. He wore linen shirts or woollen jerseys just
as he pleased. About his neck hung a thin silver chain, supporting
a silver whistle—the badge of his office. When an officer gave an
order the boatswain sounded the call peculiar to that order, and
shouted the order down the hatchway, while the boatswain’s mates,
his assistants, repeated it, till the ship rang with the noise.
Directly the order had been given, the boatswain and his mates
slipped down the hatchways, and hurried the crew to their duty with
their colts and rattans. A boatswain always carried a cane, the end
of which was waxed and “tip’d with simple twine-thread.” He had the
power to thrash the laggards, and to cut at those who did not haul
with sufficient fervour when the men were at the ropes. “This small
stick of his,” says Edward Ward, “has wonderful virtue in it, and
seems little inferior to the rod of Moses, of miraculous Memory; it
has cured more of the Scurvy than the Doctor, and made many a poor
Cripple take up his Bed, and walk; sometimes it makes the Lame to
skip, and run up the Shrouds like a Monkey.” The boatswain’s cane and
the colts of his mates continued to do execution till after 1815,
when they were gradually laid aside. The privilege of the cane was
very much abused. It encouraged the warrant officer to treat his
subordinates cruelly, and the lives of those subordinates were made
sufficiently miserable as it was.
In action the boatswain was stationed on the forecastle, which he
commanded. At all times the boatswain had to see that clothes,
etc., were not hung up to dry in the rigging. He had to take care
that the ship’s fresh water was not diverted for the washing of the
seamen’s clothes or hammocks. He had to keep the yards square when in
port, and at all times he had orders to prevent ropes or lines from
trailing overboard. Once a day, in fine weather, he was expected to
lower a boat and row round the ship, to see that her outward trim
was satisfactory, and that nothing needed to be repaired. In the
mornings, when the hands were turned up, he had to go below with
his mates to see the berth-deck cleared of hammocks. Laggards and
sluggards who did not turn out, or hurry their hammocks away, were
then enlivened by the colt or the cane. Those whose hammocks were
not lashed up and stowed by eight bells, or 8 A.M., were reported to
the officer of the watch. Their hammocks were taken from them, and
locked up for a month in the boatswain’s store-room. The sluggard
had to pass that month without a hammock as best he could, sleeping
under the guns, or on deck, or in the tops, in considerable misery.
Slighter punishments were meted out to those who did not number their
hammocks so that they could be readily identified. The boatswain took
his meals in his cabin in the fore cockpit. He had a ship’s boy to
wait upon him, or, at least, shared a boy with the carpenter. In a
home port, when the ship was laid up “in ordinary” (_i.e._ not in
commission), the boatswain remained on board, with his mates and
yeomen, and a few other standing officers, to help the dockyard men
in their dismantling or rerigging of the vessel. While “in ordinary”
the boatswain stood watch at night, to prevent desertion, or fire,
etc., and to keep away shore boats bringing contraband (such as
drink) to the men on board. His pay varied from about £4, 16s. a
month in a first-rate to about £3 a month in a sixth-rate. His
assistants—the rope-maker, yeomen, and boatswain’s mates—received
from two guineas to two guineas and a half a month. One of the last
of the boatswain’s privileges or duties was that of “piping the side”
when a captain came aboard. Lastly, he had charge of the boats when
they lay in-board on the booms. One of the boats, either the yawl or
the long boat, was under his care at all times, just as the captain’s
gig or dinghy was always in charge of the coxswain.
[Illustration: A FRIGATE IN CHASE, GOING FREE]
The boatswain’s mates, his immediate subordinates, were chosen from
the very best seamen on board. They were the leaders or drivers
of the crew, and generally the finest men in the fleet. They wore
no uniform, but the pay they received, being £2, 5s. 6d. a month,
enabled them to wear neater clothes than the seamen. They had the
unpleasant duty of flogging misdemeanants at the gangway. They slept
in favoured places on the lower-decks, with rather more space for
their hammocks than was allowed for a seaman. The boatswain’s yeomen,
who kept the boatswain’s stores in order, generally slept in the
wings, near their post on the orlop-deck.
Ranking with the boatswain as a standing or warrant officer, and
drawing exactly the same pay, was the purser—the officer in charge
of the ship’s provisions. A purser, like a boatswain, received his
warrant direct from the Admiralty, but the fore-mast man had no
chance of becoming purser without friends and influence. A purser was
not usually promoted to his post for merit. He was generally a friend
of the captain, one of the captain’s “followers” or servants, going
with him from ship to ship, and feathering his nest very handsomely
from every cruise. A purser could not receive his warrant till he
had served a year or eighteen months as a captain’s clerk, or keeper
of the ship’s books. The captain usually appointed his own clerk,
or at anyrate recommended his own choice for the appointment. He
had therefore considerable power over his purser, and often shared
the plunder that worthy gathered. Before a man could commence duty
as a purser he had to sign a bond, giving “two proper and competent
persons as his securities.” The “penal sum” mentioned in this bond
varied considerably, according to the size of the ship. The purser
of a first-rate had to find securities for £1200; for a third-rate,
£800; and for a sixth-rate, £400. This regulation made it impossible
for a man without influence to obtain a purser’s place. Very often it
led to grave abuses, for it frequently happened that the guarantors
came forward with their securities merely to get the purser into
their clutches. As a purser’s sureties were generally merchants, it
followed that the purser was frequently squeezed into buying their
goods, at their prices, to the prejudice of the poor sailors. In many
cases the purser bought his place as captain’s clerk, by bribing both
the captain and the Admiralty officials to give him the appointment.
When he had qualified himself he bought his warrant as purser in the
same way, trusting to his own dishonesty to recoup himself.
A purser had to see that the ship received her full quantity of
water, spirits, and provisions. He was expected to examine the meat
and bread, to make sure that all was sound, and stowed in sound
casks. He was to have the key of the purser’s store or steward-room,
on the orlop-deck. Twice a day, if the captain gave the order, he
had to open this room, to serve out provisions to the cooks of the
messes, weighing every atom with scrupulous care. The times of
serving out were generally from seven to nine in the morning, and
from six to eight in the evening. To encourage him to be careful and
thrifty he received a bonus on the provisions remaining with him at
the end of a cruise, when the ship was paid off. He also received 10
per cent. on all sums paid to the crew “for savings of provisions.”
He was allowed a certain sum for the waste of casks, sacks, and iron
hoops, but he was expected to pay for all deficiencies in excess
of that sum. He had to provide the ship with “coals, firewood,
turnery-ware, candles, lanterns, etc.,” out of a sum known as
Necessary Money, which the Government allowed to him. He received, in
addition to the Necessary Money, an annual allowance “upon passing
his account”—a sort of Government reward for probity. This reward in
a first-rate ship amounted to £25.
A purser was expected to exert himself to save the public money as
much as he could. Old and bad meat, which had been in salt for a few
years, was often issued to him in new casks, with new marks upon
them. A purser had to see that this old meat was issued before the
new salt meat was broken open. “The purser,” says the regulation,
“is to issue out first such part thereof as he shall have perceived
most liable to decay.” His most important duty was the keeping
of the ship’s muster book, a lengthy folio, in which the name of
every person “belonging to, or borne on the books of, the ship,”
was carefully entered, with some short description of the man, to
enable the runners to trace him if he deserted. The entire crew were
mustered from this book every tenth day while at sea, and immediately
after every action. Any man who was absent without leave for three
successive musters was marked with an R, for run—_i.e._ deserted. A
man so marked lost all the pay due to him. The book marked the date
of all discharges from the service, with the cause of such discharge,
“whether it be death, desertion, or otherwise.” In addition to the
muster book a purser had to keep very careful and minute accounts
of the expenditure of the provisions. If the supplies ran short he
had to superintend the purchase of a fresh stock, if there were no
“instrument of the Victualling Office” at the port where the ship
refitted.
A most important duty allotted to the purser was the keeping of
the slop books. “Slops” were the sailor’s clothes and sea-bedding,
supplied by the naval storekeeper to every ship in commission. The
slops were placed in the slop-room on the orlop-deck in the care of
the purser. Seamen and pressed men who came aboard destitute were
allowed to purchase from the slop-room to the amount of two months’
pay. After this first purchase they were allowed to spend 7s. a month
in slops if they could show that they really needed them. No man
was allowed to buy slops until he had received a written permission
from his lieutenant. Seamen in rags, or in want of bedding, could be
forced to purchase slops, to the amounts just mentioned, so that
no man appeared disreputable as long as the slops held out. As the
gear supplied from the slop-room was of uniform pattern, the crews
of the ships were generally dressed alike. The slops usually carried
were white canvas kit-bags, scarlet marine tunics, blue coats,
waistcoats, and trousers, checkered blue-and-white shirts, black silk
wrappers, Dutch, fur and worsted caps, straw mattresses, blue or
brown blankets, thick woollen stockings, heavy weather trousers, and
the usual seaman’s frocks and shoes. As the shoes usually worn were
low, the slop-room generally contained a supply of silver buckles for
those seamen who liked to be neat. The purser who had charge of the
slops at sea received a shilling in the pound on all sales, from the
contractor who sent the goods to the navy storekeeper. A similar sum
was paid to him on the sales of dead men’s effects, which were sold
publicly by auction on deck directly the man had died. No man was
allowed to bid at these auctions unless he could prove that he was in
real need.
The dishonesty of pursers has long been proverbial. There may have
been honest pursers, but they were in the minority. They were usually
rapacious sharks, who bought their places, and made hay while the sun
shone. Their robberies and knaveries affected the sailors more than
the Government. The sailors had no redress, and the Government system
was so faulty that the frauds were never brought to light. A purser
had many ways of making himself rich at the expense of the poor tar.
At the time of which we write he was probably a less open thief than
his forerunners in peculation—the pursers of Queen Anne and the later
Stuarts—but he was no less clever in turning a dishonest penny. A
very favourite way of making money was the old way of adulterating
the ship’s wine, or giving vinegar in lieu of wine.[20] “He oft-times
turns Water into Wine, and Wine into Water, with one mere Fiat to his
Steward.” Another most lucrative way was that of getting a man “lent”
to another ship, or sent ashore, thereby forfeiting his wages. When a
man had been sent out of a ship in this way the purser neglected to
strike his name off the books. When the ship was paid off the purser
would forge a pay-ticket for the amount due to the poor fellow, and
draw the whole sum. The slops were always sold at more than their
value, so that the amount of the commission might be more handsome.
Slops were also sold to dead men, and charged upon the dead men’s
wages. The purser drew his commission on the sale, and kept the
slops so sold. It was often said that a purser could make a dead man
chew tobacco. He could also make a corpse buy clothes, and drink
his allowance of grog. By restricting the supplies of firewood, and
of the vile tallow dips or candles, a purser was often able to make
something out of his Necessary Money. In those ships in which he was
in league with the captain he found it possible to keep live stock,
such as hogs or cattle, on the oatmeal charged to dead sailors.
A purser’s uniform was exactly the same as that of a boatswain.
Being usually of more gentle breeding than a boatswain, he wore a
three-cornered cocked hat, instead of the glazed, sailor’s top-hat.
He also wore white knee-breeches and white stockings, instead of
trousers. In action, he either retired to his berth below the
water-line, out of danger of the shot, or went to the cockpit to
moisten the lips of the wounded with weak rum-and-water or lime
juice. In some ships he was placed in command of the powder passers,
a line of men engaged in handing cartridge boxes from the magazines
to the gun-deck. In those ships to which the naval storekeepers sent
Bibles and prayer-books it was the duty of the purser to distribute
the books to the ship’s company, under the direction of the chaplain.
After December 1798 the ships were supplied with tobacco by the
Victualling Board. The purser had charge of the tobacco during the
cruise, and received a commission on all he sold, with a small
“allowance for wastage.” He was not allowed to sell more than 2lbs.
of tobacco in the month to any man, nor might he charge more than
1s. 7d. a pound for the commodity. A purser’s steward (the creature
appointed to assist a purser) seems to have received about 35s. a
month for his services, with the privileges of standing no watch and
sleeping on the orlop-deck.
Ranking with the boatswain and purser, as a standing or warrant
officer, was the gunner, the officer appointed to take charge of the
ordnance and ammunition. He was generally appointed after twelve
months’ service as a petty officer, if he could pass a _vivâ voce_
examination in the art of gunnery. His first duty on getting aboard
a ship fitting for the sea was to place the gun carriages at their
respective ports, and to superintend the reeving of the breechings
and side-tackles. He was assisted in this duty by a little gang of
men placed under his orders, and known as the gunner’s mates and
gunner’s crew. When the guns came on board from the storekeeper he
had to examine them, and see them mounted in their carriages. He
had next to examine the magazines, to test them for damp, to clean
them, and to see them hung with felt. He was to prove the locks on
the magazine padlocks, and to make sure that a set of felt or soft
leather slippers was always hanging near the hatch, for use by all
folk entering the magazine. When the ship took aboard her powder it
was his duty to see all lights extinguished throughout the ship, save
the lanterns in the light-rooms which lit the powder-magazines. He
had to lock the magazines when the powder was shipped, and deliver
the keys to the captain. At sea he had to examine the ship’s guns,
and to see that they were ready for action. He had to take care
that each gun was fitted with crows, sponges, etc., and that the
“cheeses,” or nets of gun wads, were ready beside each gun carriage.
He had also to see that the shot racks running down the ship’s
sides along the waterways and round the coamings of all the hatches
were filled with scraped and hammered shot. He had also to prepare a
quantity of “match,” and to keep it ready for use in the match tubs,
and to see that none of it was burnt during the day, and that “two
lengths” of it were kept alight at night over tubs of water. He had
to see the tops supplied with powder and hand-grenades. He had to
keep his canvas grape-shot bags exposed to the sun and wind, so that
the canvas might not moulder. He had to receive the stores issued
for the use of the armourer, and to superintend that official in his
cleaning and scouring of the muskets and small-arms. He had to keep
the gun-tackle blocks well greased, so that they might work easily.
He had to turn his powder barrels end for end from time to time,
to prevent the separation of the nitre from the other ingredients.
He was to fill a supply of cartridges for immediate use. In battle
he was to make use of any lull in the firing to keep this supply
undiminished. Before an action he had to hang up wetted frieze
blankets round the hatchways leading to the magazines. He had also to
go the round of the gun-decks, to make sure that every gun was ready
for action. From time to time, in fine weather, the gunner was to air
his stores, under a marine sentry, on the upper-deck. At all times he
was to examine the guns and their fittings at least once a day, and
to report their condition to the lieutenant. He was also expected
to instruct the “people”—_i.e._ the ship’s company—in gunnery, a
duty which he sometimes neglected. He slept and messed with the
junior midshipmen in the gun-room. He had one servant, or ship’s
boy, allotted to him, to wait upon him, while his store-rooms, etc.,
were kept clean by his mates or crew or “yeomen.” He stood no watch
at night, but worked all day from “turn out” till the setting of the
watch. His uniform was the same as that of the purser and boatswain,
a white-lined blue coat, with blue lapels and cuffs, white kerseymere
breeches or trousers, and gold anchor-buttons on the pocket flaps.
His pay was the same as that given to the boatswain and purser, but
he received in addition a small perquisite, the sum of one shilling
being paid to him for every powder tub returned in good condition
to the storehouse. The pay of his subordinates—the gunner’s mates,
yeomen of the powder-room, and quarter-gunners (_i.e._ men in charge
of four guns each)—varied from about £2, 2s. to £1, 16s. a month.
These lesser dignitaries wore no distinctive uniform, but they had
various little privileges—such as snug corners for their sleeping
quarters on the berth-deck, or in the cable-tiers, etc.
Of greater importance than the gunner and boatswain, and sometimes
drawing more money for his services, was the carpenter, or “wooden
artist.” No man could aspire to be a ship’s carpenter till he had
faithfully served his indentures with a shipwright, and been a voyage
to sea as a carpenter’s mate. To get an appointment a carpenter
had to pass an examination at Shipwrights’ Hall before a quorum of
master-shipwrights. A ship’s carpenter had to know his trade. He
could not get his place by jobbery or influence. On getting aboard a
ship he was expected to examine her with great care and to report any
defective timbers, and to have them removed. He had to keep the pumps
in good order, and the boats ready for launching. He was to go aloft
every day, to examine the state of the masts and yards, particularly
after heavy weather. He was to keep the ventilator rigged whenever
the weather was sufficiently fair. He was to sound the well each
day, and to take care that it never contained more than 15 inches,
and that those 15 inches were frequently changed, lest the water
should putrify. He was to have a variety of shot plugs prepared, of
different sizes and varying material—as lead, oakum, felt, rolled
rope, canvas, etc. In battle he was to walk along the orlop-deck with
his mates to repair any shot holes as they were made. At sunset each
night he had to report to the first lieutenant that his stores, such
as shot, plugs, axes, etc., were ready for action, and that the masts
and spars were in good order. He had to take especial care that the
decks and topsides were kept well caulked, lest water should leak in
and drip from deck to deck, to the misery of all hands. To enable
him to do all these duties properly he was granted an assistant, in
large ships two assistants, known as the carpenter’s mate or mates.
These men received two and a half guineas a month, and slung their
hammocks in favourable places on the lower gun-deck. In addition to
the mates, all ships above the fourth-rate carried an officer called
the caulker, who likewise drew two guineas and a half a month. This
officer was directly under the carpenter, and had standing orders to
search out and caulk all defective seams in the deck and topsides. In
addition to the duties indicated above, a carpenter was always to see
that the port-lids were in good trim. In foul weather it was his duty
to close those on the lower-deck, and to make them watertight with
oakum. While at sea he had the power to discharge, or cause to be
discharged, any caulker or carpenter’s mate not worth his salt. His
subordinates were always stationed on the main-yard in furling sails.
As a rule, they stood no night watch, but were expected to come on
deck for any important duty, such as tacking ship, shortening sail,
sending down spars, etc.
A carpenter’s pay aboard a first-rate ship was £5, 16s. a month.
Aboard a third-rate he drew about £1 a month less. In fourth, fifth,
and sixth rates, he drew exactly the same pay as the boatswain,
gunner, and purser. He slept in his cabin in the fore cockpit, or in
some den in the steerage. He had a boy to wait on him, or shared one
with the boatswain. In fine weather he rigged his carpenter’s shop on
the second or upper gun-deck, in the clear, well-lit space between
the tiers of guns. In foul weather his work was done below, in his
workshop in the fore cockpit.
[Illustration: THE HEAD OF A 74 GUN SHIP, WITH DRAWING OF SPRITSAIL
YARD]
Ranking with the boatswain’s mates, in first and second rates, were
the quarter-masters, the assistants of the master, and master’s
mates. The quartermaster was a petty officer, drawing £2, 5s. 6d. a
month for his services. He was generally an old and trusty seaman,
who was not sufficiently active to be employed as a boatswain’s mate.
His duties were to superintend the helmsman; to assist in the stowage
of provisions or ballast; to coil away the cables in the cable-tiers;
to keep the time, and to cause the ship’s bell to be struck at each
half-hour. When the purser served out provisions in the morning and
evening a quartermaster always attended, to watch the weighing, etc.
He wore no distinctive uniform, but he had the privilege of sleeping
below the berth-deck, in the cable-tiers, on the orlop-deck.
The sailmaker, who drew the same pay as the quartermaster, received
his appointment by warrant from the Navy Office. He was helped by
a mate or assistant, drawing some 7s. a month less money, and by a
“crew” of two men, who were clever with needle and palm. His duty was
to keep the sails in good repair, and in order, so that they could
be readily brought on deck from the sail-room in the orlop or hold.
In fine weather he worked on the second or upper gun-deck, repairing
old sails, putting in patches or new roping, etc. He stood no watch,
and slept in a favoured place, abreast of the fore hatchway on the
lower-deck.
The chief of the ship’s police, the man responsible, under the first
lieutenant, for the preservation of peace and quietness below-decks,
was the master-at-arms. At the end of the eighteenth century he had
lost much of his old authority, and his ancient duty of instructing
the seamen in the use of the musket was usually performed by the
junior lieutenant. A master-at-arms was appointed by a warrant
from the Board of Admiralty. His pay varied from £2, 15s. 6d. in a
first-rate to £2, 0s. 6d. in a sixth-rate. When at sea he sometimes
drilled the sailors in the use of the musket, and had special orders
to see that they took good aim before firing. His chief duty was to
keep a strict lookout for unauthorised lights or fires, extinguishing
all lights and fires at the setting of the watch, and reporting all
those who presumed to re-light them. He had to walk round the ship
at intervals, to make sure that no purser’s glim was burning in any
of the store-rooms, or in the cable-tiers. He had to prevent any
smoking outside the galley, and he had to report any person found
using a naked candle below-decks. These duties were comparatively
harmless. They saved the ship from being burnt, while at no time did
they interfere much with the comfort of the ship’s company. Even the
restriction of the smokers to the narrow space of the galley, where
but few bluejackets could take tobacco at a time, was not reckoned
a hardship. Smoking was not so popular at that time. Comparatively
few men smoked. Nearly all of those who used tobacco chewed it, “like
Christians.” But the master-at-arms made himself very objectionable
in another way. He was the head of the ship’s police, continually on
the lookout for the petty criminal. He passed his days ferreting out
the privy drunkards, the quarrelsome, riotous, gambling, and sportive
persons, so that the captain might punish them at the gangway with
a couple of dozen. When a man or woman came on board from the shore
it was the duty of the master-at-arms to examine him (or her), to
annex any spirits which might be concealed in the person’s clothes.
When a boat came alongside he had to report that she contained no
intoxicants, before her lading was allowed to be hoisted in-board.
Any man found drunk, or fighting, or playing at cards, or dicing,
or using a candle, or otherwise transgressing the iron laws of the
fleet, was promptly arrested by the master-at-arms, and placed in
irons, and chained to an iron bar by the main-mast, till the captain
could judge and sentence him. At evening muster, the master-at-arms
stood in a prominent position, to spy out any man who walked a shade
unsteadily or answered to his name with a thick intonation. He was
armed with a cane, with which he was entitled to deal out punishment
to those whom he suspected of playing the spy upon him. Those who
wanted a little quiet fuddle in between the guns, or wished to play a
game of cards, or to dice each other for their tots of grog, would
send out spies, and post sentinels, to warn them of this officer’s
approach. To checkmate these outposts the master-at-arms encouraged
the meaner sort to act as his “narkers” or informers, to let him know
when, and by whom, and where, unlawful pleasures were being enjoyed.
These police spies, or ship’s traitors, were known as white mice.
They lived uneasy lives aboard a man-of-war. Sometimes the crew fell
upon them privily, and man-handled them. A master-at-arms was not
altogether safe. In the dark night-watches, as he made the round
of the lower-deck, with his lantern in his hand, those whom he had
caused to be flogged would sometimes get revenged.
In all those ships which did not carry marines a master-at-arms was
expected to post the sentinels, and to instruct them in their duty.
He was assisted in his work by two or more satellites, known as
ship’s corporals, who received about two guineas a month a-piece.
One or more of these officers was continually walking about the ship
after the setting of the watch at 8 P.M. They stood their watches,
like the rest of the crew, but they had the privilege of sleeping
near the ship’s side, with rather more space than their shipmates.
In the daytime they pried up and down in search of delinquents, whom
they might thrash with their rattans or drag to the bilboes. They
were appointed to their positions for merit, but he who made the
appointment saw to it that the men promoted to these particular
posts were naturally fitted for them. The job was not popular among
the sailors, for the increase of pay was slight, the responsibility
heavy, and the duty unpleasant.
An important member of the ship’s crew was the cook. This warrant
officer was appointed by the Commissioners of the Navy, who
invariably chose him from the Greenwich pensioners. He was seldom
blessed with all his limbs, and never rose beyond the making of
pea-soup and the boiling of junk. “The composing of a minc’d Pye,”
says Edward Ward, “is metaphysics to him.” He did not cook for the
captain. His art was of the popular kind. Anyone could understand it.
There was nothing intense or mysterious about it. His duty was very
simple. He had to steep the salt junk served out to him in a barrel
of salt water, known as a steep tub. When the meat had become a
little soft and pliable, through the dissolution of the salt, he took
it and boiled it for several hours, or until the boatswain piped to
dinner. It was then served out to the different messes. Directly the
last piece had been handed out the coppers were skimmed. The salt fat
or slush, the cook’s perquisite,[21] was scraped out and placed in
the slush tub. The coppers were then scoured, and made ready for the
cooking of the next meal. A cook was not allowed to give his slush
or melted fat to the men, as they used it in making their private
duffs or puddings, and “scarcely anything more unwholesome, or more
likely to produce the scurvy, can be eaten.” A cook was expected
to be frugal with his firewood, except after a battle, when he had
generally a stack of splinters to eke out his store. He was expected
to keep his galley clean, and usually had a mate or assistant, with
the full complement of limbs, to help him in this work. His pay was
very small, being only about thirty-five shillings a month, but
as he was always a Greenwich pensioner, in receipt of 11s. 8d. a
month relief, and as he generally cleared a handsome sum from his
slush, the pay was sufficient. He wore no uniform, kept no watch,
seldom strayed very far from his galley, and slept at nights on the
lower gun-deck, in a favoured place, with a ship’s corporal for his
neighbour. The marines kept guard at the galley door while he cooked
the dinner, lest the ship’s thieves should privily convey away his
delicacies while his back was turned. He was expected to extinguish
his fire after the meal of the day had been cooked, and at all times
when the ship prepared to go into action. In port he was expected to
keep a poker heated for the firing of salutes, etc. At sea he was
allowed to cook little messes for those of the hands who were his
cronies. In some ships he was also allowed to dry the clothes of
those wetted by the sea in heavy weather. His coppers were examined
every morning, by the mate of the watch, before the “cocoa,” or
“oatmeal,” was put into them.
FOOTNOTES:
[19] We believe that this was not always properly done. We read
of the wounded in one ship being operated upon by a saw from the
carpenter’s stock. A stiff upper lip was very necessary aboard a ship
of that kind.
[20] Money was advanced to the purser for the purchase of wine. He
generally bought weak, or adulterated wine, at a low price, and
pocketed the money saved.
[21] Half of all the slush went to the cook. The other half went to
the ship, for the greasing of the bottom and running rigging.