Soldiers and Sailors / or, Anecdotes, Details, and Recollections of Naval and Military Life, as Related to His Nephews, by an Old Officer.

CHAPTER VIII.

The passionate soldier.—A blue-jacket paying his debts.—A monkey on board.—A ship.—Keel.—Decks.—Masts.—Sails.—Rigging.—Life-boat.—Cables.—Anchors.—Capstan.—Buoys.—Blocks.—Knotting.—Quadrant.—The Indian and his fine clothes.—His return home.—His relation of his adventures.—The indignation of his tribe.—His tragical end.

“I will now say a little about a ship, without dwelling long on the subject. It must be, touch and go, aloft and below, for young people must learn to be sometimes satisfied with little.”

“The more you tell us the better; we like a long account much better than a short one. Tell us all that you can think of about a ship and about sailors too.”

“No, that will not suit me just now; my account must be short. Sailors are sometimes hard to manage; and it becomes necessary to be quick in finding out when any ill-will is spreading among them, for it might lead on to a mutiny. Soldiers and sailors should be obedient as well as brave—a red-coat should never be found in the black hole, nor a blue-jacket show a white feather in the hour of danger.”

“A mutiny is a sad thing among sailors or soldiers.”

“It is; but I think sailors can be managed more easily than soldiers, because they usually go to sea early; whereas soldiers are often men before they enlist, with all the strength of their passions about them. A French newspaper says—‘There is a private in the first regiment of cuirassiers in the French service, whom nothing can withstand when he becomes enraged; in that state he breaks iron like so much glass, and makes a plaything of a horse, as if it were a child’s toy. In July last, his lieutenant, having directed him to take charge of the fresh horses, Memuel complained of partiality, and was placed under arrest for four days. He went quietly to prison; but the door had been scarcely locked upon him before he fairly shivered it open without drawing the bolts back, and got away. He was then thrown into the regimental prison; from this he speedily broke loose, destroying all the camp bedsteads, snapping the window-bars asunder, and scattering the walls and doors in every direction. After this second release from ‘durance vile’ he was next incarcerated in a dungeon; but he had crippled his hands and fingers so much by his last exploit as to be disabled from active service—in the matter at least of any fresh escapade.”

“Terrible! terrible! You never heard of such a sad fellow as that among sailors, did you?”

“I can hardly tell at the moment. Fall in with the humour of sailors, and they are a good-tempered, honest-hearted set of fellows. A true-hearted sailor loves his country, never forsakes a messmate in danger or trouble, and would rather snap his cable than break his word. I will tell you a laughable account that I have just read about a sailor paying his debts. The account is this:—‘I ought to add, for the honour of Jack, that the bumboat-women, landladies, and all others who had trusted him, were duly remunerated before the remainder of his money was spent. Many of these creditors had come round from Chatham for this purpose. I believe there was but one exception to their being all honestly and liberally paid. There was one fellow who made an objection to his account in rather a Joe Miller sort of style. I am not sure whether Joe was before him, but he certainly stuck to his point with the gravity of an original: this was a Dutchman, who had entered for our service. Having built rather largely upon his anticipated pay, he had made his visits to the bumboat-woman rather often; so that, besides the score for loaves of bread, red-herrings, sausages, and pounds of sugar, there appeared upon his account a considerable number of dittos. Now, he acknowledged to all the above-named articles, and paid for them fairly, but he declared most forcibly that he had never had any dittos, nor could he be brought to understand what the word meant by all the logic of the bumboat-woman, or those who advocated her cause.’”

“Poor Jack did not know what ditto meant.”

“Well, now let us go on board ship together. I will tell you something that will a little surprise you.”

“What is it? what is it?”

“It is the opinion of an officer, as brave and as well-informed as any in the British navy, that it is an excellent thing to have on board ship a monkey.”

“A monkey! Why, he would be so full of his antics as to set the blue-jackets laughing at him; and then, he would be always in mischief.”

“For these very reasons Captain Hall recommends that Mr. Pug should be received as one of the crew. He well knows the advantage of light hearts and good humour on board ship, and thinks that few things are more likely to afford mirth to the blue-jackets than the comical tricks of a monkey! If Mr. Pug cannot be taught to weigh anchor, reef a sail, or pull a rope, he can grin and chatter at those who do these things, and thereby keep them in a good temper.”

“Very good, Mr. Pug; and now, while you run up the ropes we shall, perhaps, hear something more about ships.”

“I have a few pictures of ships, which I will show you. See! here is a ship in the time of King Alfred.”

“Is that a ship? Why, there seems to be no room for the sailors.”

“You must remember, that in the time of Alfred, Jack-tars were not so plentiful as they are now. But, perhaps, a ship in the reign of William the Conqueror will please you better. What do you think of this? It has, you see, a kind of house, or tower, upon it. This would prevent the men on board from being so much exposed as in the other ship: a thing of no trifling importance in a time of warfare. A well-built and well manned British ship of war, such as carries an admiral’s flag now, would, no doubt, destroy a whole fleet of the ships of olden time. Half-a-dozen broadsides would send as many ships of William the Conqueror’s days to the bottom. But what do you think of this ship?”

“Why, that is very little better than the other. It has but one mast and one sail, and nothing like a sailor is to be seen.”

“Come, I must try again, it seems. Here is a ship in the time of Henry III. Will that suit you? You cannot say that has but one mast. The shrouds, too, that hold the masts steady, are here fastened to the sides of the vessel. It was not so before. This method of steadying the masts is a decided improvement, you must admit, though the vessel is still far from being perfect.”

“Yes, there is no doubt of its being an improvement, to say nothing of the flags flying at the top; but such a vessel would not do at the present time. It has two masts certainly, but it is but an odd-looking ship, after all. What is the next picture you have, uncle?”

“It is a ship of the reign of Edward IV. Ships then had four masts, with a sail to each of them, as well as a forecastle at the head, and a cabin at the stern. Like all other things of importance, ships have been brought to perfection by degrees. Whether I am right in supposing a British man-of-war to be perfect, even now, is a question.”

“Ay! this is much grander than the others,—but every man on the deck has a long spear in his hand. That is not very sailor-like, is it?”

“Why no, it is not boys; at least, not like the sailors of the present day. This ship of the reign of Henry VIII. will please you.”

“That is something like! Plenty of masts, and sails, and cannon too, in that ship; and what a height the hull runs up! Please to tell us something about a first-rate man-of-war, such as are now in the British navy?”

“Now then for a man-of-war. If you are ready for a dive, we will go under water together. We will begin at the false keel; this is made fast under the keel to preserve it from injury in case of a run upon the rocks. On the keel is the keelson to strengthen it. The timbers that start out right and left from the keel are the ribs, and the planking is fastened to them inside and out. You know the head from the stern, I dare say.

A bold British sailor his duty should learn,
And know every rope from the head to the stern;
His heart should be firm when the rude billows roll,
And as true as the needle that points to the pole.”

“Ay! that is a good description of a sailor; he should know his duty, and carry a true heart in his bosom.”

“To say nothing of the forecastle and quarter-decks, a first-rate has three whole decks. Under the lower gun-deck is the orlop-deck, where you will find the store-rooms of the carpenter, the gunner, the boatswain, the surgeon, and the purser, as well as the cockpit, which is near the after-hatchway. Over the lower gun-deck is the middle deck, and over that the upper or main-deck. Above these are the forecastle and quarter-deck.”

“A first-rate, then, has three decks, besides the forecastle and quarter-deck and orlop-decks; and how many masts?”

“To carry the yards, sails and rigging, there are three masts, and each has three parts, so that we have the main-mast, the main-top mast, and the main-top-gallant mast; the fore-mast, the fore-top mast, and the fore-top-gallant mast; the mizen-mast, the mizen-top mast, and the mizen-top-gallant mast. Besides these, there is sometimes a small mast, still higher up, called the royal; so that there are main-top-gallant royal, fore-top-gallant royal, and mizen-top-gallant royal masts; the bowsprit runs out over the head of the ship: it may be called a mast or a boom. In books sailors are often named after the different parts of a ship; and thus we have ‘Tom Starboards,’ ‘Ben Braces,’ and ‘Mat Mizens,’ in abundance. No doubt you have heard the following words sung:—

“Here, a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling,
The darling of our crew;
No more he’ll hear the tempest howling,
For death has broached him to.
His form was of the manliest beauty,
His heart was kind and soft,
Faithful, below he did his duty,
And now he’s gone aloft.”

“Yes! yes! Tom Bowling is a favourite song. Now tell us about the sails of a ship.”

“The principal sails are, the courses, or lower sails; the top-sails, the top-gallant sails, and the top-gallant-royal sails. When there is a sail higher than these it is called a sky-scraper. You know, I dare say, that the rope part of a ship is called the rigging, but if you know the names of half the ropes, blocks, and tackling, you are wiser than I take you to be. The lower rigging of a ship consists of the shrouds, and the stays, that keep the lower masts in their places; the standing rigging is fixed, and the running rigging moves in altering the sails and the yards.

“What a pity that a ship should ever be wrecked.”

“A pity indeed; and a capital thing it is, when a wreck does take place, if a life-boat is at hand. A life-boat is so constructed that it will live among breakers that would swamp a common ship’s boat directly. Many a brave red-coat and blue-jacket has been saved by the life-boat.

“The life-boat! the life-boat! The whirlwind and rain,
And white-crested breakers oppose her in vain!
Her crew are resolved, and her timbers are staunch—
The vessel of mercy—God-speed to her launch!
The life-boat! the life-boat! how fearless and free
She wins her bold course o’er the wide-rolling sea!
She bounds o’er the surges with gallant disdain;
She has stemm’d them before, and she’ll stem them again.”

“The life-boat must be a capital thing.”

“It is; but every vessel that sails on the seas is adapted to the service which it is to perform: the man-of-war, the frigate and the privateer are to carry, in their capacious hulls, the lightning and thunder of war; the smaller craft, such as cutters, schooners, and gun-boats, are to attend on fleets and supply the wants of larger vessels; and the life-boat is to rescue from destruction the shipwrecked crew and drowning mariner.”

“Why is it that the anchor does not keep the ship from being blown on the rocks, and wrecked?”

“Because anchors and cables are, like everything else, apt to break when tried beyond their strength. Now and then, when the wind blows hard, you find that the string of your kite breaks, and so it is with a cable; thick and strong as it is, it often snaps like a kite-string, when the storm is abroad in its strength,—man makes the cable, but God makes the storm; no wonder that the latter should be the stronger.”

“How thick is a cable? and how heavy is an anchor?”

“A good sheet-anchor-cable is a hundred and twenty fathoms, or two hundred and forty yards long. It is twenty inches round it, at least, and weighs five or six tons. It is made of almost two thousand threads, or rope-yarns.”

“One would think nothing could break it! And how heavy is the anchor?”

“There are different sorts of anchors: bower-anchors, stream-anchors, and kedge-anchors; and they are of different weights; but a best bower-anchor, or, we will call it a sheet-anchor, weighs between four and five tons. It costs as much as four hundred pounds.”

“What a weight, and what a deal of money! It must be hard work to pull it up from the bottom of the sea.”

“It is hard work; but a blue-jacket does not go to sea to blow his fingers; whatever may be the duty required to be done, Jack is ready to do it. The anchor is heaved in by means of the capstan, a very strong massy column of timber, having square holes to receive levers or bars, to turn it round. It is let down perpendicularly through the decks of the ship, and so placed that the men, by turning it round, may perform any labour requiring great strength.”

“When a ship lets down her anchor, there is often a buoy attached to it, that its situation may be known. If this were not done a ship would often entangle her cable by coming too near it. There are many kinds of buoys.”

“The blocks about a ship, for the management of the rigging, are very numerous. I can only show you a drawing of a few of them.”

“All kinds of knotting are also required. But there would be, absolutely, no end to things of this sort if I were to attempt to describe them. There is a very useful instrument on board ship besides the compass, and that is a quadrant, a mathematical instrument used in navigation to take latitudes. The altitude of the sun and stars is ascertained by it, as well as the height and distance of other objects.”

“What a deal must be known on board ship!”

“Much knowledge is required to make a complete seaman,—but more on this subject another time. Before I leave you I will relate a singular anecdote of an Indian, which I read in the newspapers; it falls in very well with the subject of soldiers and sailors.”

“Let us have it directly.”

“In order to assist the officers of the Indian department in their arduous duty of persuading remote tribes to quit their lands, it has been found advisable to incur the expense of inviting one or two of their chiefs three thousand or four thousand miles, to Washington, in order that they should see with their own eyes, and report to their tribes, the irresistible power of the nation with whom they are arguing. This speculation has, it is said, in all instances, more or less effected its object. For the reasons and for the object we have stated, it was deemed advisable that a certain chief should be invited from his remote country to Washington; and, accordingly, in due time, he appeared there. After the troops had been made to manoeuvre before him; after thundering volleys of artillery had almost deafened him; and after every department had displayed to him all that was likely to add to the terror and astonishment he had already experienced, the President, in lieu of the Indian’s clothes, presented him with a colonel’s uniform; in which, and with many other presents, the bewildered chief took his departure. In a pair of white kid gloves, tight blue coat, with gilt buttons, gold epaulettes, and red sash, cloth trowsers with straps, high-heeled boots, cocked hat, and scarlet feather, with a cigar in his mouth, a green umbrella in one hand, and a yellow fan in the other, and with the neck of a whiskey-bottle protruding out of each of the two tail pockets of his regimental coat, this ‘monkey that had seen the world’ suddenly appeared before the chiefs and warriors of his tribe; and as he stood before them, straight as a ramrod, in a high state of perspiration, caused by the tightness of his finery, while the cool fresh air of heaven blew over the naked unrestrained limbs of his spectators, it might, perhaps, not unjustly, be said of the costumes, ‘Which is the savage?’ In return for the presents he had received, and with a desire to impart as much real information as possible to his tribe, the poor jaded traveller undertook to deliver to them a course of lectures; in which he graphically described all that he had witnessed. For a while he was listened to with attention; but as soon as the minds of his audience had received as much as they could hold, they began to disbelieve him. Nothing daunted, however, the traveller still proceeded. He told them about wigwams, in which a thousand people could at one time pray to the Great Spirit; of other wigwams, five stories high, built in lines, facing each other, and extending over an enormous space; he told them of war canoes that would hold twelve hundred warriors. Such tales to the Indian mind seemed an insult to common sense. For some time he was treated merely with ridicule and contempt,—but when resolutely continuing to recount his adventures, he told them that he had seen white people who, by attaching a great ball to a canoe, could rise in it into the clouds, and travel through the heavens. The Medicine, Mystery, or learned men of his tribe, pronounced him to be an impostor; and the multitude vociferously declaring that he was too great a liar to live, a young warrior, in a paroxysm of anger, levelled a rifle at his head, and blew his brains out. A portrait of this Indian is now to be seen in Mr. Catlin’s gallery of pictures in London.”

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