CHAPTER XLII.
KILLING TIME IN A MAN-OF-WAR IN HARBOUR.
Reading was by no means the only method adopted by my shipmates inwhiling away the long, tedious hours in harbour. In truth, many of themcould not have read, had they wanted to ever so much; in early youththeir primers had been sadly neglected. Still, they had other pursuits;some were experts at the needle, and employed their time in makingelaborate shirts, stitching picturesque eagles, and anchors, and allthe stars of the federated states in the collars thereof; so that whenthey at last completed and put on these shirts, they may be said tohave hoisted the American colors.
Others excelled in _tattooing_ or _pricking_, as it is called in aman-of-war. Of these prickers, two had long been celebrated, in theirway, as consummate masters of the art. Each had a small box full oftools and colouring matter; and they charged so high for theirservices, that at the end of the cruise they were supposed to havecleared upward of four hundred dollars. They would _prick_ you to ordera palm-tree, or an anchor, a crucifix, a lady, a lion, an eagle, oranything else you might want.
The Roman Catholic sailors on board had at least the crucifix prickedon their arms, and for this reason: If they chanced to die in aCatholic land, they would be sure of a decent burial in consecratedground, as the priest would be sure to observe the symbol of MotherChurch on their persons. They would not fare as Protestant sailorsdying in Callao, who are shoved under the sands of St. Lorenzo, asolitary, volcanic island in the harbour, overrun with rep-tiles, theirheretical bodies not being permitted to repose in the more genial loamof Lima.
And many sailors not Catholics were anxious to have the crucifixpainted on them, owing to a curious superstition of theirs. Theyaffirm--some of them--that if you have that mark tattooed upon all fourlimbs, you might fall overboard among seven hundred and seventy-fivethousand white sharks, all dinnerless, and not one of them would somuch as dare to smell at your little finger.
We had one fore-top-man on board, who, during the entire cruise, washaving an endless cable _pricked_ round and round his waist, so that,when his frock was off, he looked like a capstan with a hawser coiledround about it. This fore-top-man paid eighteen pence per link for thecable, besides being on the smart the whole cruise, suffering theeffects of his repeated puncturings; so he paid very dear for his cable.
One other mode of passing time while in port was cleaning and polishingyour _bright-work_; for it must be known that, in men-of-war, everysailor has some brass or steel of one kind or other to keep in highorder--like housemaids, whose business it is to keep well-polished theknobs on the front door railing and the parlour-grates.
Excepting the ring-bolts, eye-bolts, and belaying-pins scattered aboutthe decks, this bright-work, as it is called, is principally about theguns, embracing the "_monkey-tails_" of the carronades, the screws,_prickers_, little irons, and other things.
The portion that fell to my own share I kept in superior order, quiteequal in polish to Rogers's best cutlery. I received the mostextravagant encomiums from the officers; one of whom offered to matchme against any brazier or brass-polisher in her British Majesty's Navy.Indeed, I devoted myself to the work body and soul, and thought nopains too painful, and no labour too laborious, to achieve the highestattainable polish possible for us poor lost sons of Adam to reach.
Upon one occasion, even, when woollen rags were scarce, and noburned-brick was to be had from the ship's Yeoman, I sacrificed thecorners of my woollen shirt, and used some dentrifice I had, assubstitutes for the rags and burned-brick. The dentrifice operateddelightfully, and made the threading of my carronade screw shine andgrin again, like a set of false teeth in an eager heiress-hunter'smouth.
Still another mode of passing time, was arraying yourself in your best"_togs_" and promenading up and down the gun-deck, admiring the shorescenery from the port-holes, which, in an amphitheatrical bay likeRio--belted about by the most varied and charming scenery of hill,dale, moss, meadow, court, castle, tower, grove, vine, vineyard,aqueduct, palace, square, island, fort--is very much like lounginground a circular cosmorama, and ever and anon lazily peeping throughthe glasses here and there. Oh! there is something worth living for,even in our man-of-war world; and one glimpse of a bower of grapes,though a cable's length off, is almost satisfaction for dining off ashank-bone salted down.
This promenading was chiefly patronised by the marines, andparticularly by Colbrook, a remarkably handsome and very gentlemanlycorporal among them. He was a complete lady's man; with fine blackeyes, bright red cheeks, glossy jet whiskers, and a refinedorganisation of the whole man. He used to array himself in hisregimentals, and saunter about like an officer of the ColdstreamGuards, strolling down to his club in St. James's. Every time he passedme, he would heave a sentimental sigh, and hum to himself "_The girl Ileft behind me_." This fine corporal afterward became a representativein the Legislature of the State of New Jersey; for I saw his namereturned about a year after my return home.
But, after all, there was not much room, while in port, forpromenading, at least on the gun-deck, for the whole larboard side iskept clear for the benefit of the officers, who appreciate theadvantages of having a clear stroll fore and aft; and they well knowthat the sailors had much better be crowded together on the other sidethan that the set of their own coat-tails should be impaired bybrushing against their tarry trowsers.
One other way of killing time while in port is playing checkers; thatis, when it is permitted; for it is not every navy captain who willallow such a scandalous proceeding, But, as for Captain Claret, thoughhe _did_ like his glass of Madeira uncommonly well, and was anundoubted descendant from the hero of the Battle of the Brandywine, andthough he sometimes showed a suspiciously flushed face whensuperintending in person the flogging of a sailor for gettingintoxicated against his particular orders, yet I will say for CaptainClaret that, upon the whole, he was rather indulgent to his crew, solong as they were perfectly docile. He allowed them to play checkers asmuch as they pleased. More than once I have known him, when goingforward to the forecastle, pick his way carefully among scores ofcanvas checker-cloths spread upon the deck, so as not to tread upon themen--the checker-men and man-of-war's-men included; but, in a certainsense, they were both one; for, as the sailors used their checker-men,so, at quarters, their officers used these man-of-war's men.
But Captain Claret's leniency in permitting checkers on board his shipmight have arisen from the following little circumstance,confidentially communicated to me. Soon after the ship had sailed fromhome, checkers were prohibited; whereupon the sailors were exasperatedagainst the Captain, and one night, when he was walking round theforecastle, bim! came an iron belaying-pin past his ears; and while hewas dodging that, bim! came another, from the other side; so that, itbeing a very dark night, and nobody to be seen, and it being impossibleto find out the trespassers, he thought it best to get back into hiscabin as soon as possible. Some time after--just as if thebelaying-pins had nothing to do with it--it was indirectly rumouredthat the checker-boards might be brought out again, which--as aphilosophical shipmate observed--showed that Captain Claret was a manof a ready understanding, and could understand a hint as well as anyother man, even when conveyed by several pounds of iron.
Some of the sailors were very precise about their checker-cloths, andeven went so far that they would not let you play with them unless youfirst washed your hands, especially if so be you had just come fromtarring down the rigging.
Another way of beguiling the tedious hours, is to get a cosy seatsomewhere, and fall into as snug a little reverie as you can. Or if aseat is not to be had--which is frequently the case--then get atolerably comfortable _stand-up_ against the bulwarks, and begin tothink about home and bread and butter--always inseparably connected toa wanderer--which will very soon bring delicious tears into your eyes;for every one knows what a luxury is grief, when you can get a privatecloset to enjoy it in, and no Paul Prys intrude. Several of my shorefriends, indeed, when suddenly overwhelmed by some disaster, alwaysmake
a point of flying to the first oyster-cellar, and shuttingthemselves up in a box with nothing but a plate of stewed oysters, somecrackers, the castor, and a decanter of old port.
Still another way of killing time in harbour, is to lean over thebulwarks, and speculate upon where, under the sun, you are going to bethat day next year, which is a subject full of interest to every livingsoul; so much so, that there is a particular day of a particular monthof the year, which, from my earliest recollections, I have always keptthe run of, so that I can even now tell just where I was on thatidentical day of every year past since I was twelve years old. And,when I am all alone, to run over this almanac in my mind is almost asentertaining as to read your own diary, and far more interesting thanto peruse a table of logarithms on a rainy afternoon. I always keep theanniversary of that day with lamb and peas, and a pint of sherry, forit comes in Spring. But when it came round in the Neversink, I couldget neither lamb, peas, nor sherry.
But perhaps the best way to drive the hours before you four-in-hand, isto select a soft plank on the gun-deck, and go to sleep. A finespecific, which seldom fails, unless, to be sure, you have beensleeping all the twenty-four hours beforehand.
Whenever employed in killing time in harbour, I have lifted myself upon my elbow and looked around me, and seen so many of my shipmates allemployed at the same common business; all under lock and key; allhopeless prisoners like myself; all under martial law; all dieting onsalt beef and biscuit; all in one uniform; all yawning, gaping, andstretching in concert, it was then that I used to feel a certain loveand affection for them, grounded, doubtless, on a fellow-feeling.
And though, in a previous part of this narrative, I have mentioned thatI used to hold myself somewhat aloof from the mass of seamen on boardthe Neversink; and though this was true, and my real acquaintances werecomparatively few, and my intimates still fewer, yet, to tell thetruth, it is quite impossible to live so long with five hundred of yourfellow-beings, even if not of the best families in the land, and withmorals that would not be spoiled by further cultivation; it is quiteimpossible, I say, to live with five hundred of your fellow-beings, bethey who they may, without feeling a common sympathy with them at thetime, and ever after cherishing some sort of interest in their welfare.
The truth of this was curiously corroborated by a rather equivocalacquaintance of mine, who, among the men, went by the name of"_Shakings_." He belonged to the fore-hold, whence, of a dark night, hewould sometimes emerge to chat with the sailors on deck. I never likedthe man's looks; I protest it was a mere accident that gave me thehonour of his acquaintance, and generally I did my best to avoid him,when he would come skulking, like a jail-bird, out of his den into theliberal, open air of the sky. Nevertheless, the anecdote this _holder_told me is well worth preserving, more especially the extraordinaryfrankness evinced in his narrating such a thing to a comparativestranger.
The substance of his story was as follows: Shakings, it seems, had oncebeen a convict in the New York State's Prison at Sing Sing, where hehad been for years confined for a crime, which he gave me his solemnword of honour he was wholly innocent of. He told me that, after histerm had expired, and he went out into the world again, he never couldstumble upon any of his old Sing Sing associates without dropping intoa public house and talking over old times. And when fortune would gohard with him, and he felt out of sorts, and incensed at matters andthings in general, he told me that, at such time, he almost wished hewas back again in Sing Sing, where he was relieved from all anxietiesabout what he should eat and drink, and was supported, like thePresident of the United States and Prince Albert, at the public charge.He used to have such a snug little cell, he said, all to himself, andnever felt afraid of house-breakers, for the walls were uncommonlythick, and his door was securely bolted for him, and a watchman was allthe time walking up and down in the passage, while he himself was fastasleep and dreaming. To this, in substance, the _holder_ added, that henarrated this anecdote because he thought it applicable to aman-of-war, which he scandalously asserted to be a sort of State Prisonafloat.
Concerning the curious disposition to fraternise and be sociable, whichthis Shakings mentioned as characteristic of the convicts liberatedfrom his old homestead at Sing Sing, it may well be asked, whether itmay not prove to be some feeling, somehow akin to the reminiscentimpulses which influenced them, that shall hereafter fraternallyreunite all us mortals, when we shall have exchanged this State'sPrison man-of-war world of ours for another and a better.
From the foregoing account of the great difficulty we had in killingtime while in port, it must not be inferred that on board of theNeversink in Rio there was literally no work to be done, at longintervals the _launch_ would come alongside with water-casks, to beemptied into iron tanks in the hold. In this way nearly fifty thousandgallons, as chronicled in the books of the master's mate, were decantedinto the ship's bowels--a ninety day's allowance. With this huge LakeOntario in us, the mighty Neversink might be said to resemble theunited continent of the Eastern Hemisphere--floating in a vast oceanherself, and having a Mediterranean floating in her.