Pike & Cutlass Part 11

One Jacky, who thought himself wiser than his fellows, in order to escape his next dozen, had a picture of a crucifix tattooed over the whole surface of his back, and under it a legend, which intimated that blows upon the image would be a sacrilege. When next he was brought before the mast he showed it to the boatswain and his captain. The captain, a crusty barnacle of the old harsh school, smiled grimly.

"Don't desecrate the picture, bos'n," he said; "we will respect this man's religious scruples. You may put on his s.h.i.+rt," he said, chuckling to himself, "but remove his trousers, bos'n, and give him a dozen extra.

And lay them on religiously, bos'n."

All this was in the older days, and it was never so bad in the American as in the English navy. The middle period of the American navy, from before the Civil War to the age of iron and steel cruisers, presents an entirely different aspect in some ways.

Illegal punishments were still inflicted, for there were always then, as now, a certain percentage of ruffians forward who were amenable to no discipline, and could be managed only by meeting them with their own weapons. The "spread-eagle" and the ride on the "gray mare" were still resorted to to compel obedience.

They "spread-eagled" a man by tricing him up inside the rigging, taut lines holding his arms and legs outstretched to the farthest shrouds, a bight of rope pa.s.sed around his body preventing too great a strain. He was gagged, and so he could not answer back.

The "gray mare" on which the obstreperous were forced to gallop was the spanker-boom--the long spar that extends far over the water at the s.h.i.+p's stern. By casting loose the sheets, the boom rolled briskly from side to side, and the lonely horseman was forced in this perilous position to hold himself by digging his nails into the soft wood or swinging to any of the gear that flew into his reach. At best it was not a safe saddle, and a rough sea made it worse than a bucking broncho.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SMOKING HOUR]

Paul Jones had a neat way of disciplining his mids.h.i.+pmen aloft. He would go to the rail himself, and casting loose the halyards, let the yard go down with a run, to the young gentleman's great discomfiture.

But the life of the old salt was not all bitterness. It was not all sh.o.r.e-leave, but there was skittles now and then for the deserving and good-conduct men. Jack's pleasures were simple, as they are to-day. There was never a crew that did not have its merry chanter and its flute, fiddle, or guitar, or the twice-told tale of the s.h.i.+p's Methuselah to entertain the dog-watches of the evening or the smoking-hour and make a break in the dreary monotony of routine.

On public holidays, when everything was snug at sea or in port, a glorious skylark was the order of the afternoon. At the call of the bos'n's mate, "All hands frolic," rigorous discipline was suspended, and the men turned to with a will to make the day one to be talked about. Mast-head-races, potato- and sack-races, climbing the greased pole, and rough horse-play and man-handling filled the afternoon until hammocks were piped down and the watch was set. Purses from the wardroom and prizes of rum and tobacco--luxuries dear to Jack's heart--were the incentives to vigorous athletics and rough buffoonery. The rigging was filled from netting to top with the rough, jesting figures, and cheer upon cheer and laugh upon laugh greeted a successful bout or fortunate sally.

Jack is a child at the best of times and at the worst, and he takes his pleasures with the zest of a boy of seven, laughing and making merry until he falls to the deck from very weariness. And woe be at these merry times to the s.h.i.+pmate who has no sense of humor. His day is a hideous one, for he is hazed and bullied until he is forced in self-defence to seek the seclusion granted by the nethermost part of the hold. A practical joker always, when discipline is lax, Jack's boisterous humor knows no restraint.

The ceremony of "crossing the line," the boarding of the s.h.i.+p by Neptune and his court, seems almost as old as s.h.i.+ps, and is honored even to-day, when much of the romantic seems to have pa.s.sed out of sea-life. It is the time when the deep-sea sailor has the better of his cousin of the coasts.

Every man who crossed the equator for the first time had to pay due honor to the G.o.d of the seas. They exacted it, too, among the whalers when they crossed the Arctic Circle.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NEPTUNE COMES ABOARD]

The wardroom usually bought off in rum, money, or tobacco, but forward it was the roughest kind of rough man-handling; and the victims were happy indeed when they got their deep-water credentials. The details of procedure in this remarkable rite differed somewhat on different s.h.i.+ps, but the essential elements of play and torture were the same in all cases.

The day before the line was to be reached both wardroom and forecastle would receive a manifesto setting forth the intention of the G.o.d of the seas to honor their poor craft and ordering all those who had not paid tribute to him to gather forward to greet him as he came over the side. At the hour appointed there was a commotion forward, and a figure, wearing a pasteboard crown that surmounted a genial red face adorned with oak.u.m whiskers, made its appearance over the windward nettings and proclaimed its ident.i.ty as Neptune. Behind him was a motley crew in costumes of any kind and all kinds--or no kind--who had girded itself for this ungentle art of bull-baiting. The deep-water men intended to have an ample return for what they themselves had suffered, not many years back, when they had rounded the Horn or Cape of Good Hope.

The unfortunates, stripped to the waist, were brought forward, one by one, to be put through their paces. After a mock trial by the jury of buffoons, the king ordered their punishment meted out in doses proportioned directly to the popularity of the victims as s.h.i.+pmates. The old long boat, with thwarts removed and a canvas lining, served as a ducking-pond. After vigorous applications, of "slush,"--which is another name for s.h.i.+p's grease,--or perhaps a toss in a hammock or a blanket, they were pitched backward into the pool and given a thorough sousing, emerging somewhat the worse for wear, but happy that the business was finally done for good and all.

To-day the roughest sort of bullying no longer takes place, and much of the romance seems to have pa.s.sed out of the custom.

The punishments, too, have lost their severity. The "gray mare" swings to an empty saddle, the "spread eagle" is a thing of the past, and the "cat"

is looked upon as a relic of barbarism. Things are not yet Pinafore-like, but the cursing and man-handling are not what they used to be. There are a few of the old-timers who still believe the "cat" a necessary evil, and would like to see an occasional "spread eagle," but the more moderate punishments of to-day have proved, save in a few hardened cases, that much may be done if the morale of the service is high.

The fact of the matter is, that the standard of the man behind the gun has kept up with the marvellous advance of the s.h.i.+ps and the ordnance. To-day, the naval service of the United States is worthy of any seaman's metal. As a mode of living, sea-faring on American men-of-war attracts as many good men as any other trade. Machinists, electricians, carpenters, gunners, and sail-makers, all have the chance of a good living, with prizes for the honest and industrious.

The seaman himself, in times of peace, may rise by faithful service to a competency and a retiring pension more generous than that of any other nation in the world. The discipline is the discipline of right relations between superior and inferior men of sense, and the articles of war govern as rigorously the cabin as the forecastle. Republican principles are carried out, as far as they are compatible with perfect subordination, and there exists no feeling between the parts of the s.h.i.+p, except in extraordinary instances, but wholesome respect and convention. There is little tyranny on the one side or insubordination on the other.

The training of the young officer of the old navy was the training of the larger school of the world. "Least squares" and "ballistics" were not for him. He could muster a watch, bend and set a stun'sail, work out a traverse, and pa.s.s a weather-earing; but he toyed not with the higher mathematics, like the machine-made "young gentleman" of to-day. What he knew of navigation he had picked haphazard, as best he might.

At the age of twelve his career usually opened briskly in the thunder of a hurricane or the slaughter of a battle, under conditions trying to the souls of bronzed, bearded men. Physical and even mental training of a certain kind he had, but the intellectual development of modern days was missing. The American officer of the days before the Naval Academy was founded was the result of rough conditions that Nature shaped to her own ends with the only tools she had. Though these "boys" had not the beautiful theory of the thing, they had its practice, and no better seamen ever lived.

At the beginning of the century, the crusty Preble, commodore of the blockading fleet before Tripoli, was sent a consignment of these "boys"

to aid him in his work. The names of the "boys" were Decatur, Stewart, Macdonough, Lawrence, and Perry. Excepting Decatur, who was twenty-six, there was not one who was over twenty-four, and two or three of them were under twenty. The commodore grew red in the face and swore mighty oaths when he thought of the things he had to accomplish with the youngsters under his command. But he found before long that though youth might be inconvenient, it could not be considered as a reproach in their case.

Decatur, with a volunteer crew, went under the guns at Tripoli, captured and blew up the "Philadelphia" in a way that paled all deeds of gallantry done before or since. The dreamy Somers went in with a fire-s.h.i.+p and destroyed both the s.h.i.+pping and himself. In the hand-to-hand fights on the gunboats, Lawrence, young Bainbridge, Stewart, and the others fought and defeated the best hand-to-hand fighters of the Mediterranean. The Dey of Algiers, when Decatur came before him to make terms of peace, stroked his black beard and looked at the young hero curiously. "Why," he said, "do they send over these young boys to treat with the older Powers?"

When the war was over, Preble no longer grew red in the face or swore. He loved his school-boys, and walked his quarter-deck with them arm-in-arm.

And they loved him for his very crustiness, for they knew that back of it all was a man.

These youthful heroes were not the only ones. Young Farragut, an infant of twelve years, with an old "Shoot-if-you're-lucky," quelled a promising mutiny. At eighteen Bainbridge did the same. Farragut, at thirteen, was recommended for promotion to a lieutenancy he was too young to take. Perry was about thirty when he won the victory of Erie.

A youngster's character bears a certain definite relation to the times he lives in. Skies blue and breezes light, he shapes his life's course with no cares but the betterment of his mental condition. Baffling winds create the sailor, and storm and stress bring out his greater capabilities.

The Spanish war has proved that heroes only slumber, and that the young gentleman with the finely-tempered mind of an Annapolis training is capable of the great things his father did.

The blue-jacket of to-day has plenty of hard work to do, but he is as comfortable as good food and sleeping accommodations, regular habits, and good government can make him. As a cla.s.s, the United States Jacky is more contented, perhaps, than any other man of similar conditions. Unlike the soldier, he does not even have to rough it very much, for wherever he goes he takes his house with him.

Jacky sleeps in a hammock strung upon hooks to the beams of the deck above him. When he turns out, he lashes his hammock with its las.h.i.+ng, and stores it in the nettings,--the troughs for the purpose at the sides of the s.h.i.+p,--where it must stay until night. If Jack wants to sleep in the meanwhile, he chooses the softest spot he can find on a steel-clad deck; and he can sleep there, too, in the broad glare of daylight, a hundred feet pa.s.sing him, and the usual run of s.h.i.+p's calls and noises droning in his ears.

Jacky's food is provided by the government, while his superior of the wardroom has to pay his own mess-bill. He is allowed, in addition to his pay, the sum of nine dollars per month, and this must purchase everything, except such luxuries as he may choose to buy from his pay. The s.h.i.+p's paymaster is allowed a certain amount of money to furnish the supplies, and between him and the s.h.i.+p's cook the problem is settled. At the end of the month, if the amount served out is in excess of the computation for rations, the brunt falls upon the "Jack-of-the-Dust,"--the a.s.sistant to the paymaster's yeoman,--who has the work of accurately measuring the rations which are given to the cook of the s.h.i.+p.

The s.h.i.+p's cook receives from the government from twenty-five to thirty-five dollars a month, according to the size of the s.h.i.+p, and, in addition, certain money perquisites from the different messes, which gives him a fair average. He has complete charge of the s.h.i.+p's galley and the cooks of the messes, and must be able to concoct a dainty French dish for the wardroom as well as the usual "salt horse" or "dog" for the Jacky.

"Salt horse" is the sea-name for pork. "Dog" is soaked hardtack, mixed with mola.s.ses and fried; and, though it is not pleasant twenty-nine days out of the month, it is healthful, and tastes good to a hard-working sailor with the salt of the sea producing a splendid appet.i.te.

The mess-tables hang by iron supports to the beams of the deck above, and when the mess has been served and eaten,--as only Jack knows how to eat,--they are triced up into their places, and all is cleaned and made s.h.i.+p-shape in the twinkling of an eye. A half-hour is allowed for dinner, and this time is kept sacred for Jack's use. A red pennant flies from the yard-arm, that all may know that the sailor-man is eating and must not be disturbed by any importunate or curious callers.

In the dog-watches of the evening, after supper, from six to eight P.M., the blue-jacket is given his leisure. It is then that pipes are smoked, vigilance relaxed, boxing and wrestling bouts are in order, and Jacky settles down for his rest after the day of labor. From somewhere down on the gun-deck comes the tinkle of a guitar or banjo, and a tuneful, manly voice sings the songs of France or Spain, and, better still, of beloved America, for the s.h.i.+pmates.

The sailor of to-day is also a soldier. Back in the days of Henry the Eighth, when England first had a navy, the sailors only worked the s.h.i.+ps.

The fighting was done by the soldiers. Later, when the s.h.i.+ps were armed with many guns and carried a greater spread of canvas, there was no s.p.a.ce for great companies of soldiers, and the sailors became gunners as well.

A few soldiers there were, but these did only sentry duty and performed the duties of the s.h.i.+ps's police. As such they were cordially hated by the jackies.

This antipathy has come down through the ages to the present day, and marines are still looked on by the sailor-men as land-lubbers and Johnnies--sea-people who have no mission upon the earth save to do all the eating and very little of the rough work.

The new navy has done much to change this feeling. The mission of the marine is now a definite one. Always used as a sharpshooter, he now mans the rapid-fire batteries, and even guns of a larger caliber. He has done his work well, and the affair at Guantanamo has caused the sneer to fade from the lip of the American sailor-man. Two of the ablest captains of our navy, always the deadliest opponents of the marine corps, upon a.s.suming their latest commands, applied immediately for the largest complement of marines that they could get.

Any s.h.i.+p, old or new, is as frail as the crew that mans it. The strength of any vessel varies directly with its discipline and personnel. Hull, Jones, Decatur, Bainbridge, and Stewart, in the old days, knew with some accuracy the forces they had to reckon with. Their guns were of simple contrivance, and their men knew them as well as they knew how to reef a topsail or smartly pa.s.s a weather-earing. They feared nothing so long as they were confident of their captain. New and mysterious contrivances for death-dealing were unknown to them, and hence the morale of the old sea-battles was the morale only of strength and discipline. There were no uncertain factors to reckon with, save the weight of metal and the comparative training of the gun-crews.

To-day the unknown plays a large part in warfare. Intricate appliances, mysterious inventions, new types of torpedo-boats, and submarine vessels form a new element to contend against and have a personal moral influence upon the discipline of crews. To combat this new element of the unknown and uncertain has required sailors and men of a different stripe from the old. Where, in the old days, ignorance and all its accompanying evils held sway over the mind of poor Jack, and made him a prey to superst.i.tion and imagination, to-day, by dint of careful training of brain as well as body, he has become a thinking creature of power and force of mind. He knows in a general way the working of the great mechanical contrivances; and in the fights that are to come, as well as those that have been, he will show that the metal the American Jacky is made of rings true and stands well the trial by fire.

THE OLD s.h.i.+PS AND THE NEW

With much hitching of trousers and s.h.i.+fting of quid, the old longsh.o.r.eman will tell you that sea-life isn't at all what it once was.

He will gaze out to sea, where the great iron machines are plying back and forth, and a reminiscent sparkle will come into his eyes as he turns to his lobster-pots and tells you how it was in the good days of clippers and sailing-frigates, when sailor-men were sailor-men and not boiler-room swabs, machine-made and steam-soaked. He will also yarn, with much d--ning of his eyes (and yours), of how fair it was in the deck-watches of the "Saucy Sally" barque, with everything drawing alow and aloft, grog and 'baccy a-plenty, and never a care but the hurry to spend the voyage-money.

And not till he's mumbled all his discontent will he haul his sheets and give you right-of-way.

He forgets, sheer hulk that he is, that he's been in dry-dock a generation or more and that swift-moving Time has loosed his gear and dimmed his binnacle-lights. Despite his ancient croaking, tricks at the wheel are to-day as ably kept, eyes as sharp as his still peer into the dimness over the forecastle, and the sea-lead takes as long a heave as in the early sixties, when he hauled up to New York with a thousand dollars in prize-money and a heart full for the business of spending it. It has always been so. There has never been an age that has not had its carper to tell you of the wonders that once were.

Yet it was truly beautiful. With the tide on the ebb and the wind a-piping free, never was a fairer sight than the Atlantic clipper as she picked her speedy way through the s.h.i.+pping to the harbor's mouth; and nothing so stately as the gallant frigate in her wake, with all sail set to ga'n's'ls, her topsails bellying grandly to the quartering breeze, which whipped the filmy wave-tops against her broad bows, under which the yellow curl lapped merrily its greeting. The harbor clear and the capes abeam, aloft flew the nimble sail-loosers. The royals and the stu'n-sails flapped to the freshening wind, sheets went home with a run, and the yards flew to their blocks.

Then, her departure taken, like a gull she sped blithely on her course.

The rays of the afternoon sun gilded her snowy canvases until she looked a thing of air and fairyland, not of reality. On she flew, her tall spars dipping grandly to the swells--a stately farewell courtesy to the clipper, hull down to leeward. On the decks the boatswain piped his cheerful note, and everything came s.h.i.+p-shape and Bristol-fas.h.i.+on for the cruise. The running-gear was neatly coiled for running, the guns secured for sea, and the watches told off. The officer of the deck walked to and fro, singing softly to himself, casting now and then a careful eye aloft to the weather-leeches, which quivered like an aspen as the helmsman, leaning to the slant of the deck, kept her well up to her work.