Sea life in Nelson's time

by John Masefield

CHAPTER IV

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.

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.

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.