Sea life in Nelson's time

by John Masefield

Then the curses and blaspheming followed, with threats of the cat and disrating. The poor fellows on the yard would redouble their efforts, dripping with sweat as they pounded the heavy canvas into the skin. That was the heart-breaking part of the business: doing one’s level best and getting damned for one’s pains. Then, directly the job was done, a wild rush from the yard took place. Many captains had the savagery to flog the last man down, so that every man risked his neck to get down quickly. In reefing top-sails this rule invariably punished the best man—i.e. the man at the yard-arm or post of honour. The captains do not seem to have considered that the last man down was generally the first man up. Their cruelty caused the death of many poor seamen, who fell from aloft while racing up or down, or while working recklessly on the yard. An old sailor has told us of a captain of a top who deliberately threw himself overboard rather than suffer punishment for some slight irregularity aloft. “These men are frequently punished,” says Jack Nastyface, “and are always in dread when aloft lest they should be found fault with for not being quick enough, for punishment is sure to follow, and sure enough their conjectures are too true: for they are not only flogged, but their grog is stopped.”

Next in importance to the topmen were the men of the after-guard, a company composed of poor seamen and landsmen, despised by all the real sailors. The duties of the after guard were easy, if dishonourable. They worked the after braces, the spanker, main-sail, and lower stay-sails. It was their duty to keep the after parts of the ship clean. At quarters they were stationed at guns on the gun-deck, or as sail-trimmers, or as small-arm men, as the lieutenant directed. The after-guard in a first-rate ship numbered about 90 men, while the forecastle, fore and main tops were manned by from 60 to 70 each. A mizzentop needed fewer men, from 25 to 30 being the usual number. The after-guards, marines, and waisters invariably manned the capstans when anchor was weighed.

The largest division of a ship’s company, and the most ignoble, was that of the waisters, the men stationed in the waist, the men “without art or judgment,” who hauled aft the fore and main sheets, and kept the decks white. They were the scavengers, swabbers, pumpers, the doers of the ship’s dirty work, the pigsty keepers, and ship’s sewer men. They were sometimes ordinary seamen who were strong enough but too stupid to be stationed aloft. Generally they were landsmen, unfit for other duties. They had charge of all the live stock, if the ship carried any, and he that was “good for nothing else” was “good enough for a waister.” Large ships generally carried about twice as many waisters as after-guard men. In small ships the proportion was more nearly equal.

Lastly, there were the idlers, or men with day duty, who stood no watch at sea. Among these were the holders, who lived in the hold, in perpetual semi-darkness, creeping about, on their queer occasions, among the casks and stinks. Then there were the poulterers, who fed the captain’s geese in the boats on the booms, or crammed the chickens in the hen-coops. Then there were painters, in charge of the port-red, yard-blacking, side-yellow, and white, with the oil for mixing them and the brushes for laying them on. There were tailors, who made fine clothes for the crew of the captain’s jolly-boat, and did odd jobs, for payment, for the other members of the crew. There were the mast men, one to each mast, to keep the ropes beautifully coiled, and the brass on the fife-rails polished. There were butchers to kill the live stock and fatten the pigs; barbers to clip and shave; and hairdressers to dress the men’s queues, and comb out the wigs of the officers. There was the lady of the gun-room—an old man, who kept the gun-room clean. There were the ward-room cooks, and the captain of the sweepers; the captain of the head, and the writer to the first lieutenant; the loblolly-boys, and the sick-bay sentinels. All of these had “all night in,” with the reservation that, if all hands were wanted during the night, they should turn out with the rest to the pressing duty on deck.

The topmen, forecastle men, after-guards, and waisters were divided into two watches, larboard and starboard. They slept at night in hammocks on the lower-deck, packed like sardines, row after row, stretching across the ship from side to side. The hammocks during most of Lord Nelson’s career were of a dull, brown colour, not unlike the colour of a tanned sail. Afterwards they were made of white canvas, or “twilled sacking,” which was kept white by frequent washing. The hammocks were slung by cords to wooden battens or cleats, nailed to the beams above the gun-decks. The rule was “fourteen inches to a man,” but some ships afforded sixteen inches, and one or two as much as eighteen. The petty officers, who slept by the ship’s side, had each about two feet of space, as “they are not to be pinched.” In practice, the rule was not so severe as it sounds. In most ships the watches were berthed alternately, a man of the larboard watch alternating with a man of the starboard watch in each row of hammocks, so that at night every other hammock in each row was vacant, and the pressure made more tolerable. In those ships in which this rule was not observed the watches slept on their respective sides, jammed together in great discomfort. The berthing of the men on their respective sides of the ship had the further disadvantage of putting the vessel out of trim, by bringing a great weight to one side, instead of spreading it equably.

Each man had two hammocks, one in use and the other clean. Hammocks were shifted and scrubbed once a week, and hung up to dry between the masts. In the morning of each day, at half past seven, the sleepers were roused from their blankets by the boatswain’s pipe, the pipes of his mates, and the “All hands. Turn out and save a clue. Out or down here. Rise and shine. Out or down here. Lash and carry.” Those who snuggled into their hammocks for an extra minute were promptly cut down, and beaten about the shoulders with colts or cobs. One was expected to turn out at the first sound of the pipe. The sailors generally slept “all standing, like a trooper’s horse”—that is, without taking off many of their clothes. The clothes they did take off they generally laid carefully under their pillows, lest the thieves should get them during the night. On turning out, they slung their clothes about them with all speed, and at once set about lashing their hammocks into tight sausage-like rolls. This they performed by a cord, called a hammock lasher. A correctly-lashed hammock was secured by “seven turns.” Directly the seven turns were passed the hammock was lowered on deck, the clues, or head and foot supports, were carefully twisted under the lashing, and the sailor slung the roll over his shoulder, and ran on deck to stow it. The hammock nettings, where the hammocks were stowed, ran all round the upper part of the ship, making a sort of bulwark, six or seven feet high, for the protection of the marines and small-arm parties. The quarter-masters, master’s mates, and midshipmen superintended the stowing of the hammocks, and rejected every hammock too loosely lashed to pass through a regulation hoop. Each division of the ship stowed their hammocks in certain well-defined parts of the nettings, as the forecastle men on the forecastle, the foretop men under the fore-rigging, and the marines on the poop. Each hammock was numbered on a white painted patch, with a few plain blue letters indicating the station of its owner. During the daytime, in fine weather, the hammocks were left in the nettings, exposed to the sun and wind. In wet or foul weather they were covered with canvas covers, painted white or yellow, and known as hammock cloths. At night, at about 7 or 7.30 P.M., they were piped down—i.e. removed from their places in the nettings, and slung at their respective battens on the berth-deck. The berthings, the places where the men slept, were indicated by custom. The forecastle men slept forward; the foretop men next to the forecastle men; then the main-top men, waisters, and after-guard. The marines either slept aft, just forward of the gun-room, or in the recesses of the orlop, forward of the after cockpit. The idlers stowed themselves away among the men, towards the ship’s sides, or in their little nooks below the gun-decks, in the wings and tiers.

For meals, the sailors divided themselves into messes, of from four to eight members apiece. They always messed apart from the marines, for the “guffies,” or “jollies,” were not very popular among them. Each mess had a narrow mess table, which could be hooked up, out of the way, to the beams above, when not in use. At meal times the mess tables were fixed between the guns, so as to swing with the pitch of the ship. Each sailor had a knife, spoon, and hook-pot, an earthenware bowl, and a platter. The knife he always wore about his person, in a belt or lanyard. The other crockery he kept in a wooden tub, called a mess kid, which was secured to the ship’s side. When the ship went into action these tubs were hurried below, out of the way, or flung bodily overboard. The crockery had to be supplied at the sailor’s own cost. If “a sudden lurch,” during meal times, sent the crockery flying he was forced to purchase tin or wooden ware from the purser, to use till he could buy new china. The messes were very friendly and cheery little parties. They liked to be trim and neat, and to make a brave show with their gear. They hated to be seen using the purser’s crockery. Each was presided over by that member of the mess who acted as mess cook for the week. The mess cook had to receive the provisions for the mess from the purser, at the daily issuing of victuals. He had to deliver the meat, peas and oatmeal to the cook in good time. On duff-days he mixed the duff in a handkerchief, whistling a tune while he stoned the raisins (if any were issued), so that none should suspect him of eating them. At tea or supper time he drew the grog for the mess, from the sacred tub under the care of the master’s mate. What was more, he drew a “cook’s portion,” or double allowance, for himself, with which he could buy himself all manner of little luxuries. This extra tot of grog made the post of mess cook to be much desired by all hands. It amply compensated them for the trouble and anxieties of the office.

In some ships the berths, messes, or spaces between the guns were separated and shut off by small screens of canvas for the greater privacy. At night they would be let down to form little shut-off apartments for the privileged petty officers who slept there. The members of each mess were expected to keep their berth scrupulously clean, free from grease spots, biscuit crumbs, and any mess of oatmeal or soup. One of the men of each mess cleaned up after a meal, to remove any disorder of the kind. A man who found himself among uncongenial messmates had permission to change his mess on the first Sunday in each month. This regulation was very wise and humane, and was much esteemed by the sailors. It was customary to speak to the first lieutenant before making the change, giving some reason for the proposed alteration. Some men, who could not agree with their comrades through some fault of temperament, went from mess to mess, till they had disgusted all hands. They then messed alone, as best they could, in out-of-the-way nooks. Quarrelsome and loose-tongued persons, and all those suspected of being white mice, were ostracised in this way. The mess was the one pleasant place aboard where a man could talk freely and cheerily. A man who violated the sanctity of such a place, by quarrelling, privy gambling, political talk, or incitement to mutiny, was not fit to remain in the community. His presence was a danger to all concerned. The petty officers generally messed in those parts of the lower-deck where they slung their hammocks. The sailors were free to make chums where they would, and to mess where they pleased. They availed themselves of the liberty to some extent, but it must be remembered that party spirit always ran very high aboard these ships. A forecastle man affected to despise a topman; a topman despised an after-guard man, and called him a “silk stocking gentleman,” or a “gentleman’s son,” while a member of the after-guard looked down upon a waister, and called him a “Jimmy Dux,” or farmer. All four grades united in despising the marines, calling them “the pipeclays,” the “guffies,” the “jollies,” “the johnny-toe-the-liners.” Sailors pretended to have a strong dislike for the members of the sea regiment. They affected to hate them so heartily that they could hardly be induced to use pipeclay, or to learn the platoon.

The “berth” was not only the place where the seaman ate his meals; it was in many ships the place where he kept his belongings. In frigates, the seamen and marines were allowed to carry small sea chests to sea, one chest to every two men, each chest to lie in its owners’ berth, but the permission was cancelled if the chests were insecurely fastened to the side of the ship. In action, of course, these chests were struck down into the hold, out of the way. In line-of-battle ships the decks were kept too strictly to allow of sea chests being carried. The sailor kept his gear in a painted black canvas bag, big enough to hold his very limited wardrobe. In some line-of-battle ships he was allowed to keep his bag in the berth. In others he had to keep it in a rack in the wings on the orlop-deck, to which access might be had at certain times. In these ships a sailor generally kept a change of clothes in his hammock, so that if he were drenched during the night-watch he might put on dry things when he came below, without waiting till the racks were opened. Some captains were very careful to see that the bags were dried in the sun after heavy weather. Others were needlessly careful to have them all properly numbered, and painted (or even pipeclayed) alike. It was necessary to keep a very strict watch upon the bags, for all the ships swarmed with thieves, and a bag left about the decks, or left unguarded, was swiftly emptied. Any article left loose upon the deck, and found by a ship’s corporal or boatswain’s mate, was taken to the quarter-deck, and exposed to the ship’s company. If the owner claimed it he had his grog stopped, or weakened. If the owner did not claim it it was sold at the next sale of dead men’s effects.