A bunch of rope yarns

by Stanton H. King

Ah, Lewis, it was easy said, but difficult to accomplish. It was hard to resist the many temptations and to keep from returning to my former companions.

Sometimes when a feeling of loneliness came over me and the tempter was near at hand, I searched out Mr. Howe, the ship’s writer, a stanch Christian fellow, and in his company I would find help. Again one of my shipmates, a splendid character, one who attended his church regularly, allowed me to talk with him on religious topics.

I held the rate of a quarter gunner, which gave me the charge of the empty shellrooms as well as care of the guns and ammunition. I secured a handful of candles from Jack of the Dust, and with my Bible tucked into the folds of my blue shirt, one day I wended my way to the shellroom. The shellrooms were forward and aft. Those forward were near the fore peak, making it almost impossible for me to go there without being seen. The after shellroom was under the orlop deck on each side of the tunnel of the propeller shaft.

If my reader could visit the empty starboard shellroom under the orlop deck of the old Wabash, he would find, if they have not lately been removed, drippings of the candles which gave me light to read the story of Him Who “went about doing good.” I could not mark the verses. All of them were interesting to me. The only ones I did mark were those I remembered hearing my father quote. For the first time I carefully read the story of our blessed Lord. It was during these quiet hours in the shellroom that I sought forgiveness and desired the blessings of a Christian life. It was there, as a man, I said my first prayer.

It was my duty to instruct the recruits in singlestick exercise, big gun drill and marching. On a certain forenoon after I had finished drilling the recruits, I went below to the shellroom and was so absorbed in my studies that I forgot my dinner. The time passed on and two bells (one o’clock) were struck. I heard a voice saying, “Yes, King has broken adrift; he hasn’t been seen since he drilled the recruits and he can’t be found.” I quickly blew out my candle and reached the orlop deck. Here I met two recruits who were taking an empty trunk on deck, the property of an officer who had been detached from the ship. I soon learned from them the hour, and that the boatswain’s mate had been shouting himself hoarse calling for me. The temptation to say I had been cleaning the shellroom was present with me. I mastered it and said to the officer of the deck, as I met him, that I had been in the shellroom. Before I could say what kept me there he, trusting me, said, “Open the armory and give the recruits their muskets.” I had done no wrong, still I believed that the executive officer would rather I wouldn’t use a naked light in the shellroom even though it was empty. The ship’s corporal still mistrusted me. He went below to the shellroom and searched for liquor, believing he would find some there belonging to me.

Now I feel I have answered my first question, I will tackle the second. My first recollection of school is, when a mere infant I was taken in the arms of my nurse and carried to the desk of my god-mother, who taught a primary school within a stone’s throw of my father’s house. From her I learned my alphabet and then on till I started to sea I attended school regularly. At twelve years old I was well versed in English, history, geography and arithmetic. I could read readily, and aboard ship I enjoyed reading novels. Before I was sixteen years of age I had read nearly all of Dickens, Scott, and many other renowned authors. During my cruise on the Alliance I devoured everything in the ship’s library, and was continually borrowing both good and bad books from my shipmates.

The day came when I longed to be of some service to the men of the sea. I had gained strength in my Christian life and had won the respect of my shipmates. Those who had ridiculed me now stood by me and encouraged me. I bought an English grammar, and with the help of the ship’s writer and the ship’s printer, I tried to master it. It was a hard task. At this time I formed the acquaintance of a local minister. I told him I wanted an education. His first words were, “Why don’t you go to Moody’s school?” I questioned him closely and learned from him much about Mount Hermon School for young men. Next morning I sent in haste a letter to the principal of the school, telling him who I was and that my only desire was to enter Mount Hermon for a course of study.

In a few days I received a large envelope containing a blank form for me to fill, and requesting me to have someone of good standing in my community sign it, vouching for my being a desirable pupil. It also stated that the tuition fee was $100 a year. I had saved no money. My earnings were now given to the support of my youngest sister. The minister signed my application, I mailed it and in a few days I received word that I was granted admission to that grand institution for young men.

It was November and as the school term did not begin till February, I had time to save $50 for the half-year’s tuition. The ship’s company of the Wabash was granted liberty every other night. The starboard watch would be on liberty one night and the port watch the next. I wanted to enter the Charlestown evening schools and it was of no use my doing so unless I could be on liberty every night. I obtained permission, entered the school and was examined. Dear me! I was put in a class of small boys who were far ahead of me in their studies. They laughed at me, and, knowing I was a sailor they joked with me till I felt myself an object of their ridicule. It was impossible for me to study in that class, so I gave up the evening school.

Determined to master the contents of my grammar book, I entered the ward room one morning and obtained the promise of Chaplain Wallace to tutor me, which he kindly did. At that time the special service men enlisted for one year’s service. My enlistment did not expire till May. Therefore during the two months I was preparing for Mount Hermon I was anxious about my discharge.