The Three Lieutenants

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“A man is not compelled by law to give evidence against himself,” answered the admiral, laughing. “I give the tale current at the time, and happened to have been informed of the facts which solved the mystery. I should say that Jerry Hazledine had nothing to do with it, as it was before his day. He has a good many things set down to his account.”

“Some of them were true bills, however,” observed another post-captain. “I was a midshipman under him when he commanded the old Turk. Though good-natured he was somewhat hot-tempered. One of our marines had been bred a barber, and Jerry, discovering this, made the man come in every morning to shave him, the steward following with a jug of warm water. It had just been placed on the table as the barber had finished lathering the captain’s face, but instead of being only warm was scalding hot. The marine, not reflecting on this, dipped in his razor, and intending to commence operations on the captain’s upper lip, touched the tip of his nose with the back. As Jerry felt the pain, on the impulse of the moment up went his fist, which he planted with a knock-down blow between the eyes of the unfortunate jolly, who rolled over, half-stunned, on the deck. I, at that moment, went into the cabin, having been sent on some duty or other, and heard Jerry shout out in a voice of thunder:—

“‘Take that, ye spalpeen, and think yourself fortunate to get it instead of the three dozen you would have had as sure as you’re alive for burning your captain’s nose.’ The captain, in half a minute, sitting down as if nothing had happened, the jolly picked himself up and went on with the operation, taking very good care, you may be certain, not to burn Jerry’s nose again. Some time after this, our captain received an intimation from the Admiralty, as did other captains, that flogging was as much as possible to be avoided, and other punishments substituted. On this, Jerry, who was possessed of an inventive turn of mind, set himself to work to devise such as would to a certainty be so hated by the men that they would answer the purpose of maintaining discipline fully as much as flogging. The ship’s cook was a one-legged negro, a jolly, fat fellow with a comical expression of countenance, Sambo Lillywhite by name, generally known as Sam Lilly. Sam had a white mate called Tim Dippings, an incorrigibly idle rascal. One day Tim—not for the first time—had neglected to clean the galley, and on being reported, both he and Sam Lilly were put in the black list. Jerry, exercising his inventive genius, ordered Tim to walk the deck the whole of the afternoon watch, with a cauldron slung round his neck half full of slush; while the black cook, with a huge frying-pan held at arm’s length in each hand, had to pace up and down for the same period. As each bell struck Tim had to sing out, ‘Here am I for not cleaning the galley,’ which was responded to by Sambo, in the most dolorous tone, with, ‘I here for no see ’um do it,’ his peculiar voice and the comical expression of his countenance eliciting roars of laughter from his shipmates. Thus at every half-hour the words went sounding along the deck, ‘Here am I for not cleaning the galley!’ ‘I here for no see ’um do it.’ Jerry, however, on another occasion, surpassed even himself, he caught a man smuggling a bottle of rum on board. The opportunity for exhibiting his inventive genius was not to be lost. The bottle was captured and the man put in the black list. The captain, after due consideration, ordered a cock to be fixed in a seven-gallon beaker, into which, being more than half-filled with water, the rum was emptied. It was then secured by a rope yarn round the neck of the culprit, who appeared thus at the commencement of the watch with a tumbler in his hand, and as the bell struck he had to fill his glass and drink the contents, shouting out at the top of his voice each time, ‘Here am I, a smuggler bold!’ He was never again caught smuggling spirits on board. Some captains with less inventive genius are much more cruel than was our friend Jerry in their black list punishments.”

“That is not a subject I wish to bear spoken of,” observed Captain Sourcrout, in an angry tone.

“Come, come, we’ll change it then, gentlemen,” exclaimed the good-natured admiral.

“I forgot,” whispered Jack’s neighbour to him. “Old Sourcrout is said to have had a man’s head shaved, and to have made him carry a kettle of boiling water on the top of it for two hours during every day-watch for a week, but that may be scandal.”

“As to the shaving I fancy so, but with regard to the water it is true enough, only it was not boiling,” answered Jack. “He got hauled up for it, notwithstanding, and no wonder that he does not like the subject of black-listing spoken of.”

Notwithstanding the grumpy remarks Captain Sourcrout occasionally let drop, the party went off very pleasantly, and Desmond and Gordon assured Tom that he had not overpraised the admiral, and that they had no notion there were such jolly old fellows in the navy. He, at all events, was worthy of all the patronage they could bestow.

Murray came on board the frigate the next day to see Jack and Terence. He was pleased with the corvette as far as she herself was concerned.

“She is as fine a little craft as I could wish for, but,” he added, “the commander is one of the oddest fish I ever fell in with. He has not been to sea for a number of years, and having, as he says, turned his sword into a ploughshare, has devoted his mind to farming and rural sports. Unwilling to tear himself altogether from his beloved beeves and sheep, and pigs and poultry, he has brought them along with him, and has converted the little ship into a regular Noah’s ark. The boats are turned into sheep-pens and hen-coops, and the decks cumbered with ox-stalls and hay-stacks. If the latter, in the meantime, do not catch fire, the admiral, when he comes to inspect us, will order them and the greater portion of the live-stock to be landed, and we shall probably benefit by the remainder, as they must be killed for want of food, so we have said nothing to him as yet on the subject; but Haultaut, our first, grumbles and looks askance at the beasts every time he goes along the deck, and declares that the ship is more like a Thames barge than a man-of-war, while Grummet, the boatswain, grins ominously at them, and tells the butcher to keep his knife sharp, as he will have work enough on his hands before long. Old Babbicome is afflicted, it seems, with absence of mind. The day after he joined the ship he sang out to a midshipman, ‘Let my cab be brought round to the door.’ The youngster stared. ‘Do you hear? What did I say?’ ‘You desired to have your cab brought round to the door, sir,’ answered the midshipman, trying to stifle his laughter. ‘Ah! did I?’ exclaimed the commander. ‘Well, possibly. It’s no easy matter to change one’s mode of expression on a sudden. I mean, man my gig; I am going on shore.’ The first day he attempted to carry on duty, he threw all the crew into convulsions by shouting out, ‘Wo-ho! wo-ho, there! I mean, avast hauling, you lubbers!’ and he swore and stamped with rage when he saw the men tittering near him, and wanted to know what they were laughing at.”