CHAPTER VI.
THE QUARTER-DECK OFFICERS, WARRANT OFFICERS, AND BERTH-DECK UNDERLINGSOF A MAN-OF-WAR; WHERE THEY LIVE IN THE SHIP; HOW THEY LIVE; THEIRSOCIAL STANDING ON SHIP-BOARD; AND WHAT SORT OF GENTLEMEN THEY ARE.
Some account has been given of the various divisions into which ourcrew was divided; so it may be well to say something of the officers;who they are, and what are their functions.
Our ship, be it know, was the flag-ship; that is, we sported a_broad-pennant_, or _bougee_, at the main, in token that we carried aCommodore--the highest rank of officers recognised in the Americannavy. The bougee is not to be confounded with the _long pennant_ or_coach-whip_, a tapering serpentine streamer worn by all men-of-war.
Owing to certain vague, republican scruples, about creating greatofficers of the navy, America has thus far had no admirals; though, asher ships of war increase, they may become indispensable. This willassuredly be the case, should she ever have occasion to employ largefleets; when she must adopt something like the English plan, andintroduce three or four grades of flag-officers, above aCommodore--Admirals, Vice-Admirals, and Rear-Admirals of Squadrons;distinguished by the color of their flags,--red, white, and blue,corresponding to the centre, van, and rear. These rank respectivelywith Generals, Lieutenant-Generals, and Major-Generals in the army;just as Commodore takes rank with a Brigadier-General. So that the sameprejudice which prevents the American Government from creating Admiralsshould have precluded the creation of all army officers above aBrigadier.
An American Commodore, like an English Commodore, or the French _Chefd'Escadre_, is but a senior Captain, temporarily commanding a smallnumber of ships, detached for any special purpose. He has no permanentrank, recognised by Government, above his captaincy; though onceemployed as a Commodore, usage and courtesy unite in continuing thetitle.
Our Commodore was a gallant old man, who had seen service in his time.When a lieutenant, he served in the late war with England; and in thegun-boat actions on the Lakes near New Orleans, just previous to thegrand land engagements, received a musket-ball in his shoulder; which,with the two balls in his eyes, he carries about with him to this day.
Often, when I looked at the venerable old warrior, doubled up from theeffect of his wound, I thought what a curious, as well as painfulsensation, it must be, to have one's shoulder a lead-mine; though,sooth to say, so many of us civilised mortals convert our mouths intoGolcondas.
On account of this wound in his shoulder, our Commodore had abody-servant's pay allowed him, in addition to his regular salary. Icannot say a great deal, personally, of the Commodore; he never soughtmy company at all, never extended any gentlemanly courtesies.
But though I cannot say much of him personally, I can mention somethingof him in his general character, as a flag-officer. In the first place,then, I have serious doubts, whether for the most part, he was notdumb; for in my hearing, he seldom or never uttered a word. And notonly did he seem dumb himself, but his presence possessed the strangepower of making other people dumb for the time. His appearance on theQuarter-deck seemed to give every officer the lock-jaw.
Another phenomenon about him was the strange manner in which everyoneshunned him. At the first sign of those epaulets of his on the weatherside of the poop, the officers there congregated invariably shrunk overto leeward, and left him alone. Perhaps he had an evil eye; may be hewas the Wandering Jew afloat. The real reason probably was, that likeall high functionaries, he deemed it indispensable religiously tosustain his dignity; one of the most troublesome things in the world,and one calling for the greatest self-denial. And the constant watch,and many-sided guardedness, which this sustaining of a Commodore'sdignity requires, plainly enough shows that, apart from the commondignity of manhood, Commodores, in general possess no real dignity atall. True, it is expedient for crowned heads, generalissimos,Lord-high-admirals, and Commodores, to carry themselves straight, andbeware of the spinal complaint; but it is not the less veritable, thatit is a piece of assumption, exceedingly uncomfortable to themselves,and ridiculous to an enlightened generation.
Now, how many rare good fellows there were among us main-top-men, who,invited into his cabin over a social bottle or two, would have rejoicedour old Commodore's heart, and caused that ancient wound of his to healup at once.
Come, come, Commodore don't look so sour, old boy; step up aloft hereinto the _top_, and we'll spin you a sociable yarn.
Truly, I thought myself much happier in that white jacket of mine, thanour old Commodore in his dignified epaulets.
One thing, perhaps, that more than anything else helped to make ourCommodore so melancholy and forlorn, was the fact of his having solittle to do. For as the frigate had a captain; of course, so far as_she_ was concerned, our Commodore was a supernumerary. What abundanceof leisure he must have had, during a three years' cruise; howindefinitely he might have been improving his mind!
But as everyone knows that idleness is the hardest work in the world,so our Commodore was specially provided with a gentleman to assist him.This gentleman was called the _Commodore's secretary_. He was aremarkably urbane and polished man; with a very graceful exterior, andlooked much like an Ambassador Extraordinary from Versailles. He messedwith the Lieutenants in the Ward-room, where he had a state-room,elegantly furnished as the private cabinet of Pelham. His cot-boy usedto entertain the sailors with all manner of stories about thesilver-keyed flutes and flageolets, fine oil paintings, morocco boundvolumes, Chinese chess-men, gold shirt-buttons, enamelled pencil cases,extraordinary fine French boots with soles no thicker than a sheet ofscented note-paper, embroidered vests, incense-burning sealing-wax,alabaster statuettes of Venus and Adonis, tortoise-shell snuff-boxes,inlaid toilet-cases, ivory-handled hair-brushes and mother-of-pearlcombs, and a hundred other luxurious appendages scattered about thismagnificent secretary's state-room.
I was a long time in finding out what this secretary's dutiescomprised. But it seemed, he wrote the Commodore's dispatches forWashington, and also was his general amanuensis. Nor was this a verylight duty, at times; for some commodores, though they do not _say_ agreat deal on board ship, yet they have a vast deal to write. Veryoften, the regimental orderly, stationed at our Commodore's cabin-door,would touch his hat to the First Lieutenant, and with a mysterious airhand him a note. I always thought these notes must contain mostimportant matters of state; until one day, seeing a slip of wet, tornpaper in a scupper-hole, I read the following:
"Sir, you will give the people pickles to-day with their fresh meat.
"To Lieutenant Bridewell. "By command of the Commodore; "Adolphus Dashman, Priv. Sec."
This was a new revelation; for, from his almost immutable reserve, Ihad supposed that the Commodore never meddled immediately with theconcerns of the ship, but left all that to the captain. But the longerwe live, the more we learn of commodores.
Turn we now to the second officer in rank, almost supreme, however, inthe internal affairs of his ship. Captain Claret was a large, portlyman, a Harry the Eighth afloat, bluff and hearty; and as kingly in hiscabin as Harry on his throne. For a ship is a bit of terra firma cutoff from the main; it is a state in itself; and the captain is its king.
It is no limited monarchy, where the sturdy Commons have a right topetition, and snarl if they please; but almost a despotism like theGrand Turk's. The captain's word is law; he never speaks but in theimperative mood. When he stands on his Quarter-deck at sea, heabsolutely commands as far as eye can reach. Only the moon and starsare beyond his jurisdiction. He is lord and master of the sun.
It is not twelve o'clock till he says so. For when the sailing-master,whose duty it is to take the regular observation at noon, touches hishat, and reports twelve o'clock to the officer of the deck; thatfunctionary orders a midshipman to repair to the captain's cabin, andhumbly inform him of the respectful suggestion of the sailing-master.
"Twelve o'clock reported, sir," says the middy.
"_Make_ it so," rep
lies the captain.
And the bell is struck eight by the messenger-boy, and twelve o'clockit is.
As in the case of the Commodore, when the captain visits the deck, hissubordinate officers generally beat a retreat to the other side and, asa general rule, would no more think of addressing him, exceptconcerning the ship, than a lackey would think of hailing the Czar ofRussia on his throne, and inviting him to tea. Perhaps no mortal manhas more reason to feel such an intense sense of his own personalconsequence, as the captain of a man-of-war at sea.
Next in rank comes the First or Senior Lieutenant, the chief executiveofficer. I have no reason to love the particular gentleman who filledthat post aboard our frigate, for it was he who refused my petition foras much black paint as would render water-proof that white-jacket ofmine. All my soakings and drenchings lie at his state-room door. Ihardly think I shall ever forgive him; every twinge of the rheumatism,which I still occasionally feel, is directly referable to him. TheImmortals have a reputation for clemency; and _they_ may pardon him;but he must not dun me to be merciful. But my personal feelings towardthe man shall not prevent me from here doing him justice. In mostthings he was an excellent seaman; prompt, loud, and to the point; andas such was well fitted for his station. The First Lieutenancy of afrigate demands a good disciplinarian, and, every way, an energeticman. By the captain he is held responsible for everything; by thatmagnate, indeed, he is supposed to be omnipresent; down in the hold,and up aloft, at one and the same time.
He presides at the head of the Ward-room officers' table, who are socalled from their messing together in a part of the ship thusdesignated. In a frigate it comprises the after part of the berth-deck.Sometimes it goes by the name of the Gun-room, but oftener is calledthe Ward-room. Within, this Ward-room much resembles a long, widecorridor in a large hotel; numerous doors opening on both hands to theprivate apartments of the officers. I never had a good interior look atit but once; and then the Chaplain was seated at the table in thecentre, playing chess with the Lieutenant of Marines. It was mid-day,but the place was lighted by lamps.
Besides the First Lieutenant, the Ward-room officers include the juniorlieutenants, in a frigate six or seven in number, the Sailing-master,Purser, Chaplain, Surgeon, Marine officers, and Midshipmen'sSchoolmaster, or "the Professor." They generally form a very agreeableclub of good fellows; from their diversity of character, admirablycalculated to form an agreeable social whole. The Lieutenants discusssea-fights, and tell anecdotes of Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton; theMarine officers talk of storming fortresses, and the siege ofGibraltar; the Purser steadies this wild conversation by occasionalallusions to the rule of three; the Professor is always charged with ascholarly reflection, or an apt line from the classics, generally Ovid;the Surgeon's stories of the amputation-table judiciously serve tosuggest the mortality of the whole party as men; while the goodchaplain stands ready at all times to give them pious counsel andconsolation.
Of course these gentlemen all associate on a footing of perfect socialequality.
Next in order come the Warrant or Forward officers, consisting of theBoatswain, Gunner, Carpenter, and Sailmaker. Though these worthiessport long coats and wear the anchor-button; yet, in the estimation ofthe Ward-room officers, they are not, technically speaking, ratedgentlemen. The First Lieutenant, Chaplain, or Surgeon, for example,would never dream of inviting them to dinner, In sea parlance, "theycome in at the hawse holes;" they have hard hands; and the carpenterand sail-maker practically understand the duties which they are calledupon to superintend. They mess by themselves. Invariably four innumber, they never have need to play whist with a dummy.
In this part of the category now come the "reefers," otherwise"middies" or midshipmen. These boys are sent to sea, for the purpose ofmaking commodores; and in order to become commodores, many of them deemit indispensable forthwith to commence chewing tobacco, drinking brandyand water, and swearing at the sailors. As they are only placed onboard a sea-going ship to go to school and learn the duty of aLieutenant; and until qualified to act as such, have few or no specialfunctions to attend to; they are little more, while midshipmen, thansupernumeraries on board. Hence, in a crowded frigate, they are soeverlastingly crossing the path of both men and officers, that in thenavy it has become a proverb, that a useless fellow is "_as much in theway as a reefer_."
In a gale of wind, when all hands are called and the deck swarms withmen, the little "middies" running about distracted and having nothingparticular to do, make it up in vociferous swearing; exploding allabout under foot like torpedoes. Some of them are terrible little boys,cocking their cups at alarming angles, and looking fierce as youngroosters. They are generally great consumers of Macassar oil and theBalm of Columbia; they thirst and rage after whiskers; and sometimes,applying their ointments, lay themselves out in the sun, to promote thefertility of their chins.
As the only way to learn to command, is to learn to obey, the usage ofa ship of war is such that the midshipmen are constantly being orderedabout by the Lieutenants; though, without having assigned them theirparticular destinations, they are always going somewhere, and neverarriving. In some things, they almost have a harder time of it than theseamen themselves. They are messengers and errand-boys to theirsuperiors.
"Mr. Pert," cries an officer of the deck, hailing a young gentlemanforward. Mr. Pert advances, touches his hat, and remains in an attitudeof deferential suspense. "Go and tell the boatswain I want him." Andwith this perilous errand, the middy hurries away, looking proud as aking.
The middies live by themselves in the steerage, where, nowadays, theydine off a table, spread with a cloth. They have a castor at dinner;they have some other little boys (selected from the ship's company) towait upon them; they sometimes drink coffee out of china. But for allthese, their modern refinements, in some instances the affairs of theirclub go sadly to rack and ruin. The china is broken; the japannedcoffee-pot dented like a pewter mug in an ale-house; the pronged forksresemble tooth-picks (for which they are sometimes used); thetable-knives are hacked into hand-saws; and the cloth goes to thesail-maker to be patched. Indeed, they are something like collegiatefreshmen and sophomores, living in the college buildings, especially sofar as the noise they make in their quarters is concerned. The steeragebuzzes, hums, and swarms like a hive; or like an infant-school of a hotday, when the school-mistress falls asleep with a fly on her nose.
In frigates, the ward-room--the retreat of the Lieutenants--immediatelyadjoining the steerage, is on the same deck with it. Frequently, whenthe middies, waking early of a morning, as most youngsters do, would bekicking up their heels in their hammocks, or running about withdouble-reefed night-gowns, playing tag among the "clews;" the Seniorlieutenant would burst among them with a--"Young gentlemen, I amastonished. You must stop this sky-larking. Mr. Pert, what are youdoing at the table there, without your pantaloons? To your hammock,sir. Let me see no more of this. If you disturb the ward-room again,young gentleman, you shall hear of it." And so saying, thishoary-headed Senior Lieutenant would retire to his cot in hisstate-room, like the father of a numerous family after getting up inhis dressing-gown and slippers, to quiet a daybreak tumult in hispopulous nursery.
Having now descended from Commodore to Middy, we come lastly to a setof nondescripts, forming also a "mess" by themselves, apart from theseamen. Into this mess, the usage of a man-of-war thrusts varioussubordinates--including the master-at-arms, purser's steward, ship'scorporals, marine sergeants, and ship's yeomen, forming the firstaristocracy above the sailors.
The master-at-arms is a sort of high constable and school-master,wearing citizen's clothes, and known by his official rattan. He it iswhom all sailors hate. His is the universal duty of a universalinformer and hunter-up of delinquents. On the berth-deck he reignssupreme; spying out all grease-spots made by the various cooks of theseamen's messes, and driving the laggards up the hatches, when allhands are called. It is indispensable that he should be a very Vidocqin vigilance. But as it is a heartless, so is it a thankle
ss office. Ofdark nights, most masters-of-arms keep themselves in readiness to dodgeforty-two pound balls, dropped down the hatchways near them.
The ship's corporals are this worthy's deputies and ushers.
The marine sergeants are generally tall fellows with unyielding spinesand stiff upper lips, and very exclusive in their tastes andpredilections.
The ship's yeoman is a gentleman who has a sort of counting-room in atar-cellar down in the fore-hold. More will be said of him anon.
Except the officers above enumerated, there are none who mess apartfrom the seamen. The "_petty officers_," so called; that is, theBoatswain's, Gunner's, Carpenter's, and Sail-maker's mates, theCaptains of the Tops, of the Forecastle, and of the After-Guard, and ofthe Fore and Main holds, and the Quarter-Masters, all mess in commonwith the crew, and in the American navy are only distinguished from thecommon seamen by their slightly additional pay. But in the English navythey wear crowns and anchors worked on the sleeves of their jackets, byway of badges of office. In the French navy they are known by strips ofworsted worn in the same place, like those designating the Sergeantsand Corporals in the army.
Thus it will be seen, that the dinner-table is the criterion of rank inour man-of-war world. The Commodore dines alone, because he is the onlyman of his rank in the ship. So too with the Captain; and the Ward-roomofficers, warrant officers, midshipmen, the master-at-arms' mess, andthe common seamen;--all of them, respectively, dine together, becausethey are, respectively, on a footing of equality.
White Jacket; Or, The World on a Man-of-War Page 7