by Roy Adkins
No one was to swear on any account, but as there were so many new hands lately pressed from the Indiamen, it was almost impossible to prevent it at first and when any one was heard, his name was taken down on a list and at seven next morning were called and punished, it was not severe tho’ galling, being a new crime and few got more than half a dozen lashes, how I escaped God only knows, as my name had been taken down more than once … Tho’ the punishment was light, it displeased the old seamen, who had not had time to divest themselves of a crime they had been so long accustomed to in the merchant service.46
He noted in his journal that ‘it’s a thousand pities that Sailors should be so fond of strong liquors, that is the only thing that disgraces them’, but later added: ‘and swearing’.47 The evangelical Captain Gambier would not tolerate swearing, as Midshipman Dillon related:
Swearing was strictly forbidden, and the fine of one shilling was imposed for every oath uttered: but the collection of the money was not insisted upon from the officers. For the seamen there was a different plan adopted. When they were brought aft for committing that offence, a large heavy wooden collar, with two 32 lb. of shot in it, was secured upon the shoulders by a lock and key. The culprit would be ordered upon the poop, and kept there for hours, walking to and fro. These regulations caused much discontent and murmuring among the ship’s company, who deserted when they could.48
Archibald Sinclair certainly believed that everyone cursed:
Swearing in the navy, and among all classes of seamen, was at this time carried to a great excess. It had become habitual with almost every one, and was expected. No great harm was meant. A fearful anathema against one’s own eyes or limbs, or, to draw it more mildly, in the phraseology of the day, a good round oath, but scarcely an expletive, either before or after an order had been given, made it more emphatic, and was considered merely as the proper emphasis, without which promptitude and alacrity might be dispensed with.49
Some captains did their best to be lenient, which Daniel Goodall appreciated:
On board the Temeraire the Captain was always disposed to give the delinquent the benefit of his character, if good, on his first appearance for punishment, and in such cases dismissed him with an admonition only. The first time I ever saw all hands turned up for punishment, under Captain [Edward] Marsh’s orders, there were four men charged with the crime of drunkenness, all of whom had been before paraded for the same offence. On this occasion, very fortunately for them, news of the victory of Copenhagen [1801] had just arrived in the fleet, and the Captain, after reading them a very severe lecture, told them, to their own great pleasure and the contentment of their mates, that he should overlook their offence for that time, so as not to mar the rejoicings for the success just announced, but that he should consider himself bound to inflict a double allowance if he ever found them before him again charged with the same or any other offence. A month had barely elapsed before one of them was called up for punishment on the same charge, and the Captain certainly did not quite forget the promise he made on the former occasion.50
Not all seamen who were sentenced to be flogged actually suffered the punishment, according to James Scott: ‘The fact is that thorough-bred good seamen, or respectable men, seldom place themselves in a situation to call for corporal punishment, and if unfortunately they should inadvertently at any time break through the rigid rules of a manof-war, it is generally so arranged that some officer steps forward, and by pleading in their behalf, obtains a remission of the punishment, unless the offence is of a very deep dye.’51 Robert Wilson was reprieved in this way: ‘I was called upon to be punished for some fault, but through Lieutenant Wilson [no relation] giving me a good character, and speaking in my favour, I was forgiven. I had been seized up, and made (as sailors called it) a spread eagle of, by having my arms extended to their full extent. By my having been forgiven, it gave rise to a report that I was a Freemason, nor could I ever after persuade them to the contrary.’52
What made seamen rebellious was the injustice and bullying that could result from a harsh regime rather than the brutality of punishments. ‘Starting’ was the informal beating of seamen with a rope’s end or cane (‘starter’) and could be more common than flogging, but was rarely noted in official records. Daniel Goodall was critical of the Prince George:
The Prince George was one of those ships mismanaged on the driving principle. All the boatswain’s mates carried canes, or pieces of rope’s ends, in their hands, and an indiscriminate shower of blows, accompanied by a volley of the most revolting oaths, was the usual mode of enforcing any order, however simple. It followed as a natural consequence that the vessel was one of the worst handled of the whole fleet, the duties being infinitely better performed on board those ships where driving was rare and rope’s-ending not allowed.53
This punishment was frequently done to drive the men harder but could easily lead to bullying by the petty officers and resentment by the men, and in 1809 it was prohibited.
Another punishment was running the gauntlet, which was usually reserved for crimes like theft that did not just break regulations but affected other members of the crew. On board the Lapwing in October 1798, Aaron Thomas witnessed a scene of running the gauntlet when a man by the name of Thomson, who was formerly the captain’s cook but had been punished and demoted for stealing pieces of meat, was caught thieving money from other seamen:
At 10am Thomson’s arms was lashed; the ship’s company formed a lane all around the waist of the ship, every man being provided with a nettle [length of knotted cord], 2 marines faced him with each a bayonet point at the thief, a cord was thrown over the prisoner’s body, the ends of which were held behind by two quartermasters. Things being thus ordered, he run the gauntlet, every man striking him as he passed, the noise of which I thought at the time resembled reapers at work, when cutting corn. After passing once round, he fainted and dropped down. The surgeon threw some hartshorn in his face, and he was ordered into irons, to receive more punishment when his back recovers.54
Running the gauntlet was abolished by an Admiralty order in 1806.
A few captains put some thought into making the punishment fit the crime, so that ‘John Watson (seaman) was ordered to clean out the head [toilet] for the space of one month for heaving a bone out of one of the ports on the main deck’.55 Refuse such as animal bones was supposed to be emptied down the heads, not thrown randomly overboard, as stipulated in the orders for HMS Superb in 1803: ‘it is strictly forbidden to thrown bones, dirt, or dirty water out of them [the gunports], but dirt of all sorts is to be taken to the head and lowered well down’.56 In the Temeraire, which was preparing to sail from Plymouth in 1801, Daniel Goodall related how an attempted deserter received a relatively light punishment, though he could have been flogged through the fleet or hanged:
The women were all ordered out of the ship, and in making the clearance it was discovered that one of the seamen had got into a shore-boat amongst a party of the damsels, disguised in a female dress, his object being to desert. Before the boat could shove off, he was, however, detected by the keen eyes of the Master-at-Arms, brought on board, and immediately placed in irons. His detection was no matter of surprise to anyone, for his ‘make-up’ seemed as if it were expressly meant to challenge notice, and gave rise to a suspicion that the ladies who had aided his toilette meant him to be discovered. He was kept in irons for a week, still wearing his ‘masquerade habit’ as some of the men called his female dress, and at the end of that time he was brought up in the same guise and received three dozen lashes.57
That was not the end of the matter, Goodall recounted:
After this infliction, he was told that he had got only half of his punishment, and that he should be compelled to do duty in his adopted suit until it was judged proper time to give him his other instalment of the ‘cat’. This degradation, however, it was evident, was never intended, for after a few days confinement he was ordered to do duty in his proper dress, and nothing further wa
s said of the balance of punishment owing to him – the officers judging rightly that he would suffer far more from the ridicule of his shipmates than from the infliction of any severity they might inflict. The poor fellow, during the remainder of his stay on board was known by no other name than ‘Polly’.58
Women on board ship were often regarded as troublesome by the officers because they were not officially subject to navy discipline, and some were at least as prone to drunkenness as the men, but as a last resort a captain could always put a woman ashore. In the Lapwing in 1798 the boatswain John Dixon and his wife had a long history of drunkenness and troublemaking, and on 15 July Aaron Thomas recorded in his journal: ‘At 10 a.m. the Boatswain’s wife came aboard very drunk, her husband got her below, and began thumping her so, that in a few minutes he came up under the half deck, for raw fresh beef, to apply to her black eyes.’59 The next day, Thomas recorded, ‘The Boatswain’s wife turned ashore for drunkenness. At 5 p.m. left Basseterre … for Martinico.’60 On 18 August the ship returned to Basseterre Roads, St Kitts, and the boatswain’s wife returned on board, but within twenty-four hours Thomas was writing, ‘The Boatswain’s wife sent ashore, after gun fire, for being drunk – long bother with the Boatswain and the officers about his wife.’61 The ship sailed the next day, but just as they were leaving ‘the Boatswain’s wife came alongside to beg to have her cloaths with her’.62
In one respect navy regulations might appear more lenient than the harsh laws that prevailed on land, where the law came to be known as ‘The Bloody Code’. In a frantic attempt to protect property from an underclass of people who were unable to make a living in a time of soaring food prices, and were rapidly becoming hardened criminals, more and more capital offences were incorporated into law. By 1815 there were approximately 225 crimes for which someone could be hanged. A Devon newspaper in August 1813 recorded:
Devonshire Assizes [Exeter] Jane Dannatt alias Anne Williams, charged with feloniously personating Sarah Gander, wife of James Gander a seaman of his majesty’s ship Rota, and thereby receiving money from Mr. Smith, clerk of the cheque, at Plymouth – Guilty … The trials at the Crown-bar having closed on Thursday morning, the several prisoners whose sentences had not been passed at the close of their trials, were brought up … The Judge (Sir Vicary Gibbs) then put on his black cap (the sign of condemnation) and an awful shudder shook every heart, when the following prisoners were brought forward altogether, to receive the dreadful sentence of the law: – John Kidwell, Jane Dannatt.63
Disagreements and petty crimes might be settled and punished unofficially by other members of the crew, although such actions might themselves be subject to punishment if they came to light. Midshipmen in particular maintained their own code of conduct, and James Scott recalled how they were treated on board the Achille if they fell asleep on duty:
All being duly prepared [with buckets of water], one dashes the contents of his bucket full in the face of the delinquent, loudly bawling in his ear at the same moment ‘A man overboard!’ and before the poor devil can recover the scaring effects of the first dose, he is almost suffocated by the repeated shocks that assail him from all parts, and so bewildered and mystified that he is led to believe he is the identical fellow who is overboard. Arms and legs are seen striking out in every direction, and ‘Sa–sa–save me!’ plaintively uttered, till the streams cease flowing, and permit the affrighted culprit to recall his scattered senses.64
Maintaining their own code of conduct could easily lead to bullying, as Scott himself experienced:
I have often been surprised that the difficulties and mortifications encountered by youngsters on their entrance into the service … did not disgust a larger proportion of aspirants than was actually the case … in a few months the tormented became the tormentors, so rapid was their initiation in the art of quizzing and bullying their younger brethren, the greenhorns as they were termed, and who were too generally considered as fair game; the practical jokes passed upon them were often dangerous in their tendency and issue … if the poor boys complained, or expressed regret at the step they had taken in entering His Majesty’s Navy, the only comfort they received was the old question echoed from all sides, ‘Why did you [en]’list then?’.65
Scott admitted that if he could have ‘honourably’ left the navy he would have done so,‘but pride … left me to make or mar my fortunes, as it might be’.66
Midshipmen were rarely flogged but were often punished by ‘mast-heading’, when they were sent up to the platform on the mast known as the masthead. Midshipman Dillon suffered such treatment when he was late taking over the watch from his messmate at four in the morning:
I made my appearance on the Quarter Deck just at the moment when he was making a complaint to Lieut. Twysden of my not being up to relieve him. ‘Here I am,’ I called out. ‘It is only a ¼ of an hour past 4.’ However, Mr. Twysden thought proper to be very severe, and, not choosing to listen to what I had to say, ordered me up to the Mast Head. It was a cold morning, with a damp mist. Away I mounted the rigging, and remained aloft till 8 o’clock, then the Lieutenant called me down.67
More injurious to the midshipman’s dignity was the punishment of being tied to the shrouds for a period of time. The midshipman John Courtney Bluett considered punishments meted out to his rank counter-productive, particularly with so many bullying officers:
That strict discipline and subordination are essentially necessary … is a truth that no one … would attempt to deny. But that it should be carried on in the extent it is towards Midshipmen of the Navy is unnecessary, injudicious and unjust. It depresses the spirit of emulation which ought to be nourished and encouraged, it cramps their exertions and completely damps their ardor for the services. A young man entering the Navy must be prepared for every rebuff, must almost stifle every feeling, must be prepared to put up with everything he meets with, even though it should appear to him oppression and injustice.68
If warrant and commissioned officers incurred the displeasure of the captain, they were tried before a court martial – they were not subjected to the punishments of the lower deck. Depending on an officer’s crime, punishments could be harsh, but alternative methods were used to punish them, such as being demoted in rank, reduced in seniority, or dismissed from the service. The death penalty was also used, though officers were normally shot and not hanged. Writing in 1805, the purser John Delafons thought it very fair that punishments for seamen and for officers, who were gentlemen, should differ:
Habits and education create essential differences in the minds and manners of men. To dismiss an officer from His Majesty’s service, would be esteemed a heavy punishment; whereas a common sailor would look upon it, in many cases, as a favour conferred upon him. Corporal punishment, which seldom operates on the feelings of a common seaman or soldier, must affect a petty officer (such as a midshipman) &c. so sensibly, if he has the sentiments of a gentleman, as to render his future life a burden to him.69
At times the seamen became so resentful of particular issues that they sent petitions to the Admiralty. Their complaints included tyrannical captains, harsh punishments, no shore leave and poor food, but rarely excessive workloads. In 1795, though, the men of the Blanche frigate were moved to complain:
To the Right Honourable Lords of Admiralty. A humble petition on account of ill usage. In the first place, we are employed from morning to two or three of clock in the afternoon washing and scrubbing the decks, and every day our chest and bags is ordered on deck, and not down till night; nor ourselves neither even so particular as to wash the decks with fresh water, and if we get wet at any time and hang or spread our clothes to dry, our captain throws them overboard; by which we beg the favour of another commander or another ship. We still remain your most worthy subjects. Blanche’s Crew.70
Petitions were not written lightly, as they were of doubtful legality, and might cause those who signed them to be tried for mutiny, a term used for anything from aggressive language towards an officer to
armed insurrections. Many officers sympathised with Captain Thomas Troubridge’s opinion that ‘whenever I see a fellow look as if he was thinking, I say that’s mutiny’.71 It was doubtless fear of reprisals that prevented individual seamen of the Blanche from signing the petition. William Robinson, who volunteered in 1805 and immediately regretted it, commented that the new recruit ‘may think, but he must confine his thoughts to the hold of his mind, and never suffer them to escape the hatchway of utterance’.72 Some petitions were written as round robins, with the men’s names arranged in a circle to disguise the order of writing and prevent the organiser being identified. William Dillon encountered one example when he joined HMS Glenmore at Cork in 1798, during a time of unrest in Ireland. He thought such round robins were sinister:
On the afternoon that I joined the frigate, a round robin was found under one of the quarter deck guns. That is the term for a threatening letter from the crew: the names are signed in a circle, from which you cannot select the leader, there being no first or last. This letter informed the officers that, if they did not change their conduct, they had a chance of swinging at the foreyard arm … This was to me a most unpleasant beginning in my new ship: still more so because it was the first letter of the kind I had ever seen.73
Considering the number of warships in service, the number of pressed men, and the fact that conditions for them were frequently harsh, it is perhaps surprising that relatively few protests or outright mutinies occurred. The most famous was that on the Bounty in 1789 when Captain Bligh and eighteen men were set adrift in the ship’s launch by the mutineers near Tonga. After an epic voyage of 3600 miles, Bligh’s boat reached Timor, while the mutineers sailed to Pitcairn Island. Fourteen of the mutineers were later captured at Tahiti, but the rest lived out their lives on Pitcairn Island.