by D P Prouty
He said, “What is your name, boy?”
I replied, “Clyde Carter, sir.”
“Where is your family, Clyde Carter?” he countered.
I told him that I had no family. He did not inquire further, but told me that I looked physically fit and asked if I had any skills. I told him that I know how to read and write a little, and I could plow and harvest some crops. He listened quietly and looked to be studying me. At that time I began to think I made a mistake to tell this stranger that I’m alone, who was this person and why was he asking me these questions?
Then he said, “I am Hugh Campbell, captain of a ship called the Eagle. You may be of service to me as a cabin boy, if you are willing.”
A job! I immediately agreed. I was in no condition to deny any form of a guaranteed meal, I’d do almost anything to keep from going back to Halifax County or begging in the streets of a strange town. He held up his hand as though to stop my enthusiasm and told me to take a few minutes to consider—“to be sure, this is not an easy task. Many a boy has lost his life on the sea, so think clearly. I will not hold you to blame if you refuse.” I accepted with great gratitude, not knowing anything of what the future might bring. I felt an excitement that I had not known before. I was free of the past; the future was an empty page that no pen had marked. I had a job that I knew nothing about and would be going on an adventure with people I’ve yet to meet, and yet I was very eager to begin. Thus, in the summer of 1798 at the age of twelve, I began my naval career as a boy full of heart, spirit, and desire, and yet lacking all knowledge. I guess that’s how all careers begin at some point.
2
The Eagle
I hope we shall crush in its birth the aristocracy of the new French government which dares to challenge our democracy, and try our strength in combat on the sea or on land….For America shall not heed to the empty threats of the French, and disenfranchise our democracy to bribery and corruption.
—Thomas Jefferson
Captain Campbell and I walked down to the docks to the USS Eagle that evening. He explained that the Eagle was a rather new vessel and about half the crew had been newly formed as well. He said the Eagle was a revenue cutter and they’d recently gotten their sea legs, but now had transferred to the navy. I had no idea what he was talking about, but nodded politely as I figured I’d find out later. I was tired and just wanted to find a place to sleep. He went on to describe that many of the recruits were fisherman, merchant seamen, and some landsmen like me going out on their first extended voyage at sea. The ship was quiet as we boarded, only a few men could be seen on the ship. The captain introduced me to a man who was instructed to take me to a sleeping area. The captain said he would see me the next morning and explain my responsibilities and then took his leave of me. The crewman picked up a lantern and led me down some steps through an opening within the ship where there were a great many men sleeping in hammocks hanging down on hooks. The stench of sweat was intensified by the close quarters of so many, I would have preferred to just sleep on top of the ship, but I continued as instructed as not to cause a fuss. The crewman pointed to an empty hammock and said, “You sleep there,” and left with the lantern. It took me several minutes to get into the hammock since it was dark and I’d never gotten into one before. Once I got in it, I quickly fell asleep.
The next morning I awoke to a clatter as men began to get out of their hammocks and up through the opening as the morning light began to beam into the ship. Some men were unhooking the hammocks and putting the ropes in a pile. I followed the men up as several of them looked my way but did not say anything. One man came to me, looked me over and said, “What’s your name, boy?” I told him then he told me to stay where I was. He departed, but returned a few minutes later with a pair of canvas trousers. “These are waterproofed with tar, you will need them later. I’ll find you a place to put your stuff. We’ll be getting breakfast ready soon.” I saw a couple of boys about my age and drifted over to introduce myself. “Good morning, I’m Clyde Carter.”
“Good morning to you also, I’m Charlie Best and this is my friend Frank Hill. We are the powder monkeys.”
“What’s a powder monkey?”
Charlie puffed out his chest and said, “We ensure the gunpowder is brought from the powder kegs to the cannons during a fight.”
I looked down the deck and saw several cannons on both sides of the ship. I hadn’t noticed them the night before and I felt a little queasy. I should have asked the captain what kind of ship this was, the realization that this journey was going to be more dangerous than I thought made me think I should have listened to the captain and considered the matter more thoroughly before readily accepting the job. Charlie looked at me and said, “You all right? You don’t look so good?”
“Are we expecting to fight someone?” I asked without realizing the stupidity of the question since this was an obvious warship.
“Of course, we are at war with the French, haven’t you heard? We are sailing to destroy French pirates!”
I didn’t even know we were at war—and now somehow I am involved, what had I gotten myself into? A young man in a blue uniform stepped up to me, looked at me closely, then looked at Charlie, and said, “You’re only half right, Mr. Best. We are hunting French privateers, not pirates.” He looked back at me and said, “Mr. Carter I gather, the captain told me you were aboard. I’m Midshipman Robert McCall, I was instructed to look after you.” I felt uneasy about the voyage of which we were about to embark and asked the three of them if they had been in a battle before, but much to my surprise, none of them had seen action. Mr. McCall explained that our government refused to pay the French what we owed them for their support during our revolution since they believed it was owed to the French crown, and because they overthrew their king and replaced him with a Republic, we didn’t owe them anything. So the French decided to attack American merchant ships and is paying privateers to capture all they can. “Our task is to protect American merchantmen and capture or destroy enemy vessels intent on doing them harm,” he declared. Then he departed to conduct other duties before breakfast. Frank asked me about my position on the ship and I told him I was the cabin boy, but I didn’t know what that was yet. Charlie said, “I reckoned that, the last cabin boy got a broken leg and departed the ship here in Norfolk.” They informed me that he fell down the hatchway during a storm and was injured.
Charlie and Frank were both from Virginia. Charlie was a thin, blond-haired boy with a pale face. He had keen green eyes and stood a couple of inches taller than I. Frank was a little shorter than me. He had sandy brown hair, brown eyes, and a dark complexion. The pair had heard of the conflict with the French and decided to join up with the navy. As I found out later, the navy was looking for boys to fill positions on board their warships. Not only did they eat and drink less but also they were much smaller targets for sharpshooters and more agile in confined spaces. They also provided a means to develop ordinary seaman and in some cases, and officer class. Ordinary and able seamen were in high demand, especially in time of war.
While talking with them, I got a clear view of the USS Eagle in the morning light. The ship was new as the captain had said, and had the smell of fresh cut wood, new canvass sails, and tar on the ropes. Two great poles jutted skyward with a lot of ropes suspended in a seemingly endless web. I did not know what the purpose was of each type of rope, it seemed overwhelming to me at the time. There were several kegs tied down on the deck, and fourteen cannons, seven on each side of the ship. I was told the crew consisted of seventy, which seemed a lot for a ship of about sixty feet. Men were working on the dock and onboard the ship making preparations; no one spoke to us as we kept out of the way. Frank and Charlie had sailed only once with the Eagle and were still as much a beginner as I, which eased my apprehension—I wasn’t the only one pursuing this undertaking with bold ignorance.
Standing next to the casks of gunpowder, I felt something brush against my leg, startled I looked to see this s
horthaired cat. It seemed friendly enough, so I reached down and rubbed his back. As most cats do, he arched his back and seemed to enjoy the attention. I gave him a few strokes, and then the cat gave me a quick bite on my finger which stung as I pulled my hand back, I was not expecting that reaction and it took me off guard. I kicked at the cat, but it had already started running and I missed.
I shouted, “That blasted cat just bit me!”
Several of the sailors started laughing when I heard a man shout at me, “Hey, you leave that Green Gato alone!” I stood there sucking the slight bleeding of my finger, “Green what? Why’s that man so angry?”
Frank, standing next to me said with a chuckle, “That’s Mr. Edwards, he’s the ship’s cook and that’s the Green Gato,” he said pointing to the cat as it scampered off and disappeared behind some casks. He continued, “I’m not sure where Mr. Edwards got that cat, he said his name was Gato Verde, or Green Cat, but we just call him Green Gato.”
Puzzled, I said, “Why, he’s not even green, he’s brown and white?”
Charlie chimed in, “Aye, but his eyes are green and appear to glow at night.”
“Green Gato ensures no rodents get into Mr. Edwards’s rations. He normally stays below decks, but sometimes gets topside to get some sun I guess. He doesn’t bother anyone, but keep your distance, I think he only likes Mr. Edwards.”
Charlie continued, “The folks that really dislike him are the loblolly boys.”
“The who?” I asked.
“I forgot,” he said with a slight laugh, “You’ll pick up the jargon soon enough. The loblolly boys, they are mates that work for Bat, that is, Dr. Batterton. Although he is an officer, he insists the crew call him Bat. Anyway, the loblolly boys bandage everyone up and assist Bat when he has to operate on someone.”
“You said the loblolly boys don’t like the Green Gato, why?”
“Because they have these buckets of sand you see, for spreading over the blood when it covers the deck, the sand ensures Bat don’t slip while he’s working. Green Gato likes to use those buckets as his personal privy, which irritates the loblolly boys to no end.”
Charlie’s words gave me that awful feeling again, talk of doctors, blood, and bandaging folks up really sunk into me: What was I doing here? Who are these people? I kept my thoughts to myself, and I told myself that if I just focus on learning the language of the crew and not dwell on what might happen, maybe my edgy sense will go away.
Captain Campbell found me on deck and motioned me to his side. He was wearing a blue uniform coat and a large hat with feathers. I guessed that he wore the brown coat in town as not to bring attention to himself. In the light of the morning, I could see he had blue eyes and stood about six foot. He had a cropped beard, graying temples and skin darkened and weathered by the sun. “Son, are you ready for this journey?” I nodded, and then he began to explain my duties. As the cabin boy, he explained, I was his messenger. During an engagement, it was necessary to relay messages throughout the ship due to the intense noise of battle, I was that messenger. He also explained that I would assist the cook in transporting food from the galley to the crew in the forecastle and to the officer’s mess as well. He asked if I had any questions. “Yes, sir, what’s the galley and forecastle?” I said. He chuckled a little, “That will come with time. Which brings me to another responsibility of mine and that is to train the midshipmen on this vessel in seamanship and leadership. There are two midshipmen on this ship, Mr. McCall and Mr. Talbert. They are in training to become commissioned officers. You listen closely to all that is taught them and learn the sails and rigging, and perhaps you will become a midshipman one day.” He seemed a stern man, but with a gentle spirit. More as a teacher, I thought. He did not look at me with pity, but rather something I had not felt in sometime, like the gentleness of a father. Then his face turned more serious, “I have one rule you must obey at all times,” he said. “Always do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you. This ship functions as a body, all parts working for the whole. Should one part fail, we become vulnerable, do you understand?” I nodded. Then he said, “Your soul will be tested; courage comes from within, and the sea will expose your innermost being for all to see.” Then he walked away as if to let the words absorb into my thoughts. Did he intend to scare me? If so, it worked.
The USS Eagle sailed out of Norfolk and headed for the Caribbean Sea. Mr. McCall began teaching me about the ship. “There are many types of ships,” he explained, “Schooners, like the Eagle, brigs, barques, frigates, sloops, and the largest of warships—the ship of the line. Ships have masts—that is the spars that shoot up vertically and support the sails attached to the yards—or horizontal support. The rigging is the ropes, blocks, and pulleys that control the sails and propel the ship faster or slower in wind conditions.” He went on to describe that the types of ships can generally be discerned through their sail plan—that is the number and type of sails that progress the ship. The more sails, the bigger the ship and the larger the crew it takes to maintain the sails. I was inundated as he began to rattle off the types of sails, “There are jibs, square sails, topsails, gaffs, lanteens, and staysails.” I thought I’d never be able to master all of this, it was another language. A man in uniform was passing behind Mr. McCall as he was talking and stopped to listen. He leaned back on the gunwale and folded his arms as Mr. McCall seemed to recite his knowledge of the ship. When Mr. McCall noticed him, he stopped to introduce me as the cabin boy. He introduced himself as the second lieutenant, Lieutenant Gross, and firmly shook my hand. Then he said, “Don’t fret much, Mr. Carter, you’ll comprehend the jargon soon enough, none of us learned it overnight, isn’t that right, Mr. McCall?”
“Aye, sir,” he replied. Then he asserted, “The thing to remember is that warships maintain a balance between speed, firepower, and man power and that is the deciding factor for success. A smaller vessel with minimal manning, although fast, cannot manage large cannons at the risk of slowing the vessel. Substantial vessels can retain over a hundred large cannons, but require generous numbers of men to function, representing shorter voyages due to resupply of provisions. So every type of ship has advantages and disadvantages.” He expressed how we must exploit the disadvantages of our opponents while protecting our weaknesses. He conversed with Mr. McCall for a few minutes then continued on his way as if searching for something.
Mr. McCall continued to explain the basic dialogue of the crew to me, “Fore is the direction to the front of the ship, the front is called the bow. Aft is to the rear of the ship, and the back is called the stern. The left side is the port and the right side is the starboard. What you are standing on is called the deck and the doors are called hatchways. The side railing of the ship that you’re leaning on is called a gunwale.” He also went on to expound that the ship is often referred as a she or her and that “aye” was the term for yes and “aye aye” was a confirmation of understanding and compliance.
I tried to absorb as much information as I could, but the first week at sea was horrible. I was continuously sick and could not keep down anything. I had thought I had made an enormous mistake in choosing to sail in this adventure. I tried to focus on the horizon and take large breaths of fresh air, but nothing seemed to work. Many of the crew had the same sickness. The old sailors said that the “land lubbers” just haven’t got their sea legs yet. Sick or not, the officers expected everyone to conduct their tasks accordingly, I was no exception. I hauled the buckets of food from the galley, where Mr. Edwards prepared the food, to the forecastle where the men ate and slept, then went up on deck and vomited what little I had in my stomach. Drinking beer instead of water didn’t help matters, but since beer lasted longer in barrels than water did, and we had ample supply, it was the chosen staple for meals. We were escorting a couple of larger merchant vessels to the Bahamas, and although the weather was mild, the combination of Mr. McCall’s constant shipboard lessons, the rocking of the ship, and the hooting of Frank and Charlie, who somehow seemed imm
une to this sickness, made this the foulest week of my life.
The officers did not eat with the men and I often helped Mr. Edwards haul prepared meals to the officer’s mess near the captain’s quarters. In addition to the captain, the officers included Lieutenant Potts, the first officer; Lieutenant Gross, the second lieutenant; Dr. Batterton, the surgeon; Lieutenant Baker, the marine commander; and Mr. Freeman, the first mate, as well as Midshipman McCall and Midshipman Talbert.
The captain had the crew conduct continuous cannon drills almost daily. The cannon crews would man the guns and dry fire the weapons, they would put the ball in the cannon as if firing but would not ram the power in first. As I watched them, Frank and Charlie practiced resupplying the powder to the guns by running bags to each gun, an exercise that rendered me weary to look at them as they oozed with sweat. Mr. Freeman, the first mate, was watching nearby and said, “Clyde, do you know anything about cannons?”
“No, sir,” I replied.
“It appears you’re not the only one by the look of these chuckleheads.” Then he yelled at the crew to stop what they were doing. He then moved down to the forth gun on the starboard side and ordered all the crews to get around him as he grabbed a couple of crewmen to assist him. As if teaching a class of youngsters, he began to explain the basic principles of the cannon. He articulated that the Eagle had fourteen six-pounders and only four types of ammunition: round shot, used to fire at the hull; chain shot and angles to fire at the rigging; and grapeshot to fire at the enemy crew. “Once the cannon is mopped, you must quickly get the powder and ball into place. Gunners, you must anticipate the roll of the ship as you light and fire. If your target is the rigging, load the chain shot or angels and fire when our ship rolls away from the target. If you’re firing at the hull, load the round shot and fire when the ship rolls toward the target, got it?”