were all on board, and our frigate was ready for sea. Then two hundred more men, draughted from receiving ships, came on board to complete the number of our crew, which, after this addition, amounted to full three hundred men. The jocularity, pleasantry, humour, and good feeling that now prevailed on board our frigate somewhat softened the unpleasantness of my lot, and cultivated a feeling of reconciliation to my circumstances. Various little friendships which sprang up between me and my shipmates threw a gleam of gladness across my path; a habit of attention, respect, and obedience in a short time secured me universal good-will. I began to be tolerably satisfied. Many boys complain of ill-usage at sea. I know they are subjected to it in many instances; yet in most cases they owe it to their own boldness. A boy on shipboard, who is habitually saucy, will be kicked and cuffed by all with whom he has to do; he will be made miserable. The reason is, I imagine, that sailors being treated as inferiors themselves, love to find opportunity to act the superior over some one. They do this over the boys, and if they find a saucy, insolent one, they show him no mercy. Permit me, then, to advise boys who go to sea to be civil and obliging to all; they will be amply repaid for the effort it may cost them to make the trial, especially if they gain the reputation, as I did, of being among the best boys in the ship. A vessel of war contains a little community of human beings, isolated, for the time being, from the rest of mankind. This community is governed by laws peculiar to itself, it is arranged and divided in a manner suitable to its circumstances. Hence, when its members first come together, each one is assigned his respective station and duty. For every task, from getting up the anchor to unbending the sails, aloft and below, at the mess-table or in the hammock, each task has its man, and each man his place. A ship contains a set of human machinery, in which every man is a wheel, a band, or a crank, all moving with wonderful regularity and precision to the will of its machinist-the all-powerful captain. The men are distributed in all parts of the vessel; those in the tops are called foretopmen, maintop-men, and mizentop-men, with two captains to each top, one for each watch. These top-men have to loose, take in, reef, and furl the sails aloft, such as the topgallant sails, top-sails, topgallant royal, and top-sail studding-sails. Others are called forecastlemen, waisters, and the after-guard; these have to loose, tend, and furl the courses-that is, the fore-sail, the main-sail, and lower studding sails; they also have to set the jib, flyingjib, and spanker; the after-guard have a special charge to coil up all ropes in the after-part of the ship. Others are called scavengers; these, as their not very attractive name imports, have to sweep and pick up the dirt that may chance to gather through the day, and throw it overboard. Then come the boys, who are mostly employed as servants to the officers. Our captain had a steward and a boy; these acted as his domestic servants in his large and stately cabin, which, to meet the ideas of landsmen, may be called his house. The lieutenants, purser, surgeon, and sailing-master had each a boy; they, together with the two lieutenants of marines, who were waited upon by two marines, form what is called the ward-room officers. The ward-room is a large cabin (I mean large for a ship, of course) below the captain's, where they all mess together; aft of this cabin is a smaller one, which serves as a species of store-room. Besides these accommodations, every wardroom officer has his state-room, containing his cot, wash-stand, writing-desk, clothes, &c. The gunner, boatswain, and some others, are also allowed a boy; and a man and boy are appointed to be the servants of a certain number of midshipmen. Another arrangement is that of forming the ship's company into watches. The captain, first-lieutenant, surgeon, purser, boatswain, gunner, carpenter, armourer, together with the stewards and boys, are excused from belonging to them, but are liable to be called out to take in sail: some of the last-mentioned are called idlers. All others are in watches, called the larboard and starboard watches. Stations are also assigned at the guns to the whole crew. When at sea, the drummer beats to quarters every night. This beat is a regular tune. I have often heard the words sung which belong to it; this is the chorus Hearts of oak are our ships, jolly tars are our men ; At the roll of this evening drum, all hands hurry to the guns. Eight men and a boy are stationed at each gun, one of whom is captain of the gun, another sponges and loads it, the rest take hold of the side tackle-falls, to run the gun in and out; while the boy is employed in handing the cartridges, for which he is honoured with the name of powder-monkey. Besides these arrangements among the men, there are from thirty to forty marines to be disposed of. These do duty as sentries at the captain's cabin, the ward-room, and at the galley during the time of cooking; they are also stationed at the large guns at night, as far as their numbers run. When a ship is in action, and small-arms can be brought to bear on the enemy, they are stationed on the spardeck; they are also expected to assist in boarding, in conjunction with several seamen from each gun, who are armed with pistols and pikes, and called boarders. The great disparity of numbers between the crew of a merchant ship and that of a man-ofwar, occasions a difference in their internal arrangements and mode of life scarcely conceivable by those who have not seen both. This is seen throughout, from the act of rousing the hands in the morning to that of taking in sail. In the merchantman, the watch below is called up by a few strokes of the handspike on the forecastle; in the man-of-war, by the boatswain and his mates. The boatswain is a petty officer, of considerable importance in his way; he and his mates carry a small silver whistle or pipe, suspended from the neck by a cord. He receives word from the officer of the watch to call the hands up. You immediately hear a sharp shrill whistle; this is succeeded by another and another from his mates. Then follows his hoarse rough cry of "All hands, ahoy!" which is forthwith repeated by his mates. Scarcely has this sound died upon the ear, before the cry of "Up all hammocks, ahoy!" succeeds it, to be repeated in like manner. As the first tones of the whistle penetrate between decks, signs of life make their appearance. Rough |