shortly after the christmas debauch, mentioned in the preceding chapter, news was brought to the admiral that nine french frigates were cruising on the spanish coast: immediately, all was excitement, bustle, preparation through the fleet. the hannibal and northumberland, both seventy-four gun ships, the cæsar of eighty guns, called by the sailors the old bull-dog, a gun brig, and some others, i forget the names, and the macedonian, were ordered to sail in pursuit of the french. this formidable force dropped down the river, every man composing it eagerly desiring to meet the enemy. the enterprise however, was unsuccessful; after cruising in vain for several days, the admiral signalled the fleet to return. before reaching port we fell in with a scotch ship from greenock, in a most perilous condition; her masts and rudder were gone, while her numerous leaks were fast gaining on the labors of the already exhausted crew at the pumps. finding it utterly impossible to save the vessel, we took off the crew; and thus our cruise, though defeated in its main design, proved the means of rescuing several poor wretches from a watery grave. it is a question worthy of consideration, whether this was not a really higher result than if we had found and beaten the french, and had returned in a crippled state, leaving some hundreds killed and wounded. humanity would answer, yea.

so far as the effects of this cruise concerned our own little frigate, they were really quite serious. we were reefing topsails one night, at sea, when the sailing-master, mr. lewis, in a fit of ill-humor, threatened to flog some of the men. the captain overheard him. feeling himself hurt by this assumption of his own prerogative, he told mr. lewis that he was captain in the ship, and it was his business to flog the men. sharp words followed; the captain was exasperated; he ordered the sailing-master to be put in irons. here, however, he exceeded his own power, for, though he might place the common sailor in irons, he might not do so by an officer with impunity. accordingly, when we reached lisbon, a court-martial sat on the case, which resulted in their both being broken or cashiered.

this was a hard blow for lord fitzroy, and he obviously felt it most keenly. it also cut off my expectations of being elevated to the quarter deck; for, although i had never received any direct encouragement from his lordship, yet i had always nourished the hope that ultimately he would keep the promise he made to my mother, and do something for my advancement. now, however, my hopes were destroyed. i was doomed to the forecastle for life.

lord fitzroy was succeeded by captain carson. he however, was soon removed to make way for captain waldegrave, who proved to be far more severe than fitzroy. he and lieutenant hope were kindred spirits: cruelty seemed to be their delight, for at the presence of culprits tied to the gratings, a gleam of savage animation stole over their faces. punishment was now an almost every-day scene; even the boys were not permitted to escape. a lad was appointed boatswain over them, and they were consigned to the care of mr. hope, who took especial delight in seeing them flogged. what a mean, dastardly spirit for a british officer! how utterly contemptible he appears engaged in whipping a few helpless sailor boys! yet thus he did constantly appear, causing them to be flogged for every trifling offence. one poor little fellow, unable to tolerate the thought of the lash, hid himself in the cable tier for several days. he was discovered, only to be most shamefully punished.

these severities filled our crew with discouragement. a sailor dreads the dishonor of the lash. some, urged by a nice sense of honor, have preferred death to its endurance. i have heard of one man who actually loaded himself with shot and deliberately walked overboard. among our ship’s company the effects of these severe measures showed themselves in frequent desertions, notwithstanding the great risk run by such a bold measure; for, if taken, they were sure to meet with a fearful retribution. still, many preferred the chance of freedom; some ran off when on shore with the boats, others dropped overboard in the night, and either swam on shore or were drowned. many others were kept from running away by the strength of their attachment to their old messmates and by the hope of better days. of those who escaped, some were retaken by the portuguese, who delighted to hunt them up for a small sum of money. two of my messmates, named robert bell and james stokes, were taken in this manner. i felt greatly affected at losing their company, for they were pleasant fellows. i felt a peculiar attachment to poor stokes; he had taught me many things which appertain to seamanship, and had cared for my interests with the faithfulness of a parent. o how anxiously did i desire they might not be detected, because i knew, if they were, that they were doomed men. but they were taken by a band of armed portuguese; barefooted, desponding, broken in spirit, they were brought on board, only to be put in irons immediately. by a fortunate chance they escaped with fifty lashes, instead of being flogged through the fleet.

we had another man who escaped, named richard suttonwood; he was very profane, and was much in the habit of using the word “bloody;” hence he was nicknamed “bloody dick” by his shipmates. well, dick ran off. he succeeded in getting on board an english brig in the merchant service. but how chop-fallen was poor dick when he found that this brig was laden with powder for his own frigate! resolving to make the best of the matter, he said nothing of his relation to our frigate, but as soon as the brig dropped alongside of the macedonian, he came on board and surrendered himself; by this means he escaped being flogged, as it was usual to pardon a runaway who voluntarily returned to his duty. the crew were all delighted at his return, as he was quite popular among them for his lively disposition and his talents as a comic singer, which last gift is highly prized in a man of war. so joyous were we all at his escape from punishment, that we insisted on his giving a concert, which went off well. seated on a gun surrounded by scores of the men, he sung a variety of favorite songs, amid the plaudits and encores of his rough auditors.

by such means as these, sailors contrive to keep up their spirits amidst constant causes of depression and misery. one is a good singer, another can spin tough forecastle yarns, while a third can crack a joke with sufficient point to call out roars of laughter. but for these interludes, life in a man of war, with severe officers, would be absolutely intolerable; mutiny or desertion would mark the voyages of every such ship. hence, officers in general highly value your jolly, merry-making, don’t-care sort of seamen. they know the effect of their influence in keeping away discontented thought from the minds of a ship’s company. one of these official favorites paid our frigate a visit while we lay in lisbon. we had just finished breakfast, when a number of our men were seen running in high glee towards the main hatchway. wondering what was going forward, i watched their proceedings with a curious eye. the cause of their joy soon appeared in the person of a short, round-faced, merry-looking tar, who descended the hatchway amid cries of “hurrah! here’s happy jack!” as soon as the jovial little man had set his foot on the berth deck, he began a specimen of his vocal powers. the voice of song was as triumphant on board the macedonian, as it was in days of yore in the halls of ossian. every voice was hushed, all work was brought to a standstill, while the crew gathered round their favorite, in groups, to listen to his unequalled performances. happy jack succeeded, while his visit lasted, in communicating his own joyous feelings to our people, and they parted from him at night with deep regret.

a casual visitor in a man of war, beholding the song, the dance, the revelry of the crew, might judge them to be happy. but i know that these things are often resorted to, because they feel miserable, just to drive away dull care. they do it on the same principle as the slave population in the south, to drown in sensual gratification the voice of misery that groans in the inner man—that lives within, speaking of the indignity offered to its high nature by the chain that eats beyond the flesh—discoursing of the rights of man, of liberty on the free hills of a happier clime: while amidst the gayest negro dance, not a heart among the laughing gang but would beat with high emotions and seize the boon with indescribable avidity, should it be offered its freedom on the spot. so in a man of war, where severe discipline prevails, though cheerfulness smiles at times, it is only the forced merriment of minds ill at ease; minds that would gladly escape the thraldom of the hated service to which they are bound.

nor is this forced submission to circumstances universal. there are individuals who cannot be reached by these pleasantries; in spite of everything, their spirits will writhe under the gripe of merciless authority. we had a melancholy instance of this species of mind on board our frigate. his name was hill, the ward-room steward. this man came on board with a resolute purpose to give satisfaction, if possible, to his superiors. he tried his utmost in vain. he was still scolded and cursed, until his condition seemed unendurable. one morning a boy entered the after ward-room, when the first object that met his astonished eye was the body of the steward, all ghastly and bleeding. he had cut his throat, and lay weltering in his gore. the surgeon was called, who pronounced him to be yet alive. the wound was sewed up, the poor sufferer carried to the hospital-ship, which was in attendance on the fleet, where he recovered, to be returned to his former ship, though in another and worse capacity, that of common sailor.

we had on board a colored man whose name was nugent, who possessed a remarkably fine person, was very intelligent, exceedingly polite in his manners, and easy in his address. he soon grew weary of the caprices of our officers, and ran away. he was taken, however, in rather a curious manner. the officers frequently walked the deck with their spy-glasses. as one of them was spending a few leisure moments in looking at the surrounding shipping, what should appear within the field of his glass, but the person of the fugitive nugent on the deck of an american vessel! upon this, a boat was despatched, which soon returned with the crestfallen deserter, who was unceremoniously thrown into irons. by some fortunate chance, however, he escaped a flogging.

of course, my situation was as unpleasant as that of any other person on board. i could not witness the discomfort and ill-usage of others, without trembling for my own back. i, too, had thoughts of running away, as opportunities frequently offered themselves. but, being ignorant of the portuguese language, i wisely concluded that my condition among them, if i got clear, would, in respect to my present state, bear about the same analogy as the fire does to the frying-pan. my little adventures on shore gave me full assurance of this fact. i remember going ashore on good friday. like good catholics, the portuguese had the masts of their vessels crossed, with effigies of the traitor judas hanging very significantly at their jib-booms. on shore, they were exhibiting the blasphemous mimicry of the solemn scene of the crucifixion. one was bearing the cross, another a sponge, a third the vinegar. the streets were crowded with images of the saints, to which all reverently bowed. woe betide that sacrilegious wretch who refused this tribute to their darling images. he was sure of being knocked down; he was not sure of getting home alive. i was fain to yield my knees to save my skull; so for the time i was as good a catholic as any of them, at least in the matter of bowing and crossing: it was done, however, with true protestant mental reservation, and with a sincere determination to prefer my man-of-war’s life to a life in portugal.

on another occasion, some of our officers took me on shore to help them attend to some purchases. after following them a considerable distance, they gave me a small commission to execute, with directions to return to the ship as soon as it was attended to. this was no easy task, however: they had conducted me to a strange part of the city, and i knew scarcely a word of portuguese. there i stood, then, surrounded only by foreigners, who neither understood my language nor i theirs. all i knew of my destination was, that our boat lay near the fish-market; so, for fish-market i inquired. speaking in english, i asked the first man i met to direct me. he looked at me with the empty stare of an idiot, and passed on. to the next, i said, partly in broken portuguese and partly in my own tongue, “john,” (they call everybody john, whose true name they do not know,) “do show me the fish-market.” he could not understand me; so, shrugging his shoulders, he said, “no entender englis,” and passed on. i asked several others, but invariably received a shrug of the shoulder, a shake of the head, and a “no entender englis,” for an answer. i grew desperate, and began to feel as if i had lost myself, when, to my unutterable satisfaction, i saw an english soldier. i ran up to him and said, “good luck to you; do tell me where the fish-market is, for these stupid portuguese, bad luck to them, can’t understand a word i say; but it is all, no entender englis.” my countryman laughed at seeing my english temper ruffled, and placed me in the way of reaching the fish-market. i hurried thither, when, to my chagrin, the boats were all gone. here, then, was another difficulty; for, though there were plenty of portuguese boatmen, they could not understand which ship i wished to reach. here, however, my fingers did what my tongue refused; our ship had its mainmast out, so, holding up two fingers and pointing to the mast, they at last comprehended me and conveyed me on board. coming alongside, i gave them what i thought was right; but they and i differed in opinion on that point; they demanded more, with considerable bluster, but the sentry shouted, “shove off there!” and pointed his musket at them. whether they thought a reasonable fee, and a timely retreat, better than a contest which might give them the taste of a musket-ball, i cannot determine; at all events, i know that boat never left ship faster than theirs, when they beheld the gleam of the sentry’s musket flashing in their dark faces.

just after this adventure, i came very near being flogged, to my no small alarm. happening on shore with two more of the officers’ servants, named yates and skinner, we stayed so late, the ship’s boats had all gone off. finding the boats gone, we strayed back into the city; night came on, and our return until morning was impossible. we had to wander about the city all night, in constant fear of being apprehended by the portuguese as deserters. to prevent this no very desirable result, my comrades made me a midshipman; for the satisfactory reason, that if an officer was supposed to be in our company, no one would trouble us. the summary process by which i was inducted into my new station, was by means of a stripe carefully marked on my collar with a piece of chalk, to imitate the silver lace on a middy’s coat. thus exalted, i marched my company about lisbon until dawn, when i again found myself the self-same samuel leech, servant to the surgeon of h. m. frigate macedonian, that i was the previous evening, with this additional fact, however, i was now liable to be flogged. so, in the true spirit of a jeremy sneak, we went on board, where, with due ceremony, we were parted for separate examinations. what tale my fellow-wanderers invented, i know not; for my own part, i told the truth of the matter, excepting that i suppressed that part of it which related to my transformation into an officer. luckily for us all, one of the party was the first lieutenant’s servant; if he flogged one, he must flog the whole. to save the back of his own boy, he let us all escape.

we were now ordered on another cruise. being in want of men, we resorted to the press-gang which was made up of our most loyal men, armed to the teeth; by their aid we obtained our full numbers. among them were a few americans; they were taken without respect to their protections, which were often taken from them and destroyed. some were released through the influence of the american consul; others, less fortunate, were carried to sea, to their no small chagrin.

the duties of the press-gang completed, we once more weighed anchor, and were soon careering before the gales of the bay of biscay. our reception in this proverbially stormy bay was by no means a civil one. we met with an extraordinarily severe gale, in which we came very near foundering. we had just finished dinner, when a tremendous sea broke over us, pouring down the hatchway, sweeping the galley of all its half-cooked contents, then being prepared for the officers’ dinner, and covering the berth deck with a perfect flood. it seemed as if old neptune really intended that wave to sink us to davy jones’ locker. as the water rolled from side to side within, and the rude waves without beat against her, our good ship trembled from stem to stern, and seemed like a human being gasping for breath in a struggle with death. the women (there were several on board) set up a shriek, a thing they had never done before; some of the men turned pale; others cursed and tried to say witty things; the officers started; orders ran along the ship to man the chain-pumps, and to cut holes through the berth deck to let the water into the hold. these orders being rapidly obeyed, the ship was freed from her danger. the confusion of the moment was followed by laughing and pleasantries. that gale was long spoken of as one of great danger.

it is strange that sailors, who see so much peril, should treat religion with such neglect as it is usual for them to do. when danger is imminent, they send up a cry for help; when it is past, they rarely return a grateful thank-offering. yet how truly and eloquently has the psalmist shown, in the 107th psalm, what should be the moral effect of the wonders of the deep. what but a deep-rooted spiritual perversity prevents such an effect?

the next incident that disturbed the monotony of our sea-life, was of a melancholy character. we had been giving chase to two west indiamen the whole of one sabbath afternoon; at night it blew so hard we had to reef top-sails; when a poor fellow, named john thomson, was knocked from the yard. in falling, he struck some part of the ship, and the wave which opened to receive him, never disclosed his form again. he was a pressed man, an american by birth, greatly beloved by his messmates, by whom his death was as severely felt as when a member of a family dies on shore. his loss created a dull and gloomy atmosphere throughout the ship: it was several days before the hands regained their wonted elasticity of mind and appearance.

my recollections of this cruise are very feeble and indistinct, owing to a severe injury which confined me to my hammock nearly the whole period. the accident which ended in a severe illness had its origin in the following manner. the duty of cleaning knives, plates, dish-covers, &c., for the ward-room, devolved alternately on the boys employed in the ward-room. having finished this task, one day, in my regular turn, the ward-room steward, a little hot-headed malay, came to me at dinner-time to inquire for the knives. not recollecting for the moment, i made no reply; when he angrily pushed me over a sack of bread. in falling my head came in contact with the corner of a locker. feeling much pain, and the blood flowing freely, i went to mr. marsh, the surgeon’s mate, who dressed it, and bade me take care of it. probably it would have healed speedily but for the freak of a sailor a few days after, while holy-stoning the decks. by holy-stoning, i mean cleaning them with stones, which are used for this purpose in men of war. these stones are, some of them, large, with a ring at each end with a rope attached, by which it is pulled backwards and forwards on the wet decks. these large stones are called holy bibles; the smaller hand ones are also called holy-stones, or prayer-books, their shape being something like a book. after the decks are well rubbed with these stones, they are wiped dry with swabs made of rope-yarns. by this means the utmost cleanliness is preserved in the ship. it was customary in our ship, during this scrubbing process, for the boys to wash themselves in a large tub provided for the purpose on the main deck. the men delighted in sousing us with water during this operation. after being wounded, as just mentioned, i endeavored to avoid their briny libations; but one morning, one of the sailors, seeing my anxiety, crept slily up behind me, and emptied a pail of water directly over my head. that night i began both to look and to feel sick. my messmates said i was sea-sick, and laughed at me. feeling violent pains in my head, ears and neck, i felt relieved when it was time to turn in. the next morning, being rather behind my usual time in waiting upon the surgeon, he began to scold me. i told him i was unwell. he felt my pulse, examined my tongue, and excused me. growing worse, my messmates got down my hammock. i entered it very sick; my head and face swelling very large, and my eyes so sunken i could scarcely see.

i remained in this sad situation several weeks, carefully attended by the surgeon, and watched by the men as tenderly as their rough hands could perform the office of nurse. my destiny was considered as being sealed, both by the crew and by myself. i was much troubled at the thought of dying: it seemed dark and dreary to enter the valley of the shadow of death without the presence of a saviour. to relieve my feelings, i frequently repeated the lord’s prayer, taught me by my indulgent mother in my earlier and brighter years. but my mind was dark and disconsolate; there were none among that kind-hearted but profligate crew to point my soul to its proper rest.

while lying in this state, my life hanging in a doubtful balance, one of the crew, named black tom, an african, was taken sick. his hammock was hung up in the sick bay, a part of the main deck appropriated to hospital purposes. poor tom, having a constitution already undermined by former excesses, soon fell under the attack of disease. he was then sewed up in his hammock, with some shot at his feet: at sundown the ship’s bell pealed a melancholy note, the ship was “hove to,” all hands mustered on deck, but myself; and, amid the most profound silence, the body of the departed sailor was laid upon the grating and launched into the great deep, the resting-place of many a bold head. a plunge, a sudden opening in the water, followed by an equally sudden return of the disparted waves, and black tom was gone forever from his shipmates! in a few moments the yards were braced round, and our frigate was cutting her way again through the wide ocean waste. it seemed to me that she was soon destined to heave to again, that i might also be consigned to an ocean grave. but in this i was happily disappointed. by the blessing of a watchful providence, the aid of a sound constitution, assisted by the skill of our surgeon and the kindness of my shipmates, i was at last able to leave my hammock. shortly after our return to lisbon, i was pronounced fit for duty, and the surgeon having obtained another boy, i was placed on the quarter deck, in the capacity of messenger, or errand boy for the captain and his officers.

with my return to active life, came my exposure to hardships, and, what i dreaded still more, to punishment. some of the boys were to be punished on the main deck; the rest were ordered forward to witness it, as usual. being so far aft that i could not hear the summons, as a matter of course, i remained at my post. the hawk-eye of the lieutenant missed me, and in a rage he ordered me to be sent for to receive a flogging for my absence. excuse was vain; for, such was the fiendish temper of this brutal officer, he only wanted the shadow of a reason for dragging the poor helpless boys of his charge to the grating. while i stood in trembling expectation of being degraded by the hated cat, a summons from the captain providentially called off our brave boy-flogger, and i escaped. the offence was never mentioned afterwards. the reader can easily perceive how such a constant exposure to the lash must embitter a seaman’s life.

already, since the macedonian had been in commission, had she changed captains twice. why it so happened, it is not in my power to explain; but while at lisbon, after the cruise last mentioned, our present captain was superseded by captain john s. carden. his arrival excited a transitory hope of a brighter lot, as he was an older man than the others, and, as we vainly trusted, a kinder one. here, however, we were mistaken; he was like all the rest, the same heartless, unfeeling lover of whip discipline. at first the men under sentence tried their powers at flattery with the grave old man; but he was too experienced a sea-dog to be cajoled by a long-faced sailor under sentence: when, therefore, they told him he was a kind-hearted fatherly gentleman, he only replied by a most provoking laugh, and by saying they were a set of very undutiful sons.

captain carden was mercilessly severe in punishing theft. he would on no account forgive any man for this crime, but would flog the thief almost to death. of this, we soon had a cruel instance. a midshipman named gale, a most rascally, unprincipled fellow, found his pocket handkerchief in possession of one of the crew. he charged the man with stealing it. it was in vain that the poor wretch asserted that he found it under his hammock. he was reported as a thief; a court-martial sat upon him, and returned the shamefully disproportionate sentence of three hundred lashes through the fleet, and one year’s imprisonment! any of my shipmates who are living, will certify to the truth of this statement, brutal and improbable as it may appear.

nor was that sentence a dead letter; the unhappy man endured it to the letter. fifty were laid on alongside of the macedonian, in conformity with a common practice of inflicting the most strokes at the first ship, in order that the gory back of the criminal may strike the more terror into the crews of the other ships. this poor tortured man bore two hundred and twenty, and was pronounced by the attending surgeon unfit to receive the rest. galled, bruised, and agonized as he was, he besought him to suffer the infliction of the remaining eighty, that he might not be called to pass through the degrading scene again; but this prayer was denied! he was brought on board, and when his wounds were healed, the captain, shylock-like, determined to have the whole pound of flesh, ordered him to receive the remainder.

but for my desire to present the reader with a true exhibition of life on board a british man of war, it would be my choice to suppress these disgusting details of cruelty and punishment. but this is impossible; i must either draw a false picture or describe them. i choose the latter, in the hope that giving publicity to these facts will exert a favorable influence on the already improving discipline of ships of war.

the case of our ship’s drummer will illustrate the hopelessness of our situation under such officers as commanded our ship; it will show that implicit, uncomplaining submission was our only resource. this drummer, being seized up for some petty offence, demanded, what no captain can refuse, to be tried by a court-martial; in the hope, probably, of escaping altogether. the officers laughed among each other, and when, a few days afterwards, the poor, affrighted man offered to withdraw the demand and take six dozen lashes, they coolly remarked, “the drummer is sick of his bargain.” he would have been a wiser man had he never made it; for the court-martial sentenced him to receive two hundred lashes through the fleet:—a punishment ostensibly for his first offence, but really for his insolence (?) in demanding a trial by court-martial. such was the administration of justice (?) on board the macedonian.

“why did not your crew rise in resistance to such cruelty?” is a question which has often been proposed to me, when relating these facts to my american friends. to talk of mutiny on shore is an easy matter; but to excite it on shipboard is to rush on to certain death. let it be known that a man has dared to breathe the idea, and he is sure to swing at the yard-arm. some of our men once saw six mutineers hanging at the yard-arm at once, in a ship whose crew exhibited the incipient beginnings of mutiny. let mutiny be successful, the government will employ its whole force, if needful, in hunting down the mutineers; their blood, to the last drop, is the terrible retribution it demands for this offence. that demand is sure to be met, as was the case with the crew of the hermione frigate, and with the crew of the ill-fated bounty, whose history is imprinted on the memory of the whole civilized world. with such tragedies flitting before our eyes, who need ask why we did not resist?

just before we left lisbon for another cruise, my position was once more changed by my appointment to the post of servant to the sailing-master; whose boy, for some offence or other, was flogged and turned away. here, too, the captain procured a fine band, composed of frenchmen, italians and germans, taken by the portuguese from a french vessel. these musicians consented to serve, on condition of being excused from fighting, and on a pledge of exemption from being flogged. they used to play to the captain during his dinner hour; the party to be amused usually consisting of the captain and one or two invited guests from the ward-room; except on sundays, when he chose to honor the ward-room with his august presence. the band then played for the ward-room. they also played on deck whenever we entered or left a port. on the whole, their presence was an advantage to the crew, since their spirit-stirring strains served to spread an occasional cheerful influence over them. soon after they came on board, we had orders to proceed to sea again on another cruise.