a few days after we had fairly got out to sea, the thrilling cry of “a man overboard!” ran through the ship with electrical effect; it was followed by another cry of, “heave out a rope!” then by still another, of “cut away the life buoy!” then came the order, “lower a boat!” notwithstanding the rapidity of these commands, and the confusion occasioned by the anticipated loss of a man, they were rapidly obeyed. the ship was then hove to. but that time, however, the cause of all this excitement was at a considerable distance from the ship. it was a poor swede, named logholm, who, while engaged in lashing the larboard anchor stock, lost his hold and fell into the sea. he could not swim; but, somehow, he managed to keep afloat until the boat reached him, when he began to sink. the man at the bow ran his boat hook down, and caught the drowning man by his clothes: his clothes tearing, the man lost his hold, and the swede once more sunk. again the active bowsman ran the hook down, leaning far over the side; fortunately, he got hold of his shirt collar: dripping, and apparently lifeless, they drew him into the boat. he was soon under the surgeon’s care, whose skill restored him to animation and to life. it was a narrow escape!
rising one morning, i heard the men talking about having been called to quarters during the night. they said a strange vessel having appeared, the drums beat to quarters, the guns were got ready, those great lanterns, which are placed on the main deck, called battle lanterns, were got out, and the officers began to muster the men at each division; when they discovered the supposed vessel of war to be nothing more than a large merchant ship. upon this the hands were sent below. all this was news to me; i had slept through all the noise, confusion and bustle of the night, utterly ignorant of the whole matter. it was fortunate for me that the real character of the strange ship was discovered before my name was called, otherwise the morning would have found me at the gratings under punishment. never was boy happier than myself, when made acquainted with my hair-breadth escape from the lash.
we had now reached the island of madeira, occupied by the portuguese, and producing fine oranges, grapes and wine. it is some sixty miles in length, about forty in breadth; the climate is hot, but salubrious; its harbor, or rather roadstead, is by no means commodious or safe—so that our stay was short. here, the portuguese lad who had supplied my place as servant to the surgeon, was sent on shore, for attempting a crime unfit to be mentioned in these pages, but quite common among the spaniards and portuguese. my old master made an effort to obtain me again, but did not succeed.
sailing from madeira, we next made st. michael’s. at this pace we had an increase to our crew, in the person of a fine, plump boy—born to the wife of one of our men. the captain christened the new comer, michael, naming him after the island. this birth was followed by another. whether the captain did not like the idea of such interesting episodes in sea life, or whether any other motive inspired him, i cannot tell; but when, shortly after, we returned to lisbon, he ordered all the women home to england, by a ship just returning thither. before this, however, one of our little tritons had died, and found a grave under the billows, leaving its disconsolate mother in a state little short of distraction. a man of war is no place for a woman.
short cruises are very popular with man-of-war’s men. on many accounts they love being in harbor; on others they prefer being at sea. in harbor they have to work all day, but in return for this they have the whole night for sleep. at sea, the whole time is divided into five watches of four hours each, and two shorter ones, called dog watches, of two hours each, or from four to six and from six to eight, p. m. the design of these dog watches is to alternate the time, so that each watch may have a fair proportion of every night below.
while at our station this time, our old friend, bob hammond, met with some little difficulty, which we will here make matter of record. he was below, and one of his messmates did something that vexed him exceedingly. now bob was not a man to bear vexations tamely, where he had the power to resist them; so, lifting his huge fist, he struck at the offender; missing his real opponent, the blow fell upon another who stood near him. bob was too much of a bully to offer any apology; he merely laughed, and remarked that he had “killed two birds with one stone.”
whether the bird, who, in bob’s figurative language, was killed, did not like being called a bird, or whether he conceived a strong dislike to being a mark for bob to shoot at, is not for me to say; but he certainly disliked the one or the other, for the next morning he reported the matter to the officers, which complaint was considered a most unsailor-like act by the whole crew.
fighting was a punishable offence, so bob was called up the next morning. the captain mentioned what was reported concerning him. he acknowledged it was all true, and without any signs of contrition said, “i only killed two birds with one stone.” the angry captain ordered two dozen lashes to be laid on; it was done without extorting a sigh or a groan. he was then loosed from the grating, and questioned; but he merely replied, in a gruff tone, that “the man who reported him was a blackguard!” for this, he was seized up again and another dozen lashes inflicted; he bore them with the same dogged and imperturbable air. finding it impossible to extort any acknowledgment from the stubborn tar, the captain ordered him below.
about the same time one of our crew, named jack sadler, a fine, noble-hearted seaman, growing weary of the service, determined to desert. dropping into the water, he began swimming towards the shore. it was not very dark, and he was discovered; the sentry was ordered to fire at him, which he did, but missed his prey. a boat was next lowered, which soon overtook and dragged him on board. the officer commanding the boat said, “well, mr. sadler, you thought you had got away, did you?” “you are not so sure that you have me now,” replied sadler, as he sprung over the side of the boat. nor would they have captured him, had not another ship’s boat arrived to their assistance.
the next day, he was seized up and received three dozen lashes, which, considering his offence, was a very light punishment. i suppose that his noble bearing, his lion-hearted courage, and his undaunted manner, produced a favorable feeling in the captain’s mind; especially as he afterwards became his favorite—a fancy man—as those men are called who win the favor of their superior officer.
one of sadler’s failings was that too prevalent evil among seamen, drunkenness. soon after the above affair, he got drunk. being seen by the captain, he was ordered to be put in irons. sadler was bob hammond’s messmate; this worthy, finding his comrade in trouble, made himself drunk, and purposely placed himself in the way of the officers, that he might be put in irons also, to keep his friend sadler company. the plan succeeded. bob had his wish, and the two fearless tars were soon ironed together. nothing daunted, they began to sing, and through the whole night they kept up such a hallooing, shouting and singing as might have served for a whole company of idle roysterers. being near the ward-room, they prevented the officers from sleeping nearly all night.
as usual, after being in irons, they were brought up for punishment the next morning. “well, mr. sadler,” said the captain, “you were drunk, were you, last night?”
“i was, sir,” replied the offender.
had he been any other man, he would have been ordered to strip: as it was, the captain proceeded,—
“do you feel sorry for it, sir?”
“i do, sir.”
“will you try to keep sober if i forgive you?” continued captain carden.
“i will try, sir.”
“then, sir, i forgive you:” and no doubt he was glad to witness that contrition in his favorite which made it consistent to forgive him. having dismissed sadler, he turned to hammond: assuming a sterner look and a harsher voice, he said, in a tone of irony, “well, mr. hammond, you got drunk last night, did you, sir?”
bob shrugged up his shoulders, and removed his enormous quid into a convenient position for speaking, and then replied, “i can’t say but that i had a horn of malt.”
the captain looked thunder at the stalwart man, as he answered, “a horn of malt, you rascal! what do you call a horn of malt?”
“when i was in bengal, madras, and batavia,” said he, “i used to get some stuff called arrack—we used to call it a horn of malt; but this was some good rum.”
bob’s manner was so exquisitely ridiculous while delivering this harangue, that both officers and men broke out into an involuntary laugh. the captain looked confounded, but recovering himself, he said to mr. hope, the first lieutenant, “put that rascal in irons; it is of no use to flog him.”
one of the peculiarities of captain carden was an ardent desire to have a crew of picked, first-rate men. the shiftless, slovenly seaman was his abhorrence. had he dared, he would gladly have given all such their discharge; as it was, he never attempted their recovery, by offering a reward for their detection, if they ran away; while he spared no pains to catch an able, active, valuable man like sadler. he even gave these drones opportunity to escape, by sending them on shore at lisbon, to cut stuff to make brooms for sweeping the deck. the men sent out on these expeditions were nicknamed “broomers.” now, although bob hammond was as expert a sailor as any man in the ship, yet his unconquerable audacity made the captain fear his influence, and wish to get rid of him; hence, a few days after this drunken spree, bob was called on deck to go with the broomers. “you may go, mr. hammond,” said the captain, eyeing him in a very expressive manner, “with these fellows to cut broom.”
bob understood the hint perfectly, and replied, “aye, aye, sir, and i will cut a long handle to it.” i scarcely need remark that the broomers returned without bob. whether he remained on shore to cut the long handle, or for some other purpose, he never informed us: certain it is, however, that the presence of bob hammond never darkened the decks of the macedonian again.
about this time the prevailing topic of conversation among our men and officers was the probability of a war with america. the prevailing feeling through the whole fleet was that of confidence in our own success, and of contempt for the inferior naval force of our anticipated enemies. every man, and especially the officers, predicted, as his eye glanced proudly on the fine fleet which was anchored off lisbon, a speedy and successful issue to the approaching conflict.
we now received orders to sail to norfolk, virginia, with despatches. the voyage was accomplished without any occurrence of note. we found ourselves on the american coast, with no very pleasant impressions. it was late in the fall, and the transition from the mild, soft climate of spain and portugal, to the bleak, sharp atmosphere of the coast of virginia, was anything but delightful.
the most disagreeable duty in the ship was that of holy-stoning the decks on cold, frosty mornings. our movements were never more elastic than when at this really severe task. as usual, it gave occasion to a variety of forecastle yarns about cold stations. among these was one which was attested by many witnesses, and there can be no doubt of its truth:
a british frigate was once stationed in a cold climate. the first lieutenant was a complete tyrant, delighting in everything that caused the crew to suffer. among other things, he took especial care to make the work of holy-stoning as painful as possible, by forcing them to continue at it much longer than was necessary. although he had no watch on deck, he would contrive to be up in season to annoy the men with his hated presence. one morning, the weather being unusually severe, the men sprang to their task with unwonted agility, and contrived to finish it before the appearance of their persecutor. to their vexation, however, just as they had completed their work, he bounced on deck, with a peremptory order to wash the decks all over a second time.
the men dropped on their knees with the holy-stones, and prayed, as the tyrant went below, that he might never come on deck again alive. whether god heard the cry of the oppressed crew, or whether it was the action of the ordinary natural laws, the reader must determine for himself; but when the lieutenant again appeared on deck, he was brought up “feet foremost,” to be buried. he was taken sick that morning: his disease baffled the skill of the surgeon, and in a few days he was a corpse. the opinion that he died a monument of the divine displeasure against cruel, hard-hearted men of power, and of disregard for the miseries and tears of the oppressed poor, is at least worthy of serious consideration.
soon after we had descried land, an american pilot came on board to pilot us into hampton roads. the sound of our own familiar tongue from a stranger, was very agreeable to men who had been accustomed to hear the semi-barbarous lingo of the portuguese, and a thrill of home remembrances shot through our hearts, as, stepping on deck, the pilot exclaimed, “it is very cold!”
while at anchor in hampton roads, we fared well. boats were alongside every day with plenty of beef and pork, which was declared, by universal consent, to be infinitely superior to what we obtained from portugal. our men said that the yankee pork would swell in the pot, which they very sagely accounted for on the supposition that the pigs were killed at the full of the moon. but i suppose that virginia corn had more to do in this matter than lunar influences; though our men most doggedly maintained the contrary and more mystical opinion.
the principal draw-back on the enjoyment of our stay at norfolk, was the denial of liberty to go on shore. the strictest care was taken to prevent all communication with the shore, either personally or by letter. the reason of this prohibition was a fear lest we should desert. many of our crew were americans: some of these were pressed men; others were much dissatisfied with the severity, not to say cruelty, of our discipline; so that a multitude of the crew were ready to give “leg bail,” as they termed it, could they have planted their feet on american soil. hence our liberty was restrained.
our officers never enjoyed better cheer than during our stay at this port. besides feasting among themselves on the fine fat beef, geese and turkeys, which came alongside in abundance, they exchanged visits with commodore decatur and his officers, of the frigate united states, then lying at norfolk. these visits were seasons of much wassail and feasting. i remember overhearing commodore decatur and the captain of the macedonian joking about taking each other’s ship, in case of a war; and some of the crew said that a bet of a beaver hat passed between them on the issue of such a conflict. they probably little thought that this joking over a wine-cup, would afterwards be cracked in earnest, in a scene of blood and carnage.
it was at this port that the difficulty between the british ship leopard and the american frigate chesapeake took place. several american seamen, having escaped from the former, took refuge on board the latter. the captain of the leopard demanded their restoration; the captain of the chesapeake refused submission to the demand. the leopard fired into the frigate, which, being of inferior force, struck to her opponent. as it was a time of peace, the chesapeake was not kept as a prize; the claimed men were taken from her, and she was restored. this was among the circumstances which led to the war of 1812.
the despatches delivered, and the object of the voyage accomplished, we once more put to sea; having first laid in a liberal store of our favorite beef, together with a quantity of virginia beans, called calavances, which were in high favor with our men. to those of our crew who were americans, this was rather an unpleasant event. like the fabled tantalus, they had the cup at their mouths, but it receded before they could taste its contents. they had been at the threshold of “home, sweet home,” but had not been permitted to step within its doors. some of them felt this very keenly, especially a boy, who belonged to new york, named jesse lloyd. in truth, it was a hard lot.
a quick winter passage brought us to lisbon, where the arrival of the english mail-bag, and orders to proceed to england with a convoy of merchantmen, put us all into a tolerably good humor.
the arrival of the mail-bag is a season of peculiar interest on board a man of war. it calls the finer feelings of human nature into exercise. it awakens conjugal, fraternal, and filial affection in almost every breast. the men crowd around, as the letters are distributed, and he was pronounced a happy fellow whose name was read off by the distributor; while those who had none, to hide their disappointment, would jocularly offer to buy those belonging to their more fortunate messmates.
during the two years of our absence i had received several letters from my mother, which afforded me much satisfaction. to these i had faithfully replied. i now experienced the advantage of the primary education i had received when a boy. many of my shipmates could neither read nor write, and were, in consequence either altogether deprived of the privilege of intercourse with their friends, or were dependent on the kindness of others, to read and write for them. for these i acted as a sort of scribe. i also solaced many weary hours by reading such works as could be obtained from the officers; and sometimes i perused the bible and prayer book which my mother so wisely placed in my chest, on the eve of my departure. the pack of cards, which so inappropriately accompanied them, i had loaned to one of the officers, who took the liberty to keep them. this was, perhaps, more fortunate than otherwise, since their possession might have led to their use, and their use might have excited a propensity to gambling, which would have ended in my ruin.
after remaining a very short time at lisbon, we one morning fired a gun to give notice to our convoy to get under weigh. immediately the harbor was alive with noise and activity. the song of the sailors weighing anchor, the creaking of pulleys, the flapping of the sails, the loud, gruff voices of the officers, and the splashing of the waters, created what was to us, now that we were “homeward bound,” a sweet harmony of sounds. amid all this animation, our own stately frigate spread her bellying sails to a light but favoring breeze; with colors flying, our band playing lively airs, and the captain with his speaking trumpet urging the lagging merchant-ships to more activity, we passed gaily through the large fleet consigned to our care. in this gallant style we scudded past the straggling ruins of old lisbon, which still bore marks of the earthquake that destroyed it. very soon the merry fishermen, who abound in the tagus, were far at our stern. next, we glided past the tall granite pinnacles of towering mount cintra; the high-lands passed from our vision like the scenes in a panorama, and in a few hours, instead of the companionship of the large flocks of gulls, which abound in this river, we were attended by only here and there one of these restless wanderers of the deep. we were fairly at sea, and, what was the more inspiring, we were enjoying the luxury of fond anticipation. visions of many an old fire-side, of many a humble hearth-stone, poor, but precious, flitted across the visions of our crew that night. hardships, severe discipline, were for the time forgotten in the dreams of hope. would that i could say that everything in every mind was thus absorbed in pleasure! there were minds that writhed under what is never forgotten. like the scar, that time may heal, but not remove, the flogged man forgets not that he has been degraded; the whip, when it scarred the flesh, went farther; it wounded the spirit; it struck the man; it begat a sense of degradation he must carry with him to his grave. we had many such on board our frigate; their laugh sounded empty, and sometimes their look became suddenly vacant in the midst of hilarity. it was the whip entering the soul anew. but the most of our crew were, for the time, happy. they were homeward bound!