21. CHAPTER XXI.
ONE REASON WHY MEN-OF-WAR'S-MEN ARE, GENERALLY, SHORTLIVED.
I CAN not quit this matter of the hammocks without making
mention of a grievance among the sailors that ought to be
redressed.
In a man-of-war at sea, the sailors have watch and watch;
that is, through every twenty-four hours, they are on and off
duty every four hours. Now, the hammocks are piped down
from the nettings (the open space for stowing them, running
round the top of the bulwarks) a little after sunset, and piped
up again when the forenoon watch is called, at eight o'clock
in the morning; so that during the daytime they are inaccessible
as pallets. This would be all well enough, did the
sailors have a complete night's rest; but every other night at
sea, one watch have only four hours in their hammocks. Indeed,
deducting the time allowed for the other watch to turn
out; for yourself to arrange your hammock, get into it, and
fairly get asleep; it may be said that, every other night, you
have but three hours' sleep in your hammock. Having then
been on deck for twice four hours, at eight o'clock in the
morning your watch-below comes round, and you are not liable
to duty until noon. Under like circumstances, a merchant
seaman goes to his bunk, and has the benefit of a good long
sleep. But in a man-of-war you can do no such thing; your
hammock is very neatly stowed in the nettings, and there it
must remain till nightfall.
But perhaps there is a corner for you somewhere along the
batteries on the gun-deck, where you may enjoy a snug nap.
But as no one is allowed to recline on the larboard side of
the gun-deck (which is reserved as a corridor for the officers
when they go forward to their smoking-room at the
bridleport),
the starboard side only is left to the seamen. But most
of this side, also, is occupied by the carpenters, sail-makers,
barbers, and coopers. In short, so few are the corners where
you can snatch a nap during daytime in a frigate, that not
one in ten of the watch, who have been on deck eight hours,
can get a wink of sleep till the following night. Repeatedly,
after by good fortune securing a corner, I have been roused
from it by some functionary commissioned to keep it clear.
Off Cape Horn, what before had been very uncomfortable
became a serious hardship. Drenched through and through
by the spray of the sea at night, I have sometimes slept standing
on the spar-deck—and shuddered as I slept—for the want
of sufficient sleep in my hammock.
During three days of the stormiest weather, we were given
the privilege of the berth-deck (at other times strictly interdicted),
where we were permitted to spread our jackets, and
take a nap in the morning after the eight hours' night exposure.
But this privilege was but a beggarly one, indeed. Not
to speak of our jackets—used for blankets—being soaking wet,
the spray, coming down the hatchways, kept the planks of
the berth-deck itself constantly wet; whereas, had we been
permitted our hammocks, we might have swung dry over all
this deluge. But we endeavored to make ourselves as warm
and comfortable as possible, chiefly by close stowing, so as to
generate a little steam, in the absence of any fire-side warmth.
You have seen, perhaps, the way in which they box up subjects
intended to illustrate the winter lectures of a professor
of surgery. Just so we laid; heel and point, face to back,
dove-tailed into each other at every ham and knee. The wet
of our jackets, thus densely packed, would soon begin to distill.
But it was like pouring hot water on you to keep you from
freezing. It was like being “packed” between the soaked
sheets in a Water-cure Establishment.
Such a posture could not be preserved for any considerable
period without shifting side for side. Three or four times
during the four hours I would be startled from a wet doze by
the hoarse cry of a fellow who did the duty of a corporal at
the after-end of my file, “
Sleepers ahoy! stand by to slew
round!” and, with a double shuffle, we all rolled in concert,
and found ourselves facing the taffrail instead of the bowsprit.
But, however you turned, your nose was sure to stick to one or
other of the steaming backs on your two flanks. There was
some little relief in the change of odor consequent upon this.
But what is the reason that, after battling out eight stormy
hours on deck at night, men-of-war's-men are not allowed the
poor boon of a dry four hours' nap during the day following?
What is the reason? The Commodore, Captain, and First
Lieutenant, Chaplain, Purser, and scores of others, have all
night in, just as if they were staying at a hotel on shore. And
the junior Lieutenants not only have their cots to go to at any
time; but as only one of them is required to head the watch,
and there are so many of them among whom to divide that
duty, they are only on deck four hours to twelve hours below.
In some cases the proportion is still greater. Whereas, with
the people it is four hours in and four hours off continually.
What is the reason, then, that the common seamen should
fare so hard in this matter? It would seem but a simple
thing to let them get down their hammocks during the day
for a nap. But no; such a proceeding would mar the uniformity
of daily events in a man-of-war. It seems indispensable
to the picturesque effect of the spar-deck, that the hammocks
should invariably remain stowed in the nettings between
sunrise and sundown. But the chief reason is this—
a reason which has sanctioned many an abuse in this world—
precedents are against it; such a thing as sailors sleeping in
their hammocks in the daytime, after being eight hours exposed
to a night-storm, was hardly ever heard of in the navy.
Though, to the immortal honor of some captains be it said,
the fact is upon navy record that, off Cape Horn, they have
vouchsafed the morning hammocks to their crew. Heaven
bless such tender-hearted officers; and may they and their
descendants—ashore or afloat—have sweet and pleasant slumbers
while they live, and an undreaming siesta when they die.
It is concerning such things as the subject of this chapter
that special enactments of Congress are demanded. Health
and comfort—so far as duly attainable under the circumstances—should
be legally guaranteed to the man-of-war's-man;
and not left to the discretion or caprice of their commanders.
