University of Virginia Library

25. CHAPTER XXV.

Colder and colder; we are drawing nigh to the Cape.
Now gregoes, pea jackets, monkey jackets, reefing jackets,
storm jackets, oil jackets, paint jackets, round jackets, short
jackets, long jackets, and all manner of jackets, are the order
of the day, not excepting the immortal white jacket, which
begins to be sturdily buttoned up to the throat, and pulled
down vigorously at the skirts, to bring them well over the
loins.

But, alas! those skirts were lamentably scanty; and though,
with its quiltings, the jacket was stuffed out about the breasts
like a Christmas turkey, and of a dry cold day kept the
wearer warm enough in that vicinity, yet about the loins it
was shorter than a ballet-dancer's skirts; so that while my
chest was in the temperate zone, close adjoining the torrid,
my hapless thighs were in Nova Zembla, hardly an icicle's
toss from the Pole.

Then, again, the repeated soakings and dryings it had undergone,
had by this time made it shrink woefully all over,
especially in the arms, so that the wristbands had gradually
crawled up near to the elbows; and it required an energetic
thrust to push the arm through, in drawing the jacket on.

I endeavored to amend these misfortunes by sewing a sort
of canvass ruffle round the skirts, by way of a continuation or
supplement to the original work, and by doing the same with
the wristbands.

This is the time for oil-skin suits, dread-naughts, tarred
trowsers and overalls, sea-boots, comforters, mittens, woolen
socks, Guernsey frocks, Havre shirts, buffalo-robe shirts, and

moose-skin drawers. Every man's jacket is his wigwam,
and every man's hat his caboose.

Perfect license is now permitted to the men respecting
their clothing. Whatever they can rake and scrape together
they put on—swaddling themselves in old sails, and drawing
old socks over their heads for night-caps. This is the time
for smiting your chest with your hand, and talking loud to
keep up the circulation.

Colder, and colder, and colder, till at last we spoke a fleet
of icebergs bound North. After that, it was one incessant
“cold snap,” that almost snapped off our fingers and toes.
Cold! It was cold as Blue Flujin, where sailors say fire
freezes.

And now coming up with the latitude of the Cape, we
stood southward to give it a wide berth, and while so doing
were becalmed; ay, becalmed off Cape Horn, which is worse,
far worse, than being becalmed on the Line.

Here we lay forty-eight hours, during which the cold was
intense. I wondered at the liquid sea, which refused to
freeze in such a temperature. The clear, cold sky overhead
looked like a steel-blue cymbal, that might ring, could you
smite it. Our breath came and went like puffs of smoke
from pipe-bowls. At first there was a long, gauky swell,
that obliged us to furl most of the sails, and even send down
t'-gallant-yards, for fear of pitching them overboard.

Out of sight of land, at this extremity of both the inhabitable
and uninhabitable world, our peopled frigate, echoing
with the voices of men, the bleating of lambs, the cackling
of fowls, the gruntings of pigs, seemed like Noah's old ark
itself, becalmed at the climax of the Deluge.

There was nothing to be done but patiently to await the
pleasure of the elements, and “whistle for a wind,” the usual
practice of seamen in a calm. No fire was allowed, except
for the indispensable purpose of cooking, and heating bottles
of water to toast Selvagee's feet. He who possessed the
largest stock of vitality, stood the best chance to escape freezing.

It was horrifying. In such weather any man could
have undergone amputation with great ease, and helped take
up the arteries himself.

Indeed, this state of affairs had not lasted quite twenty-four
hours, when the extreme frigidity of the air, united to
our increased tendency to inactivity, would very soon have
rendered some of us subjects for the surgeon and his mates,
had not a humane proceeding of the Captain suddenly impelled
us to vigorous exercise.

And here be it said, that the appearance of the Boatswain,
with his silver whistle to his mouth, at the main hatchway
of the gun-deck, is always regarded by the crew with the
utmost curiosity, for this betokens that some general order is
about to be promulgated through the ship. What now? is
the question that runs on from man to man. A short preliminary
whistle is then given by “Old Yarn,” as they call
him, which whistle serves to collect round him, from their
various stations, his four mates. Then Yarn, or Pipes, as
leader of the orchestra, begins a peculiar call, in which his
assistants join. This over, the order, whatever it may be,
is loudly sung out and prolonged, till the remotest corner
echoes again. The Boatswain and his mates are the town-criers
of a man-of-war.

The calm had commenced in the afternoon; and the following
morning the ship's company were electrified by a general
order, thus set forth and declared: “D'ye hear there,
fore and aft! all hands skylark!”

This mandate, nowadays never used except upon very rare
occasions, produced the same effect upon the men that Exhilarating
Gas would have done, or an extra allowance of “grog.”
For a time, the wonted discipline of the ship was broken
through, and perfect license allowed. It was a Babel here, a
Bedlam there, and a Pandemonium every where. The Theatricals
were nothing compared with it. Then the fainthearted
and timorous crawled to their hiding-places, and the
lusty and bold shouted forth their glee. Gangs of men, in all

sorts of outlandish habiliments, wild as those worn at some
crazy carnival, rushed to and fro, seizing upon whomsoever
they pleased—warrant-officers and dangerous pugilists excepted—pulling
and hauling the luckless tars about, till fairly
baited into a genial warmth. Some were made fast to, and
hoisted aloft with a will; others, mounted upon oars, were
ridden fore and aft on a rail, to the boisterous mirth of the
spectators, any one of whom might be the next victim.
Swings were rigged from the tops, or the masts; and the most
reluctant wights being purposely selected, spite of all struggles,
were swung from East to West, in vast arcs of circles,
till almost breathless. Hornpipes, fandangoes, Donnybrookjigs,
reels, and quadrilles, were danced under the very nose of
the most mighty captain, and upon the very quarter-deck and
poop. Sparring and wrestling, too, were all the vogue; Kentucky
bites were given, and the Indian hug exchanged. The
din frightened the sea-fowl, that flew by with accelerated
wing.

It is worth mentioning that several casualties occurred, of
which, however, I will relate but one. While the “skylarking”
was at its height, one of the fore-top-men—an ugly-tempered
devil of a Portuguese, looking on—swore that he would
be the death of any man who laid violent hands upon his inviolable
person. This threat being overheard, a band of desperadoes,
coming up from behind, tripped him up in an instant,
and in the twinkling of an eye the Portuguese was straddling
an oar, borne aloft by an uproarious multitude, who rushed
him along the deck at a rail-road gallop. The living mass of
arms all round and beneath him was so dense, that every
time he inclined to one side he was instantly pushed upright,
but only to fall over again, to receive another push from the
contrary direction. Presently, disengaging his hands from
those who held them, the enraged seaman drew from his bosom
an iron belaying-pin, and recklessly laid about him to
right and left. Most of his persecutors fled; but some eight
or ten still stood their ground, and, while bearing him aloft,

endeavored to wrest the weapon from his hands. In this attempt,
one man was struck on the head, and dropped insensible.
He was taken up for dead, and carried below to Cuticle,
the surgeon, while the Portuguese was put under guard.
But the wound did not prove very serious; and in a few days
the man was walking about the deck, with his head well
bandaged.

This occurrence put an end to the “skylarking,” further
head-breaking being strictly prohibited. In due time the
Portuguese paid the penalty of his rashness at the gangway;
while once again the officers shipped their quarter-deck faces.