Oh! how I execrated my luckless garment; how often I scoured the deck with it to give it a tawny hue; how often I supplicated the inexorable Brush, captain of the paint-room, for just one brushful of his invaluable pigment. Frequently, I meditated giving it a toss overboard; but I had not the resolution. Jacketless at sea! Jacketless so near Cape Horn! The thought was unendurable. And, at least, my garment was a jacket in name, if not in utility.
At length I essayed a "swap." "Here, Bob," said I, assuming all possible suavity, and accosting a mess-mate with a sort of diplomatic assumption of superiority, "suppose I was ready to part with this 'grego' of mine, and take yours in exchange-what would you give me to boot?"
"Give you to _boot?_" he exclaimed, with horror; "I wouldn't take your infernal jacket for a gift!"
How I hailed every snow-squall; for then-blessings on them! — many of the men became _white-jackets_ along with myself; and, powdered with the flakes, we all looked like millers.
We had six lieutenants, all of whom, with the exception of the First Lieutenant, by turns headed the watches. Three of these officers, including Mad Jack, were strict disciplinarians, and never permitted us to lay down on deck during the night. And, to tell the truth, though it caused much growling, it was far better for our health to be thus kept on our feet. So promenading was all the vogue. For some of us, however, it was like pacing in a dungeon; for, as we had to keep at our stations-some at the halyards, some at the braces, and elsewhere-and were not allowed to stroll about indefinitely, and fairly take the measure of the ship's entire keel, we were fain to confine ourselves to the space of a very few feet. But the worse of this was soon over. The suddenness of the change in the temperature consequent on leaving Cape Horn, and steering to the northward with a ten-knot breeze, is a noteworthy thing. To-day, you are assailed by a blast that seems to have edged itself on icebergs; but in a little more than a week, your jacket may be superfluous.
One word more about Cape Horn, and we have done with it.
Years hence, when a ship-canal shall have penetrated the Isthmus of Darien, and the traveller be taking his seat in the ears at Cape Cod for Astoria, it will be held a thing almost incredible that, for so long a period, vessels bound to the Nor'-west Coast from New York should, by going round Cape Horn, have lengthened their voyages some thousands of miles. "In those unenlightened days" (I quote, in advance, the language of some future philosopher), "entire years were frequently consumed in making the voyage to and from the Spice Islands, the present fashionable watering-place of the beau-monde of Oregon." Such must be our national progress.
Why, sir, that boy of yours will, one of these days, be sending your grandson to the salubrious city of Jeddo to spend his summer vacations.
CHAPTER XXX
A PEEP THROUGH A PORT-HOLE AT THE SUBTERRANEAN PARTS OF A MAN-OF-WAR
While now running rapidly away from the bitter coast of Patagonia, battling with the night-watches-still cold-as best we may; come under the lee of my white-jacket, reader, while I tell of the less painful sights to be seen in a frigate.
A hint has already been conveyed concerning the subterranean depths of the Neversink's hold. But there is no time here to speak of the _spirit-room_, a cellar down in the after-hold, where the sailor's «grog» is kept; nor of the _cabletiers_, where the great hawsers and chains are piled, as you see them at a large ship-chandler's on shore; nor of the grocer's vaults, where tierces of sugar, molasses, vinegar, rice, and flour are snugly stowed; nor of the _sail-room_, full as a sail-maker's loft ashore-piled up with great top-sails and top-gallant-sails, all ready-folded in their places, like so many white vests in a gentleman's wardrobe; nor of the copper and copper-fastened _magazine_, closely packed with kegs of powder, great-gun and small-arm cartridges; nor of the immense _shot-lockers_, or subterranean arsenals, full as a bushel of apples with twenty- four-pound balls; nor of the _bread-room_, a large apartment, tinned all round within to keep out the mice, where the hard biscuit destined for the consumption of five hundred men on a long voyage is stowed away by the cubic yard; nor of the vast iron tanks for fresh water in the hold, like the reservoir lakes at Fairmount, in Philadelphia; nor of the _paint-room_, where the kegs of white-lead, and casks of linseed oil, and all sorts of pots and brushes, are kept; nor of the _armoror's smithy_, where the ship's forges and anvils may be heard ringing at times; I say I have no time to speak of these things, and many more places of note.
But there is one very extensive warehouse among the rest that needs special mention-_the ship's Yeoman's storeroom_. In the Neversink it was down in the ship's basement, beneath the berth- deck, and you went to it by way of the _Fore-passage_, a very dim, devious corridor, indeed. Entering-say at noonday-you find yourself in a gloomy apartment, lit by a solitary lamp. On one side are shelves, filled with balls of _marline, ratlin-stuf, seizing-stuff, spun-yarn_, and numerous twines of assorted sizes. In another direction you see large cases containing heaps of articles, reminding one of a shoemaker's furnishing-store-wooden _serving-mallets, fids, toggles_, and _heavers: _ iron _prickers_ and _marling-spikes;_ in a third quarter you see a sort of hardware shop-shelves piled with all manner of hooks, bolts, nails, screws, and _thimbles;_ and, in still another direction, you see a block-maker's store, heaped up with lignum-vitae sheeves and wheels. Through low arches in the bulkhead beyond, you peep in upon distant vaults and catacombs, obscurely lighted in the far end, and showing immense coils of new ropes, and other bulky articles, stowed in tiers, all savouring of tar.
But by far the most curious department of these mysterious store- rooms is the armoury, where the spikes, cutlasses, pistols, and belts, forming the arms of the boarders in time of action, are hung against the walls, and suspended in thick rows from the beams overhead. Here, too, are to be seen scores of Colt's patent revolvers, which, though furnished with but one tube, multiply the fatal bullets, as the naval cat-o'-nine-tails, with a cannibal cruelty, in one blow nine times multiplies a culprit's lashes; so that when a sailor is ordered one dozen lashes, the sentence should read one hundred and eight. All these arms are kept in the brightest order, wearing a fine polish, and may truly be said to _reflect_ credit on the Yeoman and his mates.
Among the lower grade of officers in a man-of-war, that of Yeoman is not the least important. His responsibilities are denoted by his pay. While the _petty officers_, quarter-gunners, captains of the tops, and others, receive but fifteen and eighteen dollars a month-but little more than a mere able seamen-the Yeoman in an American line-of-battle ship receives forty dollars, and in a frigate thirty-five dollars per month.
He is accountable for all the articles under his charge, and on no account must deliver a yard of twine or a ten-penny nail to the boatswain or carpenter, unless shown a written requisition and order from the Senior Lieutenant. The Yeoman is to be found burrowing in his underground store-rooms all the day long, in readiness to serve licensed customers. But in the counter, behind which he usually stands, there is no place for a till to drop the shillings in, which takes away not a little from the most agreeable part of a storekeeper's duties. Nor, among the musty, old account-books in his desk, where he registers all expenditures of his stuffs, is there any cash or check book.
The Yeoman of the Neversink was a somewhat odd specimen of a Troglodyte. He was a little old man, round-shouldered, bald-headed, with great goggle-eyes, looking through portentous round spectacles, which he called his _barnacles_. He was imbued with a wonderful zeal for the naval service, and seemed to think that, in keeping his pistols and cutlasses free from rust, he preserved the national honour untarnished. After _general quarters_, it was amusing to watch his anxious air as the various _petty officers_ restored to him the arms used at the martial exercises of the crew. As successive bundles would be deposited on his counter, he would count over the pistols and cutlasses, like an old housekeeper telling over her silver forks and spoons in a pantry before retiring for the night. And often, with a sort of dark lantern in his hand, he might be seen poking into his furthest vaults and cellars, and counting over his great coils of ropes, as if they were all jolly puncheons of old Port and Madeira.