Feeding Nelson's Navy
Page 5
RICE
Used as a substitute item (one pound of rice for one pound of bread or cheese, one pint of pease or a quart of oatmeal), rice was the standard breakfast dish for the men on the East Indies station, either boiled dry or served slightly wet and known as ‘congee’. (The officers usually had theirs in the form of curry.) Elsewhere it was little known until 1795, when a series of particularly bad harvests led to a wheat famine and the East India Company brought several shiploads of rice back from India. Although in fashionable circles it became patriotic to eat rice, it was never very popular with sailors.29
FRUIT
The only officially-listed fruit was the dried raisins issued as part of the substitute for salt beef. Raisins are, of course, dried black grapes, traditionally muscatel grapes from Malaga; they could themselves be substituted by half their weight of currants, another form of dried grape whose name is a corruption of ‘raisins from Corinth’. On the East Indies station, the dried grape was called ‘kismish’, which is presumably the same thing as the modern kishmish sultana made from the green ‘Thompson seedless’ grape. There are, of course, many other forms of dried fruit which the men would have bought for themselves whenever opportunity allowed.
Nelson and other officers who accepted the idea that citrus fruit were good antiscorbutics would direct their pursers to buy lemons and oranges for the crews when the opportunity occurred. The logs of many of the ships on the Mediterranean station, under various commanders-in-chief including Nelson, show frequent purchases of lemons or oranges, either in small batches for their own ship or in larger quantities to share out among the rest of the fleet.
VEGETABLES
Like citrus fruit, vegetables were something which pursers bought for their ships when opportunity permitted; they could also obtain them from victualling yards. It had been traditional to do this long before the Spithead mutineers expressed their desire for vegetables in 1797; in the Additional Regulations and Instructions published with the 1790 edition of the Regulations and Instructions a clause remarked that it had long been the practice of pursers, when fresh meat was served, to include ‘such a quantity of greens and roots to … give sufficient satisfaction to the men …’.30
Other than the numerous log entries which just say ‘vegetables’, the most commonly mentioned are cabbages and onions. Nelson in particular was convinced that onions were health-giving, remarking in a letter, ‘I find onions are the best thing that can be given to seamen.’31 Leeks are also frequently mentioned, these entries being late in the winter when onions would no longer be available. An interesting point about the onions is that these were, as often as not and even when bought in large quantities, described by number rather than weight or bagsful: Gibraltar received 300 onions every day while stationed in Naples harbour, and 6000 the day before she left; other ships received 2400 or 3000. Given the Victualling Board propensity for nit-picking over precise accounting, it is likely that these numbers were exact, not guesses, and indeed these sorts of numbers occur again and again, in different ships at different places. As one cannot see the lieutenants or masters who were responsible for these log entries actually counting loose onions, these consistent figures suggest that onions traditionally came in strings of a certain number: twenty-five or thirty perhaps. The cabbages also came by number, but a cabbage is much larger than an onion and smaller numbers were involved: Gibraltar at Naples received eighteen each day. Sometimes, rather than cabbages, the description ‘greens’ is used, either as a single description or sometimes ‘x bunches of greens’. This probably meant kale (Brassica oleracea convar. acephela) or the type of loose-headed cabbage known in America as ‘collard greens’ (‘collard’ being a corruption of ‘kale’).
In the Mediterranean, another frequent purchase was pumpkins. The nomenclature of this class of the cucurbita family is complex and by no means clear-cut: the term ‘pumpkin’, depending on whether you are in Britain, America, the Caribbean or Australia, may mean either the big orange fruit with a light and watery flesh, or the orange, green, grey, cream, pinky-yellow or multi-coloured and denser fleshed, chestnutty-tasting, fruit that modern Americans and British call winter squash.32 Short of finding a detailed journal of a contemporary Neapolitan market gardener, we may never know exactly which these were, but although the Royal Navy of the time would not have been aware of it, either version is a good source of several useful vitamins and trace elements. They also have seeds with a tasty ‘nut’ for those who have the inclination to nibble them open.
Carrots and turnips are sometimes mentioned, but until well into the nineteenth century, rarely potatoes, although during the 1795 wheat famine the Victualling Board were offered (and refused) a large quantity by a correspondent, and Dillon mentions eating what he called ‘toast made from potatoes’ on shore during that hard winter. The reason potatoes do not seem to have been bought often may relate to their propensity for turning green and poisonous if exposed to light or sprouting if exposed to warmth; but it is more likely to have been related to the fact that there was somewhat of a social stigma attached to them. Having been continually referred to by social reformers as an ideal food for the poor, the potato had come to be seen as something only to be eaten by the desperate, a label that would not have fitted the image sailors had of themselves.
It has not proved possible to find out with any precision exactly which varieties of vegetables were grown at this period but it is likely that many of them were like those shown in Vilmorin-Andrieux’s late nineteenth century book The Vegetable Garden. Like animals, different varieties of vegetables and fruit developed in different parts of every country, adapting themselves to suit local conditions, with seeds being passed down through the generations. Currently known as ‘heritage’ plants, these old varieties are now being jealously preserved by various organisations anxious to protect genetic variation against the depredations of big seed companies and tidy-minded bureaucrats.
FISH
Because it has a nasty tendency to become damp and then putrid, and because of the ‘salt causes scurvy’ theory (see page 25), dried or salt fish had been dropped from the official naval diet. After centuries of conflict with France and Spain, there may also have been an adverse psychological connection with the fact that the dreaded and hated Catholics ate such fish on several days each week. Fresh fish was another matter, and all ships were supplied with fishing tackle which they were meant to use when opportunity permitted and when they were in ‘a place where fish can be had’. The resultant catch was first to be offered to the sickbay and the remainder shared out among the crew, on a rota system if necessary. This fish was to be considered a free, extra item, not a substitute for anything else.33 Perhaps for this reason, fishing is so rarely mentioned in log books that one might suppose it never happened.
Journals, memoirs and letters home tell a different story. Captain Duff, of the Mars, when on blockade outside Cadiz in the months before Trafalgar mentions in a letter that they had the trawl out and that his share of the catch was ‘a very good turbot’.34 William Mark, cruising off Havre le Grace in 1800 also mentions trawling, remarking that it served as a useful diversion for the men in a situation where there was little else to do.35 The inshore waters of the Mediterranean, where the most fish are to be had, were not always the best place to make the attempt. Patrolling up and down off a port like Toulon may seem a likely place to try a trawl, but there was always the danger of an enemy frigate dashing out. The preferred method for obtaining fish in the Mediterranean was to get it from a local fishing boat. The Royal Navy tended to leave fishing boats alone, finding them useful sources of information as well as food, and some fishing boats took to carrying fruit and vegetables when they knew the Royal Navy was about. However, there were occasions when the French navy took to pressing fishermen to man warships and at these times fishing boats were seized and the crews taken prisoner.
In tropical waters there were the flying fish, or the ‘dolphins’ (actually bonito) which pursued them, or even porpoises
. Basil Hall reports a porpoise being caught half an hour before the officers’ dinner. He told his steward to cut and grill some steaks from it and pass the rest to the crew. Not having encountered the idea of eating porpoise before, the crew were dubious about eating it and a seaman was appointed to hover outside the cabin door. When the steward came out he was waylaid and questioned: ‘Did they really eat it?’ The steward showed the empty dish and the seaman scampered off to report to his mates. By the time the officers had finished dinner and the captain and surgeon went up to view the remains of the porpoise, there was nothing left to see.36
Sharks were also popular prey for seamen fishing in warm waters. Raigersfeld tells of their using pieces of salt pork to bait the shark hooks and thirteen-footers duly being hauled in and despatched with an axe. Then as many men as could sit astride the carcass did so, each hacking off a slice in front of him, having first warned the man behind to watch out what he was doing with his knife. The resultant slices were par-boiled, salted and peppered and grilled, the result reputedly tasting rather like cod.37 Landsman Hay mentions shark being layered with slices of pork and then baked.38
Other things came out of the sea besides fish. Dillon tells of an alligator washed out to sea when he was on the Jamaica station; foolish enough to swim round the ship, it was soon caught and eaten. It looked and apparently tasted like veal, but Dillon, not fancying it, refused the piece he was offered. And anybody who had the opportunity caught turtles, keeping them alive on board by turning them upside-down to prevent escape and dousing them with sea water to keep them moist, or, according to Landsman Hay, keeping them in what he describes as ‘our water tank’.39 In 1813, when there was a shortage of beef on Bermuda (one of the victualling ports for the North American squadron), the Victualling Board agreed that one and a half pounds of turtle could be issued in lieu of one pound of beef.40 Giant tortoises, too, although not sea-creatures, were to be had on islands in the Pacific and Indian Oceans. The American frigate captain David Porter raved about their ‘luscious and delicate’ taste, having acquired a number from some captured whalers. Having tasted them and found how good they were, the Americans remarked sadly about the numbers which had been thrown overboard by the whalers in their attempts to evade capture. Then, a few days later, sailing back over the same stretch of water, they found about fifty tortoises still alive, floating in a group, which they picked up and stowed away, no doubt drooling happily in the process!
DRINKS
The official drink for seamen was not, as is popularly thought, grog, but beer – the daily allowance was one gallon. However, it should be explained that this was not what we now know as a British gallon, but ‘wine’ measure, which is five-sixths of that amount (a British gallon ‘wine measure’ is equivalent to the American gallon). To those accustomed to modern beers this sounds a lot, but the beer issued to seamen, like the normal table beer on land, was ‘small’ or weak beer of 2 to 3 per cent proof. (Modern British bitter beer is about 4 per cent, American Budweiser is 5 per cent, Guinness is 4.4 per cent and European lagers such as Heineken are 5 per cent.) The advantage of beer is that having been boiled in the manufacturing process it is reasonably free from bacteria; if it does not ‘go off’, beer will last in the cask for months whereas water, unless it starts off sterile and goes into a sterile container, becomes nastier and nastier over time.
Beer does go off quite easily in warm weather, which makes it cloudy, sour or vinegary; one brewer’s response to complaints about a batch of beer was that it had been left out in the sun on the quayside. For this reason, brewing was essentially a cool season activity. But even in cold weather, using imperfectly cleaned casks could make the beer go sour and acidy in a few days. Although some beer was supplied by contractors, the Victualling Board also brewed its own, first at Tower Hill in London, then at Deptford, and eventually at Plymouth and Portsmouth. Apart from its keeping qualities, the main reason for making beer the official drink was that it attracted lower excise duty than wine or spirits. The government was concerned about theft and smuggling, and for this reason in the navy it was actually forbidden to open casks of wine or spirits within reach of the British coast for fear of the contents being diverted ashore.41
When the beer ran out, and on stations where it was not available, the official preference was for wine, although this was often fortified with brandy to improve its keeping qualities. One pint of wine was deemed equivalent to one gallon of beer (modern wine bottles hold 75 centilitres, or one and a third pints). We do not know the strength of wine at that time, but now most table wines are about 11 to 13 per cent proof and fortified wines are about 20 per cent. Table wine then probably was much the same strength as it is now. Wine was obtained from Italy and Sicily, and from France or Spain when Britain was not at war with them. Probably, via canny merchants and neutral vessels, it still originated in those countries when Anglo-French or Anglo-Spanish wars were in progress – two of the wine merchants in Barcelona supplying Nelson in the Mediterranean in 1804 as war with Spain loomed were confident that this would not stop supplies. One remarked that if necessary he would send it in neutral ships, the other hinted delicately that he knew whose palm to grease to ensure that stocks would not be confiscated.42
One might suppose that the wine supplied for seamen would be the sort of rough red favoured by working men in the Mediterranean basin countries today, but white wine from Portugal, Italy and Sicily was also bought by the Victualling Board and pursers on the spot. Like other forces stationed in the Mediterranean, Nelson’s fleet bought locally and drank whichever colour was available. When wine and spirits were bought for naval stores in England, a special dispensation was obtained from the Treasury to exempt it from customs duty.
Most ships carried supplies of spirits as well as wine, the official issue being on the basis of a half-pint of spirit equalling a gallon of beer. There must have been some occasions when the captain deemed it appropriate to issue spirits instead of wine when wine was still available – in cold weather, perhaps, or when particularly arduous duties called for a quick booster or reward – but although this seems a reasonable supposition, the author has not yet found any reports of this practice. The type of spirit drunk depended on where they were and what was made locally. In the Mediterranean, it was brandy, on the East Indies station it was arrack and on the West Indies station it was rum. Later, at the instigation of the politically-strong West Indies merchants, rum became the standard spirit. Whichever it was, the rule was that it was to be diluted with water ‘and none suffered to drink drams’.43
The strengths of the brandy and arrack are not known, nor with any accuracy is that of the rum of the day, but it is believed to have been at least four times as strong as the ‘Navy’ rum sold today; that official half-pint would have been the equivalent of two modern bottles. The requirement to dilute spirits is thought to have originated with Admiral Edward Vernon, in the West Indies in 1740. He ordered the rum ration to be diluted with a quart of water, this to be done on the open deck in a scuttle butt kept for that purpose, in the presence of the lieutenant of the watch, and of course any of the crew who cared to observe the process to make sure they were not given short-measure. Admiral Vernon was known as ‘Old Grog’ from his habit of wearing a cloak made of grosgrain (a heavy corded silk fabric) and his rum and water mixture came to be known by the same name.44 Later, on the advice of Doctor Trotter, lemon or lime juice was added to the mixture as an antiscorbutic. Rum has come to be known as ‘Nelson’s blood’, perhaps by people under the impression that his body was preserved in rum; it was actually brought home in a cask of brandy, as evidenced by a letter from the Victory’s purser Walter Burke, asking to be allowed credit for this in his accounts.45
Various mixtures based on rum were popular at the time. Rum, water, sugar and nutmeg was known as ‘Bumbo’; rum or brandy mixed with beer and sugar and heated with a hot iron was known as ‘Flip’; and in the officers’ wardroom similar mixtures with lemon juice and hot water were m
ade into punch. Seamen on shore used their own slang to describe their preferred dilution of spirits: ‘due north’ meant plain spirit, ‘due west’ meant plain water, ‘north westerly’ meant half and half, and describing a glass as ‘southerly’ meant it was empty.46
When there was no beer, and wine or spirits were served, the men filled up with water. Away from a good watering place, there was always concern about replacing what was used, and most captains made a rule that while men could drink their fill at the scuttle butt, they could not take water away. To prevent this, a marine sentry would be stationed by the butt, the fear being that water taken away might be used for some frivolous purpose, such as washing their smalls (damp and salt-encrusted underwear being one of the tribulations of life at sea). Admiral St Vincent became quite incensed about this practice when women were on board, and issued a general order forbidding it.47 When water was short, instead of an open butt at the scuttle, there would be a closed cask with a bung-hole in the head and a hollow tube would be provided as a drinking straw; there are even stories of this cask being put in one of the tops to make it even more difficult to get a drink, but these are probably apocryphal. When there was a real water crisis, it would be rationed out to each man at set times, and at such times rainwater would be collected by spreading sails like awnings, with a couple of shot placed in the middle to form a pool. This water might taste a bit odd, but it would serve to steep and maybe cook the salt meat or pease if nothing else. Pasley reported heavy rain when becalmed near the Atlantic Equator in 1782 when they collected a ton and a half for the cooks to steep the pease, ‘being greatly superior to any other [water] for breaking the pease’.48 The quality of the drinking water depended on three things: how long it had been kept, the state, age and cleanliness of the casks when they were filled, and where it came from. Plymouth had good sweet water from Dartmoor, piped in a conduit known as Drake’s Leat; Deptford water was less dependable, sometimes being compared with the contents of London’s cellars and cess-pits. Although there had been earlier experiments with distillation devices, it was not until 1810 when a new type of cooking stove was introduced that there was any facility for producing fresh water on a useful scale.49