CHAPTER VIII.
SELVAGEE CONTRASTED WITH MAD-JACK.
Having glanced at the grand divisions of a man-of-war, let us nowdescend to specialities: and, particularly, to two of the juniorlieutenants; lords and noblemen; members of that House of Peers, thegun-room. There were several young lieutenants on board; but from thesetwo--representing the extremes of character to be found in theirdepartment--the nature of the other officers of their grade in theNeversink must be derived.
One of these two quarter-deck lords went among the sailors by a name oftheir own devising--Selvagee. Of course, it was intended to becharacteristic; and even so it was.
In frigates, and all large ships of war, when getting under weigh, alarge rope, called a _messenger_ used to carry the strain of the cableto the capstan; so that the anchor may be weighed, without the muddy,ponderous cable, itself going round the capstan. As the cable entersthe hawse-hole, therefore, something must be constantly used, to keepthis travelling chain attached to this travelling _messenger_;something that may be rapidly wound round both, so as to bind themtogether. The article used is called a _selvagee_. And what could bebetter adapted to the purpose? It is a slender, tapering, unstrandedpiece of rope prepared with much solicitude; peculiarly flexible; andwreathes and serpentines round the cable and messenger like anelegantly-modeled garter-snake round the twisted stalks of a vine.Indeed, _Selvagee_ is the exact type and symbol of a tall, genteel,limber, spiralising exquisite. So much for the derivation of the namewhich the sailors applied to the Lieutenant.
From what sea-alcove, from what mermaid's milliner's shop, hast thouemerged, Selvagee! with that dainty waist and languid cheek? Whatheartless step-dame drove thee forth, to waste thy fragrance on thesalt sea-air?
Was it _you_, Selvagee! that, outward-bound, off Cape Horn, looked atHermit Island through an opera-glass? Was it _you_, who thought ofproposing to the Captain that, when the sails were furled in a gale, afew drops of lavender should be dropped in their "bunts," so that whenthe canvas was set again, your nostrils might not be offended by itsmusty smell? I do not _say_ it was you, Selvagee; I but deferentiallyinquire.
In plain prose, Selvagee was one of those officers whom the sight of atrim-fitting naval coat had captivated in the days of his youth. Hefancied, that if a _sea-officer_ dressed well, and conversed genteelly,he would abundantly uphold the honour of his flag, and immortalise thetailor that made him. On that rock many young gentlemen split. For upona frigate's quarter-deck, it is not enough to sport a coat fashioned bya Stultz; it is not enough to be well braced with straps andsuspenders; it is not enough to have sweet reminiscences of Lauras andMatildas. It is a right down life of hard wear and tear, and the manwho is not, in a good degree, fitted to become a common sailor willnever make an officer. Take that to heart, all ye naval aspirants.Thrust your arms up to the elbow in pitch and see how you like it, ereyou solicit a warrant. Prepare for white squalls, living gales andtyphoons; read accounts of shipwrecks and horrible disasters; perusethe Narratives of Byron and Bligh; familiarise yourselves with thestory of the English frigate Alceste and the French frigate Medusa.Though you may go ashore, now and then, at Cadiz and Palermo; for everyday so spent among oranges and ladies, you will have whole months ofrains and gales.
And even thus did Selvagee prove it. But with all the intrepideffeminacy of your true dandy, he still continued his Cologne-waterbaths, and sported his lace-bordered handkerchiefs in the very teeth ofa tempest. Alas, Selvagee! there was no getting the lavender out of you.
But Selvagee was no fool. Theoretically he understood his profession;but the mere theory of seamanship forms but the thousandth part of whatmakes a seaman. You cannot save a ship by working out a problem in thecabin; the deck is the field of action.
Well aware of his deficiency in some things, Selvagee never took thetrumpet--which is the badge of the deck officer for the time--without atremulous movement of the lip, and an earnest inquiring eye to thewindward. He encouraged those old Tritons, the Quarter-masters, todiscourse with him concerning the likelihood of a squall; and oftenfollowed their advice as to taking in, or making sail. The smallestfavours in that way were thankfully received. Sometimes, when all theNorth looked unusually lowering, by many conversational blandishments,he would endeavour to prolong his predecessor's stay on deck, afterthat officer's watch had expired. But in fine, steady weather, when theCaptain would emerge from his cabin, Selvagee might be seen, pacing thepoop with long, bold, indefatigable strides, and casting his eye upaloft with the most ostentatious fidelity.
But vain these pretences; he could not deceive. Selvagee! you know verywell, that if it comes on to blow pretty hard, the First Lieutenantwill be sure to interfere with his paternal authority. Every man andevery boy in the frigate knows, Selvagee, that you are no Neptune.
How unenviable his situation! His brother officers do not insult him,to be sure; but sometimes their looks are as daggers. The sailors donot laugh at him outright; but of dark nights they jeer, when theyhearken to that mantuamaker's voice ordering _a strong pull at the mainbrace_, or _hands by the halyards!_ Sometimes, by way of beingterrific, and making the men jump, Selvagee raps out an oath; but thesoft bomb stuffed with confectioner's kisses seems to burst like acrushed rose-bud diffusing its odours. Selvagee! Selvagee! take amain-top-man's advice; and this cruise over, never more tempt the sea.
With this gentleman of cravats and curling irons, how stronglycontrasts the man who was born in a gale! For in some time oftempest--off Cape Horn or Hatteras--_Mad Jack_ must have entered theworld--such things have been--not with a silver spoon, but with aspeaking-trumpet in his mouth; wrapped up in a caul, as in amain-sail--for a charmed life against shipwrecks he bears--and crying,_Luff! luff, you may!--steady!--port! World ho!--here I am!_
Mad Jack is in his saddle on the sea. _That_ is his home; he would notcare much, if another Flood came and overflowed the dry land; for whatwould it do but float his good ship higher and higher and carry hisproud nation's flag round the globe, over the very capitals of allhostile states! Then would masts surmount spires; and all mankind, likethe Chinese boatmen in Canton River, live in flotillas and fleets, andfind their food in the sea.
Mad Jack was expressly created and labelled for a tar. Five feet nineis his mark, in his socks; and not weighing over eleven stone beforedinner. Like so many ship's shrouds, his muscles and tendons are allset true, trim, and taut; he is braced up fore and aft, like a ship onthe wind. His broad chest is a bulkhead, that dams off the gale; andhis nose is an aquiline, that divides it in two, like a keel. His loud,lusty lungs are two belfries, full of all manner of chimes; but youonly hear his deepest bray, in the height of some tempest--like thegreat bell of St. Paul's, which only sounds when the King or the Devilis dead.
Look at him there, where he stands on the poop--one foot on the rail,and one hand on a shroud--his head thrown back, and his trumpet like anelephant's trunk thrown up in the air. Is he going to shoot dead withsounds, those fellows on the main-topsail-yard?
Mad Jack was a bit of a tyrant--they _say_ all good officers are--butthe sailors loved him all round; and would much rather stand fiftywatches with him, than one with a rose-water sailor.
But Mad Jack, alas! has one fearful failing. He drinks. And so do weall. But Mad Jack, _He_ only drinks brandy. The vice was inveterate;surely, like Ferdinand, Count Fathom, he must have been suckled at apuncheon. Very often, this bad habit got him into very serious scrapes.Twice was he put off duty by the Commodore; and once he came near beingbroken for his frolics. So far as his efficiency as a sea-officer wasconcerned, on shore at least, Jack might _bouse away_ as much as hepleased; but afloat it will not do at all.
Now, if he only followed the wise example set by those ships of thedesert, the camels; and while in port, drank for the thirst past, thethirst present, and the thirst to come--so that he might cross theocean sober; Mad Jack would get along pretty well. Still better, if hewould but eschew brandy altogether; and only drink of the limpidwhite-wine of the rills
and the brooks.
White Jacket; Or, The World on a Man-of-War Page 9
