Jack Tar

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by Roy Adkins


  Saturday 29th Sep’r [1799]. At daylight saw a strange sail; at 7am spoke* her close in under Monserrat. She proved to be an Antigua privateer called the Scourge … said that Captain Mitford of the Matilda was dangerous ill. This is good news for the first lieutenant of the Prince of Wales, and also for Masters and Commanders, as should Mitford die, the first Lieutenant of the Prince of Wales will be made a Master and Commander, and put into a Sloop of War, and the Captain of that Sloop of War will be put into the Matilda, which makes him a Post Captain.76

  Most captains who commanded ships were post-captains, but some smaller ships were put in the charge of lieutenants or even midshipmen, who then held the temporary rank of commander. They were addressed as ‘captain’ out of courtesy despite them being of lower rank than a post-captain. Unfortunately for those concerned, Captain Henry Mitford recovered from his illness.

  If he survived long enough, any post-captain could eventually become an admiral. The disadvantage of being a post-captain (or other senior officer) was the loneliness. Although officers did not fraternise with the crew, they could socialise with their fellow officers in their own and other ships, but the captain had to remain aloof. He might frequently dine with his officers, but there was always a distance between them. The men in the ship belonged within distinct groups according to their rank, with the captain at their head, which broadly mirrored the class structure of British society at the time. Early in his career, Nelson agreed with a saying common among the seamen – ‘Aft the most honour, but forward the better man’.77 This implied that officers (stationed aft) did not live up to their exalted positions. Later he held the view, not necessarily inconsistent with his earlier thoughts, that ‘you must be a Seaman to be an Officer; and also that you cannot be a good Officer without being a Gentleman’.78 According to Basil Hall, the seamen despised bad-mannered officers who had risen from the ranks – the tarpaulins:

  The sailors, who, from being very quick-sighted to the merits and faults of their officers … [and being] critics of great correctness, understand at once the distinction between a well-bred or high-caste officer, and one who, not having been born in a class where good manners are an essential characteristic, has not contrived to adopt them from others. A ship’s company like, above all things, to be commanded by gentlemen; while there is nothing they so much hate or despise in an officer as that coarseness of thought and behaviour which marks their own class.79

  Of course, Hall was himself an officer and a gentleman, which may have led him to overstate the case, but such distinctions were widely held to be essential for good discipline, and Midshipman William Dillon, an inveterate snob, disapproved of his new captain because he brought with him several of his own men: ‘Some of the Mids did not cut much of a figure as gentlemen,’ he remarked. ‘They were rough seamen “from before the mast,” as the naval term goes.’80 A few years later, in 1809, Dillon took temporary command of HMS Aigle, so that the ship’s captain could appear as a witness at a lengthy court martial, and he found the hierarchy of that ship too lax:

  On the first day that I went on board I had noticed one or two seamen entering the cabin with as much freedom as if in their own homes, and speak to their Captain in the most familiar tones. He seemed to encourage all that, as he styled them Tom, Jack, Bill etc. My plan of proceeding was diametrically opposed to this, my opinion being that familiarity breeds contempt, and the officer in command ought, by his conduct to all under him, to insure respect. There is a certain deportment which, regulated by firmness and moderation, never fails to produce its object. Upon that principle, I avoided abusive language, but never failed to rebuke the negligent.81

  This self-imposed isolation on board a cramped and crowded ship took its toll of captains, some of whom went insane. James Scott, who became a captain, summed up the stressful situation:

  It strikes me that the difficulties of the position of a captain of a man-ofwar are neither fairly nor candidly considered, and that they are too often only abstractedly discussed. It requires no slight command of temper, integrity of purpose, vigour of mind, and abnegation of self, to blend together and harmonise the jarring elements of the different dispositions and habits of the men who may compose his crew. However at variance these may be, he – and he alone – is expected, and exhorted, to bring a set of unruly and discordant beings into a state of perfect discipline and obedience, so that their services in the hour of danger or battle shall be prompt and effective: such as the glory of the country, the credit of the captain, and the safety of the ship may be staked upon.82

  A rare glimpse of what ordinary seamen thought of this class divide is provided by Aaron Thomas, who was a fairly well-educated man and served as coxswain and steward to his captain. He was in a unique position, being on easy terms with the crew as well as the captain and able to see the situation of both. In one letter to a friend, who appears to have urged him to try for a post as a purser, he cynically wrote:

  Now was I a Purser, the moment I became one, I must bid advice [heed advice against] … ever saying a civil word, or ever giving a civil look, to any one of the men before the mast, in presence of a superior officer, for it is held in the Navy to be a proof of something shocking and bad to speak to the men with civility, and if you do do it, your promotion is damned. Now for my part, I never am more happier than when conversing with my inferiors, for from them I learn more of life than I do by conversing with officers, whose general talk is to abuse high and low, or everybody whom they know – besides [this], let my ideas be what they will, I can never give [them utterance], but on general sentiment [only in general terms] at the wardroom or gunroom table, and at the Captain’s table I must set [sit] 3 hours to hear him talk of himself, and must never contradict a word he utters, but nod yes to everything he says – and do not you think this forced tacitity is paying very dear for a plate of mutton, a tumbler of porter and six glasses of wine?83

  As well as his own officers, the captain also commanded the marines on board, although they had their own officers and career structure. Because one of the purposes of the marines was to form a buffer between the officers and the men in case of mutiny, relations could become very bad, although if a mutiny did erupt there were likely to be divided loyalties among the marines as well as among the seamen, and in well-run ships camaraderie existed between seamen and marines. Daniel Goodall left the navy in 1802 during the peace, but joined up as a marine in 1805. Initially, he was put on board a guardship to await a transfer to Chatham for training, and received much better treatment than when he volunteered as a seaman: ‘My advent in the guardship as a marine recruit was of a very different nature to my first experience as a volunteer in the naval service, for all of the new hands were at once put into the regular messes of the marines on board, and everything was done that the nature of our rather limited arrangements would admit of to make us comfortable.’84

  Training of marines largely consisted of drilling and instruction in the use and care of weapons. The amount of basic training marines received on shore, before being assigned to a ship, depended on the number of vacancies on board the ships. Some marines were sent to sea with very little training, but however much knowledge of life as a marine they had acquired, leaving the land could still be a shock, as Thomas Rees remembered: ‘I had never been to sea before, and as the land began to disappear from my view, and when I could no longer distinguish it, my heart sunk within me, and it seemed as if I should be distracted by grief; so sad and so dismal were the thoughts which crowded into my mind, of the dear country and home I had left, and beloved relations and friends I might never meet again.’85 Rees soon recovered from his initial despondency, probably because he was kept busy.

  As one of a party of newly recruited marines, Goodall and his companions were first set to slinging (hanging) their hammocks, which proved a more difficult task than he expected:

  There were perhaps as many as nine of the party, certainly not more, who knew how to set about it, but even those of the
number who had slung hammocks once-a-fortnight for years, as is the practice in all well-regulated ships, were floored at the very outset by the discovery that the whole of the clews or cords by which the hammocks were to be suspended had first to be made out of rope yarns, and as even the nimblest fingers cannot make a set of passable clews out of such stuff in less than twenty-four hours, the case really began to look desperate.86

  Fortunately the captain was not a hard taskmaster, Goodall said, and he remarked to the first lieutenant ‘that many of us seemed but young hands, with probably little or no experience in such work, and he added that those who knew the duties should aid and instruct those who were ignorant, reasonable time being allowed us’.87

  Marine captains were equal in rank to a naval lieutenant and tended to be referred to as ‘major’ to avoid confusion with the ship’s captain. It was rare for a marine officer higher in rank than captain to serve on board a ship, and they were only present on board the larger ships that carried fifty guns or more. In smaller ships, such as frigates, marines were usually commanded by a first lieutenant of marines. If a ship was too small to warrant a first lieutenant of marines, they were commanded by a sergeant, even though there was a rank of second lieutenant of marines. Below the rank of sergeant was that of corporal and finally private. Being regarded as somewhere between the army and the navy, the prospect of promotion in the marines was more limited than in the other services. Privates in the marines had little hope of advancement, and even captains of marines were in a difficult position. They received higher pay than a naval lieutenant, and yet had less authority, and when it came to battles the naval first lieutenant was frequently promoted on the death of the captain. In the event of a great victory, every first lieutenant involved was usually promoted, but marine officers were ignored.

  Between the naval officers and the seamen were the petty officers. Some were warrant officers, so called because they held a warrant from the Admiralty, and these men were generally specialists in a particular trade. The master (or sailing master) was responsible for the navigation and sailing of the ship and was the most well-paid and senior of the warrant officers. Others included the carpenter, boatswain, gunner, purser and surgeon. The boatswain was in charge of keeping the rigging and sails in good order, in the same way that the carpenter looked after the hull, masts and yards, while the gunner had charge of the cannons and gunpowder, and the purser was responsible for the ship’s stores. Even within the group of warrant officers there was a strict hierarchy, which varied slightly according to the size of ship. Some, such as the master, were entitled to walk on the quarterdeck and live in the wardroom, since they were regarded as the equivalent of commissioned officers, while others had the privilege of using the gun room. The lowest level of warrant officer included the ship’s cook, sailmaker and armourer. They were regarded as equivalent to those petty officers, like the sailmaker’s mate, who held no warrant but were appointed by the captain.

  From top to bottom the whole ship’s company was highly stratified in a formal hierarchy, with men at each level jealously guarding their privileges, but this hierarchy was due to navy regulations. As Basil Hall put it, ‘there is no such thing as a privileged class in the navy. All ranks and orders are alike in respect to the discipline.’88 A boy might expect to become an able seaman, and then possibly gain promotion to a petty officer rank without a warrant, perhaps as a quarter gunner, which was better paid. In broad terms the hierarchy paralleled British society on land, but within the navy there was definitely more social mobility, although it was midshipmen from the middle classes who had the best chance of improving their wealth and status.

  The regulations that governed the ranks and duties of everyone on board even covered religion, as the American Joseph Bates found when he was pressed on board a British warship in 1810: ‘When I was asked, “Of what religion are you?” I replied, “A Presbyterian.” But I was now given to understand that there was no religious toleration on board the king’s war ships. “Only one denomination here – away with you to church!”.’89 His comment was quite literally true, because commissioned officers were subject to the Test Act. On being promoted to lieutenant they were sworn in, as James Gardner, looking back on his career in 1836, commented: ‘We can now realise what a very real thing the Test Act of 1673 was, and continued to be, till its repeal in 1828. It required “all persons holding any office of profit or trust, civil or military, under the crown, to take the oaths of allegiance and supremacy, receive the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper according to the rites of the Church of England, and subscribe to the declaration against transubstantiation”.’90

  This Act excluded men of other religions, such as Roman Catholics and Jews, from becoming officers unless they gave up their religion. The Act did not apply to the seamen, and non-Protestants were frequently pressed into the navy and then expected to cope with the conditions, such as compulsory attendance at church services aboard ship and the issuing of pork as the meat ration. Captains were required to hold church services, but the frequency of such services depended not only on circumstances such as weather, but also on the religious convictions of the captain or admiral in command – some were evangelical, but most were not. Joseph Bates took a disparaging view of the religious services on board his ship:

  When the weather was pleasant, the quarter-deck was fitted with awnings, flags, benches, &c., for meeting. At 11 a.m. came the order from the officer of the deck … ‘Boatswain’s mate!’ ‘Sir’ ‘Call all hands to church! Hurry them up there!’ These mates were required to carry a piece of rope in their pocket with which to start [beat] the sailors. Immediately their stentorian voices were heard sounding on the other decks, ‘Away up to church there – every soul of you – and take your prayer books with you!’ If any one felt disinclined to such a mode of worship, and attempted to evade the loud call to church, then look out for the men with the rope! … The officers, before taking their seats, unbuckled their swords and dirks, and piled them on the head of the capstan in the midst of the worshipping assembly, all ready to grasp them in a moment, if necessary, before the hour’s service should close. When the benediction was pronounced, the officers clinched their side arms, and buckled them on for active service. The quarter-deck was immediately cleared, and the floating bethel again became the same old weekly war ship for six days and twenty-three hours more. Respecting the church service, the chaplain, or in his absence, the captain, reads from the prayer book, and the officers and sailors respond … King George III not only assumed the right to impress American seamen to man his war ships, and fight his unjust battles, but he also required them to attend his church, and learn to respond to his preachers.91

  The seaman George Watson, on board the Fame warship in 1808, under Captain Richard Bennett, said that while they were refitting at Minorca,

  we had divine service every Sunday, by signal from Lord Collingwood, who always maintained that important duty, at sea or in port, when circumstances would permit … In our ship Captain B. officiated as Chaplain, as we had not any on board, and performed the duty with a good grace, and was very strict in compelling every man of the vessel to attend, though many would rather excuse themselves, and often did so, by going aloft, or in other parts of the ship, where duty seemed to call them, to avoid being at prayers, and some when they mustered with the rest at church, would, instead of their prayer book, take some old popular history, or perhaps a song book with them, to which they devoted their attention; as for myself I always attended cheerfully enough, though not from proper motives, wishing only to be seen there by the Captain and others, and often instead of directing my thoughts to heaven, they were chiefly fixed … on Miss I., our commander’s mistress, who generally sat looking at us from the windows under the poop – so much for my piety!92

  Some officers like Captain James Gambier did all they could to convert their crews to religion, though few appreciated such efforts. In 1793 on board the Defence, William Dillon thought that Gambier was too fan
atical: ‘It was the established custom to allow the seamen to go, when at anchor, to see them [other ships] on a Sunday, no work going on on that day: whereas, when seamen came to us on the Sabbath, they were not admitted, being told that we were at prayers … By this regulation of Capt. Gambier’s we became an exclusive ship in the Fleet, and the seamen styled him “Preaching Jemmy.”’93 Like George Watson, some of Gambier’s seamen used the church service to attract his attention: ‘Several of the seamen had the tact to place themselves in a conspicuous position at church, and put on the most solemn countenances during the Service. These men were noticed by the Captain, who in due time obtained for them some snug berths.’94

 

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