Transhipped to H.M.S. Queen (98)—Sailors’ appreciation of books—The ship runs aground and sinks: with difficulty raised—A mock court-martial on the master—Author made lieutenant with a commission on a twenty-four-gun ship.

After completing our water and stores, we sailed, and made the circuit of St. Domingo, and a month afterwards returned to Port Royal, where we found the dignity ladies looking as blooming as black roses, and as it was understood that we were to be paid prize money, a general invitation was given to all the wardroom officers to a grand ball two days after our arrival; for be it known to you, gentle reader, that humble mids are never invited to dignity balls of the first class, which are given by the mustees and quadroons. Some of these ladies are beautifully formed, with handsome features. The second class generally consist of mulattos and blacks; these last are the most numerous; the mids at their balls are quite at home, and call for sangaree and porter-cup in first style.

At this period I had served my six years within a few months, when the captain sent for me, and told me he intended sending me on board the flag-ship on promotion. “I send you there,” added he, [pg 115]“beforehand, that you may have the opportunity of becoming known to the commander-in-chief, that at the expiration of your time you may be more immediately under his notice and be sure of your promotion.” I thanked him sincerely for his kind intention, and the following morning behold me, bed and traps, ensconced in the starboard midshipman’s berth—one of the darkest holes of a cockpit I ever was yet in—on board the Queen, a ninety-eight gun ship. My messmates, ten in number, were the poorest of all poor mids. I was welcomed to the mess by the master’s mate, who held in his hand a dirty, empty bottle, with a farthing candle lighted in the neck of it. “Take care,” said he, “you don’t break your shins over the youngsters’ chests.” “Thank you,” said I; “but I always thought a flag-ship’s cockpit too well regulated to have chests athwartships.” “Why, to tell you the truth,” replied he, “those d——d youngsters are so often changing ships, being here to-day and promoted to-morrow, that it is impossible to keep either chests, mess or them in anything like order. I wish they were all at the devil.” “Amen,” responded a person in the berth, whose nose was looming out of a hazy darkness, “for, d——n them,” he continued, “they have eaten all the cheese and have had a good swig at my rum-bottle, but I’ll lay a point to windward of them yet.” These two hard officers were both old standards. The last who spoke was the mate of the hold, and the other of the lower deck. One [pg 116]had seen thirty-five and the other thirty-nine summers. The hope of a lieutenant’s commission they had given up in despair, and were now looking out for a master’s warrant. They were both brought up in the merchant service, and had entered the Navy at the beginning of the war as quarter-masters, and by their steady conduct were made master’s mates, a situation which requires some considerable tact. The greater portion of my hopeful brother officers were from eighteen to twenty years of age. Their toast in a full bumper of grog of an evening was usually, “A bloody war and a sickly season.” Some few were gentlemanly, but the majority were every-day characters—when on deck doing little, and when below doing less. Books they had very few or none; as an instance of it, we had only one, except the Hamilton Moore’s and the Nautical Almanack, among ten of us, and that was “Extracts from the Poets.” One of the mates above mentioned, seeing me moping with the blue devils, brought it me. “Here,” said he, “is a book nobody reads. I have looked into it myself, but there is so much dry stuff in it, that it makes my grog go too fast; but,” added he, “‘Dry’ is put under that part, so you can skip over it.” Now, reader, the most beautiful passages of this neglected book were from Dryden. The mate, happy, ignorant man, imagined, in his wisdom, that where the abridgment of this poet’s name was placed, it was to indicate to the reader that the poetry was dry and not worth [pg 117]reading. Oh, Ignorance, thou art sometimes bliss, but in the present instance it were not folly to be wise! I attempted to take the Irish half-crown out of his mind by comparing some of Dryden’s passages with the others, and he was as much convinced as a cable-tier coiling and stowing-hold officer is generally capable of being, that the “Dry” poetry was the best.

The captain of this ship was from the north, I believe, strictly moral and as strict in discipline, admirably economical, and as regular in his habits as any old-clothes man in Monmouth Street. He kept all the cockpitonians on the qui vive, and as every recommendation went through him to the admiral it was but good policy for the mids to be on the alert. As all the lieutenants were constantly changing, those promoted making room for others, I shall not describe their characters, except noticing that the generality of them were good officers and gentlemen. A month after I joined we were ordered to sail, and on going out of Port Royal Roads we struck with great force on a sand bank called the Turtle Head. The master, who was as ignorant as he was conceited, had taken charge of the ship before she was out of pilot water, and in less than half an hour after the pilot left us she struck. As we were still in sight of the vessels at Port Royal, we made the signal for assistance, and soon afterwards saw a frigate and a store ship coming out towards us. The sea breeze began to set in, which drove us more on the shoal, notwithstanding [pg 118]that we had carried out two anchors ahead. At length she thumped so violently that we jumped at least a foot high from the deck. I could not refrain from smiling to see the captain and officers with serious, long, anxious faces, cutting capers against their will. The rudder and false keel soon parted company, and we all expected to see the masts jerked out of their steps. On sounding the well we found the ship making water rapidly. The pumps were set to work, but in vain. She soon sank in three fathoms and a half water, and we had eighteen feet of water in the hold. The frigate and store ship, with some smaller vessels, had anchored as near us as they could with safety. The small craft came alongside and took out our guns and stores, and one hundred additional men were sent on board us to work the pumps. Pumps were also sent from the dockyard, and were introduced into the hold through the decks, which had been scuttled for that purpose. On the morning of the third day we had got everything, except the lower masts and bowsprit, on board the lighters, and by the exertions of the men at the pumps, which had been incessant for three days and nights, we had lightened her, and she floated off the shoal. The frigate took us in tow, and in three hours afterwards we were lashed alongside the dockyard. The fatigue and want of rest, for not a single hammock had been piped down during the time the ship was on shore, threw about fifty men into the sick list, and several of them died at the hospital afterwards. [pg 119]The seamen of the fleet in general had a great aversion to go to the hospital, and when ill used to entreat the doctor not to send them there. It was said of the matrons, which did not redound to their credit if true, that when a seaman died, and was reported to them, they exclaimed: “Poor fellow! bring me his bag, and mind everything belonging to him is put into it.” This they considered their perquisite. Surely this is wrong and robbery! Ah, Mr. Hume! why were you a puling, helpless babe at that time? Had you been a man and known it, you would have called for reformation and been the seaman’s friend.

We had now a difficult and arduous duty to perform, which was to heave the ship down keel out. I was stationed on the lower deck with a party of thirty seamen to keep the chain pumps going as long as they would work—that is, until the ship was nearly on her side. In about twenty minutes she was nearly on her beam ends, when all the temporary stanchions which had been fixed to keep the deck from yielding gave way like a regiment of black militia in chase of Obie, or Three-fingered Jack in the Whee Mountains, when............