- description
- # CHAPTER XXVIII. RECEPTION FROM THE FRENCHMAN
## Overview
This chapter, titled "CHAPTER XXVIII. RECEPTION FROM THE FRENCHMAN," is a segment of the novel [Omoo: Adventures in the South Seas](arke:01KG8AJ7VM7B8YZ2568YF8PQ5J). It was extracted from the file [omoo.txt](arke:01KG89J1H7Y803CZ7X80F0QFHZ) and is part of the larger collection [Melville Complete Works](arke:01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW). The chapter details the harsh reception and confinement of the narrator and his companions after being taken aboard a frigate.
## Context
This chapter follows [CHAPTER XXVII. A GLANCE AT PAPEETEE—WE ARE SENT ABOARD THE FRIGATE](arke:01KG8AJHQ7NGMBY907R6DK1CHJ) and precedes [CHAPTER XXIX. THE REINE BLANCHE](arke:01KG8AJHR3S6CZ17J8EX6P8AFY). The narrative describes the process of being processed and imprisoned on the ship, highlighting the rough treatment and meager provisions.
## Contents
The chapter begins with the narrator and others being paraded on the frigate's gangway and inspected by an "elderly yellow-faced officer." They are then counted, handed over to sailor-soldiers, and escorted to the berth-deck. There, they are handcuffed and their feet are shackled to a bar bolted to the deck. The narrator notes the meager and unappetizing food, described as "oleaginous warm water," and the subsequent tossing of oranges by a sympathetic sailor. The chapter also recounts a scene of brutal punishment administered by a boatswain's mate to two boys, which is interrupted by a midshipman. The narrator's companion, Navy Bob, expresses disdain for the disciplinary methods, comparing them unfavorably to those of the English navy.
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- CHAPTER XXVIII. RECEPTION FROM THE FRENCHMAN
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- CHAPTER XXVIII.
RECEPTION FROM THE FRENCHMAN
In a few moments, we were paraded in the frigate’s gangway; the first
lieutenant—an elderly yellow-faced officer, in an ill-cut coat and
tarnished gold lace—coming up, and frowning upon us.
This gentleman’s head was a mere bald spot; his legs, sticks; in short,
his whole physical vigour seemed exhausted in the production of one
enormous moustache. Old Gamboge, as he was forthwith christened, now
received a paper from the consul; and, opening it, proceeded to compare
the goods delivered with the invoice.
After being thoroughly counted, a meek little midshipman was called,
and we were soon after given in custody to half-a-dozen
sailor-soldiers—fellows with tarpaulins and muskets. Preceded by a
pompous functionary (whom we took for one of the ship’s corporals, from
his ratan and the gold lace on his sleeve), we were now escorted down
the ladders to the berth-deck.
Here we were politely handcuffed, all round; the man with the bamboo
evincing the utmost solicitude in giving us a good fit from a large
basket of the articles of assorted sizes.
Taken by surprise at such an uncivil reception, a few of the party
demurred; but all coyness was, at last, overcome; and finally our feet
were inserted into heavy anklets of iron, running along a great bar
bolted down to the deck. After this, we considered ourselves
permanently established in our new quarters.
“The deuce take their old iron!” exclaimed the doctor; “if I’d known
this, I’d stayed behind.”
“Ha, ha!” cried Flash Jack, “you’re in for it, Doctor Long Ghost.”
“My hands and feet are, any way,” was the reply.
They placed a sentry over us; a great lubber of a fellow, who marched
up and down with a dilapidated old cutlass of most extraordinary
dimensions. From its length, we had some idea that it was expressly
intended to keep a crowd in order—reaching over the heads of
half-a-dozen, say, so as to get a cut at somebody behind.
“Mercy!” ejaculated the doctor with a shudder, “what a sensation it
must be to be killed by such a tool.”
We fasted till night, when one of the boys came along with a couple of
“kids” containing a thin, saffron-coloured fluid, with oily particles
floating on top. The young wag told us this was soup: it turned out to
be nothing more than oleaginous warm water. Such as it was,
nevertheless, we were fain to make a meal of it, our sentry being
attentive enough to undo our bracelets. The “kids” passed from mouth to
mouth, and were soon emptied.
The next morning, when the sentry’s back was turned, someone, whom we
took for an English sailor, tossed over a few oranges, the rinds of
which we afterward used for cups.
On the second day nothing happened worthy of record. On the third, we
were amused by the following scene.
A man, whom we supposed a boatswain’s mate, from the silver whistle
hanging from his neck, came below, driving before him a couple of
blubbering boys, and followed by a whole troop of youngsters in tears.
The pair, it seemed, were sent down to be punished by command of an
officer; the rest had accompanied them out of sympathy.
The boatswain’s mate went to work without delay, seizing the poor
little culprits by their loose frocks, and using a ratan without mercy.
The other boys wept, clasped their hands, and fell on their knees; but
in vain; the boatswain’s mate only hit out at them; once in a while
making them yell ten times louder than ever.
In the midst of the tumult, down comes a midshipman, who, with a great
air, orders the man on deck, and running in among the boys, sets them
to scampering in all directions.
The whole of this proceeding was regarded with infinite scorn by Navy
Bob, who, years before, had been captain of the foretop on board a
line-of-battle ship. In his estimation, it was a lubberly piece of
business throughout: they did things differently in the English navy.
- title
- CHAPTER XXVIII. RECEPTION FROM THE FRENCHMAN