- end_line
- 1932
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:36.270Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 1865
- text
- liberal-hearted, lofty-minded, gayer, more jocund, elastic,
adventurous, given to fun and frolic, than the top-men of the fore,
main, and mizzen masts? The reason of their liberal-heartedness was,
that they were daily called upon to expatiate themselves all over the
rigging. The reason of their lofty-mindedness was, that they were high
lifted above the petty tumults, carping cares, and paltrinesses of the
decks below.
And I feel persuaded in my inmost soul, that it is to the fact of my
having been a main-top-man; and especially my particular post being on
the loftiest yard of the frigate, the main-royal-yard; that I am now
enabled to give such a free, broad, off-hand, bird’s-eye, and, more
than all, impartial account of our man-of-war world; withholding
nothing; inventing nothing; nor flattering, nor scandalising any; but
meting out to all—commodore and messenger-boy alike—their precise
descriptions and deserts.
The reason of the mirthfulness of these top-men was, that they always
looked out upon the blue, boundless, dimpled, laughing, sunny sea. Nor
do I hold, that it militates against this theory, that of a stormy day,
when the face of the ocean was black, and overcast, that some of them
would grow moody, and chose to sit apart. On the contrary, it only
proves the thing which I maintain. For even on shore, there are many
people naturally gay and light-hearted, who, whenever the autumnal wind
begins to bluster round the corners, and roar along the chimney-stacks,
straight becomes cross, petulant, and irritable. What is more mellow
than fine old ale? Yet thunder will sour the best nut-brown ever
brewed.
The _Holders_ of our frigate, the Troglodytes, who lived down in the
tarry cellars and caves below the berth-deck, were, nearly all of them,
men of gloomy dispositions, taking sour views of things; one of them
was a blue-light Calvinist. Whereas, the old-sheet-anchor-men, who
spent their time in the bracing sea-air and broad-cast sunshine of the
forecastle, were free, generous-hearted, charitable, and full of
good-will to all hands; though some of them, to tell the truth, proved
sad exceptions; but exceptions only prove the rule.
The “steady-cooks” on the berth-deck, the “steady-sweepers,” and
“steady-spit-box-musterers,” in all divisions of the frigate, fore and
aft, were a narrow-minded set; with contracted souls; imputable, no
doubt, to their groveling duties. More especially was this evinced in
the case of those odious ditchers and night scavengers, the ignoble
“Waisters.”
The members of the band, some ten or twelve in number, who had nothing
to do but keep their instruments polished, and play a lively air now
and then, to stir the stagnant current in our poor old Commodore’s
torpid veins, were the most gleeful set of fellows you ever saw. They
were Portuguese, who had been shipped at the Cape De Verd islands, on
the passage out. They messed by themselves; forming a dinner-party, not
to be exceeded ire mirthfulness, by a club of young bridegrooms, three
months after marriage, completely satisfied with their bargains, after
testing them.
But what made them, now, so full of fun? What indeed but their merry,
martial, mellow calling. Who could he a churl, and play a flageolet?
who mean and spiritless, braying forth the souls of thousand heroes
from his brazen trump? But still more efficacious, perhaps, in
ministering to the light spirits of the band, was the consoling
thought, that should the ship ever go into action, they would be
exempted from the perils of battle. In ships of war, the members of the
“music,” as the band is called, are generally non-combatants; and
mostly ship, with the express understanding, that as soon as the vessel
comes within long gun-shot of an enemy, they shall have the privilege
of burrowing down in the cable-tiers, or sea coal-hole. Which shows
that they are inglorious, but uncommonly sensible fellows.
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