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- 11178
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- CHAPTER LXX.
MONTHLY MUSTER ROUND THE CAPSTAN.
Besides general quarters, and the regular morning and evening quarters
for prayers on board the Neversink, on the first Sunday of every month
we had a grand “_muster round the capstan_,” when we passed in solemn
review before the Captain and officers, who closely scanned our frocks
and trowsers, to see whether they were according to the Navy cut. In
some ships, every man is required to bring his bag and hammock along
for inspection.
This ceremony acquires its chief solemnity, and, to a novice, is
rendered even terrible, by the reading of the Articles of War by the
Captain’s clerk before the assembled ship’s company, who in testimony
of their enforced reverence for the code, stand bareheaded till the
last sentence is pronounced.
To a mere amateur reader the quiet perusal of these Articles of War
would be attended with some nervous emotions. Imagine, then, what _my_
feelings must have been, when, with my hat deferentially in my hand, I
stood before my lord and master, Captain Claret, and heard these
Articles read as the law and gospel, the infallible, unappealable
dispensation and code, whereby I lived, and moved, and had my being on
board of the United States ship Neversink.
Of some twenty offences—made penal—that a seaman may commit, and which
are specified in this code, thirteen are punishable by death.
“_Shall suffer death!_” This was the burden of nearly every Article
read by the Captain’s clerk; for he seemed to have been instructed to
omit the longer Articles, and only present those which were brief and
to the point.
“_Shall suffer death!_” The repeated announcement falls on your ear
like the intermitting discharge of artillery. After it has been
repeated again and again, you listen to the reader as he deliberately
begins a new paragraph; you hear him reciting the involved, but
comprehensive and clear arrangement of the sentence, detailing all
possible particulars of the offence described, and you breathlessly
await, whether _that_ clause also is going to be concluded by the
discharge of the terrible minute-gun. When, lo! it again booms on your
ear—_shall suffer death!_ No reservations, no contingencies; not the
remotest promise of pardon or reprieve; not a glimpse of commutation of
the sentence; all hope and consolation is shut out—_shall suffer
death!_ that is the simple fact for you to digest; and it is a tougher
morsel, believe White-Jacket when he says it, than a forty-two-pound
cannon-ball.
But there is a glimmering of an alternative to the sailor who infringes
these Articles. Some of them thus terminates: “_Shall suffer death, or
such punishment as a court-martial shall adjudge_.” But hints this at a
penalty still more serious? Perhaps it means “_death, or worse
punishment_.”
Your honours of the Spanish Inquisition, Loyola and Torquemada!
produce, reverend gentlemen, your most secret code, and match these
Articles of War, if you can. Jack Ketch, _you_ also are experienced in
these things! Thou most benevolent of mortals, who standest by us, and
hangest round our necks, when all the rest of this world are against
us—tell us, hangman, what punishment is this, horribly hinted at as
being worse than death? Is it, upon an empty stomach, to read the
Articles of War every morning, for the term of one’s natural life? Or
is it to be imprisoned in a cell, with its walls papered from floor to
ceiling with printed copies, in italics, of these Articles of War?
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