THE FRIGATE IN HARBOUR.--THE BOATS.--GRAND STATE RECEPTION OF THE
COMMODORE.
In good time we were up with the parallel of Rio de Janeiro, and,
standing in for the land, the mist soon cleared; and high aloft
the famed Sugar Loaf pinnacle was seen, our bowsprit pointing for
it straight as a die.
As we glided on toward our anchorage, the bands of the various
men-of-war in harbour saluted us with national airs, and gallantly
lowered their ensigns. Nothing can exceed the courteous etiquette
of these ships, of all nations, in greeting their brethren. Of all
men, your accomplished duellist is generally the most polite.
We lay in Rio some weeks, lazily taking in stores and otherwise
preparing for the passage home. But though Rio is one of the most
magnificent bays in the world; though the city itself contains
many striking objects; and though much might be said of the Sugar
Loaf and Signal Hill heights; and the little islet of Lucia; and
the fortified Ihla Dos Cobras, or Isle of the Snakes (though the
only anacondas and adders now found in the arsenals there are
great guns and pistols); and Lord Wood's Nose--a lofty eminence
said by seamen to resemble his lordship's conch-shell; and the
Prays do Flamingo--a noble tract of beach, so called from its
having been the resort, in olden times, of those gorgeous birds;
and the charming Bay of Botofogo, which, spite of its name, is
fragrant as the neighbouring Larangieros, or Valley of the
Oranges; and the green Gloria Hill, surmounted by the belfries of
the queenly Church of Nossa Senora de Gloria; and the iron-gray
Benedictine convent near by; and the fine drive and promenade,
Passeo Publico; and the massive arch-over-arch aqueduct, Arcos de
Carico; and the Emperor's Palace; and the Empress's Gardens; and
the fine Church de Candelaria; and the gilded throne on wheels,
drawn by eight silken, silver-belled mules, in which, of pleasant
evenings, his Imperial Majesty is driven out of town to his
Moorish villa of St. Christova--ay, though much might be said of
all this, yet must I forbear, if I may, and adhere to my one
proper object, _the world in a man-of-war_.
Behold, now, the Neversink under a new aspect. With all her
batteries, she is tranquilly lying in harbour, surrounded by
English, French, Dutch, Portuguese, and Brazilian seventy-fours,
moored in the deep-green water, close under the lee of that
oblong, castellated mass of rock, Ilha Dos Cobras, which, with
its port-holes and lofty flag-staffs, looks like another man-of-
war, fast anchored in the way. But what is an insular fortress,
indeed, but an embattled land-slide into the sea from the world
Gibraltars and Quebecs? And what a main-land fortress but a few
decks of a line-of-battle ship transplanted ashore? They are all
one--all, as King David, men-of-war from their youth.
Ay, behold now the Neversink at her anchors, in many respects
presenting a different appearance from what she presented at sea.
Nor is the routine of life on board the same.
At sea there is more to employ the sailors, and less temptation to
violations of the law. Whereas, in port, unless some particular
service engages them, they lead the laziest of lives, beset by all
the allurements of the shore, though perhaps that shore they may
never touch.
Unless you happen to belong to one of the numerous boats, which,
in a man-of-war in harbour, are continually plying to and from
the land, you are mostly thrown upon your own resources to while
away the time. Whole days frequently pass without your being
individually called upon to lift a finger; for though, in the
merchant-service, they make a point of keeping the men always
busy about something or other, yet, to employ five hundred
sailors when there is nothing definite to be done wholly
surpasses the ingenuity of any First Lieutenant in the Navy.
As mention has just been made of the numerous boats employed in
harbour, something more may as well be put down concerning them.
Our frigate carried a very large boat--as big as a small sloop--
called a _launch_, which was generally used for getting off wood,
water, and other bulky articles. Besides this, she carried four
boats of an arithmetical progression in point of size--the largest
being known as the first cutter, the next largest the second cutter,
then the third and fourth cutters. She also carried a Commodore's
Barge, a Captain's Gig, and a "dingy," a small yawl, with a crew
of apprentice boys. All these boats, except the "dingy," had their
regular crews, who were subordinate to their cockswains--_petty
officers_, receiving pay in addition to their seaman's wages.
The _launch_ was manned by the old Tritons of the fore-castle, who were
no ways particular about their dress, while the other boats--commissioned
for genteeler duties--were rowed by young follows, mostly, who had a
dandy eye to their personal appearance. Above all, the officers see to
it that the Commodore's Barge and the Captain's Gig are manned by
gentlemanly youths, who may do credit to their country, and form
agreeable objects for the eyes of the Commodore or Captain to repose
upon as he tranquilly sits in the stern, when pulled ashore by his
barge-men or gig-men, as the case may be. Some sailors are very fond of
belonging to the boats, and deem it a great honour to be a _Commodore's
barge-man_; but others, perceiving no particular distinction in that
office, do not court it so much.
On the second day after arriving at Rio, one of the gig-men fell
sick, and, to my no small concern, I found myself temporarily
appointed to his place.
"Come, White-Jacket, rig yourself in white--that's the gig's
uniform to-day; you are a gig-man, my boy--give ye joy!" This was
the first announcement of the fact that I heard; but soon after
it was officially ratified.
I was about to seek the First Lieutenant, and plead the
scantiness of my wardrobe, which wholly disqualified me to fill
so distinguished a station, when I heard the bugler call away the
"gig;" and, without more ado, I slipped into a clean frock, which
a messmate doffed for my benefit, and soon after found myself
pulling off his High Mightiness, the Captain, to an English
seventy-four.
As we were bounding along, the cockswain suddenly cried "Oars!"
At the word every oar was suspended in the air, while our
Commodore's barge floated by, bearing that dignitary himself. At
the sight, Captain Claret removed his chapeau, and saluted
profoundly, our boat lying motionless on the water. But the barge
never stopped; and the Commodore made but a slight return to the
obsequious salute he had received.
We then resumed rowing, and presently I heard "Oars!" again; but
from another boat, the second cutter, which turned out to be
carrying a Lieutenant ashore. If was now Captain Claret's turn to
be honoured. The cutter lay still, and the Lieutenant off hat;
while the Captain only nodded, and we kept on our way.
This naval etiquette is very much like the etiquette at the Grand
Porte of Constantinople, where, after washing the Sublime Sultan's
feet, the Grand Vizier avenges himself on an Emir, who does the same
office for him.
When we arrived aboard the English seventy-four, the Captain was
received with the usual honours, and the gig's crew were conducted
below, and hospitably regaled with some spirits, served out by order
of the officer of the deck.
Soon after, the English crew went to quarters; and as they stood
up at their guns, all along the main-deck, a row of beef-fed
Britons, stalwart-looking fellows, I was struck with the contrast
they afforded to similar sights on board of the Neversink.
For on board of us our "_quarters_" showed an array of rather
slender, lean-checked chaps. But then I made no doubt, that, in a
sea-tussle, these lantern-jawed varlets would have approved
themselves as slender Damascus blades, nimble and flexible;
whereas these Britons would have been, perhaps, as sturdy
broadswords. Yet every one remembers that story of Saladin and
Richard trying their respective blades; how gallant Richard clove
an anvil in twain, or something quite as ponderous, and Saladin
elegantly severed a cushion; so that the two monarchs were even--
each excelling in his way--though, unfortunately for my simile, in a
patriotic point of view, Richard whipped Saladin's armies in the end.
There happened to be a lord on board of this ship--the younger
son of an earl, they told me. He was a fine-looking fellow. I
chanced to stand by when he put a question to an Irish captain of
a gum; upon the seaman's inadvertently saying sir to him, his
lordship looked daggers at the slight; and the sailor touching
his hat a thousand times, said, "Pardon, your honour; I meant to
say _my lord_, sir!"
I was much pleased with an old white-headed musician, who stood
at the main hatchway, with his enormous bass drum full before
him, and thumping it sturdily to the tune of "God Save the King!"
though small mercy did he have on his drum-heads. Two little boys
were clashing cymbals, and another was blowing a fife, with his
cheeks puffed out like the plumpest of his country's plum-puddings.
When we returned from this trip, there again took place that
ceremonious reception of our captain on board the vessel he
commanded, which always had struck me as exceedingly diverting.
In the first place, while in port, one of the quarter-masters is
always stationed on the poop with a spy-glass, to look out for
all boats approaching, and report the same to the officer of the
deck; also, who it is that may be coming in them; so that
preparations may be made accordingly. As soon, then, as the gig
touched the side, a mighty shrill piping was heard, as if some
boys were celebrating the Fourth of July with penny whistles.
This proceeded from a boatswain's mate, who, standing at the
gangway, was thus honouring the Captain's return after his long
and perilous absence.
The Captain then slowly mounted the ladder, and gravely marching
through a lane of "_side-boys_," so called--all in their best
bibs and tuckers, and who stood making sly faces behind his
back--was received by all the Lieutenants in a body, their hats in
their hands, and making a prodigious scraping and bowing, as if
they had just graduated at a French dancing-school. Meanwhile,
preserving an erect, inflexible, and ram-rod carriage, and
slightly touching his chapeau, the Captain made his ceremonious
way to the cabin, disappearing behind the scenes, like the
pasteboard ghost in Hamlet.
But these ceremonies are nothing to those in homage of the
Commodore's arrival, even should he depart and arrive twenty
times a day. Upon such occasions, the whole marine guard, except
the sentries on duty, are marshalled on the quarter-deck,
presenting arms as the Commodore passes them; while their
commanding officer gives the military salute with his sword, as
if making masonic signs. Meanwhile, the boatswain himself--not a
_boatswain's mate_--is keeping up a persevering whistling with
his silver pipe; for the Commodore is never greeted with the rude
whistle of a boatswain's subaltern; _that_ would be positively
insulting. All the Lieutenants and Midshipmen, besides the
Captain himself, are drawn up in a phalanx, and off hat together;
and the _side-boys_, whose number is now increased to ten or
twelve, make an imposing display at the gangway; while the whole
brass band, elevated upon the poop, strike up "See! the
Conquering Hero Comes!" At least, this was the tune that our
Captain always hinted, by a gesture, to the captain of the band,
whenever the Commodore arrived from shore.
It conveyed a complimentary appreciation, on the Captain's part,
of the Commodore's heroism during the late war.
To return to the gig. As I did not relish the idea of being a
sort of body-servant to Captain Claret--since his gig-men were
often called upon to scrub his cabin floor, and perform other
duties for him--I made it my particular business to get rid of my
appointment in his boat as soon as possible, and the next day
after receiving it, succeeded in procuring a substitute, who was
glad of the chance to fill the position I so much undervalued.
And thus, with our counterlikes and dislikes, most of us men-of-
war's-men harmoniously dove-tail into each other, and, by our
very points of opposition, unite in a clever whole, like the
parts of a Chinese puzzle. But as, in a Chinese puzzle, many
pieces are hard to place, so there are some unfortunate fellows
who can never slip into their proper angles, and thus the whole
puzzle becomes a puzzle indeed, which is the precise condition of
the greatest puzzle in the world--this man-of-war world itself.