White Jacket | Page 3

war,
besides this division, there are others, rendered indispensable from the
great number of men, and the necessity of precision and discipline. Not
only are particular bands assigned to the three _tops_, but in getting
under weigh, or any other proceeding requiring all hands, particular
men of these bands are assigned to each yard of the tops. Thus, when
the order is given to loose the main-royal, White-Jacket flies to obey it;
and no one but him.
And not only are particular bands stationed on the three decks of the
ship at such times, but particular men of those bands are also assigned
to particular duties. Also, in tacking ship, reefing top-sails, or "coming
to," every man of a frigate's five- hundred-strong, knows his own
special place, and is infallibly found there. He sees nothing else, attends
to nothing else, and will stay there till grim death or an epaulette orders
him away. Yet there are times when, through the negligence of the
officers, some exceptions are found to this rule. A rather serious
circumstance growing out of such a case will be related in some future
chapter.
Were it not for these regulations a man-of-war's crew would be nothing
but a mob, more ungovernable stripping the canvas in a gale than Lord
George Gordon's tearing down the lofty house of Lord Mansfield.
But this is not all. Besides White-Jacket's office as looser of the
main-royal, when all hands were called to make sail; and besides his
special offices, in tacking ship, coming to anchor, etc.; he permanently
belonged to the Starboard Watch, one of the two primary, grand
divisions of the ship's company. And in this watch he was a
maintop-man; that is, was stationed in the main- top, with a number of
other seamen, always in readiness to execute any orders pertaining to
the main-mast, from above the main-yard. For, including the main-yard,
and below it to the deck, the main-mast belongs to another detachment.
Now the fore, main, and mizen-top-men of each watch--Starboard and
Larboard--are at sea respectively subdivided into Quarter Watches;
which regularly relieve each other in the tops to which they may belong;
while, collectively, they relieve the whole Larboard Watch of top-men.
Besides these topmen, who are always made up of active sailors, there
are Sheet-Anchor-men--old veterans all--whose place is on the
forecastle; the fore-yard, anchors, and all the sails on the bowsprit

being under their care.
They are an old weather-beaten set, culled from the most experienced
seamen on board. These are the fellows that sing you "_The Bay of
Biscay Oh!_" and "_Here a sheer hulk lies poor Torn Bowling!_"
"_Cease, rude Boreas, blustering railer!_" who, when ashore, at an
eating-house, call for a bowl of tar and a biscuit. These are the fellows
who spin interminable yarns about Decatur, Hull, and Bainbridge; and
carry about their persons bits of "Old Ironsides," as Catholics do the
wood of the true cross. These are the fellows that some officers never
pretend to damn, however much they may anathematize others. These
are the fellows that it does your soul good to look at;---hearty old
members of the Old Guard; grim sea grenadiers, who, in tempest time,
have lost many a tarpaulin overboard. These are the fellows whose
society some of the youngster midshipmen much affect; from whom
they learn their best seamanship; and to whom they look up as veterans;
if so be, that they have any reverence in their souls, which is not the
case with all midshipmen.
Then, there is the _After-guard_, stationed on the Quarterdeck; who,
under the Quarter-Masters and Quarter-Gunners, attend to the main-sail
and spanker, and help haul the main-brace, and other ropes in the stern
of the vessel.
The duties assigned to the After-Guard's-Men being comparatively
light and easy, and but little seamanship being expected from them,
they are composed chiefly of landsmen; the least robust, least hardy,
and least sailor-like of the crew; and being stationed on the
Quarter-deck, they are generally selected with some eye to their
personal appearance. Hence, they are mostly slender young fellows, of
a genteel figure and gentlemanly address; not weighing much on a rope,
but weighing considerably in the estimation of all foreign ladies who
may chance to visit the ship. They lounge away the most part of their
time, in reading novels and romances; talking over their lover affairs
ashore; and comparing notes concerning the melancholy and
sentimental career which drove them--poor young gentlemen--into the
hard-hearted navy. Indeed, many of them show tokens of having moved
in very respectable society. They always maintain a tidy exterior; and
express an abhorrence of the tar-bucket, into which they are seldom or
never called to dip their digits. And pluming themselves upon the cut of

their trowsers, and the glossiness of their tarpaulins, from the