The rest of the crew was woken at 7 am. Above and below deck the shrill, sharp whistles of the boatswain's calls were followed by the bellowed cry of 'All hands, ahoy!' Any seaman not responding rapidly enough was likely to receive a blow from a rattan cane or find his hammock cut down. As the men emerged from their slumbers, more shouts followed - 'Up all hammocks, ahoy!' - and with surprising speed the seamen dressed, lashed up their hammocks and carried them on deck where they were stowed in the hammock nettings along the sides of the upper deck. According to Samuel Leech, 'There is a system even in this arrangement; everything has its appropriate place. Below the beams are all marked; each hammock is marked with a corresponding number, and in the darkest night a sailor will go unhesitatingly to his own hammock. They are also kept exceedingly clean. Every man is provided with two, that while he is scrubbing and cleaning one, he may have another to use.' Breakfast was at 8 and was usually gruel, a form of porridge made from oatmeal. The men were divided up into messes of between eight and twelve men and they ate together, each mess gathered around a table hung from the deck head and seated on benches, barrels or sea chests. One of their number fetched the food and drink from the galley. The rest of the morning followed along the lines described by Captain Hawker: washing clothes or hammocks, and exercising guns and small arms.
If any punishments were due, these took place at 11 am. Their frequency depended on the temperament of the captain, the discipline imposed by the officers, and the mood of the men under their command. The most common form of punishment was flogging and this was meted out for theft, fighting, drunkenness, disobedience, insolence to an officer, gambling, or neglect of duty. The crew were summoned by the ominous cry of All hands ahoy to witness punishment' and everyone assembled on deck. The officers stood by in full uniform, and the marines lined up with muskets and fixed bayonets. A heavy wooden grating from one of the hatches was set up vertically in the waist of the ship and the prisoner, who had been shackled in irons all night, was led out and lashed to the grating by his wrists and ankles. When the captain had read out the charge the prisoner's shirt was stripped off and the boatswain's mate removed the cat-of-nine-tails from the bag in which it had been hidden. At the order from the captain he laid on the first six or twelve lashes. If more lashes had been ordered another boatswain's mate laid on the second dozen. Young sailors watching a flogging for the first time were chilled by the sound of the lashes and horrified by the effect they produced. In the words of Samuel Leech, who had joined the navy at the age of thirteen and spent many years as an ordinary seaman, 'Now two dozen of these dreadful lashes have been inflicted; the lacerated back looks inhuman; it resembles roasted meat burnt nearly black before a scorching fire . . ,'
After witnessing the punishment the seamen returned to their duties, while the sea officers and the midshipmen fetched sextants and prepared to take the noon sight. By noting the angle of the sun at midday and consulting tables they were able to determine the latitude of the ship and by calculating the time difference with Greenwich the longitude, and these would be duly entered in the log-books they were each required to keep. Dinner followed, and an hour or an hour and a half was allowed for this, the main meal of the day. Depending on the cook and the day of the week, this might consist of boiled beef or boiled pork or dried peas and duff, or cheese and duff. It was accompanied by a pint of grog (rum diluted with water). The afternoon was spent on the tasks described by Captain Hawker. In addition to these there was a constant round of cleaning, polishing and repairing to be done: blacking the guns and rigging with a mixture of warm tar and seawater; polishing the brass with brick dust and rags; mending sails; and cleaning cutlasses, pikes, boarding axes, muskets and pistols with greasy rags. Any of these tasks, morning and afternoon, might be interrupted by sail changes, the firing of salutes, or general fleet exercises ordered by the commanding admiral.
Supper was at 4 or 5 pm and three-quarters of an hour was allowed for this meal which was usually whatever was saved from dinner, together with ship's biscuit and another pint of grog. Cocoa or tea were sometimes issued at meals, and, because the drinking water on board was so foul, the men were generally allowed to drink as much beer as they wanted. At 8 or 9 pm the order went out for the men to collect their hammocks, and they bundled them down below, slung them on their hooks and bedded down for the night. The cook extinguished the galley fire and the master-at-arms and his corporals went round the ship to make sure that no lights were left burning.
The daily regime when the ship was at sea did not allow much time for recreation but Sunday afternoons were usually free of duties and on many ships the men had an hour or so of free time in the evening. Some spent the time quietly: they would write letters home, or read; they would tie decorative knots, make ship models, or inscribe pictures on pieces of ivory or walrus tusks. Others would gather on the foredeck to tell each other stories, or sing traditional naval songs and ballads, or celebrate a recent victory with a new song set to an old tune. There was always someone on board who could play the flute or the violin and this provided an opportunity for some dancing which would be more or less energetic depending on the amount of beer which had been consumed. Gambling was forbidden by the Articles of War, but this did not stop many seamen playing with dice or cards for money, and many captains were prepared to turn a blind eye to this.
The music and dancing and singing lifted the men's spirits and for a while they could forget the physical hardships, the monotonous routine, the bad food, the constant cold and wet, and the fact that, until the war ended, they were virtual prisoners on one of His Majesty's ships. As Samuel Leech observed, 'A casual visitor to a man of war, beholding the song, the dance, the revelry of the crew, might judge them to be happy. But I know that these things are often resorted to because they feel miserable, just to drive away dull care.'
FIFTEEN
Cruises in Northern Waters
1807-14
The destruction of the Combined Fleet of France and Spain at Trafalgar confirmed Britain's position as the world's dominant sea power, and for the next hundred years Britain ruled the waves. But for the people of Britain who were mourning the death of Nelson in the autumn of 1805 the future seemed far from secure. Napoleon still had at his disposal a considerable number of French warships and, as he extended his hold over the continent, these were augmented by the navies of Holland and Denmark. Collingwood, and those ships of the Mediterranean fleet which were not too severely damaged by the Battle of Trafalgar, continued to keep watch on Cadiz, Cartagena and Toulon, but the close blockade on Brest was relaxed on the orders of Lord Barham, the First Sea Lord. 'It is to little purpose now,' he wrote, 'to wear out our ships in a fruitless blockade during the winter.'
The dangers of this relaxation soon became apparent. In December 1805 the French fleet at Brest put to sea and headed for the West Indies. The force of eleven ships of the line, four frigates and a corvette posed a serious threat to British merchant convoys until they were tracked down by Admiral Duckworth and defeated off St Domingo on 6 February 1806. This was the last fleet action by French warships in the war against Napoleonic France but there were other dangers to be countered. Privateers continued to operate with considerable success throughout the war. Privateering was a form of warfare at which the French excelled and they constantly harried merchantmen around the coasts of Europe as well as in the West Indies and the Indian Ocean. In February 1809 Lloyds List complained about 'the depredations of the numerous privateers, with which the Channel ... is now infested,' and during the course of that year no fewer than 571 British merchant ships were lost to privateers.