Herman Melville - White Jacket or, The World on a Man-of-War

"I'll hoist the Commodore's pennant at half-mast that day," sighed the signal-quarter-master.

"And I'll turn my best uniform jacket wrong side out, to keep company with the pennant, old Ensign," sympathetically responded an after-guard's-man.

"Ay, do!" cried a forecastle-man. "I could almost pipe my eye to think on't."

"No grog on de day dat tried men's souls!" blubbered Sunshine, the galley-cook.

"Who would be a _Jankee_ now?" roared a Hollander of the fore- top, more Dutch than sour-crout.

"Is this the _riglar_ fruits of liberty?" touchingly inquired an Irish waister of an old Spanish sheet-anchor-man.

You will generally observe that, of all Americans, your foreign- born citizens are the most patriotic-especially toward the Fourth of July.

But how could Captain Claret, the father of his crew, behold the grief of his ocean children with indifference? He could not. Three days before the anniversary-it still continuing very pleasant weather for these latitudes-it was publicly announced that free permission was given to the sailors to get up any sort of theatricals they desired, wherewith to honour the Fourth.

Now, some weeks prior to the Neversink's sailing from home- nearly three years before the time here spoken of-some of the seamen had clubbed together, and made up a considerable purse, for the purpose of purchasing a theatrical outfit having in view to diversify the monotony of lying in foreign harbours for weeks together, by an occasional display on the boards-though if ever there w-as a continual theatre in the world, playing by night and by day, and without intervals between the acts, a man-of-war is that theatre, and her planks are the _boards_ indeed.

The sailors who originated this scheme had served in other American frigates, where the privilege of having theatricals was allowed to the crew. What was their chagrin, then, when, upon making an application to the Captain, in a Peruvian harbour, for permission to present the much-admired drama of "_The Ruffian Boy_," under the Captain's personal patronage, that dignitary assured them that there were already enough _ruffian boys_ on board, without conjuring up any more from the green-room.

The theatrical outfit, therefore, was stowed down in the bottom of the sailors' bags, who little anticipated _then_ that it would ever be dragged out while Captain Claret had the sway.

But immediately upon the announcement that the embargo was removed, vigorous preparations were at once commenced to celebrate the Fourth with unwonted spirit. The half-deck was set apart for the theatre, and the signal-quarter-master was commanded to loan his flags to decorate it in the most patriotic style.

As the stage-struck portion of the crew had frequently during the cruise rehearsed portions of various plays, to while away the tedium of the night-watches, they needed no long time now to perfect themselves in their parts.

Accordingly, on the very next morning after the indulgence had been granted by the Captain, the following written placard, presenting a broadside of staring capitals, was found tacked against the main-mast on the gun-deck. It was as if a Drury-Lane bill had been posted upon the London Monument.

_Grand Celebration of the Fourth of July_.

_For this time only_.

The managers of the Cape Horn Theatre beg leave to inform

the inhabitants of the Pacific and Southern Oceans that,

on the afternoon of the Fourth of July, 184-, they will

have the honour to present the admired drama of

Commodore Bougee… _Tom Brown, of the Fore-top_.

Captain Spy-glass… _Ned Brace, of the After-Guard_.

Commodore's Cockswain… _Joe Bunk, of the Launch_.

Old Luff… _Quarter-master Coffin._

Mayor…. _Seafull, of the Forecastle_.

Mrs. Lovelorn…. _Long-locks, of the After-Guard_.

Toddy Moll… _Frank Jones_.

Gin and Sugar Sall… _Dick Dash_.

Sailors, Mariners, Bar-keepers, Crimps, Aldermen, Police-officer's, Soldiers, Landsmen generally.

Long live the Commodore!:: Admission Free.

To conclude with the much-admired song by Dibdin,

altered to suit all American Tars, entitled

True Yankee Sailor (in costume), Patrick Flinegan,

Captain of the Head.

Performance to commence with "Hail Columbia," by the Brass

Band. Ensign rises at three bells, P.M. No sailor permitted

to enter in his shirt-sleeves. Good order is expected to be

maintained. The Master-at-arms and Ship's Corporals to be in

attendance to keep the peace.

At the earnest entreaties of the seamen, Lemsford, the gun-deck poet, had been prevailed upon to draw up this bill. And upon this one occasion his literary abilities were far from being underrated, even by the least intellectual person on board. Nor must it be omitted that, before the bill was placarded, Captain Claret, enacting the part of censor and grand chamberlain ran over a manuscript copy of "_The Old Wagon Paid Off_," to see whether it contained anything calculated to breed disaffection against lawful authority among the crew. He objected to some parts, but in the end let them all pass.

The morning of The Fourth-most anxiously awaited-dawned clear and fair. The breeze was steady; the air bracing cold; and one and all the sailors anticipated a gleeful afternoon. And thus was falsified the prophecies of certain old growlers averse to theatricals, who had predicted a gale of wind that would squash all the arrangements of the green-room.

As the men whose regular turns, at the time of the performance, would come round to be stationed in the tops, and at the various halyards and running ropes about the spar-deck, could not be permitted to partake in the celebration, there accordingly ensued, during the morning, many amusing scenes of tars who were anxious to procure substitutes at their posts. Through the day, many anxious glances were cast to windward; but the weather still promised fair.

At last _the people_ were piped to dinner; two bells struck; and soon after, all who could be spared from their stations hurried to the half-deck. The capstan bars were placed on shot-boxes, as at prayers on Sundays, furnishing seats for the audience, while a low stage, rigged by the carpenter's gang, was built at one end of the open space. The curtain was composed of a large ensign, and the bulwarks round about were draperied with the flags of all nations. The ten or twelve members of the brass band were ranged in a row at the foot of the stage, their polished instruments in their hands, while the consequential Captain of the Band himself was elevated upon a gun carriage.

At three bells precisely a group of ward-room officers emerged from the after-hatchway, and seated themselves upon camp-stools, in a central position, with the stars and stripes for a canopy. _That_ was the royal box. The sailors looked round for the Commodore but neither Commodore nor Captain honored _the people_ with their presence.

At the call of a bugle the band struck up _Hail Columbia_, the whole audience keeping time, as at Drury Lane, when _God Save The King_ is played after a great national victory.

At the discharge of a marine's musket the curtain rose, and four sailors, in the picturesque garb of Maltese mariners, staggered on the stage in a feigned state of intoxication. The truthfulness of the representation was much heightened by the roll of the ship.