Chapter 77

THE HOSPITAL IN A MAN-OF-WAR.

After running with a fine steady breeze up to the Line, it fell
calm, and there we lay, three days enchanted on the sea. We were
a most puissant man-of-war, no doubt, with our five hundred men,
Commodore and Captain, backed by our long batteries of thirty-two
and twenty-four pounders; yet, for all that, there we lay rocking,
helpless as an infant in the cradle. Had it only been a gale instead
of a calm, gladly would we have charged upon it with our gallant
bowsprit, as with a stout lance in rest; but, as with man-kind, this
serene, passive foe--unresisting and irresistible--lived it out,
unconquered to the last.

All these three days the heat was excessive; the sun drew the tar
from the seams of the ship; the awnings were spread fore and aft;
the decks were kept constantly sprinkled with water. It was
during this period that a sad event occurred, though not an
unusual one on shipboard. But in order to prepare for its
narration, some account of a part of the ship called the "_sick-
bay_" must needs be presented.

The "_sick-bay_" is that part of a man-of-war where the invalid
seamen are placed; in many respects it answers to a public
hospital ashore. As with most frigates, the sick-bay of the
Neversink was on the berth-deck--the third deck from above. It
was in the extreme forward part of that deck, embracing the
triangular area in the bows of the ship. It was, therefore, a
subterranean vault, into which scarce a ray of heaven's glad
light ever penetrated, even at noon.

In a sea-going frigate that has all her armament and stores on
board, the floor of the berth-deck is partly below the surface of
the water. But in a smooth harbour, some circulation of air is
maintained by opening large auger-holes in the upper portion of
the sides, called "air-ports," not much above the water level.
Before going to sea, however, these air-ports must be closed,
caulked, and the seams hermetically sealed with pitch. These
places for ventilation being shut, the sick-bay is entirely
barred against the free, natural admission of fresh air. In the
Neversink a few lungsful were forced down by artificial means.
But as the ordinary _wind-sail_ was the only method adopted, the
quantity of fresh air sent down was regulated by the force of the
wind. In a calm there was none to be had, while in a severe gale
the wind-sail had to be hauled up, on account of the violent
draught flowing full upon the cots of the sick. An open-work
partition divided our sick-bay from the rest of the deck, where
the hammocks of the watch were slung; it, therefore, was exposed
to all the uproar that ensued upon the watches being relieved.

An official, called