Medical Life in the Navy, Gordon Stables [classic fiction .txt] 📗

last and put on the sick-list; he

had borne his punishment without a groan and without moving a muscle. A

large pet monkey sat crunching nuts in the rigging, and grinning all the

time; I have no doubt _he_ enjoyed the spectacle immensely, _for he was

only an ape_.

 

Tommie G--was a pretty, fair-skinned, blue-eyed boy, some sixteen

summers old. He was one of a class only too common in the service;

having become enamoured of the sea, he had run away from his home and

joined the service; and, poor little man! he found out, when too late,

that the stern realities of a sailor's life did not at all accord with

the golden notions he had formed of it. Being fond of stowing himself

away in corners with a book, instead of keeping his watch, Tommie very

often got into disgrace, spent much of his time at the mast-head, and

had many unpleasant palmar rencounters with the corporal's cane. One

day, his watch being over, he had retired to a corner with his little

"ditty-box."

 

Nobody ever knew one-half of the beloved nicknacks and valued nothings

he kept in that wee box: it was in fact his private cabin, his sanctum

sanctorum, to which he could retreat when anything vexed him; a sort of

portable home, in which he could forget the toils of his weary watch,

the giddy mast-head, or even the corporal's cane. He had extracted, and

was dreamily gazing on, the portrait of a very young lady, when the

corporal came up and rudely seized it, and made a very rough and

inelegant remark concerning the fair virgin.

 

"That is my sister," cried Tommie, with tears in his eyes.

 

"Your sister!" sneered the corporal; "she is a--" and he added a word

that cannot be named. There was the spirit of young England, however,

in Tommie's breast; and the word had scarcely crossed the corporal's

lips, when those lips, and his nose too, were dyed in the blood the

boy's fist had drawn. For that blow poor Tommie was condemned to

receive four dozen lashes. And the execution of the sentence was

carried out with all the pomp and show usual on such occasions. Arrayed

in cooked-hats, epaulets, and swords, we all assembled to witness that

helpless child in his agony. One would have thought that even the rough

bo'swain's mate would have hesitated to disfigure skin so white and

tender, or that the frightened and imploring glance Tommie cast upward

on the first descending lash would have unnerved his arm. Did it? No,

reader; pity there doubtless was among us, but mercy--none. Oh! we were

a brave band. And the poor boy writhed in his agony; his screams and

cries were heartrending; and, God forgive us! we knew not till then he

was an orphan, till we heard him beseech his mother in heaven to look

down on her son, to pity and support him. Ah! well, perhaps she did,

for scarcely had the third dozen commenced when Tommie's cries were

hushed, his head drooped on his shoulder like a little dead bird's, and

for a while his sufferings were at an end. I gladly took the

opportunity to report further proceedings as dangerous, and he was

carried away to his hammock.

 

I will not shock the nerves and feelings of the reader by any further

relation of the horrors of flogging, merely adding, that I consider

corporal punishment, as applied to men, _cowardly, cruel_, and debasing

to human nature; and as applied to boys, _brutal_, and sometimes even

_fiendish_. There is only one question I wish to ask of every

true-hearted English lady who may read these lines--Be you sister, wife,

or mother, could you in your heart have respected the commander who,

with folded arms and grim smile, replied to poor Tommie's frantic

appeals for mercy, "Continue the punishment"?

 

The pay of medical officers is by no means high enough to entice young

doctors, who can do anything like well on shore, to enter the service.

Ten shillings a day, with an increase of half-a-crown after five years'

service on full pay, is not a great temptation certainly. To be sure

the expenses of living are small, two shillings a day being all that is

paid for messing; this of course not including the wine-bill, the size

of which will depend on the "drouthiness" of the officer who contracts

Government provides all mess-traps, except silver forks and spoons.

Then there is uniform to keep up, and shore-going clothes to be paid

for, and occasionally a shilling or two for boat-hire. However, with a

moderate wine-bill, the assistant-surgeon may save about four shillings

or more a day.

 

Promotion to the rank of surgeon, unless to some fortunate individuals,

comes but slowly; it may, however, be reckoned on after from eight to

ten years. A few gentlemen out of each "batch" who "pass" into the

service, and who have distinguished themselves at the examination, are

promoted sooner.

 

It seems to be the policy of the present Director-General to deal as

fairly as possible with every assistant-surgeon, after a certain

routine. On first joining he is sent for a short spell--too short,

indeed--to a hospital. He is then appointed to a sea-going ship for a

commission--say three years--on a foreign station. On coming home he is

granted a few months' leave on full pay, and is afterwards appointed to

a harbour-ship for about six months. By the end of this time he is

supposed to have fairly recruited from the fatigues of his commission

abroad; he is accordingly sent out again to some other foreign station

for three or four years. On again returning to his native land, he

might be justified in hoping for a pet appointment, say to a hospital,

the marines, a harbour-ship, or, failing these, to the Channel fleet.

On being promoted he is sent off abroad again, and so on; and thus he

spends his useful life, and serves his Queen and country, and earns his

pay, and generally spends that likewise.

 

Pensions are granted to the widows of assistant-surgeons--from forty to

seventy pounds a year, according to circumstances; and if he leaves no

widow, a dependent mother, or even sister, may obtain the pension. But

I fear I must give, to assistant-surgeons about to many, Punch's advice,

and say most emphatically, "Don't;" unless, indeed, the dear creature

has money, and is able to purchase a practice for her darling doctor.

 

With a little increase of pay ungrudgingly given, shorter commissions

abroad, and less of the "bite and buffet" about favours granted, the

navy would be a very good service for the medical officer.

 

However, as it is, to a man who has neither wife nor riches, it is, I

dare say, as good a way of spending life as any other; and I do think

that there are but few old surgeons who, on looking back to the life

they have led in the navy, would not say of that service,--"With all thy

faults I love thee still."

 

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Publication Date: 04-08-2015

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