Gallagher, foremastman of the Iroquois, was shaving under the lee of the pin rail. Gallagher had two fixed and immutable habits. One was to shave every Saturday forenoon after the ship was cleaned up, the other was quarterly liberty, the latter resulting from a regular habit of returning on board drunk and disorderly every time he went ashore.
At his inevitable appearance at the mast the captain always awarded him three months' quarantine, generally at 'Gallagher's own request after he had acknowledged his dereliction in a simple statement something like this: " Captain, I ain't got no business ashore no-how, so if you will keep me aboard three months it won't hurt my feelings and it would sure improve my health." Gallagher always left this court of last resort in a cheerful frame of mind, because his request was always granted, and for three months he would devote himself to his duties.
Night and day, storm or calm, he was always at the pin rail to lead out or belay the gear and to lay up in orderly coils the maze of buntlines, clew-lines, sheets, clew garnets, etc., of which he alone knew the intricate hiding places even in the darkest night. Gallagher's preparations for shaving were simple, not to say primitive: a piece of salt-water soap, a small stub brush, with a purser's razor and a strop of porpoise hide, venerable in appearance and manufactured by himself. Gallagher said, "There ain't no strop can touch it," and I believed him. As for a mirror, nothing was more simple; Gallagher stuck his jack-knife into the mast at a convenient height, fixed his eye intently on the handle, and shaved.
This Saturday morning's function usually drew a crowd of admiring boys around the foremast to listen to Gallagher's yarns, for he liked to talk while he shaved, punctuating his discourse at psychological moments by stropping his razor on the defunct porpoise.
Often the midshipman of the forecastle would stroll around to the foremast, ostensibly to inspect Gallagher's spotless habitat, but really to listen (as I myself did more than once) to his old-time sea stories.
"You boys think discipline in the navy is hard," said Gallagher.
"You don't know nothing about the real discipline we used t have in the old navy, when men would get grog served out t them or the 'cat,' depending on which they deserved.
"I sailed in the Columbus frigate once in the '48's up the straits; Captain Blank, he was what I called a real sailorman, and as for discipline, well, I will tell you what kind he kept on his ship.
"We were cruising from Gibraltar to Port Mahone. It was a fine moonlight night, all sail set to royals, and a moderate wind and sea. I was a boy stationed in the after guard, and that night I was lookout in the starboard main chains. We had to stand outside in the channels and hang on to the lanyards in the main rigging.
"It was the first watch, and, as there was nothing in sight, I sat down in the chains and got to thinking. I must have gone to sleep, for the next thing I knew I was overboard, thoroughly soused and awake in cold water, and the ship was sailing away from me." (While Gallagher is stropping his razor at this dramatic point, I will say that this is a true story, vouchsafed as such and told .to me by Judge Hoffman, of Baltimore, Md., now deceased. Hoffman was a midshipman on the Columbus and at this time a shipmate and classmate of the present Admiral Luce.)
It seems that the relief lookout went out into the main chains at eight bells, and in shaking the sleeping Gallagher to wake him, accidentally pushed him overboard and, of course, sung out "Mall overboard."
In a well-regulated frigate as the Columbus, it was only a short time when the ship was hove to and a boat lowered. Naturally, in the performance of this maneuver, even in the seaman-like manner in which it was accomplished, a certain amount of noise occurred, and the captain, sleeping below, with the seaman's instinct, awoke at the tramping of feet over his head and hurried to the deck to see what was amiss.
It took but a moment for him to mount the poop deck and size up the situation. Leaning over the rail, he saw the lifeboat returning, and when within hail he rasped out to the midshipman in charge, "Have you got your man?" The midshipman's piping voice returned the cheerful "Aye, aye, sir."
Turning to the officer of the deck, Captain Blank said in a curt but incisive voice: "Light the battle lanterns; beat to battle."
Before the drums had ceased beating the ship was alive with half-dressed officer's and men rushing to "general quarters." The executive officer reported the ship in due time ready for action. The midshipman, followed by the cold and dripping Gallagher, climbed up the sea ladder and over the side on the quarterdeck. The captain received the report of the executive officer and, with a grim look at the shivering Gallagher, said: "Call all hands witness punishment."
The crew and officers marched aft and paraded in their accustomed places on the quarterdeck. The master-at-arms with the inevitable "cat" stood waiting orders at the mast. In the tense stillness of the night, accentuated by the creaking of the yards at the heaving of the ship, the executive officer reported "All ready to witness punishment, sir." Captain Blank stepped forward. The stillness was painful.
To Gallagher) "What's your name, my man?" "'Gallagher, sir sez I. Then the captain sez, Master-at-arms, trice him up to a grating and give him a dozen of the cat.' I was shaking with the cold, but I warmed up all right after I got that dozen."
When they got through the captain comes up to me and sez, 'Gallagher, you would like to know why you are punished, I suppose"? Yes, sir,' sez I. ''Well, I will tell you, and all the rest of the ship's company; it's because you left the ship without permission. Pipe down.'"
Gallagher had finished his shaving, and as he carefully stowed away his implements in his ditty box to await their next week's duty, he calmly looked up at his wide-mouthed audience and said,
"You see, boys, we had discipline in that ship."