raisins was reckoned a tun, but 2,000 lbs of currants, 1,120 lbs of suet, 1,600 lbs of rice, 2,240 lbs of sugar and butter also made a tun, as did 1,800 lbs of cheese in a cask but 2,240 lbs if loose.
Nor were things any easier with liquid measures. Butts, puncheons, hogsheads and barrels, all contained different quantities, depending on whether listed in wine measure or beer measure. A butt, for example, contained 120 gallons wine measure, but only 108 gallons beer measure.
Although he had never yet met a purser whom he trusted, Ramage could not help feeling sorry for Clapton. In addition to the variety of measures which he had to deal with, there were other problems like what to issue to the men, depending on where the ship was. Within the Strait of Gibraltar, for instance, if the men could not be issued daily with a gallon of beer each, they received a pint of wine, and in the West Indies it was a gallon of beer or half a pint of spirits or a pint of wine. Nor was it only liquor – if there was any shortage of provisions, then the substitutes were listed. There were three pounds of beef for two pounds of pork, and two pounds of flour and half a pound of currants for a piece of pork and pease; and in place of a piece of beef the purser could issue four pounds of flour, or two of currants, or four of raisins.
Being a purser, Ramage had long ago decided, was an attitude of mind. Issuing one weight and charging another – which was how the purser made his living, pocketing the difference – required a certain deviousness that did not come naturally to normal men.
Ramage was still standing at the entryport watching the bustle alongside the ship when Aitken came up to him. ‘When do you want to bring your furniture on board, sir? With the guns stowed and the painters finished in your cabin, we’re ready for you.’
‘Very well, let’s say the day after tomorrow: that will give me time to let the shopkeepers know when to deliver.’
‘Have you any idea when we are expected to sail, sir?’
‘No, neither when or where to. Six months’ provisions can mean the Mediterranean, West Indies, America or the East Indies.’
‘I hope it’s not back to the Mediterranean, again,’ Aitken said. ‘I think I’ve seen enough of it to keep me going for a while.’
‘It’s about the only place where there’s any action at the moment,’ Ramage pointed out. ‘We were kept busy there with the Calypso.’
‘True, but the seventy-fours in Naples seem to be having a dull time.’
‘I’m sure their officers were having a busy time socially,’ Ramage said ironically. ‘I believe Naples is one of the more favoured stations as far as that is concerned.’
The new gunner and the chaplain arrived on board within an hour of each other, and it was as if a whimsical Admiralty had sent two complete opposites. The gunner, William Higgins, came from Boston, in Lincolnshire, and was a tall, thin and stooped man with a dry sense of humour. He was going bald, but what was left of his hair was fair and greying, trimmed like a monk’s tonsure.
The chaplain, Benjamin Brewster, brought to mind Friar Tuck: he was a jolly, round little man whom Ramage liked on sight, thankful that the first chaplain he had ever had on board a ship he commanded looked as though he would be an asset and likely to be popular with the men. The trouble with most chaplains, he knew, was that they were too closely associated with the wardroom, more interested in their food than the spiritual welfare of the ship’s company.
Ramage was determined that right from the start Brewster should understand his views, and he took the man out to the balcony of his cabin and walked him up and down while questioning and telling him.
‘As far as I am concerned,’ Ramage said, ‘the chaplain is responsible for the spiritual health and happiness of every man on board – that will be a ship’s company of 625 men. We have a first-class surgeon who will make sure that
Nor were things any easier with liquid measures. Butts, puncheons, hogsheads and barrels, all contained different quantities, depending on whether listed in wine measure or beer measure. A butt, for example, contained 120 gallons wine measure, but only 108 gallons beer measure.
Although he had never yet met a purser whom he trusted, Ramage could not help feeling sorry for Clapton. In addition to the variety of measures which he had to deal with, there were other problems like what to issue to the men, depending on where the ship was. Within the Strait of Gibraltar, for instance, if the men could not be issued daily with a gallon of beer each, they received a pint of wine, and in the West Indies it was a gallon of beer or half a pint of spirits or a pint of wine. Nor was it only liquor – if there was any shortage of provisions, then the substitutes were listed. There were three pounds of beef for two pounds of pork, and two pounds of flour and half a pound of currants for a piece of pork and pease; and in place of a piece of beef the purser could issue four pounds of flour, or two of currants, or four of raisins.
Being a purser, Ramage had long ago decided, was an attitude of mind. Issuing one weight and charging another – which was how the purser made his living, pocketing the difference – required a certain deviousness that did not come naturally to normal men.
Ramage was still standing at the entryport watching the bustle alongside the ship when Aitken came up to him. ‘When do you want to bring your furniture on board, sir? With the guns stowed and the painters finished in your cabin, we’re ready for you.’
‘Very well, let’s say the day after tomorrow: that will give me time to let the shopkeepers know when to deliver.’
‘Have you any idea when we are expected to sail, sir?’
‘No, neither when or where to. Six months’ provisions can mean the Mediterranean, West Indies, America or the East Indies.’
‘I hope it’s not back to the Mediterranean, again,’ Aitken said. ‘I think I’ve seen enough of it to keep me going for a while.’
‘It’s about the only place where there’s any action at the moment,’ Ramage pointed out. ‘We were kept busy there with the Calypso.’
‘True, but the seventy-fours in Naples seem to be having a dull time.’
‘I’m sure their officers were having a busy time socially,’ Ramage said ironically. ‘I believe Naples is one of the more favoured stations as far as that is concerned.’
The new gunner and the chaplain arrived on board within an hour of each other, and it was as if a whimsical Admiralty had sent two complete opposites. The gunner, William Higgins, came from Boston, in Lincolnshire, and was a tall, thin and stooped man with a dry sense of humour. He was going bald, but what was left of his hair was fair and greying, trimmed like a monk’s tonsure.
The chaplain, Benjamin Brewster, brought to mind Friar Tuck: he was a jolly, round little man whom Ramage liked on sight, thankful that the first chaplain he had ever had on board a ship he commanded looked as though he would be an asset and likely to be popular with the men. The trouble with most chaplains, he knew, was that they were too closely associated with the wardroom, more interested in their food than the spiritual welfare of the ship’s company.
Ramage was determined that right from the start Brewster should understand his views, and he took the man out to the balcony of his cabin and walked him up and down while questioning and telling him.
‘As far as I am concerned,’ Ramage said, ‘the chaplain is responsible for the spiritual health and happiness of every man on board – that will be a ship’s company of 625 men. We have a first-class surgeon who will make sure that
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