Raphael Semmes, Memoirs of Service Afloat During the War Between the States

[455] irksomeness of my position, and was always glad of an opportunity to escape from it. On the ‘bridge,’ I could lay aside the ‘captain,’ gather my young officers around me, and indulge in some of the pleasures of social intercourse; taking care to tighten the reins, gently, again, the next morning. When song was the order of the evening, after the more ambitious of the amateurs had delivered themselves of their solos and cantatas, the entertainment generally wound up with Dixie, when the whole ship would be in an uproar of enthusiasm, sometimes as many as a hundred voices joining in the chorus; the unenthusiastic Englishman, the stolid Dutchman, the mercurial Frenchman, the grave Spaniard, and even the serious Malayan, all joining in the inspiring refrain,—

‘We'll live and die in Dixie!’

and astonishing old Neptune by the fervor and novelty of their music.

Eight o'clock was the hour at which the night-watches were set, when, of course, all merriment came to an end. When the officer of the deck reported this hour to the captain, and was told by the latter, to ‘make it so,’ he put the trumpet to his mouth, and sang out in a loud voice, ‘Strike the bell eight— call the watch!’ In an instant, the most profound silence fell upon the late uproarious scene. The witches did not disappear more magically, in that famous revel of Tam O'Shanter, when Tam sang out, ‘Weel dune, Cutty Sark!’ than the sailors dispersed at this ominous voice of authority. The violinist was arrested with half-drawn bow; the raconteur suddenly ceased his yarn in the most interesting part of his story, and even the inspiring chorus of ‘Dixie’ died a premature death, upon the lips of the singers. The shrill call of the boatswain's whistle, followed by his hoarse voice, calling ‘All the starboard watch!’ or ‘All the port watch!’ as the case might be, would now be heard, and pretty soon, the watch, which was off duty, would ‘tumble’ below to their hammocks, and the midshipman would be seen coming forward from the quarterdeck, with lantern and watch-bill in hand, to muster the watch whose turn it was to be on deck. The most profound stillness now reigned on board during the remainder of the night, only