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SOCIOLOGY TRANSFORMED
Series Editors: John Holmwood and
Stephen Turner
SOCIOLOGY
IN BELGIUM
A Sociological History
Raf Vanderstraeten
Kaat Louckx
Sociology Transformed
Series Editors
John Holmwood
School of Sociology and Social Policy
University of Nottingham
Nottingham, UK
Stephen Turner
Department of Philosophy
University of South Florida
Tampa, FL, USA
“What has sociology been like in a small but profoundly divided nation? In
their concise analysis of the Belgian case Raf Vanderstraeten and Kaat Louckx
depict how this particular national tradition has been entangled in a changing
international environment. From its privileged relationship to France and the
Netherlands, it developed a more Anglo-American orientation, while retaining
some of its most salient ties to national institutions. This is a vivid, sociological
portrayal of its entire history, from Quetelet to the present.”
—Johan Heilbron, author of The Rise of Social Theory and French Sociology
The field of sociology has changed rapidly over the last few decades.
Sociology Transformed seeks to map these changes on a country by
country basis and to contribute to the discussion of the future of the
subject. The series is concerned not only with the traditional centres of
the discipline, but with its many variant forms across the globe.
Sociology in Belgium
A Sociological History
Raf Vanderstraeten Kaat Louckx
Department of Sociology Department of Sociology
Ghent University University of Chicago
Ghent, Belgium Chicago, IL, USA
Sociology Transformed
ISBN 978-1-137-55662-2 ISBN 978-1-137-55663-9 (eBook)
https://doi.org/10.1057/978-1-137-55663-9
1 Sociology in Belgium 1
2 Religion 23
3 Language 59
4 Publications 93
5 Epilogue 125
Index 131
v
List of Figures
vii
Prologue
Although the rise and the institutionalization of the social sciences are
closely entangled with long-term processes of nation-building and state-
formation, specific national traditions within the social sciences cannot
be understood within their specific national context only. These national
traditions are embedded within more encompassing settings; they are
challenged and made possible by cross-national transfers and the transna-
tional circulation of scholars and ideas.
This book is an attempt to internationalize a national history of soci-
ology. It aims to internationalize the history of sociology in Belgium in
two different, but interrelated ways: by considering the factors that dif-
ferentiate the history of sociology in Belgium from other national his-
tories, and by tracing more general patterns which this history owes to
transnational exchanges and developments. By exploring this complex
transnational setting, we believe that sociologists will gradually become
able to properly analyse the social structures that shape their own orien-
tations and their own work.
In order to understand the long-term trajectory of sociology in
Belgium, this book will focus on the structural conditions and their his-
torical transformation from the nineteenth until the twenty-first century.
It will make use of historical-sociological analyses to shed light on the
various ways in which complex social structures define the kinds of socio-
logical knowledge that are or are not valued in Belgium. In this sense,
this book is intended to constitute a contribution to the sociology of
ix
x Prologue
Sociology in Belgium
Adolphe Quetelet
It is often said that ‘progress’ and ‘improvement’ were among the
favourite words of the modern world (e.g. Headrick 2000; Slack
2014). The eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were characterized
not only by a growing thirst for knowledge, but also by a strong faith
that more knowledge would lead to the betterment of humankind.
The scientific search for knowledge was thought to lead to controlled
progress. The very idea of a science of society (‘science sociale’) that
emerged in Europe in the late-eighteenth and early-nineteenth cen-
turies also incorporated instrumental connotations; it clearly linked
scientific ambitions with public policy. This idea of ‘social science’
1 SOCIOLOGY IN BELGIUM 5
to use that understanding to predict the future and eventually control the
‘social body’ (Louckx 2014).1 He not only hoped to formulate the laws
of society comparable to the laws of physics (hence: social physics), but
also believed to be able to improve social politics on this scientific basis.
Quetelet is often identified as one of the founding fathers of empiri-
cal sociology (Headrick 2000, pp. 80–84; Donnelly 2015). However, as
important as Quetelet’s own analyses of social statistics may have been
his contributions to the establishment of a bureaucratic apparatus that
could take care of the production of these statistics. Quetelet became a
tireless promoter of data collection based on standardized methods and
definitions. He was an institution builder, who devoted much effort to
the diffusion and implementation of such standardized data collection.
Some ten years after Belgium gained independence, he organized the
Commission Centrale de Statistique, which became the central agency for
the collection and publication of administrative statistics in Belgium. In
1846, he organized the first nationwide population census, participation
in which was obligatory for all residents. After 1846, censuses followed
at regular, mostly ten-yearly intervals in Belgium; Quetelet remained
in charge of the censuses taken in 1856 and 1866. In 1853, Quetelet
also organized, hosted and presided over the first Congrès International
de Statistique, which launched the development of many methodologi-
cal standards and uniform nomenclatures. For more than two decades,
sessions of this Congress were actively attended by high-level state
servants from around the world. Indeed, ‘those who attended pushed
their governments to adopt a standard template for census making on
the Queteletian model’ (Curtis 2002, pp. 20–21). The International
Statistical Institute, which was founded in 1885, currently still presents
itself as the heir of Quetelet’s Congress.
1 In several regards, the views of Comte and Quetelet are quite similar. Remarkably, how-
ever, Comte and Quetelet, who were contemporaries, did not refer to each other’s work.
“Ils sont entièrement indépendants. Quetelet a ignoré Comte, Comte a voulu ignorer
Quetelet” (Lottin 1912, pp. 366–367). Émile Durkheim later maintained that Quetelet’s
theory felt short of explaining how “the average man” and its statistical laws could exert
any force on individuals. Quetelet’s theory rested in Durkheim’s well-known view on an
inaccurate observation, because it required social forces to act on individuals at an evenly
distributed rate. Durkheim instead recurred to collective forces to explain variations in sui-
cide rates (Durkheim 1897).
1 SOCIOLOGY IN BELGIUM 7
2 Karl Marx used Ducpétiaux’ work as a source of information on Belgium in the 25th
3 “It [sociology] is thus far but a table of contents of which the chapters remain to be
written”.
1 SOCIOLOGY IN BELGIUM 9
ne s’agit plus que de la rendre de plus en plus intime et parfaite et d’en tirer les conclusions
légitimes”. De Greef’s introduction into sociology was reviewed by Durkheim (1886); his
writings were translated into several languages. For an early assessment of his whole socio-
logical oeuvre, see also Douglas (1926).
5 Tarde, for example, provided an introductory course on sociology in 1896/1897,
while Worms gave a series of lectures on the sociological thought of Auguste Comte in
1909/1910. An overview is presented in Despy-Meyer and Goffin (1976), although it
seems probable that not all of the scheduled lectures actually took place. Overall, how-
ever, the lecture programme of the Université Nouvelle was strongly inspired by Comtean
positivism.
10 R. Vanderstraeten and K. Louckx
While its degrees were not officially recognized in Belgium, only a few
Belgian students enrolled. The dissident institution counted each year
only around 100 students, about half of which were foreigners (Despy-
Meyer 1973, p. 8). Like many other experiments in internationalism
from that period, the Université Nouvelle did not outlive the First World
War (see Pyenson and Verbruggen 2009; Van Acker 2014; Verbruggen
and Carlier 2014). It neither had much lasting impact in Belgium,
although some of its parts were in 1919 re-integrated into its ‘mother
institution’, the Université Libre de Bruxelles.
At the end of the nineteenth century, the conflicts at the Brussels
University also initiated responses from the industrial chemist and pol-
itician Ernest Solvay (1838–1922). Solvay, who had witnessed the cri-
sis at the University of Brussels as a member of its Academic Board,
belonged to the progressive wing of liberalism, which kept close con-
tacts with socialist intellectuals. He shared their belief in the capacity
of science to develop blueprints for a better and fairer organization of
the ‘social fabric’, although his own vision remained definitely liberal in
outlook. Concerned about social progress and social innovation, he put
much emphasis on the maximization of people’s ‘productive capacity’.
To elaborate his ideas scientifically, he founded in 1894 the Institut des
Sciences Sociales and appointed three collaborators who had sharply pro-
tested against the decision taken by their university in the Reclus affair:
Denis and De Greef, as well as Émile Vandervelde (1866–1938). Solvay
also contributed actively to his own research institute; in the Annales de
l’Institut des Sciences Sociales, he published repeatedly on socio-economic
and monetary questions (Crombois 1994, pp. 24–33).
Despite initial intellectual excitement on both sides, the experiment
across political divides did not last. From around 1900 onwards, Solvay
began to reorganize his Institut. After having appointed Émile Waxweiler
(1867–1916), Solvay also started the construction of an art nouveau
building in the Leopold Park in Brussels that was to house a new Institut
de Sociologie Solvay. Waxweiler, who had been trained as an engineer
and who had been active in liberal politics in his student years, became
its director. He had also visited the USA and become impressed by the
work of Frederick Taylor on scientific management. With support from
Solvay, Waxweiler could accord grants to researchers who were willing
to explore themes that fitted the interests of Waxweiler and Solvay (see
Popelin 1986, pp. 59–67; Crombois 1995). After some bitter exchanges,
the collaboration between Solvay (and Waxweiler), on the one hand, and
1 SOCIOLOGY IN BELGIUM 11
Denis, De Greef and Vandervelde, on the other, came to an end (for the
official statements of both sides, see Dejongh 1901; Hanssens 1901; see
also de Bie 1983, pp. 134–140). Solvay reproached his former collabora-
tors that they had been unwilling to get rid of their ideological preju-
dices, their ‘doctrines régnantes’ (Hanssens 1901, pp. 22–23).
At the end of the nineteenth century, however, the University
of Brussels was not the only one in Belgium to introduce a social sci-
ence curriculum. In different ways, and at different places, the Catholic
University of Louvain also reacted to the late-nineteenth-century hype
surrounding sociology. In 1892, thus shortly after the ‘free-think-
ing’ University of Brussels, the Catholic University set up its School
for Political and Social Sciences. The School was closely related to the
Faculty of Law of the university. But it did not provide much place for
sociology; the School’s courses were in large part juridical and policy
oriented, directed towards the administration of the state. The theoreti-
cal ambitions of the newcomer were particularly criticized. Its director,
Jules Van den Heuvel, stated his reservations without much hesitation
in a letter, dated October 1896, to the rector magnificus of the Catholic
University: ‘At present, sociology is most often but a poor philosophy
hidden behind long quotes of picturesque customs and mores’ (cited in
Gerard 1992, p. 30).6 Some empirical research was introduced, however,
although it mainly built on the ‘monographic’ method of family-budget
studies as developed by the Catholic French social scientist Frédéric Le
Play. In the spirit of Le Play, the ‘monographs’ or case studies of the liv-
ing conditions of family households had to provide for moral exemplars
for Catholics (see Heilbron 2015, pp. 56–57). In this spirit, it was also
argued that social policy had to be based on such moral exemplars (e.g.
Brants 1906).
In the Higher Institute of Philosophy in Louvain, the social thought
of Comte and Durkheim also received some attention. The Philosophy
Institute, founded in 1889, was devoted to the revival of the philosophy
of St. Thomas Aquinas (as stimulated by Pope Leo XIII). It had the aim
to formulate a modern answer to the attacks of positivism against tra-
ditional religion and philosophy. With some support from this institute,
centuries”.
1 SOCIOLOGY IN BELGIUM 13
8 De Bie later examined the first Société Belge de Sociologie in more historical detail, espe-
cially focusing on the internal conflicts that led to its abolition. He was critical in his own
way. In his view, Cyrille Van Overbergh, the most active member of this association, was
not a real sociologist (de Bie 1988; see also Wijns 2003).
9 In this regard, Belgium is different from some other small and linguistically het-
erogeneous countries, such as Switzerland. For sociology, there does exist a multilingual
national Swiss journal of sociology: Schweizerische Zeitschrift für Soziologie / Revue Suisse de
Sociologie / Swiss Journal of Sociology, which publishes work written in German, French or
English. While we do not want to overstate the ‘unifying’ relevance of this journal for the
Swiss community of sociologists, it is evident that the absence of national communication
platforms hinders the organization of scholarly interaction at the national level.
16 R. Vanderstraeten and K. Louckx
directions. As we will see in more detail in the third and fourth chapters
of this book, different kinds of international research networks have also
become institutionalized in both linguistic communities: while French-
speaking researchers in Belgium are generally well connected with research-
ers in other French-speaking parts of the world (France, Québec), Flemish
researchers primarily orient themselves to researchers in the Netherlands,
Scandinavia and the Anglo-Saxon world (see Vanderstraeten 2010).
The linguistic divisions have become dominant in Belgium in the sec-
ond half of the last century. For most fields of study, including sociology,
there are distinct Dutch- and French-speaking communities of specialists
in Belgium. At the same time, the ideological tensions did not disappear
on both sides of the language border. Although seven universities now
offer sociology programmes in Belgium, no national research community
emerged. Both the linguistic and ideological divisions have led to a parti-
tioning of the academic system in a broad variety of scholarly disciplines.
The image of sociology in Belgium, which currently imposes itself most
forcefully, is one of a ‘provincialized’ sociology. We will trace this devel-
opment in more detail in the following chapters.
Pierre de Bie wrote extensively about the ‘early years’, albeit in an essen-
tialist vein. Despite the erudition visible in his work, his focus was on the
writings of the ‘hommes de valeur’ (men of value) in Belgian sociology
(de Bie 1986, p. 193). His main intention was to distinguish between
what was worth calling ‘sociology’ and what was not. He distinguished
between ‘le mot’ and ‘la chose’: ‘on peut trouver la chose sans le mot,
mais fréquemment aussi le mot sans la chose’ (de Bie 1985, p. 4).10
His history of the early years of Belgian sociology lacks attention to the
social and cultural conditions within which sociology could develop and
(re-)define itself. By contrast, the cultural historian Kaat Wils has in more
recent years paid more attention to the intellectual context within which
sociology ‘took off’ in Belgium. Her excellent research particularly
focuses on the influence of Comte’s positivism on Belgian sociologists in
the period around 1900 (esp. Wils 2005). Some related themes, such as
the influence of Darwinism on the ‘birth’ of sociology, have recently also
been explored by historians (De Bont 2008; see also Deferme 2007).
But work that covers the history of sociology in Belgium throughout the
twentieth century does not exist. This book intends to fill this lacuna. It
intends to offer a sociological account of the history of sociology in this
small and heterogeneous country from the nineteenth until the early-
twenty-first century.
To make sense of the development of sociology in Belgium, we
hereafter first consider in more detail the factors that differentiated the
history of sociology in Belgium from other national histories. The sec-
ond chapter is devoted to an analysis of the relation between religion
(Catholicism) and sociology. Special attention is paid to the conflicts
between clerical and anticlerical points of view, to the ways in which
social science and sociology became acceptable in Catholic circles, and
to the development of a distinct form of sociology of religion at the
Catholic universities in Leuven and Louvain-la-Neuve. The third chapter
focuses afterwards on the rise of linguistic diversity within Belgium. It
discusses, more particularly, the rise of Flemish or Dutch as a ‘legitimate’
language. As the language border was constitutionally established in the
early 1960s, the post-war expansion of the university system and of sev-
eral scientific disciplines, including sociology, took place in a regionalized
10 “One can find the thing without the word, but frequently also the word without the
thing”.
18 R. Vanderstraeten and K. Louckx
11 It is fair to mention that this English presentation of sociology in Belgium has also
forced us to make some selections. It has, most of all, excluded the use of approaches, such
as discourse analyses of sociology handbooks, which would require lengthy quotations of
French or Dutch source materials. Altogether, however, we believe that the different chap-
ters of this book provide for a broad and balanced overview of the history of sociology in
the different, relatively isolated networks in Belgium.
1 SOCIOLOGY IN BELGIUM 19
of this complex interaction process. But this book also pursues a broader
aim. Its second ambition is to suggest some modifications to the way in
which the history of sociology should be conceived of. By exploring new
ways to write the history of sociology (in Belgium), this book also aims
to enhance the sociological imagination.
References
Brants, V. (1906). La part de la méthode de Le Play dans les études sociales en
Belgique. La Réforme Sociale, 6, 636–652.
Brubaker, R. (2013). Language, religion and the politics of difference. Nations
and Nationalism, 19(1), 1–20.
Coenen-Huther, J. (2002). Entre cultures et structures. Essai d’autobiographie
sociologique. Revue Européenne des Sciences Sociales, 40, 5–39.
Coenen-Huther, J. (2006). Eugène Dupréel, philosophe, sociologue et moral-
iste. Revue Européenne des Sciences Sociales, 44, 97–118.
Crombois, J.-F. (1994). L’univers de la sociologie en Belgique de 1900 à 1940.
Brussels: Editions de l’Université de Bruxelles.
Crombois, J.-F. (1995). Bibliographie, sociologie et coopération internationale.
De l’Institut International de Bibliographie à l’Institut de Sociologie Solvay.
In A. Despy-Meyer (Ed.), Cent ans de l’Office International de Bibliographie
(pp. 215–238). Mons: Editions Mundanéum.
Curtis, B. (2002). The politics of population: State formation, statistics, and the
census of Canada, 1840–1875. Toronto: University of Toronto Press.
de Bie, P. (1983). Les débuts de la sociologie en Belgique. I: La fondation du
premier institut de sociologie Solvay. Recherches Sociologiques, 14(2), 109–140.
de Bie, P. (1985). Les débuts de la sociologie en Belgique. II: La préparation:
Pionniers et préoccupations au XIXe siècle. Recherches Sociologiques, 16(1),
3–37.
de Bie, P. (1986). Les débuts de la sociologie en Belgique. III: Les sociétés bel-
ges de sociologie et le centre interuniversitaire. Recherches Sociologiques, 17(2),
193–230.
de Bie, P. (1988). Naissance et premiers développements de la sociologie en
Belgique. Louvain-la-Neuve: Ciaco.
De Bont, R. (2008). Darwins kleinkinderen. De evolutietheorie in België
1864–1945. Nijmegen: Vantilt.
De Greef, G. (1911). Introduction à la sociologie. Brussels: Mayolez.
De Jonghe, E. (1976). Het onderwijs der politieke en sociale wetenschappen te
Leuven 1892–1976. Politica, 26(2), 102–128.
Deferme, J. (2007). Uit de ketens van de vrijheid: Het debat over de sociale politiek
in België 1886–1914. Leuven: Universitaire Pers Leuven.
20 R. Vanderstraeten and K. Louckx
I know not what other persons may have felt on these occasions; but
I must own, that, in spite of all my enthusiasm, when the actual time
came for fairly leaving friends and home, and plunging quite alone
and irrevocably into a new life, I felt a degree of anxiety, and distrust
of myself, which, as these feelings were quite strange, I scarcely
knew how to manage. I had been allowed to choose my own
profession, it is true, and was always eager to be off; yet I almost
wished, when the actual moment arrived, that I had not been taken
at my word. For the first time in my life, I knew what was meant by
the word responsibility, and all the shame of failure stared me in the
face. When at school, nine-tenths of my thoughts had always
rambled abroad, to those unknown regions, upon which my
imagination loved to feast, day and night. Still, I can well remember,
my heart sunk within me, and I felt pretty much as if I were on the
verge of death, when the carriage that was to convey me away,
drove up to the door. I still believed that there was, even on this
earth, a new and a much better world before me; but when I tasked
my judgment, to say upon what grounds this belief rested, the
answer was so meagre, that I began to dread I had done a mighty
foolish thing in setting out to seek for it.
“What a scrape I shall be in,” I said to myself, “if the gloomy
representations of these sad fellows the poets be true pictures of life!
What if this existence of ours be but a scene of gradually-increasing
misery! How shall I be able to get on at all, if a sea life be not more
enjoyable than that of the High School of Edinburgh? and what kind
of figure shall I cut, when driven back, by sheer distress, to petition
my father to take me home again, to eat the bitter bread of idleness,
or to seek for some other profession, wherein all the rubs and tugs
may prove just as bad as those of the sea, and possibly not very
much better than those of school?”
I took good care, however, to let none of these unworthy doubts
and alarms find any expression in word or in look; and, with a heart
almost bursting, I took leave of the holyday scenes of the country I
had loved so well, and which, to my young fancy, appeared the most
beautiful spot on earth,—a judgment which, as I before observed, a
tolerably extensive acquaintance with the rest of the world has only
tended to confirm. Of course, I had a regular interview and leave-
taking with my capital friends the fishermen, whom I had long held to
be the best-informed persons of my acquaintance, merely because
they knew most about ropes and ship matters generally. I cannot say
that these worthy mariners stood the test of after-communication,
quite so well as the romantic coast-scenery near which they resided.
I remember, on returning from my first voyage, going down to the
beach, in my uniform jacket, and in no very modest spirit, to shew off
my superior nautical attainments to these poor fellows, who had
been sticking fast to their rocks during the interval, much after the
fashion of their own shell-fish. Their reception, of course, was highly
flattering; but their confined views of the profession, and scanty
knowledge of many of its details, made me look back with wonder to
the time when I had hailed them as first-rate masters in the noble art
of seamanship.
On the 16th of May, 1802, I left home; and next day my father said
to me, “Now you are fairly afloat in the world, you must begin to write
a journal;” and, suiting the action to the word, he put a blank book
into one hand, and a pen into the other, with a hint for me to proceed
at once to business. The following is a fair specimen of the result,
which I certainly little imagined was ever destined to attain the
honour of being printed:—
“May 17.—Journey to London.—Left Dunglass. Breakfasted at the
Press Inn, and changed horses. Got to Belford; changed horses.
Alnwick—dined there, and got to Morpeth, where we slept. Up early;
breakfasted at Newcastle. Stopped at Durham. Walked forward till
the chaise should overtake us; got into the chaise. Stopped to give
the horses some drink. Saw two deep draw-wells. Observed some
coal-carts at Newcastle coal-pits. The wheels are so constructed,
that they run down-hill upon things in the road, which are made for
the purpose. The horse follows the cart, to draw it up the hill, after it
has emptied the load.”
The rest of the journal is pretty much in the same style—a record
of insignificant facts which lead to nothing, useless as
memorandums at the time, and of course not more useful at the
distance of eight-and-twenty years. I would give a good deal, at this
moment, to possess, instead of these trashy notices, some traces,
no matter how faint, of what was actually passing in my mind upon
the occasion of this journey. The resolutions we make at such a
period, together with the doubts and fears which distract us, may
have a certain amount of value, if then jotted down in good faith; but
if these fleeting thoughts be once allowed to pass without record,
they necessarily lose most of their force. There is always, indeed,
something interesting, and often much that is useful, in tracing the
connexion between sentiment and action, especially in the
elementary stages of life, when the foundations of character are laid.
But the capacity of drawing such inferences belongs to a very
different period of life; and hence it arises, that early journals are
generally so flat and profitless, unless they be written in a spirit
which few people think of till too late.
I shall have so many better opportunities than the present of
speaking on the copious subject of journal-writing, that I shall merely
remark, in passing, for the consideration of my young readers, that
what most people wish to find recorded there, is not so much a dry
statement of facts, however important these may be, as some
account of the writer’s opinions and his feelings upon the occasion.
These, it may be observed, are like the lights and shades and
colours of a painting, which, while they contribute fully as much to
the accuracy of a representation as the correctness of the mere
outline, impress the mind of the spectator with a still more vivid
image of the object intended to be described.
I ought to have mentioned before, that the object of this journey
was to ship me off to sea; and it was arranged that I should join the
flag-ship of Sir Andrew Mitchell, then fitting in the River for the
Halifax station. We, of course, set out for London, as the grand focus
from which every thing in the English world radiates. But I find
nothing in the memorandums of that period worthy of being
extracted, nor do I recollect any incident which excited me strongly,
except the operation of rigging myself out for the first time in
midshipman’s uniform. There was something uncommonly pleasing,
I remember, in the glitter of the dirk and its apparatus; and also in the
smart air, as well as new cut of the dress; but the chief satisfaction
arose from the direct evidence this change of garb afforded that
there was no joke in the matter, but that the real business of life was
actually about to begin. Accordingly, in a tolerable flutter of spirits, I
made my first appearance on the deck of one of his Majesty’s ships.
The meagre journal of that day is as follows:—
“Went to Deptford after breakfast in a hackney-coach—when we
got there, we got out of the coach, walked down the street, and met
the captain of the Leander. Went with him to the clerk of the
cheque’s office, and had my name put in some book or other. Went
with him to his lodgings, where he gave us a list of some things I was
to get. Got a boat and went on board the Leander for the first time.
Came home on a stage-coach—got a boat at London bridge—went
up in it to the Adelphi—got out and went to the hotel.”
In most other professions, the transition from the old to the new
mode of life is more or less gradual; but in that of the sea, it is so
totally abrupt, and without intervening preparation, that a boy must
be either very much of a philosopher, or very much of a goose, not to
feel, at first, well nigh overwhelmed with the change of
circumstances. The luxuries and the kindnesses of home are
suddenly exchanged for the coarse fare of a ship, and the rough
intercourse of total strangers. The solicitude with which he has been
watched heretofore, let the domestic discipline have been ever so
strict, is tenderness itself, compared to the utter indifference,
approaching to dislike, with which a youngster, or ‘squeaker,’ as he is
well called, is received on board. Even if he possess any
acquaintances amongst his own class, they have few consolations in
their power; and, generally speaking, are rather disposed to laugh at
the home-sick melancholy of a new comer, than to cheer him up,
when his little heart is almost breaking.
It so happened that I knew no one on board the ship, excepting
two middies similarly circumstanced with myself. I was introduced
also to a very gruff, elderly, service-soured master’s mate, to whose
care, against his own wishes, I had been consigned by a mutual
friend, a captain with whom he had formerly served. Our own
excellent commanding officer had a thousand other things to look
after, far more pressing than the griefs and cares of a dozen of boys
under his charge.
I felt bewildered and subdued, by the utter solitude of my situation,
as my father shook me by the hand, and quitted the ship. I well
recollect the feeling of despair when I looked round me, and was
made conscious of my utter insignificance. “Shall I ever be able,”
thought I, “to fill any respectable part in this vast scene? What am I
to do? How shall I begin? Whom can I consult?” I could furnish no
satisfactory answer to these queries; and though I had not the least
idea of shrinking from what I had undertaken, yet, I confess, I was
not far from repenting that I had been so decided about the matter.
There is a vehement delight, no doubt, in novelty—but we may
have too much of it at once; and certainly, if my advice were asked
as to this point, in the case of another, I should recommend that a
boy be gradually introduced to his future home; and, if possible,
placed under the auspices of some one older than himself, and who,
from having a real interest in him, might soften the needless rigours
of this formidable change. I had no such preparation; and was
without one friend or even acquaintance on board, who cared a
straw for me. I was also very little for my age, spoke broad Scotch,
and was, withal, rather testy in my disposition. The cock-pit, it is true,
is a pretty good place to work the bad humours out of a crotchety
young fellow, and to bring him to his due bearings; but I think I have
seen a good many tenderer plants than I was, crushed down under
the severity of this merciless discipline. Perhaps it is all for the best;
because youngsters who cannot, or will not stand this rough rubbing,
are just as well out of the way, both for themselves and the public.
There is one practice, however, which, as I invariably followed it
myself, I know to be in every boy’s power, and I venture strongly to
recommend it to others in the same situation; nor is it very likely that
many will be exposed to greater trials, in a small way, than I was at
first. The maxim is, always, in writing home, to put the best face
upon matters, and never, if possible, to betray any inevitable
unhappiness. Such a practice is doubly useful—for it contributes
essentially to produce that character of cheerfulness in reality, which
is partly assumed at the moment of writing, in order to save our
friends from distress on our account. It would be wrong, indeed, to
say, in writing home, that we are very happy, when in truth we are
very much the reverse; but, without stating any falsehood, or giving
into any subterfuge—which is still worse—those particular things
may very fairly be dwelt upon which are agreeable, almost to the
exclusion of those which are otherwise. We should learn, in short, to
see and to describe the cheerful things; and, both in our practice and
in description, leave the unpleasant ones to take care of themselves.
For example, I remember, as well as if the incidents had occurred
yesterday, most of the details which are stated in the following letter,
written only the day after I was left to my fate—amongst strangers—
in the unknown world of a man-of-war. I certainly was far from happy,
and might easily have made my friends wretched by selecting chiefly
what was disagreeable. I took a different course.
This incident served, in a small way, to bring me into notice; for the
very next day, to my great satisfaction, I was ordered by the first
lieutenant to go in the jolly-boat, which was manned alongside, with
some message to a ship which he named, lying near us at Spithead.
I hesitated; and upon his asking me why I did not ‘be off,’ I replied
that I did not know which was the ship in question. “Oh,” said he,
looking over the gangway hammocks, “that ship with the top-gallant-
masts struck.”
Now, I had not the remotest idea what the term ‘top-gallant-mast
struck’ might mean; but as the officer seemed impatient, I hurried
down the side. The bow-man shoved the boat off, and away we
rowed, making a very zig-zag course; for, though I had the tiller in my
hand, I knew very imperfectly how to use it. The strokesman of the
boat at last laid his oar across, touched his hat, and said, “Which
ship are we going to, sir?”
I answered, in the words of the first lieutenant, “the one with the
top-gallant-masts struck.”
“Oh, sir,” exclaimed the fellow, smiling, “we have past her some
time—there she lies,” pointing astern.
Round we pulled—and I was much inclined to ask the man to
steer the boat; for, although my old associates, the fishermen on the
coast of Scotland, had edified me a little on this matter, I found it
quite a different affair to take a boat alongside a man-of-war at
Spithead, in a tide’s way, from what it had been to run a cobble on
the beach. Accordingly, I first ran the jolly-boat stem on, and, in
trying to remedy this lubberly blunder, gave orders which had the
effect of bringing the boat head and stern—which is about as wrong
in seamanship, as it would be in a horseman to put his right foot into
the stirrup in mounting, which, of course, would bring him with his
face to the tail.
Nevertheless, I crawled up the side, gave my message, and
returned to report the answer. The only salutation I received from the
first lieutenant was in the following words—uttered in a sharp, angry
tone:—
“Where the deuce have you been, youngster, all this time? and
what possessed you to go cruising about amongst the whole fleet at
such a rate?”
“I hope I shall learn to do better, sir,” I stammered out.
“There is much room for improvement, I am sure,” he cried.
I was made painfully sensible, by the tartness of this reproach, that
there was no very extraordinary degree of professional sagacity in
what I had recently done about the fire near the magazine. I had
been taking some credit to myself for not bawling out ‘fire! fire!’ and
especially for having thought of the pots of beer—but this brilliant
piece of service seemed now all forgotten!
Officers, and other persons in authority, should therefore be
careful how they strike young folks with their tongues; for, although
the wounds made do not shew upon the skin like those caused by
steel or lead, they often sink deeper into the feelings, and frequently
remain rankling there much longer than was intended, or than is
useful.
Of course, I was excessively mortified; but the justice of the
officer’s censure was so obvious, and the ridicule of the seamen in
the boat, even subdued as it was, so fair, that I soon saw I had
nothing to do but to set about learning to steer forthwith, and to lose
no time in finding out what ‘striking top-gallant-masts’ could possibly
mean.
CHAPTER III.
SPECIMENS OF COCK-PIT DISCIPLINE.