Black Tot Day 50 Anniversary - 2 The Ritual

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                    BLACK TOT DAY 50 ANNIVERSARY

                                                2 The Ritual

To begin with, I remind our readers that this series of articles relies largely on  J. Pack’s work “Nelson’s Blood. The Story of Naval Rum” (1995).  All the quotes are from this passionate and informative book. 

In the first article we have seen how grog was born, but what exactly was grog made with? There were four fundamental ingredients: rum, water, lime and sugar (actually a rough Daiquiri). Rum has been uniquely vocated to mixology from of old, but maybe Vernon had already understood that lime was useful against scurvy, the worst curse of the sailors of that age. 

And how much water? During the late eighteenth century, and indeed well into the next, the regulations did not stipulate exactly the quantity of water to be added to net rum to make grog, “The due proportion” or “The usual proportion” were the vague expressions used. In Vernon’s Order the proportion was four parts of water for one part of rum, later it seems that three to one became common. An extract from the memoir of Admiral Dillon as midshipman in HMS Defence in 1794 provides a clue, “So soon as the ship was in order, the grog was served out; but with us the seamen had four portions of water to the spirits whereas three parts was the established custom of the navy. Our captain by altering the allowance as mentioned, was anxious to prevent drunkenness. This did not succeed but only created discontent.” An extract from Tars of Old England written by a sailor, Jack Nastyface, relating the routine in HMS Revenge at the turn of the century supports the three-to-one theory. “After punishment, the bos’n’s mate pipes to dinner, it being eight bells or twelve o’clock; and this is the pleasantest part of the day, as at one bell the piper is called to play Nancy Dawson or some other lively tune, a well known signal that the grog is ready to be served out. It is the duty of the cook from each mess to fetch and serve it out to his messmates of which every man and boy is allowed a pint, that is one gill of rum and three of water, to which is added lemon acid sweetened with sugar.” 

“Toward the end of the Napoleonic wars, many senior naval officers became increasingly aware of the direct relationship between drunkenness and punishment, and urged the Admiralty to reduce the spirit ration. Their lordships preferred to allow a policy of ‘ne pas reveiller le chat qui dort’. They knew that living conditions could not be ameliorated, thus in their opinion to reduce rum without compensation was simply courting trouble.”  Only when the war was over with the defeat of Napoleon, did things begin to change. “Finally, in 1823, the Admiralty decided to act and selected HMS Thetis under the command of Captain Sir John Phillimore as trial ship for a number of proposed changes, including a reduction in the spirit ration. The daily rum issue was halved to a quarter of a pint (a gill), and in compensation tea and cocoa were issued, and two shillings per month added to the men’s pay. … The experiment was deemed successful and when the changes were permanently introduced in the following year (1824), they included a bonus, an increased meat ration. …. Accompanying these important changes was the decision to restrict grog to the noonday issue and to do away with its evening equivalent.”

And yet … by reducing the ration of the rum to a gill, the Board of Admiralty may have felt that they had scotched drunkenness. But a gill then was equal in strength to at least four double whiskies today and even as grog, was still a potent mixture. Moreover, there is nothing to suggest that Their Lordships applied themselves to the problem with reforming zeal, for in 1824 the new bigger imperial gallon was introduced, the effect of which was to add one fifth to the rum ration, neutralizing much of the benefit gained from the recent reduction. To make matters worse, however, they allowed the evening issue to be reintroduced, presumably in order to spread the increased ration. Let’s remember that 1 Imperial gallon is equal to a little more than 4.5 liters In 1831, after centuries, the Admiralty decided to remove the beer from the seaman’s daily ration, so Rum was even more the core of the alcoholic consumption of the British sailors.

“In 1844, the daily ration was prescribed a gill (a quarter pint Imperial), at which point rum had probably reached its apogee. Its gradual descent can be traced from this time, and, in quantitative terms, the daily ration of a quarter of an Imperial was never to be exceeded again. … With rum ascendant and all ships embarking it upon commissioning, brandy was displaced, and for arrack – the far eastern substitute of the previous century – little more was heard of it.”

“The daily rum ration at a quarter of a pint per day, quite demonstrably, was still too much. Ironically, the extra tea and sugar which seamen were allowed, was a frequent cause of the evening issue of grog being given away by a man to his friend. ‘Rum Rats’ (the name for those whose unquenchable thirst gave them a highly developed olfaction for the spirit), collected extra supplies in this way.”

Pressure was mounting again for the daily rum ration to be reduced, and at the same time to review once more the evening ration. The Admiralty decide to appoint a Grog Committee to investigate. The result of their labors was published in 1850, a wide-ranging report which involved taking evidence from a diverse body of people.

The most important conclusions of the committee were “That the present allowance of spirits or wine be reduced by one half”, and “that the remaining portion be issued at dinner time”.  The Admiralty Circular was issued on October 1, 1850 with orders that its provisions should take effect from January following. The sailors received some money in compensation, and more money for those that gave up the rum ration altogether.

It is now, at last, the moment to deal with the very ceremony, the Up Spirits ritual. Just one opening consideration: English people have been real masters at creating rituals from scratch, or almost from scratch; after all, even modern sport is an invention of theirs! (Not to mention Royal Weddings). But, when it came to actually organizing the daily distribution of grog, a real problem had to be solved: when mixing the rum with water, the Navy had to be careful  “that the men are not defrauded in having their full allowance of rum”. In order to do that, it was necessary to assess the number of the men who were entitled to receive their ration that day, excluding those who were unwell, out of ship, under punishment, underage, and even the (few) who didn’t drink spirits. So, the quantity of rum changed every day. Not a drop less than necessary should be used, or the men would be defrauded. But nor a drop more, or the Navy would be robbed of an expensive product. Moreover, the individuals involved in the daily making and distribution of the grog had to be tightly controlled, lest they should steal some rum from the stores for themselves. Then, the rum had to be mixed every day with the correct proportion of water and also at this stage it was again necessary to make it impossible for the men involved in the issuing ritual to hide part of the rum and dole out grog with too much water in it. Every given day in hundreds of ships! Not so easy.

Therefore, the procedures regulating the daily issue of grog, the so called “tot”, were so complicated because they had to deal with all these difficulties.  Then, of course, the English genius for rituals and myths made the difference and with time the tot converted into a proper rite of the Royal Navy. It constituted the most pleasant part of the day and a key moment of bonding for the men; it strengthened their collective identity, confirmed hierarchical ranks and was the expression of masculinity and adulthood. A ritual so rich in meaning that it would deserve a thorough cultural study, but here we can only try to describe it. In the course of time there were changes, and there were slight differences from ship to ship, but its substance remained the same.What follows is a reconstruction – necessarily abridged - of the tot, as it was performed in the first decades of the XX century, a period about which we have the most reliable, if nostalgic, sources.

At 10.30 in the morning, the stores assistant – nicknamed Jack Dusty – starts the book-keeping and assesses the number of those entitled to draw their spirit and then the exact amount of rum required that day. Having juggled with his figures for some while, he produces an overall total for the day’s issue together with the amount for each mess. Because most of the ships had large crew, they used a two layers distribution: first, the proper allowance was distributed to the cooks of every mess, then each cook distributed it to his messmates. “Six Bells are followed by the shrill whistle of the boatswain’s call. Up Spirits intones the boatswain’s mate, answered by a chorus – sotto voce – of Stand Fast the Holy Ghost from the throats of those throughout the ship who are eagerly awaiting the lower’s deck’s main social event of the day. Next, the officer of the day is rounded up by the petty officer of the day who politely reminds him that is time for Up Spirits, firmly ushering him to the Important key board to draw the keys for both the spirit room and the spirit ‘barricoe’ pronounced ‘breaker’ into which the rum is to be poured and conveyed.”

The Officer ushers into the spirit room a small party consisting of the Petty Officer, Jack Dusty with his helper, nicknamed Tanky, and often a small guard. After a complex and ritualized routine, which includes taking the keys, going below deck and unlocking the door, the whole group enters the spirit room where Jack Dusty and Tanky draw out the right quantity of rum. Another intricate routine follows: locking the room, retaining the key and going up into a room where the rum is measured again, under the watchful eye of the Officer of the day. In the meantime, by 11.45 the grog tub, with its splendid brass lettering The King – God Bless Him has been set up on the deck. When the party with the breaker of rum reaches the tub, Jack Dusty starts the proceedings and the rum is measured another time. 

“At this stage, an element of time-honoured tradition enters the proceedings. Tanky offers the officer of the day a small measure of water from the tub, uttering at the same time, ‘Test for salt, sir’. The latter, having satisfied himself that the water is pure and unsullied, gives a nod, the rum is poured from the breaker into the water in the grog tub, and the mixture is stirred thoroughly. Grog is ready. ‘First Mess’ is the cry and the distribution begins. When every mess has received their ration, what is left over in the tub is emptied over the ship’s side into the sea. Even this part of the ceremony follows a precise procedure of words and gestures.

“Only one element of the ceremony remains after the grog has been issued and this is the most important – its drinking. The rum bos’ns repair to their messes with all speed and sure-footedness (even in a force ten gale) to distribute the ration among their messmates. Mugs of glasses are set up at the end of each table together with a bakelite measure. Some men are delayed by their duty watch, but there is an unwritten code prevailing so that any tots not drawn immediately are carefully set aside for their owners’ return.” The tot was over.

This ritual continued to happen every day, during the months, years, decades of the sailors’ life.

Marco Pierini