HOW THE EVELYN WAS LOST.--I AM TRANSFERRED FROM FORECASTLE TO
CABIN.--OUR PASSENGERS.--ARRIVAL AT BOSTON.
Little was seen of the British officer and his family during that day,
and that little was when Captain Dawson or either of our mates had
occasion to visit the cabin. The feminine contingent located there kept
to their room nearly all the time, while Captain Graham went to bed
and slept soundly after his exhausting experience. The captain of the
Evelyn also retired to sleep, and so did the second mate and sailors,
who were assigned to quarters in the forecastle.
Of course everybody on the Washington did his best to relieve the
sufferings of the castaways and make them comfortable. The three
sailors were rigged out in spare garments contributed by the
Washington's crew; but a day or two later Captain Dawson supplied them
with garments from the slop-chest, and enabled them to return the
borrowed clothing. We didn't learn very much about their mishap until
the next day, when they had sufficiently recovered their strength to be
able to talk. Each of them told the story of their misfortune in a way
differing somewhat from that of his shipmates, but substantially, and
in all essential particulars, the account was the same. Here it is:--
As before stated, the Evelyn was on a voyage from London to Bermuda.
They had a favoring wind down the channel, and were well out beyond
Land's End and the Scilly Isles, when they encountered for two or three
days some strong head winds. Then the weather became fine again, and
the ship continued on her course towards her destination for a week or
more. After this they had another series of gales, more severe than the
first. The ship labored heavily in the water; she was a dull sailer,
and one of the crew said she was the "bloomin'est old tub" that he was
ever in.
As the gale abated it was found that the ship was leaking; but the
leak didn't seem to be a very bad one, though it required two men to
be constantly working at the pumps. On the second day after the leak
began it was found to be somewhat increased. Then all hands were called
to the pumps, and the ship was put before the wind, so that both pumps
could be kept going. At the time all hands were called the mate went
into the hold and found about two feet of water there; ten or twelve
hours later he again visited the hold and found three feet of water.
In spite of the working of both pumps all the time, night and day, the
water increased; and on the morning of the third day of the leak, the
ship had settled so much into the water that the sea occasionally made
a complete breach over her.
"Then Captain Woods ordered the stanchions and bulwarks cut away," said
one of the men, "between the fore and main rigging, to let the water
run off the decks, and to make it easier for launching the boats. Food
and water were prepared to be placed in the boats, and a lookout was
stationed aloft to see if any sail was in sight.
"There was no ship to be seen," he continued, "and then the captain
gave orders to get out the boats. The long boat was got out first; but
as she was being lowered to the side a sea broke over, and half filled
her with water. Four men jumped into the boat and bailed her out just
as quick as they could. Then a quantity of food and water was placed
in her, and she was trailed back at the stern of the ship. A warp was
passed over the larboard bow of the ship, outside of the forerigging
and into the gangway to the boat, leaving sufficient slack to allow her
to go astern. Just as she was abreast of the stern a sea struck her,
and stove in two planks of the larboard bilge.
"It seemed as though we were doomed," said the man from the Evelyn; but
the captain cheered us and ordered some blankets thrown into the boat
to stop the leak. The blankets were thrust over the hole, and one of
the men stood on them to keep them in. Then the first mate, with eight
more of the crew, got into the boat. The mate nailed a plank over the
leak, so that with the help of the blankets it was pretty well stopped.
The boat had now drifted to the weather quarter of the Evelyn, and
it was hauled up towards the ship with the intention of taking the
passengers aboard; but just as they were about to do so another sea
struck the boat, and when it receded from the ship the sudden jerk
broke the rope and let the boat go adrift.
The crew attempted to pull it to the ship, but owing to the quantity
of water in her they could not succeed. Then they left off pulling and
began to bale the boat out. She drifted farther and farther away, and
we very soon saw there was no hope of our getting to her.
"There were then eight of us left on board,--the eight that you have
rescued. We had made preparations for lowering the quarter-boat, and
now that the long boat was gone we went at work as fast as we could.
Owing to the pumps having been stopped, the ship was settling deeper
into the water every minute, and threatening to go out from under us
before long. We put some food and water on board, and a few articles of
clothing for the women; and then we were lucky enough to get the boat
afloat without accident, though she took in several barrels of water
before we were able to get clear from the ship. It was understood that
we were to stay in our places just as we got into them from the ship.
Captain Woods took one of his compasses, and enough of his instruments
to work out our position; but the instruments were of very little use
to us at the start, as it made no difference to us where our position
was when we were hundreds of miles from land in every direction.
"Captain Woods is a hard master, and he keeps regular man-of-war
discipline on his ship. We have often thought him a very severe man,
but his severity came in handy when we were cast away in the boat.
"We had four oars, and there was a mast and a place to ship it, but
there was no sail; we made a sail out of a piece of canvas and got
along very well. Our nearest land was the Bermuda Islands, and so we
steered in that direction, after seeing the ship go down, which she did
within an hour after we took to the boat. She plunged headforemost,
throwing her stern completely into the air; I suppose that's because
the heaviest part of her cargo was forward.
"The captain served out the provisions and water very sparingly, and
we grumbled a little at the way he treated us, but you may be sure we
didn't grumble out aloud, or we might have been pitched overboard.
It was about two in the afternoon when we saw the ship go down. The
captain said it was no use wasting our strength rowing, and so we
simply lay there on the water until we could rig the sail I told you
about. That sail was useful to us in more ways than one, for every time
there came a shower we spread it out and got all the water we could. As
it turned out, we had water and provisions enough for our purpose in
the way the captain served them out; but I'm afraid we would have run
very short if we had been obliged to go to the Bermudas in that open
boat.
"The second day we were on the water we saw a sail, just a speck off
on the southern horizon. We hoisted a signal of distress by putting
the British colors on our mast with the Union down, and we took to the
oars and rowed as hard as we could to get near the vessel's track.
But we were too far off to be seen by the naked eye, and even if her
lookout had had a strong telescope it wouldn't have been easy for him
to find us. It was terrible for us to see that ship go on and sail away
out of sight, and I thought Mrs. Graham would go crazy then and there.
She cried and laughed, and laughed and cried, and went into hysterics,
when she found there was no hope of rescue by that ship. Her husband
tried to cheer her by saying that we would quite likely sight another
ship in a day or two, but it was very hard for him to comfort her. The
girls bore up the bravest of all, and I can't help admiring them. They
were a good deal frightened at first, when they got into the boat and
saw the Evelyn go down into the Atlantic, but they became quite cheery
afterwards, and did a good deal to bring their mother back to her
senses.
"All the next day and the next, we watched for a sail, but saw nothing.
We had sunshine and showers, and showers and sunshine, at irregular
intervals. When the sun shone it was very hot on the waters; when the
showers fell we were all thoroughly drenched; but the showers were
welcome always, as we were able to collect water every time.
"It was the morning of the fifth day after the Evelyn foundered when
we saw the sails of the Washington; and what cheered us was that she
was sailing in a direction which would bring her within seeing distance
of us. We put up our sail and fastened our flag to it with the union
down; and then we watched and waited. As the Washington got off pretty
nearly abreast of us, we were afraid you hadn't seen us; and I tell you
it was an anxious time aboard that boat. When we saw your yards braced
about, and the ship steering down on us, our hearts jumped up into our
throats, and we cheered just as hard as our voices would let us. We
knew then that we were safe; and the rest of the story you know all
about."
I said that the Washington continued on her course as soon as the
castaways had been taken on board and the boats hauled in; she kept
that course for less than an hour, and for this reason:--
When Captain Dawson heard from the master of the Evelyn the history of
the disaster, he suggested that he would go in search of the long boat
and its occupants. Captain Woods said that the mate would undoubtedly
do as he had himself done, provided he could keep the boat afloat;
that is, he would steer for the Bermudas. The Washington's course was
changed so as to sail over the route traversed by the Evelyn's boat.
Her captain thought he had come not far from forty miles a day since
the catastrophe, and, consequently, they were about two hundred miles
from where the Evelyn went down. We sailed for that distance and more,
too, lying-to in the night with bright lights burning, and then sailed
back again to where we had picked up the boat.
No trace could be found of the long boat, nor, in fact, did we see
any sign of the lost Evelyn. If any of the rubbish that usually
encumbers the deck of a merchant ship was floating on the water we did
not pass near enough to discover it. It was doubtless the case that
the long boat sank within a day or two after her separation from the
quarter-boat. It's a good lot of years since that thing happened, and
I've never heard of her crew being picked up by any other ship, or of
her arrival at the Bermudas or any other place.
With a captain of his Majesty's army and his family on board the
Washington, Captain Dawson thought it was proper to have somebody to
wait upon them. His choice fell upon me; and I was taken from my duty
in the starboard watch and installed as cabin-boy. This is the way it
came about.
Mr. Stevens was talking with the captain in a low tone on the
quarter-deck, and called out to one of the sailors,--
"Tell Jack Crane to lay aft!"
I went aft, wondering what I had done to be called there, and what my
punishment would be for the offense which I could only imagine. When I
reached the place where they were standing, the captain said,--
"Jack, Mr. Stevens says you're a handy lad, and I'm going to promote
you. You are relieved from duty in your watch, and will be cabin-boy
the rest of the voyage."
I did not feel like thanking him at all, for I preferred to be forward,
as I had been; but I was obliged to say something, and so I replied,
"Thank you, sir."
"All right," said the captain, "come into the cabin, and I'll tell you
what you're to do."
I followed him in to the cabin,--they call it a saloon on grand
ships,--where Captain Graham and his family were seated. I presume he'd
given them warning, as they were grouped around the table like members
of a royal court when the king is expected to walk in.
"This is Jack Crane," said Captain Dawson; "and he's going to be
cabin-boy the rest of the voyage. I don't believe he knows much about
waiting on gentlemen and ladies, but he's a handy boy around the ship,
and it won't take him long to learn."
Again I didn't know exactly what to say, and I think my embarrassment
must have shown on my face. Captain Graham helped me out by saying,--
"He's a fine-looking youth; and I'm sure that anybody who sails with
Captain Dawson can do anything that is wanted. That's what we say in
England of all you people on the other side of the Atlantic," he
continued, looking at me all the while; "and I think this lad will give
a good account of himself."
"I'll try, sir," said I. "I don't know what is expected of me, and if I
make any blunders I want to be told of 'em at once."
"Spoken like a man," said Captain Graham; "I'm sure we'll get along
well together."
This was my introduction to my duty as cabin-boy; and it is proper to
say that I didn't have much difficulty in learning my duties. Captain
Graham was a gentleman all over, and his wife was a lady if there ever
was one. They had brought up their children to know their duties to
their parents and to others; and I'll say this for 'em, that I never
saw a better mannered pair of their ages than they were. They always
treated me civilly, and had a pleasant "good-morning" for me when they
saw me for the first time during the day.
It was the same with Captain Graham and his wife. I know the captain
was a perfect gentleman because it was so easy to satisfy him. He
never gave me an order or sent me for anything unless it was really
necessary; and I can say the same of his wife. I know I must have been
awkward at times, but he never complained of my awkwardness; and if
there was anything I didn't know, and it became necessary to tell me,
he gave the instructions in the kindest manner imaginable. I had a
very pleasant term of service in the cabin; and when we got to Boston
every one of the family thanked me for my attentions to them, and bade
me a real hearty good-by. We never expected to see each other again,
but Fortune is a funny jade; and later on in this book I'll tell you
something about the circumstances of our next seeing each other.
As soon as they recovered their strength, Mrs. Graham and her elder
daughter set about providing themselves with garments out of the
slop-chest. By great good luck, there was in the bottom of the
slop-chest a roll of blue cloth, of the same kind and quality as that
of which the sailors' jackets and trousers were made. With a little
alteration some of the ready-made jackets fitted the women very well,
and were not at all bad in appearance. From the roll of cloth they made
the lower half of their dresses.
Candor compels me to say that the fitting was not quite equal to that
of a fashionable dressmaker, but for an impromptu affair made on
shipboard it was entirely satisfactory. I hardly had a glimpse of the
women and the girl until the dresses were complete; then they came
out into the cabin and were quite sociable with everybody. By keeping
my ears open I quickly ascertained that the eldest daughter's name
was Violet, and the second one, Mary. Both were very refined in their
manners, and they could hardly help being so in view of the excellent
example which they received from their parents.
In the latter part of the voyage I had frequent conversations with Miss
Violet, who had a good many questions to ask about the United States,
and the way the people lived there. She asked about the cities, and I
was obliged to say that I knew nothing about them. I told her I had
been in only one large city, Boston, and remained there only a very
short time.
"I suppose," said Miss Violet, "that you came directly from the country
to go on board the Washington, did you not?"
"Yes, miss," I answered; "my friend David and I walked from our homes
in New Hampshire to Boston; and the very morning we arrived there we
signed the ship's articles and went on board the Washington."
"Then you don't know what a great city is. I hope sometime you will be
able to see London and go all over it. You will have to stay some time
to do it," she added with a laugh, "as London is the greatest city in
the world."
I replied that I believed it was, and probably my sailor's life would
take me there some time.
She was very much interested in the account I gave her of country life
in New Hampshire,--of the deep snows in winter; the distance between
houses; the long distance we had to go to church on Sunday; and the
schools we attended in winter. I told her all about our farm-life,--how
we worked in the fields in planting-time, haying-season, and harvest,
and what we had on our tables for our meals at different seasons of
the year. Every time I had a conversation with her, her younger sister
listened for a while with almost as much interest as Miss Violet did,
but after a time she grew listless and turned away. When she did so I
usually thought I had talked quite enough, and so I changed or dropped
the subject, and then proceeded about my duties.
I had been relieved from standing watch, as the reader knows, but I
slept in the forecastle just as I had before being appointed cabin-boy.
My companions joked me a good deal about my new associations, and said
they expected I wouldn't condescend to look at them any more. It was
amusing enough at first; but after a time it grew wearisome, and I
intimated as much to Haines.
Thereupon Haines passed the word that the sport at my expense might
as well come to an end. Most of the watch acted upon his suggestion
and gave me no more annoyance. Others kept it up for a while, until
they received a more vigorous reminder, and one of them persisted in
it until he had a little game of fisticuffs with Haines. The row was
all over in a few minutes, as all the rest of the crew took Haines's
part. At the suggestion of one of them the combatants shook hands and
forgave each other, and from this time on I was no longer the subject
of ridicule.
We had no further adventure worth recording during the rest of our
voyage, and in due time made the coast of Massachusetts off Nantucket,
and then steered so as to pass safely around Cape Cod and into Boston
Harbor. As we entered the bay the wind was from the north-west and
quite unsteady. We had hoped to get to the Washington's dock before
night, but on account of the wind we anchored in the lower bay and did
not go up until the following morning.