IN WHICH THE OLD PROVERB IS ILLUSTRATED, "THAT YOU MUST NOT COUNT YOUR
CHICKENS BEFORE THEY ARE HATCHED."
The first lieutenant of the _Aurora_ was a very good officer in many
respects, but, as a midshipman, he had contracted the habit of putting
his hands in his pockets, and could never keep them out, even when the
ship was in a gale of wind; and hands are of some use in a heavy lurch.
He had more than once received serious injury from falling on these
occasions, but habit was too powerful; and, although he had once broken
his leg by falling down the hatchway, and had moreover a large scar on
his forehead, received from being thrown to leeward against one of the
guns, he still continued the practice; indeed, it was said that once,
when it was necessary for him to go aloft, he had actually taken the two
first rounds of the Jacob's ladder without withdrawing them, until,
losing his balance, he discovered that it was not quite so easy to go
aloft with his hands in his pockets. In fact, there was no getting up
his hands, even when all hands were turned up. He had another
peculiarity, which was, that he had taken a peculiar fancy to a quack
medicine, called Enouy's Universal Medicine for all Mankind; and Mr
Pottyfar was convinced in his own mind that the label was no libel,
except from the greatness of its truth. In his opinion, it cured
everything, and he spent one of his quarterly bills every year in
bottles of this stuff; which he not only took himself every time he was
unwell, but occasionally when quite well, to prevent his falling sick.
He recommended it to everybody in the ship, and nothing pleased him so
much as to give a dose of it to every one who could be persuaded to take
it.
The officers laughed at him, but it was generally behind his back, for
he became very angry if contradicted upon this one point, upon which he
certainly might be considered to be a little cracked. He was
indefatigable in making proselytes to his creed, and expatiated upon the
virtues of the medicine for an hour running, proving the truth of his
assertion by a pamphlet, which, with his hands, he always carried in his
trousers pocket.
Jack reported himself when he came on board, and Mr Pottyfar, who was
on the quarter-deck at the time, expressed a hope that Mr Easy would
take his share of the duty, now that he had had such a spell on shore;
to which Jack very graciously acceded, and then went down below, where
he found Gascoigne and his new messmates, with most of whom he was
already acquainted.
"Well, Easy," said Gascoigne, "have you had enough of the shore?"
"Quite," replied Jack, recollecting that after the events of the night
before he was just as well on board; "I don't intend to ask for any more
leave."
"Perhaps it's quite as well, for Mr Pottyfar is not very liberal on
that score, I can tell you; there is but one way of getting leave from
him."
"Indeed," replied Jack; "and what is that?"
"You must pretend that you are not well, take some of his quack
medicine, and then he will allow you a run on shore to work it off."
"Oh! that's it, is it? well then, as soon as we anchor in Valette, I'll
go through a regular course, but not till then."
"It ought to suit you, Jack; it's an equality medicine; cures one
disorder just as well as the other."
"Or kills--which levels all the patients. You're right, Gascoigne, I
must patronise that stuff--for more reasons than one. Who was that
person on deck in mufti?"
"The mufti, Jack? in other words, the chaplain of the ship; but he's a
prime sailor, nevertheless."
"How's that?"
"Why, he was brought up on the quarter-deck, served his time, was acting
lieutenant for two years, and then, somehow or other, he bore up for the
church."
"Indeed--what were his reasons?"
"No one knows--but they say he has been unhappy ever since."
"Why so?"
"Because he did a very foolish thing, which cannot now be remedied. He
supposed at the time that he would make a good parson, and now that he
has long got over his fit, he finds himself wholly unfit for it--he is
still the officer in heart, and is always struggling with his natural
bent, which is very contrary to what a parson should feel."
"Why don't they allow parsons to be broke by a court-martial, and turned
out of the service, or to resign their commissions, like other people?"
"It won't do, Jack--they serve Heaven--there's a difference between that
and serving his Majesty."
"Well, I don't understand these things. When do we sail?"
"The day after to-morrow."
"To join the fleet off Toulon?"
"Yes; but I suppose we shall be driven on the Spanish coast going there.
I never knew a man-of-war that was not."
"No; wind always blows from the South going up the Mediterranean."
"Perhaps you'll take another prize, Jack--mind you don't go away without
the articles of war."
"I won't go away without Mesty, if I can help it. Oh, dear, how
abominable a midshipman's berth is after a long run on shore! I
positively must go on deck and look at the shore, if I can do nothing
else."
"Why, ten minutes ago you had had enough of it."
"Yes, but ten minutes here has made me feel quite sick. I shall go to
the first lieutenant for a dose."
"I say, Easy, we must both be physicked on the same day."
"To be sure; but stop till we get to Malta."
Jack went on deck, made acquaintance with the chaplain and some of the
officers whom he had not known, then climbed up into the maintop, where
he took a seat on the armolest, and, as he looked at the shore, thought
over the events that had passed, until Agnes came to his memory, and he
thought only of her. When a mid is in love, he always goes aloft to
think of the object of his affection; why, I don't know, except that his
reverie is not so likely to be disturbed by an order from a superior
officer.
The _Aurora_ sailed on the second day, and with a fine breeze, stood
across, making as much northing as easting; the consequence was, that
one fine morning they saw the Spanish coast before they saw the Toulon
fleet. Mr Pottyfar took his hands out of his pockets, because he could
not examine the coast through a telescope without so doing; but this, it
is said, was the first time that he had done so on the quarter-deck from
the day that the ship had sailed from Port Mahon. Captain Wilson was
also occupied with his telescope, so were many of the officers and
midshipmen, and the men at the mast-heads used their eyes, but there was
nothing but a few small fishing-boats to be seen. So they all went down
to breakfast, as the ship was hove-to close in with the land.
"What will Easy bet," said one of the midshipmen, "that we don't see a
prize to-day?"
"I will not bet that we do not see a vessel--but I'll bet you what you
please, that we do not take one before twelve o'clock at night."
"No, no, that won't do--just let the teapot travel over this way, for
it's my forenoon watch."
"It's a fine morning," observed one of the mates, of the name of Martin;
"but I've a notion it won't be a fine evening."
"Why not?" inquired another.
"I've now been eight years in the Mediterranean, and know something
about the weather. There's a watery sky, and the wind is very steady.
If we are not under double-reefed topsails to-night, say I'm no
conjuror."
"That you will be, all the same, if we are under bare poles," said
another.
"You're devilish free with your tongue, my youngster. Easy, pull his
ears for me."
"Pull them easy, Jack, then," said the boy, laughing.
"All hands make sail!" now resounded at the hatchways.
"There they are, depend upon it," cried Gascoigne, catching up his hat
and bolting out of the berth, followed by all the others except Martin,
who had just been relieved, and thought that his presence in the waist
might be dispensed with for the short time, at least, which it took him
to swallow a cup of tea.
It was very true; a galliot and four lateen vessels had just made their
appearance round the easternmost point, and, as soon as they observed
the frigate, had hauled their wind. In a minute the _Aurora_ was under
a press of canvas, and the telescopes were all directed to the vessels.
"All deeply laden, sir," observed Mr Hawkins, the chaplain; "how the
topsail of the galliot is scored!"
"They have a fresh breeze just now," observed Captain Wilson to the
first lieutenant.
"Yes, sir, and it's coming down fast."
"Hands by the royal halyards, there."
The _Aurora_ careened with the canvas to the rapidly increasing breeze.
"Top-gallant sheet and halyards."
"Luff you may, quarter-master; luff, I tell you. A small pull of that
weather maintop-gallant brace--that will do," said the master.
"Top-men aloft there;--stand by to clew up the royals--and, Captain
Wilson, shall we take them in?--I'm afraid of that pole--it bends now
like a coach-whip," said Mr Pottyfar, looking up aloft, with his hands
in both pockets.
"In royals--lower away."
"They are going about, sir," said the second lieutenant, Mr Haswell.
"Look out," observed the chaplain, "it's coming." Again the breeze
increased, and the frigate was borne down.
"Hands reef topsails in stays, Mr Pottyfar."
"Ay, ay, sir--'bout ship."
The helm was put down and the topsails lowered and reefed in stays.
"Very well, my lads, very well indeed," said Captain Wilson.
Again the topsails were hoisted and top-gallant sheets home. It was a
strong breeze, although the water was smooth, and the _Aurora_ dashed
through at the rate of eight miles an hour, with her weather leeches
lifting.
"Didn't I tell you so?" said Martin to his mess-mates on the gangway;
"but there's more yet, my boys."
"We must take the top-gallant sails off her," said Captain Wilson,
looking aloft--for the frigate now careened to her bearings, and the
wind was increasing and squally. "Try them a little longer;" but
another squall came suddenly--the halyards were lowered, and the sails
clewed up and furled.
In the meantime the frigate had rapidly gained upon the vessels, which
still carried on every stitch of canvas, making short tacks in-shore.
The _Aurora_ was again put about with her head towards them, and they
were not two points on her weather bow. The sky, which had been clear
in the morning, was now overcast, the sun was obscured with opaque white
clouds, and the sea was rising fast. Another ten minutes, and then they
were under double-reefed topsails, and the squalls were accompanied with
heavy rain. The frigate now dashed through the waves, foaming in her
course and straining under the press of sail. The horizon was so thick
that the vessels ahead were no longer to be seen.
"We shall have it, I expect," said Captain Wilson.
"Didn't I say so?" observed Martin to Gascoigne. "We take no prizes
this day, depend upon it."
"We must have another hand to the wheel, sir, if you please," said the
quarter-master, who was assisting the helmsman.
Mr Pottyfar, with his hands concealed as usual, stood by the capstern.
"I fear, sir, we cannot carry the mainsail much longer."
"No," observed the chaplain, "I was thinking so."
"Captain Wilson, if you please, we are very close in," said the master:
"don't you think we had better go about?"
"Yes, Mr Jones. Hands about ship--and--yes, by heavens, we must!--up
mainsail."
The mainsail was taken off, and the frigate appeared to be immediately
relieved. She no longer jerked and plunged as before.
"We're very near the land, Captain Wilson; thick as it is, I think I can
make out the loom of it--shall we wear round, sir?" continued the
master.
"Yes--hands wear ship--put the helm up."
It was but just in time, for, as the frigate flew round, describing a
circle, as she payed off before the wind, they could perceive the
breakers lashing the precipitous coast not two cables' length from them.
"I had no idea we were so near," observed the captain, compressing his
lips--"can they see anything of those vessels?"
"I have not seen them this quarter of an hour, sir," replied the
signalman, protecting his glass from the rain under his jacket.
"How's her head now, quarter-master?"
"South south-east, sir."
The sky now assumed a different appearance--the white clouds had been
exchanged for others dark and murky, the wind roared at intervals, and
the rain came down in torrents. Captain Wilson went down into the cabin
to examine the barometer.
"The barometer has risen," said he on his return on deck. "Is the wind
steady?"
"No, sir, she's up and off three points."
"This will end in a south-wester."
The wet and heavy sails now flapped from the shifting of the wind.
"Up with the helm, quarter-master."
"Up it is--she's off to south-by-west."
The wind lulled, the rain came down in a deluge--for a minute it was
quite calm, and the frigate was on an even keel.
"Man the braces. We shall be taken aback directly, depend upon it."
The braces were hardly stretched along before this was the case. The
wind flew round to the south-west with a loud roar, and it was fortunate
that they were prepared--the yards were braced round, and the master
asked the captain what course they were to steer.
"We must give it up," observed Captain Wilson, holding on by the
belaying pin. "Shape our course for Cape Sicie, Mr Jones."
And the _Aurora_ flew before the gale, under her foresail and topsails
close reefed. The weather was now so thick that nothing could be
observed twenty yards from the vessel; the thunder pealed, and the
lightning darted in every direction over the dark expanse. The watch
was called as soon as the sails were trimmed, and all who could went
below, wet, uncomfortable, and disappointed.
"What an old Jonah you are, Martin," said Gascoigne.
"Yes, I am," replied he; "but we have the worst to come yet, in my
opinion. I recollect, not two hundred miles from where we are now, we
had just such a gale in the _Favourite_, and we as nearly went down,
when--"
At this moment a tremendous noise was heard above, a shock was felt
throughout the whole ship, which trembled fore and aft as if it were
about to fall into pieces; loud shrieks were followed by plaintive
cries, the lower deck was filled with smoke, and the frigate was down on
her beam ends. Without exchanging a word, the whole of the occupants of
the berth flew out, and were up the hatchway, not knowing what to think,
but convinced that some dreadful accident had taken place.
On their gaining the deck it was at once explained; the foremast of the
frigate had been struck by lightning, had been riven into several
pieces, and had fallen over the larboard bow, carrying with it the main
topmast and jib-boom. The jagged stump of the foremast was in flames,
and burned brightly, notwithstanding the rain fell in torrents. The
ship, as soon as the foremast and main topmast had gone overboard,
broached-to furiously, throwing the men over the wheel and dashing them
senseless against the carronades; the forecastle, the fore part of the
main deck, and even the lower deck, were spread with men, either killed
or seriously wounded or insensible from the electric shock. The frigate
was on her beam ends, and the sea broke furiously over her; all was dark
as pitch, except the light from the blazing stump of the foremast,
appearing like a torch, held up by the wild demons of the storm, or when
occasionally the gleaming lightning cast a momentary glare, threatening
every moment to repeat its attack upon the vessel, while the deafening
thunder burst almost on their devoted heads. All was dismay and
confusion for a minute or two: at last Captain Wilson, who had himself
lost his sight for a short time, called for the carpenter and axes--they
climbed up, that is, two or three of them, and he pointed to the
mizzen-mast; the master was also there, and he cut loose the axes for
the seamen to use; in a few minutes the mizzen-mast fell over the
quarter, and the helm being put hard up, the frigate payed off and
slowly righted. But the horror of the scene was not yet over. The
boatswain, who had been on the forecastle, had been led below, for his
vision was gone for ever. The men who lay scattered about had been
examined, and they were assisting them down to the care of the surgeon,
when the cry of "Fire!" issued from the lower deck. The ship had taken
fire at the coal-hole and carpenter's storeroom, and the smoke that now
ascended was intense.
"Call the drummer," said Captain Wilson, "and let him beat to quarters--
all hands to their stations--let the pumps be rigged and the buckets
passed along. Mr Martin, see that the wounded men are taken down
below. Where's Mr Haswell? Mr Pottyfar, station the men to pass the
water on by hand on the lower deck. I will go there myself. Mr Jones,
take charge of the ship."
Pottyfar, who actually had taken his hands out of his pockets, hastened
down to comply with the captain's orders on the main deck, as Captain
Wilson descended to the deck below.
"I say, Jack, this is very different from this morning," observed
Gascoigne.
"Yes," replied Jack, "so it is; but I say, Gascoigne, what's the best
thing to do?--when the chimney's on fire on shore, they put a wet
blanket over it."
"Yes," replied Gascoigne; "but when the coal-hole's on fire on board,
they will not find that sufficient."
"At all events, wet blankets must be a good thing, Ned, so let us pull
out the hammocks; cut the lanyards and get some out--we can but offer
them, you know, and if they do no good, at least it will show our zeal."
"Yes, Jack, and I think when they turn in again, those whose blankets
you take will agree with you that zeal makes the service very
uncomfortable. However, I think you are right."
The two midshipmen collected three or four hands, and in a very short
time they had more blankets than they could carry--there was no trouble
in wetting them, for the main deck was afloat--and followed by the men
they had collected, Easy and Gascoigne went down with large bundles in
their arms to where Captain Wilson was giving directions to the men.
"Excellent, Mr Easy! excellent, Mr Gascoigne;" said Captain Wilson.
"Come, my lads, throw them over now, and stamp upon them well;" the
men's jackets and the captain's coat had already been sacrificed to the
same object.
Easy called the other midshipmen, and they went up for a further supply;
but there was no occasion, the fire had been smothered: still the danger
had been so great that the fore magazine had been floated. During all
this, which lasted perhaps a quarter of an hour, the frigate had rolled
gunwale under, and many were the accidents which occurred. At last all
danger from fire had ceased, and the men were ordered to return to their
quarters, when three officers and forty-seven men were found absent--
seven of them were dead--most of them were already under the care of the
surgeon, but some were still lying in the scuppers.
No one had been more active or more brave during this time of danger
than Mr Hawkins the chaplain. He was everywhere, and when Captain
Wilson went down to put out the fire he was there, encouraging the men
and exerting himself most gallantly. He and Mesty came aft when all was
over, one just as black as the other. The chaplain sat down and wrung
his hands--"God forgive me!" said he, "God forgive me!"
"Why so, sir?" said Easy, who stood near, "I am sure you need not be
ashamed of what you have done."
"No, no, not ashamed of what I've done; but, Mr Easy--I have sworn so,
sworn such oaths at the men in my haste--I, the chaplain! God forgive
me!--I meant nothing." It was very true that Mr Hawkins had sworn a
great deal during his exertions, but he was at that time the
quarter-deck officer and not the chaplain; the example to the men and
his gallantry had been most serviceable.
"Indeed, sir," said Easy, who saw that the chaplain was in great
tribulation, and hoped to pacify him, "I was certainly not there all the
time, but I only heard you say, `God bless you, my men! be smart,' and
so on; surely, that is not swearing."
"Was it _that_ I said, Mr Easy, are you sure? I really had an idea
that I had damned them all in heaps, as some of them deserved--no, no,
not deserved. Did I really bless them--nothing but bless them?"
"Yes, sir," said Mesty, who perceived what Jack wanted; "it was nothing,
I assure you, but `God bless you, Captain Wilson!--Bless your heart, my
good men!--Bless the king!' and so on. You do noting but shower down
blessing and wet blanket."
"I told you so," said Jack.
"Well, Mr Easy, you've made me very happy," replied the chaplain; "I
was afraid it was otherwise."
So indeed it was, for the chaplain had sworn like a boatswain; but, as
Jack and Mesty had turned all his curses into blessings, the poor man
gave himself absolution, and shaking hands with Jack, hoped he would
come down into the gun-room and take a glass of grog; nor did he forget
Mesty, who received a good allowance at the gun-room door, to which Jack
gladly consented, as the rum in the middy's berth had all been exhausted
after the rainy morning--but Jack was interrupted in his third glass, by
somebody telling him the captain wanted to speak with Mr Hawkins and
with him.
Jack went up and found the captain on the quarter-deck with the
officers.
"Mr Easy," said Captain Wilson, "I have sent for you, Mr Hawkins, and
Mr Gascoigne, to thank you on the quarter-deck, for your exertions and
presence of mind on this trying occasion." Mr Hawkins made a bow.
Gascoigne said nothing, but he thought of having extra leave when they
arrived at Malta. Jack felt inclined to make a speech, and began
something about when there was danger that it levelled every one to an
equality even on board of a man-of-war.
"By no means, Mr Easy," replied Captain Wilson, "it does the very
contrary, for it proves which is the best man, and those who are the
best raise themselves at once above the rest."
Jack was very much inclined to argue the point, but he took the
compliment and held his tongue, which was the wisest thing he could have
done; so he made his bow, and was about to go down into the midshipmen's
berth when the frigate was pooped by a tremendous sea, which washed all
those who did not hold on down into the waist. Jack was among the
number, and naturally catching at the first object which touched him, he
caught hold of the chaplain by the leg, who commenced swearing most
terribly, but before he could finish the oath, the water, which had
burst into the cabin through the windows--for the dead-lights, in the
confusion, had not yet been shipped--burst out the cross bulkheads,
sweeping like a torrent the marine, the cabin-door, and everything else
in its force, and floating Jack and the chaplain with several others
down the main hatchway on to the lower deck. The lower deck being also
full of water, men and chests were rolling and tossing about, and Jack
was sometimes in company with the chaplain, and at other times
separated; at last they both recovered their legs, and gained the
midshipmen's berth, which, although afloat, was still a haven of
security. Mr Hawkins spluttered and spit, and so did Jack, until he
began to laugh.
"This is very trying, Mr Easy," said the chaplain: "very trying indeed
to the temper. I hope I have not sworn--I hope not."
"Not a word," said Jack--"I was close to you all the time--you only
said, `God preserve us!'"
"Only that? I was afraid that I said `God damn it!'"
"Quite a mistake, Mr Hawkins. Let's go into the gun-room, and try to
wash this salt water out of our mouths, and then I will tell you all you
said, as far as I could hear it, word for word."
So Jack by this means got another glass of grog, which was very
acceptable in his wet condition, and made himself very comfortable,
while those on deck were putting on the dead-lights, and very busy
setting the goose-wings of the mainsail, to prevent the frigate from
being pooped a second time.