A LONG CONVERSATION WITH MR. CHUCKS--THE ADVANTAGES OF HAVING A
PRAYER-BOOK IN YOUR POCKET--WE RUN DOWN THE TRADES--SWINBURNE, THE
QUARTER-MASTER, AND HIS YARNS--THE CAPTAIN FALLS SICK.
The next day the captain came on board with sealed orders, with
directions not to open them until off Ushant. In the afternoon, we
weighed and made sail. It was a fine northerly wind, and the Bay of
Biscay was smooth. We bore up, set all the studding sails, and ran
along at the rate of eleven miles an hour. As I could not appear on the
quarter-deck, I was put down on the sick list. Captain Savage, who was
very particular, asked what was the matter with me. The surgeon
replied, "An inflamed eye." The captain asked no more questions; and I
took care to keep out of his way. I walked in the evening on the
forecastle, when I renewed my intimacy with Mr Chucks, the boatswain,
to whom I gave a full narrative of all my adventures in France. "I have
been ruminating, Mr Simple," said he, "how such a stripling as you
could have gone through so much fatigue, and now I know how it is. It
is _blood_, Mr Simple--all blood--you are descended from good blood;
and there's as much difference between nobility and the lower classes,
as there is between a racer and a cart-horse."
"I cannot agree with you, Mr Chucks. Common people are quite as brave
as those who are well-born. You do not mean to say that you are not
brave--that the seamen on board this ship are not brave?"
"No, no, Mr Simple but as I observed about myself, my mother was a
woman who could not be trusted, and there is no saying who was my
father; and she was a very pretty woman to boot, which levels all
distinctions for the moment. As for the seamen, God knows, I should do
them an injustice if I did not acknowledge that they were as brave as
lions. But there are two kinds of bravery, Mr Simple--the bravery of
the moment, and the courage of bearing up for a long while. Do you
understand me?"
"I think I do; but still do not agree with you. Who will bear more
fatigue than our sailors?"
"Yes, yes, Mr Simple, that is because they are _endured_ to it from
their hard life: but if the common sailors were all such little
thread-papers as you, and had been brought up so carefully, they would
not have gone through all you have. That's my opinion, Mr Simple--
there's nothing like _blood_."
"I think, Mr Chucks, you carry your ideas on that subject too far."
"I do not Mr Simple; and I think, moreover, that he who has more to
lose than another will always strive more. But a common man only fights
for his own credit; but when a man is descended from a long line of
people famous in history, and has a coat _in_ arms, criss-crossed, and
stuck all over with lions and unicorns to support the dignity of--why,
has he not to fight for the credit of all his ancestors, whose names
would be disgraced if he didn't behave well?"
"I agree with you, Mr Chucks, in the latter remark, to a certain
extent."
"Mr Simple, we never know the value of good descent when we have it,
but it's when we cannot get it, that we can _'preciate_ it. I wish I
had been born a nobleman--I do, by heavens!" and Mr Chucks slapped his
fist against the funnel, so as to make it ring again. "Well, Mr
Simple," continued he, after a pause, "it is however a great comfort to
me that I have parted company with that fool, Mr Muddle, with his
twenty-six thousand and odd years, and that old woman, Dispart the
gunner. You don't know how those two men used to fret me; it was very
silly, but I couldn't help it. Now the warrant officers of this ship
appear to be very respectable, quiet men who know their duty, and attend
to it, and are not too familiar, which I hate and detest. You went
home, Mr Simple, to your friends, of course, when you arrived in
England?"
"I did, Mr Chucks, and spent some days with my grandfather, Lord
Privilege, whom you say you met at dinner."
"Well, and how was the old gentleman?" inquired the boatswain with a
sigh.
"Very well, considering his age."
"Now do, pray, Mr Simple, tell me all about it; from the time that the
servants met you at the door until you went away. Describe to me the
house and all the rooms, for I like to hear of all these things,
although I can never see them again."
To please Mr Chucks, I entered into a full detail, which he listened to
very attentively, until it was late, and then with difficulty would he
permit me to leave off, and go down to my hammock.
The next day, rather a singular circumstance occurred. One of the
midshipmen was mast-headed by the second lieutenant, for not waiting on
deck until he was relieved. He was down below when he was sent for, and
expecting to be punished from what the head-master told him, he thrust
the first book into his jacket-pocket which he could lay his hand on, to
amuse himself at the mast-head, and then ran on deck. As he surmised he
was immediately ordered aloft. He had not been there more than five
minutes, when a sudden squall carried away the main-topgallant mast, and
away he went flying over to leeward (for the wind: had shifted, and the
yards were now braced up). Had he gone overboard as he could not swim,
he would in all probability have been drowned; but the book in his
pocket brought him up in the jaws of the fore-brace, block, where he
hung until taken out by the main-topmen. Now it so happened that it was
a prayer-book which he had laid hold of in his hurry, and those who were
superstitious declared it was all owing to his having taken a religious
book with him. I did not think so, as any other book would have
answered the purpose quite as well: still the midshipman himself thought
so, and it was productive of good, as he was a sad scamp, and behaved
much better afterwards.
But I had nearly forgotten to mention a circumstance which occurred on
the day of our sailing, which will be eventually found to have had a
great influence upon my after-life. It was this I received a letter
from my father, evidently written in great vexation and annoyance,
informing me that my uncle, whose wife I have already mentioned had two
daughters, and was again expected to be confined, had suddenly broke up
his housekeeping, discharged every servant, and proceeded to Ireland
under an assumed name. No reason had been given for this unaccountable
proceeding; and not even my grandfather, or any of the members of the
family, had had notice of his intention. Indeed, it was by mere
accident that his departure was discovered, about a fortnight after it
had taken place. My father had taken a great deal of pains to find out
where he was residing; but although my uncle was traced to Cork, from
that town all clue was lost, but still it was supposed, from inquiries,
that he was not very far from thence. "Now," observed my father, in his
letter, "I cannot help surmising, that my brother, in his anxiety to
retain the advantages of a title to his own family, has resolved to
produce to the world a spurious child as his own, by some contrivance or
another. His wife's health is very bad, and she is not likely to have a
large family. Should the one now expected prove a daughter, there is
little chance of his ever having another and I have no hesitation in
declaring it my conviction, that the measure has been taken with a view
of defrauding you of your chance of eventually being called to the House
of Lords."
I showed this letter to O'Brien, who, after reading it over two or three
times, gave his opinion that my father was right in his conjectures.
"Depend upon it, Peter, there's foul play intended, that is, if foul
play is rendered necessary."
"But, O'Brien, I cannot imagine why, if my uncle has no son of his own,
he should prefer acknowledging a son of any other person's instead of
his own nephew."
"But I can, Peter: your uncle is not a man likely to live very long, as
you know. The doctor says that, with his short neck, his life is not
worth two years' purchase. Now if he had a son, consider that his
daughters would be much better off, and much more likely to get married;
besides, there are many reasons which I won't talk about now, because
it's no use making you think your uncle to be a scoundrel. But I'll
tell you what I'll do. I'll go down to my cabin directly, and write to
Father McGrath, telling him the whole affair, and desiring him to ferret
him out, and watch him narrowly, and I'll bet you a dozen of claret,
that in less than a week he'll find him out, and will dog him to the
last. He'll get hold of his Irish servants, and you little know the
power that a priest has in our country. Now give the description as
well as you can of your uncle's appearance, also of that of his wife,
and the number of their family, and their ages. Father McGrath must
have all particulars, and then let him alone for doing what is needful."
I complied with O'Brien's directions as well as I could, and he wrote a
very long letter to Father McGrath, which was sent on shore by a careful
hand. I answered my father's letter, and then thought no more about the
matter.
Our sealed orders were opened, and proved our destination to be the West
Indies, as we expected. We touched at Madeira to take in some wine for
the ship's company; but as we only remained one day, we were not
permitted to go on shore. Fortunate indeed would it have been if we had
never gone there; for the day after, our captain, who had dined with the
consul, was taken alarmingly ill. From the symptoms, the surgeon
dreaded that he had been poisoned by something which he had eaten, and
which most probably had been cooked in a copper vessel not properly
tinned. We were all very anxious that he should recover; but, on the
contrary, he appeared to grow worse and worse every day, wasting away,
and dying, as they say, by inches. At last he was put in his cot, and
never rose from it again. This melancholy circumstance, added to the
knowledge that we were proceeding to an unhealthy climate, caused a
gloom throughout the ship; and although the trade wind carried us along
bounding over the bright blue sea--although the weather was now warm,
yet not too warm--although the sun rose in splendour, and all was
beautiful and cheering, the state of the captain's health was a check to
all mirth. Every one trod the deck softly, and spoke in a low voice,
that he might not be disturbed; all were anxious to have the morning
report of the surgeon, and our conversation was generally upon the
sickly climate, the yellow fever, of death and the palisades where they
buried us. Swinburne, the quarter-master, was in my watch, and as he
had been long in the West Indies, I used to obtain all the information
from him that I could.
The old fellow had a secret pleasure in frightening me as much as he
could. "Really, Mr Simple, you ax so many questions," he would say, as
I accosted him while he was at his station at the _conn_, "I wish you
wouldn't ax so many questions, and make yourself uncomfortable--`steady
so'--`steady it is;'--with regard to Yellow Jack, as we calls the yellow
fever; it's a devil incarnate, that's sartain--you're well and able to
take your allowance in the morning, and dead as a herring 'fore night.
First comes a bit of a headache--you goes to the doctor, who bleeds you
like a pig--then you go out of your senses--then up comes the black
vomit, and then it's all over with you, and you go to the land crabs,
who pick your bones as clean and as white as a sea elephant's tooth.
But there be one thing to be said in favour of Yellow Jack, a'ter all.
You dies _straight_, like a gentleman--not cribbled up like a snow-fish,
chucked out on the ice of the river St. Lawrence, with your knees up to
your nose, or your toes stuck into your arm-pits, as does take place in
some of your foreign complaints; but straight, quite straight, and
limber, like a _gentleman_. Still Jack is a little mischievous, that's
sartain. In the _Euridiscy_ we had as fine a ship's company as was ever
piped aloft--`Steady, starboard, my man, you're half a pint off your
course;'--we dropped our anchor in Port Royal, and we thought that there
was mischief brewing, for thirty-eight sharks followed the ship into the
harbour, and played about us day and night. I used to watch them during
the night watch, as their fins, above water, skimmed along, leaving a
trail of light behind them; and the second night I said to the sentry
abaft, as I was looking at them smelling under the counter--`Soldier,'
says I, `them sharks are mustering under the orders of Yellow Jack;' and
I no sooner mentioned Yellow Jack, than the sharks gave a frisky plunge,
every one of them, as much as to say, `Yes, so we are, damn your eyes.'
The soldier was so frightened, that he would have fallen overboard, if I
hadn't caught him by the scruff of the neck, for he was standing on the
top of the taffrail. As it was, he dropped his musket over the stern,
which the sharks dashed at from every quarter, making the sea look like
fire--and he had it charged to his wages, 1 pound 15 shillings, I think.
However, the fate of his musket gave him an idea of what would have
happened to him, if he had fallen instead of it--and he never got on the
taffrail again. `Steady, port--mind your helm, Smith--you can listen to
my yarn all the same.' Well, Mr Simple, Yellow Jack came, sure enough.
First the purser was called to account for all his roguery. We didn't
care much about the land crabs eating him, who made so many poor dead
men chew tobacco, cheating their wives and relations, or Greenwich
Hospital, as it might happen. Then went two of the middies, just about
your age, Mr Simple; they, poor fellows, went off in a sad hurry; then
went the master--and so it went on, till at last we had no more nor
sixty men left in the ship--The captain died last, and then Yellow Jack
had filled his maw, and left the rest of us alone. As soon as the
captain died, all the sharks left the ship, and we never saw any more of
them."
Such were the yarns told to me and the other midshipmen during the
night-watches; and I can assure the reader that they gave us no small
alarm. Every day that we worked our day's work, and found ourselves so
much nearer to the islands, did we feel as if we were so much nearer to
our graves. I once spoke to O'Brien about it, and he laughed. "Peter,"
says he, "fear kills more people than the yellow fever, or any other
complaint of the West Indies. Swinburne is an old rogue, and only
laughing at you. The devil's not half so black as he's painted--nor the
yellow fever half so yellow, I presume." We were now fast nearing the
island of Barbadoes, the weather was beautiful, the wind always fair;
the flying fish rose in shoals, startled by the foaming seas, which
rolled away, and roared from the bows as our swift frigate cleaved
through the water; the porpoises played about us in thousands--the
bonetas and dolphins at one time chased the flying fish, and, at others,
appeared to be delighted in keeping company with the rapid vessel.
Everything was beautiful, and we all should have been happy, had it not
been for the state of Captain Savage, in the first place, who daily
became worse and worse, and from the dread of the hell which we were
about to enter through such a watery paradise. Mr Falcon, who was in
command, was grave and thoughtful; he appeared indeed to be quite
miserable at the chance which would insure his own promotion. In every
attention and every care that could be taken to insure quiet, and afford
relief to the captain, he was unremitting; the offence of making a noise
was now, with him, a greater crime than drunkenness, or even mutiny.
"When within three days' sail of Barbadoes, it fell almost calm, and the
captain became much worse; and now, for the first time, did we behold
the great white shark" of the Atlantic. There are several kinds of
sharks, but the most dangerous are the great white shark and the ground
shark. The former grows to an enormous length--the latter is seldom
very long, not more than twelve feet, but spreads to a great breadth.
We could not hook the sharks as they played around us, for Mr Falcon
would not permit it, lest the noise of hauling them on board should
disturb the captain. A breeze again sprang up. In two days we were
close to the island, and the men were desired to look out for the land.