ONE OF THE UPS AND DOWNS OF LIFE.--UP BEFORE THE MAGISTRATES, THEN DOWN
THE RIVER AGAIN IN THE LIGHTER.--THE TOMS.--A LIGHT HEART UPON TWO
STICKS.--RECEIVE MY FIRST LESSON IN SINGING.--OUR LIGHTER WELL-MANNED
WITH TWO BOYS AND A FRACTION.
I did not awake the next morning till roused by the police, who brought
us up before the magistrates. The crowd that followed appeared to make
no distinction between the prisoners and the witness, and remarks not
very complimentary, and to me very annoying, were liberally made. "He's
a young hand for such work," cried one. "There's gallows marked in his
face," observed another, to whom, when I turned round to look at him, I
certainly could have returned the compliment. The station was not far
from the magistrates' office, and we soon arrived. The principal
officer went into the inner room, and communicated with the magistrates
before they came out and took their seats on the bench.
"Where is Jacob Faithful? My lad, do you know the nature of an oath?"
I answered in the affirmative; the oath was administered, and my
evidence taken down. It was then read over to the prisoners, who were
asked if they had anything to say in their defence. Fleming, who had
sent for his lawyer, was advised to make no answer. Marables quietly
replied, that all the boy had said was quite true.
"Recollect," said the magistrate, "we cannot accept you as king's
evidence; that of the boy is considered sufficient."
"I did not intend that you should," replied Marables. "I only want to
ease my conscience, not to try for my pardon."
They were then committed for trial, and led away to prison. I could not
help going up to Marables and shaking his hand, before he was led away.
He lifted up his two arms, for he was still handcuffed, and wiped his
eyes, saying, "Let this be a warning to you, Jacob--not that I think you
need it; but still I once was honest as yourself--and look at me now."
And he cast his eyes down sorrowfully upon his fettered wrists. They
quitted the room, Fleming giving me a look which was very significant of
what my chance would be if ever I fell into his clutches.
"We must detain you, my lad," observed one of the magistrates, "without
you can procure a sufficient bail for your appearance as witness on the
trial."
I replied that I knew of no one except my master, Mr Drummond, and my
schoolmaster; and had no means of letting them know of my situation.
The magistrate then directed the officer to go down by the first
Brentford coach, acquaint Mr Drummond with what had passed, and that
the lighter would remain in charge of the river police until he could
send hands on board of her; and I was allowed to sit down on the bench
behind the bar. It was not until past noon that Mr Drummond,
accompanied by the Dominie, made his appearance. To save time, the
magistrates gave them my deposition to read; they put in bail, and I was
permitted to leave the court. We went down by the coach, but as they
went inside and I was out, I had not many questions asked until my
arrival at Mr Drummond's house, when I gave them a detailed account of
all that had happened.
"Proh! Deus!" exclaimed the Dominie, when I had finished my story.
"What an escape! How narrowly, as Propertius hath it femininely,
`_Eripitur nobis jumpridem carus puer_.' Well was it that thou hadst
learnt to swim--verily thou must have struggled lustily. _`Pugnat in
adversas ire natator aquas_,' yea, lustily for thy life, child. Now,
God be praised!"
But Mr Drummond was anxious that the lighter should be brought back to
the wharf; he therefore gave me my dinner, for I had eaten nothing that
day, and then despatched me in a boat with two men, to bring her up the
river. The next morning we arrived; and Mr Drummond, not having yet
selected any other person to take her in charge, I was again some days
on shore, dividing my time between the Dominie and Mr Drummond's, where
I was always kindly treated, not only by him, but also by his wife and
his little daughter Sarah.
A master for the lighter was soon found; and as I passed a considerable
time under his orders, I must describe him particularly. He had served
the best part of his life on board a man-of-war, had been in many
general and single actions, and, at the battle of Trafalgar, had wound
up his servitude with the loss of both his legs and an out-pension from
the Greenwich Hospital, which he preferred to being received upon the
establishment, as he had a wife and child. Since that time he had
worked on the river. He was very active, and broad-shouldered, and had
probably, before he lost his legs, been a man of at least five feet
eleven or six feet high; but as he found that he could keep his balance
better upon short stumps than long ones, he had reduced his wooden legs
to about eight inches in length, which, with his square body, gave him
the appearance of a huge dwarf. He bore, and I will say most
deservedly, an excellent character. His temper was always cheerful, and
he was a little inclined to drink: but the principal feature in him was
lightness of heart; he was always singing. His voice was very fine and
powerful. When in the service he used to be summoned to sing to the
captain and officers, and was the delight of the forecastle. His memory
was retentive, and his stock of songs incredible, at the same time, he
seldom or ever sang more than one or two stanzas of a song in the way of
quotation, or if apt to what was going on, often altering the words to
suit the occasion. He was accompanied by his son Tom, a lad of my own
age, as merry as his father, and who had a good treble voice and a good
deal of humour; he would often take the song up from his father, with
words of his own putting in, with ready wit and good tune. We three
composed the crew of the lighter; and, as there had already been
considerable loss from demurrage, were embarked as soon as they arrived.
The name of the father was Tom Beazeley, but he was always known on the
river as "old Tom" or, as some more learned wag had christened him, "the
_Merman on two sticks_." As soon as we had put our traps on board, as
old Tom called them, he received his orders, and we cast off from the
wharf. The wind was favourable. Young Tom was as active as a monkey,
and as full of tricks. His father took the helm, while we two, assisted
by a dog of the small Newfoundland breed, which Tom had taught to take a
rope in his teeth, and be of no small service to two boys in bowsing on
a tackle, made sail upon the lighter, and away we went, while old Tom's
strain might be heard from either shore.
"Loose, loose every sail to the breeze,
The course of the vessel improve,
I've done with the toil of the seas,
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love.
"Tom, you beggar, is the bundle ready for your mother? We must drop the
skiff, Jacob, at Battersea reach, and send the clothes on shore for the
old woman to wash, or there'll be no clean shirts for Sunday. Shove in
your shirts, Jacob; the old woman won't mind that. She used to wash for
the mess. Clap on, both of you, and get another pull at those
haulyards. That'll do, my bantams.
"Hoist, hoist, every sail to the breeze,
Come, shipmates, and join in the song,
Let's drink while the barge cuts the seas,
To the gale that may drive her along.
"Tom, where's my pot of tea? Come, my boy, we must pipe to breakfast.
Jacob, there's a rope towing overboard. Now, Tom, hand me my tea, and
I'll steer her with one hand, drink with the other, and as for the legs,
the less we say about them the better.
"No glory I covet, no riches I want,
Ambition is nothing to me.
But one thing I beg of kind Heaven to grant--"