SHOWS WHAT SOME MEN WILL DO AND DARE FOR MONEY, AND WHAT SOMETIMES COMES
OF IT.
We must now beg the reader's permission to allow a few more years to
elapse. Eight have come and gone since the dark day when poor Mrs
Boyns received that message from the sea, which cast a permanent cloud
over her life. Annie Webster has become a beautiful woman, and Harry
Boyns a bronzed stalwart man.
But things have changed with time. These two seldom meet now, in
consequence of the frequent absence of the latter on long voyages, and
when they do meet, there is not the free, frank intercourse that there
used to be. In fact, Mr Webster had long ago begun to suspect that his
daughter's regard for the handsome young sailor was of a nature that
bade fair to interfere with his purposed mercantile transactions in
reference to her, so he wisely sent him off on voyages of considerable
length, hoping that he might chance to meet with the same fate as his
father, and wound up by placing him in command of one of his largest and
most unseaworthy East Indiamen, in the full expectation that both
captain and vessel would go to the bottom together, and thus enable him,
at one stroke, to make a good round sum out of the insurance offices,
and get rid of a troublesome servant!
Gloating over these and kindred subjects, Mr Webster sat one morning in
his office mending a pen, and smiling in a sardonic fashion to the
portrait of his deceased wife's father, when a tap came to the door, and
Harry Boyns entered.
"I have come, sir," he said, "to tell you that the repairs done to the
_Swordfish_ are not by any means sufficient. There are at least--"
"Please do not waste time, Captain Boyns, by entering upon details,"
said Mr Webster, interrupting him with a bland smile: "I am really
quite ignorant of the technicalities of shipbuilding. If you will state
the matter to Mr Cooper, whom I employ expressly for--"
"But, sir," interrupted Harry, with some warmth, "I _have_ spoken to Mr
Cooper, and he says the repairs are quite sufficient."
"Well, then, I suppose they are so."
"I assure you, sir," rejoined Harry, "they are not; and as the lives of
passengers as well as men depend upon the vessel being in a seaworthy
condition, I do trust that you will have her examined by some one more
competent to judge than Mr Cooper."
"I have no doubt of Mr Cooper's competence," returned Mr Webster; "but
I will order a further examination, as you seem so anxious about it.
Meanwhile I hope that the ship is being got ready for sea as quickly as
possible."
"There shall be no delay on my part, sir," said Harry, rising; "the ship
has been removed from the Birkenhead Docks, in which you are aware she
has lain for the last eight months, and is now lying in the Brunswick
Dock, taking in cargo. But I think it a very serious matter, which
demands looking into, the fact that she had no sooner grounded in the
dock, than she sprang a leak which instantly let twenty-eight inches of
water into her, and twice, subsequently, as much as forty inches have
been sounded. Yet no repairs worthy of the name have been made. All
that has been done is the pumping of her out daily by the stevedore's
men when their stowing work is finished."
"Has the agent for the underwriters visited her?" inquired Mr Webster.
"He has, sir, but he seems to be of opinion that his responsibility is
at an end because a surveyor from the Mersey Docks and Harbour Board had
previously visited her, and directed that she should not be loaded
deeper than twenty-one feet--chalking on the side amidships the six feet
six inches clear beneath which she is not to be allowed to sink."
"Well, well," said Mr Webster, somewhat impatiently, "I will have the
matter looked into. Good morning, Captain Boyns."
The captain bowed and left the office, and Mr Webster leant back in his
chair, clasped his hands, twirled his thumbs, and smiled grimly at the
old gentleman over the fireplace.
True to his word, however, he had an inspection made of the _Swordfish_.
The inspector was of a kindred spirit with Mr Webster, so that his
report was naturally similar to that of Mr Cooper. Nothing, therefore,
was done to the vessel--"nothing being needed"--and the loading went on
in spite of the remonstrances of Captain Harry Boyns, who, with all the
energy and persistency of his character, continued to annoy, worry, and
torment every one who possessed the faintest right or power to interfere
in the matter--but all to no purpose; for there are times when neither
facts nor fancies, fair words nor foul, fire, fury, folly, nor
philosophy, will avail to move some "powers that be!"
In a towering fit of indignation Harry Boyns resolved to throw up his
situation; but it occurred to him that this would perhaps be deemed
cowardice, so he thought better of it. Then he madly thought of going
direct to the President of the Board of Trade and making a solemn
protest, backed by a heart-stirring appeal; but gave up that idea on
recalling to memory a certain occasion on which a deputation of grave,
learned, white-haired gentlemen had gone to London expressly to visit
that august functionary of the State, and beseech him, with all the
earnestness that the occasion demanded, that he would introduce into
Parliament a bill for the better regulation and supervision of ships,
and for preventing the possibility of seamen and passengers being
seduced on board unseaworthy vessels, carried off to sea, and there
murderously drowned in cold blood, as well as in cold water; which
deputation received for answer, that "it was not the intention of
Government, as at present advised, to introduce a measure for providing
more stringent enactments as to the equipments, cargoes, and crews of
passenger vessels!"--a reply which was tantamount to saying that if the
existing arrangements were inadequate to the ends desired, Government
saw no way out of the difficulty, and people must just be left
unprotected, and go to sea to be drowned or spared according as chance
or the cupidity of shipowners might direct!
This was pretty resolute on the part of Government, considering that
above a thousand lives were then, and above two thousand still are, lost
annually on the shores of the United Kingdom; a very large number of
which--if we may believe the argument of facts and the pretty unanimous
voice of the press--are sacrificed because Government refuses to
interfere effectively with the murderous tendencies of a certain class
of the community!
When Harry Boyns thought of all this he sighed deeply, and made up his
mind to remain by the _Swordfish_, and sink or swim with her. Had he
been more of a man of business, perhaps he might have been more
successful in finding out how to have prevented the evil he foresaw; but
it was the interest of the owner to keep him in the dark as much as
possible, for which end Mr Webster kept him out of the ship's way as
much as he could, and when that was impossible, he kept him so busily
employed that he remained ignorant of a great deal that was said and
done in regard to his vessel.
At length the _Swordfish_ left the Brunswick Dock, _six inches deeper_
than the surveyor had directed, and was towed to the Wellington Dock,
where she took in 120 tons of coke, and sank still deeper. Harry also
discovered that the equipment of the ship was miserably insufficient for
the long voyage she was intended to make. This was too much for him to
bear. He went at once to Mr Webster's office and said that if a deaf
ear was to be turned any longer to his remonstrances he would throw up
his appointment.
Poor Harry could scarcely have taken a more effective step to insure the
turning of the deaf ear to him.
"Oh!" replied Mr Webster, coolly, "if you refuse to take charge of my
vessel, Captain Boyns, I will soon find another to do it."
"I certainly do refuse," said Harry, preparing to leave the office, "and
I think you will find some difficulty in getting any other man to go to
sea in such a ship."
"I differ from you, Captain Boyns. Good afternoon."
"And if you do, and lives should be lost in consequence," added Harry,
grasping the handle of the door, "I warn you solemnly, that murder will
have been committed by you, whatever the law may say on the subject."
"Good afternoon, Captain Boyns."
"You've got a hard master," said Harry to Grinder as he passed through
the outer office.
The confidential clerk shook his head in a deprecatory way, and smiled.
Next moment Harry Boyns found himself in the street--with nothing to do,
and the wide world before him!
Meanwhile, the loading of the _Swordfish_ went on--also the pumping of
her. That same day she was visited by a surveyor from the Underwriters'
Association, who found her only five feet clear above water, and still
taking in cargo. That gentleman called in another surveyor to a
consultation, who agreed with him in pronouncing her overladen. She was
represented as such to the local Underwriters' Association for which the
surveyor acted, but as the _Swordfish_ was insured in London and not
with them, the Liverpool underwriters did not consider themselves called
upon to interfere. Their surveyor, however, visited the vessel again, a
few days later, when he found her "only four feet clear," and declared
that, so far from going to Bombay, he should not like to attempt to
cross to Dublin in her in anything like rough weather.
Now it must be observed that all these consultations and investigations
took place in a quiet way. To the public eye all was "fair and above
board." Few among the thousands who visited the docks knew much about
deep loading; still less about adequate equipping. They saw nought but
a "noble ship," well painted, washed, gilded, and varnished, taking
merchandise into her insatiable hold, while the "Yo-heave-ho" of the
seamen rang out cheerily to the rattling accompaniment of chains and
windlass. Many other ships were there, similarly treated, equally
beautiful, and quite as worthy of the titles "good" and "noble" as the
whited sepulchre is to be styled pure.
A few days before the _Swordfish_ was ready for sea, a new captain was
sent down to her. This captain was not a "bad man" in the worst sense
of that term--neither was he a "good" one. Vigour, courage, resolution
when acting in accordance with his inclinations--these were among his
characteristics. But he was a reckless man, in want of money, out of
employment, and without an appreciable conscience. In the
circumstances, he was glad to get anything to do, and had been so long
ashore and "in trouble," that he would probably have agreed to take
command of and go to sea in a washing-tub if part paid beforehand for
doing so.
Nevertheless, even this man (Captain Phelps by name) felt some degree of
nervous anxiety on getting on board and examining the state of the ship.
On further acquaintance with her, he was so dissatisfied that he also
resolved to throw up his appointment. But he had obtained the berth
through the influence of a friend who happened to be acquainted with Mr
Webster. This "friend" wrote him a stern letter, saying, if he ventured
to do as he proposed, he should never have a ship out of Liverpool
again, as long as he (the friend?) could prevent it!
Captain Phelps was one of those angry men of iron mould, who appear to
take pleasure in daring Fate to do her worst. On receipt of the letter,
he swore with an awful oath that he would now go to sea in the
_Swordfish_, even if he knew she would go to the bottom in twenty-four
hours after weighing anchor. Accordingly, having intrenched himself
behind a wall of moral adamant, he went about with quiet indifference,
and let things take their course. He made no objection whatever when,
in addition to the loading already in the ship, the agents added a deck
cargo of some massive pieces of machinery, weighing thirty tons, and a
supply of coals, the proper receptacle for which below had been filled
with iron goods. Neither did he utter a word when--after the vessel had
been taken out into the stream by the riggers--he and the owner, agents,
pilot, and crew (only six of which last were A.B.'s), were taken off to
her in a tug and put on board with orders to sail immediately.
Only a few passengers were going. These were already on board, but some
of their friends went off in the tug to bid them a last farewell.
This was a sad scene, but the captain regarded it with stoical
indifference. There was a stout, hale old Indian officer going out on a
pleasure trip to his beloved East, and a daughter of the same whom he
hoped to get married "offhand, comfortably there." There was a sick
nephew of the old officer, going the voyage for the benefit of his
health, on whose wan countenance consumption, if not death, had
evidently set a deep mark. There were, also, a nurse and a lady's-maid,
and two girls of ten or thirteen years of age--sisters--who were going
to join their father and mother, besides one or two others. Earnest
loving words passed kindly between these and their relatives and friends
as the moment of parting drew near.
"Don't forget to remember me to Coleman and the rest of `ours,'" cried a
stout elderly man, waving his hand as the tug moved off.
"That I won't, and I shall expect to shake you by the hand again, old
fellow, in a year or two."
"You'll never see him again," thought Captain Phelps, as he stood with
compressed lip and frowning eye on the quarter-deck.
"Good-bye, darling Nelly," cried a lady to one of the sobbing girls from
whom she was parting; "remember the message to mamma."
"Oh! yes," exclaimed the child, trying to look bright, "and we won't be
very long of coming back again."
"You'll never come back again," thought the captain, and he sighed
_very_ slightly as the thought passed through his brain.
"Look alive there, lads," exclaimed the pilot, as the tug sheared away.
Soon the anchor was at the bows, the sails were shaken out, and the
_Swordfish_ began her voyage.
"There's not a piece of spare rope aboard, sir," said the first mate,
coming up to the captain with a blank look; "we can't even get enough to
cat and fish the anchor."
"You can unreeve the tops'l halyards," replied the captain, quietly.
This was done, and the anchor was secured therewith.
"How much water in the hold?" asked the captain.
"Three feet, sir; the carpenter has just sounded. It seems that the
riggers were at work on the pumps when we came out in the tug, but were
stopped by the agents before we got alongside. I fear she is very
leaky, sir," said the mate.
"I _know_ she is," replied the captain; "keep the men at the pumps."
That night the weather became what sailors call "dirty," and next
morning it was found that the water had mounted to 4 feet 10 inches.
The pumps had become almost unworkable, being choked with sand, and it
became evident that the voyage thus inauspiciously begun would very soon
be ended. During the day the "dirty" weather became gale, so that,
although the wind was fair, Captain Phelps determined to run to the
nearest port for shelter. With a "good ship" this might have been done
easily enough--many a vessel does it during every gale that visits our
stormy shores--but the _Swordfish_ was by this time getting water-logged
and unmanageable. She drifted helplessly before the gale, and the heavy
seas broke over her continually, sweeping away everything moveable.
Another night passed, and next morning--Sunday--it became plain that she
was settling down so the captain gave orders to get out the long-boat,
and told the passengers to get ready. Day had broken some time before
this, but the weather was still so thick that nothing could be seen.
"Take a cast of the lead," said the captain.
"Ay, ay, sir," was the prompt reply, but before the order could be
obeyed, the roar of breakers was heard above the howling of the storm,
and the shout, "Land on the port bow!" was instantly followed by "Down
with the helm!" and other orders hurriedly given by the captain and
hastily obeyed by the men. All too late! The ship was embayed. As if
to make their position more painful, the mists cleared partially away,
and revealed the green fields and cottages on shore, with the angry
sea--an impassable caldron of boiling foam--between.
Another instant and the ship struck with a convulsive quiver from stem
to stern. The billows flew madly over her, the main-mast went by the
board--carrying two of the men to their doom along with it--and the
_Swordfish_, "bound for Bombay," was cast, a total wreck, upon the coast
of Cornwall.