"When Britain first at Heaven's command
Arose from out the azure main,
This was the charter, the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sung the strain--
Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves,
For Britons never shall be slaves."
We left Newton Forster senseless on the pavement leading to the quay at
Bristol, floored by a rap on the head from a certain person or persons
unknown: he did not however remain there long, being hoisted on the
shoulders of two stout fellows, dressed in blue jackets and trousers,
with heavy clubs in their hands, and a pistol lying perdu between their
waistcoats and shirts. These nautical personages tumbled him into the
stern-sheets of a boat, as if not at all sorry to rid themselves of his
weight and, in a continued state of insensibility, Newton was hoisted up
the side of a cutter which lay at anchor about one hundred yards from
the shore.
When Newton recovered his senses, his swimming eyes could just enable
him to perceive that something flashed upon them, and in their weak
state created a painful sensation. As he became more collected, he
discovered that a man was holding a small candle close to them, to
ascertain whether the vein which had been opened in his arm had produced
the desired effect of restoring him to animation. Newton tried to
recollect where he was, and what had occurred; but the attempted
exercise of his mental powers was too much, and again threw him into a
state of stupor. At last he awoke as if from a dream of death, and
looking round, found himself lying on the deck attended by a female, who
bathed his forehead.
"Where am I?" exclaimed Newton.
"Is it where you are, that you'd want for to know? a'nt ye on board of
the Lively cutter, sure? and a'nt you between decks in her, and I
looking a'ter ye, honey?"
"And who are you?"
"And who am I! Then if I'm not somebody else, I'm Judy Malony, the wife
of the boatswain's mate, and a lawful married woman."
"How did I come here?" continued Newton, raising himself on his elbow.
"You didn't come at all, honey, you were brought."
"Who brought me?"
"Who brought ye! it was either the gig or the jolly boat; but I wasn't
on deck at the time, so I can't upon my oath say exactly which."
"Then pray can you tell me why I was brought here?" replied Newton.
"Sure I can guess, bating you don't know already. It was to sarve your
king and your country, like a brave volunteer as you are."
"Then I'm impressed?"
"You may take your Bible oath of it, my jewel, and commit no perjury.
It's a hard rap that ye got, any how; just a hint that ye were wanted:
but plase God, if ye live and do well, 'twill be nothing at all to what
we'll have by-and-bye, all for the honour and glory of ould England."
Newton, who during these remarks was thinking of his father's situation,
and the distress he would suffer without his assistance, and then of the
state in which he had left his mother, again sank on the deck.
"Why he's off again!" muttered Judy Malony; "he's no countryman of mine,
that's clear as the mud in the Shannon, or he'd never fuss about a rap
with a shillelah;" and Judy, lifting up her petticoats first, gained her
feet, and walked away forward.
Newton remained in a state of uneasy slumber until daylight, when he was
awakened by the noise of boats coming alongside, and loud talking on
deck. All that had passed did not immediately rush into his mind; but
his arm tied up with the bandage, and his hair matted, and his face
stiff with the coagulated blood, soon brought to his recollection the
communication of Judy Malony, that he had been impressed. The 'tween
decks of the cutter appeared deserted, unless indeed there were people
in the hammocks slung over his head; and Newton, anxious to obtain
farther information, crawled under the hammocks to the ladder, and went
up on deck.
About twenty sailors, well armed, were busy handing out of the boats
several men whom they had brought on board, who were ordered aft by the
officer in command. Newton perceived that most of them had not received
much better treatment than he had on the preceding evening; some were
shockingly disfigured, and were still bleeding profusely.
"How many have you altogether, Mr Vincent?" said the lieutenant to a
stout master's mate with a tremendous pair of whiskers, which his loose
handkerchief discovered to join together at his throat.
"Seventeen, sir."
"And how many had we before?--twenty-six, I think."
"Twenty-seven, sir, with the young chap I sent on board last night."
"Well, that will do; it's quite as many as we can stow away, or take
care of:--pass them all down below, forward; take up the ladder, and put
on the grating until we are out of the harbour. As soon as the
jolly-boat comes on board we'll up anchor."
"She'll be off directly, sir; I ordered her to wait for Johnson and
Merton, who did not come down with us."
"Do you think they have given you the slip?"
"I should think not, sir. Here is the jolly-boat coming off."
"Well, pass the men forward, and secure them," replied the lieutenant.
"Overhaul the boat's falls, and bring to with the windlass."
Newton thought this a good opportunity to state that he was the master
of a vessel, and, as such, protected from the impress; he therefore
walked over to the lieutenant, addressing him, "I beg your pardon,
sir--"
"Who are you?" interrupted the lieutenant, gruffly.
"I was impressed last night, sir;--may I speak to you?"
"No sir, you may not."
"It might save you some trouble, sir."
"It will save me more to send you down below. Mr Vincent, shove this
man down forward; why is he at large?"
"He was under the doctor's hands, I believe, sir. Come this way, my
hearty--stir your stumps."
Newton would have expostulated, but he was collared by two of the
press-gang, and very unceremoniously handed forward to the hatchway; the
grating was taken off, and he was lowered down to the deck below, where
he found himself cooped up with more than forty others, almost
suffocated for the want of air and space. The conversation (if
conversation it could be called) was nothing but one continued string of
curses and execrations, and vows of deep revenge.
The jolly-boat returned, pulling only two oars; the remainder of her
crew, with Thompson and Merton, having taken this opportunity of
deserting from their forced servitude. With some hearty execrations
upon the heads of the offending parties, and swearing that by God there
was no such thing as _gratitude_ in a sailor, the commander of the
cutter weighed his anchor, and proceeded to sea.
The orders received by the lieutenant of the cutter, although not
precisely specifying, still implying that he was to bring back his cargo
alive, as soon as his Majesty's cutter, Lively, was fairly out at sea,
the hatches were taken off, and the impressed men allowed to go on deck
in the proportion of about one half at a time, two sailors, with drawn
cutlasses, still remaining sentry at the coombings of the hatchway, in
case of any discontented fellow presuming to dispute such lawful
authority.
Newton Forster was happy to be once more on deck; so much had he
suffered during his few hours of confinement, that he really felt
grateful for the indulgence. The sky was bright, and the cutter was
dashing along the coast with the wind, two points free, at the rate of
seven or eight miles an hour. She was what sailors term rather _a wet
one_, and as she plunged through the short waves the sea broke
continually over her bows and chesstree, so that there was no occasion
to draw water for purification. Newton washed his face and head, and
felt quite revived as he inhaled the fresh breeze, and watched the coast
as the vessel rapidly passed each head-land in her course. All around
him were strangers, and no one appeared inclined to be communicative;
even the most indifferent, the most stoical, expressed their ideas in
disjointed sentences; they could not but feel that their project and
speculations had been overthrown by a captivity so anomalous with their
boasted birthright.
"Where are we going?" inquired Newton of a man who stood next him,
silently watching the passing foam created by the rapid course of the
vessel.
"To _hell_ I hope, with _those who brought us here_!" replied the man,
grinding his teeth with a scowl of deep revenge.
At this moment Judy Malony came pattering along the wet deck with a kid
of potato-peelings to throw over the bows. Newton recognised her, and
thanked her for her kindness.
"It's a nice boy that you are, sure enough, now that you're swate and
clean," replied Judy. "Bad luck to the rapparee who gave you the blow!
I axed my husband if it was he; but he swears upon his salvation that it
was no one if it wasn't Tim O'Connor, the baste!"
"Where are we going?" inquired Newton.
"A'nt we going to dinner in a minute or two?"
"I mean where is the cutter bound to?"
"Oh! the cutter you mane! If she can only find her way it's to
Plymouth, sure;--they're waiting for ye."
"Who is waiting for us?"
"Why, three fine frigates as can't go to sea without hands. You never
heard of a ship sailing without hands; the poor dumb craturs can't do
nothing by themselves."
"Do you know where the frigates are going?"
"Going to _say_, I lay my life on't," replied Judy, who then walked
forward, and broke up the conversation.
The next morning the cutter ran into Hamoaze, and boats were sent on
board to remove the impressed men to the guard-ship. There, much to his
annoyance and mortification, Newton found, that with the others, he was
treated as a close prisoner. The afternoon of the same day another
vessel arrived from the eastward with a collection of offenders, who for
a variety of crimes and misdemeanors had been sentenced to serve on
board of a man-of-war. No distinction was made; all were huddled
together, and treated alike, until summoned on the quarterdeck, when
their names were called out for distribution to the several men-of-war.
Each ship having a quota of seamen and pickpockets allotted to her in
due proportion, the men were ordered down into the boats; and in less
than an hour Newton found himself on board of a fine frigate lying in
the Sound, with her fore-topsail losse, as a signal of her immediate
departure.