RETURN TO ENGLAND--APPOINTED TO THE OPOSSUM--THE COMMANDER'S OATH--HOW
HE KEPT IT--THE GALE--LOSS OF MASTS--OLD POPPLES--DEATH OF COMMANDER--
THE PIRATE--END OF MYERS.
I forgot to say in the last chapter, that before shaping our course for
Malta, we ran a little way down the coast, and landed our young Reefian
prisoner. It might have been better had Captain Poynder endeavoured,
through his means, to treat with the old Sheikh for the liberation of
his captives; but, probably, the success of such a plan was considered
too doubtful to be attempted. What became of Mr Vernon's jewel-box I
do not know: I fancy the contents were of very little intrinsic value.
We carried Major Norman and his daughter to Gibraltar, whence they went
to England. Mr Vernon did not marry for upwards of a year after this.
He and his wife are among my most intimate friends. We met with no more
adventures worth recording in the old _Harold_. At length we returned
to Portsmouth, and being paid off, I was once more a gentleman at large.
I did not long remain so, for my kind uncle took care to get me another
ship as soon as possible. In the meantime, I accompanied Dicky Sharpe
to the home of his father and mother, Sir John and Lady Sharpe. They
were excessively kind, and made a great deal of me; and so did the
Misses Sharpe, who, being a good deal older than Dicky, treated us
somewhat like little children, petting and humouring our fancies, which
did not altogether please me. It made me much more inclined to act like
a child, and to join Dicky in any pranks he proposed. I was very sorry,
however, to have to go away. It was, at the same time, no little
satisfaction to both of us, that we found ourselves appointed to the
same ship--a fine sixteen-gun brig, just fitting out--the _Opossum_,
Captain Cranley. Dicky, however, got leave for two or three weeks,
while I had to join at once. His friends got him the appointment
because it was considered better that he should see some service in a
small craft, with a smart officer, which our commander was said to be;
while I joined because I was not likely to get a better. I had gone to
see Larry as soon as I reached England, and found him and his wife
flourishing. When I got back to Portsmouth, while the brig was fitting
out, I paid him frequent visits, to the old man's great delight; and he
used to tell everybody he met what a first-rate sailor I had become,
winding up invariably, with a look of no little pride, "Ay, sir, and
'twas I taught him--didn't I, Master Neil?"
I must not forget to mention my kind uncle and aunt, and Daisy Cottage,
where I was always a welcome guest. He had paid the cutter off, but
expected soon to obtain another appointment. Of the Marlows I could
only hear that they had gone abroad; but as Miss Alice had promised to
write to my aunt as soon as they had settled, I was in hopes of hearing
about them. But I must get on with my story. The _Opossum_ was at sea,
running down Channel, with orders to wait at Falmouth for despatches and
mails for Halifax, Nova Scotia. With the exception of Dicky Sharpe, all
my brother officers were strangers to me, and mostly to each other, so
it took a little time before we became acquainted and shook into our
places. Captain Cranley, I found, was somewhat of the old school--very
kind-hearted and simple-minded, and not less strict towards himself than
towards others--with a nice sense of honour, and very sensitive of
rebuke. I was very glad to find that my old friend Jack Stretcher had
volunteered, with the hope of one day becoming a warrant-officer. I
must also mention the boatswain, who, though an oldish man, had not long
taken out his warrant. He was a prime seaman, with nothing very
remarkable in his appearance, except that he was tall and thin, and had
a long bushy beard, now somewhat grizzled. The aforesaid individual,
Mr Popples, was neat and clean, and had really good manners; his great
ambition being to rise in the world, though he had begun to ascend
rather late in life. We youngsters had a great respect for him,
notwithstanding some of his peculiarities, and should never have dreamed
of playing him the tricks we did old Chissel and Trundle in the
_Harold_. Two days after we left Falmouth, the wind, which had been
from the eastward and moderate, chopped round to the westward and
north-west, and began to blow very heavily. Our commander, however, was
not a man to be frightened by a capful of wind; so we close-reefed the
topsails, and lay upon our course as near as we could. The gallant
little brig headed the seas bravely, and gave us every reason to hope
that we might weather out the gale without damage. Towards the evening
of the third day, however, it came on to blow harder than ever; the
clouds came gathering up in thick masses, as if hurried one on the
other, without the means of escaping, and the sea rose higher and
higher. Mr Pullen, the master, kept glancing to windward in a
significant manner.
"What do you think of it, master?" asked Captain Cranley.
"Why, sir, the sooner that we up-helm, and run into port, the better for
the ship and ourselves," replied Mr Pullen. "There's no use straining
a vessel till every timber in her creaks and groans with pain,--that's
my opinion."
"A very just one, master, and I'll follow your advice," said the
captain. "All hands wear ship."
The delicate, operation was successfully performed. The helm was put
up--the aftersails were brailed up and furled--more headsail was got on
her. For an instant she rolled heavily in the trough of the sea; then
her headsail, feeling the full force of the wind, carried her head away
from it, and, like a sea-bird released from imprisonment, off she flew
on rapid wings before it. A number of vessels, driven in by stress of
weather, were collected in Falmouth Harbour as we entered. We ran by
them, past the flag-ship, for the purpose of bringing up, when we were
hailed with--
"What! Captain Cranley, are you afraid of a capful of wind? There's
nothing to hurt you now outside; so go to sea again without bringing
up."
These words stung our old captain to the quick.
"It's the first time James Cranley was ever taunted for being afraid of
anything, much less a gale of wind; and it shall be the last time, too,
whatever comes of it, so help me Heaven!"
Fearfully did the old man keep his vow. Accordingly, we forthwith stood
out again to sea. When we were clear of the land, we found the gale
completely abated, and we had a very fine passage, till within about a
hundred miles of our port, when it fell calm. Never do I recollect a
more perfect calm. The sea was like lead in colour, but as smooth as
glass, though every now and then there came a long, slow, gently-moving
undulation, as if there were some unseen power beneath the water. There
was something, I thought, very ominous in the whole appearance of the
atmosphere. The barometer, the seaman's warning friend, began also to
sink, and each hour the quicksilver got lower and lower. Thus passed
two days, but not a breath of wind came. Captain Cranley paced his deck
with uneasy steps. The master likewise looked far from satisfied, I
thought, with the appearance of the weather, and kept continually
glancing round the horizon, in search of the expected sign of a change.
The sails hung idly down against the masts, every now and then flapping
loudly, as the vessel rolled slowly in the swell. It would have been
more seamanlike had they been furled; but, to tell the truth, our
commander appeared seized with a fit of infatuation, which deprived him
of his usual clear judgment on professional matters. He had not got
over his late unjust reprimand. With a morbid feeling of injured
honour, he allowed it to rankle in his bosom. People are apt to have a
foreboding of evil; but on the present occasion there were ample reasons
for dreading mischief.
"To my mind, if we were to furl every stitch of canvas, and send down
our topmasts, we should be acting like seamen," said old Popples, as I
was forward, attending to some duty.
"Why do you say that?" I asked. "The sea is like glass, and there's no
wind, nor chance of any, as far as I can judge."
"Because I haven't sailed round the world for the last forty years with
my eyes shut, Mr D'Arcy," he replied. "Be sure, when the weather's
like this, there's no slight gale coming on; but the commander is a good
seaman, and I suppose he'll give the order soon."
The commander, however, did not seem to apprehend any immediate change
of weather. Not so Mr Pullen. Whenever he went into the cabin, he
found that the silver in the barometer had sunk lower than ever; and
each time he came on deck, looking more anxious than before. After some
time spent in watching the sky to the northward, he walked up to the
commander.
"Captain Cranley, sir," said he, "it's my duty to tell you that, in my
opinion, this weather won't last many hours longer--not to say minutes,
perhaps; and if the squall I look for catches us with all this canvas
set, it will carry the masts over the side to a certainty."
"It's the custom in the service generally for officers to wait till
their opinion is asked," replied the commander, turning on his heel, and
taking a few more turns on the quarter-deck. At last he stopped, and
looked out towards the northward and westward, where a thick mass of
clouds was banking up, each instant rising higher and higher.
"Mr Fairman," he said, to the first-lieutenant, "call all hands to
shorten sail; put the brig under double-reefed topsails. Whichever way
the squall comes, we mustn't be frightened at it this time, eh?"
The command was quickly obeyed, but the air remained as stagnant as
ever. Still old Popples was not satisfied.
"We are better so than we were before, I'll allow," he remarked; "but
the gale, when it does begin to blow, will, to my mind, be a regular
hurricane, and we shall be glad to run before it under bare poles. Mark
my words, Mr D'Arcy!"
Boatswains do not always deliver their opinion thus freely about their
captain; but old Popples was privileged, at all events with us
midshipmen. Mr Pullen shrugged his shoulders and said nothing, though
he evidently held the same opinion as the boatswain. The commander had
just retired to his cabin, while the master continued his walk, turning
his eye every now and then towards the quarter whence he expected the
wind to come. Suddenly he stopped.
"Here it is!" he exclaimed. "Up with the helm--square away the
afteryards."
Scarcely had he spoken, than a terrific roar was heard, and down came
the gale upon us with unbridled fury, driving before it vast masses of
spoondrift, and tearing up the water into huge waves, which every
instant rose higher and higher. Off flew the brig's head, however,
before it, and it seemed like a race between her and the dense sheets of
spray which careered over the seas, and the clouds of scud which chased
each other across the sky. Her course, however, was to be suddenly
arrested. The commander made his appearance hurriedly on deck.
"What means this?" he exclaimed. "There's our port, sirs," pointing to
the north-west. "Bring the ship on a wind--down with the helm--brace up
the yards!"
The officers stood aghast, but the order was not to be disputed.
No sooner did the brig feel the full force of the wind, than she heeled
over, till her lee guns were buried in the waves, and the spray came
flying over us, fore and aft. Still we looked up to it, and, had the
wind not increased, we might have weathered it very well; but it was
evident that the gale had not yet come to its height. Magnificently the
brave little brig dashed through it; but it was fearful work,--the
timbers groaned, and the masts bent, every instant threatening to go by
the board. Once more Mr Pullen urged the commander to bear up.
"No, no, master," he answered, shaking his head; "I've sworn that no
power shall ever again turn me away from the port to which I am bound;
and James Cranley is not a man you would ask to break his oath, I hope."
"Well, sir, but the brig will hold her own better under closer canvas,
you'll allow," urged the master.
After some time the commander permitted the topsails to be close-reefed,
but not another stitch would he take off her. Still the brig had too
much sail set; and wearily and heavily she laboured through the yet fast
rising seas.
I had been on deck for some hours, and, drenched to the skin, was
shivering with cold, when Mr Pullen, with whom I was a favourite, told
me to go and lie down in his berth, our own not being tenable, from the
water which the straining of the ship allowed to run into it. All the
officers and the watch were on deck. In spite of the heavy pitching of
the ship, I soon fell asleep. How long I remained so I know not, when a
terrific noise awoke me. I felt the suffocation of drowning, and for a
moment saw the water in dark green masses rushing into the cabin. In
another instant it was all dark. I uttered a prayer for mercy, for I
felt that the brig was on her side and sinking. Still the love of life
did not desert me. Through the darkness I discerned one bright spot
overhead. I made for it, and as I found my hands grasping the combings
of the gun-room skylight, the brig, with a sudden jerk, righted again.
I thought it was only preparatory to going down. Still I held on. The
water rolled away, and disappeared from above and beneath me, and I was
able to obtain a clear view along the deck. What a scene of destruction
and horror met my view! Of all those living men who lately peopled her
decks, not a soul was there--not a mast was standing--not a boat
remained--as if the destroying sword of the Archangel had swept over
them. The decks were swept clear of everything; while the green
foam-topped seas, in mountain masses, rose above them, threatening every
instant to overwhelm my hapless vessel. A glance showed me all this.
Looking forward, I saw another head rising from the fore-hatchway; it
was that of old Popples, the boatswain.
"What! are they all gone?" he shouted; "then I'm captain. Lend a hand,
Mr D'Arcy, and we'll try and get the ship before the wind."
"Captain of a sinking ship you may be, Mr Popples," I answered, amused,
even in that moment of horror, at the old man's extraordinary ambition.
But there was no time for talking. I sprang on deck, as he had done,
and at the same instant a cry reached our ears, and looking to leeward,
we saw the faces of several of our shipmates, clinging to the spars and
rigging, which still hung on to the ship.
At first, surrounded as they were with the seething foam, their
countenances convulsed with terror or agony, as they clung with their
death-grasp to the rigging, it was difficult to recognise them; while,
one by one, they were torn from their uncertain hold, and borne far away
to leeward. Still some clung on. I trusted my friend Dicky Sharpe
might be of the number; for even then, strange as it may seem, I
pictured to myself the grief and misery his loss would cause at that
home where I had lately seen him the hope and joy of a loving mother and
affectionate sisters. These thoughts occupied scarcely a second. In a
few moments I recovered from the sensation of almost overwhelming horror
which the scene had caused; and, as I gazed more attentively, I
recognised Dicky himself, with Captain Cranley, and the master, yet
clinging to the rigging.
The watch below, whom the boatswain had summoned, joined us without
delay; and I must do him the justice to say, that no one could more
nobly have exerted himself than he did in trying to save those who would
speedily deprive him of his new-fledged honours. The foremast and its
rigging, in falling, had torn away the chain-plates and everything which
secured it forward; and the whole tangled mass of spars and ropes now
hung on by the after-shrouds, and had both served to put the brig before
the wind, by holding back her stern, while it allowed her head to pay
off, and acted also as a sort of breakwater, which saved us from being
pooped. The poor fellows in the water were crying loudly for help as
they caught sight of us on deck. One of the nearest was Dicky Sharpe.
Calling Jack Stretcher to my aid, I got him to heave a rope with a bight
at the end which I had made. It fell close to Dicky's head. He grasped
it with one hand, and slipped it over his shoulders. We hauled on it
till we got him near the side. Just then the foreyard came surging up,
and I thought would strike him.
"Give me your hand!" I shrieked out.
I caught it barely in time. Stretcher leaned through a port, and we got
Dicky in at the moment that the yard came thundering against the side,
almost grazing his foot. All this was but the work of a second.
Popples had in the meantime, by great exertions, managed to get the
master on board; and his next attempt was to save Captain Cranley. He,
however, was much further out, hanging on to one of the topmasts. None
of the ropes near him which we could reach would come home. There
appeared to be no means of saving him. Two other men were, however, got
in.
"Come, I can't bear to see our old skipper washed away before our eyes.
What will his wife and children do?" exclaimed Jack Stretcher. "I've no
one at home to care for me; so some on you clap on here, while I just
make a fly out, and see if I can't get hold of him."
The gallant fellow had made a rope fast to his waist, and was on the
point of making his perilous attempt by springing into the raging sea,
when a terrific wave came rolling up astern. Its curling crest lifted
high the spar to which the commander clung. I fancied that I could see
his starting eyes take one last earnest glance at the ship, and his lips
moved as if imploring us to save him. Then down came the wave; and as
the ship was hurried on before it, its broken waters tore away his
already failing grasp, and in a moment he was buried from our sight. We
had no time to mourn for him then. Mr Pullen instantly took command,
and Popples was fain to act as his first-lieutenant; while Sharpe and I
did our utmost to make ourselves useful.
The wreck of the masts, as I have said, kept the brig before the wind.
While some hands set to work to rig the pumps, others got up a bit of a
jury-mast, secured to the stump of the foremast. On this we managed to
spread a topgallant-sail, which helped her along famously. All hands
who could possibly be spared were required to work the pumps, spell and
spell; and the wonder was, when we found the immense quantity of water
she had taken on board, that she had not gone down. As it was, her deck
and upper works leaked in every direction; and we all felt that such,
even now, might be our fate. I shall never forget the anxiety of that
first night, as, amid the raging seas, with the gale howling round us,
our near sinking ship, battered and dismasted, ran through the darkness,
every sea, as, foam-crested, it came rolling up astern, threatening to
overwhelm us. Who but fools would not, on such occasions, feel the
utter helplessness of their own arm to help them, or would fail to put
their trust alone in Him who is all-powerful to save. Yes; it is amid
the raging storm and on the battered wreck that the seaman, if his mind
be but directed aright, gains a practical knowledge of the value of
religion. But alas! how few--how very few--are taught religious truths;
and the very men who wander round the globe, and might act as important
pioneers of civilisation and Christianity among the heathen, are
allowed, for the most part, to remain ignorant and profane--a disgrace,
instead of an honour, to the Christian nation to which they belong.
Such a state of things ought not to exist; and I ask you, my young
friends, to aid in conveying the blessings of the gospel to our gallant
seamen, and, through their means, to the far distant nations of the
earth. But to return to the brig. For two days we ran to the
southward, without any change in the weather. At length it began to
moderate, and in three days more we had run into comparatively a smooth
sea.
No one would willingly have blamed our late unfortunate commander; but
we all felt that, had he bore up in time, as a seaman should have done,
instead of obstinately persisting in holding his ground, he would have
saved his own and many valuable lives, and the brig would have escaped
the disaster she had suffered.
Mr Pullen had shaped a course for the Bermudas; but, low as they are,
it was necessary to keep a very sharp look-out, to prevent running past
them, or on to the coral reefs by which they are surrounded. Our
landfall, however, was better than we expected; and one of the fine
pilot-boats, for which the islands are so deservedly noted, coming off
to us, we were safely towed into harbour. The brig was some months in
the hands of the dockyard people before we were ready for sea, our
despatches, after some weeks' detention, being sent on to their
destination.
During the period of our stay, the merchants, as well as the military
officers, were very kind to Dicky and me. The Bermudas are also called
Somers' Islands, because Sir George Somers was cast away on them in
1609, since when they have been inhabited by English settlers. Their
productions are very similar to those of the West Indies. There are a
number of blacks on them, who at the time I speak of were slaves, but
are now, of course, free. They consist of four principal islands, the
chief of which is called Saint George, and other smaller ones. They
take their name from Juan Bermudez, who discovered them in 1522. I have
no time to say more about the place.
Before we were ready for sea, a new commander was sent out from
England--Captain Idle. His name was very far from appropriate to his
character. He brought us the pleasing information that we were destined
for the coast of Africa, where some fast cruisers were much wanted to
put down the slave-trade.
Captain Idle had seen some service. He had been thirty years at sea,
out of which time he had not probably spent two on shore. He had been
in the North Seas and West Indies, in the Antarctic Ocean, and on the
coast of Africa, in the Indian seas, and in every part of the Pacific.
There was not an unhealthy station in which he had not served. He had
served for ten years as a first-lieutenant. He had been three times
wounded, and had obtained his rank, both as lieutenant and commander,
for two remarkable deeds of gallantry; and now, as a special reward for
his services, I suppose, he was sent out to the coast of Africa.
A first-lieutenant also joined us--Reuben Spry by name,--and two mates,
the senior of whom did duty as second lieutenant--Holland and Waller.
The very day we were ready for sea we went out of harbour, and made the
best of our way towards the coast of Africa. A succession of easterly
winds had kept the _Opossum_ more to the west than she would otherwise
have been. We were about the latitude of Barbadoes, when, having run on
during most of the night with a fair breeze, towards morning it dropped
altogether, and we found ourselves rolling away in a tropical calm. As
we were already in the seas where slavers are to be found, a bright
look-out was kept, in the hopes of our falling in with a prize, though
as yet not a sail had been seen to which it was thought worth while
giving chase. As morning broke, of a day I shall not easily forget,
there appeared to the southward, not four miles from us, two vessels
becalmed like ourselves. One, a large barque, somewhat the nearest to
us, was clearly an English merchantman; the other, a low, black
schooner, had the wicked, rakish appearance of a Spanish slaver. The
look-out from the foretopmast-head gave notice at the same time that he
could see two boats pulling from one vessel to the other. The captain
and all the officers were speedily on deck.
"There's some mischief going on there," exclaimed Captain Idle, after a
look at the vessels. "Mr Spry, call the boats away; we must send and
overhaul these fellows."
Three boats, under the command of the first-lieutenant, were speedily in
the water, and manned, all hands being well-armed. Waller had charge of
one boat, I of the third,--and not a little proud did I feel of the
honour. A cup of cocoa and some biscuit being first served out to each
of us, to give us strength for the work to be accomplished, away we
pulled towards the barque. It was hot enough when we started, but as
the sun rose higher it grew hotter still, and the glare on the smooth
water became so bright as almost to blind us; but nothing relaxed our
exertions, all hands feeling that there was some work before us. The
other boats had reached the barque when we were yet three miles off, and
very probably had not observed us, although the people from the rigging
of the merchantman must have done so. The report of firearms was now
heard, and this made us redouble our efforts to get up.
"The merchantman is attacked by pirates; there is not a doubt of it,"
shouted Mr Spry. "Fire off your muskets, my lads; it will give both
parties notice that we are coming to put a stop to their fun."
Those not pulling blazed away right merrily for a few minutes, and then
watched for the result. It seemed to have encouraged one party and to
have disheartened the other, for the boats we had before seen were
observed pulling back to the schooner.
"Follow me, Waller. After the boats, my lads!" shouted Mr Spry.
"D'Arcy, do you board the barque. See if any assistance is required,
and if not, pull for the schooner."
It took me but a short time to find myself alongside the barque, while
the rest of our party were in chase of the strange boats. So eagerly
were those on board looking out at the chase, that they did not observe
me step on board. Alas! the appearance of the deck showed too plainly
that mischief had already been done. One man lay dead, and two more sat
on the deck, supported by their shipmates. But there were two persons
in a group standing aft, whom I thought I recognised. I looked again.
I was sure I could not be mistaken, and running up to them, I found
myself shaking hands most warmly with Mr Marlow and his daughter. He
did not recognise me; but she did in a moment, and told him who I was.
"Again you have helped to save our lives, Mr D'Arcy," he exclaimed;
"for, thanks to our brave captain here, we were able to resist a band of
villainous pirates who attacked us, till your appearance frightened them
off."
I of course told them how happy I was to be of service, and then,
finding that my presence on board the barque was not required, I tumbled
into my boat, and gave way after my shipmates. The pirates' boats had
gained the schooner about ten minutes before they had. I was not long
behind them, and the aid of my boat's crew was very welcome. The deck
of the schooner was crowded with men, who were making a desperate
resistance. The most prominent of them fought more like a demon than a
human creature. With desperate energy he wielded a huge cutlass, with
which he kept the deck clear around him. His men, however, a mixture of
Spanish, Portuguese, blacks, and a few English or Americans, were
falling thick on either side, and several had actually been driven
overboard. My gallant fellows gave a loud shout as we scrambled on
deck, and, led by Jack Stretcher, they cleared everything before them.
Some of the pirates were forced down the hold, others overboard, and
several sunk on the deck to rise no more. Still the captain stood at
bay. I now had a better opportunity of observing him, and at once I
recognised my old enemy, the villain Myers.
"Your time is come at last, Bill Myers," I shouted.
The words seemed to have a paralysing effect. What thoughts they called
up, I know not. Perhaps he had not for long been known by that name.
He made a few steps backward, and then, with one bound, cleared the side
of the vessel and leaped overboard. There was no land to swim to--no
boat to pick him up--but ravenous sharks surrounded the scene of strife,
already collected by the taste of blood. In another instant the
long-sought-for smuggler, murderer, and pirate was their prey. The
remainder of the pirates yielded without another blow. We found that
they had shipped for a slave voyage only; but had been induced by Myers,
who had lately got command, to commence a course of piracy, which, by
our appearance, had happily been cut short. After some hours, a breeze
springing up, we brought the vessels together. Waller and I were
ordered to take the prize into Barbadoes, where the barque also was
bound; while the _Opossum_ cruised outside to look out for slavers.
Mr Marlow was going to spend some time at Bridgetown, where he had a
house of business. He received Waller and me most kindly, and nothing
could exceed the hospitality of the inhabitants generally when they
heard of our exploit. Captain Curtis, also, the master of the barque,
got great credit for the way he had defended his vessel till we came to
his assistance. Miss Alice Marlow had grown somewhat, but still she was
very little for her age. She was, however, as kind as ever, and I, for
one, was very sorry when the _Opossum_ came in with another prize. The
survivors of the men who had boarded the barque were hung, and the
schooner herself was condemned. This business being accomplished, the
_Opossum_ once more made sail for the coast of Africa.