"Mercy on us! a bairn, a very pretty bairn,
A boy, a child." SHAKESPEARE.
When Newton was landed from the cartel at Jamaica, he found the
advantage of not being clad in the garb of a sailor, as all those who
were in such costume were immediately handed over to the admiral of the
station, to celebrate their restoration to liberty on board of a
man-of-war; but the clothes supplied to him by the generosity of M. de
Fontanges had anything but a maritime appearance, and Newton was landed
with his portmanteaus by one of the man-of-war's boats, whose crew had
little idea of his being a person so peculiarly suited to their views,
possessing as he did the necessary qualifications of youth, activity,
and a thorough knowledge of his profession. Newton was so anxious to
return home, that after a few days' expensive sojourn at an hotel,
frequented chiefly by the officers of the man-of-war in port, he
resolved to apply to the captain of a frigate ordered home with
despatches, to permit him to take a passage. He had formed a slight
intimacy with some of the officers, who assured him that he would
experience no difficulty in obtaining his request. His application was
made in person; and after his statement that he had been released in the
last cartel which had come from Guadaloupe, his request was immediately
granted, without any further questions being put relative to his
profession, or the manner in which he had been captured. The captain
very civilly gave him to understand that he might mess with the
gun-room officers, if he could arrange with them, and that he expected
to sail on the evening of the ensuing day. Newton immediately repaired
on board of the frigate, to ascertain if the officers would receive him
as a messmate; and further, whether the amount of his mess-money would
be more than he could in prudence afford. At the bottom of one of the
portmanteaus he had found a bag of two hundred dollars, supplied by his
generous host, and in the same bag there was also deposited a small note
from Madame de Fontanges, wishing him success, and enclosing (as a
_souvenir_) a ring, which he had often perceived on her finger; but,
adequate as was this supply to his own wants, Newton did not forget that
his father was, in all probability, in great distress, and would require
his assistance on his return. He was, therefore, naturally anxious not
to expend more than was absolutely necessary in defraying his passage.
The old first lieutenant, to whom, upon his arrival on board, he was
introduced as commanding officer, received him with much urbanity; and,
when Newton stated that he had obtained the captain's permission to make
the application, immediately acceded to his wishes on the part of his
messmates as well as of himself, when Newton followed up his
application, by requesting to know the expense which he would incur, as,
in case of its being greater than his finances could meet, he would
request permission to choose a less expensive mess.
"I am aware," replied the veteran, "that those who have been
shipwrecked, and in a French prison, are not likely to be very flush of
cash. It is, however, a point on which I must consult my messmates.
Excuse me one moment, and I will bring you an answer: I have no doubt
but that it will be satisfactorily arranged; but there is nothing like
settling these points at once. Mr Webster, see that the lighter shoves
off the moment that she is clear," continued the first lieutenant to one
of the midshipmen as he descended the quarter-deck ladder, leaving
Newton to walk the quarter-deck.
In a few minutes the first lieutenant reappeared, with one or two
officers of the gun-room mess, who greeted him most cordially.
"I have seen all that are requisite," said he to Newton. "Two I have not
spoken to, the master and the purser; they are both poor men with
families. If, therefore, you will not be too proud to accept it, I am
requested to offer you a free passage from the other officers of the
mess, as we feel convinced that your company will more than repay us.
The proportion of the expense of your passage to the other two will be
but one or two pounds; a trifle, indeed, but still of consequence to
them; and that is the only expense which you will incur. If you can
afford to pay that, any time after your arrival in England, we shall be
most happy to receive you, and make the passage as comfortable and
pleasant as circumstances will permit."
To this most liberal proposition Newton most gladly acceded. The
officers who had come on deck with the first lieutenant invited Newton
below, where he was introduced to the remainder of the mess, who were
most of them fine young men, as happy and careless as if youth was to
last for ever. Having pledged each other in a glass of grog, Newton
returned on shore. The next morning he made his arrangements, paid his
bill at the hotel, and before twelve o'clock was again on board of the
frigate, which lay with the Blue Peter hoisted, and her fore-topsail
loose, waiting for her captain, who was still detained on shore while
the admiral and governor made up their despatches.
When Newton had applied to the captain of the frigate for a passage
home, he could hardly believe it possible that the person to whom he was
introduced could be entrusted with the command of so fine a vessel. He
was a slight-made, fair complexioned lad, of nineteen or twenty years at
the most, without an incipient mark of manhood on his chin. He appeared
lively, active, and good-natured; but what were the other qualifications
he possessed, to discover such a mark of confidence, were to Newton an
enigma requiring solution.
It was, however, to be explained in very few words. He was the son of
the admiral of the station, and (as at that period there was no
regulation with respect to age, to check the most rapid promotion),
after he had served his time as midshipman, in less than two months he
had been raised through the different ranks of lieutenant, commander,
and post-captain. On receiving the latter step, he was at the same time
appointed to the frigate in question,--one of the finest which belonged
to his Majesty's service. In order, however, that he should to a certain
degree be in leading-strings, a very old and efficient officer had been
selected by the admiral as his first lieutenant. Whether, in common
justice, the captain and his subordinate ought not to have changed
places, I leave the reader to guess; and it was the more unfair towards
the worthy old first lieutenant, as, if the admiral had not entertained
such a high opinion of his abilities and judgment as to confide to him
the charge of his son, he would long before have been promoted himself
to one of the many vacancies which so repeatedly occurred.
Captain Carrington had all the faults which, if no inherent, will
naturally be acquired by those who are too early entrusted with power.
He was self-sufficient, arbitrary, and passionate. His good qualities
consisted in a generous disposition, a kindness of heart when not
irritated, a manly courage, and a frank acknowledgment of his errors.
Had he been allowed to serve a proper time in the various grades of his
profession--had he been taught to obey before he had been permitted to
_command_--he had within him all the materials for a good officer: as it
was, he was neither officer, sailor, nor anything else, except a
_spoiled boy_. He would often attempt to carry on the duty as captain,
and as often fail from want of knowledge. He would commence manoeuvring
the ship, but find himself unable to proceed. At these unfortunate
_break downs_, he would be obliged to resign the speaking-trumpet to the
first lieutenant; and if, as sometimes happened, the latter (either from
accident, or perhaps from a pardonable pique at having the duty taken
out of his hands), was not at his elbow to prompt him when at fault--at
these times the cant phrase of the officers, taken from some farce, used
to be, "_York, you're wanted_."
About an hour before sunset the juvenile captain made his appearance on
board, rather _fresh_ from taking leave of his companions and
acquaintances on shore. The frigate was got under weigh by the first
lieutenant, and, before the sun had disappeared, was bounding over the
foaming seas in the direction of the country which had nurtured to
maturity the gnarled oak selected for her beautiful frame. Newton joined
his new messmates in drinking a prosperous passage to old England; and,
with a heart grateful for his improved prospects, retired to the hammock
which had been prepared for him.
When Newton rose in the morning, he found that the wind had shifted
contrary during the night, and that the frigate was close hauled,
darting through the smooth water with her royals set. At ten o'clock the
master proposed tacking the ship, and the first lieutenant went down to
report his wish to the captain.
"Very well, Mr Nourse," replied the captain; "turn the hands up."
"Ay, ay, sir," replied the first lieutenant, leaving the cabin.
"Call the boatswain, quarter-master--all hands 'bout ship."
"All hands 'bout ship," was now bellowed out by the boatswain, and
re-echoed by his mates at the several hatchways, with a due proportion
of whistling from their pipes.
"Tumble up, there--tumble up smartly, my lads."
In a minute every man was on deck, and at his station; many of them,
however, _tumbling down_ in their laudable hurry to _tumble up_.
"Silence there, fore and aft--every man to his station," cried the first
lieutenant through his speaking-trumpet. "All ready, sir," reported the
first lieutenant to the captain, who had followed him on deck. "Shall we
put the helm down?"
"If you please, Mr Nourse."
"Down with the helm."
When the master reported it down, "The helm's a-lee," roared the first
lieutenant.
But Captain Carrington, who thought light winds and smooth water a good
opportunity for practice, interrupted him as he was walking towards the
weather gangway "Mr Nourse, Mr Nourse, if you please, I'll work the
ship."
"Very good, sir," replied the first lieutenant, handing him the
speaking-trumpet. "Rise tacks and sheets, if you please, sir," continued
the first lieutenant (_sotto voce_), "the sails are lifting."
"Tacks and sheets!" cried the captain.
"Gather in on the lee main-tack, my lads," said the first lieutenant,
going to the lee gangway to see the duty performed.
Now, Captain Carrington did know that "mainsail haul" was the next word
of command; but as this order requires a degree of precision as to the
exact time at which it is given, he looked over his shoulder for the
first lieutenant, who usually prompted him in this exigence. Not seeing
him there, he became disconcerted; and during the few seconds that he
cast his anxious eyes about the deck, to discover where the first
lieutenant was, the ship had passed head to wind.
"Mainsail haul!" at last cried the captain; but it was too late; the
yards would not swing round; everything went wrong; and the ship was _in
irons_.
"You hauled a little too late, sir," observed the first lieutenant who
had joined him. "You must box her off, sir, if you please."
But Captain Carrington, although he could put the ship in irons, did not
know how to take her out.
"The ship is certainly most cursedly out of trim," observed he; "she'll
neither wear nor stay. Try her yourself, Mr Nourse," continued the
captain, "I'm sick of her!"--and with a heightened colour, he handed the
speaking-trumpet over to the first lieutenant.
"York, you're wanted," observed the lieutenant abaft to the marine
officer, dropping down the corners of his mouth.
"York, you're wanted," tittered the midshipmen, in whispers, as they
passed each other.
"Well, I've won your grog, Jim," cried one of the marines, who was
standing at the forebrace; "I knew he'd never do it."
"He's like me," observed another, in a low tone; "he left school too
'arly, and lost his edication."
Such were the results of injudicious patronage. A fine ship entrusted to
a boy, ignorant of his duty; laughed at, not only by the officers, but
even by the men; and the honour of the country at stake, and running no
small risk of being tarnished, if the frigate met with a vigorous
opponent.[1] Thank God, this is now over! Judicious regulations have put
a stop to such selfish and short-sighted patronage. Selfish, because
those who were guilty of it risked the honour of the nation to advance
the interests of their _protégés_; short-sighted, because it is of
little use making a young man a captain if you cannot make him an
officer. I might here enter into a discussion which might be of some
use, but it would be out of place in a work intended more for amusement
than for instruction; nor would it in all probability be read. I always
make it a rule myself, to skip over all those parts introduced in a
light work which are of denser materials than the rest; and I cannot
expect but that others will do the same. There is a time and place for
all things; and like the master of Ravenswood, "I bide my time."
[Footnote 1: It is true that an officer must now serve a certain time in
the various grades before promotion, which time is supposed to be
sufficient for him to acquire a knowledge of his profession; but whether
that knowledge is obtained depends, as before, upon the young officer's
prospects in life. If from family interest he is sure of promotion, he
is not quite so sure of being a seaman.]
The frigate dashed gallantly through the water, at one time careening to
an adverse wind, at another rolling before a favouring gale: and, to
judge from her rapid motion, she was not in such very bad trim as
Captain Carrington had found out. Each day rapidly brought her nearer to
their cherished home, as "she walked the waters like a thing of life." I
can conceive no prouder situation in this world than being captain of a
fine frigate, with a well-disciplined crew; but d--n your
_eight-and-twenties_!
"We had better take in the royals, if you please, sir," said the first
lieutenant, as he came, with his hat in his hand, into the cabin, where
the captain was at dinner with several of the officers, the table
crowded with a variety of decanters and French green bottles.
"Pho! nonsense! Mr Nourse; we'll carry them a little longer," replied
the captain, who had been _carrying too much sail_ another way. "Sit
down and take a glass of wine with us. You always cry out before you're
hurt, Nourse."
"I thank you, sir," replied the first lieutenant, seriously; "you will
excuse me: it is time to beat to quarters."
"Well, then, do so; I had no idea it was so late. Mr Forster, you don't
pass the bottle."
"I have taken enough, I thank you, sir."
The officers present also made the same statement.
"Well, then, if you won't, gentlemen--steward, let's have some coffee."
The coffee appeared and disappeared; and the officers made their bows
and quitted the cabin as the first lieutenant entered it to report the
muster at quarters.
"All present and sober, sir. I am afraid, sir," continued he, "the masts
will be over the side if we do not clew up the royals."
"Stop a moment, if you please, Mr Nourse, until I go up and judge for
myself," replied the captain, who was inclined to be pertinacious.
Captain Carrington went on deck. The men were still ranged round the
decks at their quarters; more than one pair of eyes were raised aloft to
watch the masts, which were bending like coach-whips, and complaining
bitterly.
"Shall we beat a retreat, and pipe hands to shorten sail, sir? We had
better take in the third reefs, sir;--it looks very squally to-night,"
observed the first lieutenant.
"Really, Mr Nourse, I don't exactly perceive the necessity--"
But at that moment the fore and main-top-gallant-masts went over the
side; and the look-out man at the fore-top-gallant-mast head, who had
been called down by the first lieutenant, but did not hear the
injunction, was hurled into the sea to leeward.
"Helm down!" cried the master.
"Man overboard!--man overboard!" echoed round the decks; while some of
the officers and men jumped into the quarter-boats, and hastily cast off
the gripes and lashings.
Captain Carrington, who was immediately sobered by the catastrophe,
which he felt had been occasioned by his own wilfulness, ran aft to the
taffrail; and when he saw the poor sailor struggling in the waves,
impelled by his really fine nature, he darted overboard to save him; but
he was not by any means a powerful swimmer, and, encumbered with his
apparel, it was soon evident that he could do no more than keep himself
afloat.
Newton, who perceived how matters stood, with great presence of mind
caught up two of the oars from the boat hanging astern, and darted over
to the assistance of both. One oar he first carried to the seaman, who
was exhausted and sinking. Placing it under his arms, he then swam with
the other to Captain Carrington, who could not have remained above water
but a few seconds more without the timely relief. He then quietly swam
by the side of Captain Carrington, without any attempt at extra
exertion.
The boat was soon lowered down, and in a few minutes they were all three
again on board, and in safety. Captain Carrington thanked Newton for his
assistance, and acknowledged his error to the first lieutenant. The
officers and men looked upon Newton with respect and increased
good-will; and the sailors declared that the captain was a prime little
fellow, although he hadn't had an "edication."
Nothing worthy of remark occurred during the remainder of the passage.
The ship arrived at Plymouth, and Newton took leave of his friendly
shipmates, Captain Carrington requesting that Newton would command any
interest that he had, if ever it should be required. It was with a
throbbing heart that Newton descended from the outside of the coach
which conveyed him to Liverpool, and hastened towards the obscure street
in which he left his father residing. It was about four o'clock in the
afternoon when Newton arrived at his father's door. To his delight, he
perceived through the shop-window that his father was sitting at his
bench; but his joy was checked when he perceived his haggard
countenance. The old man appeared to be absorbed in deep thought, his
cheek resting upon his hand, and his eyes cast down upon the little
bench, to which the vice used to be fixed, but from which it was now
removed.
The door was ajar, and Newton entered with his portmanteau in his hand;
but whatever noise he might have made was not sufficient to rouse
Nicholas, who continued in the same position.
With one glance round the shop, Newton perceived that it was bare of
everything; even the glazed cases on the counter, which contained the
spectacles, &c., had disappeared. All bespoke the same tale, as did the
appearance of his father--misery and starvation.
"My dearest father!" cried Newton, unable to contain himself any longer.
"How!--what?" cried Nicholas, starting at the voice, but not looking
round. "Pho! nonsense!--he's dead," continued the old man, communing
with himself, as he again settled into his former position.
"My dearest father, I'm not dead!--look round--'tis Newton! alive and
well."
"Newton!" replied the old man, rising from his stool, and tottering to
the counter, which was between them, on which he laid both his hands to
support himself, as he looked into his son's face. "'Tis Newton, sure
enough! My dear, dear boy!--then you an't dead?"
"No, indeed, father; I am alive and well, thank God!"
"Thank God, too!" said Nicholas, dropping his face on the counter, and
bursting into tears.
Newton sprang over to the side where his father was, and embraced him.
For some time they were locked in each other's arms; when Nicholas, who
had recovered his composure, looked at Newton, and said, "Are you
hungry, my dear boy?"
"Yes, indeed I am," replied Newton, smiling, as the tears coursed down
his cheeks; "for I have had nothing since breakfast."
"And I have had nothing for these two days," replied Nicholas, leaning
back to the wall in evident exhaustion.
"Good God! you don't say so?" cried Newton; "where can I buy something
ready cooked?"
"At the shop round the corner: there's a nice piece of boiled beef
there; I saw it yesterday. I offered my improvement on the duplex for a
slice; but he would not trust me, even for that."
Newton ran out, and in a few minutes reappeared with the beef in
question, some bread, and a pot of porter, with two plates and knives
and forks, which the people had lent him, upon his putting down a
deposit. He had laid them on the counter before his father, who, without
saying a word, commenced his repast: the beef disappeared--the bread
vanished--the porter-pot was raised to his mouth, and in a moment it was
dry!
"Never made a better dinner, Newton," observed Nicholas: "but I wish
there had been a little more of it."
Newton, who had only been a spectator, immediately went out for another
supply; and on his return assisted his father in its demolition.
"Newton," said Nicholas, who for a few minutes had relinquished his
task, "I've been thinking--that--I should like another slice of that
beef! and Newton, as I said before--I'll trouble you for the porter!"