Brother Jack, a seaman's bag over his shoulders, trudged sturdily ahead;
father followed, carrying the oars, spars, sails, and other gear of the
wherry, while as I toddled alongside him I held on with one hand to the
skirt of his pea-jacket, and griped the boat-hook which had been given
to my charge with the other.
From the front of the well-known inn, the "Keppel's Head," the portrait
of the brave old admiral, which I always looked at with awe and
admiration, thinking what a great man he must have been, gazed sternly
down on us as we made our way along the Common Hard of Portsea towards
the water's edge.
Father and Jack hauled in the wherry, and having deposited their burdens
in her, set to work to mop her out and to put her to rights, while I
stood, still grasping the boat-hook, which I held upright with the point
in the ground, watching their proceedings, till father, lifting me up in
his arms, placed me in the stern-sheets.
"Sit there, Peter, and mind you don't topple overboard, my son," he
said, in the kind tone in which he always spoke to me and Jack.
I was too small to be of much use, indeed father had hitherto only taken
me with him when he was merely going across to Gosport and back or
plying about the harbour.
It was a more eventful day to Jack than to me. When I saw mother
packing his bag, I had a sort of idea that he was going to sea, and when
the next morning she threw her arms round his neck and burst into tears,
and Jack began to cry too, I understood that he would be away for a long
time.
Jack had been of great use to father, who grieved as much as mother to
part with him, but, as he said, he wouldn't, if he could help it, bring
him up as a long-shore lubber, and a few voyages would be the making of
him.
"He can't get none of the right sort of eddication on shore," observed
father. "He'll learn on board a man-of-war what duty and discipline
mean, and to my mind till a lad knows that he isn't worth his salt."
The _Lapwing_ brig-of-war, fitted out at Sheerness, had brought up at
Spithead, and her commander, Captain Rogers, with whom father had long
served, meeting him on shore, and hearing that he had a son old enough
to go to sea, offered to take Jack and look after him.
When Commander Rogers was a midshipman, he fell overboard, and would
have been drowned had not father jumped in and saved him. He was very
grateful, but had not till now had an opportunity of practically showing
his gratitude. Father, therefore, gladly accepted his offer, being sure
that he would do his best for Jack; and as Blue Peter was flying from
the masthead of the brig, there was no time to be lost in taking him on
board.
At the time I was too young, as I was saying, to understand these
matters, but I learnt about them afterwards. All I then knew was that
brother Jack was going for a sailor aboard of a man-of-war.
Father and Jack were just shoving off, when two persons who had come out
of the "Keppel's Head" were seen hurrying down the Hard with cases and
packages in their hands and under their arms. One, as his dress and
appearance showed, was a seafaring man; the other wore long toggery, as
sailors call the costume of landsmen.
"If you are going out to Spithead, my man, we'll go with you," shouted
the first.
"Ay, ay, sir! I'll be glad enough to take you," answered father, happy
to get a fare, instead of making nothing by the trip.
"We'll give you five shillings apiece," said the officer, for such he
seemed to be.
"Thank you, sir; that will do. What ship shall I put you aboard?" asked
father.
"The _Intrepid_, South Sea whaler--she's lying to the eastward of the
men-of-war. We shall see her when we get abreast of Southsea Castle,"
answered the officer.
"Step aboard, then, sir," said father. "The tide will soon have done
making out of the harbour, and there's no time to lose."
The strangers took their seats in the stern-sheets, and father and Jack,
shoving off, pulled out into the stream.
The officer took the yoke-lines, and by the way he handled them, showed
that he knew what he was about. Careful steering is always required
where tides run strong and vessels are assembled; but especially was it
at that time, when, peace having been just proclaimed, Portsmouth
Harbour was crowded with men-of-war lately returned from foreign
stations, and with transports and victuallers come in to be discharged;
while all the way up towards Porchester Castle lay, now dismantled in
vast numbers, those stout old ships with names renowned which had borne
the victorious flag of England in many a fierce engagement. Dockyard
lighters, man-of-war boats, wherries crowded with passengers, and other
craft of various descriptions, were sailing or pulling about in all
directions, so that the stranger had to keep his eyes about him to avoid
being run down by, or running into, some other boat or vessel.
"We'll step the mast, and make sail while we're in smooth water, sir,"
said father. "There's a lop of a sea outside, when it wouldn't be
pleasant to this gentleman if we were to wait till then," and he gave a
look at the landsman, who even now did not seem altogether comfortable.
"The doctor hasn't been used to the sea, but he'll soon get accustomed
to it. No fear of that, Cockle, eh?" said the officer, who was, he
afterwards told father, second mate of the _Intrepid_.
"I hope I shall, Mr Griffiths, but I confess I don't much like the
thought of going through those foaming waves out there in such a
cockleshell of a boat as this," answered the doctor. "No offence to
you, my friend," he added, turning to father.
"Ha! Ha! Ha! That's just what the boat is at present," said the mate,
laughing. "Do you twig, doctor? Do you twig? She carries you and your
fortunes, and if she takes us safe alongside the _Intrepid_--and I see
no reason why she shouldn't--we shall be obliged to her and her owner
here. What's your name, my man?"
"Jack Trawl, sir; at your service," answered father. "Many's the time
I've been out to Spithead in this here wherry when it's been blowing
great guns and small arms, and she's ridden over the seas like a duck.
The gentleman needn't be afraid."
The doctor, who did not seem to like the mate's joking, or father's
remark about being afraid, sat silent for some time.
"I'll take the helm, sir, if you please," said father, who had stepped
the mast and hauled aft the sheets. "My wherry likes me to have hold of
her, and maybe she mightn't behave as well as she should if a stranger
was steering."
"I understand," answered Mr Griffiths, laughing. "You are wise not to
trust any one but yourself. I'll yield to you in handling this style of
boat under sail, though I may have been more at sea than you have."
"I doubt that, sir, as I went afloat not long after you were born, if
not before, and for well-nigh thirty years seldom set foot on shore,"
answered father. "All that time I served His Majesty--God bless him--
and if there was to come another war I'd be ready to serve him again, as
my boy Jack there is just going to do."
"A fine lad he seems, but he'd better by half have joined the merchant
service than submitted to the tyranny of a man-of-war," said the mate.
"There are just two opinions, sir, as to that," answered father, dryly.
"Haul down the tack, Jack, and get a pull of the foresheet," he sang
out.
There was a fresh breeze from the south-east blowing almost up the
harbour, but by keeping over on the Portsmouth side, aided by the tide,
we stood clear out of it. The wherry soon began to pitch into the seas,
which came rolling in round Southsea Castle in a way which made the
doctor look very blue. The mate tried to cheer him up, but he evidently
didn't like it, especially when the spray came flying over the bows, and
quickly wet him and most of us well-nigh through to the skin. Every now
and then more than the mere spray came aboard us, and the doctor became
more and more uncomfortable.
Father now called Jack aft to bale out the water, and he set to work
heaving it overboard as fast as it came in. I laughed, and did not feel
a bit afraid, because when I looked up at father's face I saw that there
was nothing to be afraid about. At length the mate seemed to think that
we were carrying on too long.
"Doctor Cockle is not accustomed to this sort of thing," he observed.
"Hadn't we better take in a reef or two?"
"Not if you wish to get aboard your ship, sir, before night," answered
father. "I know my boat, and I know what she'll do. Trust me, sir, and
in less than half-an-hour you'll be safe alongside the _Intrepid_."
The mate seemed satisfied, and began talking to me, amused at the way I
sat bobbing, as the spray came aboard, under an old pea-jacket which
father had thrown over my shoulders, and grinning when I found that I
had escaped the shower by which the others got well sprinkled.
"I'll not forget you, my little fellow," he said, laughing. "You'll
make a prime seaman one of these days. Will you remember my name?"
"Yes, sir, I think I shall, and your face too," I answered.
"You are a sharp chap, I see," he observed, in the same tone as before.
"Do you intend to make a sailor of him?" he asked, turning to father.
"Not if I can find a better calling for the boy, sir," answered father.
"I've heard say, and believe it, that man proposes and God disposes. It
mayn't be in my power to choose for him."
"Ay, ay, you're right there, my friend," said the mate. "If he had been
as old as his brother I would have given him a berth aboard the
_Intrepid_."
It may seem curious that, young as I was, I should have remembered these
remarks, but so it was, and I had reason long afterwards to do so.
Even sooner than father had said we had hooked on to the whaler, a
barque of about three hundred tons, her black hull rising high out of
the water, and with three boats, sharp at both ends, hoisted up to
davits in a line on each side. The good-natured mate having paid the
fare and given me a bright shilling in addition, helped the doctor, who
wasn't very well able to help himself, up on deck, and we then, shoving
off, stood for the man-of-war brig.
Jack almost broke down as we approached her. Not that he was unwilling
to go away, but that he was very sorry to part from father and me, and I
know that we were very sorry to part with him.
"Jack, my son," said father, and his voice wasn't as firm as usual, "we
may never meet again on this side the grave. You may be taken or I may
be taken. What I want to say to you is this, and they may be well-nigh
the last words you will ever hear me speak. Ever remember that God's
eye is upon you, and so live that you may be prepared at any moment to
die. I can't say more than that, my boy. Bless you. God bless you."
"I will, father, I will," answered Jack, and he passed the back of his
hand across his eyes.
We were soon up to the brig. He gave me a hug and a kiss, and then,
having made fast the end of the rope hove to us, he griped father's
hand, and sprang up the side of the brig. His bag was hoisted up after
him by an old shipmate of father's, who sang out, "All right, Trawl,
I'll look after your boy!"
We had at once to shove off, for the brig was rolling considerably, and
there was a risk of the wherry being swamped alongside. As we stood
away I looked astern. Jack had climbed into the fore-rigging and was
waving to us. We soon lost sight of him. When, if ever, should we see
him again?
Having the wind and tide with us, we quickly ran back into the harbour.
For reasons which will appear by-and-by I ought to say a few words
respecting my family, though I don't flatter myself the world in general
will be much concerned about the matter. Some people are said to be
born with silver spoons in their mouths; if that means, as I suppose it
does, that from their earliest days they enjoy all the luxuries of life,
then I may say that when I first saw the light I must have had a very
rough wooden one between my toothless gums. However, as I've often
since thought, it isn't so much what a man is born to which signifies,
as what he becomes by his honesty, steadiness, perseverance, and above
all by his earnest desire to do right in the sight of God.
My father, Jack Trawl (as he spelt his name, or, rather, as others spelt
it for him, he being no great hand with a pen), was an old
man-of-war's-man. I well remember hearing him say that his father, who
had been mate of a merchantman, and had been lost at sea when he himself
was a boy, was a Shetlander; and in an old Testament which had belonged
to his mother, and which he had treasured as the only relic of either of
his parents, I found the name written Troil. The ink was very faint,
but I made out the words clearly, "Margaret Troil, given to her by her
husband Angus." This confirmed me in the idea I had formed, that both
my father's parents had come from the far off island of Shetland.
My father being a sober, steady man, having saved more of his pay and
prize-money than had most of his shipmates, when he left the service
bought a wherry, hired and furnished a house, and married my mother,
Polly Treherne, the daughter of a bumboat-woman who plied her trade in
Portsmouth Harbour.
I have no cause to be ashamed of my grandmother, for every one who knew
her said, and I am sure of it, that she was as worthy a woman in her
line of life as ever lived. She gave good measure and charged honest
prices, whether she was dealing in soft tack, fruit, vegetables, cheese,
herrings, or any of the other miscellaneous articles with which she
supplied the seamen of His Majesty's ships; and her daughter Polly, who
assisted her, was acknowledged by all to be as good and kind-hearted as
she was pretty. No wonder, then, that she won the heart of my brave
father when she visited the ship in which he had just come home, or
that, knowing his worth, although she had many suitors, she consented to
marry him.
For some time all went well, but what happened is a proof that honest,
industrious persons may be overtaken by misfortunes as well as other
people. Father had no intention that his wife should follow her
mother's calling, as he could make enough to keep the pot boiling; but
after they had been married a few years, and several children had been
born, all of whom died in their infancy, except my eldest brother Jack,
and me and Mary, the two youngest, bad times came.