HARRY AND WILLY LEAVE HOME--JOURNEY TO PORTSMOUTH--THE "BLUE POSTS"--
MIDSHIPMEN'S TRICKS--ON BOARD THE "RANGER"--THE SOLDIER-OFFICERS--THE
SERGEANT'S WIFE--MRS MORLEY AND HER FAMILY--MRS RUMBELOW NURSES
WILLY--CAPE OF GOOD HOPE--SENT TO LAND TROOPS--THE "RANGER" IN DANGER--
DRIVING TOWARDS SHORE--THE LAST ANCHOR HOLDS--SAIL MADE--MRS RUMBELOW'S
SERMON--TROOPS CARRIED ON.
One bright morning at the end of January, the Portsmouth coach drove up
to Major Shafto's door. The Diceys were breakfasting at the house, for
Harry Shafto's leave was up, and he was to take Willy with him on board
the "Ranger," then lying in Portsmouth harbour. Farewells were said,
fond embraces exchanged, for Harry, though a tall young man, was not
ashamed to kiss his mother again and again, and his dear young sisters;
nor did Willy mind the tears which trickled unbidden from his eyes. His
heart was very full; though he had so longed to go to sea, now that he
was actually going, he felt that he should be ready, if required, to
give up all his bright hopes, and stay at home.
In spite of the cold, the whole family came out and stood at the door
while the two young sailors mounted to the top of the coach. "All
right," shouted the guard, as the last article of luggage was handed up.
The coachman gave a gentle lash to his horses, and the lads, standing
up, turned round to give a last fond look at all those they loved so
well.
This, it must be understood, was some time before Charles Dicey and his
sisters started on their more important expedition. The young sailors
expected to be home again in little more than a year, or perhaps even in
less time, for the "Ranger" was a Government troop-ship, with the usual
officers and crew, however, of a sloop-of-war. Harry Shafto would have
preferred being in a dashing frigate, but, at the same time, he was glad
to serve under so worthy a captain as Commander Newcombe.
Harry and his young companion, on their arrival at Portsmouth, went to
the "Blue Posts,"--not an aristocratic hotel, certainly, but one
resorted to in those days by the junior officers of the service. Willy
felt very proud of his new uniform, and could not help handling his dirk
as he sat by Harry Shafto's side in the coffee-room. Several midshipmen
and masters' assistants came in. Two or three who took their seats at
the same table asked Willy to what ship he belonged. "To the `Ranger',"
he answered proudly; "and a very fine ship she is."
"Oh, ay, a lobster carrier," observed a young midshipman, in a squeaky
voice. "I have heard of old Newcombe. He is the savage fellow who tars
and feathers his midshipmen if they get the ship in irons, or cannot box
the compass when he tells them to do it."
"I have been told, on the contrary, that he is a very kind man,"
answered Willy; "and as to getting the ship in irons or boxing the
compass, I do not think he would allow either the one thing or the
other."
"What! do you mean to call my word in question, youngster?" exclaimed
the midshipman. "Do you know who I am?"
"Tell him you think he has eaten a good deal of the stuff they feed
geese on," whispered Harry.
Willy did as he was advised. The midshipman on this got very angry,
especially when all his companions laughed at him, and advised him to
let the "young chip" alone, as there was evidently an "old block" at his
elbow, who was not likely to stand nonsense. At last the midshipman,
who said that his name was Peter Patch, acknowledged that he himself had
just been appointed to the "Ranger," and that he believed old Newcombe
to be a very good sort of a fellow, considering what officers generally
are.
Next morning, after breakfast, Harry and his young companion went on
board their ship, and Harry reported himself and Willy to the
first-lieutenant, Mr Tobin. Captain Newcombe was on board; and when
Harry, accompanied by Willy, went up and spoke to him on the
quarterdeck, he received them very kindly.
Willy, by Harry's advice, set to work at once to learn his duty. Peter
Patch, though fond of practical jokes, was very good-natured, and
assisted him as far as he could, telling him the names of the ropes, and
showing him how to knot and splice, and the principle of sailing and
steering a ship. Willy, who was a sharp little fellow, quickly took in
all the instruction given him.
The midshipmen's berth was somewhat confined, as, indeed, were those of
the other officers, as a large portion of the space below was given up
for the use of the troops. The poop cabins were devoted to the
accommodation of the military officers and their families. There was
also a space occupied by the hospital, and another portion by the women
who accompanied the regiment, certain non-commissioned officers and
privates being allowed to have their wives and children with them.
At length the ship was ready, and the soldiers were seen approaching her
from Gosport. As they came up the side, they formed on deck, and each
man had his allotted berth shown him; so that, although there were two
hundred men, with a proportionate number of non-commissioned officers
and their wives and families, there was perfect order and regularity
observed. The "Ranger" had the honour of conveying Colonel Morley, who
commanded the regiment, and there was a Mrs and two Miss Morleys. Then
there was Captain Power, Captain Gosling, and Captain Twopenny; and
Lieutenants Dawson, Hickman, and Ward; with Ensigns Holt and Gonne.
There was a surgeon, David Davis, who hailed from Wales; and a
paymaster, who was the stoutest man on board. There were several
sergeants, but only one, Serjeant Rumbelow, whose name it is necessary
to record. He was accompanied by his wife, who was a person well
capable of keeping order, not only among the soldiers' wives, but among
the soldiers themselves. She was a woman of powerful frame and voice,
tall and gaunt, and of a dauntless spirit. The regiment had not been on
board many hours before Willy saw her go up to two young soldiers who
were quarrelling. Seizing them, she knocked their heads together.
"There, lads," she exclaimed; "make it up this moment, or the next time
I catch you at that work I'll knock them a precious deal harder."
Willy Dicey looked with a good deal of awe at Mrs Morley and her
daughters, who appeared to be very great people. They quickly made
themselves at home in their cabins, and had their work-boxes out, and a
number of things arranged, as if they had been living there for weeks.
Captain Newcombe made some remark on the subject. Mrs Morley replied,
laughing, "You need not be surprised, for this will be the tenth voyage
I have made, and you may suppose, therefore, that I am pretty well
accustomed to roughing it. This ship is like a royal yacht compared to
some vessels I have sailed in. My husband was not always a colonel, and
subalterns and their wives have to put up with rough quarters
sometimes."
Harry Shafto was glad to find that most of the officers were gentlemanly
men, and there appeared every prospect of their having a pleasant
voyage.
As soon as the troops were on board, the ship went out to Spithead, and
having taken in her powder and a few more stores, with a fair wind she
stood down Channel.
The "Ranger" had to undergo not a little tumbling about in the Bay of
Biscay, no unusual occurrence in that part of the ocean: it contributed
to shake people and things into their places; and by the time she got
into the latitude of Madeira, both military and naval officers, and the
ladies on board, were pretty well acquainted. Colonel Morley found out
that he had served with Major Shafto, and was very happy to make the
acquaintance of his son; and Mrs Twopenny, for Captain Twopenny was
married, was acquainted with the Diceys, and took Willy Dicey under her
especial patronage. Mrs Rumbelow found out, somehow or other, that she
had been nurse in his mother's family, and, of course, Willy became a
great pet of hers. Willy fell ill, and Mrs Rumbelow begged that she
might nurse him, a favour very readily granted: indeed, had it not been
for her watchful care, the doctor declared that little Dicey would have
slipped through his fingers.
We need not accompany the "Ranger" in her course. With mostly
favourable winds, she had a quick run to the Cape of Good Hope, and,
without any accident, came to an anchor off Cape Town. Those who had
not been there before looked with interest on the novel scene which
presented itself from the anchorage. Willy Dicey, soon after his
arrival, wrote a long letter home, from which one extract must be
given:--
"Before us rose the perpendicular sides of Table Mountain, while on
either hand we saw the crags of the Lion's Head and Devil's Peak, the
former overhung by a large cloud, known as the Table-cloth. As it
reached the edge, it seemed to fall down for a short distance, and then
to disperse, melting away in the clear air. The town still preserves
the characteristics given to it by its founders, many of the houses
retaining a Dutch look, a considerable number of the inhabitants,
indeed, having also the appearance of veritable Hollanders. The town is
laid out regularly, most of the streets crossing each other at right
angles, with rows of oak, poplar, and pine-trees lining the sides of the
principal ones. Many of the houses have vine and rose-trees trailed
over them; while the shutters and doors, and the woodwork generally, are
painted of various colours, which give them a somewhat quaint but neat
and picturesque appearance."
Harry twice got a run on shore, but his duties confined him on board for
the rest of the time the ship remained. She was on the point of sailing
when news was received of a serious outbreak of the Kaffirs. A small
body of troops on the frontier had been almost overwhelmed, and
compelled to entrench themselves till relief could be sent to them. The
Commander-in-chief accordingly ordered the "Ranger" to proceed
immediately to the nearest point where it was supposed troops could be
disembarked. It is known as Waterloo Bay. She arrived off the bay in
the evening; but Captain Newcombe, not deeming it prudent to run into an
unknown place during the night, stood away from the land, intending to
return at daylight. In a short time, however, it fell calm. The lead
was hove. It was evident that a current and swell combined were
drifting the ship fast towards the shore, on which the surf was breaking
heavily. On this the captain ordered an anchor to be let go, which
happily brought her up. Though there was scarcely a breath of air,
every now and then heavy rollers came slowly in, lifting the ship
gently, and then, passing on, broke with a terrific roar on the rocky
coast. The passengers were on deck. The young military officers
chatted and laughed as usual, and endeavoured to make themselves
agreeable to the ladies. Colonel Morley, however, looked grave. He
clearly understood the dangerous position in which they were placed.
Willy Dicey asked Harry what he thought about the matter.
"We must do our duty, and pray that the anchor may hold," answered
Harry.
"But if that gives way?" said Willy.
"We must let go another, and then another."
"But if they fail us, and no breeze springs up?" said Willy.
"Then you and I must not expect to be admirals," answered Harry.
"What do you mean?" asked the young midshipman.
"That a short time will show whether any one on board this ship is
likely to be alive to-morrow," said Shafto.
"You don't mean to say that, Harry?" remarked Willy, feeling that the
time had come when he must summon up all the courage he possessed, and
of the amount he had as yet no experience. "You don't seem afraid."
"There's a great deal of difference between knowing a danger and fearing
to face it," said Harry. "Not a seaman on board does not know it as
well as I do, though they do not show what they think. Look at the
captain--he is as cool and collected as if we were at anchor in a snug
harbour; yet he is fully aware of the power of these rollers, and the
nature of the ground which holds the anchor. There is the order to
range another cable."
Harry and Willy parted to attend to their respective duties. Night came
on, but neither Commander Newcombe nor any of his officers went below.
They were anxiously looking out for a breeze which might enable the ship
to stand off from the dangerous coast. The night was passing by, and
still the anchor held; at length, in the morning watch, some time before
daylight, a breeze sprang up from the eastward, and the order was given
to get under weigh. As the men went stamping round the capstan, a loud
crash was heard.
"The messenger has given way, sir," cried Mr Tobin, the
first-lieutenant. Out ran the cable to the clench, carrying away the
stoppers, and passing through both compressors. At length the messenger
was again shackled, and the anchor hove up, when it was found that both
flukes had been carried away.
Not, however, for some hours did the ship succeed in reaching Waterloo
Bay, where she brought up, about a mile and a-half from the
landing-place. A signal was made:--"Can troops land?" which was
answered from the shore, "Not until the weather moderates," the wind
having by this time increased to a stiff breeze. A spring was now got
on the cable, in case of its being necessary to slip; for it was very
evident, if so heavy a surf set on shore in comparatively fine weather,
that, should it come on to blow from the southward, the position of the
ship would be still more critical.
As the day drew on, the breeze freshened, but the rollers at the same
time increased, and broke heavily half-a-cable's length to the westward
of the ship, foaming and roaring as they met the resistance of the
rockbound shore. The position of the "Ranger" was more dangerous than
ever. The crew were at their stations; the soldiers were on deck,
divided into parties under their officers, ready to assist in any work
they might be directed to perform. Topgallant masts and royal masts
were got up, and everything was prepared for making sail. The order was
now given for shortening in the cable. As it was got on board, it was
found that it had swept over a sharp rock about fifty fathoms from the
anchor, and it seemed a miracle that it had not been cut through.
"Avast heaving," cried the captain. "Loose sails." In an instant the
crew were aloft.
At that moment, as the topsails were filling, the second-lieutenant
cried out from forward, "The cable has parted."
"Let go the second bower," cried the captain. The ship was drifting
towards the rocks. Willy held his breath. What Harry had said might
soon be realised. Mrs Morley and her daughters were on deck. They
stood together watching the shore. Their cheeks were paler than usual,
but they showed no sign of alarm, talking calmly and earnestly together.
As Willy Dicey observed them, he wondered whether they could be aware
of the danger they were in. To be sure, they might be lowered into the
boat before the ship struck, but then the Colonel was not likely to quit
his men, and they could not be indifferent to his safety. Still the
ship drifted.
"Let go the sheet-anchor," was the next order. All were looking out
anxiously to ascertain whether she was driving nearer the treacherous
surf. Many a breast drew a relieved breath. The last anchor had
brought her up. Sails were now furled and royal yards sent down.
Near the "Ranger" an English barque was at anchor. Her master came on
board, and volunteered to assist in making a hawser fast to his vessel,
for the purpose of casting the ship the right way. "You will find,
Captain Newcombe, that the rollers will soon be increasing, and, knowing
the place as I do, I have great doubts whether the anchors will hold,"
he observed; "I wish you were well out of this." As he spoke, he cast
an anxious glance astern, where the surf was breaking with terrific
violence. The offer was gladly accepted. The two cutters were
accordingly lowered to take hawsers to the barque. On the sheet-anchor
being weighed, it came up without resistance. Both flukes had been
carried away. The only hope of safety depended on the remaining anchor
and cable holding till sail could be made. In vain the boats attempted
to carry the hawsers to the barque. A strong current sent them to
leeward, and they were accordingly ordered again on board. Happily, at
this moment the wind veered a point to the east. There is no necessity
to tell the men to be sharp. The order to make sail is given. The crew
swarm aloft; the soldiers, under proper guidance, are stationed at the
halliards, and the tacks and sheets. The cable is slipped,
single-reefed topsails, courses, topgallant sails, jibs, and driver set.
Few among even the brave seamen who do not hold their breath and offer
up a silent prayer that the ship may cast the right way. Hurra! round
she comes. The sails fill. She moves through the water. The boats
with the hawser get alongside and are hoisted up, and the old "Ranger"
stands out towards the open sea. Is there a soul on board so dull and
ungrateful as not to return fervent thanks to a gracious superintending
God for deliverance from the imminent danger in which they have been
placed?
As the ship drew off the land, the rollers were seen coming in with
increased strength and size, and it was very evident that, had she not
got under weigh at the time she did, she would have been dashed to
pieces in the course, probably, of another short hour, and few of the
soldiers and crew would have escaped. [Note 1.]
"I tell you what, boys," said Mrs Rumbelow, "you will have to go
through a good many dangers in the course of your lives may be, but
never will you have a narrower escape than this. I was just now
thinking where we all should be to-morrow, and wishing I could be
certain that we should all meet together in heaven. Not that I think
any one of us have a right to go there for any good we have ever done;
only I wish you boys to recollect, when you are rapping out oaths and
talking as you should not talk, that at any moment you may be called
away out of this world; and just let me ask you if you think that you
are fit to enter the only place a wise person would wish to live in for
ever and ever?"
Mrs Rumbelow was not very lucid, it may be, in her theology, but she
was very earnest, and the regiment benefited more than some might be
ready to allow by her sayings and doings too. Things might have been
much worse had it not been for her.
It being found impossible to land the troops, the "Ranger" returned to
Simon's Bay, where she was detained some time longer in replacing the
anchors and cables she had lost. Captain Newcombe was exonerated for
not carrying out his directions, seeing it was impossible to do so. A
little army of regulars and volunteers was despatched from another
station for the relief of the hard-pressed garrison, and arrived just as
their last cartridge and last biscuit had been expended. Other troops
also coming out from England, the "Ranger" proceeded towards her
previous destination.
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Note 1. In 1846 H.M.S. "Apollo" was placed under exactly the
circumstances described. It was in this locality, also, that the
"Birkenhead" troop-ship was lost.