I am not what you may term an _old_ man, being a few months short of
sixty-five years, but though my years are totalling up considerably, my
spirits are light as a feather, and although fifty years have passed
away since the story I am about to tell you took place, the incidents
are as vivid in my memory as they were a month after their occurrence.
I was a youngster of fourteen or fifteen at the time I am about to
speak, and like most boys of that age had a liking for the sea,
especially as I dwelt in a great seaport where every one was in
some way or other connected with fish or ships, and where even the
schoolboys’ common expressions were flavoured with nautical terms.
My birthplace was Great Yarmouth, and at the time I left school in
1835, no one seemed to ask the question, which we so frequently hear
now, of “What are you going to do with your son?” because it seemed
predestined that the entrance of a boy into the world should be by way
of the high seas. Each boy at the age of fourteen or fifteen appeared
to look forward intuitively to the time when he should make his first
voyage, or join one of the great herring fleets which annually leave
Yarmouth in August; and he knew also that his maiden experience was
merely a test, to ascertain for what particular division of toilsome
nautical life he was most fitted.
Some liked the sea and its thrilling dangers, and stuck to it through
fair weather and foul, working their way upward, till in a very few
years they became mate, skipper, and presently part owner of the smack
or lugger they commanded. Others preferred shore life; the sea was too
coy a mistress for them to woo; and they were accordingly apprenticed
to sail or mast-makers, shipwrights, smiths, netmakers, or something
of the kind connected with shipping. Others again would volunteer for
service in Her Majesty’s Navy, being taken with the trim appearance of
the young fellows who had preceded them in that branch of the nautical
life, and came home on leave, to show off their little horde of gold
saved from their first cruise money.
Yet another set there were who, disdaining the toil of a fisher’s
life, the subordination of the navy, or of being always ashore at some
trade, chose the freer life which was led by those who were apprenticed
to the coasting or mercantile trade.
On leaving school I determined to see about me a little, and
accordingly cast in my lot with the latter group, and was in due course
enrolled as an apprentice on the books of _The Ladybird_, a smart
little trading brig, belonging to Yarmouth.
My father at the time kept an inn called the “Jolly Waggoner,” just
out of the town, on the Caister Road, and as it was early spring, the
various caravans were moving from their winter quarters, and their
owners painting and gilding up their properties ready for the round
of the fairs, which in Norfolk commence in the spring and run right
through the months, till Christmas and heavy snows put a stop to them
for the year.
At the side of the “Jolly Waggoner” was a large piece of spare
ground, upon which might frequently be seen four or five caravans
being repaired and painted; my father uniting in his own person the
businesses of painter, publican, carpenter, and smith; so that with one
thing and another he made a very fair living in a quiet way.
Well, a couple of days before _The Ladybird_ was to sail with a general
cargo to the Faroe Isles, the skipper, towards evening, came down to
my father’s house to settle about my premium money, and to give me an
opportunity of signing my indentures.
Captain Cooper, that was his name, was a jolly, genial man, full of fun
and merriment, and had the name for being a most able seaman; and as
he was part owner of the vessel, my father had no doubt that I should
be in good and safe hands. They were old schoolmates and life-long
friends, so, as Captain Cooper remarked, it would only be leaving one
father on shore to serve under another at sea--a kind of nautical
foster-father.
I was delighted when the indenture was pushed across the table to
receive my signature, and though I made a big blot to start with, I
afterwards signed my name very well, which was more than I could say
for either of my two fathers, for their hands were so stiff, and the
pen so scratchy, that they made very laborious work of it. The captain
wrote his name as much with his jaws as with his pen, for sticking his
tongue into his cheek, he elongated and rolled his lower jaw in a most
curious manner, apparently forming each letter with the tip of his
tongue on the inside of his cheek, and then simultaneously scrawling in
the same slow manner with the quill pen on the parchment before him.
My father signed with a big cross, so his task was soon over, but
still not before he had made the pen give a big splutter, just as a
sea-rocket does when it touches the water, and the ink flew in spray
from bottom to top of the important document.
By the time the witnesses had signed their names, and spattered their
share of ink over the indenture, the whole thing was highly decorated,
and looked for all the world like a map of some large city, showing by
black dots the positions of the various places of interest.
After such a Herculean task, much refreshment was required, supplied,
and in due course consumed.
I can fancy myself now sitting in the cosy bar-parlour--though it is
fifty years ago--listening to the wonderful yarns spun by Captain
Cooper; yarns which appeared to me to become more astounding as he
warmed up with the many and various liquids he imbibed.
Then I recollect a startling occurrence which happened in the midst
of the story-telling; it was the entrance of a travelling showman,
who wished to know if he could put up at our house for the night, as
he wanted some repairs done to his caravan next day. He was of medium
height, stoutish and florid, just the type of person one would expect
to be connected with the show business. He was a perfect stranger to
my father, but as there was work to be done for him in the morning, my
father bade him take his caravan upon the green, and after he and the
ostler had fixed up all for the night, come and have a comfortable pipe
and chat with us.
Jim, our ostler, accompanied the showman, and having stabled the
horse for the night, and put the van into a good berth, the showman
rejoined us. He proved to be a capital story-teller, as are most of his
profession. His tales, if anything, were more wonderful than Captain
Cooper’s; anyway, I never heard such stories as they told one against
the other, and I do not doubt that if I had glanced at myself in the
looking-glass, my eyes would have resembled small china tea-saucers. My
father did not call them stories, he used a harsher but shorter word;
but I, in my verdancy, imagining they _might_ be true, gave them the
benefit of the doubt, and swallowed them like so many sugar-plums.
Now the thing that fixes this scene so vividly on my memory was, that
while these men were so busy racking their brains for the toughest
yarns, the half-door leading into the bar was suddenly opened, and the
space filled with the huge form of a man, who inquired, in no amiable
strain, if the showman were going to sit there all night, and leave him
without so much as a quart to moisten his lips with.
The ceiling of the bar-parlour was certainly not lofty, being barely
seven feet from the floor, but to my surprise, and I might also add
horror, when the man pushed open the half-door and entered the room
he could not stand upright, so gigantic was his stature. His entrance
created quite a commotion among those present, but the showman soon
smoothed matters by ordering a gallon of ale, and telling us that our
visitor was a giant with whom he was travelling round the country for
exhibition purposes.
I had never seen a giant before, and he quite frightened me when he
planted himself right beside me on the settle. I rose to find fresh
quarters, not quite so close to such an uncanny monster, but he pulled
me back and sat me on his knee, just as if I had been a four-year-old
child, instead of a good-sized lad of fifteen.
His hands and feet were enormous, and when I shook hands with him at
his request, my decent-sized fist looked like a baby’s in his huge
paw. He was not only tall, but he was large-framed, and well built
in every way; a man of enormous strength, and, as I soon found, of
prodigious appetite. He had, so the showman informed us, just been
captured from the plough in Yorkshire, and the showman was taking him
round, and paying him double as much as he could earn by his work as
an agricultural labourer. The giant liked the nomadic life, and the
princely sum of eighteen shillings a week made him something of a
Crœsus compared with other working men.
Somehow I could not take to the man, although he seemed to show a
great partiality for me; he was rough, coarse of speech, and of a
pugnacious temperament; but, except for one or two little bickerings, a
very pleasant evening was spent, and the showman, who was in his cups,
insisted upon seeing Captain Cooper back to the ship, as the Captain
could not steer straight; in fact, he could scarce make headway at all,
as his legs would cross and keep tripping him up. The end of it was
that the showman’s horse was brought out, the Captain strapped on his
back, and the showman hoisted up behind, to navigate the steed to the
quay. Jim the ostler followed quietly behind on foot, and returned an
hour later with the horse, informing my father that he had left both
skipper and showman fast asleep on the cabin floor.
Then we went to bed, and saw no more of the tipsy showman till ten
o’clock next morning, when he turned up at the “Jolly Waggoner” looking
very seedy.
Well, now having introduced my _dramatis personæ_, I must say a few
words concerning the ship, the lively little _Ladybird_. She was a trim
little oak-built brig of some 200 tons, well found in gear and stores,
and carried beside the skipper, a mate, three hands, and a cook, to
which please add your humble servant as articled apprentice. Our cargo
was a very miscellaneous one, and consisted principally of barreled
beef and pork, cloth, linen, beer, spirits, hardware and cutlery, for
we were bound on a trading expedition to the Faroe Islands, where
we were to take in a cargo of salt-fish, bird-skins, fur, guano,
seal-skins, oil, etc., in exchange for the goods we were taking out, as
very little ready money is in circulation in those out-of-the-way isles.
The skipper did not expect to be gone more than two months, as the
distance from Yarmouth to the Faroes is not more than a thousand miles,
inclusive of touching at the Orkneys and Shetland _en route_; so
when I bade my father farewell on the quay, I anticipated being back
for my birthday on the 10th of June, but my case was only one more
exemplification of the adage, “Man proposes, but God disposes,” as will
be seen.
I was in a great flutter of excitement when the hour of departure
really _did_ arrive, which was not till near noon instead of eight
sharp, as the skipper had announced. I was like a monkey just escaped
from its cage, here, there, and everywhere; and when we dropped down
the river to the harbour’s mouth, on the very last of the ebb, I can
recollect how I scrambled aloft when the order was given to loosen and
hoist sail. I did not know what to do certainly, but I watched the
others, and worked away till my fingers, arms, aye and every limb ached
again--but I was supremely happy until _mal-de-mer_ overtook me, and
then I went below and turned into my berth.
A couple of days found me all alive again, and on deck as merry as a
cricket. We were now off Aberdeen, quietly drawing along under all
sail, and everything going as merry as a marriage bell.
As night began to close in around us we had Peterhead (the chief
whaling port) right on our port beam, and that gave Captain Cooper an
opportunity to tell some of his yarns about the whaling cruises he had
participated in when a young man in the Greenland seas.
After dark, being past Kinnard’s Head, near Frazerburgh, we had the
great gulf between Aberdeenshire and Caithness on our port beam, and
were quite out of sight of land. The wind, which had been lazy all the
day, now began to freshen and back a little to the south of west,
which was very favourable for our sailing. Seeing this the captain
made up his mind not to call in at Kirkwall, the chief town in the
Orkneys, but to leave it for the homeward voyage, and take advantage
of the favouring breeze to push on to Lerwick in the Shetland Isles.
His orders before turning in were consequently given to the mate to be
carried out, unless a change of wind should occur, in which case the
skipper was to be called.
Having got over my sea-sickness and found my sea-legs, the day appeared
too short for me, so I agreed with the cabin-boy, Joey Nicholls, that
we would not turn in till the end of the first watch (midnight), but
stay on deck and enjoy the beautiful evening, for it was a lovely mild
moonlight night. My own watch was the second dog-watch, which is over
at eight p.m., so Joey and I had laid ourselves out for a further four
hours’ fun before turning in.
For a long time we chatted with old Bunks, whose turn at the wheel it
was, and then getting tired of him, we took off our shoes and skylarked
about in the beautiful moonlight. We set each other various tricks
to perform, at which we found we were about equal; but presently
Joey, whose turn it was to set the next task, ascended to the mizzen
cross-trees, and sat there for two or three minutes, when he came down
and dared me to do the same feat. It was a simple task enough, but it
must be remembered I had only had two or three days on the sea, and had
hardly overcome my nervousness in going aloft even in the daytime, and
to ascend at night when the moon throws such black shadows from the
sails, was quite trial enough for me.
However, I essayed it, and arrived safely at the cross-trees, upon
which I perched myself in a very gingerly manner, for fear (in my
ignorance) that my weight might cause them to break. I sat and looked
upon the heaving waters around, and was endeavouring to summon courage
to look on deck from my dizzy height, when I heard a thud and a cry of
pain below me, and involuntarily glancing down, I saw the mate strike
Bunks, who was hanging to the spokes of the wheel. As I looked another
blow descended, and then breaking the unfortunate man’s hold from the
spokes, I saw the mate deliberately pitch him over the taffrail into
the white wake of the _Ladybird_, where he seemed to float a minute and
then disappear.
Almost simultaneously I saw a strange man seize poor Joey, struggle
with him to the bulwarks and throw him overboard. Joey could swim, and
I could hear his shrieks for several minutes, as he vainly struck out
after the brig, which was making three feet to his one.
I could not recognize the assailant of my poor chum; but when I looked
under the foot of one of the sails, I beheld, to my horror, the
herculean form of the giant I had left a few days before at my father’s
inn, the “Jolly Waggoner.” I could scarcely believe my eyes, but a form
like the one beneath me on the deck was such as one sees scarcely in a
lifetime, and when once seen cannot readily be forgotten.
My heart beat quickly, and I trembled so violently that I could with
difficulty retain my hold of the ropes to prevent myself from falling
to the deck. I could not keep my eyes off the figures beneath me, and
in the bright moonlight could detect their every movement. I saw the
showman go to the wheel and pull his coat-collar up and his cap-peak
down, and the giant hide himself behind the cook’s galley, which stood
amidships.
Then the mate went to the fo’castle scuttle and bawled out, “All hands
tumble up, man overboard; shorten sail--be alive there--don’t stop to
shave,” and the usual patter for suddenly turning up a crew, and in a
twinkling up came the three men from their berths, rubbing the sleep
out of their eyes with their knuckles.
“Here, lads,” said the mate, pointing to the boat which was hanging
from the davits, “jump in and lower away. Old Bunks is in the water
astern. Look alive now!”
They stepped up to the boat and began to right side her, when out
from his lurking-place behind the galley sprang the giant, and in a
trice, with a heavy cudgel, he knocked the three poor fellows down like
ninepins, and before they could recover, picked them up one by one like
bags of chaff, and tossed them over the bulwarks into the silent sea.
At this sight my senses nearly forsook me; but clasping the mizzen
top-mast convulsively I hung on, cogitating what to do, and deciding
that if either of the three fiends below should attempt to ascend the
shrouds to take me, I would save them the commission of another murder
by precipitating myself on the hard deck below, thus hoping to kill
myself instantaneously.
They descended into the fo’castle, looked into the cook’s galley and
under the boat to try and discover me, and I heard them mention my name
several times, coupled with most awful threats and voluble profanity.
They did not appear to think of looking aloft for me; but as I pressed
my body to the mast I was afraid, so great was my agitation, and
knowing wood to be such a splendid conductor of sound, that they might
hear the violent throbbing of my heart as they passed the foot of the
mast. It was a foolish idea, but at the time I quite believed it beat
with noise enough to betray me.
After another search the mate, with an oath, exclaimed, “Leave the
---- till the morning; we can scrag him then just as well as now. Come
below, lads, and have a drink, for I think we’ve finished our job in a
very neat fashion!”
They all went down into the little cabin, which contained two berths,
one for the captain and the other for the dastardly mate. The
skylight being a little open I could hear them talking, but could not
distinguish what they said; and I could also hear the clinking of
glasses and the drawing of corks.
But what of Captain Cooper? So far I had neither heard nor seen him.
Was he dead, or what had become of him?