employments; but on the evening of the fourth, after he had folded his
sheep, he returned home, expecting to see aunt Rachel busy in preparing
the milk-porridge for their supper, and Phoebe watering the flowers,
or gathering salad in the garden. Phoebe was not there. He lifted the
latch of the door; his cousin was laying the cloth, and aunt Rachel was
roasting a fowl for supper. In the chimney-corner, and in his
grandfather's high-backed chair, sat his father. Walter Ridley's stern
features were softened by an expression of grief; he looked more kindly
on his son than he had ever done before; and Arthur thought that when
time had whitened his thick black hair, and dimmed the fire of his dark
eyes, he would resemble in person his lamented grandfather.
Captain Ridley was very kind to his sister-in-law and niece; and when
Arthur told him the last request of his father, he patted Phoebe's
curly head, and said:
"Never fear, pretty one, I'll take care of you and your mother; you
shall never want for a shilling, whilst Wat Ridley has one, if it's only
for the sake of poor brother Hugh. Your uncle Hugh was a brave fellow,
Arthur! I wish I could see some of his manly spirit in you, boy!--So,
sister Rachel, you shall live in the farm, and look after the kine and
sheep, and live as comfortably as you can. If you have a shiner or two
over and above at the end of the year for me, it's all very well; and if
you have not, I shan't complain; so don't starve your little one here.
And when Arthur and I come back, after roving the salt waters for five
or six years, mayhap we may stay at home for good; that is, if Phoebe
should like the lad for a husband, and he should fancy her."
Rachel thanked her brother-in-law for his kindness towards her and her
child; but Arthur, though much pleased with his father's intentions in
respect to his cousin, did not like what he said about the sea.
"Are you determined that I shall be a sailor?" he asked, in a
disconsolate voice.
"Hark'e, boy," said Captain Ridley; "I am determined to make a man of
you. So don't let's have any puling and muling, but pluck up a good
heart: and if you be a coward, don't show it. I have bought a good tight
ship at Hamburgh, and have laid out all my earnings for these twenty
years, that I may be owner of the vessel I sail in; she is freighted
with a valuable cargo, and will soon sail for Norway; and you are to
have a berth in her: so say no more, for I have made up my mind on the
matter."
Arthur submitted in silence; for he well remembered the last words of
his grandfather, and made up his mind to obey his father, let his will
be what it would; besides, he was very grateful for the kindness shown
to his aunt and cousin. "I shall leave them in the bosom of our peaceful
home," thought he; "so I must not displease my father, for he must have
a good heart to be so kind to them."
In two days, Captain Ridley declared his intention of being off, as he
called it. In vain Rachel and Phoebe pleaded for time to make Arthur
some new shirts, and pack up different things that he would want during
a sea-voyage.
"No, no," said Captain Ridley; "the boy has been made too much of a pet
and cosset already. I shall fit him out with check-shirts and blue
jackets at Newcastle. I'll make a brave fellow of him, I warrant you.
There's been too many parsons and farmers among the Ridleys. Nobody
would believe they came of the same bold fellows who used to ride the
border some three hundred years ago. Who ever heard of a boy making a
brave, manly character, who spent his time lounging at the tails of two
or three kine or sheep? So, Arthur, my boy, your aunt and cousin will
find you quite a different sort of a lad when you come home from your
first voyage."
The next morning Arthur bade adieu, with a heavy heart, to the home he
loved so much; and kissed his good aunt and the weeping Phoebe, with
tears in his eyes; but he durst not cry, for fear of bringing on himself
the rough taunts of his father. Captain Ridley had been to the village
church-yard that morning, to visit the new-made grave of his father; he
there remembered that he had not always been the most dutiful of sons to
him who now slept beneath the green turf; and he felt half inclined to
fulfil what he knew was his departed father's wish, and suffer Arthur to
remain at home and look after the farm: but then he thought again, that
when he grew old, and left off going to sea, and came to live at home,
there would be no one to talk to him of seafaring matters: so he
hardened his heart against the tears and entreaties of Phoebe and her
mother, and took Arthur to Newcastle, where his ship, the Aurora, lay in
harbour, ready to sail.
Arthur found this new mode of life even more disagreeable than he had
imagined; however, he made a resolution to go through all that was
required of him with uncomplaining patience, and to shrink from none of
the hardships of his situation. Neither his father nor any of the crew
were disposed to lighten his difficulties; all were on the watch to jeer
at the mistakes of the young landsman; not but they were a little
surprised to see him go through the first seasoning of a seafaring life
with so much spirit. The sailors, naturally generous and frank, in a
little time began to look on him with more favourable eyes, particularly
an old friend of his father's, who sailed in the Aurora as mate.
"Well, Captain," said he one day, as he saw Arthur aloft, and going
through his duties with great adroitness, "what do you think of our
young seaman now? To my mind, he will turn out as brave a fellow as ever
stepped between stem and stern."
"He is better than might be expected from his breeding," returned
Captain Ridley: "but I doubt he will turn out a sad chicken-hearted
thing in time of danger."
"We shall see," said the mate: "but if young Arthur don't show more
spirit than many of those who talk big and bluster, never believe a word
that old Jack Travers says to you again."
"Well, well, old shipmate, I wish it may be as you say; but, I own, I
have not such good hopes of him."
Arthur soon found a good friend in Jack Travers, who was determined that
he should not disgrace his predictions. During their voyage to Norway,
he taught Arthur to keep the log-book, to take the sun's meridian
altitude, to navigate the ship, and to perform the duties of a complete
seaman.
Travers had spent the chief part of his life at sea, and had seen and
suffered much. He had twice lost his all by shipwreck, and had once been
taken prisoner by the French; he had of course seen a great deal of the
world, and had made many intelligent observations on the countries where
fortune had thrown him; and was intimately acquainted with the customs
and manners of the people whose shores they were now approaching.
One summer night, when Arthur and Travers were on the watch together,
Travers began to tell him of all he had suffered by storm and wreck, in
the course of a long and disastrous life. "The last ship I sailed in,"
said he, "the unfortunate Daedalus, was wrecked on one of the small
islands that stud the coast of Norway, off Drontheim. Now, there was no
very good understanding between the English and the subjects of the King
of Denmark, because of the battle of Copenhagen, the carnage of which
was so great as to occasion general mourning and sorrow throughout
Denmark and Norway. However, the brave Norwegians did not look upon us
in the light of enemies, but as suffering and shipwrecked men, and
treated us most kindly during the time we remained with them; which was
more than three of their winter months. A merchant of Drontheim gave me
a berth in a ship of his, that was bound to Hamburgh; and there I met
with your father, Arthur, who never was yet the man to see an old
shipmate in distress without giving a helping hand. He offered to put me
as mate in the Aurora, which he had just purchased. So here I am; but
whether my bad fortune will pursue me still, I know not."
"I hope not," said Arthur; "for it is hard, at your time of life, to be
without the means of obtaining those comforts you will soon greatly
need: but did you not spend your time very miserably, to pass so many
months in a strange country, the language of which was unknown to you?"
"As for that," returned Travers, "thank God! I am not given to be very
miserable anywhere. A seaman, who knows his duty, bears cheerfully
whatever hap Heaven may send him. But in fact, I never passed any time
pleasanter than I did in Norway. We were quartered on the farmers and
pilots who inhabited the coast where we were thrown. The good people,
instead of murmuring at the burden of our maintenance, came down with
their sledges, and contended whose home should afford shelter to the
shipwrecked strangers. I was not willing to eat the bread of idleness,
so I lent a helping hand to whatever work was going forward. As to
language, I found the inhabitants of the sea-coast very familiar with
the English tongue; and I knew a little German, by reason of trading to
Hamburgh; so, between the two, we made out very well. The coast of
Norway is tremendous to the sailor at the fall of the year, when the
equinoctial winds begin to blow; as you will judge when I tell you the
observations I have made during my acquaintance with it. The coast
extending upwards of three hundred leagues, is beset with a multitude of
small islands, affording habitations to fishermen and pilots, and
pasture to a few cattle. They form an infinite number of narrow
channels, and a natural barrier of rocks, which render Norway
inaccessible to the naval power of its enemies. Attempts of this kind
are the more dangerous, as the shore is generally bold, steep, and
impending; so that, close to the rocks, the depth of the sea amounts to
one hundred, two hundred, and even three hundred fathoms. You may easily
judge of the fate of the unfortunate ship that is hurled by tempests
against any of these frightful rocks: if she breaks, she instantly
fills, and must go down into a dreadful depth of water; and it is only
by the most signal mercy that any of the crew is ever saved. The perils
of the North Sea are also increased by sudden streams, sunk rocks,
violent currents, and dreadful whirlpools. The most remarkable vortex on
the coast is called Moskoestrom, from the small island Moskoe,
belonging to the district Lofoden. In time of flood, the stream runs up
between Lofoden and Moskoe, with the most boisterous rapidity; but in
its ebb to the sea it roars like a hundred cataracts, so as to be heard
at the distance of many leagues. On the surface are many vortices; and
if in one of those any ship be absorbed, it is whirled down to the
bottom, and dashed in pieces against the rocks.
"When its fury has been heightened by a storm, no vessel ought to
venture within a league of it. Whales are frequently absorbed within the
vortex, and howl and bellow hideously during their fruitless endeavours
to free themselves. A bear, in attempting to swim from Lofoden to
Moskoe, was once hurried to this whirlpool, from which he struggled in
vain for deliverance, roaring so loud as to be heard on shore; but,
notwithstanding all his efforts, he was borne down and destroyed. Large
trees, being drawn into the current, are sucked down, and rise again all
shattered to splinters. There are three vortices of the same kind near
the islands of Ferroe."
Before the vessel reached Christiania, the short northern summer had
commenced in all its beauty. Arthur had expected to see an icy, desolate
coast; he could not think that fair sunny days would smile so far
northwards; and when the Aurora entered the bay of Christiana, he could
scarcely believe it was the port to which they were bound.
Before them lay the town of Christiana, situated at the extremity of an
extensive and fertile valley, forming a semicircular bend along the
shore of the beautiful bay. The grounds, laid out in rich enclosures,
gradually sloped to the sea. Behind, before, and around appeared the
inland mountains of Norway, covered with dark forests of pines and fir,
the inexhaustible riches of the North. The most distant summits were
capped with perpetual snows. From the glow of the atmosphere, the warmth
of the weather, the variety of the productions, and the mild beauties of
the adjacent scenery, it was hardly possible to believe that they were
nearly under the sixtieth degree of latitude.[8]
[Footnote 8: Cox's Travels.]
"Is it possible?" said Arthur, as he stood on deck by the side of
Travers; "can this blooming land be one of the coldest and most barren
regions of the North?"
"Ah," said Travers; "but you see it in the midst of its short, lovely
summer; its aspect would be bleak and horrid, were you to visit it
during the nine winter months. Were you to hear the roaring of the winds
among the mountains, the fall of great heaps of snow, and oftentimes of
huge masses of stone and rocks from their heights--sometimes choking up
the course of rivers, and overwhelming the cottages of the peasants--you
would then hardly believe that the return of the sun could produce so
much beauty as you now see before you."
"I have heard," said Arthur, "that, farther to the North, the sun never
sets in the height of summer, nor rises in the depth of winter."
"I have been at Tronsen,"[9] said Travers, "near the northern extremity
of this country, where the sun is continually in view at midsummer; I
have seen it circulate day and night round the North Pole, contracting
its orbit, and then gradually enlarging it, until it leaves the horizon.
In the depth of the winter, therefore, it is for some weeks invisible:
and all the light perceived at noon is a faint glimmering, for about one
hour and a half, which proceeds from the sun's rays being reflected from
the highest mountains. But the inhabitants have other lights, by which
they follow their work in the open air. The sky being very clear, the
moonshine is remarkably bright: they are likewise much assisted by the
Northern Lights,[10] which are very frequent in these parts of Europe."
[Footnote 9: Encyclopaedia Britannica.]
[Footnote 10: Otherwise called Aurora Borealis.]
"My grandfather showed me the Northern Lights once, in Cumberland," said
Arthur; "and told me they signified that something very dreadful would
soon happen to the country; for they were never seen but when famine, or
plagues or rebellions were about to come to pass. What do you think
about it, Travers? are such bad things very common in Norway?"
"Not that ever I heard," returned Travers. "Indeed, the poor people
would be in a desperate way, if they were to have plagues and battles
every time they saw the Northern Lights. Why, Arthur, they see them as
often as we see the stars in England; and I have read, on a Sunday
night, the psalm for the day out of my prayer-book, as plain in the open
air, at ten o'clock, as ever I did by a candle. But that's the way with
you landsmen: you sit at home and scare yourselves, and shake your wise
heads, and prophesy evil, if a little glimmer reaches you of what is as
common as the air you breathe in other countries."
Arthur did not greatly approve of hearing the opinion of his venerated
grandfather treated with so much contempt: yet he plainly saw the folly
of converting into an omen of ill a harmless and beautiful meteor; which
is a blessing, as common as it is useful, in a country a few degrees
farther to the north.
Captain Ridley soon became very busy in disposing of his cargo, and
buying the different commodities that Norway produces, to reload his
vessel with. He bought copper, and iron forged into bars, (the iron of
Sweden and Norway is esteemed very good--much better than any England
produces;) marble he used for ballasting the ship; he likewise bought
goat-skins, and seal-skins, and some very valuable furs of the fox and
marten, of which he expected to make a great deal of money in England.
Another article of commerce, which is sold to great advantage in
England, Captain Ridley made part of his cargo, viz. eider-down
feathers.[11] He gave his son leave to purchase what pleased him most,
to take home as presents for his aunt and cousin. Arthur accordingly
bought a handsome fur cloak for aunt Rachel, and some curious baskets
made of birch-bark, and beautifully wrought with coloured quills, for
Phoebe. They passed about two months in Norway: by the expiration of
which time Captain Ridley had completed his lading, and got everything
ready for returning to England.
[Footnote 11: The mollissima, or eider-duck, is double the size of the
common duck. The feathers, which are soft and valuable, fall off during
incubation. The male is white above, but black below and behind; the
female is greenish. This species is found in the Western Isles of
Scotland, but in greater numbers in Norway, Iceland, and Greenland; from
whence vast quantities of the down, known by the name of _eider_, or
_edder_, (which these birds furnish,) is annually imported. Its warm,
light, and elastic qualities, make it highly esteemed as stuffings for
coverlets and down beds. This down is produced from the breast of the
birds, in the breeding season. The eider-duck lays its eggs among the
stones or plants near the shore, and prepares a soft bed for them by
plucking the down from its own breast; the natives watch the
opportunity, and take away both eggs and nest. The duck lays again, and
repeats the plucking of its breast. If she is robbed after that, she
will still lay; but the drakes must supply the down, as her stock is now
exhausted: but, if her eggs are taken from her a fourth time, she wholly
deserts the place. The number of eggs in each nest are from three to
five, warmly bedded in down; they are of a pale olive colour, and very
large, glossy, and smooth. The ducks now and then, however, lay as many
as eight, for sixteen have been found in one nest, with two females
sitting on them, who agree remarkably well together. They take their
young on their backs to sea; then dive to shake them off, and teach them
to shift for themselves. They live on shell-fish, for which they dive to
great depths. The males are five years old before they come to their
full colours. It is said they live to a great age, and grow quite
grey.]
Arthur's heart bounded with joy as the sails were set for England; and
he now looked forward with sensations of pleasure towards the
continuance of the life which his father had chosen for him. He had
gained experience and knowledge, and felt happy that he had obeyed his
parent, however distasteful his commands were at first. Captain Ridley
was very proud of his ship; her clever sailing and tight figure were the
perpetual theme of his discourse and admiration: he was, besides, in
excellent spirits on another account; for he felt confident that he had
laid out his money to great advantage in the cargo, and expected a clear
profit of several hundreds.
They ran before a favourable gale for some days, till, one clear lovely
morning, as Captain Ridley was standing on deck talking over his
expected gains with Arthur, Travers called from the main-top, "Look
abaft, Captain; for I think we are chased?" Ridley flew to his cabin,
and returning with his telescope, plainly saw a ship bearing down before
the wind, in full pursuit of them. All hands instantly went to work, to
raise every bit of canvas the Aurora could carry; and as she was a
swift-sailing vessel, they had hopes that she would keep ahead of the
enemy until night came on, when she might elude the pursuit under the
shades of darkness. But, alas! the same gale which bore the Aurora so
bravely along, brought her lightly-laden pursuer more swiftly after her.
At length, after a hard chase, and a day of the most agonizing suspense
to our poor countrymen, about sunset their fate seemed decided, when the
adverse ship bore down upon them within hail, and fired a gun to bring
them to. The crew of the Aurora still ventured to hope that, after all,
she might be a neutral ship; but the experienced eye of Travers had from
the first noted all her bearings, and felt convinced that she was a
French privateer; which was soon confirmed by her hoisting the
tri-coloured flag, and preparing to board. To resist was utterly
useless, as a single broadside from the armed ship would have soon
settled the fray: and Captain Ridley saw his favourite ship the prey of
the most lawless and insolent crew that ever manned a privateer!
To a man of Ridley's violent passions, this stroke was worse than death;
but his indignant expressions were only answered by laughter and mockery
from the enemies into whose hands he had fallen, and who added insult
and ill-usage to the calamities of war. It was at that period of the
French Revolution when the war was carried on between the two nations
with a fury scarcely known in modern times, and the animosity of the
French towards our country knew no bounds.
There could scarcely be a more dreadful situation than that of the crew
of this defenceless merchant ship, which had fallen into the hands of
men whose bad passions were inflamed by national hatred. For many hours,
the English expected every moment to be their last. Outrage succeeded
outrage, and massacre seemed resolved on; but at last, after many blows
and much reviling, the privateers contented themselves with thrusting
their prisoners, strongly ironed, into the hold. These were horrors of
which poor Arthur had never even dreamed; yet, in the terrors of that
dreadful night, there was a satisfaction to his well-regulated mind in
the consciousness that he was near his suffering parent, and could
offer all the consolation that can be received from the affection of a
dutiful child. And, truly, Captain Ridley had great need of it.
Neglected by the ruffians who had conquered them, they were left without
food; and, what was infinitely more needful, without water. This, joined
to want of air, (the hatches being close shut down,) made their
situation almost equal to that of the prisoners in the black hole at
Calcutta.
Walter Ridley had hitherto been a fortunate man in life: where others
had met with storms and capture, he had sailed securely and
prosperously. This he did not fail to attribute to his own wisdom and
merit, instead of ascribing it to the protecting hand of a bountiful
Providence; therefore, when this reverse of fortune came, he received it
with transports of rage, instead of patience and resignation. The
violence of his emotions, and the confinement and ill usage he
underwent, had such an effect on his frame, that, long before the
morning, he was attacked by a dangerous illness. Poor Arthur sat by him,
holding his burning hands, and offering his bosom as a pillow to his
aching head; nor could the wild and frantic exclamations, uttered in the
delirium of fever, affright the affectionate boy from the side of his
suffering father.
The next day had nearly passed, before the captors thought fit to take
any notice of their prisoners; they then resolved to divide the English
crew; for as the captain of the French privateer determined to cruise in
search of fresh prey, he did not choose to encumber himself with his
prize.