“A YANKEE SHIP AND A YANKEE CREW.”
Mr. Frisbone and his wife and Miss Rodwood were none the worse for the
benevolent service they had rendered on board of the Castle William.
The small-pox patients, as stated before, had been separated by the
mate from the rest of the people in the forward part of the vessel.
The sanitary measures devised by Mrs. Frisbone, and carried out by her
husband, had wrought a wonderful change on board; and, when the vessel
arrived at Portsmouth, the condition of the sick had greatly improved.
The quarantine regulations were relaxed as much as possible in favor of
the devoted nurses; but the ladies, who had been more exposed than the
Prince, were not permitted to leave the limits of the hospital for a
few days.
As soon as the Ville d’Angers anchored in the harbor of Portsmouth,
Gregory sent a message by the steward, that he wished to see the
captain. As soon as O’Hara had leisure to attend to the matter, he
requested Shakings to bring his prisoners into the cabin, hoping they
had repented of the folly which had induced them to “stand out,” as
they expressed it. The boatswain promptly produced the mutineers, and,
touching his cap, was about to retire; but O’Hara desired him to
remain.
Gregory appeared, looking more defiant, if possible, than when he
was committed. For nearly a week he had been kept in his state-room.
The captain had offered to allow him and Clinch to take an airing on
the poop-deck every day for a couple of hours, under the eye of the
boatswain, who was not to permit them to speak to any of the ship’s
company; but both of them indignantly declined the proposition,--they
would not go on deck as prisoners.
“As I seem to be subject to your will and pleasure, O’Hara, I wish
to say that you have carried this thing about far enough,” said the
ex-first officer, when he came into the presence of the captain.
“That’s just my idea,” added Clinch, turning up his nose to express his
contempt for the young commander of the steamer.
“If you wish to see me in order to intimidate me, I have nothing
to say,” replied the captain, with dignity; but he was greatly
disappointed at the tone and manner of the mutineers.
“I think we were clearly in the right in refusing to do duty when you
were running away with the vessel,” continued Gregory.
“I do not care to argue the matter,” added O’Hara.
“I want to know who is right.”
“The principal will decide that in due time.”
“The principal is not here to decide any thing.”
“We can only wait till we see him.”
“I don’t intend to wait!” said Gregory angrily. “I shall go on shore.”
“At present the steamer is quarantined; and no one is allowed to leave
her,” answered O’Hara.
“That’s another scrape you’ve got us into!” blustered the rebel.
The captain made no reply to this taunt.
“There has been no show for the officers from the Josephine in this
steamer,” continued Gregory. “Mr. Shakings, I think you ought to see
fair play, at least, when an officer of your own ship is treated in
this way.”
“All the boatswain has to do is to obey the captain’s orders,” replied
Shakings; but he looked as though he had something else to say if the
occasion should require it.
“Come, Clinch, let’s go on shore,” said Gregory, beginning to move
towards the door.
“Mr. Shakings, these officers are still in your keeping,” added the
captain.
“There is no going on shore for any one in this vessel,” interposed the
stout forward officer, as he placed himself in front of the rebels.
“You will return to your rooms.”
“I won’t do it!” protested Gregory savagely, as he made a spring
towards the door.
“I think you will, my beauty,” added the boatswain, as he collared the
rebel, and dragged him to his room.
Without any ceremony, he shoved him into the apartment, and locked the
door upon him. Clinch had not the pluck to make a forcible resistance;
and he went to his room without the assistance of Shakings.
“I don’t see that I can do any thing else with Gregory and Clinch,”
said O’Hara, when the boatswain had secured his prisoners.
“I think you are using them very gently,” replied Shakings. “Mr.
Fluxion will keep them in the brig a month for this, and send them out
of the cabin with the lowest numbers in the ship.”
“I only wish to keep them from leading any of the other officers or
seamen away from their duty,” added O’Hara.
“There is not the least danger of that: every man from the Josephine
will stand by you to the end.”
As intimated in the newspaper the vice-principal had read at Funchal,
Mr. Frisbone was negotiating with the owners of the Castle William
for the settlement of the salvage; but little progress was made till
the discharge of the Prince from the quarantine, which was done at
the end of a week. The vessel and cargo were acknowledged to be worth
ten thousand pounds; and the Prince accepted one-half of this sum.
The owners of the Ville d’Angers were more exacting, and declined to
settle the claim. Proceedings had been instituted as soon as the vessel
arrived; and, a few days later, the court decreed that one-half of her
value should be paid by the owners to the salvors. The vessel was to be
sold at public vendue to determine her value; and the shrewd agent of
the owners was satisfied that a French craft, sold in an English port,
would bring but a mere song.
The Prince was discharged from quarantine in season to attend the
auction. The agent expected no competition in the bidding. His first
bid was four thousand pounds; then the Prince added another thousand,
and continued to increase upon the agent till the sum of thirteen
thousand pounds was reached; and then the first bidder had a cold
sweat, for his instructions allowed him to bid no more. The steamer was
struck off to the Prince for “a thousand better.”
The agent was confounded, and the Prince was in excellent humor. He had
to pay only a half of the purchase-money, for the other half belonged
to the salvors. But the agent had new instructions when it was too
late; and he offered the Prince another thousand, and then two and
three, for his bargain, but the buyer declined to sell.
“What do you want of that steamer?” asked Mrs. Frisbone, when he told
her what he had done.
“I think we will all go to Madeira in her,” replied Mr. Frisbone,
laughing. “I have been bothered to know what to do with the ship’s
company of the steamer; and this settles the question. Besides, the
vessel is worth more than I pay for her.”
The Prince hastened on board of the Ville d’Angers to inform the
officers what he had done, and to have her prepared for the voyage to
Funchal. Everybody on board was pleased with the result of the Prince’s
operations, unless it was the prisoners in their state-rooms.
The steamer was immediately hauled into the dock, her cargo taken out
of her, for that had been sold “on account of whom it might concern,”
and the proceeds had added over eight hundred pounds to the result of
the expedition to England. Then she ran up to Southampton, where she
coaled and took in a supply of provisions on the most liberal scale. By
the morning of the 21st, she was ready to sail; and not a moment was
lost in getting under way.
The French and Italian firemen had been discharged, and sent home by
the agent of the owners. Another set was employed for the voyage,
and two young English engineers were added to the force in the
engine-room. In fact, the vessel was fitted out as if she were to go
around the world. She had been ballasted so as to put her into the best
sailing-trim when the coal in her bunkers should be reduced.
The article in the newspaper had drawn considerable attention to the
steamer; and when she sailed there was quite a crowd to witness her
departure.
“Where are you bound, captain?” asked a young man, as O’Hara was about
to get into the boat which was waiting for him.
“To Funchal, in the island of Madeira,” replied the young captain,
hardly looking at the inquirer; for he had been tormented with
questions ever since he put his foot on the shore.
The person who asked the question was not more than twenty-two years of
age, and was accompanied by another young man about his own age. Both
of them were dressed in travelling suits of gray; and they appeared to
belong to the better class of English people.
“I beg your pardon for troubling you, captain,” persisted the inquirer.
“If I can be of any service to you, I shall be happy; but, upon my
sowl, I am in a hurry,” replied O’Hara pleasantly.
“It’s only a moment for another question. Could you by any possibility
take a couple of passengers along with you?”
“The steamer is not a passenger-vessel,” answered the captain.
“I am well aware of that; but it would be a great accommodation to us;
for you see we lost the last steamer to Funchal by a delay caused by a
railway accident.”
“I do not feel at liberty to take passengers; and I shall be obliged to
refer you to the agent of the principal, Mr. Frisbone,” added O’Hara.
“This gentleman is Sir Philip Grayner, baronet,” said the young man
with the applicant for a passage.
O’Hara thought he was rather young to be a baronet, but it was possible
to succeed to the title at an early age. But he was not particularly
impressed by the fact. The information had been imparted to him as
though it was confidential, and he made no use of it.
“Where can I find Mr. Frisbone?” asked the baronet, renewing the attack.
“He is on board of the steamer.”
“And how soon do you sail?”
“In the course of an hour.”
“Thank you, captain,” replied Sir Philip Grayner. “The gentleman with
me is Lord Fillgrove,” he added in a low tone.
“Another sprig of nobility,” thought O’Hara, as he descended to the
boat.
The well-trained crew gave way at the order of the coxswain, and the
cutter was soon alongside of the Ville d’Angers. The vessel was only
waiting for the pilot; but the time fixed for him to be on board had
not yet arrived. The cutter was hoisted up at the davits, and secured
for the voyage. The other cutter had not yet returned from the shore,
where she had gone with a party of the students who had liberty to
visit the city. Leave had been freely granted; and in no case had it
been abused, so far as the officers were aware. If any of the young men
had drank beer, or other dangerous fluids, their condition when they
returned did not indicate such indulgence.
About half an hour after the return of the captain, a boat containing
the two applicants for passage to Funchal, with their bags and luggage,
came alongside. The bringing of their baggage implied that they had a
strong expectation of obtaining what they desired. They were permitted
to come on board, and presented their application to the Prince.
“We are entirely willing to pay our passage,” said the baronet.
“By all means, we shall do that,” added the one with the lordly title.
“That is no particular object with us,” replied the Prince. “We should
not take you for the money you may pay.”
“We will at least pay for our diet and the wines we drink,” said Sir
Philip.
“We don’t sell rum on this steamer,” replied Mr. Frisbone, very
decidedly. “If you can’t get along without wine, I think you had better
take passage in some other vessel. We don’t furnish any thing to drink
for anybody; and, what’s more, we don’t allow any wine or liquor to be
used about the steamer.”
“That’s a matter of no consequence,” added Sir Philip, looking at
his companion, and giving him a sly wink when he was sure he was not
observed.
“We don’t care if we never have any thing in the shape of wine or
liquor,” the young lord agreed.
“What’s your name?” asked the Prince bluntly of the first speaker.
“This gentleman is Sir Philip Grayner,” said his lordship.
“And my friend is Lord Fillgrove,” added the baronet.
“Then you are dooks and lords,” continued Mr. Frisbone; but he seemed
to be pleased at the idea of meeting them.
“My friend is a viscount,” replied Sir Philip.
“And mine is a baronet,” said Lord Fillgrove.
“All right!” exclaimed Mr. Frisbone, in his usual loud tone. “I am an
American Prince myself.”
The Prince talked with Capt. O’Hara and with Capt. Fairfield about
the matter; and it was agreed that the passengers would be a pleasant
addition to the ship’s company. There were some spare state-rooms; for
the space between decks, called the “second cabin,” had been fitted up
for the crew, and it was a very light and airy place for them. They
preferred it to the main cabin; and it was more conducive to good
discipline to have the officers farther removed from the seamen.
Each of the passengers took his choice of the state-rooms not in use.
The Prince introduced them to his wife and her sister under their full
titles.
“This is a very unexpected pleasure, Prince Frisbone,” said Sir Philip.
“I was not aware that we were to have the pleasure of ladies’ society
on the voyage.”
“Prince Frisbone!” exclaimed the worthy machinist, laughing heartily.
“That sounds odd.”
“I beg your pardon; but I think you told me you were an American
Prince; and, as you did not dispute my title, I am not disposed to deny
your claim,” answered Sir Philip.
“I suppose your title is a little more regular than mine; but we won’t
quarrel about these trifles,” added the Prince. “This is now a ‘Yankee
ship and a Yankee crew;’ and I have an idea that one man is as good as
another on board of her.”
“No doubt of it; but I perceive that there is a great difference
between the officers and the seamen,” suggested Lord Fillgrove.
“Not a bit of difference. No. 24 is just as good as the captain,”
protested the American nobleman.
“But one commands, and the other obeys.”
“That’s true; but we don’t have any classes of citizens. The
day-laborer on town-meeting day is the equal of the man worth a million
that hires him; and any fellow before the mast in this vessel may be
captain of her the very next month. Here is Capt. O’Hara: when he was
at this port last, he was a seaman; and next month he may be a seaman
again.”
“I hope not,” said O’Hara, laughing. “But I heard that the principal
and the faculty were getting up a new way to fill the offices on board
of the vessels of the squadron; and some of us may slip up when it is
applied.”
“It’s all very democratic,” added Lord Fillgrove.
The coming of the pilot put an end to the conversation, though the two
young “sprigs of nobility” made themselves as agreeable as possible to
the ladies, whom they escorted to the hurricane-deck so as to afford
them an opportunity to observe the scenery of “Southampton Water” and
“The Solent,” as the steamer went to sea.
The anchor had been heaved up to a short stay; and, as soon as the
pilot was on the deck, the order was given to man the capstan again.
The young tars were wide awake, and the pilot said he had never seen a
steamer better handled than the Ville d’Angers was on this occasion.
In a couple of hours the steamer was off the Needles, and the pilot
was discharged. Capt. O’Hara was his own navigator, though Tom Speers
and first officer Lawring also worked up the problems, and drew off
the courses from the chart, to verify the captain’s work. The first
course was from the Needles, the point of “departure,” to Ushant. The
weather was delightful, and all on board were happy except the two
malecontents in their state-rooms. The extra engineers were intelligent
and agreeable men, and the firemen were a great improvement upon the
French and Italian ones.
Gregory and Clinch had several times been offered the liberty of
the deck, under the charge of the boatswain; and the offer had been
declined. But the captain and the instructor did not consider it
prudent to allow them to hold any communication with the officers and
seamen of the vessel, for Gregory was still in a mood to foment a
mutiny.
The steward who carried their meals to the prisoners gave them the
current news of the day, so far as he obtained it himself; and they
were tolerably well posted. After the sale of the steamer to the
Prince, the aspect of the case began to change, as the mutineers viewed
it. They had expected that the Ville d’Angers would be given up to the
owners, and the ship’s company sent to Madeira in a passenger-steamer.
That had been the talk before the mutiny. Gregory was confident
that the change from the vessel to the packet would afford them an
opportunity to escape from the rule of Capt. O’Hara and the instructor.
The ex-first officer was the son of a rich man, an Englishman who had
been naturalized in New York. He had a letter of credit for a large
amount, and he was fully determined not to return to the squadron.
This hope faded away when the steward told him the steamer had been
purchased by the Prince, and would sail for Madeira as soon as
possible. He was appalled at the idea. He was sure Mr. Fluxion would
degrade him to the lowest number in the Josephine; and he was too
proud and haughty to tolerate for an instant the thought of such a
humiliation.
He wanted to consult with Clinch about the present situation. He knew
that the state-room of his fellow-conspirator was next to his own; but
he dared not attempt to converse with him through the partition, lest
they should be heard by the officers in the cabin, and another room be
assigned to one of them. When the steamer began to move, he listened
attentively at the door; but no sound came from that direction. The
bull’s-eye in his room was open, and he could hear voices on the deck
above him.
He knocked on the partition to attract the attention of Clinch; and
he had often done so before, though the conspirators had been unable
to make each other understand more than a few words. His companion in
misery promptly replied to his call.
“Make a hole in the partition,” said he; and he rapped several times to
indicate the place for it.
“All right,” replied Clinch.
But they had to repeat what they said several times before they
could be understood. Gregory had given his present plan careful
consideration. He had selected a spot behind the dressing-case that
was fastened to the bulkhead. With his pocket-knife he had removed the
screws from the case, and arranged it so that he could restore it at an
instant’s notice.
Clinch’s dressing-case was on the other side of the partition, and the
aperture to be made could be concealed on Clinch’s side in the same
manner as on his own. As soon as the case was removed, he went to work
with his knife. The partition was a double one, composed of boards
extending diagonally, but from opposite angles in the two rooms.
After half an hour’s diligent work he had cut a hole half an inch in
diameter through one thickness of the partition. He had spread a towel
under the place where he was working, to receive the chips, so that
they should not betray him. It was not so easy to cut through the
second board; it could be better done by Clinch on the other side.
Taking one of the gimlet-screws he had removed from the dressing-case,
he turned it with his knife till he had passed it through the second
board. He then unscrewed it, and enlarged the hole with a small blade
of his knife, till it would admit the lead pencil he carried in his
pocket.
The dressing-case consisted of a looking-glass, under which was a rack
for bottles and glasses, and a couple of small drawers. He had made the
hole where the back of one of these drawers had been. With the lead
pencil, he pushed the drawer in Clinch’s room out as far as the length
of the implement used would permit. His fellow-conspirator observed the
movement of the drawer, and removed it from the case. He saw the hole,
and fully comprehended the plan of his friend.
“Take out the screws from the dressing-case,” said Gregory, with his
mouth at the aperture.
Clinch complied with the request without making any reply; for he was
afraid he should be heard, and the plan spoiled before it was carried
out.
“All right,” said he, when he could get his mouth close to the hole.
“Cut out the hole till it is as large as on this side. Put your towel
down so as to save the chips,” replied Gregory, in a low tone.
Clinch went to work, and in a short time he had made the aperture of
the same size all the way through. But half an inch was rather small,
and they enlarged it to an inch, which would enable them to talk with
less danger of being heard. The dressing-cases were then restored to
their former positions. Gregory had improved upon his plan as the work
proceeded; and it was necessary to remove only the drawers on each side
when they wished to talk together. Each could call the attention of the
other by shoving out the drawer. If any one came to the door of either
state-room while the contrivance was in use, it could be concealed by
restoring the drawer.
“How are you now?” asked Gregory, when the cases had been replaced.
“All right! this is a first-class arrangement,” replied Clinch.
“Put your mouth close-up to the case, and speak very low,” added
Gregory, who was as much pleased with his invention as though it had
been a useful machine.
“I will,” answered Clinch in a whisper. “Can you hear me?”
“Very distinctly. The steamer is in still water now; and we may have to
speak louder when she gets to sea.”
“I heard some strange voices in the cabin before the steamer sailed. Do
you know who they are?” asked Clinch.
“I don’t. I have not heard them since the screw began to turn,”
answered Gregory. “I believe I have heard one of the voices before; but
I can’t think whose it is now.”
“It may be some friend of yours. Your folks are English.”
“But they all live in Lancashire; and none of them are likely to be in
this part of England.”
“We can find out who they are when the steward brings our dinner,”
added Clinch.
“I don’t suppose it makes much difference to us who the strangers are.
Things look black enough on this side of the house,” said Gregory, in a
rather desponding tone.
“So they do on this side,” replied Clinch. “We can be a little more
sociable than we have been; and that’s all.”
“I don’t give it up yet.”
“Give what up?”
“Getting out of this scrape.”
“I don’t see any way out of it.”
A footstep in the cabin caused them both to insert the drawers, and
close the conversation.