I should spin far too long a yarn were I to describe the various actions
in which we were engaged, or even mention the different ships to which
we belonged. Both Harry and Reginald Leslie had now passed for
lieutenants--indeed they had been for some time doing duty as such. Of
course they could have done very well without me, but hitherto, thanks
to Captain Leslie, we had always been appointed to the same ship.
The last time we were at home, Harry had become a greater favourite than
ever with the captain's family. Of course the brave way in which he had
saved Reginald at Toulon, at the risk of his own life, was well known.
Though he himself might not have talked much about it, Reginald had
given a full account of all that had happened. With Susan and me, Harry
was just the same as he had always been. One thing we discovered, that
he had given his heart to Miss Fanny, and it was Susan's belief that she
had given hers in return. We saw no harm in this, though we thought it
better not to talk to him about it; but I had a notion that the captain
did not suspect the true state of the case. Both Harry and I were
anxious to hear from Jerry, but day after day passed by, and no letter
came from him; I was expecting to be sent off to sea, and so were the
young gentlemen. Harry, I suspect, was in no hurry to go; and Reginald,
who generally took things easy, was happy with his family, and was
thankful to stop on shore for a spell. Still the accounts which we read
in the papers, of the gallant actions fought, made us before long wish
to be afloat again. We were reading, I remember, an account of Sir
Sidney Smith's brave defence of Acre against Buonaparte, whom he
compelled to raise the siege.
"I wish that I had been there!" exclaimed Harry. "Captain Leslie says
we ought to be afloat again, and it's right, I know, though home is very
pleasant. We are sure, if we go, to obtain our promotion before long,
and once lieutenants, if we have luck, we shall soon win our next step;
till I get that, I feel too sure that I shall have no chance of gaining
the object nearest my heart."
"What is that, Harry?" I asked.
"Perhaps I ought to have told you before, father; but the secret was not
mine alone," was the answer.
Harry then told me what I suspected long ago, that he had set his heart
on marrying Miss Fanny Leslie.
"I hope you have not told her so, my boy," I said; "the captain would
not approve of it."
"Yes, father, I have though," he answered; "and she has promised to
marry me if her parents will allow her."
"I am very sorry to hear this, for one thing, Harry," I said; "I fear it
will cause you and her much disappointment and sorrow. The captain is
very kind; he wishes you well, but he is proud of his family; and he
will not allow his daughter to marry a man about whose birth he knows
nothing, and who has no fortune. He will also be vexed to find that his
daughter has engaged herself without first consulting him and her
mother."
"But we have known each other from childhood, and he always encouraged
me to come to the house," pleaded Harry; "and so Fanny thinks that he
will not object to me."
"It's my belief he never thought such a thing possible," I observed; "I
daresay he will blame himself when he finds it out, but that won't make
him excuse you. I wish you would tell Miss Fanny what I say. The best
thing you can now do is to set each other free; and if she remains
unmarried, and you obtain your promotion and discover that you are of a
family to which her father would not object, you can then come forward
openly and claim her."
This, I am sure, was good advice.
"But, father, I cannot say this to Fanny; she would think me
hard-hearted and that I did not really love her," said Harry.
"If she trusts you, and is a sensible girl, she will see that you are
acting rightly," I answered. "Do what is right, and trust that all will
come well in the end. That is a sound maxim, depend on it."
Harry at last replied that he would think over what I had said.
The next day he told me that he had spoken to Miss Fanny, who, though it
made her very unhappy, had at last acknowledged that I was right, and
consented to do as I had advised; assuring him, however, that she would
never change. I was thankful to hear this, as it saved me from speaking
to the captain, which I should have otherwise felt bound to do.
A few days after this I received orders to join the _Vestal_ frigate;
and though neither I nor they expected it, Reginald and Harry were
appointed as master's mates to the same ship. I had to go on board at
once, and they joined a few days afterwards. We were ordered to fit out
with all despatch, and were quickly ready for sea.
I felt sorry at having to leave without again hearing from Jerry, for of
course I could not tell what might happen to me; and there was nothing I
more desired, for Harry's sake, than to find out who his parents had
been. When I thought what a fine, handsome, gallant young fellow he
was, I could not help hoping that he would have no reason to be ashamed
of them. At all events, he would not be worse off than he was; and
supposing that, after all, his birth was not such as he could boast of,
he might still win a name for himself, as many another officer had done,
who had, as the saying is, "gone in through the hawse-hole," just as the
renowned Captain Cook and several of our bravest captains and admirals
had done.
We had gone out to Spithead, and "Blue Peter" was flying from the fore,
when who should come alongside in a boat from Ryde but Susan herself. I
had bidden her good-bye, and did not expect to see her again.
"I have brought a letter," she said; "and as it is from Jerry, I did not
like to trust it to anyone else."
She had just given it to me, when I received the order to "Pipe up
anchor"; so all I could do was to shove it into my pocket, while Susan
hurried down the side without knowing its contents. This was very
trying to her, and I wished that she had looked at it before bringing it
off.
When a ship is making sail, the boatswain has more to do than anybody
else, and some hours passed before I could get to my cabin and break the
seal; it was, as Susan supposed, from Jerry. Having it still by me, I
give it in his own words:--
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Dear old Ship,--I am comfortably moored at last in a cottage of my own,
with a small independence left me by my father--more than I deserved. I
might have had it years ago, if my good sister Mary and her husband, Mr
Pengelley, had known where to find me. I had been here some time before
I could make up my mind to let Mary know who I was. Instead of giving
me the cold shoulder, bless her heart, she welcomed me at once, and I
have been as happy as the day is long ever since, except when I think of
the past and my own folly; but as it does me no good dwelling on that, I
try to forget it. Mr Pengelley is a lawyer, and lawyers, as you know,
hear a good many things. One day I told him about Harry; he had never
heard of a child being saved from the wreck of the _Royal George_, nor
had any people about here that I can make out. The next day he told me
that he had been thinking over the matter, and asked me if I had ever in
my wanderings been to the house of an old Mr Hayward, living some miles
off. I remembered not only the house, which is a very solitary one,
half a mile or more from any highroad, but the old gentleman himself,
and a lady whom I heard was his widowed daughter. She spoke to me
kindly when I first went there, and said that she loved sailors, and
wanted to hear all about the sea. She invited me into the house, and
gave me a good dinner, and begged that I would look in whenever I came
that way. I went several times. Though she was every inch a lady, I
saw no servant in the house, and guessed that she took care of the old
gentleman; indeed it was evident that their means were very scanty. She
must have been very pretty in her youth, but care and sorrow had left
their traces on her countenance; and I remembered, too, that she was
always dressed in black. `I will tell you her history,' said Mr
Pengelley. `Her father, Mr Hayward, was once a flourishing merchant at
Bristol, and she, his only daughter, was looked upon as his heiress. A
young naval officer, Henry Stafford, met her at Bath, where she was
staying with some friends; they fell in love with each other, and were
engaged to marry as soon as he got his promotion, for he was then only a
mate in the service. He and his only sister, Emily, lived with their
widowed mother at the same place. Henry had good prospects, for he was
heir to his uncle Sir Mostyn Stafford, of an old and very proud family,
who had an estate in the neighbouring county. When the baronet heard
that his nephew was about to marry without consulting him, he was very
indignant, and declared that if he persisted in connecting himself with
a family which he looked upon as inferior to his own, he would stop the
allowance he now made him, and not leave him a penny beyond the title
and estate, from which he could not cut him off. Henry did not believe
that his uncle would, or indeed could, act as he threatened. He would
possibly have, at all events, deferred his marriage; but going one day
to see Miss Hayward, he found her in great distress. She then told him
that her father was on the point of failing, and wished her to marry a
man of large means, who would help him out of his difficulties. On
this, Henry Stafford, fearing that he should lose her altogether,
persuaded her to run off with him, promising to raise money, as he
thought he could, to assist her father. They married, and Henry, who
was the idol of his mother, took his young wife to live with her and his
sister. He soon discovered that he was utterly unable to help Mr
Hayward as he intended; and though the merchant was at first much
annoyed at his daughter's clandestine marriage, he was quickly
reconciled to her, especially when she told him of Harry's intentions.
He soon afterwards failed, when, without making any attempt to retrieve
his fortunes, he went to live at the retired house where he still
resides. When Sir Mostyn Stafford heard that his nephew had actually
married, he was highly incensed, and carried out his threats, depriving
even Mrs Stafford of a portion of her income over which he had power.
As he was not a badly-disposed man, I believe that he would not have
acted thus severely towards his nephew and sister-in-law had he not been
greatly influenced by a cousin of his, Biddulph Stafford, who was heir
to the estate after Henry. Biddulph Stafford's whole soul was set on
making money, and he had been heard to express his satisfaction when war
broke out, as Harry was in the navy, that the enemy's shot might give
him possession of the estate and title. His vexation and disappointment
was therefore very great when young Mrs Stafford gave birth to a son,
and from that moment he had redoubled his efforts to induce the baronet
to take harsher measures towards his nephew. Harry was compelled to go
to sea as the only means of finding support for his young wife and
child. He had been afloat about a year or more, when Mr Hayward fell
ill, and his daughter hurried off to see him, leaving her child in
charge of Mrs Stafford and Emily. What Biddulph Stafford's object was
I don't know, but, being well informed of all that occurred, he
persuaded Sir Mostyn to offer not only to restore to Mrs Stafford her
income, but to increase it, provided she would consent not again to
receive her daughter-in-law, and to bring up the child herself. This
was a hard trial to the poor young mother, but she could not hold out
when old Mrs Stafford persuaded her son to consent to the arrangement
under the belief that it was likely to prove advantageous to the boy.
Both Mrs Stafford and her daughter had, however, cause to regret this
arrangement, for they found that they were constantly watched, they
believed, by some agent of Biddulph, and they were persuaded his object
was to get possession of the child; however, by constant vigilance, they
were able to defeat it. Now comes the mysterious part of the business.
Old Mrs Stafford, who had been for some time in declining health, died;
and the day after her funeral Emily and the child disappeared. The idea
was that either Biddulph had won her over, or that she, frightened by
his threats, had gone off secretly to escape from him, thinking that by
some means or other he would get hold of the boy. The latter opinion I
believe to be the true one; indeed, Biddulph Stafford, having been seen
at Bath the day before, it is possible that he might have followed
Emily, and by some means or other got possession of the child--perhaps
have carried the aunt and her nephew off abroad. That there was foul
play no one doubted. Young Mrs Stafford was as much in the dark as
anyone; she had not heard from Emily, nor had she been aware of her
intention of leaving Bath. Living so completely out of the world as she
did, it was not till some time after that she heard her child and
sister-in-law were missing. When the account of the loss of the _Royal
George_ reached her, she knew that it was the ship aboard which her
husband was serving, and she was for some days left in doubt whether he
was among the many who perished or the few which escaped. In vain she
waited to hear from him; at last she saw his name among the list of
those who were lost. It was a wonder that she did not sink under her
misfortunes, and she would probably have done so had she not undertaken
the sacred task of watching over her invalid father. Another strange
circumstance occurred: Biddulph Stafford, who knew all along where she
was living, unexpectedly called on her, and expressed the greatest
sympathy with her at the loss of her husband, and offered to assist her
in obtaining a portion of the subscriptions raised for the widows of
those who perished. She, knowing less about him than her sister-in-law
did, accepted his offer. He assured her also that he had made every
inquiry for Emily and the little boy, but could not trace in what
direction they had gone. It was remarkable that all the information she
obtained about the wreck of the _Royal George_ was from her cousin, and
he seems thoroughly to have won her confidence by his apparently frank
and pleasing manners.'"
"Such was the account I received from Mr Pengelley. I wish I could
tell you more; but I cannot help thinking that something will come of
it, and you may depend on me for doing my best to ferret out the truth,
as I think you may also on my good brother-in-law. Good-bye for the
present, Ben; I don't know whether it will be wise to tell this to your
young friend."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I thought the matter over, and at last resolved to make a copy of the
letter, and to give it, sealed up, into Harry's keeping. I did so,
charging him not to open it, except in the case of my death.
Recollecting Susan's natural curiosity to know the contents of the
letter, and also in case the original and the first copy should be lost,
I made a second, which I sent on shore at Falmouth, charging Susan not
to show it to anyone. I also wrote to Jerry, thanking him for his
exertions, and begging him to send Susan all the information he could
collect.
We had been at sea some time, and had taken a French privateer and three
Spanish merchantmen, though we had met with no enemy which offered
opposition. We were cruising in the Bay of Biscay, when one evening,
Cape Ortegal bearing south-west, distant eight or nine leagues, we
discovered a large fleet to windward, which our captain believed
consisted of Spanish merchant vessels under convoy of some men-of-war.
"We will pick up some of those fellows before long," he exclaimed; and
we stood towards the enemy. As we drew near we made out five frigates
and two men-of-war brigs, with full eighty merchant vessels, steering to
the northward, having apparently come from Cadiz. In spite of their
number, our captain kept to his resolution of attacking them, and stood
on till we weathered the leading frigate, which was ahead and some
distance from the convoy. The darkness of night had come on when we got
up alongside the enemy. Our captain hailed and asked her name. The
answer was--
"The Spanish frigate _Ceres_."
"Then strike your colours," cried our captain.
The enemy did not obey the order, and we immediately poured a broadside
into her. The Spaniards returned it, doing us little damage. While we
were loading our guns, to give her a second dose, she put up her helm,
and endeavoured to join her consorts to leeward. We immediately kept
away and engaged her to leeward, and in about twenty minutes we had
silenced her fire, having had only a couple of men hit; we were about to
take possession, when we saw the other four frigates close to us. While
hauling up, to avoid being raked by the leading frigate which had opened
her fire on us, we fell aboard her, carrying away her main-topsail-yard.
We had handled her pretty roughly, when two more frigates coming up,
one on each side of us, we kept blazing away at both of them, till the
fourth arrived, followed by the two brigs. We were now surrounded by
more enemies than even our fire-eating captain thought it prudent to
contend with. However, either the Spaniards forgot to put shot in their
guns, or fired them wildly, for we received but little damage, only two
more men having been hit; we quickly hauled to the wind and stood out
from among them, unharmed, although they were blazing away as fast as
they could get their guns to bear on us. We then steered for a part of
the convoy which had been somewhat scattered during the action, and
succeeded in cutting off a large brig; but as the frigates were close
upon our heels, we had only time to send a couple of boats on board,
under the command of Harry and Mr Leslie, who, having taken out her
crew, set her on fire fore and aft. So rapidly had they executed their
orders, that they were back again in a little more than five minutes,
and we again made all sail, just as the four Spanish frigates coming up
got us within range of their guns. As we had no longer any chance of
capturing either of them, we continued our course, and soon ran them out
of sight, they evidently having no inclination to follow us. Though it
was not to be compared to our escape from Toulon, still it was a dashing
piece of business, which required good seamanship to accomplish, and I
therefore think it worthy of being mentioned.
Both Harry and Reginald were naturally anxious to do something to
distinguish themselves, by which they might make sure of their
promotion. They had behaved admirably on every occasion, and all they
wanted was the opportunity which, as is well known, does not fall to the
lot of every man.
We had been cruising in the northern part of the Bay of Biscay, when,
standing towards Brest, we made out under the batteries in Camaret Bay a
brig-of-war at anchor, with springs on her cable. One of our
lieutenants was ill, and another away in a prize. Harry, to his great
satisfaction, having got leave to lead an expedition to cut her out,
asked for me to accompany him; Reginald had command of one boat, and a
midshipman had charge of a third. We knew that there were several
ships-of-war at anchor scarcely a mile off, which might have sent their
boats to stop us if they had known what we were about. We stood inshore
as soon as it was dark, and when about two miles from the place hove-to.
The boats were lowered, and we shoved off. Harry and I were in the
cutter, a fast-pulling boat, and kept ahead of the other two boats. We
could tell the position of the brig by the lights on shore, and, after a
hard pull, we caught sight of her. We guessed by the sounds that
reached us that her crew were at quarters, but, though the other boats
were still some way astern, Harry was eager to board at once; we made
for her quarter, and hooking on, we sprang over her bulwarks with our
cutlasses in hand. The Frenchmen made a desperate rush at us; I looked
round, but nowhere could I see Harry. The next instant I found myself
hurled back into the boat among several of our men who had boarded with
me. I sang out for Harry, but he was not in the boat, and I feared that
he had been cut down; just then I heard his voice, and found that he had
sprung into a trawl-net which hung over the brig's quarter. We made
another attempt to gain the deck, and kept back the Frenchmen; while
Harry extricated himself, with the help of two of the men, from his
dangerous position, and leapt back into the boat, into which we were
again driven.
"Haul the boat more ahead, and we will try it again!" he shouted out.
Though I had had a thrust with a pike in my side, and I guessed that
several other men were wounded, not being aware, however, that Harry
himself had been hurt, we again sprang on board. I kept close to him
this time, and warded off a heavy blow aimed at his head; pistols were
flashed in our faces, pikes thrust at us, and cutlasses were whirled
round our heads, and again we were driven back with more men hurt, while
I had received another wound from a cutlass. I began to fear that we
should not succeed. It was but for a moment. Harry's voice cheered me
up:--
"At them again, lads!" he shouted; and once more we sprang up the side,
cutting down every one of the Frenchmen within reach of our weapons.
Six or eight of us having gained the deck, the rest followed; and
charging the Frenchmen we drove them aft, killing or wounding everyone
who attempted to withstand us. In less than three minutes the brig was
ours, and the enemy cried out for quarter, even before the other two
boats came up. The men in them not required at the oars jumped on board
to assist in securing the prisoners, the cable was cut, and, while we
were making sail, the boats took the prize in tow; and before the people
in the forts knew what had happened, we were standing away from the
land. We found that six Frenchmen had been killed, and twenty wounded,
some of them pretty badly. We had lost one man, and eight of us were
wounded, Harry in two places, and I in no less than six. As soon as we
got the breeze, we took the boats in tow, and stood towards the frigate.
The captain was highly pleased at the success of the enterprise, and
told Harry that he might be sure of his promotion.
We had been on the point of returning home, and we now made the best of
our way with our prize up Channel. I was not aware, till the doctor
came to overhaul me, how much I had been hurt, and the next day I was
unable to leave my cabin. Harry, who had the cabin of the absent
lieutenant, was also confined to his. As soon as he could, he came to
see me.
"I would willingly have been much more hurt rather than have missed
taking the prize," he said, after he had inquired how I was getting on.
"I hope that Captain Leslie will at least see that I am worth
something."
"No doubt about that, Harry," I answered. "You did well, and I am proud
of you; still be wise, and don't presume on what you have done."
I don't think Harry quite liked my advice; however, he said nothing. I
think that Reginald must have been a little jealous of him, though it
was not his fault that he had not been up in time to board the brig
before we had possession of her; at all events, he did not show what he
felt, and spoke as if he admired Harry more than ever.
As soon as we arrived at Spithead, Harry, Reginald, and I got leave to
go on shore; Harry had by this time nearly recovered, but the doctor
said that I must not expect to be fit for duty for many weeks to come.
Reginald at once went home, and Harry accompanied me. If nobody else
was proud of him, Susan at all events was, and I had good reason to be
thankful that I had such a wife to look after me. The same evening
Reginald came down and begged Harry to come to the house, as his father
and mother and all the ladies were anxious to see him. Reginald had
been giving a full account of Harry's gallantry, and I suspect from what
Susan heard, that Miss Fanny had somewhat betrayed her feelings. Harry
came back in high spirits, accompanied by Reginald, to help him along; I
was altogether laid up, and, though Harry could not walk far, he managed
to get every day to the captain's house. In less than ten days he
received his commission as lieutenant.
"I knew you would!" I exclaimed as he held it up proudly to me. "All
you wanted was the opportunity, and you got that."
"I hope that Reginald will get his too!" he exclaimed, "for he deserves
it, as he would have done the same had he had the chance I got. I must
go up to the captain's, and tell them," he said.
"I was on the point of cautioning him about his behaviour to Miss Fanny,
but I had not the heart just then to do it, he looked so proud and
happy. Off he went, and didn't come back till late in the evening, as
he had been asked to stop and dine. Next day he had to go over to
Portsmouth to order his uniform.
"I must go up and see Miss Fanny first," he said; "she told me that the
captain spoke so highly of me that she is satisfied he would not object
to our marriage. I shall have, as you know, a good share of
prize-money, and we think that we shall have enough to keep house; so
she was to tell the captain this morning, and we hope to have it all
settled.
"I don't like to damp your spirits, Harry," I said, "but, my dear boy,
don't be too sure; the captain could do nothing else than speak highly
of your conduct; but that makes me think, as I have all along, that he
never dreamt of his daughter and you falling in love with each other.
However, you are bound to go up and hear what he has to say, and if he
is not pleased, don't show any anger, but say that you will wait
patiently till you have gained another step in rank, or have discovered
who are your parents; and that if it should be proved that your family
is not inferior to his, that you hope he will then withdraw any
objections he may at present entertain."
"I trust that I shall not have to say that," answered Harry; "I would
rather be accepted on my own merits."
"So you are by the young lady; and that is the chief matter. Parents
are apt to look at things in a different light to young people," I
observed.
Susan and I sat anxiously waiting Harry's return. I forgot to say that
I had been hoping, day after day, to hear from Jerry, and had written
telling him of Harry's gallantry, and that he and I were at home again.
I had, however, received no answer. Harry had been absent fully three
hours. I saw, as soon as he appeared, that all had not gone well. He
threw himself into a chair. Susan waited for him to speak. At last she
said, in her gentle way--
"I am afraid, dear Harry, that the captain does not see things in the
light you expected."
"No, mother, he does not," he answered. "He spoke as if he wished to be
as kind as possible, but what he said went to my heart.
"`I have regarded you with sincere affection, having known you from your
childhood, and as the friend of my son,' he began; `but I did not expect
that you would have thus returned any service I may have rendered you.
I have been wrong, I confess, to permit the intimacy which has existed
between you and all the members of my family; but I tell you at once
that I have an insuperable objection to any one of my daughters marrying
a man whose family is unknown to me. For yourself I shall always
entertain the truest regard, and I must beg you to receive this answer
as final. Though Mrs Leslie and I shall regret the loss of your
society, you will see that, under the circumstances, it is better that
you should not again come to my house.'"
"I tried to argue the point, and spoke to the captain as you advised,
father; but all I said had no effect, and showed me he had made up his
mind how to act. He would not even allow me to see Fanny; and from
being the happiest of human beings, I am now one of the most miserable."
Susan and I did what we could to comfort Harry, though without much
avail. I was therefore thankful when the next day a letter from the
Admiralty came appointing him as third lieutenant to the _Vestal_, and
directing him to join at once. Reginald came down immediately
afterwards, as he had also been ordered to join his ship; and he
proposed that they should go over to Portsmouth that afternoon. Harry
agreed; and though Susan and I were sorry to lose him so suddenly, we
saw that it was the best thing he could do.
A week afterwards the _Vestal_ sailed down Channel, and, judging by
Harry's last letter, I hoped that he had somewhat regained his spirits.