SYMPTOMS OF SICKNESS, NOT OF THE SEA, BUT OF THE LAND BEYOND IT--OUR
M.D. WISHES TO WRITE DIO, AND PREPARES ACCORDINGLY--RALPH IS ABOUT TO
REAP HIS FIRST MARINE LAURELS ON THE ROCKS OF COVE.
I do not get on with this life at all. I have not yet reached the Cove
of Cork. Clap on more sail. It is bitterly cold, however, and here we
are now safely moored in one of the petals of the "first flower of the
sea."
In making this short passage, Captain Reud was very affable and
communicative. He could talk of nothing but the beautiful coast of
Leghorn; the superb bay of Naples; pleasant trips to Rome; visits to
Tripoli; and other interesting parts on the African coast; and, on the
voluptuous city of Palermo, with its amiable ladies and incessant
festivities--he was quite as eloquent as could reasonably be expected
from a smart post-captain of four-and-twenty.
We were all in a fool's paradise. For myself; I was enraptured. I was
continually making extracts from Horace, Virgil, and other school-books,
that I still carried with me, which referred, in the least, to those
places that we were at all likely to see. But visions of this land of
promise, of this sea, flowing with gentle waves and rich prizes, were
soon dispersed before a sad reality, that, without the aid of the biting
weather, now made most of the officers and men look blue, so soon as our
anchors had nipped the ground of the Green Island. We found ourselves
in the middle of a convoy of more than two hundred vessels of all
descriptions, that the experienced immediately knew to be West Indiamen.
The sarcastic glee with which Captain Reud rubbed his skinny, yellow
hands, when he ordered additional sentries, and a boat to row guard
round the ship from sunset to sunrise, weather permitting, to prevent
desertion, gave me a strong impression of the malignity of his
disposition. Certainly, the officers, from the first lieutenant
downwards, looked, when under the influence of the first surprise, about
as sage as we may conceive did those seven wise men of Gotham, who put
to sea in a bowl. Some of them had even exchanged into the ship, for
certain unlawful considerations, because she was so fine a frigate, and
the captain possessed so much interest, being a very near and dear
relation of the then treasurer of the navy. With this interest they
thought, of course, that he would have the selection of his own station.
And so he had. They either did not know, or had forgotten, that
Captain Reud was a West Indian creole, and that he had large patrimonial
estates in Antigua.
"Not loud but deep," were the curses in the gun-room, but both "loud and
deep" were those in the midshipman's berth, for the denizens thereof
were never proverbial for the niceties of their expressions, when the
apalling certainty broke on the comminators, of three years' roasting in
the West Indies, with accompaniments of misgivings about Yellow Jack,
and the palisades, merely because the captain wished to go and see why
the niggers did not make quite so much sugar and rum as they used to do.
But, after all, we had a sage ship's company, officers included, for
there was scarcely a man in the ship, who, after our destination was
ascertained, did not say, "Well, I thought as much;" and they derived
much consolation from the consciousness of their foresight.
The knowledge of our station had a most decided effect upon two of our
officers, the master and surgeon; the former of whom, a weather-beaten,
old north-countryman, who had been all his life knocking about the north
sea, and our channels at home, immediately gave himself up for lost. He
made his will, and took a decidedly serious turn.
But there was another person, who viewed the West India station not
religiously like our master, or joyously like our captain, or
grumblingly like the marine officer, or despitefully like all the
lieutenants, or detestedly like my messmates, or indifferently like
myself. He took the matter into consideration discreetly, and so, in
order to enjoy a long life, he incontinently fell sick unto death. Of
course he knew, more than any man on board, how ill he was, for he was
the doctor himself. He was not merely a naval surgeon, but a regular
M.D., and with an English diploma. He could appreciate, as much as any
man, the value of life; and hard indeed did he struggle to preserve the
means of prolonging it. He was a short, round, and very corpulent
person, with a monstrously large and pleasantly-looking face, with a
very high colour--a colour not the flush of intemperance, but the glow
of genuine health. This vast physiognomy was dug all over with holes;
not merely pock-marks, but pock-pits. Indeed, his countenance put you
in mind of a vast tract of gravelly soil on a sunny day, dug over with
holes; it was so red, so cavernous, and withal, so bright. I need not
mention that he was a _bon vivant_, a most joyous, yet a most discreet
one. Even on board of ship he contrived to make his breakfasts dinners,
his dinners feasts, and his suppers, though light delicacies. He was no
mean proficient in the culinary art, and as refined a gourmand as the
dear departed Dr Kitchener--a man, to whose honour I have a great mind
to devote an episode, and would do so, were not my poor shipmate, Dr
Thompson, just now waiting for me to relieve him from his illness.
No sooner did our clever medical attendant understand his destination,
than he sent away his plate untouched at dinner--refused his wine--
talked movingly of broken constitutions, a predisposition to anasarea,
and the deceitful and dangerous appearances of florid health. At
supper, he pronounced himself a lost man, held out his brawny fist to
whomsoever would choose to feel his pulse, and sent for the first
assistant-surgeon to make him up a tremendous quantity of prescriptions,
to be exhibited the ensuing night--to whatever fish might be so
unfortunate as to be swimming alongside. After this display, and whilst
he was languidly sipping a tumbler of barley-water, the Honourable Mr
B, our junior luff, was loud in his complaints of being, what he called,
fairly entrapped; when Dr Thompson, in a feeble and tremulous voice,
read him a long lecture on patriotism, obedience to the dictates of
duty, and self-devotion, finishing thus:--"By Heaven, show me the man
that flinches from his duty, and I'll show you whatever may be his
outward bearing, a craven at heart! I am very ill--I feel that I am
fast sinking into a premature grave--but what of that. I should be but
too happy if I could make my dying struggles subservient to my country.
My body, Mr Farmer--Mr Wade, this poor temple of mine contains an
insidious enemy--a strange, a dreadful, and a wasting disease. It is
necessary for the sake of medical science, for my country's good, for
the health of the world at large, that my death, which will speedily
happen, should take place in England, in order that after dissolution I
may be dissected by the first operators, viewed by the most intelligent
of the faculty, and thus another light be placed on the present dark
paths of curative knowledge. My symptoms are momentarily growing worse.
Gentlemen, messmates, friends, I must leave you for the night, and too
soon, I fear, for ever; but never shrink your duty. If they be the last
words that I shall utter to you--humble though I be--I may venture to
hold myself up to you as a pattern of self-devotion. God bless you
all--good night--and never shirk your duty."
Of course, the company to whom this was addressed, were infinitely
amused at this display, and the third-lieutenant observed mournfully,
"Now there's no chance for me. The fat rogue is going to invalid
himself. I suppose that I need not trouble my liver to be diseased just
now, for the hypocrite won't allow another man in the ship to be sick
but himself."
The gentlemen guessed rightly. All the next day Dr Thompson kept his
cot, and was duly reported to the captain as dangerously ill. Now, our
first-lieutenant was a noble, frank, yet sensible and shrewd fellow, and
the captain was as mischief-loving, wicked little devil, as ever grinned
over a spiteful frolic. They held a consultation upon the case, and
soon came to a more decided opinion on it, than the gentlemen of the
faculty generally do on such occasions. Now, whilst the doctor is
plotting to prove himself desperately and almost hopelessly sick, and
the captain and Mr Farmer, to make him suddenly well, in spite of
himself I shall take the opportunity of displaying my own heroic deeds,
when placed in the first independent command ever conferred upon me.
Jason, with his Argonauts, went to bear away the Golden Fleece;
Columbus, and his heroes, to give a world to the sovereign of Spain; and
I, with two little boys, pushed out of the Cove perilously to procure
some sand in the dingy. Nothing elevates a biography like appropriate
comparison. But I doubt whether either Jason or Columbus felt a more
enthusiastic glow pervade their frames when each saw himself fairly
under sail for unknown seas than I did when I seized the tiller of the
dinghy, which was, by the bye, a stick not at all bigger than that which
I had, not many months before, used in trundling my hoop.