IT'S WELL TO HAVE A LONG SPOON WHEN ONE SIPS SOUP WITH THE DEVIL--THE
CAPTAIN'S SHOT SELDOM MISSES.
It is always a greater proof of courage to stand fire coolly than to
fire. Captain Reud, I must suppose, wished to try the degree of
intrepidity of his officers, by permitting the chase to give us several
weighty objections against any more advance of familiarity on our parts.
A quarter of a century ago there were some very strange notions
prevalent in the navy, among which none was more common, than that the
firing of the bow guns _materially_ checked the speed of the vessel.
The captain and the first-lieutenant both held this opinion. Thus we
continued to gain upon the corvette, and she, being emboldened by the
impunity with which she cannonaded us, fired the more rapidly and with
the greater precision, as our rent sails and ravelled running rigging
began to testify.
I was rather impatient at this apparent apathy on our parts. Mr Burn,
the gunner, seemed to more than participate in my feelings. Our two
bow-guns were very imposing-looking magnates. They would deliver a
message at three miles' distance, though it were no less than a missive
of eighteen pounds avoirdupois; and we were now barely within half that
distance. Mr Burn was particularly excellent at two things--a long
shot, and the long bow. In all the ships that I have sailed, I never
yet met with his equal at a cool, embellished, intrepid lie, or at the
accuracy of his ball practice. Baron Munchausen would have found no
mean rival in him at the former; and, were duels fought with eighteen
pounders, Lord Camelford would have been remarkably polite in the
company of our master of projectiles.
I was upon the point of writing that Mr Burn was _burning_ with ardour.
I see it written--it is something worse than a pun--therefore, _per
omnes modos et casus_--heretical and damnable--consequently I beg the
reader to consign it to the oblivion with which we cover our bad
actions, and read thus:--The gunner was burning with impatience to show
the captain what a valuable officer he commanded. The two guns had long
been ready, and, with the lanyard of the lock in his right hand, and the
rim of his glazed hat in his left, he was continually saying, "shall I
give her a shot now, Captain Reud?"
The answer was as provokingly tautologous as a member of parliament's
speech, who is in aid of the whipper-in, speaking against time. "Wait a
little, Mr Burn."
"Well, Mr Rattlin," said the fat doctor, blowing himself up to me, "so
you have been knighted--on the field of battle, too--knight banneret of
the order of the light bobs."
I was standing with the captain's glass to my eye, looking over the
hammocks. In order to get near me he had been obliged to cling hold of
the hammock rails with both hands, so that his huge, round, red face,
just peeped above the tarpaulin hammock cloths, his chin resting upon
them, no bad type of an angry sun showing his face above the rim of a
black cloud, through a London November fog.
"Take care doctor," I sang out, for I had seen the flashings of the
enemy's guns.
"Light bobs," said the jeering doctor; when away flew the upper part of
his hat, and down he dropped on the deck, on that part which nature
seems to have purposely padded in order to make the fall of man easy.
"No light bob, however," said I.
The doctor arose, rubbing with an assiduity that strongly reminded me of
my old schoolmaster, Mr Root.
"To your station, doctor," said the captain, harshly.
"Spoilt a good hat in trying to make a bad joke;" and he shuffled
himself below.
"Your gig, Captain Reud, cut all to shivers," said a petty officer.
This was the unkindest cut of all. As we were approaching Barbados, the
captain had caused his very handsome gig to be hoisted in from over the
stern, placed on the thwarts of the launch, and it had been in that
position only the day before, very elaborately painted. The irritated
commander seized hold of the lanyard of one of the eighteen pounders,
exclaiming, at the same time, "Mr Burn, when you have got your sight,
fire!"
The two pieces of artillery simultaneously roared out their thunders,
the smoke was driven aft immediately, and down toppled the three
topmasts of the corvette. The falling of those masts was a beautiful
sight. They did not rush down impetuously, but stooped themselves
gradually and gracefully, with all their clouds of canvas. A swan in
mid air, with her drooping wings broken by a shot, slowly descending,
might give you some idea of the view. But after the descent of the
multitudinous sails, the beauty was wholly destroyed. Where before
there careered gallantly and triumphantly before the gale a noble ship,
now nothing but a wreck appeared painfully to trail along laboriously
its tattered and degraded ruins.
"What do you think of that shot, Mr Farmer?" said the little captain,
all exultation. "Pray, Mr Rattlin, where did Mr Burn's shot fall?"
"_One_ of the shot struck the water about half a mile to port, sir,"
said I, for I was still at my post watching the proceedings.
"O Mr Burn! Mr Burn! what could you be about? It is really shameful
to throw away his Majesty's shot in that manner. Oh, Mr Burn!" said
the captain, more in pity than in anger.
Mr Burn looked ridiculously foolish.
"O Mr Burn!" said I, "is this all you can show to justify your
bragging?"
"If ever I fire a shot with the captain again," said the mortified
gunner, "may I be rammed, crammed, and jammed in a mortar, and blown to
atoms."
In the space of a quarter of an hour we were alongside of the _Jean
Bart_. She mounted twenty-two guns, was crowded with a dirty crew, and,
after taking out most of them, and sending plenty of hands on board, in
two hours more we had got up her spare top-masts.
Before dark, everything appeared to be as if nothing had occurred, with
the exception of the captain's gig and the doctor's hat; and hauling our
wind, in company with our prize, we made sail towards that quarter in
which we had left our convoy.
At daylight next morning, we found ourselves again with our convoy. Mr
Silva had recaptured the four vessels taken by the felucca. The
_Falcon_ hove in sight about mid-day. She had chased the felucca well,
to windward, when the immense large schooner had intruded herself as a
third in the party, and she and the felucca, as well as I could
understand, had united, and gave the man-of-war brig a pretty
considerable tarnation licking, as brother Jonathan hath it.
She certainly made a very shattered appearance, and had lost several
men. However, in the official letter of the commander to Captain Reud,
all this was satisfactorily explained. He had beaten both, and they had
struck; but owing to night coming on before he could take possession of
them, they had most infamously escaped in the darkness. However, it did
not much signify, as they were now, having struck, lawful prizes to any
English vessel that could lay hold of them. I thought at the time that
there was no doubt of _that_.
The next day we made the land. The low island of Barbados had the
appearance of a highly-cultivated garden, and the green look, so
refreshing in a hot country, and so dear to me, as it reminded me of
England.