by the mystery of what had become of him. He was very popular with all
of us in the forecastle. His quick humour and gifted capacity to
entertain and amuse endeared him to everybody. A born musician, he
could play on almost any instrument, sing comic songs, and step-dance
as well as any professional. His great weakness was love of gay company
and grog. He belonged to very well-to-do, highly respectable people;
and their sorrow at his supposed death was very bitter. His mother
declared that the light had gone out of her life, and begged me never
to cease trying to find out when on my voyages whether he was alive or
not. The old lady said she feared the worst, but never ceased to pray
and hope that some day he would be brought back to them. A little over
a year had elapsed since the fateful night of his disappearance. I was
on my second voyage in the same vessel, but had been promoted to
boatswain. We had rounded Matapan with a snoring breeze on the port
beam. We had just opened the Gulf of Nauplia out when the look-out man
shouted, 'A vessel on the port bow!' She was carrying full sail, and
steering towards us. We soon discerned that she was on an unfriendly
errand, and that the intention was to try and board us. No one could be
seen about the decks except the helmsman and a man apparently on the
look out. If we altered our course she did the same; and whichever way
we went, her sailing qualities outmatched ours. The excitement had
grown to fever heat, as a great conflict was now imminent. Our men had
been supplied with muskets, and told to conceal themselves and use them
when the critical time came, and to make sure that every shot was
effectual. Two small cannon, which were fixtures on the taffrail, were
loaded ready to do service. At last she came within hailing distance of
our weather beam. A man shouted through a speaking-trumpet in mongrel
English to 'Heave to!' We did not heed this insolent command, but kept
going. In a few minutes more a peremptory command came through the
speaking-trumpet to 'Heave to, or we would be fired upon.'
"'Now's the time,' hissed our captain; 'we will do some damage to
ourselves, but, by God, we'll teach them to order an English ship to be
hove to! We must run right into his midships. I will give the order at
the proper moment. The thing must be done with the suddenness of fork
lightning. It is not the shooting so much as the sinking, and the panic
that must be created by the suddenness of our action. 'Hard down the
helm!' cried the captain. 'Let go your weather braces, and stand by to
use your muskets and bayonets too if any of them attempt to board us.'
In less than a minute the pirate schooner's doom was sealed. Our vessel
struck her with such force amidships that she sank almost immediately.
Instead of tacking their vessel, and getting out of our way, which they
might have done, they were encouraged to fight; and the man who didn't
was the man who has attracted your attention to-night. So far as we
could tell, only himself and three of the Greeks were saved. They
jumped aboard unarmed, and Jack, or 'Curly' as he was called, shouted
out to me and the captain who he was. We were dumbfounded. He hastily
told us how he had managed to bring about the disastrous results to the
pirates, and asked the captain to put the Greeks, or whatever they
were, into a boat and set them adrift. This was promptly agreed to, but
before the painter was let go one of the sailors asked permission to
shoot the beggars before they left, to prevent them killing somebody
else. But our captain only laughed and ordered them from alongside.
After cordially shaking hands with the captain and all the crew, Jack
requested to be allowed to assist in clearing away the wreckage caused
by the collision, and fixing the spare jib-boom, for that was the only
spar carried away. Jack told us the pirates thought they had a soft
thing on, as we seemed so undecided what to do, and that we could not
have adopted a better move than we did. 'There is nothing frightens
them like panic, and I played up to it as near as I could; but, by
thunder! I played a high game. I stood to be shot by either you or my
Christian friends,' said Jack; 'and upon my soul I feel that I have
played them a dirty trick.' 'Not a bit of it,' said I. 'You have done
your country, and especially us, a great service by helping to rid the
world of a few murderous thieves and cunning assassins.'
"'Oh, damn it!' interjected Jack, 'I cannot allow you to call us such
villanous names as that. My late friends considered their trade quite
as honourable as yours. They knew that they were breaking the law by
carrying on a game of what is called pillage or brigandage at sea; but
then they thought the law was all wrong, and that it was unlawful to
enforce such restrictions, or put any penalty on freedom of action.
And, by Jove! their arguments were almost convincing; especially when
we had to fight for what we wanted, and got wounded.'
"'I see that you have got scars on your cheek and hands. Were they
received by encounter with some ship's crew?'
"'Yes,' said Jack, 'but not my own countrymen. It was a deadly fight.'
And then he became pensive. I could see his mind was working, but he
refused to be drawn into further conversation; and from that day to
this I have not been able to get anything more out of him on that
score. Though when he is in the mood, he relates the comical side of
the sea-rovers' life in a most fascinating way, and frankly admits the
better side to have a charm about it that only those who have lived the
life can know. 'But,' he would add, 'I would rather stand here and ask
that I might be shot if I thought there was any possibility of ever
becoming one of them again. On the criminal side it resembles hell's
tatterdemalions let loose. To call them thieves and murderers is to
flatter them. Their vicious scoundrelism transcends either murder or
thieving.'"
The hero of this sensational story was a well-built young fellow of
twenty-three or twenty-four years old; he stood about five feet nine,
and had the appearance of being possessed of great physical power; his
cleanshaven face disclosed a beautiful mouth and two fine rows of
teeth; his chin and nose indicated robust strength of character, and
his large blue eyes, sparkling under well-formed eyebrows and a massive
forehead, both spoke and laughed in a fascinating way while his tongue
was speechless. In short, he was a good-looking, typical sailor, whose
natural gifts made him popular and much sought after to amuse his
comrades by doing a step-dance, telling a funny yarn, singing a comic
song, or he would entertain them by reading from a book.
"I have told this tale at your own request, captain," said the second
officer. "My main object has been not only to interest you, but to
inform you of the dangers that may be expected in navigating these
piratical waters. And I have been asked by Curly to warn you against
hugging the land. He advises keeping well in mid-channel, as you are
more likely to carry a true wind; and if any of the rovers should make
their appearance and attempt pursuit, he says the thing that would
terrify them most would be to shape at running them down; but if that
course is adopted it must not be done in a halfhearted way. There
should be no first-you-will and then-you-won't policy. Nothing but a
daring, unfaltering attitude directed fair for the amidships can be
effectual. They fear the loss of their vessel more than the disablement
of a few men; and the leader of the band fears as much as anything the
creation of panic amongst his followers. Damage to the running down
vessel must be counted upon, but it must be arranged so that the other
gets hit so badly that, instead of fighting they have to swim for their
lives or plead for mercy. Curly informs me this is their prowling time,
and they may be expected to pop out from any of the islands as we pass
along."
Captain Macvie was much impressed, and thanked his second officer for
relating to him a story so full of keen interest and useful
information.
"You may rely on the facts being correct," said Mr Robb, "but should
you have any doubts as to the authenticity of some of the things I have
been talking to you about, reserve your final judgement, because it is
pretty certain that you won't be long in this trade until you find out
I have not exaggerated one single incident, and that there are
gentlemen cruising in these waters who claim a law unto themselves, and
who make a speciality of brigandage and murder. I understand from Curly
that many of them are educated and well-bred, and that it is the love
of adventure that causes that section of them to take to the life. They
are adepts at playing the double role of society person and murderous
buccaneer. In both capacities they are fascinating, and really
irresistible at a ball or a dinner-party; so much so, indeed, that it
is not an uncommon thing for young ladies of gentle birth to become
their wives, and in exceptional cases share their adventures."
"Oh," said Captain Macvie, "you must not suppose that I doubt the truth
of what you have related to me. I think it quite possible, and we must
be prepared to cope with any sudden emergency of a similar character. I
must now bid you good-night. You will find instructions in the night
order book. I do not wish to be disturbed unless something unusual
occurs."
Right through the night the _Boadicea_ romped along at the rate of
ten knots an hour, and when the captain came on deck at eight o'clock
the following morning she was flying through the Cerigo passage under
double-reefed topsails and courses.
"There is no fear of any pirates troubling us if this continues,"
remarked the captain.
"Not any," responded the chief mate, "and I think we shall have more of
it before we have less. You won't be able to carry this press of canvas
after passing Andros. We will have the wind more on the port quarter,
and she will bury herself after opening the AEgean Sea."
"Very well," said Macvie in an angry tone, "let her bury herself; and
in order that her qualities may be tested before we reach this
wonderful sea of yours, let the reefs out of the topsails and masthead
them. I desire you to know, Mr Scrivener, that I shall be the judge
when to shorten sail and when to set it. Do you imagine, sir, because I
only commanded a collier before coming here that I do not know my
business? Please remember that I am master of this craft, not you."
This was a crushing rebuke for the mate, and he resolved that if the
masts were going over the side he would never make another suggestion
while his chief was on deck. The additional canvas did not improve
matters, as her flat bows sent the sea churning angrily ahead, and the
spray flew all over her in smothering clouds. Mr Scrivener was secretly
glad that she was "making such a mess of herself," as he called it, but
he did not deem it prudent to say so to his captain. But, as he
afterwards said, it was not necessary to do this, for he saw the
skipper was thinking hard enough himself, though he was too proud to
own it, and would have seen the masts go by the board rather than show
weakness in shortening sail after what had passed. This freak, however,
kept him on deck all day and all night, for there was no abatement of
either wind or sea, until she was swept into the Dardanelles. The sail
had to be shortened so that she might be hove to, and the boat sent
ashore at Chanak to receive pratique and a permit to allow her to pass
through into the sea of Marmora. Many an expensive salvage case and
many a life has been lost through this barbarous system. It is the
worst part of the channel for erratic currents, and notwithstanding the
disasters to life and property, it has only been possible to establish
a steam launch there during the last twelve months. As soon as the boat
returned with the clearance she was hoisted up, and the vessel headed
on her course through the straits. The west wind blew through the
narrow passage with screaming gusts, and the volley of water was
churned into flying foam as she rushed along under a heavy press of
sail; for the young commander was bent on letting his officers and men
see that he knew how to crack on without losing his head, and the
average sailor rejoices in being able to say that he has sailed with a
man who was "a slogger." On the other hand, I have more than once seen
a whole crew come aft and ask the captain to reduce the sail when the
vessel was burying herself and the spars and sails were in danger of
being carried away; and I have more than once seen deputations of this
sort sent about their business, followed by a wrathful flow of
well-selected oaths that are only used by persons who have a very
resourceful vocabulary. It is not an uncommon thing for men to grumble
and refuse to go aloft and furl a royal or topgallant sail when it has
been carried too long; and I have seen the captain spring up the
rigging and appeal to their manliness to follow him. This challenge
rarely fails to bring forth volunteers, and those who lag behind have
been the cause of bringing torrents of wickedness into the world.
Captain Macvie was not a man who swore. He was more inclined to adhere
to his rigid Presbyterian training by quoting a psalm or a proverb to
emphasise displeasure or convey a rebuke. His officers did not
comprehend how he could be so unemotional and yet throw so much energy
and dash into the navigation of his vessel. Externally he was cool,
reticent, authoritative. He gave orders peremptorily, without
hesitation; and both officers and sailors like to feel that they have a
strong personality commanding them. The first and second mate had
formed an impression, owing to their captain never having been in these
regions before, that he would frequently have to appeal to them for
information and advice, and they were almost chagrined when they found
that he never once showed any indication of asking for information. But
what caused them to marvel was the masterful way in which he handled
his vessel, and navigated her not only through amongst the islands, but
through a narrow waterway that he had never seen before. The first
officer ventured to make a suggestion, when drawing towards Chanak, as
to the method of heaving the vessel to, so that the boat might be
picked up easily. The captain retorted with almost oriental dignity.
"Sir," said he, "when I was asked to take command of this vessel I did
not consent until I was perfectly assured of its being within the limit
of my capacity to do so, and it has not yet occurred to me that I am
incapable of carrying out what I undertook to do unaided by anyone.
Please do not think me angry with you. I only wish to say that you may
rely on my making use of your wide knowledge and experience when I find
my capacity defective. But not having realized that yet, I prefer to
depend on my own tactics in all that appertains to the navigation and
handling of the ship I have the honour to command."
The mate received this piece of information in subdued silence. It took
him all aback. He had not taken the trouble to ascertain whether there
was force and ability behind his chief's placid, silent exterior, and
the lesson he received was salutary and lasting. He watched with a
critical eye the management and navigation as the _Boadicea_ was
pressed through the stream past Gallipoli into the sea of Marmora, and
admitted to the second mate that but for the excessive carrying on
there was no flaw to be found.
"Indeed," said he, "I am beginning to see that we have got our master
here in everything. I'm sure he is a gentleman, and I wouldn't be
surprised to find that he's a sailor as well."
The following night the wind had fallen away to a gentle breeze. The
vessel was sailed close past San Stephano, and soon came within range
of that weird sepulchral cry of the Turk for the return of their
prophet Mahomet. I know what it is like, for I have often stood on deck
and listened to the melancholy wailing call of scores of voices
appealing to their God, and filling the air with thrilling pathos,
until I have been stricken with a sense of sadness myself, which caused
me to envy the devotion of the people whom we, who call ourselves
Christians, deride. Macvie was greatly touched by the sombre wail that
was wafted over the glassy waters, and for a brief moment it took his
thoughts to the old home of prayer and saintly song, and made him
wonder whether the God to whom these people were calling could also be
his. But he had no time to ponder over eternal things. His vessel was
slipping towards the anchorage at Scutari. A suitable berth was picked,
the anchor dropped, sails furled, and then the captain's gig was made
ready by her crew, who were ordered to wash and dress themselves in
white ducks and blue jerseys, the latter having the name of the vessel
in front. All being ready, the master stepped into the boat and was
rowed in regal style to a landing in the Golden Horn. He was met there
by an agent, who informed him that he knew the stores were much needed
in the Crimea, but no official instructions having been given, he would
have to remain at anchor until they came.
"But don't you think," said the captain, "it would be as well for me to
proceed off Sevastopol or Kertch, and see if they really are in need of
the supplies I have on board?"
"My dear fellow," replied the agent, "you must never think of doing
such a thing. It would be deemed a breach of the rules of the service,
and you might be court-martialled and lose a splendid charter for doing
so. Take my advice: lie where you are until red-tapeism finds out that
the wares you are carrying for Government account are needed. You can
make use of the time by putting your vessel in good order. It may be
months before they come to your turn, and until they precisely come to
it, you may rely on hearing nothing from them. Departmental methods are
very exact. You must never be donkey enough to interfere with an
ancient order of things: it might throw the machinery of uniformity
into chaos. Of course I know you will say, 'That is all very excellent:
but what about the poor, ill-fed, ill-clad, fever-stricken soldiers? Is
it right that I should be an accomplice in this dreadful crime?' For
God's sake, captain, leave off thinking like that, or it will harrow
your soul out of its casing; look at things from the broad, brainless
point of view of your mechanical employers who do everything by
routine. Go on board and order your sails to be unbent and put into the
sail cabin, for as sure as I am talking to you now, they will not be
needed for months."
"Will they not have heard at home of the distress in the army?"
interjected Captain Macvie.
"Why, yes, captain," said the versatile agent; "but, my dear fellow, do
try to get it into your head that these things have to go through many
intricate stages. First, the trouble which ought to have been foreseen
takes place; then weeks are occupied in transfixed amazement without
doing anything; then a council is held to consider why these breakdowns
should happen; and the conclusion arrived at is that they should never
have happened, therefore they have not taken place, and it is resolved
to await further developments before doing anything more. How is it
possible for the British army to have sickness in its ranks when we
have thought of sending out medicine? And how can they be without food
and clothes when we have given orders to our contractors to have these
supplied? It is a malicious libel to assert such things, to say nothing
of the lack of commonsense in supposing that the commissariat
department does not know its own business."
"Well," said the captain, "I must admit you seem to know the inner
workings of these Government concerns."
"I should just think I do," said the agent; "but of course we have to
speak with some regard to discretion. I am only giving you a tip or two
to keep you right. You will be going off aboard, so I will say
'good-day.' Come ashore to-morrow."
The captain had many opportunities of hearing from this voluble person
of the magnificent mismanagement shown by the way the transports were
kicking about in different parts of the Bosphorus and in the Black Sea.
Many of them would sail to Kertch or Sevastopol and come straight back
without their cargoes being broached. They anchored in a snug spot
where the shore was easy of access, and would remain for months in
peaceful indolence. The _Boadicea_ had been dismantled, and her anchor
was never seen for six months. How the men were to be kept employed
became a tax on the resources of the officers. Her sails, ropes and
rigging had been thoroughly overhauled, repaired and made equal to new,
and the hull showed indications of great taste and care. Not a speck of
dirt or disorder could be seen anywhere; and notwithstanding the jolly
entertainments, vocal and otherwise, they had on board each others'
vessels almost every night, the life of inactivity became so dreary
that they longed for the time when orders would be given to proceed to
the Crimea. It was not mere change they longed for, but they craved to
see the fighting on shore, and, better still, the bombardment of towns
and ports by the warships from the sea. Many of the merchant sailors
would have enjoyed taking part in the struggle.
Although the life at the Scutari anchorage had become a weary monotony,
it was not without incidents of excitement. Constantinople at that time
was overrun with the most daring brigands, who paid irregular visits to
the different roadsteads between midnight and the early hours of the
morning. They were armed with the most deadly weapons, and their secret
movements frequently evaded every precaution of watchfulness. The
sneaking caique, manned by accomplished emissaries handling muffled
oars, was rowed through the anchorage in advance, and for the purpose
of finding out the most vulnerable object of attack. Occasionally they
selected the wrong ship, and met with a sudden determined resistance
from the crew, who were eager for an opportunity of wreaking vengeance
on a gang of murderous ruffians who kept the men of the whole
mercantile fleet in these waters in a state of perpetual expectancy.
Most ingenious methods were planned for their destruction. An anchor,
for instance, would be hanging to the rail of the topgallant
forecastle, or the cathead, and, as the caique came dropping down with
the current, if they drifted her under the bow, the stopper and
shankpainter was let go simultaneously, and the anchor landed on their
heads and then through the bottom of the boat. Nothing more was ever
seen of that batch! Another plan was to drop large stones or pieces of
heavy iron into the frail craft; and in that case also no more was ever
heard from them. These chances seldom came, however, as they were a
wily lot, who nearly always made sure of their ground before embarking
on a hazardous expedition. The crews of vessels were warned to keep a
vigilant lookout, and sometimes the anchor watch succeeded in giving
the alarm in time to frustrate a boarding.
But even this, and the open encounters that occurred, became a very
monotonous business to a large number of crews. They were itching for
some other sensation to be put into their lives, and they had moods of
gloomy forebodings that the great war would be ended without their
being able to say that they had seen anything of it; and, in fact, many
of them never did, and it is fair to say some never wanted to. Poor
Captain Wilkins of the _Seaflower_ and his crew were among the latter.
The captain was a highly religious person who had imbued his men with
anti-war proclivities. He had a simple faith in the righteousness of
making large profits in consequence of the war, but never failed to
proclaim the originators of it as a gang of unholy rascals. His faith
had become strong in the belief that the robber was destined never to
set foot on the _Seaflower's_ decks. She had been lying there for
several months without ever having been interfered with. Captain
Wilkins was not unduly sympathetic when he heard of any neighbouring
vessel being pillaged during the night. In fact, he became so impressed
with his own virtue that he frequently fell into the error of speaking
contemptuously of his less fortunate brethren. Captain Macvie had
warned him against indulging in self-righteousness, and never to pin
his faith on immunity from attack.
"It may come," said he, "when you least expect it; and in order that
you may cultivate a more generous spirit towards your neighbours when
misfortune befalls them, always keep in mind the proverb: 'Rejoice not
when thine enemy falleth, and let not thine heart be glad when he
stumbleth, lest the Lord see it and it displease Him.' These are words
that ought to be burnt into our minds and hearts."
"Yes," said Wilkins, "I appreciate your goodness in quoting them. They
have reminded me that I have not been sufficiently charitable in
judging others, while I have been at the same time professing to have
the spirit of the great Redeemer."