“There’s no doubt about it,” said the night watchman, “but what
dissipline’s a very good thing, but it don’t always act well. For
instance, I ain’t allowed to smoke on this wharf, so when I want a pipe
I either ’ave to go over to the ‘Queen’s ’ed,’ or sit in a lighter. If
I’m in the ‘Queen’s ’ed’ I can’t look arter the wharf, an’ once when I
was sitting in a lighter smoking the chap come aboard an’ cast off
afore I knew what he was doing, an’ took me all the way to Greenwich.
He said he’d often played that trick on watchmen.
“The worst man for dissipline I ever shipped with was Cap’n Tasker, of
the _Lapwing_. He’d got it on the brain bad. He was a prim,
clean-shaved man except for a little side-whisker, an’ always used to
try an’ look as much like a naval officer as possible.
“I never ’ad no sort of idea what he was like when I jined the ship,
an’ he was quite quiet and peaceable until we was out in the open
water. Then the cloven hoof showed itself, an’ he kicked one o’ the men
for coming on deck with a dirty face, an’ though the man told him he
never did wash becos his skin was so delikit, he sent the bos’en to
turn the hose on him.
“The bos’en seemed to take a hand in everything. We used to do
everything by his whistle, it was never out of his mouth scarcely, and
I’ve known that man to dream of it o’ nights, and sit up in his sleep
an’ try an’ blow his thumb. He whistled us to swab decks, whistled us
to grub, whistled us to every blessed thing.
“Though we didn’t belong to any reg’ler line, we’d got a lot o’
passengers aboard, going to the Cape, an’ they thought a deal o’ the
skipper. There was one young leftenant aboard who said he reminded him
o’ Nelson, an’ him an’ the skipper was as thick as two thieves. Nice
larky young chap he was, an’ more than one o’ the crew tried to drop
things on him from aloft when he wasn’t looking.
“Every morning at ten we was inspected by the skipper, but that wasn’t
enough for the leftenant, and he persuaded the old man to drill us. He
said it would do us good an’ amuse the passengers, an’ we ’ad to do all
sorts of silly things with our arms an’ legs, an’ twice he walked the
skipper to the other end of the ship, leaving twenty-three sailor-men
bending over touching their toes, an’ wondering whether they’d ever
stand straight again.
“The very worst thing o’ the lot was the boat-drill. A chap might be
sitting comfortable at his grub, or having a pipe in his bunk, when the
bos’en’s whistle would scream out to him that the ship was sinking, an’
the passengers drownding, and he was to come an’ git the boats out an’
save ’em. Nice sort o’ game it was too. We had to run like mad with
kegs o’ water an’ bags o’ biscuit, an’ then run the boats out an’
launch ’em. All the men were told off to certain boats, an’ the
passengers too. The only difference was, if a passenger didn’t care
about taking a hand in the game he didn’t, but we had to.
“One o’ the passengers who didn’t play was Major Miggens. He was very
much agin it, an’ called it tomfoolery; he never would go to his boat,
but used to sit and sneer all the time.
“‘It’s only teaching the men to cut an’ run,’ he said to the skipper
one day; ‘if there ever was any need they’d run to the boats an’ leave
us here. Don’t tell me.’
“‘That’s not the way I should ha’ expected to hear you speak of British
sailors, major,’ ses the skipper rather huffy.
“‘British _swearers_,’ ses the major, sniffing. ‘You don’t hear their
remarks when that whistle is blown. It’s enough to bring a judgment on
the ship.’
“‘If you can point ’em out to me I’ll punish ’em,’ says the skipper
very warm.
“‘I’m not going to point ’em out,’ ses the major. ‘I symperthise with
’em too much. They don’t get any of their beauty sleep, pore chaps, an’
they want it, every one of ’em.’
“I thought that was a very kind remark o’ the major to make, but o’
course some of the wimmin larfed. I s’pose they think men don’t want
beauty sleep, as it’s called.
“I heard the leftenant symperthising with the skipper arter that. He
said the major was simply jealous because the men drilled so
beautifully, an’ then they walked aft, the leftenant talking very
earnest an’ the skipper shaking his head at something he was saying.
“It was just two nights arter this. I’d gone below an’ turned in when I
began to dream that the major had borrowed the bos’en’s whistle an’ was
practising on it. I remember thinking in my sleep what a comfort it was
it was only the major, when one of the chaps give me a dig in the back
an’ woke me.
“‘Tumble up,’ ses he, ‘the ship’s afire.’
“I rushed up on deck, an’ there was no mistake about who was blowing
the whistle. The bell was jangling horrible, smoke was rolling up from
the hatches, an’ some o’ the men was dragging out the hose an’ tripping
up the passengers with it as they came running up on deck. The noise
and confusion was fearful.
“‘Out with the boats,’ ses Tom Hall to me, ‘don’t you hear the
whistle?’
“‘What, ain’t we going to try an’ put the fire out?’ I ses.
“‘Obey orders,’ ses Tom, ‘that’s what we’ve got to do, an’ the sooner
we’re away the better. You know what’s in her.’
“We ran to the boats then, an’, I must say, we got ’em out well, and
the very fust person to git into mine was the major in his piejammers;
arter all the others was in we ’ad ’im out agin. He didn’t belong to
our boat, an’ dissipline is dissipline any day.
“Afore we could git clear o’ the ship, however, he came yelling to the
side an’ said _his_ boat had gone, an’ though we prodded him with our
oars he lowered himself over the side and dropped in.
“Fortunately for us it was a lovely clear night; there was no moon, but
the stars were very bright. The engines had stopped, an’ the old ship
sat on the water scarcely moving. Another boat was bumping up against
ours, and two more came creeping round the bows from the port side an’
jined us.
“‘Who’s in command?’ calls out the major.
“‘I am,’ ses the first mate very sharp-like from one of the boats.
“‘Where’s the cap’n then?’ called out an old lady from my boat, o’ the
name o’ Prendergast.’
“‘He’s standing by the ship,’ ses the mate.
“‘Doing _what?_’ ses Mrs. Prendergast, looking at the water as though
she expected to see the skipper standing there.
“‘He’s going down with the ship,’ ses one o’ the chaps.
“Then Mrs. Prendergast asked somebody to be kind enough to lend her a
handkerchief, becos she had left her pocket behind aboard ship, and
began to sob very bitter.
“‘Just a simple British sailor,’ ses she, snivelling, ‘going down with
his ship. There he is. Look! On the bridge.’
“We all looked, an’ then some o’ the other wimmin wanted to borrer
handkerchiefs. I lent one of ’em a little cotton waste, but she was so
unpleasant about its being a trifle oily that she forgot all about
crying, and said she’d tell the mate about me as soon as ever we got
ashore.
“‘I’ll remember him in my prayers,’ ses one o’ the wimmin who was
crying comfortable in a big red bandana belonging to one o’ the men.
“‘All England shall ring with his deed,’ ses another.
“‘Sympathy’s cheap,’ ses one of the men passengers solemnly. ‘If we
ever reach land we must all band together to keep his widow an’
orphans.’
“‘Hear, hear,’ cries everybody.
“‘And we’ll put up a granite tombstone to his memory,’ ses Mrs.
Prendergast.
“‘S’pose we pull back to the ship an’ take him off,’ ses a gentleman
from another boat. ‘I’m thinking it ’ud come cheaper, an’ perhaps the
puir mon would really like it better himself.’
“‘Shame,’ ses most of ’em; an’ I reely b’leeve they’d worked
theirselves up to that pitch they’d ha’ felt disapponted if the skipper
had been saved.
“We pulled along slowly, the mate’s boat leading, looking back every
now and then at the old ship, and wondering when she would go off, for
she’d got that sort o’ stuff in her hold which ’ud send her up with a
bang as soon as the fire got to it; an’ we was all waiting for the
shock.
“‘Do you know where we’re going, Mr. Bunce?’ calls out the major.
“‘Yes,’ ses the mate.
“‘What’s the nearest land?’ asks the major.
“’Bout a thousand miles,’ ses the mate.
“Then the major went into figgers, an’ worked out that it ’ud take us
about ten days to reach land and three to reach the bottom o’ the water
kegs. He shouted that out to the mate; an’ the young leftenant what was
in the mate’s boat smoking a big cigar said there’d be quite a run on
granite tombstones. He said it was a blessed thing he had disinherited
his children for marrying agin his wishes, so there wouldn’t be any
orphans left to mourn for him.
“Some o’ the wimmin smiled a little at this, an’ old Mrs. Prendergast
shook so that she made the boat rock. We got quite cheerful somehow,
and one of the other men spoke up and said that owing to his only
having reckoned two pints to the gallon, the major’s figgers wasn’t to
be relied upon.
“We got more cheerful then, and we was beginning to look on it as just
a picnic, when I’m blest if the mate’s boat didn’t put about and head
for the ship agin.
“There was a commotion then if you like, everybody talking and laughing
at once; and Mrs. Prendergast said that such a thing as one
single-handed cap’n staying behind to go down with his ship, and then
putting the fire out all by himself after his men had fled, had never
been heard of before, an’ she believed it never would be again. She
said he must be terribly burnt, and he’d have to be put to bed and
wrapped up in oily rags.
“It didn’t take us long to get aboard agin, and the ladies fairly
mobbed the skipper. Tom Hall swore as ’ow Mrs. Prendergast tried to
kiss him, an’ the fuss they made of him was ridiculous. I heard the
clang of the telegraph in the engine-room soon as the boats was hoisted
up, the engines started, and off we went again.
“‘Speech,’ yells out somebody. ‘Speech.’
“‘Bravo!’ ses the others. ‘Bravo!”
“Then the skipper stood up an’ made ’em a nice little speech. First of
all he thanked ’em for their partiality and kindness shown to him, and
the orderly way in which they had left the ship. He said it reflected
credit on all concerned, crew and passengers, an’ no doubt they’d be
surprised when he told them that there hadn’t been any fire at all, but
that it was just a test to make sure that the boat drill was properly
understood.
“He was quite right about them being surprised. Noisy, too, they was,
an’ the things they said about the man they’d just been wanting to give
granite tombstones to was simply astonishing. It would have taken a
whole cemetery o’ tombstones to put down all they said about him, and
then they’d ha’ had to cut the letters small.
“I vote we have an indignation meeting in the saloon to record our
disgust at the cap’n’s behaviour,’ ses the major fiercely. ‘I beg to
propose that Mr. Macpherson take the chair.’
“‘I second that,’ ses another, fierce-like.
“‘I beg to propose the major instead,’ ses somebody else in a heasy
off-hand sort o’ way; ‘Mr. Macpherson’s boat not having come back yet.’
“At first everybody thought he was joking, but when they found he was
really speaking the truth the excitement was awful. Fortunately, as
Mrs. Prendergast remarked, there was no ladies in the boat, but there
was several men passengers. We were doing a good thirteen knots an
hour, but we brought up at once, an’ then we ’ad the most lovely
firework display I ever see aboard ship in my life. Blue lights and
rockets and guns going all night, while we cruised slowly about, and
the passengers sat on deck arguing as to whether the skipper would be
hung or only imprisoned for life.
“It was daybreak afore we sighted them, just a little speck near the
sky-line, an’ we bore down on them for all we was worth. Half an hour
later they was alongside, an’ of all the chilly, miserable-looking men
I ever see they was the worst.
“They had to be helped up the side a’most, and they was so grateful it
was quite affecting, until the true state o’ things was explained to
them. It seemed to change ’em wonderful, an’ after Mr. Macpherson had
had three cups o’ hot coffee an’ four glasses o’ brandy he took the
chair at the indignation meeting, an’ went straight off to sleep in it.
They woke him up three times, but he was so cross about it that the
ladies had to go away an’ the meeting was adjourned.
“I don’t think it ever came to much after all, nobody being really
hurt, an’ the skipper being so much upset they felt sort o’ sorry for
’im.
“The rest of the passage was very quiet an’ comfortable, but o’ course
it all came out at the other end, an’ the mate brought the ship home.
Some o’ the chaps said the skipper was a bit wrong in the ’ed, and,
while I’m not gainsaying that, it’s my firm opinion that he was
persuaded to do what he did by that young leftenant. As I said afore,
he was a larky young chap, an’ very fond of a joke if he didn’t have to
pay for it.”