A DAY AT CHRISTIANSAND.
"But, madam, your steamer seems to be on the point of starting,"
suggested Mr. Lowington, as the Orlando rang her bell, and whistled
violently.
"I cannot help it," replied the lady, apparently taking no notice of
the steamer. "I came over here on a pleasure excursion, and now I feel
as though I had lost my son."
"Lost him, madam! We intend to save him," laughed Mr. Lowington. "But
we have no claim upon him. If you desire to leave in the steamer, the
boatswain shall put the boy on board whether he is willing or not."
"No, no; that would be very, _very_ harsh. Let the steamer go. This
matter is of vastly more consequence than going to Christiania.
James," she added, turning to the man in livery, "you will take the
boat, get our baggage from the steamer, and take it to the hotel on
shore."
"Yes, mem," replied James, as he very deliberately went over the side
into the boat.
"This will be a sad day to me, sir," continued Mrs. Blacklock, as she
glanced at her son, who was whistling an air from the last opera, as
indifferent as though his mother had been at peace in her own
drawing-room.
"I beg to repeat, madam, that I have not the slightest wish to take
your son into this institution."
"But Clyde insists upon joining the ship, and what can I do?"
"You can say no, if you please."
"You had better not say it, mother; if you do, I will run away, and go
to sea in a merchant ship," added Clyde, shaking his head.
"You hear, sir, what he says," replied Mrs. Blacklock, with a long and
deep sigh.
"That would be the very best thing in the world for a boy troubled
with his complaint," answered Mr. Lowington.
"I have no complaint; I'm not sick," growled Clyde.
"I'm afraid you are, my boy, though you don't know it. The most
dangerous maladies often make great progress even before their
existence is suspected."
"Nothing ails me," added Clyde.
"This seems to be a very nice ship, and you say the students are all
gentlemen," continued the lady, glancing around her at the ship and
the crew. "If Clyde must go to sea--"
"I must, mother," interposed the young gentleman, very decidedly.
"If he must go to sea, he had better go with you, sir."
"If you will walk into the cabin, madam, I will show you our
regulations," said the principal, leading the way down the steps.
Clyde followed, apparently unwilling that a word should be said which
he could not hear.
"I want to speak with your mother alone," interposed Mr. Lowington.
"I'm going too," persisted Clyde, after Mrs. Blacklock had descended
the stairs.
"I prefer to see your mother alone," added the principal, firmly.
"You are going to talk about me, and I want to hear what is said,"
replied the youth, rudely.
"Peaks, remain here," said the principal to the big boatswain, who had
followed them to the companionway.
Mr. Lowington descended the steps, and Peaks slipped in behind him,
fully understanding his duty without any explanations. Clyde attempted
to follow, but the entrance was effectually blockaded by the stalwart
forward officer.
"Get out of my way; I want to go down there," said Clyde, in no gentle
tones.
"It can't be done, my hearty," replied Peaks.
"I'm going down, any way."
"I think not, my little gentleman."
"Yes, I am! Get out of my way."
"Ease off, my hearty. Don't get up a squall."
"I want to see my mother," growled Clyde.
"You were not invited to the cabin, and your mother was," answered
Peaks, very mildly.
"I don't care if I wasn't; I'm going down."
"So you said before;" and the boatswain tried to pacify the youngster,
and to induce him to be reasonable; but Clyde had always had his own
way, and was ready to fight for it now, even though he had nothing to
gain by it.
Captain Cumberland was still walking with Miss Celia, explaining to
her the nature of the discipline on board, and giving her an account
of the voyage across the Atlantic. A group of the officers had
collected on the quarter-deck, and, much amused at the scene, were
observing the conduct of Clyde. As he became more violent, his sister
tried to quiet him, and induce him to behave like a gentleman; but he
replied to her in a tone and with words which made the captain's
cheeks tinge with indignation.
Finally, when he found that abuse had no effect upon the stout
boatswain, he drew back, and made a desperate plunge at his heavy
opponent. Peaks caught him by the shoulders, and lifted him off his
feet like a baby. Taking him in his arms, with one hand over his
mouth, to smother his cries, he bore him to the waist, where his yells
could not be heard by his mother.
"Be quiet, little one," said Peaks, as he seated himself on the
main-hatch, and twined his long legs around those of the prisoner, so
that he was held as fast as though he had been in the folds of an
anaconda. "Hold still, now, and I'll spin you a sea-yarn. Once on a
time there was a little boy that wanted to go to sea--"
"Let me go, or I'll kill you!" sputtered Clyde; but the boatswain
covered his mouth again, and silenced him.
"Kill me! That would be wicked. But I'm not a mosquito, to be cracked
in the fingers of such a dear little boy as you are. But you snapped
off my yarn; and if you don't hold still, I can't spin it ship-shape."
Clyde had well nigh exhausted his breath in his fruitless struggle,
and before his sister went far enough forward to see him, he was
tolerably calm, because he had no more strength to resist. Then the
boatswain told his story of a boy that wanted to go to sea, but found
that he could not have his own way on board the ship.
In the cabin, Mrs. Blacklock told a pitiful story of the wilfulness of
her son; that she was obliged to do just as he said, and if he wanted
anything, however absurd it might be, she was obliged to give it to
him, or he made the house too "hot" for her. Her husband had died when
the children were small, and the whole care of them had devolved on
her. Clyde had made her miserable for several years. She had sent
him to several celebrated schools; but he had got into trouble
immediately, and she had been compelled to take him away, to prevent
him from killing himself and her, as she expressed it. Her husband had
left her a handsome property, but she was afraid her son would spend
it all, or compel her to do so, before he became of age.
Mr. Lowington repeated only what most of her friends had told her
before--that her weak indulgence would be the ruin of the boy; that he
needed a strong arm. He was willing to take him into the Academy ship,
but he must obey all the rules and follow all the regulations. The
perplexed mother realized the truth of all he said.
"You will take him as an officer--won't you, sir?" she asked, when
she had in a measure reconciled herself to the discipline proposed.
"Certainly not, madam," replied the principal. "If he ever becomes an
officer, he must work himself up to that position, as the other
students do."
"But you could let him have one of the rooms in the cabin. I am
willing to pay extra for his tuition."
"No, madam; he must go with the other students, and do precisely as
they do."
"Where will his servant lodge?"
"His servant?"
"Yes, James. He will want a servant, for I don't know that he ever
dressed himself alone."
"He can have no servant, except those of the ship."
"That's very, _very_ hard."
"Perhaps it is, but if the boy can't dress himself alone, he must lie
in his berth till he acquires the art by hard thinking. I wish you to
understand the matter thoroughly before you leave him, madam."
Mrs. Blacklock struggled with the hard terms; but even to her the case
seemed like a desperate one, and she was willing at last to try the
experiment, though she intended to follow the ship wherever she went,
to save him from suicide when his situation became absolutely
hopeless. The terms arranged, she followed Mr. Lowington on deck,
where Clyde was discovered in the loving embrace of the big boatswain,
who released him as soon as he saw the lady.
"Now, Clyde, my dear, we have arranged it all," said Mrs. Blacklock;
and it ought to be added that such a result would have been utterly
impossible if the subject of the negotiations had been present.
"I don't care if you have," replied Clyde, bestowing a fiery glance
upon the boatswain, who was smiling as blandly as though earth had no
naughty boys.
"Why, what's the matter, Clyde!" demanded the anxious mother.
"I've had enough of this ship," howled the little gentleman, as he
glanced again at the stout forward officer.
The complacent face of Peaks maddened him, and Clyde felt that,
perhaps for the first time in his life, he had lost a battle. He could
not bear the sight of the boatswain's placid features, unruffled by
anything like anger or malice. He felt that he had not even provoked
his powerful adversary. He howled in his anger, and then he cried in
his desperation. Suddenly he seized a wooden belaying-pin from the
rail, and shied it at the boatswain's head. Peaks caught it in his
hand, as though he had been playing toss-ball with his victim; but the
next instant his anaconda fold encircled the youth again. Mrs.
Blacklock screamed with terror.
"There is no harm done, madam," interposed the principal. "We don't
allow boys to throw things here."
"You are very, _very_ harsh with the poor boy."
"And the poor boy is very, very harsh with us. He throws belaying-pins
at our heads."
"He did not mean any harm."
"Perhaps not; but that's an unpleasant way of manifesting his regard."
"I've had enough of this ship! I won't go in her!" howled Clyde,
struggling to escape from the grasp of the officer.
"Do you hear that, sir? Poor boy!"
"He will soon learn better than to behave in this violent manner. We
can cure him in ten minutes after you have left the ship."
"What! whip him?" exclaimed the mother, with horror.
"No, madam; we never strike a student under any circumstances, unless
it be in self-defence; but if a boy won't go when ordered, we carry
him. We always have force enough to do this without injury to the
person."
"But see the poor boy struggle!"
"It will do him no harm."
"He says now that he will not go in the ship."
"If I were his parent, it would be as I said, not as he said, after he
had ceased to be reasonable. I would consult the wishes and opinions
of a boy of mine, as long as he behaved properly--no longer. You have
only to leave him, and I assure you he shall be treated as kindly as
he will permit us to treat him. I do not wish to influence you, but I
am confident that ruin lies in that boy's path, unless he is
reformed."
Mrs. Blacklock actually wept. She loved the boy with a blind affection
in spite of the disrespect and even abuse that he heaped upon her. It
was a terrible struggle to her, but she finally decided to leave him
on board of the ship, perhaps satisfied that nothing else could ever
save him from himself, and her from the misery his reckless conduct
constantly occasioned her.
"You wished to go to sea, Clyde, and I have decided to leave you in
this ship," said the poor mother, trembling with emotion.
"But I tell you I won't stay in this ship," roared Clyde, as Peaks, at
a signal from the principal, released his prisoner.
"I can do nothing with you, my dear boy. You won't obey me, and I must
leave you to those who can control you. I am going on shore now, but I
shall see you again at Christiania."
"I won't stay!" howled Clyde.
"Good by, Clyde," said Mrs. Blacklock, desperately, as she folded her
son in her arms, and kissed him on both cheeks.
"I tell you I won't stay!" cried the angry youth, breaking away from
his mother's embrace.
"Make it short, madam," suggested Mr. Lowington.
"Do try to be good, Clyde, and then you can come home very, _very_
soon," added Mrs. Blacklock, as the principal conducted her to the
accommodation ladder, where the first cutter had been manned to put
her on shore.
"I tell you again, I won't stay! If you leave me, I'll jump
overboard."
"O!" groaned the weak mother.
"If you do, young man, we will pick you up with the greatest
pleasure," said Mr. Lowington, as he hurried the lady to the side.
"O, if he should!" gasped she.
"There is not a particle of danger, madam; Mr. Peaks will take
excellent care of him," replied her comforter.
The boatswain, at a nod from Mr. Lowington, again embraced Clyde, but
did not injure him, nor permit him to injure himself. The lady was
handed into the boat, and Captain Cumberland politely performed this
service for Miss Blacklock. Of course the poor mother was in an agony
of doubt and anxiety, but the students in the cutter seemed to be so
cheerful, contented and gentlemanly, that she hoped for the best.
Clyde was appalled at the situation, and one of the stern realities
of life seemed suddenly to dawn upon him. As soon as his mother
disappeared over the side, he ceased to struggle, for he gained
nothing by it, and the students appeared to be amused by his
sufferings. Peaks released him, and the victim of wholesome discipline
looked about him with a wondering stare; but there was no mother to
cajole or intimidate, and he was thrown entirely upon his own
resources for the means of resistance, if he purposed to resist. He
appeared to be stupefied by the situation, and Mr. Lowington, taking
advantage of his bewilderment, invited him into the main cabin, where
he kindly but firmly "laid down the law" to him. Clyde was by no means
conquered, but was rather considering how he should escape from this
trying position. At the close of the interview, the principal handed
the patient over to one of the stewards, and requested him to see the
new comer clothed in the uniform of the ship. Peaks was directed to
keep an eye on the victim while the crew were on shore.
All hands were soon seated in the boats, and in half an hour all
the students in the squadron were turned loose in the streets of
Christiansand. Though the instructors were of the party, they were not
required to exercise any particular supervision over their pupils.
There was hardly anything to be seen, and as a large number of the
students had never crossed the Atlantic before, they wanted to know if
they had come so far to see such a town. Most of the houses were of
wood, but they were neat and well kept. As the capital of the province
of Christiansand, the town was the residence of the Stift Amtmand, or
governor, and of the bishop of the diocese. It was founded in 1641,
and having an excellent harbor, it is a place of considerable
commercial importance, having a population of about ten thousand.
The boys visited the cathedral, which is a fine building of gray
stone, and being the first which most of them had seen, it had a
considerable interest to them. They observed the people, and their
manners and customs, so far as they could, with more interest than the
buildings, which differed in no important respect from those in the
United States. Passing across the water front of the town, they came
to the Torrisdal River, over which there is an excellent bridge. They
crossed the stream, and walked to an antiquated church. Some of the
houses on the way were very neat, pretty structures, not unlike the
one-story dwellings seen all over New England.
"Here's a Runic stone," said Dr. Winstock, as the captain and several
of the officers followed him into the burying-ground connected with
the ancient church.
"What is a Runic stone?" asked Lincoln, the third lieutenant.
"A stone with Runic characters upon it."
"I haven't the least idea what the word means, though Poe sings, in
the 'Bells,'----
'Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme!'
Runic is derived from a word which means secret; and a Runic stone
is any memorial, table, or column, on which Runic characters are
inscribed, as a tombstone, a boundary mark. There are sixteen of
these characters, forming an alphabet, which were used by the ancient
Scandinavians, and were thought by them to possess magical properties,
and willow wands inscribed with them were used by the pagans of the
north in their magic rites. Sticks were used as almanacs, to keep the
account of the days and months, and also constituted the day-books and
ledgers of the ancients. In Germany, in modern times, the baker, for
example, and the purchaser of bread, each had a stick, and the number
of loaves delivered was notched upon both. Scarcely less primitive was
the custom of some of our American farmers, who kept their accounts on
the barn door; and I have heard a story of one who, when required to
produce his books in court at a lawsuit, carried in the barn door, and
held it up before the judge and jury. In Denmark and Sweden you will
see more Runic writings, especially in the museum at Copenhagen."
"They seem to bury people here, in about the same manner as with us,"
said Captain Cumberland.
"There is not half so much difference between things here and those at
home as I expected to find," added Judson.
"The houses are almost the same, and so are the people," continued
Norwood.
"People coming to Europe are often disappointed because they find
almost everything so near like what they have been accustomed to,"
replied the doctor. "You will find Norway and Sweden more like New
England than any other countries on the continent. But I think you
will find differences enough to excite your interest and attention
before you return."
The students walked back to Christiansand, and having exhausted the
town, went on board the vessels of the squadron, ready and even
anxious to continue the voyage. The pilots were on deck, Paul Kendall
and lady had returned to the Grace, and the principal only waited the
arrival of the steamer Moss, from Frederiksvaern, to give the order to
get under way. The boats were all hoisted up except the first cutter,
which was to bring off the unfortunate crew of the professor's barge,
as soon as they arrived.
At eight o'clock the steamer came in, and the first cutter, with the
principal on board, hastened to her landing-place, to meet Sanford and
his companions. To his great astonishment and regret, they were not on
board of the Moss. The captain, who spoke English very well, knew
nothing about the absentees, and was quite confident they were not on
board of the Foldin, the boat which had picked them up. Captain Hoell
had said nothing to him about the accident, but then the Foldin had
arrived only that morning, instead of the night before, when she was
due, and their interview had been very hurried. "Did any person in the
Moss know anything about the unfortunates?" the captain was kind
enough to inquire; and a passenger was found who heard some one say
that a party of young men had been landed by the Foldin at Lillesand.
But the Moss had left Lillesand at six o'clock, and her captain had
not seen or heard of the persons described. Mr. Lowington was very
anxious about the fate of the second cutter's crew, and feared that
some of them had been injured by the collision, so that they were
unable to take the steamer back to Christiansand. He returned to the
cutter and pulled off to the Tritonia, and directed Mr. Tompion, the
second vice-principal, in charge of her, to run into Lillesand, and
ascertain what had become of the absentees. Without waiting for the
signal, the Tritonia got under way, and under full sail, with a fresh
breeze, stood out of the harbor. The other vessels followed her soon
after, the principal intending to lay off and on till the Tritonia
reported.
The ship had been searched from keel to truck for Ole Amundsen on the
day before. Of course he was not found, and the conclusion was that he
had dropped into the water and swam ashore, though it was difficult to
understand how he had accomplished the feat without detection.
Inquiries in regard to him were made on shore, but if any one knew
him, application was not made to the right persons.
Mr. Clyde Blacklock had not yet jumped overboard, and during the busy
scene of getting under way, he stood with his mouth agape, watching
the proceedings with wondering interest. He was not quite sure, after
his anger had subsided, that he had made a bad bargain. There was
something rather pleasant in the motion of the ship, and the zeal and
precision with which the students worked, showed that they enjoyed
their occupation. No one noticed Clyde, or even seemed to be aware
of his presence. Before, when he behaved in an extravagant and
unreasonable manner, the boys only laughed at him. They did not beg
him to be pacified, as his mother and James always did; on the
contrary they seemed to enjoy his chagrin.
As soon as the ship was under way, the new student was informed that
he belonged to the port watch, second part, and the silver star, which
designated his watch, was affixed to his left arm. He was told that he
would be called with the others to take his turn on deck during the
night.
"What am I to do?" he asked, rather blankly.
"Just the same as the others do?" replied De Forrest, the fourth
lieutenant, who had the deck with the second part of the port watch.
"I have your station bill."
"What's that?"
"It is a card on which all your duties are explained. Here it is,"
added De Forrest, producing the station bill. "You are No. 71; all the
even numbers belong to the starboard watch, and all the odd numbers to
the port."
These cards were all printed; for among the various amusements
provided for the students, a couple of octavo Novelty presses, with
a sufficient supply of type and other printing material had been
furnished. All the blanks for use in the ship were printed on board,
and the Oceanic Enterprise, a weekly Journal, had been regularly
issued during the voyage across the Atlantic, though a gale of wind,
which disturbed the equilibrium of the press and the printers, had
delayed its publication a couple of days on one occasion.
Clyde read the station bill which was handed to him by the officer,
but it would have been just as intelligible to him if it had been in
Runic character.
"'Reefing, main-topsail, and main-topsail halyards,'" said Clyde,
reading from the card. "What does all that mean?"
"You mind only what you have to do yourself, and not trouble your head
about orders that have nothing to do with your work; for the orders
come as thick as snow flakes at Christmas. When all hands are called
to reef topsails, you are one of them, of course. When any thing is
said about topsails, or topsail-halyards, you are the man."
"Good; I understand that, and I shall make a sailor, I know," added
Clyde.
"I hope you will. The order will come to 'settle away the topsail
halyards.' Be ready to help then."
"But I don't know the topsail halyards from a pint of soup."
"Here they are," added the lieutenant, conducting his pupil to the
rail, and pointing out the main-topsail halyards. "Then, when the
officer says, 'Aloft, top-men,' you will run up the main rigging here,
and the midshipman in the top will tell you what to do. At the word,
you will lay out on the yard, and do as the others do. At the words,
'Lay down from aloft,' you will come on deck, and hoist up the
main-topsail. Nearly all your duty is connected with the main-topsail.
In tacking, you will go to the clew-garnets."
"What are they?"
"These ropes, by which the corners of the mainsail are hauled up,"
answered De Forrest, pointing out the clew-garnets. "You will also
let go the main tack. In getting under way, you will help loose the
main-topsail. In anchoring, you are at the main clew-lines, and the
main brace. Here they are. In loosing and furling you are on the
main-topsail. In boat service, you are attached to the third cutter.
You sleep in berth No. 71, your ship's number, and eat with mess No.
6."
De Forrest, as instructed by the principal, carefully explained the
duties of the new comer, indicating every rope as he mentioned it, and
describing its use. He was prudent in his manner, and tried to give
the proud youth no offence by making him feel the superiority of an
officer. The lieutenant then conducted him to his mess room, and
pointed out his berth.
The wind was still from the southward, and quite fresh; and though the
squadron went under short sail, it was off Lillesand in a couple of
hours. The Tritonia, which was a fast vessel, did not detain her
consorts more than a couple of hours. Mr. Tompion boarded the ship,
and reported that the crew of the second cutter had landed at
Lillesand, and fearing that they should miss the ship if they returned
to Christiansand, had taken carioles, and left early in the morning
for Christiania. There were ten of the party, and one of them was a
Norwegian, though he was dressed like the others. Mr. Lowington could
not imagine who the Norwegian was that wore the Academy's uniform, for
it did not occur to him that Ole could have joined them. He was glad
to hear that all of them were well, and able to travel; and had no
doubt they would arrive in safety at Christiania. He was aware that
the crew of the second cutter were rather wild boys; but as there were
no large towns in the interior, he had no fear that they would be led
astray among the simple Norwegians.
The fleet filled away again, and at eight bells the following morning
was off Frederiksvaern.