The day after Clare's punishment the matter was almost forgotten in the
hurry incident to preparation for sea. By 5 P.M. the ship was perfectly
ready, and every one at his post, in immediate anticipation of getting
under weigh, when the signal midshipman announced, "Our pennant's
flying, sir." Up went the rolls of bunting, threading their way aloft
until they reached the mast-heads of the flag-ship, when they broke and
unfolded themselves to the breeze. Their purport being ascertained,
Captain Puffeigh was informed that the Stinger was to remain at anchor
until sunrise the next morning. Upon receiving this order the commander
directed "the engine-room fires to be banked, and the crew piped to
dance and skylark;" thus giving the officers and men an opportunity of
writing farewells to their friends.
Captain Puffeigh retired to his cabin, called for a supply of pens, ink,
paper, and old crusted port, and proceeded to torture himself into
letter-writing condition. In a short time he worked his ideas up to
literary red-heat, and produced the following extraordinary effusion,
during the manufacture of which he had blessed the paper, execrated his
spectacles, and, in fact, blamed everything, but his own dull brains.
Mrs. Puffeigh being young and pretty, we fear did not see much to admire
in her husband, and was not at all sorry to be once more free from his
oriental attentions.
"_H. M. S. Stinger, off Spithead_, "_16 November_, ----.
"ROBBY'S OWN PET,
"I am sorry I cannot come on shore to say one more good-bye to my
Tooty. I know that horrid Captain Dasher will be with you at the
pic-nic about this time; but my pet will keep him at a distance.
Don't give the dog too much meat, and discharge that saucy maid of
yours, find out if you can to what ship her fellow belongs, his
name is James Green.
"I almost cry when I think how lonely you must be, poor Tooty, keep
up your spirits. Tell the gardener to discharge his boys, and send
all the peaches to the fruiterers. Keep the cellar key yourself,
and if my brother visits you, give him bin three, port, it is good
enough for a curate. How will my pet get on without me. Keep up
your music, and don't paint your dear little face, don't you
remember how people laughed at me at the archery meeting, when I
wiped Tooty's face and the stuff came off.
"Pretend to be gay, and show the envious ones that you are
happy--don't waltz, darling pet. Doctor Muddle says, _it's the very
worst exercise you can take_, slow dances are _not so bad_. I hope
you will visit your relations as much as possible, _particularly
those who do not wish you to invite them in return_.
"I have a pair of your dear little bootikins, which stand in my
cabin, I look at them with tears in my eyes.
"Put the servants on board wages when you are absent.
"With a billion kisses from your own doting
"ROBERT PUFFEIGH."
Tooty screamed with delight when she read this letter, but followed her
own inclinations in spite of its warnings.
The lieutenants and other commissioned officers were in their respective
cabins, emulating their captain's example in letter-writing. Crushe
scrawled two epistles which ran as follows:--
"_Stinger, at Spithead_, "_16 November_.
"MY BELOVED AUNT,
"Providence has ordained that I shall be chastened by being
separated from those I love. I kiss the rod, and submit with
resignation.
"You will be happy to hear, my dear aunt, that I am in a ship where
the voice is raised in supplication, and where we can meet, when we
choose, for mutual improvement. One of our officers, named Cravan,
is seriously seeking, and I trust will become a shining light. I
gave your beautiful tracts to our boatswain, a most worthy young
inquirer, who, I doubt not, will make good use of them. He
remarked, "if he had ten times as many they would be acceptable,"
which gratified me exceedingly. We were obliged to flog that
wretched man, Clare, yesterday. I did all I could for him, but he
was hardened, and refused a tract offered him by the boatswain. I
enclose my mite towards the Reverend Mr. Bulpurp's chapel, give it
him, with my humble prayers for the cause.
"My poor wife still refuses to join our blessed band, and therefore
will not visit you. I am much concerned about her hereafter. She
refused to read that excellent book you gave me for her special
perusal. You may remember it was called "Beauty a Sin;" pray for
her, dear aunt, and for your unworthy nephew,
"HOWARD CRUSHE."
(_No date._)
"DEAR MARY,
"Another of your weak compositions has reached me; how foolish you
are to waste your time in endeavouring to make me believe you care
for me. I have no money to send you. Ask your _doting_ father for
some. So you still refuse to visit my aunt, and assist me to secure
her money.
"_Very good_; until you do this I shall not answer another of your
letters.
"Your afft. husband,
"HOWARD CRUSHE."
When Crushe's aunt perused her letter she wiped her eyes, declared "he
was too good a husband for such a wife," and sitting down wrote an order
for one hundred pounds, which she forwarded to his agents, with
directions to place the same to her nephew's account.
His wife read hers with a sad heart, and when she had received its last
keen stab, cried bitterly, and wished the grave might soon be her
resting-place.
The manly fellow who wrote them anticipated these results.
LIEUTENANT FORD TO MISS ----.
"DEAREST FLORENCE,
"I have but a few seconds in which to scratch farewell. Your letter
of yesterday reached me. I did not know that Clare's wife had been
your maid. Tell her I will get him into my watch, and do all I can
for him, _for your dear sake_. He bore his punishment nobly, and
even his enemies must have admired his courage. Cravan (you know,
the man who made himself so ridiculous at the archery meeting) is
in our ship. I never speak to him except on duty. Your sweet
miniature shall never be parted from me until I claim you as my
wife.
"I told Clare that you knew his wife, and had interested yourself
about him, and he seemed thoroughly to appreciate your good action.
"With love to Kate and Reg. and Chin-chin to Mamma and Papa,
believe me to be ever your devotedly attached
"ERNEST.
"_H. M. S. 'Stinger,' Spithead, 16th November._"
The gun-room was a scene of the most lively disorder. Most of the lads
were leaving home for the first time, and consequently had a great deal
to communicate to their friends, yet every now and then they would cease
writing, and turn their attention to squabbling with their neighbours
about desk room.
The questions of boundary lines and elbow rights being settled, these
combative bantams would challenge each other "to cut for glasses round."
The article divided for was by them facetiously termed "stout;" a cask
of this cholera-mixture being on tap under the mess-table. Affixed to
the bulk-head was a notice, running as follows:--
"In future, any officer ordering stout, must attend to the
following: When the steward stoops under the table, he must
whistle, and continue at this exercise until his head is again upon
a level with the mess-table. In default of which, boots and other
blunt weapons may be used.
"(Signed) PALGRAVE BROWN,
"Caterer."
This stringent regulation was the result of a tendency on the part of
their steward to remain unnecessarily long under the table, when ordered
to draw the delectable beverage for his superiors.
The said steward was a hang-dog looking object, who had bolted from
servitude under a parish undertaker, and sought peace on board a
man-of-war, yet found it not, having exchanged one weak tyrant for
several bullying, inconsistent, savage little Neros. Some of the
youngsters, taking their cue from Crushe, seemed to think the only way
they could show their authority was by domineering over the wretched
servant; and in spite of Ryan and other gentlemen, would vent their
spleen upon the poor fellow, treating him as if he were destitute of
feelings.
Between decks forward the crew took leave of their friends according to
their various temperaments; some yawned, and told of faithful and
faithless loves, vowing one good-bye was enough for most women, while
they never would cease to remember others with whom they had consorted.
A few stretched themselves out on the bags in the rack forward, and
dropped off into a broken sleep, from which they would start with a
wondering air, observing to those around them that they "was werry near
off that time."
Seated near the cook's galley was a careworn-looking sailor, cheek on
hand, evidently so deeply buried in thought as to be quite unconscious
of the babel around him. He was thinking of the past, when, in spite of
mother's prayers and father's warning, he determined to leave his home
and enter the navy. Bitterly he regretted the unspoken compliance which
rose to his lips, when his mother begged him "not to go to sea, but stay
to comfort her in her old age," and, angered by the silence of his
father, he steeled his heart against them, and the words, "Father, I'm
wrong; forgive me," were never uttered.
He remembered how, when leaving their cottage, he heard the old man
angrily refuse to call him back, saying, "He don't mean it, and will be
home again in a few days." He nearly faltered then, but dreaded the
kindly laugh which would follow if he returned. Brave heart to face the
lash and degradation, rather than submit to the will of one who loved
him, although he was a little harsh at times.
He left them in anger, and never afterwards communicated his
whereabouts, or sent them a word of comfort; but he was never out of
_their_ thoughts, and their last years were racked with torturing
anxiety on his account. After a long absence, he returned to England,
and bent his steps towards his native village, thinking with the gold he
had earned to cheer his aged parents, and heal their bruised
hearts--wondering, as he passed along the streets, why the people stared
so; mistaking children for their parents, and taking young men for old,
in his eager desire to be recognized by some one. The very ale-house
sign was cold in its appearance, and swung lazily on its hinges, as if
to wave him off. "I don't know you," said the children. "I don't know
you," echoed the trees--and the whole place seemed to enter a protest
against his re-appearance among them. "Well, never mind! mother will
know me," he thought; "and father will be glad to see me, I dare say;"
and he turned down the lane in which stood his home. An old woman was in
the porch. He shouted to her, "Mammy, here's Joe," upon which she
tottered in and closed the door.
"What!" he bawled, "up to your old tricks, mammy, hiding again? Come,
let me in. I'm real glad to see you." As he said this, he reached the
threshold and rapped playfully, to hasten her re-appearance.
As no answer was given, he lifted the latch and walked into the house,
where he was confronted by the woman, who ordered him to "begone and not
worrit her." He gazed on the old crone in speechless amazement, until
she again urged him to depart, upon which he mumbled something about
"_her_ not being his mother."
The woman, finding he was much affected, tendered him a seat, and he
soon learned that his father was sleeping calmly by the side of his
faithful spouse, in the village churchyard. He got up and walked to that
place like one in a dream. When he stood by their neglected graves the
choke rose in his throat, and bitterly he repented the sad consequences
of his rash step.
The old sexton seeing some one at the graves, thought possibly he might
be a relation of those buried there; so he hobbled to his side, and with
parrot-like volubility told him, "there lies two good old folks, who
died broken-hearted because their boy left them to go to sea, and was
never again heard of;" and the sailor felt his utter loneliness, that he
was an outcast, a very dog, with no one in the world to love or care for
him.
These thoughts came crowding into his brain, and he writhed under the
magic of their influence. However, after a time they left him, when he
arose, and preluding the transformation with an oath, became once more a
rough, callous fellow, "a daring, reckless sailor."
A knot of ordinary seamen and boys were collected around one old tar,
who was evidently "a man of mark among them." This ancient mariner did
not impart choice moral instructions to his audience; far from it, he
was what they called "yarning," and his reminiscences savoured of back
slums and low dens, but were not on that account less interesting to
those about him. When he laughed they followed suit, and woe betide the
man who dared contradict "Old Jemmy," or for one moment doubt the
veracity of his "tough ones;" while instant squashment would be the doom
of any boy who did not laugh louder or believe more implicitly than the
men. Offerings of grog and tobacco were made by his obsequious
admirers, and he was in that condition graphically described by sailors
as "werry tight."
"Does any o' you remember Limpin Lew?" demanded this old man, adding
parenthetically, "I suppose none of _you_ ever knowed _her_, though."
"I knowed her rayther!" squeaked a small boy, who was standing on a shot
rack, so as to get a full view of the old Tycoon's face.
"Did you?" mumbled the ancient mariner. "I should like to know how the
likes of _you_ became ack-vainted with sich an elegant field-male?"
saying which this oracle placed a plug of tobacco between his toothless
jaws, and looked round until he spied out the small boy, who, being thus
challenged, retorted--
"Vy shouldn't I know her, vhen she drinked herself to death at my
fauther's?"
"_Your_ father's! who's _your_ father?" growled the patriarch.
"Bill Jordun, wot keeps the Blue Postes at Portsea--he's as good a man
as you, anyhow."
Much to the astonishment of the spectators, the daring child was not
slain, or maimed for life; but with a look of the most profound
admiration, the hoary sinner drew forth his tobacco box, which he
tendered, to the lad, requesting him to "help hisself," remarking as he
did so, "Wot! the kid of my old chum Bill? Lord love you, sit down along
side of me, vy, I've been as tight as an owl at your old man's many's
the time. I'll be as good as a father to you, my boy; see if I don't."
The ancient mariner religiously kept his word--_with a rope's end_--and
the lad repeatedly had occasion to "anything but bless" the memory of
"that elegant field-male Limpin Lew."
A few of the men were seated at their mess-tables, scrawling off their
epistolary farewells. Tom Clare was one of these--crippled as he was, he
managed to write to his wife.
_H. M. S. Stinger, Nov. 16, ----_
"DEAR POLLY,
"We leave in a few hours for a foreign station, it is now all past,
and I am wot they cal a free man once again. Tell her, the angell
as you knows,--I menshun no name for fear of accident,--that I
thank her for her kindness to you. I wait patient until I see you
again. Love to Mother and Father. I have you always in my hart
until death do us part, God bless my wife.
"From Thomas Clare, A. B., to Mrs. Clare, care of Mrs. Morks, 41,
John Street, Portsmouth, or if not there, to Mrs. Clare, Kingsdown,
near Deal, Kent.
"Write soon, she will tell you were too,
"TOM CLARE."
Mr. Thompson not only wrote to Mary Ann, but also in consideration of
sundry glasses of grog, acted as amanuensis to several of his shipmates.
The letter to his intended running thus:--
_Pentonwille, afloat off Spithead._
"DEAR MISS MARY ANN ROSS, Perfection in Wimen,
"This comes opin to find you well as leafs me at present with a
full intenshun to bolt as soon as i gets harf a chans.
"I am sorry to ad your brother in lawer is a brute, i knowed he
were a mene kus but i did not think 'im wishous, being a perfec
tyerant.
"He gave us a trete a flakin pore T. Clare, i was horri-fied and
his pore wife a faintin over the ship's side, and the skipper as
hard as a stone, which i hope she will bolt with some good looking
feller and drive him into a lunatic a-sylum. T. Clare behaved like
a bric--but enuf of those melancholy subjex which I dismiss with
love to Mrs. Shever and wishin her a better husband that i feels as
if i would like to punch his edd.
"P. S. Give my love to your cousin Amelia, alsow to that red-ed-ded
gal the cook next door, if so be you don't objex, she avin a bligh
of my sister Fanne in Australia.
"P. S. Remember me, Horatio, to the sarjunt, but don't allow no
other soljar nere your lips, dere Mary Ann.
"P. S. P. S. Minde you keep clear of that young Carpenter who is
after no goode.
"P. S. If this should meat the high of the cook, give her my love,
also a kiss if you don't objex.
"P. S. S. S. S. S. We are going to the Cape of Good ope tomorro
before breakfast, so dri your tears, dispell your fears, for true
you'll always find me i must and will return again to the girl i
left behind me.
"JERRY THOMPSON, A. B. on board H. M. Ship Stinger. Seamen's Letter
bag."
Mr. Price, the boatswain's mate, not being able to write to his good
lady himself, had captured a bull-headed boy and under threat of dire
torment compelled him to write to his dictation. The lad was directed to
"chalk down" every word his persecutor uttered, and he followed his
instructions with Chinese exactness.
Every now and then the bull-headed one would thrust out his tongue,
square his elbows and settle close to the paper, until there seemed
every probability of his resting his cheek upon the letter and indulging
in a short slumber. When Price saw the closely-cropped poll inclining
paperwards, he would, seize his victim by the scruff of the neck with
his left hand, while his right would be operating upon the person of the
secretary with a motion which rapidly took the kink out of his vertebra,
and made him sit as upright as a soldier: "If you goes a kissin of the
paper again I'll rope's end you!" said Price, after having jerked his
clerk into position for the tenth time.
This is the result of Price's system.
"16 Nov.--Mind your i am going to write a few lines hold up your
head you d--ear Eliza we are going to leave for a furrin, isn't so
I say it is, furrin station to-morrow. Now then keep up my half pay
note is given to the paymaster you infernal little f--ond line. All
my clothes was right but a nod sock right on the paper none of your
lip and the ditty box lid was broke you young warmint. I'll give
you something to wake you up in love to Meryar hold your jaw also
my respects to Mister Mags wot keeps the Red Lion.--keep up and
be--also to all inquirin friends lay down again and I'll give you
this rope's end which you knows. We flaked Ths. Clare and I hurt my
wrist a so doing and will give you just the same if you don't mind
your high. If you can write me W. Price boatswains mate starboard
watch H. M. S. Stinger Cape of Good ope or elsewear to be forwarded
if left till called for, lord bless you all I'll cut you in halves
if you go a kissin agin like that, your lovely husband, BILL
PRICE."
(Mrs. Price was somewhat puzzled with the foregoing, but finding the
half-pay came in regularly, she consoled herself with that, and telling
her neighbours "that her Bill was off his chump.")
On the morning of the 17th November the Stinger got under weigh, and
after saluting the flag of Admiral * * *, steamed slowly down the
British Channel.
The last link of the chain, supposed to bind folks to their native land,
having been severed the Stingers turned their faces towards the future,
and their more immediate attention to matters connected with securing
boats and anchors.
The screw continued its music, and rattled away at a tune which lasted,
with intervals, until the ship returned to England. It was an auxilliary
screw--a noisy, bumptious, mad little article--going off with a bang, as
if desirous of giving every one a headache; after which it would undergo
a paroxysm, and worry at a great rate--at first free and strong, then
gradually quieting down to a dead strain, like a blind man's dog when
held in by its owner. Thus people who did not know the secret of its
weakness would imagine it a very powerful, hard-working auxiliary.
Sometimes it stopped dead, or jingled like a tambourine, when Mr. Sniff,
the chief engineer, gravely doctored it with pantomime property forceps,
which operation would somewhat relieve it, and start it clattering on
its way again. When the wind freshened it would drag after the ship in a
lazy, sulky manner, leaving a curve of bubbles to mingle in her wake as
if in silent protest against the superior force of its rival. But let
the breeze fall light, with a sudden kick it would throw off the water,
rattle, and rush; and when thus excited, had been known to propel the
Stinger at the dizzy rate of six knots an hour.
After they were out two days the commander opened his despatches, and
informed his officers that "they were bound for the Cape of Good Hope,"
which they already knew, although not officially.
"Going to the Cape of Good Hope! hurrah!" cried Jerry Thompson, who had
not scrupled to listen to the communication made by Puffeigh to the
first lieutenant. "Going to the Cape, my boys; hurrah for fat-tailed
sheep and Cape smoke!" It seems Thompson had been there before.
Clare was placed in Lieutenant Ford's watch. He went about his work in a
quiet, unassuming manner, and became a prime favourite of that officer.
No one interfered with him, and he would never trouble his shipmates
except on matters of duty.
Captain Puffeigh took a great fancy to Thompson; and one day called him,
and questioned him as to his antecedents. "Have you not sailed with me
somewhere, my man?" demanded the commander. "It's my brother you know,
sir," replied the scamp. "We're so werry much alike, that our mother
don't know us." This remark partly satisfied Puffeigh, who thereupon
rated Jerry to be his coxswain. "I know I've seen you somewhere,
though," he repeated. "My eyesight isn't first-rate, but I seem to
remember your features."
It was probably a very good thing for the coxswain that Puffeigh's
vision was imperfect.
The Stinger made the best of her way Capewards, and Crushe relieved the
dullness of the passage by experimenting on the endurance of the crew.
Five times the gratings were rigged, and the disgraceful farce of
justice enacted, five men broken into obedience, or rendered worse
demons than before.
The ship, however, in due time arrived in Simon's Bay, and proceeded to
refit. The first order given being "no leave allowed to any one while we
are in this place."
Commander Puffeigh accepted the hospitality of one of the merchant
houses, and took Jerry on shore to act as his valet. While there an
adventure befell them, which we will narrate in the next chapter.