"Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire;
... so shall inferior eyes,
That borrow their behaviours from the great,
Grow great by your example, and put on
The dauntless spirit of resolution."
_King John_, V. i.
"Creaky doors" are said to "hang long," and leaky ships may enjoy a
similar longevity. It certainly was a curious fact that the _Water-Lily_
hardly suffered in that storm, though the damage done to shipping was
very great. Big and little, men-of-war and merchantmen, very few escaped
scot-free, and some dragged their anchors and were either on the reef in
the harbour, or ran foul of one another.
Repairs were the order of the day, but we managed to get ours done and
to proceed on our voyage, with very little extra delay.
I cannot say it was a pleasant cruise, though it brought unexpected
promotion to one of the Shamrock three. In this wise:
The mate was a wicked brute, neither more nor less. I do not want to
get into the sailor fashion of using strong terms about trifles, but to
call him less than wicked would be to insult goodness, and if brutality
makes a brute, he was brute enough in all conscience! Being short-handed
at Bermuda, we had shipped a wretched little cabin-boy of Portuguese
extraction, who was a native of Demerara, and glad to work his passage
there, and the mate's systematic ill-treatment of this poor lad was not
less of a torture to us than to Pedro himself, so agonizing was it to
see, and not dare to interfere; all we could do was to aid him to the
best of our power on the sly.
The captain, though a sneaking, unprincipled kind of man, was neither so
brutal nor, unfortunately, so good a seaman as the mate; and the
consequence of this was, that the mate was practically the master, and
indulged his Snuffy-like passion for cruelty with impunity, and with a
double edge. For, as he was well aware, in ill-treating Pedro he made us
suffer, and we were all helpless alike.
His hold over the captain was not from superior seamanship alone. The
_Water-Lily_ was nominally a "temperance" vessel, but in our case this
only meant that no rum was issued to the crew. In the captain's cabin
there was plenty of "liquor," and the captain occasionally got drunk,
and each time that he did so, the influence of the mate seemed riveted
firmer than before. Crews are often divided in their allegiance, but the
crew of the _Water-Lily_ were of one mind. From the oldest to the
youngest we all detested the mate, and a natural manliness of feeling
made us like the captain better than we ought otherwise have done,
because (especially as regards the drinking) we considered his relations
with the mate to be characterized by anything but "fair play." No love
was really lost between them, and if the captain came on deck and took
the lead, they were almost certain to quarrel (and none the less so,
that _we_ rushed with alacrity to obey the captain's orders, whereas
with the mate's it was all "dragging work," as nearly as we dare show
unwillingness).
What led to the extraordinary scene I am about to relate, I do not quite
know. I suppose a mixture of things. Alister's minute, unbroken study of
what was now his profession, the "almost monotonous" (so Dennis said)
perseverance with which he improved every opportunity, and absorbed all
experience and information on the subject of seamanship, could hardly
escape the notice of any intelligent captain. Our captain was not much
of a seaman, but he was a cute trader, and knew "a good article" in any
line. The Scotch boy was soon a better sailor than the mate, which will
be the less surprising, when one remembers how few men in any trade
give more than about a third of their real powers to their work--and
Alister gave all his. This, and the knowledge that he was supported by
the public opinion of a small but able-bodied crew, may have screwed the
captain's courage to the sticking-point, or the mate may have pushed
matters just too far; what happened was this:
The captain and the mate had a worse quarrel than usual, after which the
mate rope's-ended poor Pedro till the lad lost consciousness, and whilst
I was comforting him below, the brute fumed up and down deck like a
hyena ("sight o' blood all same as drink to the likes of him," said
Alfonso, "make he drunk for more")--and vented some of his rage in abuse
of the captain, such as we had often heard, but which no one had ever
ventured to report. On this occasion Alfonso did report it. As I have
said, I only knew results.
At eight o'clock next morning all hands were called aft.
The captain was quite sober, and he made very short work of it. He told
us briefly and plainly that the mate was mate no longer, and asked if we
had any wish as to his successor, who would be chosen from the crew. We
left the matter in his hands, as he probably expected, on which,
beckoning to Alister, he said, "Then I select Alister Auchterlay. He has
proved himself a good and careful seaman, and I believe you all like
and trust him. I beg you to show this now by obeying him. And for the
rest of the voyage remember that he is _Mister_ Auchterlay."
"Mr. Auchterlay" more than justified the captain's choice. His elevation
made no change in our friendship, though the etiquette of the vessel
kept us a good deal apart, and Dennis and I were all the "thicker" in
consequence. Alister was not only absolutely loyal to his trust, but his
gratitude never wearied of displaying itself in zeal. I often wondered
how much of this the captain had foreseen. As Alfonso said, he was "good
trader."
The latter part of the voyage was, in these altered circumstances, a
holiday to what had gone before. The captain was never actually drunk
again, and the _Water-Lily_ got to look clean, thanks largely to the way
Pedro slaved at scraping, sweeping, swabbing, rubbing, and polishing, to
please his new master. She was really in something like respectable
harbour trim when we approached the coast of British Guiana.
Georgetown, so Alfonso told me, looks very odd from the sea. The first
thing that strikes you being the tops of the trees, which seem to be
growing out of the water; but as you get nearer you discover that this
effect is produced by the low level of the land, which is protected from
the sea by a sea-wall and embankment, I have no doubt Alfonso was
right, but when the time came I forgot all about it, for it was not in
ordinary circumstances that I first saw Georgetown.
It was one of those balmy, moonlit tropical nights of which I have
spoken; but when we were within about an hour's sail of the mouth of the
Demerara river, the sky ahead of us began to redden, as if the evening
had forgotten itself and was going back to sunset. We made numberless
suggestions, including that of a display of fireworks in our honour; but
as the crimson spread and palpitated like an Aurora Borealis, and then
shot up higher and flooded a large area of sky, Alister sang out "Fire!"
and we all crowded forward in anxious curiosity.
As might be expected, Alfonso and Pedro were in a state of the wildest
excitement. Alfonso, of course, thought of his lady-love, and would
probably have collapsed into complete despair, but for the necessity of
keeping up his spirits sufficiently to snub every suggestion made by the
cabin-boy, whose rival familiarity with the topography of Georgetown he
could by no means tolerate; whilst Pedro, though docile as a spaniel to
us, despised Alfonso as only a half-caste can despise a negro somewhat
blacker than himself, and burned for safe opportunities of displaying
his superiority. But when Pedro expressed a somewhat contemptuous
conviction that this glowing sky was the result of rubbish burning on
plantations up the country, and skilfully introduced an allusion to
relatives of his own who had some property in canefields, Alfonso's
wrath became sublime.
"You no listen to dat trash ob cabin-boy," said he. "Wait a bit, and
I'se find him dirty work below dat's fit for he. Keep him from troubling
gentlemen like us wid him lies. Plantation? Yah! He make me sick. Tell
you, me know Demerary well 'nuff. De town is in flames. Oh, my
Georgiana!"
So much, indeed, was beyond doubt before long, and as the fire seemed
perilously close to the wharves and shipping, the captain decided to lie
off for the night. The thermometer in his cabin stood at ninety degrees,
which perhaps accounted for his having no anxiety to go ashore; but, in
spite of the heat, Dennis and I were wild to see what was going on, and
when Alister called to us to help to lower the jolly-boat, and we found
we were to accompany him, we were not dilatory with the necessary
preparations, and were soon rapidly approaching the burning town.
It was a strange sight as we drew nearer and nearer. Before us, on the
sea, there was a line where the cold silver of the moonshine met the
lurid reflections of the fiery sky, and the same cool light and hot glow
changed places over our cheeks as we turned our heads, and contrasted
on the two sides of the sail of the jolly-boat. And then we got within
earshot. A great fire is terrible to see, but it is almost more
terrible to hear, and it is curious how like it is to the sound of great
waters or a great wind. The roar, the hiss, the crackle, the pitiless
approach--as Dennis said,
"I'll tell ye what it is, Jack. These elemental giants, when they do
break loose from our service, have one note of defiance amongst them;
and it's that awe-ful roar!"
When we stood in the street where the fire was, it was deafening, and it
kept its own distinctness above all other noises; and with the
fire-bells, the saving and losing of household goods, and the trampling
and talking of the crowd, there were noises not a few. Dennis and I were
together, for Alister had business to do, but he had given us leave to
gratify our curiosity, adding a kindly warning to me to take care of
myself, and keep "that feather-brained laddie," Dennis, out of danger's
way. We had no difficulty in reaching the point of interest, for,
ludicrous to say, the fire was in Water Street; that is, it was in the
street running parallel with the river and the wharves, the main
business street of Georgetown. We were soon in the thick of the crowd,
protecting our eyes from the falling fragments of burning wood, and
acquiring information. That heap of smoking embers--so we were
told--was the big store where it first broke out; the house yonder,
where the engines were squirting away, and the fire putting tongues of
flame out of the windows at them, as if in derision, cost two thousand
dollars--"Ah! there goes the roof!"
It fell in accordingly; and, in the sudden blaze of its destruction, I
saw a man come riding along, before whom the people made way, and then
some one pulled me back and said,
"The governor."
He stopped near us, and beckoned some one to his side.
"Is he coming?"
"He's here, sir;" and then into the vivid glare stepped a tall,
graceful, and rather fantastical-looking young gentleman in a white
jacket, and with a long fair moustache, who raised his hand with a quick
salute, and then stood at the governor's stirrup.
"I know that fellow, I'm sure," said Dennis.
"Royal Engineers officer," said my neighbour. "Mark my words, that means
gunpowder," and the good man, who was stout and steaming with
perspiration, seemed to feel like one who has asked for a remedy for
toothache and been answered by the dentist--"Gunpowder is what it means!
And if our governor had sent for a cobbler, _he'd_ have said, 'Nothing
like leather,' and mended the hose of the steam-pump. And that store of
mine, sir, didn't cost a cent less than--"
But I was watching the engineer officer, and catching fragments of the
rapid consultation.
"Quite inevitable, sir, in my opinion."
"Very good. You have full powers--instruct--colonel--magazine--do your
best."
The engineer officer had very long white hands, which I noticed as one
went rapidly to his forehead, whilst with the other he caressed the dark
nose of the governor's horse, which had been rubbing its head against
his shoulder. And then the governor rode away and left him.
The word "gunpowder" seemed to have brought soldiers to the spot in a
sort of natural sequence. There was more quick saluting and short
orders, and then all disappeared but one bronzed-looking sergeant, who
followed the engineer stripling up and down as he jerked his head, and
pulled his moustache, and seemed to have some design upon the gutters of
the house-eaves, which took a good deal of explaining and saluting. Then
we heard wheels and running footsteps, and I became sensible of great
relief from the pressure of the crowd. The soldiers had come back again,
running a hand-cart with four barrels of gunpowder, and the public made
way for them even more respectfully than for the governor. As they set
it down and wiped their faces, the sergeant began to give orders rather
more authoritatively than his superior, and he also pointed to the
gutters; on which the soldiers vanished as before.
"Can't we help, I wonder?" said I.
"That's just what I'm thinking," said Dennis, and he strode up to the
officer. But he was busy with his subordinate.
"Well, sergeant?"
"Not a fuse in the place, sir."
"Pretty state of things! Get a hatchet."
"They sent one, sir."
"All right. This is the house."
"The roof _'as_ caught, you know, sir?"
"The less time to waste," was the reply, and the young man took up a
barrel in his hands and walked in with it, kicking the door open with
his foot. The sergeant must almost have trodden on his officer's heels,
as he followed with the second, and before I could speak Dennis had
shouldered the third.
"Here's diversion!" said he, and away he went.
There was the fourth barrel and there was I. I confess that I felt a
twinge, but I followed the rest, and my barrel behaved as well as if it
had been a cask of molasses, though the burning wood fell thickly over
us all. As I groped my way in, the sergeant and Dennis came out, and by
the time that they and some soldiers returned, dragging pieces of
house-gutters after them, the fantastic young officer was pouring the
gunpowder into a heap in the middle of the floor, by the light of a
corner of the ceiling which was now on fire, and I was holding up a
shutter, under his orders, to protect it from premature sparks. When he
set down the barrel he shook some dirt from his fingers, and then
pushing back his white shirt-sleeves from his wrists; he filled his
joined hands as full with gunpowder as they would hold, and separating
them very slightly let a tiny stream run out on to the floor as he
walked backwards; and, as fast as this train was laid, the thin line was
covered from falling embers by the gutters turned over it upside down.
Through the room, down along a passage between two houses, and so into
the street, where the crowd had more or less assembled again. Then the
officer emptied his hands, dusted them together, and said, "Clear
everybody out."
The sergeant saluted--"May I fire it, sir?"
"No, thank you, sergeant; clear everybody out." The sergeant was
evidently disappointed, and vented this on the civilian
public.--"_That_" said he, turning a blackened thumb over his shoulder,
"is a 'eap of gunpowder. It's just a going to be hexploded." There was
no need to "clear everybody out." _They went_. And we found ourselves
alone with the soldiers, who were laughing, and saying that the crowd
had taken a big cast-iron tank for the heap of gunpowder. We stood a
little aside in obedience to a wave of the young officer's arm. Then he
crossed the street to pick up a long piece of burning wood, and came
back, the moonlight and the firelight playing by turns upon him.
I honestly confess that, fierce as the heat was, I turned cold. The
experiences of the next few minutes were as follows: I saw the young
engineer fire the train, and I heard a puff, and then I saw him fall,
face downwards, behind the tank. I gave a cry, and started forward, and
was brought up short by a back-hander on my chest from the sergeant.
Then came a scrambling, rushing sound, which widened into a deep roar,
shaking the ground beneath our feet, and then the big building at which
we were gaping seemed to breathe out a monstrous sigh, and then it fell
in, and tumbled to pieces, quietly, swiftly, and utterly, like a house
of cards.
And the fantastic-looking young officer got up and shook himself, and
worried the bits of charred wood out of his long yellow moustaches.