CHAPTER I.

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YR YNYS UNYG;

OR,

THE LONELY ISLAND:

A NARRATIVE

FOR

YOUNG PEOPLE.

"Beseech you, be merry: we have cause

Of joy: for our escape

Is much beyond our loss: our hint of woe

Is common: every day, some sailor's wife,

The masters of some merchant, and the merchant

Have just our theme of woe: but for the miracle,

I mean our preservation, few in millions

Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh

Our sorrow with our comfort."--_Tempest._

LONDON:

SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, AND CO., STATIONERS' HALL COURT;

GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND CO., FARRINGDON STREET.

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE: F. AND W. DODSWORTH.

1852.

Transcriber's Note:

Archaic and dialect spellings remain as printed. Punctuation has

been normalised. Significant errors have been noted at the end of

the text.

The oe ligature has been represented by [oe].

INTRODUCTION.

DEAR FRIEND,

I enclose you the manuscript of which you have so long desired

possession. You have permission to do what you like with it, on one

condition, which is, that you alter all the names, and expunge anything

like personality therein; for, as you are aware (with two exceptions)

each character mentioned in the story is now alive, and so few years

have elapsed since the events recorded took place that it would not be

at all difficult for a stranger to recognize the heroes and heroines

therein mentioned. Having settled that business, I now proceed to say,

that as the narrative begins very abruptly, you will find it necessary

to have some little personal account of the parties concerned, which I

will lose no time in giving you. The mother of the party you know so

well I need say nothing further of her than that she was about 27 when

these events occurred; what her age is now, I must be excused telling,

inasmuch as it has nothing to do with the story, and it is her own

concern, and it will too certainly expose the time of the narrative and

other things she wished left in obscurity. Mrs. E., the little mother,

as she is called by every one, was the second in command. A greater

contrast to her cousin could not exist. Short, and rather stout, she

trotted by the side of her companion, as the little hippopotamus by the

side of the giraffe. Both their eyes were dark, but the mother's were

soft, and the little mother's so brilliant when she fixed her eyes on

you, you must tell what you thought, as they penetrated into the heart.

Her broad forehead showed the prevalence of the intellectual powers, and

the reliance on her own sense and judgment. To be sure some people

called her very masculine, and it is true that, when equipped in her

riding gear, and ready to get into her second home (the saddle), she

certainly slaps her tiny boots with her whip, walks round her horse,

examines his legs, and questions her groom as to the throwing out of

curbs, and other mysteries, known as stable lore. The horse has his nose

twitched that she may get into the saddle before the usual kicking scene

commences; once there, he may do what he likes, she is part of her

horse, and enjoys his gambols as much as himself. When in female

garments, though somewhat brusque in manners and blunt in speech, she is

a true woman, and as feminine in heart as the fairest and most delicate

among the sex. Madame, the governess, must occupy our attention the

next. She was the kindest, best, most loving guardian over her flock,

and seemed to have but one unhappiness in the world, and that was her

utter inability to keep in order and understand one rebellious pupil

among them. But I will not tell tales out of school. Sybil and Serena

were the mother's young sisters, 13 and 14 years of age, innocent, gay,

and happy creatures, blessed with beauty and sense above the common lot.

Gertrude, or Gatty, was the child of an old and valued friend. She was

about 12, with the wit, the quickness, the sense of 20, and I had almost

said the size, for so large a proportion of flesh, blood, and bones

rarely fall to the lot of male or female at that age. She was

alternately the soul of fun and merriment or the plague and torment of

every one about her. She had the judgment of mature age and the nonsense

of the greatest baby in her. The mother alone obtained unlimited

obedience from her. I am afraid I have discovered the "unruly one," but

all the characters shall speak for themselves. The mother's own children

were three in number. Oscar, a fine tall active boy, with a grave quick

demeanour, but the open brow and frank sweet smile won him the love of

every one. Lilly, the little girl, was about 6, a little, loving,

winning thing, with eyes like violets, and long dark rich curls

floating all round her, from the middle of which was uplifted a little

rosy face, almost perfect in its childish beauty. Felix, the youngest

boy and child, was a little, delicate, spoilt fellow, whose face seemed

made up of naught but eyes and eyelashes. They were all three quick and

clever children; and it was partly for the improvement of the little

boy's health the voyage took place, the incidents of which are mentioned

in this book. Zoe and Winifred were two little nieces. The former a

grave, little, quiet picture of a sweet Madonna, and the latter a

little, sparkling, merry pet, with the quick action and grace of a

fairy. Madame does not know it, or think we guess it, but Winny is

certainly her pet. Mrs. Hargrave, the lady's maid, and Jenny, the little

pet nurse, concluded the females; while a fine, tall, handsome, athletic

gamekeeper formed their only male attendant. Now, having said my say, I

leave you; but you must be answerable for the faults of this journal if

you will publish it; nothing could be more irregular and hasty than its

compilation. With this burden on your shoulders, dear friend, believe

me, thine in all pity and affection,

A FRIEND.

CHAPTER I.

On the 3rd of May, 183--, we embarked on board our pretty yacht, "La

Luna," the crew of which included all the party mentioned in the

preceding pages, besides those necessary to work her. These consisted of

a captain, two mates, a boatswain, fourteen seamen, a cook, a steward,

and my son's gamekeeper. Captain MacNab was a remarkably nice, active,

bluff, plain-spoken man. It was easy to be seen that he was not too much

pleased at commanding a company composed so entirely of women and

children; neither do I think he would have undertaken the charge had we

not expected Sir Walter Mayton, my children's guardian, and Mr. B.,

their tutor, to make part of the live stock. The former was prevented

accompanying us by domestic matters; the latter from his father's death.

But we made arrangements for both to join us at Madeira, for it was not

deemed advisable to wait the month it would take Mr. B. to settle his

father's affairs and provide a home for his sisters. The weather was so

beautiful it was thought we could easily spend a month in the

Mediterranean, previously to extending our voyage across the Atlantic;

besides I was anxious to see the promised roses restored to my little

son's face, and, without being foolhardy or presumptuous, I could not

entertain the least idea of danger. Our first mate, Mr. Skead, was not

only extremely skilful, but the nicest merriest person on board, being

quite as ready to be the boys' play-fellow as they could be to have him.

Mr. Austin was the second mate, a grave religious person, who kindly

acted chaplain for us. Of the seamen I need say nothing, but that they

were all picked men. Alas, when I recall that day, and see so vividly

before me all their rough but honest manly faces, and remember the close

intimacy that, being sharers in one common home, participators in all

things alike, engendered, I cannot but mourn over each face as I recall

it to memory. In the few months we were together each seemed a part of

the family, and in the sudden severing of our lives and fates mournful

thoughts will arise as to what can have been the fate of those in whom

we were so interested. But I must not anticipate, and, moreover, my task

is a long one, and I have no time to spare lingering over the past. Our

cook was a black man, called Benjie, which rather disturbed the peace of

the little girls. They could not think the white rolls were really made

by his black hands, and only his extreme good nature and willing

activity caused them to be in any degree reconciled to having a black

man for a cook. He was a very good one however, and willingly would we,

many years after, have hailed his black face and white teeth with the

joy of a dear friend. Smart, the gamekeeper, was a fine, tall, handsome

man, of Gloucester make and tongue; he was quite a character in his way,

and the contrast between his fear of the sea, his illness at the least

gale, his utter ignorance of anything nautical was very great, when we

thought of his courage, strength, and skill on shore, in his own

vocation. Under his care he had two large dogs, half blood hounds half

St. Bernard, their names were Bernard and Cwmro. But I must describe our

vessel:--La Luna had been built expressly for her present purpose, in

the river Clyde; she was of nearly 200 tons burden, three-masted,

beautiful and elegant in her appearance, and nothing could exceed the

convenience and comfort, combined with strength, with which she was

fitted up; we had a deck house, surrounded with windows, so that we were

shaded from sun and sheltered from breeze, and could see in every

direction each pursuing his or her favourite occupation, and yet losing

none of the beauties and wonders of the ocean; near the deck house were

two berths, one for Captain MacNab, the other for Mr. Austin; down

stairs we had a saloon, the length of which was the width of the vessel,

and about twelve feet across; on the upper end a smaller saloon, or

drawing room, the sofas of which made up four berths; the three girls

used this room, and it opened into the stern cabin, where Jenny and the

three younger girls slept, and through which the rudder came; at the

other end was a double cabin, which served for my cousin and me, opening

into the bath room, beyond that was the boys' cabin, and on the left

hand side of the stern cabin was Mrs. Tollair's cabin; in the other part

of the vessel were four other cabins, a steward's or servant's room,

besides the seamen's berths, here also were two very excellent deck

cabins for our two gentlemen whenever they joined us. We had fitted up

the whole of the saloon with bookcases, of which one was devoted to the

children's school books, drawing materials, and everything of that sort

they might require. Our travels were at present not only indefinite as

to time, but equally so as to place. We had a piano and a small hand

organ, which could be carried on deck.

It would be impossible to convey any idea of the bustle, the noise, the

confusion, the pleasure, the novelty that possessed everybody and

everything the few days before we sailed. The leave-takings were the

most painful, for having the care of so many who left the nearest and

dearest ties behind them, on a voyage, the singularity of which invested

it with a certain degree of mysterious danger, the nature of which no

one could define, and which I now for the first time felt. All this gave

a degree of sadness to the feelings of the whole party as we watched the

English coast fading from our sight. I sat on the deck until a late hour

recalling the happy and cheerful "God speed you" that my mother gave us,

the more grave and solemn farewell of my father, whose foreboding mind

looked farther than ours did. And then I recalled the parents of those

with me; the hearty and oft-expressed wish of Gatty's father, high in

honours and public esteem, to accompany us, the tearful farewell of her

mother, dear Winny's merry and light-hearted mother, while her father

bid her remember, during her long absence, the lessons of goodness and

high principle he was always so anxious to inculcate in her. My brother

and sister-in-law had been prevented coming to wish Zoe farewell, on

account of the illness of one of her brothers. I could not but think

this as well, for her mother's delicate nerves could never have borne

the parting from a child so beloved, and Zoe's leave to come would have

been rescinded at the last moment. Poor child! I know not whether to

wish it better to have been so or not. Dear uncle P. came to wish his

daughter, my cousin, good bye, and to promise once more a father's and

mother's care over her two little children during her absence. I could

not help being amused at his sometimes expressing a wish to go with us,

and the next minute scolding us for doing anything so mad. Well, we were

off! the last adieus were said, the last looks given, the last words

spoken. We were off! The die is cast, and it seemed strange to me that

now and only now did fearful doubts, and vain regrets, and sad

forebodings oppress my heart, and take possession of my mind. With

striking vividness I recalled how, mainly to please myself and amuse my

mind, I had projected and finally carried out this expedition; how I had

covered my own private wishes and thoughts under the plea of the good it

would do my little boy, the benefit it was to all young people to

enlarge their minds by travelling and experience, the novelty of the

adventure, and the sort of certain uncertainty which was to attend our

steps and ways during the next eight months, thus giving the charm of

novelty and singularity to the whole scheme. I know not how long I

should have dwelt on these circumstances, had not the children come to

wish me their wonted good night. Schillie declared I had moped enough,

the girls were eager that together we should take our last view of

England, for the breeze that carried us now so fast through the water

bid fair to take us soon out of sight of land. The young soon lose the

painful feelings of parting; besides, they were so delighted at being

really off, they had been so fearful lest anything should occur to

prevent one or all going, so as to destroy the _unity_, if I may so call

it, of the party, that unmitigated pleasure alone pervaded them. This

buoyancy of their feelings had as yet prevented any symptoms of illness,

and I don't think there was a pale face amongst the party, save the

little invalid and Smart, the gamekeeper. He sat silent and amazed

between his two dogs, and, could we have analyzed his feelings, I have

no doubt we should have been privy to most curious and contradictory

ideas. Qualms were coming over him of various kinds, equally foreign to

his nature. Probably, for the first time, he was experiencing fear and

sickness at the same moment, and quite unable to understand the symptoms

of either. The boys had not yet found out what made their dear Smart so

dull and unlike himself, when they were so joyous and delighted. We all

rose up, and went together to watch the fading land. Various

exclamations proved how much our thoughts dwelt on that beloved shore,

and long after my short sight had deemed it passed from view did my dear

girls exclaim, "they yet saw it; there were still lights." But Captain

MacNab wanted his deck to himself, so with cheerful good nights, the

moon being up, we descended to take our first meal on board, and use

those narrow couches at which we were so much amused, and which the

children had been longing to try from the moment they came on board.

Such a noisy tea never was, interrupted now and then by a lurching of

the vessel, which was such a new thing to us that all started, some in

fear, some in fun, and some, I must own, with other feelings not very

agreeable. The oddity of having nothing steady on our swinging table,

the laughing at the pale looks that flitted across the faces of others,

the grave determination with which little Winny declared "that now she

was really a sailor, she would only eat ship biscuit," caused intense

merriment. But ere tea was over one or two of our party disappeared, and

when twelve o'clock arrived Captain MacNab had La Luna all to himself

and his men, for the feminine crew were deep in slumber, caused by the,

to them, unusual motion of the sea, and the unwonted excitement of the

day.