The last days I spent at Whithyford ought to have been very delightful,
for my kind friends vied with each other in making much of me, as of
course so did my mother. My father talked of going down to Portsmouth
with me, but he changed his mind.
"No, no," he said, "you know how to take care of yourself; and it is as
well the old boatswain should not come and interfere with you. God
bless you, my boy; go on as you have begun, and you will do well."
And Emily. I am not going to repeat all we said to each other. We were
very young, and I dare say very silly. We exchanged vows, and hoped to
marry when I became a commander, or perhaps, we agreed, it might not be
so long; perhaps when I was a lieutenant. Many lieutenants had wives,
and though, to be sure, some were not very well off, yet we hoped to be
an exception to the general rule, and to have at all events enough to
live upon. Thus, full of love and hope, I started away for Portsmouth.
I was quickly on board the "Pearl". The First-Lieutenant, Mr Duff, was
a man after Captain Schank's own heart--a thorough tar, and under him,
doffing my midshipman's uniform, I was speedily engaged with a
marline-spike slung round my neck, and a lump of grease in one hand,
setting up the lower rigging. The brig was soon fitted for sea.
Oldershaw joined her as Second-Lieutenant. My two other friends Tom
Twig and Dicky Esse were glad to go to sea again with Captain Schank. I
also fell in with Toby Kiddle and Pat Brady at Portsmouth. I persuaded
both to join, Toby being rated as a quarter-master, and Pat as captain
of the foretop.
"You see, Mister Burton," he observed, with a wink, "I can now write
home to Ballybruree to tell them I have been made a captain; and sure
it's the truth, and it will help to raise the family in the estimation
of the neighbours, and may be they will think one captain as good as
another."
I confess that I should have preferred being in a rattling frigate; and
yet we had brave hearts on board the brig, and hoped at all events to do
something in her. We were ordered out to the North American station,
and then to proceed on to the West Indies. It used to be thought, in
those days, a good thing to give ships' companies the advantage of a hot
and cold climate alternately. The cold was to drive away the yellow
fever, and the heat to cure us of frostbites, to which we might be
subjected at Halifax or up the Saint Lawrence. We preferred, on the
whole, the West Indies, for, being constantly at sea, we had not much
sickness on board. We took a good many of the enemy's merchant vessels,
which struck without offering much resistance; but, though they assisted
to fill our pockets, we gained little honour, or glory, or a chance of
promotion. We had been, indeed, a year and a half on the station
without exchanging a shot with the enemy. At length, when off the east
end of Jamaica, while we were on the starboard tack, a strange ship was
discovered steering under easy sail on the opposite tack. What she was
we could not make out. She was considerably larger than we were, but
still Captain Schank determined, should she be an enemy, to attack her.
About an hour before noon she passed to leeward of us, and almost within
gun-shot. We made a private signal. It was not answered.
"About ship!" cried the Captain, and away we stood in chase. In about a
couple of hours we were within gun-shot. Our bow gun was fired and
returned by the enemy's stern chaser. She then hoisted French colours
and set more sail, edging away to the southward. At length we got up
abreast of her, and brought her to close action. She, however, fought
well, and we soon had our braces, bowlines, and tiller-ropes shot away.
The enemy, now expecting to make us an easy prize, ran us aboard.
"Boarders away!" cried Captain Schank. The Captain's wooden leg
preventing him from getting on board the enemy as rapidly as he wished,
Mr Duff led our men. Scarcely, however, had he reached the ship's deck
when a pistol bullet through his head laid him low. I was close behind
him. Oldershaw was bringing on a fresh set of boarders.
"On, lads, on!" shouted Oldershaw. We swept the enemy before us, and,
though they made a stout resistance, in ten minutes we had killed, or
driven below or overboard, the greater part of the crew. The remainder,
who had escaped aft, threw down their arms and cried for quarter. Our
prize mounted twenty-four guns, and the crew amounted to upwards of two
hundred men. Two days afterwards we were entering Kingston Harbour with
her in triumph. Oldershaw was appointed First-Lieutenant of the brig,
and I received an order as her Second-Lieutenant. Soon after this, we
were ordered to proceed, with three ships of the line and two frigates,
in search of a French squadron, which had been committing depredations
on the African coast, and had just been heard of in the neighbourhood of
the West Indies. We were delayed by a hurricane which raged over those
seas. Fortunately we were in harbour, but some of the ships which were
outside suffered greatly. However, as Toby Kiddle observed, "What is
sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander," and we could only hope
that the enemy had suffered in the same way. At length, after cruising
for some time, we, being ahead, discovered a frigate, which, from the
cut of her sails, we had little doubt was French. Signalling to our
consorts, we gave chase, keeping considerably ahead of all the rest. In
about two hours we had got within two miles of the chase, and as we
approached still nearer we commenced firing our bow guns. The French
frigate, hoisting her colours, returned our fire with her stern chasers.
We now shortened sail.
"If we get much nearer," said Captain Schank, "she may send us to the
bottom with one of her broadsides; but at this distance we may cripple
her and prevent her escaping." The nearest English frigate was by this
time about three miles astern of us. Already the Frenchman had cut up
our rigging a good deal, and at length one of her shots struck our bow
between wind and water. It was quickly plugged, and we continued at
some distance firing away, our shot every now and then striking the
enemy, but what damage we had done we could not ascertain. The leading
frigate was a very fast one, and was now rapidly coming up. We, I
confess, were anxiously looking out for her, for, although prudence
might have forbade us getting nearer the enemy, our eagerness to stop
her would have made us run every risk to effect that object. At length
the English frigate got within gun-shot of the enemy. She opened fire
with her bow chasers. Down came the Frenchman's flag, when once more we
made sail and hove to close to the prize. Captain Schank ordered me to
proceed on board and take possession. I felt, I must confess, almost as
surprised as a mouse would do at conquering a lion. The French captain,
however, with becoming politeness though with somewhat a wry face,
presented me with his sword, and we found ourselves in possession of a
forty-four gun frigate, measuring upwards of one thousand tons, and a
crew of three hundred and fifty men. Besides Frenchmen, there were on
board several Englishmen, who formed part of the crew of an Indiaman the
frigate had captured two days before. Among them were the second and
third officers. The Indiaman had been overtaken at night, and the
French ship had fired into her, and killed the captain and first officer
and a number of the crew. The passengers who were below had happily
escaped. The Indiaman's officers, thorough gentlemanly young fellows,
told me that they had only lost sight of the prize the day before, that
she was a slow sailer, and from the direction in which she was standing,
they had little doubt in what direction we should find her. The
recaptured prisoners also told us whereabouts we should fall in with the
remainder of the French squadron.
We accordingly sent one of the Indiaman's officers on board the frigate,
while Captain Schank received orders from the Commodore to proceed in
search of the Indiaman. Scarcely had we lost sight of our squadron,
which was standing in the direction the Frenchmen were supposed to be,
when it came on to blow from the north-west. The wind rapidly increased
till it became a downright heavy gale. Our brig, however, was a fine
sea-boat, and under close-reefed topsails rode it out bravely. Our
chief anxiety was, however, on account of the risk we ran of losing the
Indiaman. Still the mate was convinced that she could not have passed
to the northward of where we then were.
"She will be standing on the larboard tack, Captain Schank," he
observed; "if she sees all clear she will run through the Gut of
Gibraltar, or if not, will make for some port in the Bay of Biscay."
However, as the Atlantic is a broad highway, our hopes of falling in
with her were far from sanguine. For three days we lay hove to, till at
length the gale moderating we once more made sail and stood to the
eastward. A bright look-out was kept for the sight of a sail, and from
sunrise to sunset volunteers were continually going aloft, in the hopes
of being the first to see the wished-for ship. Next morning, when it
was my watch on deck, I heard a voice from the maintopmast head
shouting:
"A dismasted ship on the weather-beam not four miles away."
I sent Esse, who was midshipman of the watch, aloft, and he corroborated
Pat Brady's statement.
Sending below to call the Captain, I kept the brig away in the direction
of the ship. The sea was still running very high. As daylight
increased, we could see her clearly rolling in the trough of the sea,
and in an utterly helpless condition. For some time the mate could not
tell whether it was his own ship or not.
"Too likely," he observed, "for the Frenchman's shot had wounded some of
our masts, and she very probably lost them in the late gale."
Captain Schank and all the officers were quickly on deck, as were the
crew, and all eyes were turned to the wreck. As we drew near, we were
left in no doubt of her being a large Indiaman; and Mr Paul, the mate,
soon recognised her as the "Yarmouth Castle," to which he had belonged.
The signal of distress was flying on the stump of her mizzen-mast. As
we drew near, we discovered that the gale had otherwise severely handled
her. Most of her boats were gone, and her bulwarks stove in, probably
when the masts were carried away. As we passed a short distance to
windward of her, a person ran to the side with a large board, on which
was chalked, "Keep by us! Sprung a leak! Pumps choked! Captured by
Frenchmen!"
"Ay, ay," shouted Captain Schank, and his voice borne down by the wind
probably reached them. As we passed, several people rushed up to the
man who had shown the board, and tore it out of his hands. This showed
us that we must be careful when going alongside, lest the Frenchmen
should attempt to beat us back. The difficulty of communicating with
the ship was still very great, for the sea continued high and broken,
and she rolled very much. We accordingly wore round and hove to at a
little distance, intending to wait till the sea should go down.
The mate told us that there were a great many of the English crew and
Lascars left on board, and he thought, should they make the attempt,
they would be able to retake the ship from the Frenchmen. No attempt
was made, however, and at length, the weather moderating, a boat, of
which I took the command, was lowered, the brig being sufficiently near
at the time to fire into her, should the French prize crew offer any
resistance.
What was taking place on board the Indiaman we could not see, but just
as we got alongside several people appeared and hove ropes to us, and
assisted me with four of my men to get on board. I observed, as I
reached the deck, that a scuffle was taking place forward, and I then
found that the passengers and some of the crew had suddenly attacked the
Frenchmen, who, it appeared, had intended manning their guns in the
hopes of beating off the brig. Our appearance quickly gave an easy
victory to our friends. The superior officers of the Indiaman had all
been taken out of her. The carpenter, however, was on board, and told
me he hoped, if the pumps could be cleared and properly worked, that the
leak could be kept under. A richly-laden Indiaman was indeed a prize
worth recovering. The passengers had nearly all remained on board, and
expressed their gratitude for the timely succour which had been afforded
them. The Frenchmen, finding that all hope of carrying off their prize
was gone, yielded themselves prisoners; their commanding officer, who
had, with his men, been driven forward, delivering up his sword to me.
I sent the boat with Dicky Esse back to tell Captain Schank that I
thought, with some thirty of our hands in addition to the ship's crew
whom we had on board, to be able to keep the pumps going, and to rig
jury-masts by which the ship might be safely carried to England. Among
the passengers a gentleman was pointed out to me who had been very
active in retaking the ship from the hands of the Frenchmen. I inquired
his name. "Mr Bramston," was the answer.
"How strange," I thought: "and is Mrs Bramston on board?"
"Yes, sir, she is, but she is very ill, and has constantly kept her
cabin."
"Have they any children?" I asked.
"No, none, sir," said a lady who overheard the question. "Poor lady,
she once had a daughter, a little girl, who was lost in a very sad way,
and I do not think she has ever recovered that event."
As may be supposed I could not then ask further questions, as my entire
attention was required for the duty of the ship. I asked Kiddle, who
accompanied me on board, what he thought of the weather.
"It's moderating, sir, and I hope we shall be able to keep the ship
afloat if we get more assistance."
The sea rapidly went down, and the men I asked for were sent on board.
The pumps were again speedily set going, and as the ship laboured less
we began to gain upon the leak. Fortunately there was a good supply of
spars on board, and I hoped, should the weather continue moderate, to be
able to rig jury-masts the following day. We worked hard till
nightfall, most of the Frenchmen giving their assistance at the pumps.
Indeed, had we not fallen in with them, the probabilities are that the
ship would have gone down; so that they owed their lives to us, although
they were not well-pleased at being made prisoners. I now for the first
time was able to enter the cuddy. Coming off the dark deck, I was
struck by the bright light of the cabin, the tables glittering with
plate and glass set for supper, well secured, as may be supposed, by the
fiddles, a number of passengers, ladies and gentlemen, being collected
round them. They greeted me warmly, and numerous questions were put to
me as to the probability of the ship's reaching home in safety. I
assured them that I hoped in the course of a week or so, if the wind was
favourable, that we might find ourselves in the Chops of the Channel.
"Although," I added, "you know the chances of war, but I promise you
that our brig will stick by you and fight to the last for your
protection."
I was not sorry to take my seat at table among them, as I had eaten
nothing for some hours. The gentlemen all begged to take wine with me,
and assured me they believed that, had we not fallen in with them, the
ship would have gone down. When Mr Bramston addressed me, I replied
that I knew his name, and asked if he came from Ceylon.
"Yes," he answered, "I have been there for many years."
I then told him that my commander, Captain Schank, had some time before
written to him on an important matter, and asked whether he had received
the letter.
"Yes," he answered, "just before I left India, and I will speak to you
by-and-by on that matter."
After supper he took me aside, and begged to know further particulars of
the death of Mr Herbert. "Though," he remarked, "that was not the name
by which you knew him."
"Well," he said, after I had told him, "the less his poor daughter knows
of these painful circumstances the better. I am now returning with her,
and, I am thankful to say, her health has already benefited by the
voyage. I trust the meeting with her mother will have a beneficial
effect on her."
"I am sure it will on Mrs Lindars," I observed: "her great wish was,
that should her daughter have been taken away, she might have left some
children on whom she might bestow her long pent-up affection."
"Alas!" said Mr Bramston, "our one only child, a little daughter, was
taken from us at an early age in a very sad way. Mrs Bramston had been
very ill, and had been advised to proceed to Madras for change of air.
An old naval friend offered her and me a passage, and I accordingly
hurried on board, leaving our child under the charge of a friend at
Colombo. I returned as soon as possible, and finding my wife yearning
for her little one, I resolved to send her to her. A dhow was on the
point of sailing, in which several friends had taken a passage. I
committed our child and nurse to their charge. The dhow never reached
her destination, and we have every reason to believe that she foundered
with all on board."
"That is indeed strange!" I said aloud. I stopped, for I was afraid of
raising hopes in the heart of the father which might be disappointed.
He heard me.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"When was this?" I inquired.
"In the month of July, in the year ---," he said.
"That is indeed wonderful," I exclaimed, scarcely able to restrain my
feelings. "I was a child at the time," I said, "but I was on board a
frigate, which fell in with the wreck of a dhow. The only people alive
on board were an Indian nurse and a child--a little girl. The nurse
died; but the child was taken care of by my mother, and is now under the
protection of the family of the commander of the brig to which I belong,
Captain Schank, the officer who wrote to you on the subject of Mr
Herbert's death."
"God be praised!" exclaimed Mr Bramston. "I cannot have the shadow of
a doubt that the little girl who was picked up by your frigate was my
daughter."
"By-the-by, I have a man with me who was on board the `Boreas' at the
time, and he can tell you even more than I can," I remarked.
Mr Bramston was eager to see him. I sent for Kiddle. He corroborated
my account, adding further particulars, which left no doubt whatever on
the mind of Mr Bramston that the Little Lady--my Emily--was his
daughter.
"And is she a pretty child? Can you give me an idea of her size and
appearance?"
"Yes, she is, sir, indeed, very pretty; but you must remember she is no
longer a child; she is a young lady," I answered, feeling that my voice
was very likely to betray my feelings.
"I long to see her," exclaimed Mr Bramston. "But I must break the
tidings gently to her mother, or the sudden joy may be too much for
her."
We were busily employed all the next day getting up jury-masts, and not
till the next evening was I able to go into the cabin. I was then
introduced to Mrs Bramston. I found that she was somewhat prepared for
the narration I had to give her. The moment I saw her I was convinced
that Emily was her daughter, for the likeness was very striking. Well,
I must cut my yarn short. Having rigged jury-masts we made sail, and,
the wind coming to the southward, steered a course for England. The
brig kept cruising about us like a vigilant sheep-dog, ready to do
battle with any who might interfere with his charge. At length England
was reached, and getting leave, I accompanied my new-found friends to
Whithyford. I will not describe the meeting of the mother and her
child, and the elder child and her mother. One thing only made me
unhappy. I dreaded lest Mr Bramston, who I found had made a large
fortune in India, should object to his daughter marrying a poor
lieutenant of no family. I could not bear suspense, and so Emily and I
told him that we were engaged, and she added that she should break her
heart if she were not allowed to marry me. Mr Bramston smiled.
"You are rather young to think of such matters now," he said, "but when
my friend here becomes a commander, if you are still in the same mind, I
promise you that neither your mother nor I will object."
In the course of two years I did become a commander. We were in the
same mind and married. I stuck to my profession, however, was posted,
got the command of a dashing frigate, in which I did good service to my
country, and am now a KCB with my flag in prospect.