OLD KENNEDY, THE QUARTER-MASTER(Sailors Ashore.—Hornet and Peacock.)No. II.
(Sailors Ashore.—Hornet and Peacock.)
“Well—well—sailors, is queer animals any how—and always ready for a fight or frolic—and, so far as I sees, it don’t much matter which. Now, there was Captain ——, he was a Lieutenant then;—I was up in a draft of men, with him to the lakes in the war, and as there was no canals nor steamboats in them days, they marched us up sojer fashion. As we marched along the road, there was nothing but skylarking and frolic the whole time,—never a cow lying in the road but the lads must ride, nor a pig, but they must have a pull at his tail. I recollects, once’t, as we was passing a farm yard, Jim Albro, as was alongside of me—what does Jim do, but jumps over the fence and catches a goose out of the pond, and was clearing with it under his arm, but the farmer, too quick for him, grabs his musket out of his door, and levelling at Jim, roars out to drop the goose. Jim catches the goose’s neck tight in his hand, as it spraddles under his arm, and thenturning his head over his shoulder, cries out, ‘You fire,—I’ll wring his neck off.’ And so Jim would have got off with the goose, but one of the officers seeing what was going on, orders Jim to drop the goose, and have a care how he aggravates the honest farmers in that ere sort of a way; for, ‘By the powers!’ said he, ‘Mister Jim Albro—this isn’t the first time, and if I hear of the like agin from you,—but your back and the boatswain’s mate shall scrape an acquaintance the first moment we come within the smell of a tarred ratlin.’
“It was wrong, to be sure, for Bill to take the man’s goose, seeing as how it was none of his; but there was one affair that same day, as the lads turned up to, and though a steady man, I’m free to confess I had a hand in’t. Why, what do you think sir, but as we what was bound for to fight the battles of our country—what do you think, but as we comes to one of them big gates they has on the roads, but the feller as keeps it, damme, sir, what does he do? but makes all fast, and swear that we shan’t go through without paying! I’m free to confess, sir, that that ere gate went off its hinges a little quicker than the chain of our best bower ever run through the hawse hole. A cummudgeonly son of a land lubber,—as if, because we didn’t wear long-tail coats, and high-heel boots, we was to pay like horses and oxen! If the miserable scamp hadn’t’ve vanished like a streak into the woods, we’d have paid him out of his own tar bucket, and rolled him over in thefeathers of one of his wife’s own beds. But, d’ye see, that wasn’t the end of it. Them ere lawyers gets hold of it—and it was the first time any of them land-shirks ever came athwart my hawse.
“When we gets to the next town, up comes a constable to the midshipman, supposing as how he was in command of the draft—up comes the constable, and says, says he, ‘Capting, I arrests you for a salt and battery, in behalf of these here men, as has committed it,’ meaning, you understand, the affair of the gate. Well, the midshipman, all ripe for frolic and fun himself, pulls a long face, and says gruffly, that his men hadn’t been engaged in no salt, or no battery; but that they was ready at all times to fight for their country, and asks him whereaway that same English battery lay, as he would answer for the lads’ salting it quick enough. Then the lawyer as was standing with his hands behind him, up and tells him that ‘it’s for a trespass in the case.’ ‘Oh! a trespass in the gate—you mean,’ says the midshipman; but just then the lieutenant comes up to see what’s the muss, and bids me put on my jacket, for d’ye see, I had squared off to measure the constable for a pair of black eyes—hang me if the feller didn’t turn as white as a sheet. ‘Put on your jacket, sir,’ says he, ‘and leave the man alone;’ and then turning to the midshipman, ‘Mr. ——, take the men down to the tavern and splice the main-brace, while I walk up to the justice’s with the gentleman to settle this affair. And, hark’ee, ye rascals,’ says he, ‘don’t disgrace the name of blue jacket in this quiet village, but behave yourselves till I return.’ Well, he and the lawyer walks up to the justice’s, and there they three takes a glass of wine together, and that’s the last we hearn of that ere business.
“There agin, when we took the Peacock;—you all knows about that ere action; it was what I calls short and sweet. Fifteen minutes from the first gun, he was cut almost entirely to pieces, his main-mast gone by the board, six feet of water in the hold, and his flag flying in the fore-rigging, as a signal of distress. The sea was running so heavy, as to wash the muzzles of our guns, as we run down. We exchanged broadsides at half pistol shot, and then, as he wore to rake us, we received his other broadside, running him close in upon the starboard quarter, and a drunken sailor never hugged a post closer, nor we did that brig, till we had hammered day-light out of her. A queer thing is war, though, and I can’t say as I was ever satisfied as to its desarts, though I’ve often turned the thing over in my mind in mid-watch since. There was we, what was stowing our round shot into that ere brig, as if she had been short of kenteledge, and doing all we could to sweep, with our grape and cannister, every thing living, from her decks,—there was we, fifteen minutes after, working as hard as we could pull to, to keep her above water, while we saved her wounded,and the prisoners, like as she had been an unfortunate wrack, foundering at sea. But all wouldn’t do—down she went, carrying thirteen of her own wounded, besides some of our own brave lads, as was exerting themselves to save them, and mighty near did Bill Kennedy come to being one of the number, and having a big D marked agin his name, on the purser’s book, at that same time. The moment she showed signals of distress, all our boats was put in requisition to transport the prisoners and wounded to the Hornet. I was in the second cutter, with midshipman C——; he was a little fellow then, tho’ he’s a captain now. Well, we stowed her as full as she could stow, and I was holding on by the boat-hook in the bows, jist ready to push off, when midshipman C——, jumps aboard agin, and runs back to call a couple of the Englishmen, as was squared off at each other, at the foot of the main hatch ladder, settling some old grudge—(for d’ye see, sir, all discypline is over the moment a ship strikes)—he runs back to tell them to clear themselves—for the ship was sinking,—but before he could reach it, she rolls heavily, sways for an instant from side to side, gives a heavy lurch, and then, down she goes head foremost, carrying them fellers as was squared off agin each other, and her own wounded, besides four or five of our own brave lads, right down in the vortex. Our boat spun round and round like a top, for a moment, and then swept clear, but the midshipman barely savedhimself, by springing into an empty chest as was floating by, and there he was dancing about in the heavy sea, like a gull in the surf, and it was nigh on two hours afore we picked him up; but the little fellow was jist as cool and unconsarned, as if he was in a canoe on a fish-pond. The next day we opens a subscription, and furnishes all the British seamen with two shirts, and a blue jacket and trowsers each,—cause why—d’ye see, they’d lost all their traps in their ship when she went down.”