My reply was immediate. I thanked him for his kindness, and hoped I might remain on board the guard-ship until he took the command of another vessel, as I did not wish to sail with any other captain. I had been brought forward by him in the service, and preferred waiting for months rather than lose his kind protection.The only reply to my letter was an order from the Admiralty, for me to be discharged into the guard-ship when the Calliope was paid off.I hardly need say that I had written and received letters from my mother, who was delighted at my name being mentioned in the despatches; but I will defer family news till the proper opportunity, as I must first tell all that occurred in the Calliope before she was paid off.The reader will recollect that the son of the Dutch captain, whose name was Vangilt, had been permitted to come home in the ship, instead of being sent to prison. He and I were very intimate and when I discovered that he was the cousin of Minnie Vanderwelt, I became more partial to him. He was very melancholy during the passage home; how, indeed, could he be otherwise, with the prospect of being a prisoner during the remainder of the war? and he often expressed his feelings on the subject.“Could you not escape?” said I, one evening.“I fear not,” replied he. “If once out of prison, I have no doubt but that I could get a conveyance over the Channel by means of the smugglers; indeed, I have connections in England who would assist me.”When Captain Delmar went away to town, he had quite forgotten the poor fellow, and Mr Weymss, who was the commanding officer, did not make any special report of him as he thought he might defer it till the last moment, as every day out of prison would be so much gained by young Vangilt, who was a general favourite.In this instance, my regard for the young man made me quite forget my duty as an officer, and the Articles of War. I knew that I was about to do wrong; but I considered that, with so many thousand prisoners which we had in England, one more or less could be of no consequence, and I set to work to see if I could not effect his escape.After much cogitation, I found I could do nothing without Bob Cross and I consulted with him. Bob shook his head, and said it was, he believed, hanging matter; but, after all, it was a pity that such a nice lad should be peeping between iron bars. “Besides,” continued he, “he lost his father in the action, and he ought not to lose his liberty also. Well, Mr Keene, show me how I can help you.”“Why, Bob there’s a very pretty little girl, who very often comes alongside with the old woman, and you go down into the boat and talk with her.”“Yes, sir,” replied Bob, “that’s the little girl I told you of, that used to repeat her fables on my knee. The fact is, I hope to splice her some of these days. It’s her mother who is with her, and she will not let her come on board to mix with the other women, because she is good and modest; too good for me, I’m afraid, in one sense of the word.”“How do you mean Bob?”“Why, sir, when I first knew her, she and her mother were living upon what they could earn, for the father was killed in action many years ago, and I used to help them as far as I could; but now I find that, although they are not changed, things are, most confoundedly. Her uncle lost his wife; he is considered a rich man, and being stone blind, and having no one to take care of him after his wife’s death, he sent for this girl and her mother to keep his house and he is very fond of the girl, and declares that he will leave her all his money, and that she shall marry well. Now, sir, if she was to marry me, a petty officer only, it would not be considered that she married well; so you see, sir, there’s a hitch.”“Who and what was he?”“He was a smuggler, sir, and a very successful one; he has six or seven houses, all his own property besides the one he lives in himself. He lives about a quarter of a mile out of Gosport. I know all about him, although I have never seen him. Soon after he left off smuggling, he lost his eyesight, and, somehow or another, he considered it was a judgment upon him—at least his wife, who had joined the Ranters, persuaded him so—and so he took a religious turn, and now he does nothing but pray, and call himself a poor blind sinner.”“Well, Bob, but I do not see why you should give up the girl.”“No, sir; nor will she or her mother give me up. I could marry her to-morrow without his consent, but I do not like to do her that injury.”“He is stone-blind, you say?”“Yes, sir.”“We’ll talk your affair over another time. What I want at present is, to help this poor young Vangilt to escape. He says, that if once clear, the smugglers would put him on the other side of the water. Now, it appears to me that it would be very easy for him to get out of the ship unperceived, if he were dressed in woman’s clothes, so many women are going and coming all day long.”“Very true, sir, especially on pay-day, when nobody keeps any look-out at all. I see now, you want some of Mary’s clothes for him; they would fit very well.”“Exactly; and I think that, as her uncle had been a smuggler, we might go and consult him as to his escape over the water. Vangilt will pay 100 pounds with pleasure—he told me so. That will be an introduction for you as well as for me to the old fellow.”“I think we had better let the old fellow suppose it’s a woman—don’t you, sir? But what shall we call ourselves?”“Why, I will be a sort of agent for ships, an you shall be a captain.”“A captain! Mr Keene.”“Yes; a captain, who has had a ship, and expects another. Why, you were a captain of the fore-top before you were rated coxswain.”“Well, sir, I must consult Mary and her mother, and then I’ll let you know: they will come this afternoon. Perhaps in helping Mr Vangilt, I may help myself.”That night Bob Cross told me that Mary and her mother were quite willing to assist, and that they thought it would be a very good introduction to old Waghorn: that we must expect some religious scruples at first, but we must persevere, and they had no doubt that the old man would contrive to get the young man over to Cherbourg, or some other place on the other side; that we had better call on him in the evening, and they would be out of the way.As soon as the work was over for the day, Bob Cross and I obtained leave, and set off for Mr Waghorn’s house. We were met by Mary and her mother, who pointed it out to us, and then continued their walk. We went to the door, and found the old man smoking his pipe.“Who’s there?” cried he, as we lifted the latch of the gate.“Friends, sir,” replied Cross; “two persons who come to talk on business.”“Business! I’ve no business—I’ve done with business long ago: I think of nothing but my perishing soul—poor blind worm that I am.”He was a very fine-looking old man, although weather-beaten, and his silver locks hung down on his collar; his beard was not shaved, but clipped with scissors: his want of sight gave him a mournful look.“Nevertheless, sir, I must introduce myself and my friend, the captain,” replied I, “for we want your assistance.”“My assistance! poor blind beetle—how can I assist you?”“The fact is, sir, that a young woman is very anxious to return to her friends, on the other side of the water; and knowing that you have acquaintance with those who run to and fro, we thought you might help the poor young woman to a passage.”“That’s to say, you’ve heard that I was a smuggler. People do say so; but, gentlemen, I now pay customs and excise—my tea has paid duty, and so has my tobacco; so does everything—the king has his own. The Bible says, ‘Render under Caesar the things which are Caesar’s.’ Gentlemen, I stand by the Bible. I am a poor, sinful old wretch—God forgive me.”“We ask nothing against the Bible, Mr Waghorn; it’s our duty to assist those who are in distress; it’s only a poor young woman.”“A poor young woman. If she’s poor, people don’t do such work for nothing; besides, it’s wrong, gentlemen—I’ve given up all that,—I’ve a precious soul to look after, and I can’t divert my attention from it. I wish you good-bye, gentlemen.”At this moment Mary and her mother returned, and we rose up. “Mrs James, is that you and Mary? Here’s a captain and his friend come to me; but it’s a fool’s errand, and so I’ve told them.”I then stated to Mrs James what we had come for, and begged that she would persuade Mr Waghorn.“Well, Mr Waghorn, why won’t you?—it’s a good action, and will have its reward in heaven.”“Yes; but she’s a poor young woman, and can’t pay her passage, so it’s no use.”“On the contrary,” replied I, “the captain here will become security, that 100 pounds shall be paid down as soon as she arrives in any part of France or Holland.”“Will he? But who’s the captain?”“I haven’t a ship just now, but I expect one soon,” replied Bob; “the money shall be paid at once, if you will only receive the young woman until she can be sent off.”“Well let me see—there’s James Martin; no he won’t do. There’s Will Simpson; yes, that’s the man. Well, it’s a good act; and, captain, when will you bring the money?”Now the ship was to be paid off on Wednesday and as we had each three years’ pay due, there was no difficulty about that; so I replied, “On Wednesday, the captain will give the money to this lady, or whoever comes with us to receive the young woman; will you not, Captain Cross?”“Oh! certainly; the money is ready at an hour’s notice,” replied Bob. “I’m sure that she’ll pay me back, if she can; and if she can’t, it’s of no consequence.”“Well, well, it’s a bargain,” replied the old man. “I’m a poor blind beetle, a sinful old soul; I’ve nothing to do but to make my peace with Heaven. It’s charity—‘Charity covereth a multitude of sins,’ saith St. Paul. Recollect 100 pounds—that’s the bargain. I’ll send Mrs James to you; you must not call again till she’s on the other side of the water.”“Many thanks, sir,” replied Bob. “I won’t call till I hear she is safe, and then I’ll bring you some tobacco to smoke, such as you don’t often pick up nowadays.”“Happy to see you, Captain Cross, and your friend there,” replied the old man.We then took our leave. Mrs James, after we were gone, praised the appearance of Captain Cross, as such a nice-looking man, and old Waghorn evidently thought well of him by the answer he made. Mary, however, pretended to prefer me.As soon as I returned on board, I told young Vangilt what I had been about. He wrung my hand, and the tears started in his eyes. “You, as an officer, are indeed risking much for me. As to the money, you know me, I trust, too well, not to be sure of receiving it as soon as I can send it; but I never can repay your kindness.”“Perhaps you may be able to help me one of these days,” I replied. “Who knows? It’s fortune of war, my good fellow; but it’s as well not to be seen too much together.” So saying, I left him.The next day, Mrs James came off with the necessary garments and bonnet for his escape, and they were given me by Bob Cross. The day after was pay-day; and the ship was in such a state of confusion, and there were so many people on board, that there was no difficulty whatever. Vangilt changed his clothes in the midshipmen’s berth, which was empty, and Bob Cross handed him down the side into the boat, where Mrs James waited to receive him. Bob and I had both been paid, and we gave her the 100 pounds for old Waghorn. The boat shoved off; Vangilt arrived safe at Waghorn’s house, where he was kept concealed for eight days, when, for the sum of 20 pounds, he was safely landed on the French coast, old Waghorn having pocketed 80 pounds by the transaction which, considering he acted out of pure charity, was a pretty good reward.Having thus successfully managed, by being guilty of high treason, in aiding and abetting the enemy, I bade farewell to Bob Cross, leaving him to follow up his amour, while I went to Chatham to pay my respects to my mother. I had made up my mind how to act. I was no longer a child, but a man in reflection as well as appearance.I arrived, and hastened to the house from which I had escaped so mysteriously the last time I was in it. My mother threw herself in my arms, embracing me, and then looking at me with surprise and pleasure. Three years and a half had changed me; she hardly knew me, for her association of ideas had still pictured me as the smart stripling whom she had, with so much anguish, consigned into the hands of Bob Cross. She was proud of me—my adventures, my dangers, my conduct, and my honourable mention in the Gazette, were all known to her, and she had been evidently congratulated by many upon my successful career. My grandmother, who had grown much older in appearance, seemed to be softened towards me, and I had sense enough to receive her advances with great apparent cordiality. My aunt and the captain were delighted to see me, and I found that my two cousins, of whose appearance I had been duly apprised, were very pretty children. I found that my mother had two assistants in her business and everything appeared to be on a grander scale, and more flourishing than ever.The first two or three days were devoted to narratives, communications, explanations, and admirations, as is usually the case after so long an absence; after which we quietly settled down in the relative positions of mother and son, and she assumed, or rather would have assumed, her control over me; but this was not my wish; I had made up my mind that, although a clever woman, I must in future control her, and I took the first opportunity of a longtête-à-têteto let her know that such was my intention.Speaking of Captain Delmar, I at once told her that I knew he was my father, and that I had his own handwriting to prove it. She denied it at first; but I told her that all denial was useless, that I had possession of the letter he had written to her upon my supposed death, and that it was no ghost, but I, who had frightened my grandmother.This was my first blow, and a heavy one, to my poor mother; for what woman can bear to be humiliated by her offspring being acquainted with her indiscretion? I loved my mother, and would fain have spared her this pang, had it not been that all my future plans were based upon this one point, and it was necessary she should aid and abet me in them.My poor mother was bowed to the earth when she found that it was in vain to deny my parentage; she covered her face with her hands in deep shame before her child, but I consoled, and caressed, and told her (what I really felt), that I was indebted to her for not being the son of a private marine; that, at all events, I had noble blood in my veins, and would prove myself worthy of my descent, whether it were acknowledged or not; but from that hour I took the command over her—from that hour it was I that dictated, and her authority as a parent was gone for ever. Let it not be imagined that I treated her harshly; on the contrary, I was more kind, and, before other people, more dutiful than ever I was before. She was my only confidant, and to her only did I explain the reasons of my actions: she was my adviser, but her advice was not that of a parent, but that of an humble, devoted, and attached friend; and during the remainder of her days this position was never altered.As soon as my mother had acknowledged the fact there was no longer any reservation on my part. I told her what was the conduct of Captain Delmar towards me. I pointed out his checking any display of paternal feelings towards me, and also the certainty that I had that he was partial to and proud of me. I explained to her the line of conduct which I had pursued, and was determined still to pursue, towards him.“Percival,” said my mother, “I see the judiciousness of what you say and of your behaviour towards him; but allow me to ask you: What is the object you are aiming at—I mean particularly aiming at? Of course you hope to obtain advancement from his interest, and perhaps, if he becomes more attached to you, he may not forget you when he dies; but it appears to me that you have something nearer to your heart than all this—tell me, am I right?”“You are, my dear mother; my great end is, that Captain Delmar should acknowledge me as his son.”“I fear that he will never do that, Percival; nor, indeed, do I think you would gain by it. When you are more advanced in the world, your parentage may be considered as obscure, but still, being born in wedlock, it will be more respectable than the acknowledgment you would seek from Captain Delmar. You are not aware of the affronts you may meet with by obtaining what you evidently wish; and once known as the son of Captain Delmar, you may wish that it was never promulgated.”“I was born in wedlock, mother, as you say, and as many others are, who now are peers of the realm, and in virtue of their being born in wedlock, succeed to property to which they would otherwise not be entitled. Your shame (excuse me for using the word) and my disgrace are equally covered by that wedlock, which is an answer to any accusations of illegitimacy. As to affronts, I do not fear them, or ever shall, from those who know me. I can defend and protect myself; but it is a great difference to me to let the world suppose that I am the son of Ben the marine, when I know myself to be the son of the future Lord de Versely. I wish to be acknowledged by Captain Delmar in such a way as to convince the world that such is the fact, without the world being able to throw it up in my face. That is easily done if Captain Delmar chooses to do it; and if done as it ought to be done, will lead to my benefit. At all events, it will satisfy my pride; for I feel that I am not the son of your husband, but have blood boiling in my veins which would satisfy the proudest aristocrat. I prefer the half relation to that class, such as it is, with all its penalties to being supposed to be the son of the man whom, from prudential motives alone, you took to be your husband.”“Well, Percival, I cannot blame you; and do not you, therefore, blame your mother too much, when you consider that the same feeling was the cause of her becoming your mother.”“Far from it my dear mother,” replied I; “only let us now act in concert. I require your assistance. Allow me to ask you one question—Have you not realised a sufficient sum of money to enable you to retire from our business?”“I certainly have, my dear Percival, much more than is necessary for me to live in comfort, and I may say, some little luxury; but I have thought of you, and for your sake, every year, have continued to add to my profits.”“Then, my dear mother, for my sake give up your business as soon as possible; money is not my object.”“Tell me what your reasons are for this demand.”“My dear mother, I will be candid with you. I wish you to retire from business, and leave this place for any distant part of England; I wish you to change your name, and, in one word, I wish Captain Delmar should believe that you are dead.”“An why so, Percival? I cannot see how that will benefit you; it was on my account that he took charge of you. You are not sure that he may not be severed from you, and who knows but that my supposed death may occasion him to desert you altogether?”“You assist my cause, my dear mother, by what you say, if it is on your account that Captain Delmar is my friend; and if as you say, he might desert me when you are dead, or supposed to be so, it is evident that his motive of action must be fear. You have the secret of my birth, which he supposes to be known only to you and to him. I am convinced that if you were supposed dead, and that the secret was his own, if he thought that there was no proof whatever against him, he would then not care showing towards me that regard which he is inclined to feel as a father, and which is now checked by his pride. Captain Delmar is naturally of a kind and affectionate disposition—that I am sure of. Your memory would do more for me than your existence ever can, and as for the rest, leave that to me. At all events, if he should, as I do not believe he will, be inclined to throw me off, I have still his written acknowledgment that I am his son, to make use of in case of necessity. Now, my dear mother, you must consent to do as I wish. Give up your business as soon as possible, and retire to another part of the country. When I consider it a proper time to do so, your death shall be made known to him. I have no doubt that he will be afloat again in a few months, and when we are out of England I will bide the proper time.”“But your grandmother, Percival—must I tell her?”“No; tell her only that you intend to retire from business and go away from Chatham; say that you will in future reside in Devonshire, and ask her to accompany you. Depend upon it she will be pleased with your intentions. As to what we arrange relative to Captain Delmar, say nothing to her—she hates his very name, and is not likely to talk about him.”“Well, Percival you will allow me till to-morrow to think about it before I give a decided answer.”“Certainly, my dear mother; I wish you so to do, as I am convinced that you will agree with me; and I infinitely prefer that you should decide on conviction, than be induced by maternal regard.”As I was well assured, my mother’s decision was favourable to my wishes. She consulted with my grandmother, who approved of her intentions, and then it was made public that Mrs Keene intended to retire from business, and that the good-will was to be disposed of along with the stock. My aunt Milly and Captain Bridgeman appeared well content that my mother should take the step which she proposed. In short, all the family approved of the measure, which is not a very usual circumstance in this world. I now employed myself in assisting my mother in her affairs. In a month we found a purchaser of the stock and good-will, and when the sum paid was added to my mother’s former accumulations, she found herself possessed of 12,000 pounds in the Three per Cents, the interest of which, 360 pounds, was more than sufficient for her living comfortably in Devonshire, especially as my grandmother had still remaining an income very nearly amounting to 200 pounds per annum.In another month everything was arranged, and my mother bade farewell to her sister and all her friends, and left Chatham, after having resided there more than seventeen years.Long before my mother had removed from Chatham I received a letter from young Vangilt, announcing his safe arrival in Amsterdam, and enclosing an order to receive the money advanced, from a house in London. His letter was very grateful, but, as I had cautioned him, not one word was in it which could implicate me, had it fallen into other hands.I may as well here observe, that in the hurry of paying off the ship, Vangilt was never missed, and although it did occur to the commanding officer after he had gone on shore that Mr Vangilt had not been sent to prison, he thought it just as well not to raise a question which might get himself into a scrape; in short, nothing was thought or said about it by anybody.A few days before my mother quitted Chatham I went up to London to receive the money, and then went to Portsmouth to repay the portion belonging to Bob Cross. I found that Bob had made good use of his time, and that the old smuggler now received him as a suitor to his niece.As however, Mary was still very young—not yet seventeen—and Bob had acknowledged that he had not laid by much money as yet, the old man had insisted that Bob Cross should get another ship, and try a voyage or two more before he was spliced; and to this arrangement both the mother and Mary persuaded him to consent. I went to call upon them with Bob, and did all I could, without stating what was not true, to give the old man a favourable opinion of Cross. I even went so far as to say that if he could not procure another vessel, I was ready to put down a sum of money to assist him; and so I was; and had it been requisite, I have no doubt but that my mother would have advanced it; but Bob, a fine seaman, not yet thirty years old, was always sure of a ship—that is, a man-of-war. To save himself from impressment, Cross had dressed himself in long toggery as a captain of a merchant vessel, and was believed to be such.Having satisfied myself that everything went on favourably in that quarter, I again returned to Chatham, that I might escort my mother and grandmother into Devonshire. We bade farewell to my aunt and Captain Bridgeman, and set off for London, where we remained a few days at an hotel, and then took the day coach down to Ilfracombe, where my mother had decided upon taking up her future residence, changing her name to Ogilvie, which had been my grandmother’s maiden name.Ilfracombe was then a beautiful retired spot, and well suited to my mother from its cheapness: with their joint incomes, my grandmother and she could command anything they wished. We soon hired a very pretty little cottageornée, ready furnished, as my mother would not furnish a house until she had ascertained whether there were no drawbacks to the locality. I ought to observe, that my grandmother now appeared quite as partial to me as she had before been otherwise. I treated her with great respect.Although it was not difficult to obtain a renewal of leave from a guard-ship, after I had remained six weeks with my mother, it was necessary that I should make my appearance at Portsmouth. It was arranged that I should take my departure for Portsmouth in three days, when, on reading the Plymouth newspaper, I learnt that the newly-launched frigate Manilla, of 44 guns, was put in commission, and that the Honourable Captain Delmar had come down and hoisted his pennant. This, of course, changed my plans. I resolved to set off for Plymouth, and wait upon Captain Delmar. I wrote to Bob Cross, enclosing an order for my chest and bedding on board of the guard-ship at Portsmouth, acquainting him with my intention, but requesting him not to act until he heard from me again.I had a long conversation with my mother, from whom I obtained a renewal of her promise to abide and act by my instructions. I took a respectful farewell of my grandmother, who gave me 100 pounds, which I did not want, as my mother had given me a similar sum, and then set off for Plymouth.The reader may perhaps inquire how it was that Captain Delmar—as he had promised to pay my expenses—had not made any offer of the kind, or communicated with me on the subject? But the fact was, that he knew I had three years’ pay due, besides the prize-money for the Dutch frigate, which, however, I had not yet received, although it was payable. In pecuniary matters I was certainly well off, as my mother desired that I would draw for any money that I required, feeling convinced that, being aware of her circumstances, I should not distress her by any extravagancies in that she did me justice.I was now eighteen years old, and just starting again on my career. As I grew up, my likeness to Captain Delmar became more remarkable every day. My mother could not help observing it even to me. “I almost wish that it was not so, my dear mother. I fear it will be the cause of annoyance to Captain Delmar; but it cannot be helped. At all events, it must satisfy him, allowing that he has any doubt (which I am sure he has not), that I am his own child.”“That I believe to be quite unnecessary,” replied my mother with a deep sigh.“I should think so too, my dear mother,” replied I, caressing her kindly. “At all events, I will prove, whether I ever obtain it or not, that I am not unworthy of the name of Delmar: but I must wait no longer—the coach is about to start. Adieu, and may God bless you.”On my arrival at Plymouth—or Plymouth Dock, as Devonport was then called—I inquired at which hotel Captain Delmar had taken up his quarters. It was the one to which I had intended to have gone myself; but I immediately had my luggage taken to another, for I really believe that Delmar would have considered it a great liberty for any one of his officers to presume, to lie down in the same caravanserai as himself. The next morning I sent up my name and was admitted.“Good morning, Mr Keene,” said the captain. “I presume that you have come down to request to join my ship, and I therefore consent before you make the request. I trust you will always show the same zeal and deference to your officers that you did in the Calliope. You have grown very much, and are now a young man. I shall give you the rating of mate, and I trust you will not do discredit to my patronage.”“I trust not, Captain Delmar,” replied I. “I have but one wish in the world, which is to please you, who have so befriended me from my boyhood. I should be very ungrateful if I did not do my duty with zeal and fidelity; I am indebted to you for everything, and I am aware I must look to you for every future prospect. I have to thank you, sir, for your great kindness in publishing my name in the public Gazette.”“You deserved it, Mr Keene, and it certainly will be of great advantage to you when you have served your time. Has your time gone on since the Calliope was paid off?”“Yes, sir; I am still on the books of the Salvadore?”“How much time have you served?”“Nearly four years and a half, sir.”“Well, the rest will soon be over; and if you do your duty, my patronage shall not be wanting.”Here there was a bow on my part, and a pause, and I was backing out with another bow, when the captain said, “How is your mother, Mr Keene?”“She has been advised to retire from business, and to settle in the country,” replied I, mournfully; “her health is such, that—” Here I stopped, as I preferred deceiving him by implication, or rather allowing him to deceive himself.“I am sorry to hear that,” replied he; “but she never was strong as a young woman.” Here the captain stopped, as if he had said too much.“No, sir,” replied I; “when in the service of Mrs Delmar she could not be put to anything that required fatigue.”“Very true,” replied the captain. “You may go on board, Mr Keene, and desire my clerk to make out a letter, requesting your discharge from the Salvadore into the Manilla. Do you require anything?”“No, sir, I thank you. I need not trespass on your generosity just now. Good morning, sir.”“Good morning, Mr Keene.”“I beg your pardon Captain Delmar,” said I, as I held the door ajar; “but should you like Robert Cross, your former coxswain, should join you in the same capacity? I know where he is.”“Yes, Mr Keene, I should like to have him: he was a steady, good man. You will oblige me by writing to him, and requesting him to join immediately. Where is he?”“At Portsmouth, Captain Delmar.”“Very well; tell him to come round as fast as he can. By the bye, you will have two of your old messmates—Mr Smith, the master, and Mr Dott. I hope the latter is a little more steady than he was. I was in hopes to have had your old acquaintance, Mr Culpepper, with us; but he died about six weeks back—a fit, or something of that kind.”“Thank heaven for that,” thought I. Again I made my most respectful bow, and quitted the room.I returned to my own hotel, and sitting down, I began to reflect upon the interview. I recalled all that had passed, and I made up my mind that I was right in preparing him for the report of my mother’s death: his reception of me was all that I could have expected from him—it was cordial; but my blood boiled when I called to mind that he had only made a casual inquiry after my mother, as I was leaving the room; and then his checking himself because he had inadvertently said that she was not strong when she was a young woman. “Yes,” thought I; “he cannot bear the remembrance of the connection; and it is only for myself, and not from any natural affection of a parent, that he cares for me; or if he does care for me as his son, it is because I have his blood in my veins; and he despises and looks down upon the mother. I am sure that he will be anything but sorry to hear that my mother is dead, and he shall be gratified. I will now write to her.”I could not help observing that there was some change in the appearance of Captain Delmar. Strange to say, he looked more youthful; and as I compared our two faces in the mirror on the mantel-piece behind him, when I stood up, he appeared more like me in appearance than ever. What was it? “Oh!” thought I, “I have it. His hair is no longer mixed with grey: he must wear a wig.” This was the fact, as I afterwards ascertained; the colour of his wig was, however, much darker than my own hair.By the same post I wrote to Bob Cross, acquainting him with what had passed, and begging him to come round by the first water conveyance, and bring my chest and bedding with him. I then walked down to the dockyard to have a look at the Manilla, which was, as I had heard, a splendid vessel; went up again to order a mate’s uniform, and returned to the hotel. It was useless going to the ship at that time, as the marines and boys had only been drafted into her that morning; and there was nothing to do until she was clear of the shipwrights, who were still on board of her, and employed in every part of her. The first lieutenant had not yet come down. The master was the only officer who had joined, and he had hoisted the pennant. I was delighted to find that he was to sail with us; and we passed that evening together.During the evening the master said, “I hear there are plenty of good men stowed away by the crimps at different places. I wish we could only find out where they are, and get hold of them. I fear, if we do not, we shall either be badly manned in haste from the Tower tender, or have to wait a long while before we sail. Now, Keene, don’t you think you could manage so as to get us some men?”“I’ve got one already,” replied I: “Bob Cross, the captain’s coxswain.”“And a real good one too,” replied the master; “the best helmsman we had in the Calliope. You and he were very thick together.”“Yes,” replied I: “when I came on board, a mere lad, he was very kind to me, and I am very partial to him in consequence.”That night after the master and I had parted, I thought over the question he had put to me, as to obtaining good seamen for the ship, and I made up my mind that I would wait till Cross arrived, and consult with him as to a project which I had in my head. In the mean time I went to a slop-shop by the dockyard wall, and provided myself with a common sailor’s toggery, of the real cut, with a banyan covered hat, and all complete. Three days afterwards Cross joined me, having found a passage round in a cutter; and as soon as I had talked over his affairs, I proposed my plan to him, in which he heartily coincided.That I did this to please the captain is certain: I had no other view. It was necessary, however, that I obtained the captain’s permission, and I went to him and explained my ideas. The captain was too willing to let me try it, and thanked me for my zeal.“Go on board, Mr Keene, and tell them I have given you six weeks’ leave of absence, and then you can do as you propose.”I did so, for it was absolutely necessary that as few as possible should be acquainted with what I was about, as I ran a great risk. I have no hesitation in saying that I should have been made away with by the crimps, had they discovered me.I dressed myself as a common seaman, darkened my face, and dirtied myself a little, especially on the hands, and Bob Cross and I then went at night into one of the low public houses, with which the town is filled; there we pretended to be much alarmed lest we should be pressed, and asked for a back-room to smoke and drink in. We called in the landlord, telling him we were second mates of vessels, and not secure from the impress; that we never were at Plymouth before, our ships having put in damaged, and that the crew were discharged; and asked if there was no safe place where we could be stowed until we could find another vessel ready to start.He replied, that there was a house at Stonehouse where we could be quite safe; but that, of course, we must pay the crimps well for our board and lodging and that they would find us a ship when we wished to go; and further, that we must give him something handsome for taking us there. To this we agreed, and at midnight we set off in company with our landlord, each of us carrying our bundles, and in less than an hour arrived at a sort of farm-house detached from the road.After a short parley we obtained entrance, and were taken into a small room where the crimp inquired of us what money we had, and then told us what his charges were. The reason of his doing this was, because if we had no money, or very little, he would have disposed of us very soon by sending us on board of some ship, and obtaining an advance of our wages from the captain as his indemnification; but if we had plenty of money, he would then keep us as long as he could that he might make his profit of us; his charges were monstrous, as may be supposed, and we had replied that we had very little money. We contrived to look as careless and indifferent as we could, agreed to everything, paid the landlord of the pothouse a guinea each for taking us to the house, and were then ushered into a large room, where we found about twenty seamen sitting at a long table, drinking, and playing cards and dominoes.They did not appear to notice us, they were so busy either playing or looking on. Cross called for a pot of ale, and we sat down at the farther end of the table.“What a dislike the men must have to the press,” said Cross to me, “when they submit to be mured up here in prison.”“Yes, and cheated by such a scoundrel as the crimp appears to be.”“Don’t talk so loud, Jack,” replied Cross; for I had insisted upon his calling me Jack, “lest we should be overheard.”We then asked to go to bed, and were shown by the crimp into a room which had about fourteen beds in it.“You may take your choice of those five,” said he, pointing to five nearest the door: “I always come up and take away the candle.”As we found some of the other beds occupied, we did not resume our conversation, but went to sleep.The next morning we found that we mustered about thirty-five, many of the more steady men having gone to bed before we arrived. After breakfast, Cross and I each entered into conversation with a man, and pumped them very cleverly. Our chief object was, to ascertain the houses of the other crimps, and, as the men knew most of them, having invariably resorted to them at the end of their voyages, we obtained the locality of five or six, all apparently public-houses, but having back premises for the concealment of seamen: all these were carefully noted down.As we became more intimate, the seamen, who were glad to talk, from weariness of confinement, asked us many questions. We said that we had deserted from a man-of-war, and then a hundred questions were asked us as to our treatment. I allowed Bob Cross to be spokesman, and his replies were very sensible. He told them that all depended upon what sort of captains and first lieutenants were on board; that he had been pressed twice: the first time he was comfortable enough, and made 200 pounds prize-money in eight months; but in the last man-of-war he was very uncomfortable, and had therefore cut and run. Altogether, he made the service appear much more favourable than they supposed, although the crimp, who had stood by, did all he could to persuade the men to the contrary.We remained in this house for more than a week, and then declared that we had no more money, and must find a ship. The crimp said that he had a berth for one of us as second mate of a brig, and I agreed to take it, leaving Bob Cross to get a berth for himself as soon as he could. As I raid up, there was no demand upon the owners of the vessel, and it was arranged that I should be down at a certain wharf at three o’clock in the morning, when I should find a boat waiting for me. I waited up with Bob Cross until the clock had struck two, and then the crimp let me out. He did not offer to go down with me, as he had no money to receive; and, as it was pitch-dark, there was little chance of my being picked up by a press-gang at that hour. I wished Cross good-bye, and set off for Plymouth Dock with my bundle on my stick.Not knowing where to go at such an hour, I walked about to see if I could perceive a light in any house: I did so at last through the chinks of the shutters of a small ale-house, and tapped at the door; it was opened, I was ushered in, and the door closed immediately upon me. I found myself in the presence of several marines with their side-arms, and seamen with cutlasses. An officer started up from his seat, and collaring me said, “You’re just the fellow we want. We’re in luck to-night.” In fact, I was in the hands of a press-gang, and I was pressed myself.“Yes, he’ll do: he’ll make a capital maintop-man,” said a midshipman, getting up and surveying me.I looked at him, and perceived my old acquaintance Mr Tommy Dott, grown a great deal taller; I perceived that he did not recognise me. “But, sir,” said I to the officer of the party, who was so disguised that I could not tell his rank, “suppose I belong to a man-of-war already?”“That you do not; or if you do, you must be a deserter, my good fellow; that is evident by your stick and bundle. Now sit down and drink some beer, if you like; you are going to serve in a fine frigate—you may as well make yourself comfortable, for we shall not go on board yet, for this hour.”I determined to keep up myincognito, as it amused me. I sat down, and it then occurred to me that my not going on board of the vessel might lead to an explanation with the crimp, and that an alarm might be created and the men dispersed in consequence. There were still two hours to daylight, and if I could take up the press-gang, we might secure all the men in the house before the dawn of day.As I had just made up my mind to act, there was a stamping of feet outside and a knock at the door. When it was opened, another portion of the press-gang, headed by another officer, entered. I counted heads, and found that they mustered thirty hands—quite sufficient, as they were armed, to secure all my late companions. I therefore went up to the officer, and begged to speak with him aside.I then told him that I had just come from a crimp’s house near Stonehouse, where I left in their beds thirty-five as fine men as ever walked a plank, and that, as I was pressed myself, I did not mind telling him where they were, and he could take them all.The officer curled up his lip, as if to say, “You’re a pretty scoundrel to betray your companions,” but immediately resolved to act upon it. Without stating his intentions, he ordered all the men out, and putting me between two marines, so as to prevent my escaping, I was desired to lead on. I did so, and we proceeded in silence until we arrived near to the house. I then pointed out to the officer that it must be surrounded, or the men would escape, and that it must be done very carefully, as there was a large dog which would be sure to give the alarm. My advice was attended to, and when all the men were at their stations, the whole advanced slowly towards the house. The dog commenced baying, as I had foreseen, and shortly afterwards the crimp put his head out of a window, and perceived that the press-gang were below. But all attempts to force an entrance were in vain, every window below, and the doors, being secured with iron bars.“Is there no way of getting into this den?” said the officer to me.“Why sir, I’ll try.”As Bob Cross had given another name, I knew that I risked nothing in calling out his, and I therefore requested the officer to impose silence, and when it was obtained, I cried out, “Bob Cross! Bob Cross!! Where’s Bob Cross?”After that, I went to the small door at the side of the house, which led to the homestead, and again cried out, “Bob Cross!—where’s Bob Cross?”I then told the officer that we must wait patiently, and that if it was daylight before we got in, all the better.About ten minutes after that, as I remained at the small door, I heard the bars quietly removed; I then requested the officer to attempt to force the small door, and it yielded almost immediately to their efforts.“Now, sir, leave a guard at the other door, that they may not open it, and escape by it, also five or six hands to catch any who may jump out of the upper windows, and then enter with the rest of your party.”“You know what you are about, at all events,” said he, giving the directions which I had pointed out, and then entering with the remainder of his party, with the exception of one marine that held me by the arm, with his bayonet drawn.The scuffle within was very severe, and lasted for many minutes: at last, the armed force, although not so numerous, prevailed, and one by one, the men were brought out, and taken charge of by the marines, until the whole of them were discovered in their retreats, and secured.Day now dawned, and it was time to be off. To make more secure, the pressed men were lashed two and two, with small rope, which had been provided on purpose. Bob Cross, who, of course, had not mixed in the affray, gave me a nod of recognition, and we set off as fast as the men could be persuaded to move; certainly not a very gay procession, for although the wounds were not dangerous, there was scarcely one of the party, amounting in all to upwards of sixty men, who was not bleeding. Hardly a word was exchanged. We were all put into the boats, and rowed off to the hulk appropriated to the crew of the frigate, until she was rigged, and as soon as we were on board, we were put below under the charge of sentries.“What! you here?” said some of the pressed men.“Yes,” replied I: “they picked me up as I went to ship myself last night.” The crimp, who had been brought on board with the others, then started forward. “It is he who has blown upon us; I’ll swear to it.”“You may swear if you please,” replied I; “that will do you no good, and me no harm.”The crimp talked with the other men, and then indignation was levelled against me. Most of them swore they would be even with me, and have my life if they could; indeed, they could hardly be prevented laying hands upon me; but Bob Cross told the sentry, and he interfered with his bayonet; notwithstanding which, fists continued to be shook in my face, and vengeance threatened every minute.“I told you, my lads,” said Bob Cross, “that I have been on board of a man-of-war before this, and you’d better mind what you’re about, or you’ll repent it; at all events, if one of you touches him, you’ll have five dozen lashes at the gangway before to-morrow morning.”This made the poor fellows more quiet; most of them lay down, and tried to sleep off their misery.“Why don’t you make yourself known, Mr Keene?” said Cross to me, in a whisper: “I saw the master go on the quarterdeck just now.”“I think I had better not: there are more houses to examine, and if my trick was known, it would soon get wind from the women, and I should be waylaid, and perhaps murdered by the crimps. The captain will be on board by ten o’clock, I have no doubt, and then I will contrive to see him, somehow or another.”“But you could trust the master—why not see him?”“I’ll think of it—but there’s no hurry.”I was afraid that Tommy Dott would have discovered me, and I kept out of his way as much as I could.“I’ll tell you what, sir—as I’ve not joined the ship, why not let it be supposed that I am impressed with the other men, and then I can send for Mr Dott and make myself known? The commanding officer will, of course, send for me, and I will enter, and then I shall be allowed to go about, and can speak to the captain when he comes on board.”“Well, that is not a bad idea. Talk to the sentry.”“Who’s the captain of this ship, sentry?” said Bob Cross.“Captain Delmar.”“Delmar!—why, he’s my old captain. Did not I see a Mr Dott, a midshipman?”“Yes there is a Mr Dott on board.”“Well, I wish you would just pass the word to Mr Dott, to say that one of the pressed men wishes to speak to him.”The sentry did so, and Mr Dott came down.“How d’ye do, Mr Dott?” said Bob Cross, while I turned away.“What Cross, is that you? Are you dressed?”“Yes, sir, can’t be helped. I’m glad I’m to sail with you, sir. What’s become of Mr Keene?”“Oh, I don’t know; but if he’s not hanged by this time, I believe that he’s to join the ship.”“Won’t I pull your ears for that?” thought I.“What other officers have we of the Calliope, sir?”“There’s the master, Mr Smith, and the surgeon.”“Well, Mr Dott, one must always make a virtue of necessity. Tell Mr Smith that I shall enter for the ship; and I’ll put my name down at once, instead of being penned up here.”“That’s right, Cross; and I say, you chaps, you’d better follow a good example. Sentry, let this man go with me.”Bob Cross then went with Tommy Dott, and entered for the service. The master was very glad to see him again and said, “Why, Cross, Mr Keene said that you had promised him to join us.”“Why, sir, so I had; but it’s a long story. However, it’s all the same in the end: here I am, and I hope I shall get my old rating.”Soon after, Bob Cross came down and said, “Well, my lads, I’m free now, and I advise you all to do the same. Come, Jack,” said he to me, “what d’ye say?”“No, no,” replied I. “I won’t unless all the rest do.”Bob then took me on one side, and told me what had taken place, and asked me what he should say to the captain. I told him, and then he left us.At ten o’clock the captain came on board. Bob Cross went up to him and said he wished to say something to him in the cabin. He followed the captain down, and then explained to him that I was among the pressed men but as a means of obtaining plenty more men, I had remained among them, and had not made myself known, for fear my trick should get wind; also that I thought the crimp should be kept on board, although he was of no use as a seaman.“Mr Keene has behaved very prudently,” replied Captain Delmar. “I understand his motives—leave the rest to me.”A few minutes after Bob had communicated to me what the captain had said, the pressed men were ordered up, and ranged along the quarter-deck. A finer set of men I never saw together: and they all appeared to be, as they afterwards proved to be prime seamen. The captain called them one by one and questioned them. He asked them to enter, but they refused. The crimp begged hard to be released. Their names were all put down on the ship’s book together.The captain, turning to me—for I had stood up the last of the row—said, “I understand the officer of the impress agreed to release you if you would tell him where your comrades were. I don’t like losing a good man, but still I shall let you go in consequence of the promise being made. There, you may take a boat and go on shore.”“Thank your honour,” replied I. I went to the gangway immediately; but I never shall forget the faces of the pressed men when I passed them: they looked as if I had a thousand lives, and they had stomach enough to take them all.I went on shore immediately, and going to my hotel, washed the colour and dirt off my face, dressed myself in my mate’s uniform, and went to the hotel where the captain lived. I found that he had just come on shore, and I sent up my name, and I was admitted. I then told the captain the information which we had received with regard to nine or ten more houses, and that I thought I might now go on board, and never be recognised.“You have managed extremely well,” replied Captain Delmar; “we have made a glorious haul: but I think it will be better that you do not go on board; the press-gang shall meet you every night, and obey your orders.” I bowed, and walked out of the room.The next night, and several subsequent ones, the press-gang came on shore, and, from the information I had received, we procured in the course of a fortnight more than two hundred good seamen. Some of the defences were most desperate: fort as one crimp’s house after another was forced, they could not imagine how they could have been discovered; but it put them all on their guard; and on the last three occasions the merchant seamen were armed and gave us obstinate fights; however, although the wounds were occasionally severe, there was no loss of life.Having expended all my knowledge, I had nothing more to do than go on board, which I did, and was kindly received by the master and the other officers, who had been prepossessed in my favour. Such was the successful result of my plan. The crimp we did not allow to go on shore, but discharged him into a gun-brig, the captain of which was a notorious martinet; and I have no doubt, being aware of his character and occupation, that he kept his word, when he told Captain Delmar that he would make the ship a hell to him—“and sarve him right too,” said Bob Cross, when he heard of it; “the money that these rascals obtain from the seamen, Mr Keene, is quite terrible; and the poor fellows, after having earned it by two or three years’ hard work, go to prison in a crimp-house to spend it, or rather to be swindled out of it. It is these fellows that raise such reports against the English navy, that frighten the poor fellows so; they hear of men being flogged until they die under the lash, and all the lies that can be invented. Not that the masters of the merchant vessels are at all backward in disparaging the service, but threaten to send a man on board a man-of-war for a punishment, if he behaves ill—that itself is enough to raise a prejudice against the service. Now, sir, I can safely swear that there is more cruelty and oppression—more ill-treatment and more hard work—on board of a merchantman, than on board any man-of-war. Why so? Because there is no control over the master of a merchant vessel, while the captain of a man-of-war is bound down by strict regulations, which he dare not disobey. We see many reports in the newspapers of the ill-treatment on of merchant vessels; but for one that is made known, ninety-nine are passed over; for a seaman has something else to do than to be kicking his heels at a magistrate’s office; and when he gets clear of his vessel, with his pay in his pocket, he prefers to make merry and forget his treatment, to seeking revenge. I say again, sarve that crimp right, and I hope that he’ll get a lash for every pound which he has robbed from the poor seamen.”I may as well inform the reader that, as it is mostly the case after the men have been impressed, nearly the whole of them entered the service; and when, some time afterwards, they ascertained that it was I that had tricked them, so far from feeling the ill-will towards me that they had on their first coming on board, they laughed very much at my successful plan, and were more partial to me than to any other of the officers.Our frigate was now well manned, and nearly ready for sea. I wrote to my mother, enclosing the heads of a letter to her which she should send to Captain Delmar, and in a day or two I received an answer, with a copy of what she had sent. It was to the effect that I was now going away for the second time, and that it was possible she might never see me or Captain Delmar again; that she wished him success and happiness, and begged him, in case she should be called away, not to forget his promises to her, or what she had undergone for his sake; but she trusted entirely to him, and that he would watch over me and my interests, even more out of regard to her memory, than if she were alive to support my claims upon him.The letter was given to Captain Delmar when he was on the quarter-deck, and he went with it down below. He came on deck shortly afterwards. I looked at him but did not perceive that he was in any way put out or moved by its reception. Claims for past services, whether upon the country or upon individuals, are seldom well received; like the payment of a tavern bill, after we have done with the enjoyments, we seem inclined to cavil at each separate item—ainsi va le monde.It was reported down at Mutton Cove, that our ship, which sailed with sealed orders was to be sent to the West Indies. This the captain did not expect or wish, as he had had enough of the tropics already. When he, however, opened his orders, it was found that Mutton Cove was correct, and the captain’s instructions were, to seek the admiral of the station with all possible dispatch.We carried sail day and night, and as the Manilla proved a remarkably fast sailer, we were very soon in Carlisle Bay, Barbadoes, where we found the admiral and six sail of the line, and a few smaller vessels. As soon as the despatches were opened by the admiral, our signal, as well as that of all the smaller vessels, was made, and before the evening we had spread our canvas in every direction, being sent to recall the whole of the disposable force to rendezvous at Carlisle Bay. We knew that something was in the wind, but what, we had no idea of. Our orders were to proceed to Halifax, and we had a quick passage. We found two frigates there, and we gave them their instructions; and then, having remained only twenty-four hours, we all made sail together for Barbadoes.On our arrival there, we round the bay crowded with vessels: twenty-eight sail of pennants and a fleet of transports, containing ten thousand troops. Three days afterwards the signal was made to weigh, and the whole fleet stood out from Carlisle Bay, it being now well known that the capture of the island of Martinique was the object of the expedition. On the third day we arrived off the island, and our troops were disembarked at two points, expecting to meet with strong opposition. Such, however, to our surprise, was not the case. It appeared that the militia of the island, being composed of slaves, and who were sent to oppose us, did not consider that slavery was worth fighting for quite as well as liberty, and therefore very quietly walked home again, leaving the governor and regular troops to decide the question as to whether the island was for the future to belong to the French or English. But the two following days there was some hard fighting, and our troops, although they advanced, had a severe loss. The French retired from the advanced posts to Fort Dessaix, and we obtained possession of the fort on Point Salamon.The next point to be attacked was Pigeon Island, and there the navy were called into action; we had to get the carronades and mortars up a hill almost inaccessible; we did it, much to the surprise of the troops, who could hardly believe it when the battery opened fire. After a brisk cannonading of ten hours, Pigeon Island surrendered, and then the admiral stood into, and anchored the fleet in Fort Royal Bay; not, however, in time to prevent the French from setting fire to the frigates which were in the harbour. A few days after, the town of St. Pierre and the town of Fort Royal surrendered, and Fort Dessaix only held out. For more than a week we were very busy constructing batteries and landing cannon and mortars; and when all was ready, the bombardment of Fort Dessaix commenced, and five days afterwards the French capitulated, and the island was formally surrendered to the English.I have hurried over the capture, as it has oftentimes been described in detail. All I can say is, that it was very hard work for the seamen, and that they had their full share of the fatigue; but, from the peculiar nature of the service, an affair took place which was of much importance to me. I said before that the sailors were employed in the hard duty of getting the guns, etcetera, on shore, and up to where the batteries were to be erected—in short, working like slaves in the heat of the sun, while the troops remained quiet investing the fort. There was no objection raised to this, and the seamen worked very willingly; but the staff and mounted officers of the army, who rode to and fro giving orders, were not quite as civil as they might be—that is, some of them; and a certain feeling of dissension and ill-will was created in consequence.The junior officers of the navy, and the lieutenants who could be spared to direct the labour of the seamen on shore, received occasionally very harsh language from some of the military officers, and did not fail to give very prompt replies to those who they did not consider had any right to control them. Complaints were made to the captains of the men-of-war, and, on being investigated, the result generally was, that the captains defended their officers, and the military gentlemen obtained no redress. The active service, however, did not admit of any notice being taken of it at the time; but after the island had surrendered, these unfortunate animosities were resumed.A few days after the capture of the island, the prisoners and troops were embarked an the fleet sailed, a sufficient garrison being left upon the island for its defence. The admiral also thought proper to leave two or three men-of-war in the harbour, and our frigate was one. For the first few days everything went on smoothly. The French inhabitants were soon on good terms with us, and balls and parties had commenced; but the seamen and soldiers, when they met at the liquor-stores, began to quarrel as to which branch of the service had done most towards the taking the island. This will always be the case with people so addicted to intoxication. Several severe wounds were received in the various skirmishes which took place, and at last the seamen were interdicted from going on shore. Indeed, as they were not armed, and the soldiers carried their bayonets, it was too unequal a contest when an affray took place; but the ill-will spread, and at last arrived to the superior officers.The consequence was, that a challenge was given to one of the captains of the frigates by an adjutant. It was accepted; but not an hour after it was accepted, the captain was taken with a fever, and on the morning of the following day, when the duel was to have taken place, he was not able to quit his bed; and the military gentlemen, on arriving at the ground, found an excuse instead of an antagonist. Whether it was really supposed that the fever was a mere excuse to avoid the duel, or that the animosity prevailing gave rise to the report, certain it is, that there were many sneers on the part of the military men, and great indignation on the tart of the naval officers; who, if they could have so done, would have gone on shore on purpose to insult every officer they could meet who wore a red coat; but in consequence of this excitement being known all leave was prohibited.Captain Delmar, who was the naval commanding officer, had taken up his quarters on shore; he had done all he possibly could to prevent the unpleasant feeling from continuing, and had shown great forbearance and good sense: but it so happened that, being in company with some of the military staff, observations were made in his presence, relative to the conduct of the naval captain ill with the fever, that he could not permit. He gave a flat denial to them, and the consequence was, that language was used which left no alternative but a duel.This was the Monday night, and as it was too late then, it was agreed that the meeting should take place on the following evening at sunset. I believe this was proposed by Captain Delmar, in preference to the morning, as he knew his antagonist was a regular duellist and he wished to have the next day to put his affairs in order, previous to the meeting. I should here observe that the captain had not been on anything like intimate terms with his lieutenants. The surgeon and master were old shipmates, and with them he was sociable: whether it was that he did not choose to ask the favour of the commissioned officers, certain it is, that he sent for the master to be his second on the occasion, and on the master returning on board, he desired me to go on shore with the boat and take the captain’s pistols with me, but not to allow them to be seen by any one; a message was also sent for the surgeon to go on shore to the captain.When the surgeon and I arrived at the house where the captain resided, and were ushered up, the sitting-room was empty. I had put the case of pistols in a piece of canvas, so as to look like despatches about to be sent to England, and I uncovered them and placed them on one of the tables. A few minutes afterwards the captain came out, and I was very much surprised at his appearance; he was very flushed and heated in the face, and appeared to tremble as he walked. The surgeon also looked at him with surprise. We knew him to be incapable of fear, and yet he gave us the appearance of a person very much troubled.“Doctor,” said he, “I am glad that you are come. I feel very unwell—feel my pulse.”“Yes, sir,” said the doctor, “that you certainly are; you have the same fever on you as Captain W. Singular.”“Yes, but it will be rather too singular, doctor. Poor W had obloquy enough on account of his illness; and if a second captain in the navy were to be obliged to send a similar excuse, we should be at a pretty discount with the red-coats. If you can do any thing for me, do; but it must be perfectly understood that fight to-morrow evening I will, even if I am carried to the ground.”“Certainly, Captain Delmar, if it is possible. I think that a little blood must be taken from you immediately, and probably the fever may subside.”But before his arm could be bound up, the captain became incoherent in his discourse; and after the bleeding had been performed, when he attempted to look at his papers, he was so confused that he found it impossible, and was obliged to be put to bed immediately. When the surgeon came out of his bed-room, he said to us, “He’ll never get up to fight that duel, depend upon it; the fever increases—it may be that he may never rise again—I fear it is the yellow fever.”“A bad job,” replied the master—“a very bad job indeed; two captains in the navy receiving challenges, and both sending excuses on account of illness. The service will be disgraced. I’ll fight the soldier myself.”“That will never do,” replied the surgeon; “it will not help the captain that he has sent one of his officers in his stead. Steward, make a bed up here in this room; I shall not leave the house to-night.”“It’s of no use my staying here,” observed the master: “nor you either, Keene: let’s go on board, and we will be here early to-morrow morning. Confounded bad job this. Good-bye.”The master and I returned to the boat. I had been reflecting a good deal on the disgrace which would, at all events for a certain period, be thrown upon the service and Captain Delmar by this unfortunate circumstance, and before I had gone up the ship’s side I had made up my mind. As soon as we were on board, I requested the master to allow me to speak to him in his cabin; and when we were there, after canvassing the question, and pointing out to him what discredit would ensue, and working him up into a great state of irritation, I then proposed to him what I considered to be the best course to pursue. “Every one says how like I am to Captain Delmar, Mr Smith,” said I.“If you were his own son, you could not be more so,” replied the master.“Well, sir, I am now as tall as he is: the colour of my hair is lighter, certainly; but the captain wears a wig. Now, sir, I am perfectly sure that if I were to put on the captain’s uniform and wig, as the duel is to take place in the evening, they never could find out that it was not the captain; and as for a good shot, I think I can hit a button as well as the best duellist in existence.”The master bit his lips, and was silent for a short time. At last he said, “What you propose is certainly very easy; but why should you risk your life for Captain Delmar?”“Why, did you not offer to do it just now for the honour of the service? I have that feeling, and moreover wish to serve Captain Delmar, who has been my patron. What’s the life of a midshipman worth, even if I were to fall?—nothing.”“That’s true enough,” replied the master bluntly; and then correcting himself, he added, “that is, midshipmen in general; but I think you may be worth something by-and-by. However, Keene, I do think, on the whole, it’s a very good plan; and if the Captain is not better to-morrow, we will then consider it more seriously. I have an idea that you are more likely to pin the fellow than the captain, who, although as brave a man as can be, he has not, I believe, fired twenty pistols in his life. Good night; and I hardly need say we must keep our secret.”“Never fear, sir. Good night.”I went to my hammock, quite overjoyed at the half-consent given by the master to my proposition. It would give me such a claim on Captain Delmar, if I survived; and if I fell, at all events he would cherish my memory; but as for falling, I felt sure that I should not. I had a presentiment (probably no more than the buoyant hope of youth) that I should be the victor. At all events, I went to sleep very soundly, and did not wake until I was roused up by the quartermaster on the following morning.After breakfast the master requested a boat to be manned, and we went on shore. On our arrival at the house, we found the surgeon in great anxiety: the captain was in a state of delirium, and the fever was at the highest.“How is he?” demanded the master.“More likely to go out of the world himself than to send another out of it,” replied the surgeon. “He cannot well be worse, and that is all that I can say. He has been raving all night, and I have been obliged to take nearly two pounds of blood from him; and, Mr Keene,” continued the surgeon, “he talks a great deal of you and other persons. You may go in to him, if you please; for I have as much as possible kept the servants away—they will talk.”“Bob Cross is down below, sir,” replied I: “he is the safest man to wait upon him.”“I agree with you, Keene—send for him, and he shall remain at his bedside.”The master then spoke with the surgeon, and communicated my proposition; and the surgeon replied, “Well, from what I have learned this night, there is no person who has so great a right to take his place; and perhaps it will be as well, both for the captain’s sake and his own; at all events, I will go with you, and, in case of accident, do my best.”
My reply was immediate. I thanked him for his kindness, and hoped I might remain on board the guard-ship until he took the command of another vessel, as I did not wish to sail with any other captain. I had been brought forward by him in the service, and preferred waiting for months rather than lose his kind protection.
The only reply to my letter was an order from the Admiralty, for me to be discharged into the guard-ship when the Calliope was paid off.
I hardly need say that I had written and received letters from my mother, who was delighted at my name being mentioned in the despatches; but I will defer family news till the proper opportunity, as I must first tell all that occurred in the Calliope before she was paid off.
The reader will recollect that the son of the Dutch captain, whose name was Vangilt, had been permitted to come home in the ship, instead of being sent to prison. He and I were very intimate and when I discovered that he was the cousin of Minnie Vanderwelt, I became more partial to him. He was very melancholy during the passage home; how, indeed, could he be otherwise, with the prospect of being a prisoner during the remainder of the war? and he often expressed his feelings on the subject.
“Could you not escape?” said I, one evening.
“I fear not,” replied he. “If once out of prison, I have no doubt but that I could get a conveyance over the Channel by means of the smugglers; indeed, I have connections in England who would assist me.”
When Captain Delmar went away to town, he had quite forgotten the poor fellow, and Mr Weymss, who was the commanding officer, did not make any special report of him as he thought he might defer it till the last moment, as every day out of prison would be so much gained by young Vangilt, who was a general favourite.
In this instance, my regard for the young man made me quite forget my duty as an officer, and the Articles of War. I knew that I was about to do wrong; but I considered that, with so many thousand prisoners which we had in England, one more or less could be of no consequence, and I set to work to see if I could not effect his escape.
After much cogitation, I found I could do nothing without Bob Cross and I consulted with him. Bob shook his head, and said it was, he believed, hanging matter; but, after all, it was a pity that such a nice lad should be peeping between iron bars. “Besides,” continued he, “he lost his father in the action, and he ought not to lose his liberty also. Well, Mr Keene, show me how I can help you.”
“Why, Bob there’s a very pretty little girl, who very often comes alongside with the old woman, and you go down into the boat and talk with her.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Bob, “that’s the little girl I told you of, that used to repeat her fables on my knee. The fact is, I hope to splice her some of these days. It’s her mother who is with her, and she will not let her come on board to mix with the other women, because she is good and modest; too good for me, I’m afraid, in one sense of the word.”
“How do you mean Bob?”
“Why, sir, when I first knew her, she and her mother were living upon what they could earn, for the father was killed in action many years ago, and I used to help them as far as I could; but now I find that, although they are not changed, things are, most confoundedly. Her uncle lost his wife; he is considered a rich man, and being stone blind, and having no one to take care of him after his wife’s death, he sent for this girl and her mother to keep his house and he is very fond of the girl, and declares that he will leave her all his money, and that she shall marry well. Now, sir, if she was to marry me, a petty officer only, it would not be considered that she married well; so you see, sir, there’s a hitch.”
“Who and what was he?”
“He was a smuggler, sir, and a very successful one; he has six or seven houses, all his own property besides the one he lives in himself. He lives about a quarter of a mile out of Gosport. I know all about him, although I have never seen him. Soon after he left off smuggling, he lost his eyesight, and, somehow or another, he considered it was a judgment upon him—at least his wife, who had joined the Ranters, persuaded him so—and so he took a religious turn, and now he does nothing but pray, and call himself a poor blind sinner.”
“Well, Bob, but I do not see why you should give up the girl.”
“No, sir; nor will she or her mother give me up. I could marry her to-morrow without his consent, but I do not like to do her that injury.”
“He is stone-blind, you say?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll talk your affair over another time. What I want at present is, to help this poor young Vangilt to escape. He says, that if once clear, the smugglers would put him on the other side of the water. Now, it appears to me that it would be very easy for him to get out of the ship unperceived, if he were dressed in woman’s clothes, so many women are going and coming all day long.”
“Very true, sir, especially on pay-day, when nobody keeps any look-out at all. I see now, you want some of Mary’s clothes for him; they would fit very well.”
“Exactly; and I think that, as her uncle had been a smuggler, we might go and consult him as to his escape over the water. Vangilt will pay 100 pounds with pleasure—he told me so. That will be an introduction for you as well as for me to the old fellow.”
“I think we had better let the old fellow suppose it’s a woman—don’t you, sir? But what shall we call ourselves?”
“Why, I will be a sort of agent for ships, an you shall be a captain.”
“A captain! Mr Keene.”
“Yes; a captain, who has had a ship, and expects another. Why, you were a captain of the fore-top before you were rated coxswain.”
“Well, sir, I must consult Mary and her mother, and then I’ll let you know: they will come this afternoon. Perhaps in helping Mr Vangilt, I may help myself.”
That night Bob Cross told me that Mary and her mother were quite willing to assist, and that they thought it would be a very good introduction to old Waghorn: that we must expect some religious scruples at first, but we must persevere, and they had no doubt that the old man would contrive to get the young man over to Cherbourg, or some other place on the other side; that we had better call on him in the evening, and they would be out of the way.
As soon as the work was over for the day, Bob Cross and I obtained leave, and set off for Mr Waghorn’s house. We were met by Mary and her mother, who pointed it out to us, and then continued their walk. We went to the door, and found the old man smoking his pipe.
“Who’s there?” cried he, as we lifted the latch of the gate.
“Friends, sir,” replied Cross; “two persons who come to talk on business.”
“Business! I’ve no business—I’ve done with business long ago: I think of nothing but my perishing soul—poor blind worm that I am.”
He was a very fine-looking old man, although weather-beaten, and his silver locks hung down on his collar; his beard was not shaved, but clipped with scissors: his want of sight gave him a mournful look.
“Nevertheless, sir, I must introduce myself and my friend, the captain,” replied I, “for we want your assistance.”
“My assistance! poor blind beetle—how can I assist you?”
“The fact is, sir, that a young woman is very anxious to return to her friends, on the other side of the water; and knowing that you have acquaintance with those who run to and fro, we thought you might help the poor young woman to a passage.”
“That’s to say, you’ve heard that I was a smuggler. People do say so; but, gentlemen, I now pay customs and excise—my tea has paid duty, and so has my tobacco; so does everything—the king has his own. The Bible says, ‘Render under Caesar the things which are Caesar’s.’ Gentlemen, I stand by the Bible. I am a poor, sinful old wretch—God forgive me.”
“We ask nothing against the Bible, Mr Waghorn; it’s our duty to assist those who are in distress; it’s only a poor young woman.”
“A poor young woman. If she’s poor, people don’t do such work for nothing; besides, it’s wrong, gentlemen—I’ve given up all that,—I’ve a precious soul to look after, and I can’t divert my attention from it. I wish you good-bye, gentlemen.”
At this moment Mary and her mother returned, and we rose up. “Mrs James, is that you and Mary? Here’s a captain and his friend come to me; but it’s a fool’s errand, and so I’ve told them.”
I then stated to Mrs James what we had come for, and begged that she would persuade Mr Waghorn.
“Well, Mr Waghorn, why won’t you?—it’s a good action, and will have its reward in heaven.”
“Yes; but she’s a poor young woman, and can’t pay her passage, so it’s no use.”
“On the contrary,” replied I, “the captain here will become security, that 100 pounds shall be paid down as soon as she arrives in any part of France or Holland.”
“Will he? But who’s the captain?”
“I haven’t a ship just now, but I expect one soon,” replied Bob; “the money shall be paid at once, if you will only receive the young woman until she can be sent off.”
“Well let me see—there’s James Martin; no he won’t do. There’s Will Simpson; yes, that’s the man. Well, it’s a good act; and, captain, when will you bring the money?”
Now the ship was to be paid off on Wednesday and as we had each three years’ pay due, there was no difficulty about that; so I replied, “On Wednesday, the captain will give the money to this lady, or whoever comes with us to receive the young woman; will you not, Captain Cross?”
“Oh! certainly; the money is ready at an hour’s notice,” replied Bob. “I’m sure that she’ll pay me back, if she can; and if she can’t, it’s of no consequence.”
“Well, well, it’s a bargain,” replied the old man. “I’m a poor blind beetle, a sinful old soul; I’ve nothing to do but to make my peace with Heaven. It’s charity—‘Charity covereth a multitude of sins,’ saith St. Paul. Recollect 100 pounds—that’s the bargain. I’ll send Mrs James to you; you must not call again till she’s on the other side of the water.”
“Many thanks, sir,” replied Bob. “I won’t call till I hear she is safe, and then I’ll bring you some tobacco to smoke, such as you don’t often pick up nowadays.”
“Happy to see you, Captain Cross, and your friend there,” replied the old man.
We then took our leave. Mrs James, after we were gone, praised the appearance of Captain Cross, as such a nice-looking man, and old Waghorn evidently thought well of him by the answer he made. Mary, however, pretended to prefer me.
As soon as I returned on board, I told young Vangilt what I had been about. He wrung my hand, and the tears started in his eyes. “You, as an officer, are indeed risking much for me. As to the money, you know me, I trust, too well, not to be sure of receiving it as soon as I can send it; but I never can repay your kindness.”
“Perhaps you may be able to help me one of these days,” I replied. “Who knows? It’s fortune of war, my good fellow; but it’s as well not to be seen too much together.” So saying, I left him.
The next day, Mrs James came off with the necessary garments and bonnet for his escape, and they were given me by Bob Cross. The day after was pay-day; and the ship was in such a state of confusion, and there were so many people on board, that there was no difficulty whatever. Vangilt changed his clothes in the midshipmen’s berth, which was empty, and Bob Cross handed him down the side into the boat, where Mrs James waited to receive him. Bob and I had both been paid, and we gave her the 100 pounds for old Waghorn. The boat shoved off; Vangilt arrived safe at Waghorn’s house, where he was kept concealed for eight days, when, for the sum of 20 pounds, he was safely landed on the French coast, old Waghorn having pocketed 80 pounds by the transaction which, considering he acted out of pure charity, was a pretty good reward.
Having thus successfully managed, by being guilty of high treason, in aiding and abetting the enemy, I bade farewell to Bob Cross, leaving him to follow up his amour, while I went to Chatham to pay my respects to my mother. I had made up my mind how to act. I was no longer a child, but a man in reflection as well as appearance.
I arrived, and hastened to the house from which I had escaped so mysteriously the last time I was in it. My mother threw herself in my arms, embracing me, and then looking at me with surprise and pleasure. Three years and a half had changed me; she hardly knew me, for her association of ideas had still pictured me as the smart stripling whom she had, with so much anguish, consigned into the hands of Bob Cross. She was proud of me—my adventures, my dangers, my conduct, and my honourable mention in the Gazette, were all known to her, and she had been evidently congratulated by many upon my successful career. My grandmother, who had grown much older in appearance, seemed to be softened towards me, and I had sense enough to receive her advances with great apparent cordiality. My aunt and the captain were delighted to see me, and I found that my two cousins, of whose appearance I had been duly apprised, were very pretty children. I found that my mother had two assistants in her business and everything appeared to be on a grander scale, and more flourishing than ever.
The first two or three days were devoted to narratives, communications, explanations, and admirations, as is usually the case after so long an absence; after which we quietly settled down in the relative positions of mother and son, and she assumed, or rather would have assumed, her control over me; but this was not my wish; I had made up my mind that, although a clever woman, I must in future control her, and I took the first opportunity of a longtête-à-têteto let her know that such was my intention.
Speaking of Captain Delmar, I at once told her that I knew he was my father, and that I had his own handwriting to prove it. She denied it at first; but I told her that all denial was useless, that I had possession of the letter he had written to her upon my supposed death, and that it was no ghost, but I, who had frightened my grandmother.
This was my first blow, and a heavy one, to my poor mother; for what woman can bear to be humiliated by her offspring being acquainted with her indiscretion? I loved my mother, and would fain have spared her this pang, had it not been that all my future plans were based upon this one point, and it was necessary she should aid and abet me in them.
My poor mother was bowed to the earth when she found that it was in vain to deny my parentage; she covered her face with her hands in deep shame before her child, but I consoled, and caressed, and told her (what I really felt), that I was indebted to her for not being the son of a private marine; that, at all events, I had noble blood in my veins, and would prove myself worthy of my descent, whether it were acknowledged or not; but from that hour I took the command over her—from that hour it was I that dictated, and her authority as a parent was gone for ever. Let it not be imagined that I treated her harshly; on the contrary, I was more kind, and, before other people, more dutiful than ever I was before. She was my only confidant, and to her only did I explain the reasons of my actions: she was my adviser, but her advice was not that of a parent, but that of an humble, devoted, and attached friend; and during the remainder of her days this position was never altered.
As soon as my mother had acknowledged the fact there was no longer any reservation on my part. I told her what was the conduct of Captain Delmar towards me. I pointed out his checking any display of paternal feelings towards me, and also the certainty that I had that he was partial to and proud of me. I explained to her the line of conduct which I had pursued, and was determined still to pursue, towards him.
“Percival,” said my mother, “I see the judiciousness of what you say and of your behaviour towards him; but allow me to ask you: What is the object you are aiming at—I mean particularly aiming at? Of course you hope to obtain advancement from his interest, and perhaps, if he becomes more attached to you, he may not forget you when he dies; but it appears to me that you have something nearer to your heart than all this—tell me, am I right?”
“You are, my dear mother; my great end is, that Captain Delmar should acknowledge me as his son.”
“I fear that he will never do that, Percival; nor, indeed, do I think you would gain by it. When you are more advanced in the world, your parentage may be considered as obscure, but still, being born in wedlock, it will be more respectable than the acknowledgment you would seek from Captain Delmar. You are not aware of the affronts you may meet with by obtaining what you evidently wish; and once known as the son of Captain Delmar, you may wish that it was never promulgated.”
“I was born in wedlock, mother, as you say, and as many others are, who now are peers of the realm, and in virtue of their being born in wedlock, succeed to property to which they would otherwise not be entitled. Your shame (excuse me for using the word) and my disgrace are equally covered by that wedlock, which is an answer to any accusations of illegitimacy. As to affronts, I do not fear them, or ever shall, from those who know me. I can defend and protect myself; but it is a great difference to me to let the world suppose that I am the son of Ben the marine, when I know myself to be the son of the future Lord de Versely. I wish to be acknowledged by Captain Delmar in such a way as to convince the world that such is the fact, without the world being able to throw it up in my face. That is easily done if Captain Delmar chooses to do it; and if done as it ought to be done, will lead to my benefit. At all events, it will satisfy my pride; for I feel that I am not the son of your husband, but have blood boiling in my veins which would satisfy the proudest aristocrat. I prefer the half relation to that class, such as it is, with all its penalties to being supposed to be the son of the man whom, from prudential motives alone, you took to be your husband.”
“Well, Percival, I cannot blame you; and do not you, therefore, blame your mother too much, when you consider that the same feeling was the cause of her becoming your mother.”
“Far from it my dear mother,” replied I; “only let us now act in concert. I require your assistance. Allow me to ask you one question—Have you not realised a sufficient sum of money to enable you to retire from our business?”
“I certainly have, my dear Percival, much more than is necessary for me to live in comfort, and I may say, some little luxury; but I have thought of you, and for your sake, every year, have continued to add to my profits.”
“Then, my dear mother, for my sake give up your business as soon as possible; money is not my object.”
“Tell me what your reasons are for this demand.”
“My dear mother, I will be candid with you. I wish you to retire from business, and leave this place for any distant part of England; I wish you to change your name, and, in one word, I wish Captain Delmar should believe that you are dead.”
“An why so, Percival? I cannot see how that will benefit you; it was on my account that he took charge of you. You are not sure that he may not be severed from you, and who knows but that my supposed death may occasion him to desert you altogether?”
“You assist my cause, my dear mother, by what you say, if it is on your account that Captain Delmar is my friend; and if as you say, he might desert me when you are dead, or supposed to be so, it is evident that his motive of action must be fear. You have the secret of my birth, which he supposes to be known only to you and to him. I am convinced that if you were supposed dead, and that the secret was his own, if he thought that there was no proof whatever against him, he would then not care showing towards me that regard which he is inclined to feel as a father, and which is now checked by his pride. Captain Delmar is naturally of a kind and affectionate disposition—that I am sure of. Your memory would do more for me than your existence ever can, and as for the rest, leave that to me. At all events, if he should, as I do not believe he will, be inclined to throw me off, I have still his written acknowledgment that I am his son, to make use of in case of necessity. Now, my dear mother, you must consent to do as I wish. Give up your business as soon as possible, and retire to another part of the country. When I consider it a proper time to do so, your death shall be made known to him. I have no doubt that he will be afloat again in a few months, and when we are out of England I will bide the proper time.”
“But your grandmother, Percival—must I tell her?”
“No; tell her only that you intend to retire from business and go away from Chatham; say that you will in future reside in Devonshire, and ask her to accompany you. Depend upon it she will be pleased with your intentions. As to what we arrange relative to Captain Delmar, say nothing to her—she hates his very name, and is not likely to talk about him.”
“Well, Percival you will allow me till to-morrow to think about it before I give a decided answer.”
“Certainly, my dear mother; I wish you so to do, as I am convinced that you will agree with me; and I infinitely prefer that you should decide on conviction, than be induced by maternal regard.”
As I was well assured, my mother’s decision was favourable to my wishes. She consulted with my grandmother, who approved of her intentions, and then it was made public that Mrs Keene intended to retire from business, and that the good-will was to be disposed of along with the stock. My aunt Milly and Captain Bridgeman appeared well content that my mother should take the step which she proposed. In short, all the family approved of the measure, which is not a very usual circumstance in this world. I now employed myself in assisting my mother in her affairs. In a month we found a purchaser of the stock and good-will, and when the sum paid was added to my mother’s former accumulations, she found herself possessed of 12,000 pounds in the Three per Cents, the interest of which, 360 pounds, was more than sufficient for her living comfortably in Devonshire, especially as my grandmother had still remaining an income very nearly amounting to 200 pounds per annum.
In another month everything was arranged, and my mother bade farewell to her sister and all her friends, and left Chatham, after having resided there more than seventeen years.
Long before my mother had removed from Chatham I received a letter from young Vangilt, announcing his safe arrival in Amsterdam, and enclosing an order to receive the money advanced, from a house in London. His letter was very grateful, but, as I had cautioned him, not one word was in it which could implicate me, had it fallen into other hands.
I may as well here observe, that in the hurry of paying off the ship, Vangilt was never missed, and although it did occur to the commanding officer after he had gone on shore that Mr Vangilt had not been sent to prison, he thought it just as well not to raise a question which might get himself into a scrape; in short, nothing was thought or said about it by anybody.
A few days before my mother quitted Chatham I went up to London to receive the money, and then went to Portsmouth to repay the portion belonging to Bob Cross. I found that Bob had made good use of his time, and that the old smuggler now received him as a suitor to his niece.
As however, Mary was still very young—not yet seventeen—and Bob had acknowledged that he had not laid by much money as yet, the old man had insisted that Bob Cross should get another ship, and try a voyage or two more before he was spliced; and to this arrangement both the mother and Mary persuaded him to consent. I went to call upon them with Bob, and did all I could, without stating what was not true, to give the old man a favourable opinion of Cross. I even went so far as to say that if he could not procure another vessel, I was ready to put down a sum of money to assist him; and so I was; and had it been requisite, I have no doubt but that my mother would have advanced it; but Bob, a fine seaman, not yet thirty years old, was always sure of a ship—that is, a man-of-war. To save himself from impressment, Cross had dressed himself in long toggery as a captain of a merchant vessel, and was believed to be such.
Having satisfied myself that everything went on favourably in that quarter, I again returned to Chatham, that I might escort my mother and grandmother into Devonshire. We bade farewell to my aunt and Captain Bridgeman, and set off for London, where we remained a few days at an hotel, and then took the day coach down to Ilfracombe, where my mother had decided upon taking up her future residence, changing her name to Ogilvie, which had been my grandmother’s maiden name.
Ilfracombe was then a beautiful retired spot, and well suited to my mother from its cheapness: with their joint incomes, my grandmother and she could command anything they wished. We soon hired a very pretty little cottageornée, ready furnished, as my mother would not furnish a house until she had ascertained whether there were no drawbacks to the locality. I ought to observe, that my grandmother now appeared quite as partial to me as she had before been otherwise. I treated her with great respect.
Although it was not difficult to obtain a renewal of leave from a guard-ship, after I had remained six weeks with my mother, it was necessary that I should make my appearance at Portsmouth. It was arranged that I should take my departure for Portsmouth in three days, when, on reading the Plymouth newspaper, I learnt that the newly-launched frigate Manilla, of 44 guns, was put in commission, and that the Honourable Captain Delmar had come down and hoisted his pennant. This, of course, changed my plans. I resolved to set off for Plymouth, and wait upon Captain Delmar. I wrote to Bob Cross, enclosing an order for my chest and bedding on board of the guard-ship at Portsmouth, acquainting him with my intention, but requesting him not to act until he heard from me again.
I had a long conversation with my mother, from whom I obtained a renewal of her promise to abide and act by my instructions. I took a respectful farewell of my grandmother, who gave me 100 pounds, which I did not want, as my mother had given me a similar sum, and then set off for Plymouth.
The reader may perhaps inquire how it was that Captain Delmar—as he had promised to pay my expenses—had not made any offer of the kind, or communicated with me on the subject? But the fact was, that he knew I had three years’ pay due, besides the prize-money for the Dutch frigate, which, however, I had not yet received, although it was payable. In pecuniary matters I was certainly well off, as my mother desired that I would draw for any money that I required, feeling convinced that, being aware of her circumstances, I should not distress her by any extravagancies in that she did me justice.
I was now eighteen years old, and just starting again on my career. As I grew up, my likeness to Captain Delmar became more remarkable every day. My mother could not help observing it even to me. “I almost wish that it was not so, my dear mother. I fear it will be the cause of annoyance to Captain Delmar; but it cannot be helped. At all events, it must satisfy him, allowing that he has any doubt (which I am sure he has not), that I am his own child.”
“That I believe to be quite unnecessary,” replied my mother with a deep sigh.
“I should think so too, my dear mother,” replied I, caressing her kindly. “At all events, I will prove, whether I ever obtain it or not, that I am not unworthy of the name of Delmar: but I must wait no longer—the coach is about to start. Adieu, and may God bless you.”
On my arrival at Plymouth—or Plymouth Dock, as Devonport was then called—I inquired at which hotel Captain Delmar had taken up his quarters. It was the one to which I had intended to have gone myself; but I immediately had my luggage taken to another, for I really believe that Delmar would have considered it a great liberty for any one of his officers to presume, to lie down in the same caravanserai as himself. The next morning I sent up my name and was admitted.
“Good morning, Mr Keene,” said the captain. “I presume that you have come down to request to join my ship, and I therefore consent before you make the request. I trust you will always show the same zeal and deference to your officers that you did in the Calliope. You have grown very much, and are now a young man. I shall give you the rating of mate, and I trust you will not do discredit to my patronage.”
“I trust not, Captain Delmar,” replied I. “I have but one wish in the world, which is to please you, who have so befriended me from my boyhood. I should be very ungrateful if I did not do my duty with zeal and fidelity; I am indebted to you for everything, and I am aware I must look to you for every future prospect. I have to thank you, sir, for your great kindness in publishing my name in the public Gazette.”
“You deserved it, Mr Keene, and it certainly will be of great advantage to you when you have served your time. Has your time gone on since the Calliope was paid off?”
“Yes, sir; I am still on the books of the Salvadore?”
“How much time have you served?”
“Nearly four years and a half, sir.”
“Well, the rest will soon be over; and if you do your duty, my patronage shall not be wanting.”
Here there was a bow on my part, and a pause, and I was backing out with another bow, when the captain said, “How is your mother, Mr Keene?”
“She has been advised to retire from business, and to settle in the country,” replied I, mournfully; “her health is such, that—” Here I stopped, as I preferred deceiving him by implication, or rather allowing him to deceive himself.
“I am sorry to hear that,” replied he; “but she never was strong as a young woman.” Here the captain stopped, as if he had said too much.
“No, sir,” replied I; “when in the service of Mrs Delmar she could not be put to anything that required fatigue.”
“Very true,” replied the captain. “You may go on board, Mr Keene, and desire my clerk to make out a letter, requesting your discharge from the Salvadore into the Manilla. Do you require anything?”
“No, sir, I thank you. I need not trespass on your generosity just now. Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, Mr Keene.”
“I beg your pardon Captain Delmar,” said I, as I held the door ajar; “but should you like Robert Cross, your former coxswain, should join you in the same capacity? I know where he is.”
“Yes, Mr Keene, I should like to have him: he was a steady, good man. You will oblige me by writing to him, and requesting him to join immediately. Where is he?”
“At Portsmouth, Captain Delmar.”
“Very well; tell him to come round as fast as he can. By the bye, you will have two of your old messmates—Mr Smith, the master, and Mr Dott. I hope the latter is a little more steady than he was. I was in hopes to have had your old acquaintance, Mr Culpepper, with us; but he died about six weeks back—a fit, or something of that kind.”
“Thank heaven for that,” thought I. Again I made my most respectful bow, and quitted the room.
I returned to my own hotel, and sitting down, I began to reflect upon the interview. I recalled all that had passed, and I made up my mind that I was right in preparing him for the report of my mother’s death: his reception of me was all that I could have expected from him—it was cordial; but my blood boiled when I called to mind that he had only made a casual inquiry after my mother, as I was leaving the room; and then his checking himself because he had inadvertently said that she was not strong when she was a young woman. “Yes,” thought I; “he cannot bear the remembrance of the connection; and it is only for myself, and not from any natural affection of a parent, that he cares for me; or if he does care for me as his son, it is because I have his blood in my veins; and he despises and looks down upon the mother. I am sure that he will be anything but sorry to hear that my mother is dead, and he shall be gratified. I will now write to her.”
I could not help observing that there was some change in the appearance of Captain Delmar. Strange to say, he looked more youthful; and as I compared our two faces in the mirror on the mantel-piece behind him, when I stood up, he appeared more like me in appearance than ever. What was it? “Oh!” thought I, “I have it. His hair is no longer mixed with grey: he must wear a wig.” This was the fact, as I afterwards ascertained; the colour of his wig was, however, much darker than my own hair.
By the same post I wrote to Bob Cross, acquainting him with what had passed, and begging him to come round by the first water conveyance, and bring my chest and bedding with him. I then walked down to the dockyard to have a look at the Manilla, which was, as I had heard, a splendid vessel; went up again to order a mate’s uniform, and returned to the hotel. It was useless going to the ship at that time, as the marines and boys had only been drafted into her that morning; and there was nothing to do until she was clear of the shipwrights, who were still on board of her, and employed in every part of her. The first lieutenant had not yet come down. The master was the only officer who had joined, and he had hoisted the pennant. I was delighted to find that he was to sail with us; and we passed that evening together.
During the evening the master said, “I hear there are plenty of good men stowed away by the crimps at different places. I wish we could only find out where they are, and get hold of them. I fear, if we do not, we shall either be badly manned in haste from the Tower tender, or have to wait a long while before we sail. Now, Keene, don’t you think you could manage so as to get us some men?”
“I’ve got one already,” replied I: “Bob Cross, the captain’s coxswain.”
“And a real good one too,” replied the master; “the best helmsman we had in the Calliope. You and he were very thick together.”
“Yes,” replied I: “when I came on board, a mere lad, he was very kind to me, and I am very partial to him in consequence.”
That night after the master and I had parted, I thought over the question he had put to me, as to obtaining good seamen for the ship, and I made up my mind that I would wait till Cross arrived, and consult with him as to a project which I had in my head. In the mean time I went to a slop-shop by the dockyard wall, and provided myself with a common sailor’s toggery, of the real cut, with a banyan covered hat, and all complete. Three days afterwards Cross joined me, having found a passage round in a cutter; and as soon as I had talked over his affairs, I proposed my plan to him, in which he heartily coincided.
That I did this to please the captain is certain: I had no other view. It was necessary, however, that I obtained the captain’s permission, and I went to him and explained my ideas. The captain was too willing to let me try it, and thanked me for my zeal.
“Go on board, Mr Keene, and tell them I have given you six weeks’ leave of absence, and then you can do as you propose.”
I did so, for it was absolutely necessary that as few as possible should be acquainted with what I was about, as I ran a great risk. I have no hesitation in saying that I should have been made away with by the crimps, had they discovered me.
I dressed myself as a common seaman, darkened my face, and dirtied myself a little, especially on the hands, and Bob Cross and I then went at night into one of the low public houses, with which the town is filled; there we pretended to be much alarmed lest we should be pressed, and asked for a back-room to smoke and drink in. We called in the landlord, telling him we were second mates of vessels, and not secure from the impress; that we never were at Plymouth before, our ships having put in damaged, and that the crew were discharged; and asked if there was no safe place where we could be stowed until we could find another vessel ready to start.
He replied, that there was a house at Stonehouse where we could be quite safe; but that, of course, we must pay the crimps well for our board and lodging and that they would find us a ship when we wished to go; and further, that we must give him something handsome for taking us there. To this we agreed, and at midnight we set off in company with our landlord, each of us carrying our bundles, and in less than an hour arrived at a sort of farm-house detached from the road.
After a short parley we obtained entrance, and were taken into a small room where the crimp inquired of us what money we had, and then told us what his charges were. The reason of his doing this was, because if we had no money, or very little, he would have disposed of us very soon by sending us on board of some ship, and obtaining an advance of our wages from the captain as his indemnification; but if we had plenty of money, he would then keep us as long as he could that he might make his profit of us; his charges were monstrous, as may be supposed, and we had replied that we had very little money. We contrived to look as careless and indifferent as we could, agreed to everything, paid the landlord of the pothouse a guinea each for taking us to the house, and were then ushered into a large room, where we found about twenty seamen sitting at a long table, drinking, and playing cards and dominoes.
They did not appear to notice us, they were so busy either playing or looking on. Cross called for a pot of ale, and we sat down at the farther end of the table.
“What a dislike the men must have to the press,” said Cross to me, “when they submit to be mured up here in prison.”
“Yes, and cheated by such a scoundrel as the crimp appears to be.”
“Don’t talk so loud, Jack,” replied Cross; for I had insisted upon his calling me Jack, “lest we should be overheard.”
We then asked to go to bed, and were shown by the crimp into a room which had about fourteen beds in it.
“You may take your choice of those five,” said he, pointing to five nearest the door: “I always come up and take away the candle.”
As we found some of the other beds occupied, we did not resume our conversation, but went to sleep.
The next morning we found that we mustered about thirty-five, many of the more steady men having gone to bed before we arrived. After breakfast, Cross and I each entered into conversation with a man, and pumped them very cleverly. Our chief object was, to ascertain the houses of the other crimps, and, as the men knew most of them, having invariably resorted to them at the end of their voyages, we obtained the locality of five or six, all apparently public-houses, but having back premises for the concealment of seamen: all these were carefully noted down.
As we became more intimate, the seamen, who were glad to talk, from weariness of confinement, asked us many questions. We said that we had deserted from a man-of-war, and then a hundred questions were asked us as to our treatment. I allowed Bob Cross to be spokesman, and his replies were very sensible. He told them that all depended upon what sort of captains and first lieutenants were on board; that he had been pressed twice: the first time he was comfortable enough, and made 200 pounds prize-money in eight months; but in the last man-of-war he was very uncomfortable, and had therefore cut and run. Altogether, he made the service appear much more favourable than they supposed, although the crimp, who had stood by, did all he could to persuade the men to the contrary.
We remained in this house for more than a week, and then declared that we had no more money, and must find a ship. The crimp said that he had a berth for one of us as second mate of a brig, and I agreed to take it, leaving Bob Cross to get a berth for himself as soon as he could. As I raid up, there was no demand upon the owners of the vessel, and it was arranged that I should be down at a certain wharf at three o’clock in the morning, when I should find a boat waiting for me. I waited up with Bob Cross until the clock had struck two, and then the crimp let me out. He did not offer to go down with me, as he had no money to receive; and, as it was pitch-dark, there was little chance of my being picked up by a press-gang at that hour. I wished Cross good-bye, and set off for Plymouth Dock with my bundle on my stick.
Not knowing where to go at such an hour, I walked about to see if I could perceive a light in any house: I did so at last through the chinks of the shutters of a small ale-house, and tapped at the door; it was opened, I was ushered in, and the door closed immediately upon me. I found myself in the presence of several marines with their side-arms, and seamen with cutlasses. An officer started up from his seat, and collaring me said, “You’re just the fellow we want. We’re in luck to-night.” In fact, I was in the hands of a press-gang, and I was pressed myself.
“Yes, he’ll do: he’ll make a capital maintop-man,” said a midshipman, getting up and surveying me.
I looked at him, and perceived my old acquaintance Mr Tommy Dott, grown a great deal taller; I perceived that he did not recognise me. “But, sir,” said I to the officer of the party, who was so disguised that I could not tell his rank, “suppose I belong to a man-of-war already?”
“That you do not; or if you do, you must be a deserter, my good fellow; that is evident by your stick and bundle. Now sit down and drink some beer, if you like; you are going to serve in a fine frigate—you may as well make yourself comfortable, for we shall not go on board yet, for this hour.”
I determined to keep up myincognito, as it amused me. I sat down, and it then occurred to me that my not going on board of the vessel might lead to an explanation with the crimp, and that an alarm might be created and the men dispersed in consequence. There were still two hours to daylight, and if I could take up the press-gang, we might secure all the men in the house before the dawn of day.
As I had just made up my mind to act, there was a stamping of feet outside and a knock at the door. When it was opened, another portion of the press-gang, headed by another officer, entered. I counted heads, and found that they mustered thirty hands—quite sufficient, as they were armed, to secure all my late companions. I therefore went up to the officer, and begged to speak with him aside.
I then told him that I had just come from a crimp’s house near Stonehouse, where I left in their beds thirty-five as fine men as ever walked a plank, and that, as I was pressed myself, I did not mind telling him where they were, and he could take them all.
The officer curled up his lip, as if to say, “You’re a pretty scoundrel to betray your companions,” but immediately resolved to act upon it. Without stating his intentions, he ordered all the men out, and putting me between two marines, so as to prevent my escaping, I was desired to lead on. I did so, and we proceeded in silence until we arrived near to the house. I then pointed out to the officer that it must be surrounded, or the men would escape, and that it must be done very carefully, as there was a large dog which would be sure to give the alarm. My advice was attended to, and when all the men were at their stations, the whole advanced slowly towards the house. The dog commenced baying, as I had foreseen, and shortly afterwards the crimp put his head out of a window, and perceived that the press-gang were below. But all attempts to force an entrance were in vain, every window below, and the doors, being secured with iron bars.
“Is there no way of getting into this den?” said the officer to me.
“Why sir, I’ll try.”
As Bob Cross had given another name, I knew that I risked nothing in calling out his, and I therefore requested the officer to impose silence, and when it was obtained, I cried out, “Bob Cross! Bob Cross!! Where’s Bob Cross?”
After that, I went to the small door at the side of the house, which led to the homestead, and again cried out, “Bob Cross!—where’s Bob Cross?”
I then told the officer that we must wait patiently, and that if it was daylight before we got in, all the better.
About ten minutes after that, as I remained at the small door, I heard the bars quietly removed; I then requested the officer to attempt to force the small door, and it yielded almost immediately to their efforts.
“Now, sir, leave a guard at the other door, that they may not open it, and escape by it, also five or six hands to catch any who may jump out of the upper windows, and then enter with the rest of your party.”
“You know what you are about, at all events,” said he, giving the directions which I had pointed out, and then entering with the remainder of his party, with the exception of one marine that held me by the arm, with his bayonet drawn.
The scuffle within was very severe, and lasted for many minutes: at last, the armed force, although not so numerous, prevailed, and one by one, the men were brought out, and taken charge of by the marines, until the whole of them were discovered in their retreats, and secured.
Day now dawned, and it was time to be off. To make more secure, the pressed men were lashed two and two, with small rope, which had been provided on purpose. Bob Cross, who, of course, had not mixed in the affray, gave me a nod of recognition, and we set off as fast as the men could be persuaded to move; certainly not a very gay procession, for although the wounds were not dangerous, there was scarcely one of the party, amounting in all to upwards of sixty men, who was not bleeding. Hardly a word was exchanged. We were all put into the boats, and rowed off to the hulk appropriated to the crew of the frigate, until she was rigged, and as soon as we were on board, we were put below under the charge of sentries.
“What! you here?” said some of the pressed men.
“Yes,” replied I: “they picked me up as I went to ship myself last night.” The crimp, who had been brought on board with the others, then started forward. “It is he who has blown upon us; I’ll swear to it.”
“You may swear if you please,” replied I; “that will do you no good, and me no harm.”
The crimp talked with the other men, and then indignation was levelled against me. Most of them swore they would be even with me, and have my life if they could; indeed, they could hardly be prevented laying hands upon me; but Bob Cross told the sentry, and he interfered with his bayonet; notwithstanding which, fists continued to be shook in my face, and vengeance threatened every minute.
“I told you, my lads,” said Bob Cross, “that I have been on board of a man-of-war before this, and you’d better mind what you’re about, or you’ll repent it; at all events, if one of you touches him, you’ll have five dozen lashes at the gangway before to-morrow morning.”
This made the poor fellows more quiet; most of them lay down, and tried to sleep off their misery.
“Why don’t you make yourself known, Mr Keene?” said Cross to me, in a whisper: “I saw the master go on the quarterdeck just now.”
“I think I had better not: there are more houses to examine, and if my trick was known, it would soon get wind from the women, and I should be waylaid, and perhaps murdered by the crimps. The captain will be on board by ten o’clock, I have no doubt, and then I will contrive to see him, somehow or another.”
“But you could trust the master—why not see him?”
“I’ll think of it—but there’s no hurry.”
I was afraid that Tommy Dott would have discovered me, and I kept out of his way as much as I could.
“I’ll tell you what, sir—as I’ve not joined the ship, why not let it be supposed that I am impressed with the other men, and then I can send for Mr Dott and make myself known? The commanding officer will, of course, send for me, and I will enter, and then I shall be allowed to go about, and can speak to the captain when he comes on board.”
“Well, that is not a bad idea. Talk to the sentry.”
“Who’s the captain of this ship, sentry?” said Bob Cross.
“Captain Delmar.”
“Delmar!—why, he’s my old captain. Did not I see a Mr Dott, a midshipman?”
“Yes there is a Mr Dott on board.”
“Well, I wish you would just pass the word to Mr Dott, to say that one of the pressed men wishes to speak to him.”
The sentry did so, and Mr Dott came down.
“How d’ye do, Mr Dott?” said Bob Cross, while I turned away.
“What Cross, is that you? Are you dressed?”
“Yes, sir, can’t be helped. I’m glad I’m to sail with you, sir. What’s become of Mr Keene?”
“Oh, I don’t know; but if he’s not hanged by this time, I believe that he’s to join the ship.”
“Won’t I pull your ears for that?” thought I.
“What other officers have we of the Calliope, sir?”
“There’s the master, Mr Smith, and the surgeon.”
“Well, Mr Dott, one must always make a virtue of necessity. Tell Mr Smith that I shall enter for the ship; and I’ll put my name down at once, instead of being penned up here.”
“That’s right, Cross; and I say, you chaps, you’d better follow a good example. Sentry, let this man go with me.”
Bob Cross then went with Tommy Dott, and entered for the service. The master was very glad to see him again and said, “Why, Cross, Mr Keene said that you had promised him to join us.”
“Why, sir, so I had; but it’s a long story. However, it’s all the same in the end: here I am, and I hope I shall get my old rating.”
Soon after, Bob Cross came down and said, “Well, my lads, I’m free now, and I advise you all to do the same. Come, Jack,” said he to me, “what d’ye say?”
“No, no,” replied I. “I won’t unless all the rest do.”
Bob then took me on one side, and told me what had taken place, and asked me what he should say to the captain. I told him, and then he left us.
At ten o’clock the captain came on board. Bob Cross went up to him and said he wished to say something to him in the cabin. He followed the captain down, and then explained to him that I was among the pressed men but as a means of obtaining plenty more men, I had remained among them, and had not made myself known, for fear my trick should get wind; also that I thought the crimp should be kept on board, although he was of no use as a seaman.
“Mr Keene has behaved very prudently,” replied Captain Delmar. “I understand his motives—leave the rest to me.”
A few minutes after Bob had communicated to me what the captain had said, the pressed men were ordered up, and ranged along the quarter-deck. A finer set of men I never saw together: and they all appeared to be, as they afterwards proved to be prime seamen. The captain called them one by one and questioned them. He asked them to enter, but they refused. The crimp begged hard to be released. Their names were all put down on the ship’s book together.
The captain, turning to me—for I had stood up the last of the row—said, “I understand the officer of the impress agreed to release you if you would tell him where your comrades were. I don’t like losing a good man, but still I shall let you go in consequence of the promise being made. There, you may take a boat and go on shore.”
“Thank your honour,” replied I. I went to the gangway immediately; but I never shall forget the faces of the pressed men when I passed them: they looked as if I had a thousand lives, and they had stomach enough to take them all.
I went on shore immediately, and going to my hotel, washed the colour and dirt off my face, dressed myself in my mate’s uniform, and went to the hotel where the captain lived. I found that he had just come on shore, and I sent up my name, and I was admitted. I then told the captain the information which we had received with regard to nine or ten more houses, and that I thought I might now go on board, and never be recognised.
“You have managed extremely well,” replied Captain Delmar; “we have made a glorious haul: but I think it will be better that you do not go on board; the press-gang shall meet you every night, and obey your orders.” I bowed, and walked out of the room.
The next night, and several subsequent ones, the press-gang came on shore, and, from the information I had received, we procured in the course of a fortnight more than two hundred good seamen. Some of the defences were most desperate: fort as one crimp’s house after another was forced, they could not imagine how they could have been discovered; but it put them all on their guard; and on the last three occasions the merchant seamen were armed and gave us obstinate fights; however, although the wounds were occasionally severe, there was no loss of life.
Having expended all my knowledge, I had nothing more to do than go on board, which I did, and was kindly received by the master and the other officers, who had been prepossessed in my favour. Such was the successful result of my plan. The crimp we did not allow to go on shore, but discharged him into a gun-brig, the captain of which was a notorious martinet; and I have no doubt, being aware of his character and occupation, that he kept his word, when he told Captain Delmar that he would make the ship a hell to him—“and sarve him right too,” said Bob Cross, when he heard of it; “the money that these rascals obtain from the seamen, Mr Keene, is quite terrible; and the poor fellows, after having earned it by two or three years’ hard work, go to prison in a crimp-house to spend it, or rather to be swindled out of it. It is these fellows that raise such reports against the English navy, that frighten the poor fellows so; they hear of men being flogged until they die under the lash, and all the lies that can be invented. Not that the masters of the merchant vessels are at all backward in disparaging the service, but threaten to send a man on board a man-of-war for a punishment, if he behaves ill—that itself is enough to raise a prejudice against the service. Now, sir, I can safely swear that there is more cruelty and oppression—more ill-treatment and more hard work—on board of a merchantman, than on board any man-of-war. Why so? Because there is no control over the master of a merchant vessel, while the captain of a man-of-war is bound down by strict regulations, which he dare not disobey. We see many reports in the newspapers of the ill-treatment on of merchant vessels; but for one that is made known, ninety-nine are passed over; for a seaman has something else to do than to be kicking his heels at a magistrate’s office; and when he gets clear of his vessel, with his pay in his pocket, he prefers to make merry and forget his treatment, to seeking revenge. I say again, sarve that crimp right, and I hope that he’ll get a lash for every pound which he has robbed from the poor seamen.”
I may as well inform the reader that, as it is mostly the case after the men have been impressed, nearly the whole of them entered the service; and when, some time afterwards, they ascertained that it was I that had tricked them, so far from feeling the ill-will towards me that they had on their first coming on board, they laughed very much at my successful plan, and were more partial to me than to any other of the officers.
Our frigate was now well manned, and nearly ready for sea. I wrote to my mother, enclosing the heads of a letter to her which she should send to Captain Delmar, and in a day or two I received an answer, with a copy of what she had sent. It was to the effect that I was now going away for the second time, and that it was possible she might never see me or Captain Delmar again; that she wished him success and happiness, and begged him, in case she should be called away, not to forget his promises to her, or what she had undergone for his sake; but she trusted entirely to him, and that he would watch over me and my interests, even more out of regard to her memory, than if she were alive to support my claims upon him.
The letter was given to Captain Delmar when he was on the quarter-deck, and he went with it down below. He came on deck shortly afterwards. I looked at him but did not perceive that he was in any way put out or moved by its reception. Claims for past services, whether upon the country or upon individuals, are seldom well received; like the payment of a tavern bill, after we have done with the enjoyments, we seem inclined to cavil at each separate item—ainsi va le monde.
It was reported down at Mutton Cove, that our ship, which sailed with sealed orders was to be sent to the West Indies. This the captain did not expect or wish, as he had had enough of the tropics already. When he, however, opened his orders, it was found that Mutton Cove was correct, and the captain’s instructions were, to seek the admiral of the station with all possible dispatch.
We carried sail day and night, and as the Manilla proved a remarkably fast sailer, we were very soon in Carlisle Bay, Barbadoes, where we found the admiral and six sail of the line, and a few smaller vessels. As soon as the despatches were opened by the admiral, our signal, as well as that of all the smaller vessels, was made, and before the evening we had spread our canvas in every direction, being sent to recall the whole of the disposable force to rendezvous at Carlisle Bay. We knew that something was in the wind, but what, we had no idea of. Our orders were to proceed to Halifax, and we had a quick passage. We found two frigates there, and we gave them their instructions; and then, having remained only twenty-four hours, we all made sail together for Barbadoes.
On our arrival there, we round the bay crowded with vessels: twenty-eight sail of pennants and a fleet of transports, containing ten thousand troops. Three days afterwards the signal was made to weigh, and the whole fleet stood out from Carlisle Bay, it being now well known that the capture of the island of Martinique was the object of the expedition. On the third day we arrived off the island, and our troops were disembarked at two points, expecting to meet with strong opposition. Such, however, to our surprise, was not the case. It appeared that the militia of the island, being composed of slaves, and who were sent to oppose us, did not consider that slavery was worth fighting for quite as well as liberty, and therefore very quietly walked home again, leaving the governor and regular troops to decide the question as to whether the island was for the future to belong to the French or English. But the two following days there was some hard fighting, and our troops, although they advanced, had a severe loss. The French retired from the advanced posts to Fort Dessaix, and we obtained possession of the fort on Point Salamon.
The next point to be attacked was Pigeon Island, and there the navy were called into action; we had to get the carronades and mortars up a hill almost inaccessible; we did it, much to the surprise of the troops, who could hardly believe it when the battery opened fire. After a brisk cannonading of ten hours, Pigeon Island surrendered, and then the admiral stood into, and anchored the fleet in Fort Royal Bay; not, however, in time to prevent the French from setting fire to the frigates which were in the harbour. A few days after, the town of St. Pierre and the town of Fort Royal surrendered, and Fort Dessaix only held out. For more than a week we were very busy constructing batteries and landing cannon and mortars; and when all was ready, the bombardment of Fort Dessaix commenced, and five days afterwards the French capitulated, and the island was formally surrendered to the English.
I have hurried over the capture, as it has oftentimes been described in detail. All I can say is, that it was very hard work for the seamen, and that they had their full share of the fatigue; but, from the peculiar nature of the service, an affair took place which was of much importance to me. I said before that the sailors were employed in the hard duty of getting the guns, etcetera, on shore, and up to where the batteries were to be erected—in short, working like slaves in the heat of the sun, while the troops remained quiet investing the fort. There was no objection raised to this, and the seamen worked very willingly; but the staff and mounted officers of the army, who rode to and fro giving orders, were not quite as civil as they might be—that is, some of them; and a certain feeling of dissension and ill-will was created in consequence.
The junior officers of the navy, and the lieutenants who could be spared to direct the labour of the seamen on shore, received occasionally very harsh language from some of the military officers, and did not fail to give very prompt replies to those who they did not consider had any right to control them. Complaints were made to the captains of the men-of-war, and, on being investigated, the result generally was, that the captains defended their officers, and the military gentlemen obtained no redress. The active service, however, did not admit of any notice being taken of it at the time; but after the island had surrendered, these unfortunate animosities were resumed.
A few days after the capture of the island, the prisoners and troops were embarked an the fleet sailed, a sufficient garrison being left upon the island for its defence. The admiral also thought proper to leave two or three men-of-war in the harbour, and our frigate was one. For the first few days everything went on smoothly. The French inhabitants were soon on good terms with us, and balls and parties had commenced; but the seamen and soldiers, when they met at the liquor-stores, began to quarrel as to which branch of the service had done most towards the taking the island. This will always be the case with people so addicted to intoxication. Several severe wounds were received in the various skirmishes which took place, and at last the seamen were interdicted from going on shore. Indeed, as they were not armed, and the soldiers carried their bayonets, it was too unequal a contest when an affray took place; but the ill-will spread, and at last arrived to the superior officers.
The consequence was, that a challenge was given to one of the captains of the frigates by an adjutant. It was accepted; but not an hour after it was accepted, the captain was taken with a fever, and on the morning of the following day, when the duel was to have taken place, he was not able to quit his bed; and the military gentlemen, on arriving at the ground, found an excuse instead of an antagonist. Whether it was really supposed that the fever was a mere excuse to avoid the duel, or that the animosity prevailing gave rise to the report, certain it is, that there were many sneers on the part of the military men, and great indignation on the tart of the naval officers; who, if they could have so done, would have gone on shore on purpose to insult every officer they could meet who wore a red coat; but in consequence of this excitement being known all leave was prohibited.
Captain Delmar, who was the naval commanding officer, had taken up his quarters on shore; he had done all he possibly could to prevent the unpleasant feeling from continuing, and had shown great forbearance and good sense: but it so happened that, being in company with some of the military staff, observations were made in his presence, relative to the conduct of the naval captain ill with the fever, that he could not permit. He gave a flat denial to them, and the consequence was, that language was used which left no alternative but a duel.
This was the Monday night, and as it was too late then, it was agreed that the meeting should take place on the following evening at sunset. I believe this was proposed by Captain Delmar, in preference to the morning, as he knew his antagonist was a regular duellist and he wished to have the next day to put his affairs in order, previous to the meeting. I should here observe that the captain had not been on anything like intimate terms with his lieutenants. The surgeon and master were old shipmates, and with them he was sociable: whether it was that he did not choose to ask the favour of the commissioned officers, certain it is, that he sent for the master to be his second on the occasion, and on the master returning on board, he desired me to go on shore with the boat and take the captain’s pistols with me, but not to allow them to be seen by any one; a message was also sent for the surgeon to go on shore to the captain.
When the surgeon and I arrived at the house where the captain resided, and were ushered up, the sitting-room was empty. I had put the case of pistols in a piece of canvas, so as to look like despatches about to be sent to England, and I uncovered them and placed them on one of the tables. A few minutes afterwards the captain came out, and I was very much surprised at his appearance; he was very flushed and heated in the face, and appeared to tremble as he walked. The surgeon also looked at him with surprise. We knew him to be incapable of fear, and yet he gave us the appearance of a person very much troubled.
“Doctor,” said he, “I am glad that you are come. I feel very unwell—feel my pulse.”
“Yes, sir,” said the doctor, “that you certainly are; you have the same fever on you as Captain W. Singular.”
“Yes, but it will be rather too singular, doctor. Poor W had obloquy enough on account of his illness; and if a second captain in the navy were to be obliged to send a similar excuse, we should be at a pretty discount with the red-coats. If you can do any thing for me, do; but it must be perfectly understood that fight to-morrow evening I will, even if I am carried to the ground.”
“Certainly, Captain Delmar, if it is possible. I think that a little blood must be taken from you immediately, and probably the fever may subside.”
But before his arm could be bound up, the captain became incoherent in his discourse; and after the bleeding had been performed, when he attempted to look at his papers, he was so confused that he found it impossible, and was obliged to be put to bed immediately. When the surgeon came out of his bed-room, he said to us, “He’ll never get up to fight that duel, depend upon it; the fever increases—it may be that he may never rise again—I fear it is the yellow fever.”
“A bad job,” replied the master—“a very bad job indeed; two captains in the navy receiving challenges, and both sending excuses on account of illness. The service will be disgraced. I’ll fight the soldier myself.”
“That will never do,” replied the surgeon; “it will not help the captain that he has sent one of his officers in his stead. Steward, make a bed up here in this room; I shall not leave the house to-night.”
“It’s of no use my staying here,” observed the master: “nor you either, Keene: let’s go on board, and we will be here early to-morrow morning. Confounded bad job this. Good-bye.”
The master and I returned to the boat. I had been reflecting a good deal on the disgrace which would, at all events for a certain period, be thrown upon the service and Captain Delmar by this unfortunate circumstance, and before I had gone up the ship’s side I had made up my mind. As soon as we were on board, I requested the master to allow me to speak to him in his cabin; and when we were there, after canvassing the question, and pointing out to him what discredit would ensue, and working him up into a great state of irritation, I then proposed to him what I considered to be the best course to pursue. “Every one says how like I am to Captain Delmar, Mr Smith,” said I.
“If you were his own son, you could not be more so,” replied the master.
“Well, sir, I am now as tall as he is: the colour of my hair is lighter, certainly; but the captain wears a wig. Now, sir, I am perfectly sure that if I were to put on the captain’s uniform and wig, as the duel is to take place in the evening, they never could find out that it was not the captain; and as for a good shot, I think I can hit a button as well as the best duellist in existence.”
The master bit his lips, and was silent for a short time. At last he said, “What you propose is certainly very easy; but why should you risk your life for Captain Delmar?”
“Why, did you not offer to do it just now for the honour of the service? I have that feeling, and moreover wish to serve Captain Delmar, who has been my patron. What’s the life of a midshipman worth, even if I were to fall?—nothing.”
“That’s true enough,” replied the master bluntly; and then correcting himself, he added, “that is, midshipmen in general; but I think you may be worth something by-and-by. However, Keene, I do think, on the whole, it’s a very good plan; and if the Captain is not better to-morrow, we will then consider it more seriously. I have an idea that you are more likely to pin the fellow than the captain, who, although as brave a man as can be, he has not, I believe, fired twenty pistols in his life. Good night; and I hardly need say we must keep our secret.”
“Never fear, sir. Good night.”
I went to my hammock, quite overjoyed at the half-consent given by the master to my proposition. It would give me such a claim on Captain Delmar, if I survived; and if I fell, at all events he would cherish my memory; but as for falling, I felt sure that I should not. I had a presentiment (probably no more than the buoyant hope of youth) that I should be the victor. At all events, I went to sleep very soundly, and did not wake until I was roused up by the quartermaster on the following morning.
After breakfast the master requested a boat to be manned, and we went on shore. On our arrival at the house, we found the surgeon in great anxiety: the captain was in a state of delirium, and the fever was at the highest.
“How is he?” demanded the master.
“More likely to go out of the world himself than to send another out of it,” replied the surgeon. “He cannot well be worse, and that is all that I can say. He has been raving all night, and I have been obliged to take nearly two pounds of blood from him; and, Mr Keene,” continued the surgeon, “he talks a great deal of you and other persons. You may go in to him, if you please; for I have as much as possible kept the servants away—they will talk.”
“Bob Cross is down below, sir,” replied I: “he is the safest man to wait upon him.”
“I agree with you, Keene—send for him, and he shall remain at his bedside.”
The master then spoke with the surgeon, and communicated my proposition; and the surgeon replied, “Well, from what I have learned this night, there is no person who has so great a right to take his place; and perhaps it will be as well, both for the captain’s sake and his own; at all events, I will go with you, and, in case of accident, do my best.”