Chapter Thirty Two.

Chapter Thirty Two.I am claimed by Captain Kearney as a relation—Trial of skill between first lieutenant and captain with the long bow—The shark, the pug dog, and the will—A quarter-deck picture.As the admiral was not one who would permit the ships under his command to lie idle in port, in a very few days after the dignity hall which I have described, all the squadron sailed on their various destinations. I was not sorry to leave the bay, for one soon becomes tired of profusion, and I cared nothing for either oranges, bananas, or shaddocks, nor even for the good dinners and claret at the tables of the army mess and gentlemen of the island. The sea breeze soon became more precious to us than anything else; and if we could have bathed without the fear of a shark, we should have equally appreciated that most refreshing of all luxuries under the torrid zone. It was therefore with pleasure that we received the information that we were to sail the next day to cruise off the French island of Martinique. Captain Kearney had been so much on shore that we saw but little of him, and the ship was entirely under the control of the first lieutenant, of whom I have hitherto not spoken. He was a very short, pock-marked man, with red hair and whiskers, a good sailor, and not a bad officer; that is, he was a practical sailor, and could show any foremast man his duty in any department, and this seamen very much appreciate, as it is not very common; but I never yet knew an officer who prided himself upon his practical knowledge, who was at the same time a good navigator; and too often, by assuming the Jack Tar, they lower the respect due to them, and become coarse and vulgar in their manners and language. This was the case with Mr Phillott, who prided himself upon his slang, and who was at one time “hail fellow, well met” with the seamen, talking to them, and being answered as familiarly as if they were equals, and at another, knocking the very same men down with a handspike if he were displeased. He was not bad tempered, but very hasty; and his language to the officers was occasionally very incorrect—to the midshipmen invariably so. However, on the whole, he was not disliked, although he was certainly not respected as a first lieutenant should have been. It is but fair to say that he was the same to his superiors as he was to his inferiors; and the bluntness with which he used to contradict and assert his disbelief of Captain Kearney’s narratives often produced a coolness between them for some days.The day after we sailed from Carlisle Bay I was asked to dine in the cabin. The dinner was served upon plated dishes, which looked very grand, but there was not much in them. “This plate,” observed the captain, “was presented to me by some merchants for my exertions in saving their property from the Danes, when I was cruising off Heligoland.”“Why, that lying steward of yours told me that you bought it at Portsmouth,” replied the first lieutenant: “I asked him in the galley this morning.”“How came you to assert such a confounded falsehood, sir?” said the captain to the man who stood behind his chair.“I only said that I thought so,” replied the steward.“Why, didn’t you say that the bill had been sent in, through you, seven or eight times, and that the captain had paid it with a flowing sheet?”“Did you dare say that, sir?” interrogated the captain, very angrily.“Mr Phillott mistook me, sir,” replied the steward. “He was so busy damning the sweepers, that he did not hear me right. I said, the midshipmen had paid their crockery bill with the fore-topsail.”“Ay, ay,” replied the captain, “that’s much more likely.”“Well, Mr Steward,” replied Mr Phillott, “I’ll be damned if you ar’n’t as big a liar as your—” (master he was going to plump out, but fortunately the first lieutenant checked himself, and added)—“as your father was before you.”The captain changed the conversation by asking me whether I would take a slice of ham. “It’s real Westphalia, Mr Simple; I have them sent me direct by Count Troningsken, an intimate friend of mine, who kills his own wild boars in the Hartz mountains.”“How the devil do you get them over, Captain Kearney?”“There are ways and means of doing everything, Mr Phillott, and the First Consul is not quite so bad as he is represented. The first batch was sent over with a very handsome letter to me, written in his own hand, which I will show you some of these days. I wrote to him in return, and sent to him two Cheshire cheeses by a smuggler, and since that they came regularly. Did you ever eat Westphalia ham, Mr Simple?”“Yes, sir,” replied I: “once I partook of one at Lord Privilege’s.”“Lord Privilege! why he’s a distant relation of mine, a sort of fifth cousin,” replied Captain Kearney.“Indeed, sir,” replied I.“Then you must allow me to introduce you to a relation, Captain Kearney,” said the first lieutenant; “for Mr Simple is his grandson.”“Is it possible? I can only say, Mr Simple, that I shall be most happy to show you every attention, and am very glad that I have you as one of my officers.”Now, although this was all false, for Captain Kearney was not in the remotest manner connected with my family, yet, having once asserted it, he could not retract, and the consequence was, that I was much the gainer by his falsehood, as he treated me very kindly afterwards, always calling me cousin.The first lieutenant smiled, and gave me a wink, when the captain had finished his speech to me, as much as to say, “You’re in luck,” and then the conversation changed. Captain Kearney certainly dealt in the marvellous to admiration, and really told his stories with such earnestness, that I actually believe that he thought he was telling the truth. Never was there such an instance of confirmed habit. Telling a story of a cutting-out expedition, he said, “The French captain would have fallen by my hand, but just as I levelled my musket, a ball came, and cut off the cock of the lock, as clean as if it was done with a knife—a very remarkable instance,” observed he.“Not equal to what occurred in a ship I was in,” replied the first lieutenant, “when the second lieutenant was grazed by a grape shot, which cut off one of his whiskers, and turning round his head to ascertain what was the matter, another grape shot came and took off the other. Now that’s what I call a close shave.”“Yes,” replied Captain Kearney, “very close, indeed, if it were true; but you’ll excuse me, Mr Phillott, but you sometimes tell strange stories. I do not mind it myself, but the example is not good to my young relation here, Mr Simple.”“Captain Kearney,” replied the first lieutenant, laughing very immoderately, “do you know what the pot called the kettle?”“No, sir, I do not,” retorted the captain, with offended dignity. “Mr Simple, will you take a glass of wine?”I thought that this littlebrouilleriewould have checked the captain; it did so, but only for a few minutes, when he again commenced. The first lieutenant observed that it would be necessary to let water into the ship every morning, and pump it out, to avoid the smell of the bilge water.“There are worse smells than bilge water,” replied the captain. “What do you think of a whole ship’s company being nearly poisoned with otto of roses? Yet that occurred to me when in the Mediterranean. I was off Smyrna, cruising for a French ship, that was to sail to France, with a pacha on board, as an ambassador. I knew she would be a good prize, and was looking sharp out, when one morning we discovered her on the lee bow. We made all sail, but she walked away from us, bearing away gradually till we were both before the wind, and at night we lost sight of her. As I knew that she was bound to Marseilles, I made all sail to fall in with her again. The wind was light and variable; but five days afterwards, as I lay in my cot, just before daylight, I smelt a very strong smell, blowing in at the weather port, and coming down the skylight which was open; and after sniffing at it two or three times, I knew it to be otto of roses. I sent for the officer of the watch, and asked him if there were anything in sight. He replied ‘that there was not;’ and I ordered him to sweep the horizon with his glass, and look well out to windward. As the wind freshened, the smell became more powerful. I ordered him to get the royal yards across, and all ready to make sail, for I knew that the Turk must be near us. At daylight, there he was, just three miles ahead in the wind’s eye. But although he beat us going free, he was no match for us on a wind, and before noon we had possession of him and all his harem. By-the-bye, I could tell you a good story about the ladies. She was a very valuable prize, and among other things she had apuncheonof otto of roses on board—”“Whew!” cried the first lieutenant. “What! a whole puncheon?”“Yes,” replied the captain, “a Turkish puncheon—not quite so large, perhaps, as ours on board; their weights and measures are different. I took out most of the valuables into the brig I commanded—about 20,000 sequins—carpets—and among the rest, this cask of otto of roses, which we had smelt three miles off. We had it safe on board, when the mate of the hold, not slinging it properly, it fell into the spirit-room with a run and was stove to pieces. Never was such a scene; my first lieutenant and several men on deck fainted; and the men in the hold were brought up lifeless: it was some time before they were recovered. We let the water into the brig, and pumped it out, but nothing would take away the smell, which was so overpowering, that before I could get to Malta I had forty men on the sick-list. When I arrived there, I turned the mate out of the service for his carelessness. It was not until after having smoked the brig, and finding that of little use, after having sunk her for three weeks, that the smell was at all bearable; but even then it could never be eradicated, and the admiral sent the brig home, and she was sold out of the service. They could do nothing with her at the dock-yards. She was broken up, and bought by the people at Brighton and Tunbridge Wells, who used her timbers for turning fancy articles, which, smelling as they did so strongly of otto of roses, proved very profitable. Were you ever at Brighton, Mr Simple?”“Never, sir.”Just at this moment, the officer of the watch came down to say that there was a very large shark under the counter, and wished to know if the captain had any objection to the officers attempting to catch it.“By no means,” replied Captain Kearney; “I hate sharks as I do the devil. I nearly lost 14,000 pounds by one, when I was in the Mediterranean.”“May I inquire how, Captain Kearney;” said the first lieutenant, with a demure face; “I’m very anxious to know.”“Why the story is simply this,” replied the captain. “I had an old relation at Malta, whom I found out by accident—an old maid of sixty, who had lived all her life on the island. It was by mere accident that I knew of her existence. I was walking upon Strada Reale, when I saw a large baboon that was kept there, who had a little fat pug-dog by the tail, which he was pulling away with him, while an old lady was screaming out for help or whenever she ran to assist her dog, the baboon made at her as if he would have ravished her, and caught her by the petticoats with one hand, while he had the pug-dog fast by the other. I owed that brute a spite for having attacked me one night when I passed him, and perceiving what was going on, I drew my sword and gave Mr Jacko such a clip, as sent him away howling and bleeding like a pig, leaving me in possession of the little pug, which I took up and handed to his mistress. The old lady trembled very much, and begged me to see her safe home. She had a very fine house, and after she was seated on the sofa, thanked me very much for my gallant assistance, as she termed it, and told me her name was Kearney: upon this I very soon proved my relationship with her, at which she was much delighted, requesting me to consider her house as my home. I was for two years afterwards on that station, and played my cards very well; and the old lady gave me a hint that I should be her heir, as she had no other relations that she knew anything of. At last I was ordered home, and not wishing to leave her, I begged her to accompany me, offering her my cabin. She was taken very ill a fortnight before we sailed, and made a will, leaving me her sole heir; but she recovered, and got as fat as ever. Mr Simple, the wine stands with you. I doubt if Lord Privilege gave you better claret than there is in that bottle: I imported it myself ten years ago, when I commanded theCoquette.”“Very odd,” observed the first lieutenant—“we bought some at Barbadoes with the same mark on the bottles and cork.”“That may be,” replied the captain; “old established houses all keep up the same marks; but I doubt if your wine can be compared to this. You have never tasted older wine, I think, Mr Phillott.”“I beg you pardon, sir; but I can prove to you that I have, for when Noah paid off the ark, my ancestor bought hissea stock, and it’s been handed down to my father: there may be three dozen left.”“Really, Mr Phillott, you are almost too facetious. Will you take some macaroni. It is one of the best things we can have at sea. I wish you had seen my kitchen at Walcot Abbey.”“I have no doubt but it was excellent,” replied Mr Phillott; “but I should have preferred eating what came from it. I wish that I had a knowledge of the art which a friend of mine has—a new science, I may say.”“Pray what may that be?”“They call it fumography.”“Fumography! never heard of it.”“It is the art of knowing precisely, by examination of the smoke which comes out of the chimney, what your neighbour has for dinner.”“Upon my soul, if one could send an excuse at a late hour, that might be useful.”“My friend is quite an adept. He can tell first and second courseentremets, and even if the different articles to be put on the table are done to a turn, or not.”“Now, Mr Simple, what do you think of that?” inquired the captain.“I think, sir, that it’s all smoke.”“Bravo, Mr Simple! you’ve said a very good thing.”So I thought, too; but, as I wasn’t quite sure, I would not laugh till all the rest of the company did.As Mr Phillott wished to hear the end of the captain’s story, he would not contradict him about the wine, by stating what he knew to be the case, that the captain had sent it on board at Barbadoes; and the captain proceeded.“Well, I gave up my cabin to the old lady, and hung up my cot in the gun-room during the passage home. We were becalmed abreast of Ceuta for two days. The old lady was very particular about her pug-dog, and I superintended the washing of the little brute twice a week but at last I was tired of it, and gave him to my coxswain to bathe. My coxswain, who was a lazy fellow, without my knowledge, used to put the little beast into the bight of a rope, and tow him overboard for a minute or so. It was during this calm that he had him overboard in this way, when a confounded shark rose from under the counter, and took in the pug-dog at one mouthful. The coxswain reported the loss as a thing of no consequence; but I knew better, and put the fellow in irons. I then went down and broke the melancholy fact to Miss Kearney, stating that I had put the man in irons, and would flog him well. The old lady broke out into a most violent passion at the intelligence, declared that it was my fault, that I was jealous of the dog, and had done it on purpose. The more I protested, the more she raved; and at last I was obliged to go off deck to avoid her abuse and keep my temper—I had not been on deck five minutes before she came up—that is, was shoved up, for she was so heavy that she could not get up without assistance. You know how elephants in India push the cannon through a morass with their heads from behind; well, my steward used to shove her up the companion-ladder just in the same way, with his head completely buried in her petticoats. As soon as she was up, he used to pull his head out, looking as red and hot as a fresh boiled lobster. Well, up she came, with her will in her hand, and looking at me very fiercely, she said, ‘since the shark has taken my dear dog, he may have my will also,’ and throwing it over board, she plunged down on the carronade slide. ‘It’s very well, madam,’ said I; ‘but you’ll be cool by-and-bye, and then you’ll make another will.’ ‘I swear by all the hopes that I have of going to heaven that I never will!’ replied she. ‘Yes you will, madam,’ replied I. ‘Never, so help me God! Captain Kearney, my money may now go to my next heir, and that, you know, will not be you.’ Now, as I knew very well that the old lady was very positive, and as good as her word, my object was to recover the will, which was floating about fifty yards astern, without her knowledge. I thought a moment, and then I called the boatswain’s mate to pipeall hands to bathe. ‘You’ll excuse me, Miss Kearney,’ said I, ‘but the men are going to bathe, and I do not think you would like to see them all naked. If you would, you can stay on deck.’ She looked daggers at me, and rising from the carronade slide, hobbled to the ladder, saying, that ‘the insult was another proof of how little I deserved any kindness from her.’ As soon as she was below, the quarter-boats were lowered down, and I went in one of them and picked up the will, which still floated. Brigs having no stern-windows, of course she could not see my manoeuvre, but thought that the will was lost for ever. We had very bad weather after that, owing to which, with the loss of her favourite pug, and constant quarrelling with me—for I did all I could to annoy her afterwards—she fell ill, and was buried a fortnight after she was landed at Plymouth. The old lady kept her word; she never made another will. I proved the one I had recovered at Doctor’s Commons, and touched the whole of her money.”As neither the first lieutenant nor I could prove whether the story was true or not, of course we expressed our congratulations at his good fortune, and soon afterwards left the cabin to report the marvellous story to our messmates. I went on deck. I found that the shark had just been hooked, and was being hauled on board. Mr Phillott had also come on deck. The officers were all eager about the shark, and were looking over the side, calling to each other, and giving directions to the men. Now, although certainly there was a want of decorum on the quarter-deck, still the captain having given permission, it was to be excused, but Mr Phillott thought otherwise, and commenced in his usual style, beginning with the marine officer.“Mr Westley, I’ll trouble you not to be getting upon the hammocks. You’ll get off directly, sir. If one of your fellows were to do so, I’d stop his grog for a month, and I don’t see why you are to set a bad example; you’ve been too long in barracks, sir, by half. Who is that?—Mr Williams and Mr Moore—both on the hammocks, too. Up to the fore-topmast head, both of you directly. Mr Thomas, up to the main; and I say, you youngster, stealing off, perch yourself upon the spanker-boom, and let me know when you’ve rode to London. By God! the service is going to hell. I don’t know what officers are made of now-a-days. I’ll marry some of you young gentlemen to the gunner’s daughter before long. Quarter-deck’s no better than a bear garden. No wonder, when lieutenants set the example.”This latter remark could only be applied to O’Brien, who stood in the quarter-boat giving directions, before the tirade of Mr Phillott stopped the amusement of the party. O’Brien immediately stepped out of the boat, and, going up to Mr Phillott, touched his hat, and said, “Mr Phillott, we had the captain’s permission to catch the shark and a shark is not to be got on board by walking up and down on the quarter-deck. As regards myself, as long as the captain is on board, I hold myself responsible to him alone for my conduct; and if you think I have done wrong, forward your complaint; but if you pretend to use such language to me, as you have to others, I shall hold you responsible. I am here, sir, as an officer and a gentleman, and will be treated as such; and allow me to observe, that I consider the quarter-deck more disgraced by foul and ungentlemanly language, than I do by an officer accidentally standing upon the hammocks. However, as you have thought proper to interfere, you may now get the shark on board yourself.”Mr Phillott turned very red, for he never had come in contact in this way with O’Brien. All the other officers had submitted quietly to his unpleasant manner of speaking to them. “Very well, Mr O’Brien; I shall hold you answerable for this language,” replied he, “and shall most certainly report your conduct to the captain.”“I will save you the trouble; Captain Kearney is now coming up, and I will report it myself.”This O’Brien did, upon the captain’s putting his foot on the quarter-deck.“Well,” observed the captain to Mr Phillott, “what is it you complain of?”“Mr O’Brien’s language, sir. Am I to be addressed on the quarter-deck in that manner?”“I really must say, Mr Phillott,” replied Captain Kearney, “that I do not perceive anything in what Mr O’Brien said, but what is correct. I command here; and if an officer so nearly equal in rank to yourself has committed himself, you are not to take the law into your own hands. The fact is, Mr Phillott, your language is not quite so correct as I could wish it. I overheard every word that passed, and I consider that you have treated yoursuperiorofficer with disrespect—that isme. I gave permission that the shark should be caught, and with that permission, I consequently allowed those little deviations from the discipline of the service, which must inevitably take place. Yet you have thought proper to interfere with my permission, which is tantamount to an order, and have made use of harsh language, and punished the young gentlemen for obeying my injunctions. You will oblige me, sir, by calling them all down, and in restraining your petulance for the future. I will always support your authority when you are correct; but I regret that, in this instance, you have necessitated me to weaken it.”This was a most severe check to Mr Phillott, who immediately went below, after hailing the mast-heads, and calling down the midshipmen. As soon as he was gone, we were all on the hammocks again; the shark was hauled forward, hoisted on board, and every frying-pan in the ship was in requisition. We were all much pleased with Captain Kearney’s conduct on this occasion; and, as O’Brien observed to me, “He really is a good fellow and clever officer. What a thousand pities it is that he is such a confounded liar!” I must do Mr Phillott the justice to say that he bore no malice on this occasion, but treated us as before, which is saying a great deal in his favour, when it is considered what power a first lieutenant has of annoying and punishing his inferiors.

As the admiral was not one who would permit the ships under his command to lie idle in port, in a very few days after the dignity hall which I have described, all the squadron sailed on their various destinations. I was not sorry to leave the bay, for one soon becomes tired of profusion, and I cared nothing for either oranges, bananas, or shaddocks, nor even for the good dinners and claret at the tables of the army mess and gentlemen of the island. The sea breeze soon became more precious to us than anything else; and if we could have bathed without the fear of a shark, we should have equally appreciated that most refreshing of all luxuries under the torrid zone. It was therefore with pleasure that we received the information that we were to sail the next day to cruise off the French island of Martinique. Captain Kearney had been so much on shore that we saw but little of him, and the ship was entirely under the control of the first lieutenant, of whom I have hitherto not spoken. He was a very short, pock-marked man, with red hair and whiskers, a good sailor, and not a bad officer; that is, he was a practical sailor, and could show any foremast man his duty in any department, and this seamen very much appreciate, as it is not very common; but I never yet knew an officer who prided himself upon his practical knowledge, who was at the same time a good navigator; and too often, by assuming the Jack Tar, they lower the respect due to them, and become coarse and vulgar in their manners and language. This was the case with Mr Phillott, who prided himself upon his slang, and who was at one time “hail fellow, well met” with the seamen, talking to them, and being answered as familiarly as if they were equals, and at another, knocking the very same men down with a handspike if he were displeased. He was not bad tempered, but very hasty; and his language to the officers was occasionally very incorrect—to the midshipmen invariably so. However, on the whole, he was not disliked, although he was certainly not respected as a first lieutenant should have been. It is but fair to say that he was the same to his superiors as he was to his inferiors; and the bluntness with which he used to contradict and assert his disbelief of Captain Kearney’s narratives often produced a coolness between them for some days.

The day after we sailed from Carlisle Bay I was asked to dine in the cabin. The dinner was served upon plated dishes, which looked very grand, but there was not much in them. “This plate,” observed the captain, “was presented to me by some merchants for my exertions in saving their property from the Danes, when I was cruising off Heligoland.”

“Why, that lying steward of yours told me that you bought it at Portsmouth,” replied the first lieutenant: “I asked him in the galley this morning.”

“How came you to assert such a confounded falsehood, sir?” said the captain to the man who stood behind his chair.

“I only said that I thought so,” replied the steward.

“Why, didn’t you say that the bill had been sent in, through you, seven or eight times, and that the captain had paid it with a flowing sheet?”

“Did you dare say that, sir?” interrogated the captain, very angrily.

“Mr Phillott mistook me, sir,” replied the steward. “He was so busy damning the sweepers, that he did not hear me right. I said, the midshipmen had paid their crockery bill with the fore-topsail.”

“Ay, ay,” replied the captain, “that’s much more likely.”

“Well, Mr Steward,” replied Mr Phillott, “I’ll be damned if you ar’n’t as big a liar as your—” (master he was going to plump out, but fortunately the first lieutenant checked himself, and added)—“as your father was before you.”

The captain changed the conversation by asking me whether I would take a slice of ham. “It’s real Westphalia, Mr Simple; I have them sent me direct by Count Troningsken, an intimate friend of mine, who kills his own wild boars in the Hartz mountains.”

“How the devil do you get them over, Captain Kearney?”

“There are ways and means of doing everything, Mr Phillott, and the First Consul is not quite so bad as he is represented. The first batch was sent over with a very handsome letter to me, written in his own hand, which I will show you some of these days. I wrote to him in return, and sent to him two Cheshire cheeses by a smuggler, and since that they came regularly. Did you ever eat Westphalia ham, Mr Simple?”

“Yes, sir,” replied I: “once I partook of one at Lord Privilege’s.”

“Lord Privilege! why he’s a distant relation of mine, a sort of fifth cousin,” replied Captain Kearney.

“Indeed, sir,” replied I.

“Then you must allow me to introduce you to a relation, Captain Kearney,” said the first lieutenant; “for Mr Simple is his grandson.”

“Is it possible? I can only say, Mr Simple, that I shall be most happy to show you every attention, and am very glad that I have you as one of my officers.”

Now, although this was all false, for Captain Kearney was not in the remotest manner connected with my family, yet, having once asserted it, he could not retract, and the consequence was, that I was much the gainer by his falsehood, as he treated me very kindly afterwards, always calling me cousin.

The first lieutenant smiled, and gave me a wink, when the captain had finished his speech to me, as much as to say, “You’re in luck,” and then the conversation changed. Captain Kearney certainly dealt in the marvellous to admiration, and really told his stories with such earnestness, that I actually believe that he thought he was telling the truth. Never was there such an instance of confirmed habit. Telling a story of a cutting-out expedition, he said, “The French captain would have fallen by my hand, but just as I levelled my musket, a ball came, and cut off the cock of the lock, as clean as if it was done with a knife—a very remarkable instance,” observed he.

“Not equal to what occurred in a ship I was in,” replied the first lieutenant, “when the second lieutenant was grazed by a grape shot, which cut off one of his whiskers, and turning round his head to ascertain what was the matter, another grape shot came and took off the other. Now that’s what I call a close shave.”

“Yes,” replied Captain Kearney, “very close, indeed, if it were true; but you’ll excuse me, Mr Phillott, but you sometimes tell strange stories. I do not mind it myself, but the example is not good to my young relation here, Mr Simple.”

“Captain Kearney,” replied the first lieutenant, laughing very immoderately, “do you know what the pot called the kettle?”

“No, sir, I do not,” retorted the captain, with offended dignity. “Mr Simple, will you take a glass of wine?”

I thought that this littlebrouilleriewould have checked the captain; it did so, but only for a few minutes, when he again commenced. The first lieutenant observed that it would be necessary to let water into the ship every morning, and pump it out, to avoid the smell of the bilge water.

“There are worse smells than bilge water,” replied the captain. “What do you think of a whole ship’s company being nearly poisoned with otto of roses? Yet that occurred to me when in the Mediterranean. I was off Smyrna, cruising for a French ship, that was to sail to France, with a pacha on board, as an ambassador. I knew she would be a good prize, and was looking sharp out, when one morning we discovered her on the lee bow. We made all sail, but she walked away from us, bearing away gradually till we were both before the wind, and at night we lost sight of her. As I knew that she was bound to Marseilles, I made all sail to fall in with her again. The wind was light and variable; but five days afterwards, as I lay in my cot, just before daylight, I smelt a very strong smell, blowing in at the weather port, and coming down the skylight which was open; and after sniffing at it two or three times, I knew it to be otto of roses. I sent for the officer of the watch, and asked him if there were anything in sight. He replied ‘that there was not;’ and I ordered him to sweep the horizon with his glass, and look well out to windward. As the wind freshened, the smell became more powerful. I ordered him to get the royal yards across, and all ready to make sail, for I knew that the Turk must be near us. At daylight, there he was, just three miles ahead in the wind’s eye. But although he beat us going free, he was no match for us on a wind, and before noon we had possession of him and all his harem. By-the-bye, I could tell you a good story about the ladies. She was a very valuable prize, and among other things she had apuncheonof otto of roses on board—”

“Whew!” cried the first lieutenant. “What! a whole puncheon?”

“Yes,” replied the captain, “a Turkish puncheon—not quite so large, perhaps, as ours on board; their weights and measures are different. I took out most of the valuables into the brig I commanded—about 20,000 sequins—carpets—and among the rest, this cask of otto of roses, which we had smelt three miles off. We had it safe on board, when the mate of the hold, not slinging it properly, it fell into the spirit-room with a run and was stove to pieces. Never was such a scene; my first lieutenant and several men on deck fainted; and the men in the hold were brought up lifeless: it was some time before they were recovered. We let the water into the brig, and pumped it out, but nothing would take away the smell, which was so overpowering, that before I could get to Malta I had forty men on the sick-list. When I arrived there, I turned the mate out of the service for his carelessness. It was not until after having smoked the brig, and finding that of little use, after having sunk her for three weeks, that the smell was at all bearable; but even then it could never be eradicated, and the admiral sent the brig home, and she was sold out of the service. They could do nothing with her at the dock-yards. She was broken up, and bought by the people at Brighton and Tunbridge Wells, who used her timbers for turning fancy articles, which, smelling as they did so strongly of otto of roses, proved very profitable. Were you ever at Brighton, Mr Simple?”

“Never, sir.”

Just at this moment, the officer of the watch came down to say that there was a very large shark under the counter, and wished to know if the captain had any objection to the officers attempting to catch it.

“By no means,” replied Captain Kearney; “I hate sharks as I do the devil. I nearly lost 14,000 pounds by one, when I was in the Mediterranean.”

“May I inquire how, Captain Kearney;” said the first lieutenant, with a demure face; “I’m very anxious to know.”

“Why the story is simply this,” replied the captain. “I had an old relation at Malta, whom I found out by accident—an old maid of sixty, who had lived all her life on the island. It was by mere accident that I knew of her existence. I was walking upon Strada Reale, when I saw a large baboon that was kept there, who had a little fat pug-dog by the tail, which he was pulling away with him, while an old lady was screaming out for help or whenever she ran to assist her dog, the baboon made at her as if he would have ravished her, and caught her by the petticoats with one hand, while he had the pug-dog fast by the other. I owed that brute a spite for having attacked me one night when I passed him, and perceiving what was going on, I drew my sword and gave Mr Jacko such a clip, as sent him away howling and bleeding like a pig, leaving me in possession of the little pug, which I took up and handed to his mistress. The old lady trembled very much, and begged me to see her safe home. She had a very fine house, and after she was seated on the sofa, thanked me very much for my gallant assistance, as she termed it, and told me her name was Kearney: upon this I very soon proved my relationship with her, at which she was much delighted, requesting me to consider her house as my home. I was for two years afterwards on that station, and played my cards very well; and the old lady gave me a hint that I should be her heir, as she had no other relations that she knew anything of. At last I was ordered home, and not wishing to leave her, I begged her to accompany me, offering her my cabin. She was taken very ill a fortnight before we sailed, and made a will, leaving me her sole heir; but she recovered, and got as fat as ever. Mr Simple, the wine stands with you. I doubt if Lord Privilege gave you better claret than there is in that bottle: I imported it myself ten years ago, when I commanded theCoquette.”

“Very odd,” observed the first lieutenant—“we bought some at Barbadoes with the same mark on the bottles and cork.”

“That may be,” replied the captain; “old established houses all keep up the same marks; but I doubt if your wine can be compared to this. You have never tasted older wine, I think, Mr Phillott.”

“I beg you pardon, sir; but I can prove to you that I have, for when Noah paid off the ark, my ancestor bought hissea stock, and it’s been handed down to my father: there may be three dozen left.”

“Really, Mr Phillott, you are almost too facetious. Will you take some macaroni. It is one of the best things we can have at sea. I wish you had seen my kitchen at Walcot Abbey.”

“I have no doubt but it was excellent,” replied Mr Phillott; “but I should have preferred eating what came from it. I wish that I had a knowledge of the art which a friend of mine has—a new science, I may say.”

“Pray what may that be?”

“They call it fumography.”

“Fumography! never heard of it.”

“It is the art of knowing precisely, by examination of the smoke which comes out of the chimney, what your neighbour has for dinner.”

“Upon my soul, if one could send an excuse at a late hour, that might be useful.”

“My friend is quite an adept. He can tell first and second courseentremets, and even if the different articles to be put on the table are done to a turn, or not.”

“Now, Mr Simple, what do you think of that?” inquired the captain.

“I think, sir, that it’s all smoke.”

“Bravo, Mr Simple! you’ve said a very good thing.”

So I thought, too; but, as I wasn’t quite sure, I would not laugh till all the rest of the company did.

As Mr Phillott wished to hear the end of the captain’s story, he would not contradict him about the wine, by stating what he knew to be the case, that the captain had sent it on board at Barbadoes; and the captain proceeded.

“Well, I gave up my cabin to the old lady, and hung up my cot in the gun-room during the passage home. We were becalmed abreast of Ceuta for two days. The old lady was very particular about her pug-dog, and I superintended the washing of the little brute twice a week but at last I was tired of it, and gave him to my coxswain to bathe. My coxswain, who was a lazy fellow, without my knowledge, used to put the little beast into the bight of a rope, and tow him overboard for a minute or so. It was during this calm that he had him overboard in this way, when a confounded shark rose from under the counter, and took in the pug-dog at one mouthful. The coxswain reported the loss as a thing of no consequence; but I knew better, and put the fellow in irons. I then went down and broke the melancholy fact to Miss Kearney, stating that I had put the man in irons, and would flog him well. The old lady broke out into a most violent passion at the intelligence, declared that it was my fault, that I was jealous of the dog, and had done it on purpose. The more I protested, the more she raved; and at last I was obliged to go off deck to avoid her abuse and keep my temper—I had not been on deck five minutes before she came up—that is, was shoved up, for she was so heavy that she could not get up without assistance. You know how elephants in India push the cannon through a morass with their heads from behind; well, my steward used to shove her up the companion-ladder just in the same way, with his head completely buried in her petticoats. As soon as she was up, he used to pull his head out, looking as red and hot as a fresh boiled lobster. Well, up she came, with her will in her hand, and looking at me very fiercely, she said, ‘since the shark has taken my dear dog, he may have my will also,’ and throwing it over board, she plunged down on the carronade slide. ‘It’s very well, madam,’ said I; ‘but you’ll be cool by-and-bye, and then you’ll make another will.’ ‘I swear by all the hopes that I have of going to heaven that I never will!’ replied she. ‘Yes you will, madam,’ replied I. ‘Never, so help me God! Captain Kearney, my money may now go to my next heir, and that, you know, will not be you.’ Now, as I knew very well that the old lady was very positive, and as good as her word, my object was to recover the will, which was floating about fifty yards astern, without her knowledge. I thought a moment, and then I called the boatswain’s mate to pipeall hands to bathe. ‘You’ll excuse me, Miss Kearney,’ said I, ‘but the men are going to bathe, and I do not think you would like to see them all naked. If you would, you can stay on deck.’ She looked daggers at me, and rising from the carronade slide, hobbled to the ladder, saying, that ‘the insult was another proof of how little I deserved any kindness from her.’ As soon as she was below, the quarter-boats were lowered down, and I went in one of them and picked up the will, which still floated. Brigs having no stern-windows, of course she could not see my manoeuvre, but thought that the will was lost for ever. We had very bad weather after that, owing to which, with the loss of her favourite pug, and constant quarrelling with me—for I did all I could to annoy her afterwards—she fell ill, and was buried a fortnight after she was landed at Plymouth. The old lady kept her word; she never made another will. I proved the one I had recovered at Doctor’s Commons, and touched the whole of her money.”

As neither the first lieutenant nor I could prove whether the story was true or not, of course we expressed our congratulations at his good fortune, and soon afterwards left the cabin to report the marvellous story to our messmates. I went on deck. I found that the shark had just been hooked, and was being hauled on board. Mr Phillott had also come on deck. The officers were all eager about the shark, and were looking over the side, calling to each other, and giving directions to the men. Now, although certainly there was a want of decorum on the quarter-deck, still the captain having given permission, it was to be excused, but Mr Phillott thought otherwise, and commenced in his usual style, beginning with the marine officer.

“Mr Westley, I’ll trouble you not to be getting upon the hammocks. You’ll get off directly, sir. If one of your fellows were to do so, I’d stop his grog for a month, and I don’t see why you are to set a bad example; you’ve been too long in barracks, sir, by half. Who is that?—Mr Williams and Mr Moore—both on the hammocks, too. Up to the fore-topmast head, both of you directly. Mr Thomas, up to the main; and I say, you youngster, stealing off, perch yourself upon the spanker-boom, and let me know when you’ve rode to London. By God! the service is going to hell. I don’t know what officers are made of now-a-days. I’ll marry some of you young gentlemen to the gunner’s daughter before long. Quarter-deck’s no better than a bear garden. No wonder, when lieutenants set the example.”

This latter remark could only be applied to O’Brien, who stood in the quarter-boat giving directions, before the tirade of Mr Phillott stopped the amusement of the party. O’Brien immediately stepped out of the boat, and, going up to Mr Phillott, touched his hat, and said, “Mr Phillott, we had the captain’s permission to catch the shark and a shark is not to be got on board by walking up and down on the quarter-deck. As regards myself, as long as the captain is on board, I hold myself responsible to him alone for my conduct; and if you think I have done wrong, forward your complaint; but if you pretend to use such language to me, as you have to others, I shall hold you responsible. I am here, sir, as an officer and a gentleman, and will be treated as such; and allow me to observe, that I consider the quarter-deck more disgraced by foul and ungentlemanly language, than I do by an officer accidentally standing upon the hammocks. However, as you have thought proper to interfere, you may now get the shark on board yourself.”

Mr Phillott turned very red, for he never had come in contact in this way with O’Brien. All the other officers had submitted quietly to his unpleasant manner of speaking to them. “Very well, Mr O’Brien; I shall hold you answerable for this language,” replied he, “and shall most certainly report your conduct to the captain.”

“I will save you the trouble; Captain Kearney is now coming up, and I will report it myself.”

This O’Brien did, upon the captain’s putting his foot on the quarter-deck.

“Well,” observed the captain to Mr Phillott, “what is it you complain of?”

“Mr O’Brien’s language, sir. Am I to be addressed on the quarter-deck in that manner?”

“I really must say, Mr Phillott,” replied Captain Kearney, “that I do not perceive anything in what Mr O’Brien said, but what is correct. I command here; and if an officer so nearly equal in rank to yourself has committed himself, you are not to take the law into your own hands. The fact is, Mr Phillott, your language is not quite so correct as I could wish it. I overheard every word that passed, and I consider that you have treated yoursuperiorofficer with disrespect—that isme. I gave permission that the shark should be caught, and with that permission, I consequently allowed those little deviations from the discipline of the service, which must inevitably take place. Yet you have thought proper to interfere with my permission, which is tantamount to an order, and have made use of harsh language, and punished the young gentlemen for obeying my injunctions. You will oblige me, sir, by calling them all down, and in restraining your petulance for the future. I will always support your authority when you are correct; but I regret that, in this instance, you have necessitated me to weaken it.”

This was a most severe check to Mr Phillott, who immediately went below, after hailing the mast-heads, and calling down the midshipmen. As soon as he was gone, we were all on the hammocks again; the shark was hauled forward, hoisted on board, and every frying-pan in the ship was in requisition. We were all much pleased with Captain Kearney’s conduct on this occasion; and, as O’Brien observed to me, “He really is a good fellow and clever officer. What a thousand pities it is that he is such a confounded liar!” I must do Mr Phillott the justice to say that he bore no malice on this occasion, but treated us as before, which is saying a great deal in his favour, when it is considered what power a first lieutenant has of annoying and punishing his inferiors.

Chapter Thirty Three.Another set-to between the captain and first lieutenant—Cutting-out expedition—Mr Chucks mistaken—He dies like a gentleman—Swinburne begins his account of the battle of St. Vincent.We had not been more than a week under the Danish island of St. Thomas, when we discovered a brig close in-shore. We made all sail in chase, and soon came within a mile and a half of the shore, when she anchored under a battery, which opened its fire upon us. Their elevation was too great, and several shots passed over us and between our masts.“I once met with a very remarkable circumstance,” observed Captain Kearney. “Three guns were fired at a frigate I was on board of, from a battery, all at the same time. The three shots cut away the three topsail ties, and down came all our topsail-yards upon the cap at the same time. That the Frenchmen might not suppose that they had taken such good aim, we turned up our hands to reef topsails; and by the time that the men were off the yards, the ties were spliced, and the topsails run up again.”Mr Phillott could not stand this most enormous fib, and he replied, “Very odd, indeed, Captain Kearney: but I have known a stranger circumstance. We had put in the powder to the four guns on the main deck, when we were fighting the Danish gun-boats, in a frigate I was in; and as the men withdrew the rammer, a shot from the enemy entered the muzzle and completed the loading of each gun. We fired their own shot back upon them, and this occurred three times running.”“Upon my word,” replied Captain Kearney, who had his glass upon the battery, “I think you must have dreamt that circumstance, Mr Phillott.”“Not more than you did about the topsail ties, Captain Kearney.”Captain Kearney at that time had the long glass in his hand, holding it up over his shoulder. A shot from the battery whizzed over his head, and took the glass out of his hand, shivering it to pieces. “That’s once,” said Captain Kearney, very coolly; “but will you pretend that that could ever happen three times running? They might take my head off, or my arm, next time, but not another glass; whereas the topsail ties might be cut by three different shot. But give me another glass, Mr Simple, I am certain that this vessel is a privateer. What think you, Mr O’Brien?”“I am every bit of your opinion, Captain Kearney,” replied O’Brien; “and I think it would be a very pretty bit of practice to the ship’s company to take her out from under that footy battery.”“Starboard the helm, Mr Phillott; keep away four points, and then we will think of it to-night.”The frigate was now kept away, and ran out of the fire of the battery. It was then about an hour before sunset, and in the West Indies the sun does not set as it does in the northern latitudes. There is no twilight: he descends in glory, surrounded with clouds of gold and rubies in their gorgeous tints; and once below the horizon, all is dark.As soon as it was dark, we hauled our wind off shore; and a consultation being held between the captain, Mr Phillott, and O’Brien, the captain at last decided that the attempt should be made. Indeed, although cutting out is a very serious affair, as you combat under every disadvantage, still the mischief done to our trade by the fast-sailing privateers was so great in the West Indies, that almost every sacrifice was warrantable for the interests of the country. Still Captain Kearney, although a brave and prudent officer—one who calculated chances, and who would not risk his men without he deemed that necessity imperiously demanded that such should be done—was averse to this attack, from his knowledge of the hay in which the brig was anchored; and although Mr Phillott and O’Brien both were of opinion that it should be a night attack, Captain Kearney decided otherwise. He considered that although the risk might be greater, yet the force employed would be more consolidated, and that those who would hold back in the night dare not do so during the day. Moreover, that the people on shore in the battery, as well as those in the privateer, would be on the alert all night, and not expecting an attack during the day, would be taken off their guard. It was therefore directed that everything should be in preparation during the night, and that the boats should shove off before daylight, and row in-shore, concealing themselves behind some rocks under the cliffs which formed the cape upon one side of the harbour; and, if not discovered, remain there till noon, at which time it was probable that the privateer’s men would be on shore, and the vessel might be captured without difficulty.It is always a scene of much interest on board a man-of-war when preparations are made for an expedition of this description; and as the reader may not have been witness to them, it may perhaps be interesting to describe them. The boats of men-of-war have generally two crews; the common boats’ crew, which are selected so as not to take away the most useful men from the ship; and the service, or fighting boats’ crew, which are selected from the very best men on board. The coxswains of the boats are the most trustworthy men in the ship, and, on this occasion, have to see that their boats are properly equipped.The launch, yawl, first and second cutters, were the boats appointed for the expedition. They all carried guns mounted upon slides, which ran fore and aft between the men. After the boats were hoisted out, the guns were lowered down into them and shipped in the bows of the boats. The arm-chests were next handed in, which contained the cartridges and ammunition. The shut were put into the bottom of the boats; and so far they were all ready. The oars of the boats were fitted to pull with grummets upon iron thole-pins, that they might make little noise, and might swing fore and aft without falling overboard, when the boats pulled alongside the privateer. A breaker or two (that is, small casks holding about seven gallons each) of water was put into each boat, and also the men’s allowance of spirits, in case they should be detained by any unforeseen circumstances. The men belonging to the boats were fully employed in looking after their arms; some fitting their flints to their pistols, others, and the major part of them, sharpening their cutlasses at the grindstone, or with a file borrowed from the armourer—all were busy and all merry. The very idea of going into action is a source of joy to an English sailor, and more jokes are made, more merriment excited, at that time than any other. Then, as it often happens, that one or two of the service boats’ crews may be on the sick-list, urgent solicitations are made by others that they may supply their places. The only parties who appear at all grave are those who are to remain in the frigate, and not share in the expedition. There is no occasion to order the boats to be manned, for the men are generally in long before they are piped away. Indeed, one would think that it was a party of pleasure instead of danger and of death upon which they were about to proceed.Captain Kearney selected the officers who were to have the charge of the boats. He would not trust any of the midshipmen on so dangerous a service. He said, that he had known so many occasions in which their rashness and foolhardiness had spoilt an expedition; he therefore appointed Mr Phillott, the first lieutenant, to the launch; O’Brien to the yawl; the master to the first, and Mr Chucks, the boatswain, to the second cutter. Mr Chucks was much pleased with the idea of having the command of a boat, and asked me to come with him, to which I consented, although I had intended as usual, to have gone with O’Brien.About an hour before daylight we ran the frigate to within a mile and a half of the shore, and the boats shoved off; the frigate then wore round, and stood out in the offing, that she might at daylight be at such a distance as not to excite any suspicion that our boats were sent away, while we in the boats pulled quietly in-shore. We were not a quarter of an hour before we arrived at the cape forming one side of the bay, and were well secreted among the cluster of rocks which was underneath. Our oars were laid in; the boats’ painters made fast; and orders given for the strictest silence. The rocks were very high, and the boats were not to be seen without any one should come to the edge of the precipice; and even then they would, in all probability, have been supposed to have been rocks. The water was as smooth as glass, and when it was broad daylight, the men hung listlessly over the sides of the boats, looking at the corals below, and watching the fish as they glided between.“I can’t say, Mr Simple,” said Mr Chucks to me in an undertone “that I think well of this expedition; and I have an idea that some of us will lose the number of our mess. After a calm comes a storm; and how quiet is everything now! But I’ll take off my great coat, for the sun is hot already. Coxswain, give me my jacket.”Mr Chucks, had put on his great coat, but not his jacket underneath, which he had left on one of the guns on the main deck, all ready to change as soon as the heavy dew had gone off. The coxswain handed him the jacket, and Mr Chucks threw off his great coat to put it on; but when it was opened, it proved, that by mistake he had taken away the jacket, surmounted by two small epaulets, belonging to Captain Kearney, which the captain’s steward, who had taken it out to brush, had also laid upon the same gun.“By all the nobility of England!” cried Mr Chucks, “I have taken away the captain’s jacket by mistake. Here’s a pretty mess! if I put on my great coat I shall be dead with sweating; if I put on no jacket I shall be roasted brown; but if I put on the captain’s jacket I shall be considered disrespectful.”The men in the boats tittered; and Mr Phillot, who was in the launch next to us, turned round to see what was the matter, O’Brien was sitting in the stern-sheets of the launch with the first lieutenant, and I leaned over and told them.“By the powers! I don’t see why the captain’s jacket will be at all hurt by Mr Chucks putting it on,” replied O’Brien; “unless, indeed, a bullet were to go through it, and then it won’t be any fault of Mr Chucks.”“No,” replied the first lieutenant; “and if one did, the captain might keep the jacket, and swear that the bullet went round his body without wounding him. He’ll have a good yarn to spin. So put it on, Mr Chucks; you’ll make a good mark for the enemy.”“That I will stand the risk of with pleasure,” observed the boatswain to me, “for the sake of being considered a gentleman. So here’s on with it.”There was a general laugh when Mr Chucks pulled on the captain’s jacket, and sank down in the stern-sheets of the cutter, with great complacency of countenance. One of the men in the boat that we were in thought proper, however, to continue his laugh a little longer than Mr Chucks considered necessary, who, leaning forward, thus addressed him: “I say, Mr Webber, I beg leave to observe to you, in the most delicate manner in the world—just to hint to you—that it is not the custom to laugh at your superior officer. I mean just to insinuate, that you are a damned impudent son of a sea cook; and if we both live and do well, I will prove to you, that if I am to be laughed at in a boat with the captain’s jacket on, that I am not to be laughed at on board the frigate with the boatswain’s rattan in my fist; and so look out, my hearty, for squalls, when you come on the forecastle; for I’ll be damned if I don’t make you see more stars than God Almighty ever made, and cut more capers than all the dancing masters in France. Mark my words, you burgoo-eating, pea-soup-swilling, trowsers-scrubbing son of a bitch!”Mr Chucks, having at the end of this oration raised his voice above the pitch required by the exigency of the service, was called to order by the first lieutenant, and again sank back into the stern-sheets with all the importance and authoritative show peculiarly appertaining to a pair of epaulets.We waited behind the rocks until noonday, without being discovered by the enemy, so well were we concealed. We had already sent an officer, who, carefully hiding himself by lying down on the rocks, had several times reconnoitred the enemy. Boats were passing and repassing continualhy from the privateer to the shore; and it appeared, that they went on shore full of men, and returned with only one or two; so that we were in great hopes that we should find but few men to defend the vessel. Mr Phillott looked at his watch, held it up to O’Brien, to prove that he had complied exactly with the orders he had received from the captain, and then gave the word to get the boats under weigh. The painters were cast off by the bowmen, the guns were loaded and primed, the men seized their oars, and in two minutes we were clear of the rocks, and drawn up in a line within a quarter of a mile from the harbour’s mouth, and not half a mile from the privateer brig. We rowed as quickly as possible, but we did not cheer until the enemy fired the first gun; which he did from a quarter unexpected, as we entered the mouth of the harbour, with our union jack trailing in the water over our stern for it was a dead calm. It appeared, that at the low point under the cliffs, at each side of the little bay, they had raised a water battery of two guns each. One of these guns, laden with grape shot, was now fired at the boats, but the elevation was too low, and although the water was ploughed up to within five yards of the launch, no injury was received. We were equally fortunate in the discharge of the other three guns; two of which we passed so quickly, that they were not aimed sufficiently forward, so that their shot fell astern; and the other, although the shot fell among us, did no further injury than cutting in half two of the oars of the first cutter.In the meantime, we had observed that the boats had shoved off from the privateer as soon as they had perceived us, and had returned to her laden with men: the boats had been despatched a second time, but had not yet returned. They were now about the same distance from the privateer as were our boats, and it was quite undecided which of us would be first on board. O’Brien perceiving this, pointed out to Mr Phillott that we should first attack the boats, and afterwards board on the side to which they pulled; as, in all probability, there would be an opening left in the boarding nettings, which were tied up to the yard-arms, and presented a formidable obstacle to our success. Mr Phillott agreed with O’Brien: he ordered the bowmen to lay in their oars and keep the guns pointed ready to fire at the word given, and desiring the other men to pull their best. Every nerve, every muscle was brought into play by our anxious and intrepid seamen. When within about twenty yards of the vessel, and also of the boats, the orders were given to fire—the carronade of the launch poured out round and grape so well directed, that one of the French boats sank immediately; and the musket balls with which our other smaller guns were loaded, did great execution among their men. In one minute more, with three cheers from our sailors, we were all alongside together, English and French boats pellmell, and a most determined close conflict took place. The French fought desperately, and as they were overpowered, they were reinforced by those from the privateer, who could not look on and behold their companions requiring their assistance, without coming to their aid. Some jumped down into our boats from the chains, into the midst of our men; others darted cold shot at us, either to kill us or to sink our boats; and thus did one of the most desperate hand-to-hand conflicts take place that ever was witnessed.But it was soon decided in our favour, for we were the stronger party and the better armed; and when all opposition was over, we jumped into the privateer, and found not a man left on board, only a large dog, who flew at O’Brien’s throat as he entered the port.“Don’t kill him,” said O’Brien, as the sailors hastened to his assistance; “only take away his gripe.”The sailors disengaged the dog, and O’Brien led him up to a gun, saying, “By Jasus, my boy, you are my prisoner.”But although we had possession of the privateer, our difficulties, as it will prove, were by no means over. We were now exposed not only to the fire of the two batteries at the harbour-mouth which we had to pass, but also to that of the battery at the bottom of the bay, which had fired at the frigate. In the meantime, we were very busy in cutting the cable, lowering the topsails, and taking the wounded men on board the privateer, from out of the boats. All this was, however, but the work of a few minutes. Most of the Frenchmen were killed; our own wounded amounted to only nine seamen and Mr Chucks, the boatswain, who was shot through the body, apparently with little chance of surviving. As Mr Phillott observed, the captain’s epaulets had made him a mark for the enemy, and he had fallen in his borrowed plumes.As soon as they were all on board, and laid on the deck—for there were, as near as I can recollect, about fourteen wounded Frenchmen as well as our own—two ropes were got out forwards, the boats were manned, and we proceeded to tow the brig out of the harbour. It was a dead calm, and we made but little way, but our boat’s crew, flushed with victory, cheered, and rallied, and pulled, with all their strength. The enemy, perceiving that the privateer was taken, and the French boats drifting empty up the harbour, now opened their fire upon us, and with great effect. Before we had towed abreast of the two water batteries, we had received three shots between wind and water, from the other batteries, and the sea was pouring fast into the vessel. I had been attending to poor Mr Chucks, who lay on the starboard side, near the wheel, the blood flowing from his wound, and tracing its course down the planks of the deck, to a distance of some feet from where he lay. He appeared very faint, and I tied my handkerchief round his body, so as to stop the effusion of blood, and brought him some water, with which I bathed his face, and poured some into his mouth. He opened his eyes wide, and looked at me.“Ah, Mr Simple,” said he, faintly, “is it you? It’s all over with me but it could not be better—could it?”“How do you mean?” inquired I.“Why, have I not fallen dressed like an officer and a gentleman?” said he, referring to the captain’s jacket and epaulets. “I’d sooner die now, with this dress on, than to recover to put on the boatswain’s uniform. I feel quite happy.”He pressed my hand, and then closed his eyes again, from weakness. We were now nearly abreast of the two batteries on the points, the guns of which had been trained so as to bear upon our boats that were towing out the brig. The first shot went through the bottom of the launch, and sank her; fortunately, all the men were saved; but as she was the boat that towed next to the brig, great delay occurred in getting the others clear of her, and taking the brig again in tow. The shot now poured in thick, and the grape became very annoying. Still our men gave way, cheering at every shot fired, and we had nearly passed the batteries, with trifling loss, when we perceived that the brig was so full of water, that she could not swim many minutes longer, and that it would be impossible to tow her alongside of the frigate. Mr Phillott, under these circumstances, decided that it would be useless to risk more lives, and that the wounded should be taken out of the brig, and the boats should pull away from the ship. He desired me to get the wounded men into the cutter which he sent alongside, and then to follow the other boats. I made all the haste I could, not wishing to be left behind; and as soon as all our wounded men were in the boats, I went to Mr Chucks, to remove him. He appeared somewhat revived, but would not allow us to remove him.“My dear Mr Simple,” said he, “it is of no use; I can never recover it, and I prefer dying here. I entreat you not to move me. If the enemy take possession of the brig before she sinks, I shall be buried with military honours; if they do not, I shall at least die in the dress of a gentleman. Hasten away as fast as you can, before you lose more men. Here I stay—that’s decided.”I expostulated with him, but at that time two boats full of men appeared, pulling out of the harbour to the brig. The enemy had perceived that our boats had deserted her, and were coming to take possession. I had therefore no time to urge Mr Chucks to change his resolution, and not wishing to force a dying man, I shook his hand and left him. It was with some difficulty I escaped, for the boats had come up close to the brig; they chased me a little while, but the yawl and the cutter turning back to my assistance, they gave up the pursuit. On the whole, this was a very well arranged and well conducted expedition. The only man lost was Mr Chucks, for the wounds of the others were none of them mortal. Captain Kearney was quite satisfied with our conduct, and so was the admiral, when it was reported to him. Captain Kearney did indeed grumble a little about his jacket, and sent for me to inquire why I had not taken it off Mr Chucks, and brought it on board. As I did not choose to tell him the exact truth, I replied that I could not disturb a dying man, and that the jacket was so saturated with blood, that he never could have worn it again,—which was the case.“At all events, you might have brought away my epaulets,” replied he; “but you youngsters think of nothing but gormandising.”I had the first watch that night, when Swinburne, the quarter master, came up to me, and asked me all the particulars of the affair, for he was not in the boats. “Well,” said he, “that Mr Chucks appeared to be a very good boatswain in his way, if he could only have kept his rattan a little quiet. He was a smart fellow, and knew his duty. We had just such another killed in our ship, in the action off Cape St. Vincent.”“What! were you in that action?” replied I.“Yes, I was, and belonged to theCaptain, Lord Nelson’s ship.”“Well, then suppose you tell me all about it.”“Why, Mr Simple, d’ye see, I’ve no objection to spin you a yarn now and then,” replied Swinburne; “but as Mr Chucks used to say, allow me to observe, in the most delicate manner in the world, that I perceive that the man who has charge of your hammock, and slings you a clean one now and then, has very often a good glass of grog for hisyarns, and I do not see but that mine are as well worth a glass of grog as his.”“So they are, Swinburne, and better too, and I promise you a good stiff one to-morrow evening.”“That will do, sir: now then I’ll tell you all about it, and more about it too than most can, for I know how the action was brought about.”I hove the log, marked the board, and then sat down abaft on the signal chest with Swinburne, who commenced his narrative as follows:—“You must know, Mr Simple, that when the English fleet came down the Mediterranean, after the ’vackyation of Corsica, they did not muster more than seventeen sail of the line, while the Spanish fleet from Ferrol and Carthagena had joined company at Cadiz, and mounted to near thirty. Sir John Jervis had the command of our fleet at the time, but as the Dons did not seem at all inclined to come out and have a brush with us, almost two to one, Sir John left Sir W. Parker, with six sail of the line, to watch the Spanish beggars, while he went into Lisbon with the remainder of the fleet, to water and refit. Now, you see, Mr Simple, Portugal was at that time what they calls neutral, that is to say, she didn’t meddle at all in the affair, being friends with both parties, and just as willing to supply fresh beef and water to the Spaniards as to the English, if so be the Spaniards had come out to ax for it, which they dar’n’t. The Portuguese and the English have always been the best of friends, because we can’t get no port wine anywhere else, and they can’t get nobody else to buy it of them; so the Portuguese gave up their arsenal at Lisbon, for the use of the English, and there we kept all our stores, under the charge of that old dare-devil, Sir Isaac Coffin. Now it so happened, that one of the clerks in old Sir Isaac’s office, a Portuguese chap, had been some time before that in the office of the Spanish ambassador; he was a very smart sort of a chap, and sarved as interpreter, and the commissioner put great faith in him.”“But how did you learn all this, Swinburne?”“Why, I’ll tell you, Mr Simple; I steered the yawl, as coxswain, and when admirals and captains talk in the stern sheets, they very often forget that the coxswain is close behind them. I only learnt half of it that way, the rest I put together when I compared logs with the admiral’s steward, who, of course, heard a great deal now and then. The first I heard of it, was when old Sir John called out to Sir Isaac, after the second bottle, ‘I say, Sir Isaac, who killed the Spanish messenger?’ ‘Not I, by God!’ replied Sir Isaac, ‘I only left him for dead;’ and then they both laughed, and so did Nelson, who was sitting with them. Well, Mr Simple, it was reported to Sir Isaac that his clerk was often seen taking memorandums of the different orders given to the fleet, particularly those as to there being no wasteful expenditure of His Majesty’s stores. Upon which, Sir Isaac goes to the admiral, and requests that the man might be discharged. Now, old Sir John was a sly old fox, and he answered, ‘Not so, commissioner—perhaps we may catch them in their own trap.’ So the admiral sits down, and calls for pen and ink, and he flourishes out a long letter to the commissioner, stating that all the stores of the fleet were expended, representing as how it would be impossible to go to sea without a supply, and wishing to know when the commissioner expected more transports from England. He also said, that if the Spanish fleet were now to come out from Cadiz, it would be impossible for him to protect Sir W. Parker with his six sail of the line, who was watching the Spanish fleet, as he could not quit the port in his present condition. To this letter the commissioner answered, that from the last accounts, he thought that in the course of six weeks or two months, they might receive supplies from England, but that sooner than that was impossible. These letters were put in the way of the damned Portuguese spy clerk, who copied them, and was seen that evening to go into the house of the Spanish ambassador. Sir John then sent a message to Ferro—that’s a small town on the Portuguese coast to the southward—with a despatch to Sir William Parker, desiring him to run away to Cape St. Vincent, and decoy the Spanish fleet there, in case they should come out after him. Well, Mr Simple, so far d’ye see the train was well laid. The next thing to do was to watch the Spanish ambassador’s house, and see if he sent away any despatches. Two days after the letters had been taken to him by this rascal of a clerk, the Spanish ambassador sent away two messengers, one for Cadiz, and the other for Madrid, which is the town where the King of Spain lives. The one to Cadiz was permitted to go, but the one to Madrid was stopped by the directions of the admiral, and this job was confided to the commissioner, Sir Isaac, who settled it some how or another; and this was the reason why the admiral called out to him, ‘I say, Sir Isaac, who killed the messenger?’ They brought back his despatches, by which they found out that advice had been sent to the Spanish admiral—I forget his name, something like Magazine—informing him of the supposed crippled state of our squadron. Sir John, taking it for granted that the Spaniards would not lose an opportunity of taking six sail of the line—more English ships than they had ever taken in their lives—waited a few days to give them time, and then sailed from Lisbon for Cape St. Vincent, where he joined Sir W. Parker, and fell in with the Spaniards sure enough, and a pretty drubbing we gave them. Now, it’s not everybody that could tell you all that, Mr Simple.”“Well, but now for the action, Swinburne.”“Lord bless you, Mr Simple! it’s now past seven bells, and I can’t fight the battle of St. Vincent in half-an-hour; besides which, it’s well worth another glass of grog to hear all about that battle.”“Well, you shall have one, Swinburne; only don’t forget to tell it to, me.”Swinburne and I then separated, and in less than an hour afterwards I was dreaming of despatches—Sir John Jervis—Sir Isaac Coffin—and Spanish messengers.

We had not been more than a week under the Danish island of St. Thomas, when we discovered a brig close in-shore. We made all sail in chase, and soon came within a mile and a half of the shore, when she anchored under a battery, which opened its fire upon us. Their elevation was too great, and several shots passed over us and between our masts.

“I once met with a very remarkable circumstance,” observed Captain Kearney. “Three guns were fired at a frigate I was on board of, from a battery, all at the same time. The three shots cut away the three topsail ties, and down came all our topsail-yards upon the cap at the same time. That the Frenchmen might not suppose that they had taken such good aim, we turned up our hands to reef topsails; and by the time that the men were off the yards, the ties were spliced, and the topsails run up again.”

Mr Phillott could not stand this most enormous fib, and he replied, “Very odd, indeed, Captain Kearney: but I have known a stranger circumstance. We had put in the powder to the four guns on the main deck, when we were fighting the Danish gun-boats, in a frigate I was in; and as the men withdrew the rammer, a shot from the enemy entered the muzzle and completed the loading of each gun. We fired their own shot back upon them, and this occurred three times running.”

“Upon my word,” replied Captain Kearney, who had his glass upon the battery, “I think you must have dreamt that circumstance, Mr Phillott.”

“Not more than you did about the topsail ties, Captain Kearney.”

Captain Kearney at that time had the long glass in his hand, holding it up over his shoulder. A shot from the battery whizzed over his head, and took the glass out of his hand, shivering it to pieces. “That’s once,” said Captain Kearney, very coolly; “but will you pretend that that could ever happen three times running? They might take my head off, or my arm, next time, but not another glass; whereas the topsail ties might be cut by three different shot. But give me another glass, Mr Simple, I am certain that this vessel is a privateer. What think you, Mr O’Brien?”

“I am every bit of your opinion, Captain Kearney,” replied O’Brien; “and I think it would be a very pretty bit of practice to the ship’s company to take her out from under that footy battery.”

“Starboard the helm, Mr Phillott; keep away four points, and then we will think of it to-night.”

The frigate was now kept away, and ran out of the fire of the battery. It was then about an hour before sunset, and in the West Indies the sun does not set as it does in the northern latitudes. There is no twilight: he descends in glory, surrounded with clouds of gold and rubies in their gorgeous tints; and once below the horizon, all is dark.

As soon as it was dark, we hauled our wind off shore; and a consultation being held between the captain, Mr Phillott, and O’Brien, the captain at last decided that the attempt should be made. Indeed, although cutting out is a very serious affair, as you combat under every disadvantage, still the mischief done to our trade by the fast-sailing privateers was so great in the West Indies, that almost every sacrifice was warrantable for the interests of the country. Still Captain Kearney, although a brave and prudent officer—one who calculated chances, and who would not risk his men without he deemed that necessity imperiously demanded that such should be done—was averse to this attack, from his knowledge of the hay in which the brig was anchored; and although Mr Phillott and O’Brien both were of opinion that it should be a night attack, Captain Kearney decided otherwise. He considered that although the risk might be greater, yet the force employed would be more consolidated, and that those who would hold back in the night dare not do so during the day. Moreover, that the people on shore in the battery, as well as those in the privateer, would be on the alert all night, and not expecting an attack during the day, would be taken off their guard. It was therefore directed that everything should be in preparation during the night, and that the boats should shove off before daylight, and row in-shore, concealing themselves behind some rocks under the cliffs which formed the cape upon one side of the harbour; and, if not discovered, remain there till noon, at which time it was probable that the privateer’s men would be on shore, and the vessel might be captured without difficulty.

It is always a scene of much interest on board a man-of-war when preparations are made for an expedition of this description; and as the reader may not have been witness to them, it may perhaps be interesting to describe them. The boats of men-of-war have generally two crews; the common boats’ crew, which are selected so as not to take away the most useful men from the ship; and the service, or fighting boats’ crew, which are selected from the very best men on board. The coxswains of the boats are the most trustworthy men in the ship, and, on this occasion, have to see that their boats are properly equipped.

The launch, yawl, first and second cutters, were the boats appointed for the expedition. They all carried guns mounted upon slides, which ran fore and aft between the men. After the boats were hoisted out, the guns were lowered down into them and shipped in the bows of the boats. The arm-chests were next handed in, which contained the cartridges and ammunition. The shut were put into the bottom of the boats; and so far they were all ready. The oars of the boats were fitted to pull with grummets upon iron thole-pins, that they might make little noise, and might swing fore and aft without falling overboard, when the boats pulled alongside the privateer. A breaker or two (that is, small casks holding about seven gallons each) of water was put into each boat, and also the men’s allowance of spirits, in case they should be detained by any unforeseen circumstances. The men belonging to the boats were fully employed in looking after their arms; some fitting their flints to their pistols, others, and the major part of them, sharpening their cutlasses at the grindstone, or with a file borrowed from the armourer—all were busy and all merry. The very idea of going into action is a source of joy to an English sailor, and more jokes are made, more merriment excited, at that time than any other. Then, as it often happens, that one or two of the service boats’ crews may be on the sick-list, urgent solicitations are made by others that they may supply their places. The only parties who appear at all grave are those who are to remain in the frigate, and not share in the expedition. There is no occasion to order the boats to be manned, for the men are generally in long before they are piped away. Indeed, one would think that it was a party of pleasure instead of danger and of death upon which they were about to proceed.

Captain Kearney selected the officers who were to have the charge of the boats. He would not trust any of the midshipmen on so dangerous a service. He said, that he had known so many occasions in which their rashness and foolhardiness had spoilt an expedition; he therefore appointed Mr Phillott, the first lieutenant, to the launch; O’Brien to the yawl; the master to the first, and Mr Chucks, the boatswain, to the second cutter. Mr Chucks was much pleased with the idea of having the command of a boat, and asked me to come with him, to which I consented, although I had intended as usual, to have gone with O’Brien.

About an hour before daylight we ran the frigate to within a mile and a half of the shore, and the boats shoved off; the frigate then wore round, and stood out in the offing, that she might at daylight be at such a distance as not to excite any suspicion that our boats were sent away, while we in the boats pulled quietly in-shore. We were not a quarter of an hour before we arrived at the cape forming one side of the bay, and were well secreted among the cluster of rocks which was underneath. Our oars were laid in; the boats’ painters made fast; and orders given for the strictest silence. The rocks were very high, and the boats were not to be seen without any one should come to the edge of the precipice; and even then they would, in all probability, have been supposed to have been rocks. The water was as smooth as glass, and when it was broad daylight, the men hung listlessly over the sides of the boats, looking at the corals below, and watching the fish as they glided between.

“I can’t say, Mr Simple,” said Mr Chucks to me in an undertone “that I think well of this expedition; and I have an idea that some of us will lose the number of our mess. After a calm comes a storm; and how quiet is everything now! But I’ll take off my great coat, for the sun is hot already. Coxswain, give me my jacket.”

Mr Chucks, had put on his great coat, but not his jacket underneath, which he had left on one of the guns on the main deck, all ready to change as soon as the heavy dew had gone off. The coxswain handed him the jacket, and Mr Chucks threw off his great coat to put it on; but when it was opened, it proved, that by mistake he had taken away the jacket, surmounted by two small epaulets, belonging to Captain Kearney, which the captain’s steward, who had taken it out to brush, had also laid upon the same gun.

“By all the nobility of England!” cried Mr Chucks, “I have taken away the captain’s jacket by mistake. Here’s a pretty mess! if I put on my great coat I shall be dead with sweating; if I put on no jacket I shall be roasted brown; but if I put on the captain’s jacket I shall be considered disrespectful.”

The men in the boats tittered; and Mr Phillot, who was in the launch next to us, turned round to see what was the matter, O’Brien was sitting in the stern-sheets of the launch with the first lieutenant, and I leaned over and told them.

“By the powers! I don’t see why the captain’s jacket will be at all hurt by Mr Chucks putting it on,” replied O’Brien; “unless, indeed, a bullet were to go through it, and then it won’t be any fault of Mr Chucks.”

“No,” replied the first lieutenant; “and if one did, the captain might keep the jacket, and swear that the bullet went round his body without wounding him. He’ll have a good yarn to spin. So put it on, Mr Chucks; you’ll make a good mark for the enemy.”

“That I will stand the risk of with pleasure,” observed the boatswain to me, “for the sake of being considered a gentleman. So here’s on with it.”

There was a general laugh when Mr Chucks pulled on the captain’s jacket, and sank down in the stern-sheets of the cutter, with great complacency of countenance. One of the men in the boat that we were in thought proper, however, to continue his laugh a little longer than Mr Chucks considered necessary, who, leaning forward, thus addressed him: “I say, Mr Webber, I beg leave to observe to you, in the most delicate manner in the world—just to hint to you—that it is not the custom to laugh at your superior officer. I mean just to insinuate, that you are a damned impudent son of a sea cook; and if we both live and do well, I will prove to you, that if I am to be laughed at in a boat with the captain’s jacket on, that I am not to be laughed at on board the frigate with the boatswain’s rattan in my fist; and so look out, my hearty, for squalls, when you come on the forecastle; for I’ll be damned if I don’t make you see more stars than God Almighty ever made, and cut more capers than all the dancing masters in France. Mark my words, you burgoo-eating, pea-soup-swilling, trowsers-scrubbing son of a bitch!”

Mr Chucks, having at the end of this oration raised his voice above the pitch required by the exigency of the service, was called to order by the first lieutenant, and again sank back into the stern-sheets with all the importance and authoritative show peculiarly appertaining to a pair of epaulets.

We waited behind the rocks until noonday, without being discovered by the enemy, so well were we concealed. We had already sent an officer, who, carefully hiding himself by lying down on the rocks, had several times reconnoitred the enemy. Boats were passing and repassing continualhy from the privateer to the shore; and it appeared, that they went on shore full of men, and returned with only one or two; so that we were in great hopes that we should find but few men to defend the vessel. Mr Phillott looked at his watch, held it up to O’Brien, to prove that he had complied exactly with the orders he had received from the captain, and then gave the word to get the boats under weigh. The painters were cast off by the bowmen, the guns were loaded and primed, the men seized their oars, and in two minutes we were clear of the rocks, and drawn up in a line within a quarter of a mile from the harbour’s mouth, and not half a mile from the privateer brig. We rowed as quickly as possible, but we did not cheer until the enemy fired the first gun; which he did from a quarter unexpected, as we entered the mouth of the harbour, with our union jack trailing in the water over our stern for it was a dead calm. It appeared, that at the low point under the cliffs, at each side of the little bay, they had raised a water battery of two guns each. One of these guns, laden with grape shot, was now fired at the boats, but the elevation was too low, and although the water was ploughed up to within five yards of the launch, no injury was received. We were equally fortunate in the discharge of the other three guns; two of which we passed so quickly, that they were not aimed sufficiently forward, so that their shot fell astern; and the other, although the shot fell among us, did no further injury than cutting in half two of the oars of the first cutter.

In the meantime, we had observed that the boats had shoved off from the privateer as soon as they had perceived us, and had returned to her laden with men: the boats had been despatched a second time, but had not yet returned. They were now about the same distance from the privateer as were our boats, and it was quite undecided which of us would be first on board. O’Brien perceiving this, pointed out to Mr Phillott that we should first attack the boats, and afterwards board on the side to which they pulled; as, in all probability, there would be an opening left in the boarding nettings, which were tied up to the yard-arms, and presented a formidable obstacle to our success. Mr Phillott agreed with O’Brien: he ordered the bowmen to lay in their oars and keep the guns pointed ready to fire at the word given, and desiring the other men to pull their best. Every nerve, every muscle was brought into play by our anxious and intrepid seamen. When within about twenty yards of the vessel, and also of the boats, the orders were given to fire—the carronade of the launch poured out round and grape so well directed, that one of the French boats sank immediately; and the musket balls with which our other smaller guns were loaded, did great execution among their men. In one minute more, with three cheers from our sailors, we were all alongside together, English and French boats pellmell, and a most determined close conflict took place. The French fought desperately, and as they were overpowered, they were reinforced by those from the privateer, who could not look on and behold their companions requiring their assistance, without coming to their aid. Some jumped down into our boats from the chains, into the midst of our men; others darted cold shot at us, either to kill us or to sink our boats; and thus did one of the most desperate hand-to-hand conflicts take place that ever was witnessed.

But it was soon decided in our favour, for we were the stronger party and the better armed; and when all opposition was over, we jumped into the privateer, and found not a man left on board, only a large dog, who flew at O’Brien’s throat as he entered the port.

“Don’t kill him,” said O’Brien, as the sailors hastened to his assistance; “only take away his gripe.”

The sailors disengaged the dog, and O’Brien led him up to a gun, saying, “By Jasus, my boy, you are my prisoner.”

But although we had possession of the privateer, our difficulties, as it will prove, were by no means over. We were now exposed not only to the fire of the two batteries at the harbour-mouth which we had to pass, but also to that of the battery at the bottom of the bay, which had fired at the frigate. In the meantime, we were very busy in cutting the cable, lowering the topsails, and taking the wounded men on board the privateer, from out of the boats. All this was, however, but the work of a few minutes. Most of the Frenchmen were killed; our own wounded amounted to only nine seamen and Mr Chucks, the boatswain, who was shot through the body, apparently with little chance of surviving. As Mr Phillott observed, the captain’s epaulets had made him a mark for the enemy, and he had fallen in his borrowed plumes.

As soon as they were all on board, and laid on the deck—for there were, as near as I can recollect, about fourteen wounded Frenchmen as well as our own—two ropes were got out forwards, the boats were manned, and we proceeded to tow the brig out of the harbour. It was a dead calm, and we made but little way, but our boat’s crew, flushed with victory, cheered, and rallied, and pulled, with all their strength. The enemy, perceiving that the privateer was taken, and the French boats drifting empty up the harbour, now opened their fire upon us, and with great effect. Before we had towed abreast of the two water batteries, we had received three shots between wind and water, from the other batteries, and the sea was pouring fast into the vessel. I had been attending to poor Mr Chucks, who lay on the starboard side, near the wheel, the blood flowing from his wound, and tracing its course down the planks of the deck, to a distance of some feet from where he lay. He appeared very faint, and I tied my handkerchief round his body, so as to stop the effusion of blood, and brought him some water, with which I bathed his face, and poured some into his mouth. He opened his eyes wide, and looked at me.

“Ah, Mr Simple,” said he, faintly, “is it you? It’s all over with me but it could not be better—could it?”

“How do you mean?” inquired I.

“Why, have I not fallen dressed like an officer and a gentleman?” said he, referring to the captain’s jacket and epaulets. “I’d sooner die now, with this dress on, than to recover to put on the boatswain’s uniform. I feel quite happy.”

He pressed my hand, and then closed his eyes again, from weakness. We were now nearly abreast of the two batteries on the points, the guns of which had been trained so as to bear upon our boats that were towing out the brig. The first shot went through the bottom of the launch, and sank her; fortunately, all the men were saved; but as she was the boat that towed next to the brig, great delay occurred in getting the others clear of her, and taking the brig again in tow. The shot now poured in thick, and the grape became very annoying. Still our men gave way, cheering at every shot fired, and we had nearly passed the batteries, with trifling loss, when we perceived that the brig was so full of water, that she could not swim many minutes longer, and that it would be impossible to tow her alongside of the frigate. Mr Phillott, under these circumstances, decided that it would be useless to risk more lives, and that the wounded should be taken out of the brig, and the boats should pull away from the ship. He desired me to get the wounded men into the cutter which he sent alongside, and then to follow the other boats. I made all the haste I could, not wishing to be left behind; and as soon as all our wounded men were in the boats, I went to Mr Chucks, to remove him. He appeared somewhat revived, but would not allow us to remove him.

“My dear Mr Simple,” said he, “it is of no use; I can never recover it, and I prefer dying here. I entreat you not to move me. If the enemy take possession of the brig before she sinks, I shall be buried with military honours; if they do not, I shall at least die in the dress of a gentleman. Hasten away as fast as you can, before you lose more men. Here I stay—that’s decided.”

I expostulated with him, but at that time two boats full of men appeared, pulling out of the harbour to the brig. The enemy had perceived that our boats had deserted her, and were coming to take possession. I had therefore no time to urge Mr Chucks to change his resolution, and not wishing to force a dying man, I shook his hand and left him. It was with some difficulty I escaped, for the boats had come up close to the brig; they chased me a little while, but the yawl and the cutter turning back to my assistance, they gave up the pursuit. On the whole, this was a very well arranged and well conducted expedition. The only man lost was Mr Chucks, for the wounds of the others were none of them mortal. Captain Kearney was quite satisfied with our conduct, and so was the admiral, when it was reported to him. Captain Kearney did indeed grumble a little about his jacket, and sent for me to inquire why I had not taken it off Mr Chucks, and brought it on board. As I did not choose to tell him the exact truth, I replied that I could not disturb a dying man, and that the jacket was so saturated with blood, that he never could have worn it again,—which was the case.

“At all events, you might have brought away my epaulets,” replied he; “but you youngsters think of nothing but gormandising.”

I had the first watch that night, when Swinburne, the quarter master, came up to me, and asked me all the particulars of the affair, for he was not in the boats. “Well,” said he, “that Mr Chucks appeared to be a very good boatswain in his way, if he could only have kept his rattan a little quiet. He was a smart fellow, and knew his duty. We had just such another killed in our ship, in the action off Cape St. Vincent.”

“What! were you in that action?” replied I.

“Yes, I was, and belonged to theCaptain, Lord Nelson’s ship.”

“Well, then suppose you tell me all about it.”

“Why, Mr Simple, d’ye see, I’ve no objection to spin you a yarn now and then,” replied Swinburne; “but as Mr Chucks used to say, allow me to observe, in the most delicate manner in the world, that I perceive that the man who has charge of your hammock, and slings you a clean one now and then, has very often a good glass of grog for hisyarns, and I do not see but that mine are as well worth a glass of grog as his.”

“So they are, Swinburne, and better too, and I promise you a good stiff one to-morrow evening.”

“That will do, sir: now then I’ll tell you all about it, and more about it too than most can, for I know how the action was brought about.”

I hove the log, marked the board, and then sat down abaft on the signal chest with Swinburne, who commenced his narrative as follows:—

“You must know, Mr Simple, that when the English fleet came down the Mediterranean, after the ’vackyation of Corsica, they did not muster more than seventeen sail of the line, while the Spanish fleet from Ferrol and Carthagena had joined company at Cadiz, and mounted to near thirty. Sir John Jervis had the command of our fleet at the time, but as the Dons did not seem at all inclined to come out and have a brush with us, almost two to one, Sir John left Sir W. Parker, with six sail of the line, to watch the Spanish beggars, while he went into Lisbon with the remainder of the fleet, to water and refit. Now, you see, Mr Simple, Portugal was at that time what they calls neutral, that is to say, she didn’t meddle at all in the affair, being friends with both parties, and just as willing to supply fresh beef and water to the Spaniards as to the English, if so be the Spaniards had come out to ax for it, which they dar’n’t. The Portuguese and the English have always been the best of friends, because we can’t get no port wine anywhere else, and they can’t get nobody else to buy it of them; so the Portuguese gave up their arsenal at Lisbon, for the use of the English, and there we kept all our stores, under the charge of that old dare-devil, Sir Isaac Coffin. Now it so happened, that one of the clerks in old Sir Isaac’s office, a Portuguese chap, had been some time before that in the office of the Spanish ambassador; he was a very smart sort of a chap, and sarved as interpreter, and the commissioner put great faith in him.”

“But how did you learn all this, Swinburne?”

“Why, I’ll tell you, Mr Simple; I steered the yawl, as coxswain, and when admirals and captains talk in the stern sheets, they very often forget that the coxswain is close behind them. I only learnt half of it that way, the rest I put together when I compared logs with the admiral’s steward, who, of course, heard a great deal now and then. The first I heard of it, was when old Sir John called out to Sir Isaac, after the second bottle, ‘I say, Sir Isaac, who killed the Spanish messenger?’ ‘Not I, by God!’ replied Sir Isaac, ‘I only left him for dead;’ and then they both laughed, and so did Nelson, who was sitting with them. Well, Mr Simple, it was reported to Sir Isaac that his clerk was often seen taking memorandums of the different orders given to the fleet, particularly those as to there being no wasteful expenditure of His Majesty’s stores. Upon which, Sir Isaac goes to the admiral, and requests that the man might be discharged. Now, old Sir John was a sly old fox, and he answered, ‘Not so, commissioner—perhaps we may catch them in their own trap.’ So the admiral sits down, and calls for pen and ink, and he flourishes out a long letter to the commissioner, stating that all the stores of the fleet were expended, representing as how it would be impossible to go to sea without a supply, and wishing to know when the commissioner expected more transports from England. He also said, that if the Spanish fleet were now to come out from Cadiz, it would be impossible for him to protect Sir W. Parker with his six sail of the line, who was watching the Spanish fleet, as he could not quit the port in his present condition. To this letter the commissioner answered, that from the last accounts, he thought that in the course of six weeks or two months, they might receive supplies from England, but that sooner than that was impossible. These letters were put in the way of the damned Portuguese spy clerk, who copied them, and was seen that evening to go into the house of the Spanish ambassador. Sir John then sent a message to Ferro—that’s a small town on the Portuguese coast to the southward—with a despatch to Sir William Parker, desiring him to run away to Cape St. Vincent, and decoy the Spanish fleet there, in case they should come out after him. Well, Mr Simple, so far d’ye see the train was well laid. The next thing to do was to watch the Spanish ambassador’s house, and see if he sent away any despatches. Two days after the letters had been taken to him by this rascal of a clerk, the Spanish ambassador sent away two messengers, one for Cadiz, and the other for Madrid, which is the town where the King of Spain lives. The one to Cadiz was permitted to go, but the one to Madrid was stopped by the directions of the admiral, and this job was confided to the commissioner, Sir Isaac, who settled it some how or another; and this was the reason why the admiral called out to him, ‘I say, Sir Isaac, who killed the messenger?’ They brought back his despatches, by which they found out that advice had been sent to the Spanish admiral—I forget his name, something like Magazine—informing him of the supposed crippled state of our squadron. Sir John, taking it for granted that the Spaniards would not lose an opportunity of taking six sail of the line—more English ships than they had ever taken in their lives—waited a few days to give them time, and then sailed from Lisbon for Cape St. Vincent, where he joined Sir W. Parker, and fell in with the Spaniards sure enough, and a pretty drubbing we gave them. Now, it’s not everybody that could tell you all that, Mr Simple.”

“Well, but now for the action, Swinburne.”

“Lord bless you, Mr Simple! it’s now past seven bells, and I can’t fight the battle of St. Vincent in half-an-hour; besides which, it’s well worth another glass of grog to hear all about that battle.”

“Well, you shall have one, Swinburne; only don’t forget to tell it to, me.”

Swinburne and I then separated, and in less than an hour afterwards I was dreaming of despatches—Sir John Jervis—Sir Isaac Coffin—and Spanish messengers.

Back to IndexNext