CHAPTER III.
At last, the long-expected day of sailing arrived, and among the first of the men who came on board was Tom. He had received liberty to join our ship, and, men and boys, we mustered about sixty hands. The greater number, when they come on board, were ‘half-seas-over,’ and the ship was in great confusion.
Towards evening, it began to blow fresh, and I became miserably sick. No one took any notice of me, unless when I went to the weather-side of the vessel to vomit, when some one or other of my tender-hearted shipmates would give me a kick or a push, and, with an oath, bid me go to leeward.
In this state I was knocked about from one place to another, until at last I lay down in the waste of the vessel, on the lee-side, with my head opposite to one of the scuppers.[1]I had not been long there when some one came running to the side. I looked up to see who it was, and saw poor Tom in nearly as bad a plight as myself. I was too sick to speak to him, or I would have asked why he had omitted this in his description of the pleasures of a sea life.
I had not seen William from the time I became sick; but at that time I could feel interested for no one, or about any thing. I only wished I were on shore; and nothing should ever tempt me to put my foot on board of a vessel again.
Night came on, and the weather being cold, I began to wish that I could get below. I crawled to the first hatchway I could find, which happened to be the steerage. As this place was appropriated to the petty officers of the ship, and they being all employed on deck, I was allowed to get down unmolested. There were some of the cables coiled in the steerage; and as I had experienced the inconvenience of being in the way, I crept in as far as I could, beyond the cables, where some old sails were lying, and there, although notrelieved from sickness, I was at least free from annoyance.
I had not been long there, when the steerage mess came down to supper; and I quaked with terror when I heard the gunner say, ‘I wonder where all those boys are. I can’t get one of them to do either one thing or another.’
‘They’ll be stowed away in some hole or other, I’ll warrant ye,’ said the boatswain, ‘but if I had hold of them, I would let them feel the weight of a rope’s end.’
I strove to keep in my breath lest they should hear me, but at the moment my stomach heaved, and in spite of all my efforts to suppress it, I made such a noise that I was overheard.
‘Who the devil’s that?’ cried the boatswain; ‘some one of the rascals stowed away in the cable tier—hold the lantern, and I’ll haul him out whoever he is.’
Already I thought I felt the rope’s end on my shoulders, when I was unexpectedly relieved from my apprehensions, by the mate calling them on deck to arrange the watches for the night. While they were gone, I squeezed myself behind some boxes, where I was pretty sure they could not get at me. When they came down again, they had forgotten the circumstance; and those whose watch was below got into their hammocks.
A little before daylight, I felt inclined to go on deck, as I was nearly suffocated in my hiding-place, and slipping out cautiously, got up the ladder without disturbing any of them. I had felt pretty well settled, when my head was down; but whenever I got up, the sickness returned, and my stomach being completely empty, my efforts were more distressing. An old sailor who was standing near me advised me to take a drink of salt water. I thought it was a rough cure; I tried it, however, but it was no sooner down than up again.
‘Take another drink,’ said he; I did so—the same result followed. He advised me to take a third.
‘Oh, no,’ said I, ‘I can take no more.’
I then leaned over the lee bow of the vessel; and whether it was the fresh air or the salt water I know not, but I soon got better; and in the course of an hour or two I began to move about pretty briskly.
While I was stirring about, the carpenter came forward to me and inquired if I was sick. No, I said.
‘Will you have any objection to attend our mess?’
‘I don’t know, what have I to do?’
‘Only draw our provision, and boil our kettle morning and evening.’
‘Very well—I am willing.’
He took me down to the steerage, and showed me where things lay. When breakfast-time came I got their kettle boiled, and brought down their mess of bargoo, and sat down to take my breakfast with them; but before I had taken half-a-dozen spoonfuls, it began to discompose my stomach; and getting up to pass them for the deck, the motion of rising brought the contents of my stomach up to my mouth. I endeavoured to keep it down, but was obliged to give it vent, and it flew like water from a fire engine over the mess. The boatswain, who was a surly old fellow, and who had been the principal sufferer, rose up in a fury, and seizing the wooden dish that held the bargoo, threw it at my head. I escaped the blow of the dish, but the contents came right on my face and blinded me. I tried to grope my way up the ladder, but they did not give me time to get up, for they threw me out of the hatchway. When I got to my feet the whole of the seamen on deck gathered round, and began to jeer me on my appearance; but I managed to flounder on through them to the head, where I got some water and washed myself. Ah! thought I, this is hard usage; yet I could scarcely refrain from laughing at the idea of spoiling their mess.
I walked about the deck for some time, ruminating on my folly in exchanging my comfortable home for a place like this. Towards dinner-time, the carpentercame and asked me to prepare the mess-dishes for dinner, but I told him he might find some one else, for I would not do it.
‘The more fool you are,’ said he, ‘you will soon find yourself worse off.’
I was then obliged to shift my things into the forecastle amongst the crew. Here I found William lying in one of the berths, so sick that he could not lift his head. When he saw me he beckoned me to him. ‘O Joseph,’ said he, ‘this is misery. I wish we were at home again; but I will never live to return.’
‘No fear of that,’ I said, ‘I was as sick as you are, and I am now nearly well.’
At this moment the vessel gave a heave, and down I came on the deck. William began to make cascades, and I was soon as bad as ever, and got tumbled into the berth beside him. Shortly after, the seamen’s dinner was brought down, and having served themselves, one of them called out ‘You green-horns, in there, will you have some beef and biscuit?’
‘No, no,’ said I, ‘but if you will be kind enough to open my chest, you will find a cake of gingerbread in it—I will thank you to hand it to me.’
While he was searching for the gingerbread, he cast his eyes on a large case bottle, filled with whisky, which Mr C. had given me when I parted with him. He immediately gave up his search for the gingerbread, and hauling out the bottle and holding it up, he cried, ‘D——n my eyes, messmates, if I ha’n’t found a prize.’
‘Here with it,’ cried a dozen voices at once, and in spite of my remonstrances, they deliberately handed it round until there was not above a glass left.
‘Oh shame,’ said one of them, ‘give the boy a drop of his own grog;’ but I could not look at it—the smell was sickening.
‘No, no,’ said I, ‘send that after the rest.’
‘Right,’ said one of them, ‘boys have no use for grog.’
‘Will you give me the gingerbread now?’ said I.
‘Oh, by the by, I had forgot that, here it is for you, my hearty.’
The most of them went on deck, and left William and I to reflect on the justice of their appropriation of my property. However, the liquor was a thing I cared little about, and it gave me the less uneasiness. We were now allowed to lie quietly enough until night, when those whose watch was below came down to go to bed—one of them came to the berth, where William and I were lying, and seizing him by the neck, cried out, ‘Hollo, who the devil’s this in my berth?’
‘It is two of the Johnnie-raws that are sick,’ replied one of them.
‘Johnnie-raw or Johnnie-roasted, they must get out of that, for I want to turn in.’
Out we were bundled, and during the whole course of that night we were knocked about from one place to another, by each succeeding watch.
Next morning early, the word was passed for the boys to go aft to the quarter-deck. It was hard rooting them out; but at last we were mustered—six in all. When we were assembled, the mate addressing us, said, ‘I think I have given you long enough time to recover from your sickness. You, Tom, have no right to be sick. You were at sea before.’ I looked at Tom: there was not a more miserable-looking object amongst us. I could scarcely allow myself to believe that he was the same being whom we saw swaggering on the streets of Greenock a few days before. We were then appointed to different watches. William and I were luckily appointed to the same one, which being on duty at the time, we were ordered to scrub the hen coops, and feed the fowls, while the men washed the deck. The boys were always made the drudges in every thing dirty and disagreeable. But the duty of the ship was little in comparison to the way in which we were teased and ill used by the sailors. I have often been roused up after a fatiguing watch, and just when I had fallen into a profound sleep, to go and fetch a drink of water for some of the crew. A fellow, of the name ofDonald M’Millan, was one of our chief tormentors. He used to invent new mortifications for us; and he was of so brutal and savage a disposition, that he would beat and abuse the boys for the most trifling fault, and often without cause. I am sure, if the conduct of the men had been reported to the captain, he would not have allowed the boys to be used in the manner they were. But we were afraid to say any thing concerning our usage, knowing that they could find numberless methods of tormenting without openly beating us.
I began, however, to get used to the sea; and taking courage, I strove to get through as well as I could. It was, nevertheless, with a great effort that I could prevent my spirits from sinking under the many hardships and contumely I had to endure. Nothing but the hope of leaving the vessel when she returned home kept me alive. Poor William lost all heart; he became melancholy and moping, and used to cry for hours together, when we were on watch at night. In this state he was ill calculated for the duty he had to perform, and was brow-beaten by almost every one in the ship. This sunk his naturally buoyant spirits; and at length he became so accustomed to ill usage, that he seemed afraid I would also turn against him. I, however, had known him in happier days; but his feelings were morbidly acute, and little calculated to struggle through the ill usage which a ship apprentice had to endure.
As we proceeded on our voyage, the weather became delightful; and getting into the trade winds, we got on so pleasantly, often for days together, without changing a sail, that had we not been tormented by the seamen, we would have been comparatively comfortable. But the only happy periods I enjoyed were, when my turn came to look out aloft—seated on the cross-trees, away from the din of the deck, with the clear blue sky above, and the sea extending far as the eye could reach beneath. It was there I almost realised some of the fairy scenes I had pictured in my imagination. I felt myself in an enchanted world ofmy own, and would sit watching the clouds as they passed along, comparing their shape to some romantic image in my mind, and peopling them with corresponding inhabitants. So lost was I in those reveries that I did not feel the time passing; and when the man came up to relieve me, I have often volunteered to stop his two hours also. When I came down on deck, I felt as it were cast from heaven to earth, and used to long for my turn to look out again. These were the only pleasures I enjoyed unmolested and unenvied; for few of my comrades required any pressing to allow me to remain in their place. The nights were now delightful; the moon shone in ‘cloudless majesty,’ and the air was so cool and pleasant, that it was preferred by the seamen to the day: instead of going below, they often gathered in knots on the deck, and played at various games, or told stories. Many of them were good at this. One of them, a Swede, had as large a collection as any person I ever knew; they were those of his country—mostly terrific—ghosts and men possessed of supernatural powers, were the heroes of his stories.[2]The flying Dutchman, and many othernaval apparitions, were talked of and descanted on with much gravity. Sailors, in general, are very superstitious, and these stories were listened to with the greatest attention.
One night the weather was hazy, when I was appointed to look out a-head along with an old sailor, who was remarkable for being an attentive listener when any stories were telling. The moon was up; but a dense curtain of clouds hid her almost completely from our view. The wind came in gusts, and swept the clouds along in irregular masses. Sometimes a doubtful light would be thrown around us; again a dark cloud would intervene, and we could scarcely see the end of the jib-boom. The wind whistled through the rigging of the vessel occasionally with a low murmuring sound; then it would rise gradually to such a fury, that we could scarcely hear each other talk. We were anxiously looking out, when he asked me if I did not see something like a sail a-head. I replied that I did not. He pointed to the place where he imagined he saw it. I looked again. A partial gleam of light, occasioned by a cloud of lighter texture passing over the moon, being thrown on the place, I really thought I saw something like a sail. He did not wait for any more investigation, but gave the alarm. The mate came forward to see it; but the light was so uncertain, that he could not decide on what it was. The watch gathered about the bows of the vessel, every one having something to say on the subject. One pretended he saw a sail plainly—she was a square-rigged vessel, with all her sails set; another said she was schooner rigged. Ominous whispers now began togo round, intimating that her appearance was anything but natural. The mate, hearing some hints that were dropped, said, ‘There was a cursed deal too much of that ghost story-telling of late; and he would lay his head to a marlin-spike, that this would turn out to be no sail after all.’ At this moment (luckily for his prediction) the moon broke through in all her splendour; and as far as the eye could reach, not a speck on the surface of the dark blue waters could be traced. The laugh was now turned against those who had pretended to see the sail; but they only shook their heads doubtfully, and wished that nothing bad might follow. I venture to say that every one on board joined in that wish.
FOOTNOTES:[1]Scuppers, the holes by which the water runs off the deck.[2]One of the stories he narrated was of a seaman with whom his father had sailed. He was a wonderful fellow: he could arrest a ship in full sail. When he wanted liquor, he had nothing to do but bore a hole in the mast, and out flowed rum, brandy, or any liquor he wished for. He once had committed some crime, for which he was sentenced to be flogged; the crew were assembled, and the culprit stripped and tied up; the boatswain raised his brawny arm to give the lash, but by some invisible power his arm was arrested in the air, and he stood with it stretched out, unable to bring it down. The master-at-arms raised his cane to strike the boatswain for his seeming neglect of duty, and his arm was arrested in like manner. The captain, enraged to see both boatswain and master-at-arms in the strange position, drew his sword, and raised it, to let it fall on some of their heads, when he shared the same fate. Thus all three stood with their arms upraised in air; nor would our hero release them from their awkward position, until he was pardoned and taken down. Some time after, he committed another crime; but they were afraid his power was too potent on board for them to proceed against him there: therefore he was conveyed ashore, and tried. In addition to the alleged crime, they brought forward a charge of dealing with the devil. The proof was reckoned conclusive, and he was sentenced to suffer death. He gave himself no uneasiness about it. The day arrived on which he was to be executed; and the guard entered his prison for the purpose of conveying him to the place of execution. When they entered, he was busily drawing a ship upon the wall with chalk; he requested them to wait a moment until he would finish it. They did so. When he had done, he bade those about him adieu; and lifting his foot, as if it were to step into his mimic ship, he disappeared from their eyes in a moment, and was never heard of after.
[1]Scuppers, the holes by which the water runs off the deck.
[1]Scuppers, the holes by which the water runs off the deck.
[2]One of the stories he narrated was of a seaman with whom his father had sailed. He was a wonderful fellow: he could arrest a ship in full sail. When he wanted liquor, he had nothing to do but bore a hole in the mast, and out flowed rum, brandy, or any liquor he wished for. He once had committed some crime, for which he was sentenced to be flogged; the crew were assembled, and the culprit stripped and tied up; the boatswain raised his brawny arm to give the lash, but by some invisible power his arm was arrested in the air, and he stood with it stretched out, unable to bring it down. The master-at-arms raised his cane to strike the boatswain for his seeming neglect of duty, and his arm was arrested in like manner. The captain, enraged to see both boatswain and master-at-arms in the strange position, drew his sword, and raised it, to let it fall on some of their heads, when he shared the same fate. Thus all three stood with their arms upraised in air; nor would our hero release them from their awkward position, until he was pardoned and taken down. Some time after, he committed another crime; but they were afraid his power was too potent on board for them to proceed against him there: therefore he was conveyed ashore, and tried. In addition to the alleged crime, they brought forward a charge of dealing with the devil. The proof was reckoned conclusive, and he was sentenced to suffer death. He gave himself no uneasiness about it. The day arrived on which he was to be executed; and the guard entered his prison for the purpose of conveying him to the place of execution. When they entered, he was busily drawing a ship upon the wall with chalk; he requested them to wait a moment until he would finish it. They did so. When he had done, he bade those about him adieu; and lifting his foot, as if it were to step into his mimic ship, he disappeared from their eyes in a moment, and was never heard of after.
[2]One of the stories he narrated was of a seaman with whom his father had sailed. He was a wonderful fellow: he could arrest a ship in full sail. When he wanted liquor, he had nothing to do but bore a hole in the mast, and out flowed rum, brandy, or any liquor he wished for. He once had committed some crime, for which he was sentenced to be flogged; the crew were assembled, and the culprit stripped and tied up; the boatswain raised his brawny arm to give the lash, but by some invisible power his arm was arrested in the air, and he stood with it stretched out, unable to bring it down. The master-at-arms raised his cane to strike the boatswain for his seeming neglect of duty, and his arm was arrested in like manner. The captain, enraged to see both boatswain and master-at-arms in the strange position, drew his sword, and raised it, to let it fall on some of their heads, when he shared the same fate. Thus all three stood with their arms upraised in air; nor would our hero release them from their awkward position, until he was pardoned and taken down. Some time after, he committed another crime; but they were afraid his power was too potent on board for them to proceed against him there: therefore he was conveyed ashore, and tried. In addition to the alleged crime, they brought forward a charge of dealing with the devil. The proof was reckoned conclusive, and he was sentenced to suffer death. He gave himself no uneasiness about it. The day arrived on which he was to be executed; and the guard entered his prison for the purpose of conveying him to the place of execution. When they entered, he was busily drawing a ship upon the wall with chalk; he requested them to wait a moment until he would finish it. They did so. When he had done, he bade those about him adieu; and lifting his foot, as if it were to step into his mimic ship, he disappeared from their eyes in a moment, and was never heard of after.