Фредерик Марриет
Peter Simple
Chapter Eleven
O’Brien takes me under his protection—The ship’s company are paid, so are the bumboat-women, the Jews, and the emancipationist after a fashion—We go to sea—“Doctor” O’Brien’s cure for sea-sickness—One pill of the doctor’s more than a dose
When we arrived, I reported myself to the first lieutenant, and told him the whole story of the manner in which I had been treated, showing him the poker which I brought on board with me. He heard me very patiently, and then said, “Mr Simple, you maybe the greatest fool of your family for all I know to the contrary, but never pretend to be a fool with me. That poker proves the contrary; and if your wit can serve you upon your own emergency, I expect that it will be employed for the benefit of the service.” He then sent for O’Brien, and gave him a lecture for allowing me to go with the press-gang, pointing out, what was very true, that I could have been of no service, and might have met with a serious accident.
At last the frigate was full manned; and, as we had received drafts of men from other ships, we were ordered to be paid previously to our going to sea. The people on shore always find out when a ship is to be paid, and very early in the morning we were surrounded with wherries, laden with Jews and other people, some requesting admittance to sell their goods, others to get paid for what they had allowed the sailors to take up upon credit. But the first lieutenant would not allow any of them to come on board until after the ship was paid; although they were so urgent, that he was forced to place sentries in the chains with cold shot, to stave the boats if they came alongside. About eleven o’clock the dock-yard boat, with all the pay clerks and the cashier, with his chest of money, came on board, and was shown into the fore-cabin, where the captain attended the pay-table. The men were called in, one by one, and as the amount and wages due had been previously calculated, they were paid very fast. The money was always received in their hats, after it had been counted out in the presence of the officers and captain. Outside the cabin door, there stood a tall man in black, with hair straight combed, who had obtained an order from the port-admiral to be permitted to come on board. He attacked every sailor as he came out, with his money in his hat, for a subscription to emancipate the slaves in the West Indies; but the sailors would not give him anything, swearing that the niggers were better off than they were; for they did not work harder by day, and had no watch and watch to keep during the night. “Sarvitude is sarvitude all over the world, my old psalm-singer,” replied one. “They sarve their masters, as in duty bound; we sarve the King, ’cause he can’t do without us—and he never axes our leave, but helps himself.”
Then the purser’s steward came out; he was what they call a bit of a lawyer, that is, had received more education than the seamen in general.
“I trust, sir,” said the man in black, “that you will contribute something.”
“Not I, my hearty; I owe every farthing of my money, and more too, I’m afraid.”
“Still, sir, a small trifle.”
“Why, what an infernal rascal you must be, to ask a man to give away what is not his own property! Did I not tell you that I owed it all? There’s an old proverb—Be just before you’re generous. Now, it’s my opinion, that you are a methodistical, good-for-nothing blackguard; and if any one is such a fool as to give you money, you will keep it for yourself.”
When the man found that he could obtain nothing at the door, he went down on the lower deck, and commenced distributing prints of a black man kneeling in chains and saying, “Am not I your brother?” Some of the men laughed, and swore that they would paste their brother up in the mess to say prayers for the ship’s company; but others were very angry, and abused him. At last, one man, who was tipsy, came up to him. “Do you pretend for to insinivate that this crying black thief is my brother?”
“To be sure I do,” replied the methodist.
“Then take that for your infernal lie,” said the sailor, hitting him in the face right and left, and knocking the man down into the cable tier, from whence he climbed up, and made his escape out of the frigate as soon as he was able.
The ship was now in a state of confusion and uproar; there were Jews trying to sell clothes, or to obtain money for clothes which they had sold; bumboat men and bumboat women showing their long bills, and demanding or coaxing for payment; other people from the shore, with hundreds of small debts; and the sailors’ wives, sticking close to them, and disputing every bill presented, as an extortion or a robbery. There were such bawling and threatening, laughing and crying—for the women were all to quit the ship before sunset—at one moment a Jew was upset, and all his hamper of clothes tossed into the hold; at another, a sailor was seen hunting everywhere for a Jew who had cheated him—all squabbling or skylarking, and many of them very drunk. It appeared to me that the sailors had rather a difficult point to settle. They had three claimants upon them, the Jew for clothes, the bumboat men for their mess in harbour, and their wives for their support during their absence; and the money which they received was, generally speaking, not more than sufficient to meet one of the demands. As it may be supposed, the women had the best of it; the others were paid a trifle, and promised the remainder when they came back from their cruise. About five o’clock, the orders were given for the ship to be cleared. All disputed points were settled by the sergeant of marines with a party, who divided their antagonists from the Jews; and every description of persons not belonging to the ship, whether male or female, was dismissed over the side. The hammocks were piped down, those who were intoxicated were put to bed, and the ship was once more quiet.
The next day everything was prepared for sea, and no leave was permitted to the officers. Stock of every kind was brought on board, and the large boats hoisted and secured. On the morning after, at day-light, a signal from the flag-ship in harbour was made for us to unmoor; our orders had come down to cruise in the Bay of Biscay. The captain came on board, the anchor weighed, and we ran through the Needles with a fine NE breeze. What occurred for the next six days I cannot tell. I thought that I should die every moment, and lay in my hammock or on the chests for the whole of that time, incapable of eating, drinking, or walking about. O’Brien came to me on the seventh morning, and said, that if I did not exert myself I never should get well, that he was very fond of me, and had taken me under his protection, and to prove his regard, he would do for me what he would not take the trouble to do for any other youngster in the ship, which was, to give me a good basting, which was a sovereign remedy for sea-sickness. He suited the action to the word, and drubbed me on the ribs without mercy, until I thought the breath was out of my body, and then he took out a rope’s end and thrashed me until I obeyed his orders to go on deck immediately. Before he came to me, I could never have believed it possible that I could have obeyed him; but somehow or another I did contrive to crawl up the ladder to the main-deck, where I sat down on the shot-racks and cried bitterly. But, by degrees, I recovered myself, and certainly felt a great deal better, and that night I slept very soundly. The next morning O’Brien came to me again. “It’s a nasty slow fever, that sea-sickness, my Peter, and we must drive it out of you;” and then he commenced a repetition of yesterday’s remedy until I was almost a jelly. Whether the fear of being thrashed drove away my sea-sickness, or whatever might be the real cause of it, I do not know, but this is certain, that I felt no more of it after the second beating, and the next morning, when I awoke, I was very hungry. I hastened to dress myself before O’Brien came to me, and did not see him until we met at breakfast.
“Pater,” said he, “let me feel your pulse.”
“O no!” replied I, “indeed I’m quite well.”
“Quite well! Can you eat biscuit and salt butter?”
“Yes, I can.”
“And a piece of fat pork?”
“Yes, that I can.”
“It’s thanks to me then, Pater,” replied he, “so you’ll have no more of my medicine until you fall sick again.”
“I hope not,” replied I, “for it was not very pleasant.”
“Pleasant! you simple Simon, when did you ever hear of physic being pleasant, unless a man prescribe for himself? I suppose you’d be after lollipops for the yellow fever. Live and larn, boy, and thank Heaven that you’ve found somebody who loves you well enough to baste you when it’s good for your health.”
I held my tongue and ate a very hearty breakfast. From that day I returned to my duty, and was put into the same watch with O’Brien, who spoke to the first lieutenant, and told him that he had taken me under his charge.
Chapter Twelve
New theory of Mr Muddle remarkable for having no end to it—Novel practice of Mr Chucks—O’Brien commences his history—I bring up the master’s night-glass
As I have already mentioned sufficient of the captain and the first lieutenant to enable the reader to gain an insight into their characters, I shall now mention two very odd personages who were my shipmates, the carpenter and the boatswain. The carpenter, whose name was Muddle, used to go by the appellation of Philosopher Chips; not that he followed any particular school, but had formed a theory of his own, from which he was not to be dissuaded. This was, that the universe had its cycle of events which turned round, so that in a certain period of time everything was to happen over again. I never could make him explain upon what data his calculations were founded; he said, that if he explained it, I was too young to comprehend it; but the fact was this, that “in 27,672 years everything that was going on now would be going on again, with the same people as were existing at this present time.” He very seldom ventured to make the remark to Captain Savage, but to the first lieutenant he did very often. “I’ve been as close to it as possible, sir, I do assure you, although you find fault; but 27,672 years ago you were first lieutenant of this ship, and I was carpenter, although we recollect nothing about it; and 27,672 years hence we shall both be standing by this boat, talking about the repairs, as we are now.”
“I do not doubt it, Mr Muddle,” replied the first lieutenant; “I dare say that it is all very true, but the repairs must be finished this night, and 27,672 years hence you will have the order just as positive as you have it now, so let it be done.”
But the boatswain was a more amusing personage. He was considered to be the taughtest (that is, the most active and severe) boatswain in the service. He went by the name of “Gentleman Chucks”—the latter was his surname. He appeared to have received half an education; sometimes his language was for a few sentences remarkably well chosen, but, all of a sudden, he would break down at a hard word; but I shall be able to let the reader into more of his history as I go on with my adventures. He had a very handsome person, inclined to be stout, keen eyes, and hair curling in ringlets. He held his head up, and strutted as he walked. He declared that “an officer should look like an officer, and comport himself accordingly.” In his person he was very clean, wore rings on his great fingers, and a large frill to his bosom, which stuck out like the back fin of a perch, and the collar of his shirt was always pulled up to a level with his cheek bones. He never appeared on deck without his “persuader,” which was three rattans twisted into one, like a cable; sometimes he called it his Order of the Bath, or his Trio juncto in uno; and this persuader was seldom idle. He attempted to be very polite, even when addressing the common seamen, and, certainly, he always commenced his observations to them in a very gracious manner, but, as he continued, he became less choice in his phraseology. As a specimen of them, he would say to the man on the forecastle, “Allow me to observe, my dear man, in the most delicate way in the world, that you are spilling that tar upon the deck—a deck, sir, if I may venture to make the observation, I had the duty of seeing holystoned this morning. You understand me, sir, you have defiled His Majesty’s forecastle. I must do my duty, sir, if you neglect yours; so take that—and that—and that,”—(thrashing the man with his rattan)—“you damned haymaking son of a seacook. Do it again, damn your eyes, and I’ll cut your liver out.”
The master was the officer who had charge of the watch to which I was stationed; he was a very rough sailor, who had been brought up in the merchant service, not much of a gentleman in his appearance, very good-tempered, and very fond of grog. He always quarrelled with the boatswain, and declared that the service was going to the devil, now that warrant officers put on white shirts, and wore frills to them. But the boatswain did not care for him; he knew his duty, he did his duty, and if the captain was satisfied, he said that the whole ship’s company might grumble. The master was very kind to me, and used to send me down to my hammock before my watch was half over. Until that time, I walked the deck with O’Brien, who was a very pleasant companion, and taught me everything that he could, connected with my profession. One night, when he had the middle watch, I told him I should like very much if he would give me the history of his life. “That I will, my honey,” replied he, “all that I can remember of it, though I have no doubt but that I’ve forgotten the best part of it. It’s now within five minutes of two bells, so we’ll heave the log and mark the board, and then I’ll spin you a yarn, which will keep us both from going to sleep.” O’Brien reported the rate of sailing to the master, marked it down on the log-board, and then returned.
“So now, my boy, I’ll come to an anchor on the top-sail halyard rack, and you may squeeze your thread-paper little carcass under my lee, and then I’ll tell you all about it. First and foremost, you must know that I am descended from the great O’Brien Borru, who was a king in his time, but that time’s past. I suppose, as the world turns round, my children’s children’s posterity may be kings again, although there seems but little chance of it just now; but there’s ups and downs on a grand scale, as well as in a man’s own history, and the wheel of fortune keeps turning for the comfort of those who are at the lowest spoke, as I may be just now. To cut the story a little shorter, I skip down to my great-grandfather, who lived like a real gentleman, as he was, upon his ten thousand a year. At last he died, and eight thousand of the ten was buried with him. My grandfather followed his father all in good course of time, and only left my father about one hundred acres of bog to keep up the dignity of the family. I am the youngest of ten, and devil a copper have I but my pay, or am I likely to have. You may talk about descent, but a more descending family than mine was never in existence, for here am I with twenty-five pounds a-year, and a half-pay of ‘nothing a-day, and find myself,’ when my great ancestor did just what he pleased with all Ireland, and everybody in it. Father McGrath, the priest, who lived with my father, taught me the elements, as they call them. I thought I had enough of the elements then, but I’ve seen a deal more of them since. ‘Terence,’ says my father to me one day, ‘what do you mane to do?’ ‘To get my dinner, sure,’ replied I, for I was not a little hungry. ‘And so you shall to-day, my vourneen,’ replied my father, ‘but in future you must do something to get your own dinner; there’s not praties enow for the whole of ye. Will you go to the say?’ ‘I’ll just step down and look at it,’ says I, for we lived but sixteen Irish miles from the coast; so when I had finished my meal, which did not take long, for want of ammunition, I trotted down to the Cove to see what a ship might be like, and I happened upon a large one sure enough, for there lay a three-decker with an admiral’s flag at the fore. ‘Maybe you’ll be so civil as to tell me what ship that is,’ said I to a sailor on the pier. ‘It’s the Queen Charlotte,’ replied he, ‘of one hundred and twenty guns.’ Now when I looked at her size, and compared her with all the little smacks and hoys lying about her, I very naturally asked how old she was; he replied, that she was no more than three years old. ‘But three years old,’ thought I to myself; ‘it’s a fine vessel you’ll be when you’ll come of age, if you grow at that rate: you’ll be as tall as the top of Bencrow,’ (that’s a mountain we have in our parts). I went back to my father, and told him all I had seen, and he replied, that if I liked it, I might be a midshipman on board of her, with nine hundred men under my command. He forgot to say how many I should have over me, but I found that out afterwards. I agreed, and my father ordered his pony and went to the lord lieutenant, for he had interest enough for that. The lord lieutenant spoke to the admiral, who was staying at the palace, and I was ordered on board as midshipman. My father fitted me out pretty handsomely, telling all the tradesmen that their bills should be paid with my first prize-money, and thus, by promises and blarney, he got credit for all I wanted. At last all was ready: Father McGrath gave me his blessing, and told me that if I died like an O’Brien, he would say a power of masses for the good of my soul. So, after a deal of bother, I was fairly on board, and I parted company with my chest, for I stayed on deck, and that went down below. I stared about with all my eyes for some time, when who should be coming off but the captain, and the officers were ordered on deck to receive him. I wanted to have a quiet survey of him, so I took up my station on one of the guns, that I might examine him at my leisure. The boatswain whistled, the marines presented arms, and the officers all took off their hats as the captain came on the deck, and then the guard was dismissed, and they all walked about the deck as before; but I found it very pleasant to be astride on the gun, so I remained where I was. ‘What do you mane by that, you big young scoundrel?’ says he, when he saw me. ‘It’s nothing at all I mane,’ replied I; ‘but what do you mane by calling an O’Brien a scoundrel?’ ‘Who is he?’ said the captain to the first lieutenant. ‘Mr O’Brien, who joined the ship about an hour since.’ ‘Don’t you know better than to sit upon a gun?’ said the captain. ‘To be sure I do,’ replied I, ‘when there’s anything better to sit upon.’ ‘He knows no better, sir,’ observed the first lieutenant. ‘Then he must be taught,’ replied the captain. ‘Mr O’Brien, since you have perched yourself on that gun to please yourself, you will now continue there for two hours to please me. Do you understand, sir? you’ll ride on that gun for two hours.’ ‘I understand, sir,’ replied I; ‘but I am afraid that he won’t move without spurs, although there’s plenty of metal in him.’ The captain turned away and laughed as he went into his cabin, and all the officers laughed, and I laughed too, for I perceived no great hardship in sitting down an hour or two, any more than I do now. Well, I soon found that, like a young bear, all my troubles were to come.
“I got into a scrape just before we left harbour. It was my watch when they piped to dinner, and I took the liberty to run below, as my messmates had a knack of forgetting absent friends. Well, the captain came on board, and there were no side boys, no side ropes, and no officers to receive him, he came on deck foaming with rage, for his dignity was hurt, and he inquired who was the midshipman of the watch. ‘Mr O’Brien,’ said they all. ‘Devil a bit,’ replied I, ‘it was my forenoon watch.’ ‘Who relieved you, sir?’ said the first lieutenant. ‘Devil a soul, sir,’ replied I; ‘for they were all too busy with their pork and beef.’ ‘Then why did you leave the deck without relief?’ ‘Because, sir, my stomach would have had but little relief if I had remained.’ The captain, who stood by, said, ‘Do you see those cross-trees, sir?’ ‘Is it those little bits of wood that you mane, on the top there, captain?’ ‘Yes, sir; now just go up there and stay until I call you down: You must be brought up to your senses, young man, or you’ll have but little prospect in the service.’ ‘I’ve an idea that I’ll have plenty of prospect when I get up there,’ replied I, ‘but it’s all to please you.’ So up I went, as I have many a time since, and as you often will, Peter, just to enjoy the fresh air and your own pleasant thoughts, all at one and the same time.
“The first time that I put my foot on shore was at Minorca. Several of us went on shore, and having dined upon a roast turkey, stuffed with plum-pudding, and having drunk as much wine as would float a jolly-boat, we ordered donkeys, to take a little equestrian exercise. Some went off tail on end, some with their hind-quarters uppermost, and then the riders went off instead of the donkeys; some wouldn’t go off at all; as for mine he would go—and where the devil do you think he went? Why, into the church, where all the people were at mass; the poor brute was dying with thirst, and smelt water. As soon as he was in, notwithstanding all my tugging and hauling, he ran his nose into the holy-water font, and drank it all up. They rose up from their knees and seized me, calling upon all the saints in the calendar. Although I knew what they meant, not a word of their lingo could I speak, to plead for my life, and I was almost torn to pieces before the priest came up. Perceiving the danger I was in, I wiped my finger across the wet nose of the donkey, crossed myself, and then went down on my knees to the priests, crying out Culpa mea, as all good Catholics do—though ’twas no fault of mine, as I said before, for I tried all I could, and tugged at the brute till my strength was gone. The priests perceived by the manner in which I crossed myself that I was a good Catholic, and guessed that it was all a mistake of the donkey’s. They ordered the crowd to be quiet, and sent for an interpreter, when I explained the whole story. They gave me absolution for what the donkey had done, and after that, as it was very rare to meet an English officer who was a good Christian, I was in great favour during my stay at Minorca, and was living in plenty, paying for nothing, and as happy as a cricket. So the jackass proved a very good friend, and, to reward him, I hired him every day, and galloped him all over the island. But, at last, it occurred to me that I had broken my leave, for I was so happy on shore that I quite forgot that I had only permission for twenty-four hours, and I should not have remembered it so soon, had it not been for a party of marines, headed by a sergeant, who took me by the collar, and dragged me off my donkey. I was taken on board, and put under an arrest for my misconduct.”
“Sail on the starboard-bow!” cried the look-out man.
“Very well,” replied the master; “Mr O’Brien,—where’s Mr O’Brien?”
“Is it me you mane, sir?” said O’Brien, walking up to the master, for he had sat down so long in the topsail-halyard rack, that he was wedged in, and could not get out immediately.
“Yes, sir; go forward, and see what that vessel is.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” said O’Brien. “And, Mr Simple,” continued the master, “go down and bring me up my night-glass.”
“Yes, sir,” replied I. I had no idea of a night-glass; and as I observed that about this time his servant brought him up a glass of grog, I thought it very lucky that I knew what he meant.
“Take care that you don’t break it, Mr Simple.”
“O then, I’m all right,” thought I; “he means the tumbler:” so down I went, called up the gunroom steward, and desired him to give me a glass of grog for Mr Doball. The steward tumbled out in his shirt, mixed the grog, and gave it to me, and I carried it up very carefully to the quarter-deck.
During my absence, the master had called the captain, and in pursuance of his orders, O’Brien had called the first lieutenant, and when I came up the ladder, they were both on deck. As I was ascending I heard the master say, “I have sent young Simple down for my night-glass, but he is so long, that I suppose he has made some mistake. He’s but half a fool.”
“That I deny,” replied Mr Falcon, the first lieutenant, just as I put my foot on the quarter-deck; “he’s no fool.”
“Perhaps not,” replied the master. “O, here he is. What made you so long, Mr Simple—where is my night-glass?”
“Here it is, sir,” replied I, handing him the tumbler of grog; “I told the steward to make it stiff.” The captain and the first lieutenant burst out into a laugh—for Mr Doball was known to be very fond of grog; the former walked aft to conceal his mirth; but the latter remained. Mr Doball was in a great rage. “Did I not say that the boy was half a fool?” cried he to the first lieutenant. “At all events, I’ll not allow that he has proved himself so in this instance,” replied Mr Falcon, “for he has hit the right nail on the head.” Then the first lieutenant joined the captain, and they both went off laughing. “Put it on the capstan, sir,” said Mr Doball to me, in an angry voice. “I’ll punish you by-and-by.” I was very much astonished; I hardly knew whether I had done right or wrong; at all events, thought I to myself, I did for the best; so I put it on the capstan, and walked to my own side of the deck. The captain and first lieutenant then went below, and O’Brien came aft.
I told him what had occurred, and how the master was angry with me. O’Brien laughed very heartily, and told me never to mind, but to keep in the lee-scuppers and watch him. “A glass of grog is a bait that he’ll play round till he gorges. When you see it to his lips, go up to him boldly, and ask his pardon, if you have offended him, and then, if he’s a good Christian, as I believe him to be, he’ll not refuse it.”
I thought this was very good advice, and I waited under the bulwark on the lee-side. I observed that the master made shorter and shorter turns every time, till at last he stopped at the capstan and looked at the grog. He waited about half a minute, and then he took up the tumbler, and drank about half of it. It was very strong, and he stopped to take breath. I thought that this was the right time, and I went up to him. The tumbler was again to his lips, and before he saw me, I said, “I hope sir, you’ll forgive me; I never heard of a night telescope, and knowing that you had walked so long, I thought you were tired, and wanted something to drink to refresh you.”
“Well, Mr Simple,” said he, after he had finished the glass, with a deep sigh of pleasure, “as you meant kindly, I shall let you off this time; but recollect, that whenever you bring me a glass of grog again, it must not be in the presence of the captain or first lieutenant.”
At last our watch was over, and about two bells I was relieved by the midshipman of the next watch. It is very unfair not to relieve in time, but if I said a word, I was certain to be thrashed the next day upon some pretence or another. On the other hand, the midshipman whom I relieved was also much bigger than I was, and if I was not up before one bell, I was cut down and thrashed by him: so that between the two I kept much more than my share of the watch, except when the master sent me to bed before it was over.
