CHAPTER NINE.
THE TWO TOMS TAKE TO PROTOCOLLING--TREATY OF PEACE RATIFIED BETWEEN THEBELLIGERENT PARTIES--LOTS OF SONGS AND SUPPER--THE LARGEST MESS OF ROASTMEAT UPON RECORD.
Tom then shoved off the skiff. When half-way between the lighter andthe shore, while his mother stood watching us, he lay on his oars."Tom, Tom!" cried his mother, shaking her fist at him, as he stoopeddown his head; "if you do, Tom!"
"Tom, Tom!" cried his father, shaking his fist also; "if you dare, Tom!"
But Tom was not within reach of either party; and he dragged a bottleout of the basket which his mother had entrusted to him, and putting itto his mouth, took a long swig.
"That's enough, Tom!" screamed his mother, from the shore.
"That's too much, you rascal!" cried his father, from the barge.
Neither admonition was, however, minded by Tom, who took what heconsidered his allowance, and then very coolly pulled alongside, andhanded up the basket and bundle of clean clothes on deck. Tom then gavethe boat's painter to his father, who, I perceived, intended to salutehim with the end of it as soon as he came up; but Tom was too knowing--he surged the boat ahead, and was on deck and forward before his fathercould stump up to him. The main hatch was open, and Tom put thatobstacle between his father and himself before he commenced his parley.
"What's the matter, father?" said Tom, smiling, and looking at me.
"Matter, you scamp! How dare you touch the bottle?"
"The bottle--the bottle's there, as good as ever."
"The grog is what I mean--how dare you drink it?"
"I was half-way between my mother and you, and so I drank success andlong life to you both. Ain't that being a very dutiful son?"
"I wish I had my legs back again, you rascal!"
"You wish you had the grog back again, you mean, father."
"You have to choose between--for if you had the grog you'd keep yourlegs."
"For the matter of drinking the grog, you scamp, you seem determined tostand in my shoes."
"Well, shoes are of no use to you now, father--why shouldn't I? Whydon't you trust me? If you hadn't locked the cupboard, I wouldn't havehelped myself." And Tom, whose bootlace was loose, stooped down to makeit fast.
Old Tom, who was still in wrath, thought this a good opportunity, as hisson's head was turned the other way, to step over the bricks, withwhich, as I before said, the lighter had been laden level with the mainhatchway, and take his son by surprise. Tom, who had no idea of thismanoeuvre, would certainly have been captured, but, fortunately for him,one of the upper bricks turned over, and let his father's wooden legdown between two of the piles, where it was jammed fast. Old Tomattempted to extricate himself, but could not. "Tom, Tom, come here,"cried he, "and pull me out."
"Not I," replied Tom.
"Jacob, Jacob, come here; Tom, run and take the helm."
"Not I," replied Tom.
"Jacob, never mind the helm, she'll drift all right for a minute," criedold Tom; "come and help me."
But I had been so amused with the scene, and having a sort of feelingfor young Tom, that I declared it impossible to leave the helm withouther going on the banks. I therefore remained, wishing to see in whatway the two Toms would get out of their respective scrapes.
"Confound these--! Tom, you scoundrel, am I to stick here all day?"
"No, father, I don't suppose you will. I shall help you directly."
"Well, then, why don't you do it?"
"Because I must come to terms. You don't think I'd help myself to athrashing, do you?"
"I won't thrash you, Tom. Shiver my timbers if I do."
"They're in a fair way of being shivered as it is, I think. Now,father, we're both even."
"How's that?"
"Why you clapped a stopper over all on me this morning, and now you'vegot one on yourself."
"Well, then, take off mine, and I'll take off yours."
"If I unlock your leg, you'll unlock the cupboard?"
"Yes."
"And you promise me a _stiff one_ after dinner?"
"Yes, yes, as stiff as I stand here."
"No, that will be too much, for it would _set me fast_. I only like itabout half-and-half, as I took it just now."
Tom, who was aware that his father would adhere to his agreement,immediately went to his assistance, and throwing out some of the upperbricks, released him from his confinement. When old Tom was once moreon deck and on his legs, he observed, "It's an ill wind that blowsnobody good. The _loss_ of my leg has been the _saving_ of you many atime, Mr Tom."
It was now time to anchor, as we were meeting the flood. Tom, whoofficiated as cook, served up the dinner, which was ready; and we wereall very pleasant; Tom treating his father with perfect confidence. Aswe had not to weigh again for some hours, our repast was prolonged, andold Tom, having fulfilled his promise to his son of a _stiff one_, tookone or two himself, and became very garrulous.
"Come, spin us a good yarn, father; we've nothing to do, and Jacob willlike to hear you."
"Well, then, so I will," answered he; "what shall it be about?"
"Fire and water, of course," replied Tom.
"Well, then, I'll tell you something about both, since you wish it; howI came into his Majesty's sarvice, through _fire_, and how the officerwho pressed me went out of it through _water_. I was still 'prentice,and wanted about three months to sarve my time, when, of course, Ishould no longer be protected from sarving the king, when the ship I wasin sailed up the Baltic with a cargo of bullocks. We had at least twohundred on board, tied up on platforms on every deck, with their headsclose to the sides, and all their sterns looking in-board. They werefat enough when they were shipped, but soon dwindled away: the weatherwas very bad, and the poor creatures rolled against each other, andslipped about in a way that it pitied you to see them. However, theywere stowed so thick, that they held one another up, which proved ofservice to them in the heavy gales which tossed the ship about like apea in a rattle. We had joined a large convoy, and were entering theSound, when, as usual, it fell calm, and out came the Danish gunboats toattack us. The men-of-war who had charge of the convoy behaved nobly;but still they were becalmed, and many of us were a long way astern.Our ship was pretty well up; but she was too far in-shore; and the Danesmade a dash at us with the hope of making a capture. The men-of-war,seeing what the enemy were about, sent boats to beat them off; but itwas too late to prevent them boarding, which they did. Not wishing topeep through the bars of the gaol at Copenhagen, we left the ship in ourboats on one side, just as the Danes boarded on the other, and pulledtowards the men-of-war's armed boats coming to our assistance. Themen-of-war's boats pulled right for the ship to retake her, which theydid, certainly, but not before the enemy had set fire to the vessel, andhad then pulled off towards another. Seeing this, the men-of-war'sboats again gave chase to the Danes, leaving us to extinguish theflames, which were now bursting out fore and aft, and climbing likefiery serpents up to the main catharprings. We soon found that it wasimpossible; we remained as long as the heat and smoke would permit us,and then we were obliged to be off, but I shall never forget the roaringand moaning of the poor animals who were then roasting alive. It was acruel thing of the Danes to fire a vessel full of these poor creatures.Some had broken loose, and were darting up and down the decks goringothers, and tumbling down the hatchways; others remained trembling, ortrying to snuff up a mouthful of fresh air amongst the smoke; but thestruggling and bellowing, as the fire caught the vessel fore and aft,and was grilling two hundred poor creatures at once, was at lastshocking, and might have been heard for a mile. We did all we could. Icut the throats of a dozen, but they kicked and struggled so much,falling down [upon], and treading you under their feet; and one lay uponme, and I expected to be burnt with them, for it was not until I washelped that I got clear of the poor animal. So we stayed as long as wecould, and then left them to their fate; and the smell of burnt meat, aswe shoved off, was as horrible as the
cries and wailings of the poorbeasts themselves. The men-of-war's boats returned, having chased awaythe Danes, and very kindly offered us all a ship, as we had lost ourown, so that you see that by _fire_ I was forced into his Majesty'ssarvice. Now, the boat that took us belonged to one of the frigates whohad charge of the convoy, and the lieutenant who commanded the boat wasa swearing, tearing sort of a chap, who lived as if his life was to lastfor ever.
"After I was taken on board, the captain asked me if I would enter, andI thought that I might as well sarve the king handsomely, so Ivolunteered. It's always the best thing to do, when you're taken, andcan't help yourself, for you are more trusted than a pressed man who isobstinate. I liked the sarvice from the first--the captain was not aparticular man; according to some people's ideas of the sarvice, shewasn't in quite man-of-war fashion, but she was a happy ship, and themen would have followed and fought for the captain to the last drop oftheir blood. That's the sort of ship for me. I've seen cleaner decks,but I never saw merrier hearts. The only one of the officers dislikedby the men was the lieutenant who pressed me; he had a foul mouth and nodiscretion; and as for swearing, it was really terrible to hear thewords which came out of his mouth. I don't mind an oath rapped out inthe heat of the moment, but he invented his oaths when he was cool, andlet them out in his rage. We were returning home, after having seen theconvoy safe, when we met with a gale of wind in our teeth, one of thevery worst I ever fell in with. It had been blowing hard from the SouthWest, and then shifted to the North West, and made a cross sea, whichwas tremendous. Now, the frigate was a very old vessel, and althoughthey had often had her into dock and repaired her below, they had takenno notice of her upper works, which were as rotten as a medlar. I thinkit was about three bells in the middle watch, when the wind was howlingthrough the rigging, for we had no canvas on her 'cept a staysail andtrysail, when the stay-sail sheet went, and she broached-to afore theycould prevent her. The lieutenant I spoke of had the watch, and hisvoice was heard through the roaring of the wind swearing at the men tohaul down the staysail, that we might bend on the sheet, and set itright again; when, she having, I said, broached-to, a wave--ay, a waveas high as the maintop almost, took the frigate right on her broadside,and the bulwarks of the quarter-deck being, as I said, quite rotten, cutthem off clean level with the main chains, sweeping them, and guns, andmen, all overboard together. The mizzenmast went, but the mainmast heldon, and I was under its lee at the time, and was saved by clinging onlike a nigger, while for a minute I was under the water, which carriedalmost all away with it to leeward. As soon as the water passed overme, I looked up and around me--it was quite awful; the quarter-deck wascut off as with a knife--not a soul left there, that I could see; no manat the wheel--mizzen-mast gone--skylights washed away--waves making aclear breach, and no defence; boats washed away from the quarters--allsilent on deck, but plenty of noise below and on the main-deck, for theship was nearly full of water, and all below were hurrying up in theirshirts, thinking that we were going down. At last the captain crawledup, and clung by the stancheons, followed by the first lieutenant andthe officers, and by degrees all was quiet, the ship was cleared, andthe hands were turned up to muster under the half-deck. There wereforty-seven men who did not answer to their names--they had beensummoned to answer for their lives, poor fellows! and there was also theswearing lieutenant not to be found. Well, at last we got the hands ondeck, and put her before the wind, scudding under bare poles. As wewent aft to the taffrail, the bulwark of which still remained, withabout six feet of the quarter-deck bulwark on each side, we observedsomething clinging to the stern-ladder, dipping every now and then intothe sea, as it rose under her counter, and assisted the wind in drivingher before the gale. We soon made it out to be a man, and I went down,slipped a bowling knot over the poor fellow, and with some difficulty wewere both hauled up again. It proved to be the lieutenant, who had beenwashed under the counter, and clung to the stern-ladder, and had thusmiraculously been preserved. It was a long while before he came to, andhe never did any duty the whole week we were out, till we got intoYarmouth Roads; indeed, he hardly ever spoke a word to any one, butseemed to be always in serious thought. When we arrived, he gave hiscommission to the captain, and went on shore; went to school again, theysay, _bore up for a parson_, and, for all I know, he'll preach somewherenext Sunday. So you see, _water_ drove him out of the sarvice, and_fire_ forced me in. There's a yarn for you, Jacob."
"I like it very much," replied I.
"And now, father, give us a whole song, and none of your little bits."Old Tom broke out with the "Death of Nelson," in a style that made thetune and words ring in my ears for the whole evening.
The moon was up before the tide served, and we weighed our anchor; oldTom steering, while his son was preparing supper, and I remainingforward, keeping a sharp look-out that we did not run foul of anything.It was a beautiful night; and as we passed through the several bridges,the city appeared as if it were illuminated, from the quantity of gasthrowing a sort of halo of light over the tops of the buildings whichoccasionally marked out the main streets from the general dark mass--oldTom's voice was still occasionally heard, as the scene brought to hisremembrance his variety of song.
"For the murmur of thy lip, love, Comes sweetly unto me, As the sound of oars that dip, love, At moonlight on the sea."
I never was more delighted than when I heard these snatches of differentsongs poured forth in such melody from old Tom's lips, the notesfloating along the water during the silence of the night. I turned aftto look at him; his face was directed upwards, looking on the moon,which glided majestically through the heavens, silvering the whole ofthe landscape. The water was smooth as glass, and the rapid tide hadswept us clear of the ranges of ships in the pool; both banks of theriver were clear, when old Tom again commenced:--
"The moon is up, her silver beam Shines bower, and grove, and mountain over; A flood of radiance heaven doth seem To light thee, maiden, to thy lover."
"Jacob, how does the bluff-nob bear? on the starboard bow?"
"Yes--broad on the bow; you'd better keep up half a point, the tidesweeps us fast."
"Very true, Jacob; look out, and say when steady it is, boy.
"If o'er her orb a cloud should rest, 'Tis but thy cheek's soft blush to cover. He waits to clasp thee to his breast; The moon is up--go, meet thy lover.
"Tom, what have you got for supper, boy? What is that frizzing in yourfrying-pan? Smells good, anyhow."
"Yes, and I expect will taste good too. However, you look after themoon, father, and leave me and the frying-pan to play our parts."
"While I sing mine, I suppose, boy.
"The moon is up, round beauty's shine, Love's pilgrims bend at vesper hour, Earth breathes to heaven, and looks divine, And lovers' hearts confess her power."
Old Tom stopped and the frying-pan frizzled on, sending forth an odourwhich, if not grateful to Heaven, was peculiarly so to us mortals,hungry with the fresh air.
"How do we go now, Jacob?"
"Steady, and all's right; but we shall be met with the wind next reach,and had better brail up the mainsail."
"Go, then, Tom, and help Jacob."
"I can't leave the _ingons_, [onions] father, not if the lighter tumbledoverboard; it would bring more tears in my eyes to spoil them, now thatthey are frying so merrily, than they did when I was cutting them up.Besides, the liver would be as black as the bends."
"Clap the frying-pan down on deck, Tom, and brail the sail up withJacob, there's a good boy. You can give it another shake or twoafterwards.
"Guide on, my bark, how sweet to rove, With such a beaming eye above!
"That's right, my boys, belay all that; now to our stations; Jacob onthe look-out, Tom to his frying-pan, and I to the helm--
"No sound is heard to break the spell, Except the water's gentle swell; While midnight, like a mimic day, Shines on to guide our moonlight way.
"Well, the moon's a beauti
ful creature--God bless her! How often havewe longed for her in the dark winter, channel-cruising, when the waveswere flying over the Eddystone, and trying in their malice to put outthe light. I don't wonder at people making songs to the moon, nor at mysinging them. We'll anchor when we get down the next reach."
We swept the next reach with the tide which was now slacking fast. Ouranchor was dropped and we all went to supper, and to bed. I have beenparticular in describing the first day of my being on board with my newshipmates, as it may be taken as a sample of our every day life; Tom andhis father fighting and making friends, cooking, singing, and spinningyarns. Still, I shall have more scenes to describe. Our voyage wasmade, we took in a return cargo, and arrived at the proprietor's wharf,when I found that I could not proceed with them the next voyage, as thetrial of Fleming and Marables was expected to come on in a few days.The lighter, therefore, took in another cargo, and sailed without me;Mr Drummond, as usual, giving me the run of his house.
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