Jacob Faithful

by Frederick Marryat

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

  THE TOMKINSES' FETE CHAMPETRE AND FETE DANSANTE--LIGHTS AMONG THEGOOSEBERRY-BUSHES--ALL WENT OFF WELL, EXCEPTING THE LIGHTS, THEY WENTOUT--A WINDING UP THAT HAD NEARLY PROVED A CATASTROPHE--OLD TOM PROVESTHAT DANGER MAKES FRIENDS BY A YARN, YOUNG TOM BY A FACT.

  I remained with Mr Drummond about eight months, when at last the newclerk made his appearance--a little fat fellow, about twenty, with aface as round as a full moon, thick lips, and red cheeks. During thistime I frequently had the pleasure of meeting with old and young Tom,who appeared very anxious that I should rejoin them; and I must say thatI was equally willing to return to the lighter. Still Mr Drummond puthis veto on it, and Mrs Drummond was also constantly pointing out thevery desirable situation I might have on shore as a clerk in the office;but I could not bear it--seated nearly the whole day--perched up on ahigh stool--turning over Debtors, contra Creditors, and onlyoccasionally interrupted by the head clerk, with his attempt to makerhymes. The new clerk came, I expected my release, but I wasdisappointed. Mr Drummond discovered him to be so awkward, and thehead clerk declared that the time was so busy, that he could not spareme. This was true; Mr Drummond had just come to a final arrangement,which had been some time pending, by which he purchased a wharf andlarge warehouses, with a house adjoining, in Lower Thames Street--a verylarge concern, for which he had paid a considerable sum of money. Whatwith the valuations, winding up of the Brentford concern on the oldaccount, etcetera, there was much to do, and I toiled at the desk untilthe removal took place; and when the family were removed, I was stilldetained, as there was no warehouseman to superintend the unloading andhoisting up of goods. Mr Tomkins, the head clerk, who had been manyyears a faithful servant to Mr Drummond, was admitted a partner, andhad charge of the Brentford wharf, a species of promotion which he andhis wife resolved to celebrate with a party. After a long debate, itwas resolved that they should give a ball, and Mrs Tomkins exerted allher taste and ingenuity on the occasion. My friend Tomkins lived at ashort distance from the premises, in a small house, surrounded with halfan acre of garden, chiefly filled with gooseberry-bushes, andperambulated by means of four straight gravel walks. Mr and MrsDrummond were invited, and accepted the invitation, which was consideredby the Tomkinses as a great mark of condescension. As a specimen of MrTomkins's poetical talents, I shall give his invitation to Mr Drummond,written in the very best German text:--

  "Mr and Mrs T--- Sincerely hope to see Mr and Mrs Drum- Mond, to a very hum- Ble party that they in- Tend to ask their kin To, on the Saturday Of the week ensuing: When fiddles they will play, And other things be doing."

  _Belle Vue House_.

  To which _jeu d'esprit_ Mr Drummond answered with a pencil on a card--

  "Mr and Mrs Drum- Mond intend to come."

  "Here, give Tomkins that, Jacob; it will please him better than anyformal acceptation." Mr and Mrs Turnbull were also asked; the formeraccepted, but the latter indignantly refused.

  When I arrived with Mr and Mrs Drummond many of the company werethere; the garden was what they called illuminated, that is, everygooseberry-bush had one variegated lamp suspended above the centre; and,as Mr Tomkins told me afterwards, the lamps were red and yellow,according to the fruit they bore. It was a cold, frosty, clear night,and the lamps twinkled as brightly among the bare boughs of thegooseberry trees as the stars did in the heavens. The company ingeneral were quite charmed with the novelty. "Quite a _minorWauxhall_," cried one lady, whose exuberance of fat kept her warm enoughto allow her to stare about in the open air. The entrance porch had adozen little lamps, backed with laurel twigs, and looked very imposing.Mrs Tomkins received her company upon the steps outside, that she mighthave the pleasure of hearing their praises of her external arrangements;still it was freezing, and she shivered not a little. The drawing-room,fourteen feet by ten, was fitted up as a ballroom, with two fiddlers anda fifer sitting in a corner and a country-dance was performing when wearrived. Over the mantle-piece was a square of laurel twigs, inclosingas a frame this couplet from the poetical brain of the master of thehouse, cut out in red paper, and bespangled with blue and yellowtinsel--

  "Here we are to dance so gay, While the fiddlers play away."

  Other appropriate distichs, which I have now forgotten, were framed inthe same way on each of the other compartments. But the dining-room wasthe _chef d'oeuvre_. It was formed into a bower, with evergreens, andon the evergreen boughs were stuck real apples and oranges in alldirections, so that you could help yourself.

  "Vell, I do declare, this is a paradise!" exclaimed the fat lady whoentered with me.

  "In all but one thing, ma'am," replied Mr Turnbull, who, with his coatoff, was squeezing lemons for the punch--"there's no _forbidden_ fruit.You may help yourself."

  The bon-mot was repeated by Mr Tomkins to the end of his existence, notonly for its own sake, but because it gave him an opportunity ofentering into a detail of the whole _fete_--the first he had ever givenin his life. "Ah, Jacob, my boy, glad to see you--come and help here--they'll soon be thirsty, I'll warrant," said Mr Turnbull, who was inhis glory. The company, although not so very select, were very happy;they danced, drank punch, laughed, and danced again; and it was not tilla late hour, long after Mr and Mrs Drummond had gone home, that Iquitted the "festive scene;" Mr Turnbull, who walked away with me,declaring that it was worth a dozen of his party, although they had notsuch grand people as Mrs Tagliabue, or the Right Honourable LordViscount Babbleton. I thought so too; every one was happy, and everyone at their ease; and I do believe they would have stayed much longer,but the musicians took so much punch that one fiddler broke his fiddle,the other broke his head in going down the steps into the garden, andthe fifer swore he could blow no longer; so, as there was an end to themusic, clogs, pattens, and lanterns were called for, the shawls werebrought out of the kitchen, and every one went away. Nothing could _gooff better_. Mrs Tomkins had a cold and rheumatism the next day; butthat was not surprising, a _minor Wauxhall_ not being seasonable in themonth of December.

  A week after this party we removed to Thames Street, and I performed theduty of warehouseman. Our quantity of lighters was now much increased,and employed in carrying dry goods, etcetera. One morning old Tom cameunder the crane to discharge his lighter, and wishing to see me, whenthe fall had been overhauled down to heave up the casks with which thelighter was laden, instead of hooking on a cask, held on by his hands,crying, "Hoist away," intending to be hoisting himself up to the door ofthe warehouse where I was presiding. Now, there was nothing unusual inthis whim of old Tom's, but still he ran a very narrow chance, inconsequence of an extra whim of young Tom's, who, as soon as his fatherwas suspended in the air, caught hold of his two wooden stumps, to behoisted up also; and as he caught hold of them, standing on tiptoe, theyboth swung clear of the lighter, which could not approach to within fivefeet of the buildings. The crane was on the third story of thewarehouse, and very high up. "Tom, Tom, you rascal, what the devil areyou about?" cried the old man, when he felt the weight of his son's bodyhanging to him.

  "Going up along with you, father--hope we shall go to heaven the sameway."

  "More likely to go to the devil together, you little fool; I never canbear your weight. Hoist away, there, quick."

  Hearing the voices, I looked out of the door, and perceiving theirsituation, ordered the men to hoist as fast as they could, before oldTom's strength should be exhausted; but it was a compound moving crane,and we could not hoist very fast, although we could hoist very greatweights. At last, as they were wound up higher and higher, old Tom'sstrength was going fast. "O Tom, Tom, what must be done? I can't--Ican't hold on but a little longer, and we shall be both dashed topieces. My poor boy?"

  "Well, then, I'll let go, father; it was all my folly, and I'll be thesufferer."

  "Let go!" cried old Tom; "no, no, Tom--don't let go, my boy; I'll try alittle longer. Don't let go, my dear boy--don't let go!"

  "Well, fath
er, how much longer can you hold on?"

  "A little--very little longer," replied the old man, struggling. "Well,hold fast now," cried young Tom, who, raising his head above his arms,with great exertion shifted one of his hands to his father's thigh, thenthe other; raising himself as before, he then caught at the seat of hisfather's trousers with his teeth; old Tom groaned, for his son had takenhold of more than the garments; he then shifted his hands round hisfather's body--from thence he gained the collar of his jacket--from thecollar he climbed on his father's shoulders, from thence he seized holdof the fall above, and relieved his father of the weight. "Now, father,are you all right?" cried Tom, panting as he clung to the fall abovehim.

  "I can't hold on ten seconds more, Tom--no longer--my clutch is goingnow."

  "Hang on by your eyelids, father, if you love me," cried young Tom, inagony.

  It was indeed an awful moment; they were now at least sixty feet abovethe lighter, suspended in the air; the men whirled round the wheel, andI had at last the pleasure of hauling them both in on the floor of thewarehouse; the old man so exhausted that he could not speak for morethan a minute. Young Tom, as soon as all was safe, laughedimmoderately. Old Tom sat upright. "It might have been no laughingmatter, Mr Tom," said he, looking at his son.

  "What's done can't be helped, father, as Jacob says. After all, you'remore frightened than hurt."

  "I don't know that, you young scamp," replied the old man, putting hishand behind him, and rubbing softly; "you've bit a piece clean out of my_starn_. Now, let this be a warning to you, Tom. Jacob, my boy,couldn't you say that I've met with an _accident_, and get a drop ofsomething from Mr Drummond?"

  I thought, after his last observation, I might honestly say that he hadmet with an accident, and I soon returned with a glass of brandy, whichold Tom was drinking off when his son interrupted him for a share.

  "You know, father, I shared the danger."

  "Yes, Tom, I know you did," replied the father; "but this was sent to meon account of my _accident_, and as I had that all to myself, I shallhave all this too."

  "But, father, you ought to give me a drop, if it were only to _take thetaste out of my mouth_."

  "Your own flesh and blood, Tom," replied his father, emptying his glass.

  "Well, I always heard it was quite unnatural not to like your own fleshand blood," replied Tom; "but I see now that there may be reasons forit."

  "Be content, Tom," replied his father, putting down the glass; "we'renow just square. You've had your _raw nip_, and I've had mine."

  Mr Drummond now came up, and asked what had been the matter. "Nothing,sir--only an accident. Tom and I had a bit of a _hoist_."

  As this last word had a double meaning, Mr Drummond thought that a caskhad surged, when coming out of the lighter, and struck them down. Hedesired old Tom to be more careful, and walked away, while we proceededto unload the lighter. The new clerk was a very heavy, simple youngman, plodding and attentive certainly, but he had no other merit; he wassent into the lighter to rake the marks and numbers of the casks as theywere hoisted up, and soon became a butt to young Tom, who gave him thewrong marks and numbers of all the casks, to his interrogations.

  "What's that, boy?" cried the pudding-faced fellow, with his pencil inone hand and his book in the other.

  "Pea soup, 13," replied Tom; "ladies' bonnets, 24. Now, then, master,chalk again, pipe-clay for sodgers, 3; red herrings, 26." All of whichwere carefully noted down by Mr Grubbins who, when the lighter wascleared, took the memoranda to Mr Drummond.

  Fortunately, we had checked the number of the casks as they werereceived above--their contents were flour. Mr Drummond sent for youngTom, and asked him how he dared play such a trick. Tom replied veryboldly, "that it was meant as a good lesson to the young man, that infuture he did his own work, and did not trust to others." To this MrDrummond agreed, and Master Tom was dismissed without punishment.

  As the men had all gone to dinner, I went down into the lighter to havea little chat with my old shipmates. "Well, Jacob," said old Tom,"Tom's not a bit wiser than he was before--two scrapes to-day, already."

  "Well, father, if I prove my folly by getting into scrapes, I prove mywit by getting out of them."

  "Yes, that may be true, Tom; but suppose we had both come down with arun, what would you have thought then?"

  "I suspect, father, that I should have been past thinking."

  "I once did see a thing of that kind happen," said old Tom, calling tomind former scenes in his life; "and I'll tell you a yarn about it,boys, because they say danger makes friends."

  We sat down by old Tom, who narrated as follows "When I was captain ofthe main-top in the _La Minerve_, forty-four gun frigate, we were thesmartest ship up the Mediterranean; and many's the exercise we were themeans of giving to other ship's companies, because they could not beatus--no, not even hold a candle to us. In both fore and main-top we hadeight-and-twenty as smart chaps as ever put their foot to a rattling, orslid down by an a'ter backstay. Now, the two captains of the foretopwere both prime young men, active as monkeys, and bold as lions. Onewas named Tom Herbert, from North Shields, a dark, good-looking chap,with teeth as white as a nigger's, and a merry chap he was, alwaysa-showing them. The other was a cockney chap. Your Lunnuners arn'toften good seamen; but when they are seamen, there's no better; theynever allow any one to show them the way, that's for sartin, beingnaturally spunky sort of chaps, and full of tricks and fun. Thisfellow's name was Bill Wiggins, and between him and Herbert there wasalways a jealousy who should be the smartest man. I've seen both ofthem run out on the yard, in fine weather, without holding on nothing,seize the lift, and down to their station, haul up the earing, in notime; up by the lift again, and down on deck, by the backstay, beforehalf the men had time to get clear of the top. In fact, they oftenrisked their lives in bad weather, when there was no occasion for it,that one might outdo the other. Now, this was all very well, and a goodexample to the other men: the captain and officers appeared to likethese contests for superiority, but it ended in their hating each other,and not being even on speaking terms, which, as the two captains of thetop, was bad. They had quarrelled often, and fought five times, neitherproving the better man; either both done up, or parted by themaster-at-arms, and reported to the first lieutenant, so that at lastthey were not so much countenanced by the officers, and were out offavour with the captain, who threatened to disrate them both if everthey fought again. We were cruising off the Gulf of Lyons, wheresometimes it blows hard enought to blew the devil's horns off, thoughthe gales never last very long. We were under close reefed fore- andmain-top sails, storm stay-sail and trysail, when there was a fresh handat the bellows, and the captain desired the officers of the watch, justbefore dinner to take in the fore-top sail. Not to disturb the watchbelow, the main-top men were ordered up forward to help the fore-top menof the watch; and I was of course aloft, ready to lie out on the leeyard-arm--when Wiggins, who had the watch below, came up in the top, notliking that Herbert should be at work in such weather without he beingthere too.

  "`Tom,' says to me, `I'll take the yard-arm.'

  "`Very well,' say I, `with all my heart; then I'll look to the bunt.'

  "Just at that time there came on a squall with rain, which almostblinded us; the sail was taken in very neatly, the clew-lines,chock-a-block, bunt-lines and leech-lines well up, reef-tacklesoverhauled, rolling-tackles taut, and all as it should be. The men liedout on the yard, the squall wore worse and worse, but they were handingin the leech of the sail, when snap went one bunt-line, then the other;the sail flapped and flagged, till away went the leech-lines, and themen clung to the yards for their lives; for the sail mastered them, andthey could do nothing. At last it split like thunder, buffeting the menon the yard-arms till they were almost senseless, until to windward itwore away into long coach whips, and the whole of the canvas left was atthe lee yard-arm. The men laid in at last with great difficulty, quiteworn out by fatigue and clinging for their ex
istence; all but Wiggins,who was barred by the sail to leeward from making his footing good onthe horse, and there he was, poor fellow, completely in irons, and sobeaten by the canvas that he could hardly be said to be sensible. Ittakes a long while to tell all this, but it wasn't the work of a minute.At last he made an attempt to get up by the lift, but was struck down,and would have been hurled overboard if it hadn't been that his leg fellover the horse, and there he was, head downwards, hanging over a ragingsea, ready to swallow him up as soon as he dropt into it. As every oneexpected he would be beat off before any assistance could be given, youmay guess that it was an awful moment to those below who were looking upat him, watching for his fall and the roll of the ship, to see if hefell clear into the sea, or was dashed to pieces in the fore-chains.

  "I couldn't bear to see a fellow-creature, and good seaman in thebargain, in that state, and although the captain dare not _order_ anyone to help him, yet there were one or two midshipmen hastening up thefore-rigging, with the intent, I have no doubt, of trying to save him(for midshipmen don't value their lives at a quid of tobacco), so Iseizes the studding sail halyards, and runs up the topmast rigging,intending to go down by the lift, and pass a bowling knot round himbefore he fell, when who should I meet at the cross-trees but TomHerbert, who snatched the rope out of my hand, bawling to me through thegale, `This is my business, Tom.'

  "Down he goes by the lift, the remainder of the canvas flapped over him,and I seed no more until I heard a cry from all below, and away wentHerbert and Wiggins, both together, flying to leeward just as the shipwas taking her recovery to windward. Fortunately they both fell clearof the ship about two feet, not more, and as their fall was expected,they had prepared below. A master's mate, of the name of Simmonds, andthe captain of the forecastle, both went overboard in bowling knots,with another in their hands, and in a minute or two they were all fouron board again; but Herbert and were both senseless, and a long whilecoming to again. Well, now, what do you think was the upshot of it?Why, they were the best friends in the world ever afterwards, and wouldhave died for one another; and if one had a glass of grog from theofficers for any little job, instead of touching his forelock anddrinking it off to the officer's health, he always took it out of thegun-room, that he might give half of it to the other. So, d'ye see myboys, as I said before I began my yarn, that danger makes friends.

  "'Tis said we vent'rous die hard, When we leave the shore, Our friends may mourn, lest we return To bless their sight no more. But this is all a notion Bold Jack can't understand; Some die upon the ocean. And some die upon dry land."

  "And if we had tumbled, father, we should have just died betwixt andbetween, not water enough to float us. It would have been _woolez wousparlez wous_, plump in the mud, as you say sometimes."

  "Why, yes, Tom. I've a notion that I should have been planted too deepever to have struck," replied the old man, looking at his wooden stumps.

  "Why, yes, father, _legs_ are _legs_, when you tumble into six foot ofmud. How you would have _dibbled_ down, if your _daddles_ hadn't heldon."

  "Well then, Tom, recollect that you never _sell_ your father for a_lark_ again."

  Tom laughed, and catching at the word, although used in a differentsense, sung--

  "Just like the _lark_ high poised in air.

  "And so were you, father, only you didn't sing as he does, and youdidn't leave your young one below in the nest."

  "Ay, it is the young uns which prevent the old ones from rising in theworld--that's very true, Tom. Holla, who have we got here? My serviceto you, at all events."