by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER III: A DOMESTIC STORM
Great was the surprise of Dame Anthony when, on sending down her servantwith a letter to Jack Stilwell, the woman returned, saying that he hadleft his lodging two days before and had not returned. All his thingshad been left behind, and it was evident that when he went out he had nointention of leaving. The woman of the house said that Master Stilwellwas a steady and regular lodger, and that she could not but thinksomething had happened to him. Of course she didn't know, but all thetown were talking of the men who had been taken away by the press gang,and she thought they must have clapped hands on her lodger.
Dame Anthony at once jumped at that conclusion. The pressing of fiftymen had indeed made a great stir in the town during the last two days.The mayor's office had been thronged by angry women complaining of theirhusbands or sons being dragged away; and the mayor had been the objectof many threats and much indignation, and had the evening beforereturned home bespattered with mud, having been pelted on his way fromthe town hall by the women, and having only been saved from more seriousassaults by the exertions of the constables.
Dame Anthony had been surprised that her husband had taken these thingsso quietly. Some of the women had indeed been seized and set in thestocks, but the mayor had made light of the affair, and had altogetherseemed in an unusually good state of temper. Dame Anthony at onceconnected this with Jack's disappearance. She knew that the list hadbeen made out by the mayor, and the idea that her husband had taken thismeans of getting rid of Jack, and that he was exulting over the successof his scheme, flashed across her. As the mayor was away at the townhall she was forced to wait till his return to dinner; but no soonerhad the meal been concluded and Andrew Carson and the two assistants hadleft the table than she began:
"Richard, I want to look at the list of the men who were pressed."
The request scarcely came as a surprise upon the clothier. He had madeup his mind that his wife would be sure sooner or later to discoverthat Jack was missing, and would connect his disappearance with theoperations of the press gang.
"What do you want to see that for?" he asked shortly.
"I want to see who have been taken," his wife said. "There is no secretabout it, I suppose?"
"No, there is no secret," the mayor replied. "According to the act ofparliament and the request of her majesty's minister I drew up a listof fifty of the most useless and disreputable of the inhabitants ofthis town, and I rejoice to say that the place is rid of them all. Therespectable citizens are all grateful to me for the manner in whichI have fulfilled the task laid upon me, and as to the clamor of a fewangry women, it causes me not a moment's annoyance."
"I don't know why you are telling me all this, Richard," his wife saidcalmly. "I did not cast any reflections as to the manner in which youmade your choice. I only said I wished to see the list."
"I do not see that the list concerns you," the mayor said. "Why do youwish to see it?"
"I wish to see it, Richard, because I suspect that the name of my CousinJack Stilwell is upon it."
"Oh, mother!" cried Alice, who had been listening in surprise to theconversation, suddenly starting to her feet; "you don't mean that theyhave pressed Jack to be a soldier."
"Leave the room, Alice," her father said angrily. "This is no concern ofa child like you." When the door closed behind the girl he said to hiswife:
"Naturally his name is in the list. I selected fifty of the mostworthless fellows in Southampton, and his name was the first whichoccurred to me. What then?"
"Then I tell you, Richard," Dame Anthony said, rising, "that you are awretch, a mean, cowardly, cruel wretch. You have vented your spite uponJack, whom I love as if he were my own son, because he would not putup with the tyranny of your foreman and yourself. You may be Mayor ofSouthampton, you may be a great man in your own way, but I call you amean, pitiful fellow. I won't stay in the house with you an hour longer.The wagon for Basingstoke comes past at three o'clock, and I shall goand stay with my father and mother there, and take Alice with me."
"I forbid you to do anything of the sort," the mayor said pompously.
"You forbid!" Dame Anthony cried. "What do I care for your forbidding?If you say a word I will go down the town and join those who pelted youwith mud last night. A nice spectacle it would be for the worthy Mayorof Southampton to be pelted in the street by a lot of women led by hisown wife. You know me, Richard. You know when I say I will do a thing Iwill do it."
"I will lock you up in your own room, woman."
"You won't," Dame Anthony said scornfully. "I would scream out of thewindow till I brought the whole town round. No, Mr. Mayor. You have hadyour own way, and I am going to have mine. Go and tell the town if youlike that your wife has left you because you kidnapped her cousin, theboy she loved. You tell your story and I will tell mine. Why, the womenin the town would hoot you, and you wouldn't dare show your face in thestreets. You insist, indeed! Why, you miserable little man, my fingersare tingling now. Say another word to me and I will box your ears tillyou won't know whether you are standing on your head or your heels."
The mayor was a small man, while Dame Anthony, although not above theusual height, was plump and strong; and her crestfallen spouse feltthat she was capable of carrying her threat into execution. He thereforethought it prudent to make no reply, and his angry wife swept from theroom.
It was some time before the mayor descended to his shop. In the intervalhe had thought the matter over, and had concluded that it would be bestfor him to let his wife have her way. Indeed, he did not see how hecould do otherwise.
He had expected a storm, but not such a storm as this. Never beforein his fifteen years of married life had he seen his wife in such apassion, and there was no saying whether she would not carry all herthreats into execution if he interfered with her now. No. It would bebetter to let her go. The storm would blow over in time. It was naturalenough for her to go over and stay a few weeks with her people, and intime, of course, she would come back again. After all, he had got rid ofJack, and this being so, he could afford for awhile to put up with theabsence of his wife. It was unpleasant, of course, very unpleasant, tobe called such names, but as no one had heard them but himself it didnot so much matter. Perhaps, after all, it was the best thing that couldhappen that she should take it into her head to go away for a time. Inher present mood she would not make things comfortable at home, and, ofcourse, his daughter would side with her mother.
Accordingly, when the carrier's wagon stopped at the door the mayorwent out with a pleasant countenance, and saw that the boxes were safelyplaced in it, and that his wife was comfortably seated on some shawlsspread over a heap of straw. His attention, however, received neitherthanks nor recognition from Dame Anthony, while Alice, whose face wasswollen with crying, did not speak a word. However, they were seatedwell under the cover of the wagon, and could not be seen by the fewpeople standing near; and as the mayor continued till the wagon startedspeaking cheerfully, and giving them all sorts of injunctions as totaking care of themselves on the way, he flattered himself that no onewould have an idea that the departure was anything but an amicable one.
A week later a letter arrived for Dame Anthony and the mayor at oncerecognized the handwriting of Jack Stilwell. He took it up to his room,and had a considerable debate with himself as to whether he would openit or not. The question was, What did the boy say? If he wrote full ofbitter complaints as to his treatment, the receipt of the letter by hiswife would only make matters worse, and in that case it would be betterto destroy the letter as well as any others which might follow it, andso put an end to all communication, for it was unlikely that the boywould ever return to England.
Accordingly he opened the letter, and after reading it through, laidit down with a feeling of something like relief. It was written in acheerful spirit. Jack began by saying that he feared Dame Anthony andAlice would have been anxious when they heard that he was missing fromhis lodgings.
"I have no doubt, my dear cousin, y
ou will have guessed what hasbefallen me, seeing that so many have been taken away in the same way. Idon't think that my late master acted handsomely in thus getting rid ofme; for, as the list was made up by him, it was of course his doing. Butyou will please tell him from me that I feel no grudge against him. Inthe first place, he did not know I was going away to sea, and it mustnaturally have angered him to see one known to be connected with himhanging about Southampton doing nothing. Besides, I know that he alwaysmeant kindly by me. He took me in when I had nowhere to go, he gaveme my apprenticeship without fee, and, had it not been that my rovingspirit rendered me disinclined for so quiet a life, he would doubtlesshave done much for me hereafter. Thus thinking it over, it seems to mebut reasonable that he should have been angered at my rejection of thebenefits he intended for me.
"In the next place, it may be that his action in shipping me off as asoldier may in the end prove to be for my welfare. Had I carried out myintention and gone as a sailor, a sailor I might have remained all mylife. It seems to me that as a soldier my chances are larger. Not onlyshall I see plenty of fighting and adventure, which accords well withmy spirit, but it seems to me--and a sergeant who has shown me muchkindness says that it is so--that there are fair chances of advancement.The soldiers are for the great part disorderly and ignorant men; and,as I mean to be steady and obedient so as to gain the goodwill of theofficers, and as I have received a good education from my dear father,I hope in time to come to be regarded as one somewhat different from thecommon herd; and if I get an opportunity of distinguishing myself, anddo not get killed by a Spanish bullet or pike thrust, or by the feverswhich they say are not uncommon, then it is possible I may come back atthe end of the war with some honor and credit, and, the sergeant said,may even obtain advancement to the rank of an officer. Therefore my latemaster, having done me many good turns, may perhaps find that this lastone--even though he intended it not--is the best of all. Will you makemy respects to him, dear cousin, and tell him that I feel no grudge orill will against him? Will you give my love to my Cousin Alice? Tell herthat I will bring her home some rare keepsakes from Spain should theyfall in my way; and you know I will do the same for yourself, who havealways been so good and kind to me."
"The boy is not a bad boy," the mayor said, well pleased as he laid downthe letter. "It may be that I have judged him too harshly, seeing thathe set himself against what was best for his welfare. Still, one cannotexpect men's heads on boys' shoulders, and he writes dutifully andproperly. I believe it is the fault of Andrew Carson, who was foreveredging me on by reports of the boy's laziness and carelessness. Hecertainly has a grudge against him, and he assuredly exceeded his placeand authority when he lifted his hand against my wife's cousin. It seemsto me truly that I have acted somewhat hastily and wrong headedly in thematter. I shall give Master Carson notice that at the end of a monthI shall require his services no longer--the fellow puts himself tooforward. That will please Mary; she never liked him, and women in thesematters of likes and dislikes are shrewder than we are. Perhaps when shehears that he is going, and reads this letter, which I will forwardto her by the carrier, she may come back to me. I certainly miss hersorely, and the household matters go all wrong now that she is away. Sheought not to have said things to me; but no wise man thinks anything ofwhat a woman says when she's angry; and now that I think things over, itcertainly seems to me that she had some sort of warrant for her words.Yes, I certainly don't know what can have come over me, unless it wasthat fellow, Andrew Carson. Richard Anthony has not been considered abad fellow else he would never have become the Mayor of Southampton; andfor fifteen years Mary and I have got on very well together, savefor the little disputes which have arisen from her over masterfuldisposition. But she is a good wife--none could wish for better--thoughshe is given to flame out at what she considers unrighteous dealings;but every woman has her faults, and every man too as far as that goes,and upon the whole few of them have less than Mary. I will write to herat once."
The mayor was not a man to delay when his mind was once made up, andsitting down at a writing desk he wrote as follows:
"DEAR WIFE: I inclose a letter which has come for you from your CousinJack. I opened it, and you will think poorly of me when I tell you thathad it been filled with complaints of me, as I expected, it would nothave come to your hands; for your anger against me is fierce enoughwithout the adding of fresh fuel thereto. But the lad, as you will see,writes in quite another strain, and remembers former kindnesses ratherthan late injuries. His letter has put it into my head to think mattersover, and in a different spirit from that in which I had previouslyregarded it, and I have come to the conclusion that I have actedwrongly; first, that I did not make allowances enough for the boy;second, that I insisted on keeping him to a trade he disliked; third,that I have given too willing an ear to what Andrew Carson has saidagainst the boy; lastly, that I took such means of freeing myself fromhim. I today give Andrew Carson notice to quit my service--a matter inwhich I have hitherto withstood you. I am willing to forget the wordswhich you spoke to me in anger, seeing that there was some foundationfor them, and that when a woman is in a passion her tongue goes furtherthan she means.
"Now, as I am ready to put this on one side, I trust that you also willput aside your anger at my having obtained the pressing for a soldierof your cousin. You can see for yourself by his writing that he does notdesire that any enmity shall arise out of the manner of his going. Forfifteen years we have lived in amity, and I see not why, after thiscloud passes away, we should not do so again.
"I miss you sorely. Things go badly with us since you have gone. Thefood is badly cooked, and the serving indifferent. If you will writeto tell me that you are willing to come back, and to be a lovingand dutiful wife again, I will make me a holiday and come over toBasingstoke to fetch you and Alice home again. I am writing to Jackand sending him five guineas, for which he will no doubt find a use ingetting things suitable for the adventure upon which he is embarked,for the payment of her majesty to her soldiers does not permit of thepurchase of many luxuries. On second thoughts I have resolved to payAndrew Carson his month's wages, and to let him go at once. So that ifyou return you will not find one here against whom you have always beenset, and who is indeed in no small way the author of the matters whichhave come between us, save only as touching the impressment, of whichI own that I must take the blame solely upon myself. Give my love toAlice, and say that she must keep up her spirits, and look forward tothe time when her Cousin Jack shall come back to her after the killingof many Spaniards."
Having signed and carefully sealed this letter, with that from Jackinclosed within it, the mayor then proceeded to write the following tothe young soldier:
"MY DEAR COUSIN JACK: I have read the letter which you sent to my wife,and it is written in a very proper and dutiful strain. Your departurehas caused trouble between my wife and me; but this I hope will passaway after she has read and considered your letter. She carried mattersso far that she is at present with your Cousin Alice at the house ofher parents at Basingstoke. Having read your letter, I write to tellyou that I feel that I am not without blame toward you. I did not seeit myself until the manner of your letter opened my eyes to the fact.I have misunderstood you, and, being bent on carrying out my owninclinations, made not enough allowance for yours. Were you here now Idoubt not that in future we should get on better together; but as thatcannot be, I can only say that I recognize the kind spirit in whichyou wrote, and that I trust that in future we shall be good friends. Iinclose you an order for five guineas on a tradesman in Dover with whomI have dealings. There are many little things that you may want to buyfor your voyage to supplement the pay which you receive. Andrew Carsonis leaving my service. I think that it is he greatly who came betweenus, and has brought things to the pass which I cannot but regret."
A week later the cloth merchant's shop in the High Street was shut up,and the mayor, having appointed a deputy for the week he purposed tobe absent, took his place in the stage for B
asingstoke, when a completereconciliation was effected between him and his wife.
The starting of the expedition was delayed beyond the intended time, forthe government either could not or would not furnish the required funds,and the Earl of Peterborough was obliged to borrow considerable sumsof money, and to involve himself in serious pecuniary embarrassments toremedy the defects, and to supply as far as possible the munition andstores necessary for the efficiency of the little force he had beenappointed to command. It consisted of some three thousand Englishtroops, who were nearly all raw and undisciplined, and a brigade, twothousand strong, of Dutch soldiers.
Early in May the regiment to which Jack Stilwell belonged marchedfor Portsmouth, where the rest of the expedition were assembled, andembarked on board the transports lying at Spithead, and on the 22dof the month set sail for St. Helens, where they were joined on thefollowing day by their general, who embarked with his suit on board theadmiral's ship. On the 24th the fleet sailed for Lisbon.
Fond as Jack was of the sea, he did not find the change an agreeableone. On shore the constant drill and steady work had fully occupiedthe men, and had left them but little time for grumbling. On board shipthings were different. In those days there was but little of the strictdiscipline which is now maintained on board a troop ship. It was truethat the vessels in which the expedition was being carried belonged tothe royal navy; but even here the discipline was but lax. There weremany good sailors on board; but the bulk of the crew had been pressedinto the service as harshly and tyrannically as were the soldiersthemselves, and the grumblers of one class found ready sympathizersamong the others.
The captain was a young man of good family who had obtained hisappointment solely by interest, and who, although he would have foughthis ship bravely in an action with the enemy, took but little interestin the regular work, leaving such matters entirely in the hands of hisfirst lieutenant. The military officers were all new to their work.On shore they had had the support which the presence of a considerablenumber of veteran troops in garrison in the castle gave them; but theynow ceased to struggle against the difficulty of keeping up disciplineamong a large number of raw and insubordinate recruits, relying uponbringing them into order and discipline when they got them ashore in aforeign country. Beyond, therefore, a daily parade, and half an hour'sdrill in the handling of their firelocks, they interfered but littlewith the men.
Sergeant Edwards with twenty of his men had at the last minute,to Jack's great satisfaction, been drafted into the regiment, andaccompanied them on their voyage.
"Ay, they are a rough lot," the sergeant said in answer to anobservation of Jack as to the grumbling of the men after they had beenat sea a few days; "but what can you expect when you take men from theirhomes against their will, pick out the worst characters in each town,make up their number with jail birds, and then pack them off to seabefore they have got into shape? There's nothing tries men more than asea voyage. Here they are packed up as close as herrings, with scarcelyroom to move about, with nothing to do, and with food which a dogwould turn up his nose to eat. Naturally they get talking together, andgrumbling over their wrongs till they work themselves up.
"I wish the voyage was over. It wouldn't matter if we had a good steadyold crew, but more than half of them have been pressed; many of them arelandsmen who have been carried off just as you were. No doubt they wouldall fight toughly enough if a Frenchman hove in view, but the captaincouldn't rely on them in a row on board. As long as the fleet keepstogether it's all right enough. Here are nine vessels, and no one onboard one knows what's going on in the others, but if the captain ofany one of them were to hoist a signal that a mutiny had broken out onboard, the others would be round her with their portholes opened readyto give her a dose of round shot in no time."
"But you don't think that it is really likely that we shall have anytrouble, sergeant?"
"There won't be any trouble if, as I am telling you, the weather holdsfine and the fleet keeps together; but if there's a gale and the shipsget scattered, no one can't say what might come of it."
"I can't think how they could be so mad as to get up a mutiny," Jacksaid; "why, even supposing they did take the ship, what would they dowith it?"
"Them's questions as has been asked before, my lad, and there's senseand reason in them, but you knows as well as I that there's many a craftsailing the seas under the black flag. There isn't a ship as puts to seabut what has half a dozen hands on board who have been in slavers, andwho are full of tales of islands where everything grows without thetrouble of putting a spade in the ground, where all sorts of strangefruit can be had for the picking, and where the natives are glad enoughto be servants or wives, as the case may be, to whites. It's just suchtales as these as leads men away, and I will warrant there's a score atleast among the crew of the Caesar who are telling such tales to any whowill listen to them. Well, you see, it's a tempting story enough to oneas knows no better. On the one side there is a hard life, with bad foodand the chance of being shot at, and the sartainty of being orderedabout and not being able to call your life your own. On the other sideis a life of idleness and pleasure, of being your own master, and, ifyou want something which the islands can't afford you, why, there'sjust a short cruise and then back you come with your ship filled up withplunder. I don't say as it's not tempting; but there's one thing aginit, and the chaps as tells these yarns don't say much about that."
"What is it, sergeant?"
"It's just the certainty of a halter or a bloody grave sooner or later.The thing goes on for some time, and then, when merchant ship aftermerchant ship is missing, there are complaints at home, and out comesa ship or two with the queen's pennant at the head, and then either thepirate ship gets caught at sea and sunk or captured, or there's a visitto the little island, and a short shrift for those found there.
"No, I don't think it can pay, my lad, even at its best. It's jollyenough for awhile, maybe, for those whose hearts are so hard that theythink nothing of scuttling a ship with all on board, or of making thecrew and passengers walk the plank in cold blood. Still even they mustknow that it can't last, and that there's a gallows somewhere waitingfor them. Still, you see, they don't think of all that when a chap isatelling them of these islands, and how pleasant the life is there, andhow easy it would be to do for the officers, and take the command ofthe ship and sail away. Two or three chaps as makes up their mind for itwill poison a whole crew in no time."
"You speak as if you knew all about it."
"I know a good deal about it," the sergeant replied gravely. "It's atale as there ain't many as knows; but you are a sort of lad as one cantrust, and so I don't mind if I tell it you. Though you wouldn't thinkit, I have sailed under the black flag myself."
"You, sergeant!" Jack exclaimed incredulously; "do you mean to say youhave been a pirate?"
"Just that, my boy. I don't look like it, do I? There ain't nothingbuccaneering about my cut. I looks just what I am, a tough old sergeantin a queen's regiment; but for all that I have been a pirate. The yarnis a long one, and I can't tell it you now, because just at present, yousee, I have got to go below to look after the dinners of the company,but the first time as we can get an opportunity for a quiet talk I willtell it you. But don't you go away and think till then as I was a piratefrom choice. I shouldn't like you to think that of me; there ain't neverno saying at sea what may happen. I might tumble overboard tonight andget drowned, or one of the convoy might run foul of us and sink us, andtomorrow you might be alive and I might be dead, and I shouldn't likeyou to go on thinking all your life as that Sergeant Edwards had beena bloody pirate of his own free will. So you just bear in mind, till Itells you the whole story, as how it was forced upon me. Mind, I don'tsay as how I hadn't the choice of death or that, and maybe had you beenin my place you would have chosen death; but, you see, I had never beenbrought up as you were. I had had no chances to speak of, and being onlyjust about your age, I didn't like the thought of dying, so you see Itook to it, making up my mind s
ecret at the same time that the firstchance I had I would slip away from them. I won't tell you more now,I hain't time; but just you bear that in mind, in case of anythinghappening, that if Sergeant Edwards once sailed under the black flag, hedidn't do it willing."
The sergeant now hurried below, leaving Jack wondering over what hehad heard. Some days elapsed before the story was told, for a few hourslater the sky clouded over and the wind rose, and before next morningthe vessel was laboring heavily under double reefed topsails. Thesoldiers were all kept below, and there was no possibility of anythinglike a quiet talk. The weather had hitherto been so fine and the windso light that the vessels had glided over the sea almost without motion,and very few indeed of those on board had experienced anything of theusual seasickness; but now, in the stifling atmosphere between decks,with the vessel rolling and plunging heavily, the greater part were soonprostrate with seasickness, and even Jack, accustomed to the sea as hewas, succumbed to the unpleasantness of the surroundings.
On the second day of the storm Sergeant Edwards, who had been on deck tomake a report to the captain of the company, was eagerly questioned onhis return below on the condition of the weather.
"It's blowing about as hard as it can be," he said, "and she rolls fitto take the masts out of her. There don't seem no chance of the galebreaking, and none of the other ships of the fleet are in sight. That'sabout all I have to tell you, except that I told the captain that ifhe didn't get the hatches lifted a little we should be all stifled downhere. He says if there's a bit of a lull he will ask them to give usa little fresh air, and in the mean time he says that any who are goodsailors may go up on deck, but it will be at their own risk, for some ofthe seas go pretty nearly clean over her."