Snarleyyow, or, the Dog Fiend

by Frederick Marryat

  Chapter IX

  A long chapter, in which there is lamentation, singing, bibbing, anddancing.

  It may readily be supposed, that the first question asked by MrVanslyperken, on his gaining the quarter-deck, was, if Snarleyyow wereon board. He was received with the military salute of Corporal VanSpitter, for Obadiah Coble, having been left commanding officer, hadgiven himself leave, and, with a few men, had joined Dick Short and thefirst party at the Lust Haus, leaving the corporal as the next seniorofficer in charge. The answer in the negative was a great mortificationto Mr Vanslyperken, and he descended to his cabin in no very goodhumour, and summoned Smallbones. But before Smallbones was summoned, hehad time to whisper to one or two of the conspirators--"_He's gone_." Itwas enough; in less than a minute the whisper was passed throughout thecutter. "He's gone," was sibilated above and below, until it met theears of even Corporal Van Spitter, who had it from a marine, who had itfrom another marine, who had it from a seaman, who--but it was, however,soon traced up to Smallbones by the indefatigable corporal--whoconsidered it his duty to report the report to Mr Vanslyperken.Accordingly he descended to the cabin and knocked for admission.

  In the meantime Vanslyperken had been venting his ill-humour uponSmallbones, having, as he took off from his person, and replaced in hisdrawers, his unusual finery, administered an unusual quantity of kicks,as well as a severe blow on the head with his sheathed cutlass to theunfortunate lad, who repeated to himself, by way of consolation, themagic words--"_He's gone_."

  "If you please, sir," said Corporal Van Spitter, "I've discovered fromthe ship's company that the dog _is gone_."

  "I know that, corporal," replied Vanslyperken.

  "And, sir, the report has been traced to Smallbones."

  "Indeed!--then it was you that said that the dog is gone--now, youvillain, where is he?"

  "If you please, I did say that the dog was gone, and so he is; but Ididn't say that I knew where he was--no more I don't. He's runned away,and he'll be back to-morrow--I'm sure he will."

  "Corporal Van Spitter, if the dog is not on board again by eight o'clockto-morrow morning, you will get all ready for keel-hauling thisscoundrel."

  "Yes, mynheer," replied the corporal, delighted at having something todo in the way of punishment.

  Smallbones made up a lachrymal face.

  "It's very hard," said he; "suppose the dog has fallen into the canal,is that my fault? If he's a-gone to the bottom of the canal, that's noreason why I'm to be dragged under the bottom of the cutter."

  "Yes, yes," replied Vanslyperken, "I'll teach you to throw paving-stonesoff the wharf. Leave the cabin, sir."

  Smallbones, whose guilty conscience flew into his pallid face at themention of the paving-stones, immediately made a hasty retreat; andVanslyperken turned into his bed and dreamt of vengeance.

  We must now return to the Lust Haus, and the party on shore; and ourfirst task must be, to give the reader an idea of what a Lust Haus maybe. It is, as its name imports, a resort for pleasure and amusement; andin this respect the Dutch are certainly very much in advance of theEnglish, who have, in the pot-houses and low inns resorted to by seamen,no accommodation of the kind. There is barely room for Jack to foot itin a reel, the tap-room is so small; and as Jack is soon reeling afterhe is once on shore, it is a very great defect. Now, the Lust Haus is aroom as large as an assembly-room in a country-town, well lighted upwith lamps and chandeliers, well warmed with stoves, where you have roomto dance fifty reels at once, and still have plenty of accommodation atthe chairs and tables ranged round on each side. At the end of the roomis a raised chair, with a protecting railing, on which the musicians, tothe number of seven or eight, are posted, and they continue during theevening to play when requested. The people of the Lust Haus furnish wineand spirits of every description, while cakes, nuts, walnuts, oranges,&c, are supplied from the baskets of numerous young women who hand themround, and press their customers to purchase. Police officerssuperintend these resorts to remove those who are violent, and interferewith the amusements of others. On the whole, it is a very gay scene, andis resorted to by seamen of all nations, with a sprinkling of those whoare not sailors, but who like amusement, and there are plenty of femaleswho are ready to dance with them, and to share their beer or grog. Be itfurther known, that there is a great deal of decorum in a Lust Haus,particularly among the latter sex; and altogether it is infinitely morerational and less debasing, than the low pot-houses of Portsmouthor Plymouth.

  Such was the place of amusement kept by the Frau Vandersloosh, and inthis large room had been seated, for some hours, Dick Short, Coble,Jansen, Jemmy Ducks, and some others of the crew of his Majesty's cutter_Yungfrau_.

  The room was now full, but not crowded, it was too spacious well to beso. Some sixteen couples were dancing a quadrille to a lively tuneplayed by the band, and among the dancers were to be seen old women, andchildren of ten or twelve: for it was not considered improper to be seendancing at this humble assembly, and the neighbours frequently came in.The small tables and numerous chairs round the room were nearly allfilled, beer was foaming from the mouths of the opened bottles, andthere was the ringing of the glasses as they pledged each other. Atseveral tables were assemblages of Dutch seamen, who smoked with all thephlegm of their nation, as they gravely looked upon the dancers. Atanother were to be seen some American seamen, scrupulously neat in theirattire, and with an air _distinguee_, from the superiority of theireducation, and all of them quiet and sober. The basket-women flittedabout displaying their stores, and invited every one to purchase fruit,and particularly hard-boiled eggs, which they had brought in at thishour, when those who dined at one might be expected to be hungry.Sailors' wives were also there, and perhaps some who could not producethe marriage certificates; but as these were not asked for at the door,it was of no consequence. About the centre of the room, at two smalltables joined together, were to be seen the party from the _Yungfrau_:some were drinking beer, some grog, and Jemmy Ducks was perched on thetable, with his fiddle as usual held like a bass viol. He was known bythose who frequented the house by the name of the Manikin, and was auniversal object of admiration and good-will. The quadrille was ended,and the music stopped playing.

  "Come now," said Coble, tossing off his glass, "spell oh!--let's have asong while they take their breath. Jemmy, strike up."

  "Hurrah for a song!" cries Jemmy. "Here goes."

  Jemmy then tuned one string of his fiddle, which was a little out, andaccompanying his voice, sang as follows: all those who were presentimmediately keeping silence, for they were used to Jemmy's melody.

  Twas on the twenty-fourth of June, I sailed away to sea, I turned my pockets in the lap of Susan on my knee; Says I, my dear, 'tis all I have, I wish that it was more, It can't be helped, says Susan then, you know we've spent galore.

  You know we've spent galore, my Bill, And merry have been we, Again you must your pockets fill, For Susan on your knee.

  "Chorus, my boys--"

  For Susan on my knee, my boys, With Susan on my knee.

  The gale came on in thunder, lads, in lightning, and in foam, Before that we had sail'd away three hundred miles from home; And on the Sunday morning, lads, the coast was on our lee, Oh, then I thought of Portsmouth, and of Susan on my knee.

  For howling winds and waves to boot, With black rocks on the lee, Did not so well my fancy suit, As Susan on my knee.

  _Chorus_.--With Susan on my knee, my boys, With Susan on my knee.

  Next morning we were cast away upon the Frenchman's shore, We saved our lives, but not our all, for we could save no more; They marched us to a prison, so we lost our liberty, I peeped between the bars, and sighed for Susan on my knee.

  For bread so black, and wine so sour, And a son a-day to me, Made me long ten times an hour, For Susan
on my knee.

  _Chorus_--For Susan on my knee, my boys, For Susan on my knee.

  One night we smashed our jailer's skull and off our boat did steer, And in the offing were picked up by a jolly privateer; We sailed in her the cruise, my boys, and prizes did take we, I'll be at Portsmouth soon, thinks I, with Susan on my knee.

  We shared three hundred pounds a man, I made all sail with glee, Again I danced and tossed my can, With Susan on my knee.

  _Chorus_.--With Susan on my knee, my boys, With Susan on my knee.

  "That's prime, Jemmy. Now, my boys, all together," cried Obadiah Coble.

  _Chorus_.--Very good song, and very well sung, Jolly companions every one; We are all here for mirth and glee, We are all here for jollity. Very good song, and very well sung, Jolly companions every one; Put your hats on to keep your heads warm, A little more grog will do us no harm.

  "Hurrah! now, Bill Spurey, suppose you tip us a stave. But I say,Babette, you Dutch-built galliot, tell old Frank Slush to send usanother dose of the stuff; and d'ye hear, a short pipe for me, and apaper o' baccy."

  The short, fat Babette, whose proportions all the exercise of waitingupon the customers could not reduce, knew quite enough English torequire no further explanation.

  "Come, Jemmy, my hearty, take your fingers off your fiddle, and hand inyour pot," continued Coble; "and then if they are not going to dance,we'll have another song. Bill Spurey, wet your whistle, and just clearthe cobwebs out of your throat. Here's more 'baccy, Short."

  Short made no reply, but he shook out the ashes and filled his pipe. Themusic did not strike up again, so Bill Spurey sang as follows:--

  Says the parson one day, as I cursed a Jew, Do you know, my lad, that we call it a sin? I fear of you sailors there are but few, St Peter, to heaven, will ever let in. Says I, Mr Parson, to tell you my mind, No sailors to knock were ever yet seen, Those who travel by land may steer 'gainst wind, But we shape a course for Fidler's Green.

  For Fidler's Green, where seamen true, When here they've done their duty, The bowl of grog shall still renew And pledge to love and beauty.

  Says the parson, I hear you've married three wives, Now do you not know, that that is a sin? You sailors, you lead such very bad lives, St Peter, to heaven, will ne'er let you in Parson, says I, in each port I've but _one_, And never had more, wherever I've been; Below I'm obliged to be chaste as a nun, But I'm promised a dozen at Fidler's Green.

  At Fidler's Green, where seamen true, When here they've done their duty, The bowl of grog shall still renew, And pledge to love and beauty.

  Says the parson, says he, you're drunk, my man, And do you not know that that is a sin? If you sailors will ever be swigging your can, To heaven you surely will never get in. (_Hiccup_.) Parson, you may as well be mum, 'Tis only on shore I'm this way seen; But oceans of punch, and rivers of rum, Await the sailor at Fidler's Green.

  At Fidler's Green, where seamen true, When here they've done their duty, The bowl of grog shall still renew, And pledge to love and beauty.

  "Well reeled off, Billy," cried Jemmy Ducks, finishing with a flourishon his fiddle, and a refrain of the air. I don't think we shall meet_him_ and his dog at Fidler's Green--heh!"

  "No," replied Short, taking his pipe from his lip.

  "No, no, Jemmy, a seaman true means one true in heart as well as inknowledge; but, like a blind fiddler, he'll be led by his dogsomewhere else."

  "From vere de dog did come from," observed Jansen.

  The band now struck up again, and played a waltz--a dance new to ourcountry, but older than the heptarchy. Jansen, with his pipe in hismouth, took one of the women by the waist, and steered round the roomabout as leisurely as a capstern heaving up. Dick Short also tookanother, made four turns, reeled up against a Dutchman who was doing itwith _sang froid_, and then suddenly left his partner and dropped intohis chair.

  "I say, Jemmy," said Obadiah Coble, "why don't you give a girl a twistround?"

  "Because I can't, Oby; my compasses arn't long enough to describe acircle. You and I are better here, old boy. I, because I've very littlelegs, and you, because you havn't a leg to stand upon."

  "Very true--not quite so young as I was forty years ago. Howsomever Imean this to be my last vessel. I shall bear up for one of the Londondock-yards as a rigger."

  "Yes, that'll do; only keep clear of the girt-lines, you're too stifffor that."

  "No, that would not exactly tell; I shall pick my own work, and that'swhere I can bring my tarry trousers to an anchor--mousing the mainstay,or puddening the anchor, with the best of any. Dick, lend us a bitof 'baccy."

  Short pulled out his box without saying a word. Coble took a quid, andShort thrust the box again into his pocket.

  In the meantime the waltz continued, and being a favourite dance, therewere about fifty couples going round and round the room. Such was thevariety in the dress, country, language, and appearance of the partiescollected, that you might have imagined it a masquerade. It was,however, getting late, and Frau Vandersloosh had received the intimationof the people of the police who superintend these resorts, that it wasthe time for shutting up; so that, although the widow was sorry on herown account to disperse so merry and so thirsty a party as they were nowbecoming, so soon as the waltz was ended the musicians packed up theirinstruments and departed.

  This was a signal for many, but by no means for all, to depart; formusic being over, and the house doors closed, a few who remained,provided they made no disturbance, were not interfered with by thepolice. Among those who stayed were the party from the _Yungfrau_, oneor two American, and some Prussian sailors. Having closed up together,

  "Come," cried Jemmy, "now that we are quiet again, let's have anothersong; and who is it to be--Dick Short?"

  "Short, my boy, come, you must sing."

  "No," replied Short.

  "Yes, yes--one verse," said Spurey.

  "He never sings more," replied Jemmy Ducks, "so he must give us that.Come, Short."

  "Yes," replied Short, taking the pipe out of his mouth, and wetting hislips with the grog.

  _Short_ stay apeak was the anchor, We had but a _short_ minute more, In _short_, I no longer could banker, For _short_ was the cash in my store. I gave one _short_ look, As Poll heaved a _short_ sigh One _short_ hug I took, _Short_ the matter cut I, And off I went to sea.

  "Go on, Dick."

  "No," replied Short, resuming his pipe.

  "Well, then, chorus, my boys."

  Very good song, and very well sung, Jolly companions every one; We all are here for mirth and glee, We all are here for jollity. Very good song, and very well sung, Jolly companions every one; Put your hats on, and keep your heads warm, A little more liquor will do us no harm.

  "Now then, Jemmy Ducks, it's round to you again. Strike up, fiddle andall."

  "Well, here goes," said Jemmy Ducks.

  The captain stood on the carronade--first lieutenant, says he, Send all my merry men aft here, for they must list to me: I havn't the gift of the gab, my sons--because I'm bred to the sea, That ship there is a Frenchman, who means to fight with we. Odds blood, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea, I've fought 'gainst every odds--but I've gained the victory.

  That ship there is a Frenchman, and if we don't take _she,_ 'Tis a thousand bullets to one, that she will capture _me_; I havn't the gift of the gab, my boys, so each man to his gun, If she's not mine in half an hour, I'll flog each mother's son. Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea, I've
fought 'gainst every odds--and I've gained the victory.

  We fought for twenty minutes, when the Frenchman had enough, I little thought, said he, that your men were of such stuff; The captain took the Frenchman's sword, a low bow made to he, I havn't the gift of the gab, Mounsieur, but polite I wish to be. Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea, I've fought 'gainst every odds--and I've gained the victory.

  Our captain sent for all of us; my merry men, said he, I havn't the gift of the gab, my lads, but yet I thankful be; You've done your duty handsomely, each man stood to his gun, If you hadn't, you villains, as sure as day, I'd have flogged each mother's son. Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, as long as I'm at sea, I'll fight 'gainst every odds--and I'll gain the victory.

  _Chorus_--Very good song, and very well sung, Jolly companions every one; We all are here for mirth and glee, We all are here for jollity. Very good song, and very well sung, Jolly companions every one; Put your hats on to keep your heads warm, A little more grog will do us no harm.

  "Now, Coble, we must have yours," said Jemmy Ducks.

  "Mine! well, if you please: but half my notes are stranded. You'll thinkthat Snarleyyow is baying the moon: howsomever, take it as it is."

  Oh, what's the use of piping, boys, I never yet could larn, The good of water from the eyes I never could disarn; Salt water we have sure enough without our pumping more, So let us leave all crying to the girls we leave on shore.

  They may pump, As in we jump To the boat, and say, "Good-bye;" But as for men, Why, I say again, That crying's all my eye.

  I went to school when quite a boy, and never larnt to read, The master tried both head and tail--at last it was agreed No larning he could force in me, so they sent me off to sea, My mother wept and wrung her hands, and cried most bitterly.

  So she did pump, As I did jump In the boat, and said, "Good-bye;" But as for me, Who was sent to sea, To cry was all my eye.

  I courted Poll, a buxom lass; when I returned A B, I bought her ear-rings, hat, and shawl, a sixpence did break we; At last 'twas time to be on board, so, Poll, says I, farewell; She roared and said, that leaving her was like a funeral knell.

  So she did pump, As I did jump In the boat, and said, "Good-bye;" But as for me With the rate A B, To cry was all my eye.

  I soon went back, I shoved on shore, and Polly I did meet, For she was watching on the shore, her sweetheart for to greet, She threw her arms around me then, and much to my surprise, She vowed she was so happy that she pumped with both her eyes.

  So she did pump, As I did jump To kiss her lovingly, But, I say again, That as for men, Crying is all my eye.

  Then push the can around, my boys, and let us merry be; We'll rig the pumps if a leak we spring, and work most merrily: Salt water we have sure enough, we'll add not to its store, But drink, and laugh, and sing and chat, and call again for more.

  The girls may pump, As in we jump To the boat, and say, "Good-bye;" But as for we, Who sailors be, Crying is all my eye.

  "Bravo, Obadiah! now one more song, and then we'll aboard. It won't doto bowse your jib up too tight here," said Jemmy; "for it's ratherdangerous navigation among all these canals--no room for yawing."

  "No," replied Dick Short.

  "Then," said Jemmy, jumping off the table with his fiddle in his hand,"let's have the roarer by way of a finish--what d'ye say, my hearties?"

  Up they all rose, and gathered together in the centre of the room, saveJemmy Ducks, who, flourishing with his fiddle, commenced.

  Jack's alive and a merry dog, When he gets on shore, He calls for his glass of grog, He drinks, and he calls for more. So drink, and call for what you please, Until you've had your whack, boys; We think no more of raging seas, Now that we've come back, boys.

  "Chorus, now--"

  With a _whip, snip_, high cum diddledy, The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling; _Smack, crack_--this is our jubilee; Huzza, my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.

  All the seamen joined in the chorus, which they accompanied both withtheir hands and feet, snapping their fingers at _whip_ and _snip_, andsmacking their hands at _smack_ and _crack_, while they danced round inthe most grotesque manner, to Jemmy's fiddle and voice; the chorus endedin loud laughter, for they had now proved the words of the song to betrue, and were all alive and merry. According to the rules of the song,Jemmy now called out for the next singer, Coble.

  Jack's alive and merry, my boys, When he's on blue water, In the battle's rage and noise, And the main-deck slaughter. So drink and call for what you please, Until you've had your whack, boys; We'll think no more or angry seas, Until that we go back, boys.

  _Chorus_.--With a _whip, snip_, high cum diddledy, The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling; _Smack, crack_--this is our jubilee; Huzza my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.

  Jansen and Jemmy Ducks, after the dancing chorus had finished,

  Yack alive and merry, my boys, Ven he get him _frau_, And he vid her ringlet toys, As he take her paw. So drink, and call for vat you please. Until you hab your vack, boys; Ve'll think no more of angry seas, Till ve standen back, boys.

  Chorus and laughter

  With a _whip, snip_, high cum diddledy, The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling; _Smack, crack_--this is our jubilee; Huzza, my lads, we'll keep the pot boiling.

  Bill Spurey--

  Jack's alive and merry, boys, When he's got the shiners; Heh! for rattle, fun, and noise, Hang all grumbling whiners. Then drink, and call for what you please, Until you've had your whack, boys; We think no more of raging seas, Now that we've come back, boys.

  _Chorus_.--With a _whip, snip_, high cum diddledy, The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling; _Smack, crack_--this is our jubilee; Huzza, my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.

  "Dick Short must sing."

  "Yes," replied Dick.

  Jack's alive and full of fun, When his hulk is crazy, As he basks in Greenwich sun, Jolly still though lazy. So drink, and call for what you please, Until you've had your whack, boys; We'll think no more of raging seas, Now that we've come back, boys.

  _Chorus_.--With a _whip, snip_, high cum diddledy, The cog-wheels of life have need of much oiling; _Smack, crack_--this is our jubilee; Huzza, my lads! we'll keep the pot boiling.

  As this was the last chorus, it was repeated three or four times, andwith hallooing, screaming, and dancing in mad gesticulation.

  "Hurrah, my lads," cried Jemmy, "three cheers and a bravo."

  It was high time that they went on board; so thought Frau Vandersloosh,who trembled for her chandeliers; so thought Babette, who had begun toyawn before the last song, and who had tired herself more with laughingat it; so thought they all, and they sallied forth out of the Lust Haus,with Jemmy Ducks having the advance, and fiddling to them the whole waydown to the boat. Fortunately, not one of them fell into the canal, andin ten minutes they were all on board; they were not, however, permittedto turn into their hamm
ocks without the important information beingimparted to them, that Snarleyyow had disappeared.