CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
CONCLUSION.
The last days I spent at Whithyford ought to have been very delightful,for my kind friends vied with each other in making much of me, as ofcourse so did my mother. My father talked of going down to Portsmouthwith me, but he changed his mind.
"No, no," he said, "you know how to take care of yourself; and it is aswell the old boatswain should not come and interfere with you. Godbless you, my boy; go on as you have begun, and you will do well."
And Emily. I am not going to repeat all we said to each other. We werevery young, and I dare say very silly. We exchanged vows, and hoped tomarry when I became a commander, or perhaps, we agreed, it might not beso long; perhaps when I was a lieutenant. Many lieutenants had wives,and though, to be sure, some were not very well off, yet we hoped to bean exception to the general rule, and to have at all events enough tolive upon. Thus, full of love and hope, I started away for Portsmouth.I was quickly on board the "Pearl". The First-Lieutenant, Mr Duff, wasa man after Captain Schank's own heart--a thorough tar, and under him,doffing my midshipman's uniform, I was speedily engaged with amarline-spike slung round my neck, and a lump of grease in one hand,setting up the lower rigging. The brig was soon fitted for sea.Oldershaw joined her as Second-Lieutenant. My two other friends TomTwig and Dicky Esse were glad to go to sea again with Captain Schank. Ialso fell in with Toby Kiddle and Pat Brady at Portsmouth. I persuadedboth to join, Toby being rated as a quarter-master, and Pat as captainof the foretop.
"You see, Mister Burton," he observed, with a wink, "I can now writehome to Ballybruree to tell them I have been made a captain; and sureit's the truth, and it will help to raise the family in the estimationof the neighbours, and may be they will think one captain as good asanother."
I confess that I should have preferred being in a rattling frigate; andyet we had brave hearts on board the brig, and hoped at all events to dosomething in her. We were ordered out to the North American station,and then to proceed on to the West Indies. It used to be thought, inthose days, a good thing to give ships' companies the advantage of a hotand cold climate alternately. The cold was to drive away the yellowfever, and the heat to cure us of frostbites, to which we might besubjected at Halifax or up the Saint Lawrence. We preferred, on thewhole, the West Indies, for, being constantly at sea, we had not muchsickness on board. We took a good many of the enemy's merchant vessels,which struck without offering much resistance; but, though they assistedto fill our pockets, we gained little honour, or glory, or a chance ofpromotion. We had been, indeed, a year and a half on the stationwithout exchanging a shot with the enemy. At length, when off the eastend of Jamaica, while we were on the starboard tack, a strange ship wasdiscovered steering under easy sail on the opposite tack. What she waswe could not make out. She was considerably larger than we were, butstill Captain Schank determined, should she be an enemy, to attack her.About an hour before noon she passed to leeward of us, and almost withingun-shot. We made a private signal. It was not answered.
"About ship!" cried the Captain, and away we stood in chase. In about acouple of hours we were within gun-shot. Our bow gun was fired andreturned by the enemy's stern chaser. She then hoisted French coloursand set more sail, edging away to the southward. At length we got upabreast of her, and brought her to close action. She, however, foughtwell, and we soon had our braces, bowlines, and tiller-ropes shot away.The enemy, now expecting to make us an easy prize, ran us aboard.
"Boarders away!" cried Captain Schank. The Captain's wooden legpreventing him from getting on board the enemy as rapidly as he wished,Mr Duff led our men. Scarcely, however, had he reached the ship's deckwhen a pistol bullet through his head laid him low. I was close behindhim. Oldershaw was bringing on a fresh set of boarders.
"On, lads, on!" shouted Oldershaw. We swept the enemy before us, and,though they made a stout resistance, in ten minutes we had killed, ordriven below or overboard, the greater part of the crew. The remainder,who had escaped aft, threw down their arms and cried for quarter. Ourprize mounted twenty-four guns, and the crew amounted to upwards of twohundred men. Two days afterwards we were entering Kingston Harbour withher in triumph. Oldershaw was appointed First-Lieutenant of the brig,and I received an order as her Second-Lieutenant. Soon after this, wewere ordered to proceed, with three ships of the line and two frigates,in search of a French squadron, which had been committing depredationson the African coast, and had just been heard of in the neighbourhood ofthe West Indies. We were delayed by a hurricane which raged over thoseseas. Fortunately we were in harbour, but some of the ships which wereoutside suffered greatly. However, as Toby Kiddle observed, "What issauce for the goose is sauce for the gander," and we could only hopethat the enemy had suffered in the same way. At length, after cruisingfor some time, we, being ahead, discovered a frigate, which, from thecut of her sails, we had little doubt was French. Signalling to ourconsorts, we gave chase, keeping considerably ahead of all the rest. Inabout two hours we had got within two miles of the chase, and as weapproached still nearer we commenced firing our bow guns. The Frenchfrigate, hoisting her colours, returned our fire with her stern chasers.We now shortened sail.
"If we get much nearer," said Captain Schank, "she may send us to thebottom with one of her broadsides; but at this distance we may crippleher and prevent her escaping." The nearest English frigate was by thistime about three miles astern of us. Already the Frenchman had cut upour rigging a good deal, and at length one of her shots struck our bowbetween wind and water. It was quickly plugged, and we continued atsome distance firing away, our shot every now and then striking theenemy, but what damage we had done we could not ascertain. The leadingfrigate was a very fast one, and was now rapidly coming up. We, Iconfess, were anxiously looking out for her, for, although prudencemight have forbade us getting nearer the enemy, our eagerness to stopher would have made us run every risk to effect that object. At lengththe English frigate got within gun-shot of the enemy. She opened firewith her bow chasers. Down came the Frenchman's flag, when once more wemade sail and hove to close to the prize. Captain Schank ordered me toproceed on board and take possession. I felt, I must confess, almost assurprised as a mouse would do at conquering a lion. The French captain,however, with becoming politeness though with somewhat a wry face,presented me with his sword, and we found ourselves in possession of aforty-four gun frigate, measuring upwards of one thousand tons, and acrew of three hundred and fifty men. Besides Frenchmen, there were onboard several Englishmen, who formed part of the crew of an Indiaman thefrigate had captured two days before. Among them were the second andthird officers. The Indiaman had been overtaken at night, and theFrench ship had fired into her, and killed the captain and first officerand a number of the crew. The passengers who were below had happilyescaped. The Indiaman's officers, thorough gentlemanly young fellows,told me that they had only lost sight of the prize the day before, thatshe was a slow sailer, and from the direction in which she was standing,they had little doubt in what direction we should find her. Therecaptured prisoners also told us whereabouts we should fall in with theremainder of the French squadron.
We accordingly sent one of the Indiaman's officers on board the frigate,while Captain Schank received orders from the Commodore to proceed insearch of the Indiaman. Scarcely had we lost sight of our squadron,which was standing in the direction the Frenchmen were supposed to be,when it came on to blow from the north-west. The wind rapidly increasedtill it became a downright heavy gale. Our brig, however, was a finesea-boat, and under close-reefed topsails rode it out bravely. Ourchief anxiety was, however, on account of the risk we ran of losing theIndiaman. Still the mate was convinced that she could not have passedto the northward of where we then were.
"She will be standing on the larboard tack, Captain Schank," heobserved; "if she sees all clear she will run through the Gut ofGibraltar, or if not, will make for some port in the Bay of Biscay."
However, as
the Atlantic is a broad highway, our hopes of falling inwith her were far from sanguine. For three days we lay hove to, till atlength the gale moderating we once more made sail and stood to theeastward. A bright look-out was kept for the sight of a sail, and fromsunrise to sunset volunteers were continually going aloft, in the hopesof being the first to see the wished-for ship. Next morning, when itwas my watch on deck, I heard a voice from the maintopmast headshouting:
"A dismasted ship on the weather-beam not four miles away."
I sent Esse, who was midshipman of the watch, aloft, and he corroboratedPat Brady's statement.
Sending below to call the Captain, I kept the brig away in the directionof the ship. The sea was still running very high. As daylightincreased, we could see her clearly rolling in the trough of the sea,and in an utterly helpless condition. For some time the mate could nottell whether it was his own ship or not.
"Too likely," he observed, "for the Frenchman's shot had wounded some ofour masts, and she very probably lost them in the late gale."
Captain Schank and all the officers were quickly on deck, as were thecrew, and all eyes were turned to the wreck. As we drew near, we wereleft in no doubt of her being a large Indiaman; and Mr Paul, the mate,soon recognised her as the "Yarmouth Castle," to which he had belonged.The signal of distress was flying on the stump of her mizzen-mast. Aswe drew near, we discovered that the gale had otherwise severely handledher. Most of her boats were gone, and her bulwarks stove in, probablywhen the masts were carried away. As we passed a short distance towindward of her, a person ran to the side with a large board, on whichwas chalked, "Keep by us! Sprung a leak! Pumps choked! Captured byFrenchmen!"
"Ay, ay," shouted Captain Schank, and his voice borne down by the windprobably reached them. As we passed, several people rushed up to theman who had shown the board, and tore it out of his hands. This showedus that we must be careful when going alongside, lest the Frenchmenshould attempt to beat us back. The difficulty of communicating withthe ship was still very great, for the sea continued high and broken,and she rolled very much. We accordingly wore round and hove to at alittle distance, intending to wait till the sea should go down.
The mate told us that there were a great many of the English crew andLascars left on board, and he thought, should they make the attempt,they would be able to retake the ship from the Frenchmen. No attemptwas made, however, and at length, the weather moderating, a boat, ofwhich I took the command, was lowered, the brig being sufficiently nearat the time to fire into her, should the French prize crew offer anyresistance.
What was taking place on board the Indiaman we could not see, but justas we got alongside several people appeared and hove ropes to us, andassisted me with four of my men to get on board. I observed, as Ireached the deck, that a scuffle was taking place forward, and I thenfound that the passengers and some of the crew had suddenly attacked theFrenchmen, who, it appeared, had intended manning their guns in thehopes of beating off the brig. Our appearance quickly gave an easyvictory to our friends. The superior officers of the Indiaman had allbeen taken out of her. The carpenter, however, was on board, and toldme he hoped, if the pumps could be cleared and properly worked, that theleak could be kept under. A richly-laden Indiaman was indeed a prizeworth recovering. The passengers had nearly all remained on board, andexpressed their gratitude for the timely succour which had been affordedthem. The Frenchmen, finding that all hope of carrying off their prizewas gone, yielded themselves prisoners; their commanding officer, whohad, with his men, been driven forward, delivering up his sword to me.I sent the boat with Dicky Esse back to tell Captain Schank that Ithought, with some thirty of our hands in addition to the ship's crewwhom we had on board, to be able to keep the pumps going, and to rigjury-masts by which the ship might be safely carried to England. Amongthe passengers a gentleman was pointed out to me who had been veryactive in retaking the ship from the hands of the Frenchmen. I inquiredhis name. "Mr Bramston," was the answer.
"How strange," I thought: "and is Mrs Bramston on board?"
"Yes, sir, she is, but she is very ill, and has constantly kept hercabin."
"Have they any children?" I asked.
"No, none, sir," said a lady who overheard the question. "Poor lady,she once had a daughter, a little girl, who was lost in a very sad way,and I do not think she has ever recovered that event."
As may be supposed I could not then ask further questions, as my entireattention was required for the duty of the ship. I asked Kiddle, whoaccompanied me on board, what he thought of the weather.
"It's moderating, sir, and I hope we shall be able to keep the shipafloat if we get more assistance."
The sea rapidly went down, and the men I asked for were sent on board.The pumps were again speedily set going, and as the ship laboured lesswe began to gain upon the leak. Fortunately there was a good supply ofspars on board, and I hoped, should the weather continue moderate, to beable to rig jury-masts the following day. We worked hard tillnightfall, most of the Frenchmen giving their assistance at the pumps.Indeed, had we not fallen in with them, the probabilities are that theship would have gone down; so that they owed their lives to us, althoughthey were not well-pleased at being made prisoners. I now for the firsttime was able to enter the cuddy. Coming off the dark deck, I wasstruck by the bright light of the cabin, the tables glittering withplate and glass set for supper, well secured, as may be supposed, by thefiddles, a number of passengers, ladies and gentlemen, being collectedround them. They greeted me warmly, and numerous questions were put tome as to the probability of the ship's reaching home in safety. Iassured them that I hoped in the course of a week or so, if the wind wasfavourable, that we might find ourselves in the Chops of the Channel."Although," I added, "you know the chances of war, but I promise youthat our brig will stick by you and fight to the last for yourprotection."
I was not sorry to take my seat at table among them, as I had eatennothing for some hours. The gentlemen all begged to take wine with me,and assured me they believed that, had we not fallen in with them, theship would have gone down. When Mr Bramston addressed me, I repliedthat I knew his name, and asked if he came from Ceylon.
"Yes," he answered, "I have been there for many years."
I then told him that my commander, Captain Schank, had some time beforewritten to him on an important matter, and asked whether he had receivedthe letter.
"Yes," he answered, "just before I left India, and I will speak to youby-and-by on that matter."
After supper he took me aside, and begged to know further particulars ofthe death of Mr Herbert. "Though," he remarked, "that was not the nameby which you knew him."
"Well," he said, after I had told him, "the less his poor daughter knowsof these painful circumstances the better. I am now returning with her,and, I am thankful to say, her health has already benefited by thevoyage. I trust the meeting with her mother will have a beneficialeffect on her."
"I am sure it will on Mrs Lindars," I observed: "her great wish was,that should her daughter have been taken away, she might have left somechildren on whom she might bestow her long pent-up affection."
"Alas!" said Mr Bramston, "our one only child, a little daughter, wastaken from us at an early age in a very sad way. Mrs Bramston had beenvery ill, and had been advised to proceed to Madras for change of air.An old naval friend offered her and me a passage, and I accordinglyhurried on board, leaving our child under the charge of a friend atColombo. I returned as soon as possible, and finding my wife yearningfor her little one, I resolved to send her to her. A dhow was on thepoint of sailing, in which several friends had taken a passage. Icommitted our child and nurse to their charge. The dhow never reachedher destination, and we have every reason to believe that she founderedwith all on board."
"That is indeed strange!" I said aloud. I stopped, for I was afraid ofraising hopes in the heart of the father which might be disappointed.He heard me.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"In the month of July, in the year ---," he said.
"That is indeed wonderful," I exclaimed, scarcely able to restrain myfeelings. "I was a child at the time," I said, "but I was on board afrigate, which fell in with the wreck of a dhow. The only people aliveon board were an Indian nurse and a child--a little girl. The nursedied; but the child was taken care of by my mother, and is now under theprotection of the family of the commander of the brig to which I belong,Captain Schank, the officer who wrote to you on the subject of MrHerbert's death."
"God be praised!" exclaimed Mr Bramston. "I cannot have the shadow ofa doubt that the little girl who was picked up by your frigate was mydaughter."
"By-the-by, I have a man with me who was on board the `Boreas' at thetime, and he can tell you even more than I can," I remarked.
Mr Bramston was eager to see him. I sent for Kiddle. He corroboratedmy account, adding further particulars, which left no doubt whatever onthe mind of Mr Bramston that the Little Lady--my Emily--was hisdaughter.
"And is she a pretty child? Can you give me an idea of her size andappearance?"
"Yes, she is, sir, indeed, very pretty; but you must remember she is nolonger a child; she is a young lady," I answered, feeling that my voicewas very likely to betray my feelings.
"I long to see her," exclaimed Mr Bramston. "But I must break thetidings gently to her mother, or the sudden joy may be too much forher."
We were busily employed all the next day getting up jury-masts, and nottill the next evening was I able to go into the cabin. I was thenintroduced to Mrs Bramston. I found that she was somewhat prepared forthe narration I had to give her. The moment I saw her I was convincedthat Emily was her daughter, for the likeness was very striking. Well,I must cut my yarn short. Having rigged jury-masts we made sail, and,the wind coming to the southward, steered a course for England. Thebrig kept cruising about us like a vigilant sheep-dog, ready to dobattle with any who might interfere with his charge. At length Englandwas reached, and getting leave, I accompanied my new-found friends toWhithyford. I will not describe the meeting of the mother and herchild, and the elder child and her mother. One thing only made meunhappy. I dreaded lest Mr Bramston, who I found had made a largefortune in India, should object to his daughter marrying a poorlieutenant of no family. I could not bear suspense, and so Emily and Itold him that we were engaged, and she added that she should break herheart if she were not allowed to marry me. Mr Bramston smiled.
"You are rather young to think of such matters now," he said, "but whenmy friend here becomes a commander, if you are still in the same mind, Ipromise you that neither your mother nor I will object."
In the course of two years I did become a commander. We were in thesame mind and married. I stuck to my profession, however, was posted,got the command of a dashing frigate, in which I did good service to mycountry, and am now a KCB with my flag in prospect.
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