And so I left quietly, unlocking the door, pulling it shut silently after me. Then down the stairs and into a kind of sitting room that I had bare noticed when we arrived the night before. The George, as it was called, was a large inn, with a floor above our own and as many rooms as one would find in one of the grand inns of London. I wandered about the sitting room and found the clock easily enough, a great standing thing taller than myself.
“Well, young sir, you are an early riser.”
It was then, standing before the clock, I saw that it was but half past six.
The gentleman who had spoken, surely the innkeeper himself, was a healthy-looking fellow with a round belly and a rubicund face. He had in hand a large tray upon which he gathered glasses and bottles which littered the sitting room and beyond.
“I had not known it was quite so early, ” said I.
“Nothing to be ashamed of,” said he. “I’m the early riser in my family. My son closes up at night, sells spirits and wine to all the young lieutenants who drink the clock around. Since I’m up at five, no matter what, I do the tidying up. But you —what about you? What brings you down so early?”
I gave that some thought.” Since it is to me falls the job of building the stove fire each morning in our household,” said I, “then I must be accustomed to it so that I wake at six, no matter where or what the circumstance.”
“We are all of us creatures of habit,” said he.
“I thought to go outside for a better view of the harbor.”
“Aye, we have a good one.” But then he considered a bit and added a caution: “I would, however, stay close to the inn if I was you. The gangs have been about these past days, and a boy alone, such as yourself, is just what they seek.”
“I’ll remember what you say, sir.”
“Do that, young fellow,” said he, turning to his work, “and a good morning to you.”
I walked out the front door of the inn a little puzzled. What were these gangs who sought young boys such as myself? There were gangs aplenty in London which assembled to rob and do burglary. But to steal boys off the street? No, I had never heard of such a thing. What would they do? Sell them in slavery to the Turks? Surely the Royal Navy would not allow that —and Portsmouth was then, as it is still, the Navy’s home. Perhaps I should have inquired more of the innkeeper.
Yet so taken was I by the view and the smell of that sea air that I did not return to ask questions. I took it in and walked a long walk around the place for still a better prospect. This was the side of the George that faced direct upon the harbor. What I saw was that the port was even larger and wider than I had first thought —and there were even more ships anchored about, some of them in corners quite close in. Some were docked off far to the right. I looked and looked and breathed in the air. Ah, but it was grand!
But would it not be even grander if I were to see it closer? I was not far from the seawall there at water’s edge. Surely I could see more and even better there. So, putting my trust in the Royal Navy that order would be maintained at its home, and assuring myself that I had never heard tell of a gang of any sort that did their villainy at half past six in the morning, I ventured away from the inn and headed down toward the seawall.
Reader, I never reached it. For halfway there, at a corner of the street, I was set upon by a group of men lying in wait for one just such as me —naive, innocent, and ignorant of their foul tricks.
They were remarkably quiet for so many. I had no warning whatever. As I cleared the corner where they had sequestered themselves, I was quite swarmed upon. They were five in number — grown men, armed with battens with which they threatened me as I was grabbed and dragged back. Oh, I fought —indeed I did! And I yelled out in protest so loud I must have wakened all in the surrounding houses who still slept, which of course was my intention. Yet none rushed out to save me. How could they be indifferent to the predicament of a poor lad? What manner of people were these who resided in Portsmouth?
I was pushed, pulled, and dragged back to a sixth in their party. And what then should I discover but that he wore the uniform of a lieutenant in the Royal Navy? Astonished, amazed I was that one in such a position of trust and authority should take part in criminal practices. But as I stood panting before him, silenced by my surprise, it occurred to me that those who now held me were themselves in rough seaman’s dress. Could there be villainous gangs organized within the Navy?
“Will this one do, sor?” asked one of the seagoing ruffians.
“Let me have a look,” said the lieutenant dubiously.
And he began prodding and poking me about, squeezing me here and there.
“Stop!” said I, who was in no wise customed to be treated as so much meat upon the hoof.” I am a freeborn Englishman.”
“Oh, are you?” said he with a proper sneer.” Well, this, my lad, is how we treat such impudence as yours.”
He then gave my ears a thorough boxing with the palms of his hands. It had never before been done to me (and for that matter never was again). Held tight as I was, there was naught I could do but suffer the indignity and endure the ringing of my ears afterward, as he intended.
“He will do, I suppose. He’s certainly no plowboy, but lean as he is, he might one day make a topman.”
“I’ll say this, sor. He’s stronger’n he looks.”
“Well, that is reassuring.” Then to me the lieutenant said: “Tell me, Mr. Freeborn Englishman, are you resident of Portsmouth?”
“Indeed I am not, ” said I hotly.” I am a Londoner and proud to be.”
“Perfect,” said the lieutenant.” Take him to the boat.”
With that, my captors turned me round and began shoving and pulling me along toward the seawall, where, I presumed, a boat waited. I thought to break away and outrun them to the inn. Yet with two on either side, hands grasping my shoulders from the rear, and the chief of the seamen in front with a firm hold of my wrist, escape seemed quite impossible. I thought then perhaps to reason with the lieutenant.
“Sir,” I called back to him, “I am an assistant to Sir John Fielding. We came to Portsmouth with Vice-Admiral Sir Robert Redmond.”
“Ah, tell me another, lad. Why not the Lord High Admiral himself”
“We stay at the George. You may go there and ask if you do not believe me.”
“No time for that. Must be on our way.”
And so, having no choice in the matter, I marched along silently a few steps; then hearing a solitary walker behind us, I hung back a bit, allowing myself to be pushed and dragged along, yet slowing us down so that I could tell by the steps on the cobblestones that we were about to be overtaken. Then I threw back my head and yelled out lustily:
“Help! I am being kidnapped. Raise the hue and cry!”
And so I got a sound thwack with a batten on the backside for my trouble, then another. Yet I had succeeded in stopping the party while I took my punishment, and I aroused the curiosity of the passerby.
He turned out to be none other than the admiral’s adjutant, Lieutenant Byner.
“Mr. Byner! Sir!” I called to him.
He looked at me with mild curiosity, said his hello, and started on his way again.
“But tell them who I am!”
He stopped again and made the face of one in a sudden agony of thought.
“Oh, what of your name?” he asked himself.” Jeremy, isn’t it? As for your surname, I know it was given me when we met, but I’m just not good at names at all. So ‘Jeremy’ will have to do. Hello, Jeremy.”
“But did I not ride with you and the admiral here to Portsmouth?”
“Yes, of course.” Then he frowned.” Ah, I see! You’re in some sort of difficulty, are you? Like me to vouch for you?”
“Indeed I would! ‘
By this time I had at least managed to create a bit of confusion among this gang of villains. The seamen looked at one another uncomfortably, and their chief in crime, the lieutenant, stepped forward and introduced himsel
f to Mr. Byner. Lieutenant Byner introduced himself, as well, and the two shook hands like gentlemen. They chitchatted for a couple of minutes, then in low voices discussed my situation. I was at last relieved when I heard Mr. Byner say something about the admiral not liking that at all.” Cause him a bit of embarrassment, you know.”
“Ah, well, you may have him then. I confess he did say something about all that, but I chose not to believe him. We hear so many stories, you know —a wife and seven children to maintain, that sort of thing.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do.”
“But can’t embarrass the admiral, can we?” The villainous lieutenant looked to his partners in crime.” All right, fellows, back where we were. It worked well for us once. It may work again.”
They left me reluctantly and without apology as I gave Mr. Byner profuse thanks for his intercession.
“Well,” said he, “that was quite a near thing for you, wasn’t it? If I hadn’t come along when I did, you would not have been heard from for three years — two, at least.”
“Would the Turks then have let me go?”
“Turks? What have they to do with it? Don’t you understand who those fellows were? That was a recruiting party from the H.M.S. Steadfast out in the harbor. Damn shame it was you they picked up and not some other. That’s the very ship I’m off to in order to fetch that fellow MacNaughton back to the George so we may question him. I could have gone out with them. I suppose I’ll find a bumboat about which’ll work just as well. So I’ll be off now.”
“Again, with my thanks, sir.”
He started away, then called back: “This should take a while. Tell them not to expect me for at least an hour.”
And he continued on his way.
I ran back to the George at full speed, not wishing the recruiting party to suffer a change of heart and pick me up again. Inside the inn, I did not stop to thank the innkeeper for his kind warning which I had so carelessly ignored. But rather, I went straight to the room I shared with Sir John and burst in to tell him what had happened.
“Who is there?” said he in mild alarm.” Is it you, Jeremy?”
He was out of bed and half dressed.
“It is, sir. And I have something remarkable to relate.” I was quite out of breath.
“Well, first fetch some hot water, for I need you to shave me. You may tell me your story as you attend to it.”
And that, of course, is what I did. As I lathered him up, I began my tale, which, with a multitude of details, I made last through one of my special twice-over near shaves. In response, at certain points in the telling he would let out a grunt, yet he attempted to say nothing until I had wiped his face dry with a towel.
“Well, you have learned a thing or two, haven’t you?” said he.” Primarily, I suppose, you have learned not to ignore a warning, even when it is not fully understood.”
“Ah, but more important, and all too sadly, you have learned something of one of the most execrable practices of the Royal Navy. Such recruitment parties, or to give them their more popular and accurate name, ‘press gangs,’ operate freely wherever magistrates permit them. I will not allow them in my jurisdiction. They pull men off the streets indiscriminately and press them into service. They stop merchant vessels and take their pick of the crew. It all began in wartime —which war I cannot say. For it is such an ancient practice —when the need For men was desperate, but now even in peacetime it continues whenever they are in need of men; it is a form of slavery, certainly. Mr. Byner was quite right. Had they succeeded in sailing off with you aboard the Steadfast, you would simply have disappeared For at least two years, more likely longer. We would have grieved, thought you dead, until such time as you could get a letter back to us.
“I love the Navy greatly. I gave it my sight, but I love it still. Yet I know that it is not without faults. This one, which you have now experienced at first hand, is probably its greatest. I make no excuses For the practice. I only thank God you managed to evade the press.”
Donald MacNaughton was a Scotsman, and he shared with a good many of his countrymen that habit of mind which busies itself making endless distinctions, raising objections, and arguing points For the sake of argument. I myself have found them to be a contrary people, much given to needless controversy. And just so was Mr. MacNaughton, one whose very physical being seemed to display these qualities. Lean he was and tall, near six Feet above the ground; and though his mouth was downturned and his brow Furrowed more often than not in a Frown, his eyes glinted bright each time he Felt he had won some small intellectual victory — thus his eyes seemed always to be smiling.
As had been agreed, Mr. Byner brought Mr. MacNaughton into the dining room of the inn, which, though not empty, was not near so Full as it might have been. (Those who drink the clock around next day have a tendency to sleep the clock around.) Sir John and I came first, ate a good and proper English breakFast oFporridge, hen’s eggs, and smoked fish, which was more than either of us might have eaten at home; yet this was halFa holiday to Sir John and more than halFto me. Sir Robert came stumbling in near an hour later, much the worse For his adventures on the road, the bottle oFbrandy he had drunk and the nightmare he had had in the coach. I wondered iF he had had more bad dreams during the night; iFso, he did not speak oFthem. In Fact, he spoke very little at all and ate even less. He ordered coFFee For our table (For which I blessed him since I had come to love the drink) and sat sullenly waiting for his lieutenant and the ship’s surgeon, who at last made their appearance well after ten by the clock perched on the fireplace mantel. Sir Robert called for more coffee.
After introducing the surgeon to the admiral and the magistrate, Mr. Byner announced cheerfully that in their discussion of the matter of the captain’s death on the Adventure, Mr. MacNaughton had convinced him during their voyage across the harbor that he had nothing to contribute.
“Well, I wouldna’ say that exactly,” said Mr. MacNaughton.” Not perhaps nothing but very, very little.”
“Why not let us be the judge of that, Mr. MacNaughton?” said Sir John.
“That is your right, sir, since, as I understand, you are the judge. Yet who, better than me, knows my own mind?”
“What little —very, very little, as you have said —do you have to contribute on this matter?”
“Well, there’s no denyin’ I was aboard the ship at the time.”
“During the storm?”
“You may call it a storm, sir, but I call it an act of God. I have never experienced the like of it.” Then he checked himself: “Well, perhaps once five years ago in the Caribbee.”
“And were you on deck at any time during the storm?”
“Never once, ” said he, which seemed to me the first unqualified statement he had made.
“And where did you choose to ride the storm out?”
“Most of the time in my quarters, praying to the Blessed Virgin Mary that I might be delivered from that terrible storm.”
“You are of the Roman Church then?”
“I am from Aberdeen, sir” —as if that settled the matter.
“You say you were in your quarters ‘most of the time,’ implying you were elsewhere part of the time. Where were you that rest of the time?”
“In the cockpit, attending to my surgery.”
“Oh? There were casualties in the course of the storm then? Only Captain Markham had been mentioned to me.”
“They were recorded in the ship’s log by Mr. Hartsell, ” said Sir Robert.
“Ah, yes, Bobbie,” said Sir John “We must discuss the contents of the log.”
“I have not yet concluded my reading of it, Jack.”
“Very well,” said Sir John. Then turning back to Mr. MacNaughton: “Do you recall who you treated and for what?”
“I do no’ recall the names, sir, only the disorders.”
“And what were they?’
“Two seamen with broken arms, which I set. Another with a broken leg, which was so badly broke, wi
th splintered bone sticking through the skin, that I was forced to amputate, for it could not be set so. His name I do recall, Bartle it was, for he took it ill that he was to lose his leg at the knee. He made a great fuss, he did, and had to be held down.” He paused in his inventory.” And, ah yes, there was another who was lost early, a topman who fell to the deck. His mates saw him still breathing and carried him down to me. Unknown to them, he had broken his neck, and the trip down to the cockpit was what killed him. Yet I could hae done little to save him. His was the first death caused by the storm.”
“And the other was Captain Markham?”
“And then there were the four in the boat launched at Mr. Hartsell’s orders to save the captain.”
“Oh? I had not heard of that.”
“It is mentioned in the log, Jack, ” said the admiral.
“Very’ well, but even by Lieutenant Hartsell’s account, at the time the captain went overboard, there would have been no hope of retrieving him. Launching a boat? Was that not excessive zeal on the part of Lieutenant Hartsell?”
It was unclear whether Sir John had directed the question at Mr. MacNaughton or Sir Robert Redmond. Therefore an awkward silence followed.
“Some members of the crew thought it excessive.” oome :
“All to whom I talked. It was a general complaint, sir. All except… ‘
“All except who?” asked Sir John.
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