Peter Simple; and, The Three Cutters, Vol. 1-2

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Peter Simple; and, The Three Cutters, Vol. 1-2 Page 33

by Frederick Marryat


  Chapter XXIX

  A long conversation with Mr Chucks--The advantage of having aprayer-book in your pocket--We run down the trades--Swinburne, thequartermaster, and his yarns--The Captain falls sick.

  The next day the captain came on board with sealed orders, withdirections not to open them until off Ushant. In the afternoon, weweighed and made sail. It was a fine northerly wind, and the Bay ofBiscay was smooth. We bore up, set all the studding-sails, and ran alongat the rate of eleven miles an hour. As I could not appear on thequarter-deck, I was put down on the sick-list. Captain Savage, who wasvery particular, asked what was the matter with me. The surgeon replied,"An inflamed eye." The captain asked no more questions; and I took careto keep out of his way. I walked in the evening on the forecastle, whenI renewed my intimacy with Mr Chucks, the boatswain, to whom I gave afull narrative of all my adventures in France. "I have been ruminating,Mr Simple," said he, "how such a stripling as you could have gonethrough so much fatigue, and now I know how it is. It is _blood_, MrSimple--all blood--you are descended from good blood; and there's asmuch difference between nobility and the lower classes, as there isbetween a racer and a cart-horse."

  "I cannot agree with you, Mr Chucks. Common people are quite as brave asthose who are well-born. You do not mean to say that you are not brave--that the seamen on board this ship are not brave?"

  "No, no, Mr Simple; but as I observed about myself, my mother was awoman who could not be trusted, and there is no saying who was myfather; and she was a very pretty woman to boot, which levels alldistinctions for the moment. As for the seamen, God knows, I should dothem an injustice if I did not acknowledge that they were as brave aslions. But there are two kinds of bravery, Mr Simple--the bravery of themoment, and the courage of bearing up for a long while. Do youunderstand me?"

  "I think I do; but still do not agree with you. Who will bear morefatigue than our sailors?"

  "Yes, yes, Mr Simple, that is because they are _endured_ to it fromtheir hard life: but if the common sailors were all such littlethread-papers as you, and had been brought up so carefully, they wouldnot have gone through all you have. That's my opinion, Mr Simple--there's nothing like _blood_."

  "I think, Mr Chucks, you carry your ideas on that subject too far."

  "I do not, Mr Simple; and I think, moreover, that he who has more tolose than another will always strive more. Now a common man only fightsfor his own credit; but when a man is descended from a long line ofpeople famous in history, and has a coat _in_ arms, criss-crossed, andstuck all over with lions and unicorns to support the dignity of--why,has he not to fight for the credit of all his ancestors, whose nameswould be disgraced if he didn't behave well?"

  "I agree with you, Mr Chucks, in the latter remark, to a certainextent."

  "Ah! Mr Simple, we never know the value of good descent when we have it,but it's when we cannot get it that we can _'preciate_ it. I wish I hadbeen born a nobleman--I do, by heavens!" and Mr Chucks slapped his fistagainst the funnel, so as to make it ring again. "Well, Mr Simple,"continued he, after a pause, "it is, however, a great comfort to me thatI have parted company with that fool, Mr Muddle, with his twenty-sixthousand and odd years, and that old woman, Dispart, the gunner. Youdon't know how those two men used to fret me; it was very silly, but Icouldn't help it. Now the warrant officers of this ship appear to bevery respectable, quiet men, who know their duty and attend to it, andare not too familiar, which I hate and detest. You went home to yourfriends, of course, when you arrived in England?"

  "I did, Mr Chucks, and spent some days with my grandfather, LordPrivilege, whom you say you once met at dinner."

  "Well, and how was the old gentleman?" inquired the boatswain, with asigh.

  "Very well, considering his age."

  "Now do, pray, Mr Simple, tell me all about it; from the time that theservants met you at the door until you went away. Describe to me thehouse and all the rooms, for I like to hear of all these things,although I can never see them again."

  To please Mr Chucks, I entered into a full detail, which he listened tovery attentively, until it was late, and then with difficulty would hepermit me to leave off, and go down to my hammock. The next day, rathera singular circumstance occurred. One of the midshipmen was mast-headedby the second lieutenant, for not waiting on deck until he was relieved.He was down below when he was sent for, and expecting to be punishedfrom what the quarter-master told him, he thrust the first book into hisjacket-pocket which he could lay his hand on, to amuse himself at themast-head, and then ran on deck. As he surmised, he was immediatelyordered aloft. He had not been there more than five minutes, when asudden squall carried away the main-top-gallant mast, and away he wentflying over to leeward (for the wind had shifted, and the yards were nowbraced up). Had he gone overboard, as he could not swim, he would, inall probability, have been drowned; but the book in his pocket broughthim up in the jaws of the fore-brace block, where he hung until takenout by the main-topmen. Now it so happened that it was a prayer-bookwhich he had laid hold of in his hurry, and those who were superstitiousdeclared it was all owing to his having taken a religious book with him.I did not think so, as any other book would have answered the purposequite as well: still the midshipman himself thought so, and it wasproductive of good, as he was a sad scamp, and behaved much betterafterwards. But I had nearly forgotten to mention a circumstance whichoccurred on the day of our sailing, which will be eventually found tohave had a great influence upon my after life. It was this. I received aletter from my father, evidently written in great vexation andannoyance, informing me that my uncle, whose wife I have alreadymentioned had two daughters, and was again expected to be confined, hadsuddenly broken up his housekeeping, discharged every servant, andproceeded to Ireland under an assumed name. No reason had been given forthis unaccountable proceeding; and not even my grandfather, or any ofthe members of the family, had had notice of his intention. Indeed, itwas by mere accident that his departure was discovered, about afortnight after it had taken place. My father had taken a great deal ofpains to find out where he was residing; but although my uncle wastraced to Cork, from that town all clue was lost, but still it wassupposed, from inquiries, that he was not very far from thence. "Now,"observed my father, in his letter, "I cannot help surmising, that mybrother, in his anxiety to retain the advantages of the title to his ownfamily, has resolved to produce to the world a spurious child as hisown, by some contrivance or other. His wife's health is very bad, andshe is not likely to have a large family. Should the one now expectedprove a daughter, there is little chance of his ever having another; andI have no hesitation in declaring my conviction that the measure hasbeen taken with a view of defrauding you of your chance of eventuallybeing called to the House of Lords."

  I showed this letter to O'Brien, who, after reading it over two or threetimes, gave his opinion that my father was right in his conjectures"Depend upon it, Peter, there's foul play intended, that is, if foulplay is rendered necessary."

  "But, O'Brien, I cannot imagine why, if my uncle has no son of his own,he should prefer acknowledging a son of any other person's, instead ofhis own nephew."

  "But I can, Peter: your uncle is not a man likely to live very long, asyou know. The doctors say that, with his short neck, his life is notworth two years' purchase. Now if he had a son, consider that hisdaughters would be much better off, and much more likely to get married;besides, there are many reasons which I won't talk about now, becauseit's no use making you think your uncle to be a scoundrel. But I'll tellyou what I'll do. I'll go down to my cabin directly, and write to FatherM'Grath, telling him the whole affair, and desiring him to ferret himout, and watch him narrowly, and I'll bet you a dozen of claret, that inless than a week he'll find him out, and will dog him to the last. He'llget hold of his Irish servants, and you little know the power that apriest has in our country. Now give the description as well as you canof your uncle's appearance, also of that of his wife, and the number oftheir family, and their ages. Father M'Grath must have a
ll particulars,and then let him alone for doing what is needful."

  I complied with O'Brien's directions as well as I could, and he wrote avery long letter to Father M'Grath, which was sent on shore by a carefulhand. I answered my father's letter, and then thought no more about thematter.

  Our sealed orders were opened, and proved our destination to be the WestIndies, as we expected. We touched at Madeira to take in some wine forthe ship's company; but as we only remained one day, we were notpermitted to go on shore. Fortunate indeed would it have been if we hadnever gone there; for the day after, our captain, who had dined with theconsul, was taken alarmingly ill. From the symptoms, the surgeon dreadedthat he had been poisoned by something which he had eaten, and whichmost probably had been cooked in a copper vessel not properly tinned. Wewere all very anxious that he should recover; but, on the contrary, heappeared to grow worse and worse every day, wasting away, and dying, asthey say, by inches. At last he was put into his cot, and never rosefrom it again. This melancholy circumstance, added to the knowledge thatwe were proceeding to an unhealthy climate, caused a gloom throughoutthe ship; and, although the trade wind carried us along bounding overthe bright blue sea--although the weather was now warm, yet not toowarm--although the sun rose in splendour, and all was beautiful andcheering, the state of the captain's health was a check to all mirth.Every one trod the deck softly, and spoke in a low voice, that he mightnot be disturbed; all were anxious to have the morning report of thesurgeon, and our conversation was generally upon the sickly climate, theyellow fever, of death, and the palisades where they buried us.Swinburne, the quarter-master, was in my watch, and as he had been longin the West Indies, I used to obtain all the information from him that Icould. The old fellow had a secret pleasure in frightening me as muchas he could. "Really, Mr Simple, you ax so many questions," he wouldsay, as I accosted him while he was at his station at the _conn_, "Iwish you wouldn't ax so many questions, and make yourself uncomfortable--'steady so'--'steady it is;'--with regard to Yellow Jack, as we callsthe yellow fever, it's a devil incarnate, that's sartain--you're welland able to take your allowance in the morning, and dead as a herring'fore night. First comes a bit of a head-ache--you goes to the doctor,who bleeds you like a pig--then you go out of your senses--then up comesthe black vomit, and then it's all over with you, and you go to the landcrabs, who pick your bones as clean and as white as a sea elephant'stooth. But there be one thing to be said in favour of Yellow Jack, a'terall. You dies _straight,_ like a gentleman--not cribbled up like asnow-fish, chucked out on the ice of the river St Lawrence, with yourknees up to your nose, or your toes stuck into your arm-pits, as doestake place in some of your foreign complaints; but straight, quitestraight, and limber, like a _gentleman_. Still Jack is a littlemischievous, that's sartain. In the Euridiscy we had as fine a ship'scompany as was ever piped aloft--'Steady, starboard, my man, you'rehalf-a-pint off your course;'--we dropped our anchor in Port Royal, andwe thought that there was mischief brewing, for thirty-eight sharksfollowed the ship into the harbour, and played about us day and night. Iused to watch them during the night watch, as their fins, above water,skimmed along, leaving a trail of light behind them; and the secondnight I said to the sentry abaft, as I was looking at them smellingunder the counter--'Soldier,' says I, 'them sharks are mustering underthe orders of Yellow Jack,' and I no sooner mentioned Yellow Jack, thanthe sharks gave a frisky plunge, every one of them, as much as to say,'Yes, so we are, d----n your eyes.' The soldier was so frightened thathe would have fallen overboard, if I hadn't caught him by the scruff ofthe neck, for he was standing on the top of the taffrail. As it was, hedropped his musket over the stern, which the sharks dashed at from everyquarter, making the sea look like fire--and he had it charged to hiswages, L1 16s. I think. However, the fate of his musket gave him an ideaof what would have happened to him if he had fallen in instead of it--and he never got on the taffrail again. 'Steady, port--mind your helm,Smith--you can listen to my yarn all the same.' Well, Mr Simple, YellowJack came, sure enough. First the purser was called to account for allhis roguery. We didn't care much about the land crabs eating him, whohad made so many poor dead men chew tobacco, cheating their wives andrelations, or Greenwich Hospital, as it might happen. Then went two ofthe middies, just about your age, Mr Simple: they, poor fellows, wentoff in a sad hurry; then went the master--and so it went on, till atlast we had no more nor sixty men left in the ship. The captain diedlast, and then Yellow Jack had filled his maw, and left the rest of usalone. As soon as the captain died, all the sharks left the ship, and wenever saw any more of them."

  Such were the yarns told to me and the other midshipmen during the nightwatches; and I can assure the reader, that they gave us no small alarm.Every day that we worked our day's work, and found ourselves so muchnearer to the islands, did we feel as if we were so much nearer to ourgraves. I once spoke to O'Brien about it, and he laughed. "Peter," sayshe, "fear kills more people than the yellow fever, or any othercomplaint, in the West Indies. Swinburne is an old rogue, and onlylaughing at you. The devil's not half so black as he's painted--nor theyellow fever half so yellow, I presume." We were now fast nearing theisland of Barbadoes, the weather was beautiful, the wind always fair;the flying fish rose in shoals, startled by the foaming seas, whichrolled away, and roared from the bows as our swift frigate cleavedthrough the water; the porpoises played about us in thousands--thebonetas and dolphins at one time chased the flying fish, and at others,appeared to be delighted in keeping company with the rapid vessel.Everything was beautiful, and we all should have been happy, had it notbeen for the state of Captain Savage, in the first place, who dailybecame worse and worse, and from the dread of the hell, which we wereabout to enter through such a watery paradise. Mr Falcon, who was incommand, was grave and thoughtful; he appeared indeed to be quitemiserable at the chance which would insure his own promotion. In everyattention, and every care that could be taken to insure quiet and affordrelief to the captain, he was unremitting; the offence of making a noisewas now, with him, a greater crime than drunkenness, or even mutiny.When within three days' sail of Barbadoes, it fell almost calm, and thecaptain became much worse; and now for the first time did we behold thegreat white shark of the Atlantic. There are several kinds of sharks,but the most dangerous are the great white shark and the ground shark.The former grows to an enormous length--the latter is seldom very long,not more than twelve feet, but spreads to a great breadth. We could nothook the sharks as they played around us, for Mr Falcon would not permitit, lest the noise of hauling them on board should disturb the captain.A breeze again sprang up. In two days we were close to the island, andthe men were desired to look out for the land.

 

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