“Then,” said Captain N., who was the flag-captain, and had just come on board, “I much fear you will be disappointed. These are the only disposable men, and it’s Hobson’s choice—those or none.”
“The admiral promised me some good seamen,” returned my skipper, rather quickly. “Then I fear the admiral must find them,” was the answer, “as I have not more than twenty seamen on board besides the petty officers. The last were drafted a few days ago in the Defiance. Will you take any of these men, Captain W.?” “What do you think,” said my captain to me; “shall we take any of [pg 190]them?” “Suppose,” returned I, “we take twenty of them and the tailor; they will all fit in in time.” I then picked out twenty of the best, who were bad enough, as they were the worst set I ever saw grouped. Their appearance and dress were wretched in the extreme. I reached the ship before the hour of dinner with my live cargo. “What, more hard bargains,” said the first lieutenant, “we have too many clodhoppers on board already. The captain told me we were to have seamen.” “Captain N.,” said I, “assured our noble captain that the Defiance had taken all the A.B.’s.” “D——n the Defiance!” replied he; “I defy Captain N. or anybody else to match those gentlemanly ragamuffins.” The master’s mates were called, and they were given into their charge.
One of them, a tall, large-boned man, requested to remain on deck a little longer as he had a palpitation of the heart. “What country man are you?” said I. “Shure,” answered he, “I’m all the way from dear ould Ireland, and I don’t think I shall be arter seeing the bogs again; but good luck to her, wherever she goes!” “What did you do there?” said I. “Och,” said he, “why do I give all this trouble and what business have I here? In Ireland, plase your honour, I planted praters and tended cows. In the hay season I came to England and was employed in stacking, when one day, as I was taking a walk in a field near Lunnen, I fell in with four men who asked me to join them as they were going to a public-house [pg 191]to have something to drink. I thought this was very civil to a stranger. After taking the first pot they told me they intended going in a boat on the river, and asked me if I could pull an oar. ‘I’ll try,’ said I. ‘Well,’ said they, ‘on Saturday, at five o’clock in the evening, be down at Wapping Stairs and you will see a green painted boat with six men in her. I will be ready to meet you,’ said one of the most good-natured, ‘and we will have a pleasant trip.’ I little thought, your honour, that these spalpeens, saving your presence, intended anything more than friendship. I was at the place pointed out, and stepped into the boat. I took the second oar, but I caught so many crabs that I was desired to sit in the stern. We pulled up the river, which I thought very pleasant. In returning, the man who steered said he had a message to deliver on board a dark-looking vessel we were close to. We got alongside of her. ‘Won’t you go up, Pat?’ said he; ‘you never was on board so large a vessel; she is worth looking at.’ I went up after him, when a man dressed in a blue coat with yellow buttons came up to me and told me to go below. Saying this, he called to another, who told me he would show me the way, which he soon did, and I was forced into a dark place where I found seven more half-ragged, half-starved looking animals. Two of them were countrymen. ‘Who have we here?’ said one of them. ‘I am all the way from Ireland,’ said I, ‘and I have come to see this ship.’ ‘The devil you have, my honey; and what do you [pg 192]come here for?’ ‘Shure enough,’ replied I, ‘that’s true. I’ll go and see arter my frinds.’ At this they all laughed. I went to the door, but found a sodjer there with a drawn sword. ‘What do you want?’ demanded he. ‘To go, and plase you.’ ‘To-morrow, my lad,’ replied he; ‘to-night you stay where you are.’ ‘Why, what a bother you are making, Pat,’ said one of my companions; ‘you know you are going to serve the King.’ ‘And pray,’ said I, ‘who is the King? I never saw or heard of him before. How can I serve him?’ ‘That’s a good one,’ said the one who first spoke. ‘Where were you born and baptized?’ ‘About the bogs of Ireland,’ replied I, ‘and I was baptized over a bowl of buttermilk and praters by Father Murphy in a stable among a parcel of cows.’ ‘You’ll do,’ said another; ‘have you any dibbs?’ ‘Yes,’ answered I, ‘I have got two shillings and fourpence.’ ‘That will do. Send for a pot of the right sort, and we’ll drink a long life to Ireland.’ I gave the one who spoke some money. We had our pot, drew ourselves up like pigs in a trough, and went to sleep. Next morning at daylight we were put on board a tender—not very tenderly, your honour, for I lost my waistcoat and my money, and when I complained I was forced over the ship’s side. They said the boat could not wait, as the tender was under weigh. We arrived at Plymouth about a fortnight ago, and here I am, your honour.” “Well,” said I, “if you behave yourself well and endeavour to do your duty, you will be happy [pg 193]enough; and as I brought you on board, I will, if you deserve it, keep sight of you, and in time you may become a good seaman, and perhaps a petty officer.” “Long life to your honour! I’ll be shure and take your advice.” And so he did, and in a few months after was made captain of the waist.
We were now tolerably in order, and soon after joined the Channel fleet off Ushant. The second day after leaving Plymouth Sound we fell in with the Franchise, a large French frigate of thirty-six guns and three hundred and forty men, who, after exchanging a few shot without doing us any mischief, struck her colours. She was from St. Domingo, with General F. on board, bound to Brest. Her second captain appeared a very delicate young person, and during the four days he was on board he never slept in the cot provided for him in the captain’s cabin, but always threw himself down on the sofa in his clothes. We all conjectured that, as a son of Erin might say, he was a woman, which idea after the prisoners left us, was confirmed by the captain’s steward, who had been bribed to secrecy during the passage to Plymouth. The lady was the daughter of the captain of the captured frigate in disguise.
Having seen our prize into Hamoaze, and taken our officers and men out of her, we left her in charge of the prize agent, and repaired to our station off Ushant. We joined the fleet, consisting of thirteen sail of the line and two frigates. We looked into Brest roads, and could discover only eight sail of the enemy’s line of battle ships, with [pg 194]their top-gallant yards crossed; nine others were coming forward. Four more sail of the line having joined our fleet, we were directed to part company and cruise off Vigo Bay. Soon after we fell in with the Venerable. Having the watch on deck, the captain desired the signalman to hoist the dog-a-tory pendant over the dinner signal. The man scratched his head and made wide eyes at one of the midshipmen, requesting him to tell him what the captain meant. “By Jove!” said the mid, “if you do not bear a hand and get the signal ready, he will make you a dog-of-a-wig instead of a Tory.” Seeing the man at a pause, I asked him if he had the signal ready. “Yes, sir,” replied he; “I have the telegraph dinner flags ready, but I do not know what the dog-a-tory pennant is; it must be in the boatswain’s store-room, for I have never had charge of it.” I could not forbear laughing at the man’s explanation. “What’s the signalman about?” inquired the captain; “why does he not hoist the signal?” “He did not know where to find the pendant you mentioned,” replied I. “I have told him you meant the interrogatory pendant.” “To be sure; I said so as plain as I could speak. The fellow must be stupid not to understand me,” continued our deeply-read skipper. A worthier, better or braver seaman than our noble commander never had the honour of commanding a King’s ship. His zeal and loyalty were unimpeachable. To hear him read the Articles of War to us once a month was, if [pg 195]not improving, most amusing. He dogrogated God’s honour with emphasis, and accused the ministers of the Church of being lethargic. Some of my messmates declared, although it was perfectly without intention on his part, that the captain in the last expression was right, for although the word was liturgy, he was justified in reading it lethargy. Respecting the other word, “dogrogation,” they had all turned over the leaves of Bailey’s ancient dictionary in vain; but they presumed the captain meant to read “derogation,” as it respected God’s honour, and they considered it as a lapsus linguæ. Two of the officers’ names were Bateman and Slateman. For months after they had been on board our worthy captain did not appear to know one from the other, and we were sometimes much diverted, and they were much annoyed, by his sending for one when he meant the other. Although our cruising ground appeared a profitable one, and we were considered fortunate in being sent there, for six weeks we only made prizes of hundreds of the finny tribe by trawling off Quimper and L’Orient. This amusement, exercising guns, sails and lead, gave us full employment, and kept us out of mischief.
For nearly two months we had only seen four of our cruisers, and a few of the enemy’s small craft going along shore, and although we frequently volunteered for boat service, our commander always closed his ears to our requests. He was no friend to boating, he said; it very seldom turned out [pg 196]successful, and it only answered, if it did at all, when courage was doubtful. “And if you are not men of courage,” he used to add, “you are not the men I took you for.” At length a cutter brought us orders to rejoin the Channel fleet under Lord Gardner, as the French fleet had increased to nineteen sail of the line, besides frigates. After joining, we were stationed off the Black Rocks, with four other ships, to watch Brest and the movements of the enemy’s fleet. At this time we were seventeen sail of the line and three frigates, and were very sanguine that the ships at Brest would favour us with their company, as they had been practising their firing and sailing in Brest water. We strained our eyes and imaginations in vain. There they stuck, as the seamen used to say, like the Merrydun, of Dover, which took seven years in veering, and when she did so the fly of her ensign swept two flocks of sheep off Beachy Head, while her jib-boom knocked down the steeple of Calais church and killed the sexton. Cruising on this Siberian ground was horribly monotonous work. We sincerely wished the French fleet alongside of us, or in a warmer place. On one dark night we were caught in a heavy gale from the westward. We were under close-reefed main and foretop-sails and mizzen. The ship was settling down on Ushant rapidly, and we expected to strike every moment. The rebound of the water from the rocks caused the spray to fly half-way over the decks from to leeward. [pg 197]A rock called La Jument was on our lee bow. Luckily we saw the sea breaking over it. “Port the helm!” called out one of the pilots, “or the ship’s lost. She must bear the main-sail, captain,” added he, “or we shall not weather the island, and she will strike in less than half an hour.” The main-sail was cast loose, and after a severe contest, its unwilling tack and sheet were belayed. The ship was literally buried in the foam, and I expected to see the main-mast go by the board every instant. Orders had been given, in case of such an event, to have all the axes ready. Providentially the wind veered two points to the southward, which saved the ship and her crew. Had she struck, she must instantly have gone to pieces. The rocks were so perpendicular that in all probability the whole of us must have made food for fishes. In a quarter of an hour we were clear of the island. Had we been under sentence of death, and suddenly reprieved, the effect on our minds could not have been greater. Long, anxious faces coiled themselves up to half their length and became brighter. The captain, who had been pacing the quarter-deck in quick time, brought himself up all standing, and I could perceive his lips move, and, if I mistake not, he was offering up a mental prayer of thankfulness for our hair-breadth escape. At daylight the gale abated, when, on examining the masts, the maintop-mast was found sprung in the cap. The following evening we captured two French brigs from Martinique, [pg 198]laden with sugar and coffee, and the day after a Dutch ship from Smyrna bound to Amsterdam, laden with silks and cotton, in which I went as prize-master. On our arrival at Plymouth we were put into quarantine. The boat which came out to us kept on her oars. I could not forbear smiling when I requested our letters might be sent on shore by her to see the great and certainly necessary precautions taken by these cunning people. A long kind of sprit was held up, split at the end to receive the letters. When in the boat, one man clipped them with a pair of scissors, another fumigated them with brimstone, a third bedabbled them with dirty vinegar and threw them into a leathern bag, taking care not to touch them with his hands.