Jacob Faithful

by Frederick Marryat

“That’s just my opinion, Jacob. Hang care; it killed the cat; I shall make the best of it, and I don’t see why we may not be as happy here as anywhere else. Father says we may, if we do our duty, and I don’t mean to shirk mine. The more the merrier, they say, and I’ll be hanged but there’s not enough of us here.”

I hardly need say that, for the first three or four days, we were not very comfortable; we had been put into the seventh mess, and were stationed in the foretop; for although we had not been regularly bred up as seaman, the first lieutenant so decided, saying, that he was sure that, in a few weeks, there would be no smarter men in the ship.

We were soon clear of the Channel, and all hands were anxious to know our destination, which, in this almost solitary instance, had been really kept a secret, although surmises were correct. There is one point which, by the present arrangements, invariably makes known whether a ship is “fitting foreign,” or for home service, which is, by the stores and provisions ordered on board; and these stores are so arranged, according to the station to which the vessel is bound, that it is generally pretty well known what her destination is to be. This is bad, and at the same time easily remedied; for if every ship, whether for home service or foreign, was ordered to fit foreign, no one would be able to ascertain where she was about to proceed. With a very little trouble strict secrecy might be preserved, now that the Navy Board is abolished; but during its existence that was impossible. The Immortalité was a very fast sailing vessel, and when the captain (whose name I have forgotten to mention, it was Hector Maclean) opened his sealed orders, we found that we were to cruise for two months between the Western Isles and Madeira, in quest of some privateers, which had captured many of our outward-bound West Indiamen, notwithstanding they were well protected by convoy, and, after that period, to join the admiral at Halifax, and relieve a frigate which had been many years on that station. In a week we were on our station, the weather was fine, and the whole of the day was passed in training the men to the guns, small arms, making and shortening sail, reefing topsails, and manoeuvring the ship. The captain would never give up his point, and sometimes we were obliged to make or shorten sail twenty times running until he was satisfied.

“My lads,” he would say to the ship’s company, sending for them aft, “you have done this pretty well; you have only been two minutes; not bad for a new ship’s company, but I like it done in a minute and a-half. We’ll try again.” And sure enough it was try again, until in a minute and a-half it was accomplished. Then the captain would say, “I knew you could do it, and having once done it, my lads, of course you can do it again.”

Tom and I adhered to our good resolutions. We were as active and as forward as we could be; and Mr Knight, the first lieutenant, pointed us out to the captain. As soon as the merits of the different men were ascertained, several alterations were made in the watch and station bills, as well as in the ratings on the ship’s books, and Tom and I were made second captains, larboard and starboard, of the foretop. This was great promotion for so young hands, especially as we were not bred as regular sailors; but it was for the activity and zeal which we displayed. Tom was a great favourite among the men, always joking, and ready for any lark or nonsense; moreover, he used to mimic the captain, which few others dared do. He certainly seldom ventured to do it below; it was generally in the foretop, where he used to explain to the men what he liked. One day we both ventured it, but it was on an occasion which excused it. Tom and I were aft, sitting in the jolly boat astern, fitting some of her gear, for we belonged to the boat at that time, although we were afterwards shifted into the cutter. The frigate was going about four knots through the water, and the sea was pretty smooth. One of the marines fell overboard, out of the forechains. “Man overboard,” was cried out immediately, and the men (became) very busy clearing away the starboard cutter, with all the expedition requisite on such an occasion. The captain was standing aft on the signal chest when the marine passed astern; the poor fellow could not swim, and Tom turning to me said, “Jacob, I should like to save that Jolly,” and immediately dashed overboard.

“And I should like to help you, Tom,” cried I, following him.

The captain was close to us, and heard us both. Between us we easily held up the marine, and the boat had us all on board in less than a minute. When we came on deck the captain was at the gangway. He showed his white teeth, and shook the telescope in his hand at us. “I heard you both; and I should like to have a good many more impudent fellows like you.”

We continued our cruise, looking sharp out for the privateers, but without success; we then touched at Madeira for intelligence, and were informed that they had been seen more to the southward. The frigate’s head was turned in that direction until we were abreast of the Canary Isles, and then we traversed east and west, north or south, just as the wind and weather, or the captain’s like thought proper. We had now cruised seven weeks out of our time without success, and the captain promised five guineas to the man who should discover the objects of our search. Often did Tom and I climb to the mast-head and scan the horizon, and so did many others: but those who were stationed at the look-out were equally on the alert. The ship’s company were now in a very fair state of discipline, owing to the incessant practice, and every evening the hands were turned up to skylark—that is, to play and amuse themselves. There was one amusement which was the occasion of a great deal of mirth, and it was a favourite one of the captain’s, as it made the men smart. It is called, “Follow my leader.” One of the men leads, and all who choose follow him: sometimes forty or fifty will join. Whatever the leader does, the rest must do also; wherever he goes they must follow. Tom, who was always the foremost for fun, was one day the leader, and after having scampered up the rigging, laid out on the yards, climbed in by the lifts, crossed from mast to mast by the stays, slid down by the backstays, blacked his face in the funnel, in all which motions he was followed by about thirty others, hallooing and laughing, while the officers and other men were looking on and admiring their agility, a novel idea came into Tom’s head; it was then about seven o’clock in the evening, the ship was lying becalmed, Tom again sprang up the rigging, laid out to the main yard-arm, followed by me and the rest, and as soon as he was at the boom iron, he sprang up, holding by the lift, and crying out, “Follow my leader,” leaped from the yard-arm into the sea. I was second, and crying out, “Follow my leader” to the rest, I followed him, and the others, whether they could swim or not, did the same, it being a point of honour not to refuse.

The captain was just coming up the ladder, when he saw, as he imagined, a man tumble overboard, which was Tom in his descent; but how much more was he astonished at seeing twenty or thirty more tumbling off by twos or threes, until it appeared that half the ship’s company were overboard. Some of the men who could not swim, but were too proud to refuse to follow, were nearly drowned. As it was, the first lieutenant was obliged to lower the cutter to pick them up, and they were all brought on board.

“Confound that fellow,” said the captain to the first lieutenant; “he is always at the head of all mischief. Follow my leader, indeed! Send Tom Beazeley here.” We all thought that Tom was about to catch it. “Hark ye, my lad,” said the captain; “a joke’s a joke, but everybody can’t swim as well as you. I can’t afford to lose any of my men by your pranks, so don’t try that again—I don’t like it.”