“You see, boys,” said he, “I went down to the Modder River this afternoon, with a large party of other converts. The shepherd, as ’e calls his blooming self, ’e comes along too, and brings two or three of the sharps as ’elps ’im. Well, when we got there we finds a couple of tents pitched: one for the ladies, and one for us men, to take off our duds in. Well, after a bit, one of the sharps, he comes to me, and sez he: ‘Brother, we’s going to commence along with you.’ So ’e shows me into the tent, and sez he: ‘Brother, remove your gaudy ’abiliments and put on this ’ere garb of simplicity.’ And with that ’e ’ands me a sort of a nightgown which came to about me knees. As soon as I was togged out, feelin’ a bit ashamed of meself rigged out like that, he leads me down to the river bank and there was the shepherd, as ’e calls hisself, long, thin, herring-gutted devil, standing up to his middle in the water. ‘Enter, brother,’ he sings out to me, ‘and ’ave your manifold sins swabbed away.’ I wades in and whin I reaches ’im the water took me up to the chin. He begins his palaver, and before I knowed where I was ’e puts his two hands on me shoulders and ducks me bloomin ’ead under. He fair took me by surprise ’e did, or I’d ’ave took an extra breath of air. As it was, I lost me footin’, and ’ad to struggle to come up. Me old skull-cap comes off and I got me ’ead above water, but no sooner did ’e see me old bald pate appear than he shoved it down agin, and kep’ on a-doing so until I was near drownded. Should ’ave bin, I believe, ’ad I not managed to giv’ ’im a punch in the bread-basket which shut ’im hup like a pair of scissors, and then I scrambles out and runs to the tent nigh water-logged. Presently along ’e comes, and sez ’e to me, sez ’e: ‘Brother, wherefore did you assault me while in the water?’ And I sez to ’im: ‘You ain’t no brother of mine. What for did yer try to drown me?’ ‘Brother,’ sez ’e, ‘I knew not you was so bald, and when yer ’ead appeared above the surface of the river I laboured under the delusion it was another portion of yer hanatomy, and so as to prevent what might ’ave become an indecent hexhibition I pressed it hunder agin and continued to do so.’ ‘Well,’ sez I, ‘yer religion may be a darned foine one, and yer may be a darned foine shepherd, but whin yer don’t know the difference between a conwert’s bows and ’is starnpost ’tain’t no religion for me, and I ’ud scorn to belong to it or own yer as a brother or shepherd, so ye and yer ’ole gang can go to h——.’ And with that I left ’im and came ’ome as fast as I could git.”
Now although I think that on this one occasion old Davy’s plea, like himself, was a good un, and that he, under the aforementioned circumstances, was fully justified in doubting the bona fides of this fancy religion through the lack of acumen and also the gross ignorance on the part of the shepherd, still, as one swallow does not make a summer, this one legitimate case of perversion does not, in my eyes, justify the large number of people who chop or change their faith and are always thronging to hear some half-crazy tub-thumper, be he a long-haired, red-nosed revivalist, unctuous Mormon or any other hypocritical expounder of a new cult.
CHAPTER IV
JACK ASHORE IN 1871
Yes, I’ve had the honour and pleasure of serving in the same outfit as H.M. bluejackets, and I will maintain that the British sailor is second to none either as a fighting man or love-maker, the only man, in my unbiassed opinion, to equal him in the above pursuits being the Irish soldier. Now Jack and Pat both keenly appreciate a bit of fun and devilment, but I think, in pursuit of divarsion, Jack must be assigned the cake, as during his hours of relaxation, while at liberty, on shore, he frequently displays a bit of originality in his pranks that, in fairness I must confess, land him ahead of my dear, reckless, light-hearted countrymen. During the New Zealand wars the Maoris called the Naval Brigade Te Ngati Jacks, and they insisted that they belonged to a different people from the remainder of H.M. forces; for you never could convince the old-time Maori warrior that the loose-clad, rollicking, gallant sailor was of the same blood as the tight-buttoned-up, stiff and more stolid, though equally brave, soldier. This erroneous idea was, I think, also in a great measure due to the fantastic capers Jack cut while enjoying his well-earned liberty on shore, during which treasured moments he strove to cram into twenty-four hours all the fun, and also as many of the minor vices, as he could manage to indulge in, and I am only doing him justice when I state he usually succeeded in participating in as much devilment during those few hours as would satisfy an ordinary healthy Tommy for a year.
Times, customs and manners have greatly altered since 1870, and although there can be no doubt that, changed as in many respects our fleet men are from the sailors of the past generation, still the same courage and devotion exists in our present-day, highly trained, splendid naval seamen as ever instigated the grand old hearts of oak, who boxed yards about, pulled on bits of string called halyards, braces, etc.; and, totally ignorant of electricity, cursed steam. Moreover, there has been a great change for the better in the conduct and sobriety of our ever-popular and much-loved bluejackets when ashore on short leave.
Settlers, old identities, in colonial seaport towns, will, I am sure, endorse what I have written above, for although during the forty years I lived in the colonies I never heard of one of H.M. bluejackets committing a crime, still some of their sprees were rather alarming to nervous people, while they shocked the puritanical, hypocritical humbugs, of whom there is always a superfluity wherever the Union Jack flies. For these cattle, being able to indulge in their pet vices sub rosa, or else being too narrowminded to make allowance for the festive pranks of high-spirited men, let loose for a few short hours after being cooped up on board ship for months at a stretch, where they have been subjected to the most severe discipline in the world, hold up hands in horror at poor Jack’s frolics, and call the brave fellow, whose mess tins they are not worthy to swab out, a drunken, profligate sailor-man, unfit to be at large in this world, and sure to be damned in the next. Yet many of Jack’s sprees were most diverting to the looker-on, as he would frequently introduce into his frolics some originality that, simple in itself, and most probably quite unpremeditated, still compelled anyone with the smallest spark of humour in his composition to thoroughly appreciate. I am now going to spin you a yarn about one bluejacket’s spree that, if it does not amuse you, at all events afforded myself and some of my comrades, just down from the frontier, a hearty laugh. The scene was Wellington, New Zealand, the date somewhere about the end of 1871, when, the long war having burnt itself out, and the sharp fighting having smouldered itself away to the ordinary frontier defence work, myself and a few of my comrades had, for the first time for nearly six years, the chance of returning for a period to civilisation and enjoying such comforts and luxuries as were at that time to be obtained in the capital of New Zealand. This we were doing with a relish only to be enjoyed by men who have for years been living, or rather enduring, a hard bush life, utterly debarred from the ordinary pleasures of society, and the refinement of ladies’ companionship.
We were doing ourselves well, and going very strong, when the fun was enhanced by the arrival of a squadron of H.M. ships, with whose officers we fraternised, notwithstanding the fact that they ran us very close, if they did not quite cut us out, in the favour of the fair New Zealand ladies, for both officers and men of H.M. Royal Navy are as hard to contend against in the rosy lists of love as they are to beat in the ruddy game of war. No matter if there may have been a trifle of jealousy between us in those days it did not matter a row of pins, and we all enjoyed rattling good times. But hold hard, I am off the trail of my yarn, and so must try back. Well, the squadron anchored, squared yards, and, after the ships had been put into apple-pie order, in due course of time, leave was given to the crews, and the starboard watches came ashore to enjoy themselves for twenty-four hours. This they did; and my word they made the town of Wellington lively, opening the eyes and elevating the hands of the unco guid in a way that, to such lost sinners as ourselves, was most exhilarating. In those days, I know not if such be the case now, every sailor had the fixed conviction that he was a perfect master of equitation, and no sooner did he get ashore than he yearned to ride a horse, or, failing to obtain one, a mule, a donkey, a cow or even a goat came not amiss. Some four-footed beast must be obtained by hook or by crook, or, if saddle animals were quite unobtainable, then he must drive or be driven. Well, the starbowlins came ashore and painted the town a vivid red, and the streets soon became full of bluejackets, mounted on every description of animal, some of the poor beasts having to carry double, while now and again you would see some cart-horse, very long in the back, ridden by three laughing, shouting sailors, the whole of the cavalcades galloping and sidling up and down the main roads cheered to the echo by their admiring messmates, while the riders, with their bell-bottomed slacks rucked up above the knees, their elbows square with their ears, and a rein, or as Jack termed it a yoke-line, in either hand, held on like grim death to a dead nigger. Yet numerous were the falls and collisions that took place, and it appeared to be fully understood that, should a rider be pipped, his loose horse and empty saddle should be the lawful prize of the lucky shipmate who first captured them, and sometimes you could see half-a-dozen or more Jacks trying to board the said prize from both sides and ends of the unfortunate quadruped at one and the same time. Many of the horses could and did buck a bit, but this did not seem to daunt Jack one iota; in fact, buck-jumping appeared to rather enhance the value of the mount, and I saw some wonderful and determined attempts to stick on viciously bucking animals, the rider hanging on manfully by gullet plate and cantle, yea, you might say with teeth and toe-nails, yelling, “Whoa, whoa, you——!” at the top of his gamut, while his admiring comrades howled their applause, every man-jack of them anxious to try his luck the moment the temporary horseman should be grassed. Of course it must be remembered that all of these men had been accustomed to jockey the yard-arm of a plunging ship, and as Jack is by nature and training utterly fearless, I should have bet my bottom dollar that any one of them would have unhesitatingly tried to have ridden Old Nick himself, had he chanced to have come along on four legs. Here I’m off the right spoor of my yarn again, so must circle and pick it up.
It was on the afternoon of the said day, a number of us were gathered together in the billiard-room of the club, when a tremendous cheer from the crowded street caused us to make for the verandah, to see what had caused such an uproar. And this is what we spotted. But mark time, as I must digress again for a moment.