On board the “Juno.”
My short stay with my great-uncle, Sir Peregrine, proved to be a source of very great mutual satisfaction. He was a confirmed old bachelor, with a perfect horror of women and children, and by his persistent avoidance of both had gained for himself a character for moroseness and ill-temper. My mother, however, happened to be somewhat of a favourite with him—if a man possessed of such an unpromising character could be considered capable of so much warmth of feeling as to justify the expression—and having, for her sake, interested himself so far as to launch me in my profession, curiosity prompted him to keep me in view. He was greatly gratified to see my name appear in connexion with the capture of the “Sans-Culotte;” and when the “Scourge” arrived in Plymouth so speedily with her second prize, and he heard of my being wounded, he posted down from town, determined to see Captain Brisac for himself, and ascertain by actual word of mouth how I had behaved. My kind skipper was so lavish with his praises that Sir Peregrine was in an ecstasy of delight; and from that time he became a different man; in consequence, I presume, of his having stumbled upon an object which excited within him a genuine interest. During the week of my stay with him in town he went everywhere with me, though his normal condition was that of martyrdom to gout; and on my receiving my appointment to the “Juno” he insisted on presenting me with an entire new rig-out from stem to stern; including a very fine and powerful telescope, the best sextant that could be bought for money, and one or two other matters of use in my profession. It had been intimated to me that, in consideration of my scarcely-healed wound, I need not join my ship until the last moment; but Sir Peregrine insisted on my going down at once, in order that I might not lose the chance which the fitting-out of the ship presented for increasing my knowledge of practical seamanship. “It is not that I am tired of your company, Ralph: do not think that, my dear boy,” he earnestly said; “but you have now an opportunity which may perhaps never occur again for acquiring knowledge which is only to be gained in this way; and it is a species of knowledge which may at any moment be of the utmost service to you. You will have to endure a week or two of discomfort, but that is a trifling matter compared with the lasting advantage which you will thereby obtain, and you will live to bless the day when your old uncle hurried you away from the pleasures of town to the discomforts of a ship passing through the riggers’ hands. One word more, my boy. Your father cannot, I suppose, afford you a very liberal allowance of pocket-money; I shall therefore supplement what he gives you by an allowance of a hundred a year out of my own pocket for the present, that being in my opinion quite as much as a lad of your age ought to spend. At the same time, understand me, if you should by any chance be in difficulties and require a further sum, you may freely draw on me; provided of course that the difficulty is not of your own making, or of a dishonourable nature—but there, I do not think I need fear that of you, Ralph.”
This was on the day previous to my starting for Portsmouth. It was arranged that I should go down by the coach; Sir Peregrine at that time strongly disapproving of midshipmen driving down in private carriages, or even posting down to join their ships—“it would be quite time enough for that sort of thing when I had a ship of my own,” he considered. We were both accordingly on the move early next morning, the old gentleman insisting on going with me to the coach-office, and seeing me fairly under way. While sitting at breakfast he handed me a letter for Captain Hood, my new skipper, who it appeared was an intimate friend of Sir Peregrine’s—with the contents of which, however, I was not made acquainted. He ate very little, devoting the limited time at our disposal to the bestowal upon me of such good advice as his knowledge and experience of the service suggested—advice, the value and benefit of which, I had frequent after occasion to acknowledge. As we rose from the table, he opened a drawer in his secretary, and drew from it a sealed packet which he handed me, saying, “Slip this into your pocket, Ralph, and take care of it; you may open it as soon as you like after you have joined your ship.”
We drove to the coach-office in his own carriage, both of us being unusually silent on the way. For my own part, I candidly confess I felt the parting keenly, the dear old boy having completely won my heart by his altogether unexpected kindness; and that organ was too full to permit of my then entering upon a light and trivial conversation; while false shame prevented my giving utterance to those feelings of reverence and regard which were agitating my breast. Just at the last moment Sir Peregrine brightened up again, seeming to have a lot of things to say which he had forgotten until then; his last injunction, however, was, to stick by the ship until she should be “all ataunto;” when I might apply with a clear conscience for leave to run home for a day, just to say good-bye previous to sailing.
Punctual to the second, our coach weighed, and stood out of the inn-yard in tow of four spanking bays, who rattled and jolted us over the stones at the rate of a good honest twelve knots an hour. The morning—early in June—was brilliantly fine; the air delightfully warm and pleasant; and as we left town behind us, mother earth, arrayed in delicate green, was looking her loveliest. The roads were in splendid condition, a smart thunder-shower or two during the previous night having thoroughly laid the dust, from which, therefore, we suffered no annoyance whatever. The rain had also washed every particle of dust from the hedges and the foliage of the trees, while it had refreshed the flowers in the villa and cottage-gardens which were scattered along the roadside, causing them to diffuse their sweets so bountifully that the atmosphere was heavy with perfume. The sun shone brilliantly; the sky was a dazzling blue, flecked here and there with thin white fleecy clouds, the shadows of which, chasing each other over the landscape, imparted additional variety and charm to the scene. My depression of spirits soon yielded to the exhilarating influence of the day, and enabled me to enjoy thoroughly the drive down, the pleasure of which left upon my mind an agreeable impression, to which I often afterwards reverted with much satisfaction.
We reached Portsmouth about 3 p.m., and the coach stopping at the “George,” I decided to stop there also, for that night at least; I accordingly ordered dinner and a room; and then strolled down to the harbour while the former was being got ready. As, however, I had no intention of reporting myself until the following day, I satisfied myself with ascertaining the whereabouts of my new ship, and taking a distant look at her; after which I returned to the hotel, sat down to dinner, strolled as far as Southsea Common afterwards, and got back to the hotel and turned in about ten o’clock, determined to make a good long night of it, as I did not know when I should next have the opportunity of taking a whole night’s undisturbed repose.
I was on board the “Juno” by nine o’clock the next morning, and reported myself to Mr Annesley, the first lieutenant, who, early as it was, already appeared to have been hard at work for some time.
“So you are come down to join?” he said, on my presenting myself. “I am very glad to see you, Mr Chester; and I wish one or two more of the young gentlemen would follow your example. I am entirely alone here; not a soul to help me, and I am wanted in half-a-dozen places at once; so I shall really be glad of your assistance. I suppose you are prepared to commence duty at once? That’s right; then be good enough to take the launch, and go to the dockyard with this order for stores, and bring them off as quickly as possible. Just give them an overhaul, however, before taking them over, and satisfy yourself that they are good, sound, serviceable stuff. Those dockyard people have been trying to palm off upon me a lot of old junk, which must have been in store for the last twelve years at least. It is simply rotten, and would go like so much burnt thread in our first breeze of wind. Of course I refused to receive it, and have consumed a great deal of valuable time in getting sound stuff in place of it. Do not let them take you in; but insist on having everything of the best. Now go; get back as quickly as possible, and remember, I shall trust to you to do your very best for the ship.”
The boat was alongside, ready manned. I accordingly slipped down the side, and took command, with the feeling that I had suddenly become a personage of considerable importance.
On reaching the dockyard I found that I was only one of many who were there upon a similar errand to my own, and I had to await my proper turn. This occasioned a very serious loss of time; and when at length my turn came, the stuff which they offered me was so unmistakably bad, that even my comparative inexperience was not to be imposed upon, and I refused point-blank to accept it. I was thereupon told in a very off-hand way that I was quite at liberty to please myself as to whether I took or left it; but if I declined what was offered me, I should get nothing else; and without waiting for a reply, the storekeepers coolly left me, and began issuing to the midshipman whose turn came after mine. So thorough a snubbing as this clearly showed me that my own unaided efforts would be wholly insufficient to enable me to carry out my instructions to Mr Annesley’s satisfaction, and I was debating within myself whether it would not be better to go on board again and report my non-success, when an officer who was passing stopped, eyed me sharply, and then held out his hand. It was my old skipper, Captain Brisac.