I, of course, gladly accepted so kind an invitation; and, as we ate, I described as graphically as I could every incident of the action, being frequently interrupted in the course of my narrative by questions which showed how keenly interested my interrogator was in every detail, particularly those relating to the handling of the two ships.
“Thank you, Mr Chester,” said Mr Annesley, when I had finished; “you have interested me much, and instructed me somewhat, also: one or two of the evolutions which you have so clearly described were very cleverly conceived, and as boldly carried out. I hope you will remember then, as most certainly I shall, it is knowledge of this kind which is so pre-eminently useful to a naval officer. Courage is of course an indispensable quality in every one who has to fight his Majesty’s battles, whether on sea or land; but the ability to manoeuvre a ship in the heat of battle, so as to place her in the most advantageous situation with regard to her antagonist, is of fully equal importance; and without the knowledge necessary to effect this, the most conspicuous courage, both of officers and crew, may become of no avail. Remember this, my lad, and lose no opportunity for perfecting yourself in the science of practical seamanship. Now let us go on deck again, as I hear the hands have turned to.”
Chapter Eight.
New Comrades.
We were busy the whole of that afternoon, and up until nine o’clock in the evening, the riggers working “overtime,” as the admiral was most anxious for us to go to sea at the earliest possible moment; and Mr Annesley, during the time, was all over the ship, taking me with him, and keenly watching the fitting of every spar and piece of rigging, being fully determined that every part of the work should be well and conscientiously done. I thought him unnecessarily particular over what then seemed to me to be trifles; but the time came, when I perceived that no part of the rigging or equipment of a man-o’-war could be justly regarded as of trifling importance.
The work being pushed forward thus energetically, we made rapid progress; and on the day fortnight from my joining the ship, she was all ataunto, with sails bent, stores of every kind, including powder and shot, on board, fully manned, and, in fact, quite ready for sea. Captain Hood had paid a couple of flying visits to the ship since I had joined her, but I had not seen him, as I happened on both occasions to be away at the dockyard; but on the morning in question he came on board about eleven o’clock—his own gig having been sent on shore for him—mustered the hands and read his commission, made us a short speech, and then went on shore again, previously giving Mr Annesley instructions to have everything ready for a start by three o’clock that afternoon. As soon, therefore, as the gig had left the ship’s side, blue-peter was run up to the fore-royal-mast-head, the fore-topsail was loosed, and everybody not actually belonging to the ship was ordered to be out of her in an hour’s time. Then came the men’s dinner-time, after which there was a general straightening and clearing up, fore and aft, the boats were hoisted in and secured, and finally the messenger was passed, and the anchor hove short-stay-a-peak.
And now, while all hands are supposed to be waiting with suppressed impatience for the appearance of the man who, for a time at least, was to exercise an almost omnipotent influence over the welfare and happiness of our little community, upon whose skill and courage our very lives were frequently to depend, and to whom we all looked up as our future leader in every deed of enterprise or daring, an opportunity occurs for me to say a descriptive word or two concerning the principal individuals with whom I found myself brought into association.
To commence at the top of the tree and work my way downwards—Captain Hood was, when he took command of the “Juno,” a man of about two-and-thirty years of age, of medium height and slight build, with a well-formed figure, and a face which, though by no means handsome, was strikingly agreeable to look at, chiefly because of its frank, easy, good-natured expression. He was always scrupulously well-dressed, even in the vilest of weather; and there was just the faintest perceptible trace of Bond-street dandyism in his air, conveying at first an impression of slight mental weakness—an impression, however, which was rapidly dispelled upon a more intimate acquaintance. His manner was quiet and imperturbable to an astonishing degree; and the more exciting the circumstances in which he was placed, the more calm and placid did his demeanour become. But those who flattered themselves that these characteristics indicated a lax disciplinarian found themselves grievously mistaken. He was strictness itself, in the matter both of discipline and etiquette; was as brave as a lion, a perfect seaman, with an eye which seemed intuitively to light at once and infallibly upon the slightest fault, and with a will of iron concealed beneath the placid suavity of his demeanour. His influence, though it could scarcely be said to be felt, was irresistible; and by its means he, in an incredibly short time, wrought the ship’s company into one of the smartest, if not absolutely the smartest, in the service.