CHAPTER IX
You have now, reader, followed me through my military enterprises, up to the time of my being appointed lieutenant in the 76th regiment. The time has arrived when I have to request that you will beat the silvery wave with me; for I am bound to my native country with my regiment, after an absence of ten years. On arriving at Calcutta, our reception was gratifying in the extreme. Every house opened its hospitable doors, and the tables groaned under a profusion of good cheer. Every one was anxious to hear the tale of war; and, wherever I went, I was thought ill-natured if I refused to repeat storm after storm, and all my battles over and over again. But, the ship being about to weigh anchor, our stay here was but short. We embarked at Balloh Ghaut, on board small sloops, and in three days reached the vessel, the Lord Duncan, Captain Bradford, in safety. We had on board a great number of passengers, and about two hundred invalids, under the command of Captain Lindsay, of my old corps. Two days afterwards we bade adieu to the Indian shores, leaving many dear and respected friends behind us.
We were at this time at war with France, and the Indian Seas were well watched by cruisers from off the Isle of France. Our fleet consisted of thirteen Indiamen of the first-rate convoyed by the Tremendous, seventy-four, and Hindostan, seventy-four. We sailed in two lines, headed by the two seventy-fours. All seemed order and discipline, and we thought ourselves a match for any ships of France we might have fallen in with. Everything went on smoothly, practising and drilling our guns once a week, and keeping a constant look-out for the enemy. Off the coast of Madagascar a ship was discovered, early in the morning, standing right down upon us. Seeing her a single vessel, we conceived her to be one of our cruisers from off the Cape of Good Hope; but, when she was within one mile and a half from us, she could not answer our signals, and consequently ran towards the land, which was to windward of us. The Tremendous, being a fast sailer, went in chase of her. The Frenchman soon found that he was mistaken. He, no doubt, at first took us for a French fleet that was then out in these seas, and relied upon his fast and superior sailing to enable him to get away, should he prove mistaken; but our commodore overhauled him hand over hand. The Frenchman tacked, turned, and twisted, but he found it was of no use. He therefore resorted to his natural cunning, shortened sail, and at last backed maintopsail, and waited till the English vessel came within pistol-shot. The commodore, conceiving that the Frenchman was about to strike, did not wish to injure her, and therefore would not fire. The French captain availed himself of this interval, and gave the Tremendous a whole broadside, by which she was so disabled as to become an immoveable log on the water. The Frenchman up-helm, and off he started. The commodore, at last, got his ship's broadside to bear, and nearly tore her out of the water. However, she was a faster sailer than any ship in our fleet, and, finally, made her escape, to the mortification of the whole fleet, except one Captain Brusée, a French prisoner of war, a passenger on board our ship, who danced with ineffable delight;—natural enough, but not very pleasant to the sight of an Englishman.
The following day we experienced a most violent hurricane, which lasted for two days without cessation. Fortunately, our fleet suffered but little injury, with the exception of one vessel, the Lady Castlereagh, which we thought must inevitably have been lost. She was about a quarter of a mile from us, and we could at one time see her whole keel. There was a general shriek of terror from all on board of us, and our captain said that he feared she would never right. The next gigantic wave, however, brought her up, and she did right, in spite of our predictions, but seemed to roll, pitch, and labour dreadfully. Some parts of her masts were carried away; but what, I do not now recollect. Three of our ships separated from the fleet, and we imagined that they had fallen into the hands of the French, for we learned, at St. Helena, that they had been seen a few days before from that island. The name of the French ship which we had fallen in with was Le Cannonier, a sixty-four, from the Isle of France. We understood that she was so badly wounded, that she was obliged to put into Simon's Bay, not aware, at that time, that the Cape was again in possession of the English. She soon found this out, cut and ran, and got clear to the Isle of France. Our three strayed ships made their appearance at St. Helena the following day, having seen the French fleet the night after the affair between the Tremendous and Le Cannonier, and, under cover of the night, escaped unobserved, or they must have been taken, as the French fleet consisted of five sail or more.
Our reception at St. Helena, by Governor Brooke, was truly splendid and hospitable. We remained there, I think, eight or ten days, after which we again stood towards Old England.
We arrived in England some time in October, 1807. We landed at Long Reach, and proceeded to Dartford, in Kent, from whence I marched my invalids, or rather had them carried, to Chelsea Hospital—a journey which I was three days in accomplishing. On the fourth day I reached the place of destination; and, having made my report to the commandant of Chelsea, I returned to join the regiment at Dartford. Here we remained for about a week or ten days, receiving the greatest kindness from the gentlemen in that town and its vicinity. From thence the regiment was ordered to Nottingham, and I obtained leave of absence to proceed home.
My primary object in coming to England was the hope of seeing my father; and I anxiously availed myself of the opportunity which now offered of revisiting my native village, full of anticipation of the pleasure with which I should relate my adventures to all who had formerly known me. The coach which was to convey me to the village of my birth, had not proceeded many miles, when a coincidence happened, which, though "true as holy writ," might be thought, without this assurance, to bear the marks of fiction. On the coach, next to me, sat a pilot from Aldborough, in Suffolk, who, suddenly addressing himself to me, said, "I really cannot help thinking, Sir, from your extraordinary resemblance to a person I once knew, that you are his son." The words, "once knew," turned my blood cold, and it was some minutes before I could muster courage to ask the name of the person to whom he referred. What was my astonishment when he at once replied, "Shipp!" "Is he then dead, Sir?" exclaimed I, convinced now that it was my father of whom he spoke. "I regret to say he is," replied the pilot; and he added, while his lip quivered, and the tear of sympathy stood in his eye, "You are his son John—I feel sure that I cannot be mistaken now." At this moment the coach stopped to change horses, and I jumped off, and, instead of supping with the rest of the passengers, took a solitary stroll, to hide my grief. I had left India at a great sacrifice to my prospects. There were all my friends, and there lay all my interest. I might have made a very advantageous exchange, and remained in that country; but I could not resist the temptation of coming to England, from anticipations of the delight I should enjoy in recounting my life to a parent who had almost from my infancy been estranged from me. I had now heard, in the sudden and unexpected manner I have related, of that parent's death! But, not to dwell long on this painful subject, I made up my mind, that, notwithstanding what I had just learnt, I would still proceed to Saxmundham. On arriving there, I found living my father's two brothers, and my mother's sister. With the latter I took up my quarters, and spent a most happy fortnight under her roof. To enumerate the alterations which had been made, both in places and persons, since I left my native village, or to detail the inquiries I had to answer, and the congratulations which poured in upon me from all quarters, would be as uninteresting to the reader as it would be tedious to myself.
I soon returned to Nottingham, and rejoined my regiment. From thence I was ordered to Wakefield, in Yorkshire, on the recruiting service. Here nothing but gaiety prevailed; and, as I was the only officer at the place for a considerable time, I received invitation upon invitation, to dinners, balls, and suppers; and, to confess the truth, I thought myself no small personage, which, as I was now in the grenadier company, was not, in its literal sense, very easily to be controverted.