During the two years of our absence I had received several letters from my mother, which afforded me much satisfaction. To these I had faithfully replied. I now experienced the advantage of the primary education I had received when a boy. Many of my shipmates could neither read nor write, and were, in consequence either altogether deprived of the privilege of intercourse with their friends, or were dependent on the kindness of others, to read and write for them. For these I acted as a sort of scribe. I also solaced many weary hours by reading such works as could be obtained from the officers; and sometimes I perused the Bible and prayer book which my mother so wisely placed in my chest, on the eve of my departure. The pack of cards, which so inappropriately accompanied them, I had loaned to one of the officers, who took the liberty to keep them. This was, perhaps, more fortunate than otherwise, since their possession might have led to their use, and their use might have excited a propensity to gambling, which would have ended in my ruin.
After remaining a very short time at Lisbon, we one morning fired a gun to give notice to our convoy to get under weigh. Immediately the harbor was alive with noise and activity. The song of the sailors weighing anchor, the creaking of pulleys, the flapping of the sails, the loud, gruff voices of the officers, and the splashing of the waters, created what was to us, now that we were “homeward bound,” a sweet harmony of sounds. Amid all this animation, our own stately frigate spread her bellying sails to a light but favoring breeze; with colors flying, our band playing lively airs, and the captain with his speaking trumpet urging the lagging merchant-ships to more activity, we passed gaily through the large fleet consigned to our care. In this gallant style we scudded past the straggling ruins of old Lisbon, which still bore marks of the earthquake that destroyed it. Very soon the merry fishermen, who abound in the Tagus, were far at our stern. Next, we glided past the tall granite pinnacles of towering mount Cintra; the high-lands passed from our vision like the scenes in a panorama, and in a few hours, instead of the companionship of the large flocks of gulls, which abound in this river, we were attended by only here and there one of these restless wanderers of the deep. We were fairly at sea, and, what was the more inspiring, we were enjoying the luxury of fond anticipation. Visions of many an old fire-side, of many a humble hearth-stone, poor, but precious, flitted across the visions of our crew that night. Hardships, severe discipline, were for the time forgotten in the dreams of hope. Would that I could say that everything in every mind was thus absorbed in pleasure! There were minds that writhed under what is never forgotten. Like the scar, that time may heal, but not remove, the flogged man forgets not that he has been degraded; the whip, when it scarred the flesh, went farther; it wounded the spirit; it struck the man; it begat a sense of degradation he must carry with him to his grave. We had many such on board our frigate; their laugh sounded empty, and sometimes their look became suddenly vacant in the midst of hilarity. It was the whip entering the soul anew. But the most of our crew were, for the time, happy. They were homeward bound!
CHAPTER V
After running a few days before a fair wind, the delightful cry of “Land ho!” was heard from the mast-head; a cry always pleasant to the inhabitant of a ship, but most especially so when the distant hills are those of his native land. Soon after the cry of the man aloft, the land became dimly visible from the deck, and our eyes glistened, as the bright, emerald fields of old England, in all the glory of their summer beauty, lay spread out before us. Ascending the British Channel, we soon made the spacious harbor of Plymouth, where we came to an anchor. One of our convoy, however, by some unskilful management, ran ashore at the mouth of the harbor, where she went to pieces.
We found Plymouth to be a naval station of considerable importance, well fortified, possessing extensive barracks for the accommodation of the military, and having a magnificent dock-yard, abundantly supplied with the means of building and refitting the wooden walls.
Nothing would have afforded me a higher gratification, than a trip to the pleasant fields and quiet hearth-sides of dear old Bladen. I longed to pour out my pent-up griefs into the bosom of my mother, and to find that sympathy which is sought in vain in the cold, unfeeling world. This privilege was, however, denied to all. No one could obtain either leave of absence or money, since a man of war is never “paid off” until just before she proceeds to sea. But, feeling heartily tired of the service, I wrote to my mother, requesting her to endeavor to procure my discharge. This, with the promptitude of maternal affection, she pledged herself to do at the earliest possible opportunity. How undying is a mother’s love!
When a man of war is in port, it is usual to grant the crew occasional liberty to go on shore. These indulgences are almost invariably abused for purposes of riot, drunkenness and debauchery; rarely does it happen, but that these shore sprees end in bringing “poor Jack” into difficulty of some sort; for, once on shore, he is like an uncaged bird, as gay and quite as thoughtless. He will then follow out the dictates of passions and appetites, let them lead him whither they may. Still, there are exceptions; there are a few who spend their time more rationally. Were the principles of modern temperance fully triumphant among sailors, they would all do so.