Marmaduke Merry: A Tale of Naval Adventures in Bygone Days

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“But, as we cannot, we must show them what we will do if they don’t,” I rejoined. “We must get them on deck somehow or other, for if we keep them much longer below they will die, I am afraid. It is hot up here—it must be ten times worse in that close hold.”

“I’ll tell you, then,” he answered. “We must keep our loaded pistols in our hands, and get up one at a time through the companion-hatchway. If more than one attempts to come, we must shoot him; there’s no help for it. It will be a long process, but I suppose those who first come will tell the others how we treat them, and they will be content to wait.”

“We must have some water, then, for they will be terribly thirsty,” said I. “And we must have a good supply of lashings ready, to secure them.”

We accordingly unrove all the running rigging that could be spared, and cut it into lengths, and then, leaving Billy Wise as sentry at his former post, we rolled two water casks over the main hatch, adding a spare sail and spars, so that there was little danger of its being forced. We all then collected round the after hatch. We slipped back the hatch sufficiently far to allow of one man passing through at a time, then, holding our pistols so that those below might see them, we beckoned to the Frenchmen to come up. At first, from having discovered probably the way that Billy Wise had treated their countryman, they were unwilling to take advantage of our invitation, which was not to be wondered at. I ordered the men to take care lest they might fire up at us, for I suspected some treachery.

“Come along, mounseers, come along; we won’t hurt ye,” said Ned Bambrick, the best man with us; indeed, there was not a better in the ship, though certain wild pranks in which he had indulged had prevented him from becoming a petty officer. “Come along, now, we’ll treat ye as if ye was all sucking babies.”

Though the Frenchmen did not understand the words addressed to them, the tone of his voice somewhat reassured them, and at last one ventured up. We immediately seized him by the arms, hauled him out, and shut to the hatch, greatly to the disappointment of those who were following. The Frenchman, who was a sailor, looked dreadfully frightened, and began to struggle violently, expecting probably that we were going to throw him overboard. We had, however, his arms very soon lashed behind him, and we then gave him water, and pointed to his shipmates sitting quietly round the side. He was once more satisfied, and we then signed to him, as well as we could, that he was to tell his companions below that no harm would happen to them. We concluded that he did so, for after he had shouted down the hatchway, another cautiously lifted his head above the coaming. He gave a cry as we seized hold of him, but we quickly had him up, and treated like the other. In the same way we got up a dozen, the last showing clear signs of having suffered most. At length a nearly bald head appeared, with a silver plate covering part of it, on which I read the word “Arcole,” and then the high narrow forehead, gaunt cheeks, and thin body of the old colonel slowly emerged from the cabin. He looked round with a confused expression on his countenance, as if not very certain what had happened; but, before he had had much time for consideration, Ned Bambrick politely took him by the hand, and helped him to step out on deck. When he found himself seized to be pinioned, he looked very indignant, and struggled to get loose, but we had the ropes round his arms in a moment. As a compliment, however, we secured him to the mainmast, with a heap of sail-cloth to sit on. He made so many extraordinary grimaces that even poor Toby, who was sitting opposite to him, in spite of his suffering, burst into a fit of laughter. Grey and I had, however, just then too much to do to laugh. There were still nearly twenty men below, enough to overpower us and to release their countrymen, so it was necessary to be as cautious as at first. From the horrible effluvium which came rushing up the hatchway each time the hatch was slid off, we might have known that the men who had to exist in it long were not likely to be very difficult to manage. In those days midshipmen, at all events, knew nothing of hydrogen and oxygen, and that human beings could not exist without a certain supply of the latter. A few more climbed slowly up. We thought that they were shamming, and treated them like the rest. At last no more appeared.

“What can they be about?” I asked of Grey. Then we heard some groans.

“What shall we do?” said Grey.

“I’ll tell you, sir, I’ll go below and find out,” exclaimed Ned Bambrick.

It was the only way of solving the difficulty. We put on the companion-hatch, and lifted off the main hatch. We were nearly knocked down with the abominable odour which arose as we did so. Notwithstanding this, Ned sprang down into the hold. He groped about for half a minute, when he sang out, “Send a whip down and get these fellows on deck, or they’ll be dead altogether.”