The Two Shipmates

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Daylight found the Falcon’s crew still hard at work, the prisoners on board the Concorde being assisted by the English seamen taken out of the two merchant vessels. The latter were South Sea whalers, furnished, as was not unusual in those days, with letters of marque, and returning home from round Cape Horn with full cargoes and a considerable amount of booty. They lay, their sails all set, about two miles off, waiting for a breeze to make their escape. Their masters, who had been found as prisoners on board the Concorde, were eager to attempt their recovery, and offered to man the Falcons boats with their crews, and to lead an expedition against them. Mr Handsel, however, at first considered that it would be extremely hazardous, and he could not spare the necessary number of men for the enterprise. So busy were all hands that no inquiries had been made about the killed and wounded. Few perhaps even thought of their shipmates writhing in agony below. The voices of several officers wont to be heard were silent, and not a few of their messmates were missed from among them. At length there was a rumour that their brave captain was even worse hurt than was at first supposed—it was soon whispered that he was dying—and then came the news that he was dead. Many a tear was dropped from the eyes of his hardy crew, which the loss of their own messmates had failed to draw forth. But there was no time to express their sorrow. All hands had to work on as hard as ever. The carpenters, having secured the masts and spars, were busy with the boats. Mr Handsel at length determined to send an expedition to recapture the whalers, which, fortunately lying rather more than a mile apart, could not assist each other. Ralph offered to go in one of the boats; as it was his left arm which was wounded, he could steer or handle a cutlass with his right.

“Yes, you will go in charge of the gig as an officer; Mr Symonds will take command of the expedition in the pinnace; the masters of the whalers will go in the other boats: should Mr Symonds fall, the command will devolve on you,” said Mr Handsel. Mr Symonds was a master’s mate; one of the lieutenants being wounded and the other on board the Concorde, he was the next in rank able to go. Four boats were quickly in the water, the last nail being driven in by the carpenter as they were being lowered. Their crews were armed with pistols and cutlasses. It was resolved to attack the nearest vessel first; and as she was said to be the fastest sailer, should she be captured, it was hoped that the other would be quickly overtaken. Old Jacob and Dick were with Ralph. The boats shoved off from the ship’s side and pulled for the nearest whaler. As they approached she opened a hot fire, on which Mr Symonds ordered them to keep apart and to steer for her stern. One of the masters in charge of the pinnace did not hear the order. Ralph saw that she was struck several times. Mr Symonds’s boat also suffered. He with the second cutter dashed on, the others following: one boarded on each quarter. The Frenchmen had to quit their guns and to defend themselves with pikes and pistols, but their assailants quickly swarmed on board, Ralph, in spite of his wounded arm, getting up the side with Jacob’s assistance. The fight on deck was short. The prize-crew gave way, and in three minutes the English were in possession of the ship. Ralph looked round for Mr Symonds. He lay dead in the stern of his boat, and Ralph found himself in command of the prize. The master of the whaler just captured was also killed. The other was badly wounded, and several of their men had fallen. Having secured the prisoners and released the crew below, he ordered the boats to tow ahead towards the other whaler. As they approached she opened her fire, but by steering to the eastward he kept directly ahead of her, out of range of her guns. Getting still nearer, he brought his broadside to bear on her, when the Frenchmen, to avoid the consequences, hauled down their colours. She was quickly taken possession of, when the prize-crew were secured and the Englishmen remaining on board were released. As each vessel had six boats they in a short time were towed near to the Falcon. As they approached they were received with a loud cheer, and Mr Handsel ordered Ralph to take command of the first re-captured, the Eagle, and to send all the hands he could spare to assist in refitting the Concorde and setting up jury-masts. Of the other vessel, the Penguin, her only surviving mate took charge; for both had fought bravely, and had not struck till after a long chase, and when several officers and men had fallen. Both vessels had also so severely suffered in hull and rigging, that it would have been dangerous without undergoing repairs to proceed on their voyage.

Lieutenant Handsel therefore determined to proceed with all the ships to Rio de Janeiro, the nearest port in the Brazils. Ralph could scarcely believe that he was not in a dream when he thus found himself in command of a fine ship, with the probability of having to navigate her home. Should, however, a fitting man be obtained at Rio to take charge of her, he would be superseded and have to return to the Falcon. He naturally hoped that no one would be forthcoming. He should then realise his fondest hopes—be united to Jessie—with a good sum from his prize-money and pay as captain of the Eagle with which to set up house. He might then rejoin the navy as an officer, or obtain his discharge, or go back to the Amity, should Captain Mudge wish him to do so. “I will not be ungrateful to my kind old friend, though I suspect that Jessie would wish me to remain in the service; and though I entered unwillingly, I should now be sorry to leave it,” he thought. “Perhaps I may rise still higher—others have done so—why should not I, if I do my duty, and my life is preserved?”

Ralph quickly got accustomed to his new position. His scanty crew acknowledged that they had never had a better captain. They were kept of necessity at work, but he made that work as light as possible by setting them to do it in the best way it could be done, and only ordering them to do what was absolutely required. Sailors, as indeed is the case with most classes of men, are very quick in discovering when they have an efficient officer placed over them who knows his duty. Insubordination and mutiny are generally the consequences rather of the ignorance and sloth of the captain than of tyranny.

Fortunately, the calm continued. The decks were washed clean of their bloody stains; the dead were committed to their ocean graves, and their shipmates, if they did not forget, soon ceased to talk about them. Jury-masts were rigged on board the Concorde, and a breeze at length springing up, the four ships, thus partially repaired, made sail for Rio.

Old Jacob and Dick had accompanied Ralph on board the Eagle. It was an unfortunate circumstance for the latter. Spirits were more easily obtained than on board the frigate, and he very soon became quarrelsome and mutinous. Ralph, not observing his state, had directed him to perform some duty.

“Not for you, or any man like you. You, who were before the mast only yesterday—you think you can top the officer over me, do you? I told you I wouldn’t stand it, and I won’t,” exclaimed Dick, reeling about and flourishing his arms as his excitement increased.

The whaler’s crew laughed, and some of the rougher characters even encouraged Dick with their applause.

Ralph knew that discipline must be maintained, though ready himself to bear any insult, and most unwilling to punish his former messmate. A boat from the Falcon was alongside. He ordered the boatswain and some other men on whom he could depend to seize Dick and lower him into her. It was done before the unhappy man knew what was happening. Ralph then wrote a note to Lieutenant Handsel, saying that the proceeding was necessary to prevent worse consequences, but begging that, as Bracewell had behaved bravely in the action, his offence might be overlooked. Dick stormed and raged when he found himself being carried back to the frigate, and vowed that he would be revenged. Ralph regretted what had happened, the more as he had hoped that, by keeping Dick on board the Eagle, he might have prevented him from attempting to desert. He resolved, however, as soon as they arrived at Rio, to go on board the Falcon and to try and bring him to reason. Though the distance to be run was not great, they were very long about it. Light winds and calms prevailed, and when there was a breeze, the other ships had to wait for the Concorde, which, under jury-masts, made but slow progress. At length land was sighted, and all hoped to get in the next day. As, however, evening drew on the weather looked very threatening. Dark clouds gathered rapidly in the sky. Squalls in quick succession swept over the ocean, and a heavy sea got up, in which the ships plunged and rolled as they made their way towards the harbour’s mouth. Night coming down on the world of waters, the rest were ordered by a signal from the Falcon to stand off the land till daylight. Ralph trembled for the masts of the Eagle, and was still more anxious about those of the Falcon, The night became very dark, and the gale increased. The lights from the other ships could be distinguished at some distance apart. The Falcon and Penguin appeared to be making fair way, and the Eagle behaved very well, but the Concorde was evidently dropping astern. Ralph had kept his eye on her lights. They grew dimmer and dimmer. It was doubtful whether she was even holding her own. The Eagle was under close-reefed topsails, and could with difficulty carry them. A perfect hurricane was blowing dead on shore. “Lord help those on board the prize! I can nowhere see her lights,” exclaimed old Jacob, who had been looking out to leeward. “She must have carried away her jury-masts, or her canvas has blown to ribbons, I fear. If not, we shouldn’t have lost sight of her.”

Ralph looked in vain in the direction in which he had last seen the lights of the Concorde, while those of the frigate and the whaler were clearly visible, the former about a mile ahead of the Eagle, and the latter rather further off, astern.