How long I had remained thus I could not tell, when I was aroused by hearing a man’s voice, and looking up, saw a boat close to me, beyond her a ship hove-to. One of the crew sprang on to the raft, and casting off the lashings, he and others leaning over the bow of the boat, dragged me on board. After this I knew nothing until I found myself in a hammock on board a large merchantman. A surgeon soon afterwards came to me.
“You will do well enough now, my man,” he said to me in a kind voice; “but you were almost gone when we picked you up.”
I inquired what ship I was on board.
“The Solway Castle, homeward-bound East Indiaman,” he answered.
This was indeed satisfactory news, as I should now, I trusted, be able to get back to my dear wife without the necessity of asking leave. I might indeed almost consider myself a free man, for I did not feel that it would be my duty to return to the Galatea, considering that the prize I had been put on board had gone down. After the doctor had left me, the sick bay attendant brought me a basin of soup which wonderfully revived me, and in shorter time than the doctor said he expected I could not help acknowledging that I was almost myself again.
I felt very sad as I thought of the loss of young Mr Harvey and my old friend Dick Hagger; still the hopes of so soon being at home again made me think less of them than I might otherwise have done, and contributed greatly to restore my strength. I was treated in the kindest way by the doctor, and many others on board, who, having heard my history, commiserated my hitherto hard fate. A fair breeze carried us up Channel. When I was able to go on deck I kept a look-out, half expecting to see an enemy’s ship bear down on us, although, unless she should be a powerful frigate or line-of-battle ship, she would have had a hard job to capture the Solway Castle, which was well armed, and carried a numerous crew. Still I could not help recollecting the old saying, “There’s many a slip between the cup and the lip.” The truth was, I had not yet recovered my full strength, and the doctor remarked that I required tonics to set me up and drive gloomy thoughts out of my head. We kept well over to the English coast to avoid the risk of falling in with French cruisers. We had got abreast of Portland when a strange sail was made out to the southward, which, as she was seen edging in towards the land, it was supposed without doubt was an enemy. The passengers, of whom there were a good number returning after a long absence from India, began to look very blue.
“Never fear, ladies and gentlemen,” I heard the captain observe, “we’ll show the Frenchman that we’re not afraid of him, and the chances are, make him afraid of us.” Saying this, he ordered the studden sails we had carried to be taken in, and the royals to be set, and then bringing the ship on a wind, boldly stood out towards the stranger. The effect was as desired. The stranger, hauling her wind, stood away to the southward, taking us probably for a line-of-battle ship, which the stout old “tea chest” resembled at a distance. By yawing and towing a sail overboard, we stopped our way, until the captain thought the object had been answered, when once more, squaring away the yards, we continued our course up the Channel.
As we passed the Isle of Wight, I cast many a look at its picturesque shores, hoping that a pilot boat might put off at the Needles, and that I might have the opportunity of returning in her, but none boarded us until we were near the Downs, when, unfortunately, I was below, and before I could get on deck the boat was away. However, I consoled myself with the reflection that in another day or two we should be safe in the Thames, and I resolved not to lose a moment in starting for Portsmouth as soon as I stepped on shore. I thought that I might borrow some money from my friend the doctor, or some of the passengers, who would, I believed, willingly have lent it me, or if not, I made up my mind to walk the whole distance, and beg for a crust of bread and a drink of water should there be no other means of obtaining food. My spirits rose as the lofty cliffs of Dover hove in sight, and rounding the North Foreland, we at length, the wind shifting, stood majestically up the Thames. When off the Medway, the wind fell, and the tide being against us, we had to come to an anchor. We had not been there long when a man-of-war’s boat came alongside. I observed that all her crew were armed, and that she had a lieutenant and midshipman in her, both roughish-looking characters. They at once stepped on board with an independent, swaggering air. The lieutenant desired the captain to muster all hands. My heart sank as I heard the order. I was on the point of stowing myself away, for as I did not belong to the ship, I hoped to escape. Before I had time to do so, however, the midshipman, a big whiskered fellow, more like a boatswain’s mate than an officer, with two men, came below and ordered me up with the rest. The captain was very indignant at the behaviour of the lieutenant and the midshipman, declaring that his crew were protected, and had engaged to sail in another of the Company’s ships after they had had a short leave on shore.
“Well and good for those who are protected, but those who are not must accompany me,” answered the lieutenant. “We want hands to man our men-of-war who protect you merchantmen, and hands we must get by hook or by crook.” Having called over the names, he selected twenty of the best men who had no protection. I was in hopes I should escape, when the midshipman pointed me out.
The lieutenant inquired if I belonged to the ship. I had to acknowledge the truth, when, refusing to hear anything I had to say, though I pleaded hard to be allowed to go free, he ordered me with the rest into the boat alongside. Having got all the men he could obtain, the lieutenant steered for Sheerness, and took us alongside a large ship lying off the dockyard, where she had evidently been fitting out. She looked to me, as we approached her, very much like an Indiaman, and such I found she had been. She was, in truth, the Glatton, of one thousand two hundred and fifty-six tons, which had a short time before been purchased, with several other ships, from the East India Company by the British Government. She was commanded, I found, by Captain Henry Trollope, and carried fifty-six guns, twenty-eight long eighteen-pounders on the upper deck, and twenty-eight carronades, sixty-eight pounders, on the lower deck. Her crew consisted in all of three hundred and twenty men and boys, our arrival almost making up the complement. The ship’s company was superior to that of most ships in those days, although somewhat scanty considering the heavy guns we had to work.