At mercy of the waves, whose mercies are
Like human beings during civil war.Byron.
“Whatever is, is right.” These words served to adorn the poetry of Pope; and as a consolatory axiom, to soothe the injuries inflicted upon mankind during this “pilgrimage here below,” it serves a good purpose; but, however consoling it may be to the philosopher under worldly troubles, it answers but poorly its intentions with a young subaltern, who from “the turn of a straw,” has been thrown out of his promotion; and so finds his flattering day-dreams of hope turned into painful and disappointing realities. The moral tongue may tell him—“all is for the best;” that, “whatever is, is right,” and his own lip may echo the maxim with a sigh of approbation, but he cannot in his heart believe it: reflection, “like a worm i' the bud,” feeds upon him with a more active and injurious tooth, than that of the insect which gnaws the page of the moralist. Of this I feel convinced, although I know I disobey the Fathers in so doing; but I cannot help it: nor can I help thinking, that the occurrences of the voyage I am about to describe, tended to any thing but the benefit of the three subalterns who encountered them; any more than I can help feeling satisfied, that the petty trickery of a boatman's trade produced the evils I allude to, and changed totally the chances and prospects in life of three individuals.
There are so many leading causes to all evils, that it is difficult to say which may be properly fixed on as the most responsible. As the smallest pebble thrown upon the silent lake will displace, imperceptibly, every particle of its waters, so does each movement of our life influence the undisturbed mirror of futurity which lies before us. The incidents of our existence are like the fragments within the glasses of the kaleidoscope—the slightest movement changes, more or less, the whole of the succeeding pictures. Thus were the flattering views of three individuals changed by the ordinary turn of a boatman's roguery. Had this little circumstance never occurred, a totally different course of events must necessarily have followed:—but after all, perhaps, we may say, would it have been better?
Two young and inexperienced officers, whom I will introduce under the names of Mr. Smith and Mr. Brown, were ordered, in January 1810, to join the army in Portugal. They took the coach immediately and proceeded to Portsmouth, where they received an order for a passage from Captain Patten, the agent for transports. The master of the vessel appointed for their passage happened to be in the agent's office at the time, and reported that the accommodation was desirable. His was a store-ship, which had no troops on board; so that the cabin was to be in the sole possession of the two Subalterns—no small advantage to those who dislike the inconvenience of a sea-sick crowd, packed into fifteen feet by ten of a transport's cabin, and no prospect of good weather. The master of the vessel also informed them that there was every prospect of sailing immediately, as the wind was quite fair, and recommended them to lose no time in getting on board.
The officers hastened to embark. They remained no longer in Portsmouth than was necessary to allow of their purchasing a sea-stock of fresh provisions, consisting of half a sheep, some tea and sugar, a few loaves of fresh bread, three or four bottles of milk, and a couple of dozen of eggs. This matter did not take up more than an hour. They paid their hotel expenses, and one of them stepped down to the Point to engage a boat to take them to their ship, which was at anchor at Spithead. The fare is regulated at three shillings each boat for that distance, unless when the wind is blowing fresh, and then it is six shillings. There was a stiff breeze out; but by no means entitling boats to the double fare. The officer selected a boatman, and told him he would give him six shillings if he would take him and his friend, but the amphibious shark, knowing that the signal was made for sailing, demanded fourteen; which unreasonable demand was agreed to and the matter settled. The officer now returned to the inn, and in ten minutes baggage and all were on the beach. But the boat was gone, nor could the boatman be found. In vain were others of his calling requested to take the fare; the vessels were getting under weigh, and nothing less than five pounds was the demand for a boat. This was evidently a trick played off by the man who was engaged for fourteen shillings, in the hope of dividing a much larger sum with whatever other of his fellows should be employed.
Now there were two strong reasons why the officers would not submit to this imposition: one might have been waived, but the other was absolute: in the first place, they thought it would be a service to the public to have the man, who had disappointed them, punished; and in the next they really could not afford to pay the sum demanded by the other boatmen. In this situation, they had the mortification to see the whole fleet set sail from the harbour.
The first consequence of this disappointment was, that they were obliged to remain five weeks longer before they could get another vessel, owing to the unfavourable winds which set in a few days after they lost their passage. Their disappointment was rendered still more galling by news from Lisbon, that the ship in which they were to have sailed had arrived in the Tagus on the sixth day after she left Portsmouth. The further consequences I will now describe.
After many visits to the Transport-Agents' office, and much grumbling from the little official himself, the Subalterns received an order for a passage in a very fine ship, and were soon on board. Here they found the cabin occupied only by a lieutenant of dragoons, who commanded a detachment of his regiment, also on board with their horses.