The strange sail was now within about five hundred yards of the transport, and closing fast upon her: the matches were lighted and the sailors at the guns; the soldiers with the two officers drawn up on the quarter-deck, and armed with cutlasses, carbines, and pistols. She now steadily approached within pistol-shot: her men could be seen moving to and fro on her decks, and the bubbling of the froth at her bow plainly heard: all but the waters were silent; when a voice from the strange ship hailed in English, “What are you?”—“An Englishman,” was the immediate reply, and up went the British colours to the mizen gaff. A broadside was of course expected, or a summons to surrender, when—up went the stranger's colours; and the red cross, transparent in the moonlight, showed at once that the “privateer” was a British ship! Thus terminated all anxiety on both sides; for the same fears and preparations had been felt and made by the stranger, as by the Horse ship. Both continued their course together, and next day entered the mouth of the Tagus.
That beautiful river was now before them, and nothing ruffled the pure delight which the three subalterns felt, but the recollection of the quarrel, and the expectation of its consequences. In two hours they were winding smoothly along the course of the Tagus, all eyes employed in gazing on the romantic scene—the mountains upon each side studded here and there with white convents, whose bells answered each other from hill to hill—the yellow sands glistening along the shore—the blue mountains in the distance—the fertile country;—on the right the city of the seven hills, white Lisbon, five or six miles in front—the wide bed of the river as far as the eye could reach, bespread with fishing-boats, their peaked sails like so many butterflies gliding along—the covered, Venetian-looking barges, passing and re-passing—the clear sky and the warm sun—all sweetly engaged the attention of the party on board, and made them for a moment forget their hostility.
The ship was now very near the fort or castle of Belem, within a league of Lisbon; when Mr. Smith gave his sword to the soldier who had waited on him during the voyage, and was surprised beyond measure, when the man brought it back, and said that Lieutenant Dickens had ordered him not to clean it. This fresh insult irritated him very much, and he remonstrated warmly with Mr. D. on the subject. In his anger, passing him to go down to his cabin, he pushed the Dragoon officer aside. However, the latter seemed to feel compunction, and seized this opportunity, declaring before the master of the vessel, and the officers, that he was extremely sorry for the blow he had so intemperately given Mr. Smith, and begged his pardon: but he assured all present, that he was determined on a meeting with Mr. Brown. This apology was treated with silence by Mr. Smith; and the Lieutenant showed but little knowledge of duelling affairs, when he supposed that an apology could have sufficed.
Matters were now brought to a close on board: the ship dropped anchor opposite the Fish-market Quay, when the three subalterns and the master went on shore. Thus ended the rough passage, but the stormy quarrel which began at sea was yet unsettled; and as I have gone so far with the story, I may as well go a little farther.
The party, in proceeding from the ship to the land, were of course disinclined for conversation. Not a word was spoken, until Lieutenant Dickens addressed the master thus—“Have they any hackney-coaches at Lisbon.”
“No coaches, but a sort of covered chaises.”
“Hah! that will do. We can soon be out of the town. I shall want one this evening.”
This evidently alluded to the expected duel.
Nothing more passed, and the officers went to their hotels—Mr. Brown expecting an immediate message, and Mr. Smith preparing to send a friend on his part. But no pistols were in requisition, the Cockaignee was no blood-spiller; and to settle the matter, concocted charges of mutiny, &c., against Smith and Brown! Both were placed under arrest and tried by court-martial! But such was the opinion of the Commander of the Forces, that on reading the proceedings of the court, he immediately ordered the Cockaignee himself to be put in arrest, and tried by court-martial for “striking Mr. Smith.” The consequence was, that all parties suffered: Mr. Brown and Mr. Smith were cashiered: the sentence passed on the latter was, however, softened down by the opinion of the court, which would have acquitted him, but that the Dragoon swore the push given on the deck was a blow. Dickens fared worst of all: he was “dismissed his Majesty's service,” by which he lost the purchase-money of his two commissions—Cornetcy and Lieutenantcy. Every officer was thoroughly disgusted at the affair being made the subject of public investigation instead of being referred to the pistol; and the service was much injured by the detention of field-officers from their regiments, to sit in court-martials about such a matter. The Dragoon felt that he was despised for the step he had taken, and showed his sense of it by attempting suicide. Mr. Smith and Mr. Brown returned to England, and were reinstated in their former commissions. The Dragoon, after some years, was permitted to re-purchase a cornetcy; and once more sported his white feather in the army.
Thus, by the mere accident of meeting this weak and arrogant officer—or, to go farther into causes, by the roguery of a boatman,—a train of most serious and disagreeable consequences was produced to two young and inexperienced men; first, a five weeks' bill at a Portsmouth hotel; second, a six weeks' gale of wind, with a cat-and-dog party; third, a court-martial, and loss of commission; fourth, an unexpected return to England; and lastly, the rugged hill of promotion to attempt anew under unfavourable circumstances! Let this and all this be recollected by every young officer. It is no story of invention; these are facts registered in the Judge-Advocate-General's office, and therefore form a good practical lesson.