Mr Midshipman Easy (31 page)

Captain Wilson also remonstrated with our hero, and he gave up the point. It was harsh treatment which made him form the resolution—it was kindness which overcame it.

“With your permission, Captain Wilson, Mr Easy shall dine with us to-day, and bring Gascoigne with him. You shall first scold him, and I'll console him with a good dinner. And, boy, don't be afraid to tell your story everywhere. Sit down and tell it at Nix Mangare stairs, if you please. I'm governor here!”

Jack made his obeisance, and departed.

“The lad must be treated kindly, Captain Wilson,” said the governor; “he would be a loss to the service. Good heavens, what adventures, and how honestly he tells everything! I shall ask him to stay with me for the time you are here, if you will allow me: I want to make friends with him—he must not leave the service.”

Captain Wilson, who felt that kindness and attention would be more effectual with our hero than any other measures, gave his consent to the governor's proposition. So Jack ate at the governor's table, and took lessons in Spanish and Italian until the
Harpy
had been refitted, after heaving down. Before she was ready a vessel arrived from the fleet, directing Captain Wilson to repair to Mahon and send a transport, lying there, to procure live bullocks for the fleet. Jack did not join his ship very willingly, but he had promised the governor to remain in the service, and he went on board the evening before she sailed. He had been living so well that he had, at first, a horror of midshipman's fare, but a good appetite seasons everything, and Jack soon complained that there was not enough. He was delighted to see Jolliffe and Mesty after so long an absence; he laughed at the boatswain's cheeks, inquired after the purser's steward's shot-holes, shook hands with Gascoigne and his other messmates, gave Vigors a thrashing, and then sat down to supper.

“Ah, Massa Easy, why you take a cruise without me?” said Mesty; “dat very shabby. By de power, but I wish I was there. You ab too much danger, Massa Easy, without Mesty, anyhow.”

The next day the
Harpy
sailed, and Jack went to his duty. Mr Asper borrowed ten pounds, and our hero kept as much watch as he pleased, which, as watching did not please him, was very little. Mr Sawbridge had long conversations with our hero, pointing out to him the necessity of discipline and obedience in the service, and that there was no such thing as equality, and that the rights of man secured to every one the property which he held in possession.

“According to your ideas, Mr Easy, a man has no more right to his wife than anything else, and any other man may claim her.”

Jack thought of Agnes, and he made matrimony an exception, as he continued to argue the point; but although he argued, still his philosophy was almost upset at the idea of any one disputing with him the rights of man, with respect to Agnes.

The
Harpy
made the African coast, the wind continued contrary, and they were baffled for many days; at last they espied a brig under the land, about sixteen miles off, her rig and appearance made Captain Wilson suspect that she was a privateer of some description or another, but it was calm, and they could not approach her. Nevertheless Captain Wilson thought it his duty to examine her; so at ten o'clock at night the boats were hoisted out: as this was merely intended for a reconnoitre, for there was no saying what she might be, Mr Sawbridge did not go. Mr Asper was in the sick list, so Mr Smallsole the master had the command of the expedition. Jack asked Mr Sawbridge to let him have charge of one of the boats. Mr Jolliffe and Mr Vigors went in the pinnace with the master. The gunner had the charge of one cutter, and our hero had the command of the other. Jack, although not much more than seventeen, was very strong and tall for his age; indeed he was a man grown, and shaved twice a-week. His only object in going was to have a yarn for the governor when he returned to Malta. Mesty went with him, and, as the boat shoved off, Gascoigne slipped in, telling Jack that he was come to take care of him, for which considerate kindness Jack expressed his warmest thanks. The orders to the master were very explicit; he was to reconnoitre the vessel, and if she proved heavily armed not to attack, for she was embayed, and could not escape the
Harpy
as soon as there was wind. If not armed he was to board her, but he was to do nothing till the morning: the reason for sending the boats away so soon was, that the men might not suffer from the heat of the sun during the daytime, which was excessive, and had already put many men on the sick list. The boats were to pull to the bottom of the bay, not to go so near as to be discovered, and then drop their grapnels till daylight. The orders were given to Mr Smallsole in presence of the other officers who were appointed to the boats, that there might be no mistake, and the boats then shoved off. After a three hours' pull, they arrived to where the brig lay becalmed, and as they saw no lights moving on board, they supposed they were not seen. They dropped their grapnels in about seven fathoms water and waited for daylight. When Jack heard Captain Wilson's orders that they were to lie at anchor till daylight, he had sent down Mesty for fishing-lines, as fresh fish is always agreeable in a midshipman's berth: he and Gascoigne amused themselves this way, and as they pulled up the fish they entered into an argument, and Mr Smallsole ordered them to be silent. The point which they discussed was relative to boat service; Gascoigne insisted that the boats should all board at once—while our hero took it into his head that it was better they should come up one after another; a novel idea, but Jack's ideas on most points were singular.

“If you throw your whole force upon the decks at once, you overpower them,” observed Gascoigne; “if you do not you are beaten in detail.”

“Very true,” replied Jack, “supposing that you have an overpowering force, or they are not prepared; but recollect, that if they are, the case is altered; for instance, as to firearms—they fire theirs at the first boat, and they have not time to re-load, when the second comes up with its fire reserved; every fresh boat arriving adds to the courage of those who have boarded, and to the alarm of those who defend; the men come on fresh and fresh. Depend upon it, Gascoigne, there is nothing like a
‘corps de reserve.' ”

“Will you keep silence in your boat, Mr Easy, or will you not?” cried the master; “you're a disgrace to the service, sir.”

“Thank ye, sir,” replied Jack, in a low tone. “I've another bite, Ned.”

Jack and his comrade continued to fish in silence till the day broke. The mist rolled off the stagnant water, and discovered the brig, who, as soon as she perceived the boats, threw out the French tricolour, and fired a gun of defiance.

Mr Smallsole was undecided; the gun fired was not a heavy one, and so Mr Jolliffe remarked; the men, as usual, anxious for the attack, asserted the same, and Mr Smallsole, afraid of retreating from the enemy and being afterwards despised by the ship's company, ordered the boats to weigh their grapnels.

“Stop a moment, my lads,” said Jack to his men, “I've got a bite.” The men laughed at Jack's taking it so easy, but he was their pet; and they did stop for him to pull up his fish, intending to pull up to the other boats and recover their loss of a few seconds.

“I've hooked him now,” said Jack; “you may up with the grapnel while I up with the fish.” But this delay gave the other boats a start of a dozen strokes of their oars, which was a distance not easy to be regained.

“They will be aboard before us, sir,” said the coxswain.

“Never mind that,” replied Jack; “someone must be last.”

“But not the boat I am in,” replied Gascoigne; “if I could help it.”

“I tell you,” replied Jack, “we shall be the
‘corps de reserve,'
and have the honour of turning the scale in our favour.”

“Give way, my lads,” cried Gascoigne, perceiving the other boats still kept their distance ahead of them, which was about a cable's length.

“Gascoigne, I command the boat,” said Jack, “and I do not wish my men to board without any breath in their bodies—that's a very unwise plan. A steady pull, my lads, and not too much exertion.”

“By heavens, they'll take the vessel before we get alongside.”

“Even if they should, I am right, am I not, Mesty?”

“Yes, Massa Easy, you very right—suppose they take vessel without you, they no want you—suppose they want you, you come.” And the negro, who had thrown his jacket off, bared his arm, as if he intended mischief.

The first cutter, commanded by the gunner, now gained upon the launch, and was three boats'-lengths ahead of her when she came alongside. The brig poured in her broadside—it was well directed, and down went the boat.

“Cutter's sunk,” exclaimed Gascoigne; “by heavens! give way, my men.”

“Now, don't you observe, that had we all three been pulling up together, the broadside would have sunk us all?” said Jack, very composedly.

“There's board in the launch—give way, my men, give way,” said Gascoigne, stamping with impatience.

The reception was evidently warm, by the time that the launch had poured in her men, the second cutter was close under the brig's quarter— two more strokes and she was alongside; when of a sudden, a tremendous explosion took place on the deck of the vessel, and bodies and fragments were hurled up in the air. So tremendous was the explosion, that the men of the second cutter, as if transfixed, simultaneously stopped pulling, their eyes directed to the volumes of smoke which poured through the ports, and hid the whole of the masts and rigging of the vessel.

“Now's your time, my lads, give way, and alongside,” cried our hero.

The men, reminded by his voice, obeyed—but the impetus already given to the boat was sufficient. Before they could drop their oars in the water they grazed against the vessel's sides, and, following Jack, were in a few seconds on the quarter-deck of the vessel. A dreadful sight presented itself— the whole deck was black, and corpses lay strewed; their clothes on them still burning, and among the bodies lay fragments of what once were men.

The capstern was unshipped and turned over on its side—the binnacles were in remnants, and many of the ropes ignited. There was not one person left on deck to oppose them.

As they afterwards learned from some of the men who had saved their lives by remaining below, the French captain had seen the boats before they anchored, and had made every preparation; he had filled a large ammunition chest with cartridges for the guns, that they might not have to hand them up. The conflict between the men of the pinnace and the crew of the vessel was carried on near the capstern, and a pistol fired had accidentally communicated with the powder, which blew up in the very centre of the dense and desperate struggle.

The first object was to draw water and extinguish the flames, which were spreading over the vessel; as soon as that was accomplished, our hero went aft to the taffrail, and looked for the cutter which had been sunk.— “Gascoigne, jump into the boat with four men—I see the cutter floats a quarter of a mile astern: there may be some one alive yet. I think now I see a head or two.”

Gascoigne hastened away, and soon returned with three of the cutter's men; the rest had sunk, probably killed or wounded by the discharge of the broadside.

“Thank God, there's three saved!” said Jack, “for we have lost too many. We must now see if any of these poor fellows are yet alive, and clear the decks of the remnants of those who have been blown to pieces. I say, Ned, where should we have been if we had boarded with the pinnace?”

“You always fall upon your feet, Easy,” replied Gascoigne; “but that does not prove that you are right.”

“I see there's no convincing you, Ned, you are so confoundedly fond of argument. However, I've no time to argue now—we must look to these poor fellows, some are still alive.”

Body after body was thrown through the ports, the habiliments, in most cases, enabling them to distinguish whether it was that of a departed friend or foe.

Jack turned round, and observed Mesty with his foot on a head which had been blown from the trunk.

“What are you about, Mesty?”

“Massa Easy, I look at dis, and I tink it Massa Vigors' head, and den I tink dis skull of his enemy nice present make to little Massa Gossett; and den I tink again, and I say, no, he dead and nebber thrash any more—so let him go overboard.”

Jack turned away, forgiving Vigors in his heart; he thought of the petty animosities of a midshipman's berth, as he looked at the blackened portion of a body half an hour before possessing intellect.

“Massa Easy,” said Mesty, “I tink you say right, anyhow, when you say forgive: den, Massa Vigors,” continued Mesty, taking up the head by the singed hair, and tossing it out of the port; “you really very bad man— but Ashantee forgive you.”

“Here's somebody alive,” said Gascoigne to Jack, examining a body, the face of which was black as a cinder and not to be recognised, “and he is one of our men, too, by his dress.”

Our hero went up to examine, and to assist Gascoigne in disengaging the body from a heap of ropes and half-burnt tarpaulings with which it was entangled. Mesty followed, and looking at the lower extremities said, “Massa Easy, dat Massa Jolliffe; I know him trousers; marine tailor say he patch um for ever, and so old dat de thread no hold; yesterday he had dis patch put in, and marine tailor say he be d——n if he patch any more, please nobody.”

Mesty was right; it was poor Jolliffe, whose face was burnt as black as a coal by the explosion. He had also lost three fingers of the left hand, but as soon as he was brought out on the deck he appeared to recover, and pointed to his mouth for water, which was instantly procured.

“Mesty,” said Jack, “I leave you in charge of Mr Jolliffe; take every care of him till I can come back.”

The investigation was then continued, and four English sailors found who might be expected to recover, as well as about the same number of Frenchmen; the remainder of the bodies were then thrown overboard. The hat only of the master was picked up between the guns, and there were but eleven Frenchmen found below.