Читать книгу Newton Forster; Or, The Merchant Service - Фредерик Марриет - Страница 15

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’Tis man’s bold task the gen’rous strife to try,

But in the hands of God is victory.

Iliad.

Newton, and the other men who had been selected for the frigate, on board of which they had been despatched (victualled the day discharged), were mustered on the quarter-deck by the first lieutenant, who asked them the questions, whether they were bred to the sea, and could take the helm and lead. Having noted down their answers, he stationed them accordingly, and they were dismissed. Newton would again have appealed, but on reflection thought it advisable to await the arrival of the captain. Beds and blankets were not supplied that evening: the boats were hoisted up, sentries on the gang ways supplied with ball-cartridges to prevent desertion, and permission granted to the impressed men to “prick for the softest plank” which they could find for their night’s repose.

At daylight the hands were turned up, the capstern manned, the frigate unmoored, and hove “short stay a-peak” on her anchor remaining down. The gig was sent on shore with two midshipmen, one to watch the men and prevent their desertion, while the other went up to the captain’s lodgings to report her arrival: the topsails were loosed, sheeted home, and hoisted, the yards braced by, and Newton to his sorrow perceived that the captain’s arrival would be the signal for immediate departure. The signalman, on the look-out with his glass, reported the gig coming off with the captain; and in obedience to the orders he had received, the first-lieutenant immediately hove up, and the anchor having been “catted and fished,” the frigate lay-to in the Sound. As soon as the boat came alongside, and the captain had been received with the customary honours, he desired sail to be made on her as soon as the boat was hoisted up, and then descended to his cabin. In three minutes Newton perceived that all chance of release for the present was over; the courses and topgallant sails were set, and the frigate darted past the Ram Head at the rate of ten miles per hour.

In about twenty minutes, after the messenger had been stowed away, the cables coiled in the tiers, and the ropes flemished down on deck, the captain made his appearance, and directed the first-lieutenant to send aft the newly impressed men. In few words he pointed out to them the necessity of their servitude; and concluded by recommending them to enter his majesty’s service, and receive the bounty to which they would become entitled; observing, that the men who did so would raise themselves in his good opinion, and as far as he had the power, would not be forgotten by him, provided that their general good conduct merited his favour. Some few accepted the terms, but the most of them positively refused. When Newton was addressed, he stated to the captain that he was master of a vessel, and exempted by law from the impress.

“It is easy to assert that,” observed the captain; “but where are your proofs? your youth almost denies what you affirm.”

“There are my papers, sir, my clearance from the Custom-house, and my bill of lading, which I had in my pocket, intending to sail a few minutes after the time that I was impressed.”

“I observe,” replied the captain, examining the papers, “they appear to be all correct. What is your name?”

“Newton Forster.”

“Then this is your signature?”

“It is, sir.”

Mr. Pittson, desire the clerk to bring up a pen and ink.

The clerk made his appearance.—“Now, sign your name.”—Newton obeyed, and his signature was compared with that on the bill of lading, by the captain and first-lieutenant.

“Why did you not mention this before?” continued the captain.

“I attempted several times, but was not permitted to speak.” Newton then stated how he had been treated when impressed, and afterwards by the officer commanding the cutter.

“You certainly were exempted from the impress, if what you state is true; and I believe it so to be,” replied the captain.—“It is a hard case; but what can I do? Here we are at sea, and likely to remain on a cruise of several months. You cannot expect to eat the bread of idleness on board of a man-of-war. You will do your duty wherever you are stationed. There is no disgrace in serving his majesty, in any capacity. I tell you candidly, that although I would not have impressed you myself, I am very glad that I have you on board; I wish I had fifty more of the same sort, instead of the sweepings of the gaols, which I am obliged to mix up with prime seamen.”

“Perhaps, sir, you will have the kindness to send me back by the first homeward-bound vessel?”

“No, that I cannot do; you are on the ship’s books, and the case must be referred to the Admiralty on our return: that it will be my duty to attend to, upon your application; but I hope before that you will have entered into his majesty’s service.”

“And in the mean time my poor father may starve,” said Newton, with a sigh, not addressing those around him, but giving utterance to his thoughts.

The captain turned away, and paced the quarter-deck with the first-lieutenant. At last he was overheard to say—“It’s a very hard case, certainly. Forster, can you navigate?” continued the captain, addressing Newton.

“Yes, sir, I can work up a dead reckoning, and take the sun’s altitude.”

“Very well, that will do.—Mr. Pittson, you may dismiss them. Are they put into messes?”

“All, sir.”

“It’s twelve o’clock, sir,” said the master, touching his hat, with his quadrant in his hand.

“Make it so, and pipe to dinner.”

Newton was stationed in the foretop. In a few days the awkwardness arising from the novelty of the scene and from the superior dimensions of every variety of equipment on board of the frigate, compared to the small craft to which he had been accustomed, passed away. The order which was exacted to preserve discipline, the precision with which the time was regulated, the knowledge of the duty allotted to him, soon made him feel that no more was exacted than what could easily be performed, and that there was no hardship in serving on board of a man-of-war; the only hardship was, the manner in which he had been brought there. Although he often sighed as he thought of his father and mother, he did his duty cheerfully, and was soon distinguished as a most promising young sailor.

Captain Northfleet was a humane and good officer, and his first-lieutenant followed in his steps, and equally deserved the character. Before the ship’s company had been six weeks together, they were in a tolerable state of discipline; and proved such to be the case, by acknowledging that they were happy. This, added to the constant excitement of chasing and capturing the vessels of the enemy with the anticipation of prize-money, soon made most of those who had been impressed, forget what had occurred, or cease to lament it as a hardship. The continual exercise of the guns was invariably followed up by a general wish that they might fall in with an enemy of equal force, to ascertain whether such constant drilling had been thrown away upon them. The Terpsichore received supplies of provisions and water from other ships, and for nine months continued a successful cruise.

Several prizes had already been captured, and sent home to England. The complement of the frigate was materially reduced by so many absentees, although some of her men had been brought out to her by other vessels, when a strange sail was discovered from the mast-head. A few hours sufficed to bring the swift Terpsichore alongside of the stranger, who first hoisted, and then immediately hauled down the tricoloured flag in token of submission. She proved to be a French brig, bound to the Cape of Good Hope, with ammunition and government stores. The third-lieutenant, and all the midshipmen who could navigate, were already away; and this prize proving valuable, Captain Northfleet resolved to send her in. The difficulty relative to a prize-master was removed by the first-lieutenant, who recommended Newton Forster. To this suggestion the Captain acceeded; and Newton, with five men, and two French prisoners to assist, was put on board of the Estelle, with written instructions to repair to Plymouth, and, upon his arrival there, deliver up the prize to the agent, and report himself to the admiral.

Captain Northfleet also returned to Newton the papers of his sloop, and gave him a letter to the admiral, stating the hardship of his case. At the same time that he informed him of the contents of his letter, he recommended Newton to continue in the service, promising that, if he took the vessel safe into port, he would put him on the quarterdeck, as one of the mates of the frigate. Newton thanked Captain Northfleet for his good intentions; and, requesting permission to reflect upon his proposal, took his leave, and in a few minutes was on board of the Estelle.

There was a buoyancy of spirits in Newton when he once more found himself clear of the frigate. He acknowledged that he had been well treated, and that he had not been unhappy; but still it was emancipation from forced servitude. It is hard to please where there are so many masters; and petty tyranny will exist, and cause much discontent before it is discovered, even where the best discipline prevails. The imperious behaviour of the young midshipmen, who assume the same despotic sway which is exercised over themselves, as soon as their superiors are out of sight and hearing, was often extremely galling to Newton Forster, and it frequently required much forbearance not to retort. However in strict justice this might be warranted, discipline would not permit it, and it would have been attended with severe punishment. It was therefore with a feeling of delight, that Newton found himself his own master, and watched the hull and canvass of the Terpsichore, as they gradually sunk below the horizon.

The Estelle was a fine vessel, and her cargo not being all composed of heavy materials, was sufficiently light on the water to sail well. At the time of her capture, they were, by the reckoning of the frigate, about fourteen hundred miles from the Lizard. In a fortnight, therefore, with the wind at all propitious, Newton hoped to set his foot upon his native land. He crowded all the sail which prudence would allow; and, with the wind upon his quarter, steered his course for England.

The men sent with him in the brig consisted of two able seamen, and three of the gang which had been collected from the gaols and brought round from the eastward. Captain Northfleet spared the former, as it was necessary that a part of the crew should be able to steer and navigate the vessel; the latter, with the sincere hope of never seeing them again, taking it for granted that they would run away as soon as they arrived at Plymouth. With the two prisoners, they were sufficient to work the vessel.

During the first ten days the wind was generally in their favour, and the brig was not far off from the chops of the Channel, when a low raking vessel was perceived bearing down upon them from the North West. Newton had no glass; but as she neared to within three miles, the vessel wore the appearance of a privateer schooner; but whether an enemy or not, it was impossible to decide. The Estelle had two small brass guns on her forecastle; and Newton, to ascertain the nation to which the privateer belonged, hoisted the French ensign and fired a gun. In a minute the privateer hoisted English colours; but as she continued to bear down upon them, Newton, not feeling secure, rove his studding sail gear, and made all preparation for running before the wind, which he knew to be the brig’s best point of sailing. The privateer had approached to within two miles, when Roberts, one of the seamen, gave his decided opinion that she was a French vessel, pointing out the slight varieties in the rigging and build of the vessel, which would not have been apparent to any one but a thorough-bred seaman.

“We’d better up helm, and get the sail upon her. If she be French, she’ll soon show herself by firing at us.”

Newton was of the same opinion. The brig was put before the wind, and gradually all her canvass was spread. The privateer immediately shook out all her reefs, set her lofty sails, hoisted French colours, and, in a few minutes, a shot whizzed through the rigging of the Estelle, and pitched into the water ahead of them.

“I thought so,” cried Roberts. “It’s a Johnny Crapeau. A starn chase is a long chase, anyhow. The brig sails well, and there ain’t more than two hours daylight; so Monsieur must be quick, or we’ll give him the slip yet.”

The privateer was now within a mile of them; both vessels had “got their way;” and their respective powers of sailing were to be ascertained. In half an hour the privateer had neared to three quarters of a mile.

“I think our little guns will soon reach her,” observed Newton. “Williams, give me the helm. Go forward with Roberts and the men, and rouse them aft. Be smart, my lads, for she has the heels of us.”

“Come along,” said Roberts. “You, Collins, why don’t you stir?—do you wish to see the inside of a French prison?”

“No,” replied Collins, sauntering forward, “not particularly.”

“Only by way of a change, I suppose,” observed Thompson, another of the convicts. “You have been in every gaol in England, to my knowledge—havn’t you, Ben?”

“Mayhap I have,” replied Collins; “but one gentleman should never interfere with the consarns of another. I warn’t whipped at the cart-tail, as you were, last Lancaster ’sizes.”

“No; but you had a taste of it on board of the Terpsichore. Ben, you aren’t forgot that?” retorted Hillson, the other of the three characters who had been sent with Newton.

In a few minutes the guns were run aft, and the ammunition brought on deck. Newton then gave the helm to Williams, and served one gun; while Roberts took charge of the other. The privateer had continued to near them, and was now within their range. A smart fire was kept up on her, which she returned with her superior metal.

After the firing had commenced, the approach of the privateer was in some degree checked. The guns fired from the stern of the Estelle assisted her velocity through the water; while, on the contrary, the privateer, being obliged to yaw from her course that her guns might bear, and firing from the bow, her impetus was checked. Still the privateer had the advantage in sailing, and slowly neared the brig.

“There’s no need of your coming aft so close upon us,” said Roberts to the two Frenchmen who had been sent on board; “go forward, and keep out of the way. That ’ere chap is after mischief; he had his eye upon the amminition,” continued the sailor to Newton. “Go forward—d’ye hear? or I’ll split your damned French skull with the handspike.”

“Don’t touch him, Roberts,” said Newton.

“No, I won’t touch him, if he keeps out of my way. Do you hear?—go forward!” cried Roberts to the Frenchman, waving his hand.

The Frenchman answered with a sneer and a smile, and was turning to obey the order, when a shot from the privateer cut him nearly in two. The other Frenchman, who was close to him, made a rapid descent into the cabin.

“That was well meant, any how,” observed Roberts, looking at the dead body; “but it wasn’t meant for him. Shall I toss him overboard?”

“No, no—let him lie. If they capture us, they will perceive it was their own doing.”

“Well, then, I’ll only haul him into the lee-scuppers, out of the way.”

Another shot from the privateer passed through the cabin windows, and went forward into the hold. The French prisoner ran on deck with as much haste as before he had run below.

“Ay, it will be your turn next, my cock,” cried Roberts, who had been removing the body to the gunnel. “Now, let me try my luck again,” and he hastened to his gun. Newton fired before Roberts was ready. The topsail-sheet of the schooner was divided by the shot, and the sail flew out before the yard.

“That’s a good two cables’ length in our favour,” cried Roberts. “Now for me.” Roberts fired his gun, and was more fortunate; his shot struck away the fore-top-gallant mast, while the royal and top-gallant-sail fell before the topsail.

“Well done, my little piece of brass!” said Roberts, slapping the gun familiarly on the breech; “only get us out of our scrape, and I’ll polish you as bright as silver!”

Whether the gun understood him or not, or, what is more probable, the short distance between the brig and the privateer, made it more effective, more mischief took place in the sails and rigging of the schooner. Her topsail-sheet was, however, soon re-bent, the sail reset, and her other casualties made good. She ceased firing her long gun, and at dusk had crept up to within a quarter of a mile, and commenced a heavy fire of musketry upon the brig.

“This is rather warm work,” observed Williams at the helm, pointing to a bullet-hole through his jacket.

“Rather too warm,” observed Collins, the convict. “I don’t see why we are to risk our lives for our paltry share of prize-money. I vote for hauling down the colours.”

“Not yet,” said Newton, “not yet, my lads. Let us try a few shots more.”

“Try!—to be sure,” rejoined Roberts, “didn’t I say before, that a starn chase was a long one.”

“That only makes the matter worse,” replied Collins; “for while we are to be peppered this way, I think the shorter the chase the better. However, you may do as you please, but I’m not so fond of it;—so here’s down below to the fore-peak!”

“Ben, you’re a sensible chap, and gives good advice; we’ll just follow you,” said Hillson.

“Birds of a feather always flock together; so, Ben, I’m of your party,” added Thompson.

The convicts then descended forward out of the fire of the musketry, while Newton and Roberts continued to load and fire, and Williams steered the brig. The Frenchman had already found his way below again, before the convicts.

The schooner was within two cables’ length, and the fire of the musketry was most galling; each of the English seamen had received slight wounds, when, just as it was dark, one of the shot from the brig proved more effective. The main-boom of the schooner was either cut in two, or so much injured as to oblige them to lower her mainsail, The brig now increased her distance fast, and in a few minutes they lost sight of the schooner in the darkness of the night.

“Huzza!” cried Roberts, “didn’t I tell you that a starn chase was a long one?”

Not a star was to be seen; the darkness was intense, and Newton consulted with Williams and Roberts, as to what was their best plan of proceeding. It was agreed to haul up for a quarter of an hour, then furl all, and allow the privateer to pass them. This was put in execution; the convicts, now that there was no more firing, coming to their assistance. The next morning the weather proved hazy, and the schooner, who had evidently crowded sail in pursuit of them, was nowhere to be seen.

Newton and his crew congratulated themselves upon their escape, and again shaped their course for the Channel. The wind would not allow them to keep clear of Ushant, and two days afterwards they made the French coast, near to that island. The next morning they had a slant of wind, which enabled them to lay her head up for Plymouth, and anticipated that in another twenty-four hours they would be in safety. Such, however, was not their good fortune; about noon a schooner hove in sight to leeward, and it was soon ascertained to be the same vessel from which they had previously escaped. Before dusk she was close to them; and Newton, aware of the impossibility of resistance, hove-to, as a signal of surrender.