Part 4

“Suddenly a man on the fokstle exclaimed ‘Sail, O!’ Farmer started from his reverie, and every limb of his body was for an instant palsied; whilst the seamen, as if struck by an enchanter’s wand, stood motionless and still. ‘Sail, O!’ repeated the man. It aroused them from their stupor; a thousand sickly apprehensions rushed upon their minds, and all was instantly bustle and alarm. Farmer walked forward, and then hailed one of the quarter-masters to bring him the glass out of the cabin. The glass was brought,--it was the captain’s; and as he took it in his hand, it was plainly seen by the quick changes of his countenance, that there was a tempest in his soul.

“The sail was now distinctly visible about two points on the larboard beam, her hull rising from the water, and her masts showing she was a ship, whilst their position indicated she was crossing the frigate’s track. Farmer raised the glass to his eye; there was a breathless silence fore-and-aft. His look was long and earnest; not a muscle of his features moved, his very pulsation seemed to be suspended: at last, he gave a shivering gasp, and drew his breath convulsively. The coxswain approached, and took his spell at the glass, but his glance was only momentary; he returned it to Farmer. They looked in each other’s face, but neither spoke his thoughts.

“‘Bring Mr. Southcott on deck,’ exclaimed Farmer, ‘and see that he is well guarded.’

“In a few minutes Mr. Southcott, the master, was brought on to the fokstle, between two seamen with naked cutlasses and loaded pistols. The undaunted officer, expecting that the hour of his death had arrived, stood firm and erect in front of the mutineer, and his steady gaze fixed so intently upon him, that Farmer shrunk from before it. At length the latter said, ‘No harm is meant you, Mr. Southcott; but have the goodness to take the glass, and tell me what you make out yon ship to be,’ pointing towards it.

“‘Is there a sail?’ exclaimed the master. ‘Ay, I see it;--thank Heaven!’ and he took the glass.

“‘Her yards show square,’ said Farmer.

“‘They do,’ replied the master; ‘but the merchantmen now spread a broad cloth in these seas.’

“‘She has a middle and a royal stay-sail set,’ continued Farmer. The master assented.

“‘She is carrying every thing that can draw a cap-full of wind,’ said Farmer.

“‘She is so,’ replied the master; ‘but West-Indiamen have many flying kites nowadays.’

“‘Mr. Southcott,’ exclaimed Farmer in his harsh hoarse voice, ‘you know that yon hooker is no West-Indiaman. You would deceive me, sir--That new cloth in the main-top-sail, that milk-white flying jib, and the cloud of canvass that flutters from the main-yard tell me that it is the----’

“‘What?’ exclaimed the master, suddenly starting from the recumbent posture in which he had been looking at the ship, and again fixing his eyes upon his traitorous mate.

“‘Sail, O!’ shouted a man from the starboard cat-head; ‘a brig under the land, and a ship in-shore of her.’

“‘Yes, yes,’ said Farmer, ‘’tis the Favourite and the Drake; but their legs were never made to catch us. Come, Mr. Southcott, the name of the stranger yonder,’ pointing to the vessel first seen. ‘I wish the men to hear it from your lips, that they may think of running gantlines and hangman’s knots, and know their doom if they surrender.’ He again applied the glass to his eye; ‘she has bore up a couple of points, and is setting her studding-sails. Speak, sir! is it not the Mermaid?--You are silent, but it matters not. Take him below.’

“‘Yes, Farmer,’ said the master, ‘thank God, it is the Mermaid, and therefore you cannot hope to escape. Your captain and officers are murdered by your orders--’

“‘Nay, nay, not by my orders, Mr. Southcott,’ said Farmer. ‘We have all been tarred with the same brush; but what would you propose?’

“‘Resign the command you have assumed to me,’ replied the master; ‘and men!’ he shouted at the top of his voice, ‘mistaken men, return to your--’

“‘Silence, sir!’ thundered Farmer, clapping his hand to the master’s mouth; and then turning to the men who had crowded up from below and filled the fokstle and gangways, he said, ‘Shipmates, yon sail is our old consort, the Mermaid. Mr. Southcott proposes you should surrender, and of course all of us know our doom. But though, mayhap, some may be spared by royal mercy--such mercy as you have already had, which of you can point out the men? No, no, my lads, we’ve gone too far to retract; and for my part, I would rather flash a pistol in the magazine than again serve under British bunting, even if my life were sure. What do you say, men?’

“The seamen crowded together, irresolute; the petty officers gathered round Farmer, whilst those who had been least active in the mutiny seemed half inclined to follow the counsel of the master. ‘Shipmates!’ said Farmer, ‘I wish to try your mettle. Think of a public execution! The yard-rope rove, the signal gun, and a death of infamy! Most of you have had your noble bravery and gallant daring already rewarded with the cat; but what is a dozen or two at the gang-way, compared with flogging through the fleet! and with left-handed boatswains’ mates to cross the lashes! But our case is far from desperate; we have handled the gun-tackles before to-day, even if it should come to the worst.’

“‘You will not dare to fight,’ said the master; ‘or if you do, where are those intrepid men who directed all your movements? Farmer, I am told it was your hand that struck-down my poor messmate, Douglas; it was a damnable deed, for you must have remembered that he saved your life last April, when cutting out at Jean Rabel--’

“‘Take him below!’ roared Farmer. ‘This is no time to think or talk of the past; and d’ye mind me, Mr. Southcott, clap a stopper on your tongue, or else--; you understand me, sir.’

“‘I do,’ replied the master, ‘and defy you. What! have I been playing at ducks and drakes with death so many years, and fear to meet him now? My king, my country demand my services, and when I disgrace my colours, then brand me traitor, and--’

“‘Away with him!’ again shouted Farmer, ‘and if he offers to speak, gag him with a wet nipper. Away with him! I say,’ and the master was dragged off the deck. Farmer then turned to the petty officers, ‘Shipmates, we must speedily decide. What say you, Oates?’

“‘She is yet four or five miles off; let us crack on studding-sails alow and aloft, and my life for it we run her hull down by dark.’

“‘The Mermaid has the heels of us, going free,’ replied Farmer, ‘and could spare us the t’galln’t-sails. Should we make sail, ’twill only arouse suspicion. Your advice, Jennings.’

“‘We could always fore-reach and weather upon the Mermaid on a bow-line,’ answered the man addressed; ‘so why not haul to the wind on the starboard tack, go between the islands, and make for the first port?’

“‘Yes,’ said Farmer with a sneer, ‘and there are two cruisers now in sight in-shore of us; we know the Magician and the Zephyr are somewhere in the neighbourhood; it certainly would be wise to run into their jaws. Speak, shipmate,’ turning to the coxswain, ‘what’s to be done?’

“‘We might get close in-shore, abandon the frigate, and take to the boats,’ replied the coxswain.

“‘And going without compensation in our hands,’ rejoined Farmer, ‘be delivered up as mutineers, or confined in dungeons as prisoners of war! We have no further time for argument; men, will you obey my orders, or shall I here abandon you to your fate?’

“‘Every man will obey,’ was shouted by the crew, ‘either to fight or fly!’

“‘’Tis well,’ replied Farmer. ‘Brace the yards up, and let her come to the wind on the larboard tack; afterguard, rig the whip and wash the decks down. Topmen, away aloft; keep snugly to leeward,--see that all your studding-sail gear is properly rove, and have every thing ready for shaking out a reef and setting the royals. Boatswain’s mates, send a gang below to bring the hammocks up; and, quarter-masters, to your stations in stowing them. Call the gunner’s crew, and tell them to go round the quarters and see everything in its place. Signal-man! bend the colours at the peak, and have our number ready to show at the main. Main-top there!--stand by to hoist the pennant, and mind it blows out clear. Be smart, my lads: one lubberly act would make them suspect that Captain P---- was not on board, or that his cat had lost its tails.’

“In a few minutes every man was at his appointed station, and the duty was carrying on with as much alacrity and attention as if nothing had happened. The Mermaid, a two-and-thirty gun frigate, was nearing them fast, and the cruisers in-shore were stretching out from the land to join her.

“‘The frigate is speaking to us with his bunting, sir,’ exclaimed the signal-man; ‘she is showing her distinguishing pennants.’

“Farmer clapped his hands in ecstacy. ‘By Heaven! it never struck me Captain P---- was the senior captain. Hoist the ensign and pennant;--bear a hand with the number, and see that the flags blow clear!’ He directed his glass to the Mermaid, and looked intently for a minute or two. ‘She sees it:--haul down! And now, my lad, make the Mermaid’s signal to make all sail in chase to the north-east: bend on the preparatory flag at the main and her pennants at the mizen, and have all ready abaft to telegraph;--it will amuse the fools and keep them from being too familiar. Is the signal hoisted?’

“‘Ay, ay, sir,’ replied the signal-man, ‘there it flies in as many colours as a dying dolphin;--and there goes the answering pennant at the frigate’s main; haul down, my boys.’

“The moody gloom left Farmer’s brow, as he saw by the Mermaid’s manœuvring that his signal had been obeyed. He then bore up again to the westward, telegraphed that he was going in chase, crowded his canvass on every spar that would spread a cloth, and soon had a clear horizon all around him.

“But though Farmer had determined to run for the Spanish main, yet he was not sufficiently acquainted with the coast to know the appearance of the land. Mr. Southcott, therefore, was brought on deck, and partly through compulsion and partly through a desire of getting clear of the mutineers, he carried the ship off La Guayra, where she was ultimately surrendered to the Spanish authorities, Farmer declaring that they had turned their officers adrift in the jolly-boat, though the real fact was very soon afterwards explained to the Spaniards. The master, the gunner, the carpenter and two midshipmen of those saved were sent to prison; but the mutineers received twenty-five dollars a man, a great many of them became double traitors by entering for the frigate under the Spanish flag, and Farmer was appointed second captain. The first captain’s name, I’m told, was Gallows,[1] so that his junior must have been pretty often reminded of it.

[1] I have since ascertained that it was Don Raymond de Chalas.

“Admiral Harvey, on hearing of all the circumstances, sent a flag of truce to demand the frigate and the mutineers; but though the Spaniards were made acquainted with the horrible murders that had been committed when the ship was taken possession of, yet they not only refused to deliver her up, but actually put six more guns aboard of her, making altogether forty-four, and with a crew of nearly four hundred men, she was fitted out and made a voyage to San Domingo, very narrowly escaping the British cruisers who were all on the alert to pick her up.”

“And this, your honour,” said my chaperon, “is old Hughes’s story, and that’s the ship there it’s all about.”

I had been deeply interested in his narrative, which he related with peculiar feeling, and some parts were almost dramatised by his singular gestures and manner. “And what became of the boatswain’s wife?” I inquired.

“Fanny Martin, sir?” he replied; “why I think she left La Guayra in a neutral, and so got to Halifax, but I arn’t quite sure.”

“And now, then,” said I, “for some account of her recapture. Can you tell me how it happened, and what the picture before us is actually designed to represent?”

“Why no, your honour, I can’t do that exactly,” rejoined he, “seeing as I knows but little about it; but there’s a messmate of mine yonder who was on that station at the time, and can give you the particulars; but he’s a dry soul, your honour, and mayhap would like a taste of the spirit-room, if your honour has no objections; ’twill loose his tongue a bit, and give it freer play.”

“One word for my friend and two for myself,” thought I; but sensible that “freshening the nip” would prevent too much chafing, I readily consented, and the old blades _piped_ to grog with a _gusto_ that can only be acquired by long habit.

We were soon seated in a comfortable room overlooking the Thames. It was nearly high-water, and the middle of summer; a delightful breeze tempered the heat, the green fields looked beautifully below and opposite to us, whilst the vessels were rapidly passing and chequering the scene with their white sails. The steamers, too, were swiftly cutting through the yielding element, and the whole presented a spectacle of commercial wealth that can be witnessed on no other river in the world. I own I feel a very great pride in contemplating the glory and the gratitude of my country; and when I see her gallant tars who have braved the war of elements and battled the enemies of England, snugly enjoying their _old age_ in their _berths_, chewing their _pigtail_ with a knowing _quid pro quo_, and occasionally cheering the heart with the balsam that maketh it glad, I cannot help exclaiming, “nobly should a grateful country be served, and thus be rewarded her brave defenders!” Besides, within the small compass of this beautiful place, we can meet with practical information from every part of the globe. Talk of your geographies! here are the living _pages_ that wait on Time,--men that have breakfasted on a whale with the Esquimaux, dined on an elephant with the Hottentots, and supped upon a snake sixty feet long with the Red Indians;--men who have bearded the lions, shook paws with the tiger, and rode races on alligators. They have seen the holy city, visited the ancient capitol of the world, and have passed over the identical spot where Jonah was swallowed by the whale. Greenwich Hospital is a very storehouse for knowledge,--a perfect College, in which the old tars take their _degrees_ as natural as when running down a trade-wind,--have their _senior wranglers_, their M.A. for master-at-arms, their B.A. for boatswain’s-assistant, enjoy good fellowship over a glass of grog, and are staunch supporters of _cannon_ law.

We found several of these well filled volumes--_damme-quart-hos_--already ranged in the room before our arrival, and, like our old friend Colburn, they were mighty busy in _puffing_ off their works, as if trying to hide the authors under a cloud of smoke.

“Ay, ay,” exclaimed a crojack-eyed old blade, “them there pursers’ accounts of prize-money showed but a poor figure in the foremast-man’s log, whatever they did in the skipper’s journal. They used to sift it through a hatchway grating,--all that went down was for the officers, and all that stayed above came to the tarry jackets.”

“You’re right there, Jem,” said a veteran boatswain’s-mate, whose voice was not unlike a gale of wind sighing to a kitchen fire through the hollow of a chimney-pot, “perfectly right; and then they make out the prize-list much in the same way as the nigger accounted for his pig. D’ye see, his master gave him three dollars to go to market and buy a pig; but the black rascal came back drunk, without his money and without his cargo. ‘Holla!’ said his master, ‘how came you drunk, sir? and where’s the pig?’ ‘Ah, massa,’ says the nigger, ‘me nebber drunk, but giddy wid long chase.’ ‘Where’s the dollars I gave you?’ asked the master. ‘Me gie ’em to buy pig,’ said the black. ‘What, three dollars?’ cried the master. ‘Tan littly bit, massa, me telle you. First me gib dollar for pig’ ‘Well, that’s only one dollar,’ said the master. ‘Tan littly bit,’ puzzled the nigger; ‘den me hab pig for dollar,--dat two dollar, massa; den de pig run away, and gib dollar for catch a pig--dat tree dollar, massa. Den him dam pig run in a bush like a debbil, and nebber see him no more noder time.’ So it was with the prize-money; there was dollar for Jack, and Jack for dollar; and if Jack ran away, he lost all, and was made to look _dolor_-ous into the bargain, if ever they cocht him again. My best sarvice to your honour, and hope no offence.” He lifted his pewter to his lips, and took a most persevering draught to qualify the toast.

“Jack Maberly,” said my worthy conductor, addressing the last speaker, “the gentleman wants to hear a little about the recapture of the Harmoine, and Bill Jennings is just agoing to tell his honour the long and the short of it, if you’ll be good enough to keep silence fore-and-aft.”

“I wull, I wull, messmate,” replied the old boatswain’s-mate.

Bill Jennings, the very _beau ideal_ of a main-topman in long togs, applied his muzzle to the grog, as he said, “to clear his throat of scupper-nails;” and having swallowed almost enough to float a jolly-boat, after sundry hems and divers sluings to make sure of his stowage, gave the following account of

The Recapture of the Hermione.

“As for them there cutting outs, (he began) why I’ve had a pretty good share on ’em in my time, seeing as how I’ve been with some of them there fire-eating chaps as would cut out the devil himself from under a heavy fire, if so be as his reverence warn’t moored with chains. To my thinking, there’s more to rouse the nat-ral spirit of man in boarding than in laying at long shots and hitting each other spitefully; for if a fellow does work an eyelet hole in your canvass where it arn’t wanted, you have the chance of damaging some of his spars in return, and that’s what I calls fair play. Bekase, messmates, setting a case as this here--it’s cut for cut, and damn all favours. Now at long shot you never can tell who hits you, and that’s what I call a sort of incendiary act; but at close quarters you can always tell who lends you a rap, and you can pay him agin; and if he falls, then you can stand his friend and take care of him. But nevertheless, messmates,--as many on you knows,--that same cutting out is sharp work for the eyes, as the monkey said when he hugged the cat, particularly where the boarding-nettings are triced up and the enemy is prepared for you; but there warn’t a ship on the West Ingee station but would have gladly undertaken the recapture of the Harmoine, bekase the whole affair had been a disgraceful consarn, and had placed the cha-rackter of a British tar like a yankee schooner jammed betwixt two winds,--nobody knew which way she’d tend. Well, messmates, the job fell to the Surprise, 28, an old French 24, called the Unity when she was taken by the Inconstant, in the beginning of the year 96. Howsomever, messmates, she kept up both names, as it were; for never was there a ship with more unity among the men, and she surprised the Spaniards by the daring impudence they displayed. The Harmoine had made a run or two from San Domingo, and in September, 99, our admiral, ould Sir Hyde Parker, received intelligence that she was going to make another trip to Havana, and the Surprise was sent to cruise off Cape Saint Romar to intercept her. The whole of the little frigate’s complement was 197, men and boys, but there warn’t so many as that on board, and with this force Captain Hamilton was to attack a ship carrying 44 guns, and having nearly 400 men;--but they didn’t calculate odds in them days. Well, d’ye see, she got upon her station about the middle of October, and kept a sharp look-out, dodging off and on, but keeping at a fair distance, so that the prize might not be afraid of leaving port. Well, day after day they watched, but nothing hove in sight bigger than a land-crab; so what does the captain do, but being tired of waiting, he cuts out some vessels from under the island of Amber, to keep the men from getting idle, and then runs off of Porto Cabello, and there sure enough lay the Harmoine all ataunt-o, every stick on end, sails bent, t’-gallant yards crossed, and a whacking large Spanish ensign and pennant flying;--but mark me, messmates, she was moored head and starn betwixt two heavy batteries, the smallest of which could have blowed the little frigate out of the water, and cut her up like junk.

“It was a beautiful evening, when the saucy Surprise stood close in to reckoniter;--there was a fine breeze and smooth water, and the craft worked like a top. They could see the sodgers at the batteries and the men on board the enemy all at their quarters, and the gun-boats were pulling out to take up convenient positions; though there warn’t a man among ’em believed the ship could be taken, yet they knew damned well the Englishmen would try.

“Well, next day Captain Hamilton hove-to, just without range of shot, and challenged the Harmoine to come out; but she took no notice of it, and so the Surprise made sail, stood into the mouth of the harbour, and fired at her. The batteries opened their palaver; but the little ship hauled off without a shot touching her, and the lazy lubberly Spaniards, more than two to one in men and metal, didn’t dare to show their yellow rag outside the port. So the ship’s company, fore-and-aft, wondered what the captain would be at, and they grinned like so many cat-heads to think they couldn’t get a fair slap at her. But the captain was up in the main-top with a round jacket on,--stretched out at full length with his glass resting on the top-brim, and most earnestly overhauling their consarns in-shore, so that an old woman couldn’t stir out of doors, nor a rat move on the Harmoine’s decks without his seeing it. The master was up in the fore-top upon the same lay, and they kept hailing each other about different consarns till they made every thing out as plain as the grog-blossoms on Darby’s nose there. [The individual alluded to gave a chuckle something between a grunt and a laugh, and applied his fingers to an enormous red proboscis, that certainly seemed the tell-tale of a besetting sin.] Well, d’ye mind, they kept at this all day long, dodging about and in-and-out, like a dog in a fair, till the men got quite tantalized and jaundiced at seeing so much of the yellow bunting,--for the enemy had hoisted it every where out of bravado.