Part 6

“Them land-crabs have a power of strength,” said old Darby. “I recollects one night being beached high and dry in the small cutter, and I boat-keeper; so I catches one of these beasts, and claps him under the bows of the boat, whilst I made fast the painter to his hind leg, and then away he stretched out for the water, dragging the cutter with him as if it had been no more than a mouldy biscuit, and if I hadn’t cut the painter pretty smartly, he’d have towed us out to sea in no time.”

“The legs of these crabs must be very long,” said I; “are their bodies in proportion?”

“Why no, your honour,” replied the boatswain’s-mate; “their bodies are but small, seeing that they are all ribs and trucks; but their claws are tremendous. What d’ye think of their reaching up to the top of a gibbet, and having unhooked a pirate that was hung in chains, walked off with him, hoops and all, so that he never was found again!”

“If it really happened,” I replied, “it is truly astonishing.”

“Really happened!” cried the veteran somewhat scornfully. “Ax them as was watching down at Cabrita-point that night, and see if they won’t swear to it.”

“Perhaps it was some of the friends of the pirate who removed the body,” I ventured to suggest.

“Now that comes of your honour’s not knowing nothing of the country,” he rejoined; “for, d’ye mind, all the rogue’s friends were thieves, and if it had been any of them, they’d not only have carried off the body, but would have stole the gibbet for fire-wood, which a land-crab has no manner of use for.”

This certainly was unanswerable, and I forbore asking any more questions on that subject.

“I remember, when I was a boy,” said ----, “I sailed out of Dover in a by-boat under Captain Hammond over to Calais, and Bullun, and Ostend; and there was an ould woman who they used to call Mother Mount, lived at the back of the York Hotel, and she constantly placed herself on the steps of her door observationing the people that passed up and down the street. Captain Hammond never went past the house but he jeered her for a witch, and every body said she was one; till one day, just as we were going across with a good freight of passengers, the ould Jezabel spoke some hard words to the skipper, as he was coming down to the craft to sail out of the harbour. He made no more to do but to spit at her. ‘The curse of the defenceless and childless widow be upon you!’ she cried out. ‘You are bound across the channel, but there are those will be there before you. You will think yourself secure, but woe, and danger, and wreck, shall come at a time when you think not of it, for my curse is upon you!’ The captain came on board in no very gentle humour, and away we went with a flowing sheet for Calais. Our passage was short, but we struck very heavily in crossing the bar, though the water was as smooth as a mill-pond, and every timber in the craft sneered again. The mate, fearing she would gripe-to and run upon the pier-head, was going to ease the throat-halliards; but the captain hollaed out, ‘Hold on till all’s blue; it’s only Mother Mount at her tricks.’ Well, at last we got safe in and hauled alongside the key in the outer-harbour, where we made fast stem and starn and cleared decks.”

“Upon my word, that’s a tough yarn,” said I; “and so you really think it was Mother Mount that bumped you ashore in that fashion.”

“It isn’t for men without larning or edecation such as me to say their say positively,” answered the pensioner, “but--[giving his quid a severe turn]--if I am to speak my mind, I think it was. Well, sir, the captain went ashore to dine with a French gentleman, and when he came aboard again he was rather too much by the head on account of the wine he had hoisted in, and somehow or other it had got stowed away in his fore-peak; so he yawed about like a Dutch schuyt on the Dogger-bank, and almost his last words at turning-in were ‘D-- Mother Mount!’ Well, we all went to our hammocks, and the mate left word for one of the hands to turn out and ’tend her at tide-time, as it looked breezy away to the sou-west. The vessel floated about two o’clock in the morning, and soon afterwards we heard the most tremendous hallo-bulloo upon deck, and the captain swearing in a mixture of high Dutch, low Dutch, Jarman and French, with not a small sprinkling of English dammees. Up the ladder we ran, and there he was with a handspike in his hand thrashing about and stamping fore-and-aft, like a wild pig in a squall. We got him appeased at last, and then he pointed to the mooring ropes; and, sure enough, the head-fast was cast off and partly hauled in-board, and the starn-fast had only a single turn, just ready for letting go when she had winded; the foresail was partly up, and the jib hooked all ready for hauling out. We made all fast and snug again, but the skipper kept raving till daylight in his cabin about Mother Mount and her imps.”

“But what about the imps, my old boy,” exclaimed I; “you’ve said nothing yet about imps. Did they have tails too?”

“Indeed and by all accounts they had, sir,” replied the old man; “for though the skipper was a long time silent about it, yet it came out at last, and he solemnly attested it in his last moments on his death-bed to a clergyman. He declared that whilst he was sleeping something struck his temples so hard that it made the vessel shake again----.”

“Why, he was dreaming to be sure,” said I, “the thump was caused by the vessel just beginning to lift, and the swell rolling in made her strike against the piles. Pray, had the man who was ordered to ’tend her at tide-time got up upon the look-out when the master went on deck?”

“I carn’t say as he was, sir,” answered the veteran, “though I rather think not.”

“Well, go on, my old friend,” requested I, “let’s get to the imps.”

“After receiving one or two heavy blows,” continued the pensioner, “the skipper woke, and he thought he heard a shrill squeaking voice above say, ‘Bear a hand with that foresail and jib, and haul in the head-rope;’ and then there was a sort of a scrambling noise afore the windlass, and another chock aft by the starn lockers. So he slips on his pea-jacket and creeps up the companion, and there he saw five or six monstrous rats forward; two were hoisting the foresail, two were hooking on the jib, one was hauling in the head-rope, and another was shoving her bows off. Abaft was a rat bigger than all the rest, standing at the tiller and giving orders, and another had got hold of the quarter-rope and was singling the turns. You may well guess the ould chap was in a terrible taking at first; his teeth chattered like the palls of a windlass when they shorten in a slack cable; his knees knocked together----”

“Then he was knock-kneed,” said I, laughing heartily. “Really this is a clever tale: first, the old woman makes a threat, then she plays you a _mount-a-bank_ trick, and lastly _rat_ ifies her promise by----”

“I have not got to that yet, sir,” replied the old man, interrupting in his turn; “but you shall hear all about it, if you will only give me time.” He then continued, “Notwithstanding the tremblification the skipper was in at first, he wasn’t a man as was easily to be daunted in the long run; and seeing he was part owner of the craft as well as master, I’m thinking he was afraid they wouldn’t carry her out safely, and mayhap he thought they might turnout to be pi_rats_----”

“That’s half a pun, old boy,” said I; “why your _pirats_ would have made a splendid _rat-pie_, upon short allowance.”

“By all accounts one of ’em would have been meal for half a dozen messes,” replied the _matter-of-fact_ old man. “But as I was a saying, sir, ould Hammond determined that at least he’d be master of his own cutter; for in those days the by-boats had running bowsprits, though they generally carried them over the stem to make most room; and also, that his own crew knew her trim and could work her best, he jumps up upon deck and catches hold of a----”

“A _rat_ tan, or a piece of _rat_ line stuff,” said I, interrupting him.

“No, sir,” answered the veteran rather testily; “he catches hold of a handspik, and began to hammer away like a fellow beating saltpetre bags in an Ingeeman’s hould at Diamond-harbour; and by the time we got upon deck, there wasn’t a rat to be seen nigh hand; though I must say I saw two or three dark objects in the distance running down towards the pier-head, and there was some thing like a man on his hands and knees slowly crawling after them. Howsomever, as I said before, the decks were cleared of the warmin, and we made all fast again.”

“And did you never hear any other explanation of the affair?” inquired I.

“Why,” replied the pensioner, “there was a report that some English and French smugglers broke out of prison that night, and they tried to make the skipper believe that he was deceived as to the rats; but the thing was impossible, for how could the smuggler get through the great gates and pass the sentries? Besides they wouldn’t have turned tail that fashion for one ould man.”

“But the alarm, old boy,” exclaimed I; “the skipper gave an alarm, and the _rats_ were afraid of being _trapped_ again.”

“Why, for the matter o’ that, sir,” assented the veteran, “he did kick up a bit of a bobbery, I own; and the do-oneers came running down from the watch-house, but nobody was taken.”

“That’s curious, too,” said I, “but had they no other means of escape?”

“Why, they did say,” replied the old tar, “that a fishing-boat was missing from somewhere about the mouth of the harbour; but the captain swore to the rats, and ever afterwards used to give the ould woman a trifle of money or so, and speak kindly to her. And d’ye see, sir, I’m thinking that Captain Hammond couldn’t be mistaken as to the rats, because why?--a rat hasn’t a head like a Christian; and then his tail,--no Christian has a tail like a spanker boom over his starn, and so I’ll stick to the rats, for I verily believe they were nothing else.”

“No doubt,” said I, addressing the boatswain’s-mate, “you have seen a great deal of hard service. Have you been in many battles?”

“Why yes, your honour,” he replied, “I’ve had my share of it; but notwithstanding the many chafes I got, if another war was to break out, and I was fifty years younger, provided I could get a good captain and a sweet ship, worthy messmates and a full allowance of grog, I’d sooner sarve in a man-of-war than in any other craft whatsomever. But mark my words, we shan’t never have another such a navy as the last. Arn’t they _arming_ the ships on purpose for them to make use of their _legs_, and run away? What would ould Benbow or Duncan have said to this, with their round starns and chase batteries? Arn’t the fleet got the _dry-rot_ with fundungus, and don’t the new regulations bid fair to give the men the _dry-rot_ too? Who the deuce could weather a storm or engage an enemy upon a pint of grog a-day? But as long as there’s a shot in the locker, it shall go hard but we’ll queer the purser somehow or other, after all.

“I remember Jack Traverse once, and a worthy soul Jack was too, going off at Spithead to join the old Gorgon. Well, d’ye see, as the wherry came from the starboard side to pull up to the larboard gangway, Jack, who had been bowsing his jib up, caught sight of the name painted in gold upon the starn, and so he endeavoured to see what he could make of it; but being cro-jack eyed, and his brains all becalmed, he began, like a dull skull-hard, to spell it backward. ‘N-o, no,’ says Jack, ‘that’s as plain as Beachy Head in a fog; so this arn’t the ship, d’ye mind! Howsomever, let us see what her name is. N-o, no; that’s right; g-r-o-g, grog. Yes, I’m blessed if it arn’t, and both together makes NO GROG! About ship, waterman, she won’t do for me; why, I should be waterlogged in a week, so bear up for the next ship, d’ye hear.’

“The navy, your honour, is the pillars of the state; but if the props are unsound, the whole heady-phiz must tumble to the dust; and oh, to see the flag under which I’ve fought and bled--that flag, whose influence caused such signal exertions in the fleet ‘when Nelson gained the day,’--humbled before the white rag of a Frenchman, or pecked at by the double-headed eagle!--nay, what is worse, degraded in the sight of the stripes and stars! My fervent prayer is, that before the day arrives, these old bones may be hove-down for a full due, and buried in the hollow wave. ’Twould break my heart.

“Howsomever, all this comes of trying to make Jack a gentle-man, a title he once despised; but what with the quibble hums of lawyers, and the comflobgistications of parsons, his head gets filled with proclamations, and his brains whirl round like the dog-vane in a calm. I beg your honour’s pardon, though, for troubling you with so many of my remarks upon the subject; but it must be evident to every body that tars have arrived at a bad pitch, and though I’m no croaker, (I don’t mean him as was at the Admiralty,) yet my spirit is stirred up and must have vent. I sees they have tried to put a stop to smuggling, by taking off the duties. That is as it should be; but there’s another thing I wish, and that is, to get a petition to parley-ment for all the old hard-a-weathers at Greenwich to have their ’bacca duty free. Why, sir, it would be an act of piety; and the worthy old quidnuncs when they take their chaw, or blow a cloud, would bless ’em for it.

“Talking about smuggling, reminds me of a circumstance that happened off Dungeness, when I was in that gallant ship, the Triumph, seventy-four. We were running up channel for the Downs with Dungeness light on our larboard beam, and it was about six bells in the middle watch, when the look-out on the fokstle reported, that there was a lugger close under our bows. ‘Give him a gun,’ cried the officer of the watch. The shot was fired and the lugger instantly let fly her fore-sheet, and rounded to. ‘From whence came you?’ hailed the lieutenant. ‘Wha waw,’ replied the lugger. ‘What the devil place is that?’ said the officer; and again raising the speaking trumpet,--‘where are you bound to?’--‘Wha waw,’ was once more returned. ‘The fellow’s making game of us, sir,’ said the officer to the captain, who, hearing the report of the gun, had come out of his cabin. ‘Shall I board him, sir?’--‘Yes, Mr. ----, lower the quarter-boat down, and see what he is.’

“Well, away we went, and as we pulled towards him, the lieutenant would have it the lugger was a French privateer; but the coxswain, an old hand at the trade, replied, ‘No, sir, she’s no privateer, and I thinks I can _smell_ a secret at this distance. There’s no guns, sir, and but few hands. Eh, eh, we shall see presently.’--‘What are you laden with?’ inquired the officer as soon as we got alongside, and he had jumped upon the deck. ‘What is your cargo?’--‘Bacon and eggs,’ replied a veteran, whose gray locks peeped from underneath a slouched hat, and partly concealed a weather-beaten countenance, where the breakers and time had made deep furrows; ‘bacon and eggs, sir.’--‘It’s of no use axing that man, sir,’ said the coxswain. ‘I can tell him in a minute; he’s brought his hogs to a fine market, and as for eggs,--why, he’s chock full of tubs, your honour, (lifting up the grating.) Ay, there they are, indeed, like eggs in a gull’s nest. There they are, sir; it makes a fellow’s mouth water to look at them. Mayn’t we have a toothful your honour? It’s hard to starve in a land of plenty! I’d only knock one small hole in this head here,’ giving it a thump with the tiller that was nearly accomplishing the purpose.

“‘Avast, avast, sir!’ cried the lieutenant: ‘this is smuggled, and now we must seize it for his majesty.’--‘For his Majesty! all that for his Majesty!’ cries the coxswain. ‘Why, God bless your honour, he’ll never be able to get through the half of it, even though the Prince of Wales should lend him a hand, and I hear he’s no flincher from the gravy. I’m sure, sir, none of the royal family would miss the want of as much as would comfort the heart of a tar in such a raw morning as this, especially as we would drink their healths in a bumper, and that would do ’em more good than swallowing all this here stuff!’--‘Not another word,’ said the officer. ‘Jump into your boat, and (turning to the old man) do you follow him, for I must take you with me!’ The poor fellow was obliged to comply, though he made a good many wry faces, and begged hard; but all to no purpose. So the cutter shoved off, sadly deploring that _all hands_ were so nigh _hollands_, and yet without being able to moisten their clay with a sup before breakfast.

“‘What is she?’ inquired captain E--, as the lieutenant came up the side. ‘A smuggler, sir,’ was the answer. ‘A smuggler, eh!’ cried the captain, ‘and so (addressing the old man) you are one of those lawless characters who run all hazards to run your goods and beach your tubs, bidding defiance to danger and death? What have you to say for yourself?’--‘Sir,’ replied the hoary seaman uncovering his head, and displaying a face where cool determination was struggling with painful sensations, ‘sir, whatever I can say will, perhaps, avail me nothing. The necessities of a large family and numerous distresses have driven me to my present state. All I possess in the world is now in your power, and you are able in one moment, not only to deprive me of liberty, but also to reduce me and mine to utter misery and beggary. For myself, I care but little; but for my fatherless grandchildren,’--he wrung a tear from his eye, and dashed it off in agony; but his countenance almost instantly resumed the stern serenity which appeared to mark his character. Captain E. and the lieutenant took a turn or two aft in deep conversation. At last, eight bells came and the morning watch was turned out. ‘Send all hands on deck,’ said the captain to the boatswain’s-mate, ‘and bear a hand about it.’

“Well, we all mustered aft on the quarter-deck; and the captain, standing on the gratings of the after-hatchway, exclaimed--‘My lads, this old rascal’s a smuggler, and there’s his vessel, your prize. He says our detaining him will be the ruin of himself and family; and how much shall we obtain for plunging a fellow-creature and a countryman into hopeless misery? Why, our gin will be transmogrified into port for the agents and lawyers, and perhaps you would share about nine-pence a-man. Mine and the officers would amount to about twenty pounds, which we are ready to forego,--nay more, I am ready to give you that sum out of my own pocket. So what d’ye say, lads? shall we make him splice the main-brace, and let the old rogue go?’ A simultaneous ‘Ay, ay, sir,’ resounded from all hands. ‘Well, then, my men, we’ll have six tubs out of him for that purpose; so jump into the boat again, and you old Blow-hard must swear through thick and thin that you have never set eyes upon us!’ The old man turned round, fell upon his knees, and, laying his hand upon his heart, poured forth a volley of thanks; but just as he was going over the side,--‘Avast,’ cried the captain, ‘you must swear upon the binnacle never to divulge what has taken place.’ This was done, and the smuggler returned to the boat with a lighter heart than when he entered it at first.

“Away we pulled alongside the lugger; but, when their master told them they were clear, my eyes! the men were like wild fellows, and would have swamped us with tubs. ‘Only six, Mr. E,’ cried the captain from the gangway: ‘if you bring more, I shall send you back with them.’ But we had plenty to drink, and then stood for our ship again.

“Well, d’ye see, the six tubs were placed under the poop-awning; and as soon as the captain had turned in, the lieutenant sent two of them to the captain’s cabin, one to the ward-room, one to the midshipmen’s berth, and another to the warrant-officers’ mess, leaving only a solitary tub for the whole of the ship’s company.

“Well, d’ye see, at day-light out came the captain again and looked for the stuff ‘Why, Mr. ----, where--where--what have you done with the grog?’ The officer told him how it had been disposed of. ‘No, no,’ says the skipper: ‘fair play’s a jewel, sir: have it all on deck directly, and let every man fore-and-aft share alike. I shall only take my allowance with the rest, that all hands may be tarred by the same brush.’ So the stuff was started into the wash-deck-tub, and equally divided among officers and crew.”

Here the boatswain’s-mate ceased, and took a determined pull from his pewter, whilst the various groupes assembled (for our numbers had increased,) were all unanimous in voting Captain E---- to be “a generous soul, what ’ud always see a poor fellow righted in the long run,” and each had some anecdote to relate respecting him; but as all were talking at the same moment, it was impossible to collect them.

“I was with him,” exclaimed an old pensioner, “off Scamperdown, when Duncan fought the Dutch fleet, and we engaged and took the Worser-never; and after she struck, we stood on and attacked the Fry-hard, that carried ould Winter’s flag,--blue at the main. It was just arter the mutiny too, and some of our hands went from the bilboes to their guns. But Captain E---- knew the stuff a blue jacket was made on, and was glad of the opportunity of rubbing off old scores with the gunner’s sponge.”