Part 9

In the early part of the morning I was accosted by a gentlemanly man, who offered me a seat in a post-chaise. This I gladly accepted, and found he was a naval officer about to join his ship at Plymouth, and he proposed my serving my country. The world was all before me, and to my romantic mind there was a magic in the expression, and before another day had elapsed I was entered on the books of the Amphion frigate as a volunteer. There was no time for reflection; I was wearied with my journey, sleep overpowered my faculties, and before the dawn arose the ship was out at sea. Never shall I forget my sensations when I first beheld the expanse of ocean, without a single speck to break its monotonous appearance. Blue waters all around and the clear heaven above, while the tall ship, reflecting her image on the waves, passed majestically through the briny element.

I was ignorant of etiquette, and without ceremony respectfully addressed my friend, the lieutenant; but he repulsed my familiarity with coldness, and directed a lad to take me to his cabin, where he immediately joined me. Here he explained the nature of the service, and the distance which it was deemed necessary to keep up between the officers and crew. He then made inquiry as to my clothes, and generously supplied me with some linen from his own stock. The ship’s tailor altered one of his jackets, and in a short time I was equipped as a sailor. But, ah, how many hours of bitter mortification and anguish did I undergo! I had every thing to learn, was often ill-used, and every day increased the distance from all I loved, without being able to inform them of my situation, as the frigate was bound to the East Indies. Remorse prayed upon my mind; I had not contemplated leaving England, much more leaving it without letting them know where I was; but now their affectionate hearts were wrung with my indiscretion. Agnes too!--but the remembrance of the sweet girl was ever accompanied by the recollection of the blow I had received from her brother, and I determined to persevere in the profession in which I had engaged.

The lieutenant was my sincere friend; he took every opportunity to promote my interests, and I endeavoured by all the means in my power to profit by his kindness and to testify my gratitude. At first, I was much persecuted by the seamen and the other boys; but when they found me desirous of learning and attentive to my duty, every one conspired to render me assistance, and I soon became a favourite with both officers and men. On one occasion, whilst the ship was lying nearly becalmed, one of the junior midshipmen, as he was playing about the rigging, fell overboard; I instantly dashed into the sea, and supported him from sinking till a boat was lowered down and took us up. This act, for which I claim no merit, brought me under the immediate notice of the captain, who witnessed it, and I was removed to the quarter deck to do duty as a midshipman. Every one expressed satisfaction at my promotion, and my new messmates vied with each other in manifesting their generous feelings.

After a passage of four months, we arrived at Madras, and I lost no time in acquainting my parents with my destination; but, unfortunately, the letter never reached their hands, as the ship which conveyed it was wrecked off the Cape of Good Hope, and every soul perished. Scarcely had we time to refit and victual, when orders were received to proceed to the China seas, as two French frigates had been seen cruising among the islands. Thither we hastened, and continued our search after them for six months, but without success, and at the expiration of that time we returned to Madras. It would be useless for me to enumerate the many places we visited during our stay in India, which occupied upwards of three years. Despatches were prepared for us, and we sailed for England.

Throughout the whole period of my absence, I had never heard from home; but still the fond remembrances of early enjoyments in that sweet spot clung to my soul, and Agnes in all her loveliness was ever present to my imagination, prompting me to many an honourable action and restraining me from every thing which could bring discredit on my affection; indeed I may truly say, that to her I was indebted for the respect and esteem I enjoyed from every one on board. Often did I rejoice in my heart at the prospect of once more embracing those who were so dear to me, and as often did the sickening sensations of distracting doubt agitate my breast.

One lovely evening, the sky was beautifully serene; the ocean like a clear mirror reflected the golden rays of the setting sun, and the light breeze just lulled the spreading sails to sleep, propelling the ship almost imperceptibly along at the rate of three knots[7] an hour. It was one of those evenings that baffle the painter’s art, and only the poet can portray; The first watch was drawing to a close; it had struck seven bells;[8] the seamen on the look-out had proclaimed “all’s well,” and every thing was again hushed to solemn stillness. I was standing on the gangway full of pensive musings, watching a bright star just kindling on the verge of the horizon. It beamed like a ray of hope, irradiating the gloom which hung heavy upon my heart; suddenly it expanded like the glowing meteor, and the ocean was illuminated with a red and gory tinge. I was struck with astonishment, but at the same moment an exclamation resounded fore-and-aft, “A ship on fire! a ship on fire!” and the horrid conviction was, alas! too evident. In a few minutes the flames were distinctly visible, and the ship was pronounced to be about five miles distant. Never before did I witness such alacrity among our crew, as in that hour of peril. The captain and every officer and man were on deck immediately; and as it was impossible for the frigate to approach in sufficient time to rescue the sufferers, before ten minutes had elapsed from the period of first noticing the fire, every boat was in motion towards the scene of danger.

It fell to my lot to command the captain’s gig, a swift-pulling boat with seven men, who bent to their oars with all the might of brave and generous spirits. As we drew near, the destructive element raged with increasing fury, and the shrieks of the wretched creatures came mingling with the crackling of the flames and the crash of falling masts. The frigate had fired guns and hoisted lights to show them succour was at hand, and the boats’ crews occasionally cheered to announce that they were approaching to their rescue. The shouts were returned from the burning ship, but so wild, so fearful, that they sounded like the yell of expiring agony that still clung to hope and life. I would have dashed instantly alongside, but the old coxswain respectfully warned me of the danger of such a measure.

We were now within a short distance of the vessel, and oh, what a sight of horror was presented! The ports were all open, and the flames pouring from them as from so many mouths, seemed eager for their prey. Numbers of poor creatures were swimming towards us, whilst others held pieces of shattered spars with a strong convulsive grasp. The fore part of the ship was nearly consumed, and the upper part abaft was rapidly falling in. Those who could swim we left for other boats to take up, and pulling under the stern, we lay unobserved by the gun-room ports, while the fiery fragments came tumbling thick about us. Trusting to my skill in swimming should it be deemed requisite to jump overboard, I instantly entered the port-hole, and the ship having fallen off before the wind, what little air there was, drove the greatest part of the smoke forward; yet there was an almost insupportable heat, and the suffocating vapours bade defiance to my efforts to penetrate further. A feeling I could not account for, an indescribable feeling urged me on, and I reached the gun-room ladder, at the bottom of which lay a human being whose sufferings apparently were over. I passed my hand quickly to the heart to feel if any palpitation yet remained, and discovered that the individual was a female. She was yet living, and in a few minutes was safely in the boat. Again I returned with three of my crew, and soon had the satisfaction of rescuing eight poor wretches, who lay in a state of insensibility, and must soon have perished. Stimulated by success, we penetrated to the burning deck above, and never shall I forget the horror of the spectacle. Here all was brilliancy and light; and the devouring element, rolling its huge volumes over many a devoted victim, roared in its fierceness, as if to stifle the thrilling scream of the last death-pang. Several half-burnt and mangled bodies could be distinguished in the flames, and many others lay in a senseless state, unaware of the awful doom awaiting them.

Near the transom abaft, sat a woman with an infant in her arms, seeming unconscious of any object moving near her. She saw not our approach, but her eyeballs wildly glared upon the red hue of the burning fabric. I spoke to her, shook her arm, but her eyes still continued fixed: alas! the film of death was on them. She heeded me not, but clasped her infant closer to her bosom, gave one wild, one dismal shriek, and mortal agony was over. The moments became exceedingly precious, and the smiling infant--for it smiled amid the horrors of the appalling scene--was secured, and several poor wretches were dragged to the gun-room scuttle, where they were thrown down, risking their limbs to save their lives, and the boat was completely filled, almost to sinking. Yet numbers were still left behind, and roused from their stupor by the increasing heat, came rushing to the port, and plunging headlong into the sea. It was but changing their mode of death, for the watery element, equally fatal with that from which they strove to escape, ingulfed them in its dark abyss, at once their destruction and their grave.

I was compelled to put some of my rescued party in the launch, and then pulled briskly for the frigate. The female I had thus saved was still insensible; but yet, as she lay extended in the stern sheets of the boat, with her head resting on my knees, I could feel the tremulous palpitation of her heart, and hope whispered that she might yet recover. She appeared to be young, but her dark hair hung in thick flakes down her face, so as to conceal her features. The worthy coxswain had wrapped the infant in his jacket, and it was now sweetly sleeping in the box by his side. Several of the sufferers, restored to fresh air, speedily recovered; but it was only to lament some one whom they supposed had perished.

In the bows of the boat an elderly man raised his white head, and with incoherent language inquired where he was. The bowman soothed him, and tried to explain his situation; “But my son! my daughter!” he exclaimed, “where are they?” then turning to the burning ship continued, “wretched--wretched man, they are lost--lost for ever--and I yet live!” He struggled to throw himself into the sea, but overcome with weakness, fell backward.

At this moment, another voice faintly uttered “My father! my father!” A cry of ecstacy burst from the old man’s lips:--it was his son. The youth lay near him, and the exclamation drew my attention towards him; he started up like one awaking from a frightful dream, and glared wildly around. But, oh God! in what language can I portray the various feelings which alternately took possession of my soul, when fixing his look on me, I saw the countenance of Sir Edward’s son. A sick shuddering came upon me. The old man had called upon his daughter, and in an instant the inanimate body of the young female was raised in my arms. I parted the dark tresses that obscured her face, and as the red glare of light shone upon it, recognised my Agnes. Yes, it was she; my arm had encircled her neck--my hand had been pressed upon her heart; but then I knew her not, and now to find her thus! Sobs of anguish and tumultuous bursts of joy followed in rapid succession. “You have saved her, sir,” said the coxswain, and a glow of pleasure filled my heart.

Sir Edward and his son had relapsed into stupor, and shortly afterwards we reached the frigate. I sprang upon the deck to inform the captain who it was that I had brought, and then returned to the boat to see my only--my richest treasure safely conducted up the side. In my arms I carried the dear girl to the captain’s cabin, and stole one kiss from those lips which I had pressed with such delight in early infancy--clasped her to my heart, and then hastened back to my duty.

Once more I reached the ship; but all approach was now impossible, and we could only pick up those who were enabled to swim, and occasionally by great hazard run so close as to receive some poor sufferer from the wreck. Yet there were many who still remained, and dreading to trust themselves to the sea, hung tremblingly between two deaths. My boat was once more filled, as were also all the rest, and we made for the frigate, which had arrived within a short distance.

Suddenly an awful explosion shook the whole atmosphere; the glare of light was for a moment increased, and the next succeeding minute a shower of blazing timbers fell in every direction around, and the pale moon alone shed her silvery effulgence on the transparent wave. No shouts--no shrieks were to be heard; the bitterness of death was passed, and all was as tranquil as the grave. Happily the burning ruin had struck none of the boats, and we soon afterwards put the sufferers on board the frigate. The boats then again repaired to the place, but except the shattered remnants of the wreck, no trace was left. The swelling billow rolled smoothly on, and that gallant ship with many a stout heart, was buried beneath its deceitful surface. Still we passed across and across in every direction, and long after the sun had kindled up the day, our search was continued; but nothing met our view, except mutilated fragments of human bodies and pieces of blackened timber. All hands repaired on board, the boats were hoisted in, and the frigate pursued her course for England.

On getting aboard, I hastened to the surgeon and inquired the state of Agnes and her friends. They had all recovered, and were composed in slumber. Etiquette forbade my entering the precincts of the cabin uninvited, yet I lingered near the door, and the steward gave me all the information I could obtain. Duty compelled me to attend in another part of the ship, after which I hastened to my berth and equipped myself in uniform for the forenoon watch. The master’s mate had been promoted to a lieutenancy, and I had been appointed to fill the vacant station, and never was I more studious in adjusting my dress, whilst a feeling of pride animated me under the reflection that I had endeavoured to earn my present distinction solely by my own efforts.

We had saved ninety-seven people, including passengers, out of one hundred and forty-three. The ship was an East Indiaman on her passage out, and Sir Edward was going to Bombay to fill a high official station. No one could tell how the fire had originated, but it was supposed to have been occasioned by the communication of some combustible matter with the fodder stowed in the orlop deck for the live stock. But so amazingly rapid had been its spread, that the boats were rendered useless before they could be got out, excepting one small jolly-boat, which sunk soon after it was lowered down.

Notwithstanding my attention to dress, it would be impossible to describe the tumult of agitation under which I laboured. Parents--home--Agnes, all rushed upon my heart, and the cruel blow which had occasioned my departure mingled with the rest. When relieving the watch I found my friend, the lieutenant upon deck, and to him I briefly related my situation. He had heard parts of my story before; but when I told him all, he advised me to suffer things to take their course, to manifest a becoming spirit, and by no means to show resentment. He said the captain had spoken very highly of me for my exertions and humanity, and was greatly pleased with my conduct. Praise is sweet from those who despise unmeaning flattery, and this came like a reviving cordial to my drooping mind.

Soon after ten o’clock, Sir Edward awoke considerably refreshed, and with his children returned thanks to Heaven for safety. They afterwards came on deck, and as the young man ascended, a feeling of indignation filled my breast; but it was momentary, and I walked forward to conceal my agitation, which became almost insupportable, particularly when I heard the captain’s voice hailing me, and guessed the purport of his call. Mustering all my resolution, I approached them as they stood abaft, but who can paint the different looks, of father, son, and daughter, as the captain presented me to their notice. The recognition was immediate, and each seemed to have a conflict of passions in the breast. Sir Edward took my hand with coldness, and then pressed it ardently; his son walked away, giving me a glance that betrayed humbled pride, whilst the sweet countenance of Agnes spoke volumes to my soul, and told me I had been treasured in her memory with fond affection. I would have inquired for my parents; but while the question hung upon my lips, a well-remembered face displayed itself,--it was the old butler of the family. As soon as it was possible, I took the old man aside, and from him learned every particular. My father had been dismissed from his situation, and had struggled with many difficulties; but a relation of my mother had left them a handsome competency at his death, and their only unhappiness proceeded from ignorance of my fate. They had mourned my loss as for one who would never return. I briefly ran over my adventures to him, and only on one subject was I silent; but this was unnecessary, as he told me of many circumstances which gladdened my heart.

Being officer of the forenoon watch, it was my turn to dine with the captain. This I would gladly have declined, but it was impossible without a breach of regulations; and at the appointed hour, after putting on my full-dress, I entered the cabin, and at the captain’s request, took my seat by the side of Agnes. Sir Edward looked displeased and bit his lips; his son arose from the table and muttered something about “plebeian rank;” whilst the sweet girl was almost fainting with alarm. The captain had noticed a strange peculiarity at the first interview, and, as I understood afterwards, had answered many inquiries respecting me. My friend, the lieutenant, had also given him some hints, but he was not the man to see honest humility abused; for he himself had risen from an obscure origin, and through his own merits had climbed every gradation to his present command. Beloved by his crew and universally respected in the service, he despised the proud aspirings of those who considered high birth as the greatest recommendation. Without discomposing himself, he directed the steward to remove the young gentleman’s plate to another table. Sir Edward keenly felt this, and rising up, demanded whether his present condition had so far reduced him in the captain’s estimation, as to render him the object of insult?

“Sir Edward,” replied the captain calmly, “when you have explained your meaning, I shall be better able to answer you; at present I am involved in mystery.”

“Look there!” said the baronet, pointing towards me, “the son of my gardener! Look there!” continued he, turning to his son, “the heir to the richest baronetage in Great Britain; and that”--pointing to Agnes, “to my shame be it spoken, is my daughter.”

I offered to withdraw. “Sit still, Mr. ----,” said the captain, rising at the same time himself with all the dignity that marked his character. “Sir Edward,” he coolly answered, “it is not in my nature to taunt any one with obligations. I view mankind as united to me by the strongest ties, and whether it was a beggar or a duke, should consider I had only done my duty in snatching a fellow-creature from destruction. But where, let me ask, would your baronetage have been, had not this young officer stepped between you and the grave? Where would your ungrateful sort have been, but for his timely aid? And where would this sweet girl, of whom any father ought to be proud,--where, I say, would she have been, but for the youth whom you despise?” He grew warm. “By heaven! Sir Edward, you would have found the sharks no respecters of rank or riches; they revel in the glorious spoils of death without troubling themselves whether their prey is of noble or ignoble birth, and you long, ere now, might have satiated their ravenous appetites.” The baronet shuddered. “As for this young officer, he has been upwards of three years under my command; I have watched him silently and secretly; he is a noble fellow, and shall never want a friend while these old timbers hold together! If he has injured you or your daughter, prove it, and I instantly discard him!”

“He has! he has!” exclaimed both Sir Edward and his son. I felt myself almost inspired with eloquence, and briefly told my tale.

“If (said I) to love Miss Agnes is a crime, it is one that has to me produced the most happy results, and never, never will I resign it. To that love I am indebted for my present situation; has been the pole-star of my heart, but never till this moment did my lips publicly avow it. This then, sir, is the injury I have committed, and it now remains with you to drive me from your patronage, or still to cherish the obscure individual whom you have been pleased to raise.”

“Drive you away, my boy!” replied the captain; “no, no! I should indeed consider you unworthy of my notice, could you associate with so lovely a lass and remain insensible to her amiable disposition and beauty. But what says the fair lady? Does she too despise the poor but honest sailor?”

A faint smile passed across her pallid cheek as she distinctly uttered--“He has preserved my father’s life.” At that moment, thrown off my guard, I caught her hand and pressed it to my lips. Both her father and her brother saw it, but they neither spoke nor moved.