Newton Forster; Or, The Merchant Service

by Frederick Marryat

  VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER THREE.

  Creation smiles around; on every spray The warbling birds exalt their evening lay: Blithe skipping o'er you hill, the fleecy train Join the deep chorus of the lowing plain: The glassy ocean hush'd forgets to roar, But trembling murmurs on the sandy shore. FALCONER.

  Forster was soon fast asleep after his night of exertion: his dreamswere confused and wild; but I seldom trouble people about dreams, whichare as nought. When Reason descends from her throne, and seeks atransitory respite from her labour, Fancy usurps the vacant seat, and inpretended majesty, would fain exert her sister's various powers. Theseshe enacts to the best of her ability, and with about the same successas attends a monkey when he attempts the several operations connectedwith the mystery of shaving:--and thus ends a very short and conclusivedissertation upon dreams.

  But, to use a nautical phrase, we must "heave to" in our narrativeawhile, as it is necessary that we should enter a little more into theprevious history of Edward Forster; which we can now do withoutinterruption, as the parties we have introduced to the reader are allasleep.

  The father of Edward Forster was a clergyman, who, notwithstanding hecould reckon up some twenty or thirty first, second, and third cousinswith high-sounding titles, officiated as curate in a district not farfrom that part of the country where Forster at present was located. Hewas one of the bees of the church, who are constantly toiling, while thedrones are eating up the honey. He preached three sermons, and readthree services, at three different stations every Sunday throughout theyear; while he christened, married, and buried a population extendingover some thousands of square acres, for the scanty stipend of onehundred per annum. Soon after he was in possession of his curacy hemarried a young woman, who brought him beauty and modesty as her dower,and subsequently pledges of mutual love _ad lib_. But He that giveth,taketh away; and out of nearly a score of these interesting butexpensive presents to her husband, only three, all of the masculinegender, arrived at years of maturity. John (or Jock, as he usually wascalled), who was the eldest, was despatched to London, where he studiedthe law under a relation; who, perceiving that Mrs Forster's annualpresentation _of_ the living was not followed up by any presentation_to_ the living, kindly took charge of, and received him into his ownhouse.

  Jock was a hard-headed fellow, studied with great diligence, andretained what he read, although he did not read fast; but that which helost in speed he made up by perseverance, and had now, entirely by hisown exertions, risen to considerable eminence in his profession; but hehad been severed from his family in early days, and had never been ableto return to them. He heard, indeed, of the birth of sundry brothersand sisters; of their deaths; and lastly, of the demise of his parents,the only communication which affected him; for he loved his father andmother, and was anticipating the period when he might possess the meansof rendering them more comfortable. But all this had long passed away.He was now a bachelor past fifty, bearish and uncouth in his appearance,and ungracious in his deportment. Secluded in his chambers, poring overthe dry technicalities of his profession, he had divided the moral worldinto two parts--honest and dishonest, lawful and unlawful. All otherfeelings and affections, if he had them, were buried, and had never beenraised to the surface. At the time we speak of he continued hislaborious, yet lucrative, profession, toiling in his harness like ahorse in a mill, heaping up riches, knowing not who should gather them;not from avarice, but from long habit, which rendered his profession notonly his pleasure, but essential to his very existence. Edward Forsterhad not seen him for nearly twenty years; the last time was when hepassed through London upon his retirement from the service. Indeed, asthey never corresponded (for there was nothing common between them), itis a matter of doubt whether Jock was exactly aware which of hisbrothers remained alive; and had it been a subject of interest, hewould, in all probability, have referred to the former letters of hisfather and mother, as legal documents, to ascertain who was remaining ofhis kin.

  The next surviving son was _yclept_ (there's something very _consonant_in that word) Nicholas. The Reverend Mr Forster, who had noinheritance to bequeath to his family except a _good name_, whichalthough better than _riches_, will not always procure for a man onepenny loaf, naturally watched for any peculiar symptoms of genius in hischildren which might designate one of the various paths to wealth andfame, by which it would be most easy for the individual to ascend. Nowit did occur that when Nicholas was yet in womanish attire, he showed agreat partiality to a burning-glass, with which he contrived to do muchmischief. He would burn the dog's nose as he slept in the sun beforethe door. His mother's gown showed proofs of his genius by sundrylittle round holes, which were considerably increased each time that itreturned from the wash. Nay, heretical and damnable as is the fact, hisfather's surplice was as a moth-eaten garment from the repeated andinsidious attacks of this young philosopher. The burning-glass decidedhis fate. He was bound apprentice to an optical and mathematicalinstrument maker; from which situation he was, if possible, to emergeinto the highest grade of the profession; but, somehow or another, awant of ambition or of talent did not permit him to ascend the scale,and he now kept a shop in the small seaport town of Overton, where herepaired damaged articles of science--a watch one day, a quadrant or acompass another; but his chief employment and his chief forte lay intelescopes; and accordingly, a large board, with "Nicholas Forster,Optician," surmounted the small shop window, at which he was invariablyto be seen at his employment. He was an eccentric person, one of thosewho had narrowly escaped being clever; but there was an obliquity in hismind which would not admit of lucid order and arrangement. In the smalltown where he resided, he continued to pick up a decent sustenance; forhe had no competitor, and was looked upon as a man of considerableability. He was the only one of three brothers who had ventured uponwedlock. But of this part of our history we shall at present say nomore than that he had an only child, and had married his wife, to usehis own expression, because she _suited his focus_.

  Edward Forster the youngest, whom we have already introduced to thereader, showed strong nautical propensities; he swam nut-shells in apuddle, and sent pieces of lath with paper sails floating down the brookwhich gurgled by the parsonage. This was circumstantial evidence: hewas convicted, and ordered off to sea, to return a Nelson. For hisconduct during the time he served her, Edward Forster certainly deservedwell of his country, and had he been enabled to continue in hisprofession, would in all probability have risen by his merit to itshighest grades; but having served his time as midshipman, he received adesperate wound in "cutting out," and shortly after obtained hispromotion to the rank of lieutenant for his gallant conduct. His woundwas of that severe description that he was obliged to quit the service,and, for a time, retire upon his half pay. For many years, he lookedforward to the period when he could resume his career:--but in vain; thewound broke out again and again; fresh splinters of the bone continuallyworked out, and he was doomed to constant disappointment. At last ithealed; but years of suffering had quenched the ardour of youth, andwhen he did apply for employment, his services had been forgotten. Hereceived a cool negative, almost consonant to his wishes: and returned,without feeling mortified, to the cottage we have described, where helived a secluded yet not an unhappy life. His wants were few, and hishalf pay more than adequate to supply them. A happy contemplativeindolence, arising from a well cultivated mind, feeding rather upon itsprevious acquirements, than adding to its store--an equanimity ofdisposition, and a habit of rigid self-command--were the characteristicsof Edward Forster; whom I shall now awaken, that we may proceed with ournarrative.

  "Well, I do declare, Mr Forster, you have had a famous nap," cried MrsBeazeley, in a tone of voice so loud as to put an immediate end to hisslumber, as she entered his room with some hot water to assist him inthat masculine operation, the diurnal painful return of which has beenconsidered to be more than tantamount in suffering to the occasional`pleasing punishment which women bear,' Altho
ugh this cannot be proveduntil ladies are endowed with beards, (which Heaven forfend!) or somemodern Tiresias shall appear to decide the point, the assertion appearsto be borne out, if we reason by analogy from human life; where we findthat it is not the heavy blow of sudden misfortune tripping the ladderof our ambition and laying us prostrate, which constitutes life'sintermittent "fitful fever;" but the thousand petty vexations of hourlyoccurrence.--We return to Mrs Beazeley, who continued--"Why, it's nineo'clock, Mr Forster, and a nice fresh morning it is too, after lastnight's tempest. And pray what did you hear and see, sir?" continuedthe old woman, opening the shutters, and admitting a blaze of sunshine,as if determined that at all events he should now both _hear_ and _see_.

  "I'll tell you all, Mrs Beazeley, when I am dressed. Let me have mybreakfast as soon as you can, for I must be off again to the cove. Idid not intend to have slept so late."

  "Why, what's in the wind now, Mr Forster?" said the old lady, borrowingone of his nautical phrases.

  "If you wish to know, Mrs Beazeley, the sooner you allow me to get outof bed, the sooner I shall be able to give you the information yourequire."

  "But what made you stay out so late, Mr Forster?" continued thehousekeeper, who seemed determined, if possible, to have a littleinformation _en attendant_, to stay her appetite until her curiositycould obtain a more substantial repast.

  "I am sorry to say, there was a vessel wrecked."

  "O dear! O dear! Any lives lost?"

  "All, I am afraid, except one, and even that is doubtful."

  "O Lord! O Lord! Do, pray, Mr Forster, tell me all about it."

  "As soon as I am dressed, Mrs Beazeley," replied Mr Forster, making amovement indicative that he was about to "_turn out," whether or no_,and which occasioned Mrs Beazeley to make a hasty retreat.

  In a few minutes Forster made his appearance in the parlour, where hefound both the kettle and the housekeeper boiling with impatience. Hecommenced eating and narrating until the respective appetites of MrsBeazeley and himself were equally appeased, and then set off for theabode of Robertson, to ascertain the fate of the infant.

  How different was the scene from that of the night before! The sea wasstill in commotion, and as the bright sun shone upon its agitatedsurface, gilding the summits of the waves, although there was majestyand beauty in the appearance, there was nought to excite terror. Theatmosphere, purified by the warfare of the elements, was fresh andbracing. The short verdure which covered the promontory and hillsadjacent, was of a more brilliant green, and seemed as if to bask in thesun after the cleansing it had received from the heavy rain; while thesheep (for the coast was one extended sheep-walk) studded the sides ofthe hills, their white fleeces in strong, yet beautiful contrast, withthe deep verdure of nature. The smooth water of the cove, in oppositionto the vexed billows of the unsheltered ocean; the murmuring of thelight waves, running in long and gently curved lines to their reposeupon the yellow sand; their surface occasionally rippled by the eddyingbreeze as it swept along; his own little skiff safe at her moorings,undulating with the swell; the sea-gulls, who but a few hours ago werescreaming with dismay as they buffeted against the fury of the gale, nowskimming on the waves, or balanced on the wing near to theirinaccessible retreats; the carolling of the smaller birds on every sideof him, produced a lightness of heart and quickened pulse, to whichEdward Forster had latterly been a stranger.

  He soon arrived at the cottage, where the sound of his footsteps broughtout the fisherman and his wife, the latter bearing in her arms thelittle object of his solicitude.

  "See, Mr Forster," said Jane, holding out the infant, "it's quite welland hearty, and does nothing but smile. What a lovely babe it is!"

  Forster looked at the child, who smiled, as if in gratitude; but hisattention was called away by the Newfoundland dog, who fawned upon him,and after having received his caresses, squatted down upon the sand,which he beat with his tail as he looked wistfully in Forster's face.

  Forster took the child from the arms of its new mother. "Thou hast hada narrow escape, poor thing," said he, and his countenance assumed amelancholy cast as the idea floated in his mind. "Who knows how manymore perils may await thee? Who can say whether thou art to be restoredto the arms of thy relatives, or be left an orphan to a sailor's care?Whether it had not been better that the waves should have swallowed theein thy purity, than thou shouldest be exposed to a heartless world ofsorrow and of crime? But He who willed thee to be saved knows best forus who are in darkness;" and Forster kissed its brow, and returned it tothe arms of Jane.

  Having made a few arrangements with Robertson and his wife, in whosecare he resolved at present to leave the child, Forster bent his stepstowards the promontory, that he might ascertain if any part of thevessel remained. Stretching over the summit of the cliff, he perceivedthat several of the lower futtocks and timbers still hung together, andshowed themselves above water. Anxious to obtain some clue to heridentity, he prepared to descend by a winding and hazardous path whichhe had before surmounted. In a quarter of an hour he had gained aposition close to the wreck; but, with the exception of the shatteredremnant which was firmly wedged between the rocks, there was nothing tobe seen; not a fragment of her masts and spars, or sails, not a relic ofwhat was once life remained. The tide, which ran furiously round thepromontory, had swept them all away, or the _undertow_ of the deep waterhad buried every detached particle, to be delivered up again, "far, farat sea." All that Forster could ascertain was, that the vessel wasforeign built, and of large tonnage; but who were its unfortunatetenants, or what the cargo, of which she had been despoiled by thedevouring waves, was not even to be surmised. The linen on the childwas marked J de F; and this was the only clue which remained for itsidentity. For more than an hour did Forster remain fixed as a statueupon the rock, where he had taken his station with arms folded, while hecontemplated the hoarse waves, dashing against the bends, or dividing asthey poured themselves between the timbers of the vessel, and he sunkinto deep and melancholy thought.

  And where is the object exciting more serious reflection than a _Wreck_?

  The pride and ingenuity of man humbled and overcome; the elements of theLord occupying the fabric which had set them at defiance; tossing,tumbling, and dancing, as if in mockery at their success! Thestructure, but a few hours past, as perfect as human intellect coulddevise, towering with its proud canvass over space, and bearing man togreet his fellow-man, over the _surface of death_!--dashing the billowfrom her stem, as if in scorn, while she pursued her trackless way--bearing tidings of peace and security, of war and devastation--tidingsof joy or grief, affecting whole kingdoms and empires, as if they werebut individuals!

  Now, the waters delight in their revenge, and sparkle with joy, as thesun shines upon their victory. That keel, which, with the sharpness ofa scythe, has so often mowed its course through the reluctant wave, isnow buried;--buried deep in the sand, which the angry surge accumulateseach minute, as if determined that it never will be subject to itsweight again.

  How many seasons had rolled away, how many millions had returned to thedust from which they sprung, before the kernels had swelled into theforest giants levelled for that structure;--what labour had beenundergone to complete the task;--how many of the existent race foundemployment and subsistence as they slowly raised that monument of humanskill;--how often had the weary miner laid aside his tool to wipe hissweating brow, before the metals required for the completion had beenbrought from darkness;--what thousands had been employed before it wasprepared and ready for its destined use! Yon copper bolt, twisted witha force not human, and raised above the waters, as if in evidence oftheir dreadful power, may contain a history in itself.

  How many of her own structure must have been employed, bringing from thenorth, the south, the east, and the west: her masts, her spars, her"_hempen tackle_," and her canvass wings; her equipment in all itsvariety; her stores for the support of life; her magazines of _quiescentdeath_. And they who so fearlessly trod her
decks, conscious of theirown powers, and confident in their own skill; they who expanded herthousands of yards of canvass to the pursuing breeze, or reduced them,like magic, at the approaching storm--where are they now? How manysighs have been lavished at their absence! how many hearths would havebeen gladdened by their return! Where are the hopes, the fears, theambition, and the pride; the courage and the enterprise; the love andthe yearnings after their kin; the speculations of the present, and thecalculations of the future, which occupied their minds, or werecherished in their bosoms? All--all _wrecked_!

  Days, weeks, and months rolled away; yet every step that could be takento find out the name of the vessel proved unavailing. Although theconjectures of Forster, that she was one of the many foreign WestIndiamen which had met with a similar fate during that tempestuouswinter, was probably correct; still no clue could be gathered by whichthe parentage of the little girl could be ascertained, The linen wasindeed marked with initials; but this circumstance offered but a faintprospect of discovery. Either her relations, convinced of her loss madeno inquiries, or the name of the vessel in which she had been apassenger was not known to them. The child had been weaned, and removedto the cottage, where it occupied much of the attention of the oldhousekeeper and Forster, who, despairing of its ever being reclaimed,determined to bring it up as his own.

  Mrs Beazeley, the housekeeper, was a good-tempered woman, long passedthe grand climacteric, and strongly attached to Forster, with whom shehad resided many years. But, like all women, whether married or single,who have the responsibility of a household, she would have her own way;and scolded her master with as little ceremony as if she had been unitedto him by matrimonial bonds.

  To this Forster quietly submitted: he had lived long enough to be awarethat people are not the happiest who are not under control, and wasphilosopher sufficient to submit to the penal code of matrimony withouttasting its enjoyments, The arrival of the infant made him more thanever feel as if he were a married man; for he had all the delights ofthe nursery in addition to his previous discipline. But, although boundby no ties, he found himself happier. He soon played with the infant,and submitted to his housekeeper with all the docility of a well-trainedmarried man.

  The Newfoundland dog, who, although (like some of his betters) he didnot change his name _for_ a fortune, did, in all probability, change it_with_ his fortune, soon answered to the deserved epithet of Faithful,and slept at the foot of the crib of his little mistress, who also wasto be rechristened. "She is a treasure, which has been thrown up by theocean," said Forster, kissing the lovely infant. "Let her name be_Amber_."

  But we must leave her to bud forth in her innocence and her purity,while we direct the attention of the reader to other scenes, which arecontemporary with those we have described.