CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
A STEAM TRIAL, AND A GUN-BURST.
On their way up the harbour, the Captain pointed out the long line ofold hulks moored on either side of the stream that had once, when intheir prime, been esteemed the pride of the Navy.
With towering masts and gallant rig they had flown the flag that hasborne the battle and the breeze for many a long year.
But, within the last decade, their glory has departed, alas, like theglories of "Rotten Row," as this anchorage of broken-down ships iscalled; many of the old historic vessels having been sold out of theservice and their places know them no more!
"Ah, these are something like `Roman remains'!" exclaimed CaptainDresser, when their wherry ultimately glided up to the ruins ofPorchester Castle, the base of whose swelling walls was laved by therippling tide. "That `villa' at Brading was a regular take-in, and Ishall always regret that half-crown in hard cash, out of which I wasswindled!"
"Sure, I don't think you'll ever forget that day," cried Mrs Gilmour,laughing as she explained the matter more lucidly to her brother andsister-in-law. "Just as Queen Mary said that Calais would be foundengraved on her heart after she was dead, the Roman villa at Bradingwill be found graven on yours, Captain, sure!"
"I don't mind," said he resignedly, "I like something for my money; and,here, there is something to see and nothing to pay for it either!"
The boatmen rowed the boat close inshore in order to allow them toinspect the place nearer, as they did not have sufficient time to landand examine it properly. Mrs Gilmour, while they laid off making thusa cursory inspection of the ruins, became the castle's historian--telling how the Romans originally built the fortress on their invasionof England over eighteen hundred years ago, styling it "Portus Magnus,"or "the great port," it being situated on a tongue of land commandingthe approaches to their encampments in the interior of the country--theharbour being then more open to the sea than it now is.
"Aye," corroborated the Captain. "It has silted up considerably, evenin my time, in spite of continual dredging."
"The Saxons afterwards called the place Portceaster, whence its presentname `Porchester,'" continued the narrator; "and, subsequently, thestronghold has played an important part in history, from the days ofCanute up to the reign of Queen Elizabeth."
"That's something at any rate!" interposed the Captain. "More than youcan say for the Brading villa!"
"You mustn't interrupt, sure," said Mrs Gilmour, tapping him with herparasol as her brother laughed, exchanging winks with the old sailor."After the time of good Queen Bess, however, the castle is not memorablefor much in its history till we come to the early part of the presentcentury; when it was used as a depot for the prisoners taken in theFrench war, some eight or ten thousand being incarcerated within itswalls at one time!"
"What a lot!" cried Bob. "It must have cost a heap of money to keepthem in food, auntie?"
"It did, `a lot,' my dear," replied his aunt, adopting his favouriteword. "Several men with names distinguished in the Revolution wereconfined here, among them being the Irish general Tate, who led thatridiculous invasion of this country planned by Buonaparte, which wasrouted by a body of Welsh women at Fishguard."
"Hurrah for the sex!" interrupted the Captain again, Mr Strong joiningin his cheer, while the boatmen grinned. "More power to theirpetticoats!"
Mrs Gilmour only smiled at this, not venturing to explain that theinvaders mistook the red-cloaked, tall-hatted women of the Principality,who were ranged along the crests of their native mountains, for Britishregiments on the march to annihilate them; and so, capitulated to avoidcapture!
"One of the most comical characters imprisoned in the castle," she wenton, "was a seaman named Francois Dufresne, who was a regular JackSheppard in the way of breaking out of confinement."
"Oh!" exclaimed Bob, pricking up his ears at the mention of the notedcelebrity of the Newgate Calendar. "That's jolly! What did he do,auntie?"
"Why, he would, for a mere frolic or for a trifling wager, seals thewalls of the castle under the very eye; of the sentries, making his wayinto the woodlands on the north of Portsdown Hill, where he would rambleat large, stealing all the eggs and fowls he could lay his hands on. Hehad, as he explained, a great weakness for poultry."
"By Jove, I can quite excuse him," said the Captain in his funny way."I'm partial to a chicken, myself!"
"So am I, too," remarked Mrs Strong. "It was only what might be called`an amiable weakness' on his part, considering that probably the poorprisoners were not too well fed."
"They were not, my dear Edith," replied her sister-in-law, "if allaccounts be true; for the French Government complained of their beinghalf-starved! However, be that as it may, Dufresne used to plunder awayamongst the cottagers, until their anger at losing their stock led tohis recapture and remission to durance vile. Once he actually made hisway to London; when, calling at the house of the `French Commissioner'there, who was the agent for all the prisoners of the war, he procured adecent dress and a passport, with which he presented himself again atPorchester and made a triumphant return to his prison!"
"The governor must have been surprised," said Bob. "Wasn't he, auntie?"
"He was," assented his aunt. "Very much surprised, my dear."
"Did they punish him for escaping?" asked Nell. "I don't think theyought to have, as he came back."
"No, I don't think they did," replied Mrs Gilmour. "But, my dear, Ithink I've told you enough now of the castle and all belonging to it,and must really stop, for it's time for us to be going back."
"Indeed we must, ma'am," said the Captain, "that is, if we're going overthe Victualling Yard."
"What, more sight-seeing!" exclaimed Mrs Strong in a voice of despair."Can't you let us off doing any more to-day?"
"Well, ma'am," pleaded the Captain apologetically, "only just one placemore and you will then have `killed all the lions'; that is, all savethe Dockyard, which Master Bob will have to tell you about."
"Do let us go, mamma! I do so want to see them making the biscuits.They do it all by machinery, just fancy!" said Nellie coaxingly. "Do,let us go, please, won't you?"
"Do, please," also pleaded Bob, "it will be so very jolly!"
"I suppose I must give in," sighed his mother. "Oh, Captain Dresser,Captain Dresser, you have a good deal to answer for!"
The old sailor only chuckled in response; and, giving the necessaryorders to the boatmen, the wherry, which had come down rapidly fromPorchester, the tide having turned and being now on the ebb, was pulledin to the Gosport shore, its passengers landing at Clarence Yard, thegreat food depot of the Navy.
Here they saw all that was to be seen, gazing with wonder at the vaststores of things eatable accumulated for the service of the fleet--Boband Miss Nell being particularly interested in the bread-factory andbakery, where the attendant who showed them over the place completedtheir satisfaction by filling their respective pockets with the curioushexagonal-shaped biscuits there made, "thus provisioning them," as theCaptain said, "for the remainder of their stay."
They crossed back from Gosport to Portsmouth by the floating bridge,which, of course, Bob wanted to know all about, the Captain explainingto him how it was fixed on two chains passing through the vessel andmoored on either shore, so as to prevent the "bridge" from being swayedby the action of the tide, which runs very strongly in and out of theharbour at the point of its passage.
"But how does the bridge move?" asked the inquiring Bob, full ofquestions as usual. "I can't see how it can, if it be chained up likeRover!"
"There is a steam-engine in the centre of the vessel, as you can see foryourself, there," replied the Captain, pointing to the funnels that boreout his statement. "This engine works a pair of vertical wheels insidethat casing between the two divisions of the boat; and these wheels,which are each some eight feet in diameter and cogged, wind in thechains at one end, paying them out at the other."
"I see," said Bob; and the floating bridg
e having by this time reachedits terminus at the Portsmouth side of the water, they all steppedashore and made their way home, Mrs Strong declaring that she had had"enough of going about, for one day at least!"
In spite of her exertions, however, she was none the worse for themafter dinner; being able, indeed, to accompany the others down to thebeach, Rover now forming one of the party, and magnanimously forgivinghis young master for leaving him behind all day in the house while hewent gallivanting about sight-seeing, albeit Dick's company and Sarah'skindness in the way of tit-bits somewhat made amends to the poor dog forthe neglect of the truant Bob.
"By the way," said the Captain to the latter, on taking his leave in theevening after escorting them back to "the Moorings," "you mustn't forgetthe trial of the _Archimedes_ to-morrow, my boy. Captain Sponson toldme the other day at the Club that she'd go out of harbour at nineo'clock sharp in the morning!"
"Oh, I'll remember," replied Bob. "Where will she start from, Captain?"
"Why, from Coaling Point, at the further end of the Dockyard; so we'llhave to be under weigh half-an-hour earlier," cried the old sailor fromthe doorstep. "You had better call at my place, as it is on the way.Mind you're not later than 8:30 sharp, or she'll be off without you!"
"I'll be there in time, never fear," was Bob's response as the Captainbade him "Good-night!" and stumped off homeward. "I'll be in time!"
Poor Rover!
He was doomed to another day of desertion; for, much to his surprise,his young master, instead of taking him down to the sea as usual in themorning, started off alone, and without his towels, too, which puzzledRover more than anything else.
Dogs have their feelings, similarly to other people; and so, his browneyes filled with tears as he watched Bob rushing out of the house, in aterrible hurry lest he might keep the Captain waiting, or even, indeed,be too late altogether--with never a word for him save a peremptory,"Lie down, Rover; I can't take you with me; lie down, sir!"
It was really too bad of Bob!
In consequence of this unhandsome treatment, it may be likewise added,Rover's tail, which he generally carried in a jaunty fashion, with thetrifle of a twist to one side, as became a dog of his degree and onemoving in the best canine society, now drooped down between his legs--ofa verity it almost touched the ground!
This made the deserted animal look such a picture of misery that, onNell's drawing her aunt's attention to him, the good lady of the housenot only spoke sympathising words unto him, to which the sad dog repliedby ever so feeble a wag of his drooping tail; but Mrs Gilmour also,sanctioned, nay, even directed, his being entertained with a basin ofhot bread-and-milk served up on the best dining-room carpet, an eventunparalleled in the annals of "the Moorings!"
Bob meanwhile, with never a thought of Rover, was proceeding across theDockyard with the Captain, who hobbled painfully over the knobblypaving-stones with which that national institution is ornamented,anathematising at every step he took the rulers of the "Queen's Navee,"who put him thus to unnecessary pain.
"I can't think how, in a Christian land, people's poor feet should be somercilessly disregarded!" he exclaimed, on giving his favourite corn anextra pinch between two projecting boulders--"I'd like to make `myLords' of the Admiralty do the goose-step regularly here for four hoursa day; and then, perhaps, there'd be a chance of a poor creature beingenabled to walk about the place in comfort!"
Notwithstanding the instruments of torture in the shape of paving-stonesof which the Captain complained, and justly, he and Bob just managed toreach the _Archimedes_ before she cast-off from the jetty alongside ofwhich she had been coaling, the two only having time to jump on board asthe gangway connecting her with the shore was withdrawn. Another momentand they would have been too late; for "time and tide," and ships goingout on trial, wait for no man, or boy either.
However, there they were, "better late than never," Bob thought, and hethought further, too, as he gazed round the deck of the ironclad, whichwas somewhat begrimed with coal-dust, and about the ugliest and mostmis-shapen monster imaginable, "Can I really be on board a ship?"
He was, though; and, presently, the sound of the escape steam, that hadpreviously been roaring up through the rattling funnels, ceased; whilethe fan-blades of the screw-propeller began to revolve, surging up thewater of the open dock in which the vessel lay into a mass of foam, andcreating, so to speak, a sort of "tempest in a teapot."
Then, a couple of attendant tugs sent their tow-ropes aboard, so as tocheck and guide the unwieldy leviathan in her progress through thedeeper channels of the harbour which ships of heavy draught have to taketo get out to sea; and "going easy," little by little, with anoccasional stop, as some impertinent craft or other got into thefairway, they finally reached Spithead.
"What is that funny red vessel coming down to us for?" inquired Bob,pointing out a dandy-rigged yawl that just then rounded-up under thestern of the _Archimedes_, laying-to a little way off. "She's comingalongside, I think."
"That's the powder-hoy," replied the Captain. "She's brought theammunition for our big guns here."
"And why is she painted red?" asked Bob again--"eh?"
"Just for the same reason that danger-signals on railways and warningflags are always red," said the other. "I suppose because the colour ismore glaring and likely to be taken notice of; and no doubt, too, that'swhy our soldiers are clothed in scarlet so that they can be all the morereadily potted by the enemy?"
"You are pretty right there, Captain Dresser!" said, laughingly, a youngnaval officer standing near, who kindly took all further trouble off theCaptain's hands in the way of answering Bob's questions and showing himround the ship, the machinery of which especially charmed him, being somuch more imposing and complicated than that of the poor _BembridgeBelle_, which had interested him only yesterday, so to speak, though nowwashed to pieces by the relentless sea!
The movements of the eccentric aroused Bob's chief wonder, the twopiston-rods connected with it and guiding the motion appearing in theirworking like the crooked limbs of a bandy-legged giant "jumping up anddown," as he expressed it, "in a hoppety-kickety dance."
Bob was called up from the engine-room by an extraordinary sound thatproceeded apparently from the deck above.
This, as he ascended, grew louder and louder; until it became to himreally awesome.
"What is that?" he asked the young lieutenant, who had accompanied himbelow and now followed him up, keeping close to his side. "Has anythinghappened, sir?"
"No, nothing's happened," replied the young officer, who was a bit of awag. "That is our steam siren."
"What is that, sir?" said Bob again--"I don't understand you."
"It's the siren," explained the other, "a thing like the steam-whistle,for signalling to passing ships."
"It makes an awful row," cried Bob. "Don't you think so, sir?"
"It does," said the lieutenant laughing. "A great row!"
"Why do they call it a siren, though?" inquired the insatiable Bob."The `sirens' I've read of in my lessons at school used to be mermaidsthat sang so sweetly and made such beautiful music, as they played ontheir harps or lyres, that they lured poor mariners to destruction!"
"But doesn't our siren make beautiful music?" asked the lieutenant in ajoking way. "It is loud, it is true; but don't you think it sweet?"
"No," answered Bob, most emphatically. "It isn't! It is more like athousand wild bulls all with the toothache and roaring with pain!"
"That's not a bad description," said the other, laughing heartily again."Hullo, though, they are going to fire now! Don't you see they've justrun up a red flag on that spar we have forward as an apology for amast?"
"I see," replied Bob, concentrating his attention on the preparationsbeing made around for testing the machine-guns and larger weapons withwhich the vessel was armed, long cylindrical shot, ribbed with brassbands, being piled by the side of the various batteries, and nicely-madecases of cartridges placed ready for the hoppers of the Nordenfeldts
andGatlings. "How awfully jolly!"
The _Archimedes_, after taking her ammunition on board, had steamed outseaward so as to get a good offing where she might fire her guns withoutthe risk of hitting any passing craft; and, by the time Bob had come ondeck again from inspecting the machinery, she was well beyond the Nablight and far out into the waters of the Channel.
On the order being presently given to fire, the machine-guns wentpopping away, to test how many shots they can fire off in a minute--thereport of some of them sounding like an asthmatic old gentleman with avery bad cough.
"What a funny noise!" cried Bob--"Rover barks just the same when he'sasleep and dreaming!"
"Indeed!" said the young lieutenant, more intent, however, on watching aparty of blue-jackets getting ready a big gun for firing in the bowsthan paying much attention to Bob. "Look out there, youngster!"
"What are they going to do, eh?" asked Bob--"all those sailors there!"
"Why, fire one of our forty-three ton guns; so you'd better look out forsqualls. Have you got any cotton-wool about you?"
"No," answered Bob. "What for?"
"To put in your ears, so as to deaden the noise of the report," said thelieutenant. "I've got some, though, so it doesn't matter. Here's a bitto stick in your ears--you'd better take my advice, it'll save yourtympanum!"
Bob did not know what he meant; but he put the cotton-wool in his ears,as desired, on seeing Captain Dresser and some other officers standingnear doing the same, and that the lieutenant was not "taking a rise outof him," as at first he was inclined to think.
The enormous gun, carrying a charge of two hundred and eighty pounds ofpowder, with a shot weighing nearly a quarter of a ton, was now loaded;when the officer directing the operation ordered all persons to moveaway from the vicinity of the weapon, which was about to be fired forthe first time--at least on board the _Archimedes_.
Everybody retreated behind the armoured screen bulkhead that formed asort of "shelter trench" across the deck; for, if an accident shouldhappen in the way of an unexpected explosion, refuge might be had therefrom any flying fragments.
Everybody, as has been said, at once, on the order being given, soughtthis retreat--everybody, that is, but Bob, who, instead of stepping backlike the others, stepped forwards.
At the same moment the signal was given, "Fire!"
A terrific report followed, as if the ship and all its contents wereblown up, there being none of the reverberating sound, like that usuallyheard when heavy guns are fired, as of an express train rushing at speedthrough the air; but a dull, hollow, sullen, sharp roar, succeeded bythe heavy swish of some body, or something, falling into the wateralongside, while a thick smoke hung over the deck like a pall.
"By Jingo!" exclaimed the Captain, "the gun has burst!"
Bob Strong's Holidays Page 18
