Under the Meteor Flag: Log of a Midshipman during the French Revolutionary War

by Harry Collingwood

  CHAPTER EIGHT.

  NEW COMRADES.

  We were busy the whole of that afternoon, and up until nine o'clock inthe evening, the riggers working "overtime," as the admiral was mostanxious for us to go to sea at the earliest possible moment; and MrAnnesley, during the time, was all over the ship, taking me with him,and keenly watching the fitting of every spar and piece of rigging,being fully determined that every part of the work should be well andconscientiously done. I thought him unnecessarily particular over whatthen seemed to me to be trifles; but the time came, when I perceivedthat no part of the rigging or equipment of a man-o'-war could be justlyregarded as of trifling importance.

  The work being pushed forward thus energetically, we made rapidprogress; and on the day fortnight from my joining the ship, she was allataunto, with sails bent, stores of every kind, including powder andshot, on board, fully manned, and, in fact, quite ready for sea.Captain Hood had paid a couple of flying visits to the ship since I hadjoined her, but I had not seen him, as I happened on both occasions tobe away at the dockyard; but on the morning in question he came on boardabout eleven o'clock--his own gig having been sent on shore for him--mustered the hands and read his commission, made us a short speech, andthen went on shore again, previously giving Mr Annesley instructions tohave everything ready for a start by three o'clock that afternoon. Assoon, therefore, as the gig had left the ship's side, blue-peter was runup to the fore-royal-mast-head, the fore-topsail was loosed, andeverybody not actually belonging to the ship was ordered to be out ofher in an hour's time. Then came the men's dinner-time, after whichthere was a general straightening and clearing up, fore and aft, theboats were hoisted in and secured, and finally the messenger was passed,and the anchor hove short-stay-a-peak.

  And now, while all hands are supposed to be waiting with suppressedimpatience for the appearance of the man who, for a time at least, wasto exercise an almost omnipotent influence over the welfare andhappiness of our little community, upon whose skill and courage our verylives were frequently to depend, and to whom we all looked up as ourfuture leader in every deed of enterprise or daring, an opportunityoccurs for me to say a descriptive word or two concerning the principalindividuals with whom I found myself brought into association.

  To commence at the top of the tree and work my way downwards--CaptainHood was, when he took command of the "Juno," a man of about two-and-thirty years of age, of medium height and slight build, with a well-formed figure, and a face which, though by no means handsome, wasstrikingly agreeable to look at, chiefly because of its frank, easy,good-natured expression. He was always scrupulously well-dressed, evenin the vilest of weather; and there was just the faintest perceptibletrace of Bond-street dandyism in his air, conveying at first animpression of slight mental weakness--an impression, however, which wasrapidly dispelled upon a more intimate acquaintance. His manner wasquiet and imperturbable to an astonishing degree; and the more excitingthe circumstances in which he was placed, the more calm and placid didhis demeanour become. But those who flattered themselves that thesecharacteristics indicated a lax disciplinarian found themselvesgrievously mistaken. He was strictness itself, in the matter both ofdiscipline and etiquette; was as brave as a lion, a perfect seaman, withan eye which seemed intuitively to light at once and infallibly upon theslightest fault, and with a will of iron concealed beneath the placidsuavity of his demeanour. His influence, though it could scarcely besaid to be felt, was irresistible; and by its means he, in an incrediblyshort time, wrought the ship's company into one of the smartest, if notabsolutely _the_ smartest, in the service.

  Mr Annesley, the first lieutenant, was in many respects a strongcontrast to his superior. A tall, dark, square-built and muscular-looking man, with handsome features, dark, flashing eyes, and well-proportioned figure, every nerve of which seemed a-quiver withsuperabundant vitality. His gesture, though restrained, was earnest andemphatic; his language in conversation, refined and eloquent; incarrying on the duty of the ship, short, sharp, and incisive. Hismanner to his superiors was quietly respectful, to his equals, somewhatdistant, though without any trace of hauteur, and to his inferiors,gentle and sympathetic, or cold, stern, and repellant, accordingly asthey won his approval or incurred his displeasure. He, like theskipper, was also a prime seaman, with a dauntless courage which vergedvery closely upon recklessness, though it never was allowed to actuallymerge into that undesirable quality.

  The second lieutenant, Mr Michael Flinn, was a rollicking, good-tempered, good-natured young Irishman, careless and impulsive, as thegenerality of his countrymen are, always ready to perform a service fora friend, and still more ready to break the head of an enemy; a passablygood officer afloat, but possessed with a perfect genius for gettinginto scrapes--and out of them again--on shore, with no consciousnesswhatever of his own dignity as one of his Majesty's officers, and everready to join heart and soul in any escapade of which he might happen toget an inkling. He was admirably adapted for such work as a cutting-outexpedition, or a dash ashore to spike the guns of an outlying battery;but, when I first knew him, was utterly unfit for any service requiringdiscretion or tact in its execution.

  The third lieutenant, the Honourable Edward Plantagenet Mortimer, wassimply a useless, soft-headed dandy, who would as soon have dreamed ofthrowing himself overboard as of soiling his hands; there was no harm inhim, he was good-natured enough, but he was emphatically _the_ idler ofthe ship, never even making a pretence of performing any duty, butsimply dawdling about the deck in kid gloves, with an eye-glasseternally screwed into his starboard top-light. His one idea was thathe was a brilliant performer on the flute; and in his watch below he wasincessantly rendering the lives of his neighbours a burden to them bythe melancholy wailings which he evoked from that instrument. It wassaid that he could fight--when no other alternative was open to him--butthe bustle and confusion, and, above all, the exertion, he consideredsuch "a howwid boah," that he always most carefully avoided thoseoccasions for distinguishing himself, which other men are wont to seekwith avidity. Why on earth he ever entered the navy was a puzzle whichutterly defied solution.

  The master, Mr Rawlings, was a middle-aged man, quiet and unobtrusivein manner, and with very little to say upon any subject unconnected withhis profession. There, however, he was unapproachable. He was simplyperfect as a navigator, seemed to have been in and out of every harbourin the world, and was intimately acquainted with the position of everyrock and shoal which guarded their approach, together with thedistinctive features of every light, beacon, or buoy which announcedtheir vicinity; knew the direction and rates of the various currents,and could tell, without referring to his chart, the depths of water overbars and in channels, together with the bearings of the fairways in thelatter, how wide they were, and the hour of high-water in them at thefull and change of the moon; in fact, his information on such mattersappeared to be quite inexhaustible. He was unquestionably the ablestmaster in the entire British navy; and one of the first anxieties of acaptain, when in quest of a crew, was to get hold of "old Rawlings" asmaster.

  We midshipmen were six in number; four of my messmates being older, andone younger than myself. They were all good-tempered, agreeable lads,and in other respects were about on a par with the average run ofmidshipmen. The master's-mate, Mr Percival, was berthed with us. Hewas a fine, gentlemanly, young fellow of about eighteen years of age,with great ability and intense application, bidding fair to achieveeventually a reputation equal to that of his chief, for whom heentertained a profound admiration.

  And now, having introduced my fellow-officers, let me say what it isnecessary to say respecting the ship.

  The "Juno" was one of the old class of frigates, of which, however, shehappened to be an extremely favourable specimen. She was very strong,being oak-built throughout, and copper fastened; her timbers being ofthe most solid description, and exceptionally heavy scantling. She cameto us with the unenviable reputation of being a poor sailer, though shewas a very _good_ model, p
articularly under water; but Mr Annesley paidher a visit while in the dry dock, and attentively studied her lines,having done which he determined to alter her trim altogether, puttingher nine inches deeper down in the water aft, and reducing her ballastto the extent of twenty tons. The result answered his most sanguineexpectations; for while she still stood up well under her canvas, shewas steadier in a sea-way, lighter and drier forward, paid off quickerin stays, and though still scarcely a clipper, her rate of sailing hadconsiderably improved. Her accommodations were somewhat cramped, ascompared with the newer and larger class of frigates; but as far as Iwas concerned, coming into her from the little "Scourge," there seemedto be a positive superabundance of room. She mounted thirty-two longtwelves, and mustered a crew of 190 men.

  It had been my intention to act upon Sir Peregrine's suggestion, and askfor a day or two's leave to run home and see my friends once more,before finally quitting Old England upon a cruise of unknown duration;but we had been so excessively busy that I really had not the conscienceto make such a request; and now that the ship was finally ataunto, itappeared that we were to proceed to sea forthwith. I was thereforeobliged to content myself with writing them a long letter, to which Iput the finishing touches while we were waiting for the captain, MrAnnesley having kept a shore-boat alongside to take ashore a few letterswhich he had hastily scribbled after the completion of the preparationsfor unmooring, and by which he kindly intimated that any one who hadletters to send might send them.

  At length, about 3:30 in the afternoon, the captain's gig was seenapproaching the ship, the side was manned, and in a few minutes moreCaptain Hood stood upon his own quarter-deck.

  "You may--ah--run my gig up to the davits, if you please, Mr Annesley,"said he, "and then we will--aw--weigh at once if--ah--you haveeverything ready."

  "Quite ready, sir," replied the first luff, turning away to give thenecessary orders. The gig was hoisted up and secured, the hands weresent aloft to loose the canvas, the topsails were sheeted home and mast-headed, the jib run up, and, simultaneously with this, the capstan-barswere shipped, one of the ship's boys mounted the capstan-head violin inhand, and to a merry air upon that instrument out stepped the men, theanchor was quickly run up to the bows, and with the last drain of theflood-tide the "Juno," under topsails and jib, with a light north-easterly air of wind, glided with a slow and stately movement out of theharbour, squaring away directly down through the Solent as soon as wehad cleared the anchorage at Spithead, instead of going out round theisland to the eastward, as was at that time usual with men-o'-war. Thiscircumstance, trifling as it was, had a very exhilarating effect uponall hands, as it seemed to foreshadow that our skipper, notwithstandinghis somewhat affected manner, had a habit of taking the shortest andmost direct road when he had an object to achieve.

  There were several ships lying at Spithead as we passed through, and itwas observed that one of them--the "Boston," a frigate of about our ownsize--was just getting under way, her destination being the east coastof North America. Her skipper, Captain Courtenay, and ours were, itappeared, old friends, and having met that day at the Admirals' office,there had been a little good-natured banter between them as to thecomparative sailing powers of the two ships, each being of course ofopinion that his own ship could beat the other; and it had been finallyarranged that, as both frigates were to sail that day, there should be afriendly race down Channel, the stake being the time-honoured one--a newhat. Accordingly, as soon as we had room, the "Juno" was rounded-towith the main-topsail to the mast, to wait until the other ship shouldjoin us.

  We were not detained very long. Hardly were we hove-to when the"Boston" was seen threading her way out through the fleet, and in a fewminutes more she was close abreast of us, the "Juno" bearing up at themoment which would bring the bows of the two ships exactly level.Captain Courtenay appeared at the gangway as the "Boston" drew upalongside, and on our skipper showing himself, hailed "Juno ahoy! areyou ready?"

  "Ay, ay," was the response, "we are--aw--quite ready."

  "Then--_off_!" shouted the "Boston's" skipper, and at the word down camehis topgallant sheets, the yards going up at the same moment, and theroyal sheets fluttering down into their berths, as the yards rose tomeet them; then up went the royal yards to their respective mast-heads,the courses dropped heavily down, the staysails and flying-jib slid uptheir stays, and the driver was hauled out, the whole being done withthe regularity and rapidity of a well-oiled and easy-working machine.

  In the meantime our own hands had not been idle, and under MrAnnesley's able manipulation the "Juno" proved herself quite as smart asher antagonist in spreading her snowy pinions.

  From that moment all was pleasant excitement on board as the two shipsslid gently along side by side within hailing distance of each other.Speculation was rife, and the most diverse opinions as to the issue ofthe trial were expressed both on the quarter-deck and the forecastle.The "Boston" had the name of being a tolerably smart craft, but duringthe run down the Solent neither ship appeared able to claim any verydecided advantage over the other, sometimes one and sometimes the otherdrawing a trifle ahead. On arriving off "Egypt" we were able to edgeaway a little, and then stunsails were set on the starboard side in bothships, still, however, without altering our relative positions.

  As the sun declined toward the horizon the wind gradually dropped,finally dying away altogether, and leaving us absolutely motionless savefor the drift of the ebb-tide, which still swept us along to thewestward. It was a magnificent evening, the water, smooth as glass,reflecting on its glittering surface an absolutely unbroken picture ofour stately consort, with every snowy sail, every spar and rope, asclearly shown as though she were reposing on the polished surface of agigantic mirror. The western sky, glowing with tints of the clearest,palest amber melting into a delicate rose, which merged in its turnimperceptibly into a clear, deep, transparent blue as the eye glancedfrom the horizon toward the zenith, was without a trace of cloud, andagainst this pure and exquisitely tinted background the outlines ofHurst Castle stood sharply out, the castle itself and the low spit ofland on which it is built appearing of a deep, rich, powerful, purplehue, as though carved out of a giant amethyst, while the country furtherinland exhibited tints varying from the deepest olive--almostapproaching black--through the richest greens, away to the most delicateof pearly greys in the remote distance. The Wight--about a quarter of amile distant on our port hand--presented a picture of exquisite andalmost fairy-like beauty, with its wooded slopes, waving cornfields, andgrassy dells, aglow with the rich purply-golden haze of sunset,repeating their beauties in the waveless tide which washed its shores.As I stood gazing entranced upon the varied beauties of earth, sea, andsky, the scene gradually changed, a marvellous transformation was takingplace, the sky tints deepened into a warmer, richer glow, the colours ofthe landscape slowly faded into sombre neutral, the castle stood outblack as ebony against the dying flush in the sky, the water blushedcrimson for a moment, then paled to a cold greyish purple as a faintbreeze began to ruffle its surface, the azure of the sky becamemomentarily deeper and richer and more purple in tone, and presently,out from the clear cerulean depths started into view the planet Venus,beaming down upon us with a soft, silvery, lambent radiance, and tracingupon the bosom of the darkening wave a delicate thread of quiveringliquid light--

  "`Who can paint like Nature?'" said a voice at my elbow, while an armwas slid quietly within my own, and I found myself joined by youngRaleigh, a fellow-mid--and by all accounts a scion of the same family asthe renowned Sir Walter--"what mortal brush could hope to emulate theexquisite softness, delicacy, richness, and power of those tints whichhave just faded out of the picture before us, or what artist couldadequately express the quiet, dreamy beauty of the present scene? DameNature has been kind in permitting what will probably be our lastglimpse for some time to come of our native land, to be one of suchsurpassing loveliness. We are bound to a region the beauty of which hasbeen for ages a favourite theme among poets, yet I fa
ncy many of us willlook with yearning fondness upon the cherished memory of the partingsmile with which old England has bidden us a long good-night."

  "I am sure _I_ shall, for one," said I, "I have heard and read much ofthe beauties of the `sunny South,' but I find it difficult to imagineanything more exquisitely beautiful than many scenes which I havewitnessed at home when Nature has been in her happier moods."

  "Ah! that is because you have never been away from home," remarkedRaleigh. "I have already been up the Mediterranean once, and withoutfor a moment attempting to decry the--"

  "Hands, trim sails. In with the stunsails on the starboard side; rig inand secure the booms, ease up the larboard braces, and take a small pullupon the starboard, rig out the booms on the port side and get thestunsails on her again. Be smart, my lads, or we shall have the frigatealongside presenting us with a full view of her stern all the way downChannel."

  _So_ spake the first lieutenant, the boatswain's whistle chirped, and ina moment the stillness on board gave place to a scene of bustle andanimation. The breeze, after faintly ruffling the glassy surface of thewater with an occasional cat's-paw, came softly stealing out from theE.S.E., and every sail was immediately trimmed with the most scrupulousnicety to woo the gentle zephyr. The lighter and more lofty sails firstacknowledged its welcome presence, alternately swelling out andfluttering to the masts, like the gentle rise and fall of the breast ofsleeping beauty, then they filled out steadily, the lower and heaviercanvas also sullenly yielding to its influence; a soft, musical,rippling sound arose beneath the frigate's bows, tiny whirlpools formedin the wake of the rudder and trailed away astern, the pressure of thespokes upon the helmsman's hand became firm and steady, a faint creakwas occasionally heard aloft as the strain upon the spars increased, thesails "went to sleep," the sheets tautened out, the ripple under thebows grew louder and louder, until it emulated the rush of a mountaintorrent, and the foam gathered round the cutwater, hissing along theside, and swirling far away in our wake, as the "Juno," yielding to thefreshening breeze, swept out past the Needles, and hauled up a point ortwo for Ushant.