Peter Simple

“How the devil do you get them over, Captain Kearney?”

“There are ways and means of doing everything, Mr Phillott, and the First Consul is not quite so bad as he is represented. The first batch was sent over with a very handsome letter to me, written in his own hand, which I will show you some of these days. I wrote to him in return, and sent to him two Cheshire cheeses by a smuggler, and since that they came regularly. Did you ever eat Westphalia ham, Mr Simple?”

“Yes, sir,” replied I: “once I partook of one at Lord Privilege’s.”

“Lord Privilege! why he’s a distant relation of mine, a sort of fifth cousin,” replied Captain Kearney.

“Indeed, sir,” replied I.

“Then you must allow me to introduce you to a relation, Captain Kearney,” said the first lieutenant; “for Mr Simple is his grandson.”

“Is it possible? I can only say, Mr Simple, that I shall be most happy to show you every attention, and am very glad that I have you as one of my officers.”

Now, although this was all false, for Captain Kearney was not in the remotest manner connected with my family, yet, having once asserted it, he could not retract, and the consequence was, that I was much the gainer by his falsehood, as he treated me very kindly afterwards, always calling me cousin.

The first lieutenant smiled, and gave me a wink, when the captain had finished his speech to me, as much as to say, “You’re in luck,” and then the conversation changed. Captain Kearney certainly dealt in the marvellous to admiration, and really told his stories with such earnestness, that I actually believe that he thought he was telling the truth. Never was there such an instance of confirmed habit. Telling a story of a cutting-out expedition, he said, “The French captain would have fallen by my hand, but just as I levelled my musket, a ball came, and cut off the cock of the lock, as clean as if it was done with a knife—a very remarkable instance,” observed he.

“Not equal to what occurred in a ship I was in,” replied the first lieutenant, “when the second lieutenant was grazed by a grape shot, which cut off one of his whiskers, and turning round his head to ascertain what was the matter, another grape shot came and took off the other. Now that’s what I call a close shave.”

“Yes,” replied Captain Kearney, “very close, indeed, if it were true; but you’ll excuse me, Mr Phillott, but you sometimes tell strange stories. I do not mind it myself, but the example is not good to my young relation here, Mr Simple.”

“Captain Kearney,” replied the first lieutenant, laughing very immoderately, “do you know what the pot called the kettle?”

“No, sir, I do not,” retorted the captain, with offended dignity. “Mr Simple, will you take a glass of wine?”

I thought that this little brouillerie would have checked the captain; it did so, but only for a few minutes, when he again commenced. The first lieutenant observed that it would be necessary to let water into the ship every morning, and pump it out, to avoid the smell of the bilge water.

“There are worse smells than bilge water,” replied the captain. “What do you think of a whole ship’s company being nearly poisoned with otto of roses? Yet that occurred to me when in the Mediterranean. I was off Smyrna, cruising for a French ship, that was to sail to France, with a pacha on board, as an ambassador. I knew she would be a good prize, and was looking sharp out, when one morning we discovered her on the lee bow. We made all sail, but she walked away from us, bearing away gradually till we were both before the wind, and at night we lost sight of her. As I knew that she was bound to Marseilles, I made all sail to fall in with her again. The wind was light and variable; but five days afterwards, as I lay in my cot, just before daylight, I smelt a very strong smell, blowing in at the weather port, and coming down the skylight which was open; and after sniffing at it two or three times, I knew it to be otto of roses. I sent for the officer of the watch, and asked him if there were anything in sight. He replied ‘that there was not;’ and I ordered him to sweep the horizon with his glass, and look well out to windward. As the wind freshened, the smell became more powerful. I ordered him to get the royal yards across, and all ready to make sail, for I knew that the Turk must be near us. At daylight, there he was, just three miles ahead in the wind’s eye. But although he beat us going free, he was no match for us on a wind, and before noon we had possession of him and all his harem. By-the-bye, I could tell you a good story about the ladies. She was a very valuable prize, and among other things she had a puncheon of otto of roses on board—”

“Whew!” cried the first lieutenant. “What! a whole puncheon?”

“Yes,” replied the captain, “a Turkish puncheon—not quite so large, perhaps, as ours on board; their weights and measures are different. I took out most of the valuables into the brig I commanded—about 20,000 sequins—carpets—and among the rest, this cask of otto of roses, which we had smelt three miles off. We had it safe on board, when the mate of the hold, not slinging it properly, it fell into the spirit-room with a run and was stove to pieces. Never was such a scene; my first lieutenant and several men on deck fainted; and the men in the hold were brought up lifeless: it was some time before they were recovered. We let the water into the brig, and pumped it out, but nothing would take away the smell, which was so overpowering, that before I could get to Malta I had forty men on the sick-list. When I arrived there, I turned the mate out of the service for his carelessness. It was not until after having smoked the brig, and finding that of little use, after having sunk her for three weeks, that the smell was at all bearable; but even then it could never be eradicated, and the admiral sent the brig home, and she was sold out of the service. They could do nothing with her at the dock-yards. She was broken up, and bought by the people at Brighton and Tunbridge Wells, who used her timbers for turning fancy articles, which, smelling as they did so strongly of otto of roses, proved very profitable. Were you ever at Brighton, Mr Simple?”

“Never, sir.”

Just at this moment, the officer of the watch came down to say that there was a very large shark under the counter, and wished to know if the captain had any objection to the officers attempting to catch it.

“By no means,” replied Captain Kearney; “I hate sharks as I do the devil. I nearly lost 14,000 pounds by one, when I was in the Mediterranean.”

“May I inquire how, Captain Kearney;” said the first lieutenant, with a demure face; “I’m very anxious to know.”

“Why the story is simply this,” replied the captain. “I had an old relation at Malta, whom I found out by accident—an old maid of sixty, who had lived all her life on the island. It was by mere accident that I knew of her existence. I was walking upon Strada Reale, when I saw a large baboon that was kept there, who had a little fat pug-dog by the tail, which he was pulling away with him, while an old lady was screaming out for help or whenever she ran to assist her dog, the baboon made at her as if he would have ravished her, and caught her by the petticoats with one hand, while he had the pug-dog fast by the other. I owed that brute a spite for having attacked me one night when I passed him, and perceiving what was going on, I drew my sword and gave Mr Jacko such a clip, as sent him away howling and bleeding like a pig, leaving me in possession of the little pug, which I took up and handed to his mistress. The old lady trembled very much, and begged me to see her safe home. She had a very fine house, and after she was seated on the sofa, thanked me very much for my gallant assistance, as she termed it, and told me her name was Kearney: upon this I very soon proved my relationship with her, at which she was much delighted, requesting me to consider her house as my home. I was for two years afterwards on that station, and played my cards very well; and the old lady gave me a hint that I should be her heir, as she had no other relations that she knew anything of. At last I was ordered home, and not wishing to leave her, I begged her to accompany me, offering her my cabin. She was taken very ill a fortnight before we sailed, and made a will, leaving me her sole heir; but she recovered, and got as fat as ever. Mr Simple, the wine stands with you. I doubt if Lord Privilege gave you better claret than there is in that bottle: I imported it myself ten years ago, when I commanded the Coquette.”

“Very odd,” observed the first lieutenant—“we bought some at Barbadoes with the same mark on the bottles and cork.”

“That may be,” replied the captain; “old established houses all keep up the same marks; but I doubt if your wine can be compared to this. You have never tasted older wine, I think, Mr Phillott.”

“I beg you pardon, sir; but I can prove to you that I have, for when Noah paid off the ark, my ancestor bought his sea stock, and it’s been handed down to my father: there may be three dozen left.”

“Really, Mr Phillott, you are almost too facetious. Will you take some macaroni. It is one of the best things we can have at sea. I wish you had seen my kitchen at Walcot Abbey.”

“I have no doubt but it was excellent,” replied Mr Phillott; “but I should have preferred eating what came from it. I wish that I had a knowledge of the art which a friend of mine has—a new science, I may say.”

“Pray what may that be?”

“They call it fumography.”

“Fumography! never heard of it.”

“It is the art of knowing precisely, by examination of the smoke which comes out of the chimney, what your neighbour has for dinner.”

“Upon my soul, if one could send an excuse at a late hour, that might be useful.”

“My friend is quite an adept. He can tell first and second course entremets, and even if the different articles to be put on the table are done to a turn, or not.”

“Now, Mr Simple, what do you think of that?” inquired the captain.

“I think, sir, that it’s all smoke.”

“Bravo, Mr Simple! you’ve said a very good thing.”

So I thought, too; but, as I wasn’t quite sure, I would not laugh till all the rest of the company did.

As Mr Phillott wished to hear the end of the captain’s story, he would not contradict him about the wine, by stating what he knew to be the case, that the captain had sent it on board at Barbadoes; and the captain proceeded.

“Well, I gave up my cabin to the old lady, and hung up my cot in the gun-room during the passage home. We were becalmed abreast of Ceuta for two days. The old lady was very particular about her pug-dog, and I superintended the washing of the little brute twice a week but at last I was tired of it, and gave him to my coxswain to bathe. My coxswain, who was a lazy fellow, without my knowledge, used to put the little beast into the bight of a rope, and tow him overboard for a minute or so. It was during this calm that he had him overboard in this way, when a confounded shark rose from under the counter, and took in the pug-dog at one mouthful. The coxswain reported the loss as a thing of no consequence; but I knew better, and put the fellow in irons. I then went down and broke the melancholy fact to Miss Kearney, stating that I had put the man in irons, and would flog him well. The old lady broke out into a most violent passion at the intelligence, declared that it was my fault, that I was jealous of the dog, and had done it on purpose. The more I protested, the more she raved; and at last I was obliged to go off deck to avoid her abuse and keep my temper—I had not been on deck five minutes before she came up—that is, was shoved up, for she was so heavy that she could not get up without assistance. You know how elephants in India push the cannon through a morass with their heads from behind; well, my steward used to shove her up the companion-ladder just in the same way, with his head completely buried in her petticoats. As soon as she was up, he used to pull his head out, looking as red and hot as a fresh boiled lobster. Well, up she came, with her will in her hand, and looking at me very fiercely, she said, ‘since the shark has taken my dear dog, he may have my will also,’ and throwing it over board, she plunged down on the carronade slide. ‘It’s very well, madam,’ said I; ‘but you’ll be cool by-and-bye, and then you’ll make another will.’ ‘I swear by all the hopes that I have of going to heaven that I never will!’ replied she. ‘Yes you will, madam,’ replied I. ‘Never, so help me God! Captain Kearney, my money may now go to my next heir, and that, you know, will not be you.’ Now, as I knew very well that the old lady was very positive, and as good as her word, my object was to recover the will, which was floating about fifty yards astern, without her knowledge. I thought a moment, and then I called the boatswain’s mate to pipe all hands to bathe. ‘You’ll excuse me, Miss Kearney,’ said I, ‘but the men are going to bathe, and I do not think you would like to see them all naked. If you would, you can stay on deck.’ She looked daggers at me, and rising from the carronade slide, hobbled to the ladder, saying, that ‘the insult was another proof of how little I deserved any kindness from her.’ As soon as she was below, the quarter-boats were lowered down, and I went in one of them and picked up the will, which still floated. Brigs having no stern-windows, of course she could not see my manoeuvre, but thought that the will was lost for ever. We had very bad weather after that, owing to which, with the loss of her favourite pug, and constant quarrelling with me—for I did all I could to annoy her afterwards—she fell ill, and was buried a fortnight after she was landed at Plymouth. The old lady kept her word; she never made another will. I proved the one I had recovered at Doctor’s Commons, and touched the whole of her money.”

As neither the first lieutenant nor I could prove whether the story was true or not, of course we expressed our congratulations at his good fortune, and soon afterwards left the cabin to report the marvellous story to our messmates. I went on deck. I found that the shark had just been hooked, and was being hauled on board. Mr Phillott had also come on deck. The officers were all eager about the shark, and were looking over the side, calling to each other, and giving directions to the men. Now, although certainly there was a want of decorum on the quarter-deck, still the captain having given permission, it was to be excused, but Mr Phillott thought otherwise, and commenced in his usual style, beginning with the marine officer.

“Mr Westley, I’ll trouble you not to be getting upon the hammocks. You’ll get off directly, sir. If one of your fellows were to do so, I’d stop his grog for a month, and I don’t see why you are to set a bad example; you’ve been too long in barracks, sir, by half. Who is that?—Mr Williams and Mr Moore—both on the hammocks, too. Up to the fore-topmast head, both of you directly. Mr Thomas, up to the main; and I say, you youngster, stealing off, perch yourself upon the spanker-boom, and let me know when you’ve rode to London. By God! the service is going to hell. I don’t know what officers are made of now-a-days. I’ll marry some of you young gentlemen to the gunner’s daughter before long. Quarter-deck’s no better than a bear garden. No wonder, when lieutenants set the example.”

This latter remark could only be applied to O’Brien, who stood in the quarter-boat giving directions, before the tirade of Mr Phillott stopped the amusement of the party. O’Brien immediately stepped out of the boat, and, going up to Mr Phillott, touched his hat, and said, “Mr Phillott, we had the captain’s permission to catch the shark and a shark is not to be got on board by walking up and down on the quarter-deck. As regards myself, as long as the captain is on board, I hold myself responsible to him alone for my conduct; and if you think I have done wrong, forward your complaint; but if you pretend to use such language to me, as you have to others, I shall hold you responsible. I am here, sir, as an officer and a gentleman, and will be treated as such; and allow me to observe, that I consider the quarter-deck more disgraced by foul and ungentlemanly language, than I do by an officer accidentally standing upon the hammocks. However, as you have thought proper to interfere, you may now get the shark on board yourself.”

Mr Phillott turned very red, for he never had come in contact in this way with O’Brien. All the other officers had submitted quietly to his unpleasant manner of speaking to them. “Very well, Mr O’Brien; I shall hold you answerable for this language,” replied he, “and shall most certainly report your conduct to the captain.”

“I will save you the trouble; Captain Kearney is now coming up, and I will report it myself.”

This O’Brien did, upon the captain’s putting his foot on the quarter-deck.

“Well,” observed the captain to Mr Phillott, “what is it you complain of?”

“Mr O’Brien’s language, sir. Am I to be addressed on the quarter-deck in that manner?”

“I really must say, Mr Phillott,” replied Captain Kearney, “that I do not perceive anything in what Mr O’Brien said, but what is correct. I command here; and if an officer so nearly equal in rank to yourself has committed himself, you are not to take the law into your own hands. The fact is, Mr Phillott, your language is not quite so correct as I could wish it. I overheard every word that passed, and I consider that you have treated your superior officer with disrespect—that is me. I gave permission that the shark should be caught, and with that permission, I consequently allowed those little deviations from the discipline of the service, which must inevitably take place. Yet you have thought proper to interfere with my permission, which is tantamount to an order, and have made use of harsh language, and punished the young gentlemen for obeying my injunctions. You will oblige me, sir, by calling them all down, and in restraining your petulance for the future. I will always support your authority when you are correct; but I regret that, in this instance, you have necessitated me to weaken it.”

This was a most severe check to Mr Phillott, who immediately went below, after hailing the mast-heads, and calling down the midshipmen. As soon as he was gone, we were all on the hammocks again; the shark was hauled forward, hoisted on board, and every frying-pan in the ship was in requisition. We were all much pleased with Captain Kearney’s conduct on this occasion; and, as O’Brien observed to me, “He really is a good fellow and clever officer. What a thousand pities it is that he is such a confounded liar!” I must do Mr Phillott the justice to say that he bore no malice on this occasion, but treated us as before, which is saying a great deal in his favour, when it is considered what power a first lieutenant has of annoying and punishing his inferiors.

Chapter Thirty Three