Peter Simple

“Did any midshipman ever die on his chest from fatigue?”

They again replied in the negative.

“Then, gentlemen, you will oblige me by stating which of you thought proper to assert these falsehoods in a public coffee-room; and further, which of you obliged this youngster to risk his life in a duel?”

They were all silent.

“Will you answer me, gentlemen?”

“With respect to the duel, sir,” replied the midshipman who had fought me, “I heard say, that the pistols were only charged with powder. It was a joke.”

“Well, sir, we’ll allow that the duel was only a joke (and I hope and trust that your report is correct); is the reputation of your captain only a joke, allow me to ask? I request to know who of you dared to propagate such injurious slander?” (Here there was a dead pause.) “Well, then, gentlemen, since you will not confess yourselves, I must refer to my authority. Mr Simple, have the goodness to point out the person on persons who gave you the information.”

But I thought this would not be fair; and as they had all treated me very kindly after the duel, I resolved not to tell; so I answered, “If you please, sir, I consider that I told you all that in confidence.”

“Confidence, sir!” replied the captain; “who ever heard of confidence between a post-captain and a midshipman?”

“No, sir,” replied I, “not between a post-captain and a midshipman but between two gentlemen.”

The captain bit his lip, and then turning to the midshipmen, said, “You may thank Mr Simple, gentlemen, that I do not press this matter further. I do believe that you were not serious when you calumniated me; but recollect that what is said in joke is too often repeated in earnest. I trust that Mr Simple’s conduct will have its effect, and that you will leave off practising upon him, who has saved you from a very severe punishment.”

When the midshipmen went down below they all shook hands with me, and said, that I was a good fellow for not peaching: but, as for the advice of the captain, that they should not practise upon me, as he termed it, they forgot that, for they commenced again immediately, and never left off until they found that I was not to be deceived any longer.

The postman came on board with the letters, and put his head into the midshipmen’s berth. I was very anxious to have one from home, but I was disappointed. Some had letters and some had not. Those who had not, declared that their parents were very undutiful, and that they would cut them off with a shilling; and those who had letters, after they had read them, offered them for sale to the others, usually at half price. I could not imagine why they sold, or why the others bought them; but they did do so; and one that was full of good advice was sold three times, from which circumstance I was inclined to form a better opinion of the morals of my companions.

I mentioned the reason why I was so anxious for a letter, viz., because I wanted to buy my dirk and cocked-hat; upon which they told me that there was no occasion for my spending my money, as by the regulations of the service, the purser’s steward served them out to all the officers who applied for them. As I knew where the purser’s steward’s room was, having seen it when down in the cock-pit with the Trotters, I went down immediately. “Mr Purser’s Steward,” said I, “let me have a cocked-hat and a dirk immediately.”

“Very good, sir,” replied he, and he wrote an order upon a slip of paper, which he handed to me. “There is the order for it, sir; but the cocked-hats are kept in the chest up in the main-top, and as for the dirk, you must apply to the butcher, who has them under his charge.”

I went up with the order, and thought I would first apply for the dirk; so I inquired for the butcher, whom I found sitting in the sheep-pen with the sheep, mending his trowsers. In reply to my demand, he told me that he had not the key of the store-room, which was under the charge of one of the corporals of marines.

I inquired who, and he said, “Cheeks, the marine.” (This celebrated personage is the prototype of Mr Nobody on board of a man-of-war.)

I went everywhere about the ship, inquiring for Cheeks the marine, but could not find him. Some said that they believed he was in the foretop, standing sentry over the wind, that it might not change; others, that he was in the galley, to prevent the midshipmen from soaking their biscuit in the captain’s dripping-pan.

As I could not find the marine, I thought I might as well go for my cocked-hat, and get my dirk afterwards. I did not much like going up the rigging, because I was afraid of turning giddy, and if I fell overboard I could not swim; but one of the midshipmen offered to accompany me, stating that I need not be afraid, if I fell overboard, of sinking to the bottom, as, if I was giddy, my head at all events would swim; so I determined to venture. I climbed up very near to the main-top, but not without missing the little ropes very often, and grazing the skin of my shins. Then I came to large ropes stretched out from the mast so that you must climb them with your head backwards. The midshipman told me these were called the cat-harpings, because they were so difficult to climb, that a cat would expostulate if ordered to go out by them. I was afraid to venture, and then he proposed that I should go through lubber’s hole, which he said had been made for people like me. I agreed to attempt it, as it appeared more easy, and at last arrived, quite out of breath, and very happy to find myself in the main-top.

The captain of the main-top was there with two other sailors. The midshipman introduced me very politely:– “Mr Jenkins—Mr Simple, midshipman,—Mr Simple, Mr Jenkins, captain of the main-top. Mr Jenkins, Mr Simple has come up with an order for a cocked-hat.” The captain of the top replied that he was very sorry that he had not one in store, but the last had been served out to the captain’s monkey. This was very provoking. The captain of the top then asked me if I was ready with my footing.

I replied, “Not very, for I had lost it two or three times when coming up.” He laughed and replied, that I should lose it altogether before I went down; and that I must hand it out. “Hand out my footing!” said I, puzzled, and appealing to the midshipman; “what does he mean?”

“He means that you must fork out a seven-shilling bit.”

I was just as wise as ever, and stared very much; when Mr Jenkins desired the other men to get half-a-dozen foxes and make a spread eagle of me, unless he had his parkisite. I never should have found out what it all meant, had not the midshipman, who laughed till he cried, at last informed me that it was the custom to give the men something to drink the first time that I came aloft, and that if I did not, they would tie me up to the rigging.

Having no money in my pocket, I promised to pay them as soon as I went below; but Mr Jenkins would not trust me. “Why, sir,” said I, “do you know who you are speaking to? I am an officer and a gentleman. Do you know who my grandfather is?”

“O yes,” replied he, “very well.”

“Then, who is he, sir?” replied I, very angrily.

“Who is he! why he’s the Lord knows who.”

“No,” replied I, “that’s not his name; he is Lord Privilege.” (I was very much surprised that he knew that my grandfather was a lord.) “And do you suppose,” continued I, “that I would forfeit the honour of my family for a paltry seven shillings?”

This observation of mine, and a promise on the part of the midshipman, who said he would be bail for me, satisfied Mr Jenkins, and he allowed me to go down the rigging. I went to my chest, and paid the seven shillings to one of the topmen who followed me, and then went up on the main-deck to learn as much as I could of my profession.

Chapter Eight

My messmates show me the folly of running in debt—the episode of Sholto McFoy

Now that I have been on board about a month, I find that my life is not disagreeable. I don’t smell the pitch and tar, and I can get into my hammock without tumbling out on the other side. My messmates are good-tempered, although they laugh at me very much: but I must say that they are not very nice in their ideas of honour. A few days after I came onboard, I purchased some tarts of the bumboat woman, as she is called; I wished to pay for them, but she had no change, and very civilly told me she would trust me. She produced a narrow book, and said that she would open an account with me, and I could pay her when I thought proper. To this arrangement I had no objection, and I sent up for different things until I thought that my account must have amounted to eleven or twelve shillings. As I promised my father that I never would run in debt, I considered that it was then time that it should be settled. When I asked for it, what was my surprise to find that it amounted to 2 pounds 14 shillings, 6 pence. I declared that it was impossible, and requested that she would allow me to look at the items, when I found that I was booked for at least three or four dozen tarts every day, ordered by the young gentlemen “to be put down to Mr Simple’s account.” I was very much shocked, not only at the sum of money which I had to pay, but also at the want of honesty on the part of my messmates; but when I complained of it in the berth, they all laughed at me.

At last one of them said, “Peter, tell the truth; did not your father caution you not to run in debt?”

“Yes, he did,” replied I.

“I know that very well,” replied he: “all fathers do the same when their sons leave them; it’s a matter of course. Now observe, Peter; it is out of regard to you, that your messmates have been eating tarts at your expense. You disobeyed your father’s injunctions before you had been a month from home; and it is to give you a lesson that may be useful in after-life, that they have considered it their duty to order the tarts. I trust that it will not be thrown away upon you. Go to the woman, pay your bill, and never run up another.”

“That I certainly shall not,” replied I; but as I could not prove who ordered the tarts, and did not think it fair that the woman should lose her money, I went up and paid the bill, with a determination never to open an account with anybody again.

But this left my pockets quite empty, so I wrote to my father, stating the whole transaction, and the consequent state of my finances. My father, in his answer, observed that whatever might have been their motives, my messmates had done me a friendly act; and that as I had lost my money by my own carelessness, I must not expect that he would allow me any more pocket-money. But my mother, who added a postscript to his letter, slipped in a five-pound note, and I do believe that it was with my father’s sanction, although he pretended to be very angry at my forgetting his injunctions.

A few days before this, Mr Falcon, the first lieutenant, ordered me to put on my side-arms to go away on duty. I replied that I had neither dirk nor cocked hat, although I had applied for them. He laughed at my story, and sent me on shore with the master, who bought them, and the first lieutenant sent up the bill to my father, who paid it, and wrote to thank him for his trouble. That morning, the first lieutenant said to me, “Now, Mr Simple, we’ll take the shine off that cocked hat and dirk of yours. You will go in the boat with Mr O’Brien, and take care that none of the men slip away from it and get drunk at the tap.”

This was the first time that I had ever been sent away on duty, and I was very proud of being an officer in charge. I put on my full uniform, and was ready at the gangway a quarter of an hour before the men were piped away. We were ordered to the dockyard to draw sea-stores. When we arrived there, I was quite astonished at the piles of timber, the ranges of storehouses, and the immense anchors which lay on the wharf. There was such a bustle, everybody appeared to be so busy, that I wanted to look every way at once. Close to where the boat landed, they were hauling a large frigate out of what they called the basin; and I was so interested with the sight, that I am sorry to say, I quite forgot all about the boat’s crew, and my orders to look after them. Two of the men: belonging to the boat slipped away, and on my return they were not to be seen, I was very much frightened, for I knew that I had neglected my duty, and that on the first occasion on which I had been entrusted with responsible service. What to do I did not know. I ran up and down every part of the dock-yard until I was quite out of breath, asking every body I met whether they had seen my two men. Many of them said that they had seen plenty of men, but did not exactly know mine; some laughed, and called me a greenhorn. At last I met a midshipman, who told me that he had seen two men answering to my description on the roof of the coach starting for London, and that I must be quick if I wished to catch them; but he would not stop to answer any more questions.

I was proceeding on very disconsolately, when, as I turned a corner, to my great delight, I met my two men, who touched their hats and said that they had been looking for me. I did not believe that they told the truth, but I was so glad to recover them, that I did not scold, but went with them down to the boat, which had been waiting some time for us. O’Brien, the master’s mate, called me a young sculping, a word I had never heard before. When we arrived on board, the first lieutenant asked O’Brien why he had remained so long. He answered that two of the men had left the boat, but that I had found them. The first lieutenant appeared to be pleased with me, observing, as he had said before, that I was no fool, and I went down below overjoyed at my good fortune, and very much obliged to O’Brien for not telling the whole truth.

A day or two afterwards, we had a new messmate of the name of McFoy. I was on the quarter-deck when he came on board and presented a letter to the captain, inquiring first if his name was “Captain Sauvage.” He was a florid young man, nearly six feet high, with sandy hair, yet very good-looking. As his career in the service was very short, I will tell at once, what I did not find out till some time afterwards. The captain had agreed to receive him to oblige a brother officer, who had retired from the service, and lived in the Highlands of Scotland. The first notice which the captain had of the arrival of Mr McFoy, was from a letter written to him by the young man’s uncle. This amused him so much that he gave it to the first lieutenant to read: it ran as follows:—

“Glasgow, April 25th, 1—.

“Sir,—Our much esteemed and mutual friend, Captain McAlpine, having communicated by letter, dated the 14th inst., your kind intentions relative to my nephew, Sholto McFoy (for which you will be pleased to accept my best thanks), I write to acquaint you that he is now on his way to join your ship, the Diomede, and will arrive, God willing, twenty-six hours after the receipt of this letter.

“As I have been given to understand by those who have some acquaintance with the service of the King, that his equipment as an officer will be somewhat expensive, I have considered it but fair to ease your mind as to any responsibility on that score, and have therefore enclosed the half of a Bank of England note for ten pounds sterling, Number 3742, the other half of which will be duly forwarded in a frank promised to me the day after to-morrow. I beg you will make the necessary purchases, and apply the balance, should there be any, to his mess account, or any other expenses which you may consider warrantable or justifiable.

“It is at the same time proper to inform you that Sholto had ten shillings in his pocket at the time of his leaving Glasgow; the satisfactory expenditure of which I have no doubt you will inquire into, as it is a large sum to be placed at the discretion of a youth only fourteen years and five months old. I mention his age, as Sholto is so tall that you might be deceived by his appearance, and be induced to trust to his prudence in affairs of this serious nature. Should he at any time require further assistance beyond his pay, which I am told is extremely handsome to all King’s officers, I beg you to consider that any draft of yours, at ten days’ sight, to the amount of five pounds sterling English, will be duly honoured by the firm of Monteith, McKillop, and Company, of Glasgow. Sir, with many thanks for your kindness and consideration,

“I remain, your most obedient,

“Walter Monteith.”

The letter brought on board by McFoy was to prove his identity. While the captain read it, McFoy stared about him like a wild stag. The captain welcomed him to the ship, asked him one or two questions, introduced him to the first lieutenant, and then went on shore. The first lieutenant had asked me to dine in the gun-room; I supposed that he was pleased with me because I had found the men; and when the captain pulled on shore, he also invited Mr McFoy, when the following conversation took place.

“Well, Mr McFoy, you have had a long journey; I presume it is the first that you have ever made.”

“Indeed it is, sir,” replied McFoy; “and sorely I’ve been pestered. Had I minded all they whispered in my lug as I came along, I had need been made of money—sax-pence here, sax-pence there, sax-pence everywhere. Sich extortion I ne’er dreamt of.”