Sturdy and Strong: or, How George Andrews Made His Way
"An impudent little rascal!" the admiral exclaimed. "Midshipmen were impudent enough in my days, but this boy beats everything. However, his idea was an excellent one, and, by Jupiter! I will adopt it myself. A man should never be above learning, and we are in such a sore strait that one catches at a straw."
So saying, the admiral, calling to his own captain, entered his cabin, and at once indited a letter to the King of Denmark begging him to surrender in order to save the blood of his subjects, expressing admiration at the way in which they had fought, and saying that they had done all that was possible to save honor, and might now surrender with a full consciousness of having done their duty. This missive was at once dispatched to shore, and the admiral awaited with anxiety its result.
A half-hour elapsed, the firing continuing with unabated fury.
"By Jove, Ball," the admiral suddenly exclaimed, "there's the white flag!" and a tremendous cheer broke along the whole of the British ships as the flag of truce waved over the principal fort of Copenhagen. Instantly the fire on both sides ceased. Boats passed between the shore and the flagship with the proposals for surrender and conditions. Nelson insisted that the Danish fleet should be surrendered, in so firm and decisive a tone as to convince the king that he had it in his power completely to destroy the town, and had only so far desisted from motives of humanity. At length, to the intense relief of the admiral and his principal officers, who knew how sore the strait was, and to the delight of the sailors, the negotiations were completed, and the victory of Copenhagen won.
"Where's that boy?" the admiral asked.
"That boy" was unfortunately no longer on the quarter-deck. One of the last shots fired from the Danish fleet had struck him above the knee, carrying away his leg. He had at once been carried down to the cockpit, and was attended to by the surgeons of the flagship. In the excitement of an action men take but little heed of what is happening around them, and the fall of the young midshipman was unnoticed by his captain. Now, however, that the battle was over, Captain Ball looked round for his midshipman, and was filled with sorrow upon hearing what had happened. He hurried below to the wounded boy, whose leg had already been amputated, above the point at which the ball had severed it, by the surgeon.
"The white flag has been hoisted, my lad," he said, "and Copenhagen has been captured, and to you more than to anyone is this great victory due. I am sorry, indeed, that you should have been shot."
Harry smiled faintly.
"It is the fortune of war, sir. My career in the navy has not been a long one. It is but a fortnight since I got my commission, and now I am leaving it altogether."
"Leaving the navy, perhaps," the captain said cheerfully, "but not leaving life, I hope. I trust there's a long one before you; but Admiral Nelson will, I am sure, be as grieved as I am that the career of a young officer, who promised to rise to the highest honors of his profession and be a credit and glory to his country, has been cut short."
A short time later the admiral himself came down and shook hands with the boy, and thanked him for his services, and cheered him up by telling him that he would take care that his presence of mind and courage should be known.
For some days Harry lay between life and death, but by the time that the ship sailed into Portsmouth harbor the doctors had considerable hope that he would pull round. He was carried at once to the Naval Hospital, and a few hours later Peter Langley was by his bedside. His captain frequently came to see him, and upon one occasion came while his foster-father was sitting by his bedside.
"Ah, Peter, is it you?" he said. "Your son told me that you had served his majesty; but I didn't recognize the name as that of my old boatswain on board the Cleopatra."
"I am glad to see your honor," Peter said; "but I wish it had been on any other occasion. However, I think that the lad will not slip his wind this time; but he's fretting that his career on blue water is at an end."
"It is sad that it should be so," Captain Ball said; "but there are many men who may live to a good age and will have done less for their country than this lad in the short time he was at sea. First, he prevented the dispatch, which would have warned the enemy of what was coming, from reaching them; and, in the second place, his sharpness and readiness saved no small portion of Admiral Nelson's fleet, and converted what threatened to be a defeat into a victory. You must be proud of your son, old salt."
"Has not the boy told you, sir, that he's not my son?" the boatswain said.
"No, indeed!" Captain Ball exclaimed, surprised; "on the contrary, he spoke of you as his father."
In a few words Peter Langley related the circumstances of the finding of Harry when a baby. Captain Ball was silent for a while, and then said, "Do you know, Peter, that I have been greatly struck by the resemblance of that lad to an old friend and school-fellow of mine, a Mr. Harper? They are as like as two peas – that is, he is exactly what my friend was at his age. My friend never was married; but I remember hearing a good many years ago – I should say some fifteen years ago, which would be about in accordance with this lad's age – that he had lost a sister at sea. The ship she was in was supposed to have foundered, and was never heard of again. She was the wife of the captain, and was taking her first voyage with him. Of course it may be a mere coincidence; still the likeness is so strong that it would be worth while making some inquiries. Have you anything by which the child can be identified?"
"There are some trinkets, sir, of Indian workmanship for the most part, and a locket. I will bring them over to your honor to-morrow if you will let me."
"Do so," Captain Ball said; "I am going up to London to-morrow, and shall see my friend. Don't speak to the boy about it, for it's a thousand to one against its being more than a coincidence. Still I hope sincerely for his sake that it may be so."
The next evening Captain Ball went up by coach to London, and the following day called upon his friend, who was a rich retired East-Indian director. He told the story as Peter had told it to him.
"The dates answer," he said; "and, curiously, although the ship was lost in the West Indies, it's likely enough that the ornaments of my poor sister would have been Indian, as I was in the habit of often sending her home things from Calcutta."
"I have them with me," Captain Ball said, and produced the little packet which Peter had given him.
The old gentleman glanced at the ornaments, and then, taking the locket, pressed the spring. He gave a cry as he saw the portrait within it, and exclaimed, "Yes, that's the likeness of my sister as she was when I last saw her! What an extraordinary discovery! Where is the lad of whom you have been speaking? for surely he is my nephew, the son of my sister Mary and Jack Peters."
Captain Ball then related the story of Harry's doings from the time he had known him, and the old gentleman was greatly moved at the tale of bravery. The very next day he went down to Portsmouth with Captain Ball, and Harry, to his astonishment, found himself claimed as nephew by the friend of his captain.
When Harry was well enough to be moved he went up to London with his uncle, and a fortnight later received an official letter directing him to attend at the Board of Admiralty.
Donning his midshipman uniform he proceeded thither in his uncle's carriage, and walked with crutches – for his wound was not as yet sufficiently healed to allow him to wear an artificial leg – to the board-room. Here were assembled the first lord and his colleagues. Admiral Nelson was also present, and at once greeted him kindly.
A seat was placed for him, and the first lord then addressed him. "Mr. Peters, Admiral Nelson has brought to our notice the clever stratagem by which, on your own initiation and without instruction, you obtained the surrender of the Danish fort, and saved the Cæsar at a time when she was aground and altogether overmatched. Admiral Nelson has also been good enough to say that it was the success which attended your action which suggested to him the course that he took which brought the battle to a happy termination. Thus we cannot but feel that the victory which has been won is in no small degree due to you. Moreover, we are mindful that it was your bravery and quickness which prevented the news of the intended sailing of the fleet from reaching the Continent, in which case the attack could not have been carried out. Under such extraordinary and exceptional circumstances we feel that an extraordinary and exceptional acknowledgment is due to you. We all feel very deep regret that the loss of your leg will render you unfit for active service at sea, and has deprived his majesty of the loss of so meritorious and most promising a young officer. We are about, therefore, to take a course altogether without precedent. You will be continued on the full-pay list all your life, you will at once be promoted to the rank of lieutenant, three years hence to that of commander, and again in another three years to the rank of post captain. The board are glad to hear from Captain Ball that you are in good hands, and wish you every good fortune in life."
Harry was so overcome with pleasure that he could only stammer a word or two of thanks, and the first lord, his colleagues, and Admiral Nelson having warmly shaken hands with him, he was taken back to the carriage, still in a state of bewilderment at the honor which had been bestowed upon him.
There is little more to tell. Having no other relations his uncle adopted him as his heir, and the only further connection that Harry had with the sea was that when he was twenty-one he possessed the fastest and best-equipped yacht which sailed out of an English port. Later on he sat in Parliament, married, and to the end of his life declared that, after all, the luckiest point in his career was the cutting off of his leg by the last shot fired by the Danish batteries, for that, had this not happened, he should never have known who he was, would never have met the wife whom he dearly loved, and would have passed his life as a miserable bachelor. Peter Langley, when not at sea with Harry in his yacht, lived in a snug cottage at Southsea, and had never reason to the end of his life to regret the time when he sighted the floating box from the tops of the Alert.
SURLY JOE
"You wonder why I am called Surly Joe, sir? No, as you say, I hope I don't deserve the title now; but I did once, and a name like that sticks to a man for life. Well, sir, the fish are not biting at present, and I don't mind if I tell you how I got it."
The speaker was a boatman, a man some fifty years old, broad and weather-beaten; he had but one arm. I had been spending a month's well-earned holiday at Scarborough, and had been making the most of it, sailing or fishing every day. Upon my first arrival I had gone out with the one-armed boatman, and as he was a cheery companion, and his boat, the Grateful Mary, was the best and fastest on the strand, I had stuck to him throughout. The boatmen at our watering-places soon learn when a visitor fixes upon a particular boat, and cease to importune him with offers of a sail; consequently it became an understood thing after a day or two that I was private property, and as soon as I was seen making my way across the wet, soppy sand, which is the one drawback to the pleasure of Scarborough, a shout would at once be raised for Surly Joe. The name seemed a singularly inappropriate one; but it was not until the very day before I was returning to town that I made any remark on the subject. By this time we had become great allies; for what with a bathe in the morning early, a sail before lunch, and a fishing expedition afterwards, I had almost lived on board the Grateful Mary. The day had been too clear and bright for fishing; the curly-headed, barefooted boy who assisted Joe had grown tired of watching us catch nothing, and had fallen asleep in the bow of the boat; and the motion, as the boat rose and fell gently on the swell, was so eminently provocative of sleep that I had nodded once or twice as I sat with my eyes fixed on my line. Then the happy idea had occurred to me to remark that I wondered why my companion was called by a nickname which seemed so singularly inappropriate. Joe's offer to tell me how he obtained it woke me at once. I refilled my pipe, – an invariable custom, I observe, with smokers when they are sitting down to listen to a story, – passed my pouch to Joe, who followed my example; and when we had "lighted up" Joe began:
"Well, sir, it's about twelve years ago. I was a strong, active chap then – not that I aint strong now, for I can shove a boat over the sandbar with any man on the shore – but I aint as active as I were. I warn't called Surly Joe then, and I had my two arms like other men. My nickname then was Curly; 'cause, you see, my hair won't lay straight on my head, not when it gets as wet as seaweed. I owned my own boat, and the boys that worked with me warn't strangers, like Dick there, but they were my own flesh and blood. I was mighty proud of the two boys: fine straight tough-built lads was they, and as good-plucked uns as any on the shore. I had lost their mother ten years, maybe, before that, and I never thought of giving them another. One of 'em was about twelve, just the size of Dick there; the other was a year older. Full of tricks and mischief they was, but good boys, sir, and could handle the boat nigh as well as I could. There was one thing they couldn't do, sir – they couldn't swim. I used to tell 'em they ought to learn; but there, you see, I can't swim myself, and out of all the men and boys on this shore I don't suppose one in twenty on 'em can swim. Rum, aint it, sir? All their lives in the water or on the water, seeing all these visitors as comes here either swimming or learning to swim, and yet they won't try. They talks about instinks; I don't believe in instinks, else everybody who's got to pass his life on the water would learn to swim, instead of being just the boys as never does learn. That year, sir, I was doing well. There was a gentleman and his wife and darter used to use my boat regular; morning and afternoon they'd go out for a sail whenever it warn't too rough for the boat to put out. I don't think the old gentleman and lady cared so much for it; but they was just wrapped up in the girl, who was a pale, quiet sort o' girl, who had come down to the sea for her health. She was wonderful fond of the sea, and a deal o' good it did her; she warn't like the same creature after she had been here two months.
"It was a roughish sort of afternoon, with squalls from the east, but not too rough to go out: they was to go out at four o'clock, and they came down punctual; but the gentleman says, when he gets down:
"'We have just got a telegram, Joe, to say as a friend is coming down by the five-o'clock train, and we must be at the station to meet her, she being an invalid; but I don't want Mary to lose her sail, so will trust her with you.'
"'You'll take great care of her, Joe, and bring her back safe,' the mother says, half laughing like; but I could see she were a little anxious about lettin' her go alone, which had never happened before.
"'I'll take care of her, ma'am,' I says; 'you may take your oath I'll bring her back if I comes back myself.'
"'Good-by, mamma,' the girl says as she steps on the plank; 'don't you fidget: you know you can trust Joe; and I'll be back at half-past six to dinner.'
"Well, sir, as we pushed off I felt somehow responsible like, and although I'd told the boys before that one reef would be enough, I made 'em put in another before I hoisted the sail. There warn't many boats out, for there was more sea on than most visitors care to face; but once fairly outside we went along through it splendid. When we got within a mile of Fley, I asks her if we should turn, or go on for a bit farther.
"'We shall go back as quick as we've come, shan't we, Joe?'
"'Just about the same, miss; the wind's straight on the shore.'
"'We haven't been out twenty minutes,' she says, looking at her watch; 'I'd rather go a bit farther.'
"Well, sir, we ran till we were off the brig. The wind was freshening, and the gusts coming down strong; it was backing round rather to the north too, and the sea was getting up.
"'I a'most think, miss, we'd better run into Filey,' I says; 'and you could go across by the coach.'
"'But there's no danger, is there, Joe?'
"'No, miss, there aint no danger; but we shall get a ducking before we get back; there's rain in that squall to windward.'
"'Oh, I don't care a bit for rain, Joe; and the coach won't get in till half-past seven, and mamma would be in a dreadful fright. Oh, I'd so much rather go on!'
"I did not say no more, but I put her about, and in another few minutes the squall was down upon us. The rain came against us as if it wanted to knock holes in the boat, and the wind just howled again. A sharper squall I don't know as ever I was put in. It was so black you couldn't have seen two boats' length. I eased off the sheet, and put the helm up; but something went wrong, and – I don't know rightly how it was, sir. I've thought it over hundreds and hundreds of times, and I can't reason it out in any sort of form. But the 'sponsibility of that young gal weighed on me, I expect, and I must somehow ha' lost my head – I don't know, I can't account for it; but there it was, and in less time than it takes me to tell you we were all in the water. Whatever I'd ha' been before, I was cool enough now. I threw one arm round the gal, as I felt her going, and with the other I caught hold of the side of the boat. We was under water for a moment, and then I made shift to get hold of the rudder as she floated bottom upwards. The boys had stuck to her too, but they couldn't get hold of the keel; for you know how deep them boats are forward, drawing nigh a foot of water there more than they does astern. However, after a bit, they managed to get down to'rds the stern, and get a hand on the keel about halfway along. They couldn't come no nigher, because, as you know, the keel of them boats only runs halfway along. 'Hould on, lads!' I shouted; 'hould on for your lives! They'll have seen us from the cliff, and 'll have a lugger out here for us in no time.'
"I said so to cheer them up; but I knew in my heart that a lugger, to get out with that wind on, would have to run right into t'other side o' the bay before she could get room enough to weather the brig. The girl hadn't spoken a word since the squall struck us, except that she gave a little short cry as the boat went over; and when we came up she got her hands on the rudder, and held on there as well as she could with my help. The squall did not last five minutes; and when it cleared off I could look round and judge of our chances. They weren't good. There was a party of people on the cliff, and another on the brig, who were making their way out as far as they could on the brig, for it were about half-tide. They must have seen us go over as we went into the squall, for as we lifted I could see over the brig, and there was a man galloping on horseback along the sands to'rds Filey as hard as he could go. We were, maybe, a quarter of a mile off the brig, and I saw that we should drift down on it before a boat could beat out of the bay and get round to us. The sea was breaking on it, as it always does break if there's ever so little wind from the east, and the spray was flying up fifty feet in places where the waves hit the face of the rock. There aint a worse place on all the coast than this, running as it do nigh a mile out from the head, and bare at low water. The waves broke over the boat heavy, and I had as much as I could do to hold on by one hand to the rudder, which swung backwards and forwards with every wave. As to the boys, I knew they couldn't hold on if they couldn't get onto the bottom of the boat; so I shouted to 'em to try to climb up. But they couldn't do it, sir; they'd tried already, over and over again. It would ha' been easy enough in calm water; but with the boat rolling and such waves going over her, and knocking them back again when they'd half got up, it was too much for 'em. If I'd ha' been free I could have got 'em up by working round to the side opposite 'em, and given them a hand to haul them up; but as it was, with only one hand free, it took me all my time to hold on where I was. The girl saw it too, for she turned her face round to me, and spoke for the first time.
"'Let me go, please,' says she, 'and help your boys.'
"'I can't do it,' said I. 'I've got to hold you till we're both drowned together.'
"I spoke short and hard, sir; for, if you'll believe me, I was actually beginning to hate that gal. There was my own two boys a-struggling for their lives, and I couldn't lend a hand to help 'em, because I was hampered by that white-faced thing. She saw it in my face, for she gave a sort of little cry, and said:
"'Oh, do – do let me go!'
"I didn't answer a word, but held on all the harder. Presently Bill – he was my youngest boy – sang out:
"'Father, can't you get round and lend us a hand to get up? I can't hold on much longer.'
"'I can't help you, Bill,' says I. 'I've given my promise to take this young woman back, and I must keep my word. Her life's more precious to her father than yours is to me, no doubt, and she's got to be saved.'
"It was cruel of me, sir, and altogether unjust, and I knew it was when I said it, but I couldn't help it. I felt as if I had a devil in me. I was just mad with sorrow and hopelessness, and yet each word seemed to come as cold and hard from me as if it was frozen. For a moment she didn't move, and then, all of a sudden like, she gave a twist out of my arms and went straight down. I grabbed at her, and just got hold of her cloak and pulled her up again. She never moved after that, but just lay quiet on my arm as if she was dead. Her head was back, half in, half out of the water; and it was only by the tears that run down sometimes through her eyelids, and by a little sob in her breast, that I knew that she was sensible.
"Presently Bill says, 'Good-by, father. God bless you!' and then he let go his hold and went down. Five minutes afterwards, maybe, though it seemed a week to me, Jack did the same.
"There we was – the girl and I – alone.
"I think now, sir, looking back upon it, as I was mad then. I felt somehow as that the gal had drowned my two boys; and the devil kept whispering to me to beat her white face in, and then to go with her to the bottom. I should ha' done it too, but my promise kept me back. I had sworn she should get safe to shore if I could, and it seemed to me that included the promise that I would do my best for us both to get there. I was getting weak now, and sometimes I seemed to wander, and my thoughts got mixed up, and I talked to the boys as if they could hear me. Once or twice my hold had slipped, and I had hard work enough to get hold again. I was sensible enough to know as it couldn't last much longer, and, talking as in my sleep, I had told the boys I would be with 'em in a minute or two, when a sound of shouting quite close roused me up sudden.
"Then I saw we had drifted close to the brig. Some men had climbed along, taking hold hand-in-hand when they passed across places where the sea was already breaking over, and bringing with them the rope which, as I afterwards heard, the man on horseback had brought back from Filey. It was a brave deed on their part, sir, for the tide was rising fast. When they saw I lifted my head and could hear them they shouted that they would throw me the rope, and that I must leave go of the boat, which would have smashed us to pieces, as I knew, if she had struck the rocks with us. Where they were standing the rock was full six feet above the sea; but a little farther it shelved down, and each wave ran three feet deep across the brig. They asked me could I swim; and when I shook my head, for I was too far gone to speak now, one of 'em jumped in with the end of the rope. He twisted it round the two of us, and shouted to his friends to pull. It was time, for we weren't much above a boat's length from the brig. Three of the chaps as had the rope run down to the low part of the rock and pulled together, while another two kept hold of the end of the rope and kept on the rock, so as to prevent us all being washed across the brig together. I don't remember much more about it. I let go the boat, sank down at once, as if the girl and I had been lead, felt a tug of the rope, and then, just as the water seemed choking me, a great smash, and I remember nothing else. When I came to my right senses again I was in a bed at Filey. I had had a bad knock on the head, and my right arm, which had been round the girl, was just splintered. They took it off that night. The first thing as they told me when I came round was that the gal was safe. I don't know whether I was glad or sorry to hear it. I was glad, because I had kept my promise and brought her back alive. I was sorry, because I hated her like pison. Why should she have been saved when my two boys was drowned? She was well-plucked, was that gal, for she had never quite lost her senses; and the moment she had got warm in bed with hot blankets, and suchlike she wanted to get dry clothes and to go straight on to Scarborough in a carriage. However, the doctor would not hear of it, and she wrote a little letter saying as she was all right; and a man galloped off with it on horseback, and got there just as they had got a carriage to the door to drive over to Filey to ask if there was any news there about the boat. They came over and slept there, and she went back with them next day. I heard all this afterwards, for I was off my head, what with the blow I had got and one thing and another, before I had been there an hour. And I raved and cussed at the girl, they tell me, so that they wouldn't let her father in to see me.
