me that I shall go away unmolested.”
“I do promise you that you shall, upon my word, but recollect, Peter, that you are an officer and a gentleman—you surely would not be so shabby as to go away without treating us. What money have you got in your pocket?” and, without giving me time to answer, she felt in my pocket, and pulled out my purse, which she opened. “Why, Peter, you are as rich as a Jew,” said she, as they counted thirty shillings on the table. “Now what shall we have?”
“Anything you please,” said I, “provided that you will let me go.”
“Well, then, it shall be a gallon of gin. Sall, call Mrs. Flanagan. Mrs. Flanagan, we want a gallon of gin, and clean glasses.”
Mrs. Flanagan received the major part of my money, and in a minute returned with the gin and wine glasses.
“Now, Peter, my cove, let’s all draw round the table, and make ourselves cosy.”
“O no,” replied I, “take my money, drink the gin, but pray let me go!” but they wouldn’t listen to me. Then I was obliged to sit down with them, the gin was poured out, and they made me drink a glass, which nearly choked me. It had, however, one good effect, it gave me courage, and in a minute or two, I felt as if I could fight them all. The door of the room was on the same side as the fire-place, and I perceived that the poker was between the bars, and red-hot. I complained that it was cold, although I was in a burning fever; and they allowed me to get up to warm my hands. As soon as I reached the fire-place, I snatched out the red-hot poker; and brandishing it over my head, made for the door. They all jumped up to detain me, but I made a poke at the foremost, which made her run back with a shriek. (I do believe that I burnt her nose.) I seized my opportunity, and escaped into the street, whirling the poker round my head, while all the women followed, hooting and shouting after me. I never stopped running and whirling my poker until I was reeking with perspiration, and the poker was quite cold. Then I looked back, and found that I was alone. It was very dark; every house was shut up, and not a light to be seen anywhere. I stopped at the corner, not knowing where I was, or what I was to do. I felt very miserable indeed, and was reflecting on my wisest plan, when who should turn the corner, but one of the quarter-masters, who had been left on shore by accident. I knew him by his pea-jacket and straw hat to be one of our men, and I was delighted to see him. I told him what had happened, and he replied that he was going to a house where the people knew him, and would let him in. When we arrived there, the people of the house were very civil; the landlady made us some purl, which the quartermaster ordered, and which I thought very good indeed. After we had finished the jug, we both fell asleep in our chairs. I did not awaken until I was roused by the quarter-master, at past seven o’clock, when we took a wherry, and went off to the ship.
Chapter Eleven.
O’Brien takes me under his protection—The ship’s company are paid, so are the bumboat-women, the Jews, and the emancipationist after a fashion—We go to sea—“Doctor” O’Brien’s cure for sea-sickness—One pill of the doctor’s more than a dose.
When we arrived, I reported myself to the first lieutenant, and told him the whole story of the manner in which I had been treated, showing him the poker which I brought on board with me. He heard me very patiently, and then said, “Mr. Simple, you maybe the greatest fool of your family for all I know to the contrary, but never pretend to be a fool with me. That poker proves the contrary; and if your wit can serve you upon your own emergency, I expect that it will be employed for the benefit of the service.” He then sent for O’Brien, and gave him a lecture for allowing me to go with the press-gang, pointing out, what was very true, that I could have been of no service, and might have met with a serious accident.
At last the frigate was full manned; and, as we had received drafts of men from other ships, we were ordered to be paid previously to our going to sea. The people on shore always find out when a ship is to be paid, and very early in the morning we were surrounded with wherries, laden with Jews and other people, some requesting admittance to sell their goods, others to get paid for what they had allowed the sailors to take up upon credit. But the first lieutenant would not allow any of them to come on board until after the ship was paid; although they were so urgent, that he was forced to place sentries in the chains with cold shot, to stave the boats if they came alongside. About eleven o’clock the dock-yard boat, with all the pay clerks and the cashier, with his chest of money, came on board, and was shown into the fore-cabin, where the captain attended the pay-table. The men were called in, one by one, and as the amount and wages due had been previously calculated, they were paid very fast. The money was always received in their hats, after it had been counted out in the presence of the officers and captain. Outside the cabin door, there stood a tall man in black, with hair straight combed, who had obtained an order from the port-admiral to be permitted to come on board. He attacked every sailor as he came out, with his money in his hat, for a subscription to emancipate the slaves in the West Indies; but the sailors would not give him anything, swearing that the niggers were better off than they were; for they did not work harder by day, and had no watch and watch to keep during the night. “Sarvitude is sarvitude all over the world, my old psalm-singer,” replied one. “They sarve their masters, as in duty bound; we sarve the King, ’cause he can’t do without us—and he never axes our leave, but helps himself.”
Then the purser’s steward came out; he was what they call a bit of a lawyer, that is, had received more education than the seamen in general.
“I trust, sir,” said the man in black, “that you will contribute something.”
“Not I, my hearty; I owe every farthing of my money, and more too, I’m afraid.”
“Still, sir, a small trifle.”
“Why, what an infernal rascal you must be, to ask a man to give away what is not his own property! Did I not tell you that I owed it all? There’s an old proverb—Be just before you’re generous. Now, it’s my opinion, that you are a methodistical, good-for-nothing blackguard; and if any one is such a fool as to give you money, you will keep it for yourself.”
When the man found that he could obtain nothing at the door, he went down on the lower deck, and commenced distributing prints of a black man kneeling in chains and saying, “Am not I your brother?” Some of the men laughed, and swore that they would paste their brother up in the mess to say prayers for the ship’s company; but others were very angry, and abused him. At last, one man, who was tipsy, came up to him. “Do you pretend for to insinivate that this crying black thief is my brother?”
“To be sure I do,” replied the methodist.
“Then take that for your infernal lie,” said the sailor, hitting him in the face right and left, and knocking the man down into the cable tier, from whence he climbed up, and made his escape out of the frigate as soon as he was able.
The ship was now in a state of confusion and uproar; there were Jews trying to sell clothes, or to obtain money for clothes which they had sold; bumboat men and bumboat women showing their long bills, and demanding or coaxing for payment; other people from the shore, with hundreds of small debts; and the sailors’ wives, sticking close to them, and disputing every bill presented, as an extortion or a robbery. There were such bawling and threatening, laughing and crying—for the women were all to quit the ship before sunset—at one moment a Jew was upset, and all his hamper of clothes tossed into the hold; at another, a sailor was seen hunting everywhere for a Jew who had cheated him—all squabbling or skylarking, and many of them very drunk. It appeared to me that the sailors had rather a
