Having avowed their resolution not to pull another rope of theJulia's--even if at once restored to perfect health--all theinvalids, with the exception of the two to be set ashore, accompaniedus into the cutter: They were in high spirits; so much so thatsomething was insinuated about their not having been quite as ill aspretended.
The cooper's name was the last called; we did not hear what heanswered, but he stayed behind. Nothing was done about the Mowree.
Shoving clear from the ship, three loud cheers were raised; Flash Jackand others receiving a sharp reprimand for it from the consul.
"Good-bye, Little Jule," cried Navy Bob, as we swept under the bows."Don't fall overboard, Ropey," said another to the poor landlubber,who, with Wymontoo, the Dane, and others left behind, was lookingover at us from the forecastle.
"Give her three more!" cried Salem, springing to his feet and whirlinghis hat round. "You sacre dam raakeel," shouted the lieutenant ofthe party, bringing the flat of his sabre across his shoulders, "younow keepy steel."
The doctor and myself, more discreet, sat quietly in the bow of thecutter; and for my own part, though I did not repent what I had done,my reflections were far from being enviable.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
RECEPTION FROM THE FRENCHMAN
IN a few moments, we were paraded in the frigate's gangway; the firstlieutenant--an elderly yellow-faced officer, in an ill-cut coat andtarnished gold lace--coming up, and frowning upon us.
This gentleman's head was a mere bald spot; his legs, sticks; inshort, his whole physical vigour seemed exhausted in the productionof one enormous moustache. Old Gamboge, as he was forthwithchristened, now received a paper from the consul; and, opening it,proceeded to compare the goods delivered with the invoice.
After being thoroughly counted, a meek little midshipman was called,and we were soon after given in custody to half-a-dozensailor-soldiers--fellows with tarpaulins and muskets. Preceded by apompous functionary (whom we took for one of the ship's corporals,from his ratan and the gold lace on his sleeve), we were now escorteddown the ladders to the berth-deck.
Here we were politely handcuffed, all round; the man with the bambooevincing the utmost solicitude in giving us a good fit from a largebasket of the articles of assorted sizes.
Taken by surprise at such an uncivil reception, a few of the partydemurred; but all coyness was, at last, overcome; and finally ourfeet were inserted into heavy anklets of iron, running along a greatbar bolted down to the deck. After this, we considered ourselvespermanently established in our new quarters.
"The deuce take their old iron!" exclaimed the doctor; "if I'd knownthis, I'd stayed behind."
"Ha, ha!" cried Flash Jack, "you're in for it, Doctor Long Ghost."
"My hands and feet are, any way," was the reply.
They placed a sentry over us; a great lubber of a fellow, who marchedup and down with a dilapidated old cutlass of most extraordinarydimensions. From its length, we had some idea that it was expresslyintended to keep a crowd in order--reaching over the heads ofhalf-a-dozen, say, so as to get a cut at somebody behind.
"Mercy!" ejaculated the doctor with a shudder, "what a sensation itmust be to be killed by such a tool."
We fasted till night, when one of the boys came along with a couple of"kids" containing a thin, saffron-coloured fluid, with oily particlesfloating on top. The young wag told us this was soup: it turned outto be nothing more than oleaginous warm water. Such as it was,nevertheless, we were fain to make a meal of it, our sentry beingattentive enough to undo our bracelets. The "kids" passed from mouthto mouth, and were soon emptied.
The next morning, when the sentry's back was turned, someone, whom wetook for an English sailor, tossed over a few oranges, the rinds ofwhich we afterward used for cups.
On the second day nothing happened worthy of record. On the third, wewere amused by the following scene.
A man, whom we supposed a boatswain's mate, from the silver whistlehanging from his neck, came below, driving before him a couple ofblubbering boys, and followed by a whole troop of youngsters intears. The pair, it seemed, were sent down to be punished by commandof an officer; the rest had accompanied them out of sympathy.
The boatswain's mate went to work without delay, seizing the poorlittle culprits by their loose frocks, and using a ratan withoutmercy. The other boys wept, clasped their hands, and fell on theirknees; but in vain; the boatswain's mate only hit out at them; oncein a while making them yell ten times louder than ever.
In the midst of the tumult, down comes a midshipman, who, with a greatair, orders the man on deck, and running in among the bows, sets themto scampering in all directions.
The whole of this proceeding was regarded with infinite scorn by NavyBob, who, years before, had been captain of the foretop on board aline-of-battle ship. In his estimation, it was a lubberly piece ofbusiness throughout: they did things differently in the English navy.
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE REINE BLANCHE
I CANNOT forbear a brief reflection upon the scene ending the lastchapter.
The ratanning of the young culprits, although significant of theimperfect discipline of a French man-of-war, may also be consideredas in some measure characteristic of the nation.
In an American or English ship, a boy when flogged is either lashed tothe breech of a gun, or brought right up to the gratings, the sameway the men are. But as a general rule, he is never punished beyondhis strength. You seldom or never draw a cry from the young rogue. Hebites his tongue and stands up to it like a hero. If practicable(which is not always the case), he makes a point of smiling under theoperation. And so far from his companions taking any compassion onhim, they always make merry over his misfortunes. Should he turn babyand cry, they are pretty sure to give him afterward a sly pounding insome dark corner.
This tough training produces its legitimate results. The boy becomes,in time, a thoroughbred tar, equally ready to strip and take a dozenon board his own ship, or, cutlass in hand, dash pell-mell on boardthe enemy's. Whereas the young Frenchman, as all the world knows,makes but an indifferent seaman; and though, for the most part, hefights well enough, somehow or other he seldom fights well enough tobeat.
How few sea-battles have the French ever won! But more: how few shipshave they ever carried by the board--that true criterion of navalcourage! But not a word against French bravery--there is plenty ofit; but not of the right sort. A Yankee's, or an Englishman's, is thedownright Waterloo "game." The French fight better on land; and notbeing essentially a maritime people, they ought to stay there. Thebest of shipwrights, they are no sailors.
And this carries me back to the Reine Blanche, as noble a specimen ofwhat wood and iron can make as ever floated.
She was a new ship: the present her maiden cruise. The greatest painshaving been taken in her construction, she was accounted the "crack"craft in the French navy. She is one of the heavy sixty-gun frigatesnow in vogue all over the world, and which we Yankees were the firstto introduce. In action these are the most murderous vessels everlaunched.
The model of the Reine Blanche has all that warlike comeliness only tobe seen in a fine fighting ship. Still, there is a good deal ofFrench flummery about her--brass plates and other gewgaws stuck onall over, like baubles on a handsome woman.
Among other things, she carries a stern gallery resting on theuplifted hands of two Caryatides, larger than life. You step out uponthis from the commodore's cabin. To behold the rich hangings, andmirrors, and mahogany within, one is almost prepared to see a bevy ofladies trip forth on the balcony for an airing.
But come to tread the gun-deck, and all thoughts like these are put toflight. Such batteries of thunderbolt hurlers! with asixty-eight-pounder or two thrown in as make-weights. On the spar-deck,also, are carronades of enormous calibre.
Recently built, this vessel, of course, had the benefit of the latestimprovements. I was quite amazed to see on what high principles ofart some exceedingly simple things were done. But your Gaul issci
entific about everything; what other people accomplish by a fewhard knocks, he delights in achieving by a complex arrangement of thepulley, lever, and screw.
What demi-semi-quavers in a French air! In exchanging navalcourtesies, I have known a French band play "Yankee Doodle" with sucha string of variations that no one but a "pretty 'cute" Yankee couldtell what they were at.
In the French navy they have no marines; their men, taking turns atcarrying the musket, are sailors one moment, and soldiers the next; afellow running aloft in his line frock to-day, to-morrow standssentry at the admiral's cabin door. This is fatal to anything likeproper sailor pride. To make a man a seaman, he should be put to noother duty. Indeed, a thorough tar is unfit for anything else; andwhat is more, this fact is the best evidence of his being a truesailor.
On board the Reine Blanche, they did not have enough to eat; and whatthey did have was not of the right sort. Instead of letting thesailors file their teeth against the rim of a hard sea-biscuit, theybaked their bread daily in pitiful little rolls. Then they had no"grog"; as a substitute, they drugged the poor fellows with a thin,sour wine--the juice of a few grapes, perhaps, to a pint of the juiceof water-faucets. Moreover, the sailors asked for meat, and theygave them soup; a rascally substitute, as they well knew.
Ever since leaving home, they had been on "short allowance." At thepresent time, those belonging to the boats--and thus getting anoccasional opportunity to run ashore--frequently sold their rationsof bread to some less fortunate shipmate for sixfold its real value.
Another thing tending to promote dissatisfaction among the crew wastheir having such a devil of a fellow for a captain. He was one ofthose horrid naval bores--a great disciplinarian. In port, he keptthem constantly exercising yards and sails, and maneuvering with theboats; and at sea, they were forever at quarters; running in and outthe enormous guns, as if their arms were made for nothing else. Thenthere was the admiral aboard, also; and, no doubt, he too had apaternal eye over them.
In the ordinary routine of duty, we could not but be struck with thelistless, slovenly behaviour of these men; there was nothing of thenational vivacity in their movements; nothing of the quick precisionperceptible on the deck of a thoroughly-disciplined armed vessel.
All this, however, when we came to know the reason, was no matter ofsurprise; three-fourths of them were pressed men. Some old merchantsailors had been seized the very day they landed from distantvoyages; while the landsmen, of whom there were many, had been drivendown from the country in herds, and so sent to sea.
At the time, I was quite amazed to hear of press-gangs in a day ofcomparative peace; but the anomaly is accounted for by the fact that,of late, the French have been building up a great military marine, totake the place of that which Nelson gave to the waves of the sea atTrafalgar. But it is to be hoped that they are not building theirships for the people across the channel to take. In case of a war,what a fluttering of French ensigns there would be!
Though I say the French are no sailors, I am far from seeking tounderrate them as a people. They are an ingenious and right gallantnation. And, as an American, I take pride in asserting it.
CHAPTER XXX.
THEY TAKE US ASHORE--WHAT HAPPENED THERE
FIVE days and nights, if I remember right, we were aboard the frigate.On the afternoon of the fifth, we were told that the next morning shesailed for Valparaiso. Rejoiced at this, we prayed for a speedypassage. But, as it turned out, the consul had no idea of letting usoff so easily. To our no small surprise, an officer came along towardnight, and ordered us out of irons. Being then mustered in thegangway, we were escorted into a cutter alongside, and pulled ashore.
Accosted by Wilson as we struck the beach, he delivered us up to anumerous guard of natives, who at once conducted us to a house nearby. Here we were made to sit down under a shade without; and theconsul and two elderly European residents passed by us, and entered.
After some delay, during which we were much diverted by the hilariousgood-nature of our guard--one of our number was called out for,followed by an order for him to enter the house alone.
On returning a moment after, he told us we had little to encounter. Ithad simply been asked whether he still continued of the same mind; onreplying yes, something was put down upon a piece of paper, and hewas waved outside. All being summoned in rotation, my own turn cameat last.
Within, Wilson and his two friends were seated magisterially at atable--an inkstand, a pen, and a sheet of paper lending quite abusiness-like air to the apartment. These three gentlemen, beingarrayed in coats and pantaloons, looked respectable, at least in acountry where complete suits of garments are so seldom met with. Onepresent essayed a solemn aspect; but having a short neck and fullface, only made out to look stupid.
It was this individual who condescended to take a paternal interest inmyself. After declaring my resolution with respect to the shipunalterable, I was proceeding to withdraw, in compliance with a signfrom the consul, when the stranger turned round to him, saying, "Waita minute, if you please, Mr. Wilson; let me talk to that youth. Comehere, my young friend: I'm extremely sorry to see you associated withthese bad men; do you know what it will end in?"
"Oh, that's the lad that wrote the Round Robin," interposed theconsul. "He and that rascally doctor are at the bottom of the wholeaffair--go outside, sir."
I retired as from the presence of royalty; backing out with manybows.
The evident prejudice of Wilson against both the doctor and myself wasby no means inexplicable. A man of any education before the mast isalways looked upon with dislike by his captain; and, never mind howpeaceable he may be, should any disturbance arise, from hisintellectual superiority, he is deemed to exert an underhandinfluence against the officers.
Little as I had seen of Captain Guy, the few glances cast upon meafter being on board a week or so were sufficient to reveal hisenmity--a feeling quickened by my undisguised companionship with LongGhost, whom he both feared and cordially hated. Guy's relations withthe consul readily explains the latter's hostility.
The examination over, Wilson and his friends advanced to the doorway;when the former, assuming a severe expression, pronounced ourperverseness infatuation in the extreme. Nor was there any hope left:our last chance for pardon was gone. Even were we to become contriteand crave permission to return to duty, it would not now bepermitted.
"Oh! get along with your gammon, counsellor," exclaimed Black Dan,absolutely indignant that his understanding should be thus insulted.
Quite enraged, Wilson bade him hold his peace; and then, summoning afat old native to his side, addressed him in Tahitian, givingdirections for leading us away to a place of safe keeping.
Hereupon, being marshalled in order, with the old man at our head, wewere put in motion, with loud shouts, along a fine pathway, runningfar on through wide groves of the cocoa-nut and bread-fruit.
The rest of our escort trotted on beside us in high good-humour;jabbering broken English, and in a hundred ways giving us tounderstand that Wilson was no favourite of theirs, and that we wereprime, good fellows for holding out as we did. They seemed to knowour whole history.
The scenery around was delightful. The tropical day was fast drawingto a close; and from where we were, the sun looked like a vast redfire burning in the woodlands--its rays falling aslant through theendless ranks of trees, and every leaf fringed with flame. Escapedfrom the confined decks of the frigate, the air breathed spices tous; streams were heard flowing; green boughs were rocking; and farinland, all sunset flushed, rose the still, steep peaks of theisland.
As we proceeded, I was more and more struck by the picturesqueness ofthe wide, shaded road. In several places, durable bridges of woodwere thrown over large water-courses; others were spanned by a singlearch of stone. In any part of the road, three horsemen might haveridden abreast.
This beautiful avenue--by far the best thing which civilization hasdone for the island--is called by foreigners "the Broom Road," thoughfor what reason I do not know
. Originally planned for the convenienceof the missionaries journeying from one station to another, it almostcompletely encompasses the larger peninsula; skirting for a distanceof at least sixty miles along the low, fertile lands bordering thesea. But on the side next Taiarboo, or the lesser peninsula, itsweeps through a narrow, secluded valley, and thus crosses the islandin that direction.
The uninhabited interior, being almost impenetrable from thedensely-wooded glens, frightful precipices, and sharp mountain ridgesabsolutely inaccessible, is but little known, even to the nativesthemselves; and so, instead of striking directly across from onevillage to another, they follow the Broom Road round and round.
It is by no means, however, altogether travelled on foot; horses beingnow quite plentiful. They were introduced from Chili; and possessingall the gaiety, fleetness, and docility of the Spanish breed, areadmirably adapted to the tastes of the higher classes, who asequestrians have become very expert. The missionaries and chiefsnever think of journeying except in the saddle; and at all hours ofthe day you see the latter galloping along at full speed. Like theSandwich Islanders, they ride like Pawnee-Loups.
For miles and miles I have travelled the Broom Road, and never weariedof the continual change of scenery. But wherever it leadsyou--whether through level woods, across grassy glens, or over hillswaving with palms--the bright blue sea on one side, and the greenmountain pinnacles on the other, are always in sight.
CHAPTER XXXI.