Chapter IX: Miscellaneous 283 (4)

"I have told this tale at your own request, captain," said the second officer. "My main object has been not only to interest you, but to inform you of the dangers that may be expected in navigating these piratical waters. And I have been asked by Curly to warn you against hugging the land. He advises keeping well in mid-channel, as you are more likely to carry a true wind; and if any of the rovers should make their appearance and attempt pursuit, he says the thing that would terrify them most would be to shape at running them down; but if that course is adopted it must not be done in a halfhearted way. There should be no first-you-will and then-you-won't policy. Nothing but a daring, unfaltering attitude directed fair for the amidships can be effectual. They fear the loss of their vessel more than the disablement of a few men; and the leader of the band fears as much as anything the creation of panic amongst his followers. Damage to the running down vessel must be counted upon, but it must be arranged so that the other gets hit so badly that, instead of fighting they have to swim for their lives or plead for mercy. Curly informs me this is their prowling time, and they may be expected to pop out from any of the islands as we pass along."

Captain Macvie was much impressed, and thanked his second officer for relating to him a story so full of keen interest and useful information.

"You may rely on the facts being correct," said Mr Robb, "but should you have any doubts as to the authenticity of some of the things I have been talking to you about, reserve your final judgement, because it is pretty certain that you won't be long in this trade until you find out I have not exaggerated one single incident, and that there are gentlemen cruising in these waters who claim a law unto themselves, and who make a speciality of brigandage and murder. I understand from Curly that many of them are educated and well-bred, and that it is the love of adventure that causes that section of them to take to the life. They are adepts at playing the double role of society person and murderous buccaneer. In both capacities they are fascinating, and really irresistible at a ball or a dinner-party; so much so, indeed, that it is not an uncommon thing for young ladies of gentle birth to become their wives, and in exceptional cases share their adventures."

"Oh," said Captain Macvie, "you must not suppose that I doubt the truth of what you have related to me. I think it quite possible, and we must be prepared to cope with any sudden emergency of a similar character. I must now bid you good-night. You will find instructions in the night order book. I do not wish to be disturbed unless something unusual occurs."

Right through the night the _Boadicea_ romped along at the rate of ten knots an hour, and when the captain came on deck at eight o'clock the following morning she was flying through the Cerigo passage under double-reefed topsails and courses.

"There is no fear of any pirates troubling us if this continues," remarked the captain.

"Not any," responded the chief mate, "and I think we shall have more of it before we have less. You won't be able to carry this press of canvas after passing Andros. We will have the wind more on the port quarter, and she will bury herself after opening the AEgean Sea."

"Very well," said Macvie in an angry tone, "let her bury herself; and in order that her qualities may be tested before we reach this wonderful sea of yours, let the reefs out of the topsails and masthead them. I desire you to know, Mr Scrivener, that I shall be the judge when to shorten sail and when to set it. Do you imagine, sir, because I only commanded a collier before coming here that I do not know my business? Please remember that I am master of this craft, not you."

This was a crushing rebuke for the mate, and he resolved that if the masts were going over the side he would never make another suggestion while his chief was on deck. The additional canvas did not improve matters, as her flat bows sent the sea churning angrily ahead, and the spray flew all over her in smothering clouds. Mr Scrivener was secretly glad that she was "making such a mess of herself," as he called it, but he did not deem it prudent to say so to his captain. But, as he afterwards said, it was not necessary to do this, for he saw the skipper was thinking hard enough himself, though he was too proud to own it, and would have seen the masts go by the board rather than show weakness in shortening sail after what had passed. This freak, however, kept him on deck all day and all night, for there was no abatement of either wind or sea, until she was swept into the Dardanelles. The sail had to be shortened so that she might be hove to, and the boat sent ashore at Chanak to receive pratique and a permit to allow her to pass through into the sea of Marmora. Many an expensive salvage case and many a life has been lost through this barbarous system. It is the worst part of the channel for erratic currents, and notwithstanding the disasters to life and property, it has only been possible to establish a steam launch there during the last twelve months. As soon as the boat returned with the clearance she was hoisted up, and the vessel headed on her course through the straits. The west wind blew through the narrow passage with screaming gusts, and the volley of water was churned into flying foam as she rushed along under a heavy press of sail; for the young commander was bent on letting his officers and men see that he knew how to crack on without losing his head, and the average sailor rejoices in being able to say that he has sailed with a man who was "a slogger." On the other hand, I have more than once seen a whole crew come aft and ask the captain to reduce the sail when the vessel was burying herself and the spars and sails were in danger of being carried away; and I have more than once seen deputations of this sort sent about their business, followed by a wrathful flow of well-selected oaths that are only used by persons who have a very resourceful vocabulary. It is not an uncommon thing for men to grumble and refuse to go aloft and furl a royal or topgallant sail when it has been carried too long; and I have seen the captain spring up the rigging and appeal to their manliness to follow him. This challenge rarely fails to bring forth volunteers, and those who lag behind have been the cause of bringing torrents of wickedness into the world.

Captain Macvie was not a man who swore. He was more inclined to adhere to his rigid Presbyterian training by quoting a psalm or a proverb to emphasise displeasure or convey a rebuke. His officers did not comprehend how he could be so unemotional and yet throw so much energy and dash into the navigation of his vessel. Externally he was cool, reticent, authoritative. He gave orders peremptorily, without hesitation; and both officers and sailors like to feel that they have a strong personality commanding them. The first and second mate had formed an impression, owing to their captain never having been in these regions before, that he would frequently have to appeal to them for information and advice, and they were almost chagrined when they found that he never once showed any indication of asking for information. But what caused them to marvel was the masterful way in which he handled his vessel, and navigated her not only through amongst the islands, but through a narrow waterway that he had never seen before. The first officer ventured to make a suggestion, when drawing towards Chanak, as to the method of heaving the vessel to, so that the boat might be picked up easily. The captain retorted with almost oriental dignity.

"Sir," said he, "when I was asked to take command of this vessel I did not consent until I was perfectly assured of its being within the limit of my capacity to do so, and it has not yet occurred to me that I am incapable of carrying out what I undertook to do unaided by anyone. Please do not think me angry with you. I only wish to say that you may rely on my making use of your wide knowledge and experience when I find my capacity defective. But not having realized that yet, I prefer to depend on my own tactics in all that appertains to the navigation and handling of the ship I have the honour to command."

The mate received this piece of information in subdued silence. It took him all aback. He had not taken the trouble to ascertain whether there was force and ability behind his chief's placid, silent exterior, and the lesson he received was salutary and lasting. He watched with a critical eye the management and navigation as the _Boadicea_ was pressed through the stream past Gallipoli into the sea of Marmora, and admitted to the second mate that but for the excessive carrying on there was no flaw to be found.

"Indeed," said he, "I am beginning to see that we have got our master here in everything. I'm sure he is a gentleman, and I wouldn't be surprised to find that he's a sailor as well."

The following night the wind had fallen away to a gentle breeze. The vessel was sailed close past San Stephano, and soon came within range of that weird sepulchral cry of the Turk for the return of their prophet Mahomet. I know what it is like, for I have often stood on deck and listened to the melancholy wailing call of scores of voices appealing to their God, and filling the air with thrilling pathos, until I have been stricken with a sense of sadness myself, which caused me to envy the devotion of the people whom we, who call ourselves Christians, deride. Macvie was greatly touched by the sombre wail that was wafted over the glassy waters, and for a brief moment it took his thoughts to the old home of prayer and saintly song, and made him wonder whether the God to whom these people were calling could also be his. But he had no time to ponder over eternal things. His vessel was slipping towards the anchorage at Scutari. A suitable berth was picked, the anchor dropped, sails furled, and then the captain's gig was made ready by her crew, who were ordered to wash and dress themselves in white ducks and blue jerseys, the latter having the name of the vessel in front. All being ready, the master stepped into the boat and was rowed in regal style to a landing in the Golden Horn. He was met there by an agent, who informed him that he knew the stores were much needed in the Crimea, but no official instructions having been given, he would have to remain at anchor until they came.

"But don't you think," said the captain, "it would be as well for me to proceed off Sevastopol or Kertch, and see if they really are in need of the supplies I have on board?"

"My dear fellow," replied the agent, "you must never think of doing such a thing. It would be deemed a breach of the rules of the service, and you might be court-martialled and lose a splendid charter for doing so. Take my advice: lie where you are until red-tapeism finds out that the wares you are carrying for Government account are needed. You can make use of the time by putting your vessel in good order. It may be months before they come to your turn, and until they precisely come to it, you may rely on hearing nothing from them. Departmental methods are very exact. You must never be donkey enough to interfere with an ancient order of things: it might throw the machinery of uniformity into chaos. Of course I know you will say, 'That is all very excellent: but what about the poor, ill-fed, ill-clad, fever-stricken soldiers? Is it right that I should be an accomplice in this dreadful crime?' For God's sake, captain, leave off thinking like that, or it will harrow your soul out of its casing; look at things from the broad, brainless point of view of your mechanical employers who do everything by routine. Go on board and order your sails to be unbent and put into the sail cabin, for as sure as I am talking to you now, they will not be needed for months."

"Will they not have heard at home of the distress in the army?" interjected Captain Macvie.

"Why, yes, captain," said the versatile agent; "but, my dear fellow, do try to get it into your head that these things have to go through many intricate stages. First, the trouble which ought to have been foreseen takes place; then weeks are occupied in transfixed amazement without doing anything; then a council is held to consider why these breakdowns should happen; and the conclusion arrived at is that they should never have happened, therefore they have not taken place, and it is resolved to await further developments before doing anything more. How is it possible for the British army to have sickness in its ranks when we have thought of sending out medicine? And how can they be without food and clothes when we have given orders to our contractors to have these supplied? It is a malicious libel to assert such things, to say nothing of the lack of commonsense in supposing that the commissariat department does not know its own business."

"Well," said the captain, "I must admit you seem to know the inner workings of these Government concerns."

"I should just think I do," said the agent; "but of course we have to speak with some regard to discretion. I am only giving you a tip or two to keep you right. You will be going off aboard, so I will say 'good-day.' Come ashore to-morrow."

The captain had many opportunities of hearing from this voluble person of the magnificent mismanagement shown by the way the transports were kicking about in different parts of the Bosphorus and in the Black Sea. Many of them would sail to Kertch or Sevastopol and come straight back without their cargoes being broached. They anchored in a snug spot where the shore was easy of access, and would remain for months in peaceful indolence. The _Boadicea_ had been dismantled, and her anchor was never seen for six months. How the men were to be kept employed became a tax on the resources of the officers. Her sails, ropes and rigging had been thoroughly overhauled, repaired and made equal to new, and the hull showed indications of great taste and care. Not a speck of dirt or disorder could be seen anywhere; and notwithstanding the jolly entertainments, vocal and otherwise, they had on board each others' vessels almost every night, the life of inactivity became so dreary that they longed for the time when orders would be given to proceed to the Crimea. It was not mere change they longed for, but they craved to see the fighting on shore, and, better still, the bombardment of towns and ports by the warships from the sea. Many of the merchant sailors would have enjoyed taking part in the struggle.

Although the life at the Scutari anchorage had become a weary monotony, it was not without incidents of excitement. Constantinople at that time was overrun with the most daring brigands, who paid irregular visits to the different roadsteads between midnight and the early hours of the morning. They were armed with the most deadly weapons, and their secret movements frequently evaded every precaution of watchfulness. The sneaking caique, manned by accomplished emissaries handling muffled oars, was rowed through the anchorage in advance, and for the purpose of finding out the most vulnerable object of attack. Occasionally they selected the wrong ship, and met with a sudden determined resistance from the crew, who were eager for an opportunity of wreaking vengeance on a gang of murderous ruffians who kept the men of the whole mercantile fleet in these waters in a state of perpetual expectancy. Most ingenious methods were planned for their destruction. An anchor, for instance, would be hanging to the rail of the topgallant forecastle, or the cathead, and, as the caique came dropping down with the current, if they drifted her under the bow, the stopper and shankpainter was let go simultaneously, and the anchor landed on their heads and then through the bottom of the boat. Nothing more was ever seen of that batch! Another plan was to drop large stones or pieces of heavy iron into the frail craft; and in that case also no more was ever heard from them. These chances seldom came, however, as they were a wily lot, who nearly always made sure of their ground before embarking on a hazardous expedition. The crews of vessels were warned to keep a vigilant lookout, and sometimes the anchor watch succeeded in giving the alarm in time to frustrate a boarding.

But even this, and the open encounters that occurred, became a very monotonous business to a large number of crews. They were itching for some other sensation to be put into their lives, and they had moods of gloomy forebodings that the great war would be ended without their being able to say that they had seen anything of it; and, in fact, many of them never did, and it is fair to say some never wanted to. Poor Captain Wilkins of the _Seaflower_ and his crew were among the latter. The captain was a highly religious person who had imbued his men with anti-war proclivities. He had a simple faith in the righteousness of making large profits in consequence of the war, but never failed to proclaim the originators of it as a gang of unholy rascals. His faith had become strong in the belief that the robber was destined never to set foot on the _Seaflower's_ decks. She had been lying there for several months without ever having been interfered with. Captain Wilkins was not unduly sympathetic when he heard of any neighbouring vessel being pillaged during the night. In fact, he became so impressed with his own virtue that he frequently fell into the error of speaking contemptuously of his less fortunate brethren. Captain Macvie had warned him against indulging in self-righteousness, and never to pin his faith on immunity from attack.

"It may come," said he, "when you least expect it; and in order that you may cultivate a more generous spirit towards your neighbours when misfortune befalls them, always keep in mind the proverb: 'Rejoice not when thine enemy falleth, and let not thine heart be glad when he stumbleth, lest the Lord see it and it displease Him.' These are words that ought to be burnt into our minds and hearts."

"Yes," said Wilkins, "I appreciate your goodness in quoting them. They have reminded me that I have not been sufficiently charitable in judging others, while I have been at the same time professing to have the spirit of the great Redeemer."

Captain Wilkins held a prayer-meeting in his cabin each evening before the watch was set, and his friend Macvie nearly always attended, and professed to receive great spiritual benefit therefrom. At those devotional gatherings there was a simple petition offered to the Giver of all good that He should guard them during the night from the crimeful visitations of wicked men who coveted that which did not belong to them, and who did not shrink from murder in order to get it. Captain Wilkins had a profound belief in the efficacy of prayer, and was therefore staggered when he realized about two o'clock one morning that a giant of coppery colour stood over him with a revolver, while his compatriots helped themselves to all that was of value. At the time this was going on in the cabin, there stood an armed man at the entrance to the sailors' forecastle, and another in the galley in unpleasant proximity to the eldest apprentice, who had fallen asleep before the fire, and while he had slept the vessel had been boarded. Had he attempted to move or shout or make a noise of any kind whatsoever, his life would have been instantly taken, and his body thrown into the rushing stream. Poor fellow! I have often heard him speak of the dull terror that took possession of him when he awoke and saw that his own life and the lives of the whole ship's company depended on his submission and silence. The chronometer, every piece of brass, and every sail and rope of any importance was taken out of her, and this included the sails that were unbent. In fact, there was not a single article of that kind left aboard when the brigands went from alongside. This was one of the most daring and gigantic robberies that had taken place during the whole time the fleet had lain at anchor. Naturally it created a great sensation both afloat and ashore. Captain Wilkins was the object of much genuine sympathy. The whole of the personal losses of his officers and himself were promptly made good by subscription, and a good deal of the vessel's loss was contributed for as well. Never a finger was put on the perpetrators, though it was said the authorities were cognizant of their whereabouts. It was also whispered that they had accomplices in persons holding high official position, but this was never in any degree proved, and I should say it had no foundation in fact. The idea may have originated in consequence of the lethargic attitude of the officials whose duty it was to see that they were captured. At this time lawlessness was rampant in those parts, and it would have been beyond the capacity of even a more alert and energetic officialism to subdue its ferocious and determined attacks. In addition to the open brigandage that was carried on, several captains who for some reason were detained ashore until after dark were obliged to engage caiques to take them off to their vessels, and when in mid-stream the boat's crew, consisting as a rule of two Turks (or Greeks in Turks' clothing), would lay their oars in and demand them to give up all their money and valuables, or they would be thrown into the Bosphorus. And if they had the good fortune to have as their passenger a timid man they demanded that every article of dress should be given up so that they might be assured that nothing was concealed. Some of the more courageous and defiant, instead of complying with this peremptory request, took a revolver from a pocket, pointed it at the gentlemen at the oars, and suggested that as soon as they ceased to row they would have a lump of lead put into their heads. Whereupon they usually did as they were told. In cases of this kind the oars were taken from them as soon as the captain was put aboard and they were then set adrift. It was believed that several captains who never turned up were overpowered, robbed, and then thrown overboard.

The weather from the middle of October had been fitful and treacherous. On November 14, 1854, a terrible hurricane burst on the Crimean coast and wrecked nearly the whole of the British transports which lay at anchor in the roadsteads. Several warships and transports belonging to the French were wrecked. The British war vessels suffered severely, but none were said to have been lost. The loss of property was estimated at over a million, and the loss of life between 1,500 and 2,000. The devastation and suffering ashore was also very terrible. The news of the frightful disaster came to Constantinople on the night that the _Seaflower_ was pillaged. Instructions were given to send on supplies; the captain of the _Boadicea_ was among those who received orders to proceed off Sevastopol without delay. Wilkins was in great distress at having to part from the man whom he regarded as his friend and faithful adviser. Tugs were sent to tow the vessels through the Bosphorus into the Black Sea. A fresh wind blew from the west, and in four days after leaving, Captain Macvie anchored his ship in Sevastopol Roads, and many weeks elapsed before a particle of cargo was taken out and landed for the benefit of the much neglected soldiers--such was the disorganized condition of the service. Macvie and his crew saw many a skirmish and several pitched battles during their five months' stay in the vicinity of wild wreck and ruin. In April, 1855, the cargo had been all landed and instructions were given to sail at once for Constantinople. In due course they arrived there, and received orders to go on to Smyrna, to load hay and oats. Six weeks after passing down, she anchored in Scutari and lay there until peace was declared in 1856, when orders were given to take the cargo to Portsmouth. After about two years' absence the _Boadicea_ arrived in England; and on squaring up her accounts it was found that she had cleared more than twice her original cost. Mr Rockfeller received his fortunate and esteemed captain with much favour, and was not many minutes in his presence before he intimated with an air of generosity that he would sell his shares at par.

"I think," said he, "that you ought to hold half the vessel."

"Very good," said Macvie, "I will pay you cash for the number of shares I require to make up my half share, but you must not ask me to pay the original cost price."

"Macvie," said Rockfeller, "I wish you to be reminded that I gave you eight shares to work off when you joined me. I fear you allow your national love of money to lure you into forgetfulness."

"No, no," said the shrewd Scotchman; "you are wrong. I do not forget you having done what you say, nor do I forget that I have paid you a good price for what you were good enough to give me, and it is as well that your attention should be drawn to the fact that, owing to my foresight in chartering with the Government, the vessel has more than twice paid for herself in less than two years. Besides, if you are not satisfied with my services I have a very tempting offer from another firm."

At this stage Mr Rockfeller showed signs of nervous twitching, and interposed by assuming an injured air:

"Really, Captain Macvie, you must be reasonable, and not talk of other firms bidding for your services. I feel you are more than a match for me, and the thought of it makes me wish I had been born and reared a Scotchman. I know I am weak, but you may have the shares at any price you name; only don't be too exacting."

"Very good," replied Macvie, "they are mine at L1,000."

Rockfeller looked aghast, and again appealed to his sense of justice. The bargain was closed at L200 more.

Mr Rockfeller became transfixed with the thought of his own generous simplicity. He soliloquised, "I think I must have been born to become the victim of a stronger will than my own. Nature, I am assured, has freaked with me. Yes, Captain Macvie, you are in many ways the antithesis of myself; and my experience of you is very similar to the description given of a horse by the melancholy though eloquent Arab. I think these words describe our relations, my young friend, though the superb old philosopher who is reported to have said them never anticipated that they would be used in any such way: 'Hast thou given the horse strength? Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder? Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper? The glory of his nostrils is terrible. He paweth in the valley and rejoiceth in his strength: he goeth on to meet the armed men: he mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted: neither turneth he back from the sword. He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha! and he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains and the shouting.'"

"If," said the commander, "you mean these words of holy writ to apply to me, I am gratified, but fear you have under-estimated their grandeur and their real meaning. They pulsate the air, and make the heart throb with a conviction that the world of literature would have been poorer had they not been written. And now, Mr Rockfeller, let us cease further attempts at satire, and get to business. I wish to visit my parents who are very old; but before doing so I should like to have our little transaction settled and the future employment of the vessel arranged." The request was duly complied with in both respects.

The reunion of every branch of the Macvie family to do honour to the Captain and his wife was the occasion of great rejoicing. He had promised, long years before, on the eve of entering upon the real battle of life, that he would not return until he was a Captain, and may-be an owner, and he now presented himself with pride and modesty at the old homestead, thronged with a vast number of friends who came to welcome and congratulate him on having become both. After the flow of greeting had subsided, he requested a private interview with his father and mother. He informed them that a great joy had come into his life in being able to give a bankers' order for the payment of four pounds per month to them as long as they lived. The saintly couple's mental process became confused. They entered upon a long disquisition of how much affluence might affect their humility and endanger their religious life. The noble son urged that their faith in God was too strong to allow the possession of money to betray them into indifference. The father being spokesman replied on behalf of his wife that they accepted this bountiful goodness, "And believe me, my son," he said, "our hearts are too full to say all we feel; but may the great God have you in His holy keeping, and preserve you from the snares and fascinations of worldliness."

And the aged mother interjected by adding a supplementary petition that he should be saved from succumbing to the dangers of his profession.

"Take this present from your father and me," she added, handing him a new Bible which she had kept concealed under her black silk apron until the opportune moment came, "and when you are tossed on the troubled ocean, read about Jesus and the sea, and trust in the Lord to bring you back to us."

These simple words were delivered with compressed vehemence. A big lump stuck in Archie's throat, for he felt that it was his mother's farewell benediction, and that he would never see either of them on earth again. He would have liked to have responded in a few endearing phrases, but a dumb pain seized his heart and made him inarticulate. He tenderly embraced the old people and passed from their presence with a heavy heart, impressed with a consciousness that their next meeting would be beyond the tomb. A large procession of townspeople met at the station, in order to give the Captain and his wife a hearty send-off. Even the Provost came to say good-bye to them.

On their arrival home they found a letter had come from their friend Captain Wilkins. It was dated from Malta, and told a sickening tale of many disasters before getting away from Scutari. Two attempts at robbery had failed at the cost of one of the crew losing his life, and another being seriously wounded. Wilkins wrote: "It was bad policy making any noise about the big robbery, as it only made them revengeful." This news distressed the Macvies, but they could do nothing more than extend their sympathy, and this was tactfully and ungrudgingly given.

Captain Macvie had a long clean record of success. His popularity among his contemporaries was a growing process. No signs of rivalry were seen. He was looked up to as an authority, not only on nautical matters, but social, political and religious questions were well within his grasp. On one memorable occasion, when he was at home, a church meeting was called to consider the minister's relation in regard to his people. It was thought that he was not sound on sanctification, and one or two little matters that did not exactly bear on sanctification--a love affair, in fact. The gallant captain took the side of his minister, and put such a convincing case before his audience that a large majority declared the accusation not proven. There was wild excitement at this meeting; the hostile faction were rancorous about the captain being put up, as they assumed he could not possibly know all the facts; but both sides were one in admitting that his fame as a debater and an orator was established. So general was this belief that many of his adversaries congratulated him on having delivered a most eloquent speech.

The desire to sail with this distinguished man seized me like a vice. I determined as soon as I was free (for I was at that time an apprentice) nothing would prevent me from asking him to allow me to serve as an able seaman in the vessel which now entirely belonged to him. In a few days after making the memorable speech at his church, the _Boadicea_ was sailing down Channel on her way to the Black Sea. Mrs Macvie was aboard. She nearly always accompanied her husband, and was a good English woman, to whom the captain owed much for her thrifty habits and sound judgement. All the officers and most of the crew had sailed continuously with him since he took command. Curly, who had served aboard a pirate schooner, became quite an institution. He was very popular, and so were his pirate stories when he could be persuaded to tell them. He had served Macvie as A. B., boatswain, and was now steward. They had been to Taganrog and loaded a cargo of tallow for London. A gentle levanter was wafting them through the Archipelago. When they got abreast of the north end of Zea Island they observed a brigantine coming romping up to them under a cloud of sail. In light winds the _Boadicea_ did not sail fast. The breakfast bell had been rung, and as the captain was passing into the companion, Curly, who was standing close to, intimated that the following vessel was a pirate ship, and that she would soon overhaul them if the wind did not strengthen. Curly was always addressed as "Johnny" by Mrs Macvie, who was very fond of him, and as "Jake" by her husband, with whom he was a great favourite. The lady observed the concerned manner of the captain, and requested him to confer with Johnny as to the method of resistance should the schooner run alongside and the pirates attempt to come aboard. "He knows all about their tricks, and what they like and what they don't; let us hear what he has to say, Archie," said Mrs Macvie. So forthwith Jake was called into their presence. This resourceful gentleman was quite elated at the prospect of having some fun, as he termed it. His recommendations were of a very painful and drastic character. He talked of putting them into practice in a cool, frosty-blooded way which caused the lady and her husband to shudder. "It is too dreadful, Johnny," remarked Mrs Macvie; "surely what you say has never been resorted to, even to defeat the objects of pirates?"

"I don't suppose it has," said the sanguinary John; "but if you wish to save your property and the lives of yourselves and your crew, you will have to stick at nothing. My advice is, do your best to show them a clean pair of heels. If you get plenty of wind in the narrows you will easily do it; but be prepared for the worst. This is my plan: have everything that will hold in, filled with boiling water, boiling oil, and boiling pitch; have the old muskets ready for firing. If they ask you to shorten sail, don't do so. They will then run alongside, and as soon as they put their hands on the rail, blind them with boiling liquid. Then shoot with the rifles, and they won't want much telling to go away."

The chase was long and exciting. Sometimes the pirate vessel was very nearly within gun range, then the breeze would strengthen and she would fall astern. This alternate gaining and losing continued all day, until the sun went down behind the mountains far away to the north of them, and seemed to carry with it the breeze on which they had to depend for their safety. The chasing vessel gathered way as soon as the wind fell light, and the people of the _Boadicea_ saw that all hope of avoiding a fight must be discounted. Curly advised having it before darkness came on, but there was no need to wish for this as the stern inevitable had come. The pirates had almost within their grasp their expected prize, but were doomed to meet with a terrible penalty. They put their craft alongside, and about a score of men made a jump for the rail, when the intrepid Jake, who had full charge of the plan of defence and attack, shouted: "Now boys, pour it on them smartly!" and in an instant the pirates were an agonized rabble. Some of them jumped into the sea; others fell back on to their own vessel; two got on to the _Boadicea's_ deck, but were promptly put over the side. Boiling oil and pitch as well as boiling water were thrown aboard the schooner, so that even those who did not attempt a boarding did not escape the awful consequences of their piratical invasion. As soon as Captain Macvie saw that the punishment had been so great that they would more than probably never fight again, he tried to steer clear, but found the braces and other ropes had become entangled with the foreyard, which broke, and then the vessels separated. The stillness of the night was made a horror by the piteous moans that floated over the level sea, and excited the sympathy of the men who were compelled to inflict the suffering in order to preserve their own safety. They felt an instinctive desire to launch a boat and go to the succour of their victims. Curly, who knew the desperate character of these fearful men, advised his shipmates to have neither remorse nor pity. He assured them that the lesson given to the miscreants would not prevent those who might recover or those who had received no injury from taking to their trade with the same thievish and murderous zeal as they had practised heretofore.

"Do not talk of your conscience when you think of these devils," said he, "for, believe me, theirs are frozen, and all they want is a new crew and fresh opportunity, and they won't mince matters with us or any other ship's company. There is one thing, they won't be deceived in a hurry into the belief that they have a soft thing on because no apparent resistance is made; they will try to do some shooting first. They won't forget the effects of boiling oil and pitch. But let us cease chattering about them and get our rigging and sails repaired. We may need to have everything staunch and strong, as the sky is threatening mischief."

It took the crew four hours to repair the damage, and as they did so the wail of the suffering wretches became fainter and fainter, until it had faded away into space, or it may be that their hearts had ceased to throb. After things were settled down and the vessel was slashing through a passage which leads into the Mediterranean Sea with a fresh easterly wind, the faithful steward, who had provided a substantial meal for the captain and officers, was informed by the former that he and his crew were indebted to him for the ghastly achievements of the day. "But Jake, my boy, I almost wish we hadn't done it."

"Very well, then," said the blunt sailor with obvious indignation; "you'd better go back and apologize, but you must not expect me to join in the silly chorus. I suppose you are thinking of 'blessed are the peacemakers' again? If you are, then I want to remind you that these fellows were my compulsory pals once on a time, and I found that this was no part of their religion."

Mrs Macvie interposed that Johnny was right, and that they undoubtedly owed their lives to his genius.

"We had no intention of killing them or pillaging their ship, and they had both of these designs on us," said the logical lady, "so that we were justified in saving ourselves by the means which I fear have proved so fatal to them."

The steward was henceforth looked upon with great devotion, so much so that Mrs Macvie induced her husband to include him as one of the legatees in his will.

For many years after this episode the _Boadicea_ continued her trading. Captain Macvie made a great deal of money and then retired in favour of a younger man who was destined to have a short career as commander, for, on the second voyage from the Brazils, and almost within sight of his own home, his vessel was driven ashore by a hurricane and all hands were drowned. A few days later the weather was fine enough to allow fishermen to put to sea, and on rounding a rugged point on the coast some of them heard the piteous howling of a dog. They made towards it, and found it had taken shelter on the arm of a steep cliff. It was taken from its perilous position with great difficulty. A brass collar bearing the name of the ship and the owner suggested that it was the only survivor of the shipwreck. Poor Curly's body was discovered on the same day on a patch of yellow sand inside a cave. It was taken to a fisherman's hut, and round his neck was found a gold locket with four little portraits. Mr and Mrs Macvie were the idolised of one case, and his own wife and little girl were in the other. His body was put in the ground with reverence. Soon afterwards a cheque for five hundred pounds was received by his widow.

Mr Macvie and his wife lived to a ripe age in a very unpretentious way. Years later I came across my old commander and owner seated outside a small cottage which faced the sea in a remote part of Northumberland. The common in front of him was ablaze with shining flowers, and the sweet song of the lark swelled in the air. A sad, pensive look hallowed his comely face, which made me hesitate to interrupt the reverie; but he realized my presence and asked me to share his seat. He began to tell me that his mind was reviving some of his early experiences at sea.

"Ah!" said he, "I was thinking what a terrible end Curly and the old vessel came to. Poor Jake, he was a fine, swaggering fellow; a smart sailor, and as brave as a Turkish Bashi-Bazouk. He was very wayward at times, but always faithful as a mastiff dog to me. His apparent disregard for breaking the Sabbath grieved me, and when I rebuked him for it he frequently took me in a sort of humorous way as though it were a good joke to talk to him of religion. But he had periods of despondency and remorse which brought out visions of spiritual life. He would speak of death coming to take him from his wife and little girl in the most piteous way, and then I had to say to him, 'Do not be so irreverent to your Creator. Think of His imperishable goodness in saving you and me from the abysses that have so often confronted us. Think of those piratical throat-cutters whom He assisted us in vanquishing, and remember when God wants to take you He will take you.' I often quoted to him these words: 'I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord which made heaven and earth. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: He that keepeth thee will not slumber.' I do hope he remembered to say, when the hurricane woke out of the sky and was bearing them to destruction, 'Into Thine hand I commend my spirit: Thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of Truth.'"

"I never realized the intensity of your attachment to him, Captain Macvie," I interjected.

"Yes, it was very great," he soliloquised, "and the memory of his long association with me and the perilous life that he led and the horror of the tragic finish has caused my mind to revert to an occasion which nearly ended in the same way. We were caught by a heavy southerly gale when off Candia. I carried sail until she nearly jumped her masts over the side and herself out of water. We were then carrying the double reefed topsails, reefed courses, inner jib, fore and main topmast staysail, but the gale had so increased I gave orders to close-reef the topsails and furl the mainsail. I thought it better to run no further risk of dismasting her, as there was always a chance so long as they were kept standing. All hands were up reefing the main topsail and I had the wheel. I saw the black shadow of the mountains in the darkness towering far above our heads, and we seemed to be amongst the broken water to leeward. Every moment I expected her to strike and send us to our doom. A simple thought of the last words of my mother about Jesus and the sea flashed into my mind. I lashed the wheel for a moment or two, went to the lee side, knelt down, and offered a fervent prayer to Almighty God. I asked Him, if it was His will to save us, to do it in His own way. I had no sooner taken hold of the wheel again than the sails were caught aback by the wind veering and coming with the force of a hurricane from the opposite direction. It rushed from the mountain tops as from a funnel. I called to the men to come down and turn the yards round smartly. I feared she would not back off quickly and that she might get stern way on and knock the stern in and founder. My voice failed to carry through the vast roar of the tempest, but the men knew as well as I did that a critical moment had come, so they made their way on deck; the yards were quickly trimmed and I ran her dead off the land. We had not run more than eight to ten miles to the south amid a mad conflict of broken sea that twisted and lashed at the vessel, when all of a sudden the old wind came back and the struggle with the opposing legions for mastery kept for a time the vessel in imminent peril. Ultimately the southerly force prevailed, but fortunately it blew itself out in a few hours, and we sailed into fine weather. Never was a vessel so near destruction without being destroyed, and never were human lives so near passing from time into eternity. Even the most wayward of my crew attributed our safety to the pity of God, and they thanked Him with the usual condescension that sailors adopt even towards the Deity; but they never knew that I had addressed the Almighty on their behalf and on my own; and that is really how it comes that I am here to tell the tale."

V

SAILORS' OPINIONS OF NOTABLE PUBLIC MEN

The old-time sailors held strong opinions on law, i.e., sea law. The merits of military and naval notables and prominent politicians came within the limit of their strange discussions. Their naval heroes were Charlie Napier, Collingwood, Nelson and Hardy. They loved Napier best of all because he dared to be kind to his men and fight their battles for them against the authorities; they were never quite sure whether to give the weight of their respect on the side of Collingwood or Nelson; but as the latter came to grief at Trafalgar, he was generally given the benefit of any doubt as to superiority, and his devoted Hardy was regarded as a strong backer of the redoubtable national hero. They never got over the idea that poor Nelson was shot from the maintop by some of his own men and not by the French sharpshooters. It was a point that could never be cleared up to their satisfaction, hence the impression that his sailors must have had some grudge against him was very prevalent. His association with the King and Queen of the two Sicilies was said to have gone a long way towards giving him a swelled head, and in truth it was no mean distinction to be on terms of friendship with a daughter of Maria Theresa and sister to Marie Antoinette. They believed that Nelson had been influenced by the king and queen when in a soft-headed mood to commit an act that can never be obliterated. It was not only cruel and heartless, but it had close resemblance to a crime. "They talk," said they, "of the murder by Napoleon of their duke (Duke d'Enghien), but was it not as bad of Nelson to have Commodore Francisco Caracciolo tried by a court martial composed of the prisoner's enemies (Neapolitan officers) which sat only two hours aboard the _Faudroyant_ and found him guilty of rebellion against his sovereign?" He was ordered by Nelson to be hanged at the fore yardarm of the _Minerva_. The sight of this poor man dangling at the yardarm must have had a revolting impression on the minds of those who witnessed it, and the aversion of the public who merely heard of it must have been equally well founded. No wonder that it was handed down to subsequent generations of seamen, and caused them to say, as I have heard them that, "Nelson should have left the dirty, bloody business to his pal the King of the Sicilies and kept his own hands clean." They always spoke of his death as retribution. "If there isn't something in it," said they, superstitiously, "why was Collingwood and Hardy not hit?"