Read Newton Forster; Or, The Merchant Service Page 13


  VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

  Once more upon the waters. BYRON.

  As Newton had lost his credentials from Captain Northfleet, as well asthe vessel confided to his charge, he did not consider it necessary topay his respects to the port admiral at Plymouth. On the contrary, heset off as fast as his legs could carry him to Liverpool, to ascertainthe condition of his father. We shall pass over the difficulties heexperienced on his journey. There is no country where travelling ismore easy or more rapid, than in England, provided that you have plentyof money; but when you travel _in forma pauperis_, there is no countryin which you get on so badly. Parish rates and poor laws have dried upthe sources of benevolence; and as Newton did not apply to the overseersfor his three-half-pence a mile, he got on how he could, which was badlyenough. When at last he did arrive at Liverpool, he found himself astone or two the lighter, and would have been pronounced by CaptainBarclay to have been in excellent training.

  Newton had written to his father, acquainting him with his impressment;but was doubtful whether the letter had ever been received, as it hadbeen confided to the care of one of the women who left the frigate theevening previous to her sailing. When he arrived at the house heperceived his father at his bench as usual, but doing nothing, and theshop windows were bare.

  Newton entered, and his father looked up.

  "Why, Newton, my dear boy, is it you?" cried Nicholas; "what a longwhile you have been away! Well, how is Mr Hilton?--and how is yourpoor mother?"

  "My dear father," replied Newton, taking his hand, "did not you receivemy letter?"

  "No, I received no letter. What a time you have been away I declare itmust be two or three months, or more."

  "It is nearly twelve months, my dear father: I was pressed at Bristol,have been on board of a man-of-war; and have just escaped from a Frenchprison."

  Newton then entered into a narrative of his adventures, to theastonishment of Nicholas, who heard him with open mouth.

  "Dear me! so you've been in a man-of-war, and in France; then you don'tknow how your poor mother is?"

  "Have you not inquired, my dear father?"

  "No, I thought you would come home, and tell me all about it," repliedNicholas with a sigh.

  "How have you got on here?" said Newton, to change the conversation.

  "Very bad indeed, Newton--very bad indeed; I have not had six jobs sinceyou left me."

  "I am sorry to hear it, father; have you any thing to eat in the house,for I am very hungry?"

  "I am afraid not much," replied Nicholas, going to the cupboard, andproducing some bread and cheese. "Can you eat bread and cheese, my dearboy?"

  "I could eat a horse, my dear father," replied Newton, who had walkedthe last twelve hours without sustenance.

  Newton attacked the provender, which soon disappeared.

  "I have been obliged to sell most of the shop furniture," said Nicholas,observing Newton to cast his eyes at the empty window. "I could nothelp it. I believe nobody wears spectacles in Liverpool."

  "It can't be helped, father; we must hope for better times."

  "Yes, we must trust in God, Newton. I sold my watch yesterday, and thatwill feed us for some time. A sailor came into the shop, and asked if Ihad any watches to sell: I told him that I only repaired them atpresent; but that when my improvement in the duplex--" Here Nicholasforgot the thread of his narrative, and was commencing a calculationupon his intended improvement, when Newton interrupted him.

  "Well, sir, what did the sailor reply?"

  "Oh! I forgot; I told him that I had a watch of my own, that I wouldpart with it, which went very well; and that it would be cheaper to himthan a new one; that it cost fifteen pounds; but I was in want of money,and would take five pounds for it. He saw how sorry I was to part withit--and so I was." Here Nicholas thought of his watch, and forgot hisstory.

  "Well, my dear father," said Newton, "what did he give you for it?"

  "Oh!--why, he was a kind good creature, and said that he was not the manto take advantage of a poor devil in distress, and that I should havethe full value of it. He put the watch in his fob and counted outfifteen pounds on the counter. I wanted to return part: but he walkedout of the shop, and before I could get round the counter he had gotround the corner of the street."

  "'Twas a God-send, my dear father," replied Newton, "for I have not ahalfpenny. Do you know what became of my chest, that I left on board ofthe sloop?"

  "Dear me! now I think of it, it came here by the waggon. I put it upstairs. I wondered why you sent it."

  Newton having appeased his hunger, went up stairs, and found all hiswearing apparel had been forwarded by Mr Hilton, who supposed him dead,and that he was enabled to make a more respectable appearance than whatthe privateer's people had hitherto permitted him. In a few days hefelt quite recovered from his fatigue, and sallied forth in search ofemployment. On the day after his arrival at Liverpool he had written tothe asylum, to inquire the fate of his mother. The answer which hereceived was, that Mrs Forster had recovered, and remained many monthsin the establishment as nurse; but that ten days back she had quittedthe asylum, and that her address was not known.

  Newton, who had no means of prosecuting further inquiry, was obliged tobe satisfied with the intelligence that his mother was alive and well.He communicated the information to Nicholas, who observed--

  "Poor thing; she's looking for us, depend upon it, Newton, and will behere very soon:" and this expectation was revived whenever Nicholasthought of his wife; and he continued satisfied.

  We must allow many months to pass away in one paragraph--months ofineffectual struggle against poverty and want of employment, whichNewton made every exertion to obtain as mate of a merchant vessel. Theway in which he had been impressed had caused a dread of the king'sservice, which he could not overcome; and although he had but to choosehis ship as a sailor before the mast, he could not prevail upon himselfto accept a berth which was not protected from the impress. Withoutrecommendation he could not obtain the situation of mate, and hecontinued to work as a rigger in the docks, until his hand wasunfortunately severely jammed by the heel of a topmast, and he was laidup for many weeks. Each day their fare became scantier, and they werereduced to their last shilling, when Newton was again able to go out andseek employment.

  It was a rough day, blowing hard from the South East, when Newton, whohad tried his fortune on board of every vessel (crowded as they were inthe docks) without success, walked in a melancholy and disappointed moodalong the splendid pier which lines the river-side. Few people wereout, for the gusts of wind were accompanied by smart driving showers ofrain. Here and there was to be seen a boat pulling up in shore to fetchthe shipping in the stream, who with a heavy strain on their cables wereriding to the South East gale, and a strong ebb tide. Newton had madeup his mind to enter on board of one of these vessels about to, sail,provided they would advance him a part of his wages for his father'ssupport; when, as a heavy squall cleared away, he perceived that a boathad broken adrift from the outermost vessel (a large brig), with onlyone man in it, who was carried away by the rapid current, assisted bythe gale blowing down the river, so as to place him in considerablerisk. The man in the boat tossed out his oar, and pulling first on oneside, and then on the other, tried to make for the shore; but in vain.He was swept away with a rapidity which threatened in less than an hourto carry him out to sea, unless assistance were afforded him.

  Another heavy squall again hid the boat from the sight of Newton, whohad been anxiously watching to ascertain if any relief was sent from theshipping, and who was now convinced that the disaster had not beenperceived. He therefore ran down the bank of the river, waiting untilthe squall should blow over, and enable him to discover the boat.

  In about ten minutes the squall passed over, and the boat was againpresented to his sight; she was still in the centre of the stream, aboutthree hundred yards from the shore. The man who was in her, finding allhis attempts futile, had l
ain on his oar, and was kneeling in the sternsheets, apparently in supplication. Newton could not resist the appeal;it appeared to point out to him that he was summoned to answer the callmade upon Providence. The boat was now a quarter of a mile farther downthe river than where he stood, and about three miles from the town andshipping, both of which were no longer discernible from the thickness ofthe weather. Newton threw off his coat, and plunging into the agitatedwater, the cold of which nearly checked his respiration, swam off intothe stream in a direction so as to allow himself to fetch to windward ofthe boat. He was soon carried down to it by the rapidity of the tide,and, as he approached, he shouted to announce his presence. The man inthe boat started up at the sound of a human voice, and perceiving Newtonclose to the bows, lent over and extended his hand towards, him. Newtonseized hold of it, and then was whirled round by the tide fore and aftwith the side of the boat, with such violence as nearly to drag theother man out, and half fill the boat with water. It was with greatdifficulty, although assisted by the occupant, that Newton contrived atlast to get in; when, exhausted with the efforts he had made, heremained a few seconds without motion; the man, whom he had thus riskedhis life to save, perceiving his condition, and not speaking to him.

  "We have no time to lose," said Newton, at last: "take an oar, and letus pull in for the shore. If once we are swept down to the narrowsthere will be little chance for us."

  The other complied, without speaking; and, after a few minutes exertionthe boat was safely landed on the Liverpool side of the river.

  "The Lord be praised!" ejaculated Newton's companion, as he laid on hisoar. "I did not call upon _Him_ in vain; your accident has been themeans of my preservation."

  "How do you mean?" inquired Newton.

  "Why, did you not fall overboard?" replied the other.

  Newton then explained to his companion what we have already related tothe reader, ending his narrative with the observation, that when heperceived him praying for assistance in his peril, he could not resistthe appeal.

  "God will reward you, young man," continued he: "and now I will explainto you how it was that I was adrift, like a bear in a washing-tub. Myfirst-mate was below. I had just relieved the deck, for in this blowingweather we must keep watch in harbour. The men were all at theirdinner, when I heard the boat thumping under the main channels. I gotinto her to ease off a fathom or two of the painter; but as I hauled herahead to get at the bend, it appears that the monkey of a boy who madeher fast, and has been but a few months at sea, had made a `_slipperyhitch_;' so away it went, and I was adrift. I hailed them on board; butthey did not hear me, although the first-mate might have, for he was inthe cabin, and the stern window was up; but hailing to windward is hardwork, such weather as this; the words are blown back again down your ownthroat. And now, let me know a little about you, my lad, and seewhether I cannot in return be of some use to you."

  Newton's history was soon told; and, at the conclusion, he had thesatisfaction of finding that he had obtained the very situation which hehad been in search of.

  "I have no second mate on board," observed the captain of the brig; "butI intended to have shipped one to-morrow. I was only divided betweenwhich to take of two who have offered themselves, with equally goodrecommendations. Fortunately, I would promise neither; and, as I thinkyour own recommendation stronger than theirs, the berth is at yourservice. I only wish, for your sake, that it was that of first-mate. Iam sure you would prove yourself fit for the situation; and I cannot saythat I am very partial to the one that I have at present; but he is arelation of the owner's."

  The arrangements were soon made. Mr Berecroft, the master of thevessel, advanced Newton a sum to fit himself out, and agreed with theowner at Liverpool, that one half of Newton's wages should be allottedmonthly to his father. The next morning (as the vessel had a pilot onboard, and the weather had moderated,) Newton took leave of his father,and with a light heart accompanied his new acquaintance on board of thevessel.

  It was early in the morning when they embarked in a hired boat, the onebelonging to the brig still remaining down the river, where they hadlanded. The first-mate, as it appeared, was in the cabin shavinghimself, previous to his going on shore to the owner to report thesupposed loss of his superior. The sailors were either busy or downbelow, so that no notice was taken of the boat coming alongside; andNewton, with the master, were both on the deck before the circumstancewas known to the first-mate. It so happened, that at the very samemoment that they came on board, the first-mate was ascending thecompanion hatch, to order a boat to be lowered down, and manned. Whenhe perceived Mr Berecroft, he fell back with astonishment, and turnedpale.

  "I thought you were gone," said he: "why, what could have saved you? didyou not drift out to sea?"

  "It appears, then, Mr Jackson, that you knew that I was adrift,"replied the master seriously, looking him steadfastly in the face.

  "That is,"--replied the mate, confused--"I thought--of course, seeingthe boat was not alongside--that you had drifted away in her; how ithappened--of course, I know not."

  "I should trust, for your conscience sake, Mr Jackson, that you didnot; however, here I am again, as you see, by the blessing ofProvidence, and the exertions of this young man, whom I must introduceto you as our second-mate."

  Jackson cast an angry glance at Newton upon the conclusion of thisspeech. The master had truly observed that it was strange thefirst-mate did not hear him when he had hailed the brig for assistance.The fact was, that Jackson had both heard him and seen him; but he was awretch devoid of all feeling, who consulted nothing except his owninterest. He had made sure that the master would be carried out to sea,there to perish by a most miserable death, and that he would succeed incommand of the vessel. He was then going on shore to report thesupposed "_falling overboard_" of the master: which as the brig was tosail as the weather moderated, would have secured to him the command,and, at the same time, have put an end to the search which (should hehave reported the truth) would immediately have taken place for the boatin which the master had been adrift. Foiled in his hopes, by thecourage of Newton, Jackson had already formed towards him a deadlyhatred and determination of revenge.

  That evening the wind abated, and the vessel sailed. The ensuingmorning she was clear of the sands, and a pilot vessel off Holyheadhaving received the pilot, she steered down the Irish Channel to join aconvoy for the West Indies, collecting at Falmouth.

  Mr Berecroft, the master of the vessel, who has not hitherto beendescribed, was a spare, light-built person, of about sixty years of age,still active, and a thorough seaman. He had crossed the ocean forforty-five years, and his occasional narratives, as he walked the deck,or sat over his evening glass of grog, proved that his life must havebeen one of no ordinary variety and interest. He was serious andrationally devout. He checked all swearing from the men under hiscommand, and rebuked it, although he could not prevent it, in thefirst-mate; who, to annoy him, seldom made his appearance on deckwithout making use of some execration or another. It was MrBerecroft's custom to call down the seamen into his cabin every evening,and read to them a short prayer; and, although this unusual ceremonyoften caused a leer in some of the newly-entered men, and was not onlyunattended but ridiculed by Jackson, still the whole conduct ofBerecroft was so completely in unison, that even the most idle andthoughtless acknowledged that he was a good man, and quitted the shipwith regret. Such was Mr Berecroft; and we have little further to add,except that he was very superior to the generality of masters ofmerchant vessels. His family, it was reported, were strict quakers.

  Jackson, the first-mate, was a bull-headed, sandy-haired Northumbrian;as we before stated, a relation of the owner's, or he never would havebeen permitted to remain in the ship. The reader has already had someinsight into his diabolical character. It will be sufficient to add,that he was coarse and blustering in his manners; that he never forgotand never forgave an injury; gratitude was not in his composition; and,to gratify his revenge,
he would stop at nothing.

  On the third day, the brig, which was named the Eliza and Jane, afterthe two daughters of the owner, arrived at Falmouth, where she anchoredin the outer roads, in company with thirty or forty more, who hadassembled at the appointed rendezvous. On the second day after theirarrival, a fifty-gun ship, frigate, and two corvettes, made theirappearance off the mouth of the harbour; and after a due proportion ofguns, some shotted and some not, the whole convoy were under weigh, andhove-to round their protectors. The first step taken by the latter wasto disembarrass their _proteges_ of one-third of their crews, leavingthem as defenceless as possible, that they might not confide in theirown strength, but put their whole trust in the men-of-war, and keep asclose to them as possible. Having taken out every unprotected man, theydistributed convoy signals in lieu, and half a dozen more guns announcedthat they were to make sail--an order immediately complied with: themerchant vessels, loaded with canvass below and aloft, while themen-of-war, with their topsails on the caps, sailed round and roundthem, firing shot at every unfortunate vessel which was not able to sailas well as the rest.

  The convoy left Falmouth, seventy-five in number; but in a few daysthere were but forty in sight. Those who remained behind either madetheir voyage how they could, or were taken by the enemy's privateers,who followed in the wake of the convoy. Some few were carried into theFrench ports; and the underwriters of the policy eat but little dinneron the day which brought the intelligence of their capture. Others wereretaken by the English blockading squadrons, who received then oneeighth for salvage. At last the men-of-war were fairly running down thetraders, with about twenty-five of the best sailors in company; and thecommodore deemed it advisable to take particular care of the few whichremained, lest he should be "_hauled over the coals_" by the Admiralty.Nothing worth comment occurred during the remainder of the passage.They all arrived safe at Barbadoes, when the commodore brought in hisreturns to the admiral, and complained bitterly of the obstinacy of themasters of merchant vessels, who would part company with him, indefiance of all his injunctions, and in spite of all the powder which hefired away to enforce his signals. There certainly was a faultsomewhere.

  During the passage, which lasted seven weeks, Newton had ampleopportunity of ascertaining his situation. The master invariablytreated him with kindness and consideration; and before the voyage wascompleted, he treated him as if he were his own son. Jackson lost noopportunity of annoying or insulting him; but the support of his patronindemnified Newton for the conduct of the first-mate, and he resolved totake no notice of that which could not well be prevented. On theirarrival at Barbadoes, Mr Berecroft went on shore to the house of theconsignee; and then it was that the malignity of Jackson broke out inall its violence.

  The brig had discharged her cargo, and was lying in Carlisle Bay,waiting for the sugars which were to be shipped for Liverpool. Onemorning, when Newton, who for some time had submitted to the tyranny ofJackson without complaint, was standing at the main hatchway, givingdirections to the men below, who were arranging the dunnage at thebottom of the vessel, the first-mate came on deck, and, watching hisopportunity, staggered, with a rope in his hand, against Newton, as ifby accident, so as to throw him over the coombings. Newton, who wouldhave immediately fallen to the bottom of the hold upon the ballast, atthe risk of his life suddenly seized hold of the first-mate, not insufficient time to recover his own balance, but so firmly as to dragJackson with him; and down they were both precipitated together. Thefirst-mate, having hold of one of the ropes leading down the main-mast,clung fast to save himself, and in so doing also broke the fall ofNewton; but the weight of their bodies dragged the rope throughJackson's hands, which were lacerated to the bone. Neither party weremuch hurt by the fall; so that the treachery of Jackson recoiled uponhimself.

  After this specimen of animosity, which was duly reported to MrBerecroft, on his return on board, by the seamen, who detested Jackson,and any thing like foul play, his protector determined that Newtonshould no longer be subjected to further violence. At the request ofMr Berecroft, Newton was invited to stay at the house of Mr Kingston,the gentleman to whom the vessel had been consigned--an offer which wasgladly accepted.

  Newton had not been many days on shore, when Mr Kingston, who had takena strong interest in him, proposed, in answer to his many questionsrelative to the slave trade, that they should make a party to visit aplantation, the proprietor of which had been a resident since his youth,and judge for himself as to the truth of the reports so industriouslycirculated by those who were so inimical to the employment of a slavepopulation.