CHAPTER TWENTY.
This chair shall be my state, this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown.
HENRY IV. PART I.
We must now descend to the steerage, where our hero is seated in theberth, in company with a dozen more (as they designated themselves, fromthe extreme heat of their domicile) _perspiring_ young heroes, who wereamusing themselves with crunching hard biscuits, and at the same time adue proportion of those little animals of the scaribee tribe,denominated weevils, who had located themselves in the _unleavenedbread_, and which the midshipmen declared to be the only fresh meatwhich they had tasted for some time.
Captain M---'s character stood so high at the Admiralty, that the majorpart of the young _aspirants_ who had been committed to his charge wereof good family and connections. At that time few of the aristocracy orgentry ventured to send their sons into the navy; whereas, at present,none but those classes can obtain admission.
A better school for training young officers could not have beenselected; and the midshipmen's berth of the _Aspasia_ was as superior tothose in other ships, as Captain M--- was himself to the generality ofhis contemporary captains in the service. But I cannot pay these youngmen the compliment to introduce them one by one, as I did the gun-roomofficers. It would be an anomaly unheard of. I shall, therefore, withevery respect for them, describe them just as I want them. It was onebell after eight o'clock--a bottle of ship's rum, a black jack of putridwater, and a tin bread-basket, are on the table, which is lighted with atallow candle of about thirteen to the pound.
"I say, Mr Jerry Sneak, what are you after there--what are you foragingfor in that locker?" said one of the oldsters of the berth to ahalf-starved, weak-looking object of a youngster, whose friends had senthim to sea with the hopes of improving his stamina.
"What for?--why, for my supper if you must know. D'ye think I _look toofat_? I stowed it away before I went on deck, that it might not fallinto your ravenous maw."
"Mind your stops, my Jack of the Bonehouse, or I shall shy a biscuit atyour head."
"Do, and prove your bravery; it will be so very courageous. I supposeyou will expect to be gazetted for it."
The youngster who had been dignified with the above sobriquet, and whomade these replies, was certainly a most miserable-looking object, andlooked as if a top-gallant breeze would have blown him to atoms. But ifhis body was weak, his tongue was most powerful. He resorted to noother weapon, and used that skilfully. He was a species of Thersites,and no dread of punishment could control his railing. He offered noresistance, but bent down like the reed, and resumed his former positionas soon as the storm was over. His keen and sarcastic remarks, althoughthey occasionally subjected him to chastisement, to a certain degreeserved him as a defence, for he could always raise a laugh at theexpense of the individual whom he attacked, with the formidable weaponwhich he had inherited direct from his mother.
The oldster before mentioned put his hand into the breadbasket, andseized a handful of the biscuit. "Now I'll bet you a glass of grog thatyou don't throw a biscuit at my head," cried Jerry, with a sneer.
"Done," replied the oldster, throwing the contents of his hand at Jerrywith all his force.
"I'll just trouble you for that glass of grog, for you've lost," saidthe youngster, taking it up from the table where it stood, before theoldster; "you've only thrown some pieces, and not a biscuit;" andfollowing up his words with deeds, he swallowed down the whole contentsof the tumbler, which he replaced very coolly before his opponent.
"Fair bet, and fairly lost," cried the rest of the berth, laughing.
"You scarecrow! you're not worth thrashing," said the oldster, angrily.
"Why, that's exactly what I have been trying to impress upon your memoryever since I have joined the ship. There's no credit to be gained bylicking a half-starved wretch like I am; but there's Bruce, now,"(pointing to one of the oldsters, between whom and his opponent ajealousy subsisted), "why don't you lick him? There would be somecredit in that. But you know better than to try it."
"Do I?" retorted the oldster, forgetting himself in the heat of themoment.
"Yes, you do," replied Bruce, jumping up in defiance; and there wasevery appearance of a disturbance, much to the delight of Jerry, who,provided that they fought, was quite indifferent which party was thevictor. But a fortunate interruption took place, by the appearance ofthe master-at-arms.
"Nine o'clock, gentlemen, if you please--the lights must be put out."
"Very well, master-at-arms," replied one of the oldsters.
The master-at-arms took his seat on a chest close to the door of theberth, aware that a second summons, if not a third, would be requisite,before his object was obtained. In a few minutes he again put his headinto the berth. "Nine o'clock, gentlemen, if you please. I must reportyou to the first-lieutenant."
"Very well, Byfield--it shall be out in a minute."
The master-at-arms resumes his station on the chest outside.
"Why, it's Saturday night," cried Bruce. "Sweethearts and wives, myboys, though I believe none of us are troubled with the latter.Forster, pass the rum."
"I'll pass the bottle, and you may make a bull of it, if you choose."
"Confound it, no more grog--and Saturday night. I must drink `Auld langsyne,' by Heavens."
The master-at-arms again made his appearance. "Gentlemen, you must putthe light out."
"Stop one minute, Byfield. Let us see whether we can get any more rum."
The excuse appeared reasonable to the jack in office, and hedisappeared.
"Boy, tell Billy Pitt I want him."
Billy Pitt had turned in, but was soon roused out of his hammock, andmade his appearance at the berth door, with only his shirt on that hewas sleeping in.
"You want me, Massa Bruce?"
"Billy, my beau, you know everything. We sent for you to tell us what'sthe meaning of a repartee?"
"Repartee, sir--repartee!--stop a bit--Eh--I tell you, sir. Suppose youcall me dam nigger--then I call you one dam dirty white-livered son of ab---; dat a repartee, sir."
"Capital, Billy--you shall be a bishop. But Billy, has your master gotany rum in his cabin?"
"Which massa, sir? Massa Courtenay, or Massa Doctor?"
"Oh! Courtenay, to be sure. The surgeon never has any."
"Yes, sar, I tink he have a little."
"Be quick, Billy; and fetch it. I will give it you back at the tubto-morrow."
"Suppose you forget, sar, you put me in very fine _predicalament_.Massa Courtenay look dam blue--no, he not look blue, but he look damyellow," replied Billy, showing his white teeth as he grinned.
"But I won't forget, Billy, upon my honour."
"Well, honour quite enough between two gentlemen. I go fetch thebottle."
Billy soon reappeared with a quart bottle of rum, just as three bellswere struck. "By gad, I rattle the bottle as I take him out--wake MrCourtenay--he say, dam black fellow he make everything adrift--cursedannoying, he say, and go to sleep again."
"Really, gentlemen, I cannot wait any longer," resumed themaster-at-arms; "the lights must be reported or I shall be in disgrace."
"Very true, Byfield; you are only doing your duty. Will you take aglass of grog?"
"If you please," replied Mr Byfield, taking off his hat, "Your health,gentlemen."
"Thank you," replied the midshipmen.
"Tank you, SIR," replied also Billy Pitt.
"Well, Billy. What's the last word you read in your dictionary?"
"Last word? Let me see--Oh! commission, sar. You know dat word?"
"Commission! We all know what that is, Billy, and shall be glad to getit too, by-and-bye."
"Yes, sar; but there are two kind of commission. One you want, obligedto wait for; one I want, always have at once,--commission as agent,sar."
"Oh, I understand," replied Bruce; "five per cent on the bottle, eh?"
"Five per cent not make a tiff glass of grog, Massa Bruc
e."
"Well, then, Billy, you shall have ten per cent," replied themidshipman, pouring him out a _north-wester_. "Will that do?"
The black had the politeness to drink the health of all the gentlemen ofthe berth separately, before he poured the liquor down his throat."Massa Bruce, I tink doctor got a little rum in his cabin."
"Go and fetch it, Billy; you shall have it back to-morrow."
"Honour, Mr Bruce."
"Honour, Mr Pitt."
"Ten per cent, Massa Bruce," continued Billy, grinning.
"Ten per cent is the bargain."
"I go see."
Another quart bottle made its appearance; and the agent having receivedhis commission, made his bow, and returned to his hammock.
"I do--really--think--upon--my--word--that that--black--scoundrel--would--sell--his--own--mother--for--a--stiff--glass--of--grog," observeda youngster, of the name of Prose, a cockney, who drawled out his words,which, "like a wounded snake, dragged their slow length along."
"The lights, gentlemen, if you please," resumed the master-at-arms,putting his head again into the door.
"Another commission," said Jerry: "a tax upon light. Billy Pitt has thebest right to it."
A second glass of grog was poured out, and the bribe disappeared downMr Byfield's gullet.
"Now we'll put the light out," said one of the oldsters, covering thecandlestick with a hat.
"If you will put your candle into my lantern," observed the obsequiousmaster-at-arms, "I can then report the lights out. Of course you willallow it to remain there?"
The suggestion was adopted; and the light was reported _out_ to thefirst-lieutenant, at the very moment that it was taken _out_ of thelantern again, and replaced in the candlestick. The duplicate supplybegan to have its effect upon our incipient heroes, who commencedtalking _of their friends_. Bruce, a fine manly, honourable Scotchman,had the peculiarity of always allying himself, when half drunk, to theroyal house who formerly sat upon the throne of England; but, when quiteintoxicated, he was so treasonable as to declare himself the lawful Kingof Great Britain. Glass after glass increased his propinquity to thethrone, till at last he seated himself on it, and the uproar of thewhole party rose to that height, that the first-lieutenant sent out,desiring the midshipmen immediately to retire to their hammocks.
"Send me to bed! `Proud man, dressed in a little brief authority.' Ifthe Lord's anointed had been respected, he, with millions, would be nowbending the knee to me. Well, if I can't be King of all England, atleast I'll be king in this berth. Tell me," cried Bruce, seizing theunfortunate Prose by the collar, "am I not king?"
"Why--according--to--the--best--of--my--belief," said Prose, "I--should--rather--be--inclined--to--think--that--you are--not--the--king."
"Am not, base slave!" cried Bruce, throwing him on the deck, and puttinghis foot on his chest.
"No--if--I die for it--I don't care--but if you are--not king--I mustown--that--you--are one of--my thirty tyrants," drawled out Prose, halfsuffocated with the pressure.
"I--do--declare," cried Jerry, imitating Prose's drawl, "that--he--has--squeezed--a pun--out--of--you."
"Am not I king?" resumed Bruce, seizing Jerry, who had advanced withinreach, to laugh at Prose.
"I feel that you ought to be," replied Jerry: "and I don't doubt yourlineal descent: for you have all the dispositions of the race from whichyou claim descent. A boon, your gracious majesty," continued Jerry,bending on one knee.
"Thou shalt have it, my loyal subject," replied Bruce, who was delightedwith the homage, "even (as Ahasuerus said to Esther) to the half of mykingdom."
"God forbid that I should deprive your majesty of that," replied Jerry,smiling at the idea of _halving nothing_. "It is only to request that Imay not keep the middle watch to-night."
"Rise, Jerry, you shall not keep a night-watch for a fortnight."
"I humbly thank your most gracious majesty," replied the astute boy, whowas a youngster of the watch of which Bruce was mate.
As the reader may be amused with the result of this promise, he mustknow, that Bruce, who did not recollect what had passed, when heperceived Jerry not to be on deck, sent down for him. The youngster, onhis appearance, claimed his promise; and his claim was allowed by Bruce,rather than he would acknowledge himself to have been intoxicated.Jerry, upon the strength of the agreement, continued, for more than theprescribed time, to sleep in every night-watch, until, aware that he wasno longer safe, he thought of an expedient which would probably insurehim one night longer, and prevent a disagreeable interruption of hisdreams. Prose, whose hammock was hung up next the hatchway, had a badcold, and Jerry thought it prudent to shift his berth, that he might notbe found.
"It's the draught from the hatchway that makes your cold so bad, Prose;you'll never get well while you sleep there. I will give you my insideberth until it is better--'tis really quite distressing to hear youcough."
"Well, now, Jerry, that's what I call very good-natured of you. I havenot had such a friendly act done towards me since I joined the ship, andI do assure you, Jerry, that I shall not be ungrateful--I shall notforget it."
It happened that, on the very night that Prose exchanged berths withJerry, Bruce made his calculation that the fortnight had elapsed threedays back: and although he felt himself bound in honour to keep hispromise, yet feeling rather sore at being over-reached, he now orderedthe quarter-master to cut Jerry's hammock down by the head. This wassupposed to be done, and poor Prose, who had just fallen asleep afterkeeping the previous watch, awoke with a stunning sensation, and foundhis feet up at the beams and his head on the deck; while Jerry, who hadbeen awakened by the noise, was obliged to cram the sheets into hismouth, that his laughter might be unperceived.
"Well, now, I do declare, this is too bad--I most certainly willcomplain to the captain, to-morrow morning--as sure as my name is Prose.Sentry, bring me a light, and assist me to get my hammock up again--Iwill not put up with this treatment--I do declare;" and so saying, Proseonce more resumed his position in his precarious dormitory.
But, during our digression, the berth has become empty--some walking,and others, particularly his majesty, reeling to bed. So we shall closethis chapter, from which the reader may perceive, that, even in thebest-regulated ships, there is more going on in a midshipmen's berththan a captain is acquainted with, or that comes between Heaven and hisphilosophy.