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Peter Simple

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<h3>Chapter Fifty Two.</h3> <h4>Good sense in Swinburne—No man a hero to his “valet de chambre,” or a prophet in his own country—O’Brien takes a step by strategy—O’Brien parts with his friend, and Peter’s star is no longer in the ascendant.</h4> O’Brien was sorry for the death of his father, but he could not feel as most people would have done, as his father had certainly never been a father to him. He was sent to sea to be got rid of, and ever since he had been there had been the chief support of his family: his father was very fond of whisky, and not very fond of exertion. He was too proud of the true Milesian blood in his veins, to do anything to support himself; but not too proud to live upon his son’s hard-earned gains. For his mother O’Brien felt very much; she had always been kind and affectionate, and was very fond of him. Sailors, however, are so estranged from their families, when they have been long in their profession, and so accustomed to vicissitudes, that no grief for the loss of a relation lasts very long, and, in a week, O’Brien had recovered his usual spirits, when a vessel brought us the intelligence that a French squadron had been seen off St. Domingo. This put us all on the qui vive. O’Brien was sent for by the admiral, and ordered to hasten his brig for sea with all possible despatch, as he was to proceed with despatches to England forthwith. In three days we were reported ready, received our orders, and at eight o’clock in the evening made sail from Carlisle Bay. “Well, Mr Swinburne,” said I, “how do you like your new situation?” “Why, Mr Simple, I like it well enough, and it’s not disagreeable to be an officer, and sit in your own cabin; but still, I feel that I should get on better, if I were in another ship. I’ve been hail fellow well met with the ship’s company so long, that I can’t top the officer over them, and we can’t get the duty done as smart as I could wish; and then, at night, I find it very lonely, stuck up in my cabin like a parson’s clerk, and nobody to talk to; for the other warrants are particular, and say that I’m only acting, and may not be confirmed, so they hold aloof. I don’t much like being answerable for all that lot of gunpowder—it’s queer stuff to handle.” “Very true, Swinburne; but still, if there were no responsibility, we should require no officers. You recollect that you are now provided for for life, and will have half-pay.” “That’s what made me bite, Mr Simple; I thought of the old woman, and how comfortable it would make her in her old age, and so, d’ye see, I sacrificed myself.” “How long have you been married, Swinburne?” “Ever since Christmas ’94. I wasn’t going to be hook’d carelessly, so I nibbled afore I took the bait. Had four years’ trial of her first, and finding that she had plenty of ballast, I sailed her as my own.” “How do you mean by plenty of ballast?” “I don’t mean, Mr Simple, a broad bow and square hulk. You know very well that if a vessel has not ballast, she’s bottom up in no time. Now, what keeps a woman stiff under her canvas is her modesty.” “Very true. Swinburne; but it’s a rare commodity on the beach.” “And why, Mr Simple? because liquor is more valued. Many a good man has found it to be his bane; and as for a woman, when once she takes to it, she’s like a ship without a rudder, and goes right before the wind to the devil. Not that I think a man ought not to take a nor-wester or two, when he can get them. Rum was not given by God Almighty only to make the niggers dance, but to make all our hearts glad; neither do I see why a woman is to stand out neither; what’s good for Jack can’t hurt Poll; only there is a medium, as they say, in all things, and half-and-half is quite strong enough.” “I should think it was,” replied I, laughing. “But don’t be letting me prevent you from keeping a look-out, Mr Simple.—You Hoskins, you’re half a point off the wind. Luff you may.—I think, Mr Simple, that Captain O’Brien didn’t pick out the best man, when he made Tom Alsop a quarter-master in my place.” “Why, he is a very steady, good man, Swinburne.” “Yes, so he is; but he has natural defects, which shouldn’t be overlooked.” “I was not aware of that.” “No, but I was. Alsop wants to sarve out his time for his pension, and when he has sarved, you see if, when the surgeons examine him, they don’t invalid him, as blind as a bat. I should like to have him as gunner’s mate, and that’s just what he’s fit for. But, Mr Simple, I think we shall have some bad weather. The moon looks greasy, and the stars want snuffing. You’ll have two reefs in the topsails afore morning. There’s five bells striking. Now, I’ll turn in; if I didn’t keep half the first, and half the morning watch, I shouldn’t sleep all the night. I miss my regular watch very much, Mr Simple—habit’s every thing—and I don’t much fancy a standing bed-place, it’s so large, and I feel so cold of my sides. Nothing like a hammock, after all. Good night, Mr Simple.” “Good night. Swinburne.” Our orders were to proceed with all possible despatch; and O’Brien carried on day and night, generally remaining up himself till one or two o’clock in the morning. We had very favourable weather, and in a little more than a month we passed the Lizard. The wind being fair, we passed Plymouth, ran up Channel, and anchored at Spithead. After calling upon the admiral, O’Brien set off for town with his despatches, and left me in command of the ship. In three days, I received a letter from him, informing me that he had seen the First Lord, who had asked him a great many questions concerning the station he had quitted; that he had also complimented O’Brien on his services. “On that hint I spake,” continued O’Brien; “I ventured to insinuate to his lordship, that I had hoped that I had earned my promotion; and as there is nothing like quartering on the enemy, I observed that I had not applied to Lord Privilege, as I considered my services would have been sufficient, without any application on his part. His lordship returned a very gracious answer; said that my Lord Privilege was a great ally of his and very friendly to the Government; and inquired when I was going to see him. I replied, that I certainly should not pay my respects to his lordship at present, unless there was occasion for it, as I must take a more favourable opportunity. So I hope that good may come from the great lord’s error, which of course I shall not correct, as I feel I deserve my promotion—and you know, Peter, if you can’t gain it by hook, you must by crook.” He then concluded his letter; but there was a postscript as follows:— “Wish me joy, my dear Peter. I have this moment received a letter from the private secretary, to say that I am posted and appointed to the Semiramis frigate, about to set sail for the East Indies. She is all ready to start; and now I must try and get you with me, of which I have no doubt; as, although her officers have been long appointed, there will be little difficulty of success, when I mention your relationship to Lord Privilege, and while they remain in error as to his taking an interest in my behalf.” I sincerely rejoiced at O’Brien’s good fortune. His promotion I had considered certain, as his services had entitled him to it: but the command of so fine a frigate must have been given upon the supposition that it would be agreeable to my uncle, who was not only a prime supporter, but a very useful member of the Tory government. I could not help laughing to myself, at the idea of O’Brien obtaining his wishes from the influence of a person who, probably, detested him as much as one man could detest another; and I impatiently waited for O’Brien’s next letter, by which I hoped to find myself appointed to the Semiramis; but a sad contre temps took place. O’Brien did not write; but came down two days afterwards, hastened on board the Semiramis, read his commission, and assumed the command before even he had seen me: he then sent his gig on board of the Rattlesnake, to desire me to come to him directly. I did so, and we went down into the cabin of the frigate. “Peter,” said he, “I was obliged to hasten down and read myself captain of this ship, as I am in fear that things are not going on well. I had called to pay my respects at the Admiralty, previous to joining, and was kicking my heels in the waiting-room, when who should walk up the passage, as if he were a captain on his own quarter-deck, but your uncle, Lord Privilege. His eye met mine—he recognised me immediately—and, if it did not flash fire, it did something very like it. He asked a few questions of one of the porters, and was giving his card, when my name was called for. I passed him, and up I went to the First Lord, thanked him for the frigate; and having received a great many compliments upon my exertions on the West India station, made my bow and retired. I had intended to have requested your appointment, but I knew that your name would bring up Lord Privilege’s; and, moreover, your uncle’s card was brought up and laid upon the table while I was sitting there. The First Lord, I presume, thought that his lordship was come to thank him for his kindness to me, which only made him more civil. I made my bow, and went down, and met the eye of Lord Privilege, who looked daggers at me as he walked upstairs—for, of course, he was admitted immediately after my audience was finished. Instead of waiting to hear the result of the explanation, I took a post-chaise, and have come down here as fast as four horses can bring me, and have read myself in—for, Peter, I feel sure, that if not on board, my commission will be cancelled; and I know that if once in command, as I am now, I can call for a court-martial, to clear my character if I am superseded. I know that the Admiralty can do anything, but still they will be cautious in departing from the rules of the service, to please even Lord Privilege. I looked up at the sky as soon as I left the Admiralty portico, and was glad to see that the weather was so thick, and the telegraph not at work, or I might have been too late. Now I’ll go on shore, and report myself to the admiral, as having taken the command of the Semiramis.” O’Brien went on shore to report himself, was well received by the admiral, who informed him, that if he had any arrangements to make, he could not be too soon, as he should not be surprised if his sailing orders came down the next morning. This was very annoying, as I could not see how I should be able to join O’Brien’s ship, even if I could effect an exchange, in so short a time. I therefore hastened on board of the Semiramis and applied to the officers to know if any of them were willing to exchange into the Rattlesnake; but although they did not much like going to the East Indies, they would not exchange into a brig, and I returned disappointed. The next morning, the admiral sent for O’Brien, and told him confidentially, for he was the same admiral who had received O’Brien when he escaped from prison with me, and was very kind to him, that there was some hitch about his having the Semiramis, and that orders had come down to pay her off, all standing, and examine her bottom, if Captain O’Brien had not joined her. “Do you understand what this means?” said the admiral, who was anxious to know the reason. O’Brien answered frankly, that Lord Privilege, by whose interest he had obtained his former command, was displeased with him; and that as he saw him go up to the First Lord after his own audience, he had no doubt but that his lordship had said something to his disadvantage, as he was a very vindictive man. “Well,” said the admiral, “it’s lucky that you have taken the command, as they cannot well displace you, or send her into dock without a survey, and upon your representation.” And so it proved; the First Lord, when he found that O’Brien had joined, took no further steps, but allowed the frigate to proceed to her intended destination. But all chance of my sailing with him was done away, and now, for the first time, I had to part with O’Brien. I remained with him the whole time that I could be spared from my duties. O’Brien was very much annoyed, but there was no help. “Never mind, Peter,” said he, “I’ve been thinking that perhaps it’s all for the best. You will see more of the world, and be no longer in leading-strings. You are now a fine man grown up, big enough, and ugly enough, as they say, to take care of yourself. We shall meet again; and if we don’t, why then God bless you, my boy, and don’t forget O’Brien.” Three days afterwards, O’Brien’s orders came down. I accompanied him on board; and it was not until the ship was under weigh, and running towards the Needles with a fair wind, that I shook hands with him, and shoved off. Parting with O’Brien was a heavy blow to me; but I little knew how much I was to suffer before I saw him again. <hr></div> <div class="bodytext"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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