The King's Own Part 31
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But Captain Bradshaw was not naturally tyrannical: he had become so, because, promoted at an early age, he had never been afterwards opposed; no one contradicted him; every one applauded his jokes, and magnified his mirth into wit. He would try by a court-martial an officer who had committed a slight error, and on the same day would open his purse and extend his patronage to another whom he knew not, but had been informed that he was deserving, and had no friends. To his seamen he was as lavish with his money as he was with the cat. He would give a man a new jacket one day, and cut it to pieces on his back with a rope's end on the next. Yet it was not exactly inconsistency--it was an eccentricity of character--not natural, but created by the service. The graft was of a worse quality than the parent stock, and the fruit was a compound of the two. The sailors, who are of the most forgiving temper in the world, and will pardon a hundred faults for one redeeming quality, declared that "he warn't a bad captain after all."
His violent and tyrannical disposition made him constantly at variance with his officers, and continual changes took place in his s.h.i.+p; but it was observed, that those who had left him from a spirited resistance were kindly received, and benefited by his patronage, while those who submitted were neglected. Like a pretty but clever woman, who is aware that flattery is to be despised, and yet, from habit, cannot exist without it so Captain Bradshaw exacted the servility which he had been accustomed to, yet rewarded not those by whom it was administered. All the mids.h.i.+pmen promoted on the station had to pa.s.s through the ordeal of sailing with Captain Bradshaw, who generally had a vacancy; and it certainly had a good effect upon those young men who were inclined to presume upon their newly acquired rank: for they were well schooled before they quitted his s.h.i.+p.
When Courtenay and his party went on board of the frigate, the first-lieutenant, master, and surgeon, indignant at language which had been used to them by the captain, refused to dine in the cabin, when they were invited by the steward, who reported to Captain Bradshaw that the officers would not accept his invitation.
"Won't they, by G.o.d? I'll see to that. Send my clerk here."
The clerk made his appearance, with an abject bow.
"Mr Powell, sit down, and write as I dictate," said Captain Bradshaw, who, walking up and down the fore-cabin, composed a memorandum, in which, after a long preamble, the first-lieutenant, master, and surgeon, were directed to dine with him every day, until further orders. Captain Bradshaw, having signed it, sent for the first-lieutenant, and delivered it himself into his hands.
"Ferguson!--Bradly!" cried the first-lieutenant, entering the gun-room, with the paper in his hand, "here's something for all three of us,--a positive order to dine with the skipper every day, until he gets tired of our company."
"I'll be hanged if I do," replied the surgeon. "I'll put myself in the sick-list."
"And if I am obliged to go, I'll not touch anything," rejoined the master. "There's an old proverb, 'you may lead a horse to the pond, but you can't make him drink.'"
"Whatever we do," replied Roberts, the first-lieutenant, "we must act in concert; but I have been long enough in the service to know that we must obey first, and remonstrate afterwards. That this is an unusual order, I grant, nor do I know by what regulations of the service it can be enforced; but at the same time I consider that we run a great risk in refusing to obey it. Only observe, in the preamble, how artfully he inserts 'appearance of a conspiracy, tending to bring him into contempt;' and again, 'for the better discipline of his Majesty's service, which must invariably suffer when there is an appearance of want of cordiality between those to whom the men must look for example.'
Upon my soul, he's devilish clever. I do believe he'd find out a reason for drawing out all our double teeth, if he was inclined, and prove it was all for the benefit of his Majesty's service. Well, now, what's to be done?"
"Why, what's your opinion, Roberts?"
"Oh, mine is to go; and if you will act with me, he won't allow us to dine with him a second time."
"Well, then, I agree," replied the surgeon.
"And so must I, then, I presume; but, by heavens, downright tyranny and oppression."
"Never mind; listen to me. Let's all go, and all behave as ill as we can--be as unmannerly as bears--abuse everything--be as familiar as possible, and laugh in his face. He cannot touch us for it, if we do not go too far--and he'll not trouble us to come a second time."
Their plans were arranged; and at three o'clock they were ushered into the cabin, with one of the mids.h.i.+pmen of the s.h.i.+p, and Jerry, who, as a stranger, had been honoured with an invitation. Captain Bradshaw, whose property was equal to his liberality, piqued himself upon keeping a good table; his cook was an _artiste_, and his wines were of the very best quality. After all, there was no great hards.h.i.+p in dining with him-- but, "upon compulsion!"--No. The officers bowed. The captain, satisfied with their obedience, intended, although he had brought them there by force, to do the honours of his table with the greatest urbanity.
"Roberts," said he, "do me the favour to take the foot of the table.-- Doctor, here's a chair for you.--Mr Bradly, come round on this side.
Now, then, steward, off covers, and let us see what you have for us.
Why, youngster, does your captain starve you?"
"No, sir," replied Jerry, who knew what was going on; "but he don't give me a dinner every day."
"Humph!" muttered the captain, who thought Mr Jerry very free upon so short an acquaintance.
The soup was handed round; the first spoonful that Roberts took in his mouth, he threw out on the snow-white deck, crying out, as soon as his mouth was empty, "O Lord!"
"Why, what's the matter?" inquired the captain.
"So cursed hot, I've burnt my tongue."
"Oh, that's all?--steward, wipe up that mess," said the captain, who was rather nice in his eating.
"Do you know Jemmy Cavan, sir, at Barbadoes?" inquired the doctor.
"No, sir, I know no Jemmies," replied Captain Bradshaw, surprised at his familiar address.
"He's a devilish good fellow, sir, I can tell you. When he gets you on sh.o.r.e, he'll make you dine with him every day, whether or not. He'll take no denial."
"Now, that's what I call a d.a.m.ned good fellow: you don't often meet a chap like him," observed the master.
Captain Bradshaw felt that he was indirectly called a _chap_, which did not please him.
"Mr Bradly, will you take some mutton?"
"If you please," said the master.
"Roberts, I'll trouble you to carve the saddle of mutton."
The first-lieutenant cut out a slice, and taking it on the fork, looked at it suspiciously, and then held his nose over it.
"Why, what's the matter?"
"Rather high, sir, I'm afraid."
"Oh, I smell it here," said Jerry, who entered into the joke.
"Indeed! Steward, remove that dish; fortunately, it is not all our dinner. What will you take, Mr Bradly?"
"Why, really, I seldom touch anything but the joint. I hate your kickshaws, there's so much pawing about them. I'll wait, if you please; in the meantime, I'll drink a gla.s.s of wine with you, Captain Bradshaw."
"The devil you will!" was nearly out of the captain's mouth, at this reversal of the order of things; but he swallowed it down, and answered, in a surly tone, "With great pleasure, sir."
"Come, doctor, let you and I hob and n.o.b," said the first-lieutenant.
They did so, and clicked their gla.s.ses together with such force as to break them both, and spill the wine upon the fine damask table-cloth.
Jerry could contain himself no longer, but burst out into a roar of laughter, to the astonishment of Captain Bradshaw, who never had seen a mids.h.i.+pman thus conduct himself at his table before: but Jerry could not restrain his inclination for joining with the party, although he had no excuse for _his_ behaviour.
"Bring some wine-gla.s.ses, steward; and you'll excuse me, gentlemen, but I will thank you not to try the strength of them again," said Captain Bradshaw, with a very majestic air.
"Now, Mr Ferguson, I shall be happy to take a gla.s.s of wine with you.
What will you have? There's sherry and Moselle."
"I prefer champagne, if you please," answered the surgeon, who knew that Captain Bradshaw did not produce it except when strangers were at the table.
Captain Bradshaw restrained his indignation, and ordered champagne to be brought.
"I'll join you," cried the first-lieutenant, shoving in his gla.s.s.
"Come, younker, let you and I have a gla.s.s cosy together," said Jerry to the mids.h.i.+pman, who, frightened at what was going on, moved his chair a little further from Jerry, and then looked first at him and then at the captain.
"Oh, pray take a gla.s.s with the young gentleman," said Captain Bradshaw, with mock politeness.
"Come, steward, none of your half allowance, if you please," continued the impertinent Jerry. "Now, then, my c.o.c.k, here's _towards_ you, and 'better luck still.'"
The King's Own Part 31
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The King's Own Part 31 summary
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