The English Spy Part 53

PORTSMOUTH IN TIME OF PEACE.

~180~~

Where now are the frolicsome care-killing souls, With their girls and their fiddlers, their dances and bowls?

Where now are the blue jackets, once on our sh.o.r.e The promoters of merriment, spending their store?

Where now are our tars in these dull piping times?

Laid up like old hulks, or enlisted in climes Where the struggle for liberty calls on the brave, The Peruvians, the Greeks, or Brazilians to save From the yoke of oppression--there, Britons are found Dealing death and destruction to tyrants around; For wherever our tars rear the banner of fame, They are still the victorious sons of the main.

A Trip to Portsmouth on board the Medina Steam-Boat--The Change from War to Peace--Its Consequences--The Portsmouth Greys--The Man of War's Man--Tom Tackle and his s.h.i.+pmate-- Lamentation of a Tar--The Hero Cochrane--An old Acquaintance--Reminiscences of the past--Sketches of Point- Street and Gosport Beach--Naval Anecdotes--"A Man's like a s.h.i.+p on the Ocean of Life."

"Bear a hand, old fellow!" said Horace Eglantine one morning, coming down the companion hatchway of the Rover: "if you have any mind for a land-cruise, let us make Portsmouth to-day on board the steamer, while our yacht goes up the harbour to get her copper polished and her rigging overhauled." In earlier days, while yet the light-heartedness of youth ~181~~and active curiosity excited my boyish spirit, I had visited Portsmouth, and the recollection of the scenes I then witnessed was still fresh upon my memory. The olive-branch of peace now waved over the land of my fathers; and while the internal state of the country, benefited by its healing balm, flourished, revived, invigorated and prosperous, Portsmouth and Gosport, and such like sea-ports, were almost deserted, and the active bustle and variety which but now reigned among their inhabitants had given way to desolation and abandonment: at least such was the account I had received from recent visitors. I was, therefore, anxious from observation to compare the present with the past; and, with this view, readily met the invitation of my friend Horace Eglantine. The voyage from Cowes to Portsmouth on board the steam-boat, performed, as it now is, with certainty, in about an hour and a half, is a delightful excursion; and the appearance of the entrance to the harbour from sea, a most picturesque and imposing scene.

The fortifications, which are considered the most complete in the world, stretching from east to west, on either side command the sea far as the cannons' power can reach. Nor is the harbour less attractive, flanked on each side by the towns of Gosport and Portsmouth, and filled with every description of vessel from the flag-s.h.i.+p of England's immortal hero, Nelson, which is here moored in the centre, a monument of past glory, to the small craft of the trader, and the more humble ferry-boat of the incessant applicant, who plys the pa.s.senger with his eternal note of "Common Hard, your honour."

One of my companions on board the Medina was an old man of war's man, whose visage, something of the colour and hardness of dried salmon, sufficiently indicated that the possessor had weathered many a trying gale, and was familiar with all the vicissitudes of the mighty deep.

With the habitual roughness of ~182~~his manners was combined a singular degree of intelligence, and he evinced a disposition to be communicative, of which I found it very agreeable to avail myself. On approaching the harbour, my attention was arrested by the sight of a number of boats rowed by men arrayed in a grotesque uniform of speckled jackets, whose freights, to judge from appearances, must have been of no common weight, as the rowers seemed compelled to use a degree of exertion little inferior to that employed by galley-slaves. I inquired of my nautical Mentor who these men were, and in what description of service they were occupied. "Them, master," replied he, releasing the quid from his mouth, and looking with his weather-eye unutterable things; "they are the _Portsmouth Greys_." My countenance spoke plainly enough that this reply had by no means made me _au fait_ to the subject of my question, and my informant accordingly proceeded--"s.h.i.+ver my timbers, mate, they are as rum a set, them boat's crews, as ever pulled an oar--chaps as the public keeps out of their own pocket for the public good; and it's been but just a slip, as one may say, between the cup and the lip, as has saved a good many on 'em from being run up to the yard-arm. Some on 'em forgot to return things as they _found_ rather too easy, and some, instead of writing their own name, _by mistake_ wrote somebody's else's; so government sent 'em here, at its own charge, to finish their _edication_. You see the _floating academy_ as is kept a purpose for 'em," said he, pointing to the receiving-hulk for the convicts at this station, which was lying in the harbour: "them as is rowing in the boats," added the talkative seaman, "has been a getting stones, and ballast, and such like, for the repairs of the harbour; they does all the rough and dirty jobs as is to be done about the works and place--indeed, we calls 'em the _Port Admiral's skippers_." I now fully understood the import of the term _Portsmouth Greys_, which had before been an enigma to ~183~~me; and comprehended that the unhappy beings before me were of

The ill-fated children of suff'ring and sin, With conscience reproaching and sorrow within; Bosoms that mis'ry and guilt could not sever, Hearts that were blighted and broken for ever: Where each, to some vice or vile pa.s.sion a slave, Shared the wreck of the mind, and the spirit's young grave.

Whose brief hist'ry of life, ere attain'd to its prime, Unfolded a volume of madness and crime, Such as leaves on the forehead of manhood a stain Which tears over shed seek to blot out in vain; A stain which as long as existence will last, Embitt'ring the future with thoughts of the past.

I might have indulged much longer in these reflections, but my musing mood was interrupted by the Medina reaching her destination, and we disembarked safely at Portsmouth Point.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page184]

On landing, the worthy veteran, who had, by his confabulation during the voyage, claimed, in his own opinion, a right of becoming my companion for a time, a privilege which, in such a scene, and at such a place, it will easily be believed I was not averse from granting him, proceeded along with me _carpere iter comites parati_, up Point Street, and at one of the turnings my friend made a sudden stop. "My eyes!" he exclaimed, "may I perish, but that is my old messmate, Tom Tackle. Many's the can of flip we've scuttled while on board the _Leander_ frigate together; and when we were obliged to part convoy and go on board different s.h.i.+ps, there was above a little matter of brine about both our eyes." At this moment Tom Tackle came up with us: the warmth of affection with which his old s.h.i.+pmate had spoken of him had interested me not a little in his favour, and his mutilated frame spoke volumes in behalf of the gallantry he had displayed in the service of his country. One eye was entirely ~184~~lost; one coat-sleeve hung armless by his side; and one vanished leg had its place superseded by a wooden subst.i.tute. I gazed upon the "unfortunate brave" with mingled pity and veneration; yet, so true is the observation of the ancient,

"_Res sunt humanae flobilo ludibrium_"

That is, human feelings and affairs are a singular compound of the ludicrous and the lamentable, that I could not avoid giving way to my mercurial disposition, and congratulating my fellow-voyager on the ease with which he had recognized his old comrade by his present remaining half. "Lord help your honour!" said he, "a seaman's weather-gauge is made for squalls--foul weather or fair--in stays or out of trim--sailing all right before the wind, or coming up under jury-masts; he's no tar that cannot make out an old friend at a cable's length, and bring to without waiting for signals of distress. s.h.i.+ver my timbers, if I should not know my old messmate here while there's a timber rib left in his hulk, or a shoulder-boom to hang a blue jacket on. But, my toplights, Tom!" continued he, "where's all the girls, and the tiddlers, and the Jews, and b.u.mboat-women that used to crowd all sail to pick up a spare hand ash.o.r.e? Not a shark have I seen in the harbour, and all the old grog-shops with their foul-weather battens up and colours half-mast."

"All in mourning for Mr. Nap, s.h.i.+pmate," said Tom; "we've had no fun here since they cooped him up on board the Bellerophon, and stowed him away at St. Helena. All the Jews have cut and run, and all the b.u.mboat-women retired upon their fortunes; the poor landlords are most of them in the bilboes at Winchester: and as for a pretty girl--whew!--not such an article to be had at Point now, either for love or money: and all this comes of the peace--s.h.i.+ver my odd forelight!

mate, if it lasts much longer, it will be the ruin of the navy.

~185~~~How I long to hear the sound of the boatswain's whistle once more! 'Up hammocks, boys--clear the decks, and prepare for action!

'that's the way to live and be merry; then the music of a good broadside pouring into an enemy's under-works, and cutting her slap in two between wind and water--that's glory, my christian! May I never taste grog again, if we are not all ruined by the peace. There's only one fighting fellow left of the old stock of commanders, and they have turned him out of the navy lest he should infect the psalm-singers. Look out a-head there, s.h.i.+pmate; d'ye see that fine frigate, the Peranga, now lying oft'

Spithead, and can you ever forget Basque Roads and the gallant Cochrane?

I just got a glimpse of his figure head t'other morning, coming up Point here; so I hauled to and threw my shattered hulk slap across his headway, lowering my top-gallants as I pa.s.sed round under his bows.

'Officer,' said he, 'you and I should know one another, methinks.'

'Success attend your honour,' said I; 'do you remember your master-gunner when you captured the Spanish galleon, who carried away a spar or two in the action?' 'What, Tom Tackier said he: 'Heaven help thee, lad! I'd give the bounty of a good boat's crew if I could put you into sailing-trim and commission again; but here, officer, is something to drink to old acquaintance with, and if you can find your way on board the Peranga to-morrow, I'll take care they don't throw you over the s.h.i.+p's side before you have had a skinfull of grog: 'so seizing fast hold of my single tin with both his grappling-irons, I thought he would have shook it out of the goose-neck at parting; and when I went on board next day, he treated me like a port-admiral, and sent me on sh.o.r.e with every cranny well-filled, from my beef-tub to my grog-bucket, and put a little more of the right sort o' stuff" in my jacket pockets to pay harbour dues with. That's the commander for me! And now I hear, after having taken ~186~~and destroyed all the Spanish king's navy, he's off to give the Grand Signor a taste of his quality. My forelights! how I should like to see him with his double rows of grinders wide open, bearing down upon a whole fleet of Mussulmen--there'd be weeping, and wailing, and gnas.h.i.+ng o' teeth among the Turks! I wouldn't give my wooden pin for the whole of the Grand Sultan's flotilla. But come, s.h.i.+pmate, may I never want 'bacca, if we don't drink his health, and that 'ere gemman you've taken in tow shall join us, if he likes." I was too much amused to desire to part company just yet, and the good-humoured tars perceiving my bent, linked themselves to each arm, and in this way, laughing at the curiosity we provoked, did our party reach the middle of Point-street, and brought ourselves to anchor under the head of old Admiral Benbow, where Tom a.s.sured us we should be supplied with the best of grog and s.h.i.+p-stores of the first quality.

Horace had proceeded to escort some ladies, whom he met with on board the steamboat, to the house of a friend in the High-street, where I had appointed to meet him in the s.p.a.ce of an hour. Sitting myself down therefore with my two jovial a.s.sociates, I determined to humour the frolic which had brought me into the society of such eccentric characters. "s.h.i.+ver my timbers! Jem," said the one-legged mariner, "but you never make any inquiries after Betsy Bluff, among your other old friends. It's true, the wench has got spliced again, to be sure; but then, you know, she waited three years, and had the log-books overhauled first." "Ay, ay, Tom, so they say she did; but I never believed 'em: howsomedever, that wasn't the worst of it; for having got my will and my power in her possession, she drew all my pay and prize-money, and when at last I got home from an enemy's keeping, I had not a shot left in the locker to keep myself. But the mischief did not end even there, for she disgraced me, ~187~~and the British flag, by marrying a half-starved tailor, and setting him up in the Sally port with the money that I had been fighting the enemies of my country for. May I never get groggy again, if I couldn't have forgiven her freely if she'd taken some honest-hearted fellow, like yourself, in tow, who had got disabled in the service, or consorted with a true man of war's man, all right and tight; but to go and lash herself alongside of such a crazy land lubber as this ninth degree of manhood--may I never taste 'bacca again if Bet's conduct is bearable! She's no wife of mine, Tom; and when I go to pieces, a wreck in this world, may I be bolted into old Belzy's caboose if she shall be a copper fastening the better for Jem Buntline!" During the recital of this story the countenance of the old tar a.s.sumed a fiery glow of honest indignation, and when he had finished the tale, his fore lights gave evident signs that his heart had been long beating about in stormy restlessness at the remembrance of his wife's unfaithfulness.

"Cheer up, messmate," said Tom; "I see how the land lies. Come, fill your pipe, and I'll sing you the old stave I used to chant on Sat.u.r.day nights, when we messed together on board the Leander.

A man's like a s.h.i.+p on the ocean of life, The sport both of fair and foul weather, Where storms of misfortune, and quicksands of strife, And clouds of adversity gather.

If he steers by the compa.s.s of honour, he'll find, No matter what lat.i.tude meets him, A welcome in every port to his mind, And a friend ever ready to greet him.

If love takes the helm in an amorous gale, Of the rocks of deception beware, Steer fairly for port, and let reason prevail, And you're thus sure to conquer the fair.

For the Bay of Deceit keep a steady look out, Steer clear of the shoals of distress,

~188~~

Yet ever be ready to tack and about When the black waves of misery press.

Like a vessel, digest out in all colours, d'ye see, Are the virtues and vices of life: Blue and red are the symbols of friends.h.i.+p and glee, White and black of ill-humour and strife.

True worth, like true honour, is born of no clime, But known by true courage and feeling, Where power and pity in unison chime, And the heart is above double dealing."

[Ill.u.s.tration: page189]

"Ay, Tom, now you're on the right tack--a good song, and a jovial friend, and let the marines blubber about love and lullaby, it'll never do for the sailors. As we are overhauling old friends, do you remember Charley Capstan, the c.o.xswain's mate of the Leander V "s.h.i.+ver my timbers, but I do; and a bit of tough yarn he was, too: hard as old junk without, and soft as captain's coop meat within. Wasn't I one of the crew that convoyed him up this very street when returning from a cruise off the Straits, we heard that Charley's old uncle had slipt his cable, and left him cash enough to buy out and build a s.h.i.+p of his own? That was a gala, messmate! There was Charley, a little fat porpoise, as round as a nine-pounder, mounted on an eighteen gallon cask of the real Jamaica, lashed to a couple of oars, and riding astride, on his messmates' shoulders, up to the Point. Then such a jolly boat's crew attended him, rigged out with bran new slops, and s.h.i.+ners on their topmasts, with the Leander painted in front, and half a dozen fiddlers sc.r.a.ping away 'Jack's alive,' and all the girls decked out in their dancing dresses, with streamers flying about their top-gallants, and loose nettings over their breastworks--that was a gala, messmate! And didn't Charley treat all Point to the play that night, and engage the whole of the gallery cabin for his own friends' accommodation; and when the reefers in the hold turned saucy, didn't you and two or three more ~189~~drop down upon 'em, and having shook the wind out of their sails, run up the main haliards again, without working round by the gangway?"

"Right, Tom, right; and don't you remember the illumination, when we stuck up ten pound of lighted candles round the rim of the gallery before the play began, and when Jane Sh.o.r.e was in the midst of her grief, Charley gave the signal, and away they went, like a file of marines from a double broadside, right and left, tumbling about the ears of the reefers and land lubbers in the chicken coops below? Those were the days of glory, messmate, when old Jack Junk, who had never seen a play before, took it all for right down arnest matter o' fact; and when poor Mrs. Sh.o.r.e came to ask charity of that false-hearted friend of hers, what was jealous of her, and fell down at the door, overcome by grief and hunger, poor Jack couldn't stand it no longer; so after suffering the brine to burst through the floodgates of his heart, till he was as blind as our chaplain to sin, he jumped up all at once, and made for the offing, blubbering as he went, 'May I be blistered, if ever I come to see such cruel stuff as this again!' Then didn't Stephen Collins, and Kelly, and Maxfield, the three managers, come upon deck, and drink success to the Leander's crew, out of a bucket of grog we had up for the purpose, and the ould mare of Portsmouth sent his compliments to us, begging us not to break our own necks or set fire to the playhouse? Another gla.s.s, Jem, to the crew of the Leander: don't you remember the ducking ould Mother Macguire, the b.u.m-boat woman, received, for bringing paw-paw articles on board, when we came in to refit?" "May I never want 'bacca, if I shall ever forget that old she crocodile!

Wasn't it her that brought that sea-dragon, Bet Bluff, on board, and persuaded me to be spliced to her? s.h.i.+ver her timbers for it!" "Avast there! messmate," said Tom: "when you ~190~~can't skuttle an enemy, it's best to sail right away from her hulk before she blows up and disables her conqueror. May I never get groggy, if I shall ever forget the joke between you and the old Sheenie, when you threatened to throw him overboard for selling you a dumb time-keeper. 'Blesh ma heart,' said the Jew, while his under works shook like a cutter's foresail going about, 'how could you expect de vatch to go well, ven de s.h.i.+p vas all in confus.h.i.+on?' an excuse that saved him from sailing ash.o.r.e in a skuttle-bucket." "Have you weathered Gosport lately?" inquired Jem: "there used to be a little matter of joviality going forward there upon the beach in war time, but I suppose it's all calm enough now." "All ruined by the peace; and all that glorious collection of the kings and queens of England, and her admirals and heroes, which used to swing to and fro in the wind, when every house upon the beach was a grog-shop, are past, vanished, or hanging like pirates in tatters; the sound of a fiddle never reaches their ears; and the parlour-floors, where we used to dance and sing till all was blue, are now as smooth and as clean as the decks of Lord Nelson's flag s.h.i.+p, the Victory, which lies moored in our harbour, like a Greenwich pensioner, anch.o.r.ed in quiet, to drop to pieces with old age. You may fire a nine-pounder up the princ.i.p.al street at noon-day now and not hurt any body; and if the peace lasts much longer, horses may graze in their roads, and persons receive pensions for inhabiting the vacant houses." The period within which I had promised to join Horace Eglantine had now elapsed. It was no easy task to separate myself from my nautical friends, and the amus.e.m.e.nt they had afforded me demanded some acknowledgment in return; calling, therefore, for a full bowl of punch, we drank success to the British navy, toasted wives and sweethearts, honoured our gracious king, shook ~191~~hands at parting, like old friends, and having promised to renew my acquaintance before I left Portsmouth, I bade adieu to jolly Jem Buntline and what remained of his n.o.ble messmate, the lion-hearted Tom Tackle.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page 191]

EVENING, AND IN HIGH SPIRITS.

A SCENE AT LONG'S HOTEL.

~192~~

Sketches of Character--Fas.h.i.+onable Notorieties--Modern Philosophy--The Man of Genius and the Buck--"A short Life and a merry one "--A Short Essay on--John Longs--Long Corks --Long Bills--Long Credits--Long-winded Customers--The Ancients and the Moderns, a Contrast by Old Crony.

Ye bucks who in manners, dress, fas.h.i.+on, and s.h.i.+ny, So often have hail'd me as lord of your gang-- "O lend me your ears!" whilst I deign to relate The cause of my splendour, the way to be great; My own chequered life condescend to unfold, And give a receipt of more value than gold; Reveal t' ye the spot where the graces all dwell, And point out the path like myself to excel.

--Pursuits of Fas.h.i.+on.

Only contrive to obtain the character of an eccentric, and you may ride the _free horse_ round the circle of your acquaintance for the remainder of your life. If my readers are not by this time fully satisfied of my peculiar claims to the appellation of an _oddity_, I have no hopes of obtaining pardon for the past whims and fancies of a volatile muse, or antic.i.p.ating patronage for the future wanderings of a restless and inquisitive humorist. But my bookseller, a steady, persevering, inflexible sort of personage, whose habits of business are as rigid as a citizen of the last century, or a puritan of the Cromwell commonwealth, has lately suffered the marble muscles of his frigid countenance to unbend with a sort of mechanical ~193~~inclination to an expression of--what shall I say--lib--lib--liberality; no, no, that will never do for a bookseller--graciousness--ay, that's a better phrase for the purpose; more characteristic of his manner, and more congenial to my own feelings. Well, to be plain then, whenever a young author can pa.s.s through an interview with the headman of the firm without hearing any thing in the shape of melancholy musings, serious disappointments, large numbers on hand, doubtful speculation, and such like pleasant innuendoes, he may rest satisfied that his book is selling well, and his publisher realizing a fair proportion of profit for his adventurous spirit. I am just now enjoying that pleasant gratification, the reflection of having added to my own comforts without having detracted from the happiness of others. In short, my scheme improves with every fresh essay, and my friend Bob Transit, who has just joined me in a bottle of iced claret at Long's, has been for some minutes busily engaged in booking mine host and his exhibits; while I, under pretence of writing a letter, have been penning this introduction to a chapter on fas.h.i.+on and its follies, annexing thereunto a few notes of characters, that may serve to ill.u.s.trate that resort of all that is exquisite and superlative in the annals of high ton. "Evening, and in High Spirits,"

--a scene worthy of the acknowledged talent of the artist, and full of fearful and instructive narrative for the pen of the English Spy. Seated snugly in one corner of Long's new and splendid coffee-room, we had resolved on our entering to depart early; but the society we had the good fortune to be afterwards a.s.sociated with might have tempted stronger heads than those of either Bob Transit the artist, or Bernard Blackmantle the moralist.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page193]

"Waiter, bring another bottle of iced claret, and tell Long to book it to the king's lieutenant." "By the honour of my ancestry," said the Honourable Lillyman Lionise, "but I am devilishly cut already."

~194~~"You do well, mighty well, sir, to swear by the honour of your ancestors; for very few of your modern stars have a ray of that same meteoric light to illumine their own milky way."

"That flash of your wit, lieutenant, comes upon one like the electric shock of an intended insult, and I must expect you will apologize."

"Then I fear, young valiant, you will die of the disease that has killed more brave men than the last twenty years' war."

"And what is that, sir, may I ask?"

"Expectation, my jewel! I've breakfasted, dined, supped, and slept upon it for the last half century, and am not one step higher in the army list yet."

"But, lieutenant, let me observe that--that--"

"That we are both pretty nigh bosky, and should not therefore be too fastidious in our jokes over the bottle."

Enter Waiter. "The claret, gentlemen. Mr. Long's compliments, and he requests permission to a.s.sure you that it is some of the late Duke of Queensberry's choice stock, marked A one."

"Which signifies, according to Long's edition of c.o.c.ker, that we must pay double for the liqueur. Come, Lionise, fill a b.u.mper; and let us tails of the lion toast our caput, the sovereign, the first corinthian of his day, and the most polished prince in the world."