Ever since leaving home, they had been on "short allowance." At the
present time, those belonging to the boats - and thus getting an
occasional opportunity to run ashore - frequently sold their rations
of bread to some less fortunate shipmate for sixfold its real value.
Another thing tending to promote dissatisfaction among the crew was
their having such a devil of a fellow for a captain. He was one of
those horrid naval bores - a great disciplinarian. In port, he kept
them constantly exercising yards and sails, and maneuvering with the
boats; and at sea, they were forever at quarters; running in and out
the enormous guns, as if their arms were made for nothing else. Then
there was the admiral aboard, also; and, no doubt, he too had a
paternal eye over them.
In the ordinary routine of duty, we could not but be struck with the
listless, slovenly behaviour of these men; there was nothing of the
national vivacity in their movements; nothing of the quick precision
perceptible on the deck of a thoroughly-disciplined armed vessel.
All this, however, when we came to know the reason, was no matter of
surprise; three-fourths of them were pressed men. Some old merchant
sailors had been seized the very day they landed from distant
voyages; while the landsmen, of whom there were many, had been driven
down from the country in herds, and so sent to sea.
At the time, I was quite amazed to hear of press-gangs in a day of
comparative peace; but the anomaly is accounted for by the fact that,
of late, the French have been building up a great military marine, to
take the place of that which Nelson gave to the waves of the sea at
Trafalgar. But it is to be hoped that they are not building their
ships for the people across the channel to take. In case of a war,
what a fluttering of French ensigns there would be!
Though I say the French are no sailors, I am far from seeking to
underrate them as a people. They are an ingenious and right gallant
nation. And, as an American, I take pride in asserting it.
CHAPTER XXX.
THEY TAKE US ASHORE - WHAT HAPPENED THERE
FIVE days and nights, if I remember right, we were aboard the frigate.
On the afternoon of the fifth, we were told that the next morning she
sailed for Valparaiso. Rejoiced at this, we prayed for a speedy
passage. But, as it turned out, the consul had no idea of letting us
off so easily. To our no small surprise, an officer came along toward
night, and ordered us out of irons. Being then mustered in the
gangway, we were escorted into a cutter alongside, and pulled ashore.
Accosted by Wilson as we struck the beach, he delivered us up to a
numerous guard of natives, who at once conducted us to a house near
by. Here we were made to sit down under a shade without; and the
consul and two elderly European residents passed by us, and entered.
After some delay, during which we were much diverted by the hilarious
good-nature of our guard - one of our number was called out for,
followed by an order for him to enter the house alone.
On returning a moment after, he told us we had little to encounter. It
had simply been asked whether he still continued of the same mind; on
replying yes, something was put down upon a piece of paper, and he
was waved outside. All being summoned in rotation, my own turn came
at last.
Within, Wilson and his two friends were seated magisterially at a
table - an inkstand, a pen, and a sheet of paper lending quite a
business-like air to the apartment. These three gentlemen, being
arrayed in coats and pantaloons, looked respectable, at least in a
country where complete suits of garments are so seldom met with. One
present essayed a solemn aspect; but having a short neck and full
face, only made out to look stupid.
It was this individual who condescended to take a paternal interest in
myself. After declaring my resolution with respect to the ship
unalterable, I was proceeding to withdraw, in compliance with a sign
from the consul, when the stranger turned round to him, saying, "Wait
a minute, if you please, Mr. Wilson; let me talk to that youth. Come
here, my young friend: I'm extremely sorry to see you associated with
these bad men; do you know what it will end in?"
"Oh, that's the lad that wrote the Round Robin," interposed the
consul. "He and that rascally doctor are at the bottom of the whole
affair - go outside, sir."
I retired as from the presence of royalty; backing out with many
bows.
The evident prejudice of Wilson against both the doctor and myself was
by no means inexplicable. A man of any education before the mast is
always looked upon with dislike by his captain; and, never mind how
peaceable he may be, should any disturbance arise, from his
intellectual superiority, he is deemed to exert an underhand
influence against the officers.
Little as I had seen of Captain Guy, the few glances cast upon me
after being on board a week or so were sufficient to reveal his
enmity - a feeling quickened by my undisguised companionship with Long
Ghost, whom he both feared and cordially hated. Guy's relations with
the consul readily explains the latter's hostility.
The examination over, Wilson and his friends advanced to the doorway;
when the former, assuming a severe expression, pronounced our
perverseness infatuation in the extreme. Nor was there any hope left:
our last chance for pardon was gone.
