When it was dinner-time Virginia and I went home together. As we came to Fisher's Alley I said to her, "Mother will be angry with you."
"I can't help it, Jack," replied she; "you are my own brother, and we are not doing wrong."
When we went in my mother looked hard at me; but, to my surprise, said nothing. She was sulky, but whether it was with Virginia or with me, or with my new clothes, or whether her conscience smote her for her neglect of me, I do not know. She put the dinner on the table in silence, and after it was over she went upstairs. Virginia and I did not neglect this opportunity. She put on her bonnet, we slipped out, and walked about together till tea-time. When we came back my mother seized my sister by the arm and carried her up to bed. Little Virginia made no resistance, but turned her head and smiled at me as she was led away. I never felt so happy in my life as I did when I went to bed and thought over the events of the day.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I am so Unfashionable as to pay my DebtsBen's Opinion as to my Father's ReturnThe Chances exemplified in the List of killed and woundedThe "L'Orient" blowing up and the "Royal George" going down.
Time passed, and three years of it certainly were not unprofitably spent. Anderson had instructed me well. I could read, write, and cipher, and, what the reader will consider of more consequence, I was well acquainted with the Bible, and duly admonished by my preceptor of my duty toward God and man. Nor was my sister Virginia neglected. My mother, as soon as she was seven years old, sent her as a day scholar to a young ladies' seminary, where she was well taught, although the style of the school was much above my sister's situation in life; but my mother would not allow her to go anywhere else, although there were several schools more appropriate. She declared that Virginia should not mix with the vulgar, ungenteel girls of the place, and that, if she had demeaned herself by marrying below her rank, at all events her daughter should be brought up as she ought to be. The neighbors laughed at her, but my mother did not care. She worked hard, and always was ready to pay the quarter's bill for schooling whenever it was due.
To me Sunday was a day of rejoicing; I was so glad to throw off my ragged apparel of "Poor Jack" and put on my best clothes, that I might walk with my sister, for my mother gradually softened down her asperity (perhaps out of prudence), as she could raise no objection to Virginia walking with her brother when he was clean and well dressed, and Virginia was very firm in supporting me when I requested permission. Indeed, latterly my requests were more like demanding a right than a favor, and my mother appeared to wish to avoid a contest with me. She knew that I was a good scholar, very independent of her, and very much liked. The favorable opinion of others induced her to treat me with more consideration; but we had no regard for each other, only preserving a sort of armed neutrality.
There are grades in all classes of life; and the young ladies' seminary, to which Virginia went as a day scholar, had its distinctions of rank. The first in consequence among the young ladies were the two daughters of Mr. Tippet, the haberdasher; then came the hatter's daughter, Miss Beaver. The grades appeared to be as follows: manufactures held the first rank; then dry goods, as the tea-dealers, grocers, etc.; the third class consisted of the daughters of the substantial butchers and pastrycooks. The squabbles between the young ladies about rank and precedence were continual: what then must have been the position of poor little Virginia, whose mother was a clear-starcher and getter-up of fine linen? At first they called her the washerwoman's daughter, and would not associate with her, which made her very uncomfortable; and she used to tell me on the Sundays when we walked out how she had been treated during the week. But it was all for her advantage, and tended to correct the false pride and upstart ideas which in time must have been engendered by my mother's folly. Neither, after a few weeks, was my sister unhappy. She was too meek in disposition to reply, so that she disarmed those who would assail her; and being, as she was, of the lowest rank in the school, there could be no contest with the others as to precedence. Her mildness, humility, and sweetness of temper soon won upon both the schoolmistress and the scholars; eventually the Misses Tippet took Virginia under their protection, and this magnanimity on their part silenced all opposition. My mother had desired my sister to take lessons in dancing. At first the girls would not stand up with her; but, when the elder Miss Tippet took her as a partner, my sister became quite the fashion, and, what was better, a great favorite and pet with everybody; and they all patronized her as "little Virginia."
I very soon paid off my debt to old Nanny, without having to apply to Peter Anderson. I had assistance (but without asking for it) as follows: The second Sunday after I had obtained my clothes I called, with Virginia, upon the widow of St. Felix. She was in the back parlor, and the doctor, as usual, sitting with her. She received us very kindly, spoke a deal to Virginia, and told me that I looked very handsome for "Poor Jack."
"You'll be quite the fashion," continued she; "and I presume, like most fashionable gentlemen, your clothes are not paid for."
I replied, laughing, that they were not; but that they should be, if I lived and could work.
"I've heard the whole story from old Ben," replied she. "Come in to-morrow, Jack; I want to speak with you."
I did so in the forenoon, when she put a five-shilling piece in my hand, and said, "That's from me, to help you to pay your debt to old Nanny. But that's not all, Jack; I've coaxed the doctor (not that he required much coaxing, to do him justice), and here's two half-crowns from him, which, I believe, will go about as far as my five shillings. Now, Jack, you look very happy; so, just out of gratitude, run as fast as you can, and make poor old Nanny happy, for she moans over her generous fit, and wonders all day long whether you will ever pay her again."
I had listened all this while to Mrs. St. Felix, but I was so moved by her kindness and generosity that I could not speak. I had received money for services performed, and I had obtained it from Nanny as a loan, to be repaid with interest; but so much money, as a gift, had never entered into my imagination. I could not restrain my feelings. I dropped my face on the counter to conceal the tears which escaped.
"I can't say 'thank you,' as I wish, indeed I can't," said I, as I looked up at her.
"Why, you foolish boy, you have said thank you," replied the widow; "and now run away, for I must leave the shop a minute."
This assistance made me redouble my exertions, and in three months I had repaid the whole. The last portion which was due I received from Virginia. She knew how much I paid off every week; and when on Sunday I told her that I had only one and sixpence owing, she ran upstairs, and, when she came down again, put the sum into my hand. She had been saving up all she could coax out of my mother ever since I had first obtained the clothes; and great indeed was her delight when she gave me the moneyshe kissed me, and began to dance, although it was Sunday, and then she proposed that we should walk together to old Nanny's, and close the account. We found the old woman sitting on her steps; the door was open, but the shop shutters were up. On the Saturday night I had paid her two shillings, so that she did not expect to see me. Virginia put the one and sixpence in her hand, saying, "Now brother has paid you all."
"Yes, darling, he has," replied old Nanny; "but then he promised"
"Yes, darling, he has," replied old Nanny; "but then he promised"
"I know I did," interrupted I; "and I will keep my promise. I promised you good bargains."
"You're an honest boy, Jack, and what's more strange, your sister isn't a spoiled girl; but that's not her mother's fault. My dear, if it was not Sunday you would be able to see all the pretty things in my shop, and perhaps you might like something. You must come another day."
I thanked old Nanny once more for having trusted me, and then we left her, I did keep my word with, her, and gave her good bargains for a long while afterward.
I often thought of my father, who had been absent now for nearly four years, and, as the time advanced, I became more anxious to hear of him. I seldom met old Ben the Whaler without talking about my father, and asking Ben what chance he thought there was of his return.
"Why, you see, Jack," said Ben, "in these times it's hard to say whether a man be alive or not. Every day we hear of some naval action or another, and therefore every day some must lose the number of their mess; and then you see, Jack, a man may be supposed to be dead for years, and after all turn up in some French prison or another; and then ships change their stations, and ships' companies their ships; and then ships are sometimes wrecked, with all hands, or take fire, and are blown up. Many a good seaman loses his life by falling overboard in a galeand who knows or cares? Whether your father be alive or be dead, Jack, it is impossible for me to say; but, howsomever, I hope he be."
This was not a satisfactory, although a cautious reply, and I never could get Ben to give any other. I began to think that one of the mischances enumerated in Ben's catalogue might have occurred, and that I never should see my father again, when one morning, as I was standing at the landing-place, Ben came up to me and said, "Now, Jack, perhaps we may hear something of your father. Here's been a famous action fought, and a matter of a thousand men killed and wounded. I've only just heard about it. Nelson has licked the French on the coast of Egypt" (Ben here referred to the battle of the Nile), "and the 'Oudacious,' the ship on board of which your father was boatswain's mate, was in the action. Now, you see, the names of the killed will be sent into the office here, that their relations may receive the pay and prize-money due to them. So now, Jack, perhaps you'll hear something about your father."
"But I shall only hear of his being killed, by your account. I don't want to hear that."
"No, boy, of course you don't; but if you do, you'll hear the worst of it, and that's some comfort, and if he aren't killed, why, perhaps he's wounded, and perhaps he aren't; all perhapses in this world. Howsomever, come with me. I saw Anderson, with a paper in his hand, walking up to his retreat, as he calls it; so let's make all sail after him, and we shall overhaul him before he begins to read it."
There is a small hill just inside of the Greenwich Park gates, commanding a beautiful view of the river and the hospital. Here Anderson was accustomed to repair when the weather was fine, that, as he told me, he might commune with himself. In this instance he had retired there to avoid the excitement and confusion which prevailed; he had, however, been accompanied by three other pensioners, whom we found on the hill when we arrived, and, before we had been there a minute, the pensioners had followed up so fast that there was quite a crowd. We were just in time to hear him commence reading the newspaper account. The wind was very high; old Anderson had taken off his hat (out of respect, I presume, for the service), and his long gray locks were swept by the wind, which, indeed, carried away his voice, so that it was with difficulty that I could hear what he said. "Second Edition. Glorious news! We have the felicity to inform our readers that, by dispatches received at the Admiralty this day, a splendid naval victory has been gained over the French fleet lying in Aboukir Bay, by Rear-Admiral Sir Horatio Nelson, and the gallant seamen under his command. We refer our readers to the dispatch of Sir Horatio Nelson for the details. We have only to say, in few words, that the French fleet of thirteen sail of the line and four frigates were, on the 1st of August last, when lying at anchor in Aboukir Bay, attacked by the English fleet of twelve sail of the line and one fifty-gun ship, and after a severe action, eleven sail of the line and two frigates belonging to the French were taken or burned. The loss on our side amounts to two hundred and eighteen killed, and six hundred and seventy-seven wounded."
"Hurrah! three cheers, my lads!" cried Anderson, dropping the hand which held the newspaper, and raising the other with his hat in it above his head. The three hearty cheers were given by the crowd which had now assembled; and then Ben said to me:
"You see, Jack, there's a lot of killed and wounded; so now, perhaps, you will hear something about your father."
By this time I had been pushed back, first by one, and then by another, until I was a long way off from where Anderson stood.
"I can't hear a word that Peter says," replied I to Ben.
"No, because the wind's so high, and I myself am a little hard of hearing out of doors. Suppose we go now, and by-and-by you shall get the paper from Anderson, and read it all over to me."
"Come away, Ben," replied I, impatiently, "I've got a shilling, and I'll buy one."
We left the hill and went down into the town, directing our course to where we heard the horns blowing. I had not, however, to go to such an extraordinary expense, as "a full and particular account" had been struck off for twopence; one of these I purchased, and then Ben and I sat down on the bench outside of a public-house, and I commenced reading.
"How good that porter looks!" observed Ben, after a pause, as he eyed a man near to him who was blowing off the froth from the top of the pot he held in his hand.
"Well, Ben, as I have bought the account of the battle for twopence, suppose I spend the rest of the money I intended to pay for it in a pot of porter, to drink the health of Nelson?"
"Ay, my boy, and of those who fought with him," replied Ben; "your own father, Jack, whether he be dead or alive."
I sighed at the idea of my father being dead, for I had a great regard for him, although I had not seen much of him. The porter was brought, and after we had both drunk I recommenced reading. Having concluded Admiral Nelson's dispatch and the list of the ships taken, we then came to the loss in killed and wounded on board of the respective English ships.
"'Vanguard'thirty killed, seventy-five wounded; total, a hundred and five."
"Yes, Jack, that was Nelson's own ship; and he is always to be found where the shot fly thickest."
"'Bellerophon'forty-nine killed, a hundred and forty-eight wounded; total, a hundred and ninety-seven."
"Well, she was in the thick of it, anyhow!" observed Ben.
"'Majestic'fifty killed, a hundred and forty-three wounded; total, a hundred and ninety-three."
"Why, she and the 'Bellyruffron' seem to have pretty well shared and shared alike. You see, Jack, they led into the action, and had all the cream of the fire."
I went on reading and Ben remarking, until I came to the "Audacious."
"'Audacious'"one killed, and thirty-five wounded; total, thirty-six."
"Well now, Jack, that's all in favor of your father being alive; 'cause why should he be the one killed, more than any one else? I'd bet two pots of beer that he's among the woundedbut it's impossible to say; for you see, Jack, although they give us the names of the officers killed and wounded, they always lump the petty officers and common seamen. Well, here's to your father's health, Jack, anyhow; we shall soon hear something about him."