A day or two afterwards, we had a new messmate of the name of McFoy. I was on the quarter-deck when he came on board and presented a letter to the captain, inquiring first if his name was “Captain Sauvage.” He was a florid young man, nearly six feet high, with sandy hair, yet very good-looking. As his career in the service was very short, I will tell at once, what I did not find out till some time afterwards. The captain had agreed to receive him to oblige a brother officer, who had retired from the service, and lived in the Highlands of Scotland. The first notice which the captain had of the arrival of Mr McFoy, was from a letter written to him by the young man’s uncle. This amused him so much that he gave it to the first lieutenant to read: it ran as follows: —

  “Glasgow, April 25th, 1 — .

  “Sir, — Our much esteemed and mutual friend, Captain McAlpine, having communicated by letter, dated the 14th inst., your kind intentions relative to my nephew, Sholto McFoy (for which you will be pleased to accept my best thanks), I write to acquaint you that he is now on his way to join your ship, the Diomede, and will arrive, God willing, twenty-six hours after the receipt of this letter.

  “As I have been given to understand by those who have some acquaintance with the service of the King, that his equipment as an officer will be somewhat expensive, I have considered it but fair to ease your mind as to any responsibility on that score, and have therefore enclosed the half of a Bank of England note for ten pounds sterling, Number 3742, the other half of which will be duly forwarded in a frank promised to me the day after to-morrow. I beg you will make the necessary purchases, and apply the balance, should there be any, to his mess account, or any other expenses which you may consider warrantable or justifiable.

  “It is at the same time proper to inform you that Sholto had ten shillings in his pocket at the time of his leaving Glasgow; the satisfactory expenditure of which I have no doubt you will inquire into, as it is a large sum to be placed at the discretion of a youth only fourteen years and five months old. I mention his age, as Sholto is so tall that you might be deceived by his appearance, and be induced to trust to his prudence in affairs of this serious nature. Should he at any time require further assistance beyond his pay, which I am told is extremely handsome to all King’s officers, I beg you to consider that any draft of yours, at ten days’ sight, to the amount of five pounds sterling English, will be duly honoured by the firm of Monteith, McKillop, and Company, of Glasgow. Sir, with many thanks for your kindness and consideration,

  “I remain, your most obedient,

  “Walter Monteith.”

  The letter brought on board by McFoy was to prove his identity. While the captain read it, McFoy stared about him like a wild stag. The captain welcomed him to the ship, asked him one or two questions, introduced him to the first lieutenant, and then went on shore. The first lieutenant had asked me to dine in the gun-room; I supposed that he was pleased with me because I had found the men; and when the captain pulled on shore, he also invited Mr McFoy, when the following conversation took place.

  “Well, Mr McFoy, you have had a long journey; I presume it is the first that you have ever made.”

  “Indeed it is, sir,” replied McFoy; “and sorely I’ve been pestered. Had I minded all they whispered in my lug as I came along, I had need been made of money — sax-pence here, sax-pence there, sax-pence everywhere. Sich extortion I ne’er dreamt of.”

  “How did you come from Glasgow?”

  “By the wheel-boat, or steam-boat, as they ca’d it, to Lunnon: where they charged me sax-pence for taking my baggage on shore — a wee boxy nae bigger than yon cocked-up hat. I would fain carry it mysel’, but they wudna let me.”

  “How much of your ten-shillings have you left?” inquired the first lieutenant, smiling.

  “Hoot; sir lieutenant, how came you for to ken that? Eh; it’s my uncle Monteith at Glasgow. Why, as I sit here, I’ve but three shillings and a penny of it left. But there’s a smell here that’s no canny; so I’ll just go up again into the fresh air.”

  When Mr McFoy quitted the gun-room they all laughed very much. After he had been a short time on deck he went down into the midshipman’s berth: but he made himself very unpleasant, quarrelling and wrangling with everybody. It did not, however, last very long: for he would not obey any orders that were given him. On the third day, he quitted the ship without asking the permission of the first lieutenant; when he returned on board the following day, the first lieutenant put him under an arrest, and in charge of the sentry at the cabin door. During the afternoon I was under the half-deck, and perceived that he was sharpening a long clasp-knife upon the after-truck of the gun. I went up to him and asked him why he was doing so, and he replied, as his eyes flashed fire, that it was to avenge the insult offered to the bluid of McFoy. His look told me that he was in earnest.

  I was very much alarmed, and thought it my duty to state his murderous intentions, or worse might happen; so I walked up on deck and told the first lieutenant what McFoy was intending to do. Mr Falcon laughed, and shortly afterwards went down on the main-deck. McFoy’s eyes glistened, and he walked forward to where the first lieutenant was standing: but the sentry, who had been cautioned by me, kept him back with his bayonet. The first lieutenant turned round, and perceiving what was going on, desired the sentry to see if Mr McFoy had a knife in his hands; and he had it sure enough, open and held behind his back. He was disarmed, and the first lieutenant, perceiving that the lad meant mischief, reported his conduct to the captain, on his arrival on board. The captain sent for McFoy, who was very obstinate, and when taxed with his intentions would not deny it, or even say that he would not again attempt it; so he was sent on shore immediately, and returned to his friends in the Highlands. We never saw any more of him; but I heard that he obtained a commission in the army, and three months after he had joined his regiment was killed in a duel, resenting some fancied affront offered to the bluid of McFoy.

  Chapter Nine.

  We post up to Portsdown Fair — Consequence of disturbing a lady at supper — Spontaneous combustion at Ranelagh Gardens — Pastry versus piety — Many are bid to the feast; but not the halt, the lame, or the blind.

  A few days after McFoy quitted the ship, we all had leave from the first lieutenant to go to Portsdown fair, but he would only allow the oldsters to sleep on shore. We anticipated so much pleasure from our excursion that some of us were up early enough to go away in the boat sent for fresh beef. We had our breakfast, and went up George Street, where we found all sorts of vehicles ready to take us to the fair. We got into one which they called a dilly. I asked the man who drove it why it was so called, and he replied, because he only charged a shilling.

  O’Brien, who had joined us after breakfasting on board, said, that this answer reminded him of one given to him by a man who attended the hackney-coach stands in London.

  “Pray,” said he, “why are you called Waterman?”

  “Waterman,” replied the man, “vy, sir, ‘cause we opens the hackney-coach doors.”

  At last, with plenty of whipping, and plenty of swearing, and a great deal of laughing, the old horse, whose back curved upwards like a bow, from the difficulty of dragging so many, arrived at the bottom of Portsdown Hill, where we got out, and walked up to the fair. There was Richardson, with a clown and harlequin, and such beautiful women, dressed in clothes all over gold spangles, dancing reels and waltzes, and looking so happy! There was Flint and Gyngell, with fellows tumbling over head and heels, playing such tricks — eating fire, and drawing yards of tape out of their mouths. Then there was the Royal Circus, all the horses standing in a line, with men and women standing on their backs, waving flags, while the trumpeters blew their trumpets. We walked about for an hour or two seeing the outside of everything: we determined to go and see the inside. First we went into Richardson’s, where we saw a bloody tragedy, with a ghost and thunder, and afterwards a pantomime, full of tricks, and tumbling over one another. Then we saw one or two other things, I forget what, but this I know, that, generally speaking, the outside was better than the inside. After this, feeling very hungry, we agreed to go into a booth and have something to eat. The tables were ranged all round, and in the centre there was a boarded platform for dancing. The ladies were there all ready dressed for partners: and the music was so lively, that I felt very much inclined to dance, but we had agreed to go and see the wild beasts fed at Mr Polito’s menagerie, and as it was now almost eight o’clock, we paid our bill and set off. It was a very curious sight, and better worth seeing than anything in the fair; I never had an idea that there were so many strange animals in existence. There was the tapir, a great pig with a long nose, a variety of the hippopotamus, which the keeper said was an amphibilious animal, as couldn’t live on land, and dies in the water — however, it seemed to live very well in a cage. Then there was the kangaroo with its young ones peeping out of it — a most astonishing animal. The keeper said that it brought forth two young ones at a birth, and then took them into its stomach again, until they arrived at years of discretion. Then there was the pelican of the wilderness, with a large bag under his throat, which the man put on his head as a night-cap, this bird feeds its young with its own blood — when fish are scarce. There were a young elephant and three lions, and several other animals which I forget now, so I shall go on to describe the tragical scene which occurred. The keeper had poked up all the animals, and had commenced feeding them. The great lion was growling and snarling over the shin-bone of an ox, cracking it like a nut, when, by some mismanagement, one end of the pole upon which the chandelier was suspended fell down, striking the door of the cage in which the lioness was at supper, and bursting it open. It was all done in a second; the chandelier fell, the cage opened, and the lioness sprang out. I remember to this moment seeing the body of the lioness in the air, and then all was dark as pitch. What a change! not a moment before all of us staring with delight and curiosity, and then to be left in darkness, horror, and dismay! There was such screaming and shrieking, such crying and fighting, and pushing, and fainting — nobody knew where to go, or how to find their way out. The people crowded first on one side, and then on the other, as their fears instigated them. I was very soon jammed up with my back against the bars of one of the cages, and feeling some beast lay hold of me behind, made a desperate effort, and succeeded in climbing up to the cage above, not, however, without losing the seat of my trowsers, which the laughing hyaena would not let go. I hardly knew where I was when I climbed up. I was surmising what danger I should next encounter, when to my joy I discovered that I had gained the open door from which the lioness had escaped. I crawled in, and pulled the door to after me, thinking myself very fortunate: and there I sat very quietly in a corner during the remainder of the noise and confusion. I had been there but a few minutes, when the beef-eaters, as they were called, who played the music outside, came in with torches and loaded muskets. No one was seriously hurt. As for the lioness, she was not to be found and as soon as it was ascertained that she had escaped, there was as much terror and scampering away outside, as there had been in the menagerie. It appeared afterwards, that the animal had been as much frightened as we had been, and had secreted herself under one of the waggons. It was some time before she could be found. At last O’Brien, who was a very brave fellow, went a-head of the beef-eaters, and saw her eyes glaring. They borrowed a net or two from the carts which had brought calves to the fair, and threw them over her. When she was fairly entangled, they dragged her by the tail into the menagerie. All this while I had remained very quietly in the den, but when I perceived that its lawful owner had come back to retake possession, I thought it was time to come out; so I called to my messmates, who, with O’Brien, were assisting the beef-eaters. They had not discovered me, and laughed very much when they saw where I was. One of the midshipmen shot the bolt of the door, so that I could not jump out, and then stirred me up with a long pole. At last I contrived to unbolt it again, and got out, when they laughed still more, at the seat of my trowsers being torn off. It was not exactly a laughing matter to me, although I had to congratulate myself upon a very lucky escape; and so did my messmates think, when I narrated my adventures. O’Brien lent me a dark silk handkerchief, which I tied round my waist, and let drop behind, so that my misfortunes might not attract any notice.

  We then went to what they called the Ranelagh Gardens to see the fireworks, which were to be let off at ten o’clock. It was exactly ten when we paid for our admission, and we waited very patiently for a quarter of an hour, but there were no signs of the fireworks being displayed. The fact was, that the man to whom the gardens belonged waited until more company should arrive, although the place was already very full of people. Now the first lieutenant had ordered the boat to wait for us until twelve o’clock, and then return on board; and as we were seven miles from Portsmouth, we had not much time to spare. We waited another quarter of an hour, and then it was agreed that as the fireworks were stated in the handbill to commence precisely at ten o’clock, we were fully justified in letting them off ourselves. O’Brien went out, and returned with a dozen penny rattans, which he notched in the end. The fireworks were on the posts and stages, all ready, and it was agreed that we should light them all at once, and then mix with the crowd. The oldsters lighted cigars, and fixing them in the notched end of the canes, continued to puff them until they were all well lighted. They handed one to each of us, and at a signal we all applied them to the match papers, and as soon as the fire communicated, we threw down our canes and ran in among the crowd. In about half a minute, off they all went in the most beautiful confusion; there were silver stars and golden stars, blue lights and Catherine-wheels, mines and bombs, Grecian-fires and Roman-candles, Chinese trees, rockets, and illuminated mottoes, all firing away, cracking, popping, and fizzing, at the same time. We all escaped very cleverly, and taking another dilly, arrived at Portsmouth, and were down to the boat in good time.

  Sunday being a fine day, we all went on shore to church with Mr Falcon, the first lieutenant. We liked going to church very much; not, I am sorry to say, from religious feelings, but for the following reason: — the first lieutenant sat in a pew below, and we were placed in the gallery above, where he could not see us, nor indeed could we see him. We all remained very quiet, and I may say very devout, during the time of the service; but the clergyman who delivered the sermon was so tedious, and had such a bad voice, that we generally slipped out as soon as he went up into the pulpit, and adjourned to a pastrycook’s opposite, to eat cakes and tarts and drink cherry-brandy, which we infinitely preferred to hearing a sermon. Somehow or other, the first lieutenant had scented our proceedings: we believed that the marine officer informed against us, and this Sunday he served us a pretty trick. We had been at the pastry-cook’s as usual, and as soon as we perceived the people coming out of church, we put all our tarts and sweetmeats into our hats, which we then slipped on our heads, and took our station at the church door, as if we had just come down from the gallery, and had been waiting for him. Instead, however, of appearing at the church door, he walked up the street, and desired us to follow him to the boat. The fact was, he had been in the back room at the pastry-cook’s watching our motions through the green blinds. We had no suspicion, but thought that he had come out of church a little sooner than usual. When we arrived on board and followed him up the side, he said to us as we came on deck,— “Walk aft, young gentlemen.” We did; and he desired us to “toe a line,” which means to stand in a row. “Now, Mr Dixon,” said he, “what was the text today?” As he very often asked us that question, we always left one in the church until the text was given out, who brought it to us in the pastrycook’s shop, when we all marked it in our Bibles to be ready if he asked us. Dixon immediately pulled out his Bible where he had marked down the leaf and read it. “O! that was it,” said Mr Falcon; “you must have remarkably good ears, Mr Dixon, to have heard the clergyman from the pastry-cook’s shop. Now, gentlemen, hats off, if you please.” We all slided off our hats, which, as he expected, were full of pastry. “Really, gentlemen,” said he, feeling the different papers of pastry and sweetmeats, “I am quite delighted to perceive that you have not been to church for nothing. Few come away with so many good things pressed upon their seat of memory. Master-at-arms, send all the ship’s boys aft.”

  The boys all came tumbling up the ladders, and the first lieutenant desired each of them to take a seat upon the carronade slides. When they were all stationed, he ordered us to go round with our hats and request of each his acceptance of a tart, which we were obliged to do, handing first to one and then to another, until the hats were all empty. What annoyed me more than all, was the grinning of the boys at their being served by us like footmen, as well as the ridicule and laughter of the whole ship’s company, who had assembled at the gangways.

  When all the pastry was devoured, the first lieutenant said, “There, gentlemen, now that you have had your lesson for the day, you may go below.” We could not help laughing ourselves when we went down into the berth.

  Chapter Ten.

  A press-gang beaten off by one woman — Dangers at “Spithead” and “Point” — A treat for both parties, of “pulled chicken,” at my expense — Also gin for twenty — I am made a prisoner: escape and rejoin my ship.