Mr. Midshipman Easy by Frederick Marryat (top 10 inspirational books txt) 📕

Dr Middleton wrote to the Admiralty, informing them that family affairs necessitated Mr John Easy, who had been left at sick quarters, to leave his Majesty’s service, requesting his discharge from it forthwith. The Admiralty were graciously pleased to grant the request, and lose the services of a midshipman. The Admiralty were also pleased to grant the discharge of Mesty, on the sum required for a substitute being paid in.

The gipsies were routed out of their abodes, and sent once more to wander. The gamekeepers were restored, the preserves cleared of all poachers, and the gentry of the country were not a little pleased at Jack’s succession, for they had wished that Mr Easy’s neck had been broken long ago. The societies were dissolved, since, now that Mr Easy no longer paid for the beer, there was nothing to meet for. Cards and compliments were sent from all parts of the county, and every one was anxious that our hero should come of age, as then he would be able to marry, to give dinners, subscribe to the foxhounds, and live as a gentleman ought to do.

But during all these speculations, Jack had made Dr Middleton acquainted with the history of his amour with Agnes de Rebiera, and all particulars connected therewith, also with his determination to go out to bring her home as his wife. Dr Middleton saw no objection to the match, and he perceived that our hero was sincere. And Jack had made inquiries when the packet would sail for Malta, when Mesty, who stood behind his chair, observed,-

“Packet bad vessel, Massa Easy. Why not go out in man-of-war?”

“Very true,” replied Jack; “but you know, Mesty, that is not so easy.”

“And den how come home, sar? Suppose you and Missy Agnes taken prisoner-put in prison?”

“Very true,” replied Jack; “and as for a passage home in a man-of-war, that will be more difficult still.”

“Den I tink, sar, suppose you buy one fine vessel-plenty of guns-take out letter of marque - plenty of men, and bring Missy Agnes home like a lady. You captain of your own ship.”

“That deserves consideration, Mesty,” replied Jack, who thought of it during that night: and the next day resolved to follow Mesty’s advice. The Portsmouth paper lay on the breakfast-table. Jack took it up, and his eye was caught by an advertisement for the sale of the Joan d’arc, prize to H.M. ship Thetis, brigantine of 278 tons, copper-bottomed, armed, en flutes with all her stores, spars, sails, running and standing rigging, then lying in the harbour of Portsmouth, to take place on the following Wednesday.

Jack rang the bell, and ordered post-horses.

“Where are you going, my dear boy?” inquired Dr Middleton.

“To Portsmouth, Doctor.”

“And pray what for, if not an impertinent question?”

Jack then gave Dr Middleton an insight into his plan, and requested that he would allow him to do so, as there was plenty of ready money.

“But the expense will be enormous.”

“It will be heavy, sir, I grant; but I have calculated it pretty nearly, and I shall not spend at the rate of more than my income. Besides, as letter of marque, I shall have the right of capture; in fact, I mean to take out a privateer’s regular licence.”

“But not to remain there and cruise?”

“No, upon my honour; I am too anxious to get home again. You must not refuse me, my dear guardian.”

“As a lady is in the case, I will not, my dear boy; but be careful what you are about.”

“Never fear, sir, I will be back in four months, at the farthest; but I must now set off and ascertain if the vessel answers the description given in the advertisement.”

Jack threw himself into the chariot. Mesty mounted into the rumble, and in two hours they were at Portsmouth; went to the agent, viewed the vessel, which proved to be a very fine fast-sailing craft, well found, with six brass carronades on each side. The cabins were handsome, fitted up with bird’s-eye maple, and gilt mouldings.

This will do, thought Jack: a couple of long brass nines, forty men and six boys, and she will be just the thing we require. So Mesty and Jack went on shore again, and returned to Forest Hill to dinner, when he desired Mr Hanson to set off for Portsmouth, and bid at the sale for the vessel, as he wished to purchase her. This was Monday, and on Wednesday Mr Hanson purchased her, as she stood, for 1,750 pounds, which was considered about half her value.

Dr Middleton had, in the meantime, been thinking very seriously of Jack’s project. He could see no objection to it, provided that he was’ steady and prudent, but in both these qualities Jack had not exactly been tried. He therefore determined to look out for some steady naval lieutenant, and make it a sine qua non that our hero should be accompanied by him, and that he should go out as sailing-master. Now that the vessel was purchased, he informed Jack of his wish; indeed, as Dr Middleton observed, his duty as guardian demanded this precaution, and our hero, who felt very grateful to Dr Middleton, immediately acquiesced.

“And, by-the-bye, Doctor, see that he is a good navigator; for although I can fudge a day’s work pretty well, latterly I have been out of practice.”

Everyone was now busy: Jack and Mesty at Portsmouth, fitting out the vessel, and offering three guineas ahead to the crimps for every good able seaman - Mr Hanson obtaining the English register, and the letters of licence, and Dr Middleton in search of a good naval dry-nurse. Jack found time to write to Don Philip and Agnes, apprising them of the death of his father, and his intentions.

In about six weeks all was ready, and the brigantine, which had taken out her British register and licence under the name of the Rebiera, went out of harbour, and anchored at Spithead. Dr Middleton had procured, as he thought, a very fit person to sail with Jack, and our hero and Mesty embarked, wishing the Doctor and Solicitor good-bye, and leaving them nothing to do but to pay the bills.

The person selected by Dr Middleton, by the advice of an old friend of his, a purser in the navy, who lived at Southsea, was a Lieutenant Oxbelly, who, with the ship’s company, which had been collected, received our hero as their captain and owner upon his arrival on board. There certainly was no small contrast between our hero’s active slight figure and handsome person, set off with a blue coat, something like the present yacht-club uniform, and that of his second in command, who waddled to the side to receive him. He was a very short man, with an uncommon protuberance of stomach, with shoulders and arms too short for his body, and hands much too large, more like the paws of a Polar bear than anything else. He wore trousers, shoes, and buckles. On his head was a foraging cap, which, when he took it off, showed that he was quite bald. His age might be about fifty-five or sixty; his complexion florid, no whiskers, and little beard, nose straight, lips thin, teeth black with chewing, and always a little brown dribble from the left corner of his mouth (there was a leak there, he said). Altogether his countenance was prepossessing, for it was honest and manly, but his waist was preposterous.

“Steady enough,” thought Jack, as he returned Mr Oxbelly’s salute.

“How do you do, sir?” said Jack; “I trust we shall be good shipmates,” for Jack had not seen him before.

“Mr Easy,” replied the lieutenant, “I never quarrel with anyone, except (I won’t tell a story) with my wife.”

“I am sorry that you have ever domestic dissensions, Mr Oxbelly.”

“And I only quarrel with her at night, sir. She will take up more than her share of the bed, and won’t allow me to sleep single; but never mind that, sir; now will you please to muster the men?”

“If you please, Mr Oxbelly.”

The men were mustered, and Jack made them a long speech upon subordination, discipline, activity, duty, and so forth.

“A very good speech, Mr Easy,” said Mr Oxbelly, as the men went forward; “I wish my wife had heard it. But, sir, if you please, we’ll now get under way as fast as we can, for there is a Channel cruiser working up at St Helen’s, and we may give him the go-by by running through the Needles.”

“But what need we care for the Channel cruiser?”

“You forget, sir, that as soon as she drops her anchor she will come on board and take a fancy to at least ten of our men.”

“But they are protected.”

“Yes, sir, but that’s no protection, now-a-days. I have sailed in a privateer at least three years, and I know that they have no respect for letters of marque or for privateers.”

“I believe you are right, Mr Oxbelly; so, if you please, we will up with the anchor at once.”

The crew of the Rebiera had been well chosen; they were prime men-of-war’s men, most of whom had deserted from the various ships on the station, and, of course, were most anxious to be off. In a few minutes the Rebiera was under way with all sail set below and aloft. She was in excellent trim and flew through the water; the wind was fair, and by night they had passed Portland Lights, and the next morning were steering a course for the Bay of Biscay without having encountered what they feared more than an enemy,-a British cruiser to overhaul them.

“I think we shall do now, sir,” observed Mr Oxbelly to our hero; “we have made a famous run. It’s twelve o’clock, and if you please I’ll work the latitude, and let you know what it is. We must shape our course so as not to run in with the Brest squadron. A little more westing, sir. I’ll be up in one minute. My wife-but I’ll tell you about that when I come up.”

“Latitude 4I’ I2’, sir. I was about to say that my wife, when she was on board of the privateer that I commanded-”

“Board of the privateer, Mr Oxbelly?”

“Yes, sir, would go; told her it was impossible, but she wouldn’t listen to reason-came on board, flopped herself into the standing bed-place, and said that there she was for the cruise—little Billy with her-”

What! your child, too?

“Yes, two years old-fine boy-always laughed when the guns were fired, while his mother stood on the ladder and held him on the top of the booby-hatch.”

“I wonder that Mrs Oxbelly let you come here now?”

“So you would, sir, but I’ll explain that-she thinks I’m in London about my half-pay. She knows all by this time, and frets, I don’t doubt; but that will make her thin, and then there will be more room in the bed. Mrs Oxbelly is a very stout woman.”

“Why, you are not a little man!”

“No, not little-tending to be lusty, as the saying is-that is, in good condition. It’s very strange that Mrs Oxbelly has an idea that she is not large. I cannot persuade her to it. That’s the reason we always spar in bed. She says it is I, and I know that it is she who takes the largest share of it.”

“Perhaps you may both be right.”

“No, no; it is she who creates all the disturbance. If I get nearer to the wall she jams me up till I am as thin as a thread paper. If