Part 11 (1/2)
At length the _s.h.i.+pping Gazette_ announced the Glenalpine as ”homeward bound,” and in due time she was entered at the Custom House. George rushed with all speed to Mrs. Whitcher's, and was met with open arms by his intended bride. She was not very demonstrative, it is true, but she was glad to see him, and as her face lit up at his approach, the poor weather-beaten tar forgot all about a fearful gale he had just came through and its attendant perils, and wondered whether Heaven could possibly be an improvement on Mrs. Whitcher's front garden.
The wedding took place (as previously arranged) the next day, and the young couple took up their quarters at their new abode, George voting the cottage a decided improvement on the s.h.i.+p and Agnes smiling with delight at the thought of leaving Mrs. Whitcher's for ever. The s.h.i.+p remained in port about three weeks, and during that time the young couple lived not only figuratively but literally ”in clover,” as the cottage they had taken was on the margin of a clover meadow, the sweet perfume of which pervaded the atmosphere with its health-giving gases, gladdening the hearts and adding to the vitality of all who came under its influence.
But no earthly joys can last forever. George received a telegram ordering him to be in readiness to sail at any moment and finally an order for embarkation.
With a heavy heart he parted from his young and beautiful wife, the hope, however, of returning a richer man, better able to make her comfortable, cheered his manly spirit, and, clasping her once more in his fond embrace, he jumped into the boat and gave the men the order to pull to his vessel. His wife stood on the sh.o.r.e wistfully gazing at the s.h.i.+p till she was no longer visible, then, with a heavy step, she turned slowly homewards. She thought of the long weary hours she would have to count ere she would see him again, and, although she had never loved him pa.s.sionately, she felt his departure so keenly that she wept long and bitterly. For days she sat moodily looking out at the sea in the direction his vessel had taken, and a sad foreboding filled her heart that she would never see him more. Her comforter in her fitful hours was her maid, a French-Canadian girl, who had some years previously come to England in the capacity of stewardess on an ocean steamer, but, having taken fever during the vessel's stay in port, and been conveyed to the hospital, she was obliged to take service till she could again procure a situation on board s.h.i.+p. This girl--she was named Arline Bertrand--was a native of Montreal, and at this time about twenty-four years of age and rather good-looking. Bending over her mistress she would say: ”Ah, Madame, Monsieur Fairfield he come back _riche, riche_, with plentee nice thing for you!”
A few weeks after the vessel's departure Mrs. Fairfield received news from the agents of the safe arrival of the vessel at Montreal, and shortly afterwards she received a letter from her husband, full of joy at the prospect of seeing her again, and of clasping her in his arms.
But, though ”man proposes, G.o.d disposes,” and the programme which poor George Fairfield had so fondly laid out and hoped to execute was destined to be sadly altered. Weighing anchor late on Sat.u.r.day night they proceeded slowly down the river, and on the following Tuesday were out at sea. The wind was blowing a little fresh, but that suited Captain Fairfield admirably, for as it was a strong westerly wind, and blowing right astern it only sent his s.h.i.+p on all the faster, so, crowding on nearly all the canvas his experience had taught him was safe, he bent over the taffrail and whistled for more wind to bear him joyously along.
All day long they scudded gaily onward, and although towards evening the wind moderated a little still they went along at a pretty fair pace, and Captain Fairfield and his s.h.i.+p's company drank their grog heartily, antic.i.p.ating a pleasant and speedy voyage. At bedtime the Captain went on deck, and, ordering the mate to keep a good lookout, went below and ”turned in.” He was not long in his berth when he heard a great running and shouting over his head, and then the cry of ”Ice ahead!” from the look-out met his ears. With one bound he rushed on deck, and gave the order, to ”'Bout s.h.i.+p,” which the mate had already given; but there was no time to do more than port helm, and so avoid the direct shock from the ma.s.sive iceberg, into which at that moment they rushed with terrible force, the water pouring in torrents, and many of the men being killed by falling pieces of ice which towered several feet above the mast-head.
The boats were lowered with all speed, and were hardly clear of the ”Glenalpine” when she went down with a plunge head first, and not a vestige of hull, spars or masts was to be seen. A few of the men had jumped or fallen into the water; these were all picked up, and on counting heads it was found that none were missing except the mate and two sailors, who had been killed by the falling ice.
So great had been the hurry of shoving off that they found themselves without chart, compa.s.s, or provisions, save a little keg of water and a small flask of brandy. However, judging by the direction of the wind, which the Captain had noted carefully before retiring, the boats' heads were put in the direction of the island of Anticosti, and, keeping as nearly as possible together (there were three boats' crews), they pulled hard all night for sh.o.r.e. When the morning broke they fancied they observed the loom of the land in the distance, and a shout of joy involuntarily burst from the whole company; they were doomed, however, to disappointment, for, on the mist clearing away, they could observe nothing but sky and sea for miles on every hand. The Captain was completely puzzled how to act, so, summoning a council of war in the gig, they came to the conclusion that, as they might, instead of pulling toward the land, pull farther away from it, there was no use wasting their strength pulling at all, and that they had better keep a careful look out for vessels either going to or coming from America, and trust in Providence. The water was served carefully out, and the Captain took the brandy into his own charge, the men encouraging each other with tales of their past experience in situations equally trying and still more dangerous.
All day they bobbed about on the dancing waves, the oarsmen pulling just sufficiently to keep headway on their respective boats, but not a sign of either land or pa.s.sing vessel was visible. The last round of water was served out, and the men tried hard to induce the Captain to hand them over the brandy, some of them sullenly, and intimating an inclination to take the bottle by force; but the Captain c.o.c.king his revolver, which he had fortunately retained, they subsided into silence, and lay moodily at the bottom of the boat. They pa.s.sed the night with heavy hearts, and when morning dawned despair seized every man of them, for not a vestige of land was to be seen, neither was there a boat of any kind in sight. Fortunately the weather was remarkably calm and clear, so they had no difficulty in keeping together, and in sharing equally their little supply of water, but now that that was gone what were they to do?
Just as they were about to give up all hope a cry of joy from the boat further to windward caused the occupants of the other two boats to rest on their oars, and turn in that direction; they strained their eyes in the endeavor to descry something beyond, but could see nothing. However, those nearest the point in question evidently could, and so they turned back and pulled against the wind with all their might, and in a few minutes the boatswain sung out, ”A sail ahead”! causing their hearts to jump for joy. It was indeed a vessel which was rapidly coming towards them. It proved to be an American brig called ”Frances Smith,” which was bound for the Mediterranean, and the Captain no sooner sighted the signals of distress which were waved from the boats than he immediately hove to and picked the exhausted party up. The brig was rather crowded, as she was of small tonnage; however, the crew never murmured at the new-comers, but consented to accept a reduction in their rations, so that the half-famished men might receive a daily allowance.
The brig proceeded on her way, the rescued men insisting on doing their share of the work, and greatly lightened the labors of the crew. Within a few days, however, their powers were tried to the uttermost; the wind freshened to a gale, and threatened to annihilate the poor old brig, which was not in extra seaworthy condition. They were by this time more than half-way across the Atlantic, where the seas run sometimes as high as the yard-arm, and take several days to calm down when they have once been lashed into fury. The s.h.i.+p's timbers creaked and groaned, and the carpenter and his men had much ado to stop the numerous leaks which sprung in her sides. The next day it blew a hurricane, taking the fore mast and mainmast away, together with most of the rigging, and leaving the vessel almost a total wreck. As they were not far from the southern coast of Ireland, the Captain ordered the boats to be got ready with sails, arms and provisions; he also took with him a chart and compa.s.s, by which he was enabled to steer for the Fastnat Rock. There was scarcely room for the large party in the boats, but they all got safely in, a few minutes before the waterlogged brig went down like a lump of lead. They had not much to eat, but they had a good supply of water, and, as all the boats were well fitted with sails, the Captain hoped to make the Irish coast within a few days, the wind being much more moderate and in their favor.
Poor George Fairfield was sick at heart. He was so anxious to get home to his darling wife, and there he was for the second time at sea in an open boat, without the means of communicating with his loved Agnes, or of telling her why he was not at her side. Nevertheless he accepted the state of affairs with calm resignation, and he and the American Captain laid their heads together to find out exactly where they were and what course they had best pursue.
As they had had time to take with them a s.e.xtant chromometer and Palinurus, they had no difficulty next day in taking observations, and found themselves about five hundred miles W.N.W. of Mizen Head. As it was no use depending on being picked up they made all sail in that direction, and so rapidly did the strong west wind propel them that on taking observations the next day they found themselves nearly one hundred and fifty miles nearer land. It was fortunate that they made such headway, for they had only one day's provisions left, and the water was getting pretty scarce; however, the wind continued favorable, and in less than three days more, half famished and thoroughly chilled from exposure, they found themselves at midnight a few miles from the entrance of Queenstown Harbor.
Furling their sales, they took to the oars with a will and pulled wildly towards the landing-place, where they were pleased to hear voices in conversation. Just then a long whistle was heard from sh.o.r.e, and a husky voice half whispered, ”Boat ahoy!” ”Aye, aye,” was the glad response as the s.h.i.+pwrecked men threw the painter to the owner of the voice, and taking their arms and instruments, bounded on sh.o.r.e. Imagine their surprise to find themselves surrounded, their muskets knocked from their hands, and the latter speedily encircled with a pair of manacles. The Captain of the Brig tried to remonstrate with the commander of the party, but a navy revolver was pointed at his head, and he was forbidden to utter a word. Finding resistance and remonstrance altogether out of the question, the unfortunate men marched on silently as directed, mentally endeavoring to explain this sample of Irish hospitality, and confident that there must be a mistake somewhere, but of the precise nature of that error they had not the faintest idea.
Arrived at the gaol, they were severally incarcerated and their handcuffs taken off. Then, as they signified that they were hungry, they were liberally supplied with b.u.t.termilk and oatmeal porridge, which many of them thought the best and most sensible part of the whole proceeding.
As it was past midnight, and they were all nearly exhausted they allowed their curiosity to wait till the morrow, and, without any questioning or speculation, fell fast asleep, most of them remaining quiescent unfed late the following afternoon. When they awoke they found a warm meal awaiting them, but no reply as to the reason for their detention could be got out of the turnkey, who seemed to think their question one of the greatest jokes ever perpetrated within the precincts of that edifice. At last Fairfield summoned the turnkey. There was something commanding in his tone which bade the gaoler treat him with respect, and to his enquiry as to whether he could see a lawyer the man replied that he could send for one immediately, but would vouchsafe no information.
In a short time Councillor Quinn called in answer to Captain Fairfield's summons, when the latter asked him to explain what reason the authorities had for treating him in this fas.h.i.+on. The eminent legal pract.i.tioner evidently thought this as great a joke as did Mr.
Fitzgerald, the turnkey, for he thrust his tongue in his cheek, and remained silent. On Fairfield reiterating the question in a stern tone he became more serious and said affably ”My dear sir, do you not know what you are arrested for?”
Fairfield then became angry and said ”If I did, why would I send for you to tell me? Is this your boasted Irish hospitality, in the exercise of which you lock up every man who happens to be cast away on your sh.o.r.es, and then laugh at him when he asks you a civil question?”
On seeing that Fairfield had really lost his temper, the astonished barrister said ”Did you not command the party of armed men who were captured last night in the harbor?”
”I commanded a crew of s.h.i.+pwrecked sailors, as also did my companion in ill-treatment, Captain Westover.”
”Ah! Well of course you can put in that plea if you wish at your trial, but I am afraid it will avail you little. Your arms, too, are of an American pattern, similar to that known to be used by the Fenians.”
”Good Heavens! do they take me for a Fenian?” said Fairfield,--”why, I am an English officer, captain of a merchant vessel of the port of Glasgow.”
”Have you any papers to prove this?” said the lawyer.
”No, they all went down with the vessel, but they can easily find out whether my statements be correct by communicating with the agents.”
”That will be for you to do, when you are brought to trial, which may not be for some time, as there is a surplus of work on hand this session.”
”But can I not demand a trial?”
”No, the _Habeas Corpus_ Act is suspended, and you must just make yourself as comfortable as you can under the circ.u.mstances.”
Poor Fairfield wrung his hands and stamped the floor with rage. He cursed Ireland and her people and laws, or rather the want of them; then, as reason took the place of pa.s.sion, he sat down and wrote a letter to his wife, informing her of his deplorable condition, and urging her to communicate with the agents of his vessel immediately.