Chapter 2

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_ CHAPTER TWO

Cousin Giles finds an old Shipmate--Tom Puffing's Account of the Wreck of the _Victoria_--Miraculous Escape of Part of the Crew--God's merciful Providence displayed--Cousin Giles converses with the Crew-- First Sight of Denmark, Elsinore, and its Castle--View of Copenhagen-- Description of the Battle and its Cause--Sunday Service on board Ship--Voyage up the Baltic--The Gulf of Finland--Cronstadt and its Batteries--Why the British did not take them--The Czar's Mode of Manning a Ship in a Hurry--The Russian Fleet--Leave their Steamer and proceed towards Saint Petersburg.

Cousin Giles soon found his way forward, over the bales of cotton and piles of hay, followed by Fred and Harry, and entered into conversation with the crew. He had not been long there when an old weather-beaten seaman put his head up the fore hatchway. "Ah! Tom Pulling. I thought that I had caught sight of the face of an old shipmate," exclaimed Cousin Giles, stretching out his hand. "How fares it with you?"

The old man's countenance brightened as he returned the grasp warmly.

"Is it you, indeed? I am glad to see you--that I am," he answered. "I've a good berth now, though I've had knocking about enough since I sailed with you last in the _Juno_. I was cast away in these very parts some time back, and never had a narrower chance of losing my life, so to speak."

Cousin Giles asked old Tom how this had happened. The other seamen who were not on duty drew near to listen to the old man's oft-spun yarn, and our young friends stood by, eager to hear what he had got to say.

"Why, you see, sir," he replied, "after I was discharged from the old _Melampus_, I thought I'd try if a short-voyage steamer would suit me better than a man-of-war, seeing that I'd got a wife and family to look after; so I shipped on board the _Victoria_ steamer, running from the port of Hull to Saint Petersburg. It was our last voyage that year. About the 6th of November, I think, we left the Humber; but we hoped to get to Cronstadt and away again before the ice set in. The weather was as fair as could be wished for, and with smooth water; so we all made up our minds that we were going to have a quick run of it. Howsomever, the wind breezed up a little on the second day, and by nightfall it blew pretty freshish, with a heavyish sea on. We had much the same sort of weather on the third day, and at night it came on so thick and dark that we could not see our hands held out before us. Still all seemed going on well. We supposed that we were steering a course through the Skaggerack, with a good offing from the land, when, just about the middle of the first watch, as the passengers were in the cabin, maybe thinking of turning in to their warm beds all snug, and talking of what they would do next day at Copenhagen, where we were to touch, without an instant's warning--bang! Crash!--loud shrieks and cries of terror were heard, the ship quivered from stem to stern as if her last moment was come. It was not far off, either; the sea came roaring up abaft and made a clean sweep over her. She had struck heavily on a rock of some sort, that was certain; but where we were, or how it had happened, no one could tell. Every one was running here and there, crying for help, when there was no one to help them; some took to praying, some to blaspheming; terror seemed to have taken away their senses. I did think that all of us had seen the sun rise for the last time, for it was too dark by far to allow us to try and help ourselves; and, from the way the sea kept striking the ship, I knew full well she could not long hold together.

"Well, Mr Fairman, I'm not ashamed to say I prayed as I never prayed before; and, you'll believe me, sir, I felt a comfort and an assurance of my Maker's protection which also I had never felt before. As my ears caught the sound of the dreadful oaths of the blasphemers, I thought of the Day of Judgment. When that awful time comes, and the world breaks up like the ship, how will such men and many others, amid the clouds and thick darkness which will surround them, be able to pray? No; they'll blaspheme on, as they are doing now, to the end. The captain, to do him but justice, behaved nobly. He did his best to keep order and discipline on board. He told the people that, if they would but remain by the ship, they all might be saved. He could not say, like Saint Paul, they would be saved. Few listened to him; some, however, stayed by his side and promised to support him. They had been on their knees asking support for themselves; whence only it can come, you know, sir. Others, on the contrary, got hold of one of the boats, and began to lower her into the water. The captain prayed and begged of them to desist, but they would not hearken to him. There were some of the crew and some of the passengers, and when he tried to prevent them they threatened to heave him overboard. At last they got the boat into the water, and eight of them jumped into her and shoved off from the ship's side. In an instant, as he had told them it would be, the boat was capsized, and all hands were thrown into the raging sea. One poor wretch had on a life-preserver--he thought, at all events, that he was all safe, and that he could not drown; the rest had nothing to float them. For half a minute their cries were heard, and then they sank nearly all together, and his voice alone struck our ears, shrieking out for help, but no help could be given him. He was striking out for the ship, I judged; sometimes by his voice he seemed to have got nearer, but that might have been my fancy; then a sea came rolling by, and drove him farther off again. It was very dreadful to hear that poor dying wretch, and not be able to help him. He was a strong man, and for long struggled on; nearly an hour perhaps passed, but his voice grew fainter and fainter, and at last was no longer heard.

"All this time the ship was striking heavily, hammering away on the rock as if she was pile-driving. We burned all the blue lights we had on board, in the hopes of drawing the attention of some fishermen or other passing craft; but they only enabled those on board to see the horrors of our situation. Nearly four hours had thus passed, when a shout from the cook, who said he saw a signal, made us fancy help was coming to us; but in another minute we found that it was only the moon rising through a gap in the clouds. We all earnestly longed for morning, for till daylight came we could do nothing. The moon only served to show us more clearly the horrors of our situation. Piece after piece of the vessel was washed away, but still all those who remained round the captain were safe. At last there was a faint light in the east; it grew stronger and stronger, and there was twilight enough to let us see to the distance of a mile or two. About a mile off appeared a rock high enough out of the water to serve us as a refuge. The captain at once ordered a boat to be lowered, and all the women and children to be put into her, with five men to pull her to the rock. It was a work of no little danger to the poor creatures, but we at last got them all safe off, and with many a prayer watched them till they reached the rock. We had another boat, and there were fourteen of us remaining on the wreck. We all got into her, but we instantly saw that thus crowded she would be swamped before she could reach the shore. 'Never mind, my fine fellows, I'll stay by the wreck!' exclaimed the captain, jumping on board again. 'Who'll follow me?'

"'I'll stay by you, captain,' said I; and five others said the same. The rest shoved off, and reached the rock in safety, but the sea was too high to allow the boat to return. Then we seven souls were left on the wreck, which was every moment breaking up beneath our feet. The after-part of the vessel was soon completely gone--then we retreated forward; then the forecastle--that soon began to break up, and we had to hold on amidships. We tried to keep up each other's spirits by telling how seamen had often been preserved in worse situations even than ours, and most of us did not cease to pray to God to save us. The sea, after we returned on board the wreck, got up even more than before.

"At last a sea, still heavier than the rest, came rolling towards us. 'Hold on! Hold on, my lads, for your lives!' shouted our brave captain; but in a minute there was scarcely anything to hold on to. He himself was carried away some fathoms from the wreck. Our situation was bad enough, but it did not make us forget our captain. We would have done anything to help him, but there was not a rope we could lay hold of to heave to him. By God's mercy he had on a life-belt, and he got hold of a piece of plank. Thus he kept afloat, and, working away with his feet, he was able once more to reach the wreck. His return--it seemed almost to life--cheered us up not a little. No long time, however, passed before another sea struck the fragments to which we clung, knocking them all to pieces, and sending us to float alone on the waves. One part only of the wreck remained above the water--it was the boiler. We all swam back to it, and clung on as well as we could; but we saw that, what with the cold and the sea, which kept breaking over us, we should soon be washed off again. 'If we could but get inside the boiler, we might find some shelter,' said the captain; but, try all we could, we could not make a hole big enough to get through. We were almost in despair. A fourth great sea came tumbling in on us. We all thought that it would prove our destruction; so did the captain. 'Good-bye, my lads, good-bye!' he exclaimed. 'God have mercy on us all!' On came the breaker, and for a moment we were all under it. When it cleared away, we were still holding on.

"Directly afterwards the engineer gave a shout of joy. 'See what Providence has sent us!' he cried out, as he held up a large pair of blacksmith's pincers which that very sea we thought would destroy us had washed on to the boiler. 'God intends us to save our lives,' he added; for he was a pious man, and always acknowledged whence all blessings come to us. We set to work manfully with the pincers, and soon forced off enough of the top of the boiler to let us all creep in. We felt that it was firmly fixed on the rock, and here we were much more sheltered than before from the sea. Hunger and cold next began to tell on us. We had not before had time to feel either. One of our men had an apple in his pocket. He handed it to the captain. 'There, captain,' said he, 'what is sent to one is sent to all. Serve it out, if you please, among us: if any one has a quid in his pouch, or a bit of biscuit, let him do the same!' We all felt in our pockets, but could find nothing to eat; so the captain took the apple, and, cutting it into seven bits, each took one, and munched away at it as long as it would stay in our mouths. All the time we were looking out anxiously for a sail, but nothing could we see but the dark, tumbling, foaming breakers around us. Not even the rock where our companions had got could we see. Noon passed, hour after hour crept by after it, the horrors of another night threatened us, and we began to give way to despair. Some of us talked of giving up, and dropping into the sea. The captain rebuked the grumblers sternly. 'You heard what the engineer said, my lads: "God intends to save our lives," and I feel now he was right.' Scarcely had he spoken when the engineer shouted out, 'A sail! A sail!' We all looked out eagerly. There was a fishing-boat standing towards us. In half an hour she had hove-to to leeward of the wreck. Her brave crew lowered their sail and pulled in towards us: but they could not venture very near, and it was no easy matter to get on board. All we could do was to wait till the seas washed over us, and then one by one we plunged in; and they carried us clear of the rocks, which would otherwise have knocked us to pieces. Thus we all got on board the little craft, and were carried safely on shore. The same fishing-boat had before taken off our companions from the rock, and they had then sent her to our assistance.

"Now you will like to know how the accident happened without any blame to the captain, or any one on board? The truth was that we had, as part of the cargo, a quantity of iron. This had set all our compasses wrong, making us twenty or thirty miles out of our course at least. I've often since thought, Mr Fairman, if we hadn't a true compass to steer by like the Bible, which of us would escape the rocks which lie in our course in life; and it's my opinion that those who do steer by it never get far wrong."

The young travellers thanked old Tom very much for his interesting narrative, and Cousin Giles spun a long yarn with him afterwards about old times. Cousin Giles had also a talk with each of the crew, and gave them some books and tracts, for which they were very thankful.

All Friday night the lead was kept going, for the master judged that they ought to have been in the very centre of the Skaggerack passage, which is very deep; but it told him that the ship was still in shallow water. The very same circumstance which caused the loss of the _Victoria_ had happened to them. Their compasses, attracted by some of the iron in the ship, were not pointing truly. They had reason to be thankful that the error was discovered in time, or they might have suffered the same disasters they had lately heard described. When the fog cleared away, they found that they were off the coast of Jutland, twenty miles south of where they should have been. In the afternoon they sighted the Scaw lighthouse, built on a sandy point, with sand hills, and a ruined church on them--no very interesting object, except as being the first part they saw of Denmark.

Sunday morning, at five o'clock, the steward called to them to say that they were close to Elsinore. They hurried on deck, and found that they were passing that far-famed castle, where the ghost of Hamlet's father was wont to walk and tell its tale of horrors to any one it might chance to meet and had time to stop and listen to it. Seen in the bright glow of the morning sun, the castle had a pleasing, cheerful aspect, with nothing of the dark, gloomy, hobgoblin style of architecture about it, such as Mrs Radcliffe delighted to describe. It stands on a narrow neck of land a little to the north of the town, and is of a quadrangular form, with three Moorish-looking towers and a square one of modern style at the four corners. It is surrounded by a fosse and low ramparts, of a modern style of fortification. The royal family of Denmark came occasionally to the castle to enjoy sea-bathing for a few days. The Sound is here very narrow, the shore of Sweden being not more than three or foul miles off. It was crowded with shipping, the place serving as a roadstead for Copenhagen, which is about twenty miles distant. In the forenoon they came off Copenhagen, but did not touch there. The nearest point to them was the Trekroner, or Three-crown Battery, as an artificially-formed island directly in front of the city is called. This is the point which, in the attack under Nelson, gave the British so much trouble, and cost so many lives. Beyond it, within a mole, were seen the masts of some shipping, and behind them arose towers and spires and public edifices, and trees, and houses of various shapes, springing, as it seemed, out of the water.

Cousin Giles gave the lads a description of the battle of Copenhagen, which was fought on the 2nd of April 1801. The destruction of the Danish fleet was a sad necessity. The attack was made on our old allies and natural friends, to prevent their fleet from falling into the power of Napoleon, who would have employed it against us. The Danes have not yet forgotten that untoward event.

For most of the day they steamed on with the shores both of Sweden and Denmark in sight. The usual morning work of the ship having been got through, Cousin Giles asked the captain if he ever had service on board.

"When we have a clergyman," was the answer.

"How often is that?"

"Once I took one over; but, to be sure, he was sick, and had to cut it short."

"Then, how often are you in port on a Sunday?"

"Not often in England, and sometimes in foreign parts we are so pressed for time that we are obliged to be discharging or taking in cargo on a Sunday."

"I am sorry to hear that. Sailing-vessels used seldom to be so pressed. But why do not you hold service for your people at sea, at all events?" said Cousin Giles.

"I!--how should such an one as I hold service?" replied the master simply. "The men are accustomed to hear me swear at them and abuse them. They would laugh if I proposed to pray with them."

"Leave off swearing, and take to praying, then, my friend," said Cousin Giles solemnly. "Ask yourself which is the best of the two."

"I am afraid I should make but a bad hand at the prayers," said the master carelessly.

"Try," answered Cousin Giles earnestly. "But, my friend, if you will give me leave, I will hold a service on the sacred day of rest, and perhaps some of the passengers may join us."

"The passengers may, but I don't think you'll get many of my fellows to attend your service," was the reply.

"I will try, at all events, if I have your permission," said Cousin Giles.

"Oh, certainly, certainly," replied the master in a somewhat supercilious tone; but he was not a little puzzled to make out what sort of man Cousin Giles could be.

Cousin Giles on this went forward, and spoke to each of the men separately, in his own peculiar, kind way, and told them that he was anxious to thank his Maker and theirs for all the mercies they had so often received, and invited them to join him in that act of devotion in about an hour's time.

They all not only willingly but gladly assented to his proposal, and promised to go aft when they were summoned. Although the master had not discovered that Cousin Giles was a seaman, they had, and knew him to be a true man. He then returned aft, and spoke to the passengers in the same strain, and but very few refused to join the service. Two said they would think about it; one had an interesting book to finish; and another asked him if he was a parson, and said he only attended services held by properly ordained ministers.

At the appointed hour, to the surprise of the master, every seaman, engineer, and stoker who was not on duty came up to the wide deck over the engine, and most of the passengers assembled there likewise. Never was there a more attentive congregation. Cousin Giles read part of the Church of England Liturgy, and then spoke to them from the fifteenth chapter of Saint John's Gospel: "I am the true vine." Those who heard him said that he explained the subject well, and that what he said went to their hearts. The reason of this was, that he was deeply in earnest, and anxious about the souls of his hearers. The master began even to think that he was a parson in disguise.

The steamer passed several islands, and on Monday was running up the Baltic in a perfect calm, the hot sun striking down on her decks, with its shining brightness dazzling the eyes of the passengers, the numerous vessels they passed having their canvas hanging idly down against their masts.

On Tuesday morning they were at the entrance of the Gulf of Finland, and in the evening they were passing the island of Nargen, with the town of Revel, just rising out of the water, seen through their glasses beyond it on the starboard hand.

The morning of Wednesday broke cold and grey, but in the forenoon the sun burst forth and shone brightly; and the sea was rippled over by a westerly breeze, which increased every hour in strength, and carried before it numberless vessels of all nations and rigs, though the galliots of Holland undoubtedly predominated. About noon, in this numerous company, they passed the lighthouse on the island of Tolbuken, which was held by the English during the late war, and whence the British officers with their glasses could discover all that was going on behind the batteries of Cronstadt. At about half-past one, a gun fired across the bows of the steamer by the Russian guardship hinted to her that she must heave-to; which being done, some officers came on board to examine her papers and the passengers' passports, to drink the master's wine, or spirits, or bottled ale, and carry away any gunpowder or fireworks which might be on board. Ahead lay a large Russian fleet of line-of-battle ships, frigates, steamers, brigs, and schooners, now at length able to show their noses out of port; while a little way beyond rose those formidable batteries which had so lately, by their very appearance, been able to damp the ardour of some of England's naval chieftains. On the left side was the island of Cronstadt, with its fortifications, its town with its spires and domes, and its harbour, capable of sheltering a large man-of-war fleet; and on the right, opposite to it, were two circular batteries, which looked like huge white factories rising out of the water; only instead of windows, there were ports, while enormous guns in lieu of rainspouts crowned their summits, without even a parapet to hide their carriages. On the southern part of the chief island was a similar tower.

Most of the passengers had some favourite plan of their own for taking the fortress,--especially some commercial travellers, who were loud in their expressions of scorn at the want of success of Napier and Dundas, and the sad degeneracy of the British navy. Cousin Giles was much amused, and advised them to lay their plans before the English Government, and to offer their services as commanders-in-chief of her fleets and armies.

As the vessels steamed on, the travellers had on their left side the rocky and wood-covered heights of Finland, between which and the island of Cronstadt there is a narrow but tolerably deep passage. Through this passage, which was unknown to the Russians themselves, the English admiral proposed to send up a fleet of gun-boats and small steamers had the attack on the fortress been resolved on. On the right hand from this entrance into the Gulf of Finland they had had the province of Esthonia. They now had that of Saint Petersburg, the shores of which appeared high and well wooded. They by this time had reached what may be considered nearly the end of the Gulf of Finland; for, although above Cronstadt there is still a fine expanse of water, it is generally very shallow, there being only a narrow and intricate channel, worked by the strong current of the Neva.

Among the various craft they passed, they were much amused by the little Finnish schooners, which went careering on before the breeze, laden chiefly with firewood, or some other not very valuable cargo, for the Saint Petersburg markets. They were built of fir, with very little paint, very few ropes, and had very white canvas. Altogether they had, as Cousin Giles observed, an exceedingly fresh-water look about them. The Finns who manned them were, however, hardy fellows, and formed by far the best seamen on board the Russian men-of-war. The Russians are not good salt-water sailors; they have no taste for the sea, and are not likely to obtain it. Peter the Great tried to form a navy. He succeeded in building ships, but it was quite a different thing when he tried to find seamen to man them. A gentleman on board told the lads a story, and they much wished to know if he could vouch for its truth. The late Emperor Nicholas on some occasion wanted to send a line-of-battle ship in a hurry to sea. No men were to be found. The Emperor was indignant that anything should oppose his imperial will. He stormed and raged; but even to appease his wrath no men could be made to rise out of the earth. At last his eyes fell on a regiment of dragoons who were defiling slowly by.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, as a bright thought struck him, "why should not those tall fellows make good seamen?" He called the colonel to him. "Colonel," said he; "order your men to dismount, and do you and your officers lead them on board that ship, and get her under weigh immediately. There is no time to be lost. You'll have something to learn, probably; but that does not matter--it is my will--do it."

The poor colonel knew that there was no use expostulating. The men were ordered aloft--cocked hats, jack-boots, and spurs. Up they went, the upper ones with their dreadful spurs catching those following by eyes, or noses, or mouths; and the surprising thing was that any got up at all. There is, however, nothing that a Russian cannot do, in a way, when put to it. The topsails were at length loosed, the anchor was got up, and the ship was actually under weigh; but where she went to, or if she ever went anywhere at all, their friend could not exactly say.

All this time the steamer was passing among the Russian men-of-war. Some of them were huge, towering line-of-battle ships, and all of them, outwardly at least, were in prime order. At length the steamer ran in past a high white tower between two piers, the screw stopped, she was hauled alongside a wharf, and the voyage was ended. Instantly she was filled with men in grey and blue uniforms. They were custom-house officers, who came professedly to prevent smuggling, but in reality to collect any fees they could pick up.

The travellers now heard for the first time the incomprehensible sounds of the Russian language, while their eyes were amused with the various and strange costumes of the wild-looking shouting people who surrounded them. Some of the officers had shaven chins, but most of the people had long beards, and straggling hair flowing from beneath their caps; but, unattractive as were their countenances generally, they wore an aspect of good-nature and simplicity which made amends for their ugliness.

In a short time a little steamer came alongside the _Ladoga_, into which the passengers and their luggage were transferred, to be conveyed up to Saint Petersburg under charge of a party of the militarily-equipped custom-house officers. The little satellite shoved off from the side of the big steamer, the master stood on the taffrail with his hat in his hand, the passengers waved theirs; and thus they bade farewell, most of them for ever, to the ill-fated _Ladoga_. After leaving the mole, they passed along the wharves of the Imperial Dockyard, within which were collected a great number of line-of-battle ships and frigates laid up in ordinary, which, as Fred said, looked like idle sulky fellows shut up in a poor-house with nothing to do.

"Very fine ships," said Cousin Giles; "but without the men to handle them, in spite of their long guns, they are like dogs with broken legs: they may bark and howl, and gnash their teeth, but they can do no further harm. We should not despise Russia, but we need not be frightened at her."

Their helmsman, who stood with the tiller between his legs, with his hands crossed and hid in his "Bosom," was a picture in himself. A low cap covered a head of shaggy reddish hair, while his thick straggly beard was of the same hue. His upper man was clothed in a coarse white jersey, beneath which appeared the tail of a red-striped shirt, while his widish green cloth trousers were tucked in high leather black boots. He was a fine big fellow, and had a seaman's air about him, so that he might have served as a model of a Scandinavian rover ten centuries ago. There were a number of other, to the young travellers, strange-looking figures, helmeted, long-cloaked, thick-bearded and moustached beings, who, with piles of luggage, crowded the decks; and in this numerous company away they hurried towards the modern capital of the Czars. _

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