James Braithwaite, the Supercargo | Page 4

up the search, when, as we were
near one of the large Indiamen I have mentioned, a vessel running past
compelled us to go close alongside. An officer was standing on the
accommodation-ladder, assisting up some passengers. He hailed one of
the people in the boat, about some luggage. I knew the voice, and,
looking more narrowly, I recognised, I thought, my old schoolfellow,
Jack Newall. I called him by name. "Who's that?" he exclaimed. "What,
Braithwaite, my fine fellow, what brings you out here?"
When I told him, "It is ten chances to one that you pick her out
to-night," he answered. "But come aboard; I can find you a berth, and
to-morrow morning you can continue your search. Depend on it your
ship forms one of our convoy, so that she will not sail without you."
I was too glad to accept Jack Newall's offer. Old Bob looked rather
disappointed at finding me snatched from his grasp, and volunteered to
come back early in the morning, and take me on board the Barbara,
promising in the meantime to find her out.
The sudden change from the little boat tumbling about in the dark to
the Indiaman's well-lighted cuddy, glittering with plate and glass, into
which my friend introduced me--filled, moreover, as it was, with
well-dressed ladies and gentlemen--was very startling. She was the
well-known Cuffnells, a ship of twelve hundred tons, one of the finest
of her class, and, curiously enough, was the very one which, two
voyages before, had carried my brother Frederick out to India.
I had never before been on board an Indiaman. Everything about her
seemed grand and ponderous, and gave me the idea of strength and
stability. If she was to meet with any disaster, it would not be for want
of being well found. The captain remembered my brother, and was very
civil to me; and several other people knew my family, so that I spent a
most pleasant evening on board, in the society of the nabobs and
military officers, and the ladies who had husbands and those who had
not, but fully expected to get them at the end of the voyage, and the
young cadets and writers, and others who usually formed the

complement of an Indiaman's passengers in those days. Everything
seemed done in princely style on board her. She had a crew of a
hundred men, a captain, and four officers, mates, a surgeon, and purser;
besides midshipmen, a boatswain, carpenter, and other petty officers. I
was invited to come on board whenever there was an opportunity
during the voyage.
"We are not cramped, you see," observed Newall, casting his eye over
the spacious decks, "so you will not crowd us; and if you cannot bring
us news, we can exchange ideas."
True to his word, old Bob came alongside the next morning, and told
me that he had found out the Barbara, and would put me on board in
good time for breakfast.
I found Captain Hassall very anxious at my non-appearance, and on the
point of sending the second officer on shore to look for me, as it was
expected that the convoy would sail at noon; indeed, the Active frigate,
which was to convoy us, had Blue Peter flying at her mast-head, as had
all the merchantmen.
"You'd have time to take a cruise about the fleet, and I'll spin you no
end of yarns if you like to come, sir," said old Bob, with a twinkle in
his eye, as his wherry was see-sawing alongside in a manner most
uncomfortable to a landsman.
"No, thank you, Bob; I must hear the end of your yarns when I come
back again to old England; I'll not forget you, depend on it."
Captain Hassall had not recovered his equanimity of temper, which had
been sorely ruffled at having had two of his best men taken off by a
press-gang. He had arrived on board in time to save two more who
would otherwise also have been taken. He inveighed strongly against
the system, and declared that if it was continued he would give up
England and go over to the United States. It certainly created a very
bad feeling both among officers and men in the merchant service.
While we were talking, the frigate which was to convoy us loosed her
topsails and fired a gun, followed soon after by another, as a signal to

way. The merchantmen at once began to make sail, not so quick an
operation as on board the man-of-war. The pipe played cheerily, round
went the capstan, and in short time we, with fully fifty other vessels,
many of them first-class Indiamen, with a fair breeze, were standing
down Channel; the sky bright, the sea blue, while their white sails,
towering upwards