True Blue

True Blue, by W.H.G. Kingston

The Project Gutenberg EBook of True Blue, by W.H.G. Kingston This
eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: True Blue
Author: W.H.G. Kingston
Release Date: May 15, 2007 [EBook #21481]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRUE
BLUE ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

True Blue--A British Seaman of the Old School
by W.H.G. Kingston.
From an Introduction by Herbert Strang.
The present volume gives a capital description of life in the Navy in

days of the old three-decker, and many interesting particulars of the
naval warfare in the revolutionary period, including the battle of the
"glorious first of June." It differs from the average boys' story in one
important respect. The hero, instead of gaining a title and a fortune,
refuses to rise above the class in which he was born, and attains no
higher rank than that of a warrant-officer. The author skilfully
introduces little touches and incidents, such as True Blue's conduct
when at a theatrical performance, which make his career seem entirely
natural and reasonable, and enlists the sympathy and approval of the
reader. "He had not aimed high, in one sense of the word," says
Kingston in the closing pages, "and yet he had in another sense always
aimed high and nobly--to do his duty." In Kingston's eyes no mariner,
nor any other man, could have higher praise.
TRUE BLUE--BY W.H.G. KINGSTON.
CHAPTER ONE.
TRUE BLUE--A BRITISH SEAMAN OF THE OLD SCHOOL.
The old Terrible, 74, was ploughing her way across the waters of the
Atlantic, now rolling and leaping, dark and angry, with white-crested
seas which dashed against her bows and flew in masses of foam over
her decks. She was under her three topsails, closely reefed; but even
thus her tall masts bent, and twisted, and writhed, as if striving to leap
out of her, while every timber and bulkhead fore and aft creaked and
groaned, and the blocks rattled, and the wind roared and whistled
through the rigging in chorus; and the wild waves rolled and tumbled
the big ship about, making her their sport, as if she was a mere
cock-boat.
Stronger and stronger blew the gale; darkness came on and covered the
world of waters, and through that darkness the ship had to force her
way amid the foaming, hissing seas. Darker and darker it grew, till the
lookout men declared that they might as well have shut their eyes, for
they could scarcely make out their own hands when held at arm's length
before their noses.

Suddenly, however, the darkness was dispelled by the vivid flashes of
lightning, which, darting from the low hanging clouds, circled about
their heads, throwing a lurid glare on the countenances of all on deck.
Once more all was dark; then again the forked lightning burst forth
hissing and crackling through the air, leaping along the waves and
playing round the quivering masts. Now the big ship plunged into the
trough of the sea with a force which made it seem as if she was never
going to rise again; but up the next watery height she climbed, and
when she got to the top, she stopped as if to look about her, while the
lightning flashed brighter than ever; and then, rolling and pitching, and
cutting numerous other antics, she lifted up her stern as if she was
going to give a vicious fling out with her heels, and downwards she
plunged into the dark obscurity, amid the high foam-topped seas, which
hissed and roared high above her bulwarks. Her crew walked her deck
with but little anxiety, although they saw that the gale was likely to
increase into a hurricane; for they had long served together, they knew
what each other was made of, and they had confidence in their officers
and in the stout ship they manned.
The watch below had hitherto remained in their hammocks, and most
of them, in spite of the gale, slept as soundly as ever. What cared they
that the ship was roiling and tumbling about? They knew that she was
watertight and strong, that she had plenty of sea-room, and that they
would be roused up quickly enough if they were wanted. There was one
person, however, who did not sleep soundly--that was her Captain,
Josiah Penrose. He could not forget that he had the lives of some eight
hundred beings committed to his charge, and he knew well that, even
on board a stout ship with plenty of sea-room, an accident might