Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 67, No. 416, June 1850Various
General
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 67, No. 416, June 1850
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
There was apparently a busy scene ashore, however, both in the little
town, which has scarce more than a single street, and along the quay,
full of residents, as well as passengers from two Indiamen lying
in-shore of us, while the Government esplanade seemed to be crowded
with ladies, listening to the regimental band under the trees. The
Newcastle frigate, with Sir Dudley Aldcombe's flag hoisted at her
mizen, was at anchor out abreast at Ladder Hill; and our first
lieutenant had scarce pulled aboard of the Hebe, which was hove-to
off the brig's quarter, before I noticed the Admiral's barge lying
alongside the Hebe. Seeing Mr Aldridge on his way back shortly after,
I came down the rigging, more anxious than ever to have my own matter
settled; indeed, Captain Wallis no sooner caught sight of my face,
uncomfortable as I daresay it looked, than he told me he was going
to wait on the Admiral aboard the Hebe, and would take me with him
at once, if I chose. For my part, I needed nothing but the leave,
and in ten minutes time I found myself, no small mark of curiosity,
betwixt the waist and the quarterdeck of the Hebe, where the officers
eyed me with as little appearance of rudeness as they could help,
and I overhauled the spars and rigging aloft as coolly as I could,
waiting to be sent for below. The Hebe, in fact, was the very beauty
of a twenty-eight; taking the shine, and the wind, too, clean out of
everything even at Plymouth, where I had seen her once a year or two
before: our poor dear old Iris herself had scarce such a pattern of
a hull, falling in, as it did, from the round swell of her bilge, to
just under the plank-sheer, and spreading out again with her bright
black top-sides, till where the figurehead shot over the cut-water,
and out of her full pair of bows, like a swan's neck out of its
breast. As for the Iris, our boatswain himself one day privately
confessed to me, almost with tears in his eyes, that she tumbled home
a thought too much just in front of the fore-chains, and he'd tried
to get it softened off with dead planking and paint, but it wouldn't
do; everybody saw through them. The truth was, to feel this fine ship
under one, with her loose topsails hanging high against the gloom of
the red gully towards Longwood, and the gay little town peeping just
over her larboard bow, a mile away, it somehow or other cleared one's
mind of a load. I was thinking already how, if one had the command of
such a craft, to do something with her at sea--hang it! but surely
that old Judge couldn't be too proud to give him a fair hearing. By
Jove! thought I--had one only wild enough weather, off the Cape,
say--if I wouldn't undertake to bother even a seventy-four a whole
voyage through, till she struck her flag; in which case a fellow
might really venture to hold his head up and speak his mind, lovely
as Violet Hyde would be in Calcutta. But then, again, _there_ was St
Helena towering red and rough over the ships, with the grand French
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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