Frank Mildmay; Or, the Naval OfficerMarryat, Frederick
History
Frank Mildmay; Or, the Naval Officer
Marryat, Frederick
Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 19th century -- Fiction; Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Officers -- Fiction; Sea stories
As I went up the side, I was received by the captain and officers in the
most flattering manner; the captain thanked me in the presence of the
ship's company for my praiseworthy exertions, and I was gazed on by all
as an object of interest and admiration; but if others thought so of me,
I thought not so of myself. I retired below to my berth with a loathing
and contempt, a self-abasement, which I cannot describe. I felt myself
unworthy of the mercy I had received. The disgraceful and vicious
course of life I had led burst upon me with horrible conviction.
"_Caelo tonantem credidimus Jovem regnare_," says Horace; and it was
only by the excitement of such peculiarly horrid situations, that the
sense of a superintending power could be awakened within me, a hardened
and incorrigible sinner.
I changed my clothes, and was glad when night came, that I might be left
to myself; but oh, how infinitely more horrid did my situation appear!
I shuddered when I thought of what I had gone through, and I made the
most solemn promises of a new life. How transient were these feelings!
How long did these good resolutions last? Just as long as no temptation
came in the way; as long as there was no incitement to sin, no means of
gratifying appetite. My good intentions were traced in the sand. I was
very soon as thoughtless and as profane as ever, although frequently
checked by the remembrance of my providential escape; and for years
afterwards the thoughts of the shark taking me by the leg was
accompanied by the acknowledgment that the devil would have me in like
manner, if I did not amend.
If after this awakening circumstance I could have had the good fortune
to have met with sober-minded and religious people, I have no doubt but
I might have had at this time much less to answer for; but that not
being the case, the force of habit and example renewed its dominion over
me, and I became nearly as bad as ever.
Our amusements in the gun-room were rough. One of them was to lie on
the mess-table, under the tiller, and to hold by the tiller ropes above,
while we kicked at all who attempted to dislodge us, either by force or
stratagem. Whoever had possession had nine points of the law, and could
easily oppose the whole. I one day held this envied position, and kept
all at bay, when, unluckily, one of the passed midshipmen, who had got
very drunk with the gunner, came in and made a furious attack on me. I
gave him a kick on the face that sent him with great violence on his
back, among the plates and dishes, which had been removed from the
dinner-table and placed between the guns. Enraged, as much at the
laughter against him as at the blow he had received, he snatched up a
carving-fork, and, before any one was aware of his intention, stabbed me
with it four times. I jumped up to punish him, but the moment I got on
my legs, was so stiff, that I fell back into the arms of my mess-mates.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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