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
From some information which the captain obtained in the prize, he was
induced to stand over towards the Balearic Islands. We made Ivica, and
stood past it; then ran for Palma Bay, in the island of Majorca; here we
found nothing, to our great disappointment, and continued our course
round the island.
An event occurred here, so singular as scarcely to be credible; but the
fact is well attested, as there were others who witnessed it beside
myself. The water was smooth, and the day remarkably fine; we were
distant from the shore more than a mile and a quarter, when the captain,
wishing to try the range of the main deck guns, which were long
eighteen-pounders; ordered the gunner to elevate one of them, and fire
it towards the land. The gunner asked whether he should point the gun
at any object. A man was seen walking on the white sandy beach, and as
there did not appear to be the slightest chance of hitting him, for he
only looked like a speck, the captain desired the gunner to fire at him;
he did so, and the man fell. A herd of bullocks at this moment was seen
coming out of the woods, and the boats were sent with a party to shoot
some of them for the ship's company.
When we landed we found that the ball had cut the poor man in two; and
what made the circumstance more particularly interesting was that he was
evidently a man of consequence. He was well dressed, had on black
breeches and silk stockings; he was reading Ovid's Metamorphoses, and
still grasped the book, which I took out of his hand.
We have often heard of the miraculous powers ascribed to a chance shot,
but never could we have supposed that this devilish ball could have gone
so far, or done so much mischief. We buried the remains of the
unfortunate gentleman in the sand; and having selected two or three
bullocks out of the herd, shot them, skinned and divided them into
quarters, loaded our boat, and returned on board. I had taken the book
out of the hand of the deceased, and from his neck a small miniature of
a beautiful female. The brooch in his shirt I also brought away; and
when I gave an account to the captain of what had happened, I offered
him these articles. He returned them all to me, desired me to keep them
until I could see any of the friends of the deceased, and appeared so
much distressed at the accident, that we never mentioned it afterwards;
and in the course of the time we were together, it was nearly forgotten.
The articles remained in my possession unnoticed for many years.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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