Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 16
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 16
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
fellow moved on, he was reported to the officer on duty as mutinous,
tied to the grating, and received a dozen or two. Our provisions too
were very scanty, and not of the best quality; while a complaint would
have been mutiny. Before we reached the Island of Jamaica, custom
overcame disgust. I saw, besides, that it was the rule of the
service--officers were not, in their station, better off than the men;
midshipmen were cobbed or ordered aloft with as little compunction or
inquiry as the men were flogged. The only individual on board who stood
not in fear of some other alongside was the captain; yet he feared the
admiral, and the admiral crouched to the Lords of the Admiralty, who
succumbed to the ministry, who crouched to the king; and, as a landsman
on board a man-of-war, all being in a circle, I was next to him again to
complete it. The whole I saw to be an intricate system of coercion and
discipline; and I submitted with all the cheerfulness I could; but there
was a messmate of mine, who claimed the sympathy I disregarded. Poor
James! I am to this hour sad when I think of him. Who or what he was I
never knew; for his years, he was the best learned and most intelligent
person I have ever met with in the world. Every genteel accomplishment
was his. About two years my senior, he was an age in advance of me; and
I looked up to him with a reverence I have never felt since for any
human being, as we have sat on a gun-carriage, I listening to the
knowledge that flowed from his lips, and which he took a pleasure in
imparting to me. Thus, when it was not our watch, he stored my mind with
truths and information, both ancient and modern, the benefit of which I
feel even now. An exquisite draughtsman, he taught me the rudiments of
the art, and practice has done the rest. Yet he was secret as the grave
as to the cause of his sorrows; and though he knew that I wished to be
acquainted with his history, not through idle curiosity, but to console
him, if in my power, he shunned the subject. That he was born to a rank
far above that in which I knew him, both the officers and the men
allowed. He was prompt in his duties from an innate sense of honour; and
there was a lofty bearing in all he did--not the effect of an effort,
but of natural impulse--that extorted the respect of his shipmates;
though, of all men, sailors are the quickest at perceiving peculiarity
of character among themselves, and an appropriate sobriquet is generally
the consequence. To his officers he was as politely humble as the
strictest rules could require; but this manner was so different from the
uncouth and crouching humility of the other men, that a stranger would
have conceived he was the superior returning the civility. His soul was,
indeed, truly Roman, and superior to his fate. Whether that fall was the
effect of circumstances over which he had no control, or voluntarily
chosen, from some secret reason, he would never avow. Once I heard him
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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