The spring set in cold and stormy, and it was a very bad lambing-time for the ewes. Farmer Ridley was more anxious for their well-doing than usual, and, in taking care of some of the early new-fallen lambs, he caught a bad cold, attended with ague, which hung on him through the two succeeding months; and before May came with all her flowers, even the inexperienced eyes of his grandchildren read, in his sunken temples and hollow cheeks, that the mortal foe within would soon rob them of their venerable protector. Arthur's father had pa.s.sed the winter in Hamburgh, and was now expected home every day. Mr. Ridley wished much to behold his son once more in this world; and he seemed to linger from hour to hour, in the hope of seeing him again; till, about eventide, on the 2nd of May, his last minutes drew to a close. "Arthur," he said, in a faint voice. Arthur started from the place where he was leaning his head against the cas.e.m.e.nt, and approached the bed.

"Arthur," he said, "your father is away; but tell him from me to take care of your aunt Rachel and your cousin Phoebe: I have little to leave them; for the farm is entailed on my eldest son, and must descend to you. Tell him that my dying request is, that he will never suffer them to want a home. They will find, in my oaken box, eighty guineas in a yellow canvas bag, and my will, which directs the money to be divided between them. And now, Arthur, my dear boy, you have ever been a dutiful child to me; be the same to your father, whatever his commands may be, and make it your rule to do your duty in that state of life unto which it may please G.o.d to call you."

The rising sun beamed on the bed of death; the venerable Mr. Ridley was no more! And his sorrowing family were not to be consoled. The next Sunday, they followed his remains to the grave. It was in vain that the first day of early summer smiled on them, and that between every solemn response of the burial service the blackbird sang loud and joyously; their hearts no longer leaped to the sound once so full of delight.

"Oh, Arthur," said Phoebe, as her tears fell on her black sleeve, "we shall never see May-flowers again without mourning!"

Three melancholy days pa.s.sed on, before Arthur could resume his former employments; but on the evening of the fourth, after he had folded his sheep, he returned home, expecting to see aunt Rachel busy in preparing the milk-porridge for their supper, and Phoebe watering the flowers, or gathering salad in the garden. Phoebe was not there. He lifted the latch of the door; his cousin was laying the cloth, and aunt Rachel was roasting a fowl for supper. In the chimney-corner, and in his grandfather's high-backed chair, sat his father. Walter Ridley's stern features were softened by an expression of grief; he looked more kindly on his son than he had ever done before; and Arthur thought that when time had whitened his thick black hair, and dimmed the fire of his dark eyes, he would resemble in person his lamented grandfather.

Captain Ridley was very kind to his sister-in-law and niece; and when Arthur told him the last request of his father, he patted Phoebe's curly head, and said:

"Never fear, pretty one, I'll take care of you and your mother; you shall never want for a shilling, whilst Wat Ridley has one, if it's only for the sake of poor brother Hugh. Your uncle Hugh was a brave fellow, Arthur! I wish I could see some of his manly spirit in you, boy!--So, sister Rachel, you shall live in the farm, and look after the kine and sheep, and live as comfortably as you can. If you have a shiner or two over and above at the end of the year for me, it's all very well; and if you have not, I shan't complain; so don't starve your little one here.

And when Arthur and I come back, after roving the salt waters for five or six years, mayhap we may stay at home for good; that is, if Phoebe should like the lad for a husband, and he should fancy her."

Rachel thanked her brother-in-law for his kindness towards her and her child; but Arthur, though much pleased with his father's intentions in respect to his cousin, did not like what he said about the sea.

"Are you determined that I shall be a sailor?" he asked, in a disconsolate voice.

"Hark'e, boy," said Captain Ridley; "I am determined to make a man of you. So don't let's have any puling and muling, but pluck up a good heart: and if you be a coward, don't show it. I have bought a good tight ship at Hamburgh, and have laid out all my earnings for these twenty years, that I may be owner of the vessel I sail in; she is freighted with a valuable cargo, and will soon sail for Norway; and you are to have a berth in her: so say no more, for I have made up my mind on the matter."

Arthur submitted in silence; for he well remembered the last words of his grandfather, and made up his mind to obey his father, let his will be what it would; besides, he was very grateful for the kindness shown to his aunt and cousin. "I shall leave them in the bosom of our peaceful home," thought he; "so I must not displease my father, for he must have a good heart to be so kind to them."

In two days, Captain Ridley declared his intention of being off, as he called it. In vain Rachel and Phoebe pleaded for time to make Arthur some new shirts, and pack up different things that he would want during a sea-voyage.

"No, no," said Captain Ridley; "the boy has been made too much of a pet and cosset already. I shall fit him out with check-shirts and blue jackets at Newcastle. I'll make a brave fellow of him, I warrant you.

There's been too many parsons and farmers among the Ridleys. n.o.body would believe they came of the same bold fellows who used to ride the border some three hundred years ago. Who ever heard of a boy making a brave, manly character, who spent his time lounging at the tails of two or three kine or sheep? So, Arthur, my boy, your aunt and cousin will find you quite a different sort of a lad when you come home from your first voyage."

The next morning Arthur bade adieu, with a heavy heart, to the home he loved so much; and kissed his good aunt and the weeping Phoebe, with tears in his eyes; but he durst not cry, for fear of bringing on himself the rough taunts of his father. Captain Ridley had been to the village church-yard that morning, to visit the new-made grave of his father; he there remembered that he had not always been the most dutiful of sons to him who now slept beneath the green turf; and he felt half inclined to fulfil what he knew was his departed father's wish, and suffer Arthur to remain at home and look after the farm: but then he thought again, that when he grew old, and left off going to sea, and came to live at home, there would be no one to talk to him of seafaring matters: so he hardened his heart against the tears and entreaties of Phoebe and her mother, and took Arthur to Newcastle, where his ship, the Aurora, lay in harbour, ready to sail.

Arthur found this new mode of life even more disagreeable than he had imagined; however, he made a resolution to go through all that was required of him with uncomplaining patience, and to shrink from none of the hardships of his situation. Neither his father nor any of the crew were disposed to lighten his difficulties; all were on the watch to jeer at the mistakes of the young landsman; not but they were a little surprised to see him go through the first seasoning of a seafaring life with so much spirit. The sailors, naturally generous and frank, in a little time began to look on him with more favourable eyes, particularly an old friend of his father's, who sailed in the Aurora as mate.

"Well, Captain," said he one day, as he saw Arthur aloft, and going through his duties with great adroitness, "what do you think of our young seaman now? To my mind, he will turn out as brave a fellow as ever stepped between stem and stern."

"He is better than might be expected from his breeding," returned Captain Ridley: "but I doubt he will turn out a sad chicken-hearted thing in time of danger."

"We shall see," said the mate: "but if young Arthur don't show more spirit than many of those who talk big and bl.u.s.ter, never believe a word that old Jack Travers says to you again."

"Well, well, old shipmate, I wish it may be as you say; but, I own, I have not such good hopes of him."

Arthur soon found a good friend in Jack Travers, who was determined that he should not disgrace his predictions. During their voyage to Norway, he taught Arthur to keep the log-book, to take the sun's meridian alt.i.tude, to navigate the ship, and to perform the duties of a complete seaman.

Travers had spent the chief part of his life at sea, and had seen and suffered much. He had twice lost his all by shipwreck, and had once been taken prisoner by the French; he had of course seen a great deal of the world, and had made many intelligent observations on the countries where fortune had thrown him; and was intimately acquainted with the customs and manners of the people whose sh.o.r.es they were now approaching.

One summer night, when Arthur and Travers were on the watch together, Travers began to tell him of all he had suffered by storm and wreck, in the course of a long and disastrous life. "The last ship I sailed in,"

said he, "the unfortunate Daedalus, was wrecked on one of the small islands that stud the coast of Norway, off Drontheim. Now, there was no very good understanding between the English and the subjects of the King of Denmark, because of the battle of Copenhagen, the carnage of which was so great as to occasion general mourning and sorrow throughout Denmark and Norway. However, the brave Norwegians did not look upon us in the light of enemies, but as suffering and shipwrecked men, and treated us most kindly during the time we remained with them; which was more than three of their winter months. A merchant of Drontheim gave me a berth in a ship of his, that was bound to Hamburgh; and there I met with your father, Arthur, who never was yet the man to see an old shipmate in distress without giving a helping hand. He offered to put me as mate in the Aurora, which he had just purchased. So here I am; but whether my bad fortune will pursue me still, I know not."

"I hope not," said Arthur; "for it is hard, at your time of life, to be without the means of obtaining those comforts you will soon greatly need: but did you not spend your time very miserably, to pa.s.s so many months in a strange country, the language of which was unknown to you?"

"As for that," returned Travers, "thank G.o.d! I am not given to be very miserable anywhere. A seaman, who knows his duty, bears cheerfully whatever hap Heaven may send him. But in fact, I never pa.s.sed any time pleasanter than I did in Norway. We were quartered on the farmers and pilots who inhabited the coast where we were thrown. The good people, instead of murmuring at the burden of our maintenance, came down with their sledges, and contended whose home should afford shelter to the shipwrecked strangers. I was not willing to eat the bread of idleness, so I lent a helping hand to whatever work was going forward. As to language, I found the inhabitants of the sea-coast very familiar with the English tongue; and I knew a little German, by reason of trading to Hamburgh; so, between the two, we made out very well. The coast of Norway is tremendous to the sailor at the fall of the year, when the equinoctial winds begin to blow; as you will judge when I tell you the observations I have made during my acquaintance with it. The coast extending upwards of three hundred leagues, is beset with a mult.i.tude of small islands, affording habitations to fishermen and pilots, and pasture to a few cattle. They form an infinite number of narrow channels, and a natural barrier of rocks, which render Norway inaccessible to the naval power of its enemies. Attempts of this kind are the more dangerous, as the sh.o.r.e is generally bold, steep, and impending; so that, close to the rocks, the depth of the sea amounts to one hundred, two hundred, and even three hundred fathoms. You may easily judge of the fate of the unfortunate ship that is hurled by tempests against any of these frightful rocks: if she breaks, she instantly fills, and must go down into a dreadful depth of water; and it is only by the most signal mercy that any of the crew is ever saved. The perils of the North Sea are also increased by sudden streams, sunk rocks, violent currents, and dreadful whirlpools. The most remarkable vortex on the coast is called Moskoestrom, from the small island Moskoe, belonging to the district Lofoden. In time of flood, the stream runs up between Lofoden and Moskoe, with the most boisterous rapidity; but in its ebb to the sea it roars like a hundred cataracts, so as to be heard at the distance of many leagues. On the surface are many vortices; and if in one of those any ship be absorbed, it is whirled down to the bottom, and dashed in pieces against the rocks.

"When its fury has been heightened by a storm, no vessel ought to venture within a league of it. Whales are frequently absorbed within the vortex, and howl and bellow hideously during their fruitless endeavours to free themselves. A bear, in attempting to swim from Lofoden to Moskoe, was once hurried to this whirlpool, from which he struggled in vain for deliverance, roaring so loud as to be heard on sh.o.r.e; but, notwithstanding all his efforts, he was borne down and destroyed. Large trees, being drawn into the current, are sucked down, and rise again all shattered to splinters. There are three vortices of the same kind near the islands of Ferroe."

Before the vessel reached Christiania, the short northern summer had commenced in all its beauty. Arthur had expected to see an icy, desolate coast; he could not think that fair sunny days would smile so far northwards; and when the Aurora entered the bay of Christiana, he could scarcely believe it was the port to which they were bound.

Before them lay the town of Christiana, situated at the extremity of an extensive and fertile valley, forming a semicircular bend along the sh.o.r.e of the beautiful bay. The grounds, laid out in rich enclosures, gradually sloped to the sea. Behind, before, and around appeared the inland mountains of Norway, covered with dark forests of pines and fir, the inexhaustible riches of the North. The most distant summits were capped with perpetual snows. From the glow of the atmosphere, the warmth of the weather, the variety of the productions, and the mild beauties of the adjacent scenery, it was hardly possible to believe that they were nearly under the sixtieth degree of lat.i.tude.[8]

[Footnote 8: c.o.x's Travels.]

"Is it possible?" said Arthur, as he stood on deck by the side of Travers; "can this blooming land be one of the coldest and most barren regions of the North?"

"Ah," said Travers; "but you see it in the midst of its short, lovely summer; its aspect would be bleak and horrid, were you to visit it during the nine winter months. Were you to hear the roaring of the winds among the mountains, the fall of great heaps of snow, and oftentimes of huge ma.s.ses of stone and rocks from their heights--sometimes choking up the course of rivers, and overwhelming the cottages of the peasants--you would then hardly believe that the return of the sun could produce so much beauty as you now see before you."

"I have heard," said Arthur, "that, farther to the North, the sun never sets in the height of summer, nor rises in the depth of winter."

"I have been at Tronsen,"[9] said Travers, "near the northern extremity of this country, where the sun is continually in view at midsummer; I have seen it circulate day and night round the North Pole, contracting its...o...b..t, and then gradually enlarging it, until it leaves the horizon.

In the depth of the winter, therefore, it is for some weeks invisible: and all the light perceived at noon is a faint glimmering, for about one hour and a half, which proceeds from the sun's rays being reflected from the highest mountains. But the inhabitants have other lights, by which they follow their work in the open air. The sky being very clear, the moonshine is remarkably bright: they are likewise much a.s.sisted by the Northern Lights,[10] which are very frequent in these parts of Europe."

[Footnote 9: Encyclopaedia Britannica.]

[Footnote 10: Otherwise called Aurora Borealis.]

"My grandfather showed me the Northern Lights once, in c.u.mberland," said Arthur; "and told me they signified that something very dreadful would soon happen to the country; for they were never seen but when famine, or plagues or rebellions were about to come to pa.s.s. What do you think about it, Travers? are such bad things very common in Norway?"

"Not that ever I heard," returned Travers. "Indeed, the poor people would be in a desperate way, if they were to have plagues and battles every time they saw the Northern Lights. Why, Arthur, they see them as often as we see the stars in England; and I have read, on a Sunday night, the psalm for the day out of my prayer-book, as plain in the open air, at ten o'clock, as ever I did by a candle. But that's the way with you landsmen: you sit at home and scare yourselves, and shake your wise heads, and prophesy evil, if a little glimmer reaches you of what is as common as the air you breathe in other countries."

Arthur did not greatly approve of hearing the opinion of his venerated grandfather treated with so much contempt: yet he plainly saw the folly of converting into an omen of ill a harmless and beautiful meteor; which is a blessing, as common as it is useful, in a country a few degrees farther to the north.

Captain Ridley soon became very busy in disposing of his cargo, and buying the different commodities that Norway produces, to reload his vessel with. He bought copper, and iron forged into bars, (the iron of Sweden and Norway is esteemed very good--much better than any England produces;) marble he used for ballasting the ship; he likewise bought goat-skins, and seal-skins, and some very valuable furs of the fox and marten, of which he expected to make a great deal of money in England.

Another article of commerce, which is sold to great advantage in England, Captain Ridley made part of his cargo, viz. eider-down feathers.[11] He gave his son leave to purchase what pleased him most, to take home as presents for his aunt and cousin. Arthur accordingly bought a handsome fur cloak for aunt Rachel, and some curious baskets made of birch-bark, and beautifully wrought with coloured quills, for Phoebe. They pa.s.sed about two months in Norway: by the expiration of which time Captain Ridley had completed his lading, and got everything ready for returning to England.

[Footnote 11: The mollissima, or eider-duck, is double the size of the common duck. The feathers, which are soft and valuable, fall off during incubation. The male is white above, but black below and behind; the female is greenish. This species is found in the Western Isles of Scotland, but in greater numbers in Norway, Iceland, and Greenland; from whence vast quant.i.ties of the down, known by the name of _eider_, or _edder_, (which these birds furnish,) is annually imported. Its warm, light, and elastic qualities, make it highly esteemed as stuffings for coverlets and down beds. This down is produced from the breast of the birds, in the breeding season. The eider-duck lays its eggs among the stones or plants near the sh.o.r.e, and prepares a soft bed for them by plucking the down from its own breast; the natives watch the opportunity, and take away both eggs and nest. The duck lays again, and repeats the plucking of its breast. If she is robbed after that, she will still lay; but the drakes must supply the down, as her stock is now exhausted: but, if her eggs are taken from her a fourth time, she wholly deserts the place. The number of eggs in each nest are from three to five, warmly bedded in down; they are of a pale olive colour, and very large, glossy, and smooth. The ducks now and then, however, lay as many as eight, for sixteen have been found in one nest, with two females sitting on them, who agree remarkably well together. They take their young on their backs to sea; then dive to shake them off, and teach them to shift for themselves. They live on sh.e.l.l-fish, for which they dive to great depths. The males are five years old before they come to their full colours. It is said they live to a great age, and grow quite grey.]

Arthur's heart bounded with joy as the sails were set for England; and he now looked forward with sensations of pleasure towards the continuance of the life which his father had chosen for him. He had gained experience and knowledge, and felt happy that he had obeyed his parent, however distasteful his commands were at first. Captain Ridley was very proud of his ship; her clever sailing and tight figure were the perpetual theme of his discourse and admiration: he was, besides, in excellent spirits on another account; for he felt confident that he had laid out his money to great advantage in the cargo, and expected a clear profit of several hundreds.

They ran before a favourable gale for some days, till, one clear lovely morning, as Captain Ridley was standing on deck talking over his expected gains with Arthur, Travers called from the main-top, "Look abaft, Captain; for I think we are chased?" Ridley flew to his cabin, and returning with his telescope, plainly saw a ship bearing down before the wind, in full pursuit of them. All hands instantly went to work, to raise every bit of canvas the Aurora could carry; and as she was a swift-sailing vessel, they had hopes that she would keep ahead of the enemy until night came on, when she might elude the pursuit under the shades of darkness. But, alas! the same gale which bore the Aurora so bravely along, brought her lightly-laden pursuer more swiftly after her.

At length, after a hard chase, and a day of the most agonizing suspense to our poor countrymen, about sunset their fate seemed decided, when the adverse ship bore down upon them within hail, and fired a gun to bring them to. The crew of the Aurora still ventured to hope that, after all, she might be a neutral ship; but the experienced eye of Travers had from the first noted all her bearings, and felt convinced that she was a French privateer; which was soon confirmed by her hoisting the tri-coloured flag, and preparing to board. To resist was utterly useless, as a single broadside from the armed ship would have soon settled the fray: and Captain Ridley saw his favourite ship the prey of the most lawless and insolent crew that ever manned a privateer!

To a man of Ridley's violent pa.s.sions, this stroke was worse than death; but his indignant expressions were only answered by laughter and mockery from the enemies into whose hands he had fallen, and who added insult and ill-usage to the calamities of war. It was at that period of the French Revolution when the war was carried on between the two nations with a fury scarcely known in modern times, and the animosity of the French towards our country knew no bounds.

There could scarcely be a more dreadful situation than that of the crew of this defenceless merchant ship, which had fallen into the hands of men whose bad pa.s.sions were inflamed by national hatred. For many hours, the English expected every moment to be their last. Outrage succeeded outrage, and ma.s.sacre seemed resolved on; but at last, after many blows and much reviling, the privateers contented themselves with thrusting their prisoners, strongly ironed, into the hold. These were horrors of which poor Arthur had never even dreamed; yet, in the terrors of that dreadful night, there was a satisfaction to his well-regulated mind in the consciousness that he was near his suffering parent, and could offer all the consolation that can be received from the affection of a dutiful child. And, truly, Captain Ridley had great need of it.

Neglected by the ruffians who had conquered them, they were left without food; and, what was infinitely more needful, without water. This, joined to want of air, (the hatches being close shut down,) made their situation almost equal to that of the prisoners in the black hole at Calcutta.

Walter Ridley had hitherto been a fortunate man in life: where others had met with storms and capture, he had sailed securely and prosperously. This he did not fail to attribute to his own wisdom and merit, instead of ascribing it to the protecting hand of a bountiful Providence; therefore, when this reverse of fortune came, he received it with transports of rage, instead of patience and resignation. The violence of his emotions, and the confinement and ill usage he underwent, had such an effect on his frame, that, long before the morning, he was attacked by a dangerous illness. Poor Arthur sat by him, holding his burning hands, and offering his bosom as a pillow to his aching head; nor could the wild and frantic exclamations, uttered in the delirium of fever, affright the affectionate boy from the side of his suffering father.

The next day had nearly pa.s.sed, before the captors thought fit to take any notice of their prisoners; they then resolved to divide the English crew; for as the captain of the French privateer determined to cruise in search of fresh prey, he did not choose to enc.u.mber himself with his prize.

Seven of Captain Ridley's crew were carried on board the privateer; and himself, Travers, and Arthur, were left below, with two sailors, in the hold. The French captain put his mate and a few seamen on board the Aurora, just sufficient to navigate her into Dunkirk, and proceeded on his cruise. The situation of the prisoners was now a little improved: for the mate, to whose charge they were committed, took off the fetters from Captain Ridley and Travers, and allowed them better berths; and when Arthur, by signs, made him understand how ill his father was, he gave him some wine, and suffered him to occupy the cabin that had formerly been his own. For some days, Arthur thought it impossible for his father to live, as his illness was violent, and he had no medical a.s.sistance; yet the strength of his const.i.tution was such, that in a few days he pa.s.sed the crisis of the fever favourably, and got a little better, though he remained as weak and feeble as an infant. Travers kept up his own and Arthur's spirits with the hope that they might fall in with some British cruiser and be retaken; but, however probable such a circ.u.mstance was, yet day pa.s.sed after day, and they still remained captives, until it was reckoned that another or two would bring them into a French port. Arthur's mild manners and affectionate attention to his sick father induced the French mate to permit him to come when he pleased on deck; and one morning, after he had watched by his father till he fell asleep, he asked Travers to supply his place while he went on deck to take a little fresh air. He sat down on a chest, after he had paced to and fro in a very melancholy mood, and began to muse sorrowfully on the case they were in. "Here," thought he, "my poor father will be dragged to a French prison, and there he must die; for, in his weak state, the hardships he will have to go through will certainly kill him; and, perhaps, I shall never see England, nor my home, nor my cousin Phoebe again! Is there no remedy to be found for all this?"