Memoirs of the Extraordinary Military Career of John Shipp Part 17

On tracing the contents of the letter, when my eager eyes met the words "Dismissed the service," I could not repress the tear of anguish, nor refrain from indulging in the most unavailing grief. To wind up a military career like mine in this manner, was distressing indeed!

From the age of nine to forty-one, I had now been in the army--a period of thirty-two years. My services during that time are already before the reader. In the course of those services, I had received six matchlock-ball wounds:--

One through the forehead, just above my eyes, which has so impaired my sight, that I have been obliged to use gla.s.ses for some years past.

Two on the top of my head, from which have, at different times, been extracted sixteen pieces of bone. These two wounds, at every change of the weather, cause a most excruciating headache.

One in the fleshy part of the right arm.

One through the forefinger of my left hand. Of this finger I have entirely lost the use, and I am still obliged to nurse it with great care, several pieces of bone having been extracted from it, and some splinters, as I fear, being still remaining.

One in the fleshy part of the right leg.

I had also received a flesh wound in my left shoulder, with several other slighter wounds not worth particularizing.

The above wounds, except one, having been received prior to the munificent grant of his present Majesty to wounded officers, I never received a farthing remuneration, except ninety-six pounds for the last--a year's pay as ensign.

I confess, then, I had entertained a sanguine hope, that the extent and nature of my services, and the number of wounds I had received, would have more than outweighed the offence of which I had been convicted, and I felt the disappointment most acutely, and could not avoid giving vent to my agonized feelings. I was aroused by the endearing behaviour of my child, whose arms had, on his observing my grief, encircled my neck.

"What's the matter, father? you are always crying now, since mother is gone away," said he. This was touching a tenderer chord than the babe imagined, for he still supposed that his dear mother was gone for a time only, and his constant inquiries were when she would return. We were found in this state of woe by Captain Thomas Marshall, of the Bengal army, my neighbour. This officer was my neighbour indeed; for his kindness, and that of his amiable wife, towards me, were unabated and unceasing. In the affectionate bosom of this lady my orphan babe found a foster-mother, who shared with her infant, three days older than mine, the one half of its best comfort. Towards this dear and affectionate couple my heart will ever cherish the fond remembrance of grat.i.tude, and I hope this humble declaration may meet them in the far-distant clime in which they sojourn. When Captain Marshall saw the sentence, he turned from me, and walked into another room--for what purpose, I leave the sympathizing reader to guess. He soon returned to me, and said, "Come, Shipp, you have often mounted the breach of danger--cheer up--and recollect you have those dear babes to clothe and feed." Here my little boy, supposing that this was meant as a kind of rebuke, said, "I don't want anything to eat, Captain Marshall; therefore, don't cry." These are touches which the feeling heart can alone appreciate. To prevent, for the time, any further indulgence in sorrow, I was prevailed on to accompany my kind neighbour to his hospitable house, where I spent the day with him, and where a little musical party a.s.sembled in the evening, to rouse me from the state of despondency into which this last blow had plunged me. But all attempts to divert me from the recollections of my misfortunes were fruitless. Music and society but added to my pain; and I found that I was never, for a length of time, so composed as in those days and nights which I spent free from all company but that of my two motherless babes, with whom only I could, if I may so express myself, luxuriate in grief.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GHAUT ON THE GANGES.

From a Drawing by W. DANIELL, R.A.]

In one month after the confirmed sentence of the court-martial had been made known to me, I was compelled to obey the orders which I had received to repair to Calcutta, previous to embarkation for England. To enable me to comply with these directions, I was obliged to sacrifice all my property for a mere nothing, and I set out for the Presidency with my little boy, now my only comfort, having made the little infant over to my brother-in-law, J.P. Mellaird, Esq., indigo-planter Tirhoot, where his grandmother, somewhat recovered, found refuge also.

The voyage down the lonely river Ganges was not calculated to soothe my sorrows or to cheer my prospects. I reached Calcutta in safety, and remained there a considerable time waiting for a ship, where, strange to say, I received an order to proceed home with invalids, and to place myself immediately under the command of Captain Mathers, of his Majesty's 59th regiment. This order I was bound to obey; but it prevented me from bringing home my little boy, as every part of the ship was taken up for the troops, and the captain of the vessel would not accommodate me under a thousand rupees--a sum which I had not to give. A smaller foreign ship would have brought both myself and child home for what the Company allow for officers sent home--fifteen hundred rupees.

By this I was deprived of the satisfaction of bringing home my child, who remains in India with my brother-in-law to this day.

In the beginning of the month of April, 1825, I embarked on board the free-trader, _Euphrates_, Captain Mead commanding, with an insufficient crew, as they did not exceed twenty-three hands in all, and winter was before us for the whole voyage. This would not have been a very pleasant prospect to the shattered nerves of an old Indian; but mine, although I had been so many years in that hot country, did not come under that description, and I had learnt long since to endure hardships. I was never much addicted to look on the dark side of things, but now it was impossible to refrain from thinking of the situation in which I stood. I was proceeding to a country, and that country my native home; but it was not endeared to me by a solitary relative that I knew of. I could not help comparing the close of my military career with its commencement. I was then friendless and isolated; and who had I now but those who mourned my departure from a land which I was compelled to quit for ever?

I left England, when a child, without one friend or relative to bid me adieu, and I was now returning to it without one to bid me welcome! Yet there is something pleasing to every British bosom, in the antic.i.p.ation of returning to the land of one's birth; and, although my prospects were anything but bright, I felt, notwithstanding, that I could be content to live in my native country, even in poverty. But the necessity which compelled me to leave behind me my two sweet babes distressed me exceedingly, and my eye seemed riveted on the arid sand along the banks of the river that had some few days before borne my boy from my sight.

On the spot on which we parted I gazed with indescribable sensations, and I found that the more I gazed the dearer it grew in my estimation.

There are few who have not experienced delight in revisiting, after many years' absence, the scenes of their childhood. When I returned to my native land from India, in the year 1807, after an absence of twelve years, I was proceeding home to visit my family; but when I reached Colchester (the place, as the reader will probably recollect, where I commenced "soldiering"), all the gambols and tricks I had played there when a boy, rushed upon my mind, and the place seemed endeared to me by a thousand recollections. Such was my wish to re-explore this place, that I forfeited my coach-hire for the rest of the journey, and stopped there that night. Early on the following morning I sauntered along to the lanes that stood in the vicinity of the barracks, and, on coming to a certain lane that ran behind them, where we went every day to practice, I found my name still on a stile. This had been cut by me when I frequented the place as a little fifer, twelve years before. Such were my feelings on this simple occasion, that I could scarcely restrain a tear, and I sat on the stile for an hour, looking on my own name a hundred times over. It will not, therefore, be wondered at, if the eye of a fond father should fondly linger on the spot where he took leave of, and last saw his motherless babe.

The scene before me in the vessel soon diverted me from the contemplation of all other subjects. I could have brooded over the fate of my dear little ones the whole night; but the din and tumult of more than two hundred soldiers, with their friends from sh.o.r.e, all rioting in the cup of inebriety, tumbling over each other, blaspheming, fighting, singing, fifing, and fiddling, and all huddled together in a confined s.p.a.ce, with their beds, bedding, parrots, minors, and other birds, roused me to a lively sense of the scene before me.

On the following morning we bade farewell to Fort William, under whose proud battlements we had been lying. The wind was serene and fair, and the wave had scarcely a ripple on its silvery surface. Would that my bosom had been equally composed and tranquil; but my heart sickened within me when I felt the beautiful ship smoothly gliding down the rapid stream, and bearing me from that country and that service in which I had spent the prime of my life, and, I may say, the happiest of my days. The rapid Ganges soon bore me from the sight of the English flag, and I dropped a tear to the recollection of the many happy days I had spent at Fort William.

I soon found that I had a queer set to deal with, without the means of checking any indiscretion that drunkenness might drive them to commit.

The captain commanding the detachment was in a dying state, and indeed did die on his pa.s.sage home; consequently, all the trouble, anxiety, and care, fell upon me. I can venture to a.s.sert that, with the exception of about twenty men, a more disorderly and mutinous set than the fellows I had now under my charge, never disgraced the garb of soldiers.

An Eastern voyage, either home or out, is dull and monotonous enough, even with an agreeable party. Pa.s.sengers we had none, save one lady and her little girl, her sick husband, the captain of the detachment, then lingering on the brink of the grave, and a young officer of the Company's Bengal Artillery, who survived but a few days the tossing of the ship, and was committed to a watery grave, ere the bloom of boyhood had left his cheek. We had one doctor on board, and a young officer of the Company's service, in charge of the Company's troops. Of the misery of the pa.s.sage the reader may have some idea, when he is informed that we had upwards of two hundred men on board, some without legs, others without arms, and twenty of whom had been removed from hospital only a week or ten days before we sailed. Every man had a box or trunk, bed and bedding, with parrots, minors, and c.o.c.katoos, and all these poor creatures, with four women and four children, were huddled on one small deck, every one that could move endeavouring to seize the more secure spot, and tumbling over and treading on those who were unable, either from sickness or drunkenness, to move or a.s.sist themselves. The smell and heat below were beyond description. Added to all this, the men were, during the whole voyage, in a state of continual drunkenness, having means of procuring liquor privately, by some device which I never could discover. All my exertions were insufficient to check them in this practice, or indeed to keep them in any kind of order, from want of the usual means of enforcing obedience, there being neither a place of confinement, nor handcuffs, nor any other means of securing the ringleaders, in the ship. Nothing but the greatest personal risk on my part, and that of the Company's officer, Lieutenant Rock, prevented open mutiny among the troops; and I consider it a mercy that we were not both thrown overboard, which was more than once threatened.

Some of the more refractory among the soldiers soon discovered that my means to enforce obedience were limited; in consequence of which three-fourths of them set my orders at defiance, refusing in the most peremptory manner to obey me, even to clearing away their own filth and dirt; and I was ultimately obliged, rather than provoke that spirit of rebellion which I could evidently see only wanted some pretext to show itself, to pay a set of men daily, as a working party, to clear the deck, and keep off disease, so often occasioned on shipboard from a want of cleanliness. This I did by allowing those men two extra drams per day for their labour.

After a voyage of six months, spent in constant riot and anxiety, and the misery of the whole increased by scurvy, which prevailed on board, and the number of deaths which occurred during the pa.s.sage, we at length reached our native land in safety, having, in the course of the voyage, thrown overboard the captain of the detachment, a lieutenant, who was a pa.s.senger, thirty-eight soldiers, and one child, all of whom had died in that short s.p.a.ce of time. Most of the men fell victims to their intemperance in drink.

We reached England in the month of October, landed at Gravesend, and, on the following day, marched to the depot at Chatham, where the detachment was drawn up on parade, and I left them in charge of the staff-officer of Fort Pitt Barrack.

The parade on which I then stood finished my military career of upwards of thirty years--five-and-twenty of which I had spent on the burning soil of India. I had but little cause to feel regret in resigning my command over the turbulent and drunken set whom I now was about to quit; but, situated as I was myself, I could not even leave those poor creatures without a tear; and, when I reflected that I was no longer a soldier, I felt a weight at my heart that sunk me almost to the earth.

The public are now in possession of a faithful account of the vicissitudes which have marked the career of one who, in misfortune, can pride himself on having performed his duty to his country, loyally, faithfully, and, he trusts, bravely.

From my military readers I feel it impossible to part without a few valedictory words. Brothers in arms, farewell! May the bright star from heaven shine on your efforts, and may you be crowned with glory! May the banner of Albion be hoisted in victory wherever it goes! As long as my mortal sight will guide me along the annals of war, I will exult and triumph in your successes, and drop a tear of pity for those that fall.

Comrades, farewell!

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XXVI.

CONTINUATION OF THE MEMOIR, UNTIL THE DEATH OF MR. SHIPP.

The military career, traced in the preceding pages, has probably never been surpa.s.sed either in homely, affecting narrative, or in thrilling scenes of war and strife, by that of any soldier of modern times. That Shipp did not rise more rapidly to the dizzy heights of a hero's ambition, in a much shorter time, may reasonably be attributed to the age in which he served, as well as to the peculiar regulations of our service, than to any deficiency of fitness, ability, courage, or even notoriety on his part. In the English army, all the avenues to preferment are generally so crowded by aspirants of merit and influence, and so jealously guarded by the legislature, that the best and most valuable soldiers--men whose services acquire a very early distinction--scarcely ever rise from the ranks to the elevation which Shipp twice attained by his gallantry and soldiership. And it was the consciousness of this fact, and the marked departure from the rigid rules of the service, in the instance of his individual promotion, that rendered him so resigned and submissive, under the heavy blow which his own temerity subsequently inflicted upon him. Had his destiny enabled him to steer past the siren pleasures that too often interrupt the path of men possessing power, distinction, and popularity, it is more than probable that, instead of being permitted to retire without any public brand of disgrace upon his brow, into the obscurity of a private station, he would have attained the highest rank in the British army, and have been conspicuous, like Collingwood, not only for winning victories more gloriously, but for describing them to his countrymen more perspicuously than any military man of the age he lived in. It is not in this little autobiography, written in so terse, agreeable, and piquant a manner, that the brilliant exploits of Shipp would have been sought for: the brightness of that page of history which recorded them, would alone have secured the publicity of his renown. Few ever possessed, more eminently, all the elements essential to success as a soldier. Unimpeachable bravery, unwavering perseverance, cool fort.i.tude, and determined steadiness of purpose, were amongst the most conspicuous of his attributes; and to these we may add an inexhaustible energy of mind. Endowments of this nature are not often combined with clearness of judgment, or with that discretion which cautiously avoids the precipice.

But if Shipp had not always his judgment entirely at command--which frequently results from a habit of decision and prompt.i.tude, mistaken by many for impetuosity--he was always fertile in resources, quick in expedients, and any errors arising from his first impulses were amply amended by the energy and skill with which he ultimately fulfilled every t.i.ttle of the duty intrusted to him.

When John Shipp stood upon the parade at Chatham, in the October of 1825, he was, as he has himself informed us, performing the last of his military duties. We have already seen with what feelings he bade adieu to "the plumed troop and the big war"--to the profession which had been the choice of his childhood and the pride of his riper years--amid which he had grown and flourished; and, when he had resigned his command to the officer of Fort Pitt Barrack, he wandered forth into the world a melancholy man, because no longer a soldier. His military career was thus finished, as he truly foreboded, for ever. That eventful and not inglorious campaign of his existence, of which he has given so vivid an account, was at an end, and he was now alone in the world, dest.i.tute of occupation, and without immediate aim or object. Hitherto, his life had been a romance, the various vicissitudes whereof forcibly verify the adage, that "truth is stranger than fiction." Though the reader will have henceforth to regard him as a mere civilian, his movements confined to his native island, where stirring incidents and dashing adventures are not rife, yet the details of his remaining years are not entirely dest.i.tute of interest and instruction.

Although the first and natural feeling of the gallant ex-lieutenant, at the contemplation of his position, was one of deep despondency, yet the manliness of his nature forbid a tame submission to vain and bootless melancholy. He had before risen superior to the oppression of that gloomy G.o.ddess. His energies soon rallied, and the innate fort.i.tude of his character came to his aid. He was furnished with excellent credentials from those officers with whom he had served; and, having taken up his residence in the metropolis, he set himself sedulously to work to procure employment. At first he was elated with hope, from the numerous promises which he received, and the kindness and urbanity with which his pretensions were entertained. He soon found, however, that there was a difference between professions and practice--between hospitality and active benevolence.

Amongst the first applications which he made, was one to the Court of Directors of the East India Company, setting forth his services in India, the wounds which he had received, and his other claims on their favourable consideration. This application was successful; for, though the Directors were unable to confer on him any appointment, they generously granted him a pension of fifty pounds a year, for life, commencing from the preceding Christmas. This honourable allowance was sufficient to keep him above actual want; but, with the habits which he had imbibed in a land where extravagance and luxury are almost regarded as virtues, it was insufficient to keep him out of difficulties. He was himself well aware, and willing to allow on all occasions, that his chief failing was improvidence. Nor was he really extravagant; but he possessed little knowledge of the value of money, and was as prodigal of that essential commodity as if his supplies had been unlimited. His generosity was so unbounded, that he has often been known to recompense moderate services with a liberality wholly beyond his rank or means. The resources derived from the India House soon failing, he renewed his exertions to obtain employment, but still without success. Remembering that the story of his life was full of interest, and having determined upon telling it to the public, he turned himself with great perseverance to his new occupation, and in a short time became fired with all the ambition of an expectant author. As he was, however, naturally doubtful of his own powers, he submitted his ma.n.u.scripts to the revision of a gentleman every way well qualified for the task, and who performed it with equal judgment, good taste, and ability. This sanguine temperament now led him to indulge in many a golden dream of the profits of authorship; an error that occasioned more profuse expenditure than he would, even with his acknowledged lack of worldly prudence, have deemed excusable.

It was while he was under the delusion of this phantom--the expectation of competent means from literary labours solely--that he thought of submitting a second time to the bonds of Hymen; and the interesting and amiable object of his affections has shown sufficiently the wisdom of his choice, by her exemplary conduct and virtuous life, when placed in circ.u.mstances painful, difficult, and trying. The only available means of support under the increased expenditure that attended his married state, was his pension from the India House--his chief prospective supply, the result of his publications. As an author he displayed invention and quickness; and the rapidity with which his works of fiction appeared, was not less extraordinary than the imagination which they displayed. In 1826 he published "The Shepherdess of Arranville; or, Father and Daughter;" a pathetic tale in three acts; and, in 1829, "The Maniac of the Pyrenees; or, the Heroic Soldier's Wife;" a melodrama in two acts, printed at Brentford. The success of these light works, however, was inferior to that of his Memoirs, which soon became extensively popular, and have continued to gather favour with each added year. This reputation resulted, not more from the exciting nature of the details, than the freshness, rapidity, and air of candour, that pervades the whole. Shipp certainly derived advantage from the advice and a.s.sistance of an experienced and talented literary friend; but the vigour, playfulness, and peculiarity of style which characterize all his writings, were not infused by the pen of the ripe and ready writer--they were original qualities of the composition. Encouraged by the reception of his Memoirs, and urged by pinching poverty to constant efforts for the improvement of his circ.u.mstances, he took advantage of his literary popularity, and sent into the world his "Military Bijou," and a pamphlet on military flogging. The latter, dedicated to Sir Francis Burdett, produced a decided sensation, and was so much approved of by the patriotic senator with whose name it was a.s.sociated, that he generously presented the author with a cheque for sixty pounds. Such precarious supplies, however, could afford no permanent ease to a mind so energetic, so unbroken by reverses, so incapable of yielding to any untoward pressure of Providence: he applied himself, therefore, resolutely to the obtainment of an employment attended with a certain income, without regard to the amount of compensation, degree of humility, or difficulty of position. Confident of his powers, physical and intellectual; relying on the education derived from boundless experience of men and manners, and being a perfect master of the art of discipline, he very naturally concluded that his qualifications for the situation of a metropolitan police officer were unequalled. He had calculated rightly. Without a moment's hesitation--in fact accompanied by an expression of regret that no more lucrative or suitable appointment was vacant--the office of Inspector was stated to be at his service, and to await his acceptance.

Entering with alacrity on the duties of his new appointment, he had the good fortune to be introduced, by Colonel Rowan, to Lieutenant W.

Parlour, at that time superintendent of the Stepney division. This employment was not only particularly agreeable to Mr. Shipp, from the military rank of his superior in command, but laid the foundation of a steady friendship, which terminated only with his death. Mr. Shipp's talents and qualifications could not remain long unnoticed by the commissioners; indeed, they had evinced their perfect knowledge of both, and their desire to protect, encourage, and promote him, from the first moment of his presenting himself, by their placing him under the command of Lieutenant Parlour. A few months after Shipp's appointment, Lieutenant Parlour was made superintendent of the Liverpool constabulary force; and, on taking leave of his friend, a.s.sured him of his sincere determination to a.s.sist in restoring him to a situation of independence and respectful consideration. An opportunity soon presented itself. A superintendent for the night watch at Liverpool being required, Parlour sent an early communication to his friend Shipp, explaining all the advantages, the amount of salary (200 per annum), and the respectable character of the employment; urging him to strain every nerve, turn every stone, ply every engine, to obtain the vacant place. The very conspicuous merits of Shipp soon distanced his numerous compet.i.tors, and procured for him the object of his ambition.

As superintendent of the night watch at Liverpool, Mr. Shipp proved himself a capable and efficient officer. By his intelligence, attention, excellent management, and gentlemanly manners, he gained the confidence and esteem, not only of the authorities, but of many individuals of wealth and consideration in that opulent community.

We have alluded to the fondness for scribbling which had been evinced by Mr. Shipp, from the period when he undertook the task of writing his Memoirs. This propensity, so far from diminishing, seemed to gather strength, till at length it became one of his favourite occupations. On his first settlement in Liverpool, he contributed gratuitously, to several of the local papers, tales ill.u.s.trative of the manners of the Hindoos. Shortly afterwards he published a rather ponderous volume, ent.i.tled "The Eastern Story Teller:" but it is somewhat remarkable that the real events of his own life surpa.s.sed in interest those which were the offspring of his imagination.

His propensity for literary composition never interfered with his responsible duties as an officer. Accustomed to command, and possessing, from long experience, a thorough knowledge of character, he had the force under his control in a state of admirable order and discipline.

Nor were there wanting several occasions for the display of that natural intrepidity which was so striking a concomitant of his character. Though he had command of a civil force, a military disposition was not unfrequently required.

It was his duty to "set the watch" at a particular hour each evening--the time, of course, varying according to the season. After this it was his habit to take his round in the night, at some hour casually selected, in order to keep the men alert and vigilant. He resided in a district of the town called Toxteth Park, which was at that period infested by gangs of ruffians known by the designation of Park Bangers. Prior to the pa.s.sing of the Munic.i.p.al Act, Liverpool was not protected by the efficient day and night police that has since been established; and gangs of lawless individuals were in the habit of attacking pedestrians, male and female, sometimes for wanton mischief, and not unfrequently with the view of obtaining plunder. One winter's morning, Mr. Shipp, having performed a portion of his round, was returning home with the intention of taking a few hours' sleep, and then resuming his duty: as he was pa.s.sing along one of the streets of the Park, his attention was attracted by a violent whirling of rattles, amid which he heard the shrieks of a female. He rushed forward in the direction of the sounds, and, on turning into a retired and respectable suburban street, saw two of his men fleeing with all the speed that their heavy habiliments would permit, before four fellows who brandished heavy bludgeons. A little further on lay a watchman, apparently insensible, while a couple of ruffians were kneeling over a prostrate figure on the footwalk. Leaning against the rails for support was a lady, whose shrieks had now subsided into heart-breaking sobs. Shipp saw in one instant how matters stood, and he hesitated not for a moment what course to take. Pa.s.sing the fugitives and their pursuers, he rushed up to the fellows who were rifling the man on the footwalk, and, with the heavy stick which he always carried during his nocturnal perambulations, laid them both prostrate beside their victim. The remainder of the gang seeing this, turned from the pursuit of the watchmen, and rushed upon him; but, calling to the fugitives, he contrived to dart through his a.s.sailants, without receiving any injury save a contusion on the left shoulder. Another watchman who had heard the rattles, at this moment came; the two who were running off, hearing their superintendent's voice, had returned, and all four now faced the gang, who, however, fearing that the odds would soon be against them, fled, leaving one of their number a prisoner in the grasp of Mr. Shipp, in addition to the two whom he had prostrated, and who were then slowly recovering. The victim of plunder had already recovered his legs. Mr. Shipp now learned that he was a respectable tradesman of the town, who was returning home from a Christmas festivity with his wife, when he was a.s.sailed by a gang of thieves, who, finding that he resisted stoutly, struck him to the ground. The cries of the lady brought the watchmen, one after another, to the spot. The first was knocked down, and the two others, after receiving a few blows, were running off in search of more a.s.sistance, when their superintendent arrived in time to prevent the villains from effecting their object.

Mr. Shipp was one evening taking a gla.s.s of wine with a few friends at the King's Arms, one of the princ.i.p.al inns in Liverpool, when suddenly a strange tumult was heard in the house, and sounds of feet pa.s.sing rapidly along the floors. At first the party took no notice of the matter; but, a still more strange and unusual sound reaching their ears, they gazed at each other in silence and amazement. Suspense to Shipp being always intolerable, he rose at once, and, followed by his companions, rushed into the pa.s.sage, which was a s.p.a.cious apartment.

Here they were met by vociferations of "Go back! go back! Mr. Shipp, and shut your door." The advice was instantly followed by every one, save Shipp alone, who, with that firm nerve that enabled him to face death in various shapes, remained outside, where a melancholy spectacle met his eyes. In the middle of the hall, just opposite the large window of the bar, where a crowd of servants had taken refuge, and from whence they called loudly for help, stood a grey-headed man, apparently about fifty years of age, who, from his dress, appeared to be a helper in the stable. In his right hand he grasped a carving-knife; and, while his face appeared convulsed with the fury of a maniac, he uttered the most fearful, though incoherent denunciations of vengeance, against any one who should approach him. At this instant a young woman belonging to the establishment came tripping down the stairs, whom the maniac perceiving, he repeated the same fearful cry which had so startled the company in the parlour, and, raising the knife, rushed at her. Shipp bounded after him like the lion from his lair, seized his uplifted arm, and, jamming the madman against the stairs with his knees, wrenched the weapon from his grasp. The terrified waiter now stepped forward, and a.s.sisted in securing the lunatic, who was immediately conveyed to Bridewell, and from thence to a proper asylum. He was an old servant of the establishment, who had on several occasions exhibited symptoms of mental derangement, which ultimately became confirmed by habits of intemperance. At length, on the evening in question, his malady had broken out into decided madness.

Shipp used himself to relate an incident, which has so much the character of romance, that it must not be omitted. He was seated one afternoon in an alcove on the green of the hotel at Birkenhead, when, in the adjoining recess, he overheard a deep masculine voice urging some tender proposal to a female: and he was about to depart, when he was struck by the extremely tremulous tones in which the girl refused compliance. "I cannot consent to go," said she; "it would not be proper."--"Well, but," replied the man, "I tell you your brother Tom is to go with us; he has consented to the whole arrangement; the sloop is in the river now, and we sail with the morning tide at five o'clock.

We're all ready. Tom'll go on board this night; and, as he is fully expecting you, it will look foolish not to go. We can be married at Guernsey immediately, you know; and I shall have such a nice cottage for you; and we shall be as happy as possible."--"And why cannot I go on board when Tom does?" asked the girl. "Why, you know, dear," replied the man, with some hesitation, "the agents might board us this evening; and I should not like them to see us with a woman in the sloop. But come--I know you are not comfortable with that old aunt of yours; so just steal out of the house, and be on the watch for us at the slip, at half-past one. I shall have the boat waiting at one, close to the slip at George's Pier; the tide will be running in; I will pull over, and take you on board in a jiffy; and then away we go for beautiful Guernsey." A few more low sounds of tender entreaty followed, and then the girl seemed to yield a reluctant consent. The man, observing that she was faint, proposed that she should walk on the green and take the air.

Shipp had then an opportunity of observing the pair. The girl was a pretty, graceful, innocent-looking creature, about twenty-two years of age. The man was a tall, swarthy, good-looking fellow, apparently a master in the merchant service. Shipp at once recognized him as an individual who had been, a few weeks before, convicted before the magistrates of Liverpool for smuggling, and heavily fined. By representation to the board, the fine had been considerably mitigated.

Shortly afterward, as Shipp was pa.s.sing along the pier to the packet, he again pa.s.sed the lovers, who were just separating. "Remember half-past one," said the man.--"I will," replied the girl, firmly; "tell brother Tom I shall scold him when I come on board, for not coming over to see me." The packet was moving from the pier, and the man stepped on board at the same moment as Mr. Shipp. The former was almost immediately accosted with great warmth by an individual, who pressed forward to meet him. The two shook hands familiarly, the friend exclaiming, "Ah!