The Two Admirals (12 page)

"The Pretender is then really once more among us!" exclaimed Sir
Gervaise, like one who had half suspected the truth.

"Not the Pretender, Sir Gervaise, as I understand the news; but his
young son, Prince Charles Edward, one much more likely to give the
kingdom trouble. The fact is certain, I believe; and as it struck me
that it might be important to the commander of so fine a fleet as this
which lies under Wychecombe Head, to know it, I lost no time in getting
back with the intelligence."

"You have done well, young gentleman, and have proved that discretion
is
quite as useful and respectable in a lieutenant, as it can possibly
prove to be in a full admiral of the white. Go, now, and make yourself
fit to take a seat by the side of one of the sweetest girls in England,
where I shall expect to see you, in fifteen minutes. Well, Bluewater,"
he continued, as soon as the door closed on Wycherly; "this
is
news,
of a certainty!"

"It is, indeed; and I take it to be the news, or connected with the
news, that you have sent to the First Lord, in the late despatches. It
has not taken you altogether by surprise, if the truth were said?"

"It has not, I confess. You know what excellent intelligence we have
had, the past season, from the Bordeaux agent; he sent me off such
proofs of this intended expedition, that I thought it advisable to bring
the fleet north on the strength of it, that the ships might be used as
the exigency should require."

"Thank God, it is a long way to Scotland, and it is not probable we can
reach the coast of that country until all is over! I wish we had
inquired of this young man with what sort of, and how large a naval
force the prince was accompanied with. Shall I send for him, that we may
put the question?"

"It is better that you remain passive, Admiral Bluewater. I now promise
you that you shall learn all I hear; and that, under the circumstances,
I think ought to content you."

The two admirals now separated, though neither returned to the company
for some little time. The intelligence they had just learned was too
important to be lightly received, and each of these veteran seamen paced
his room, for near a quarter of an hour, reflecting on what might be the
probable consequences to the country and to himself. Sir Gervaise Oakes
expected some event of this nature, and was less taken by surprise than
his friend; still he viewed the crisis as exceedingly serious, and as
one likely to destroy the prosperity of the nation, as well as the peace
of families. There was then in England, as there is to-day, and as there
probably will be throughout all time, two parties; one of which clung to
the past with its hereditary and exclusive privileges, while the other
looked more towards change for anticipated advantages, and created
honours. Religion, in that age, was made the stalking-horse of
politicians; as is liberty on one side, and order on the other, in our
own times; and men just as blindly, as vehemently, and as regardlessly
of principle, submitted to party in the middle of the eighteenth
century, as we know they do in the middle of the nineteenth. The mode of
acting was a little changed, and the watchwords and rallying points were
not exactly the same, it is true; but, in all that relates to ignorant
confidence, ferocious denunciation, and selfishness but half concealed
under the cloak of patriotism, the England of the original whigs and
tories, was the England of conservatism and reform, and the America of
1776, the America of 1841.

Still thousands always act, in political struggles, with the fairest
intentions, though they act in bitter opposition to each other. When
prejudice becomes the stimulant of ignorance, no other result may be
hoped for; and the experience of the world, in the management of human
affairs, has left the upright and intelligent, but one conclusion as the
reward of all the pains and penalties with which political revolutions
have been effected—the conviction that no institutions can be invented,
which a short working does not show will be perverted from their
original intention, by the ingenuity of those entrusted with power. In a
word, the physical constitution of man does not more infallibly tend to
decrepitude and imbecility, imperiously requiring a new being, and a new
existence, to fulfil the objects of his creation, than the moral
constitutions which are the fruits of his wisdom, contain the seeds of
abuses and decay, that human selfishness will be as certain to
cultivate, as human indulgence is to aid the course of nature, in
hastening the approaches of death. Thus, while on the one hand, there
exists the constant incentive of abuses and hopes to induce us to wish
for modifications of the social structure, on the other there stands the
experience of ages to demonstrate their insufficiency to produce the
happiness we aim at. If the world advances in civilization and humanity,
it is because knowledge will produce its fruits in every soil, and under
every condition of cultivation and improvement.

Both Sir Gervaise Oakes and Admiral Bluewater believed themselves to be
purely governed by principles, in submitting to the bias that each felt
towards the conflicting claims of the houses of Brunswick and Stuart.
Perhaps no two men in England were in fact less influenced by motives
that they ought to feel ashamed to own; and yet, as has been seen, while
they thought so much alike on most other things, on this they were
diametrically opposed to each other. During the many years of arduous
and delicate duties that they had served together, jealousy, distrust,
and discontent had been equally strangers to their bosoms; for each had
ever felt the assurance that his own honour, happiness, and interests
were as much ruling motives with his friend, as they could well be with
himself Their lives had been constant scenes of mutual but unpretending
kindnesses; and this under circumstances that naturally awakened all the
most generous and manly sentiments of their natures. When young men,
their laughing messmates had nick-named them Pylades and Orestes; and
later in life, on account of their cruising so much in company, they
were generally known in the navy as the "twin captains." On several
occasions had they fought enemies' frigates, and captured them; on these
occasions, as a matter of course, the senior of the two became most
known to the nation; but Sir Gervaise had made the most generous efforts
to give his junior a full share of the credit, while Captain Bluewater
never spoke of the affairs without mentioning them as victories of the
commodore. In a word, on all occasions, and under all circumstances, it
appeared to be the aim of these generous-minded and gallant seamen, to
serve each other; nor was this attempted with any effort, or striving
for effect; all that was said, or done, coming naturally and
spontaneously from the heart. But, for the first time in their lives,
events had now occurred which threatened a jarring of the feelings
between them, if they did not lead to acts which must inevitably place
them in open and declared hostility to each other. No wonder, then, that
both looked at the future with gloomy forebodings, and a distrust,
which, if it did not render them unhappy, at least produced uneasiness.

"The circle form'd, we sit in silent state,
Like figures drawn upon a dial-plate;
Yes ma'am, and no ma'am, uttered softly show,
Every five minutes how the minutes go."

COWPER.

It is scarcely necessary to tell the reader that England, as regarded
material civilization, was a very different country a hundred years
since, from what it is to-day. We are writing of an age of heavy wagons,
coaches and six, post-chaises and four; and not of an era of
MacAdam-roads, or of cars flying along by steam. A man may now post down
to a country-house, some sixty or eighty miles, to dinner; and this,
too, by the aid of only a pair of horses; but, in 1745 such an
engagement would have required at least a start on the previous day;
and, in many parts of the island, it would have been safer to have taken
two days' grace. Scotland was then farther from Devonshire, in effect,
than Geneva is now; and news travelled slowly, and with the usual
exaggerations and uncertainties of delay. It was no wonder, then, that a
Jacobite who was posting off to his country-house—the focus of an
English landlord's influence and authority—filled with intelligence
that had reached him through the activity of zealous political
partisans, preceded the more regular tidings of the mail, by several
hours. The little that had escaped this individual, or his servants
rather, for the gentleman was tolerably discreet himself, confiding in
only one or two particular friends at each relay, had not got out to the
world, either very fully, or very clearly. Wycherly had used
intelligence in making his inquiries, and he had observed an officer's
prudence in keeping his news for the ears of his superior alone. When
Sir Gervaise joined the party in the drawing-room, therefore, he saw
that Sir Wycherly knew nothing of what had occurred at the north; and he
intended the glance which he directed at the lieutenant to convey a
hearty approval of his discretion. This forbearance did more to raise
the young officer in the opinion of the practised and thoughtful
admiral, than the gallantry with which the youth had so recently
purchased his commission; for while many were brave, few had the
self-command, and prudence, under circumstances like the present, that
alone can make a man safe in the management of important public
interests. The approbation that Sir Gervaise felt, and which he desired
to manifest, for Wycherly's prudence, was altogether a principle,
however; since there existed no sufficient reason for keeping the secret
from as confirmed a whig as his host. On the contrary, the sooner those
opinions, which both of them would be apt to term sound, were
promulgated in the neighbourhood, the better it might prove for the good
cause. The vice-admiral, therefore, determined to communicate himself,
as soon as the party was seated at table, the very secret which he so
much commended the youth for keeping. Admiral Bluewater joining the
company, at this instant, Sir Wycherly led Mrs. Dutton to the table. No
alteration had taken place among the guests, except that Sir Gervaise
wore the red riband; a change in his dress that his friend considered to
be openly hoisting the standard of the house of Hanover.

"One would not think, Sir Wycherly," commenced the vice-admiral,
glancing his eyes around him, as soon as all were sealed; "that this
good company has taken its place at your hospitable table, in the midst
of a threatened civil war, if not of an actual revolution."

Every hand was arrested, and every eye turned towards the speaker; even
Admiral Bluewater earnestly regarding his friend, anxious to know what
would come next.

"I believe my household is in due subjection," answered Sir Wycherly,
gazing to the right and left, as if he expected to see his butler
heading a revolt; "and I fancy the only change we shall see to-day, will
be the removal of the courses, and the appearance of their successors."

"Ay, so says the hearty, comfortable Devonshire baronet, while seated at
his own board, favoured by abundance and warm friends. But it would seem
the snake was only scotched; not killed."

"Sir Gervaise Oaken has grown figurative; with his
snakes
and
scotch
ings," observed the rear-admiral, a little drily.

"It is
Scotch
-ing, as you say with so much emphasis, Bluewater. I
suppose, Sir Wycherly—I suppose, Mr. Dutton, and you, my pretty young
lady—I presume all of you have heard of such a person as the
Pretender;—some of you may possibly have
seen
him."

Sir Wycherly now dropt his knife and fork, and sat gazing at the speaker
in amazement. To him the Christian religion, the liberties of the
subject—more especially of the baronet and lord of the manor, who had
four thousand a year—and the Protestant succession, all seemed to be in
sudden danger.

"I always told my brother, the judge—Mr. Baron Wychecombe, who is dead
and gone—that what between the French, that rogue the Pope, and the
spurious offspring of King James II., we should yet see troublesome
times in England! And now, sir, my predictions are verified!"

"Not as to England, yet, my good sir. Of Scotland I have not quite so
good news to tell you; as your namesake, here, brings us the tidings
that the son of the Pretender has landed in that kingdom, and is
rallying the clans. He has come unattended by any Frenchmen, it would
seem, and has thrown himself altogether on the misguided nobles and
followers of his house."

"'Tis, at least, a chivalrous and princely act!" exclaimed Admiral
Bluewater.

"Yes—inasmuch as it is a heedless and mad one. England is not to be
conquered by a rabble of half-dressed Scotchmen."

"True; but England may be conquered by England, notwithstanding."

Sir Gervaise now chose to remain silent, for never before had Bluewater
come so near betraying his political bias, in the presence of third
persons. This pause enabled Sir Wycherly to find his voice.

"Let me see, Tom," said the baronet, "fifteen and ten are twenty-five,
and ten are thirty, and ten are forty-five—it is just thirty years
since the Jacobites were up before! It would seem that half a human life
is not sufficient to fill the cravings of a Scotchman's maw, for English
gold."

"Twice thirty years would hardly quell the promptings of a noble spirit,
when his notions of justice showed him the way to the English throne,"
observed Bluewater, coolly. "For my part, I like the spirit of this
young prince, for he who nobly dares, nobly deserves. What say you, my
beautiful neighbour?"

"If you mean to address me, sir, by that compliment," answered Mildred,
modestly, but with the emphasis that the gentlest of her sex are apt to
use when they feel strongly; "I must be suffered to say that I hope
every Englishman will dare as nobly, and deserve as well in defence of
his liberties."