The Two Admirals (46 page)

Little heed was taken of any thing astern, by those on board the
Plantagenet. Every one saw, it is true, that ship followed ship in due
succession, as long as the movements of those inshore could be perceived
at all; but the great interest centred on the horizon to the southward
and eastward. In that quarter of the channel the French were expected to
appear, for the cause of this sudden departure was a secret from no one
in the fleet. A dozen of the best look-outs in the ship were kept aloft
the whole afternoon, and Captain Greenly, himself, sat in the
forward-cross-trees, with a glass, for more than an hour, just as the
sun was setting, in order to sweep the horizon. Two or three sail were
made, it is true, but they all proved to be English coasters; Guernsey
or Jerseymen, standing for ports in the west of England, most probably
laden with prohibited articles from the country of the enemy. Whatever
may be the dislike of an Englishman for a Frenchman, he has no dislike
to the labour of his hands; and there probably has not been a period
since civilization has introduced the art of smuggling among its other
arts, when French brandies, and laces, and silks, were not exchanged
against English tobacco and guineas, and that in a contraband way, let
it be in peace or let it be in war. One of the characteristics of Sir
Gervaise Oakes was to despise all petty means of annoyance; usually he
disdained even to turn aside to chase a smuggler. Fishermen he never
molested at all; and, on the whole, he carried on a marine warfare, a
century since, in a way that some of his successors might have imitated
to advantage in our own times. Like that high-spirited Irishman,
Caldwell,
[2]
who conducted a blockade in the Chesapeake, at the
commencement of the revolution, with so much liberality, that his
enemies actually sent him an invitation to a public dinner, Sir Gervaise
knew how to distinguish between the combatant and the non-combatant, and
heartily disdained all the money-making parts of his profession, though
large sums had fallen into his hands, in this way, as pure God-sends. No
notice was taken, therefore, of any thing that had not a warlike look;
the noble old ship standing steadily on towards the French coast, as the
mastiff passes the cur, on his way to encounter another animal, of a
mould and courage more worthy of his powers.

"Make nothing of 'em, hey! Greenly," said Sir Gervaise, as the captain
came down from his perch, in consequence of the gathering obscurity of
evening, followed by half-a-dozen lieutenants and midshipmen, who had
been aloft as volunteers. "Well, we know they cannot yet be to the
westward of us, and by standing on shall be certain of heading them off,
before this time six months. How beautifully all the ships behave,
following each other as accurately as if Bluewater himself were aboard
each vessel to conn her!"

"Yes, sir, they do keep the line uncommonly well, considering that the
tides run in streaks in the channel. I
do
think if we were to drop a
hammock overboard, that the Carnatic would pick it up, although she must
be quite four leagues astern of us."

"Let old Parker alone for that! I'll warrant you,
he
is never out of
the way. Were it Lord Morganic, now, in the Achilles, I should expect
him to be away off here on our weather-quarter, just to show us how his
ship can eat us out of the wind when he
tries
: or away down yonder,
under our lee, that we might understand how she falls off, when he
don't
try."

"My lord is a gallant officer, and no bad seaman, for his years,
notwithstanding, Sir Gervaise," observed Greenly, who generally took the
part of the absent, whenever his superior felt disposed to berate them.

"I deny neither, Greenly, most particularly the first. I know very well,
were I to signal Morganic, to run into Brest, he'd do it; but whether he
would go in, ring-tail-boom, or jib-boom first, I couldn't tell till I
saw it. Now you are a youngish man yourself. Greenly—"

"Every day of eight-and-thirty, Sir Gervaise, and a few months to spare;
and I care not if the ladies know it."

"Poh!—They like us old fellows, half the time, as well as they do the
boys. But you are of an age not to feel time in your bones, and can see
the folly of some of our old-fashioned notions, perhaps; though you are
not quite as likely to understand the fooleries that have come in, in
your own day. Nothing is more absurd than to be experimenting on the
settled principles of ships. They are machines, Greenly, and have their
laws, just the same as the planets in the heavens. The idea comes from a
fish,—head, run, and helm; and all we have to do is to study the fishes
in order to get the sort of craft we want. If there is occasion for
bulk, take the whale, and you get a round bottom, full fore-body, and a
clean run. When you want speed, models are plenty—take the dolphin, for
instance,—and there you find an entrance like a wedge, a lean
fore-body, and a run as clean as this ship's decks. But some of our
young captains would spoil a dolphin's sailing, if they could breathe
under water, so as to get at the poor devils. Look at their fancies! The
First Lord shall give one of his cousins a frigate, now, that is moulded
after nature itself, as one might say; with a bottom that would put a
trout to shame. Well, one of the first things the lad does, when he gets
on board her, is to lengthen his gaff, perhaps, put a cloth or two in
his mizzen, and call it a spanker, settle away the peak till it sticks
out over his taffrail like a sign-post, and then away he goes upon a
wind, with his helm hard-up, bragging what a weatherly craft he has, and
how hard it is to make her even
look
to leeward."

"I have known such sailors, I must confess, Sir Gervaise; but time cures
them of that folly."

"That is to be hoped; for what would a man think of a fish to which
nature had fitted a tail athwart-ships, and which was obliged to carry a
fin, like a lee-board, under its lee-jaw, to prevent falling off dead
before the wind!"

Here Sir Gervaise laughed heartily at the picture of the awkward
creature to which his own imagination had given birth; Greenly joining
in the merriment, partly from the oddity of the conceit, and partly from
the docility with which commander-in-chief's jokes are usually received.
The feeling of momentary indignation which had aroused Sir Gervaise to
such an expression of his disgust at modern inventions, was appeased by
this little success; and, inviting his captain to sup with him,—a
substitute for a dinner,—he led the way below in high good-humour,
Galleygo having just announced that the table was ready.

The
convives
on this occasion were merely the admiral himself,
Greenly, and Atwood. The fare was substantial, rather than scientific;
but the service was rich; Sir Gervaise uniformly eating off of plate. In
addition to Galleygo, no less than five domestics attended to the wants
of the party. As a ship of the Plantagenet's size was reasonably steady
at all times, a gale of wind excepted, when the lamps and candles were
lighted, and the group was arranged, aided by the admixture of rich
furniture with frowning artillery and the other appliances of war, the
great cabin of the Plantagenet was not without a certain air of rude
magnificence. Sir Gervaise kept no less than three servants in livery,
as a part of his personal establishment, tolerating Galleygo, and one or
two more of the same stamp, as a homage due to Neptune.

The situation not being novel to either of the party, and the day's work
having been severe, the first twenty minutes were pretty studiously
devoted to the duty of "restoration," as it is termed by the great
masters of the science of the table. By the end of that time, however,
the glass began to circulate, though moderately, and with it tongues to
loosen.

"Your health, Captain Greenly—Atwood, I remember you," said the
vice-admiral, nodding his head familiarly to his two guests, on the eve
of tossing off a glass of sherry. "These Spanish wines go directly to
the heart, and I only wonder why a people who can make them, don't make
better sailors."

"In the days of Columbus, the Spaniards had something to boast of in
that way, too, Sir Gervaise," Atwood remarked.

"Ay, but that was a long time ago, and they have got bravely over it. I
account for the deficiencies of both the French and Spanish marines
something in this way, Greenly. Columbus, and the discovery of America,
brought ships and sailors into fashion. But a ship without an officer
fit to command her, is like a body without a soul. Fashion, however,
brought your young nobles into their services, and men were given
vessels because their fathers were dukes and counts, and not because
they knew any thing about them."

"Is our own service entirely free from this sort of favouritism?"
quietly demanded the captain.

"Far from it, Greenly; else would not Morganic have been made a captain
at twenty, and old Parker, for instance, one only at fifty. But,
somehow, our classes slide into each other, in a way that neutralizes,
in a great degree, the effect of birth. Is it not so, Atwood?"

"
Some
of our classes, Sir Gervaise, manage to
slide
into all the
best places, if the truth must be said."

"Well, that is pretty bold for a Scotchman!" rejoined the vice-admiral,
good-humouredly. "Ever since the accession of the house of Stuart, we've
built a bridge across the Tweed that lets people pass in only one
direction. I make no doubt this Pretender's son will bring down half
Scotland at his heels, to fill all the berths they may fancy suitable to
their merits. It's an easy way of paying bounty—promises."

"This affair in the north, they tell me, seems a little serious," said
Greenly. "I believe this is Mr. Atwood's opinion?"

"You'll find it serious enough, if Sir Gervaise's notion about the
bounty be true," answered the immovable secretary. "Scotia is a small
country, but it's well filled with 'braw sperits,' if there's an opening
for them to prove it."

"Well, well, this war between England and Scotland is out of place,
while we have the French and Spaniards on our hands. Most extraordinary
scenes have we had ashore, yonder, Greenly, with an old Devonshire
baronet, who slipped and is off for the other world, while we were in
his house."

"Magrath has told me something of it, sir; and, he tells me the
fill-us-null-us
—hang me if I can make out his gibberish, five minutes
after it was told to me."

"
Filius nullius
, you mean; nobody's baby—the son of nobody—have you
forgotten your Latin, man?"

"Faith, Sir Gervaise, I never had any to forget. My father was a captain
of a man-of-war before me, and he kept me afloat from the time I was
five, down to the day of his death; Latin was no part of my spoon-meat."

"Ay—ay—my good fellow, I knew your father, and was in the third ship
from him, in the action in which he fell," returned the vice-admiral,
kindly. "Bluewater was just ahead of him, and we all loved him, as we
did an elder brother. You were not promoted, then."

"No, sir, I was only a midshipman, and didn't happen to be in his own
ship that day," answered Greenly, sensibly touched with this tribute to
his parent's merit; "but I was old enough to remember how nobly you all
behaved on the occasion. Well,"—slily brushing his eye with his
hand,—"Latin may do a schoolmaster good, but it is of little use on
board ship. I never had but one scholar among all my cronies and
intimates."

"And who was he, Greenly? You shouldn't despise knowledge, because you
don't understand it. I dare say your intimate was none the worse for a
little Latin—enough to go through
nullus, nulla, nullum
, for
instance. Who was this intimate, Greenly?"

"John Bluewater—handsome Jack, as he was called; the younger brother of
the admiral. They sent him to sea, to keep him out of harm's way in some
love affair; and you may remember that while he was with the admiral, or
Captain
Bluewater, as he was then, I was one of the lieutenants.
Although poor Jack was a soldier and in the guards, and he was four or
five years my senior, he took a fancy to me, and we became intimate.
He
understood Latin, better than he did his own interests."

"In what did he fail?—Bluewater was never very communicative to me
about that brother."

"There was a private marriage, and cross guardians, and the usual
difficulties. In the midst of it all, poor John fell in battle, as you
know, and his widow followed him to the grave, within a month or two.
'Twas a sad story all round, and I try to think of it as little as
possible."

"A private marriage!" repeated Sir Gervaise, slowly. "Are you quite sure
of
that
? I don't think Bluewater is aware of that circumstance; at
least, I never heard him allude to it. Could there have been any issue?"

"No one can know it better than myself, as I helped to get the lady off,
and was present at the ceremony. That much I
know
. Of issue, I should
think there was none; though the colonel lived a year after the
marriage. How far the admiral is familiar with all these circumstances I
cannot say, as one would not like to introduce the particulars of a
private marriage of a deceased brother, to his commanding officer."

"I am glad there was no issue, Greenly—particular circumstances make me
glad of that. But we will change the discourse, as these family
disasters make one melancholy; and a melancholy dinner is like
ingratitude to Him who bestows it."

The conversation now grew general, and in due season, in common with the
feast, it ended. After sitting the usual time, the guests retired. Sir
Gervaise then went on deck, and paced the poop for an hour, looking
anxiously ahead, in quest of the French signal; and, failing of
discovering them, he was fain to seek his berth out of sheer fatigue.
Before he did this, however, the necessary orders were given; and that
to call him, should any thing out of the common track occur, was
repeated no less than four times.