The Two Admirals (9 page)

Sir Gervaise had called his force the southern squadron, from the
circumstance of its having been cruising in the Bay of Biscay, for the
last six months. This was a wild winter-station, the danger from the
elements greatly surpassing any that could well be anticipated from the
enemy. The duty notwithstanding had been well and closely performed;
several West India, and one valuable East India convoy having been
effectually protected, as well as a few straggling frigates of the enemy
picked up; but the service had been excessively laborious to all engaged
in it, and replete with privations. Most of those who now landed, had
not trod terra firma for half a year, and it was not wonderful that all
the officers whose duties did not confine them to the vessels, gladly
seized the occasion to feast their senses with the verdure and odours of
their native island. Quite a hundred guests of this character were also
pouring into the street of Wychecombe, or spreading themselves among the
surrounding farm-houses; flirting with the awkward and blushing girls,
and keeping an eye at the same time to the main chance of the
mess-table.

"Our boys have already found out your village, Sir Wycherly, in spite of
the fog," the vice-admiral remarked, good-humouredly, as he cast his
eyes around at the movement of the street; "and the locusts of Egypt
will not come nearer to breeding a famine. One would think there was a
great dinner
in petto
, in every cabin of the fleet, by the number of
the captain's stewards that are ashore, hey! Atwood? I have seen nine of
the harpies, myself, and the other seven can't be far off."

"Here is Galleygo, Sir Gervaise," returned the secretary, smiling;
"though
he
can scarcely be called a captain's steward, having the
honour to serve a vice-admiral and a commander-in-chief."

"Ay, but
we
feed the whole fleet at times, and have some excuse for
being a little exacting—harkee, Galleygo—get a horse-cart, and push
off at once, four or five miles further into the country; you might as
well expect to find real pearls in fishes' eyes, as hope to pick up any
thing nice among so many gun-room and cock-pit boys. I dine ashore
to-day, but Captain Greenly is fond of mutton-chops, you'll remember."

This was said kindly, and in the manner of a man accustomed to treat his
domestics with the familiarity of humble friends. Galleygo was as
unpromising a looking butler as any gentleman ashore would be at all
likely to tolerate; but he had been with his present master, and in his
present capacity, ever since the latter had commanded a sloop of war.
All his youth had been passed as a top-man, and he was really a prime
seaman; but accident having temporarily placed him in his present
station, Captain Oakes was so much pleased with his attention to his
duty, and particularly with his order, that he ever afterwards retained
him in his cabin, notwithstanding the strong desire the honest fellow
himself had felt to remain aloft. Time and familiarity, at length
reconciled the steward to his station, though he did not formally accept
it, until a clear agreement had been made that he was not to be
considered an idler on any occasion that called for the services of the
best men. In this manner David, for such was his Christian name, had
become a sort of nondescript on board of a man-of-war; being foremost in
all the cuttings out, a captain of a gun, and was frequently seen on a
yard in moments of difficulty, just to keep his hand in, as he expressed
it, while he descended to the duties of the cabin in peaceable times and
good weather. Near thirty years had he thus been half-steward,
half-seaman when afloat, while on land he was rather a counsellor and
minister of the closet, than a servant; for out of a ship he was utterly
useless, though he never left his master for a week at a time, ashore or
afloat. The name of Galleygo was a
sobriquet
conferred by his brother
top-men, but had been so generally used, that for the last twenty years
most of his shipmates believed it to be his patronymic. When this
compound of cabin and forecastle received the order just related, he
touched the lock of hair on his forehead, a ceremony he always used
before he spoke to Sir Gervaise, the hat being removed at some three or
four yards' distance, and made his customary answer of—

"Ay-ay-sir—your honour has been a young gentleman yourself, and knows
what a young gentleman's stomach gets to be, a'ter a six months' fast in
the Bay of Biscay; and a young gentleman's
boy's
stomach, too. I
always thinks there's but a small chance for us, sir, when I sees six or
eight of them light cruisers in my neighbourhood. They're som'mat like
the sloops and cutters of a fleet, which picks up all the prizes."

"Quite true, Master Galleygo; but if the light cruisers get the prizes,
you should recollect that the admiral always has his share of the
prize-money."

"Yes, sir, I knows we has our share, but that's accordin' to law, and
because the commanders of the light craft can't help it. Let 'em once
get the law on their side, and not a ha'pence would bless our pockets!
No, sir, what we gets, we gets by the law; and as there is no law to
fetch up young gentlemen or their boys, that pays as they goes, we never
gets any thing they or their boys puts hands on."

"I dare say you are right, David, as you always are. It wouldn't be a
bad thing to have an Act of Parliament to give an admiral his twentieth
in the reefers' foragings. The old fellows would sometimes get back some
of their own poultry and fruit in that way, hey! Atwood?"

The secretary smiled his assent, and then Sir Gervaise apologized to his
host, repeated the order to the steward, and the party proceeded.

"This fellow of mine, Sir Wycherly, is no respecter of persons, beyond
the etiquette of a man-of-war," the admiral continued, by way of further
excuse. "I believe His Majesty himself would be favoured with an essay
on some part of the economy of the cabin, were Galleygo to get an
opportunity of speaking his mind to him. Nor is the fool without his
expectations of some day enjoying this privilege; for the last lime I
went to court, I found honest David rigged, from stem to stern, in a
full suit of claret and steel, under the idea that he was 'to sail in
company with me,' as he called it, 'with or without signal!'"

"There was nothing surprising in that, Sir Gervaise," observed the
secretary. "Galleygo has sailed in company with you so long, and to so
many strange lands; has been through so many dangers at your side, and
has got so completely to consider himself as part of the family, that it
was the most natural thing in the world he should expect to go to court
with you."

"True enough. The fellow would face the devil, at my side, and I don't
see why he should hesitate to face the king. I sometimes call him Lady
Oakes, Sir Wycherly, for he appears to think he has a right of dower, or
to some other lawyer-like claim on my estate; and as for the fleet, he
always speaks of
that
, as if we commanded it in common. I wonder how
Bluewater tolerates the blackguard; for he never scruples to allude to
him as under
our
orders! If any thing should befal me, Dick and David
would have a civil war for the succession, hey! Atwood?"

"I think military subordination would bring Galleygo to his senses, Sir
Gervaise, should such an unfortunate accident occur—which Heaven avert
for many years to come! There is Admiral Bluewater coming up the street,
at this very moment, sir."

At this sudden announcement, the whole party turned to look in the
direction intimated by the secretary. It was by this time at one end of
the short street, and all saw a man just entering the other, who, in his
walk, air, attire, and manner, formed a striking contrast to the active,
merry, bustling, youthful young sailors who thronged the hamlet. In
person, Admiral Bluewater was exceedingly tall and exceedingly thin.
Like most seamen who have that physical formation, he stooped; a
circumstance that gave his years a greater apparent command over his
frame, than they possessed in reality. While this bend in his figure
deprived it, in a great measure, of the sturdy martial air that his
superior presented to the observer, it lent to his carriage a quiet and
dignity that it might otherwise have wanted. Certainly, were this
officer attired like an ordinary civilian, no one would have taken him
for one of England's bravest and most efficient sea-captains; he would
have passed rather as some thoughtful, well-educated, and refined
gentleman, of retired habits, diffident of himself, and a stranger to
ambition. He wore an undress rear-admiral's uniform, as a matter of
course; but he wore it carelessly, as if from a sense of duty only; or
conscious that no arrangement could give him a military air. Still all
about his person was faultlessly neat, and perfectly respectable. In a
word, no one but a man accustomed to the sea, were it not for his
uniform, would suspect the rear-admiral of being a sailor; and even the
seaman himself might be often puzzled to detect any other signs of the
profession about him, than were to be found in a face, which, fair,
gentlemanly, handsome, and even courtly as it was, in expression and
outline, wore the tint that exposure invariably stamps on the mariner's
countenance. Here, however, his unseaman-like character ceased. Admiral
Oakes had often declared that "Dick Bluewater knew more about a ship
than any man in England;" and as for a fleet, his mode of manoeuvring
one had got to be standard in the service.

As soon as Sir Gervaise recognised his friend, he expressed a wish to
wait for him, which was courteously converted by Sir Wycherly into a
proposition to return and meet him. So abstracted was Admiral Bluewater,
however, that he did not see the party that was approaching him, until
he was fairly accosted by Sir Gervaise, who led the advance by a few
yards.

"Good-day to you, Bluewater," commenced the latter, in his familiar,
off-hand way; "I'm glad you have torn yourself away from your ship;
though I must say the manner in which you came-to, in that fog, was more
like instinct, than any thing human! I determined to tell you as much,
the moment we met; for I don't think there is a ship, half her length
out of mathematical order, notwithstanding the tide runs, here, like a
race-horse."

"That is owing to your captains, Sir Gervaise," returned the other,
observing the respect of manner, that the inferior never loses with his
superior, on service, and in a navy; let their relative rank and
intimacy be what they may on all other occasions; "good captains make
handy ships. Our gentlemen have now been together so long, that they
understand each other's movements; and every vessel in the fleet has her
character as well as her commander!"

"Very true, Admiral Bluewater, and yet there is not another officer in
His Majesty's service, that could have brought a fleet to anchor, in so
much order, and in such a fog; and I ask your leave, sir, most
particularly to thank you for the lesson you have given, not only to the
captains, but to the commander-in-chief. I presume I may admire that
which I cannot exactly imitate."

The rear-admiral merely smiled and touched his hat in acknowledgment of
the compliment, but he made no direct answer in words. By this time Sir
Wycherly and the others had approached, and the customary introductions
took place. Sir Wycherly now pressed his new acquaintance to join his
guests, with so much heartiness, that there was no such thing as
refusing.

"Since you and Sir Gervaise both insist on it so earnestly, Sir
Wycherly," returned the rear-admiral, "I must consent; but as it is
contrary to our practice, when on foreign service—and I call this
roadstead a foreign station, as to any thing we know about it—as it is
contrary to our practice for both flag-officers to sleep out of the
fleet, I shall claim the privilege to be allowed to go off to my ship
before midnight. I think the weather looks settled, Sir Gervaise, and we
may trust that many hours, without apprehension."

"Pooh—pooh—Bluewater, you are always fancying the ships in a gale, and
clawing off a lee-shore. Put your heart at rest, and let us go and take
a comfortable dinner with Sir Wycherly, who has a London paper, I dare
to say, that may let us into some of the secrets of state. Are there any
tidings from our people in Flanders?"

"Things remain pretty much as they have been," returned Sir Wycherly,
"since that last terrible affair, in which the Duke got the better of
the French at—I never can remember an outlandish name; but it sounds
something like a Christian baptism. If my poor brother, St. James, were
living, now, he could tell us all about it."

"Christian baptism! That's an odd allusion for a field of battle. The
armies can't have got to Jerusalem; hey! Atwood?"

"I rather think, Sir Gervaise," the secretary coolly remarked, "that Sir
Wycherly Wychecombe refers to the battle that took place last spring—it
was fought at Font-something; and a font certainly has something to do
with Christian baptism."

"That's it—that's it," cried Sir Wycherly, with some eagerness;
"Fontenoï was the name of the place, where the Duke would have carried
all before him, and brought Marshal Saxe, and all his frog-eaters
prisoners to England, had our Dutch and German allies behaved better
than they did. So it is with poor old England, gentlemen; whatever
she
gains, her allies always
lose
for her—the Germans, or the colonists,
are constantly getting us into trouble!"

Both Sir Gervaise and his friend were practical men, and well knew that
they never fought the Dutch or the French, without meeting with
something that was pretty nearly their match. They had no faith in
general national superiority. The courts-martial that so often succeeded
general actions, had taught them that there were all degrees of spirit,
as well as all degrees of a want of spirit; and they knew too much, to
be the dupes of flourishes of the pen, or of vapid declamation at
dinner-speeches, and in the House of Commons. Men, well led and
commanded, they had ascertained by experience, were worth twice as much
as the same men when ill led and ill commanded; and they were not to be
told that the moral tone of an army or a fleet, from which all its
success was derived, depended more on the conventional feeling that had
been got up through moral agencies, than on birth-place, origin, or
colour. Each glanced his eye significantly at the other, and a sarcastic
smile passed over the face of Sir Gervaise, though his friend maintained
his customary appearance of gravity.