University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.

The reader will remember that the wind had not become
fresh when Sir Gervaise Oakes got into his barge, with the
intention of carrying his fleet to sea. A retrospective glance
at the state of the weather, will become necessary to the
reader, therefore, in carrying his mind back to that precise
period, whither it has now become our duty to transport
him in imagination.

The vice-admiral governed a fleet on principles very different
from those of Bluewater. While the last left so much
to the commanders of the different vessels, his friend looked
into everything himself. The details of the service he knew
were indispensable to success on a larger scale, and his
active mind descended into all these minutiæ, to a degree
sometimes, that annoyed his captains. On the whole, how

ever, he was sufficiently observant of that formidable barrier
to excessive familiarity, and that great promoter of heart-burnings
in a squadron, naval etiquette, to prevent anything
like serious misunderstandings, and the best feelings prevailed
between him and the several magnates under his
orders. Perhaps the circumstance that he was a fighting
admiral contributed to this internal tranquillity; for, it has
been often remarked, that armies and fleets will both tolerate
more in leaders that give them plenty to do with the
enemy, than in commanders who leave them inactive and
less exposed. The constant encounters with the foe would
seem to let out all the superfluous quarrelsome tendencies.
Nelson, to a certain extent, was an example of this influence
in the English marine, Suffren[1] in that of France, and
Preble, to a much greater degree than in either of the other
cases, in our own. At all events, while most of his captains
sensibly felt themselves less of commanders, while Sir Gervaise
was on board or around their ships, than when he was
in the cabin of the Plantagenet, the peace was rarely broken
between them, and he was generally beloved as well as
obeyed. Bluewater was a more invariable favourite, perhaps,
though scarcely as much respected; and certainly
not half as much feared.

On the present occasion, the vice-admiral did not pull
through the fleet, without discovering the peculiar propensity
to which we have alluded. In passing one of the ships,
he made a sign to his coxswain to cause the boat's crew to
lay on their oars, when he hailed the vessel, and the following
dialogue occurred.

“Carnatic, ahoy!” cried the admiral.

“Sir,” exclaimed the officer of the deck, jumping on a
quarter-deck gun, and raising his hat.

“Is Captain Parker on board, sir?”

“He is, Sir Gervaise; will you see him, sir?”

A nod of the head sufficed to bring the said Captain Parker
on deck, and to the gangway, where he could converse with
his superior, without inconvenience to either.

“How do you do, Captain Parker?”—a certain sign Sir
Gervaise meant to rap the other over the knuckles, else
would it have been Parker.—“How do you do, Captain
Parker? I am sorry to see you have got your ship too
much down by the head, sir. She 'll steer off the wind, like
a colt when he first feels the bridle; now with his head on
one side, and now on the other. You know I like a compact
line, and straight wakes, sir.”

“I am well aware of that, Sir Gervaise,” returned Parker,
a grey-headed, meek old man, who had fought his way up
from the forecastle to his present honourable station, and,
who, though brave as a lion before the enemy, had a particular
dread of all his commanders; “but we have been obliged
to use more water aft than we could wish, on account of the
tiers. We shall coil away the cables anew, and come at
some of the leaguers forward, and bring all right again, in
a week, I hope, sir.”

“A week? — the d—l, sir; that will never do, when I
expect to see de Vervillin to-morrow. Fill all your empty
casks aft with salt-water, immediately; and if that wont do,
shift some of your shot from forward. I know that craft of
yours, well; she is as tender as a fellow with corns, and the
shoe musn't pinch anywhere.”

“Very well, Sir Gervaise; the ship shall be brought in
trim, as soon as possible.”

“Ay, ay, sir, that is what I expect from every vessel, at
all times; and more especially when we are ready to meet
an enemy. And, I say, Parker,”—making a sign to his
boat's crew to stop rowing again—“I say, Parker, I know
you love brawn;—I 'll send you some that Galleygo tells
me he has picked up, along-shore here, as soon as I get
aboard. The fellow has been robbing all the hen-roosts in
Devonshire, by his own account of the matter.”

Sir Gervaise waved his hand, Parker smiled and bowed

his thanks, and the two parted with feelings of perfect kindness,
notwithstanding the little skirmish with which the
interview had commenced.

“Mr. Williamson,” said Captain Parker to his first lieutenant,
on quitting the gangway, “you hear what the commander-in-chief
says; and he must be obeyed. I don't
think the Carnatic would have sheered out of the line, even
if she is a little by the head; but have the empty casks
filled, and bring her down six inches more by the stern.”

“That 's a good fellow, that old Parker,” said Sir Gervaise
to his purser, whom he was carrying off good-naturedly
to the ship, lest he might lose his passage; “and I wonder
how he let his ship get her nose under water, in that fashion.
I like to have him for a second astern; for I feel sure he 'd
follow if I stood into Cherbourg, bows on! Yes; a good
fellow is Parker; and, Locker,”—to his own man, who was
also in the boat;—“mind you send him two of the best
pieces of that brawn—hey!—hey!—hey!—what the d—l
has Lord Morganic”—a descendant from royalty, by the
left-hand,—“been doing now! That ship is kept like a
tailor's lay-figure, just to stuff jackets and gim-cracks on
her—Achilles, there!”

A quarter-master ran to the edge of the poop, and then
turning, he spoke to his captain, who was walking the deck,
and informed him that the commander-in-chief hailed the
ship. The Earl of Morganic, a young man of four-and-twenty,
who had succeeded to the title a few years before by
the death of an elder brother,—the usual process by which
an old peer is brought into the British navy, the work being
too discouraging for those who have fortune before their
eyes from the start,—now advanced to the quarter of the
ship, bowed with respectful ease, and spoke with a self-possession
that not one of the old commanders of the fleet would
have dared to use. In general, this nobleman's intercourse
with his superiors in naval rank, betrayed the consciousness
of his own superiority in civil rank; but, Sir Gervaise being
of an old family, and quite as rich as he was himself, the
vice-admiral commanded more of his homage than was customary.
His ship was full of “nobs,” as they term it in
the British navy, or the sons and relatives of nobles; and
it was by no means an uncommon thing for her messes to

have their jokes at the expense of even flag-officers, who
were believed to be a little ignorant of the peculiar sensibilities
that are rightly enough imagined to characterize social
station.

“Good-morning, Sir Gervaise,” called out this noble
captain; “I 'm glad to see you looking so well, after our
long cruise in the Bay; I intended to have the honour to
inquire after your health in person, this morning, but they
told me you slept out of your ship. We shall have to hold
a court on you, sir, if you fall much into that habit!”

All within hearing smiled, even to the rough old tars,
who were astraddle of the yards; and even Sir Gervaise's
lip curled a little, though he was not exactly in a joking
humour.

“Come, come, Morganic, do you let my habits alone, and
look out for your own fore-top-mast. Why, in the name
of seamnship, is that spar stayed forward in such a fashion,
looking like a xebec's foremast?”

“Do you dislike it, Sir Gervaise?—Now to our fancies
aboard here, it gives the Achilles a knowing look, and we
hope to set a fashion. By carrying the head-sails well forward,
we help the ship round in a sea, you know, sir.”

“Indeed, I know no such thing, my lord. What you gain
after being taken aback, you lose in coming to the wind.
If I had a pair of scales suitable to such a purpose, I would
have all that hamper you have stayed away yonder over
your bows, on the end of such a long lever, weighed, in
order that you might learn what a beautiful contrivance
you've invented, among you, to make a ship pitch in a head
sea. Why, d—e, if I think you 'd lie-to, at all, with so
much stuff aloft to knock you off to leeward. Come up,
everything, forward; come up everything, my lord, and
bring the mast as near perpendicular as possible. It 's a
hard matter, I find, to make one of your new-fashioned
captains keep things in their places.”

“Well, now, Sir Gervaise, I think the Achilles makes as
good an appearance as most of the other ships; and as to
travelling or working, I do not know that she is either dull
or clumsy!”

“She 's pretty well, Morganic, considering how many
Bond-street ideas you have got among you; but she 'll never

do in a head sea, with that fore-top-mast threatening your
knight-heads. So get the mast up-and-down, again, as soon
as convenient, and come and dine with me, without further
invitation, the first fine day we have at sea. I 'm going to
send Parker some brawn; but, I 'll feed you on some of
Galleygo's turtle-soup, made out of pig's heads.”

“Thank 'ee, Sir Gervaise; we 'll endeavour to straighten
the stick, since you will have it so; though, I confess I get
tired of seeing everything to-day, just as we had it yesterday.”

“Yes—yes—that 's the way with most of them St. James
cruisers,” continued the vice-admiral, as he rowed away.
“They want a fashionable tailor to rig a man-of-war, as
they are rigged themselves. There 's my old friend and
neighbour, Lord Scupperton—he 's taken a fancy to yachting,
lately, and when his new brig was put into the water,
Lady Scupperton made him send for an upholsterer from
town to fit out the cabin; and when the blackguard had surveyed
the unfortunate craft, as if it were a country box,
what does he do but give an opinion, that `this here edifice,
my lord, in my judgment, should be furnished in cottage
style,'—the vagabond!”

This story, which was not particularly original, for Sir
Gervaise himself had told it at least a dozen times before,
put the admiral in a good humour, and he found no more
fault with his captains, until he reached the Plantagenet.

“Daly,” said the Earl of Morganic to his first lieutenant,
an experienced old Irishman of fifty, who still sung a good
song and told a good story, and what was a little extraordinary
for either of these accomplishments, knew how to take
good care of a ship;—“Daly, I suppose we must humour
the old gentleman, or he 'll be quarantining me, and that I
shouldn't particularly like on the eve of a general action;
so we 'll ease off forward, and set up the strings aft, again.
Hang me if I think he could find it out if we didn't, so long
as we kept dead in his wake!”

“That wouldn't be a very safe desait for Sir Jarvy, my
lord, for he 's a wonderful eye for a rope! Were it Admiral
Blue, now, I 'd engage to cruise in his company for a week,
with my mizzen-mast stowed in the hold, and there should
be no bother about the novelty, at all; quite likely he 'd be

hailing us, and ask `what brig 's that?' But none of these
tricks will answer with t'other, who misses the whipping off
the end of a gasket, as soon as any first luff of us all. And
so I 'll just go about the business in earnest; get the carpenter
up with his plumb-bob, and set everything as straight
up-and-down as the back of a grenadier.”

Lord Morganic laughed, as was usual with him when his
lieutenant saw fit to be humorous; and then his caprice in
changing the staying of his masts, as well as the order
which countermanded it, was forgotten.

The arrival of Sir Gervaise on board his own ship was
always an event in the fleet, even though his absence had
lasted no longer than twenty-four hours. The effect was
like that which is produced on a team of high-mettled cattle,
when they feel that the reins are in the hands of an experienced
and spirited coachman.

“Good-morning, Greenly, good-morning to you all, gentlemen,”
said the vice-admiral, bowing to the quarter-deck
in gross, in return for the `present-arms,' and rattling of
drums, and lowering of hats that greeted his arrival; “a
fine day, and it is likely we shall have a fresh breeze.
Captain Greenly, your sprit-sail-yard wants squaring by
the lifts; and, Bunting, make the Thunderer's signal to get
her fore-yard in its place, as soon as possible. She 's had
it down long enough to make a new one, instead of merely
fishing it. Are your boats all aboard, Greenly?”

“All but your own barge, Sir Gervaise, and that is hooked
on.”

“In with it, sir; then trip, and we 'll be off. Monsieur
de Vervillin has got some mischief in his head, gentlemen,
and we must go and take it out of him.”

These orders were promptly obeyed; but, as the manner
in which the Plantagenet passed out of the fleet, and led the
other ships to sea, has been already related, it is unnecessary
to repeat it. There was the usual bustle, the customary
orderly confusion, the winding of calls, the creaking of
blocks, and the swinging of yards, ere the vessels were in
motion. As the breeze freshened, sail was reduced, as
already related, until, by the time the leading ship was ten
leagues at sea, all were under short canvass, and the appearance
of a windy, if not a dirty night, had set in. Of

course, all means of communication between the Plantagenet
and the vessels still at anchor, had ceased, except by sending
signals down the line; but, to those Sir Gervaise had
no recourse, since he was satisfied Bluewater understood his
plans, and he then entertained no manner of doubt of his
friend's willingness to aid them.

Little heed was taken of anything 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 in-shore 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 to-bacco
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
anything 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
a 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 innovations,
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 anything 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 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. 'T was 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 signals; 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 anything out of the common track occur,
was repeated no less than four times.