 | English Roses |  |
AN OBJECT LESSON.
“Hang it,” said the General, “it haunted,
Sir, and plagued my blessed life for years
With a waking nightmare, though I vaunted
I was not by man or spectre daunted,
And as free as any one from fears;
Even now when shadows lay
Ghostly hands on dying day,
Sometimes yet the horror re-appears
With curst features like no creature's
Driving all my peace away;
And I see, arising from the dead,
That old vision of the bloody head.”
Sir, and plagued my blessed life for years
With a waking nightmare, though I vaunted
I was not by man or spectre daunted,
And as free as any one from fears;
Even now when shadows lay
Ghostly hands on dying day,
Sometimes yet the horror re-appears
With curst features like no creature's
Driving all my peace away;
And I see, arising from the dead,
That old vision of the bloody head.”
“Well,” proceeded he, “I had a crony
In the Guards, a twentieth cousin too
Big of heart and frame, a match for Bony
In strategic plans, a stout Malony
And engaged to Lady— God knows who!
Just the counterpart of me,
Brothers could not more agree;
And a devil quite to dare or do
Feast or scrimmage, to the image
Of some mad Corroboree.
Side by side we daily romped and wrought
Mirth or mischief, and together fought.
In the Guards, a twentieth cousin too
Big of heart and frame, a match for Bony
In strategic plans, a stout Malony
And engaged to Lady— God knows who!
Just the counterpart of me,
Brothers could not more agree;
And a devil quite to dare or do
Feast or scrimmage, to the image
Of some mad Corroboree.
Side by side we daily romped and wrought
Mirth or mischief, and together fought.
146
“Then came Arabi, and we discarded,
Loo for Waterloo or work like that;
And the Fellahs had to be belarded
With their own sweet gravy, and bombarded
To submission and an old cocked hat;
And we two were drafted out
Gaily, and despite the gout,
On this cure for our superfluous fat;
And each other blooming bother
We had shared, with every clout.
Till at length dark Tel-el-Kebir came,
And the midnight march and wall of flame.
Loo for Waterloo or work like that;
And the Fellahs had to be belarded
With their own sweet gravy, and bombarded
To submission and an old cocked hat;
And we two were drafted out
Gaily, and despite the gout,
On this cure for our superfluous fat;
And each other blooming bother
We had shared, with every clout.
Till at length dark Tel-el-Kebir came,
And the midnight march and wall of flame.
“Tim was heaping curses like a glutton's
On our Wolseley, who let Gordon die—
Just to maunder of his private muttons,
Or economise in straps and buttons—
Glossing all with the official lie;
Both of us were leading then
Gladly on our eager men,
Bound by courage in one living tie.
We were waiting, for the baiting
Of the badger, in his iron den;
And we drew him finely forth, though some
Soon passed in their checks to Kingdom Come.
On our Wolseley, who let Gordon die—
Just to maunder of his private muttons,
Or economise in straps and buttons—
Glossing all with the official lie;
Both of us were leading then
Gladly on our eager men,
Bound by courage in one living tie.
We were waiting, for the baiting
Of the badger, in his iron den;
And we drew him finely forth, though some
Soon passed in their checks to Kingdom Come.
“Many a gallant comrade then was stricken
Down and lost the number of his mess,
Or got there the curse that made him sicken—
Aye, and now it bids my pulses quicken,
Just to tell once more that stormy stress;
When we chased the vermin fast
From their hiding holes aghast,
Leaving vultures damage to assess.
Red as clover, when was over
Night, the reaping of that passion past;
Friend and foe lay jostled stiff and stark,
Equal now and sealed with one pale mark.
Down and lost the number of his mess,
Or got there the curse that made him sicken—
Aye, and now it bids my pulses quicken,
Just to tell once more that stormy stress;
When we chased the vermin fast
From their hiding holes aghast,
Leaving vultures damage to assess.
Red as clover, when was over
Night, the reaping of that passion past;
Friend and foe lay jostled stiff and stark,
Equal now and sealed with one pale mark.
“Tim was foremost, in that pack of parrots
Shrieking oaths and hatred and blue funk,
Laughing, thrusting, saving lives like Marrot's
And (he shouted fiercly), ‘Slicing carrots,’
Sober yet demented as if drunk;
Cheering, guiding on his best
With the jabbing sword and jest
Men inspired with no less hardy spunk.
Till a volley, in his folly
Spat its last nor spared that hero breast;
And one ball, mid that dire damnèd rain,
Shore the body and the head atwain.”
Shrieking oaths and hatred and blue funk,
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And (he shouted fiercly), ‘Slicing carrots,’
Sober yet demented as if drunk;
Cheering, guiding on his best
With the jabbing sword and jest
Men inspired with no less hardy spunk.
Till a volley, in his folly
Spat its last nor spared that hero breast;
And one ball, mid that dire damnèd rain,
Shore the body and the head atwain.”
Now the General just paused and lighted
Sadly a cheroot and smoked, and sware
Thoughtfully with zest, as if that righted
Nerve and balance for a bit benighted,
Or relieved him of a crushing care;
And continued—“Then the clock
Brought the shadow and the shock
Round again of what that fight we bare;
And the minute, we were in it,
Struck my heart as with a judgment knock;
While we dined and drank, one silent spell,
To the friends who in that battle fell.
Sadly a cheroot and smoked, and sware
Thoughtfully with zest, as if that righted
Nerve and balance for a bit benighted,
Or relieved him of a crushing care;
And continued—“Then the clock
Brought the shadow and the shock
Round again of what that fight we bare;
And the minute, we were in it,
Struck my heart as with a judgment knock;
While we dined and drank, one silent spell,
To the friends who in that battle fell.
“Lo!”—and here his words grew calm and colder
And he wiped his forehead of the sweat,
Looking for the time a decade older
With a furtive glance across his shoulder
And a movement half a thrust or threat—
“Suddenly, unlike the dead
Rose and rolled a bloody head
Down the board where we survivors met;
Grim and gory, with their story
In his eyes that turned upon us read;
Big with fun and headlong fury still,
Ready yet to strike once more and kill.
And he wiped his forehead of the sweat,
Looking for the time a decade older
With a furtive glance across his shoulder
And a movement half a thrust or threat—
“Suddenly, unlike the dead
Rose and rolled a bloody head
Down the board where we survivors met;
Grim and gory, with their story
In his eyes that turned upon us read;
Big with fun and headlong fury still,
Ready yet to strike once more and kill.
“Thrice”—he added, and his brow maligned him
When he mumbled the old fear had fled
And it was but gout that so inclined him,
As he cast a cautious peep behind him—
“Thrice that ghastly face which grinned and bled,
Unawares upon us burst
Like an unlaid thing accurst—
All the horror of that Bloody Head;
Down the table rolled unstable,
Daring us to do what no man durst;
When we would recall our grievous blanks,
And the comrades fallen from the ranks.
When he mumbled the old fear had fled
And it was but gout that so inclined him,
As he cast a cautious peep behind him—
148
Unawares upon us burst
Like an unlaid thing accurst—
All the horror of that Bloody Head;
Down the table rolled unstable,
Daring us to do what no man durst;
When we would recall our grievous blanks,
And the comrades fallen from the ranks.
So we stocked (what you would call) the bursary
Next year with each dainty we could store,
Catching too a Bishop on a cursory
Tour and booked him for the anniversary
Which we meant to honour as before.
And his blessing proved too long
Or the piety too strong
For our Tim, and he appeared no more.
Benediction our affliction
Cured, and the Right Reverend gave a comic song;
For, though Tim was first at danger's side,
Prayer was what he never could abide.”
Next year with each dainty we could store,
Catching too a Bishop on a cursory
Tour and booked him for the anniversary
Which we meant to honour as before.
And his blessing proved too long
Or the piety too strong
For our Tim, and he appeared no more.
Benediction our affliction
Cured, and the Right Reverend gave a comic song;
For, though Tim was first at danger's side,
Prayer was what he never could abide.”
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