CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
IN WHICH OUR HERO IS BROUGHT UP ALL STANDING UNDER A PRESS OF SAIL.
Our limits will not permit us to relate all that passed during ourhero's stay of a fortnight at Don Rebiera's. He and Gascoigne weretreated as if they were his own sons, and the kindness of the femalepart of the family was equally remarkable. Agnes, naturally perhaps,showed a preference or partiality for Jack: to which Gascoigne willinglysubmitted, as he felt that our hero had a prior and stronger claim, andduring the time that they remained a feeling of attachment was createdbetween Agnes and the philosopher, which, if not love, was at leastsomething very near akin to it; but the fact was, that they were bothmuch too young to think of marriage; and, although they walked andtalked, and laughed, and played together, they were always at home intime for their dinner. Still, the young lady thought she preferred ourhero even to her brothers, and Jack thought that the young lady was theprettiest and kindest girl that he had ever met with. At the end of thefortnight our two midshipmen took their leave, furnished with letters ofrecommendation to many of the first nobility in Palermo, and mounted ontwo fine mules with bell bridles. The old Donna kissed them both--theDon showered down his blessings of good wishes, and Donna Agnes's lipstrembled as she bade them adieu; and, as soon as they were gone, shewent up to her chamber and wept. Jack also was very grave, and his eyesmoistened at the thoughts of leaving Agnes. Neither of them were aware,until the hour of parting, how much they had wound themselves together.
The first quarter of an hour our two midshipmen followed their guide insilence. Jack wished to be left to his own thoughts, and Gascoigneperceived it.
"Well, Easy," said Gascoigne, at last, "if I had been in your place,constantly in company of, and loved by, that charming girl, I couldnever have torn myself away."
"Loved by her, Ned!" replied Jack; "what makes you say that?"
"Because I am sure it was the case; she lived but in your presence.Why, if you were out of the room, she never spoke a word, but sat thereas melancholy as a sick monkey--the moment you came in again she beamedout as glorious as the sun, and was all life and spirit."
"I thought people were always melancholy when they were in love,"replied Jack.
"When those that they love are out of their presence."
"Well, then, I am out of her presence, and I feel very melancholy, so Isuppose, by your argument, I am in love. Can a man be in love withoutknowing it?"
"I really cannot say, Jack, I never was in love myself, but I've seenmany others _spooney_. My time will come, I suppose, by-and-bye. Theysay that for every man made there is a woman also made to fit him, if hecould only find her. Now, it's my opinion that you have found yours--I'll lay my life she's crying at this moment."
"Do you really think so, Ned? let's go back--poor little Agnes--let's goback; I feel I do love her, and I'll tell her so."
"Pooh, nonsense! it's too late now; you should have told her thatbefore, when you walked with her in the garden."
"But I did not know it, Ned. However, as you say, it would be foolishto turn back, so I'll write to her from Palermo."
Here an argument ensued upon love, which we shall not trouble the readerwith, as it was not very profound, both sides knowing very little on thesubject. It did, however, end with our hero being convinced that he wasdesperately in love, and he talked about giving up the service as soonas he arrived at Malta. It is astonishing what sacrifices midshipmenwill make for the objects of their adoration.
It was not until late in the evening that our adventurers arrived atPalermo. As soon as they were lodged at the hotel, Gascoigne sat downand wrote a letter in their joint names to Don Rebiera, returning himmany thanks for his great kindness, informing him of their safe arrival,and trusting that they should soon meet again: and Jack took up his pen,and indited a letter in Spanish to Agnes, in which he swore that neithertide nor time, nor water, nor air, nor heaven, nor earth, nor the firstlieutenant, nor his father, nor absence, nor death itself, shouldprevent him from coming back and marrying her, the first convenientopportunity, begging her to refuse a thousand offers, as come back hewould, although there was no saying when. It was a perfect love-letter,that is to say, it was the essence of nonsense, but that made itperfect, for the greater the love the greater the folly.
These letters were consigned to the man who was sent as their guide, andalso had to return with the mules. He was liberally rewarded; and, asJack told him to be very careful of his letter, the Italian naturallyconcluded that it was to be delivered clandestinely, and he delivered itaccordingly, at a time when Agnes was walking in the garden thinking ofour hero. Nothing was more opportune than the arrival of the letter;Agnes ran to the pavilion, read it over twenty times, kissed it twentytimes, and hid it in her bosom; sat for a few minutes in deep and placidthought, took the letter out of its receptacle, and read it over andover again. It was very bad Spanish and very absurd, but she thought itdelightful, poetical, classical, sentimental, argumentative, convincing,incontrovertible, imaginative, and even grammatical, for if it was notgood Spanish, there was no Spanish half so good. Alas! Agnes was,indeed, unsophisticated, to be in such ecstasies with a midshipman'slove-letter. Once more she hastened to her room to weep, but it wasfrom excess of joy and delight. The reader may think Agnes silly, buthe must take into consideration the climate, and that she was not yetfifteen.
Our young gentlemen sent for a tailor and each ordered a new suit ofclothes; they delivered their letters of recommendation, and went to thebanker to whom they were addressed by Don Rebiera.
"I shall draw for ten pounds, Jack," said Gascoigne, "on the strength ofthe shipwreck; I shall tell the truth, all except that we forgot to askfor leave, which I shall leave out; and I am sure the story will beworth ten pounds. What shall you draw for, Jack?"
"I shall draw for two hundred pounds," replied Jack; "I mean to have agood cruise while I can."
"But will your governor stand that, Easy?"
"To be sure he will."
"Then you're right--he is a philosopher--I wish he'd teach mine, for hehates the sight of a bill."
"Then don't you draw, Ned--I have plenty for both. If every man had hisequal share and rights in the world, you would be as able to draw asmuch as I; and, as you cannot, upon the principles of equality, youshall have half."
"I really shall become a convert to your philosophy, Jack; it does notappear to be so nonsensical as I thought it. At all events it has savedmy old governor ten pounds, which he can ill afford, as a colonel onhalf-pay."
On their return to the inn, they found Don Philip and Don Martin, towhom Don Rebiera had written, who welcomed them with open arms. Theywere two very fine young men of eighteen and nineteen, who werefinishing their education in the army. Jack asked them to dinner, andthey and our hero soon became inseparable. They took him to all thetheatres, the conversaziones of all the nobility, and, as Jack lost hismoney with good humour, and was a very handsome fellow, he waseverywhere well received and was made much of: many ladies made love tohim, but Jack was only very polite, because he thought more and more ofAgnes every day. Three weeks passed away like lightning, and neitherJack nor Gascoigne thought of going back. At last, one fine day, H.M.frigate _Aurora_ anchored in the bay, and Jack and Gascoigne, who wereat a party at the Duke of Pentaro's, met with the captain of the_Aurora_, who was also invited. The duchess introduced them to CaptainTartar, who, imagining them, from their being in plain clothes, to beyoung Englishmen of fortune on their travels, was very gracious andcondescending. Jack was so pleased with his urbanity that he requestedthe pleasure of his company to dinner the next day: Captain Tartaraccepted the invitation, and they parted, shaking hands, with manyexpressions of pleasure in having made his acquaintance. Jack's partywas rather large, and the dinner sumptuous. The Sicilian gentlemen didnot drink much wine, but Captain Tartar liked his bottle, and althoughthe rest of the company quitted the table to go to a ball given thatevening by the Marquesa Novara, Jack was t
oo polite not to sit it outwith the captain: Gascoigne closed his chair to Jack's, who, he wasafraid, being a little affected with the wine, would "let the cat out ofthe bag."
The captain was amazingly entertaining. Jack told him how happy heshould be to see him at Forest Hill, which property the captaindiscovered to contain six thousand acres of land, and also that Jack wasan only son; and Captain Tartar was quite respectful when he found thathe was in such very excellent company. The captain of the frigateinquired of Jack what brought him out here, and Jack, whose prudence wasdeparting, told him that he came in his Majesty's ship _Harpy_.Gascoigne gave Jack a nudge, but was of no use, for as the wine got intoJack's brain, so did his notions of equality.
"Oh! Wilson gave you a passage; he's an old friend of mine."
"So he is of ours," replied Jack; "he's a devilish good sort of afellow, Wilson."
"But where have you been since you came out?" inquired Captain Tartar.
"In the _Harpy_," replied Jack, "to be sure, I belong to her."
"You belong to her! in what capacity may I ask?" inquired CaptainTartar, in a much less respectful and confidential tone.
"Midshipman," replied Jack; "so is Mr Gascoigne."
"Umph! you are on leave then."
"No, indeed," replied Jack; "I'll tell you how it is, my dear fellow."
"Excuse me for one moment," replied Captain Tartar, rising up; "I mustgive some directions to my servant which I forgot."
Captain Tartar hailed his coxswain out of the window, gave orders justoutside of the door, and then returned to the table. In the meantime,Gascoigne, who expected a breeze, had been cautioning Jack, in a lowtone, at intervals, when Captain Tartar's back was turned; but it wasuseless, the extra quantity of wine had got into Jack's head, and hecared nothing for Gascoigne's remonstrance. When the captain resumedhis seat at the table, Jack gave him the true narrative of all that hadpassed, to which his guest paid the greatest attention. Jack wound uphis confidence by saying that in a week or so he should go back to DonRebiera and propose for Donna Agnes.
"Ah!" exclaimed Captain Tartar, drawing his breath with astonishment andcompressing his lips.
"Tartar, the wine stands with you," said Jack, "allow me to help you."
Captain Tartar threw himself back in his chair, and let all the air outof his chest with a sort of whistle, as if he could hardly containhimself.
"Have you had wine enough?" said Jack, very politely; "if so, we will goto the Marquesa's."
The coxswain came to the door, touched his hat to the captain, andlooked significantly.
"And so, sir," cried Captain Tartar, in a voice of thunder, rising fromhis chair, "you're a damned runaway midshipman, who, if you belonged tomy ship, instead of marrying Donna Agnes, I would marry you to thegunner's daughter, by God! Two midshipmen sporting plain clothes in thebest society in Palermo, and having the impudence to ask a post-captainto dine with them! To ask me, and address me as _Tartar_, and _my dearfellow_! you infernal young scamps!" continued Captain Tartar, nowboiling with rage, and striking his fist on the table so as to set allthe glasses waltzing.
"Allow me to observe, sir," said Jack, who was completely sobered by theaddress, "that we do not belong to your ship, and that we are in plainclothes."
"In plain clothes--midshipmen in mufti--yes, you are so: a couple ofyoung swindlers, without a sixpence in your pocket, passing yourselvesoff as young men of fortune, and walking off through the window withoutpaying your bill."
"Do you mean to call me a swindler, sir?" replied Jack.
"Yes, sir, you--"
"Then you lie," exclaimed our hero, in a rage. "I am a gentleman, sir--I am sorry I cannot pay you the same compliment."
The astonishment and rage of Captain Tartar took away his breath. Hetried to speak, but could not--he gasped and gasped, and then sat oralmost fell down in his chair--at last he recovered himself.
"Matthews--Matthews!"
"Sir," replied the coxswain, who had remained at the door.
"The sergeant of marines."
"Here he is, sir."
The sergeant entered, and raised the back of his hand to his hat.
"Bring your marines in--take charge of these two. Direct you are onboard, put them both legs in irons."
The marines with their bayonets walked in and took possession of ourhero and Gascoigne.
"Perhaps, sir," replied Jack, who was now cool again, "you will permitus to pay our bill before we go on board. We are no swindlers, and itis rather a heavy one--or, as you have taken possession of our persons,you will, perhaps, do us the favour to discharge it yourself;" and Jackthrew on the table a heavy purse of dollars. "I have only to observe,Captain Tartar, that I wish to be very liberal to the waiters."
"Sergeant, let them pay their bill," said Captain Tartar, in a moresubdued tone--taking his hat and sword, and walking out of the room.
"By heavens, Easy, what have you done?--you will be tried by acourt-martial, and turned out of the service."
"I hope so," replied Jack; "I was a fool to come into it. But he calledme a swindler, and I would give the same answer to-morrow."
"If you are ready, gentlemen," said the sergeant, who had been longenough with Captain Tartar to be aware that to be punished by him was noproof of fault having been committed.
"I will go and pack up our things, Easy, while you pay the bill," saidGascoigne. "Marine, you had better come with me."
In less than half an hour, our hero and his comrade, instead of findingthemselves at the Marquesa's ball, found themselves very comfortably inirons under the half-deck of H.M. frigate _Aurora_.
We shall leave them, and return to Captain Tartar, who had proceeded tothe ball, to which he had been invited. On his entering he was accostedby Don Martin and Don Philip, who inquired what had become of our heroand his friend. Captain Tartar, who was in no very good humour, repliedbriskly, "that they were on board his ship in irons."
"In irons! for what?" exclaimed Don Philip.
"Because, sir, they are a couple of young scamps who have introducedthemselves into the best company, passing themselves off as people ofconsequence, when they are only a couple of midshipmen who have run awayfrom their ship."
Now the Rebieras knew very well that Jack and his friend weremidshipmen; but this did not appear to them any reason why they shouldnot be considered as gentlemen, and treated accordingly.
"Do you mean to say, signor," said Don Philip, "that you have acceptedtheir hospitality, laughed, talked, walked arm in arm with them, pledgedthem in wine, as we have seen you this evening, and after they haveconfided in you that you have put them in irons?"
"Yes, sir, I do," replied Captain Tartar.
"Then, by Heaven, you have my defiance, and you are no gentleman!"replied Don Philip, the elder.
"And I repeat my brother's words, sir," cried Don Martin.
The two brothers felt so much attachment for our hero, who had twicerendered such signal service to their family, that their anger waswithout bounds.
In every other service but the English navy there is not that power ofgrossly insulting and then sheltering yourself under your rank; nor isit necessary for the discipline of any service. To these youngofficers, if the power did exist, the use of such power under suchcircumstances appeared monstrous, and they were determined, at allevents, to show to Captain Tartar, that in society, at least, it couldbe resented. They collected their friends, told them what had passed,and begged them to circulate it through the room. This was soon done,and Captain Tartar found himself avoided. He went up to the Marquesaand spoke to her--she turned her head the other way. He addressed acount he had been conversing with the night before--he turned shortround upon his heel, while Don Philip and Don Martin walked up and downtalking, so that he might hear what they said, and looking at him witheyes flashing with indignation. Captain Tartar left the ball-room andreturned to the inn, more indignant than ever. When he rose the nextmorning he was informed that a gentleman wished to spe
ak with him; hesent up his card as Don Ignatio Verez, colonel commanding the fourthregiment of infantry. On being admitted, he informed Captain Tartarthat Don Philip de Rebiera wished to have the pleasure of crossingswords with him, and requested to know when it would be convenient forCaptain Tartar to meet him.
It was not in Captain Tartar's nature to refuse a challenge; his couragewas unquestionable, but he felt indignant that a midshipman should bethe cause of his getting into such a scrape. He accepted the challenge,but having no knowledge of the small-sword, refused to fight unless withpistols. To this the colonel raised no objections, and Captain Tartardespatched his coxswain with a note to his second lieutenant, for he wasnot on good terms with his first. The meeting took place--at the firstfire the ball of Don Philip passed through Captain Tartar's brain, andhe instantly fell dead. The second lieutenant hastened on board toreport the fatal result of the meeting, and shortly after, Don Philipand his brother, with many of their friends, went off in the Governor'sbarge to condole with our hero.
The first lieutenant, now captain _pro tempore_, received themgraciously, and listened to their remonstrances relative to our hero andGascoigne.
"I have never been informed by the captain of the grounds of complaintagainst the young gentlemen," replied he, "and have therefore no changeto prefer against them. I shall therefore order them to be liberated.But, as I learn that they are officers belonging to one of his Majesty'sships lying at Malta, I feel it my duty, as I sail immediately, to takethem there and send them on board of their own ship."
Jack and Gascoigne were then taken out of irons and permitted to see DonPhilip, who informed him that he had revenged the insult, but Jack andGascoigne did not wish to go on shore again after what had passed.After an hour's conversation, and assurances of continued friendship,Don Philip, his brother, and their friends, took leave of our twomidshipmen, and rowed on shore.
And now we must be serious.
We do not write these novels merely to amuse,--we have always had it inour view to instruct, and it must not be supposed that we have no otherend in view than to make the reader laugh. If we were to write anelaborate work, telling truths, and plain truths, confining ourselvesonly to point out errors and to demand reform, it would not be read; wehave therefore selected this light and trifling species of writing, asit is by many denominated, as a channel through which we may conveywholesome advice a palatable shape. If we would point out an error, wedraw a character, and although that character appears to weave naturallyinto the tale of fiction, it becomes as much a beacon, as is a vehicleof amusement. We consider this to be the true art of novel-writing, andthat crime and folly and error can be as severely lashed, as virtue andmorality can be upheld, by a series of amusing causes and effects, thatentice the reader to take a medicine, which, although rendered agreeableto the palate, still produces the same internal benefit as if it hadbeen presented to him in its crude state, in which it would either berefused or nauseated.
In our naval novels, we have often pointed out the errors which haveexisted, and still do exist, in a service which an honour to itscountry; for what institution is there on earth that is perfect, or intowhich, if it once was perfect, abuses will not creep? Unfortunately,others have written to decry the service, and many have raised up theirvoices against our writings, because they felt that, in exposing error,we were exposing them. But to this we have been indifferent; we feltthat we were doing good, and we have continued. To prove that we arecorrect in asserting that we have done good, we will, out of several,state one single case.
In "The King's Own," a captain, when requested to punish a man_instanter_ for a fault committed, replies that he never has and neverwill punish a man until twenty-four hours after the offence, that he maynot be induced by the anger of the moment to award a severer punishmentthan in his cooler moments he might think commensurate--and that hewished that the Admiralty would give out an order to that effect.
Some time after the publication of that work, the order was given by theAdmiralty, forbidding the punishment until a certain time had elapsedafter the offence; and we had the pleasure of knowing from the FirstLord of the Admiralty of the time, that it was in consequence of thesuggestion in the novel.
If our writings had effected nothing else, we might still lay down ourpen with pride and satisfaction; but they have done more, much more, andwhile they have amused the reader, they have improved the service; theyhave held up in their characters a mirror, in which those who have beenin error may see their own deformity, and many hints which have beengiven, have afterwards returned to the thoughts of those who have hadinfluence, have been considered as their own ideas, and have been actedupon. The conduct of Captain Tartar may be considered as a libel on theservice--is it not? The fault of Captain Tartar was not in sending themon board, or even putting them in irons as deserters, although, underthe circumstances, he might have shown more delicacy. The fault was instigmatising a young man as a swindler, and the punishment awarded tothe error is intended to point out the moral, that such an abuse ofpower should be severely visited. The greatest error now in ourservice, is the disregard shown to the feelings of the junior officersin the language of their superiors: that an improvement has taken placeI grant, but that it still exists, to a degree injurious to the service,I know too well. The articles of war, as our hero was informed by hiscaptain, were equally binding on officers and crew; but what a deadletter do they become if officers are permitted to break them withimpunity! The captain of a ship will turn the hands up to punishment,read the article of war for the transgressing of which the punishment isinflicted, and to show at that time their high respect for the articlesof war, the captain and every officer take off their hats. The momentthe hands are piped down, the second article of war, which forbids allswearing, etcetera, in derogation of God's honour, is immediatelydisregarded. We are not strait-laced,--we care little about an oath asa mere _expletive_; we refer now to swearing at _others_, to insultingtheir feelings grossly by coarse and intemperate language. We wouldnever interfere with a man for damning his _own_ eyes, but we deny theright of his damning those of _another_.
The rank of a master in the service is above that of a midshipman, butstill the midshipman is a gentleman by birth, and the master, generallyspeaking, is not. Even at this moment, in the service, if the masterwere to damn the eyes of a midshipman, and tell him that he was a liar,would there be any redress, or if so, would it be commensurate to theinsult? If a midshipman were to request a court-martial, would it begranted?--certainly not: and yet this is a point of more importance thanmay be conceived. Our service has been wonderfully improved since thepeace, and those who are now permitted to enter it must be gentlemen.We know that even now there are many who cry out against this asdangerous and injurious to the service; as if education spoiled anofficer, and the scion of an illustrious house would not be more carefulto uphold an escutcheon without blemish for centuries, than one who haslittle more than brute courage; but those who argue thus are the verypeople who are injurious to the service, for they can have no otherreason, except that they wish that the juniors may be tyrannised overwith impunity.
But it remembered that these are not the observations of a juniorofficer smarting under insult--they are the result of deep and calmreflection. We have arrived to that grade, that, although we have thepower to inflict, we are too high to receive insult, but we have notforgotten how our young blood has boiled when wanton, reckless, andcruel torture has been heaped upon our feelings, merely because, as ajunior officer, we were not in a position to retaliate, or even toreply. And another evil is, that this _great error_ is _disseminated_.In observing on it, in one of our works, called _Peter Simple_, we haveput the following true observation in the mouth of O'Brien. Peterobserves, in his simple, right-minded way:
"I should think, O'Brien, that the very circumstance of having had yourfeelings so often wounded by such language when you were a juniorofficer would make you doubly careful not to use it towards others
, whenyou had advanced in the service?"
"Peter, that's just the first feeling, which wears away after a time,till at last, your own sense of indignation becomes blunted, and becomesindifferent to it; you forget, also, that you wound the feelings ofothers, and carry the habit with, you, to the great injury and disgraceof the service."
Let it not be supposed that in making these remarks we want to causelitigation, or insubordination. On the contrary, we assert that thiserror is the cause, and eventually will be much more the cause, ofinsubordination; for as the junior officers who enter the service areimproved, so will they resist it. The complaint here is more againstthe officers, than the captains, whose power has been perhaps alreadytoo much curtailed by late regulations: that power must remain, foralthough there may be some few who are so perverted as to make thosewhom they command uncomfortable, in justice to the service we are proudto assert that the majority acknowledge, by their conduct, that thegreatest charm attached to power is to be able to make so many peoplehappy.
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