Peter Simple; and, The Three Cutters, Vol. 1-2

by Frederick Marryat

  Chapter XXXVII

  Captain Kearney's illness--He makes his will, and devises sundrychateaux en Espagne for the benefit of those concerned--The legacy dutyin this instance not ruinous--He signs, seals, and dies.

  The captain, as was his custom, went on shore, and took up his quartersat a friend's house; that is to say, the house of an acquaintance, orany polite gentleman who would ask him to take a dinner and a bed. Thiswas quite sufficient for Captain Kearney, who would fill hisportmanteau, and take up his quarters, without thinking of leaving themuntil the ship sailed, or some more advantageous invitation was given.This conduct in England would have very much trespassed on our ideas ofhospitality; but in our foreign settlements and colonies, where thesociety is confined and novelty is desirable, a person who could amuselike Captain Kearney was generally welcome, let him stay as long as hepleased. All sailors agree in asserting that Halifax is one of the mostdelightful ports in which a ship can anchor. Everybody is hospitable,cheerful, and willing to amuse and be amused. It is, therefore, a verybad place to send a ship to if you wish her to refit in a hurry; unless,indeed, the admiral is there to watch over your daily progress, and asharp commissioner to expedite your motions in the dockyard. The admiralwas there when we arrived, and we should not have lain there long, hadnot the health of Captain Kearney, by the time that we were ready forsea, been so seriously affected, that the doctor was of opinion that hecould not sail. Another frigate was sent to our intendedcruising-ground, and we lay idle in port. But we consoled ourselves: ifwe did not make prize-money, at all events, we were very happy, and themajor part of the officers very much in love.

  We had remained in Halifax harbour about three weeks, when a very greatchange for the worse took place in Captain Kearney's disease. Disease,indeed, it could hardly be called. He had been long suffering from theinsidious attacks of a hot climate, and though repeatedly advised toinvalid, he never would consent. His constitution appeared now to bebreaking up. In a few days he was so ill, that, at the request of thenaval surgeons, he consented to be removed to the hospital, where hecould command more comforts than in any private house. He had not beenat the hospital more than two days, when he sent for me, and stated hiswish that I should remain with him. "You know, Peter, that you are acousin of mine, and one likes to have one's relations near one when weare sick, so bring your traps on shore. The doctor has promised me anice little room for yourself, and you shall come and sit with me allday." I certainly had no objection to remain with him, because Iconsidered it my duty so to do, and I must say that there was nooccasion for me to make any effort to entertain him, as he alwaysentertained me; but I could not help seriously reflecting, and feelingmuch shocked, at a man, lying in so dangerous a state--for the doctorshad pronounced his recovery to be impossible--still continuing a systemof falsehood during the whole day, without intermission. But it reallyappeared in him to be innate; and, as Swinburne said, "if he told truth,it was entirely by mistake."

  "Peter," said he, one day, "there's a great draught. Shut the door, andput on some more coals."

  "The fire does not draw well, sir," replied I, "without the door isopen."

  "It's astonishing how little people understand the nature of thesethings. When I built my house, called Walcot Abbey, there was not achimney would draw; I sent for the architect and abused him, but hecould not manage it: I was obliged to do it myself."

  "Did you manage it, sir?"

  "Manage it--I think I did. The first time I lighted the fire, I openedthe door, and the draught was so great, that my little boy, William, whowas standing in the current of air, would have gone right up thechimney, if I had not caught him by the petticoats; as it was, his frockwas on fire."

  "Why sir, it must have been as bad as a hurricane!"

  "No, no, not quite so bad--but it showed what a little knowledge ofphilosophical arrangement could effect. We have no hurricanes inEngland, Peter; but I have seen a very pretty whirlwind when I was atWalcot Abbey."

  "Indeed, sir."

  "Yes; it cut four square haystacks quite round, and I lost twenty tonsof hay; it twisted the iron lamp-post at the entrance just as a porpoisetwists a harpoon, and took up a sow and her litter of pigs, that wereabout a hundred yards from the back of the house, and landed them safeover the house to the front, with the exception of the old sow puttingher shoulder out."

  "Indeed, sir."

  "Yes, but what was strange, there were a great many rats in the hayrick,and up they went with the hay. Now, Peter, by the laws of gravitation,they naturally come down before the hay, and I was walking with mygreyhound, or rather terrier, and after one coming down close to her,which she killed, it was quite ridiculous to witness her looking up inthe air, and watching for the others."

  "A greyhound did you say, sir, or a terrier?"

  "Both, Peter; the fact is, she had been a greyhound, but breaking herforeleg against a stump, when coursing, I had the other three amputatedas well, and then she made a capital terrier. She was a great favouriteof mine."

  "Well," observed I, "I have read something like that in BaronMunchausen."

  "Mr Simple," said the captain, turning on his elbow and looking meseverely in the face, "what do you mean to imply?"

  "Oh, nothing, sir, but I have read a story of that kind."

  "Most probably; the great art of invention is to found it upon facts.There are some people who out of a mole-hill will make a mountain; andfacts and fiction become so blended nowadays, that even truth becomes amatter of doubt."

  "Very true, sir," replied I; and as he did not speak for some minutes, Iventured to bring my Bible to his bedside, as if I was reading it tomyself.

  "What are you reading, Peter?" said he.

  "Only a chapter in the Bible, sir," said I. "Would you like that Ishould read aloud?"

  "Yes, I'm very fond of the Bible--it's the book of _truth_. Peter, readme about Jacob, and his weathering Esau with a mess of pottage, andobtaining his father's blessing." I could not help thinking it singularthat he should select a portion in which, for divine reasons, a lie wascrowned with success and reward.

  When I had finished it, he asked me to read something more; I turnedover to the Acts of the Apostles, and commenced the chapter in whichAnanias and Sapphira were struck dead. When I had finished, he observedvery seriously, "That is a very good lesson for young people, Peter, andpoints out that you never should swerve from the truth. Recollect, asyour motto, Peter, to 'tell truth and shame the devil.'"

  After this observation I laid down the book, as it appeared to me thathe was quite unaware of his propensity; and without a sense of yourfault, how can repentance and amendment be expected? He became morefeeble and exhausted every day, and, at last, was so weak that he couldscarcely raise himself in his bed. One afternoon he said, "Peter, Ishall make my will, not that I am going to kick the bucket just yet; butstill it is every man's duty to set his house in order, and it willamuse me; so fetch pen and paper, and come and sit down by me."

  I did as he requested.

  "Write, Peter, that I, Anthony George William Charles Huskisson Kearney(my father's name was Anthony, Peter; I was christened George, after thepresent Regent, William and Charles after Mr Pitt and Mr Fox, who weremy sponsors; Huskisson is the name of my great uncle, whose propertydevolves to me; he's eighty-three now, so he can't last long)--have youwritten down that?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Being in sound mind, do hereby make my last will and testament,revoking all former wills."

  "Yes, sir."

  "I bequeath to my dearly beloved wife, Augusta Charlotte Kearney (shewas named after the Queen and Princess Augusta, who held her at thebaptismal font), all my household furniture, books, pictures, plate, andhouses, for her own free use and will, and to dispose of at her pleasureupon her demise. Is that down?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Also, the interest of all my money in the three percents, reduced, andin the long annuities, and the balance in my agent's hands, for hernatural life. At her death to be divi
ded into equal portions between mytwo children, William Mohamed Potemkin Kearney, and Caroline AnastasiaKearney. Is that down?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Well, then, Peter, now for my real property. My estate in Kent (let mesee, what is the name of it?)--Walcot Abbey, my three farms in the Valeof Aylesbury, and the marsh lands in Norfolk, I bequeath to my twochildren aforenamed, the proceeds of the same to be laid up, deductingall necessary expenses for their education, for their sole use andbenefit. Is that down?"

  "Not yet, sir--'use and benefit.' Now it is, sir."

  "Until they come to the age of twenty-one years; or in case of mydaughter, until she marries with the consent of my executors, then to beequally and fairly valued and divided between them. You observe, Peter,I never make any difference between girls and boys--a good father willleave one child as much as another. Now, I'll take my breath a little."

  I was really astonished. It was well known that Captain Kearney hadnothing but his pay, and that it was the hopes of prize-money to supporthis family, which had induced him to stay out so long in the WestIndies. It was laughable; yet I could not laugh: there was a melancholyfeeling at such a specimen of insanity, which prevented me.

  "Now, Peter, we'll go on," said Captain Kearney, after a pause of a fewminutes. "I have a few legacies to bequeath. First, to all my servantsL50 each, and two suits of mourning; to my nephew, Thomas Kearney, ofKearney Hall, Yorkshire, I bequeath the sword presented me by the GrandSultan. I promised it to him, and although we have quarrelled, and notspoken for years, I always keep my word. The plate presented me by themerchants and underwriters of Lloyd's, I leave to my worthy friend, theDuke of Newcastle. Is that down?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Well; my snuff-box, presented me by Prince Potemkin, I bequeath toAdmiral Sir Isaac Coffin; and, also, I release him from the mortgagewhich I hold over his property of the Madeline Islands, in NorthAmerica. By-the-bye, say, and further, I bequeath to him the bag ofsnuff presented to me by the Dey of Algiers; he may as well have thesnuff as he has the snuff-box. Is that down?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Well then, now, Peter, I must leave you something."

  "Oh, never mind me," replied I.

  "No, no, Peter, I must not forget my cousin. Let me see; you shall havemy fighting sword. A real good one, I can tell you. I once fought a duelwith it at Palermo, and ran a Sicilian prince so clean through the body,and it held so tight, that we were obliged to send for a pair ofpost-horses to pull it out again. Put that down as a legacy for mycousin, Peter Simple. I believe that is all. Now for my executors; and Irequest my particular friends, the Earl of Londonderry, the Marquis ofChandos, and Mr John Lubbock, banker, to be my executors, and leave eachof them the sum of one thousand pounds for their trouble, and in tokenof regard. That will do, Peter. Now, as I have left so much realproperty, it is necessary that there should be three witnesses; so callin two more, and let me sign in your presence."

  This order was obeyed, and this strange will duly attested, for I hardlyneed say, that even the presents he had pretended to receive werepurchased by himself at different times; but such was the force of hisruling passion even to the last. Mr Phillott and O'Brien used to comeand see him, as did occasionally some of the other officers, and he wasalways cheerful and merry, and seemed to be quite indifferent about hissituation, although fully aware of it. His stories, if anything, becamemore marvellous, as no one ventured to express a doubt as to theircredibility.

  I had remained in the hospital about a week, when Captain Kearney wasevidently dying: the doctor came, felt his pulse, and gave it as hisopinion that he could not outlive the day. This was on a Friday, andthere certainly was every symptom of dissolution. He was so exhaustedthat he could scarcely articulate; his feet were cold, and his eyesappeared glazed, and turned upwards. The doctor remained an hour, felthis pulse again, shook his head, and said to me, in a low voice, "He isquite gone." As soon as the doctor quitted the room, Captain Kearneyopened his eyes, and beckoned me to him. "He's a confounded fool,Peter," said he: "he thinks I am slipping my wind now--but I knowbetter; going I am, 'tis true--but I shan't die till next Thursday."Strange to say, from that moment he rallied; and although it wasreported that he was dead, and the admiral had signed the acting orderfor his successor, the next morning, to the astonishment of everybody,Captain Kearney was still alive. He continued in this state, betweenlife and death, until the Thursday next, the day on which he assertedthat he would die--and, on that morning, he was evidently sinking fast.Towards noon, his breathing became much oppressed and irregular, and hewas evidently dying; the rattle in his throat commenced; and I watchedat his bedside, waiting for his last gasp, when he again opened hiseyes, and beckoning me, with an effort, to put my head close to him tohear what he had to say, he contrived, in a sort of gurgling whisper,and with much difficulty, to utter--"Peter, I'm going now--not that therattle--in my throat--is a sign of death: for I once knew a man--to_live_ with--_the rattle in his throat_--for _six weeks_." He fell backand expired, having, perhaps, at his last gasp, told the greatest lie ofhis whole life.

  Thus died this most extraordinary character, who, in most other points,commanded respect: he was a kind man and a good officer; but from theidiosyncrasy of his disposition, whether from habit or from nature,could not speak the truth. I say from _nature_, because I have witnessedthe vice of stealing equally strong, and never to be eradicated. It wasin a young messmate of good family, and who was supplied with money toalmost any extent: he was one of the most generous, open-hearted ladsthat I ever knew; he would offer his purse, or the contents of hischest, to any of his messmates, and, at the same time, would stealeverything that he could lay his hands upon. I have known him watch forhours, to steal what could be of no use to him, as, for instance, an_odd_ shoe, and that much too small for his foot. What he stole he wouldgive away the very next day; but to check it was impossible. It was sowell known, that if anything was missed, we used first to apply to hischest to see if it was there, and usually found the article in question.He appeared to be wholly insensible to shame upon this subject, thoughin every other he showed no want of feeling or of honour; and, strangeto say, he never covered his theft with a lie. After vain attempts tocure him of this propensity, he was dismissed the service asincorrigible.

  Captain Kearney was buried in the churchyard with the usual militaryhonours. In his desk we found directions, in his own hand, relative tohis funeral, and the engraving on his tombstone. In these, he stated hisaged to be thirty-one years. If this was correct, Captain Kearney, fromthe time that he had been in the service of his country, must haveentered the navy just _four months before_ he was born. It wasunfortunate that he commenced the inscription with "Here lies CaptainKearney," &c. &c. His tombstone had not been set up twenty-four hoursbefore somebody, who knew his character, put a dash under one word, asemphatic as it was true of the living man, "Here _lies_ Captain."