Chapter XLI
Pompous obsequies--The reading of the will, not exactly after Wilkie--Iam left a legacy--What becomes of it--My father, very warm, writes asermon to cool himself--I join O'Brien's brig, and fall in withSwinburne.
On that day week I accompanied my father to Eagle Park, to assist at theburial of Lord Privilege. We were ushered into the room where the bodyhad laid in state for three days. The black hangings, the lofty plumes,the rich ornaments on the coffin, and the number of wax candles withwhich the room was lighted, produced a solemn and grand effect. I couldnot help, as I leaned against the balustrade before the coffin andthought of its contents, calling to mind when my poor grandfather'sfeelings seemed, as it were, inclined to thaw in my favour, when hecalled me "his child," and, in all probability, had not my uncle had ason, would have died in my arms, fond and attached to me for my ownsake, independently of worldly considerations. I felt that had I knownhim longer, I could have loved him, and that he would have loved me; andI thought to myself, how little all these empty honours, after hisdecease, could compensate for the loss of those reciprocal feelings,which would have so added to his happiness during his existence. But hehad lived for pomp and vanity; and pomp and vanity attended him to hisgrave. I thought of my sister Ellen, and of O'Brien, and walked awaywith the conviction that Peter Simple might have been an object of envyto the late Right Honourable Lord Viscount Privilege, Baron Corston,Lord Lieutenant of the county, and one of His Majesty's Most HonourablePrivy Councillors.
When the funeral, which was very tedious and very splendid, was over, weall returned in the carriages to Eagle Park, when my uncle, who had ofcourse assumed the title, and who had attended as chief mourner, was inwaiting to receive us. We were shown into the library, and in the chairso lately and constantly occupied by my grandfather, sat the new lord.Near to him were the lawyers, with parchments lying before them. As weseverally entered, he waved his hand to unoccupied chairs, intimating tous to sit down; but no words were exchanged, except an occasionalwhisper between him and the lawyers. When all the branches of the familywere present, down to the fourth and fifth cousins, the lawyer on theright of my uncle put on his spectacles, and unrolling the parchmentcommenced reading the will. I paid attention to it at first; but thelegal technicalities puzzled me, and I was soon thinking of othermatters, until after half an hour's reading, I was startled at the soundof my own name. It was a bequest by codicil to me, of the sum of tenthousand pounds. My father who sat by me, gave me a slight push, toattract my attention; and I perceived that his face was not quite somournful as before. I was rejoicing at this unexpected intelligence. Icalled to mind what my father had said to me when we were returning fromEagle Park, "that my grandfather's attentions to me were as good as tenthousand pounds in his will," and was reflecting how strange it was thathe had hit upon the exact sum. I also thought of what my father had saidof his own affairs, and his not having saved anything for his children,and congratulated myself that I should now be able to support my dearsister Ellen, in case of any accident happening to my father, when I wasroused by another mention of my name. It was a codicil dated about aweek back, in which my grandfather, not pleased at my conduct, revokedthe former codicil, and left me nothing. I knew where the blow camefrom, and I looked my uncle in the face; a gleam of malignant pleasurewas in his eyes, which had been fixed on me, waiting to receive myglance. I returned it with a smile expressive of scorn and contempt, andthen looked at my father, who appeared to be in a state of misery. Hishead had fallen upon his breast, and his hands were clasped. Although Iwas shocked at the blow, for I knew how much the money was required, Ifelt too proud to show it; indeed, I felt that I would not for worldshave exchanged situations with my uncle, much less feelings; for whenthose who remain meet to ascertain the disposition made, by one who issummoned away to the tribunal of his Maker, of those worldly andperishable things which he must leave behind him, feelings of rancourand ill-will might, for the time, be permitted to subside, and thememory of a "departed brother" be productive of charity and good-will.After a little reflection, I felt that I could forgive my uncle.
Not so my father; the codicil which deprived me of my inheritance, wasthe last of the will, and the lawyer rolled up the parchment and tookoff his spectacles. Everybody rose; my father seized his hat, andtelling me in a harsh voice to follow him, tore off the crape weepers,and then threw them on the floor as he walked away. I also took offmine, and laid them on the table, and followed him. My father called hiscarriage, waited in the hall till it was driven up, and jumped into it.I followed him; he drew up the blind, and desired them to drive home.
"Not a sixpence! By the God of heaven, not a sixpence! My name not evenmentioned, except for a paltry mourning ring! And yours--pray sir, whathave you been about, after having such a sum left you, to forfeit yourgrandfather's good opinion? Heh! sir--tell me directly," continued he,turning round to me in a rage.
"Nothing, my dear father, that I'm aware of. My uncle is evidently myenemy."
"And why should he be particularly your enemy? Peter, there must be somereason for his having induced your grandfather to alter his bequest inyour favour. I insist upon it, sir, that you tell me immediately."
"My dear father, when you are more calm, I will talk this matter overwith you. I hope I shall not be considered wanting in respect, when Isay, that as a clergyman of the church of England--"
"D--n the church of England, and those that put me into it!" replied myfather, maddened with rage.
I was shocked, and held my tongue. My father appeared also to beconfused at his hasty expressions. He sank back in his carriage, andpreserved a gloomy silence until we arrived at our own door. As soon aswe entered, my father hastened to his own room, and I went up to mysister Ellen, who was in her bed room. I revealed to her all that hadpassed, and advised with her on the propriety of my communicating to myfather the reasons which had occasioned my uncle's extreme aversiontowards me. After much argument, she agreed with me, that the disclosurehad now become necessary.
After the dinner-cloth had been removed, I then communicated to myfather the circumstances which had come to our knowledge relative to myuncle's establishment in Ireland. He heard me very attentively, took outtablets, and made notes.
"Well, Peter," said he, after a few minutes' silence, when I hadfinished, "I see clearly through this whole business. I have no doubtbut that a child has been substituted to defraud you and me of our justinheritance of the title and estates; but I will now set to work and tryif I cannot find out the secret; and, with the help of Captain O'Brienand Father M'Grath, I think it is not at all impossible."
"O'Brien will do all that he can, sir," replied I; "and I expect soon tohear from him. He must have now been a week in Ireland."
"I shall go there myself," replied my father; "and there are no meansthat I will not resort to, to discover this infamous plot. No,"exclaimed he, striking his fist on the table, so as to shiver two of thewine-glasses into fragments--"no means but I will resort to."
"That is," replied I, "my dear father, no means which may belegitimately employed by one of your profession."
"I tell you, no means that can be used by _man_ to recover his defraudedrights! Tell me not of legitimate means, when I am to lose a title andproperty by a spurious and illegitimate substitution! By the God ofheaven, I will meet them with fraud for fraud, with false swearing forfalse swearing, and with blood for blood, if it should be necessary! Mybrother has dissolved all ties, and I will have my right, even if Idemand it with a pistol at his ear."
"For Heaven's sake, my dear father, do not be so violent--recollect yourprofession."
"I do," replied he, bitterly; "and how I was forced into it against mywill. I recollect my father's words, the solemn coolness with which hetold me, 'I had my choice of the church, or--to starve.'--But I have mysermon to prepare for to-morrow, and I can sit here no longer. TellEllen to send me in some tea."
I did not think my father was in a very fit state of mind to write as
ermon, but I held my tongue. My sister joined me, and we saw no more ofhim till breakfast the next day. Before we met, I received a letter fromO'Brien.
"MY DEAR PETER,--I ran down to Plymouth, hoisted my pennant, drew my jollies from the dockyard, and set my first lieutenant to work getting in the ballast and water-tanks. I then set off for Ireland, and was very well received as Captain O'Brien by my family, who were all flourishing.
"Now that my two sisters are so well married off, my father and mother are very comfortable, but rather lonely; for I believe I told you long before, that it had pleased Heaven to take all the rest of my brothers and sisters, except the two now married, and one who bore up for a nunnery, dedicating her service to God, after she was scarred with the small-pox, and no man would look at her. Ever since the family have been grown up, my father and mother have been lamenting and sorrowing that none of them would go off; and now that they're all gone off one way or another, they cry all day because they are left all alone with no one to keep company with them, except Father M'Grath and the pigs. We never are to be contented in this world, that's sartain; and now that they are comfortable in every respect, they find that they are very uncomfortable, and having obtained all their wishes, they wish everything back again; but as old Maddocks used to say, 'A good growl is better than a bad dinner' with some people; and the greatest pleasure that they now have is to grumble; and if that makes them happy, they must be happy all day long--for the devil a bit do they leave off from morning till night.
"The first thing that I did was to send for Father M'Grath, who had been more away from home than usual--I presume, not finding things quite so comfortable as they used to be. He told me that he had met with Father O'Toole, and had a bit of a dialogue with him, which had ended in a bit of a row, and that he had cudgelled Father O'Toole well, and tore his gown off his back, and then tore it into shivers,-- that Father O'Toole had referred the case to the bishop, and that was how the matter stood just then. 'But,' says he, 'the spalpeen has left this part of the country, and, what is more, has taken Ella and her mother with him; and what is still worse, no one could find out where they were gone; but it was believed that they had all been sent over the water.' So you see, Peter, that this is a bad job in one point, which is, that we have no chance of getting the truth out of the old woman; for now that we have war with France, who is to follow them? On the other hand, it is good news; for it prevents me from decoying that poor young girl, and making her believe what will never come to pass; and I am not a little glad on that score, for Father M'Grath was told by those who were about her, that she did nothing but weep and moan for two days before she went away, scolded as she was by her mother, and threatened by that blackguard O'Toole. It appears to me, that all our hopes now are in finding out the soldier, and his wife the wet-nurse, who were sent to India--no doubt with the hope that the climate and the fevers may carry them off. That uncle of yours is a great blackguard, every bit of him. I shall leave here in three days, and you must join me at Plymouth. Make my compliments to your father, and my regards to your sister, whom may all the saints preserve! God bless her, for ever and ever. Amen.
"Yours ever,
"TERENCE O'BRIEN."
I put this letter into my father's hands when he came out of his room."This is a deep-laid plot," said he, "and I think we must immediately doas O'Brien states--look after the nurse who was sent to India. Do youknow the regiment to which her husband belongs?"
"Yes, sir," replied I; "it is the 33rd, and she sailed for India aboutthree months back."
"The name, you say, I think, is O'Sullivan," said he, pulling out histablets. "Well, I will write immediately to Captain Fielding, and beghim to make the minutest inquiries. I will also write to your sisterLucy, for women are much keener than men in affairs of this sort. If theregiment is ordered to Ceylon, all the better: if not, he must obtainfurlough to prosecute his inquiries. When that is done, I will go myselfto Ireland, and try if we cannot trace the other parties."
My father then left the room, and I retired with Ellen to makepreparations for joining my ship at Plymouth. A letter announcing myappointment had come down, and I had written to request my commission tobe forwarded to the clerk of the cheque at Plymouth, that I might save auseless journey to London. On the following day I parted with my fatherand my dear sister, and, without any adventure, arrived at PlymouthDock, where I met with O'Brien. The same day I reported myself to theadmiral, and joined my brig, which was lying alongside the hulk with hertopmasts pointed through. Returning from the brig, as I was walking upFore-street, I observed a fine stout sailor, whose back was turned tome, reading the handbill which had been posted up everywhere announcingthat the _Rattlesnake_, Captain O'Brien (about to proceed to the WestIndia station, where _doubloons_ were so plentiful that dollars wereonly used for ballast), was in want of a _few_ stout hands. It mighthave been said, of a great many: for we had not entered six men, andwere doing all the work with the marines and riggers of the dockyard;but it is not the custom to show your poverty in this world either withregard to men or money. I stopped, and overheard him say, "Ay, as forthe doubloons, that cock won't fight. I've served long enough in theWest Indies not to be humbugged; but I wonder whether Captain O'Brienwas the second lieutenant of the _Sanglier_. If so, I shouldn't mindtrying a cruise with him." I thought that I recollected the voice, andtouching him on the shoulder, he turned round, and it proved to beSwinburne. "What, Swinburne!" said I, shaking him by the hand, for I wasdelighted to see him, "is it you?"
"Why, Mr Simple! Well, then, I expect that I'm right, and that MrO'Brien is made, and commands this craft. When you meet the pilot-fish,the shark arn't far off, you know."
"You're very right, Swinburne," said I, "in all except calling CaptainO'Brien a shark. He's no shark."
"No, that he arn't, except in one way; that is, that I expect he'll soonshow his teeth to the Frenchmen. But I beg your pardon, sir;" andSwinburne took off his hat.
"Oh! I understand; you did not perceive before that I had shipped theswab. Yes, I'm lieutenant of the _Rattlesnake_, Swinburne, and hopeyou'll join us."
"There's my hand upon it, Mr Simple," said he, smacking his great fistinto mine so as to make it tingle. "I'm content if I know that thecaptain's a good officer; but when there's two, I think myself lucky.I'll just take a boat, and put my name on the books, and then I'll be onshore again to spend the rest of my money, and try if I can't pick up afew hands as volunteers, for I know where they all be stowed away. I waslooking at the craft this morning, and rather took a fancy to her. Shehas a d--d pretty run; but I hope Captain O'Brien will take off herfiddle-head, and get one carved: I never knew a vessel do much with a_fiddle_-head."
"I rather think that Captain O'Brien has already applied to theCommissioner on the subject," replied I; "at all events, it won't bevery difficult to make the alteration ourselves."
"To be sure not," replied Swinburne; "a coil of four-inch will make thebody of the snake; I can carve out the head; and as for a _rattle_, I beblessed if I don't rob one of those beggars of watchmen this very night.So good-bye, Mr Simple, till we meet again."
Swinburne kept his word; he joined the ship that afternoon, and the nextday came off with six good hands, who had been induced from hisrepresentations to join the brig. "Tell Captain O'Brien," said he to me,"not to be in too great a hurry to man his ship. I know where there areplenty to be had; but I'll try fair means first." This he did, and everyday, almost, he brought off a man, and all he did bring off were goodable seamen. Others volunteered, and we were now more than half-manned,and ready for sea. The admiral then gave us permission to sendpressgangs on shore.
"Mr Simple," said Swinburne, "I've tried all I can to persuade a lot offine chaps to enter, but they won't. Now I'm resolved that my brig shallbe well manned; and if they don't know what's good for them, I do, andI'm sure that they will thank me for it afterwards; so I'm determined totake every mother's son of them."
> The same night we mustered all Swinburne's men and went on shore to acrimp's house which they knew, surrounded it with our marines in bluejackets, and took out of it twenty-three fine able seamen, which nearlyfilled up our complement. The remainder we obtained by a draft from theadmiral's ship; and I do not believe that there was a vessel that leftPlymouth harbour and anchored in the Sound, better manned than the_Rattlesnake_. So much for good character, which is never lost uponseamen O'Brien was universally liked by those who had sailed with him,and Swinburne, who knew him well persuaded many, and forced the others,to enter with him, whether they liked it or not. This they in the eventdid, and, with the exception of those drafted from the flag-ship, we hadno desertions. Indeed, none deserted whom we would have wished toretain, and their vacancies were soon filled up with better men.