CHAPTER III.
"I want a hero:--an uncommon want, When every year and month send forth a new one; 'Till, after cloying the gazelles with cant, The age discovers he is not the true one;--"
BYRON.
In consequence of the unsteadiness of the father's nerves, the duty ofraising Mildred in his arms, and of carrying her to the cottage,devolved on the young man. This he did with a readiness and concernwhich proved how deep an interest he took in her situation, and with apower of arm which showed that his strength was increased rather thanlessened by the condition into which she had fallen. So rapid was hismovement, that no one saw the kiss he impressed on the palid cheek ofthe sweet girl, or the tender pressure with which he grasped thelifeless form. By the time he reached the door, the motion and air hadbegun to revive her, and Wychecombe committed her to the care of heralarmed mother, with a few hurried words of explanation. He did notleave the house, however, for a quarter of an hour, except to call outto Dutton that Mildred was reviving, and that he need be under nouneasiness on her account. Why he remained so long, we leave the readerto imagine, for the girl had been immediately taken to her own littlechamber, and he saw her no more for several hours.
When our young sailor came out upon the head-land again, he found theparty near the flag-staff increased to four. Dick, the groom, hadreturned from his errand, and Tom Wychecombe, the intended heir of thebaronet, was also there, in mourning for his reputed father, the judge.This young man had become a frequent visiter to the station, of late,affecting to imbibe his uncle's taste for sea air, and a view of theocean. There had been several meetings between himself and his namesake,and each interview was becoming less amicable than the preceding, for areason that was sufficiently known to the parties. When they met on thepresent occasion, therefore, the bows they exchanged were haughty anddistant, and the glances cast at each other might have been termedhostile, were it not that a sinister irony was blended with that of TomWychecombe. Still, the feelings that were uppermost did not prevent thelatter from speaking in an apparently friendly manner.
"They tell me, Mr. Wychecombe," observed the judge's heir, (for this TomWychecombe might legally claim to be;) "they tell me, Mr. Wychecombe,that you have been taking a lesson in your trade this morning, byswinging over the cliffs at the end of a rope? Now, that is an exploit,more to the taste of an American than to that of an Englishman, I shouldthink. But, I dare say one is compelled to do many things in thecolonies, that we never dream of at home."
This was said with seeming indifference, though with great art. SirWycherly's principal weakness was an overweening and an ignorantadmiration of his own country, and all it contained. He was alsostrongly addicted to that feeling of contempt for the dependencies ofthe empire, which seems to be inseparable from the political connectionbetween the people of the metropolitan country and their colonies. Theremust be entire equality, for perfect respect, in any situation in life;and, as a rule, men always appropriate to their own shares, any admittedsuperiority that may happen to exist on the part of the communities towhich they belong. It is on this principle, that the tenant of acock-loft in Paris or London, is so apt to feel a high claim tosuperiority over the occupant of a comfortable abode in a village. Asbetween England and her North American colonies in particular, thisfeeling was stronger than is the case usually, on account of the earlydemocratical tendencies of the latter; not, that these tendencies hadalready become the subject of political jealousies, but that they leftsocial impressions, which were singularly adapted to bringing thecolonists into contempt among a people predominant for their ownfactitious habits, and who are so strongly inclined to view everything,even to principles, through the medium of arbitrary, conventionalcustoms. It must be confessed that the Americans, in the middle of theeighteenth century, were an exceedingly provincial, and in manyparticulars a narrow-minded people, as well in their opinions as intheir habits; nor is the reproach altogether removed at the present day;but the country from which they are derived had not then made the vaststrides in civilization, for which it has latterly become sodistinguished. The indifference, too, with which all Europe regarded thewhole American continent, and to which England, herself, though shepossessed so large a stake on this side of the Atlantic, formed nomaterial exception, constantly led that quarter of the world intoprofound mistakes in all its reasoning that was connected with thisquarter of the world, and aided in producing the state of feeling towhich we have alluded. Sir Wycherly felt and reasoned on the subject ofAmerica much as the great bulk of his countrymen felt and reasoned in1745; the exceptions existing only among the enlightened, and thosewhose particular duties rendered more correct knowledge necessary, andnot always among them. It is said that the English minister conceivedthe idea of taxing America, from the circumstance of seeing a wealthyVirginian lose a large sum at play, a sort of _argumentum ad hominem_that brought with it a very dangerous conclusion to apply to the sort ofpeople with whom he had to deal. Let this be as it might, there is nomore question, that at the period of our tale, the profoundest ignoranceconcerning America existed generally in the mother country, than thereis that the profoundest respect existed in America for nearly everything English. Truth compels us to add, that in despite of all that haspassed, the cis-atlantic portion of the weakness has longest endured theassaults of time and of an increased intercourse.
Young Wycherly, as is ever the case, was keenly alive to anyinsinuations that might be supposed to reflect on the portion of theempire of which he was a native. He considered himself an Englishman, itis true; was thoroughly loyal; and was every way disposed to sustain thehonour and interests of the seat of authority; but when questions wereraised between Europe and America, he was an American; as, in Americaitself, he regarded himself as purely a Virginian, in contradistinctionto all the other colonies. He understood the intended sarcasm of TomWychecombe, but smothered his resentment, out of respect to the baronet,and perhaps a little influenced by the feelings in which he had been solately indulging.
"Those gentlemen who are disposed to fancy such things of the colonies,would do well to visit that part of the world," he answered, calmly,"before they express their opinions too loudly, lest they should saysomething that future observation might make them wish to recall."
"True, my young friend--quite true," put in the baronet, with thekindest possible intentions. "True as gospel. We never know any thing ofmatters about which we know nothing; that we old men must admit, MasterDutton; and I should think Tom must see its force. It would beunreasonable to expect to find every thing as comfortable in America aswe have it here, in England; nor do I suppose the Americans, in general,would be as likely to get over a cliff as an Englishman. However, thereare exceptions to all general rules, as my poor brother James used tosay, when he saw occasion to find fault with the sermon of a prelate. Ibelieve you did not know my poor brother, Dutton; he must have beenkilled about the time you were born--St. James, I used to call him,although my brother Thomas, the judge that was Tom's father, there--saidhe was St. James the Less."
"I believe the Rev. Mr. Wychecombe was dead before I was of an age toremember his virtues, Sir Wycherly," said Dutton, respectfully; "thoughI have often heard my own father speak of all your honoured family."
"Yes, your father, Dutton, was the attorney of the next town, and we allknew him well. You have done quite right to come back among us to spendthe close of your own days. A man is never as well off as when he isthriving in his native soil; more especially when that soil is oldEngland, and Devonshire. You are not one of us, young gentleman, thoughyour name happens to be Wychecombe; but, then we are none of usaccountable for our own births, or birth-places."
This truism, which is in the mouths of thousands while it is in thehearts of scarcely any, was well meant by Sir Wycherly, however plainlyexpressed. It merely drew from the youth the simple answer that--"he wasborn in the colonies, and had colonists for his parents;" a fact thatthe others had heard already, some ten or a dozen times.
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"It is a little singular, Mr. Wychecombe, that you should bear both ofmy names, and yet be no relative," continued the baronet. "Now, Wycherlycame into our family from old Sir Hildebrand Wycherly, who was slain atBosworth Field, and whose only daughter, my ancestor, and Tom'sancestor, there, married. Since that day, Wycherly has been a favouritename among us. I do not think that the Wychecombes of Herts, everthought of calling a son Wycherly, although, as my poor brother thejudge used to say, _they_ were related, but of the half-blood, only. Isuppose your father taught you what is meant by being of the half-blood,Thomas?"
Tom Wychecombe's face became the colour of scarlet, and he cast anuneasy glance at all present; expecting in particular, to meet with alook of exultation in the eyes of the lieutenant. He was greatlyrelieved, however, at finding that neither of the three meant orunderstood more than was simply expressed. As for his uncle, he had notthe smallest intention of making any allusion to the peculiarity of hisnephew's birth; and the other two, in common with the world, supposedthe reputed heir to be legitimate. Gathering courage from the looks ofthose around him, Tom answered with a steadiness that prevented hisagitation from being detected:
"Certainly, my dear sir; my excellent parent forgot nothing that hethought might be useful to me, in maintaining my rights, and the honourof the family, hereafter. I very well understand that the Wychecombes ofHertfordshire have no claims on us; nor, indeed, any Wychecombe who isnot descended from my respectable grandfather, the late Sir Wycherly."
"He must have been an _early_, instead of a _late_ Sir Wycherly, rather,Mr. Thomas," put in Dutton, laughing at his own conceit; "for I canremember no other than the honourable baronet before us, in the lastfifty years."
"Quite true, Dutton--very true," rejoined the person last alluded to."As true as that 'time and tide wait for no man.' We understand themeaning of such things on the coast here. It was half a century, lastOctober, since I succeeded my respected parent; but, it will not beanother half century before some one will succeed me!"
Sir Wycherly was a hale, hearty man for his years, but he had no unmanlydread of his end. Still he felt it could not be very distant, havingalready numbered fourscore and four years. Nevertheless, there werecertain phrases of usage, that Dutton did not see fit to forget on suchan occasion, and he answered accordingly, turning to look at and admirethe still ruddy countenance of the baronet, by way of giving emphasis tohis words.
"You will yet see half of us into our graves, Sir Wycherly," he said,"and still remain an active man. Though I dare say another half centurywill bring most of us up. Even Mr. Thomas, here, and your young namesakecan hardly hope to run out more line than that. Well, as for myself, Ionly desire to live through this war, that I may again see His Majesty'sarms triumphant; though they do tell me that we are in for a good thirtyyears' struggle. Wars _have_ lasted as long as _that_, Sir Wycherly, andI don't see why this may not, as well as another."
"Very true, Dutton; it is not only possible, but probable; and I trustboth you and I may live to see our flower-hunter here, a post-captain,at least--though it would be wishing almost too much to expect to seehim an admiral. There has been _one_ admiral of the name, and I confessI should like to see another!"
"Has not Mr. Thomas a brother in the service?" demanded the master; "Ihad thought that my lord, the judge, had given us one of his younggentlemen."
"He thought of it; but the army got both of the boys, as it turned out.Gregory was to be the midshipman; my poor brother intending him for asailor from the first, and so giving him the name that was once borne bythe unfortunate relative we lost by shipwreck. I wished him to call oneof the lads James, after St. James; but, somehow, I never could persuadeThomas to see all the excellence of that pious young man."
Dutton was a little embarrassed, for St. James had left any thing but agodly savour behind him; and he was about to fabricate a tolerably boldassertion to the contrary, rather than incur the risk of offending thelord of the manor, when, luckily, a change in the state of the fogafforded him a favourable opportunity of bringing about an appositechange in the subject. During the whole of the morning the sea had beeninvisible from the head-land, a dense body of vapour resting on it, faras eye could reach; veiling the whole expanse with a single white cloud.The lighter portions of the vapour had at first floated around thehead-land, which could not have been seen at any material distance; butall had been gradually settling down into a single mass, that now rosewithin twenty feet of the summit of the cliffs. The hour was still quiteearly, but the sun was gaining force, and it speedily drank up all thelighter particles of the mist, leaving a clear, bright atmosphere abovethe feathery bank, through which objects might be seen for miles. Therewas what seamen call a "fanning breeze," or just wind enough to causethe light sails of a ship to swell and collapse, under the doubleinfluence of the air and the motion of the hull, imitating in a slightdegree the vibrations of that familiar appliance of the female toilet.Dutton's eye had caught a glance of the loftiest sail of a vessel, abovethe fog, going through this very movement; and it afforded him therelease he desired, by enabling him to draw the attention of hiscompanions to the same object.
"See, Sir Wycherly--see, Mr. Wychecombe," he cried, eagerly, pointing inthe direction of the sail; "yonder is some of the king's canvass cominginto our roadstead, or I am no judge of the set of a man-of-war's royal.It is a large bit of cloth, too, Mr. Lieutenant, for a sail so lofty!"
"It is a two-decker's royal, Master Dutton," returned the young sailor;"and now you see the fore and main, separately, as the ship keeps away."
"Well," put in Sir Wycherly, in a resigned manner; "here have I livedfourscore years on this coast, and, for the life of me, I have neverbeen able to tell a fore-royal from a back-royal; or a mizzen head-stayfrom a head mizzen-stay. They are the most puzzling things imaginable;and now I cannot discover how you know that yonder sail, which I seeplain enough, is a royal, any more than that it is a jib!"
Dutton and the lieutenant smiled, but Sir Wycherly's simplicity had acast of truth and nature about it, that deterred most people fromwishing to ridicule him. Then, the rank, fortune, and local interest ofthe baronet, counted for a good deal on all such occasions.
"Here is another fellow, farther east," cried Dutton, still pointingwith a finger; "and every inch as big as his consort! Ah! it does myeyes good to see our roadstead come into notice, in this manner, afterall I have said and done in its behalf--But, who have we here--a brotherchip, by his appearance; I dare say some idler who has been sent ashorewith despatches."
"There is another fellow further east, and every inch as big as hisconsort," said Wychecombe, as we shall call our lieutenant, in order todistinguish him from Tom of the same name, repeating the very words ofDutton, with an application and readiness that almost amounted to wit,pointing, in his turn, at two strangers who were ascending to thestation by a path that led from the beach. "Certainly both thesegentlemen are in His Majesty's service, and they have probably justlanded from the ships in the offing."
The truth of this conjecture was apparent to Dutton at a glance. As thestrangers joined each other, the one last seen proceeded in advance; andthere was something in his years, the confident manner in which heapproached, and his general appearance, that induced both the sailors tobelieve he might be the commander of one of the ships that had just comein view.
"Good-morrow, gentlemen," commenced this person, as soon as near enoughto salute the party at the foot of the flag-staff; "good-morrow to yeall. I'm glad to meet you, for it's but a Jacob's ladder, this path ofyours, through the ravine in the cliffs. Hey! why Atwood," lookingaround him at the sea of vapour, in surprise, "what the devil has becomeof the fleet?"
"It is lost in the fog, sir; we are above it, here; when more on a levelwith the ships, we could see, or fancy we saw, more of them than we donow."
"Here are the upper sails of two heavy ships, sir," observed Wychecombe,pointing in the direction of the vessels already seen; "ay, and yonderare two more--nothing but the
royals are visible."
"Two more!--I left eleven two-deckers, three frigates, a sloop, and acutter in sight, when I got into the boat. You might have covered 'emall with a pocket-handkerchief, hey! Atwood!"
"They were certainly in close order, sir, but I'll not take it on myselfto say quite as near together as that."
"Ay, you're a dissenter by trade, and never will believe in a miracle.Sharp work, gentlemen, to get up such a hill as this, after fifty."
"It is, indeed, sir," answered Sir Wycherly, kindly. "Will you do us thefavour to take a seat among us, and rest yourself after so violent anexertion? The cliff is hard enough to ascend, even when one keeps thepath; though here is a young gentleman who had a fancy just now to godown it, without a path; and that, too, merely that a pretty girl mighthave a nosegay on her breakfast-table."
The stranger looked intently at Sir Wycherly for a moment, then glancedhis eye at the groom and the pony, after which he took a survey of TomWychecombe, the lieutenant, and the master. He was a man accustomed tolook about him, and he understood, by that rapid glance, the charactersof all he surveyed, with perhaps the exception of that of TomWychecombe; and even of that he formed a tolerably shrewd conjecture.Sir Wycherly he immediately set down as the squire of the adjacentestate; Dutton's situation he hit exactly, conceiving him to be aworn-out master, who was employed to keep the signal-station; while heunderstood Wychecombe, by his undress, and air, to be a sea-lieutenantin the king's service. Tom Wychecombe he thought it quite likely mightbe the son, and heir of the lord of the manor, both being in mourning;though he decided in his own mind that there was not the smallest familylikeness between them. Bowing with the courtesy of a man who knew how toacknowledge a civility, he took the proffered seat at Sir Wycherly'sside without farther ceremony.
"We must carry the young fellow to sea with us, sir," rejoined thestranger, "and that will cure him of looking for flowers in suchticklish places. His Majesty has need of us all, in this war; and Itrust, young gentleman, you have not been long ashore, among the girls."
"Only long enough to make a cure of a pretty smart hurt, received incutting out a lugger from the opposite coast," answered Wychecombe, withsufficient modesty, and yet with sufficient spirit.
"Lugger!--ha! what Atwood? You surely do not mean, young gentleman, laVoltigeuse?"
"That was the name of the craft, sir--we found her in the roads ofGroix."
"And then I've the pleasure of seeing Mr. Wychecombe, the young officerwho led in that gallant attack?"
This was said with a most flattering warmth of manner, the stranger evenrising and removing his hat, as he uttered the words with a heartinessthat showed how much his feelings were in unison with what he said.
"I am Mr. Wychecombe, sir," answered the other, blushing to the temples,and returning the salute; "though I had not the honour of leading; oneof the lieutenants of our ship being in another boat."
"Yes--I know all that--but he was beaten off, while you boarded and didthe work. What have my lords commissioners done in the matter?"
"All that is necessary, so far as I am concerned, sir, I do assure you;having sent me a commission the very next week. I only wish they hadbeen equally generous to Mr. Walton, who received a severe wound also,and behaved as well as man could behave."
"That would not be so wise, Mr. Wychecombe, since it would be rewardinga failure," returned the stranger, coldly. "Success is all in all, inwar. Ah! there the fellows begin to show themselves, Atwood."
This remark drew all eyes, again, towards the sea, where a sight nowpresented itself that was really worthy of a passing notice. The vapourappeared to have become packed into a mass of some eighty or a hundredfeet in height, leaving a perfectly clear atmosphere above it. In theclear air, were visible the upper spars and canvass of the entire fleetmentioned by the stranger; sixteen sail in all. There were the eleventwo-deckers, and the three frigates, rising in pyramids of canvass,still fanning in towards the anchorage, which in that roadstead waswithin pistol-shot of the shore; while the royals and upper part of thetopgallant sails of the sloop seemed to stand on the surface of the fog,like a monument. After a moment's pause, Wychecombe discovered even thehead of the cutter's royal-mast, with the pennant lazily flutteringahead of it, partly concealed in vapour. The fog seemed to settle,instead of rising, though it evidently rolled along the face of thewaters, putting the whole scene in motion. It was not long ere the topsof the ships of the line became visible, and then living beings were forthe first time seen in the moving masses.
"I suppose we offer just such a sight to the top-men of the ships, asthey offer to us," observed the stranger. "They _must_ see thishead-land and flag-staff, Mr. Wychecombe; and there can be no danger oftheir standing in too far!"
"I should think not, sir; certainly the men aloft can see the cliffsabove the fog, as we see the vessels' spars. Ha! Mr. Dutton, there is arear-admiral's flag flying on board the ship farthest to the eastward."
"So I see, sir; and by looking at the third vessel on the western sideof the line, you will find a bit of square bunting at the fore, whichwill tell you there is a vice-admiral beneath it."
"Quite true!" exclaimed Wychecombe, who was ever enthusiastic on mattersrelating to his profession; "a vice-admiral of the red, too; which isthe next step to being a full admiral. This must be the fleet of SirDigby Downes!"
"No, young gentleman," returned the stranger, who perceived by theglance of the other's eye, that a question was indirectly put tohimself; "it is the southern squadron; and the vice-admiral's flag yousee, belongs to Sir Gervaise Oakes. Admiral Bluewater is on board theship that carries a flag at the mizzen."
"Those two officers always go together, Sir Wycherly," added the youngman. "Whenever we hear the name of Sir Gervaise, that of Bluewater iscertain to accompany it. Such a union in service is delightful towitness."
"Well may they go in company, Mr. Wychecombe," returned the stranger,betraying a little emotion. "Oakes and Bluewater were reefers together,under old Breasthook, in the Mermaid; and when the first was made alieutenant into the Squid, the last followed as a mate. Oakes was firstof the Briton, in her action with the Spanish frigates, and Bluewaterthird. For that affair Oakes got a sloop, and his friend went with himas his first. The next year they had the luck to capture a heavier shipthan their own, when, for the first time in their service, the two youngmen were separated; Oakes getting a frigate, and Bluewater getting theSquid. Still they cruised in company, until the senior was sent incommand of a flying squadron, with a broad pennant, when the junior, whoby this time was post, received his old messmate on board his ownfrigate. In that manner they served together, down to the hour when thefirst hoisted his flag. From that time, the two old seamen have neverbeen parted; Bluewater acting as the admiral's captain, until he got thesquare bunting himself. The vice-admiral has never led the van of afleet, that the rear-admiral did not lead the rear-division; and, nowthat Sir Gervaise is a commander-in-chief, you see his friend, DickBluewater, is cruising in his company."
While the stranger was giving this account of the Two Admirals, in ahalf-serious, half-jocular manner, the eyes of his companions were onhim. He was a middle-sized, red-faced man, with an aquiline nose, alight-blue animated eye, and a mouth, which denoted more of the habitsand care of refinement than either his dress or his ordinary carelessmien. A great deal is said about the aristocracy of the ears, and thehands, and the feet; but of all the features, or other appliances of thehuman frame, the mouth and the nose have the greatest influence inproducing an impression of gentility. This was peculiarly the case withthe stranger, whose beak, like that of an ancient galley, gave thepromise of a stately movement, and whose beautiful teeth and winningsmile, often relieved the expression of a countenance that was notunfrequently stern. As he ceased speaking, Dutton rose, in a studiedmanner, raised his hat entirely from his head, bowed his body nearly toa right angle, and said,
"Unless my memory is treacherous, I believe I have the honor to seeRear-Admiral Bluewater,
himself; I was a mate in the Medway, when hecommanded the Chloe; and, unless five-and-twenty years have made morechanges than I think probable, he is now on this hill."
"Your memory is a bad one, Mr. Dutton, and your hill has on it a muchworse man, in all respects, than Admiral Bluewater. They say that manand wife, from living together, and thinking alike, having the sameaffections, loving the same objects, or sometimes hating them, get intime to look alike; hey! Atwood? It may be that I am growing likeBluewater, on the same principle; but this is the first time I everheard the thing suggested. I am Sir Gervaise Oakes, at your service,sir."
The bow of Dutton was now much lower than before, while young Wychecombeuncovered himself, and Sir Wycherly arose and paid his complimentscordially, introducing himself, and offering the admiral and all hisofficers the hospitality of the Hall.
"Ay, this is straight-forward and hearty, and in the good old Englishmanner!" exclaimed the admiral, when he had returned the salutes, andcordially thanked the baronet. "One might land in Scotland, now,anywhere between the Tweed and John a'Groat's house, and not be asked somuch as to eat an oaten cake; hey! Atwood?--always excepting themountain dew."
"You will have your fling at my poor countrymen, Sir Gervaise, and sothere is no more to be said on the subject," returned the secretary, forsuch was the rank of the admiral's companion. "I might feel hurt attimes, did I not know that you get as many Scotsmen about you, in yourown ship, as you can; and that a fleet is all the better in yourjudgment, for having every other captain from the land o' cakes."
"Did you ever hear the like of that, Sir Wycherly? Because I stick to aman I like, he accuses me of having a predilection for his wholecountry. Here's Atwood, now; he was my clerk, when in a sloop; and hehas followed me to the Plantagenet, and because I do not throw himoverboard, he wishes to make it appear half Scotland is in her hold."
"Well, there are the surgeon, the purser, one of the mates, one of themarine officers, and the fourth lieutenant, to keep me company, SirGervaise," answered the secretary, smiling like one accustomed to hissuperior's jokes, and who cared very little about them. "When you sendus all back to Scotland, I'm thinking there will be many a good vacancyto fill."
"The Scotch make themselves very useful, Sir Gervaise," put in SirWycherly, by way of smoothing the matter over; "and now we have aBrunswick prince on the throne, we Englishmen have less jealousy of themthan formerly. I am sure I should be happy to see all the gentlemenmentioned by Mr. Atwood, at Wychecombe Hall."
"There, you're all well berthed while the fleet lies in these roads. SirWycherly, in the name of Scotland, I thank you. But what an extr'ornary(for so admirals pronounced the word a hundred years ago) scene this is,hey! Atwood? Many a time have I seen the hulls of ships when their sparswere hid in the fog; but I do not remember ever to have seen before,sixteen sets of masts and sails moving about on vapour, without a singlehull to uphold them. The tops of all the two-decked ships are as plainlyto be seen, as if the air were without a particle of vapour, while allbelow the cat-harpings is hid in a cloud as thick as the smoke ofbattle. I do not half like Bluewater's standing in so far; perhaps, Mr.Dutton, they cannot see the cliffs, for I assure you we did not, untilquite close under them. We went altogether by the lead, the mastersfeeling their way like so many blind beggars!"
"We always keep that nine-pounder loaded, Sir Gervaise," returned themaster, "in order to warn vessels when they are getting near enough in;and if Mr. Wychecombe, who is younger than I, will run to the house andlight this match, I will prime, and we may give 'em warning where theyare, in less than a minute."
The admiral gave a ready assent to this proposition, and the respectiveparties immediately set about putting it in execution. Wychecombehastened to the house to light the match, glad of an opportunity toinquire after Mildred; while Dutton produced a priming-horn from a sortof arm-chest that stood near the gun, and put the latter in a conditionto be discharged. The young man was absent but a minute, and when allwas ready, he turned towards the admiral, in order to get the signal toproceed.
"Let 'em have it, Mr. Wychecombe," cried Sir Gervaise, smiling; "it willwake Bluewater up; perhaps he may favour us with a broadside, by way ofretort."
The match was applied, and the report of the gun succeeded. Thenfollowed a pause of more than a minute; when the fog lifted around theCaesar, the ship that wore a rear-admiral's flag, a flash like lightningwas seen glancing in the mist, and then came the bellowing of a piece ofheavy ordnance. Almost at the same instant, three little flags appearedat the mast-head of the Caesar, for previously to quitting his own ship,Sir Gervaise had sent a message to his friend, requesting him to takecare of the fleet. This was the signal to anchor. The effect of allthis, as seen from the height, was exceedingly striking. As yet not asingle hull had become visible, the fog remaining packed upon the water,in a way to conceal even the lower yards of the two-deckers. All abovewas bright, distinct, and so near, as almost to render it possible todistinguish persons. There every thing was vivid, while a sort ofsupernatural mystery veiled all beneath. Each ship had an officer aloftto look out for signals, and no sooner had the Caesar opened her threelittle flags, which had long been suspended in black balls, in readinessfor this service, than the answers were seen floating at the mast-headof each of the vessels. Then commenced a spectacle still more curiousthan that which those on the cliff had so long been regarding withinterest. Ropes began to move, and the sails were drawn up in festoons,apparently without the agency of hands. Cut off from a seemingcommunication with the ocean, or the hulls, the spars of the differentships appeared to be instinct with life; each machine playing its ownpart independently of the others, but all having the same object inview. In a very few minutes the canvass was hauled up, and the wholefleet was swinging to the anchors. Presently head after head was thrownout of the fog, the upper yards were alive with men, and the sails werehanded. Next came the squaring of the yards, though this was imperfectlydone, and a good deal by guess-work. The men came down, and there lay anoble fleet at anchor, with nothing visible to those on the cliffs, buttheir top-hamper and upper spars.
Sir Gervaise Oakes had been so much struck and amused with a sight thatto him happened to be entirely novel, that he did not speak during thewhole process of anchoring. Indeed, many a man might pass his life atsea, and never witness such a scene; but those who have, know that it isone of the most beautiful and striking spectacles connected with thewonders of the great deep.
By this time the sun had got so high, as to begin to stir the fog, andstreams of vapour were shooting up from the beach, like smoke risingfrom coal-pits. The wind increased, too, and rolled the vapour beforeit, and in less than ten minutes, the veil was removed; ship after shipcoming out in plain view, until the entire fleet was seen riding in theroadstead, in its naked and distinct proportions.
"Now, Bluewater is a happy fellow," exclaimed Sir Gervaise. "He sees hisgreat enemy, the land, and knows how to deal with it."
"I thought the French were the great and natural enemies of everyBritish sailor," observed Sir Wycherly, simply, but quite to the point.
"Hum--there's truth in that, too. But the land is an enemy to be feared,while the Frenchman is not--hey! Atwood?"
It was, indeed, a goodly sight to view the fine fleet that now layanchored beneath the cliffs of Wychecombe. Sir Gervaise Oakes was, inthat period, considered a successful naval commander, and was afavourite, both at the admiralty and with the nation. His popularityextended to the most distant colonies of England, in nearly all of whichhe had served with zeal and credit. But we are not writing of an age ofnautical wonders, like that which succeeded at the close of the century.The French and Dutch, and even the Spaniards, were then all formidableas naval powers; for revolutions and changes had not destroyed theirmaritime corps, nor had the consequent naval ascendency of Englandannihilated their navigation; the two great causes of the subsequentapparent invincibility of the latter power. Battles at sea, in that day,were warmly contested, and were frequently fruitle
ss; more especiallywhen fleets were brought in opposition. The single combats were usuallymore decisive, though the absolute success of the British flag, was farfrom being as much a matter of course as it subsequently became. In aword, the science of naval warfare had not made those great strides,which marked the career of England in the end, nor had it retrogradedamong her enemies, to the point which appears to have rendered theirdefeat nearly certain. Still Sir Gervaise was a successful officer;having captured several single ships, in bloody encounters, and havingactually led fleets with credit, in four or five of the great battles ofthe times; besides being second and third in command, on various similaroccasions. His own ship was certain to be engaged, let what would happento the others. Equally as captains and as flag-officers, the nation hadbecome familiar with the names of Oakes and Bluewater, as men ever to befound sustaining each other in the thickest of the fight. It may be wellto add here, that both these favourite seamen were men of family, or atleast what was considered men of family among the mere gentry ofEngland; Sir Gervaise being a baronet by inheritance, while his friendactually belonged to one of those naval lines which furnishes admiralsfor generations; his father having worn a white flag at the main; andhis grandfather having been actually ennobled for his services, dyingvice-admiral of England. These fortuitous circumstances perhaps renderedboth so much the greater favourites at court.