Springhaven - R. D. Blackmore
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"Oh, about your working so late, you mean. I offered good advice to you.
I think it is wrong that you should go on, when everybody else has left
off long ago. But perhaps your father makes you."
"Father is a just man," said young Tugwell, drawing up his own
integrity; "now and then he may take a crooked twist, or such like; but
he never goeth out of fair play to his knowledge. He hath a-been hard
upon me this day; but the main of it was to check mother of her ways.
You understand, miss, how the women-folk go on in a house, till the
other women hear of it. And then out-of-doors they are the same as
lambs."
"It is most ungrateful and traitorous of you to your own mother to talk
so. Your mother spoils you, and this is all the thanks she gets! Wait
till you have a wife of your own, Master Daniel!"
"Wait till I am dead then I may, Miss Dolly," he answered, with a depth
of voice which frightened her for a moment; and then he smiled and said,
"I beg your pardon," as gracefully as any gentleman could say it; "but
let me see you safe to your own gate; there are very rough people about
here now, and the times are not quite as they used to be, when we were
a-fighting daily."
He followed her at a respectful distance, and then ran forward and
opened the white gate. "Good-night, Daniel," the young lady said, as
he lifted his working cap to her, showing his bright curls against the
darkening sea; "I am very much obliged to you, and I do hope I have not
said anything to vex you. I have never forgotten all you did for me, and
you must not mind the way I have of saying things."
"What a shame it does appear--what a fearful shame it is," she whispered
to herself as she hurried through the trees--"that he should be
nothing but a fisherman! He is a gentleman in everything but birth and
education; and so strong, and so brave, and so good-looking!"
CHAPTER XI
NO PROMOTION
"Do it again now, Captain Scuddy; do it again; you know you must."
"You touched the rim with your shoe, last time. You are bound to do it
clean, once more."
"No, he didn't. You are a liar; it was only the ribbon of his shoe."
"I'll punch your head if you say that again. It was his heel, and here's
the mark."
"Oh, Scuddy dear, don't notice them. You can do it fifty times running,
if you like. Nobody can run or jump like you. Do it just once more to
please me."
Kitty Fanshawe, a boy with large blue eyes and a purely gentle face,
looked up at Blyth Scudamore so faithfully that to resist him was
impossible.
"Very well, then; once more for Kitty," said the sweetest-tempered of
mankind, as he vaulted back into the tub. "But you know that I always
leave off at a dozen. Thirteen--thirteen I could never stop at. I shall
have to do fourteen at least; and it is too bad, just after dinner. Now
all of you watch whether I touch it anywhere."
A barrel almost five feet in height, and less than a yard in breadth,
stood under a clump of trees in the play-ground; and Blyth Scudamore had
made a clean leap one day, for his own satisfaction, out of it. Sharp
eyes saw him, and sharp wits were pleased, and a strong demand had
arisen that he should perform this feat perpetually. Good nerve, as well
as strong spring, and compactness of power are needed for it; and even
in this athletic age there are few who find it easy.
"Come, now," he said, as he landed lightly, with both heels together;
"one of you big fellows come and do it. You are three inches taller than
I am. And you have only got to make up your minds."
But all the big fellows hung back, or began to stimulate one another,
and to prove to each other how easy it was, by every proof but practice.
"Well, then, I must do it once more," said Blyth, "for I dare not leave
off at thirteen, for fear of some great calamity, such as I never could
jump out of."
But before he could get into the tub again, to prepare for the clear
spring out of it, he beheld a man with silver buttons coming across
the playing-field. His heart fell into his heels, and no more agility
remained in him. He had made up his mind that Admiral Darling would
forget all about him by Saturday; and though the fair image of Dolly
would abide in that quiet mind for a long while, the balance of his
wishes (cast by shyness) was heavily against this visit. And the boys,
who understood his nature, with a poignant love--like that of our
friends in this world--began to probe his tender places.
"One more jump, Captain Scuddy! You must; to show the flunky what you
can do."
"Oh, don't I wish I was going? He'll have turtle soup, and venison, and
two men behind his chair."
"And the beautiful young ladies looking at him every time he takes a
mouthful."
"But he dare not go courting after thirteen jumps. And he has vowed that
he will have another. Come, Captain Scuddy, no time to lose."
But Scudamore set off to face his doom, with his old hat hanging on the
back of his head--as it generally did--and his ruddy face and mild blue
eyes full of humorous diffidence and perplexity.
"If you please, sir, his honour the Hadmiral have sent me to fetch 'e
and your things; and hoss be baiting along of the Blue Dragon."
"I am sorry to say that I forgot all about it, or, at least, I thought
that he would. How long before we ought to start?"
"My name is Gregory, sir--Coachman Gregory--accustomed always to a pair,
but doesn't mind a single hoss, to oblige the Hadmiral, once in a way.
About half an hour, sir, will suit me, unless they comes down to the
skittle-alley, as ought to be always on a Saturday afternoon; but not a
soul there when I looked in."
Any man in Scudamore's position, except himself, would have grieved and
groaned. For the evening dress of that time, though less gorgeous than
of the age before, was still an expensive and elaborate affair; and the
young man, in this ebb of fortune, was poorly stocked with raiment. But
he passed this trouble with his usual calmness and disregard of trifles.
"If I wear the best I have got," he thought, "I cannot be charged with
disrespect. The Admiral knows what a sailor is; and, after all, who will
look at me?" Accordingly he went just as he was, for he never wore an
overcoat, but taking a little canvas kit, with pumps and silk stockings
for evening wear, and all the best that he could muster of his Volunteer
equipment.
The Admiral came to the door of the Hall, and met him with such hearty
warmth, and a glance of such kind approval at his open throat and
glowing cheeks, that the young man felt a bound of love and tender
veneration towards him, which endured for lifetime.
"Your father was my dearest friend, and the very best man I ever knew.
I must call you 'Blyth,'" said the Admiral, "for if I call you
'Scudamore,' I shall think perpetually of my loss."
At dinner that day there was no other guest, and nothing to disturb the
present one, except a young lady's quick glances, of which he endeavored
to have no knowledge. Faith Darling, a gentle and beautiful young
woman, had taken a natural liking to him, because of his troubles, and
simplicity, and devotion to his widowed mother. But to the younger,
Dolly Darling, he was only a visitor, dull and stupid, requiring,
without at all repaying, the trouble of some attention. He was not tall,
nor handsome, nor of striking appearance in any way; and although he was
clearly a gentleman, to her judgment he was not an accomplished, or
even a clever one. His inborn modesty and shyness placed him at great
disadvantage, until well known; and the simple truth of his nature
forbade any of the large talk and bold utterance which pleased her as
yet among young officers.
"What a plague he will be all day tomorrow!" she said to her sister in
the drawing-room. "Father was obliged, I suppose, to invite him; but
what can we do with him all the day? Sundays are dull enough, I am sure,
already, without our having to amuse a gentleman who has scarcely
got two ideas of his own, and is afraid to say 'bo' to a goose, I do
believe. Did you hear what he said when I asked him whether he was fond
of riding?"
"Yes; and I thought it so good of him, to answer so straightforwardly.
He said that he used to be very fond of it, but was afraid that he
should fall off now."
"I should like to see him. I tell you what we'll do. We will make him
ride back on Monday morning, and put him on 'Blue Bangles,' who won't
have seen daylight since Friday. Won't he jump about a bit! What a shame
it is, not to let us ride on Sundays!"
Ignorant of these kind intentions, Scudamore was enjoying himself in
his quiet, observant way. Mr. Twemlow, the rector of the parish, had
chanced--as he often chanced on a Saturday, after buckling up a brace
of sermons--to issue his mind (with his body outside it) for a little
relief of neighbourhood. And these little airings of his chastening
love--for he loved everybody, when he had done his sermon--came,
whenever there was a fair chance of it, to a glass of the fine old port
which is the true haven for an ancient Admiral.
"Just in time, Rector," cried Admiral Darling, who had added by many
a hardship to his inborn hospitality. "This is my young friend Blyth
Scudamore, the son of one of my oldest friends. You have heard of Sir
Edmond Scudamore?"
"And seen him and felt him. And to him I owe, under a merciful
Providence, the power of drinking in this fine port the health of his
son, which I do with deep pleasure, for the excellence both of end and
means."
The old man bowed at the praise of his wine, and the young one at that
of his father. Then, after the usual pinch of snuff from the Rector's
long gold box, the host returned to the subject he had been full of
before this interruption.
"The question we have in hand is this. What is to be done with our
friend Blyth? He was getting on famously, till this vile peace came.
Twemlow, you called it that yourself, so that argument about words is
useless. Blyth's lieutenancy was on the books, and the way they carry
things on now, and shoot poor fellows' heads off, he might have been
a post-captain in a twelvemonth. And now there seems nothing on earth
before him better than Holy-Orders."
"Admiral Darling is kind enough to think," said Scudamore, in his mild,
hesitative way, blushing outwardly, but smiling inwardly, "that I am too
good to be a clergyman."
"And so you are, and Heaven knows it, Blyth, unless there was a chance
of getting on by goodness, which there is in the Navy, but not in the
Church. Twemlow, what is your opinion?"
"It would not be modest in me," said the Rector, "to stand up too much
for my own order. We do our duty, and we don't get on."
"Exactly. You could not have put it better. You get no vacancies by shot
and shell, and being fit for another world, you keep out of it. Have you
ever heard me tell the story about Gunner MacCrab, of the Bellerophon?"
"Fifty times, and more than that," replied the sturdy parson, who liked
to make a little cut at the Church sometimes, but would not allow any
other hand to do it. "But now about our young friend here. Surely, with
all that we know by this time of the character of that Bony, we can see
that this peace is a mere trick of his to bamboozle us while he gets
ready. In six months we shall be at war again, hammer and tongs, as sure
as my name is Twemlow."
"So be it!" cried the Admiral, with a stamp on his oak floor, while
Scudamore's gentle eyes flashed and fell; "if it is the will of God, so
be it. But if it once begins again, God alone knows where France will be
before you and I are in our graves. They have drained all our patience,
and our pockets very nearly; but they have scarcely put a tap into our
energy and endurance. But what are they? A gang of slaves, rammed into
the cannon by a Despot."
"They seem to like it, and the question is for them. But the struggle
will be desperate, mountains of carnage, oceans of blood, universal
mourning, lamentation, and woe. And I have had enough trouble with my
tithes already."
"Tithes are dependent on the will of the Almighty," said the Admiral,
who paid more than he altogether liked; "but a war goes by reason and
good management. It encourages the best men of the day, and it brings
out the difference between right and wrong, which are quite smothered up
in peace time. It keeps out a quantity of foreign rubbish and stuff only
made to be looked at, and it makes people trust one another, and know
what country they belong to, and feel how much they have left to be
thankful for. And what is the use of a noble fleet, unless it can get
some fighting? Blyth, what say you? You know something about that."
"No, sir, I have never been at close quarters yet. And I doubt--or at
least I am certain that I should not like it. I am afraid that I should
want to run down below."
Mr. Twemlow, having never smelled hostile powder, gazed at him rather
loftily, while the young man blushed at his own truth, yet looked up
bravely to confirm it.
"Of all I have ever known or met," said Admiral Darling, quietly,
"there are but three--Nelson and two others, and one of those two was
half-witted--who could fetch up muzzle to muzzle without a feeling of
that sort. The true courage lies in resisting the impulse, more than
being free from it. I know that I was in a precious fright the first
time I was shot at, even at a decent distance; and I don't pretend to
like it even now. But I am pretty safe now from any further chance, I
fear. When we cut our wisdom-teeth, they shelf us. Twemlow, how much
wiser you are in the Church! The older a man gets, the higher they
promote him."
"Then let them begin with me," the Rector answered, smiling; "I am old
enough now for almost anything, and the only promotion I get is stiff
joints, and teeth that crave peace from an olive. Placitam paci, Mr.
Scudamore knows the rest, being fresh from the learned Stonnington.
But, Squire, you know that I am content. I love Springhaven, Springhaven
loves me, and we chasten one another."
"A man who knows all the Latin you know, Rector--for I own that you beat
me to the spelling-book--should be at least an Archdeacon in the Church,
which is equal to the rank of Rear-Admiral. But you never have pushed
as you should do; and you let it all off in quotations. Those are very
comforting to the mind, but I never knew a man do good with them, unless
they come out of the Bible. When Gunner Matthew of the Erigdoupos was
waiting to have his leg off, with no prospect before him--except a
better world--you know what our Chaplain said to him; and the effect
upon his mind was such, that I have got him to this day upon my land."
"Of course you have--the biggest old poacher in the county. He shoots
half your pheasants with his wooden leg by moonlight. What your Chaplain
said to him was entirely profane in the turn of a text of Holy-Writ;
and it shows how our cloth is spoiled by contact with yours"--for the
Admiral was laughing to himself at this old tale, which he would
not produce before young Scudamore, but loved to have out with the
Rector--"and I hope it will be a good warning to you, Squire, to
settle no more old gunners on your property. You must understand, Mr.
Scudamore, that the Admiral makes a sort of Naval Hospital, for all his
old salts, on his own Estates."
"I am sure it is wonderfully kind in him," the young man answered,
bravely, "for the poor old fellows are thrown to the dogs by the
country, when it has disabled them. I have not seen much of the service,
but quite enough to know that, Mr. Twemlow."
"I have seen a great deal, and I say that it is so. And my good friend
knows it as well as I do, and is one of the first to lend a helping
hand. In all such cases he does more than I do, whenever they come
within his knowledge. But let us return to the matter in hand. Here is
a young man, a first-rate sailor, who would have been under my
guardianship, I know, but for--but for sad circumstances. Is he to be
grinding at Virgil and Ovid till all his spirit goes out of him, because
we have patched up a very shabby peace? It can never last long. Every
Englishman hates it, although it may seem to save his pocket. Twemlow,
I am no politician. You read the papers more than I do. How much longer
will this wretched compact hold? You have predicted the course of things
before."
"And so I will again," replied the Rector. "Atheism, mockery, cynicism,
blasphemy, lust, and blood-thirstyness cannot rage and raven within
a few leagues of a godly and just nation without stinking in their
nostrils. Sir, it is our mission from the Lord to quench Bony, and
to conquer the bullies of Europe. We don't look like doing it now, I
confess. But do it we shall, in the end, as sure as the name of our
country is England."
"I have no doubt of it," said the Admiral, simply; "but there will be a
deal of fighting betwixt this and then. Blyth, will you leave me to see
what I can do, whenever we get to work again?"
"I should think that I would, sir, and never forget it. I am not fond of
fighting; but how I have longed to feel myself afloat again!"
CHAPTER XII
AT THE YEW-TREE
All the common-sense of England, more abundant in those days than now,
felt that the war had not been fought out, and the way to the lap of
peace could only be won by vigorous use of the arms. Some few there
were even then, as now there is a cackling multitude, besotted enough to
believe that facts can be undone by blinking them. But our forefathers
on the whole were wise, and knew that nothing is trampled more basely
than right that will not right itself.
Therefore they set their faces hard, and toughened their hearts like
knotted oak, against all that man could do to them. There were no
magnificent proclamations, no big vaunts of victory at the buckling
on of armour, but the quiet strength of steadfast wills, and the stern
resolve to strike when stricken, and try to last the longest. And so
their mother-land became the mother of men and freedom.
In November, 1802, the speech from the throne apprised the world that
England was preparing. The widest, longest, and deadliest war, since the
date of gunpowder, was lowering; and the hearts of all who loved their
kin were heavy, but found no help for it.
The sermon which Mr. Twemlow preached in Springhaven church was
magnificent. Some parishioners, keeping memory more alert than
conscience, declared that they had received it all nine, or it might be
ten, years since, when the fighting first was called for. If so, that
proved it none the worse, but themselves, for again requiring it. Their
Rector told them that they thought too much of their own flesh-pots and
fish-kettles, and their country might go to the bottom of the sea, if it
left them their own fishing-grounds. And he said that they would wake up
some day and find themselves turned into Frenchmen, for all things were
possible with the Lord; and then they might smite their breasts, but
must confess that they had deserved it. Neither would years of prayer
and fasting fetch them back into decent Englishmen; the abomination of
desolation would be set up over their doorways, and the scarlet woman of
Babylon would revel in their sanctuaries.
"Now don't let none of us be in no hurry," Captain Tugwell said, after
dwelling and sleeping upon this form of doctrine; "a man knoweth his own
trade the best, the very same way as the parson doth. And I never knew
no good to come of any hurry. Our lives are given us by the Lord. And He
never would 'a made 'em threescore and ten, or for men of any strength
fourscore, if His will had been to jerk us over them. Never did I see no
Frenchman as could be turned to an Englishman, not if he was to fast and
pray all day, and cut himself with knives at the going down of the sun.
My opinion is that Parson Twemlow were touched up by his own conscience
for having a nephew more French than English; and 'Caryl Carne' is the
name thereof, with more French than English sound to it."
"Why, he have been gone for years and years," said the landlord of the
Darling Arms, where the village was holding council; "he have never
been seen in these parts since the death of the last Squire Carne, to my
knowledge."
"And what did the old Squire die of, John Prater? Not that he were to be
called old--younger, I dare say, than I be now. What did he die of, but
marrying with a long outlandish 'ooman? A femmel as couldn't speak a
word of English, to be anyhow sure of her meaning! Ah, them was bad
times at Carne Castle; and as nice a place as need be then, until they
dipped the property. Six grey horses they were used to go with to London
Parliament every year, before the last Squire come of age, as I have
heered my father say scores of times, and no lie ever come from his
mouth, no more than it could from mine, almost. Then they dropped to
four, and then to two, and pretended that the roads were easier."
"When I was down the coast, last week, so far as Littlehampton," said
a stout young man in the corner, "a very coorous thing happened me,
leastways by my own opinion, and glad shall I be to have the judgment
of Cappen Zeb consarning it. There come in there a queer-rigged craft
of some sixty ton from Halvers, desiring to set up trade again, or to do
some smoogling, or spying perhaps. Her name was the Doctor Humm, which
seem a great favorite with they Crappos, and her skipper had a queer
name too, as if he was two men in one, for he called himself 'Jacks'; a
fellow about forty year old, as I hauled out of the sea with a boat-hook
one night on the Varners. Well, he seemed to think a good deal of that,
though contrary to their nature, and nothing would do but I must go to
be fated with him everywhere, if the folk would change his money. He had
picked up a decent bit of talk from shipping in the oyster line before
the war; and I put his lingo into order for him, for which he was very
thankful."
"And so he was bound to be. But you had no call to do it, Charley
Bowles." Captain Tugwell spoke severely, and the young man felt that he
was wrong, for the elders shook their heads at him, as a traitor to the
English language.
"Well, main likely, I went amiss. But he seemed to take it so uncommon
kind of me hitching him with a boat-hook, that we got on together
wonderful, and he called me 'Friar Sharley,' and he tried to take up
with our manners and customs; but his head was outlandish for English
grog. One night he was three sheets in the wind, at a snug little crib
by the river, and he took to the brag as is born with them. 'All dis
contray in one year now,' says he, nodding over his glass at me, 'shall
be of the grand nashong, and I will make a great man of you, Friar
Sharley. Do you know what prawns are, my good friend?' Well, I said I
had caught a good many in my time; but he laughed and said, 'Prawns will
catch you this time. One tousand prawns, all with two hondred men inside
him, and the leetle prawns will come to land at your house, Sharley.
Bootiful place, quiet sea, no bad rocks. You look out in the morning,
and the white coast is made black with them.' Now what do you say to
that, Cappen Tugwell?"
"I've a-heered that style of talk many times afore," Master Tugwell
answered, solidly; "and all I can say is that I should have punched his
head. And you deserve the same thing, Charley Bowles, unless you've got
more than that to tell us."
"So I might, Cappen, and I won't deny you there. But the discourse were
consarning Squire Carne now just, and the troubles he fell into, before
I was come to my judgment yet. Why, an uncle of mine served footman
there--Jeremiah Bowles, known to every one, until he was no more heard
of."
Nods of assent to the fame of Jeremiah encouraged the stout young man in
his tale, and a wedge of tobacco rekindled him.
"Yes, it were a coorous thing indeed, and coorous for me to hear of it,
out of all mast-head of Springhaven. Says Moosoo Jacks to me, that night
when I boused him up unpretending: 'You keep your feather eye open, my
tear,' for such was his way of pronouncing it, 'and you shall arrive to
laglore, laglore--and what is still nobler, de monnay. In one two tree
month, you shall see a young captain returned to his contray dominion,
and then you will go to his side and say Jacks, and he will make present
to you a sack of silver.' Well, I hailed the chance of this pretty
smart, you may suppose, and I asked him what the sailor's name would be,
and surprised I was when he answered Carne, or Carny, for he gave it in
two syllables. Next morning's tide, the Doctor Humm cleared out, and I
had no other chance of discourse with Moosoo Jacks. But I want to know
what you think, Cappen Zeb."
"So you shall," said the captain of Springhaven, sternly. "I think
you had better call your Moosoo Jacks 'Master Jackass,' or 'Master
Jackanapes,' and put your own name on the back of him. You been with a
Frenchman hob and nobbing, and you don't even know how they pronounce
themselves, unchristian as it is to do so. 'Jarks' were his name, the
very same as Navy beef, and a common one in that country. But to speak
of any Carne coming nigh us with French plottings, and of prawns landing
here at Springhaven--'tis as likely as I should drop French money into
the till of this baccy-box. And you can see that I be not going to play
such a trick as that, John Prater."