The Two Admirals (7 page)

"Lugger!—ha! what Atwood? You surely do not mean, young gentleman, la
Voltigeuse?"

"That was the name of the craft, sir—we found her in the roads of
Groix."

"And then I've the pleasure of seeing Mr. Wychecombe, the young officer
who led in that gallant attack?"

This was said with a most flattering warmth of manner, the stranger even
rising and removing his hat, as he uttered the words with a heartiness
that 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; one
of the lieutenants of our ship being in another boat."

"Yes—I know all that—but he was beaten off, while you boarded and did
the 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 had
been 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 rewarding
a failure," returned the stranger, coldly. "Success is all in all, in
war. Ah! there the fellows begin to show themselves, Atwood."

This remark drew all eyes, again, towards the sea, where a sight now
presented itself that was really worthy of a passing notice. The vapour
appeared to have become packed into a mass of some eighty or a hundred
feet in height, leaving a perfectly clear atmosphere above it. In the
clear air, were visible the upper spars and canvass of the entire fleet
mentioned by the stranger; sixteen sail in all. There were the eleven
two-deckers, and the three frigates, rising in pyramids of canvass,
still fanning in towards the anchorage, which in that roadstead was
within pistol-shot of the shore; while the royals and upper part of the
topgallant sails of the sloop seemed to stand on the surface of the fog,
like a monument. After a moment's pause, Wychecombe discovered even the
head of the cutter's royal-mast, with the pennant lazily fluttering
ahead of it, partly concealed in vapour. The fog seemed to settle,
instead of rising, though it evidently rolled along the face of the
waters, putting the whole scene in motion. It was not long ere the tops
of the ships of the line became visible, and then living beings were for
the first time seen in the moving masses.

"I suppose we offer just such a sight to the top-men of the ships, as
they offer to us," observed the stranger. "They
must
see this
head-land and flag-staff, Mr. Wychecombe; and there can be no danger of
their standing in too far!"

"I should think not, sir; certainly the men aloft can see the cliffs
above the fog, as we see the vessels' spars. Ha! Mr. Dutton, there is a
rear-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 side
of the line, you will find a bit of square bunting at the fore, which
will tell you there is a vice-admiral beneath it."

"Quite true!" exclaimed Wychecombe, who was ever enthusiastic on matters
relating to his profession; "a vice-admiral of the red, too; which is
the next step to being a full admiral. This must be the fleet of Sir
Digby Downes!"

"No, young gentleman," returned the stranger, who perceived by the
glance of the other's eye, that a question was indirectly put to
himself; "it is the southern squadron; and the vice-admiral's flag you
see, belongs to Sir Gervaise Oakes. Admiral Bluewater is on board the
ship that carries a flag at the mizzen."

"Those two officers always go together, Sir Wycherly," added the young
man. "Whenever we hear the name of Sir Gervaise, that of Bluewater is
certain to accompany it. Such a union in service is delightful to
witness."

"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 a
lieutenant into the Squid, the last followed as a mate. Oakes was first
of the Briton, in her action with the Spanish frigates, and Bluewater
third. For that affair Oakes got a sloop, and his friend went with him
as his first. The next year they had the luck to capture a heavier ship
than their own, when, for the first time in their service, the two young
men were separated; Oakes getting a frigate, and Bluewater getting the
Squid. Still they cruised in company, until the senior was sent in
command of a flying squadron, with a broad pennant, when the junior, who
by this time was post, received his old messmate on board his own
frigate. In that manner they served together, down to the hour when the
first hoisted his flag. From that time, the two old seamen have never
been parted; Bluewater acting as the admiral's captain, until he got the
square bunting himself. The vice-admiral has never led the van of a
fleet, that the rear-admiral did not lead the rear-division; and, now
that Sir Gervaise is a commander-in-chief, you see his friend, Dick
Bluewater, is cruising in his company."

While the stranger was giving this account of the Two Admirals, in a
half-serious, half-jocular manner, the eyes of his companions were on
him. He was a middle-sized, red-faced man, with an aquiline nose, a
light-blue animated eye, and a mouth, which denoted more of the habits
and care of refinement than either his dress or his ordinary careless
mien. A great deal is said about the aristocracy of the ears, and the
hands, and the feet; but of all the features, or other appliances of the
human frame, the mouth and the nose have the greatest influence in
producing an impression of gentility. This was peculiarly the case with
the stranger, whose beak, like that of an ancient galley, gave the
promise of a stately movement, and whose beautiful teeth and winning
smile, often relieved the expression of a countenance that was not
unfrequently stern. As he ceased speaking, Dutton rose, in a studied
manner, raised his hat entirely from his head, bowed his body nearly to
a right angle, and said,

"Unless my memory is treacherous, I believe I have the honor to see
Rear-Admiral Bluewater, himself; I was a mate in the Medway, when he
commanded the Chloe; and, unless five-and-twenty years have made more
changes 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 much
worse man, in all respects, than Admiral Bluewater. They say that man
and wife, from living together, and thinking alike, having the same
affections, loving the same objects, or sometimes hating them, get in
time to look alike; hey! Atwood? It may be that I am growing like
Bluewater, on the same principle; but this is the first time I ever
heard the thing suggested. I am Sir Gervaise Oakes, at your service,
sir."

The bow of Dutton was now much lower than before, while young Wychecombe
uncovered himself, and Sir Wycherly arose and paid his compliments
cordially, introducing himself, and offering the admiral and all his
officers the hospitality of the Hall.

"Ay, this is straight-forward and hearty, and in the good old English
manner!" exclaimed the admiral, when he had returned the salutes, and
cordially thanked the baronet. "One might land in Scotland, now,
anywhere between the Tweed and John a'Groat's house, and not be asked so
much as to eat an oaten cake; hey! Atwood?—always excepting the
mountain dew."

"You will have your fling at my poor countrymen, Sir Gervaise, and so
there is no more to be said on the subject," returned the secretary, for
such was the rank of the admiral's companion. "I might feel hurt at
times, did I not know that you get as many Scotsmen about you, in your
own ship, as you can; and that a fleet is all the better in your
judgment, for having every other captain from the land o' cakes."

"Did you ever hear the like of that, Sir Wycherly? Because I stick to a
man I like, he accuses me of having a predilection for his whole
country. Here's Atwood, now; he was my clerk, when in a sloop; and he
has followed me to the Plantagenet, and because I do not throw him
overboard, 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 the
marine officers, and the fourth lieutenant, to keep me company, Sir
Gervaise," answered the secretary, smiling like one accustomed to his
superior's jokes, and who cared very little about them. "When you send
us all back to Scotland, I'm thinking there will be many a good vacancy
to fill."

"The Scotch make themselves very useful, Sir Gervaise," put in Sir
Wycherly, by way of smoothing the matter over; "and now we have a
Brunswick prince on the throne, we Englishmen have less jealousy of them
than formerly. I am sure I should be happy to see all the gentlemen
mentioned by Mr. Atwood, at Wychecombe Hall."

"There, you're all well berthed while the fleet lies in these roads. Sir
Wycherly, 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 spars
were 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 single
hull to uphold them. The tops of all the two-decked ships are as plainly
to be seen, as if the air were without a particle of vapour, while all
below the cat-harpings is hid in a cloud as thick as the smoke of
battle. 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, until
quite close under them. We went altogether by the lead, the masters
feeling their way like so many blind beggars!"

"We always keep that nine-pounder loaded, Sir Gervaise," returned the
master, "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 and
light this match, I will prime, and we may give 'em warning where they
are, in less than a minute."

The admiral gave a ready assent to this proposition, and the respective
parties immediately set about putting it in execution. Wychecombe
hastened to the house to light the match, glad of an opportunity to
inquire after Mildred; while Dutton produced a priming-horn from a sort
of arm-chest that stood near the gun, and put the latter in a condition
to be discharged. The young man was absent but a minute, and when all
was ready, he turned towards the admiral, in order to get the signal to
proceed.

"Let 'em have it, Mr. Wychecombe," cried Sir Gervaise, smiling; "it will
wake Bluewater up; perhaps he may favour us with a broadside, by way of
retort."

The match was applied, and the report of the gun succeeded. Then
followed a pause of more than a minute; when the fog lifted around the
Cæsar, the ship that wore a rear-admiral's flag, a flash like lightning
was seen glancing in the mist, and then came the bellowing of a piece of
heavy ordnance. Almost at the same instant, three little flags appeared
at the mast-head of the Cæsar, for previously to quitting his own ship,
Sir Gervaise had sent a message to his friend, requesting him to take
care of the fleet. This was the signal to anchor. The effect of all
this, as seen from the height, was exceedingly striking. As yet not a
single 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 above
was bright, distinct, and so near, as almost to render it possible to
distinguish persons. There every thing was vivid, while a sort of
supernatural mystery veiled all beneath. Each ship had an officer aloft
to look out for signals, and no sooner had the Cæsar opened her three
little flags, which had long been suspended in black balls, in readiness
for this service, than the answers were seen floating at the mast-head
of each of the vessels. Then commenced a spectacle still more curious
than that which those on the cliff had so long been regarding with
interest. Ropes began to move, and the sails were drawn up in festoons,
apparently without the agency of hands. Cut off from a seeming
communication with the ocean, or the hulls, the spars of the different
ships appeared to be instinct with life; each machine playing its own
part independently of the others, but all having the same object in
view. In a very few minutes the canvass was hauled up, and the whole
fleet was swinging to the anchors. Presently head after head was thrown
out of the fog, the upper yards were alive with men, and the sails were
handed. Next came the squaring of the yards, though this was imperfectly
done, and a good deal by guess-work. The men came down, and there lay a
noble fleet at anchor, with nothing visible to those on the cliffs, but
their top-hamper and upper spars.

Sir Gervaise Oakes had been so much struck and amused with a sight that
to him happened to be entirely novel, that he did not speak during the
whole process of anchoring. Indeed, many a man might pass his life at
sea, and never witness such a scene; but those who have, know that it is
one of the most beautiful and striking spectacles connected with the
wonders of the great deep.

By this time the sun had got so high, as to begin to stir the fog, and
streams of vapour were shooting up from the beach, like smoke rising
from coal-pits. The wind increased, too, and rolled the vapour before
it, and in less than ten minutes, the veil was removed; ship after ship
coming out in plain view, until the entire fleet was seen riding in the
roadstead, in its naked and distinct proportions.

"Now, Bluewater is a happy fellow," exclaimed Sir Gervaise. "He sees his
great enemy, the land, and knows how to deal with it."

"I thought the French were the great and natural enemies of every
British sailor," observed Sir Wycherly, simply, but quite to the point.