The Two Admirals (15 page)

"Ay, Charles in particular," returned the vice-admiral, with something
like a sneer. "There's the second Charles, for instance—St. Charles, as
our good host, Sir Wycherly, might call him—he is a pattern prince for
Englishmen to admire. Then his father was of the school of the
Star-Chamber martyrs!"

"Both were lineal descendants of the Conqueror, and of the Saxon
princes; and both united the double titles to the throne, in their
sacred persons. I have always considered Charles II. as the victim of
the rebellious conduct of his subjects, rather than vicious. He was
driven abroad into a most corrupt state of society, and was perverted by
our wickedness. As to the father, he was the real St. Charles, and a
martyred saint he was; dying for true religion, as well as for his legal
rights. Then the Edwards—glorious fellows!—remember that they were all
but one Plantagenets; a name, of itself, to rouse an Englishman's fire!"

"And yet the only difference between the right of these very
Plantagenets to the throne, and that of the reigning prince, is, that
one produced a revolution by the strong hand, and the other was produced
by a revolution that came from the nation. I do not know that your
Plantagenets ever did any thing for a navy; the only real source of
England's power and glory. D—e, Dick, if I think so much of your
Plantagenets, after all!"

"And yet the name of Oakes is to be met with among their bravest
knights, and most faithful followers."

"The Oakes, like the pines, have been timbers in every ship that has
floated," returned the vice-admiral, half-unconscious himself, of the
pun he was making.

For more than a minute Sir Gervaise continued his walk, his head a
little inclined forward, like a man who pondered deeply on some matter
of interest. Then, suddenly stopping, he turned towards his friend, whom
he regarded for near another minute, ere he resumed the discourse.

"I wish I could fairly get you to exercise your excellent reason on this
matter, Dick," he said, after the pause; "then I should be certain of
having secured you on the side of liberty."

Admiral Bluewater merely shook his head, but he continued silent, as if
he deemed discussion altogether supererogatory. During this pause, a
gentle tap at the door announced a visiter; and, at the request to
enter, Atwood made his appearance. He held in his hand a large package,
which bore on the envelope the usual stamp that indicated it was sent on
public service.

"I beg pardon, Sir Gervaise," commenced the secretary, who always
proceeded at once to business, when business was to be done; "but His
Majesty's service will not admit of delay. This packet has just come to
hand, by the arrival of an express, which left the admiralty only
yesterday noon."

"And how the devil did he know where to find me!" exclaimed the
vice-admiral, holding out a hand to receive the communication.

"It is all owing to this young lieutenant's forethought in following up
the Jacobite intelligence to a market-town. The courier was bound to
Falmouth, as fast as post-horses could carry him, when he heard,
luckily, that the fleet lay at anchor, under Wychecombe Head; and, quite
as luckily, he is an officer who had the intelligence to know that you
would sooner get the despatches, if he turned aside, and came hither by
land, than if he went on to Falmouth, got aboard the sloop that was to
sail with him, for the Bay of Biscay, and came round here by water."

Sir Gervaise smiled at this sally, which was one in keeping with all
Atwood's feelings; for the secretary had matured a system of expresses,
which, to his great mortification, his patron laughed at, and the
admiralty entirely overlooked. No time was lost, however, in the way of
business; the secretary having placed the candles on a table, where Sir
Gervaise took a chair, and had already broken a seal. The process of
reading, nevertheless, was suddenly interrupted by the vice-admiral's
looking up, and exclaiming—

"Why, you are not about to leave us, Bluewater?"

"You may have private business with Mr. Atwood, Sir Gervaise, and
perhaps I had better retire."

Now, it so happened that while Sir Gervaise Oakes had never, by look or
syllable, as he confidently believed, betrayed the secret of his
friend's Jacobite propensities, Atwood was perfectly aware of their
existence. Nor had the latter obtained his knowledge by any unworthy
means. He had been neither an eavesdropper, nor an inquirer into private
communications, as so often happens around the persons of men in high
trusts; all his knowledge having been obtained through native sagacity
and unavoidable opportunities. On the present occasion, the secretary,
with the tact of a man of experience, felt that his presence might be
dispensed with; and he cut short the discussion between the two
admirals, by a very timely remark of his own.

"I have left the letters uncopied, Sir Gervaise," he said, "and will go
and finish them. A message by Locker"—this was Sir Gervaise's
body-servant—"will bring me back at a moment's notice, should you need
me again to-night."

"That Atwood has a surprising instinct, for a Scotchman!" exclaimed the
vice-admiral, as soon as the door was closed on the secretary. "He not
only knows when he
is
wanted, but when he is
not
wanted. The last is
an extraordinary attainment, for one of his nation."

"And one that an Englishman may do well to emulate," returned Bluewater.
"It is possible my company may be dispensed with, also, just at this
important moment."

"You are not so much afraid of the Hanoverians, Dick, as to run away
from their hand-writing, are ye? Ha—what's this?—As I live, a packet
for yourself, and directed to 'Rear-Admiral Sir Richard Bluewater, K.B.'
By the Lord, my old boy, they've given you the red riband at last! This
is an honour well earned, and which may be fitly worn."

"'Tis rather unexpected, I must own. The letter, however, cannot be
addressed to me, as I am not a Knight of the Bath."

"This is rank nonsense. Open the packet, at once, or I will do it for
you. Are there two Dick Bluewaters in the world, or another rear-admiral
of the same name?"

"I would rather not receive a letter that does not strictly bear my
address," returned the other, coldly.

"As I'll be sworn this does. But hand it to me, since you are so
scrupulous, and I will do that small service for you."

As this was said, Sir Gervaise tore aside the seals; and, as he
proceeded rather summarily, a red riband was soon uncased and fell upon
the carpet. The other usual insignia of the Bath made their appearance,
and a letter was found among them, to explain the meaning of all. Every
thing was in due form, and went to acquaint Rear-Admiral Bluewater, that
His Majesty had been graciously pleased to confer on him one of the
vacant red ribands of the day, as a reward for his eminent services on
different occasions. There was even a short communication from the
premier, expressing the great satisfaction of the ministry in thus being
able to second the royal pleasure with hearty good will.

"Well, what do you think of that, Richard Bluewater?" asked Sir
Gervaise, triumphantly. "Did I not always tell you, that sooner or
later, it
must
come?"

"It has come too late, then," coldly returned the other, laying the
riband, jewels, and letters, quietly on the table. "This is an honour, I
can receive,
now
, only from my rightful prince. None other can legally
create a knight of the Bath."

"And pray, Mr. Richard Bluewater, who made you a captain, a commander, a
rear-admiral? Do you believe me an impostor, because I wear this riband
on authority no better than that of the house of Hanover? Am I, or am I
not, in your judgment, a vice-admiral of the red?"

"I make a great distinction, Oakes, between rank in the navy, and a mere
personal dignity. In the one case, you serve your country, and give
quite as much as you receive; whereas, in the other, it is a grace to
confer consideration on the person honoured, without such an equivalent
as can find an apology for accepting a rank illegally conferred."

"The devil take your distinctions, which would unsettle every thing, and
render the service a Babel. If I am a vice-admiral of the red, I am a
knight of the Bath; and, if you are a rear-admiral of the white, you are
also a knight of that honourable order. All comes from the same source
of authority, and the same fountain of honour."

"I do not view it thus. Our commissions are from the admiralty, which
represents the country; but dignities come from the prince who happens
to reign, let
his
title be what it may."

"Do you happen to think Richard III. a usurper, or a lawful prince?"

"A usurper, out of all question; and a murderer to boot. His name should
be struck from the list of English kings. I never hear it, without
execrating him, and his deeds."

"Pooh—pooh, Dick, this is talking more like a poet than a seaman. If
only one-half the sovereigns who deserve to be execrated had their names
erased, the list of even our English kings would be rather short; and
some countries would be without historical kings at all. However much
Richard III. may deserve cashiering in this summary manner, his peers
and laws are just as good as any other prince's peers and laws. Witness
the Duke of Norfolk, for instance."

"Ay, that cannot be helped by me; but it
is
in my power to prevent
Richard Bluewater's being made a knight or the Bath, by George II.; and
the power shall be used."

"It would seem not, as he is already created; and I dare to say,
gazetted."

"The oaths are not yet taken, and it is, at least, an Englishman's
birth-right, to decline an honour; if, indeed, this can be esteemed an
honour, at all."

"Upon my word, Rear-Admiral Sir Richard Bluewater, you are disposed to
be complimentary, to-night! The unworthy knight present, and all the
rest of the order, are infinitely indebted to you!"

"Your case and mine, Oakes, are essentially different," returned the
other, with some emotion in his voice and manner. "Your riband was
fairly won, fighting the battles of England, and can be worn with credit
to yourself and to your country; but these baubles are sent to me, at a
moment when a rising was foreseen, and as a sop to keep me in
good-humour, as well as to propitiate the whole Bluewater interest."

"That is pure conjecture, and I dare say will prove to be altogether a
mistake. Here are the despatches to speak for themselves; and, as it is
scarcely possible that the ministry should have known of this rash
movement of the Pretender's son, more than a few days, my life on it,
the dates will show that your riband was bestowed before the enterprise
was even suspected."

As Sir Gervaise commenced, with his constitutional ardour, to turn over
the letters, as soon as his mind was directed to this particular object,
Admiral Bluewater resumed his seat, awaiting the result, with not a
little curiosity; though, at the same time, with a smile of incredulity.
The examination disappointed Sir Gervaise Oakes. The dates proved that
the ministers were better informed than he had supposed; for it appeared
they had been apprised about the time he was himself of the intended
movement. His orders were to bring the fleet north, and in substance to
do the very thing his own sagacity had dictated. So far every thing was
well; and he could not entertain a doubt about receiving the hearty
approbation of his superiors, for the course he had taken. But here his
gratification ended; for, on looking at the dates of the different
communications, it was evident that the red riband was bestowed after
the intelligence of the Pretender's movement had reached London. A
private letter, from a friend at the Board of Admiralty, too, spoke of
his own probable promotion to the rank of admiral of the blue; and
mentioned several other similar preferments, in a way to show that the
government was fortifying itself, in the present crisis, as much as
possible, by favours. This was a politic mode of procedure, with
ordinary men, it is true; but with officers of the elevation of mind,
and of the independence of character of our two admirals, it was most
likely to produce disgust.

"D—n 'em, Dick," cried Sir Gervaise, as he threw down the last letter
of the package, with no little sign of feeling; "you might take St.
Paul, or even Wychecombe's dead brother, St. James the Less, and put him
at court, and he would come out a thorough blackguard, in a week!"

"That is not the common opinion concerning a court education," quietly
replied the friend; "most people fancying that the place gives
refinement of manners, if not of sentiment."

"Poh—poh—you and I have no need of a dictionary to understand each
other. I call a man who never trusts to a generous motive—who thinks it
always necessary to bribe or cajole—who has no idea of any thing's
being done without its direct
quid pro quo
, a scurvy blackguard,
though he has the airs and graces of Phil. Stanhope, or Chesterfield, as
he is now. What do you think those chaps at the Board, talk of doing, by
way of clinching my loyalty, at this blessed juncture?"

"No doubt to get you raised to the peerage. I see nothing so much out of
the way in the thing. You are of one of the oldest families of England,
and the sixth baronet by inheritance, and have a noble landed estate,
which is none the worse for prize-money. Sir Gervaise Oakes of Bowldero,
would make a very suitable Lord Bowldero."

"If it were only that, I shouldn't mind it; for nothing is easier than
to refuse a peerage. I've done
that
twice already, and can do it a
third time, at need. But one can't very well refuse promotion in his
regular profession; and, here, just as a true gentleman would depend on
the principles of an officer, the hackneyed consciences of your
courtiers have suggested the expediency of making Gervaise Oakes an
admiral of the blue, by way of sop!—me, who was made vice-admiral of
the red, only six months since, and who take an honest pride in boasting
that every commission, from the lowest to the highest, has been fairly
earned in battle!"