Джеймс Фенимор Купер: The Two Admirals

“And have you, young lady, any of that overweening prejudice in favour of your own island?”

“I hope not; but I think most persons have. Mr. Wycherly Wychecombe admits that Virginia is inferior to England, in a thousand things; and yet he seems to take pride in his birthplace.”

“Every sentiment of this nature is to be traced to self. We know that the fact is irretrievable, and struggle to be proud of what we cannot help. The Turk will tell you he has the honour to be a native of Stamboul; the Parisian will boast of his Faubourg; and the cockney exults in Wapping. Personal conceit lies at the bottom of all; for we fancy that places to which we belong, are not places to be ashamed of.”

“And yet I do not think Mr. Wycherly at all remarkable for conceit. On the contrary, he is rather diffident and unassuming.”

This was said simply, but so sincerely, as to induce the listener to fasten his penetrating blue eye on the speaker, who now first took the alarm, and felt that she might have said too much. At this moment the two young men entered, and a servant appeared to request that Admiral Bluewater would do Sir Gervaise Oakes the favour to join him, in the dressing-room of the latter.

Tom Wychecombe reported the condition of the dinner-table to be such, as to render it desirable for all but three and four-bottle men to retire. Hanoverian toasts and sentiments were in the ascendant, and there was every appearance that those who remained intended to make a night of it. This was sad intelligence for Mrs. Dutton, who had come forward eagerly to hear the report, but who now returned to the window, apparently irresolute as to the course she ought to take. As both the young men remained near Mildred, she had sufficient opportunity to come to her decision, without interruption, or hindrance.

Rear-Admiral Bluewater found Sir Gervaise Oakes pacing a large dressing-room, quarter-deck fashion, with as much zeal, as if just released from a long sitting, on official duty, in his own cabin. As the two officers were perfectly familiar with each other’s personal habits, neither deviated from his particular mode of indulging his ease; but the last comer quietly took his seat in a large chair, disposing of his person in a way to show he intended to consult his comfort, let what would happen.

“Bluewater,” commenced Sir Gervaise, “this is a very foolish affair of the Pretender’s son, and can only lead to his destruction. I look upon it as altogether unfortunate.”

“That, as it may terminate. No man can tell what a day, or an hour, may bring forth. I am sure, such a rising was one of the last things I have been anticipating, down yonder, in the Bay of Biscay.”

“I wish, with all my heart, we had never left it,” muttered Sir Gervaise, so low that his companion did not hear him. Then he added, in a louder tone, “ Our duty, however, is very simple. We have only to obey orders; and it seems that the young man has no naval force to sustain him. We shall probably be sent to watch Brest, or l’Orient, or some other port. Monsieur must be kept in, let what will happen.”

“I rather think it would be better to let him out, our chances on the high seas being at least as good as his own. I am no friend to blockades, which strike me as an un-English mode of carrying on a war.”

“You are right enough, Dick, in the main,” returned Sir Gervaise, laughing.

“Ay, and on the main, Oakes. I sincerely hope the First Lord will not send a man like you, who are every way so capable of giving an account of your enemy with plenty of sea-room, on duly so scurvy as a blockade.”

“A man like me ! Why a man like me in particular? I trust I am to have the pleasure of Admiral Bluewater’s company, advice and assistance?”

“An inferior never can know, Sir Gervaise, where it may suit the pleasure of his superiors to order him.”

“That distinction of superior and inferior, Bluewater, will one day lead you into a confounded scrape, I fear. If you consider Charles Stuart your sovereign, it is not probable that orders issued by a servant of King George will be much respected. I hope you will do nothing hastily, or without consulting your oldest and truest friend!”

“You know my sentiments, and there is little use in dwelling on them, now. So long as the quarrel was between my own country and a foreign land, I have been content to serve; but when my lawful prince, or his son and heir, comes in this gallant and chivalrous manner, throwing himself, as it might be, into the very arms of his subjects, confiding all to their loyalty and spirit; it makes such an appeal to every nobler feeling, that the heart finds it difficult to repulse. I could have joined Norris, with right good will, in dispersing and destroying the armament that Louis XV. was sending against us, in this very cause; but here every thing is English, and Englishmen have the quarrel entirely to themselves. I do not see how, as a loyal subject of my hereditary prince, I can well refrain from joining his standard.”

“And would you , Dick Bluewater, who, to my certain knowledge, were sent on board ship at twelve years of age, and who, for more than forty years, have been a man-of-war’s-man, body and soul; would you now strip your old hulk of the sea-blue that has so long covered and become it, rig yourself out like a soldier, with a feather in your hat, – ay, d – – e, and a camp-kettle on your arm, and follow a drummer, like one of your kinsmen, Lord Bluewater’s fellows of the guards? – for of sailors, your lawful prince, as you call him, hasn’t enough to stopper his conscience, or to whip the tail of his coat, to keep it from being torn to tatters by the heather of Scotland. If you do follow the adventurer, it must be in some such character, since I question if he can muster a seaman, to tell him the bearings of London from Perth.”

“When I join him, he will be better off.”

“And what could even you do alone, among a parcel of Scotchmen, running about their hills under bare poles? Your signals will not man[oe]uvre regiments, and as for man[oe]uvr-ing in any other manner, you know nothing. No – no; stay where you are, and help an old friend with knowledge that is useful to him. – I should be afraid to do a dashing thing, unless I felt the certainty of having you in my van, to strike the first blow; or in my rear, to bring me off, handsomely.

“You would be afraid of nothing, Gervaise Oakes, whether I stood at your elbow, or were off in Scotland. Fear is not your failing, though temerity may be.”

“Then I want your presence to keep me within the bounds of reason,” said Sir Gervaise, stopping short in his walk, and looking his friend smilingly in the face. “In some mode, or other, I always need your aid.”

“I understand the meaning of your words, Sir Gervaise, and appreciate the feeling that dictates them. You must have a perfect conviction that I will do nothing hastily, and that I will betray no trust. When I turn my back on King George, it will be loyalty, in one sense, whatever he may think of it in another; and when I join Prince Charles Edward, it will be with a conscience that he need not be ashamed to probe. What names he bears! They are the designations of ancient English sovereigns, and ought of themselves, to awaken the sensibilities of Englishmen.”

“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!”