Springhaven: A Tale of the Great War

by R. D. Blackmore

  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 itclean, 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'sthe 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 toplease 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 wasimpossible.

  "Very well, then; once more for Kitty," said the sweetest-tempered ofmankind, as he vaulted back into the tub. "But you know that I alwaysleave off at a dozen. Thirteen--thirteen I could never stop at. I shallhave to do fourteen at least; and it is too bad, just after dinner. Nowall 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 hadmade a clean leap one day, for his own satisfaction, out of it. Sharpeyes saw him, and sharp wits were pleased, and a strong demand hadarisen that he should perform this feat perpetually. Good nerve, as wellas strong spring, and compactness of power are needed for it; and evenin 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 thanI 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 leaveoff at thirteen, for fear of some great calamity, such as I never couldjump out of."

  But before he could get into the tub again, to prepare for the clearspring out of it, he beheld a man with silver buttons coming acrossthe playing-field. His heart fell into his heels, and no more agilityremained in him. He had made up his mind that Admiral Darling wouldforget all about him by Saturday; and though the fair image of Dollywould abide in that quiet mind for a long while, the balance of hiswishes (cast by shyness) was heavily against this visit. And the boys,who understood his nature, with a poignant love--like that of ourfriends in this world--began to probe his tender places.

  "One more jump, Captain Scuddy! You must; to show the flunky what youcan do."

  "Oh, don't I wish I was going? He'll have turtle soup, and venison, andtwo men behind his chair."

  "And the beautiful young ladies looking at him every time he takes amouthful."

  "But he dare not go courting after thirteen jumps. And he has vowed thathe will have another. Come, Captain Scuddy, no time to lose."

  But Scudamore set off to face his doom, with his old hat hanging on theback of his head--as it generally did--and his ruddy face and mild blueeyes full of humorous diffidence and perplexity.

  "If you please, sir, his honour the Hadmiral have sent me to fetch 'eand 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 thoughtthat 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 theskittle-alley, as ought to be always on a Saturday afternoon; but not asoul there when I looked in."

  Any man in Scudamore's position, except himself, would have grieved andgroaned. For the evening dress of that time, though less gorgeous thanof the age before, was still an expensive and elaborate affair; and theyoung man, in this ebb of fortune, was poorly stocked with raiment. Buthe 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 withdisrespect. The Admiral knows what a sailor is; and, after all, who willlook at me?" Accordingly he went just as he was, for he never wore anovercoat, but taking a little canvas kit, with pumps and silk stockingsfor evening wear, and all the best that he could muster of his Volunteerequipment.

  The Admiral came to the door of the Hall, and met him with such heartywarmth, and a glance of such kind approval at his open throat andglowing cheeks, that the young man felt a bound of love and tenderveneration 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 thepresent one, except a young lady's quick glances, of which he endeavoredto have no knowledge. Faith Darling, a gentle and beautiful youngwoman, had taken a natural liking to him, because of his troubles, andsimplicity, 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 wasclearly a gentleman, to her judgment he was not an accomplished, oreven a clever one. His inborn modesty and shyness placed him at greatdisadvantage, until well known; and the simple truth of his natureforbade any of the large talk and bold utterance which pleased her asyet among young officers.

  "What a plague he will be all day tomorrow!" she said to her sister inthe drawing-room. "Father was obliged, I suppose, to invite him; butwhat 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 scarcelygot two ideas of his own, and is afraid to say 'bo' to a goose, I dobelieve. Did you hear what he said when I asked him whether he was fondof 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 heshould fall off now."

  "I should like to see him. I tell you what we'll do. We will make himride back on Monday morning, and put him on 'Blue Bangles,' who won'thave seen daylight since Friday. Won't he jump about a bit! What a shameit is, not to let us ride on Sundays!"

  Ignorant of these kind intentions, Scudamore was enjoying himself inhis quiet, observant way. Mr. Twemlow, the rector of the parish, hadchanced--as he often chanced on a Saturday, after buckling up a braceof sermons--to issue his mind (with his body outside it) for a littlerelief of neighbourhood. And these little airings of his chasteninglove--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 portwhich is the true haven for an ancient Admiral.

  "Just in time, Rector," cried Admiral Darling, who had added by manya hardship to his inborn hospitality. "This is my young friend BlythScudamore, the son of one of my oldest friends. You have heard of SirEdmond Scudamore?"

  "And seen him and felt him. And to him I owe, under a mercifulProvidence, the power of drinking in this fine port the health of hisson, which I do with deep pleasure, for the excellence both of end andmeans."

  The old man bowed at the praise of his wine, and the young one at thatof his father. Then, after the usual pinch of snuff from the Rector'slong gold box, the host returned to the subject he had been full ofbefore this interruption.

  "The question we have in hand is this. What is to be done with ourfriend Blyth? He was getting on famously, till this vile peace came.Twemlow, you called it that yourself, so that argument about words isuseless. Blyth's lieutenancy was on the books, and the way they carrythings on now, and shoot poor fellows' heads off, he might have beena post-captain in a twelvemonth. And now there seems nothing on earthbefore 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 toogood to be a clergyman."

  "And so you are, and Heaven kn
ows it, Blyth, unless there was a chanceof getting on by goodness, which there is in the Navy, but not in theChurch. Twemlow, what is your opinion?"

  "It would not be modest in me," said the Rector, "to stand up too muchfor 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 shotand shell, and being fit for another world, you keep out of it. Have youever heard me tell the story about Gunner MacCrab, of the Bellerophon?"

  "Fifty times, and more than that," replied the sturdy parson, who likedto make a little cut at the Church sometimes, but would not allow anyother hand to do it. "But now about our young friend here. Surely, withall that we know by this time of the character of that Bony, we can seethat this peace is a mere trick of his to bamboozle us while he getsready. In six months we shall be at war again, hammer and tongs, as sureas my name is Twemlow."

  "So be it!" cried the Admiral, with a stamp on his oak floor, whileScudamore's gentle eyes flashed and fell; "if it is the will of God, sobe it. But if it once begins again, God alone knows where France will bebefore 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 ourenergy and endurance. But what are they? A gang of slaves, rammed intothe cannon by a Despot."

  "They seem to like it, and the question is for them. But the strugglewill be desperate, mountains of carnage, oceans of blood, universalmourning, lamentation, and woe. And I have had enough trouble with mytithes 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 andgood management. It encourages the best men of the day, and it bringsout the difference between right and wrong, which are quite smothered upin peace time. It keeps out a quantity of foreign rubbish and stuff onlymade to be looked at, and it makes people trust one another, and knowwhat country they belong to, and feel how much they have left to bethankful for. And what is the use of a noble fleet, unless it can getsome fighting? Blyth, what say you? You know something about that."

  "No, sir, I have never been at close quarters yet. And I doubt--or atleast I am certain that I should not like it. I am afraid that I shouldwant to run down below."

  Mr. Twemlow, having never smelled hostile powder, gazed at him ratherloftily, while the young man blushed at his own truth, yet looked upbravely 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 washalf-witted--who could fetch up muzzle to muzzle without a feeling ofthat sort. The true courage lies in resisting the impulse, more thanbeing free from it. I know that I was in a precious fright the firsttime I was shot at, even at a decent distance; and I don't pretend tolike it even now. But I am pretty safe now from any further chance, Ifear. When we cut our wisdom-teeth, they shelf us. Twemlow, how muchwiser you are in the Church! The older a man gets, the higher theypromote him."

  "Then let them begin with me," the Rector answered, smiling; "I am oldenough now for almost anything, and the only promotion I get is stiffjoints, 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, Springhavenloves me, and we chasten one another."

  "A man who knows all the Latin you know, Rector--for I own that you beatme 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 pushedas you should do; and you let it all off in quotations. Those are verycomforting to the mind, but I never knew a man do good with them, unlessthey come out of the Bible. When Gunner Matthew of the Erigdoupos waswaiting to have his leg off, with no prospect before him--except abetter world--you know what our Chaplain said to him; and the effectupon 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 shootshalf your pheasants with his wooden leg by moonlight. What your Chaplainsaid 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 theAdmiral was laughing to himself at this old tale, which he wouldnot produce before young Scudamore, but loved to have out with theRector--"and I hope it will be a good warning to you, Squire, tosettle no more old gunners on your property. You must understand, Mr.Scudamore, that the Admiral makes a sort of Naval Hospital, for all hisold 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 thecountry, 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 friendknows it as well as I do, and is one of the first to lend a helpinghand. In all such cases he does more than I do, whenever they comewithin his knowledge. But let us return to the matter in hand. Here isa young man, a first-rate sailor, who would have been under myguardianship, I know, but for--but for sad circumstances. Is he to begrinding at Virgil and Ovid till all his spirit goes out of him, becausewe have patched up a very shabby peace? It can never last long. EveryEnglishman 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 longerwill this wretched compact hold? You have predicted the course of thingsbefore."

  "And so I will again," replied the Rector. "Atheism, mockery, cynicism,blasphemy, lust, and blood-thirstyness cannot rage and raven withina few leagues of a godly and just nation without stinking in theirnostrils. Sir, it is our mission from the Lord to quench Bony, andto conquer the bullies of Europe. We don't look like doing it now, Iconfess. But do it we shall, in the end, as sure as the name of ourcountry is England."

  "I have no doubt of it," said the Admiral, simply; "but there will be adeal of fighting betwixt this and then. Blyth, will you leave me to seewhat I can do, whenever we get to work again?"

  "I should think that I would, sir, and never forget it. I am not fond offighting; but how I have longed to feel myself afloat again!"