CHAPTER II
HOW AMYAS CAME HOME THE FIRST TIME
"Si taceant homines, facient te sidera notum, Sol nescit comitis immemor esse sui."
Old Epigram on Drake.
Five years are past and gone. It is nine of the clock on a still, brightNovember morning; but the bells of Bideford church are still ringing forthe daily service two hours after the usual time; and instead of goingsoberly according to wont, cannot help breaking forth every five minutesinto a jocund peal, and tumbling head over heels in ecstasies of joy.Bideford streets are a very flower-garden of all the colors, swarmingwith seamen and burghers, and burghers' wives and daughters, allin their holiday attire. Garlands are hung across the streets, andtapestries from every window. The ships in the pool are dressed in alltheir flags, and give tumultuous vent to their feelings by peals ofordnance of every size. Every stable is crammed with horses; andSir Richard Grenville's house is like a very tavern, with eatingand drinking, and unsaddling, and running to and fro of grooms andserving-men. Along the little churchyard, packed full with women,streams all the gentle blood of North Devon,--tall and stately men, andfair ladies, worthy of the days when the gentry of England were by dueright the leaders of the people, by personal prowess and beauty, as wellas by intellect and education. And first, there is my lady Countess ofBath, whom Sir Richard Grenville is escorting, cap in hand (for her goodEarl Bourchier is in London with the queen); and there are Bassetsfrom beautiful Umberleigh, and Carys from more beautiful Clovelly, andFortescues of Wear, and Fortescues of Buckland, and Fortescues from allquarters, and Coles from Slade, and Stukelys from Affton, and St. Legersfrom Annery, and Coffins from Portledge, and even Coplestones fromEggesford, thirty miles away: and last, but not least (for almost allstop to give them place), Sir John Chichester of Ralegh, followedin single file, after the good old patriarchal fashion, by his eightdaughters, and three of his five famous sons (one, to avenge hismurdered brother, is fighting valiantly in Ireland, hereafter to rulethere wisely also, as Lord Deputy and Baron of Belfast); and he meetsat the gate his cousin of Arlington, and behind him a train of fourdaughters and nineteen sons, the last of whom has not yet passed thetown-hall, while the first is at the Lychgate, who, laughing, make wayfor the elder though shorter branch of that most fruitful tree; and soon into the church, where all are placed according to their degrees, orat least as near as may be, not without a few sour looks, and shovings,and whisperings, from one high-born matron and another; till thechurchwardens and sidesmen, who never had before so goodly a company toarrange, have bustled themselves hot, and red, and frantic, and end byimploring abjectly the help of the great Sir Richard himself to tellthem who everybody is, and which is the elder branch, and which is theyounger, and who carries eight quarterings in their arms, and who onlyfour, and so prevent their setting at deadly feud half the fineladies of North Devon; for the old men are all safe packed away in thecorporation pews, and the young ones care only to get a place whencethey may eye the ladies. And at last there is a silence, and a lookingtoward the door, and then distant music, flutes and hautboys, drums andtrumpets, which come braying, and screaming, and thundering merrilyup to the very church doors, and then cease; and the churchwardensand sidesmen bustle down to the entrance, rods in hand, and there is ageneral whisper and rustle, not without glad tears and blessings frommany a woman, and from some men also, as the wonder of the day enters,and the rector begins, not the morning service, but the good oldthanksgiving after a victory at sea.
And what is it which has thus sent old Bideford wild with that "goodlyjoy and pious mirth," of which we now only retain traditions inour translation of the Psalms? Why are all eyes fixed, with greedyadmiration, on those four weather-beaten mariners, decked out with knotsand ribbons by loving hands; and yet more on that gigantic figure whowalks before them, a beardless boy, and yet with the frame and statureof a Hercules, towering, like Saul of old, a head and shoulders aboveall the congregation, with his golden locks flowing down over hisshoulders? And why, as the five go instinctively up to the altar, andthere fall on their knees before the rails, are all eyes turned to thepew where Mrs. Leigh of Burrough has hid her face between her hands,and her hood rustles and shakes to her joyful sobs? Because there wasfellow-feeling of old in merry England, in county and in town; andthese are Devon men, and men of Bideford, whose names are Amyas Leigh ofBurrough, John Staveley, Michael Heard, and Jonas Marshall of Bideford,and Thomas Braund of Clovelly: and they, the first of all Englishmariners, have sailed round the world with Francis Drake, and are comehither to give God thanks.
It is a long story. To explain how it happened we must go back for apage or two, almost to the point from whence we started in the lastchapter.
For somewhat more than a twelvemonth after Mr. Oxenham's departure,young Amyas had gone on quietly enough, according to promise, with theexception of certain occasional outbursts of fierceness common to allyoung male animals, and especially to boys of any strength of character.His scholarship, indeed, progressed no better than before; but his homeeducation went on healthily enough; and he was fast becoming, young ashe was, a right good archer, and rider, and swordsman (after the oldschool of buckler practice), when his father, having gone down onbusiness to the Exeter Assizes, caught (as was too common in those days)the gaol-fever from the prisoners; sickened in the very court; and diedwithin a week.
And now Mrs. Leigh was left to God and her own soul, with this younglion-cub in leash, to tame and train for this life and the life tocome. She had loved her husband fervently and holily. He had been oftenpeevish, often melancholy; for he was a disappointed man, with an estateimpoverished by his father's folly, and his own youthful ambition, whichhad led him up to Court, and made him waste his heart and his purse infollowing a vain shadow. He was one of those men, moreover, who possessalmost every gift except the gift of the power to use them; and thougha scholar, a courtier, and a soldier, he had found himself, when he waspast forty, without settled employment or aim in life, by reason ofa certain shyness, pride, or delicate honor (call it which you will),which had always kept him from playing a winning game in that very worldafter whose prizes he hankered to the last, and on which he revengedhimself by continual grumbling. At last, by his good luck, he met witha fair young Miss Foljambe, of Derbyshire, then about Queen Elizabeth'sCourt, who was as tired as he of the sins of the world, though she hadseen less of them; and the two contrived to please each other so well,that though the queen grumbled a little, as usual, at the lady formarrying, and at the gentleman for adoring any one but her royal self,they got leave to vanish from the little Babylon at Whitehall, andsettle in peace at Burrough. In her he found a treasure, and he knewwhat he had found.
Mrs. Leigh was, and had been from her youth, one of those noble oldEnglish churchwomen, without superstition, and without severity, whoare among the fairest features of that heroic time. There was a certainmelancholy about her, nevertheless; for the recollections of herchildhood carried her back to times when it was an awful thing to be aProtestant. She could remember among them, five-and-twenty years ago,the burning of poor blind Joan Waste at Derby, and of Mistress JoyceLewis, too, like herself, a lady born; and sometimes even now, in hernightly dreams, rang in her ears her mother's bitter cries to God,either to spare her that fiery torment, or to give her strength to bearit, as she whom she loved had borne it before her. For her mother, whowas of a good family in Yorkshire, had been one of Queen Catherine'sbedchamber women, and the bosom friend and disciple of Anne Askew. Andshe had sat in Smithfield, with blood curdled by horror, to see thehapless Court beauty, a month before the paragon of Henry's Court,carried in a chair (so crippled was she by the rack) to her fiery doomat the stake, beside her fellow-courtier, Mr. Lascelles, while the veryheavens seemed to the shuddering mob around to speak their wrath andgrief in solemn thunder peals, and heavy drops which hissed upon thecrackling pile.
Therefore a sadness hung upon her all her life, and deepened in the daysof Queen Mary, w
hen, as a notorious Protestant and heretic, she had hadto hide for her life among the hills and caverns of the Peak, and wasonly saved, by the love which her husband's tenants bore her, and by hisbold declaration that, good Catholic as he was, he would run throughthe body any constable, justice, or priest, yea, bishop or cardinal, whodared to serve the queen's warrant upon his wife.
So she escaped: but, as I said, a sadness hung upon her all her life;and the skirt of that dark mantle fell upon the young girl who had beenthe partner of her wanderings and hidings among the lonely hills; andwho, after she was married, gave herself utterly up to God.
And yet in giving herself to God, Mrs. Leigh gave herself to herhusband, her children, and the poor of Northam Town, and was none theless welcome to the Grenvilles, and Fortescues, and Chichesters, andall the gentle families round, who honored her husband's talents, andenjoyed his wit. She accustomed herself to austerities, which oftencalled forth the kindly rebukes of her husband; and yet she did sowithout one superstitious thought of appeasing the fancied wrath of God,or of giving Him pleasure (base thought) by any pain of hers; for herspirit had been trained in the freest and loftiest doctrines of Luther'sschool; and that little mystic "Alt-Deutsch Theologie" (to which thegreat Reformer said that he owed more than to any book, save the Bible,and St. Augustine) was her counsellor and comforter by day and night.
And now, at little past forty, she was left a widow: lovely stillin face and figure; and still more lovely from the divine calm whichbrooded, like the dove of peace and the Holy Spirit of God (which indeedit was), over every look, and word, and gesture; a sweetness which hadbeen ripened by storm, as well as by sunshine; which this world hadnot given, and could not take away. No wonder that Sir Richard and LadyGrenville loved her; no wonder that her children worshipped her; nowonder that the young Amyas, when the first burst of grief was over, andhe knew again where he stood, felt that a new life had begun for him;that his mother was no more to think and act for him only, but that hemust think and act for his mother. And so it was, that on the very dayafter his father's funeral, when school-hours were over, instead ofcoming straight home, he walked boldly into Sir Richard Grenville'shouse, and asked to see his godfather.
"You must be my father now, sir," said he, firmly.
And Sir Richard looked at the boy's broad strong face, and swore a greatand holy oath, like Glasgerion's, "by oak, and ash, and thorn," thathe would be a father to him, and a brother to his mother, for Christ'ssake. And Lady Grenville took the boy by the hand, and walked homewith him to Burrough; and there the two fair women fell on each other'snecks, and wept together; the one for the loss which had been, theother, as by a prophetic instinct, for the like loss which was to cometo her also. For the sweet St. Leger knew well that her husband's fieryspirit would never leave his body on a peaceful bed; but that death (ashe prayed almost nightly that it might) would find him sword inhand, upon the field of duty and of fame. And there those two vowedeverlasting sisterhood, and kept their vow; and after that all thingswent on at Burrough as before; and Amyas rode, and shot, and boxed, andwandered on the quay at Sir Richard's side; for Mrs. Leigh was toowise a woman to alter one tittle of the training which her husband hadthought best for his younger boy. It was enough that her elder son hadof his own accord taken to that form of life in which she in her secretheart would fain have moulded both her children. For Frank, God'swedding gift to that pure love of hers, had won himself honor at homeand abroad; first at the school at Bideford; then at Exeter College,where he had become a friend of Sir Philip Sidney's, and many anotheryoung man of rank and promise; and next, in the summer of 1572, on hisway to the University of Heidelberg, he had gone to Paris, with (luckilyfor him) letters of recommendation to Walsingham, at the EnglishEmbassy: by which letters he not only fell in a second time with PhilipSidney, but saved his own life (as Sidney did his) in the Massacre ofSt. Bartholomew's Day. At Heidelberg he had stayed two years, winningfresh honor from all who knew him, and resisting all Sidney's entreatiesto follow him into Italy. For, scorning to be a burden to his parents,he had become at Heidelberg tutor to two young German princes, whom,after living with them at their father's house for a year or more, he atlast, to his own great delight, took with him down to Padua, "toperfect them," as he wrote home, "according to his insufficiency, in allprincely studies." Sidney was now returned to England; but Frank foundfriends enough without him, such letters of recommendation and diplomasdid he carry from I know not how many princes, magnificos, and learneddoctors, who had fallen in love with the learning, modesty, and virtueof the fair young Englishman. And ere Frank returned to Germany he hadsatiated his soul with all the wonders of that wondrous land. He hadtalked over the art of sonneteering with Tasso, the art of historywith Sarpi; he had listened, between awe and incredulity, to the daringtheories of Galileo; he had taken his pupils to Venice, that theirportraits might be painted by Paul Veronese; he had seen the palaces ofPalladio, and the merchant princes on the Rialto, and the argosies ofRagusa, and all the wonders of that meeting-point of east and west; hehad watched Tintoretto's mighty hand "hurling tempestuous glories o'erthe scene;" and even, by dint of private intercession in high places,had been admitted to that sacred room where, with long silver beard andundimmed eye, amid a pantheon of his own creations, the ancient Titian,patriarch of art, still lingered upon earth, and told old tales of theBellinis, and Raffaelle, and Michael Angelo, and the building of St.Peter's, and the fire at Venice, and the sack of Rome, and of kings andwarriors, statesmen and poets, long since gone to their account, andshowed the sacred brush which Francis the First had stooped to pick upfor him. And (license forbidden to Sidney by his friend Languet) he hadbeen to Rome, and seen (much to the scandal of good Protestants at home)that "right good fellow," as Sidney calls him, who had not yet eatenhimself to death, the Pope for the time being. And he had seen thefrescos of the Vatican, and heard Palestrina preside as chapel-masterover the performance of his own music beneath the dome of St. Peter's,and fallen half in love with those luscious strains, till he wasawakened from his dream by the recollection that beneath that same domehad gone up thanksgivings to the God of heaven for those blood-stainedstreets, and shrieking women, and heaps of insulted corpses, which hehad beheld in Paris on the night of St. Bartholomew. At last, a fewmonths before his father died, he had taken back his pupils to theirhome in Germany, from whence he was dismissed, as he wrote, with richgifts; and then Mrs. Leigh's heart beat high, at the thought that thewanderer would return: but, alas! within a month after his father'sdeath, came a long letter from Frank, describing the Alps, and thevalleys of the Waldenses (with whose Barbes he had had much talk aboutthe late horrible persecutions), and setting forth how at Padua he hadmade the acquaintance of that illustrious scholar and light of the age,Stephanus Parmenius (commonly called from his native place, Budaeus),who had visited Geneva with him, and heard the disputations of theirmost learned doctors, which both he and Budaeus disliked for their hardjudgments both of God and man, as much as they admired them for theirsubtlety, being themselves, as became Italian students, Platonists ofthe school of Ficinus and Picus Mirandolensis. So wrote Master Frank,in a long sententious letter, full of Latin quotations: but the letternever reached the eyes of him for whose delight it had been penned: andthe widow had to weep over it alone, and to weep more bitterly than everat the conclusion, in which, with many excuses, Frank said that he had,at the special entreaty of the said Budaeus, set out with him down theDanube stream to Buda, that he might, before finishing his travels,make experience of that learning for which the Hungarians were famousthroughout Europe. And after that, though he wrote again and again tothe father whom he fancied living, no letter in return reached him fromhome for nearly two years; till, fearing some mishap, he hurried back toEngland, to find his mother a widow, and his brother Amyas gone to theSouth Seas with Captain Drake of Plymouth. And yet, even then, afteryears of absence, he was not allowed to remain at home. For Sir Richard,to whom idleness was a thing horrible and unrighteous, would have him
upand doing again before six months were over, and sent him off to Courtto Lord Hunsdon.
There, being as delicately beautiful as his brother was huge and strong,he had speedily, by Carew's interest and that of Sidney and his UncleLeicester, found entrance into some office in the queen's household; andhe was now basking in the full sunshine of Court favor, and fair ladies'eyes, and all the chivalries and euphuisms of Gloriana's fairyland, andthe fast friendship of that bright meteor Sidney, who had returned withhonor in 1577, from the delicate mission on behalf of the German andBelgian Protestants, on which he had been sent to the Court of Vienna,under color of condoling with the new Emperor Rodolph on his father'sdeath. Frank found him when he himself came to Court in 1579 as lovelyand loving as ever; and, at the early age of twenty-five, acknowledgedas one of the most remarkable men of Europe, the patron of all men ofletters, the counsellor of warriors and statesmen, and the confidant andadvocate of William of Orange, Languet, Plessis du Mornay, and all theProtestant leaders on the Continent; and found, moreover, that the sonof the poor Devon squire was as welcome as ever to the friendship ofnature's and fortune's most favored, yet most unspoilt, minion.
Poor Mrs. Leigh, as one who had long since learned to have no self,and to live not only for her children but in them, submitted without amurmur, and only said, smiling, to her stern friend--"You took away mymastiff-pup, and now you must needs have my fair greyhound also."
"Would you have your fair greyhound, dear lady, grow up a tall andtrue Cotswold dog, that can pull down a stag of ten, or one of thosesmooth-skinned poppets which the Florence ladies lead about with a ringof bells round its neck, and a flannel farthingale over its loins?"
Mrs. Leigh submitted; and was rewarded after a few months by a letter,sent through Sir Richard, from none other than Gloriana herself, inwhich she thanked her for "the loan of that most delicate and flawlesscrystal, the soul of her excellent son," with more praises of him than Ihave room to insert, and finished by exalting the poor mother above thefamed Cornelia; "for those sons, whom she called her jewels, sheonly showed, yet kept them to herself: but you, madam, having two asprecious, I doubt not, as were ever that Roman dame's, have, beyond hercourage, lent them both to your country and to your queen, who thereinholds herself indebted to you for that which, if God give her grace, shewill repay as becomes both her and you." Which epistle the sweet motherbedewed with holy tears, and laid by in the cedar-box which held herhousehold gods, by the side of Frank's innumerable diplomas and lettersof recommendation, the Latin whereof she was always spelling over(although she understood not a word of it), in hopes of finding, hereand there, that precious excellentissimus Noster Franciscus LeighiusAnglus, which was all in all to the mother's heart.
But why did Amyas go to the South Seas? Amyas went to the South Seas fortwo causes, each of which has, before now, sent many a lad to far worseplaces: first, because of an old schoolmaster; secondly, because of ayoung beauty. I will take them in order and explain.
Vindex Brimblecombe, whilom servitor of Exeter College, Oxford (commonlycalled Sir Vindex, after the fashion of the times), was, in those days,master of the grammar-school of Bideford. He was, at root, a godly andkind-hearted pedant enough; but, like most schoolmasters in the oldflogging days, had his heart pretty well hardened by long, banefullicense to inflict pain at will on those weaker than himself; a powerhealthful enough for the victim (for, doubtless, flogging is the best ofall punishments, being not only the shortest, but also a mere bodily andanimal, and not, like most of our new-fangled "humane" punishments, aspiritual and fiendish torture), but for the executioner pretty certainto eradicate, from all but the noblest spirits, every trace of chivalryand tenderness for the weak, as well, often, as all self-control andcommand of temper. Be that as it may, old Sir Vindex had heart enoughto feel that it was now his duty to take especial care of the fatherlessboy to whom he tried to teach his qui, quae, quod: but the only outcomeof that new sense of responsibility was a rapid increase in the numberof floggings, which rose from about two a week to one per diem, notwithout consequences to the pedagogue himself.
For all this while, Amyas had never for a moment lost sight of hisdarling desire for a sea-life; and when he could not wander on the quayand stare at the shipping, or go down to the pebble-ridge at Northam,and there sit, devouring, with hungry eyes, the great expanse of ocean,which seemed to woo him outward into boundless space, he used to consolehimself, in school-hours, by drawing ships and imaginary charts upon hisslate, instead of minding his "humanities."
Now it befell, upon an afternoon, that he was very busy at a map, orbird's-eye view of an island, whereon was a great castle, and at thegate thereof a dragon, terrible to see; while in the foreground camethat which was meant for a gallant ship, with a great flag aloft, butwhich, by reason of the forest of lances with which it was crowded,looked much more like a porcupine carrying a sign-post; and, at theroots of those lances, many little round o's, whereby was signifiedthe heads of Amyas and his schoolfellows, who were about to slay thatdragon, and rescue the beautiful princess who dwelt in that enchantedtower. To behold which marvel of art, all the other boys at the samedesk must needs club their heads together, and with the more security,because Sir Vindex, as was his custom after dinner, was lying back inhis chair, and slept the sleep of the just.
But when Amyas, by special instigation of the evil spirit who hauntssuccessful artists, proceeded further to introduce, heedless ofperspective, a rock, on which stood the lively portraiture of SirVindex--nose, spectacles, gown, and all; and in his hand a brandishedrod, while out of his mouth a label shrieked after the runaways,"You come back!" while a similar label replied from the gallant bark,"Good-bye, master!" the shoving and tittering rose to such a pitch thatCerberus awoke, and demanded sternly what the noise was about. To which,of course, there was no answer.
"You, of course, Leigh! Come up, sir, and show me your exercitation."
Now of Amyas's exercitation not a word was written; and, moreover,he was in the very article of putting the last touches to Mr.Brimblecombe's portrait. Whereon, to the astonishment of all hearers, hemade answer--
"All in good time, sir!" and went on drawing.
"In good time, sir! Insolent, veni et vapula!"
But Amyas went on drawing.
"Come hither, sirrah, or I'll flay you alive!"
"Wait a bit!" answered Amyas.
The old gentleman jumped up, ferula in hand, and darted across theschool, and saw himself upon the fatal slate.
"Proh flagitium! what have we here, villain?" and clutching at hisvictim, he raised the cane. Whereupon, with a serene and cheerfulcountenance, up rose the mighty form of Amyas Leigh, a head andshoulders above his tormentor, and that slate descended on the baldcoxcomb of Sir Vindex Brimblecombe, with so shrewd a blow that slate andpate cracked at the same instant, and the poor pedagogue dropped to thefloor, and lay for dead.
After which Amyas arose, and walked out of the school, and so quietlyhome; and having taken counsel with himself, went to his mother, andsaid, "Please, mother, I've broken schoolmaster's head."
"Broken his head, thou wicked boy!" shrieked the poor widow; "what didstdo that for?"
"I can't tell," said Amyas, penitently; "I couldn't help it. It lookedso smooth, and bald, and round, and--you know?"
"I know? Oh, wicked boy! thou hast given place to the devil; and now,perhaps, thou hast killed him."
"Killed the devil?" asked Amyas, hopefully but doubtfully.
"No, killed the schoolmaster, sirrah! Is he dead?"
"I don't think he's dead; his coxcomb sounded too hard for that. But hadnot I better go and tell Sir Richard?"
The poor mother could hardly help laughing, in spite of her terror,at Amyas's perfect coolness (which was not in the least meant forinsolence), and being at her wits' end, sent him, as usual, to hisgodfather.
Amyas rehearsed his story again, with pretty nearly the sameexclamations, to which he gave pretty nearly the same answers; andthen--"What was he going to do
to you, then, sirrah?"
"Flog me, because I could not write my exercise, and so drew a pictureof him instead."
"What! art afraid of being flogged?"
"Not a bit; besides, I'm too much accustomed to it; but I was busy, andhe was in such a desperate hurry; and, oh, sir, if you had but seen hisbald head, you would have broken it yourself!"
Now Sir Richard had, twenty years ago, in like place, and very muchin like manner, broken the head of Vindex Brimblecombe's father,schoolmaster in his day, and therefore had a precedent to direct him;and he answered--"Amyas, sirrah! those who cannot obey will never be fitto rule. If thou canst not keep discipline now, thou wilt never make acompany or a crew keep it when thou art grown. Dost mind that, sirrah?"
"Yes," said Amyas.
"Then go back to school this moment, sir, and be flogged."
"Very well," said Amyas, considering that he had got off very cheaply;while Sir Richard, as soon as he was out of the room, lay back in hischair, and laughed till he cried again.
So Amyas went back, and said that he was come to be flogged; whereon theold schoolmaster, whose pate had been plastered meanwhile, wept tears ofjoy over the returning prodigal, and then gave him such a switching ashe did not forget for eight-and-forty hours.
But that evening Sir Richard sent for old Vindex, who entered,trembling, cap in hand; and having primed him with a cup of sack,said--"Well, Mr. Schoolmaster! My godson has been somewhat too much foryou to-day. There are a couple of nobles to pay the doctor."
"O Sir Richard, gratias tibi et Domino! but the boy hits shrewdlyhard. Nevertheless I have repaid him in inverse kind, and set him animposition, to learn me one of Phaedrus his fables, Sir Richard, if youdo not think it too much."
"Which, then? The one about the man who brought up a lion's cub, and waseaten by him in play at last?"
"Ah, Sir Richard! you have always a merry wit. But, indeed, the boy is abrave boy, and a quick boy, Sir Richard, but more forgetful than Lethe;and--sapienti loquor--it were well if he were away, for I shall neversee him again without my head aching. Moreover, he put my son Jack uponthe fire last Wednesday, as you would put a football, though he is ayear older, your worship, because, he said, he looked so like a roastingpig, Sir Richard."
"Alas, poor Jack!"
"And what's more, your worship, he is pugnax, bellicosus, gladiator,a fire-eater and swash-buckler, beyond all Christian measure; avery sucking Entellus, Sir Richard, and will do to death some of hermajesty's lieges erelong, if he be not wisely curbed. It was but a monthagone that he bemoaned himself, I hear, as Alexander did, because therewere no more worlds to conquer, saying that it was a pity he was sostrong; for, now he had thrashed all the Bideford lads, he had no sportleft; and so, as my Jack tells me, last Tuesday week he fell upon ayoung man of Barnstaple, Sir Richard, a hosier's man, sir, and plebeius(which I consider unfit for one of his blood), and, moreover, a man fullgrown, and as big as either of us (Vindex stood five feet four in hishigh-heeled shoes), and smote him clean over the quay into the mud,because he said that there was a prettier maid in Barnstaple (yourworship will forgive my speaking of such toys, to which my fidelitycompels me) than ever Bideford could show; and then offered to do thesame to any man who dare say that Mistress Rose Salterne, his worshipthe mayor's daughter, was not the fairest lass in all Devon."
"Eh? Say that over again, my good sir," quoth Sir Richard, who had thusarrived, as we have seen, at the second count of the indictment. "I say,good sir, whence dost thou hear all these pretty stories?"
"My son Jack, Sir Richard, my son Jack, ingenui vultus puer."
"But not, it seems, ingenui pudoris. Tell thee what, Mr. Schoolmaster,no wonder if thy son gets put on the fire, if thou employ him as atale-bearer. But that is the way of all pedagogues and their sons,by which they train the lads up eavesdroppers and favor-curriers, andprepare them--sirrah, do you hear?--for a much more lasting and hotterfire than that which has scorched thy son Jack's nether-tackle. Do youmark me, sir?"
The poor pedagogue, thus cunningly caught in his own trap, stoodtrembling before his patron, who, as hereditary head of the BridgeTrust, which endowed the school and the rest of the Bideford charities,could, by a turn of his finger, sweep him forth with the besomof destruction; and he gasped with terror as Sir Richard wenton--"Therefore, mind you, Sir Schoolmaster, unless you shall promise menever to hint word of what has passed between us two, and that neitheryou nor yours shall henceforth carry tales of my godson, or speak hisname within a day's march of Mistress Salterne's, look to it, if I donot--"
What was to be done in default was not spoken; for down went poor oldVindex on his knees:--
"Oh, Sir Richard! Excellentissime, immo praecelsissime Domine etSenator, I promise! O sir, Miles et Eques of the Garter, Bath, andGolden Fleece, consider your dignities, and my old age--and my greatfamily--nine children--oh, Sir Richard, and eight of them girls!--Doeagles war with mice? says the ancient!"
"Thy large family, eh? How old is that fat-witted son of thine?"
"Sixteen, Sir Richard; but that is not his fault, indeed!"
"Nay, I suppose he would be still sucking his thumb if he dared--get up,man--get up and seat yourself."
"Heaven forbid!" murmured poor Vindex, with deep humility.
"Why is not the rogue at Oxford, with a murrain on him, instead oflurching about here carrying tales and ogling the maidens?"
"I had hoped, Sir Richard--and therefore I said it was not hisfault--but there was never a servitorship at Exeter open."
"Go to, man--go to! I will speak to my brethren of the Trust, and toOxford he shall go this autumn, or else to Exeter gaol, for a strongrogue, and a masterless man. Do you hear?"
"Hear?--oh, sir, yes! and return thanks. Jack shall go, Sir Richard,doubt it not--I were mad else; and, Sir Richard, may I go too?"
And therewith Vindex vanished, and Sir Richard enjoyed a second mightylaugh, which brought in Lady Grenville, who possibly had overheard thewhole; for the first words she said were--
"I think, my sweet life, we had better go up to Burrough."
So to Burrough they went; and after much talk, and many tears, matterswere so concluded that Amyas Leigh found himself riding joyfully towardsPlymouth, by the side of Sir Richard, and being handed over to CaptainDrake, vanished for three years from the good town of Bideford.
And now he is returned in triumph, and the observed of all observers;and looks round and round, and sees all faces whom he expects, exceptone; and that the one which he had rather see than his mother's? He isnot quite sure. Shame on himself!
And now the prayers being ended, the rector ascends the pulpit, andbegins his sermon on the text:--
"The heaven and the heaven of heavens are the Lord's; the whole earthhath he given to the children of men;" deducing therefrom craftily, tothe exceeding pleasure of his hearers, the iniquity of the Spaniardsin dispossessing the Indians, and in arrogating to themselves thesovereignty of the tropic seas; the vanity of the Pope of Rome inpretending to bestow on them the new countries of America; and thejustice, valor, and glory of Mr. Drake and his expedition, as testifiedby God's miraculous protection of him and his, both in the Straits ofMagellan, and in his battle with the Galleon; and last, but not least,upon the rock by Celebes, when the Pelican lay for hours firmly fixed,and was floated off unhurt, as it were by miracle, by a sudden shift ofwind.
Ay, smile, reader, if you will; and, perhaps, there was matter for asmile in that honest sermon, interlarded, as it was, with scraps ofGreek and Hebrew, which no one understood, but every one expected astheir right (for a preacher was nothing then who could not prove himself"a good Latiner"); and graced, moreover, by a somewhat pedantic andlengthy refutation from Scripture of Dan Horace's cockney horror of thesea--
"Illi robur et aes triplex," etc.
and his infidel and ungodly slander against the impias rates, and theircrews.
Smile, if you will: but those were days (and there were never lesssuperstitious ones) in which Eng
lishmen believed in the living God, andwere not ashamed to acknowledge, as a matter of course, His help andprovidence, and calling, in the matters of daily life, which we nowin our covert atheism term "secular and carnal;" and when, the sermonended, the communion service had begun, and the bread and the wine weregiven to those five mariners, every gallant gentleman who stood nearthem (for the press would not allow of more) knelt and received theelements with them as a thing of course, and then rose to join withheart and voice not merely in the Gloria in Excelsis, but in the TeDeum, which was the closing act of all. And no sooner had the clerkgiven out the first verse of that great hymn, than it was taken up byfive hundred voices within the church, in bass and tenor, treble andalto (for every one could sing in those days, and the west-country folk,as now, were fuller than any of music), the chant was caught up by thecrowd outside, and rang away over roof and river, up to the woods ofAnnery, and down to the marshes of the Taw, in wave on wave of harmony.And as it died away, the shipping in the river made answer with theirthunder, and the crowd streamed out again toward the Bridge Head,whither Sir Richard Grenville, and Sir John Chichester, and Mr.Salterne, the Mayor, led the five heroes of the day to await the pageantwhich had been prepared in honor of them. And as they went by, therewere few in the crowd who did not press forward to shake them by thehand, and not only them, but their parents and kinsfolk who walkedbehind, till Mrs. Leigh, her stately joy quite broken down at last,could only answer between her sobs, "Go along, good people--God a mercy,go along--and God send you all such sons!"
"God give me back mine!" cried an old red-cloaked dame in the crowd; andthen, struck by some hidden impulse, she sprang forward, and catchinghold of young Amyas's sleeve--
"Kind sir! dear sir! For Christ his sake answer a poor old widow woman!"
"What is it, dame?" quoth Amyas, gently enough.
"Did you see my son to the Indies?--my son Salvation?"
"Salvation?" replied he, with the air of one who recollected the name.
"Yes, sure, Salvation Yeo, of Clovelly. A tall man and black, andsweareth awfully in his talk, the Lord forgive him!"
Amyas recollected now. It was the name of the sailor who had given himthe wondrous horn five years ago.
"My good dame," said he, "the Indies are a very large place, and yourson may be safe and sound enough there, without my having seen him.I knew one Salvation Yeo. But he must have come with--By the by,godfather, has Mr. Oxenham come home?"
There was a dead silence for a moment among the gentlemen round; andthen Sir Richard said solemnly, and in a low voice, turning away fromthe old dame,--
"Amyas, Mr. Oxenham has not come home; and from the day he sailed, noword has been heard of him and all his crew."
"Oh, Sir Richard! and you kept me from sailing with him! Had I knownthis before I went into church, I had had one mercy more to thank Godfor."
"Thank Him all the more in thy life, my child!" whispered his mother.
"And no news of him whatsoever?"
"None; but that the year after he sailed, a ship belonging to AndrewBarker, of Bristol, took out of a Spanish caravel, somewhere off theHonduras, his two brass guns; but whence they came the Spaniard knewnot, having bought them at Nombre de Dios."
"Yes!" cried the old woman; "they brought home the guns, and neverbrought home my boy!"
"They never saw your boy, mother," said Sir Richard.
"But I've seen him! I saw him in a dream four years last Whitsuntide, asplain as I see you now, gentles, a-lying upon a rock, calling for a dropof water to cool his tongue, like Dives to the torment! Oh! dear me!"and the old dame wept bitterly.
"There is a rose noble for you!" said Mrs. Leigh.
"And there another!" said Sir Richard. And in a few minutes four or fivegold coins were in her hand. But the old dame did but look wonderinglyat the gold a moment, and then--
"Ah! dear gentles, God's blessing on you, and Mr. Cary's mighty good tome already; but gold won't buy back childer! O! young gentleman! younggentleman! make me a promise; if you want God's blessing on you thisday, bring me back my boy, if you find him sailing on the seas! Bringhim back, and an old widow's blessing be on you!"
Amyas promised--what else could he do?--and the group hurried on; butthe lad's heart was heavy in the midst of joy, with the thought of JohnOxenham, as he walked through the churchyard, and down the short streetwhich led between the ancient school and still more ancient town-house,to the head of the long bridge, across which the pageant, havingarranged "east-the-water," was to defile, and then turn to the rightalong the quay.
However, he was bound in all courtesy to turn his attention now to theshow which had been prepared in his honor, and which was really wellenough worth seeing and hearing. The English were, in those days, analtogether dramatic people; ready and able, as in Bideford that day, toextemporize a pageant, a masque, or any effort of the Thespian art shortof the regular drama. For they were, in the first place, even down tothe very poorest, a well-fed people, with fewer luxuries than we, butmore abundant necessaries; and while beef, ale, and good woollen clothescould be obtained in plenty, without overworking either body or soul,men had time to amuse themselves in something more intellectualthan mere toping in pot-houses. Moreover, the half century after theReformation in England was one not merely of new intellectual freedom,but of immense animal good spirits. After years of dumb confusion andcruel persecution, a breathing time had come: Mary and the fires ofSmithfield had vanished together like a hideous dream, and the mightyshout of joy which greeted Elizabeth's entry into London, was thekey-note of fifty glorious years; the expression of a new-found strengthand freedom, which vented itself at home in drama and in song; abroadin mighty conquests, achieved with the laughing recklessness of boys atplay.
So first, preceded by the waits, came along the bridge toward thetown-hall a device prepared by the good rector, who, standing by, actedas showman, and explained anxiously to the bystanders the import ofa certain "allegory" wherein on a great banner was depicted QueenElizabeth herself, who, in ample ruff and farthingale, a Bible in onehand and a sword in the other, stood triumphant upon the necks of twosufficiently abject personages, whose triple tiara and imperial crownproclaimed them the Pope and the King of Spain; while a label, issuingfrom her royal mouth, informed the world that--
"By land and sea a virgin queen I reign, And spurn to dust both Antichrist and Spain."
Which, having been received with due applause, a well-bedizened lad,having in his cap as a posy "Loyalty," stepped forward, and deliveredhimself of the following verses:--
"Oh, great Eliza! oh, world-famous crew! Which shall I hail more blest, your queen or you? While without other either falls to wrack, And light must eyes, or eyes their light must lack. She without you, a diamond sunk in mine, Its worth unprized, to self alone must shine; You without her, like hands bereft of head, Like Ajax rage, by blindfold lust misled. She light, you eyes; she head, and you the hands, In fair proportion knit by heavenly hands; Servants in queen, and queen in servants blest; Your only glory, how to serve her best; And hers how best the adventurous might to guide, Which knows no check of foemen, wind, or tide, So fair Eliza's spotless fame may fly Triumphant round the globe, and shake th' astounded sky!"
With which sufficiently bad verses Loyalty passed on, while my Lady Bathhinted to Sir Richard, not without reason, that the poet, in trying toexalt both parties, had very sufficiently snubbed both, and intimatedthat it was "hardly safe for country wits to attempt that euphuistic,antithetical, and delicately conceited vein, whose proper fountain wasin Whitehall." However, on went Loyalty, very well pleased with himself,and next, amid much cheering, two great tinsel fish, a salmon and atrout, symbolical of the wealth of Torridge, waddled along, by meansof two human legs and a staff apiece, which protruded from the fishes'stomachs. They drew (or seemed to draw, for half the 'prentices in thetown were shoving it behind, and cheering on the panting monarchs ofthe flood) a c
ar wherein sate, amid reeds and river-flags, three orfour pretty girls in robes of gray-blue spangled with gold, their headswreathed one with a crown of the sweet bog-myrtle, another with hopsand white convolvulus, the third with pale heather and golden fern. Theystopped opposite Amyas; and she of the myrtle wreath, rising and bowingto him and the company, began with a pretty blush to say her say:--
"Hither from my moorland home, Nymph of Torridge, proud I come; Leaving fen and furzy brake, Haunt of eft and spotted snake, Where to fill mine urns I use, Daily with Atlantic dews; While beside the reedy flood Wild duck leads her paddling brood. For this morn, as Phoebus gay Chased through heaven the night mist gray, Close beside me, prankt in pride, Sister Tamar rose, and cried, 'Sluggard, up! 'Tis holiday, In the lowlands far away. Hark! how jocund Plymouth bells, Wandering up through mazy dells, Call me down, with smiles to hail, My daring Drake's returning sail.' 'Thine alone?' I answer'd. 'Nay; Mine as well the joy to-day. Heroes train'd on Northern wave, To that Argo new I gave; Lent to thee, they roam'd the main; Give me, nymph, my sons again.' 'Go, they wait Thee,' Tamar cried, Southward bounding from my side. Glad I rose, and at my call, Came my Naiads, one and all. Nursling of the mountain sky, Leaving Dian's choir on high, Down her cataracts laughing loud, Ockment leapt from crag and cloud, Leading many a nymph, who dwells Where wild deer drink in ferny dells; While the Oreads as they past Peep'd from Druid Tors aghast. By alder copses sliding slow, Knee-deep in flowers came gentler Yeo And paused awhile her locks to twine With musky hops and white woodbine, Then joined the silver-footed band, Which circled down my golden sand, By dappled park, and harbor shady, Haunt of love-lorn knight and lady, My thrice-renowned sons to greet, With rustic song and pageant meet. For joy! the girdled robe around Eliza's name henceforth shall sound, Whose venturous fleets to conquest start, Where ended once the seaman's chart, While circling Sol his steps shall count Henceforth from Thule's western mount, And lead new rulers round the seas From furthest Cassiterides. For found is now the golden tree, Solv'd th' Atlantic mystery, Pluck'd the dragon-guarded fruit; While around the charmed root, Wailing loud, the Hesperids Watch their warder's drooping lids. Low he lies with grisly wound, While the sorceress triple-crown'd In her scarlet robe doth shield him, Till her cunning spells have heal'd him. Ye, meanwhile, around the earth Bear the prize of manful worth. Yet a nobler meed than gold Waits for Albion's children bold; Great Eliza's virgin hand Welcomes you to Fairy-land, While your native Naiads bring Native wreaths as offering. Simple though their show may be, Britain's worship in them see. 'Tis not price, nor outward fairness, Gives the victor's palm its rareness; Simplest tokens can impart Noble throb to noble heart: Graecia, prize thy parsley crown, Boast thy laurel, Caesar's town; Moorland myrtle still shall be Badge of Devon's Chivalry!"
And so ending, she took the wreath of fragrant gale from her own head,and stooping from the car, placed it on the head of Amyas Leigh, whomade answer--
"There is no place like home, my fair mistress and no scent to my tastelike this old home-scent in all the spice-islands that I ever sailedby!"
"Her song was not so bad," said Sir Richard to Lady Bath--"but how cameshe to hear Plymouth bells at Tamar-head, full fifty miles away? That'stoo much of a poet's license, is it not?"
"The river-nymphs, as daughters of Oceanus, and thus of immortalparentage, are bound to possess organs of more than mortal keenness;but, as you say, the song was not so bad--erudite, as well asprettily conceived--and, saving for a certain rustical simplicity andmonosyllabic baldness, smacks rather of the forests of Castaly thanthose of Torridge."
So spake my Lady Bath; whom Sir Richard wisely answered not; for she wasa terribly learned member of the college of critics, and disputed evenwith Sidney's sister the chieftaincy of the Euphuists; so Sir Richardanswered not, but answer was made for him.
"Since the whole choir of Muses, madam, have migrated to the Court ofWhitehall, no wonder if some dews of Parnassus should fertilize at timeseven our Devon moors."
The speaker was a tall and slim young man, some five-and-twenty yearsold, of so rare and delicate a beauty, that it seemed that some Greekstatue, or rather one of those pensive and pious knights whom the oldGerman artists took delight to paint, had condescended to tread awhilethis work-day earth in living flesh and blood. The forehead was verylofty and smooth, the eyebrows thin and greatly arched (the enviousgallants whispered that something at least of their curve was due toart, as was also the exceeding smoothness of those delicate cheeks).The face was somewhat long and thin; the nose aquiline; and the languidmouth showed, perhaps, too much of the ivory upper teeth; but themost striking point of the speaker's appearance was the extraordinarybrilliancy of his complexion, which shamed with its whiteness that ofall fair ladies round, save where open on each cheek a bright red spotgave warning, as did the long thin neck and the taper hands, of sadpossibilities, perhaps not far off; possibilities which all saw with aninward sigh, except she whose doting glances, as well as her resemblanceto the fair youth, proclaimed her at once his mother, Mrs. Leighherself.
Master Frank, for he it was, was dressed in the very extravagance ofthe fashion,--not so much from vanity, as from that delicate instinctof self-respect which would keep some men spruce and spotless from oneyear's end to another upon a desert island; "for," as Frank used to sayin his sententious way, "Mr. Frank Leigh at least beholds me, thoughnone else be by; and why should I be more discourteous to him thanI permit others to be? Be sure that he who is a Grobian in his owncompany, will, sooner or later, become a Grobian in that of hisfriends."
So Mr. Frank was arrayed spotlessly; but after the latest fashion ofMilan, not in trunk hose and slashed sleeves, nor in "French standingcollar, treble quadruple daedalian ruff, or stiff-necked rabato, thathad more arches for pride, propped up with wire and timber, than fiveLondon Bridges;" but in a close-fitting and perfectly plain suit ofdove-color, which set off cunningly the delicate proportions of hisfigure, and the delicate hue of his complexion, which was shaded fromthe sun by a broad dove-colored Spanish hat, with feather to match,looped up over the right ear with a pearl brooch, and therein a crownedE, supposed by the damsels of Bideford to stand for Elizabeth, whichwas whispered to be the gift of some most illustrious hand. This samelooping up was not without good reason and purpose prepense; thereby allthe world had full view of a beautiful little ear, which looked as ifit had been cut of cameo, and made, as my Lady Rich once told him, "tohearken only to the music of the spheres, or to the chants of cherubim."Behind the said ear was stuck a fresh rose; and the golden hair was alldrawn smoothly back and round to the left temple, whence, tied with apink ribbon in a great true lover's knot, a mighty love-lock, "curled asit had been laid in press," rolled down low upon his bosom. Oh, Frank!Frank! have you come out on purpose to break the hearts of all Bidefordburghers' daughters? And if so, did you expect to further that triumphby dyeing that pretty little pointed beard (with shame I report it) ofa bright vermilion? But we know you better, Frank, and so does yourmother; and you are but a masquerading angel after all, in spite ofyour knots and your perfumes, and the gold chain round your neck which aGerman princess gave you; and the emerald ring on your right fore-fingerwhich Hatton gave you; and the pair of perfumed gloves in your leftwhich Sidney's sister gave you; and the silver-hilted Toledo which anItalian marquis gave you on a certain occasion of which you never chooseto talk, like a prudent and modest gentleman as you are; but of whichthe gossips talk, of course, all the more, and whisper that you savedhis life from bravoes--a dozen, at the least; and had that sword foryour reward, and might have had his beautiful sister's hand beside, andI know not what else; but that you had so many lady-loves already thatyou were loath to burden yourself with a fresh one.
That, at least, weknow to be a lie, fair Frank; for your heart is as pure this day as whenyou knelt in your little crib at Burrough, and said--
"Four corners to my bed Four angels round my head; Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, Bless the bed that I lie on."
And who could doubt it (if being pure themselves, they have instinctivesympathy with what is pure), who ever looked into those great deep blueeyes of yours, "the black fringed curtains of whose azure lids,"usually down-dropt as if in deepest thought, you raise slowly, almostwonderingly each time you speak, as if awakening from some fair dreamwhose home is rather in your platonical "eternal world of supra-sensibleforms," than on that work-day earth wherein you nevertheless acquityourself so well? There--I must stop describing you, or I shall catchthe infection of your own euphuism, and talk of you as you would havetalked of Sidney or of Spenser, or of that Swan of Avon, whose songhad just begun when yours--but I will not anticipate; my Lady Bath iswaiting to give you her rejoinder.
"Ah, my silver-tongued scholar! and are you, then, the poet? or haveyou been drawing on the inexhaustible bank of your friend Raleigh, or mycousin Sidney? or has our new Cygnet Immerito lent you a few unpublishedleaves from some fresh Shepherd's Calendar?"
"Had either, madam, of that cynosural triad been within call of mymost humble importunities, your ears had been delectate with far noblermelody."
"But not our eyes with fairer faces, eh? Well, you have chosen yournymphs, and had good store from whence to pick, I doubt not. Fewyoung Dulcineas round but must have been glad to take service under sorenowned a captain?"
"The only difficulty, gracious countess, has been to know where to fixthe wandering choice of my bewildered eyes, where all alike are fair,and all alike facund."
"We understand," said she, smiling;--
"Dan Cupid, choosing 'midst his mother's graces, Himself more fair, made scorn of fairest faces."
The young scholar capped her distich forthwith, and bowing to her with ameaning look,
"'Then, Goddess, turn,' he cried, 'and veil thy light; Blinded by thine,what eyes can choose aright?'"
"Go, saucy sir," said my lady, in high glee: "the pageant stays yoursupreme pleasure."
And away went Mr. Frank as master of the revels, to bring up the'prentices' pageant; while, for his sake, the nymph of Torridge wasforgotten for awhile by all young dames, and most young gentlemen: andhis mother heaved a deep sigh, which Lady Bath overhearing--
"What? in the dumps, good madam, while all are rejoicing in your joy?Are you afraid that we court-dames shall turn your Adonis's brain forhim?"
"I do, indeed, fear lest your condescension should make him forget thathe is only a poor squire's orphan."
"I will warrant him never to forget aught that he should recollect,"said my Lady Bath.
And she spoke truly. But soon Frank's silver voice was heard callingout--
"Room there, good people, for the gallant 'prentice lads!"
And on they came, headed by a giant of buckram and pasteboard armor,forth of whose stomach looked, like a clock-face in a steeple, a humanvisage, to be greeted, as was the fashion then, by a volley of quips andpuns from high and low.
Young Mr. William Cary, of Clovelly, who was the wit of those parts,opened the fire by asking him whether he were Goliath, Gogmagog, orGrantorto in the romance; for giants' names always began with a G. Towhich the giant's stomach answered pretty surlily--
"Mine don't; I begin with an O."
"Then thou criest out before thou art hurt, O cowardly giant!"
"Let me out, lads," quoth the irascible visage, struggling in hisbuckram prison, "and I soon show him whether I be a coward."
"Nay, if thou gettest out of thyself, thou wouldst be beside thyself,and so wert but a mad giant."
"And that were pity," said Lady Bath; "for by the romances, giants havenever overmuch wit to spare."
"Mercy, dear lady!" said Frank, "and let the giant begin with an O."
"A ----"
"A false start, giant! you were to begin with an O."
"I'll make you end with an O, Mr. William Cary!" roared the testy towerof buckram.
"And so I do, for I end with 'Fico!'"
"Be mollified, sweet giant," said Frank, "and spare the rash youth ofyon foolish knight. Shall elephants catch flies, or Hurlo-Thrumbo stainhis club with brains of Dagonet the jester? Be mollified; leave thycaverned grumblings, like Etna when its windy wrath is past, anddiscourse eloquence from thy central omphalos, like Pythonessventriloquizing."
"If you do begin laughing at me too, Mr. Leigh ----" said the giant'sclock-face, in a piteous tone.
"I laugh not. Art thou not Ordulf the earl, and I thy humblest squire?Speak up, my lord; your cousin, my Lady Bath, commands you."
And at last the giant began:--
"A giant I, Earl Ordulf men me call,-- 'Gainst Paynim foes Devonia's champion tall; In single fight six thousand Turks I slew; Pull'd off a lion's head, and ate it too: With one shrewd blow, to let St. Edward in, I smote the gates of Exeter in twain; Till aged grown, by angels warn'd in dream, I built an abbey fair by Tavy stream. But treacherous time hath tripped my glories up, The stanch old hound must yield to stancher pup; Here's one so tall as I, and twice so bold, Where I took only cuffs, takes good red gold. From pole to pole resound his wondrous works, Who slew more Spaniards than I e'er slew Turks; I strode across the Tavy stream: but he Strode round the world and back; and here 'a be!"
"Oh, bathos!" said Lady Bath, while the 'prentices shouted applause. "Isthis hedge-bantling to be fathered on you, Mr. Frank?"
"It is necessary, by all laws of the drama, madam," said Frank, with asly smile, "that the speech and the speaker shall fit each other. Passon, Earl Ordulf; a more learned worthy waits."
Whereon, up came a fresh member of the procession; namely, no lessa person than Vindex Brimblecombe, the ancient schoolmaster, withfive-and-forty boys at his heels, who halting, pulled out hisspectacles, and thus signified his forgiveness of his whilom brokenhead:--
"That the world should have been circumnavigated, ladies and gentles,were matter enough of jubilation to the student of Herodotus and Plato,Plinius and ---- ahem! much more when the circumnavigators are Britons;more, again, when Damnonians."
"Don't swear, master," said young Will Cary.
"Gulielme Cary, Gulielme Cary, hast thou forgotten thy--"
"Whippings? Never, old lad! Go on; but let not the license of thescholar overtop the modesty of the Christian."
"More again, as I said, when, incolae, inhabitants of Devon; but,most of all, men of Bideford school. Oh renowned school! Oh schoolboysennobled by fellowship with him! Oh most happy pedagogue, to whom it hasbefallen to have chastised a circumnavigator, and, like another Chiron,trained another Hercules: yet more than Hercules, for he placedhis pillars on the ocean shore, and then returned; but my scholar'svoyage--"
"Hark how the old fox is praising himself all along on the sly," saidCary.
"Mr. William, Mr. William, peace;--silentium, my graceless pupil. Urgethe foaming steed, and strike terror into the rapid stag, but meddle notwith matters too high for thee."
"He has given you the dor now, sir," said Lady Bath; "let the old mansay his say."
"I bring, therefore, as my small contribution to this day's feast; firsta Latin epigram, as thus--"
"Latin? Let us hear it forthwith," cried my lady.
And the old pedant mouthed out--
"Torriguiam Tamaris ne spernat; Leighius addet Mox terras terris, inclyte Drake, tuis."
"Neat, i' faith, la!" Whereon all the rest, as in duty bound, approvedalso.
"This for the erudite: for vulgar ears the vernacular is more consonant,sympathetic, instructive; as thus:--
"Famed Argo ship, that noble chip, by doughty Jason's steering, Brought back to Greece the golden fleece, from Colchis home careering; But now her fame is put to shame, while new Devon
ian Argo, Round earth doth run in wake of sun, and brings wealthier cargo."
"Runs with a right fa-lal-la," observed Cary; "and would go nobly to afiddle and a big drum."
"Ye Spaniards, quake! our doughty Drake a royal swan is tested, On wing and oar, from shore to shore, the raging main who breasted:-- But never needs to chant his deeds, like swan that lies a-dying, So far his name, by trump of fame, around the sphere is flying."
"Hillo ho! schoolmaster!" shouted a voice from behind; "move on, andmake way for Father Neptune!" Whereon a whole storm of raillery fellupon the hapless pedagogue.
"We waited for the parson's alligator, but we wain't for yourn."
"Allegory! my children, allegory!" shrieked the man of letters.
"What do ye call he an alligator for? He is but a poor little starvedevat!"
"Out of the road, old Custis! March on, Don Palmado!"
These allusions to the usual instrument of torture in West-countryschools made the old gentleman wince; especially when they were followedhome by--
"Who stole Admiral Grenville's brooms, because birch rods were dear?"
But proudly he shook his bald head, as a bull shakes off the flies, andreturned to the charge once more.
"Great Alexander, famed commander, wept and made a pother, At conqueringonly half the world, but Drake had conquer'd t'other; And Hercules tobrink of seas!--"
"Oh--!"
And clapping both hands to the back of his neck, the schoolmaster begandancing frantically about, while his boys broke out tittering, "O! theochidore! look to the blue ochidore! Who've put ochidore to maister'spoll!"
It was too true: neatly inserted, as he stooped forward, between hisneck and his collar, was a large live shore-crab, holding on tight withboth hands.
"Gentles! good Christians! save me! I am mare-rode! Incubo, vel abincubo, opprimor! Satanas has me by the poll! Help! he tears my jugular;he wrings my neck, as he does to Dr. Faustus in the play. Confiteor!--Iconfess! Satan, I defy thee! Good people, I confess! [Greek text]! Thetruth will out. Mr. Francis Leigh wrote the epigram!" And diving throughthe crowd, the pedagogue vanished howling, while Father Neptune, crownedwith sea-weeds, a trident in one hand, and a live dog-fish in the other,swaggered up the street surrounded by a tall bodyguard of mariners, andfollowed by a great banner, on which was depicted a globe, with Drake'sship sailing thereon upside down, and overwritten--
"See every man the Pelican, Which round the world did go, While her stern-post was uppermost, And topmasts down below. And by the way she lost a day, Out of her log was stole: But Neptune kind, with favoring wind, Hath brought her safe and whole."
"Now, lads!" cried Neptune; "hand me my parable that's writ for me, andhere goeth!"
And at the top of his bull-voice, he began roaring--
"I am King Neptune bold, The ruler of the seas I don't understand much singing upon land, But I hope what I say will please.
"Here be five Bideford men, Which have sail'd the world around, And I watch'd them well, as they all can tell, And brought them home safe and sound.
"For it is the men of Devon. To see them I take delight, Both to tack and to hull, and to heave and to pull, And to prove themselves in fight.
"Where be those Spaniards proud, That make their valiant boasts; And think for to keep the poor Indians for their sheep, And to farm my golden coasts?
"'Twas the devil and the Pope gave them My kingdom for their own: But my nephew Francis Drake, he caused them to quake, And he pick'd them to the bone.
"For the sea my realm it is, As good Queen Bess's is the land; So freely come again, all merry Devon men, And there's old Neptune's hand."
"Holla, boys! holla! Blow up, Triton, and bring forward the freedom ofthe seas."
Triton, roaring through a conch, brought forward a cockle-shell full ofsalt-water, and delivered it solemnly to Amyas, who, of course, put anoble into it, and returned it after Grenville had done the same.
"Holla, Dick Admiral!" cried neptune, who was pretty far gone in liquor;"we knew thou hadst a right English heart in thee, for all thou standestthere as taut as a Don who has swallowed his rapier."
"Grammercy, stop thy bellowing, fellow, and on; for thou smellest vilelyof fish."
"Everything smells sweet in its right place. I'm going home."
"I thought thou wert there all along, being already half-seas over,"said Cary.
"Ay, right Upsee-Dutch; and that's more than thou ever wilt be, thou'long-shore stay-at-home. Why wast making sheep's eyes at MistressSalterne here, while my pretty little chuck of Burrough there wasplaying at shove-groat with Spanish doubloons?"
"Go to the devil, sirrah!" said Cary. Neptune had touched on a soresubject; and more cheeks than Amyas Leigh's reddened at the hint.
"Amen, if Heaven so please!" and on rolled the monarch of the seas; andso the pageant ended.
The moment Amyas had an opportunity, he asked his brother Frank,somewhat peevishly, where Rose Salterne was.
"What! the mayor's daughter? With her uncle by Kilkhampton, I believe."
Now cunning Master Frank, whose daily wish was to "seek peace and ensueit," told Amyas this, because he must needs speak the truth: but he waspurposed at the same time to speak as little truth as he could, for fearof accidents; and, therefore, omitted to tell his brother how that he,two days before, had entreated Rose Salterne herself to appear as thenymph of Torridge; which honor she, who had no objection either toexhibit her pretty face, to recite pretty poetry, or to be trainedthereto by the cynosure of North Devon, would have assented willingly,but that her father stopped the pretty project by a peremptorycountermove, and packed her off, in spite of her tears, to the saiduncle on the Atlantic cliffs; after which he went up to Burrough, andlaughed over the whole matter with Mrs. Leigh.
"I am but a burgher, Mrs. Leigh, and you a lady of blood; but I am tooproud to let any man say that Simon Salterne threw his daughter at yourson's head;--no; not if you were an empress!"
"And to speak truth, Mr. Salterne, there are young gallants enough inthe country quarrelling about her pretty face every day, without makingher a tourney-queen to tilt about."
Which was very true; for during the three years of Amyas's absence, RoseSalterne had grown into so beautiful a girl of eighteen, that half NorthDevon was mad about the "Rose of Torridge," as she was called; andthere was not a young gallant for ten miles round (not to speak of herfather's clerks and 'prentices, who moped about after her like so manyMalvolios, and treasured up the very parings of her nails) who wouldnot have gone to Jerusalem to win her. So that all along the vales ofTorridge and of Taw, and even away to Clovelly (for young Mr. Cary wasone of the sick), not a gay bachelor but was frowning on his fellows,and vying with them in the fashion of his clothes, the set of his ruffs,the harness of his horse, the carriage of his hawks, the pattern of hissword-hilt; and those were golden days for all tailors and armorers,from Exmoor to Okehampton town. But of all those foolish young ladsnot one would speak to the other, either out hunting, or at the archerybutts, or in the tilt-yard; and my Lady Bath (who confessed that therewas no use in bringing out her daughters where Rose Salterne was in theway) prophesied in her classical fashion that Rose's wedding bid fairto be a very bridal of Atalanta, and feast of the Lapithae; and poorMr. Will Cary (who always blurted out the truth), when old Salterne onceasked him angrily in Bideford Market, "What a plague business had hemaking sheep's eyes at his daughter?" broke out before all bystanders,"And what a plague business had you, old boy, to throw such an apple ofdiscord into our merry meetings hereabouts? If you choose to have sucha daughter, you must take the consequences, and be hanged to you." Towhich Mr. Salterne answered with some truth, "That she was none of hischoosing, nor of Mr. Cary's neither." And so the dor being given, thebelligerents parted laughing, but the war remained in statu quo; andnot a
week passed but, by mysterious hands, some nosegay, or languishingsonnet, was conveyed into The Rose's chamber, all which she stowed away,with the simplicity of a country girl, finding it mighty pleasant; andtook all compliments quietly enough, probably because, on the authorityof her mirror, she considered them no more than her due.
And now, to add to the general confusion, home was come young AmyasLeigh, more desperately in love with her than ever. For, as is theway with sailors (who after all are the truest lovers, as they are thefinest fellows, God bless them, upon earth), his lonely ship-watcheshad been spent in imprinting on his imagination, month after month, yearafter year, every feature and gesture and tone of the fair lass whom hehad left behind him; and that all the more intensely, because, besidehis mother, he had no one else to think of, and was as pure as the dayhe was born, having been trained as many a brave young man was then,to look upon profligacy not as a proof of manhood, but as what the oldGermans, and those Gortyneans who crowned the offender with wool, knewit to be, a cowardly and effeminate sin.
Westward Ho! Or, The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Burrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty Queen Elizabeth Page 2