The Virginians

by William Makepeace Thackeray

  CHAPTER LXV. Soldier's Return

  Great Powers! will the vainglory of men, especially of Frenchmen, nevercease? Will it be believed, that after the action of St. Cas--a mereaffair of cutting off a rearguard, as you are aware--they were sounfeeling as to fire away I don't know how much powder at the Invalidesat Paris, and brag and bluster over our misfortune? Is there anymagnanimity in hallooing and huzzaying because five or six hundred bravefellows have been caught by ten thousand on a seashore, and that fatehas overtaken them which is said to befall the hindmost? I had a mindto design an authentic picture of the rejoicings at London upon ourglorious success at St. Malo. I fancied the polished guns dragged inprocession by our gallant tars; the stout horse-grenadiers prancing by;the mob waving hats, roaring cheers, picking pockets, and our friends ina balcony in Fleet Street looking on and blessing this scene of Britishtriumph. But now that the French Invalides have been so vulgar as toimitate the Tower, and set up their St. Cas against our St. Malo, Iscorn to allude to the stale subject. I say Nolo, not Malo: content, formy part, if Harry has returned from one expedition and t'other with awhole skin. And have I ever said he was so much as bruised? Have I not,for fear of exciting my fair young reader, said that he was as well asever he had been in his life? The sea air had browned his cheek, andthe ball whistling by his side-curl had spared it. The ocean had wet hisgaiters and other garments, without swallowing up his body. He had, itis true, shown the lapels of his coat to the enemy; but for as short atime as possible, withdrawing out of their sight as quick as might be.And what, pray, are lapels but reverses? Coats have them, as well asmen; and our duty is to wear them with courage and good-humour.

  "I can tell you," said Harry, "we all had to run for it; and when ourline broke, it was he who could get to the boats who was most lucky. TheFrench horse and foot pursued us down to the sea, and were mingledamong us, cutting our men down, and bayoneting them on the ground. PoorArmytage was shot in advance of me, and fell; and I took him up andstaggered through the surf to a boat. It was lucky that the sailors inour boat weren't afraid; for the shot were whistling about their ears,breaking the blades of their oars, and riddling their flag with shot;but the officer in command was as cool as if he had been drinking a bowlof punch at Portsmouth, which we had one on landing, I can promise you.Poor Sir John was less lucky than me. He never lived to reach the ship,and the service has lost a fine soldier, and Miss Howe a true gentlemanto her husband. There must be these casualties, you see; and his brothergets the promotion--the baronetcy."

  "It is of the poor lady I am thinking," says Miss Hetty (to whom haplyour volunteer is telling his story); "and the King. Why did the Kingencourage Sir John Armytage to go? A gentleman could not refuse acommand from such a quarter. And now the poor gentleman is dead! Oh,what a state his Majesty must be in!"

  "I have no doubt his Majesty will be in a deep state of grief," sayspapa, wagging his head.

  "Now you are laughing! Do you mean, sir, that when a gentleman diesin his service, almost at his feet, the King of England won't feelfor him?" Hetty asks. "If I thought that, I vow I would be for thePretender!"

  "The sauce-box would make a pretty little head for Temple Bar," says theGeneral, who could see Miss Hetty's meaning behind her words, and wasaware in what a tumult of remorse, of consternation, of gratitude thatthe danger was over, the little heart was beating. "No," says he, "mydear. Were kings to weep for every soldier, what a life you would makefor them! I think better of his Majesty than to suppose him so weak;and, if Miss Hester Lambert got her Pretender, I doubt whether she wouldbe any the happier. That family was never famous for too much feeling."

  "But if the King sent Harry--I mean Sir John Armytage--actually tothe war in which he lost his life, oughtn't his Majesty to repent verymuch?" asks the young lady.

  "If Harry had fallen, no doubt the court would have gone into mourning:as it is, gentlemen and ladies were in coloured clothes yesterday,"remarks the General.

  "Why should we not make bonfires for a defeat, and put on sackcloth andashes after a victory?" asks George. "I protest I don't want to thankHeaven for helping us to burn the ships at Cherbourg."

  "Yes you do, George! Not that I have a right to speak, and you ain'tever so much cleverer. But when your country wins you're glad--I knowI am. When I run away before Frenchmen I'm ashamed--I can't help it,though I done it," says Harry. "It don't seem to me right somehow thatEnglishmen should have to do it," he added, gravely. And George smiled;but did not choose to ask his brother what, on the other hand, was theFrenchman's opinion.

  "'Tis a bad business," continued Harry, gravely; "but 'tis lucky 'twasno worse. The story about the French is, that their Governor, the Dukeof Aiguillon, was rather what you call a moistened chicken. Our wholeretreat might have been cut off, only, to be sure, we ourselves were ina mighty hurry to move. The French local militia behaved famous, I amhappy to say; and there was ever so many gentlemen volunteers with 'em,who showed, as they ought to do, in the front. They say the Chevalierof Tour d'Auvergne engaged in spite of the Duke of Aiguillon's orders.Officers told us, who came off with a list of our prisoners and woundedto General Bligh and Lord Howe. He is a lord now, since the news came ofhis brother's death to home, George. He is a brave fellow, whether lordor commoner."

  "And his sister, who was to have married poor Sir John Armytage, thinkwhat her state must be!" sighs Miss Hetty, who has grown of late sosentimental.

  "And his mother!" cries Mrs. Lambert. "Have you seen her ladyship'saddress in the papers to the electors of Nottingham? 'Lord Howe beingnow absent upon the publick service, and Lieutenant-Colonel Howe withhis regiment at Louisbourg, it rests upon me to beg the favour of yourvotes and interests that Lieutenant-Colonel Howe may supply the placeof his late brother as your representative in Parliament.' Isn't this agallant woman?"

  "A Laconic woman," says George.

  "How can sons help being brave who have been nursed by such a mother asthat?" asks the General.

  Our two young men looked at each other.

  "If one of us were to fall in defence of his country, we have a motherin Sparta who would think and write so too," says George.

  "If Sparta is anywhere Virginia way, I reckon we have," remarks Mr.Harry. "And to think that we should both of us have met the enemy, andboth of us been whipped by him, brother!" he adds pensively.

  Hetty looks at him, and thinks of him only as he was the other day,tottering through the water towards the boats, his comrade bleeding onhis shoulder, the enemy in pursuit, the shot flying round. And it wasshe who drove him into the danger! Her words provoked him. He neverrebukes her now he is returned. Except when asked, he scarcely speaksabout his adventures at all. He is very grave and courteous with Hetty;with the rest of the family especially frank and tender. But thosetaunts of hers wounded him. "Little hand!" his looks and demeanour seemto say, "thou shouldst not have been lifted against me! It is ill toscorn any one, much more one who has been so devoted to you and allyours. I may not be over quick of wit, but in as far as the heart goes,I am the equal of the best, and the best of my heart your family hashad."

  Harry's wrong, and his magnanimous endurance of it, served him to regainin Miss Hetty's esteem that place which he had lost during the previousmonths' inglorious idleness. The respect which the fair pay to the braveshe gave him. She was no longer pert in her answers, or sarcastic in herobservations regarding his conduct. In a word, she was a humiliated, analtered, an improved Miss Hetty.

  And all the world seemed to change towards Harry, as he towards theworld. He was no longer sulky and indolent: he no more desponded abouthimself, or defied his neighbours. The colonel of his regimentreported his behaviour as exemplary, and recommended him for one of thecommissions vacated by the casualties during the expedition. Unluckyas its termination was, it at least was fortunate to him. Hisbrother-volunteers, when they came back to St. James's Street, reportedhighly of his behaviour. These volunteers and their actions were thetheme of everybody's praise. Had he been a general comman
ding, and slainin the moment of victory, Sir John Armytage could scarce have had moresympathy than that which the nation showed him. The papers teemed withletters about him, and men of wit and sensibility vied with each otherin composing epitaphs in his honour. The fate of his affianced bride wasbewailed. She was, as we have said, the sister of the brave Commodorewho had just returned from this unfortunate expedition, and succeededto the title of his elder brother, an officer as gallant as himself, whohad just fallen in America.

  My Lord Howe was heard to speak in special praise of Mr. Warrington, andso he had a handsome share of the fashion and favour which the townnow bestowed on the volunteers. Doubtless there were thousands ofmen employed who were as good as they but the English ever love theirgentlemen, and love that they should distinguish themselves; and thesevolunteers were voted Paladins and heroes by common accord. As our youngnoblemen will, they accepted their popularity very affably. White's andAlmack's illuminated when they returned, and St. James's embraced itsyoung knights. Harry was restored to full favour amongst them.Their hands were held out eagerly to him again. Even his relationscongratulated him; and there came a letter from Castlewood, whither AuntBernstein had by this time betaken herself, containing praises of hisvalour, and a pretty little bank-bill, as a token of his affectionateaunt's approbation. This was under my Lord Castlewood's frank, who senthis regards to both his kinsmen, and an offer of the hospitality of hiscountry-house, if they were minded to come to him. And besides this,there came to him a private letter through the post--not very wellspelt, but in a handwriting which Harry smiled to see again, in whichhis affeetionate cousin, Maria Esmond, told him she always loved to hearhis praises (which were in everybody's mouth now), and sympathised inhis good or evil fortune; and that, whatever occurred to him, she beggedto keep a little place in his heart. Parson Sampson, she wrote, hadpreached a beautiful sermon about the horrors of war, and the nobleactions of men who volunteered to face battle and danger in the serviceof their country. Indeed, the chaplain wrote himself, presently, aletter full of enthusiasm, in which he saluted Mr. Harry as his friend,his benefactor, his glorious hero. Even Sir Miles Warrington despatcheda basket of game from Norfolk: and one bird (shot sitting), with loveto my cousin, had a string and paper round the leg, and was sent as thefirst victim of young Miles's fowling-piece.

  And presently, with joy beaming in his countenance, Mr. Lambert cameto visit his young friends at their lodgings in Southampton Row, andannounced to them that Mr. Henry Warrington was forthwith to be gazettedas Ensign in the Second Battalion of Kingsley's, the 20th Regiment,which had been engaged in the campaign, and which now at this time wasformed into a separate regiment, the 67th. Its colonel was not with hisregiment during its expedition to Brittany. He was away at Cape Breton,and was engaged in capturing those guns at Louisbourg, of which thearrival in England had caused such exultation.