Part 10
“Come, come,” said the captain, as he turned round to hide the gathering tear; “let us sit down to dinner, and we’ll discuss the matter afterwards. At present, thank God, you are safe; the young folks have yet many years to pass over their heads, and a thousand things may happen. Thus much, however, I will say; if ever he disgraces his cloth, I will be the first to oppose his designs; but if, on the contrary, he continues in the same honourable course he has begun, I will support him with hand and heart; so, Sir Edward, you will have two opponents instead of one.”
Sir Edward resumed his seat, his son returned to the table, but it was evidently with great mortification, and the dinner passed off tolerably well.
The infant I had taken from its dying mother, was the son of a female passenger going to join her husband, an officer in the army who had preceded her about twelve months, at a time when it was impossible she could accompany him. The little innocent did not want for nurses in the frigate, as a great many women had been saved, and every seamen was anxious to caress and fondle the child. It was afterwards restored to its father; and both their names were returned amongst the killed on the plains of Waterloo,--the former a colonel, the latter a captain in his father’s regiment. But to proceed.
After touching at the island of Flores for a supply of water and fresh provisions, we pursued our course for home; and though from my junior station I could not join the company of Sir Edward and his family, nor even approach the captain without his sanction, unless on duty, yet Agnes took frequent opportunities for conversing with me. I did not venture to mention my ardent attachment, or request a return of her esteem; yet I had the satisfaction of knowing that we regarded each other with feelings of affection, founded upon the purest desire of promoting each other’s happiness. None but those who have witnessed, can form an idea of the beauties of a fine clear summer evening passed upon the smooth surface of the ocean; it is the season when the officers assemble on the quarter-deck, and as they pace fore-and-aft, enjoy the social and unrestrained converse which is precious to the heart. The falling shades of twilight conceal the anxious look as busy Memory conjures up scenes of past joys, and Hope portrays the coming future. It was at these hours that Agnes generally came on deck, and I had the inexpressible pleasure of enjoying her society; for Sir Edward had relaxed in his haughtiness though his son remained impenetrably stubborn.
At length we arrived in England, and the baronet repaired to London; but previously to his departure I received the most solemn assurances of the attachment of Agnes. To my friend, the lieutenant, I was indebted for this last interview; and in his presence our vows of fidelity were pledged. A few weeks afterwards, the baronet with his son and daughter once more embarked for Bombay. Agnes wrote me a farewell letter, and every energy of my soul was aroused to fresh exertions in my profession, under the hope of one day calling her mine. As soon as duty would admit, I visited my parents, whose joy at seeing me again exceeded all bounds. They were very comfortably settled, and it was not amongst the least of their gratifications to behold their only child arrayed in the naval uniform of his country.
It would be a useless, though perhaps not altogether an uninteresting task, for me to detail the events of the seven succeeding years, during which I frequently endeavoured to get on the East India station, and at last obtained my desire. At this time I was first-lieutenant of a frigate, (as through the interest of the captain, I received a commission almost immediately after passing my examination,) and had amassed a very handsome property in prize-money; but I knew it would be necessary for me to gain higher promotion before Sir Edward would listen to my proposals. Nevertheless, the prospect of seeing Agnes afforded me the most lively emotions of pleasure. To this moment I can remember the delight which swelled my soul when we anchored at Bombay, particularly as we had captured an enemy’s ship that had long been a great annoyance to commerce in the Indian seas, as it seemed to promise me another step.
As soon as duty would permit, I went on shore and eagerly hastened to the residence of Sir Edward, where almost the first individual that met my sight was the old butler. From him I learned that the baronet had been consigned to the tomb about nine months;--that young Sir Edward retained an important and lucrative office,--and that the gentle Agnes, harassed by the _importunities_ (I afterwards heard _cruelties_) of her brother to become the wife of an extremely wealthy but depraved libertine, had sunk broken-hearted to the grave! and the old man, with many tears, placed in my hands her last letter addressed to me, with a small box containing her miniature and several other mementos of an affectionate heart.
I shall not attempt to describe the anguish of my spirit at this heavy disappointment; at first it seemed to wither up my faculties, as if the only incentive to exertion was entirely destroyed, and all my future prospects were thenceforward to be dark and dreary. Many years have flown away since, and I am now an old post captain; but though I have seen hundreds of beautiful and pleasing women, I am still single. My affection for the devoted Agnes--my first, my only love--remains unshaken, and I look forward to that happy union in the blissful realms of immortality which knows neither separation nor sorrow.
FOOTNOTES
[7] Three miles.
[8] Half-past ten o’clock.
THE VETERAN SOLDIER.
“The brave poor soldier ne’er despise, Nor treat him as a stranger: For still he’ll prove his country’s stay, In every hour of danger.”
The young urchins were taking their last five minutes of play on the beautiful village green at S----, in Devonshire, previous to returning to the school-room for the afternoon, and in the midst of them stood a tall but aged man, who appeared to be regulating the game with all the accuracy of a thorough tactician. I stood watching the interesting group of children (of all ages) whose actions were guided by the tall old man, and witnessed their parting when the sonorous bell called them from their sports. They assembled round the aged mentor, and in a broad Irish accent he bade them mind their “larning,” and be good “childer.”
I entered into conversation with the veteran, and found he was a pensioner on the army, who had also a little property to live upon in the village of S----, which had been left him by an officer whose life he had preserved at the battle of Talavera. Having an hour or two to spare, I requested to hear something of his history, and with the garrulity natural to old age, he readily complied with my request. We seated ourselves, on a rustic bench beneath a giant sycamore, and he began by telling me--but I cannot do better than give it in his own language.
“Faith, but your honour’s mighty condescending,” he exclaimed, “to listen to the chathering of ould Pat. Fifty years have marched off under General Time since I first shouldered the firelock, and now I am daily expecting the route (for my billet is nearly expired) to assemble for the grand review before the sarcher of all hearts. Och, many’s the time and oft I’ve wished for some kind friend that I might spake a word to and unburthen my sinful spirit; for when I’ve stood sentry all alone by myself in the dark nights in Ameriky and Spain, and in dare little Ireland too, I’ve thought, ‘Arrah Paddy, but you are a great big blaggard, so you are, for running away from your ould mother that’s dead and gone, without so much as seeing her dacently laid under the turf. If she had been alive, it would have broke her heart, so it would, to think how her own beautiful Paddy should desart her in time of need, and not stop to see her waked.’ But ’twas the dthrink, your honour, ’twas the murthering dthrink, and bad manners to Sarjent Linstock for that same; he laughed at poor Pat, and marched us off without bate of drum, saying that ‘She would never wake again;’ for I must be after telling you that there was a recruiting party came down to the fair, so they picked me out as the most likely lad on the sod; and indeed your honour, there wasn’t many in those days, though I say it meself, that dared tread upon my greatcoat, or call my shtick a rascal. But, as I said before, it was the dthrink, and then they chated me by slipping the king’s countenance into my fob when I knew nothing about it at all, at all; but they swore I had ’listed willingly, and had taken the picture meself. Och, by my conscience, didn’t I get into a thundering rage, sure!--not that I minded sarving his Majesty, heaven bless the heart of his soul, that’s in t’other world! but I thought it was not trateing me handsome, your honour, to trap me into it. But I found it was of no use to complain; so I went to bid poor mother good bye, and she’d just breath enough left to tell me not to disgrace the country that gave me birth. ‘Arrah Paddy, (says she,) my own dare Paddy, that I loved so tinderly, and used to get the but--but--but-buthermilk and pra-pratees for!’ Oh, sir, ’tis a big shame to see a sodger cry; but when I think of the dare soul and the buthermilk, how can I help it? ‘Niver dishonour your cloth, Paddy, (says she,) nor the king you sarve, nor the father that begot you. Fight in a just cause, and when the vanquished cry for quarter, unlock the heart and spare the hand. Protect the innocent, and do your duty like a man.’
“Then there was poor Norah, your honour. Och, hone, but I thought it would have broken my heart entirely, to see how the tears chased each other down her pale face! ‘And why will ye lave me, Paddy, (says she) all alone by meself? Oh, look at our cottage and the peat-stack--where will you find the likes of it in another country, Paddy? Then there’s the bit of a bog yonder for the pigs and the geese, and your own dare Norah, and the pratee garden. Oh, why will you go, Paddy, and lave me all alone by meself?’ And then, your honour, I put my arms round her neck, (for I couldn’t spake a word,) and my tears fell trickling on a bosom that looked like twin roses moistened with dew. Oh, I niver felt before nor since as I did at that same moment! But then Mr. Sarjent must have his say, divel twist him to the right about round the rim of the moon,--God forgive me that I should have unchristian feelings tow’rds the vilest of his creatures; ‘Come, come, young man, (says he) fall into the ranks and march; you’ll soon find prettier girls to lead a wild-goose chase!’ Bad manners to him for that same, to try and make my own dare Norah believe that her Pat would iver cease to love her as his own heart’s blood; so I up and tould him I didn’t like to be made game of. ‘Well, well, (says he) I suppose an honest sodger may have a kiss.’--‘Arrah, dress back to the rear, (says I) Mr. Sarjent, for by me soul, if you lay but one of your thieving-hooks upon a digit of her corporal substance, faith! but I’ll brake me arm across your face, so I will.’ Well, your honour, and so he persisted in that same, and cotch’d hould of her gown. Oh, ’twas more than Irish blood could brook, and ‘Lay there jewel!’ says I, stretching him along upon mother earth before he could cry ‘whack!’ and then they put iron mittens on me, and tore my swate love away. I thought me brain would have turned, and so they took me before ould Justice Ballymagfoglem, and poor Pat was committed for a rogue and a vagabond, and marched off for Cork under a military guard; and put into jail.
“A few days afterwards and the transports were going to sail; so they trotted me down to the beach, and there I found a great many more like meself. Well, just as I was stepping into the boat, I heard the swate voice of my own dear Norah, and so I stepped back again. ‘Jump into the boat! you mutinous rascal,’ says the sarjent. ‘Rascal yourself, (says I) Mr. Sarjent; do you think his honoured majesty, God bless him! would refuse me one last embrace from the dare cratur I’d broke the bit o’ gold with? Arrah, be aisey now, and paws off,’ for they began to handle me again, your honour. ‘Let the poor fellow alone!’ said the midshipmite of the boat; ‘let him alone to spake to the girl.’--‘God bless you! young jontleman (says I) for that same. May your father niver have to sorrow over your mother’s son!’
“And so poor Norah came to me; but I couldn’t throw my arms round her neck now, your honour, for the bracelets they had clapped upon my wrists; but she stooped down and got between them, and we were folded to each other’s hearts. Oh, sir, I feel it at this moment, and hope you won’t think the worse of poor Pat for the dthrop in his eye. Well, we were obliged to part; ‘Oh Paddy, (says she) niver, niver forget your country or your Norah!’--and bad luck to me, your honour, if ever I did--and she waved her apron till I saw her out of sight, and then I could have laid down and died. ‘Niver forget your country or your Norah!’ were her last words; and they have ever been engraven on my heart, by the same token that Corporal Flannagan, who had received a ’varsity edecation where he was brought up to run arrands and clane shoes, composed the beautifullest song,--oh! your honour, it would do your heart good to hear it. Faith, and it’s here I’ve got it, along with the bit of broken gold and a lock of my own darling’s hair, all black and shining,--oh! they’re a rich treasure to poor Pat. My hair was like it once, but now my head is silvered over with the snow of age; but my heart is as warm as iver, and melts with tenderness, spite of the frost of adversity that has so often nipped it. Would your honour like to rade that same? or shall I rade it to you? Oh, I can repeat it by heart, for sure it is always laying next to it.
‘Dear land of my fathers, their glory and pride, Who fought for their homes and in Freedom’s cause died; The hallow’d green turf-mound marks each sacred spot, And their spirits still cry, Let us ne’er be forgot! Forget you? Ah never, whilst Shannon’s stream flows, And Liberty’s tree on dear Erin’s land grows, To yield us shilelahs to lather our foes Will Paddy forget you,--ah never!
‘Your lovely green meadows, all sparkling with dew, Where Norah first met me, how dear to my view; Remembrance now pictures the sweet little cot, And I hear her last words, Let me ne’er be forgot! Forget you? Ah never! though now far apart, Still faithful and honest shall be this poor heart; Till life’s latest breath from my lips shall depart Can Paddy forget you?--ah never!’
“There, your honour, what do you think of that for a composition? oh sure, it’s a sublimity. ‘Can Paddy forget you? ah never!’ But to make the long of the short of it and go on with my story; I was sent on board a transport, and the next day we sailed with the rest for the West Injees, and all the passage out I was drilled morning, noon, and night, till I was as thin as a pratee dibble,--marching and countermarching between two guns on the deck, that wer’n’t more nor six feet asunder; and what with the sea-sickness, and the drilling, and the six-upon-four,[9] I was almost done up by the time we got to Jemakee, where they make niggers of the poor blacks.
“Och! your honour, but that was the place for the yellow faver and the land crabs, and may-be I didn’t get a long spell in the hospital, that made me as thin as a ramrod and as wake as ten-water grog. But I got over that bout; though many’s the brave sodger I’ve seen hearty and well at sunset--talking about home and the darlins--and a loathsome corpse before morning, and buried by day-break. By me conscience, death gives but little more warning there than he does in the field of battle. Yet I got used to the place at last, and there I was made a corporal, and should have been contint but for the thoughts of my poor Norah.
“Well, many years after this, the regiment was ordered to the River Plate, and so we landed in Maldonado Bay and took the Island of Goretta. Oh, your honour, it made my heart ache to see the poor souls lie bleeding on the ground, and to be obliged to stick my bayonet into the breast of a fellow-cratur! But I thought of my ould mother’s advice, sure,--‘Do your duty like a man.’ After this, we sailed up to Monte Video, and I shall niver forget to remember that same, when we stormed the breach over a scaling ladder of dead bodies that came tumbling down upon us as fast as we could get up. By and by, somebody fetches me the terriblest poke of the sconce; it made the light dance in my eyes like sparks from a skyrocket, and who should it be but my old friend Sarjent Linstock, sure, as dead as a red herring, your honour. ‘Long life to you, jewel! (says I) for taking yourself out of the way so dacently;’ but my heart smote me as soon as I had said it. ‘Shame to you, Paddy, (thought I) to rejoice in the downfall of any man; you don’t know how soon it may be your own turn,’ and it struck me all of a heap entirely, so I stood stock still. ‘On, on, my brave fellows!’ roared somebody in the rear, giving me a prick behind with the bayonet; it made me jump like a billy-goat, and so I rushed on, headed by our brave captain, and we entered the town.
“Well, there was a comical fellow of the name of Taylor[10] (he was a sailor commanding a private brig of war) advanced with us, having a bag of Union-Jacks over his shoulder to hoist upon the batteries. When we got into the great square ould Elio, the governor, stood ready with his troops to receive us; so we charged, and Taylor running on, knocked the ould fellow down with the bag of Jacks, and after that, och! but it was all dickey with them.
“‘Arrah, Paddy, what booty have you got?’ says Corporal Blacketer. ‘Sorrow the scurragh,’ says I. ‘Och, hone to your heart, look here!’ says he; and so, your honour, he turns round upon his back, and puts his hand into his haversack, and pulls out a little silver image, that I knew at first glance was St. Peter. ‘Oh, you tief o-the-world, (says I,) what, rob a church?’--‘No, no, (says the corporal,) I had it from an honest priest, to redeem his _corpas-any-mule-he_ from danger. And see here, (opening his cartouche-box and showing another,) and here, (tapping his knapsack that bulked out,) see here! I’ve got all the saints in the calendar dacently buckled up; faith, here’s enough to make an almanack.’
“But what plased me most was, the good cheer we met with after our long voyage. I’ll engage we wasn’t long getting the camp-kettles to work. Oh, there was beef and mutton for picking up, and turkeys and chickens enough to stock all the _uphoulsterers_ in the united kingdom. Oh, your honour, didn’t we live like fighting cocks, sure?”
At this moment, an elderly female called to the veteran from the door of a snug little cottage, mantled with evergreens and surrounded by a garden neatly laid out, and kept in the most exact order.
“Faith! (said he) but my baccy’s ready; and will your honour condescend to walk into the cabin, to rest yees a little while?”
I told him my engagements would not at that moment permit me; but as I should remain some time in the neighbourhood, I would most certainly visit him once more before I quitted that part of the country.
“I hope no offence,” said he, “but I should be proud to do meself the honour of your acquaintance, so I would; and if you could make it convenient to give poor Pat a call now and then, ’twould cause joy to dance in his heart, and pleasure would stretch out the wrinkles in his withered countenance. Long life to your honour, and may God bless you!”
The veteran rose from his seat, gave his hand a military flourish to his hat, and marched off in ordinary time to his cottage; whilst I pursued my way to the residence of a friend, reflecting on the vicissitudes of life.
A few days after this adventure, I again visited the spot; and on advancing to the village green, I observed my friend Pat with some twenty little urchins drawn up in a line, each with a broomstick or mop-handle, going through the various evolutions of the drill-ground. He was in the first position for facing to the right; and the youngsters, with mouths and eyes wide open, were watching the motion.
Though seventy winters had spent their storms upon his head, he stood erect and firm, and at that moment would have been a fine study for an artist. “To the right face!” said he, and the motion brought him full in my front; his hand was flourished to his hat in an instant, and from a countenance expressive of command, it changed to one of the most lively pleasure. “Oh, joy to the hour that I see your honour again! Faith! but delight is bateing the roll upon the drum of my heart, and every swate sensation is answering to the muster.”
The children, no longer under control, were charging each other in front and rear, which annoying the veteran, he exclaimed, “Arrah be aisey, and don’t be after making such a hubaboo. Double quick time, march!” and off they started, as wild as young colts. “Are any of these your own?” inquired I. “Oh no, your honour,” he replied mournfully; “when the turf covers poor ould Pat, his lamp will be clane put out. But see at yon gossoon; oh, it makes my heart ache to look at him, for he has never a friend in the world, nor in Ireland eather, save and beside myself, your honour. Sure, isn’t he a darling of a boy, by token that he’s the very image of my own dare Norah. Come here, Casey, und spake to the gentleman; don’t stand rubbing your pate there.”