The Two Admirals. Джеймс Фенимор Купер
of the same name?”
“I would rather not receive a letter that does not strictly bear my address,” returned the other, coldly.
“As I’ll be sworn this does. But hand it to me, since you are so scrupulous, and I will do that small service for you.”
As this was said, Sir Gervaise tore aside the seals; and, as he proceeded rather summarily, a red riband was soon uncased and fell upon the carpet. The other usual insignia of the Bath made their appearance, and a letter was found among them, to explain the meaning of all. Every thing was in due form, and went to acquaint Rear-Admiral Bluewater, that His Majesty had been graciously pleased to confer on him one of the vacant red ribands of the day, as a reward for his eminent services on different occasions. There was even a short communication from the premier, expressing the great satisfaction of the ministry in thus being able to second the royal pleasure with hearty good will.
“Well, what do you think of that, Richard Bluewater?” asked Sir Gervaise, triumphantly. “Did I not always tell you, that sooner or later, it must come?”
“It has come too late, then,” coldly returned the other, laying the riband, jewels, and letters, quietly on the table. “This is an honour, I can receive, now, only from my rightful prince. None other can legally create a knight of the Bath.”
“And pray, Mr. Richard Bluewater, who made you a captain, a commander, a rear-admiral? Do you believe me an impostor, because I wear this riband on authority no better than that of the house of Hanover? Am I, or am I not, in your judgment, a vice-admiral of the red?”
“I make a great distinction, Oakes, between rank in the navy, and a mere personal dignity. In the one case, you serve your country, and give quite as much as you receive; whereas, in the other, it is a grace to confer consideration on the person honoured, without such an equivalent as can find an apology for accepting a rank illegally conferred.”
“The devil take your distinctions, which would unsettle every thing, and render the service a Babel. If I am a vice-admiral of the red, I am a knight of the Bath; and, if you are a rear-admiral of the white, you are also a knight of that honourable order. All comes from the same source of authority, and the same fountain of honour.”
“I do not view it thus. Our commissions are from the admiralty, which represents the country; but dignities come from the prince who happens to reign, let his title be what it may.”
“Do you happen to think Richard III. a usurper, or a lawful prince?”
“A usurper, out of all question; and a murderer to boot. His name should be struck from the list of English kings. I never hear it, without execrating him, and his deeds.”
“Pooh – pooh, Dick, this is talking more like a poet than a seaman. If only one-half the sovereigns who deserve to be execrated had their names erased, the list of even our English kings would be rather short; and some countries would be without historical kings at all. However much Richard III. may deserve cashiering in this summary manner, his peers and laws are just as good as any other prince’s peers and laws. Witness the Duke of Norfolk, for instance.”
“Ay, that cannot be helped by me; but it is in my power to prevent Richard Bluewater’s being made a knight or the Bath, by George II.; and the power shall be used.”
“It would seem not, as he is already created; and I dare to say, gazetted.”
“The oaths are not yet taken, and it is, at least, an Englishman’s birth-right, to decline an honour; if, indeed, this can be esteemed an honour, at all.”
“Upon my word, Rear-Admiral Sir Richard Bluewater, you are disposed to be complimentary, to-night! The unworthy knight present, and all the rest of the order, are infinitely indebted to you!”
“Your case and mine, Oakes, are essentially different,” returned the other, with some emotion in his voice and manner. “Your riband was fairly won, fighting the battles of England, and can be worn with credit to yourself and to your country; but these baubles are sent to me, at a moment when a rising was foreseen, and as a sop to keep me in good-humour, as well as to propitiate the whole Bluewater interest.”
“That is pure conjecture, and I dare say will prove to be altogether a mistake. Here are the despatches to speak for themselves; and, as it is scarcely possible that the ministry should have known of this rash movement of the Pretender’s son, more than a few days, my life on it, the dates will show that your riband was bestowed before the enterprise was even suspected.”
As Sir Gervaise commenced, with his constitutional ardour, to turn over the letters, as soon as his mind was directed to this particular object, Admiral Bluewater resumed his seat, awaiting the result, with not a little curiosity; though, at the same time, with a smile of incredulity. The examination disappointed Sir Gervaise Oakes. The dates proved that the ministers were better informed than he had supposed; for it appeared they had been apprised about the time he was himself of the intended movement. His orders were to bring the fleet north, and in substance to do the very thing his own sagacity had dictated. So far every thing was well; and he could not entertain a doubt about receiving the hearty approbation of his superiors, for the course he had taken. But here his gratification ended; for, on looking at the dates of the different communications, it was evident that the red riband was bestowed after the intelligence of the Pretender’s movement had reached London. A private letter, from a friend at the Board of Admiralty, too, spoke of his own probable promotion to the rank of admiral of the blue; and mentioned several other similar preferments, in a way to show that the government was fortifying itself, in the present crisis, as much as possible, by favours. This was a politic mode of procedure, with ordinary men, it is true; but with officers of the elevation of mind, and of the independence of character of our two admirals, it was most likely to produce disgust.
“D – n ‘em, Dick,” cried Sir Gervaise, as he threw down the last letter of the package, with no little sign of feeling; “you might take St. Paul, or even Wychecombe’s dead brother, St. James the Less, and put him at court, and he would come out a thorough blackguard, in a week!”
“That is not the common opinion concerning a court education,” quietly replied the friend; “most people fancying that the place gives refinement of manners, if not of sentiment.”
“Poh – poh – you and I have no need of a dictionary to understand each other. I call a man who never trusts to a generous motive – who thinks it always necessary to bribe or cajole – who has no idea of any thing’s being done without its direct quid pro quo, a scurvy blackguard, though he has the airs and graces of Phil. Stanhope, or Chesterfield, as he is now. What do you think those chaps at the Board, talk of doing, by way of clinching my loyalty, at this blessed juncture?”
“No doubt to get you raised to the peerage. I see nothing so much out of the way in the thing. You are of one of the oldest families of England, and the sixth baronet by inheritance, and have a noble landed estate, which is none the worse for prize-money. Sir Gervaise Oakes of Bowldero, would make a very suitable Lord Bowldero.”
“If it were only that, I shouldn’t mind it; for nothing is easier than to refuse a peerage. I’ve done that twice already, and can do it a third time, at need. But one can’t very well refuse promotion in his regular profession; and, here, just as a true gentleman would depend on the principles of an officer, the hackneyed consciences of your courtiers have suggested the expediency of making Gervaise Oakes an admiral of the blue, by way of sop! – me, who was made vice-admiral of the red, only six months since, and who take an honest pride in boasting that every commission, from the lowest to the highest, has been fairly earned in battle!”
“They think it a more delicate service, perhaps, for a gentleman to be true to the reigning house, when so loud an appeal is made to his natural loyalty; and therefore class the self-conquest with a victory at sea!”
“They are so many court-lubbers, and I should like to have an opportunity of speaking my mind to them. I’ll not take the new commission; for every one must see, Dick, that it is a sop.”
“Ay, that’s just my notion, too, about the red riband; and I’ll not take that. You have had