The Virginians

  CHAPTER LXIV. In which Harry lives to fight another Day

  The trusty Gumbo could not console himself for the departure of hisbeloved master: at least, to judge from his tears and howls on firsthearing the news of Mr. Harry's enlistment, you would have thoughtthe negro's heart must break at the separation. No wonder he went forsympathy to the maid-servants at Mr. Lambert's lodgings. Wherever thatdusky youth was, he sought comfort in the society of females. Their fairand tender bosoms knew how to feel pity for the poor African, andthe darkness of Gumbo's complexion was no more repulsive to them thanOthello's to Desdemona. I believe Europe has never been so squeamishin regard to Africa, as a certain other respected Quarter. Nay, someAfricans--witness the Chevalier de St. Georges, for instance--have beennotorious favourites with the fair sex.

  So, in his humbler walk, was Mr. Gumbo. The Lambert servants wept freelyin his company; the maids kindly considered him not only as Mr. Harry'sman, but their brother. Hetty could not help laughing when she foundGumbo roaring because his master had gone a volumteer, as he called it,and had not taken him. He was ready to save Master Harry's life any day,and would have done it and had himself cut in twenty thousand hundredpieces for Master Harry, that he would! Meanwhile, Nature must besupported, and he condescended to fortify her by large supplies of beerand cold meat in the kitchen. That he was greedy, idle, and told lies,is certain; but yet Hetty gave him half a crown, and was especially kindto him. Her tongue, that was wont to wag so pertly, was so gentle now,that you might fancy it had never made a joke. She moved about the housemum and meek. She was humble to mamma; thankful to John and Betty whenthey waited at dinner; patient to Polly when the latter pulled her hairin combing it; long-suffering when Charley from school trod on hertoes, or deranged her workbox; silent in papa's company,--oh, such atransmogrified little Hetty! If papa had ordered her to roast the leg ofmutton, or walk to church arm-in-arm with Gumbo, she would have made acurtsey, and said, "Yes, if you please, dear papa!" Leg of mutton! Whatsort of meal were some poor volunteers having, with the cannon-ballsflying about their heads? Church! When it comes to the prayer in time ofwar, oh, how her knees smite together as she kneels, and hides her headin the pew! She holds down her head when the parson reads out, "Thoushalt do no murder," from the communion-rail, and fancies he must belooking at her. How she thinks of all travellers by land or by water!How she sickens as she runs to the paper to read if there is news of theExpedition! How she watches papa when he comes home from his OrdnanceOffice, and looks in his face to see if there is good news or bad! Ishe well? Is he made a General yet? Is he wounded and made a prisoner?ah me! or, perhaps, are both his legs taken off by one shot, like thatpensioner they saw in Chelsea Garden t'other day? She would go on woodenlegs all her life, if his can but bring him safe home; at least, sheought never to get up off her knees until he is returned. "Haven't youheard of people, Theo," says she, "whose hair has grown grey in a singlenight? I shouldn't wonder if mine did,--shouldn't wonder in the least."And she looks in the glass to ascertain that phenomenon.

  "Hetty dear, you used not to be so nervous when papa was away inMinorca," remarks Theo.

  "Ah, Theo! one may very well see that George is not with the army, butsafe at home," rejoins Hetty; whereat the elder sister blushes, andlooks very pensive. Au fait, if Mr. George had been in the army, that,you see, would have been another pair of boots. Meanwhile, we don'tintend to harrow anybody's kind feelings any longer, but may as wellstate that Harry is, for the present, as safe as any officer of the LifeGuards at Regent's Park Barracks.

  The first expedition in which our gallant volunteer was engaged may becalled successful, but certainly was not glorious. The British Lion,or any other lion, cannot always have a worthy enemy to combat, or abattle-royal to deliver. Suppose he goes forth in quest of a tiger whowon't come, and lays his paws on a goose, and gobbles him up? Lions, weknow, must live like any other animals. But suppose, advancing into theforest in search of the tiger aforesaid, and bellowing his challengeof war, he espies not one but six tigers coming towards him? Thismanifestly is not his game at all. He puts his tail between his royallegs, and retreats into his own snug den as quickly as he may. Were heto attempt to go and fight six tigers, you might write that Lion down anAss.

  Now, Harry Warrington's first feat of war was in this wise. He and about13,000 other fighting men embarked in various ships and transports onthe 1st of June, from the Isle of Wight, and at daybreak on the 5th thefleet stood in to the Bay of Cancale in Brittany. For a while he and thegentlemen volunteers had the pleasure of examining the French coastfrom their ships, whilst the Commander-in-Chief and the Commodorereconnoitred the bay in a cutter. Cattle were seen, and some dragoons,who trotted off into the distance; and a little fort with a coupleof guns had the audacity to fire at his Grace of Marlborough and theCommodore in the cutter. By two o'clock the whole British fleet was atanchor, and signal was made for all the grenadier companies of elevenregiments to embark on board flat-bottomed boats and assemble round theCommodore's ship, the Essex. Meanwhile, Mr. Howe, hoisting his broadpennant on board the Success frigate, went in as near as possible toshore, followed by the other frigates, to protect the landing ofthe troops; and, now, with Lord George Sackville and General Dury incommand, the gentlemen volunteers, the grenadier companies, and threebattalions of guards pulled to shore.

  The gentlemen volunteers could not do any heroic deed upon thisoccasion, because the French, who should have stayed to fight them, ranaway, and the frigates having silenced the fire of the little fort whichhad disturbed the reconnaissance of the Commander-in-Chief, the armypresently assaulted it, taking the whole garrison prisoner, and shootinghim in the leg. Indeed, he was but one old gentleman, who gallantly hadfired his two guns, and who told his conquerors, "If every Frenchman hadacted like me, you would not have landed at Cancale at all."

  The advanced detachment of invaders took possession of the village ofCancale, where they lay upon their arms all night; and our volunteer wasjoked by his comrades about his eagerness to go out upon the war-path,and bring in two or three scalps of Frenchmen. None such, however,fell under his tomahawk; the only person slain on the whole day being aFrench gentleman, who was riding with his servant, and was surprisedby volunteer Lord Downe, marching in the front with a company ofKingsley's. My Lord Downe offered the gentleman quarter, which hefoolishly refused, whereupon he, his servant, and the two horses, werestraightway shot.

  Next day the whole force was landed, and advanced from Cancale to St.Malo. All the villages were emptied through which the troops passed, andthe roads were so narrow in many places that the men had to march singlefile, and might have been shot down from behind the tall leafy hedgeshad there been any enemy to disturb them.

  At nightfall the army arrived before St. Malo, and were saluted bya fire of artillery from that town, which did little damage in thedarkness. Under cover of this, the British set fire to the ships, woodenbuildings, pitch and tar magazines in the harbour, and made a prodigiousconflagration that lasted the whole night.

  This feat was achieved without any attempt on the part of the French tomolest the British force: but, as it was confidently asserted that therewas a considerable French force in the town of St. Malo, though theywouldn't come out, his Grace the Duke of Marlborough and my Lord GeorgeSackville determined not to disturb the garrison, marched back toCancale again, and--and so got on board their ships.

  If this were not a veracious history, don't you see that it would havebeen easy to send our Virginian on a more glorious campaign? Exactlyfour weeks after his departure from England, Mr. Warrington foundhimself at Portsmouth again, and addressed a letter to his brotherGeorge, with which the latter ran off to Dean Street so soon as ever hereceived it.

  "Glorious news, ladies!" cries he, finding the Lambert family all atbreakfast. "Our champion has come back. He has undergone all sorts ofdangers, but has survived them all. He has seen dragons--upon my word,he says so."

  "Dragons! What do you mean, Mr. Warrington?"
r />   "But not killed any--he says so, as you shall hear. He writes:

  "'DEAREST BROTHER--I think you will be glad to hear that I am returned,without any commission as yet; without any wounds or glory; but,--at anyrate, alive and harty. On board our ship, we were almost as crowded aspoor Mr. Holwell and his friends in their Black Hole at Calicutta. Wehad rough weather, and some of the gentlemen volunteers, who prefersmooth water, grumbled not a little. My gentlemen's stomachs are dainty;and after Braund's cookery and White's kick-shaws, they don't like plainsailor's rum and bisket. But I, who have been at sea before, took myrations and can of flip very contentedly: being determined to put a goodface on everything before our fine English macaronis, and show that aVirginia gentleman is as good as the best of 'em. I wish, for the honourof old Virginia, that I had more to brag about. But all I can say intruth is, that we have been to France and come back again. Why, I don'tthink even your tragick pen could make anything of such a campaign asours has been. We landed on the 6 at Cancalle Bay, we saw a few dragonson a hill...'

  "There! Did I not tell you there were dragons?" asks George, laughing.

  "Mercy! What can he mean by dragons?" cries Hetty.

  "Immense, long-tailed monsters, with steel scales on their backs, whovomit fire, and gobble up a virgin a day. Haven't you read about them inThe Seven Champions?" says papa. "Seeing St. George's flag, I suppose,they slunk off."

  "I have read of 'em," says the little boy from Chartreux, solemnly."They like to eat women. One was going to eat Andromeda, you know, papa;and Jason killed another, who was guarding the apple-tree."

  "... A few dragons on a hill," George resumes, "who rode away from uswithout engaging. We slept under canvass. We marched to St. Malo, andburned ever so many privateers there. And we went on board shipp again,without ever crossing swords with an enemy or meeting any except afew poor devils whom the troops plundered. Better luck next time! Thishasn't been very much nor particular glorious: but I have liked it formy part. I have smelt powder, besides a good deal of rosn and pitch weburned. I've seen the enemy; have sleppt under canvass, and been dredfulcrowdid and sick at sea. I like it. My best compliments to dear AuntLambert, and tell Miss Hetty I wasn't very much fritened when I saw theFrench horse.--Your most affectionate brother, H. E. WARRINGTON."

  We hope Miss Hetty's qualms of conscience were allayed by Harry'sannouncement that his expedition was over, and that he had so far takenno hurt. Far otherwise. Mr. Lambert, in the course of his officialduties, had occasion to visit the troops at Portsmouth and the Isle ofWight, and George Warrington bore him company. They found Harry vastlyimproved in spirits and health from the excitement produced by thelittle campaign, quite eager and pleased to learn his new militaryduties, active, cheerful, and healthy, and altogether a different personfrom the listless moping lad who had dawdled in London coffee-houses andMrs. Lambert's drawing-room. The troops were under canvas; the weatherwas glorious, and George found his brother a ready pupil in a finebrisk open-air school of war. Not a little amused, the elder brother,arm-in-arm with the young volunteer, paced the streets of the warlikecity, recalled his own brief military experiences of two years back,and saw here a much greater army than that ill-fated one of which hehad shared the disasters. The expedition, such as we have seen it, wascertainly not glorious, and yet the troops and the nation were in highspirits with it. We were said to have humiliated the proud Gaul. Weshould have vanquished as well as humbled him had he dared to appear.What valour, after all, is like British valour? I dare say some suchexpressions have been heard in later times. Not that I would hint thatour people brag much more than any other, or more now than formerly.Have not these eyes beheld the battle-grounds of Leipzig, Jena, Dresden,Waterloo, Blenheim, Bunker's Hill, New Orleans? What heroic nation hasnot fought, has not conquered, has not run away, has not bragged in itsturn? Well, the British nation was much excited by the glorious victoryof St. Malo. Captured treasures were sent home and exhibited in London.The people were so excited, that more laurels and more victories weredemanded, and the enthusiastic army went forth to seek some.

  With this new expedition went a volunteer so distinguished, that we mustgive him precedence of all other amateur soldiers or sailors. This wasour sailor Prince, H.R.H. Prince Edward, who was conveyed on board theEssex in the ship's twelve-oared barge, the standard of England flyingin the bow of the boat, the Admiral with his flag and boat following thePrince's, and all the captains following in seniority.

  Away sails the fleet, Harry, in high health and spirits, waving his hatto his friends as they cheer from the shore. He must and will have hiscommission before long. There can be no difficulty about that, Georgethinks. There is plenty of money in his little store to buy hisbrother's ensigncy; but if he can win it without purchase by gallantryand good conduct, that were best. The colonel of the regiment reportshighly of his recruit; men and officers like him. It is easy to see thathe is a young fellow of good promise and spirit.

  Hip, hip, huzzay! What famous news are these which arrive ten days afterthe expedition has sailed? On the 7th and 8th of August his Majesty'stroops had effected a landing in the Bay des Marais, two leagueswestward of Cherbourg, in the face of a large body of the enemy. Awedby the appearance of British valour, that large body of the enemy hasdisappeared. Cherbourg has surrendered at discretion; and the Englishcolours are hoisted on the three outlying forts. Seven-and-twenty shipshave been burned in the harbours, and a prodigious number of fine brasscannon taken. As for your common iron guns, we have destroyed 'em,likewise the basin (about which the mounseers bragged so), and the twopiers at the entrance to the harbour.

  There is no end of jubilation in London; just as Mr. Howe's guns arrivefrom Cherbourg, come Mr. Wolfe's colours captured at Louisbourg. Thecolours are taken from Kensington to St Paul's, escorted by fourscorelife-guards and fourscore horse-grenadiers with officers in proportion,their standards, kettle-drums, and trumpets. At St. Paul's theyare received by the Dean and Chapter at the West Gate, and at thatminute--bang, bong, bung--the Tower and Park guns salute them! Next dayis the turn of the Cherbourg cannon and mortars. These are the gunswe took. Look at them with their carving and flaunting emblems--theirlilies, and crowns, and mottoes! Here they are, the Teneraire, theMalfaisant, the Vainqueur (the Vainqueur, indeed! a pretty vainqueur ofBritons!), and ever so many more. How the people shout as the piecesare trailed through the streets in procession! As for Hetty and Mrs.Lambert, I believe they are of opinion that Harry took every one of theguns himself, dragging them out of the batteries, and destroying theartillerymen. He has immensely risen in the general estimation in thelast few days. Madame de Bernstein has asked about him. Lady Maria hasbegged her dear cousin George to see her, and, if possible, give hernews of his brother. George, who was quite the head of the familya couple of months since, finds himself deposed, and of scarce anyaccount, in Miss Hetty's eyes at least. Your wit, and your learning, andyour tragedies, may be all very well; but what are these in comparisonto victories and brass cannon? George takes his deposition very meekly.They are fifteen thousand Britons. Why should they not march and takeParis itself? Nothing more probable, think some of the ladies. Theyembrace; they congratulate each other; they are in a high state ofexcitement. For once, they long that Sir Miles and Lady Warrington werein town, so that they might pay her ladyship a visit, and ask, "Whatdo you say to your nephew now, pray? Has he not taken twenty-one finestbrass cannon; flung a hundred and twenty iron guns into the water,seized twenty-seven ships in the harbour, and destroyed the basinand the two piers at the entrance?" As the whole town rejoices andilluminates, so these worthy folks display brilliant red hangings intheir cheeks, and light up candles of joy in their eyes, in honour oftheir champion and conqueror.

  But now, I grieve to say, comes a cloudy day after the fair weather. Theappetite of our commanders, growing by what it fed on, led them to thinkthey had not feasted enough on the plunder of St. Malo; and thither,after staying a brief time at Portsmouth and the Wight, the conquerorsof Cherbourg retur
ned. They were landed in the Bay of St. Lunar, ata distance of a few miles from the place, and marched towards it,intending to destroy it this time. Meanwhile the harbour of St. Lunarwas found insecure, and the fleet moved up to St. Cas, keeping up itscommunication with the invading army.

  Now the British Lion found that the town of St. Malo--which he hadproposed to swallow at a single mouthful--was guarded by an army ofFrench, which the Governor of Brittany had brought to the succour ofhis good town, and the meditated coup-de-main being thus impossible,our leaders marched for their ships again, which lay duly awaiting ourwarriors in the Bay of St. Cas.

  Hide, blushing glory, hide St. Cas's day! As our troops were marchingdown to their ships they became aware of an army following them, whichthe French governor of the province had sent from Brest. Two-thirdsof the troops, and all the artillery, were already embarked, when theFrenchmen came down upon the remainder. Four companies of the firstregiment of guards and the grenadier companies of the army, facedabout on the beach to await the enemy, whilst the remaining troops werecarried off in the boats. As the French descended from the heights roundthe bay, these guards and grenadiers marched out to attack them, leavingan excellent position which they had occupied--a great dyke raised onthe shore, and behind which they might have resisted to advantage. Andnow, eleven hundred men were engaged with six--nay, ten times theirnumber; and, after a while, broke and made for the boats with a sauvequi peut! Seven hundred out of the eleven were killed, drowned, ortaken prisoners--the General himself was killed--and, ah! where were thevolunteers?

  A man of peace myself, and little intelligent of the practice or thedetails of war, I own I think less of the engaged troops than of thepeople they leave behind. Jack the Guardsman and La Tulipe of the RoyalBretagne are face to face, and striving to knock each other's brainsout. Bon! It is their nature to--like the bears and lions--and we willnot say Heaven, but some power or other has made them so to do. But thegirl of Tower Hill, who hung on Jack's neck before he departed; and thelass at Quimper, who gave the Frenchman his brule-gueule and tobacco-boxbefore he departed on the noir trajet? What have you done, poor littletender hearts, that you should grieve so? My business is not with thearmy, but with the people left behind. What a fine state Miss HettyLambert must be in, when she hears of the disaster to the troops and theslaughter of the grenadier companies! What grief and doubt are in GeorgeWarrington's breast; what commiseration in Martin Lambert's, as he looksinto his little girl's face and reads her piteous story there! Howe, thebrave Commodore, rowing in his barge under the enemy's fire, has rescuedwith his boats scores and scores of our flying people. More are drowned;hundreds are prisoners, or shot on the beach. Among these, where is ourVirginian?