Chapter V. I Go On The Vigo Bay Expedition, Taste Salt Water And SmellPowder
The first expedition in which Mr. Esmond had the honour to be engaged,rather resembled one of the invasions projected by the redoubted CaptainAvory or Captain Kid, than a war between crowned heads, carried on bygenerals of rank and honour. On the 1st day of July, 1702, a great fleet,of a hundred and fifty sail, set sail from Spithead, under the command ofAdmiral Shovell, having on board 12,000 troops, with his grace the Duke ofOrmond as the captain-general of the expedition. One of these 12,000heroes having never been to sea before, or, at least, only once in hisinfancy, when he made the voyage to England from that unknown countrywhere he was born--one of those 12,000--the junior ensign of Colonel Quin'sregiment of Fusiliers--was in a quite unheroic state of corporalprostration a few hours after sailing; and an enemy, had he boarded theship, would have had easy work of him. From Portsmouth we put intoPlymouth, and took in fresh reinforcements. We were off Finisterre on the31st of July, so Esmond's table-book informs him; and on the 8th of Augustmade the rock of Lisbon. By this time the ensign was grown as bold as anadmiral, and a week afterwards had the fortune to be under fire for thefirst time--and under water, too--his boat being swamped in the surf inToros Bay, where the troops landed. The ducking of his new coat was allthe harm the young soldier got in this expedition, for, indeed, theSpaniards made no stand before our troops, and were not in strength to doso.
But the campaign, if not very glorious, was very pleasant. New sights ofnature, by sea and land--a life of action, beginning now for the firsttime--occupied and excited the young man. The many accidents, and theroutine of ship-board--the military duty--the new acquaintances, both of hiscomrades in arms, and of the officers of the fleet--served to cheer andoccupy his mind, and waken it out of that selfish depression into whichhis late unhappy fortunes had plunged him. He felt as if the oceanseparated him from his past care, and welcomed the new era of life whichwas dawning for him. Wounds heal rapidly in a heart of two-and-twenty;hopes revive daily; and courage rallies, in spite of a man. Perhaps, asEsmond thought of his late despondency and melancholy, and howirremediable it had seemed to him, as he lay in his prison a few monthsback, he was almost mortified in his secret mind at finding himself socheerful.
To see with one's own eyes men and countries, is better than reading allthe books of travel in the world: and it was with extreme delight andexultation that the young man found himself actually on his grand tour,and in the view of people and cities which he had read about as a boy. Hebeheld war for the first time--the pride, pomp, and circumstance of it, atleast, if not much of the danger. He saw actually, and with his own eyes,those Spanish cavaliers and ladies whom he had beheld in imagination inthat immortal story of Cervantes, which had been the delight of hisyouthful leisure. 'Tis forty years since Mr. Esmond witnessed thosescenes, but they remain as fresh in his memory as on the day when first hesaw them as a young man. A cloud, as of grief, that had lowered over him,and had wrapped the last years of his life in gloom, seemed to clear awayfrom Esmond during this fortunate voyage and campaign. His energies seemedto awaken and to expand, under a cheerful sense of freedom. Was his heartsecretly glad to have escaped from that fond but ignoble bondage at home?Was it that the inferiority to which the idea of his base birth hadcompelled him, vanished with the knowledge of that secret, which though,perforce, kept to himself, was yet enough to cheer and console him? At anyrate, young Esmond of the army was quite a different being to the sadlittle dependant of the kind Castlewood household, and the melancholystudent of Trinity Walks; discontented with his fate, and with thevocation into which that drove him, and thinking, with a secretindignation, that the cassock and bands, and the very sacred office withwhich he had once proposed to invest himself, were, in fact, but marks ofa servitude which was to continue all his life long. For, disguise it ashe might to himself, he had all along felt that to be Castlewood'schaplain was to be Castlewood's inferior still, and that his life was butto be a long, hopeless servitude. So, indeed, he was far from grudging hisold friend Tom Tusher's good fortune (as Tom, no doubt, thought it). Hadit been a mitre and Lambeth which his friends offered him, and not a smallliving and a country parsonage, he would have felt as much a slave in onecase as in the other, and was quite happy and thankful to be free.
The bravest man I ever knew in the army, and who had been present in mostof King William's actions, as well as in the campaigns of the great Dukeof Marlborough, could never be got to tell us of any achievement of his,except that once Prince Eugene ordered him up a tree to reconnoitre theenemy, which feat he could not achieve on account of the horseman's bootshe wore; and on another day that he was very nearly taken prisoner becauseof these jackboots, which prevented him from running away. The presentnarrator shall imitate this laudable reserve, and doth not intend to dwellupon his military exploits, which were in truth not very different fromthose of a thousand other gentlemen. This first campaign of Mr. Esmond'slasted but a few days; and as a score of books have been writtenconcerning it, it may be dismissed very briefly here.
When our fleet came within view of Cadiz, our commander sent a boat with awhite flag and a couple of officers to the Governor of Cadiz, Don Scipiode Brancaccio, with a letter from his grace, in which he hoped that as DonScipio had formerly served with the Austrians against the French inEngland, 'twas to be hoped that his excellency would now declare himselfagainst the French king and for the Austrian in the war between KingPhilip and King Charles. But his excellency, Don Scipio, prepared a reply,in which he announced that, having served his former king with honour andfidelity, he hoped to exhibit the same loyalty and devotion towards hispresent sovereign, King Philip V; and by the time this letter was ready,the officers who had been taken to see the town, and the Alameda, and thetheatre, where bull-fights are fought, and the convents, where theadmirable works of Don Bartholomew Murillo inspired one of them with agreat wonder and delight--such as he had never felt before--concerning thisdivine art of painting; and these sights over, and a handsome refectionand chocolate being served to the English gentlemen, they were accompaniedback to their shallop with every courtesy, and were the only two officersof the English army that saw at that time that famous city.
The general tried the power of another proclamation on the Spaniards, inwhich he announced that we only came in the interest of Spain and KingCharles, and for ourselves wanted to make no conquest nor settlement inSpain at all. But all this eloquence was lost upon the Spaniards, it wouldseem: the Captain-General of Andalusia would no more listen to us than theGovernor of Cadiz; and in reply to his grace's proclamation, the Marquisof Villadarias fired off another, which those who knew the Spanish thoughtrather the best of the two; and of this number was Harry Esmond, whosekind Jesuit in old days had instructed him, and now had the honour oftranslating for his grace these harmless documents of war. There was ahard touch for his grace, and, indeed, for other generals in her Majesty'sservice, in the concluding sentence of the Don: "That he and his councilhad the generous example of their ancestors to follow, who had never yetsought their elevation in the blood or in the flight of their kings.'_Mori pro patria_' was his device, which the duke might communicate tothe princess who governed England."
Whether the troops were angry at this repartee or no, 'tis certainsomething put them in a fury; for, not being able to get possession ofCadiz, our people seized upon Port St. Mary's and sacked it, burning downthe merchants' storehouses, getting drunk with the famous wines there,pillaging and robbing quiet houses and convents, murdering and doingworse. And the only blood which Mr. Esmond drew in this shameful campaign,was the knocking down an English sentinel with a half-pike, who wasoffering insult to a poor trembling nun. Is she going to turn out abeauty? or a princess? or perhaps Esmond's mother that he had lost andnever seen? Alas no, it was but a poor wheezy old dropsical woman, with awart on her nose. But having been early taught a part of the Romanreligion, he never had the horror of it that some Protestants have shown,and seem to think to
be a part of ours.
After the pillage and plunder of St. Mary's, and an assault upon a fort ortwo, the troops all took shipping, and finished their expedition, at anyrate, more brilliantly than it had begun. Hearing that the French fleetwith a great treasure was in Vigo Bay, our admirals, Rooke and Hopson,pursued the enemy thither; the troops landed and carried the forts thatprotected the bay, Hopson passing the boom first on board his ship the_Torbay_, and the rest of the ships, English and Dutch, following him.Twenty ships were burned or taken in the port of Redondilla, and a vastdeal more plunder than was ever accounted for; but poor men before thatexpedition were rich afterwards, and so often was it found and remarkedthat the Vigo officers came home with pockets full of money, that thenotorious Jack Shafto, who made such a figure at the coffee-houses andgaming-tables in London, and gave out that he had been a soldier at Vigo,owned, when he was about to be hanged, that Bagshot Heath had been hisVigo, and that he only spoke of La Redondilla to turn away people's eyesfrom the real place where the booty lay. Indeed, Hounslow or Vigo--whichmatters much? The latter was a bad business, though Mr. Addison did singits praises in Latin. That honest gentleman's muse had an eye to the mainchance; and I doubt whether she saw much inspiration in the losing side.
But though Esmond, for his part, got no share of this fabulous booty, onegreat prize which he had out of the campaign was, that excitement ofaction and change of scene, which shook off a great deal of his previousmelancholy. He learnt at any rate to bear his fate cheerfully. He broughtback a browned face, a heart resolute enough, and a little pleasant storeof knowledge and observation, from that expedition, which was over withthe autumn, when the troops were back in England again; and Esmond givingup his post of secretary to General Lumley, whose command was over, andparting with that officer with many kind expressions of goodwill on thegeneral's side, had leave to go to London, to see if he could push hisfortunes any way further, and found himself once more in his dowageraunt's comfortable quarters at Chelsey, and in greater favour than everwith the old lady. He propitiated her with a present of a comb, a fan, anda black mantle, such as the ladies of Cadiz wear, and which my ladyviscountess pronounced became her style of beauty mightily. And she wasgreatly edified at hearing of that story of his rescue of the nun, andfelt very little doubt but that her King James's relic, which he hadalways dutifully worn in his desk, had kept him out of danger, and avertedthe shot of the enemy. My lady made feasts for him, introduced him to morecompany, and pushed his fortunes with such enthusiasm and success, thatshe got a promise of a company for him through the Lady Marlborough'sinterest, who was graciously pleased to accept of a diamond worth a coupleof hundred guineas, which Mr. Esmond was enabled to present to herladyship through his aunt's bounty, and who promised that she would takecharge of Esmond's fortune. He had the honour to make his appearance atthe queen's drawing-room occasionally, and to frequent my LordMarlborough's levees. That great man received the young one with veryespecial favour, so Esmond's comrades said, and deigned to say that he hadreceived the best reports of Mr. Esmond, both for courage and ability,whereon you may be sure the young gentleman made a profound bow, andexpressed himself eager to serve under the most distinguished captain inthe world.
Whilst his business was going on thus prosperously, Esmond had his shareof pleasure, too, and made his appearance along with other young gentlemenat the coffee-houses, the theatres, and the Mall. He longed to hear of hisdear mistress and her family: many a time, in the midst of the gaietiesand pleasures of the town, his heart fondly reverted to them; and often asthe young fellows of his society were making merry at the tavern, andcalling toasts (as the fashion of that day was) over their wine, Esmondthought of persons--of two fair women, whom he had been used to adorealmost, and emptied his glass with a sigh.
By this time the elder viscountess had grown tired again of the younger,and whenever she spoke of my lord's widow, 'twas in terms by no meanscomplimentary towards that poor lady: the younger woman not needing herprotection any longer, the elder abused her. Most of the family quarrelsthat I have seen in life (saving always those arising from money disputes,when a division of twopence-halfpenny will often drive the dearestrelatives into war and estrangement), spring out of jealousy and envy.Jack and Tom, born of the same family and to the same fortune, live verycordially together, not until Jack is ruined when Tom deserts him, butuntil Tom makes a sudden rise in prosperity, which Jack can't forgive. Tentimes to one 'tis the unprosperous man that is angry, not the other who isin fault. 'Tis Mrs. Jack, who can only afford a chair that sickens at Mrs.Tom's new coach-and-six, cries out against her sister's airs, and sets herhusband against his brother. 'Tis Jack who sees his brother shaking handswith a lord (with whom Jack would like to exchange snuff-boxes himself),that goes home and tells his wife how poor Tom is spoiled, he fears, andno better than a sneak, parasite, and beggar on horseback. I remember howfurious the coffee-house wits were with Dick Steele when he set up hiscoach, and fine house in Bloomsbury: they began to forgive him when thebailiffs were after him, and abused Mr. Addison for selling Dick'scountry-house. And yet Dick in the spunging-house, or Dick in the Park,with his four mares and plated harness, was exactly the same gentle,kindly, improvident, jovial Dick Steele: and yet Mr. Addison was perfectlyright in getting the money which was his, and not giving up the amount ofhis just claim, to be spent by Dick upon champagne and fiddlers, lacedclothes, fine furniture, and parasites, Jew and Christian, male andfemale, who clung to him. As, according to the famous maxim of Monsieur deRochefoucault, "in our friends' misfortunes there's something secretlypleasant to us"; so, on the other hand, their good fortune isdisagreeable. If 'tis hard for a man to bear his own good luck, 'tisharder still for his friends to bear it for him; and but few of themordinarily can stand that trial: whereas one of the "precious uses" ofadversity is, that it is a great reconciler; that it brings back avertedkindness, disarms animosity, and causes yesterday's enemy to fling hishatred aside, and hold out a hand to the fallen friend of old days.There's pity and love, as well as envy, in the same heart and towards thesame person. The rivalry stops when the competitor tumbles; and, as I viewit, we should look at these agreeable and disagreeable qualities of ourhumanity humbly alike. They are consequent and natural, and our kindnessand meanness both manly.
So you may either read the sentence, that the elder of Esmond's twokinswomen pardoned the younger her beauty, when that had lost somewhat ofits freshness, perhaps; and forgot most her grievances against the other,when the subject of them was no longer prosperous and enviable; or we maysay more benevolently (but the sum comes to the same figures, workedeither way), that Isabella repented of her unkindness towards Rachel, whenRachel was unhappy; and, bestirring herself in behalf of the poor widowand her children, gave them shelter and friendship. The ladies were quitegood friends as long as the weaker one needed a protector. Before Esmondwent away on his first campaign, his mistress was still on terms offriendship (though a poor little chit, a woman that had evidently nospirit in her, &c.) with the elder Lady Castlewood; and Mistress Beatrixwas allowed to be a beauty.
But between the first year of Queen Anne's reign, and the second, sadchanges for the worse had taken place in the two younger ladies, at leastin the elder's description of them. Rachel, Viscountess Castlewood, had nomore face than a dumpling, and Mrs. Beatrix was grown quite coarse, andwas losing all her beauty. Little Lord Blandford (she never would call himLord Blandford; his father was Lord Churchill--the king, whom he betrayed,had made him Lord Churchill, and he was Lord Churchill still)--might bemaking eyes at her; but his mother, that vixen of a Sarah Jennings, wouldnever hear of such a folly. Lady Marlborough had got her to be a maid ofhonour at Court to the princess, but she would repent of it. The widowFrancis (she was but Mrs. Francis Esmond) was a scheming, artful,heartless hussy. She was spoiling her brat of a boy, and she would end bymarrying her chaplain.
"What, Tusher?" cried Mr. Esmond, feeling a strange pang of rage andastonishment.
"Yes--Tusher, my maid's so
n; and who has got all the qualities of hisfather, the lackey in black, and his accomplished mamma, thewaiting-woman," cries my lady. "What, do you suppose that a sentimentalwidow, who will live down in that dingy dungeon of a Castlewood, where shespoils her boy, kills the poor with her drugs, has prayers twice a day andsees nobody but the chaplain--what do you suppose she can do, _mon cousin_,but let the horrid parson, with his great square toes, and hideous littlegreen eyes, make love to her? _Cela c'est vu, mon cousin._ When I was agirl at Castlewood, all the chaplains fell in love with me--they've nothingelse to do."
My lady went on with more talk of this kind, though, in truth, Esmond hadno idea of what she said further, so entirely did her first words occupyhis thought. Were they true? Not all, nor half, nor a tenth part of whatthe garrulous old woman said, was true. Could this be so? No ear hadEsmond for anything else, though his patroness chattered on for an hour.
Some young gentlemen of the town, with whom Esmond had made acquaintance,had promised to present him to that most charming of actresses, and livelyand agreeable of women, Mrs. Bracegirdle, about whom Harry's old adversaryMohun had drawn swords, a few years before my poor lord and he fell out.The famous Mr. Congreve had stamped with his high approval, to the whichthere was no gainsaying, this delightful person: and she was acting inDick Steele's comedies, and finally, and for twenty-four hours afterbeholding her, Mr. Esmond felt himself, or thought himself, to be asviolently enamoured of this lovely brunette, as were a thousand otheryoung fellows about the city. To have once seen her was to long to beholdher again; and to be offered the delightful privilege of her acquaintance,was a pleasure the very idea of which set the young lieutenant's heart onfire. A man cannot live with comrades under the tents without finding outthat he too is five-and-twenty. A young fellow cannot be cast down bygrief and misfortune ever so severe but some night he begins to sleepsound, and some day when dinner-time comes to feel hungry for a beefsteak.Time, youth, and good health, new scenes and the excitement of action anda campaign, had pretty well brought Esmond's mourning to an end; and hiscomrades said that Don Dismal, as they called him, was Don Dismal no more.So when a party was made to dine at the "Rose", and go to the playhouseafterward, Esmond was as pleased as another to take his share of thebottle and the play.
How was it that the old aunt's news, or it might be scandal, about TomTusher, caused such a strange and sudden excitement in Tom's oldplayfellow? Hadn't he sworn a thousand times in his own mind that the ladyof Castlewood, who had treated him with such kindness once, and then hadleft him so cruelly, was, and was to remain henceforth, indifferent to himfor ever? Had his pride and his sense of justice not long since helped himto cure the pain of that desertion--was it even a pain to him now? Why, butlast night as he walked across the fields and meadows to Chelsey from PallMall, had he not composed two or three stanzas of a song, celebratingBracegirdle's brown eyes, and declaring them a thousand times morebeautiful than the brightest blue ones that ever languished under thelashes of an insipid fair beauty! But Tom Tusher! Tom Tusher, thewaiting-woman's son, raising up his little eyes to his mistress! TomTusher presuming to think of Castlewood's widow! Rage and contempt filledMr. Harry's heart at the very notion; the honour of the family, of whichhe was the chief, made it his duty to prevent so monstrous an alliance,and to chastise the upstart who could dare to think of such an insult totheir house. 'Tis true Mr. Esmond often boasted of republican principles,and could remember many fine speeches he had made at college andelsewhere, with _worth_ and not _birth_ for a text: but Tom Tusher to takethe place of the noble Castlewood--faugh! 'twas as monstrous as KingHamlet's widow taking off her weeds for Claudius. Esmond laughed at allwidows, all wives, all women; and were the banns about to be published, asno doubt they were, that very next Sunday at Walcote Church, Esmond sworethat he would be present to shout No! in the face of the congregation, andto take a private revenge upon the ears of the bridegroom.
Instead of going to dinner then at the "Rose" that night, Mr. Esmond badehis servant pack a portmanteau and get horses, and was at Farnham,half-way on the road to Walcote, thirty miles off, before his comrades hadgot to their supper after the play. He bade his man give no hint to mylady dowager's household of the expedition on which he was going: and asChelsey was distant from London, the roads bad, and infested by footpads,and Esmond often in the habit, when engaged in a party of pleasure, oflying at a friend's lodging in town, there was no need that his old auntshould be disturbed at his absence--indeed, nothing more delighted the oldlady than to fancy that _mon cousin_, the incorrigible young sinner, wasabroad boxing the watch, or scouring St. Giles's. When she was not at herbooks of devotion, she thought Etheridge and Sedley very good reading. Shehad a hundred pretty stories about Rochester, Harry Jermyn, and Hamilton;and if Esmond would but have run away with the wife even of a citizen,'tis my belief she would have pawned her diamonds (the best of them wentto our Lady of Chaillot) to pay his damages.
My lord's little house of Walcote, which he inhabited before he took histitle and occupied the house of Castlewood--lies about a mile fromWinchester, and his widow had returned to Walcote after my lord's death asa place always dear to her, and where her earliest and happiest days hadbeen spent, cheerfuller than Castlewood, which was too large for herstraitened means, and giving her, too, the protection of the ex-dean, herfather. The young viscount had a year's schooling at the famous collegethere, with Mr. Tusher as his governor. So much news of them Mr. Esmondhad had during the past year from the old viscountess, his own father'swidow; from the young one there had never been a word.
Twice or thrice in his benefactor's lifetime, Esmond had been to Walcote;and now, taking but a couple of hours' rest only at the inn on the road,he was up again long before daybreak, and made such good speed that he wasat Walcote by two o'clock of the day. He rid to the inn of the village,where he alighted and sent a man thence to Mr. Tusher, with a message thata gentleman from London would speak with him on urgent business. Themessenger came back to say the doctor was in town, most likely at prayersin the cathedral. My lady viscountess was there too; she always went tocathedral prayers every day.
The horses belonged to the post-house at Winchester. Esmond mounted again,and rode on to the "George"; whence he walked, leaving his grumblingdomestic at last happy with a dinner, straight to the cathedral. The organwas playing: the winter's day was already growing grey: as he passed underthe street-arch into the cathedral-yard, and made his way into the ancientsolemn edifice.