The King's Own Part 39

It is generally considered that men are _naturally brave_; but as, without some incentive, there would be no courage, I doubt the position.

I should rather say that we were naturally cowards. Without incitement, courage of every description would gradually descend to the zero of the scale; the necessity of some incentive to produce it, proves that it is "against nature." As the ferocity of brutes is occasioned by hunger, so is that of man by "hungering" after the coveted enjoyments of life, and in proportion as this appet.i.te is appeased, so is his courage decreased. If you wish animals to fight, they must not be over-fed; and if a nation wishes to have good officers, it must swell their pride by decorations, and keep them poor. There are few who do not recollect the answer of the soldier to his general, who had presented him with a purse of gold, in reward of a remarkable instance of gallantry, and who, a short time afterwards, requiring something extremely hazardous to be attempted, sent for the man, and expressed his wish that he would volunteer. "General," said he, "send a man who has NOT GOT a purse of gold."

The strongest incitement to courage is withdrawn by the possession of wealth. Other worldly possessions also affect it. Lord St. Vincent, when he heard that any captain had married, used to observe, emphatically, "that he was d.a.m.ned for the service,"--no compliment to the officer, but a very handsome one to the s.e.x, as it implied that their attractions were so great, that we could not disengage ourselves from our thraldom, or, in fact, that there were no such things as bad or scolding wives.

Finally, this _quality_, which is considered as a _virtue_, and to ent.i.tle us to the rewards bestowed upon it by the fair s.e.x, who value it above all others, is so wholly out of our control, that when suffering under sickness or disease, it deserts us; nay, for the time being, a violent stomach-ache will turn a hero into a poltroon.

So much for a dissertation on courage, which I should not have ventured to force upon the reader, had it not been to prepare him for the character which I am about to introduce; and when it is pointed out how many thousands of officers were employed during the last war, I trust it will not be considered an imputation upon the service, by a.s.serting that there were some few who _mistook their profession_.

The acting captain of the _Aspasia_, during the early part of his career in the service (had there been such a thermometer as I have described, by which the heat of temperament in the party would have been precisely ascertained), on placing its bulb upon the palm of his hand, would have forced the mercury something between the zero and courage negative, towards the zero--"more yes than no," as the Italian said; but now that he was a married man, above fifty years of age, with a large family, he had descended in the scale to the absolute zero.

It may, then, be inquired, why he requested to be employed during the war? Because he liked full pay and prize-money when it could be obtained without risk, and because his wife and family were living on sh.o.r.e in a very snug little cottage at Ryde, in the Isle of Wight, which cottage required nothing but furniture and a few other trifles to render it complete. Marriage had not only subtracted from the courage of this worthy officer, but, moreover, a little from his honesty. Captain Capperbar (for such was his name) should have been brought up as a missionary, for he could _canvert_ anything, and _expend_ more profusely than any Bible Society. The name by which he had christened his domicile was probably given as a sort of salvo to his conscience. He called it the "_s.h.i.+p_;" and when he signed his name to the expense books of the different warrant officers, without specifying the exact use to which the materials were applied, the larger proportions were invariably expended, by the general term, for "_s.h.i.+p's_ use." He came into harbour as often as he could, always had a demand for stores to complete, and a defect or two for the dockyard to make good, and the admiral, who was aware of Mr Capperbar being a near resident, made every reasonable allowance for his partiality to Spithead. But we had better introduce the captain, sitting at his table in the fore-cabin, on the day of his arrival in port, the carpenter having obeyed his summons.

"Well, Mr Cheeks, what are the carpenters about?"

"Weston and Smallbridge are going on with the chairs--the whole of them will be finished tomorrow."

"Well?"

"Smith is about the chest of drawers, to match the one in my Lady Capperbar's bed-room."

"Very good. And what is Hilton about?"

"He has finished the spare-leaf of the dining-table, sir; he is now about a little job for the second-lieutenant."

"A job for the second-lieutenant, sir? How often have I told you, Mr Cheeks, that the carpenters are not to be employed, except on s.h.i.+p's duty, without my special permission."

"His standing bed-place is broke, sir; he is only getting out a chock or two."

"Mr Cheeks, you have disobeyed my most positive orders.--By the bye, sir, I understand you were not sober last night."

"Please your honour," replied the carpenter, "I wasn't drunk--I was only a little fresh."

"Take you care, Mr Cheeks. Well, now, what are the rest of your crew about?"

"Why, Thompson and Waters are cutting out the pales for the garden, out of the jib-booms; I've saved the heel to return."

"Very well, but there won't be enough, will there?"

"No, sir, it will take a hand-mast to finish the whole."

"Then we must expend one when we go out again. We can carry away a topmast, and make a new one out of the hand-mast at sea. In the meantime, if the sawyers have nothing to do, they may as well cut the palings at once. And now, let me see--oh! the painters must go on sh.o.r.e, to finish the attics."

"Yes, sir, but my Lady Capperbar wishes the _jealowsees_ to be painted vermilion: she says, it will look more rural."

"Mrs Capperbar ought to _know enough_ about s.h.i.+p's stores, by this time, to be aware that we are only allowed three colours. She may choose or mix them as she pleases; but as for going to the expense of buying paint, I can't afford it. What are the rest of the men about?"

"Repairing, the second cutter, and making a new mast for the pinnace."

"By the bye--that puts me in mind of it--have you expended any boat's masts?"

"Only the one carried away, sir."

"Then you must expend two more. Mrs C--- has just sent me off a list of a few things that she wishes made, while we are at anchor, and I see two poles for clothes-lines. Saw off the sheave-holes, and put two pegs through at right angles--you know how I mean."

"Yes, sir. What am I to do, sir, about the cuc.u.mber frame? My Lady Capperbar says that she must have it, and I haven't gla.s.s enough--they grumbled at the yard last time."

"Mrs C--- must wait a little. What are the armourers' about?"

"They have been so busy with your work, sir, that the arms are in a very bad condition. The first-lieutenant said yesterday that they were a disgrace to the s.h.i.+p."

"Who dared say that?"

"The first-lieutenant, sir."

"Well, then, let them rub up the arms, and let me know when they are done, and we'll get the forge up."

"The armourer has made six rakes, and six hoes, and the two little hoes for the children; but he says he can't make a spade."

"Then I'll take his warrant away, by Heaven! since he does not know his duty. That will do, Mr Cheeks. I shall overlook your being in liquor, this time; but take care--send the boatswain to me."

"Yes sir," and the carpenter quitted the cabin.

"Well, Mr Hurley," said the Captain, as the boatswain stroked down his hair, as a mark of respect, when he entered the cabin, "are the cots all finished?"

"All finished, your honour, and slung, except the one for the _babby_.

Had not I better get a piece of duck for that?"

"No, no--number seven will do as well; Mrs C--- wants some _fearnought_, to put down in the entrance hall."

"Yes, your honour."

"And some cod-lines laid up for clothes-lines."

"Yes, your honour."

"Stop, let me look at my list--'Knife-tray, meat-screen, leads for window-sashes,'--Ah! have you any hand-leads not on charge?"

"Yes, your honour, four or five."

"Give them to my steward.--'Small chair for Ellen--canvas for veranda.'--Oh! here's something else--have you any painted canvas?"

"Only a waist-hammock-cloth, sir, ready fitted."

"We must expend that; 'no old on charge.' Send it on sh.o.r.e to the cottage, and I shall want some pitch."

"We've lots of that, your honour."

"That will do, Mr Hurley; desire the sentry to tell my steward to come here."