The Two Admirals

by James Fenimore Cooper

"Did you wish to say any thing more, sir?"

"When you write, remember me kindly to the Duchess. We were intimate, when young people; and, I might say, loved each other."

The midshipman promised to do as desired; then the rear-admiral was left alone. He walked the cabin, for half an hour, musing on what he had done in relation to his property, and on what he ought to do, in relation to the Pretender; when he suddenly summoned his coxswain, gave a few directions, and sent an order on deck to have his barge manned. The customary reports went their usual rounds, and reached the cabin in about three minutes more; Lord Geoffrey bringing them down, again.

"The barge is manned, sir," said the lad, standing near the cabin-door, rigged out in the neat, go-ashore-clothes of a midshipman.

"Have you seen Captain Stowel, my lord?" demanded the rear-admiral.

"I have, sir; and he has given me permission to drift along shore, until sunset; to be off with the evening gun of the vice-admiral."

"Then do me the favour to take a seat in my barge, if you are quite ready."

This offer was accepted, and, in a few minutes, all the ceremonies of the deck had been observed, and the rear-admiral was seated in his barge. It was now so late, that etiquette had fair play, and no point was omitted on the occasion. The captain was on deck, in person, as well as gun-room officers enough to represent their body; the guard was paraded, under its officers; the drums rolled; the boatswain piped six side boys over, and Lord Geoffrey skipped down first into the boat, remaining respectfully standing, until his superior was seated. All these punctilios observed, the boat was shoved off from the vessel's side, the eight oars dropped, as one, and the party moved towards the shore. Every cutter, barge, yawl, or launch that was met, and which did not contain an officer of rank itself, tossed its oars, as this barge, with the rear-admiral's flag fluttering in its bow, passed, while the others lay on theirs, the gentlemen saluting with their hats. In this manner the barge passed the fleet, and approached the shore. At the landing, a little natural quay formed by a low flat rock, there was a general movement, as the rear-admiral's flag was seen to draw near; and even the boats of captains were shoved aside, to give the naval pas. As soon, however, as the foot of Bluewater touched the rock, the little flag was struck; and, a minute later, a cutter, with only a lieutenant in her, coming in, that officer ordered the barge to make way for him, with an air of high and undisputed authority.

Perhaps there was not a man in the British marine, to whom the etiquette of the service gave less concern, than to Bluewater. In this respect, he was the very reverse of his friend; for Sir Gervaise was a punctilious observer, and a rigid enforcer of all the prescribed ceremonials. This was by no means the only professional point on which these two distinguished officers differed. It has already been mentioned, that the rear-admiral was the best tactician in England, while the vice-admiral was merely respectable in that branch of his duty. On the other hand, Sir Gervaise was deemed the best practical seaman afloat, so far as a single ship was concerned, while Bluewater had no particular reputation in that way. Then, as to discipline, the same distinction existed. The commander-in-chief was a little of a martinet, exacting compliance with the most minute regulations; while his friend, even when a captain, had thrown the police duty of his ship very much on what is called the executive officer: or the first lieutenant; leaving to that important functionary, the duty of devising, as well as of executing the system by which order and cleanliness were maintained in the vessel. Nevertheless, Bluewater had his merit even in this peculiar feature of the profession. He had made the best captain of the fleet to his friend, that had ever been met with. This office, which, in some measure, corresponds to that of an adjutant-general on shore, was suited to his generalizing and philosophical turn of mind; and he had brought all its duties within the circle and control of clear and simple principles, which rendered them pleasant and easy. Then, too, whenever he commanded in chief, as frequently happened, for a week or two at a time, Sir Gervaise being absent, it was remarked that the common service of the fleet went on like clock-work; his mind seeming to embrace generals, when it refused to descend to details. In consequence of these personal peculiarities, the captains often observed, that Bluewater ought to have been the senior, and Oakes the junior; and then, their joint commands would have produced perfection; but these criticisms must be set down, in a great measure, to the natural propensity to find fault, and an inherent desire in men, even when things are perfectly well in themselves, to prove their own superiority, by pointing out modes and means by which they might be made much better. Had the service been on land, this opinion might possibly have had more practical truth in it; but, the impetuosity and daring of Sir Gervaise, were not bad substitutes for tactics, in the straight-forward combats of ships. To resume the narrative.

When Bluewater landed, he returned the profound and general salute of all on or near the rock, by a sweeping, but courteous bow, which was nevertheless given in a vacant, slovenly manner; and immediately began to ascend the ravine. He had actually reached the grassy acclivity above, before he was at all aware of any person's being near him. Turning, he perceived that the midshipman was at his heels, respect alone preventing one of the latter's active limbs and years from skipping past his superior on the ascent. The admiral recollected how little there was to amuse one of the boy's habits in a place like Wychecombe, and he good-naturedly determined to take him along with himself.