Newton Forster

"He is at the mast-head, sir," replied the first lieutenant, "for neglect of duty."

"Really, Mr W–," replied the captain, who had witnessed the boy's ascent at least a hundred times before with perfect indifference, and had often sent him up himself, "you appear to be very sharp upon that poor lad; you make no allowance for youth—boys will be boys."

"He's the most troublesome young monkey in the ship, sir," replied the first lieutenant, surprised at this unusual interference.

"He has always appeared to me to be a well-disposed, intelligent lad, Mr W–; and I wish you to understand that I do not approve of this system of eternal mast-heading. However, he will not trouble you any more, as his discharge is to be immediately made out. He is now," continued the captain, pausing to give more effect to his communication, "Lord Aveleyn."

"Whew! now the murder's out," mentally exclaimed the first lieutenant.

"Call him down immediately, Mr W–, if you please—and recollect that I disapprove of the system."

"Certainly, sir; but really, Captain L–, I don't know what I shall do if you restrict my power of punishing the young gentlemen; they are so extremely unruly. There's Mr Malcolm," continued the first lieutenant, pointing to a youngster who was walking on the other side of the deck, with his hands in his pockets, "it was but yesterday that he chopped off at least four inches from the tail of your dog 'Ponto' at the beef-block, and pretends it was an accident."

"What! my setter's tail?"

"Yes, sir, he did, I can assure you."

"Mr Malcolm," cried the captain, in great wrath, "how came you to cut off my dog's tail?"

Before I went to sea I had always considered a London cock-sparrow to be the truest emblem of consummate impudence; but I have since discovered that he is quite modest compared to a midshipman.

"Me, sir?" replied the youngster, demurely. "I didn't cut off his tail, sir; he cut it off himself!"

"What, sir?" roared the captain.

"If you please, sir, I was chopping a piece of beef, and the dog, who was standing by, turned short round, and put his tail under the chopper."

"Put his tail under the chopper, you little scamp!" replied Captain L–, in a fury. "Now just put your head above the maintop-gallant cross-trees, and stay there until you are called down. Mr W–, you'll keep him up till sunset."

"Ay, ay, sir," replied the first lieutenant, with a satisfactory smile at the description of punishment inflicted.

When I was a midshipman, it was extremely difficult to avoid the mast-head. Out of six years served in that capacity, I once made a calculation that two of them were passed away perched upon the cross-trees, looking down with calm philosophy upon the microcosm below. Yet, although I never deserved it, I derived much future advantage from my repeated punishments. The mast-head, for want of something worse to do, became my study; and during the time spent there, I in a manner finished my education. Volumes after volumes were perused to while away the tedious hours; and I conscientiously believe it is to this mode of punishment adopted by my rigid superiors that the world is indebted for all the pretty books which I am writing.

I was generally exalted either for thinking or not thinking; and as I am not aware of any medium between the active and passive state of our minds (except dreaming, which is still more unpardonable), the reader may suppose that there is no exaggeration in my previous calculation of one-third of my midshipman existence having been passed away upon "the high and giddy mast."

"Mr M–," would the first lieutenant cry out, "why did you stay so long on shore with the jolly-boat?"

"I went to the post-office for the officers' letters, sir."

"And pray, sir, who ordered you?"

"No one, sir; but I thought—"

"You thought, sir! How dare you think?—go up to the mast-head, sir."

So much for thinking.

"Mr M–," would he say at another time, when I came on board, "did you call at the admiral's office?"

"No, sir; I had no orders. I didn't think—"

"Then why didn't you think, sir? Up to the mast-head, and stay there till I call you down."

So much for not thinking. Like the fable of the wolf and the lamb, it was all the same; bleat as I pleased, my defence was useless, and I could not avert my barbarous doom.

To proceed: Captain L– went over the side; the last pipe had been given, and the boatswain had returned his call into his jacket-pocket and walked forward, when the first lieutenant, in pursuance of his orders, looked up aloft, intending to have hailed the new lord, and have requested the pleasure of his company on deck; but the youngster, feeling a slight degree of appetite, after enjoying the fresh air for seven hours without any breakfast, had just ventured down the topmast rigging, that he might obtain possession of a bottle of tea and some biscuit, which one of his messmates had carried up for him, and stowed away in the bunt of the maintopsail. Young Aveleyn, who thought that the departure of the captain would occupy the attention of the first lieutenant, had just descended to, and was placing his foot on the topsail yard, when Mr W– looked up, and witnessed this act of disobedience. As this was a fresh offence committed, he thought himself warranted in not complying with the captain's mandate, and the boy was ordered up again, to remain till sunset. "I would have called him down," muttered Mr W–, whose temper had been soured from long disappointment; "but since he's a lord, he shall have a good spell of it before he quits the service; and then we shall not have his recommendation to others in his own rank to come into it and interfere with our promotion."

Now, it happened that Mr W–, who had an eye like a hawk, when he cast his eyes aloft, observed that the bunt of the maintopsail was not exactly so well stowed as it ought to be on board of a man-of-war; which is not to be wondered at, when it is recollected that the midshipmen had been very busy enlarging it to make a pantry. He therefore turned the hands up, "mend sails," and took his station amidship on the booms, to see that this, the most delinquent sail, was properly furled.—"Trice up—lay out—All ready forward?"—"All ready, sir."—"All ready abaft?"—"All ready, sir."—"Let fall."—Down came the sails from the yards, and down also came the bottle of tea and biscuit upon the face of the first lieutenant, who was looking up; the former knocking out three of his front teeth, besides splitting open both his lips and chin.

Young Aveleyn, who witnessed the catastrophe, was delighted; the other midshipmen on deck crowded round their superior, to offer their condolements, winking and making faces at each other in by-play, until the first lieutenant descended to his cabin, when they no longer restrained their mirth.

About an hour afterwards, Mr W– reappeared, with his face bound up, and summoned all the young gentlemen on deck, insisting upon being informed who it was who had stowed away the bottle in the bunt of the sail; but midshipmen have most treacherous memories, and not one of them knew anything about it. As a last resource, young Aveleyn was called down from the mast-head.

"Now, sir," said Mr W–, "either inform me directly who it was who stowed away the bottle aloft, or I pledge you my word you shall be discharged from his Majesty's service to-morrow morning. Don't pretend to say that you don't know—for you must."

"I do know," replied the youngster, boldly; "but I never will tell."

"Then either you or I shall leave the service. Man the first cutter;" and when the boat was manned, the first lieutenant sent some papers on shore, which he had been desired to do by the captain.

When the boat returned, the clerk was sent for, and desired by Mr W– to make out Mr Aveleyn's discharge, as the officers and midshipmen thought (for Mr W– had kept his secret), for his disobedient conduct. The poor boy, who thought all his prospects blighted, was sent on shore, the tears running down his cheeks, as much from the applause and kind farewells of his shipmates, as from the idea of the degradation which he underwent. Now, the real culprit was young Malcolm, who, to oblige the captain, had taken his station at the foretop-gallant mast-head, because the dog "Ponto" thought proper to cut off his own tail. The first lieutenant, in his own woe, forgot that of others; and it was not until past nine o'clock at night that Malcolm, who thought that he had stayed up quite long enough, ventured below, when he was informed of what had taken place.

The youngster immediately penned a letter to the captain, acknowledging that he was the offender, and requesting that Mr Aveleyn might not be discharged from the service; he also ventured to add a postscript, begging that the same lenity might be extended towards himself; which letter was sent on shore by the captain's gig, when it left the ship the next morning, and was received by Captain L– at the very same time that young Aveleyn, who had not been sent on shore till late in the evening, called upon the captain to request a reprieve from his hard sentence.

The boy sent up his name and was immediately admitted.

"I presume you know why you are discharged from the service?" said Captain L–, smiling benignantly.

"Yes, sir," replied the boy, holding his head down submissively, "because of that accident—I'm very sorry, sir."

"Of course you must, and ought to be. Such heavy blows are not common, and hard to bear. I presume you go immediately to Buckhurst?"

"I suppose I must, sir; but I hope, Captain L–, that you'll look over it."

"I shall have very great pleasure in so doing," replied Captain L–; "I hear that it is—"

"Thanky, sir, thanky," replied the youngster, interrupting the captain. "Then may I go on board again and tell the first lieutenant?"

"Tell the first lieutenant what?" cried Captain L–, perceiving some mistake. "Why, has not Mr W–told you?"

"Yes, sir, he told me it was your orders that I should be dismissed his Majesty's service."

"Discharged—not dismissed. And I presume he told you why: because your two elder brothers are dead, and you are now Lord Aveleyn."

"No, sir!" cried the youngster with astonishment; "because his three front teeth are knocked out with a bottle of scaldchops, and I would not peach who stowed it away in the bunt of the sail."

"This is excessively strange!" replied Captain L–. "Do me the favour to sit down, my lord; the letters from the ship will probably explain the affair."

There was, however, no explanation, except from young Malcolm. The captain read his letter, and put it into the hands of Lord Aveleyn, who entered into a detail of the whole.

Captain L– produced the letter from the trustees, and, desiring his lordship to command him as to any funds he might require, requested the pleasure of his company to dinner. The boy, whose head wheeled with the sudden change in his prospects, was glad to retire, having first obtained permission to return on board with young Malcolm's pardon, which had been most graciously acceded to. To the astonishment of everybody on board, young Aveleyn came alongside in the captain's own gig, when the scene in the midshipmen's berth and the discomfiture of the first lieutenant may be imagined.

"You don't belong to the service, Frank," said the old master's mate; "and, as peer of the realm, coming on board to visit the ship, you are entitled to a salute. Send up and say you expect one, and then W– must have the guard up, and pay you proper respect. I'll be hanged if I don't take the message, if you consent to it."

But Lord Aveleyn had come on board to pay a debt of gratitude, not to inflict mortification. He soon quitted the ship, promising never to forget Malcolm; and, unlike the promises of most great men, it was fulfilled, and Malcolm rose to be a captain from his own merit, backed by the exertions of his youthful patron.

For the next week the three mast-heads were so loaded with midshipmen, that the boatswain proposed a preventer backstay, that the top-masts might not go over the side; but shortly after, Captain L–, who was not pleased at the falsehood which Mr W– had circulated, and who had many other reasons for parting with him, succeeded in having him appointed to another ship; after which the midshipmen walked up and down the quarter-deck with their hands in their pockets, as before.

Chapter XXVII

          "But Adeline determined Juan's wedding  In her own mind, and that's enough for woman;  But then with whom? There was the sage Miss Redding,  Miss Raw, Miss Flaw, Miss Showman and Miss Knowman,  And the two fair co-heiresses Giltbedding.  She deem'd his merits something more than common.  All these were unobjectionable matches,  And might go on, it well wound up, like watches."BYRON.

The young Lord Aveleyn returned to the hall of his ancestors, exchanging the gloomy cockpit for the gay saloon, the ship's allowance for sumptuous fare, the tyranny of his messmates and the harshness of his superiors for adulation and respect. Was he happier? No. In this world, whether in boyhood or riper years, the happiest state of existence is when under control. Although contrary to received opinion, this is a fact; but I cannot now stop to demonstrate the truth of the assertion.

Life may be compared to a gamut of music: there are seven notes from our birth to our marriage; and thus may we run up the first octave—milk, sugar-plums, apples, cricket, cravat, gun, horse; then comes the wife, a da capo to a new existence, which is to continue until the whole diapason is gone through. Lord Aveleyn ran up his scale like others before him.

"Why do you not marry, my dear Frank?" said the dowager Lady Aveleyn, one day, when a thick fog debarred her son of his usual pastime.

"Why, mother, I have no objection to marry; and I suppose I must, one of these days, as a matter of duty: but I really am very difficult to please; and if I were to make a bad choice, you know a wife is not like this gun, which will go off when I please."

"But still, my dear Frank, there are many very eligible matches to be made just now."

"I do not doubt it, madam, but pray who are they?"

"Why, Miss Riddlesworth—"

"A very pretty girl, and I am told a large fortune. But let me hear the others first."

"Clara Beauchamp, well connected, and a very sweet girl."

"Granted also, for anything I know to the contrary. Have you more on your list?"

"Certainly. Emily Riddlesdale; not much fortune, but very highly connected indeed. Her brother, Lord Riddlesdale, is a man of great influence."

"Her want of money is no object, my dear mother, and the influence of her brother no inducement; I covet neither. I grant you that she is a very nice girl. Proceed."

"Why, Frank, one would think that you were a sultan with his handkerchief. There is Lady Selina Armstrong."

"Well, she is a very fine girl, and talks well."

"There is Harriet Butler, who has just come out."

"I saw her at the last ball we were at—a very pretty creature."

"Lady Jemima Calthorpe."

"Not very good-looking, but clever and agreeable."

"There is Louisa Manners, who is very much admired."

"I admire her very much myself."

"Well, Frank, you have exhausted my catalogue. There is not one I have mentioned who is not unexceptionable, and whom I would gladly embrace as a daughter-in-law. You are now turned of forty, my dear son, and must make up your mind to have heirs to the title and estates. I am, however, afraid that your admiration is so general, that you will be puzzled in your choice."

"I will confess to you, my dearest mother, that I have many years thought of the necessity of taking to myself a wife, but have never yet had courage to decide. I admit that if all the young women you have mentioned were what they appear to be, a man need not long hesitate in his choice; but the great difficulty is, that their real tempers and dispositions are not to be ascertained until it is too late. Allow that I should attempt to discover the peculiar disposition of every one of them, what would be the consequence?—that my attentions would be perceived. I do not exactly mean to accuse them of deceit; but a woman is naturally flattered by perceiving herself an object of attraction; and when flattered, is pleased. It is not likely, therefore, that the infirmities of her temper (if she have any) should be discovered by a man whose presence is a source of gratification. If artful, she will conceal her faults; if not so, there will be no occasion to bring them to light. And even if, after a long courtship, something wrong should be discovered, either you have proceeded too far in honour to retract, or are so blinded by your own feelings as to extenuate it. Now, it is only the parents and near relations of a young woman who can be witnesses to her real character, unless it be, indeed, her own maid, whom one could not condescend to interrogate."

"That is all very true, Frank; but recollect the same observations apply to your sex as well as ours. Lovers and husbands are very different beings. It is quite a lottery on both sides."

"I agree with you, my dear mother; and, as marry I must, so shall it be a lottery with me—I will leave it to chance, and not to myself: then, if I am unfortunate, I will blame my stars, and not have to accuse myself of a want of proper discrimination." Lord Aveleyn took up a sheet of paper, and, dividing it into small slips, wrote upon them the names of the different young ladies proposed by his mother. Folding them up, he threw them on the table before her, and requested that she would select any one of the papers.

The dowager took up one.

"I thank you, madam," said Lord Aveleyn, taking the paper from her hand, and opening it—"'Louisa Manners.' Well, then, Louisa Manners it shall be; always provided that she does not refuse me. I will make my first advances this very afternoon—that is, if it does not clear up, and I can take out the pointers."

"You surely are joking, Frank?"

"Never was more serious. I have my mother's recommendation, backed by fate. Marry I must, but choose I will not. I feel myself desperately in love with the fair Louisa already. I will report my progress to you, my dear madam, in less than a fortnight."

Lord Aveleyn adhered to his singular resolution, courted, and was accepted. He never had reason to repent his choice; who proved to be as amiable as her countenance would have indicated. The fruits of his marriage was one son, who was watched over with mingled pride and anxiety, and who had now arrived at the age of fifteen years.

Such was the history of Lord Avelyn, who continued to extend his friendship to Edward Forster, and, if he had required it, would gladly have proffered his assistance, in return for the kindness which Forster had shown towards him when he was a midshipman. The circumstances connected with the history of the little Amber were known to Lord Aveleyn and his lady; and the wish of Forster, that his little charge should derive the advantage of mixing in good female society, was gladly acceded to, both on his account and on her own. Amber would often remain for days at the mansion, and was a general favourite, as well as an object of sympathy.

But the growth of their son, too rapid for his years, and which brought with it symptoms of pulmonary disease, alarmed Lord and Lady Aveleyn; and, by the advice of the physicians, they broke up their establishment, and hastened with him to Madeira, to re-establish his health. Their departure was deeply felt both by Forster and his charge; and before they could recover from the loss, another severe trial awaited them in the death of Mrs Beazely, who, full of years and rheumatism, was gathered to her fathers. Forster, habituated as he was to the old lady, felt her loss severely: he was now with Amber, quite alone; and it so happened that in the following winter his wound broke out, and confined him to his bed until the spring.

As he lay in a precarious state, the thought naturally occurred to him, "What will become of this poor child if I am called away? There is not the slightest provision for her: she has no friends, and I have not even made it known to any of my own that there is such a person in existence." Edward Forster thought of his brother, the lawyer, whom he knew still to be flourishing, although he had never corresponded with him; and resolved that, as soon as he was able to undertake the journey, he would go to town, and secure his interest for the little Amber, in case of any accident happening to himself.

The spring and summer passed away before he found himself strong enough to undertake the journey. It was late in the autumn that Edward Forster and Amber took their places in a heavy coach for the metropolis, and arrived without accident on the day or two subsequent to that on which Nicholas and Newton had entered it on foot.

Chapter XXVIII

          "Through coaches, drays, choked turnpikes, and a whirl  Of wheels, and roar of voices, and confusion,  Here taverns wooing to a pint of 'purl,'  There mails fast flying off, like a delusion.          "Through this, and much, and more, is the approach  Of travellers to mighty Babylon;  Whether they come by horse, or chair, or coach,  With slight exceptions, all the ways seem one."BYRON.

When Newton Forster and his father arrived at London, they put up at an obscure inn in the Borough. The next day, Newton set off to discover the residence of his uncle. The people of the inn had recommended him to apply to some stationer or bookseller, who would allow him to look over a red-book; and, in compliance with these instructions, Newton stopped at a shop in Fleet-street, on the doors of which was written in large gilt letters—"Law Bookseller." The young men in the shop were very civil and obliging, and, without referring to the "Guide," immediately told him the residence of a man so well known as his uncle, and Newton hastened in the direction pointed out.

It was one of those melancholy days in which London wears the appearance of a huge scavenger's cart. A lurid fog and mizzling rain, which had been incessant for the previous twenty-four hours; sloppy pavements, and kennels down which the muddy torrents hastened to precipitate themselves into the sewers below; armies of umbrellas, as far as the eye could reach, now rising, now lowering, to avoid collision; hackney-coaches in active sloth, their miserable cattle plodding along with their backs arched and heads and tails drooping like barndoor fowls crouching under the cataract of a gutter; clacking of pattens and pestering of sweepers; not a smile upon the countenance of one individual of the multitude which passed him;—all appeared anxiety, bustle, and selfishness. Newton was not sorry when he turned down the narrow court which had been indicated to him, and, disengaged from the throng of men, commenced a more rapid course. In two minutes he was at the door of his uncle's chambers, which, notwithstanding the inclemency of the weather, stood wide open, as if there should be no obstacle in a man's way, or a single moment for reflection allowed him, if he wished to entangle himself in the expenses and difficulties of the law. Newton furled his weeping umbrella; and, first looking with astonishment at the mud which had accumulated above the calves of his legs, raised his eyes to the jambs on each side, where in large letters he read at the head of a long list of occupants, "Mr Forster, Ground Floor." A door with Mr Forster's name on it, within a few feet of him, next caught his eye. He knocked, and was admitted by the clerk, who stated that his master was at a consultation, but was expected back in half-an-hour, if he could wait so long. Newton assented, and was ushered into the parlour, where the clerk presented the newspaper of the day to amuse him until the arrival of his uncle.

As soon as the door was closed, Newton's curiosity as to the character of his uncle induced him to scrutinise the apartment and its contents. In the centre of the room, which might have been about fourteen feet square, stood a table, with a shadow lamp placed before the only part of it which was left vacant for the use of the pen. The remainder of the space was loaded with parchment upon parchment, deed upon deed, paper upon paper. Some, especially those underneath, had become dark and discoloured by time; the ink had changed to a dull red, and the imprint of many a thumb inferred how many years they had been in existence, and how long they had lain there as sad mementos of the law's delay. Others were fresh and clean, the japanned ink in strong contrast with the glossy parchment,—new cases of litigation, fresh as the hopes of those who had been persuaded by flattering assurances to enter into a labyrinth of vexation, from which, perhaps, not to be extricated until these documents should assume the hue of the others, which silently indicated the blighted hopes of protracted litigation. Two massive iron chests occupied the walls on each side of the fireplace; and round the whole area of the room were piled one upon another large tin boxes, on which, in legible Roman characters, were written the names of the parties whose property was thus immured. There they stood like so many sepulchres of happiness, mausoleums raised over departed competence; while the names of the parties inscribed appeared as so many registers of the folly and contention of man.