Rodney Stone eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 347 pages of information about Rodney Stone.

Rodney Stone eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 347 pages of information about Rodney Stone.

Such were the views of these experienced officers, fortified by many reminiscences and examples of French gallantry, such as the way in which the crew of the L’Orient had fought her quarter-deck guns when the main-deck was in a blaze beneath them, and when they must have known that they were standing over an exploding magazine.  The general hope was that the West Indian expedition since the peace might have given many of their fleet an ocean training, and that they might be tempted out into mid-Channel if the war were to break out afresh.  But would it break out afresh?  We had spent gigantic sums and made enormous exertions to curb the power of Napoleon and to prevent him from becoming the universal despot of Europe.  Would the Government try it again?  Or were they appalled by the gigantic load of debt which must bend the backs of many generations unborn?  Pitt was there, and surely he was not a man to leave his work half done.

And then suddenly there was a bustle at the door.  Amid the grey swirl of the tobacco-smoke I could catch a glimpse of a blue coat and gold epaulettes, with a crowd gathering thickly round them, while a hoarse murmur rose from the group which thickened into a deep-chested cheer.  Every one was on his feet, peering and asking each other what it might mean.  And still the crowd seethed and the cheering swelled.

“What is it?  What has happened?” cried a score of voices.

“Put him up!  Hoist him up!” shouted somebody, and an instant later I saw Captain Troubridge appear above the shoulders of the crowd.  His face was flushed, as if he were in wine, and he was waving what seemed to be a letter in the air.  The cheering died away, and there was such a hush that I could hear the crackle of the paper in his hand.

“Great news, gentlemen!” he roared.  “Glorious news!  Rear-Admiral Collingwood has directed me to communicate it to you.  The French Ambassador has received his papers to-night.  Every ship on the list is to go into commission.  Admiral Cornwallis is ordered out of Cawsand Bay to cruise off Ushant.  A squadron is starting for the North Sea and another for the Irish Channel.”

He may have had more to say, but his audience could wait no longer.  How they shouted and stamped and raved in their delight!  Harsh old flag-officers, grave post-captains, young lieutenants, all were roaring like schoolboys breaking up for the holidays.  There was no thought now of those manifold and weary grievances to which I had listened.  The foul weather was passed, and the landlocked sea-birds would be out on the foam once more.  The rhythm of “God Save the King” swelled through the babel, and I heard the old lines sung in a way that made you forget their bad rhymes and their bald sentiments.  I trust that you will never hear them so sung, with tears upon rugged cheeks, and catchings of the breath from strong men.  Dark days will have come again before you hear such a song or see such a sight as that.  Let those talk of the phlegm of our countrymen who have never seen them when the lava crust of restraint is broken, and when for an instant the strong, enduring fires of the North glow upon the surface.  I saw them then, and if I do not see them now, I am not so old or so foolish as to doubt that they are there.

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Rodney Stone from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.