Duty and Inclination/Chapter 23
CHAPTER II.
"Ah! show them where in ambush stand,
To seize their prey, the murderous band!
Ah! tell them they are men."
Gray.
Reigning as a monarch in that strong but confined fortress, every eye watched the motions of the General, all submitted themselves with implicit confidence to his control. Though thus in the plenitude of power, the task he had to perform was not the less weighty, as, like so many links in a chain, every subordinate rank depended upon him for support and direction. To avoid confusion and trouble to his officers, he daily admitted them to partake of his repasts, sumptuously distributed, where, without excess, the glass was freely circulated, and quaffed to the General's loyal toasts. His ease and suavity, his gracious and condescending manners, won the good-will of all.
The whole adjacent country continued in a state of commotion, yet the General did not deprive himself of his usual horse exercise beyond the precincts of the Fort; often traversing with his suite the spacious strand, while the advancing tide left upon his charger's rapid hoof its glittering traces. Protected by the ocean, if danger from the rebels was to be apprehended, it came but from the distant land, where not unfrequently were discerned an assembled few, in secret converse, but too weak or irresolute to make any attack, beyond their reach and artful stratagems as was the General.
Sometimes, however, to decoy him nearer and throw him off his guard, they cunningly sheltered themselves beneath the furze, brambles, or fences that lay beside the pathway; some more deeply malignant, and treacherously intent upon their purpose, tossing their hats in the air, might be heard to cry, "Long live the General! huzza!" Thus, as carnivorous vultures watch to englut their prey, the rapacious rebels enjoyed a savage delight in the hope of ensnaring him, whose head once severed would become a prize of such high value, and who, brave to excess and devoid of all personal fear, was often seen in advance, boldly and incautiously outriding his companions—sometimes even approaching within the boundary where the assassin meditated his villainous aim.
And wherefore lie skulking in ambush? Why, when so desperately sanguine, did not these bravos in purpose come more openly forward, by making at once an attack upon the Fort, which to have reduced within their grasp would have gained them a decided advantage, and furnished resources innumerable? But more artfully devised and coolly calculated seemed their plans, than to attack by open force a place so apparently strong and inaccessible.
However long this insurrection among the Irish had been brooding in secret, yet it was undoubtedly from the defeat of General De Brooke, or rather from the fatal neglect of orders and presumptuous rashness of Major Harrold, that it first acquired extension and confirmation; its final suppression and total extinction remained for the more fortunate General Haughton, who, with the troops committed to his orders, having to contend with an enemy so powerful, yet so undisciplined and so wildly impetuous, neither yielding to constraint nor control, the measures he resorted to could alone prove effectual.
Having received their directions, inspired with an ardour fierce as those they fought against, several regiments of well-ordered cavalry precipitately thronged upon the rebels while assembled in concourse from their many secret haunts in the town of R. The horse, obedient to its rider, charged violently upon them; the broad sabre mowed them down from side to side; resistance was impracticable; bloody was the combat and great the slaughter; many thousands of that sanguinary band lay heaped upon the earth. With but little loss on the side of Government was this memorable victory achieved over the misguided Irish; it then remained only to throw their bodies, thickly strewed in masses on the ground, collectively into deep pits and trenches dug for the purpose.
Tranquillity was restored to the country, but not to the mind of De Brooke; for another was come to rob him of his laurels! Thus, in his military career, as in every other circumstance of his life, misfortune seemed destined to pursue him! The means by which General Haughton conquered the rebels were those which had been foreseen by De Brooke as likely to prove effective, and which, had such devolved on him, might have been equally well performed. Happy, however, would it have been for him had his name in this instance been associated with that of General Haughton, who, elate with newly acquired fame, determined to raise himself a step higher in popularity and favour, and that by building his elevation on the downfall of De Brooke, who having superseded him in command, the irritable feelings of General Haughton had never ceased to be mortified, and the more so from some slight imputations of irregularity having been laid to his charge, from which, now that he had risen into notice, and some weight might be attached to his depositions, he resolved to exculpate himself, by making it appear that whatever disorder had existed, still actually did so under the command of his successor. How far he was enabled to accomplish this malicious plan the course of our narrative will show.
Perhaps there were few individuals filling military posts of responsibility less formed for public business than General De Brooke. Distinguished as he was for mental capacity, and furnished with the elegant acquisitions of intellect, however skilful and active in the warlike manoeuvres and discipline of military life, yet he was by no means calculated to undergo the drudgery attending upon continued and serious application, which yet, in the career of duties devolving upon him at so important a post, were equally essential to the good of the service as the more agreeable and brilliant exercises of reviews and inspections.
But to counterbalance his own constitutional inaptitude for business, impelled also by a deep sense of duty, and ever bearing near his heart the interest of the Government by which he was employed, he had appointed clerks worthy, as he conceived, of the various trusts he reposed in them, as also a general superintendent, his confidential secretary, to inspect their accounts.
Meanwhile, the country being reduced to order and to a tranquillity more stable than before the breaking out of the rebellion, Mrs. De Brooke awaited the commands of her husband to resume, as formerly, her station at the Fort. Having, as we have seen, taken refuge on the coast of Wales, rather than advance into the interior and more agreeable part of the country, she had preferred establishing herself in the small town of Milford Haven, its vicinity to the coast affording her a speedy communication of news relative to the progress of the rebellion. This event terminating sooner than she had expected, after much painful solicitude the wished-for summons of the General reached her.
Speedily wafted across the seas, she was safely landed on shores exhibiting anew scenes delightful and congenial to her remembrance, but for the thought of the tumult and alarm that had succeeded. Hailed by affectionate greetings springing from the endearing ties of conjugal, paternal and filial tenderness, the morrow came, and day succeeding to day stole on as formerly.
The autumn was far advanced, but still that season brought with it enjoyment. Mrs. De Brooke renewed her excursions around the country, when she was often shocked in beholding the awful scenes occasioned by the late ravages. Superstition and fanaticism had led these barbarous people to the most frenzied acts of intolerance. Temples where the Protestant votary was wont to lift up his soul in prayer, became theatres of the most dreadful outrages: shut within those consecrated walls were men, women and children, who, falling into the grasp of ignorance and bigotry, were doomed to perish before the altars of their God, in a manner afflictive to humanity. Consumed by the all-devouring flame, fit emblem of an infernal zeal, their groans and shrieks conveying a savage joy to their murderers, until heard no longer, faint and dying, these victims of an intolerant superstition were buried in the conflagration amidst the ruins forming their funeral pile. "May your sufferings in death atone for errors past," was the prayer breathed by Mrs. De Brooke whenever the blackened remains of martyrs made by the sanguinary rebels in their struggle for victory met her eyes.
Preferring the social meetings of the Fort to the perpetual round of gaiety at W, no new occurrence intervened to vary the even tranquillity of the seasons, until a period of five years had elapsed since the General first took possession of the district and staff-duties to which he had been appointed.
Another year was yet wanting to complete the term within which, since the favour had been conferred upon him of extending the period of his command, his present appointment was bounded,—a favour doubtless arising from the invariably strict fulfilment of his duty. The circumstance that but one year more was to be passed at the Fort, suggested, in its train of anticipations, futurities to the minds of the De Brookes—the pleasing idea of returning to England, not as they had left it, but in a manner becoming themselves, their rank and condition; conscious meanwhile of the praiseworthy motive, so dear to the fond pride of both parents, that of giving the last finish to the education of their daughters. Alas! these fond expectations, though destined to be realised in part, eventually brought in their train a sad reverse of fortune—a change the more afflicting as it was wholly unforeseen.
Gratifying to the General as was the consciousness of having made friends in all around him—ever receiving protestations to such effect—he but little dreamt of a secret enemy, who, like a midnight robber, was working in the dark, plotting to undermine his welfare: credulous and unsuspicious, the trust and confidence he had reposed in his employers unfortunately favoured the designs of the insidious General Haughton, who commenced his hostile operations under pretence of loyalty and devotion to the public service.
At this critical juncture the health of their eldest daughter began visibly to decline; and conformably to the advice of her physician, they decided that unless she were timely removed from so bleak a situation as the Fort to an inland climate, the most fatal consequences might be the result. In fact, her native air was to be preferred, as that likely to prove more congenial towards effecting the renovation of her health, and to this natural remedy they resolved to have recourse. But could the General have penetrated into the concealed machinations of his enemies, that, like some hidden mine ready to explode beneath his feet, awaited but an occasion, rather than have entertained ideas of quitting his post, he would undoubtedly have been intent alone upon redoubling there his circumspection and vigilance.
Little suspecting the use about to be made of his absence, and under the pressing calamity of his daughter's illness, and repeated expostulations made to him on that account by her mother, he was at length induced to pen a letter to Government requesting a short leave of absence. Deeply interested in the fate of his child, his intention was to conduct her, with Mrs. De Brooke and her sister, to the shores of England, and thence to Bath; where, on account of the salubrity of its springs, he proposed to remain some time with his family, until the expiration of his leave, when he purposed returning to his post alone, in order to accomplish the remainder of his term.
Receiving a favourable answer to his letter, it being then about the end of October, he lost no time in embarking for England.
The wind was temperate and the sea calm until arrived within some leagues from land, when clouds darkened the horizon, and the gale by degrees became tempestuous. Beating upon the billows, long was the vessel seen combating with the raging elements. A lofty rock, of angular form, jutted itself into the sea, which the utmost maritime skill attempted in vain to avoid; again the sailors tack, but with no success. Every instant of time exposed the vessel to the tremendous hazard of being split upon the craggy and protruding eminence before her.
During a scene so calculated to infuse terror, the General, unshaken by the danger, was moved only by the plaints and cries of his wife and eldest daughter, to relieve whose fears he descended to the cabin, but was quickly followed by two or three male passengers, with looks so much bespeaking a certitude of danger, as still further augmented the fright he was essaying to appease.
Mounting upon the deck, washed by the foaming surf, he gave instant orders to the captain to change the course of his vessel and steer for the port they had quitted; when, nearly arrived in harbour, how gladly did even the stoutest heart amongst the passengers descend the side of the ship to take a seat in those boats which, upon the first signal of distress, had left the Fort to reconduct them thither!
Happy would it have been for General and Mrs. De Brooke had they, so recently escaped by a providential deliverance from a watery grave, regarded that event as ominous, and revoked their purpose of departing from that coast on which the General had reigned with so much honour and splendour, and which for more than five years had offered to them so secure and peaceful an asylum. Had they listened to that silent but warning voice, that perhaps is sometimes sent to dissuade us from our favourite selfwilled projects, they might have been furnished with the means of detecting and frustrating the encroachments of their enemy. In escaping that pit yawning under their feet, mortifications, regrets, and sorrows might have been averted, and the brightest prospects have succeeded.
Their friends at the Fort, who had never ceased with their telescopes to watch the vessel in its tossings upon the tumultuous wave, welcomed the return of the amiable General, who had been the idol of all hearts, and his interesting family with the most lively protestations of joy. Partaking of the hospitable entertainment given him by the officer appointed to take the command in his absence, it seemed as if each there collected separately vied in civility, hoping to induce him to change his purpose and stay amongst them. Alas! had he consulted his own private judgment he would have done so, but again, erring from the kindness of his heart, it was renounced: private feeling, in one so little selfish, was never suffered to weigh against the virtues and desires of those who were dear to him.
The day being spent, he retired to the dwelling he had so recently vacated, once more to repose under its friendly roof with his family, under the supposition that, as the storm had ceased, as soon as the morning spread her beams they should be a second time summoned to embark.
Scarcely, however, were all things hushed in quiet, and sleep had closed their lids, than a loud knocking at the outer door aroused them, succeeded by a voice vociferating from below, that as wind and weather permitted, the packet was under weigh. What was to be done but arise and obey the message? The captain of the vessel could not take upon him to submit to the General's special orders, having other passengers on board, nor could he command the elements to be propitious at his pleasure.
Mrs. De Brooke in the first instance deliberated; she was half inclined to change her mind, and let the vessel sail without her; but in the next moment, swayed by her usual courage, she prepared to go: the lights, but just extinguished, were re-illumined; all was hurry and confusion. The sisters were awakened from the sound repose into which they had sunk. The superior officers of the garrison were in attendance to conduct their General to the beach, where no sound was heard save the dashing of the oars as they cut through the wave. Then running alongside the vessel, the officers handed their fair companions on board; they descended with them to the cabin, where, after remaining a short interval, they bade their last farewell, with feelings of deep regret, to the General and his family.
They then returned on shore; whilst the packet, driven along by favourable gales calmly through the darkened shades of night, made progress for the coast of Cambria.