INVALIDED HOME.
Two days after the battle of Albuera, Lord Wellington himself arrived,
and from the officers of his staff Tom heard the details of the battle
of Fuentes d'Onoro, which had been fought a few days previously, and
which had been nearly as hardly contested as had Albuera itself, both
sides claiming the victory.
The next day, the bulk of Beresford's army returned to the
neighborhood of Badajos, which they again invested, while a long
convoy of wounded started for Lisbon. The Scudamores accompanied it
as far as Campo Major, where a large hospital had been prepared for
those too ill to bear the journey. Peter was still unconscious. Fever
had set in upon the day after the battle, and for three weeks he lay
between life and death. Tom's arm was mending very slowly, and he
would have had hard work indeed in nursing Peter had it not been for
the arrival of unexpected assistance. A large villa had been taken
close to the main hospital for the use of officers, and one of the
rooms was allotted to the Scudamores.
Upon the evening of the second day after their arrival, Tom was
sitting by Peter's bedside, when, after a preliminary tap, the door
opened, and to Tom's perfect amazement Sambo entered. The negro
hurried forward, threw himself on his knees, seized Tom's hand and
kissed it passionately, and then looking at the thin and fever-flushed
face of Peter, he hid his face in his hands and sobbed unrestrainedly.
"Hush, Sam, hush," Tom said soothingly. "My poor fellow, why, where
have you come from? I thought you were a prisoner with the French."
"I knew how it would be, Massa Tom," the black said, paying no
attention to the questions. "First thing Sam said to himself when he
got among French fellows, 'Dere, dose young gentlemen dey get into
all sorts of danger widout Sam, sartin sure dey get hurt widout Sam
to look after dem.' Dat idea troubled Sam berry much, took away Sam's
sleep altogether."
"Well it turned out so, as you see, Sam," Tom said with a smile, "but
tell me how did you get away? But first give me some lemonade out of
that jug, then you can tell me all about it."
"Why, Massa Tom," Sam said, when he had complied with the request,
"you didn't think dat dis chile was going to stop prisoner with dose
French chaps; Sam not such a fool as dat, nohow. When dat cussed
mule--I tell you fair, Massa Tom, dis chile conclude dat riding not
such a berry easy ting after all--when dat cussed mule ran into French
camp, de soldiers dey catch him, and dey take Sam off, and den dey
jabber and laugh for all de world like great lots of monkeys. Well,
for some time Sam he didn't say nothing, all de wind shook out of his
body. Besides which he couldn't understand what dey say. Den all of
a sudden, to Sam's surprise, up came a colored soldier, and he speak
to Sam in de English tongue. 'Holla, broder, how you come here?" I
ask. 'I been cook on board English merchant ship,' he say. 'Ship she
taken by French privateer. When dey come to port dey say to me, "You
not Englishman, you hab choice, you go to prison, or you be French
soldier." Natural, I not want go prison, so I conclude be French
soldier. I daresay dey gib you choice too.' Well, massa, a wink as
good as a nod to blind hoss. So dey take me to tent, put me under
guard, and next day a French officer come dat speak English. He ask
me all sorts ob questions, and at last he ask me why I list English
soldier. So you see I had got a little lie all ready, and me tell him,
me one poor Melican negro man, cook on board Melican ship. Ship taken
by English man-ob-war. Put Sam in prison and give him choice to go as
soldier. "Den you not care about English,' de officer say, and Sam
draw hisself up and pat his chest and say, 'Me Melican citizen, me no
Britisher's slave, some day me go back States, go on board Melican
man-ob-war, me pay out dese Britishers for make Sam slave.' Den de
officer laugh, and say dat if I like I could fight dem now; and if I
prefer French uniform to French prison, me could have him. Ob course
I accep' offer, and harp an hour after me in French uniform. French
officer try to make joke ob Sam, and ask whether I like cavalry or
foot soldier. Sam say he had enuff of quadruples at present. Me remain
French soldier three weeks, den cum great battle, dey call him Fuentes
donory. Sam's regiment fight. Sam not like fire at red coats, so break
bullet off catridge, neber put him in gun. We charge right into middle
of village full of English soldiers, de bullets fly all about. Sam not
see de point ob getting kill by mistake, so he tumble down, pretend to
be dead. Presently French beaten back; when English soldier wid doctor
cum look at wounded, dey turn Sam ober, and dey say, 'Hullo, here dead
nigger.' 'Nigger yourself, John Atkins,' I say for sure enuff it's de
ole regiment--'you say dat once again me knock your head off;' me jump
up, and all de world call out, 'Hullo, why it's Sam.' Den me splain
matter, and all berry glad, cept John Atkins, and next morning me gib
him licking he member all his life, me pound him most to a squash.
Four days ago colonel send for Sam, say, 'Sam, berry bad job, bofe
Massas wounded bad, send you to nurse dem;' so dis chile come. Dat
all, Massa Tom. Here letter for you from colonel, now you read dis
letter, den you get in bed, you sleep all night, Sam watch Massa
Peter."
Greatly relieved to have his faithful servant again, and to know that
Peter would be well cared for, instead of being left in charge of the
Spanish hospital orderly, whenever weakness and pain obliged him to
lie down, Tom abandoned his place by the bedside, and prepared for a
tranquil night's rest, first reading the colonel's letter.
"We are all grieved, my dear Scudamore, at hearing that you are both
wounded, and that your brother is at present in a serious state. We
trust, however, that he will pull through. I hear that Beresford has
praised you both most highly in despatches, and that your names are
sent home for companies. I heartily congratulate you. We have had some
tough work at Fuentes d'Onoro, although nothing to what yours must
have been at Albuera, still it was hot enough in all conscience, and
we had over a hundred casualties in the regiment. Carruthers and
Manley were both slightly wounded. Jones, Anstruther, Palmer, and
Chambers were killed, and several of the others hit more or less hard.
Sam has leave to remain with you until you rejoin, which will not, I
fear, be for some little time. Every one sends kind messages. Yours
truly, J. Tritton."
Nothing could exceed the care and devotion with which Sam nursed his
two masters, and Tom had the greatest difficulty in persuading him to
lie down and get a short sleep each day while he sat by Peter's bed.
At the end of three weeks Peter took a favorable turn. His fever
abated, and he awoke to consciousness. Another fortnight and he was
sufficiently convalescent to be moved, and accordingly they started to
travel by very easy stages to Lisbon, there to take ship for England,
as the doctor ordered Tom as well as his brother to go home for a
while to recruit. Tom was the less reluctant to do so, as it was
evident that with the force at his command Wellington would not be
able to undertake any great operation, and that the siege and capture
of Badajoz was the utmost likely to be accomplished in that season's
campaign. The mails in due course had brought out the _Gazette_,
and in it Tom and Peter Scudamore were promoted to be captains,
unattached.
Colonel Tritton, upon being applied to, readily gave leave for Sam
to accompany his masters. It was a long journey to Lisbon, but the
jolting of the country cart was made bearable by a layer of hay,
two feet deep, upon which the mattresses were laid, Sam seeing that
at each night's halt the hay was taken out, well shaken, and then
returned to the cart, so as to preserve it light and elastic. A thick
canopy of boughs kept off the heat of the sun, and under it, within
reach of the invalids hung a gourd of fresh water, and a basket of
fruit. Several other cart-loads of wounded officers accompanied them,
and at night they would draw up by a grove of trees where water was
handy, those who could walk would get out, the others would be lifted
out on their mattresses, a great fire made, and round it the beds laid
in a circle, and then the evening would be spent in pleasant chat,
with many an anecdote and an occasional song, until the fire burnt
low, the talk died away, and each, covered in his blankets to keep off
the night dew, fell asleep. Pleasant as was the journey, however, it
was with a thrill of delight that they caught their first sight of
Lisbon, with its broad river, and the blue line of the sea beyond. A
few days later, and they embarked on board a transport, which seven
days afterwards, after a calm passage, arrived at Spithead.
Peter was by this time gaining strength fast, but his back was so
stiff and sore that he was unable to move it, and was obliged to swing
himself along on crutches. The next day the coach took them to London,
and they started the morning after for Marlborough. This time they had
to go inside the coach, two gentlemen, who had previously secured the
seats, kindly giving them up in favor of the wounded young officers,
while Sam took his place on the roof, and amused his fellow-passengers
with wonderful accounts of his adventures at the war. At the inn
at which they took dinner, they alighted, and Tom recognized in the
driver the same coachman who had driven them upon the memorable
occasion of their being stopped by highwaymen three years before. "You
don't remember us, coachman, do you?"
"No, gentlemen, I can't say as how,--but eh! no, why you're the werry
boys as shot the highwaymen. Well, I am glad to see you again, though
you do look white and bad, both of you. I heard as how there were
two wounded officers inside, and that black soldier has been telling
all sorts of tales of the wonderful things as his masters had done,
but not knowing as how it was you, I didn't much believe all he was
telling. Now I quite see as how it was true; and how are you both?"
"Getting on all right," Tom said, returning the warm shake of the
coachman's hand, "and do you know, those pistols have saved our lives
more than once."
"Have they now," the coachman said, in high admiration, "but there, we
most be moving, we are three minutes after time as it is; I shall see
you again next time we stop, gentlemen."
During the next stage the coachman and guard recounted to the outside
passengers the affair of the stopping the coach, and Sam's black face
shone with delight at the tale. Then he had his say, and related the
story of his falling overboard and being rescued, and in consequence
the lads were quite embarrassed when they next halted, by the
attention of their fellow-travelers, who could scarcely understand how
it was possible that two mere boys should have performed such feats of
bravery.
Arrived at Marlborough they looked round in vain for the one-horsed
vehicle which had before met them. "I expect that aunt has not got
our letter, Peter," Tom said. "It would probably go up to town in the
coach with us, and is likely enough in the letter-bag in the boot.
Well, we must have a post-chaise. Won't aunt and Rhoda be surprised;
but they must be expecting us, because they will have had our letter
from Lisbon."
The horses were soon in, Sam took his seat in the rumble, and in a few
minutes they were bounding over the road at a very different pace to
that at which they had before traversed it. "There's the house among
the trees," Peter said at last, "with aunt's pigeons on the roof as
usual, and there's Minnie asleep on the window-sill, and there! yes,
there's Rhoda."
As he spoke a girl, who was sitting reading under a tree, leapt to her
feet, on hearing a carriage stop, and then, catching sight of Peter
waving his hat, while Tom made frantic efforts to open the door, gave
a scream of delight, and rushed towards them, threw her arms round
Tom's neck as he jumped out, and then leapt into the chaise and hugged
and cried over Peter. He was soon helped out, and as they turned to go
towards the house they saw their aunt coming out to meet them.
Tom ran forward and throwing his arms round her neck kissed her
heartily, and before she could recover from her surprise, Peter was
alongside. "Please, aunt, you must kiss me," he said, "for I want my
arms for my crutches." His aunt leaned forward and kissed him, and
then wiped the tears from her eyes.
"I am glad to see you back, my dear nephews," she said. "We did not
understand each other very well before, but we shan't make any more
mistakes. This is your black servant, I suppose," she said, as Sam
came along, with a trunk in each hand. "Dear! dear! what a dreadfully
ugly man."
"How do you do, Sam?" Rhoda said, when he came up. "We have heard so
much of you, and how kindly you nursed my brothers."
"Sam quite well, tank you, little missy," Sam said, grinning all over
his face and showing his white teeth.
Miss Scudamore shrank towards Tom as Sam passed on, "Dear me, what
sharp-looking teeth he has, Tom. They don't eat curious things, these
black men, do they?"
"What sort of curious things, aunt?"
"Well, my dear, I know that these outlandish people do eat strange
things, and I have heard the Chinese eat dogs and cats. Now, if he has
a fancy for cats, I daresay I could buy him some in the village, only
he will have to cook them himself, I could never ask Hannah to cook
cats; but please ask him not to touch Minnie."
Peter had to stop in his walk and grasp his crutches tightly, not
to burst into a scream of laughter, while Tom answered with great
gravity, "My dear aunt, do not alarm yourself, I will answer for the
safety of Minnie as far as Sam is concerned."
When they reached the house, Miss Scudamore said--
"I think you young people will enjoy yourselves more if you go and sit
under the shade of the elm there, you will have a deal to say to each
other, and had better be alone." They were all glad at the suggestion,
as they were longing to be alone together.
Sam, by Miss Scudamore's directions, carried out a great easy chair,
of which Peter took possession. Rhoda sat on the grass at his feet,
and Tom threw himself down at full length. They were all too happy
to speak much for a time, and could only look fondly at each other.
"You have grown a great deal, Rhoda, but I do not think that you are
altered a bit otherwise."
"You are neither of you altered so much as I expected," Rhoda said. "I
had made up my mind that you would be changed a great deal. It sounds
so grand--Captains, indeed! I expected to have curtsey to you and
treat you with great respect; instead of that you look regular boys,
both of you. Of course you are big, and Peter looks very tall; how
tall are you, Peter?"
"Just over six feet," Peter said.
"Yes," Rhoda said, "you are tall enough, and Tom is broad enough for
men, but somehow you look regular boys still."
"This is very disrespectful Rhoda, to two Captains in His Majesty's
service."
"It seems ridiculous, doesn't it," Rhoda said.
"It does," Tom said heartily, and the three went off into a shout of
laughter.
"It isn't really ridiculous you know," Rhoda said, when they had
recovered their gravity. "To think of all the dangers you have gone
through. Aunt was as proud as could be when she saw your names over
and over again in despatches, and I have been like a little peacock.
Your doings have been the talk of every one round here, and I am sure
that if they had known you had been coming, the village would have put
up a triumphal arch, and presented you with an address."
"Thank goodness, they did not know it then," Tom said, "for it would
have been a deal worse to stand than the fire of a French battery.
Well, Rhoda, and now as to yourself; so you have really been always
very happy with aunt?"
"Very happy," Rhoda said; "she is most kind and indulgent, and so that
I attend to her little fancies, I can do just as I like. I have had
lessons regularly from the rector's eldest daughter, who has been
educated for a governess; and in every respect, aunt is all that is
kind. Fancy her being afraid of Sam eating Minnie."
After chatting for upwards of an hour, they went into the house, and
the rest of the day was spent in talking over all that had happened
since they left. Sam was in the kitchen where he made himself very
much at home, and although Hannah and the cook were at first rather
awed by his size, his black face and rolling eyes, they were soon
pacified by his good humor and readiness to make himself useful, and
were wonderfully interested by his long stories about what "Massas"
had done in the war.
Miss Scudamore, who was a little uneasy as to how things would go on
in the kitchen, made some excuse for going in once or twice in the
course of the evening. She found things going on much better that she
had expected, indeed so much better, that after Rhoda had gone up to
bed, where Peter had two hours before betaken himself, she said to Tom
as he was lighting his candle, "One minute, nephew; I could not speak
before Rhoda, but I wanted to say something to you about your negro.
I have heard that all soldiers are very much given to make love, and
we know from Shakespeare, that Othello, who was black too, you will
remember, nephew, made love to Desdemona, which shows that color does
not make so much difference as one would think. Now I do hope your
man will not make love to Hannah, I don't think she would like it,
my dear, and yet you know she might; one never knows what women will
do; they are always making fools of themselves," she added angrily,
thinking at the moment how a young girl she had trained up as a cook
had, after being with her three years, left a few weeks before to
marry the village blacksmith, "and I should be sorry to lose Hannah.
She has been with us more than twenty years. If he must fall in love
with one, my dear, let it be the cook."
Tom had a great command of his countenance, but he had great
difficulty in steadying his muscles. After a moment or two he said,
"I will give Sam a hint, aunt, if it becomes necessary, but I do not
think you need fear. I do not fancy Sam is matrimonially inclined at
present, and he wouldn't leave us even to marry Desdemona herself.
Good night, aunt."
So saying, Tom went upstairs, where he repeated to Peter, who was
still awake, his conversation with his aunt, and the two went into
shouts of laughter over the idea of Sam making love to the prim
Hannah.
The next six months passed over quietly and happily. The boys
were made a great deal of by the whole county, and Miss Scudamore
was greatly gratified at the name and credit they had gained for
themselves. She no longer worried about them, but as Rhoda declared,
quite spoiled them, and as Sam made no attempt to win the love of
the faithful Hannah, there was no cloud to mar the pleasure of the
holiday.