JACK SLINGSBY.
The killing of the Spanish lieutenant revived among our diplomatic
people the ever-rankling quarrel about the contrabandistas, and the
captain-general of Andalusia wrote an angry letter to the governor of
Gibraltar, remonstrating with him on the conduct of the officer in
charge of the battery at the Mole Fort, in daring to fire upon a
Spanish government cruiser, and requesting that the said Don Ricardo
Ramble should be given up to the Spanish authorities to be sent to
the galleys at Barcelona probably, or to be otherwise disposed of.
This absurd demand, however, the old general commanding waived
politely; but the correspondence was prolonged until the military
secretary became bored to death on the subject, and lost all patience
at the very mention of it. Now as the Queen of Spain designates
herself sovereign lady of Gibraltar, and as the alcalde of San Roque,
a little town which has sprung up within the last hundred and fifty
years, still styles himself in all official documents Alcalde of San
Roque and of Gibraltar, and holder of supreme authority therein, the
tone assumed by the capitan-general, who was on a visit to Jaen, was
pompous, high, and mighty; for no explanation we could give in
writing could make the irritable old Castilian hidalgo see that the
lieutenant of the guarda costa had been in the wrong.
One evening, on entering the mess-room, I was startled by Colonel
Morton acquainting me that by directions just arrived from the
Foreign Secretary he had been requested to send the two officers who
were on guard in the new Mole Fort into Spain.
"Without hostage or guarantee--the devil!" said I, shrugging my
shoulders; "and to whom?"
"To this obstinate old bore by habit, and boar by nature, the
captain-general."
"As prisoners, colonel?" cried Slingsby, with an astounded air from
the other end of the table, and pausing with his hand on a wine
decanter; "you don't mean to say as prisoners?"
"Prisoners--not at all; how could you think of such a thing?" said
the colonel, laughing, for he was a hearty old soldier, at whose name
stood P.W. and K.H., and C.B. in _Hart's Army List_; "you go merely
to explain the late affair in person; and it is the more necessary
for you both to go as the two aides-de-camp of the governor are on
the sick list. It is only a ride of some seventy or eighty miles
into Spain--wish 't were I who had the duty to do."
"And where does the captain-general live?"
"At Seville, to which place he is now returning from Jaen."
"Ah, indeed, Seville," said I, reviving, as I filled my glass with
Moselle, and Slingsby stuck his glass in his remarkably knowing eye.
"You'll take good horses; but be careful of rogues, raterillos, and
footpads by the way. I can lend you a pair of pistols with spring
bayonets."
"Thank you, colonel, I have my revolver," said I, laughing.
"What! you smile, Ramble?" said the colonel; "and believe me to have
the bandittiphobia; but I know Spain well, having marched over every
foot of the Peninsula under Lord Lyndedoch, and fought my way from
the Black Horse Square at Lisbon to the banks of the Nive, so I know
pretty well, that in peace as in war armed desperadoes, whose hands
are against all men, are, as a certain traveller says, 'the very
weeds of the Spanish soil.' Right well do I know the land of Los
Espagnols as we used to call them in the old fighting 5th Hussars. I
was in the cavalry then, and had I not grown stiff in the joints, and
lost all relish for adventures by day, fleas by night, and the
resinous taste of vino out of a skin at all times, I would have saved
you the trouble of the journey and gone myself; but my instructions
from home say that Captain Ramble and Lieutenant Slingsby must go, so
there is the end of it. Major, Mr. Vice, another bottle of wine to
drink 'bon voyage' to Ramble and Slingsby."
"With all my heart; sergeant Slopper, a fresh allowance of wine,"
said the major.
"Wish I were going with you," said Shafton, the captain of our light
company; "a ride to Seville! the very name of the place conjures up
a sunny vision of orange trees and glowing grapes, of black mantillas
and taper ancles, and different duty from trenching in the Crimea as
we might have been, and ought to have been by this time."
"Aye," quoth M'Leechy the doctor, who although married (as he knew to
his cost) was dining that day with the mess; "and a pleasant change
after our dull routine of garrison life, during which we have, as
'Punch' says--
"Contentedly eat ration beefs and muttons,
Contentedly drank ration rums and waters;
Darned our own socks, and sewed our own buttons,
Fried in summer, and froze in winter quarters."
"A fine upon the doctor," said Shafton; "colonel, Mr. Vice,
gentlemen, he vilely satirises Her Majesty's service, a bottle of
champagne from the doctor."
"You will remember us all most affectionately to Donna Dominga and to
the bewitching Paulina--you will see them of course," said some one
from the foot of the table.
"The doctor must prepare some of the rarest specimens of those
remarkable cacti with which he subdued the heart of the plump widow,"
said Slingsby, taking up the chorus of banter, "and have them ready
by to-morrow; we start to-morrow, I presume, colonel."
"As early as you please," said Morton.
"We shall have some glorious fun in Seville--eh, Ramble? You'll envy
us, gentlemen."
"If the captain-general does not garotte you," snarled the doctor;
"or treat you as Don Ramon Cabrera, the Conde de Morella, treated the
husband of Donna Dominga."
"But for that gentle sigh, doctor, I would have considered you quite
a bear," said Slingsby, "but pass the wine, M'Leechy."
"If you find Seville dull," retorted the doctor, "you had better play
the same little prank you played at Kilkenny when you were in the
Sixth."
"What did he do when in the Sixth?" inquired a dozen voices at once.
"What did he not do you should ask," continued the doctor, while Jack
smiled faintly and filled up his glass. "Once when we marched into
Kilkenny we found there had been a quarrel between the Rapparees of
the district and the first battalion of Scots Royals. It was in the
time of high Repeal enthusiasm, and nothing was thought of but an
Irish Republic, so the people looked darkly at the redcoats. Now
Slingsby had never been in Ireland before, and as he received over
the barrack-guard from one of the Royals, with bayonets fixed and
drum beating, he asked how the inhabitants liked the troops.
"'Ill enough,' answered the Royal, 'since we shot some of them in a
tithe business near Roscrea: they have been as cold as charity, and
the devil a dinner or ball have we had since last muster day, and you
be here till you are mouldy without seeing such a thing as a waltz or
white kids--ices and fowl, trifle and champagne.'
"Whereupon Mr. Jack Slingsby, being an Englishman, and knowing no
better, believed he might play pranks upon the Irish; and seating
himself in his quarters next day, he assumed his pen and dispatched
the following card to every house in the town:--
"'Lieutenant Slingsby, of H.M.'s 6th Foot, presents his compliments
to the ladies of Kilkenny, and takes the earliest opportunity of
announcing his arrival. He begs to inform them that he can play
whist, casino, and every game on cards known in Christendom; that he
flirts to admiration, and can polk, waltz, and dance the varsovienne
ditto, that generally he can accommodate himself to every whim-wham
of the charming sex, and is always to be heard of at his residence in
the infantry barracks.'
"Among others he rashly sent one of these precious circulars to Mrs.
Towler, the wife--I beg her pardon--the lady of the major-general of
the district, who wickedly handed it to her husband at breakfast; so
poor Jack's production brought him before a general court-martial.
It went very hard with him, for the irascible general deemed that his
wife and her ten highly-eligible daughters were grossly insulted; but
our hero escaped with a reprimand, and the colonel was directed to
watch his conduct in future, but he became thereafter the lion of
Kilkenny and Carlow to boot, and all the district from Roscrea to
Clonmel. After that, an evening party without Jack, would have been
like a bell without a clapper."
"But the general never forgave me for that prank," said Jack,
good-humouredly; "and he was always on the watch for me afterwards."
"You remember how nearly he had you booked for another court-martial
on a race day?"
"And how nicely I outflanked and outwitted him! It was the day of
the principal races; I had a horse to run, and more than half the
regiment had made a heavy book on him, and a great amount of paper
was expected to change owners on the issue. The lord-lieutenant was
to be there, and I was all anxiety to be present at the race, when,
as the devil or the adjutant would have it, I found myself in orders
the day before--orders for guard! Everybody was going to the course,
and not a soul for love or money would take my duty; so with a heavy
heart I paraded in the morning; and as the time for the start drew
near I saw all our fellows bowl out of barracks in drags and cars
attired in sporting mufti and in high spirits. Then came old General
Towler, commanding the district, in his blue frogged coat, and with
the sabre which he had wielded at the passage of the Bidassoa, Mrs.
General Towler, several Misses Towler, all demoiselles of mature age,
and the A.D.C. Horatio Towler, captain of a regiment which he never
saw, for he wisely preferred his mamma's drawing-room in Kilkenny to
broiling on Cape Coast. They all scampered out, then the barrack
gates were shut, and all became very quiet and still.
"No sound stirred in the empty parade-yard, for no one was abroad;
the sun was scorching and the sentinels stood in their boxes. I
thought of the buzz, the glitter, the fun and frolic, the cold fowl,
the iced champagne, the brandy and soda-water, the flirtation on the
roof of a drag, on the rumble or the dickey--all the excitement and
enthusiasm of the races, and more than all, I imagined how my nag
would look when the exulting grooms drew his cloths off, the jockey
in blue and white colours, and fancy painted him scouring like a
whirlwind round the smooth green course, and beating Flying Dutchman,
Lady Fanny, Albert, and all the rest of them hollow. As the time of
the start drew nigh, my excitement and longing increased, but I knew
too well the danger of absenting myself from a guard. I knew,
moreover, that old Towler, who spent half his life in laying traps
for subalterns (ensigns being his peculiar aversion), was daily
furnished with a card, whereon were written the names of the officers
on garrison duty, and he had seen me on guard as he passed out. The
barracks are so empty, I'll never be missed, thought I, and may steal
to the course in the crowd. So, as the distance was short, I hurried
off on foot and in full uniform just as I had paraded for duty, with
my sword, white belt, and shako. Lost amid the wilderness of tents,
stalls, thimblers, and rolypoly men, carriages, gigs, cars, and
vehicles of every kind, I reached the grand stand, or rather its
vicinity, and was eagerly looking about for my horse as the bell had
rung at the starting-point, and the race had begun long since, when I
heard a tremendous cheer, and saw my own jockey borne past me,
shoulder high. Blue and white had won! In my excitement and
confusion I forgot all about my uniform, and was pushing, jostling,
and fighting my way through the delighted mob, when the basilisk
expression of two fierce grey eyes that peered from under their
shaggy brows arrested me.
"Heavens and earth! I was close to the carriage of old General
Towler, and there he sat, sullen as Jove upon his throne of thunder
clouds, scanning me and his card,--the fatal detail card, alternately.
"'I am done for!' was my first thought; 'I have won the race, but
lost my commission; he has nailed me at last!' and my heart sunk, as
I thought of the too probable consequences of a second court-martial.
"'To the barracks,' I heard him say imperiously, and I knew in a
moment that he was deliberately driving off to turn out the main
guard, and thus to prove me absent therefrom. I felt that I was
lost--that my commission, the pride of my heart, was gone; and had
not a happy thought seized me, I should not have been here to night.
Just as the carriage turned round, I sprang up behind it, and stood
there unseen, but stooping low, because the roof was open.
"'You're sure it is that impertinent fellow, Slingsby, of the Sixth?'
said Mrs. Towler, with a smile of malicious satisfaction.
"'Sure as you are beside me, my love,' growled the general; 'bad
example to the soldiers--very! subversive of all discipline--I'll
smash him now--absent from guard--a general court-martial----'
"'A saucy jackanapes,' said Miss Towler.
"'Gross dereliction of duty!'
"'He was most impertinent to Maria at the last ball,' said Mrs.
Towler.
"'Violation of the articles of war,' growled the Major General; 'but
here we are close on the barracks--now we shall have him!'
"'Guard turn out!' cried the sentry, presenting arms, and facing his
post.
"'Stop, coachman,' cried the general, as the carriage, with wheels
flashing and its steaming bays at full gallop, dashed up to the guard
house, where they reared back on their haunches, as the guard formed
line, opened ranks, and the drum gave the single customary ruffle,
just as I dropped unseen from the foot-board behind, drew my sword,
and took my place coolly at the head of my men.
"'Sergeant,' roared the general; 'where's the officer of the
guard--where's that infernal--where is Mr. Slingsby?'
"'Here, general,' said the astonished noncommissioned officer.
"'I am here, sir,' said I, haughtily lowering the point of my sword.
"'Here--you!' he exclaimed with a glance of astonishment and
perplexity, as he fumbled with his confounded detail card; 'what the
deuce--I thought--that will do, however; guard, turn in, sir;
coachman, drive on!'
"And the carriage, with the general and all his daughters, with their
fringed parasols, rolled away. Old Towler never discovered how I
circumvented him, though he assured his son, the aide-de-camp, that
he could have made his affidavit on seeing me at the races, and in
ten minutes after found me at the head of my guard more than two
miles distant."
Next day Slingsby and I left the garrison on our mission to Seville.
He accompanied me with some reluctance, for he disliked the
Spaniards, having been frequently among them, and being one who
possessed a strange facility for getting into all kinds of scrapes
and broils. Before starting we received from the military secretary
all the papers connected with the affair of the guarda costa; and,
what was of more importance to us, we received from the paymaster a
necessary portion of "the soul of Pedro Garcias," and taking with us
only our undress uniform and grey great-coats, our swords and
revolvers (for one might as well travel without brains as without
arms in Spain; besides, Fabrique de Urquija, a devil of a fellow,
haunted the Sierra de Ronda), a valise with six shirts each, a box of
cubas, and a John Murray, we crossed the isthmus, passed through the
Spanish lines about an hour after the morning gun was fired, and with
the gorgeous sunrise of a beautiful Spanish day took the wild and
lonely road into Andalusia, with well-filled purses, good nags under
us, light hearts and thoughtless heads, and in such a frame of mind,
that, in pursuit of adventure, we would have faced anything, from a
black beetle to a mad bull.
I thought of Donna Paulina (when did I not think of her?) and as the
strong ramparts of Gibraltar lessened in our rear, I hummed "Pues por
bisarte Minguillo," her coquettish little song of "The Kiss."
Poor Paulina!