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THE TWO ADMIRALS
“Very true – very true, Atwood. Now read it slowly, and Sir
Wycherly will assent, if he approve.”
This was done, and Sir Wycherly not only approved, but it
was apparent to all present, the abashed and confounded Tom
himself not excepted, that he approved, with a feeling akin to
delight.
“That gives a black eye to all the land, – hey! Atwood?” said
Sir Gervaise; who, by this time, had entered into the business in
hand, with all the interest of a regular notary – or, rather, with
that of one, on whose shoulders rested the responsibility of success or failure. “We come next to the personals. Do you wish
to bequeath your furniture, wines, horses, carriages, and other
things of that sort, to any particular person, Sir Wycherly?”
“All – Sir Reginald – Wychecombe – half-blood – old Sir
Michael’s heir,” answered the testator.
“Good – clap that down, Atwood, for it is doing the thing,
as I like to see family affairs settled. As soon as you are ready,
let us hear how it sounds in writing.”
“I furthermore bequeath to the said Sir Reginald
Wychecombe of Wychecombe-Regis, as aforesaid, baronet, all
my personal property, whatsoever,’” read Atwood, as soon as
ready; “’including furniture, wines, pictures, books, horses and
carriages, and all other goods and chattels, of which I may die
possessed, excepting thereout and therefrom, nevertheless,
such sums in money, stocks, bonds, notes, or other securities
for debts, or such articles as I may in this instrument especially
devise to any other person.’ We can now go to especial legacies,
Sir Gervaise, and then another clause may make Sir Reginald
residuary legatee, if such be Sir Wycherly’s pleasure.”
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
“If you approve of that clause, my dear sir, make the usual
sign of assent.”
Sir Wycherly both raised his hand and nodded his head,
evidently quite satisfied.
“Now, my good sir, we come to the pounds – no – guineas?
You like that better – well, I confess that it sounds better on
the ear, and is more in conformity with the habits of gentlemen. Will you now bequeath guineas? Good – first name the
legatee – is that right, Sir Reginald?”
“Quite right, Sir Gervaise; and Sir Wycherly will understand that he now names the first person to whom he wishes
to bequeath any thing else.”
“Milly,” muttered the sick man.
“What? Mills! – the mills go with the lands, Sir Reginald?”
“He means Miss Mildred Dutton,” eagerly interposed
Wycherly, though with sufficient modesty.
“Yes – right – right,” added the testator. “Little Milly –
Milly Dutton – good little Milly.”
Sir Gervaise hesitated, and looked round at Bluewater, as
much as to say “this is bringing coals to Newcastle;” but Atwood took the idea, and wrote the bequest, in the usual form.
“’I give and bequeath to Mildred Dutton,’” he read aloud,
“’daughter of Francis Dutton of the Royal Navy, the sum of –
– ‘ what sum shall I fill the blank with, Sir Wycherly?”
“Three – three – yes, three.”
“Hundreds or thousands, my good sir?” asked Sir Gervaise,
a little surprised at the amount of the bequest.
“Guineas – three – thousand – guineas – five per cents.”
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THE TWO ADMIRALS
“That’s as plain as logarithms. Give the young lady three
thousand guineas in the fives, Atwood.”
“’I give and bequeath to Mildred Dutton, daughter of Francis Dutton of the Royal Navy, the sum of three thousand guineas in the five per cent. stocks of this kingdom.’ Will that do,
Sir Wycherly?”
The old man looked at Mildred and smiled benevolently;
for, at that moment, he felt he was placing the pure and lovely
girl above the ordinary contingencies of her situation, by rendering her independent.
“Whose name shall we next insert, Sir Wycherly?” resumed
the vice-admiral. “There must be many more of these guineas
left.”
“Gregory – and – James – children of my brother Thomas – Baron Wychecombe – five thousand guineas each,” added the testator, making a great effort to express his meaning as
clearly as possible.
He was understood; and, after a short consultation with
the vice-admiral, Atwood wrote out the devise at length.
“’I give and bequeath to my nephews, Gregory and James
Wychecombe, the reputed sons of my late brother, Thomas
Wychecombe, one of the Barons of His Majesty’s Exchequer,
the sum of five thousand guineas, each, in the five per cent.
funded debt of this kingdom.’”
“Do you approve of the devise, Sir Wycherly? if so, make
the usual sign of assent?”
Sir Wycherly complied, as in all the previous cases of his
approval.
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
“Whose name shall we next insert, in readiness for a legacy,
Sir Wycherly?” asked the admiral.
Here was a long pause, the baronet evidently turning over
in his mind, what he had done, and what yet remained to do.
“Spread yourselves, my friends, in such a way as to permit the
testator to see you all,” continued the vice-admiral, motioning
with his hand to widen the circle around the bed, which had
been contracted a little by curiosity and interest; “stand more
this way, Lieutenant Wycherly Wychecombe, that the ladies may
see and be seen; and you, too, Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, come
further in front, where your uncle will observe you.”
This speech pretty exactly reflected the workings of the
speaker’s mind. The idea that Wycherly was a natural child
of the baronet’s, notwithstanding the Virginian story, was uppermost in his thoughts; and, taking the supposed fact in connection with the young man’s merit, he earnestly desired to
obtain a legacy for him. As for Tom, he cared little whether his
name appeared in the will or not. Justice was now substantially done, and the judge’s property being sufficient for his wants,
the present situation of the lately reputed heir excited but little sympathy. Nevertheless, Sir Gervaise thought it would be
generous, under the circumstances, to remind the testator that
such a being as Tom Wychecombe existed.
“Here is your nephew, Mr. Thomas, Sir Wycherly,” he said;
“is it your wish to let his name appear in your will?”
The sick man smiled coldly; but he moved his head, as
much as to imply assent.
“’I give and bequeath to Thomas Wychecombe, the eldest
reputed son of my late brother, Thomas, one of the Barons of
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THE TWO ADMIRALS
His Majesty’s Exchequer,’” read Atwood, when the clause was
duly written; “’the sum of – – , in the five per cent. stocks of
this kingdom.’”
“What sum will you have inserted, Sir Wycherly?” asked
the vice-admiral.
“Fifty – fifty – pounds” said the testator, in a voice clearer
and fuller than he had before used that day.
The necessary words were immediately inserted; the clause,
as completed, was read again, and the approval was confirmed
by a distinctly pronounced “yes.” Tom started, but, as all the
others maintained their self-command, the business of the
moment did not the less proceed.
“Do you wish any more names introduced into your will,
Sir Wycherly?” asked the vice-admiral. “You have bequeathed
but – a-a-a – how much – hey! Atwood? – ay, ten and three
are thirteen, and fifty pounds, make £13,180; and I hear you
have £20,000 funded, besides loose cash, beyond a doubt.”
“Ann Larder – Samuel Cork – Richard Bitts – David
Brush – Phoebe Keys,” said Sir Wycherly, slowly, giving time
after each pause, for Atwood to write; naming his cook, butler,
groom, valet or body-servant, and housekeeper, in the order
they have been laid before the reader.
“How much to each, Sir Wycherly? – I see Atwood has
made short work, and put them all in the same clause – that
will never do, unless the legacies are the same.”
“Good – good – right,” muttered the testator; “£200 –
each – £1000 – all – money – money.”
This settled the point, and the clause was regularly written,
read, and approved.
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
“This raises the money bequests to £14,180, Sir Wycherly – some 6 or £7000 more must remain to be disposed of.
Stand a little further this way, if you please, Mr. Wycher-
ly Wychecombe, and allow the ladies more room. Whose name
shall we insert next, sir?”
Sir Wycherly, thus directed by the eager desire of the admiral to serve the gallant lieutenant, fastened his eyes on the
young man, regarding him quite a minute in silent attention.
“Virginian – same name – American – colonies – good
lad – brave lad – £1000,” muttered the sick man between his
teeth; and, yet so breathless was the quiet of the chamber, at
that moment, every syllable was heard by all present. “Yes –
£1000 – Wycherly Wychecombe – royal navy – “
Atwood’s pen was running rapidly over the paper, and had
just reached the name of the contemplated legatee, when his
hand was arrested by the voice of the young man himself.
“Stop, Mr. Atwood – do not insert any clause in my favour!”
cried Wycherly, his face the colour of crimson, and his chest
heaving with the emotions he felt it so difficult to repress. “I
decline the legacy – it will be useless to write it, as I will not
receive a shilling.”
“Young sir,” said Sir Gervaise, with a little of the severity of
a superior, when he rebukes an interior, in his manner; “you
speak hastily. It is not the office of an auditor or of a spectator,
to repel the kindness of a man about to pass from the face of
the earth, into the more immediate presence of his God!”
“I have every sentiment of respect for Sir Wycherly
Wychecombe, sir; – every friendly wish for his speedy recovery, and a long evening to his life; but, I will accept of the mon-
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THE TWO ADMIRALS
ey of no man who holds my country in such obvious distaste,
as, it is apparent, the testator holds mine.”
“You are an Englishman, I believe, Lieutenant Wychecombe;
and a servant of King George II.?”
“I am not an Englishman, Sir Gervaise Oakes – but an
American; a Virginian, entitled to all the rights and privileges of a British subject. I am no more an Englishman, than Dr.
Magrath may lay claim to the same character.”
“This is putting the case strongly, – hey! Atwood?” answered the vice-admiral, smiling in spite of the occasion. “I am
far from saying that you are an Englishman, in all senses, sir;
but you are one in the sense that gives you national character
and national rights. You are a subject of England.”
“No, Sir Gervaise; your pardon. I am the subject of George
II., but in no manner a subject of England. I am, in one sense,
perhaps, a subject of the British empire; but I am not the less a
Virginian, and an American. Not a shilling of any man’s money will I ever touch, who expresses his contempt for either.”
“You forget yourself, young man, and overlook the future.
The hundred or two of prize-money, bought at the expense of
your blood, in the late affair at Groix, will not last for ever.”
“It is gone, already, sir, every shilling of it having been sent
to the widow of the boatswain who was killed at my side. I
am no beggar, Sir Gervaise Oakes, though only an American.
I am the owner of a plantation, which affords me a respectable independence, already; and I do not serve from necessity,
but from choice. Perhaps, if Sir Wycherly knew this, he would
consent to omit my name. I honour and respect him; would
gladly relieve his distress, either of body or mind; but I cannot
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
consent to accept his money when offered on terms I consider
humiliating.”
This was said modestly, but with a warmth and sincerity
which left no doubt that the speaker was in earnest. Sir Gervaise too much respected the feelings of the young man to
urge the matter any further, and he turned towards the bed, in
expectation of what the sick man might next say. Sir Wycherly
heard and understood all that passed, and it did not fail to
produce an impression, even in the state to which he was reduced. Kind-hearted, and indisposed to injure even a fly, all
the natural feelings of the old man resumed their ascendency,
and he would gladly have given every shilling of his funded
property to be able freely to express his compunction at having ever uttered a syllable that could offend sensibilities so
noble and generous. But this exceeded his powers, and he was
fain to do the best he could, in the painful situation in which
he was placed.
“Noble fellow!” he stuttered out; “honour to name – come
here – Sir Gervaise – bring here – “
“I believe it is the wish of Sir Wycherly, that you would
draw near the bed, Mr. Wychecombe of Virginia,” said the viceadmiral, pithily, though he extended a hand to, and smiled
kindly on, the youth as the latter passed him in compliance.
The sick man now succeeded, with a good deal of difficulty,
in drawing a valuable signet-ring from a finger. – This ring
bore the Wychecombe arms, engraved on it. It was without the
bloody hand, however; for it was far older than the order of
baronets, having, as Wycherly well knew, been given by one of
the Plantagenet Dukes to an ancestor of the family, during the
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THE TWO ADMIRALS
French wars of Henry VI., and that, too, in commemoration of
some signal act of gallantry in the field.
“Wear this – noble fellow – honour to name,” said Sir
Wycherly. “Must be descended – all Wychecombes descended – him – “
“I thank you, Sir Wycherly, for this present, which I prize as
it ought to be prized,” said Wycherly, every trace of any other
feeling than that of gratitude having vanished from his countenance. “I may have no claims to your honours or money; but
this ring I need not be ashamed to wear, since it was bestowed
on one who was as much my ancestor, as he was the ancestor
of any Wychecombe in England.”
“Legitimate?” cried Tom, a fierce feeling of resentment upsetting his caution and cunning.
“Yes, sir, legitimate,” answered Wycherly, turning to his
interrogator, with the calmness of one conscious of his own
truth, and with a glance of the eye that caused Tom to shrink
back again into the circle. “I need no bar, to enable me to use
this seal, which, you may perceive, Sir Gervaise Oakes, is a fac
simile of the one I ordinarily wear, and which was transmitted
to me from my direct ancestors.”
The vice-admiral compared the seal on Wycherly’s watchchain with that on the ring, and, the bearings being principally griffins, he was enabled to see that one was the exact
counterpart of the other. Sir Reginald advanced a step, and
when the admiral had satisfied himself, he also took the two
seals and compared them. As all the known branches of the
Wychecombes of Wychecombe, bore the same arms, viz., griffins for Wychecombe, with three battering-rams quartered, for
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
Wycherly, – he saw, at once, that the young man habitually
carried about his person, this proof of a common origin. Sir
Reginald knew very well that arms were often assumed, as well
as names, and the greater the obscurity of the individual who
took these liberties, the greater was his impunity; but the seal
was a very ancient one, and innovations on personal rights
were far less frequent a century since, than they are to-day.
Then the character and appearance of Wycherly put fraud out
of the question, so far as the young lieutenant himself was concerned. Although the elder branch of the family, legitimately
speaking, was reduced to the helpless old man who was now
stretched upon his death-bed, his own had been extensive;
and it well might be that some cadet of the Wychecombes of
Wychecombe-Regis, had strayed into the colonies and left descendants. Secretly resolving to look more closely into these
facts, he gravely returned the seals, and intimated to Sir Gervaise that the more important business before them had better
proceed. On this hint, Atwood resumed the pen, and the viceadmiral his duties.
“There want yet some 6 or £7000 to make up £20,000,
Sir Wycherly, which I understand is the sum you have in the
funds. Whose name or names will you have next inserted?”
“Rotherham – vicar – poor St. James – gone; yes – Mr. –
Rotherham – vicar.”
The clause was written, the sum of £1000 was inserted, and
the whole was read and approved.
“This still leaves us some £5000 more to deal with, my dear
sir?”
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