Dick Cheveley: His Adventures and Misadventures

Some account of my family, including Aunt Deb--My father receives an offer--A family discussion, in which Aunt Deb distinguishes herself-- Her opinions and mine differ considerably--My desire to go to sea haunts my dreams--My brother Ned's counsel--I go a-fishing in Leighton Park--I meet with an accident--My career nearly cut short--A battle with a swan, in which I get the worst of it--A courageous mother--Mark Riddle to the rescue--An awkward fix--Mark finds a way out of it--Old Roger's cottage--The Riddle family--Roger Riddle's yarns and their effect on me--Mark takes a different view--It's not all gold that glitters--The model--My reception at home.

We were all seated round the tea-table, that is to say, my father and mother, my five sisters, and three of my elder brothers, who were at home--two were away--and the same number of young ones, who wore pinafores, and last, but not least, Aunt Deb, who was my mother's aunt, and lived with us to manage everything and keep everybody in order, for this neither my father nor mother were very well able to do; the latter nearly worn out with nursing numerous babies, while my father was constantly engaged in the duties of the parish of Sandgate, of which he was incumbent.

Aunt Deb was never happy unless she was actively engaged in doing something or other. At present she was employed in cutting, buttering, or covering with jam, huge slices of bread, which she served out as soon as they were ready to the juvenile members of the family, while my eldest sister, Mary, was presiding at the tea-tray, and passing round the cups as she filled them.

When all were served, my father stood up and said grace, and then all fell to with an eagerness which proved that we had good appetites.

"I say, Aunt Deb, Tom Martin has lent me such a jolly book. Please give me another slice before you sit down. It's all about Anson's voyage round the world. I don't know whether I shall like it as well as `Robinson Crusoe' or `Captain Cook's Voyages,' or `Gulliver's Travels,' or the `Life of Nelson,' or `Paul Jones,' but I think I shall from the look I got of it," I exclaimed, as Aunt Deb was doing what I requested.

"I wish, Dick, that you would not read those pestiferous works," she answered, as, having given me the slice of bread, she sat down to sip her tea. "They are all written with an evil intent, to make young people go gadding about the world, instead of staying contentedly at home doing their duty in that state of life to which they are called."

"But I don't understand why I should not be called to go to sea," I replied; "I have for a long time made up my mind to go, and I intend to try and become as great a man as Howe, or Nelson, or Collingwood, or Lord Cochrane, or Sir Sidney Smith. I've just to ask you, Aunt Deb, what England would be without her navy, and what the navy would be unless boys were allowed to go into it?"

"Stuff and nonsense, you know nothing about the matter, Dick. It's very well for boys who have plenty of interest, for sons of peers or members of parliament, or judges or bishops, or of others who possess ample means and influence, but the son of a poor incumbent of an out of the way parish, who knows no one, and whom nobody knows, would remain at the bottom of the tree."

"But you forget, Aunt Deb, that there are ways of getting on besides through interest. I intend to do all sorts of dashing things, and win my promotion, through my bravery. If I can once become a midshipman I shall have no fear about getting on."

"Stuff and nonsense!" again ejaculated Aunt Deb, "you know nothing about the matter, boy."

"Don't I though," I said to myself, for I knew that my father, who felt the importance of finding professions for his sons according to their tastes, had some time before written to Sir Reginald Knowsley, of Leighton Park,--"the Squire," as he used to be called till he was made a baronet, and still was so very frequently, asking him to exert his influence in obtaining an appointment for me on board a man-of-war. This Sir Reginald had promised to do. Aunt Deb, however, had made many objections, but for once in a way my father had acted contrary to her sage counsel, and as he considered for the best. Still Aunt Deb had not given in.

"You'll do as you think fit, John," she observed to him, "but you will repent it. Dick is not able to take care of himself at home, much less will he be so on board a big ship among a number of rough sailors. Let him remain at school until he is old enough to go into a counting-house in London or Bristol, where he'll make his fortune and become a respectable member of society, as his elder brother means to be, or let him become a master at a school, or follow any course of life rather than that of a soldier or a sailor."

I did not venture to interrupt Aunt Deb, indeed it would have been somewhat dangerous to have done so, while she was arguing a point, but I had secretly begged my father to write to Sir Reginald as he had promised, assuring him that I had set my heart on following a naval career, and that it would break if I was not allowed to go to sea. This took place, it will be understood, some time before the evening of which I am now speaking.

Aunt Deb suspected that my father was inclined to favour my wishes, and this made her speak still more disparagingly than ever of the navy.

Tea was nearly over when the post arrived. It only reached us of an evening, and Sarah, the maid, brought in a large franked letter. I at once guessed that it was from Sir Reginald Knowsley, who was in London.

I gazed anxiously at my father's face as he read it. His countenance did not, however, exhibit any especial satisfaction.

"Who is it from?" asked my mother, in a languid voice. "From Sir Reginald," he replied. "It is very kind and complimentary. He says that he has had great pleasure in doing as I requested him. He fortunately, when going down to the Admiralty, met his friend Captain Grummit, who has lately been appointed to the `Blaze-away,' man-of-war, and who expressed his willingness to receive on board his ship the son of any friend of his, but--and here comes the rub--Captain Grummit, he says, has made it a rule to take no midshipmen unless their parents consent to allow them fifty pounds a year, in addition to their pay. This sum, the Captain states, is absolutely necessary to enable them to make the appearance he desires all his midshipmen to maintain. Fifty pounds a year is a larger sum, I fear, than my purse can supply," observed my father when he had read thus far.

"I should think it was, indeed!" exclaimed Aunt Deb. "Fifty pounds a year! Why, that's nearly half of my annual income. It would be madness, John, to make any promise of the sort. Suppose you were to let him go, and to stint the rest of his brothers and sisters by making him so large an allowance--what will be the result, granting that he is not killed in the first battle he is engaged in, or does not fall overboard and get drowned, or the ship is not wrecked, and he escapes the other hundred and one casualties to which a sailor is liable? Why, when he becomes a lieutenant he'll marry to a certainty, and then he'll be killed, and leave you and his mother and me, or his brothers and sisters, to look after his widow and children, supposing they are able to do so."

"But I shall have a hundred and twenty pounds full pay, and ninety pounds a year half-pay," I answered; "I know all about it, I can tell you."

"Ninety pounds a year and a wife and half-a-dozen small brats to support on it," exclaimed Aunt Deb in an indignant tone. "The wife is sure to be delicate, and know nothing about housekeeping, and she and the children will constantly be requiring the doctor in the house."