Hi-Spy-Hi! by Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
AN EPISODE IN THE HISTORY OF THE LOOE DIE-HARDS.
Maybe you have never heard of the East and West Looe Volunteer
Artillery the famous Looe Die-hards? The iniquity of oblivion, says
Sir Thomas Browne, blindly scattereth her poppy, and deals with the
memory of men without distinction to merit of perpetuity.
Time, writes Dr. Isaac Watts
Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away!
And this fine hymn was a favourite with Captain AEneas Pond, the
commanding-officer of the Die-hards. Yet am I sure that while singing
it Captain Pond in his heart excepted his own renowned corps. For were
not the Die-hards an exception to every rule?
In the spring of the year 1803, when King George had to tell his
faithful subjects that the Treaty of Amiens was no better than
waste-paper, and Bonaparte began to assemble his troops and
flat-bottomed boats in the camp and off the coast by Boulogne with
intent to invade us, public excitement in the twin towns of East and
West Looe rose to a very painful pitch. Of this excitement was begotten
the East and West Looe Volunteer Artillery, which the Government kept
in pay for six years and then reluctantly disbanded. The company on an
average numbered sixty or seventy men, commanded by a Captain and two
Lieutenants of their own choosing. They learned the exercise of the
great guns and of small arms; they wore a uniform consisting of blue
coat and pantaloons, with scarlet facings and yellow wings and tassels,
and a white waistcoat; and the ladies of Looe embroidered two flags for
them, with an inscription on each'Death or Victory' on the
oneon the other, 'We Choose the Latter.'
They meant it, too. If the course of events between 1803 and 1809
denied them the chance of achieving victory, 'tis at least remarkable
how they avoided the alternative. Indeed it was their tenacity in
keeping death at arm's length which won for them their famous
The Doctor invented it. (He was surgeon to the corps as well as to
its senior Lieutenant.) The Doctor made the great discovery, and
imparted it to Captain Pond on a memorable evening in the late summer
of 1808 as the two strolled homeward from paradethe Captain moodily,
as became a soldier who for five years had carried a sword engraved
with the motto, 'My Life's Blood for the Two Looes,' and as yet
had been granted no opportunity to flesh it.
But look here, Pond, said the Doctor. Has it ever occurred to you
to reflect that in all these five years since you first enlisted your
company, not a single man of it has died?
Why the devil should he? asked Captain Pond.
Why? Why, by every law of probability! answered the Doctor. Take
any collection of seventy men the sum of whose ages divided by seventy
gives an average age of thirty-fourwhich is the mean age of our
corps, for I've worked it out: then by the most favourable rates of
mortality three at least should die every year.
War is a fearful thing! commented Captain Pond.
But, dammit, I'm putting the argument on a civilian basis! I
say that even in time of peace, if you take any seventy men the sum of
whose ages divided by seventy gives thirty-four, you ought in five
years to average a loss of fifteen men.
Then, murmured Captain Pond, all I can say is that peace is a
fearful thing too.
Yes, yes, Pond! But my point is that in all these five years we
have not yet lost a single man.
Good Lord! exclaimed Captain Pond, after a moment's thought. How
do you account for it?
Professionally the Doctor was the most modest of men. I do not seek
to account for it, said he. I only know that you, my old friend, well
deserve the distinction which you have characteristically
overlookedthat of commanding the most remarkable company in the
Duchy; nay, I will venture to say, in the whole of England.
They had reached the brow of the hill overlooking the town. Captain
Pond halted and gazed for a moment on the veil of smoke above the
peaceful chimneys, then into the sunset fading far down the Channel. A
sudden moisture clouded his gaze, but in the moisture quivered a
new-born light of pride.
Yes, it was true. Hehe in five years' commandhad never lost a
The discovery elated and yet humbled him. His was a simple soul, and
took its responsibilities seriously. He sought not to inquire for what
high purpose Providence had so signally intervened to stave off from
the East and West Looe Artillery the doom of common men. He only prayed
to be equal to it. The Doctor's statistics had, in fact, scared him a
little. I am positive that he never boasted.
And yetI will say this for the credit of us Cornishmen, that we
rejoice one in another's good fortune. Captain Pond might walk humbly
and 'touch wood' to avert Nemesis: he could not prevent the whisper
spreading, nor, as it spread, could he silence the congratulations of
his fellow-townsmen. 'One and All' is our motto, and Looe quickly made
Captain Pond's singular distinction its own
There's Horse, there's Foot, there's Artiller-y,
Yet none comes up with Looe;
For the rest of the Army never says die,
But our chaps never do!
You may realise something of the public enthusiasm when I tell you
that it gave an entirely new trend to the small-talk on the Town Quay.
Hitherto, the male population which resorted there had admitted but
four subjects as worthy of sensible men's discussionthe weather, the
shipping intelligence, religion, and politics: but in a few days the
health of the 'Die-hards' took precedence of all these, and even
threatened to monopolise public gossip. Captain Pond, as the first
reward of notoriety, found himself severely criticised for having at
the outset enlisted a dozen gunners of ripe age, although he had chosen
them for no worse reason than that they had served in his Majesty's
Navy and were by consequence the best marksmen in the two towns. Not
even this excuse, however, could be pleaded on behalf of Gunner Israel
Spettigew (commonly known as Uncle Issy), a septuagenarian who owed his
inclusion entirely to the jokes he cracked. They had been greatly
relished on parade: as indeed they had made him for forty years past
the one indispensable man at Mayor-choosings, Church-feasts,
Carol-practices, Guise-dancings, and all public occasions; and because
they varied little with the years, no one had taken the trouble to
remark until now that Uncle Issy himself was ageing. But now the poor
old fellow found himself the object of a solicitude which (as he
grumbled) made the Town Quay as melancholy as a house in a warren.
The change in the public attitude came on him with a sudden shock.
Good-mornin', Uncle, said Sergeant Pengelly of the Sloop Inn, as the
veteran joined the usual group on the Quay for the usual 'crack' after
breakfast. There was a touch o' frost in the air this mornin'. I hope
it didn't affect you.
What? said Uncle Issy.
We're in for a hard winter this season, went on Sergeant Pengelly
lugubriously. A touch o' frost so early in October you may take as one
o' Natur's warnings.
Ay, chimed in Gunner Tripconey, shaking his head. What is man,
when all's said an' done? One moment he's gallivantin' about in beauty
and majesty, an' the nextphut! as you might say.
Uncle Issy stared at him with neighbourly interest. Been eatin'
anything to disagree with you, Tripconey? he asked.
I have not, Mr. Tripconey answered; and what's more, though born
so recent as the very year his Majesty came to the throne, I've
ordained to be extry careful over my diet this winter an' go slow over
such delicacies as fried 'taties for breakfast. If these things happen
in the green tree, Mr. Spettigew, what shall be done in the dry?
Mr. Spettigew cheerfully ignored the hint. Talkin' of frost and
'taties, he said, have you ever tried storin' them in hard weather
under your bed-tie? 'Tis a bit nubbly till the sleeper gets used to it,
but it benefits the man if he's anyway given to lumbago, an' for the
'taties themselves 'tis salvation. I tried it through the hard winter
of the year 'five by the advice o' Parson Buller, and a better
Christian never missed the point of a joke. 'Well, Israel,' says he
that January, 'how be the potatoes getting along?' 'Your honour,' says
I, 'like the Apostles themselves, thirteen to the dozen; and likewise
of whom it was said that many are cold but few are frozen'hee-hee!
Nobody smiled. If you go strainin' yourself over little witticisms
like that, observed young Gunner Oke gloomily, one of these days
you'll be heving the Dead March played over you before you know what's
happenin': and then, perhaps, you'll laugh on t'other side of your
Uncle Issy gazed around upon the company. They were eyeing him, one
and all, in deadly earnest, and he crept away. Until that moment he had
carried his years without feeling the burden. He went home, raked
together the embers of the fire over which he had cooked his breakfast,
drew his chair close to the hearth, and sat down to warm himself. Yes:
Sergeant Pengelly had spoken the truth. There was an unnatural
touch of frost in the air this morning.
By and by, when William Henry Phippin's son, Archelaus, bugler to
the corps (aged fifteen), took the whooping-cough, public opinion
blamed Captain Pond no less severely for having enlisted a recruit who
was still an undergraduate in such infantile disorders: and although
the poor child took it in the mildest form, his father (not hitherto
remarkable for parental tenderness) ostentatiously practised the
favourite local cure and conveyed him to and fro for three days and all
day long in the ferry-boat which plied under Captain Pond's windows.
The demonstration, which was conducted in mufti, could not be construed
as mutiny; but the spirit which prompted it, and the public feeling it
evoked, galled the worthy Captain more than he cared to confess.
Still, and when all was said and done, the sweets of notoriety
outflavoured the sours. The Troy Artillery, down the coast, had
betrayed its envy in a spiteful epigram; and this neighbourly acid,
infused upon the pride of Looe, had crystallised it, so to speak, into
the name now openly and defiantly given to the corps. They were the
Die-hards henceforth, jealous of the title and of all that it implied.
The ladies of Looe, with whom Captain Pond (an unmarried man) had ever
been a favourite, used during the next few weeks far severer language
towards their neighbours of Troy than they had ever found for the
distant but imminent Gaul and his lascivious advances.
All this was well enough; but Looe had a Thersites in its camp.
His name was Scantlebury; he kept a small general shop in the rear
of the Town Quay, and he bore Captain Pond a grudge of five years'
standing for having declined to enlist him on the pretext of his legs
being so malformed that the children of the town drove their hoops
In his nasty spite this Scantlebury sat down and indited a letter,
To the Right Honble Person as looks after the artillery.
Honble SIR,This comes hoping to find you well as it leaves me
present and I beg leave to tell you there be some dam funny
goings-on, down here to Looe. The E. &W. Looe Volunteer
have took to calling themselves the Die-hards and the way they
is a public scandal, when I tell you that for six weeks there
been no drill in the fresh air and 16s 8d public money has
to T. Tripconey carpenter (a member of the corps) for
the windows of the Town Hall against draughts. Likewise a
sandbags have been taken from the upper battery and moved down
said room (which they use for a drill hall) to stop out the
coming under the door. Likewise also to my knowledge for three
months the company have not been allowed to move at the double
because Gunner Spettigew (who owns to seventy-three) cant
step of thirty-six inches without his heart being effected.
I wish you could see the place where they have been and moved
said upper Battery. It would make you laugh. They have put it
the corner to the eastward where it would have to blow away
eight hundred ton of Squire Trelawny's cliff before it could
clear shot at a vessel entering the haven. Trusting you will
the length of this letter and come down and have a look for
I remain yours truly. A Well-Wisher.
The clerk in Whitehall who opened this unconventional letter passed
it up to his chief, who in turn passed it on to the Adjutant-General,
who thrust it into a pigeon-hole reserved for such curiosities. Now, as
it happened, a week later the Adjutant-General received a visit from a
certain Colonel Taubmann of the Royal Artillery, who was just leaving
London for Plymouth, to make a tour of inspection through the West, and
report on the state of the coast-defences; and during the interview, as
the Adjutant-General glanced down the Colonel's list of batteries, his
eye fell on the name 'Looe'; whereby being reminded of the letter, he
pulled it out and read it for his visitor's amusement.
You may say then that Colonel Taubmann had fair warning. Yet it was
far from preparing him for the welcome he received, three weeks later,
when he drove down to Plymouth to hold his inspection, due notice of
which had been received by Captain Pond ten days before.
What the devil's the meaning of this? demanded Colonel Taubmann as
his post-boy reined up on the knap of the hill above the town. By
'this' he meant a triumphal arch, packed with evergreens, and adorned
with the motto 'Death to the Invader' in white letters on a
He repeated the question to Captain Pond, who appeared a minute
later in full regimentals advancing up the hill with his Die-hards
behind him and a large and excited crowd in the rear.
Good-morning, sir! Captain Pond halted beneath the archway and
saluted, beaming with pride and satisfaction and hospitable goodwill.
I am addressing Colonel Taubmann, I believe? Permit me to bid you
welcome to Looe, Colonel, and to congratulate you upon this perfect
weather. Nature, as one might say, has endued her gayest garb. You have
enjoyed a pleasant drive, I hope?
What the devil is the meaning of this, sir? repeated the Colonel.
Captain Pond looked up at the motto and smiled. The reference is to
Bonaparte. Dear me, I trustI sincerely trustyou did not even for a
moment mistake the application? You must pardon us, Colonel. We are
awkward perhaps in our country wayawkward no doubt; but hearty, I
The Colonel, though choleric, was a good-natured man, and too much
of a gentleman to let his temper loose, though sorely tried, when at
the bottom of the hill the Die-hards halted his carriage that he might
receive not only an address from the Doctor as Mayor, but a large
bouquet from the hands of the Doctor's four-year-old daughter, little
Miss Sophronia, whom her mother led forward amid the plaudits of the
crowd. (The Doctor, I should explain, was a married man of but five
years' standing, and his wife and he doted on one another and on little
Miss Sophronia, their only child.) This item of the programme,
carefully rehearsed beforehand, and executed pat on the moment with the
prettiest air of impromptu, took Colonel Taubmann so fairly aback that
he found himself stammering thanks before he well knew what had
happened: and from that moment he was at the town's mercy. Before he
could drop back in the chaise, and almost before the Mayor, casting off
his robe and throwing it upon the arm of the town-crier, had exchanged
his civic for his military role, the horses were unharnessed and a
dozen able-bodied men tugging at the traces: and so, desperately
gripping a stout bunch of scarlet geraniums, Colonel Taubmann was
rattled off amid a whirl of cheering through the narrow streets, over
the cobbles, beneath arches and strings of flags and flag-bedecked
windows, from which the women leaned and showered rice upon him, with a
band playing ahead and a rabble shouting astern, up the hill to the
battery, where willing hands had wreathed Looe's four eighteen-pounders
with trusses of laurel. The very mark moored off for a target had been
decorated with an enormous bunch of holly and a mottodecipherable, as
Captain Pond, offering his field-glass, pointed out
Our compliments to Bonyparty:
He'll find us well and likewise hearty!
The moment for resistance, for effective protest, had passed. There
was really nothing for the Colonel to do but accept the situation with
the best face he could muster. As the chaise drew up alongside the
battery, he did indeed cast one wild look around and behind him, but
only to catch a bewitching smile from the Mayoressa young and
extremely good-looking woman, with that soft brilliance of complexion
which sometimes marks the early days of motherhood. And Captain Pond,
with the Doctor and Second Lieutenant Clogg at his elbow, was standing
hat in hand by the carriage-step; and the weather was perfect, and
every face in the crowd and along the line of the Die-hards so
unaffectedly happy, thatto be briefthe Colonel lost his head for
the moment and walked through the inspection as in a dream,
acceptingor at least seeming to acceptit in the genial holiday
spirit in which it was so honestly presented. Bang-Bang! went the
eighteen-pounders, and through the smoke Colonel Taubmann saw the
pretty Mayoress put up both hands to her ears.
Damme! said Gunner Spettigew that evening, the practice, if a man
can speak professionally, was a disgrace. Oke, there, at Number Two
gun, must ha' lost his head altogether; for I marked the shot strike
the water, and 'twas a good hundred yards short if an inch. 'Hullo!'
says I, and glances toward the chap to apologise. If you'll believe me,
I'd fairly opened my mouth to tell 'en that nine times out of ten you
weren't such a blamed fool as you looked, when a glance at his eye told
me he hadn' noticed. The man looked so pleased with everythin', I felt
like nudgin' him under the ribs with a rammer: but I dessay 'twas as
well I thought better of it. The regular forces be terrible on their
dignity at times.
Colonel Taubmann had, however, made a note of the Die-hards'
marksmanship, and attempted to tackle Captain Pond on the subject later
in the afternoonalbeit gentlyover a cup of tea provided by the
There is a spirit about your men, Captain he began.
You take sugar? interposed Captain Pond.
Thank you: three lumps.
You find it agrees with you? Now in the Duchy, sir, you'll find it
the rarest exception for anyone to take sugar.
As I was saying, there is certainly a spirit about your men
Health and spirits, sir! In my experience the two go together.
Health and spiritsthe first requisites for success in the military
calling, and both alike indispensable! If a soldier enjoy bad health,
how can he march? If his liver be out of order, if his hand tremble, if
he see black spots before his eyes, with what accuracy will he shoot?
Rheumatism, stone, gout in the system
Colonel Taubmann stared. Could he believe his eyes, or had he not,
less than an hour ago, seen the Looe Artillery plumping shot into the
barren sea a good fifty yards short of their target? Could he trust his
ears, or was it in a dream he had listened, just now, to Captain Pond's
reasons for marching his men home at a pace reserved, in other
regiments, for funerals?In my judgment, sir, a step of twenty-four
to thirty inches is as much as any man over sixty years of age can
indulge in without risk of overstrain, and even so I should prescribe
forty-eight steps a minute as the maximum. Some criticism has been
levelled at menot perhaps without excusefor having enlisted men of
that age. It is easy to be wise after the event, but at the time other
considerations weighed with meas for instance that the men were sober
and steady-going, and that I knew their ways, which is a great help in
commanding a company.
Colonel Taubmann stared and gasped, but held his tongue. There was
indeed a breadth of simplicity about Captain Ponda seriousness,
innocent and absolute, which positively forbade retort.
Nay! went on the worthy man. Carry the argument out to its
logical conclusion. If a soldier's efficiency be reduced by ill-health,
what shall we say of him when he is dead? A dead soldierunless it be
by the memory of his exampleavails nothing. The active list knows him
no more. He is gone, were he Alexander the Great and the late Marquis
of Granby rolled into one. No energy of his repels the invader; no
flash of his eye reassures the trembling virgin or the perhaps equally
apprehensive matron. He lies in his place, and the mailed heel of
Bellonato borrow an expression of our Vicar'spasses over him
without a protest. I need not labour this point. The mere mention of it
bears out my theory, and justifies the line I have taken in practice;
that in these critical times, when Great Britain calls upon her sons to
consolidate their ranks in the face of the Invader, it is of the first
importance to keep as many as possible of them alive and in health.
Captain Pond has mounted his hobby, I see, said the pretty
Mayoress, coming forward at the conclusion of this harangue. But you
should hear my husband, sir, on the health-giving properties of Looe's
Colonel Taubmann bowed gallantly. Madam, I have no need. Your own
cheeks bear a more eloquent testimony to it, I warrant, than any he
Well, and so they do, my love, said the Doctor that evening, when
she repeated this pretty speech to him. But I don't understand why you
should add that anyone could tell he belonged to the regular service.
They have a way with them, said the lady musingly, gazing
out of window.
Why, my dear, have I not paid you before now a score of compliments
Now don't be huffed, darling!of course you have. But, you see, it
came as pat with him as if he had known me all my life: and I'll engage
that he has another as pat for the next woman he meets.
I don't doubt it, agreed her spouse: and if that's what you
admire, perhaps you would like me to compliment and even kiss every
pretty girl in the place. There's no saying what I can't do if I try.
Please don't be a goose, dear! I never said a Volunteer
wasn't more comfortable to live with. Those professionals are
here to-day and gone tomorrowsometimes even sooner.
Not to mention, added the Doctor, more than half-seriously, that
life with them is dreadfully insecure.
Oh! I would never seriously advise a friend of mine to marry
a regular soldier. Hector dear, to be left a widow must be terrible! .
. . But you did deserve to be teased, for never saying a word
about my tea-party. How do you think it went off? And haven't you a
syllable of praise for the way I had polished the best urn? Why, you
might have seen your face in it!
So I might, my love, no doubt: but my eyes were occupied in
Yes, the day had been a wonderful success, as Captain Pond remarked
after waving good-bye to his visitor and watching his chaise out of
sight upon the Plymouth road. The Colonel's manner had been so affable,
his appreciation of Looe and its scenery and objects of interest so
whole-hearted, he had played his part in the day's entertainment with
so unmistakable a zest!
We are lucky, said Captain Pond. Suppose, now, he had turned out
to be some cross-grained martinet . . . the type is not unknown in the
He was intelligent, too, chimed in the Doctor,unlike some
soldiers I have met whose horizon has been bounded by the walls of
their barrack-square. Did you observe the interest he took in my
account of our Giant's Hedge? He fully agreed with me that it must be
pre-Roman, and allowed there was much to be said for the theory which
ascribes it to the Druids.
Alas for these premature congratulations! They were to be rudely
shattered within forty-eight hours, and by a letter addressed to
Captain Pond in Colonel Taubmann's handwriting:
Dear Sir,The warmth of my reception on Tuesday and the
of the good people of Looea hospitality which, pray be
shall number amongst my most pleasant recollectionsconstrain
write these few friendly words covering the official letter
receive by this or the next post. In the hurry of leave-taking
no time to discuss with you certain shortcomings which I was
compelled to note in the gunnery of the E. and W. Looe
Artillery, or to suggest a means of remedy. But, to be brief,
think a fortnight's or three weeks' continuous practice
all local distractions, and in a battery better situated
own for the requirements of effective coast-defence, will give
company that experience for which mere enthusiasm, however
in itself, can never be an entirely satisfactory substitute.
On the 2nd of next month the company (No. 17) of the R.A. at
stationed at Pendennis Castle, Falmouth, will be sailing for
Gibraltar on active service. Their successors, the 22nd
at Chatham, will not be due to replace them until the New
And I have advised that your company be ordered down to the
fill up the interval with a few weeks of active training.
May I say that I was deeply impressed by the concern you show
health of your men? I agreed with well-nigh everything you
me on this subject, and am confident you will in turn agree
that nothing conduces more to the physical well-being of a
troops, large or small, than an occasional change of air.
With kind regards and a request that you will remember me to
ladies who contributed so much to the amenities of my visit.
Believe me, dear sir, your obedient servant,
H. R. Taubmann (Lieut.-Colonel R.A.).
I will dare to say that Colonel Taubmann never fired a shot in his
life round-shot, bomb or grenade, grape or canisterwith a tithe of
the effect wrought by this letter. For a whole day Looe was stunned,
And in Christmas week, of all holy seasons! commented Gunner
Spettigew. And the very first Christmas the Die-hards have started a
And this, said Sergeant Pengelly, with bitter intonation, is
Peace on Earth and Good-will toward men, or what passes for such in the
regulars. Wi' the carol-practisin' begun too, an' nobody left behind to
take the bass!
Tis the Army all over! announced William Henry Phippin, who had
served as bo'sun's mate under Lord Howe. I always was in two minds
about belongin' to that branch o' the Service: for, put it how you
will, 'tis a come-down for a fellow that has once known the
satisfaction to march ahead of 'em. There was a sayin' we had aboard
the old Queen Charlotte 'A messmate afore a shipmate,' we
said, 'an' a shipmate afore a dog, an' a dog, though he be a yellow
dog, afore a sojer.' But what vexes me is the triumphant arches we
wasted on such a chap.
My love, said the Doctor to his spouse, I congratulate you on
your fancy for professional soldiers. You are married to one,
It comes to that, or very nearly. He groaned. To be separated for
three weeks from my Araminta! And at this time of all others!for the
lady was again expecting to become a mother: as in due course (I am
happy to say) she did, and presented him with a bouncing boy and was in
turn presented with a silver cradle. But this, though the great event
of the Doctor's mayoralty, will not excuse a longer digression.
Captain Pond kept his head, although upon his first perusal of the
letter he had come near to fainting, and for a week after walked the
streets with a tragic face. There was no appeal. Official instructions
had followed the Colonel's informal warning. The die was cast. The
Die-hards must march, must for three weeks be immured in Pendennis
Castle, that infernal fortress.
To his lasting credit he pretermitted no effort to prepare his men
and steel them against the ordeal, no single care for their
creature-comforts. Short though the notice was, he interviewed the
Mayoress and easily persuaded her to organise a working-party of
ladies, who knitted socks, comforters, woollen gloves, etc., for the
departing heroes, and on the eve of the march-out aired these articles
singly and separately that they might harbour no moisture from the
feminine tears which had too often bedewed the knitting. He raised a
house-to-house levy of borrowed feather-beds. Geese for the men's
Christmas dinner might be purchased at Falmouth, and joints of beef,
and even turkeys (or so he was credibly informed). But on the fatal
morning he rode out of Looe with six pounds of sausages and three large
Christmas puddings swinging in bags at his saddle-bow.
What had sustained him was indignation, mingled with professional
pride. He had been outraged, hurt in the very seat of local patriotism:
but he would show these regulars what a Volunteer company could do.
Yes, and (Heaven helping him) he would bring his men home unscathed, in
health, with not a unit missing or sick or sorry. Out of this valley of
humiliation every man should returnay, and with laurels!
Forbear, my Muse, to linger over the scene of that departure!
Captain Pond (I say) rode with six pounds of sausages and three
puddings dangling at his saddle-bow. The Doctor rode in an
ambulance-waggon crammed to the tilt with materials ranging from a
stomach-pump to a backgammon-board; appliances not a few to restore the
sick to health, appliances in far larger numbers to preserve health in
the already healthy. Mr. Clogg, the second lieutenant, walked with a
terrier and carried a bag of rats by way of provision against the dull
winter evenings. Gunner Oke had strapped an accordion on top of his
knapsack. Gunner Polwarne staggered under a barrel of marinated
pilchards. Gunner Spettigew travelled light with a pack of cards, for
fortune-telling and Pope Joan. He carried a Dream-Book and Wesley's
Hymns in either hip-pocket (and very useful they both proved). Uncle
Issy had lived long enough to know that intellectual comforts are more
lasting than material ones, and cheaper, and that in the end folks are
glad enough to give material comforts in payment for them.
It was in the dusk of the December eveningthe day, to be precise,
was Saturday, and the hour 5 p.m.that our Die-hards, footsore and
dispirited, arrived in Falmouth, and tramped through the long streets
to Pendennis. The weather (providentially) was mild; but much rain had
fallen, and the roads were heavy. Uncle Issy had ridden the last ten
miles in the ambulance, and the print of a single-Glo'ster cheese
adhered thereafter to the seat of his regimentals until the day when he
handed them in and the East and West Looe Volunteer Artillery passed
out of this transitory life to endure in memory.
They found the Castle in charge of a cross-grained, superannuated
sergeant and his wife; of whom the one was partially deaf and the other
totally. Also the regulars had marched out but three days before, and
the apartmentsthe dormitories especiallywere not in a condition to
propitiate the squeamish. Also No. 17 Company of the Royal Artillery
had included a notable proportion of absent-minded gunners who, in the
words of a latter-day bard, had left a lot of little things behind
them. Lieutenant Clogg, on being introduced to his quarters, openly and
with excuse bewailed the trouble he had taken in carrying a bag of rats
many weary miles. A second terrier would have been a wiser and less
superfluous investment. As for the commissariat, nothing had been
provided. The superannuated sergeant alleged that he had received no
orders, and added cheerlessly that the shops in Falmouth had closed an
hour ago. He wound up by saying incisively that he, for his part, had
no experience of Volunteers nor of what they expected: and (to pass
over this harrowing part of the business as lightly as may be) the
Die-hards breakfasted next morning on hastily-cooked Christmas
The garrison clock had struck eleven before, dog-tired as they were,
they had reduced the two dormitories to conditions of cleanliness in
which it was possible for self-respecting men to lie down and take
their sleep. And so they laid themselves down and slept, in their
dreams remembering Looe and their families and rooms that, albeit
small, were cosy, and beds that smelt of lavender. Captain Pond had
apportioned to each man three fingers of rum, and in cases of suspected
catarrh had infused a dose of quinine.
It was midnight before he lay down in his quarters, on bedding he
had previously aired before a sullen fire. He closed his eyesbut only
to sleep by fits and starts. How could his men endure three weeks of
this? He must keep them occupied, amused. . . . He thought of amateur
theatricals. . . . Good God! how unsatisfying a supper was biscuit,
after a long day's ride! Was this how the regular army
habitually lived? . . . What a pig's-sty of a barracks! . . . Well, it
would rest upon Government, if he buried his men in this inhospitable
hole. He raised himself on his pillow and stared at the fire. Strange,
to think that only a few hours ago he had slept in Looe, and let the
hours strike unheeded on his own parish clock! Strange! And his men
must be feeling it no less, and he was responsible for them, for three
weeks of this and for their good behaviour!
Early next morning (Sunday) he was astir, and having shaved and
dressed himself by lantern light, stepped down to the gate and roused
up the superannuated sergeant with a demand to be conducted round the
The sergeantwho answered to the incredible name of Topasewanted
to know what was the sense of worriting about the fortifications at
this hour of the day: and, if his language verged on insubordination,
his wife's was frankly mutinous. Captain Pond heard her from her bed
exhorting her husband to close the window and not let in the draught
upon her for the sake of any little Volunteer whipper-snapper in
creation. What next? she should like to know, and Tell the pestering
man there's a bed of spring bulbs planted close under the wall, an' if
he goes stampin' upon my li'l crocuges I'll have the law of him.
Captain Pond's authority, however, was not to be disobeyed, and a
quarter of an hour later he found himself, with Sergeant Topase beside
him, on the platform of the eighteen-pounder battery, watching the
first rosy streaks of dawn as they spread and travelled across the
misty sea at his feet. The hour was chilly, but it held the promise of
a fine day; and in another twenty minutes, when the golden sunlight
touched the walls of the old fortress and ran up the flagstaff above it
in a needle of flame, he gazed around him on his temporary home, on the
magnificent harbour, on the town of Falmouth climbing tier upon tier
above the waterside, on the scintillating swell of the Channel without,
and felt his chest expand with legitimate pride.
By this time the Doctor and Lieutenant Clogg had joined him, and
their faces too wore a hopefuller, more contented look. Life at
Pendennis might not prove so irksome after all, with plenty of
professional occupation to relieve it. Captain Pond slipped an arm
within the Doctor's, and together the three officers made a slow tour
of the outer walls, plying Sergeant Topase with questions and
disregarding his sulky hints that he, for his part, would be thankful
to get a bite of breakfast.
But what have we here? asked Captain Pond suddenly, coming to a
Their circuit had brought them round to the landward side of the
fortress, to a point bearing south by east of the town, when through a
breachyes, a clean breach!in the wall they gazed out across the
fosse and along a high turfy ridge that roughly followed the curve of
the cliffs and of the seabeach below. Within the wall, and backed by
it,save where the gap had been broken,stood a group of roofless and
half-dismantled outbuildings which our three officers studied in sheer
What on earth is the meaning of this?
Married quarters, answered Sergeant Topase curtly. You won't want
Leastways, that's what they was until three days ago. The workmen
be pullin' 'em down to put up new ones.
And in pulling them down they have actually pulled down twelve feet
of the wall protecting the fortress?
Certainly: a bit of old wall and as rotten as touch. Never you
fret: the Frenchies won't be comin' along whilst you're
here!thus Sergeant Topase in tones of fine sarcasm.
By whose orders has this breach been made? Captain Pond demanded
Nobody's. I believe, if you ask me, 'twas just a little notion of
the contractor's, for convenience of getting in his material and
carting away the rubbish. He'll fix up the wall again as soon as the
job's over, and the place will be stronger than ever.
Monstrous! exclaimed Captain Pond. Monstrous! And you tell us he
has done this without orders and no one has interfered!
I don't see what there is to fret about, savin' your presence, the
old sergeant persisted. And, any way, 'twon't take the man three days
at the outside to cart off the old buildings. Allow another four for
getting in the new material
Seven days! seven days! And Great Britain engaged at this moment in
the greatest war of its history! Oh, Doctor, Doctorthese
Sergeant Topase shrugged his shoulders, and, concluding that his
duties as a cicerone were at an end, edged away to the gatehouse for
Oh, these professionals! ingeminated Captain Pond again, eyeing
the breach and the dismantled married quarters. A whole seven days!
And for that period we are to rest exposed not only to direct attack,
but to the gaze of the curious publicnay, perchance even (who knows?)
to the paid spies of the Corsican! Doctor, we must post a guard here at
once! Incredible that even this precaution should have been neglected!
Nay, with a sudden happy inspiration he clapped the Doctor on the
shoulder, did he say 'twould take three days to level this sorry
It shall not take us an hour! By George, sir, before daylight
to-morrow we'll run up a nine-pounder, and have this rubbish down in
five minutes! Yes, yesand I'd do it to-day, if it weren't the
I don't see that the Sabbath ought to count against what we may
fairly call the dictates of national urgency, said the Doctor. Salus
patriae suprema lex.
Latin. It means that when the State is endangered all lesser
considerations should properly go to the wall. To me your proposal
seems a brilliant one; just the happy inspiration that would never
occur to the hidebound professional mind in a month of Sundays. And in
your place I wouldn't allow the Sabbath or anything else
A yell interrupted hima yell, followed by the sound of a scuffle
and, after a moment's interval, by a shout of triumph. These noises
came from the roofless married quarters, and the voice of triumph was
Lieutenant Clogg's, who had stepped inside the building while his
seniors stood conversing, and now emerged dragging a little man by the
collar, while with his disengaged hand he flourished a paper excitedly.
A spy! A spy! he panted.
I caught him in the act! Mr. Clogg thrust the paper into his
Captain's hands and, turning upon his captive, shook him first as one
shakes a fractious child, and then planted him vigorously on his feet
and demanded what he had to say for himself.
The captive could achieve no more than a stutter. He was an
extremely little man, dressed in the Sunday garb of a civilianfustian
breeches, moleskin waistcoat, and a frock of blue broadcloth, very
shiny at the seams. His hat had fallen off in the struggle, and his
eyes, timorous as a hare's, seemed to plead for mercy while he
stammered for speech.
Good Lord! cried Captain Pond, gazing at the paper. Look,
A sketch plan!
A plan of our defences!
Damme, a plan of the whole Castle, and drawn to scale! Search him,
Clogg; search the villain!
Wha-wha-what, stuttered the little man, WHAT'S the
m-m-meaning of this? S-some-body shall p-pay, as sure as III
Pay, sir? thundered Captain Pond as Mr. Clogg dragged forth yet
another bundle of plans from the poor creature's pocket. You have seen
the last penny you'll ever draw in your vile trade.
Wha-what have III DONE?
Heaven knows, sirHeaven, which has interposed at this hour to
thwart this treacherous designalone can draw the full indictment
against your past. Clogg, march him off to the guard-room: and you,
Doctor, tell Pengelly to post a guard outside the door. In an hour's
time I may feel myself sufficiently composed to examine him, and we
will hold a full inquiry to-morrow. Good Lord!Captain Pond removed
his hat and wiped his brow. Good Lord! what an escape!
I'llI'll have the l-l-law on you for t-th-this! stammered the
prisoner sulkily an hour later when Captain Pond entered his cell.
No other answer would he give to the Captain's closest
interrogatory. Only he demanded that a constable should be fetched. He
was told that in England a constable had no power of interference with
Y-you are a s-s-silly fool! answered the prisoner, and turned away
to his bench.
Captain Fond, emerging from the cell, gave orders to supply him with
a loaf of bread and a pitcher of water. Down in Falmouth the bells were
ringing for church. In the Castle a Sabbath stillness reigned. Sergeant
Topase, napping and reading his Bible by turns before the gatehouse
fire, remarked to his wife that on the whole these silly amachoors were
giving less trouble than he had expected.
At 7.45 next morning Gunner Israel Spettigew, having relieved guard
with Gunner Oke at the breach, and advised him to exhibit a dose of
black-currant wine before turning in (as a specific against a chill in
the extremities), was proceeding leisurably to cut himself a quid of
tobacco when he became aware of two workmencarpenters they appeared
to be in the dim lightapproaching the entry.
Who goes there? he challenged. 'Tis no use my asking you for the
countersign, because I've forgotten it myself: but there's No
Admittance except on Business.
That's what we've come upon, said one of the workmen. By the
looks of 'ee you must be one of the new Artillerymen from Looe that
can't die however hard they want to. But didn' Jackson tell you to look
out for us?
Why, our Clerk of the Works. He's somewhere inside surely? He
usually turns up half an hour ahead of anyone else, his heart's so set
on this job.
I haven't seen 'en go by, to my knowledge, said Uncle Issy.
The two men looked at one another. Not turned up? Then there must
be something the matter with 'en this morning: taken poorly with
over-work, I reckon. Oh, you can't miss Jackson when once you've set
eyes on hima little chap with a face like a rabbit and a 'pediment in
Hey? said Uncle Issy sharply. What? A stammerin' little slip of a
chap in a moleskin waistcoat?
That's the man. Leastways I never see'd him wear a moleskin
waistcoat, 'xcept on Sundays.
But it was Sunday!
Oh, tell metell me, that's dear souls! Makes a whistly noise in
his speechdo he?like a slit bellows?
That's Jackson, to a hair. Butbutthen you hev seen 'en?
Seen 'en? cried Uncle Issy. A nice miss I ha'n't helped to bury
'en, by this time! Oh yes . . . if you want Jackson he's inside: an'
what's more, he's a long way inside. But you can't want him half so
much as he'll be wantin' you.