Tracks Of A Rolling Stone by Henry J. Coke (free e reader txt) 📖

Frightened Out Of His Wits, 

Assuring Us We Should All Be Sawed In Half If We Attempted To

Land.  Sir Frederick Was Not The Man To Disobey Orders Even

On Such A Penalty; He,  However,  Took The Precaution - A Very

Wise One As It Happened - To Reverse The Boat,  And Back Her

In Stern Foremost.

 

No Sooner Did The Keel Grate On The Shingle Than A Score Of

Soldiers Rushed Down To Seize Us.  Before They Could Do So We

Had Shoved Off.  The Shore Was Very Steep.  In A Moment We

Were In Deep Water,  And Our Lads Pulling For Dear Life.  Then

Came A Storm Of Bullets From Matchlocks And Jingals And The

Bigger Guns,  Fortunately Just Too High To Hit Us.  One Bullet

Only Struck The Back-Board,  But Did No Harm.  What,  However, 

Seemed A Greater Danger Was The Fire From The Ship.  Ere We

Were Halfway Back Broadside After Broadside Was Fired Over

Our Heads Into The Poor Devils Massed Along The Beach.  This

Was Kept Up Until Not A Living Chinaman Was To Be Seen.

 

I May Mention Here A Curious Instance Of Cowardice.  One Of

Our Men,  A Ship's Painter,  Soon After The Firing Began And

Was Returned By The Fort's Guns,  Which In Truth Were Quite

Harmless,  Jumped Overboard And Drowned Himself.  I Have Seen

Men's Courage Tried Under Fire,  And In Many Other Ways Since;

Yet I Have Never Known But One Case Similar To This,  When A

Friend Of My Own,  A Rich And Prosperous Man,  Shot Himself To

Avoid Death!  So That There Are Men Like 'Monsieur

Grenouille,  Qui Se Cachait Dans L'eau Pour Eviter La Pluie.' 

Often Have I Seen Timid And Nervous Men,  Who Were Thought To

Be Cowards,  Get So Excited In Action That Their Timidity Has

Turned To Rashness.  In Truth 'On Est Souvent Ferme Par

Faiblesse,  Et Audacieux Par Timidite.'

 

Partly For This Reason,  And Partly Because I Look Upon It As 

Chapter 5 Pg 27

A Remnant Of Our Predatory Antecedents And Of Animal

Pugnacity,  I Have No Extravagant Admiration For Mere

Combativeness Or Physical Courage.  Honoured And Rewarded As

One Of The Noblest Of Manly Attributes,  It Is One Of The

Commonest Of Qualities,  - One Which There Is Not A Mammal,  A

Bird,  A Fish,  Or An Insect Even,  That Does Not Share With Us. 

Such Is The Esteem In Which It Is Held,  Such The Ignominy

Which Punishes The Want Of It,  That The Most Cautious And The

Most Timid By Nature Will Rather Face The Uncertain Risks Of

A Fight Than The Certain Infamy Of Imputed Cowardice.

 

Is It Likely That Courage Should Be Rare Under Such

Circumstances,  Especially Amongst Professional Fighters,  Who

In England At Least Have Chosen Their Trade?  That There Are

Poltroons,  And Plenty Of Them,  Amongst Our Soldiers And

Sailors,  I Do Not Dispute.  But With The Fear Of Shame On One

Hand,  The Hope Of Reward On The Other,  The Merest Dastard

Will Fight Like A Wild Beast,  When His Blood Is Up.  The

Extraordinary Merit Of His Conduct Is Not So Obvious To The

Peaceful Thinker.  I Speak Not Of Such Heroism As That Of The

Japanese,  - Their Deeds Will Henceforth Be Bracketed With

Those Of Leonidas And His Three Hundred,  Who Died For A Like

Cause.  With The Japanese,  As It Was With The Spartans,  Every

Man Is A Patriot; Nor Is The Proportionate Force Of Their

Barbaric Invaders Altogether Dissimilar.

 

Is Then The Victoria Cross An Error?  To Say So Would Be An

Outrage In This Age Of Militarism.  And What Would All The

Queens Of Beauty Think,  From Sir Wilfred Ivanhoe's Days To

Ours,  If Mighty Warriors Ceased To Poke Each Other In The

Ribs,  And Send One Another's Souls Untimely To The 'Viewless

Shades,' For The Sake Of Their 'Doux Yeux?'  Ah! Who Knows

How Many A Mutilation,  How Many A Life,  Has Been The Price Of

That Requital?  Ye Gentle Creatures Who Swoon At The Sight Of

Blood,  Is It Not The Hero Who Lets Most Of It That Finds Most

Favour In Your Eyes?  Possibly It May Be To The Heroes Of

Moral Courage That Some Distant Age Will Award Its Choicest

Decorations.  As It Is,  The Courage That Seeks The Rewards Of

Fame Seems To Me About On A Par With The Virtue That Invests

In Heaven.

 

Though An Anachronism As Regards This Stage Of My Career,  I

Cannot Resist A Little Episode Which Pleasantly Illustrates

Moral Courage,  Or Chivalry At Least,  Combined With Physical

Bravery.

 

In December,  1899,  I Was A Passenger On Board A Norddeutscher

Lloyd On My Way To Ceylon.  The Steamer Was Crowded With

Germans; There Were Comparatively Few English.  Things Had

Been Going Very Badly With Us In The Transvaal,  And The

Telegrams Both At Port Said And At Suez Supplemented The

Previous Ill-News.  At The Latter Place We Heard Of The

Catastrophe At Magersfontein,  Of Poor Wauchope's Death,  And

Of The Disaster To The Highland Light Infantry.  The Moment 

Chapter 5 Pg 28

It Became Known The Germans Threw Their Caps Into The Air, 

And Yelled As If It Were They Who Had Defeated Us.

 

Amongst The Steerage Passengers Was A Major - In The English

Army - Returning From Leave To Rejoin His Regiment At

Colombo.  If One Might Judge By His Choice Of A Second-Class

Fare,  And By His Much Worn Apparel,  He Was What One Would

Call A Professional Soldier.  He Was A Tall,  Powerfully-

Built,  Handsome Man,  With A Weather-Beaten Determined Face, 

And Keen Eye.  I Was So Taken With His Looks That I Often

Went To The Fore Part Of The Ship On The Chance Of Getting A

Word With Him.  But He Was Either Shy Or Proud,  Certainly

Reserved; And Always Addressed Me As 'Sir,' Which Was Not

Encouraging.

 

That Same Evening,  After Dinner In The Steerage Cabin,  A

German Got Up And,  Beginning With Some Offensive Allusions To

The British Army,  Proposed The Health Of General Cronje And

The Heroic Boers.  This Was Received With Deafening 'Hochs.' 

To Cap The Enthusiasm Up Jumped Another German,  And Proposed

'Ungluck - Bad Luck To All Englanders And To Their Queen.' 

This Also Was Cordially Toasted.  When The Ceremony Was Ended

And Silence Restored,  My Reserved Friend Calmly Rose,  Tapped

The Table With The Handle Of His Knife (Another Steerage

Passenger - An Australian - Told Me What Happened),  Took His

Watch From His Pocket,  And Slowly Said:  'It Is Just Six

Minutes To Eight.  If The Person Who Proposed The Last Toast

Has Not Made A Satisfactory Apology To Me Before The Hand Of

My Watch Points To The Hour,  I Will Thrash Him Till He Does. 

I Am An Officer In The English Army,  And Always Keep My

Word.'  A Small Band Of Australians Was In The Cabin.  One

And All Of Them Applauded This Laconic Speech.  It Was

Probably Due In Part To These That The Offender Did Not Wait

Till The Six Minutes Had Expired.

 

Next Day I Congratulated My Reserved Friend.  He Was Reticent

As Usual.  All I Could Get Out Of Him Was,  'I Never Allow A

Lady To Be Insulted In My Presence,  Sir.'  It Was His Queen, 

Not His Cloth,  That Had Roused The Virility In This Quiet

Man.

 

Let Us Turn To Another Aspect Of The Deeds Of War.  About

Daylight On The Morning Following Our Bombardment,  It Being

My Morning Watch,  I Was Ordered To Take The Surgeon And

Assistant Surgeon Ashore.  There Were Many Corpses,  But No

Living Or Wounded To Be Seen.  One Object Only Dwells

Visually In My Memory.

 

At Least A Quarter Of A Mile From The Dead Soldiers,  A Stray

Shell Had Killed A Grey-Bearded Old Man And A Young Woman. 

They Were Side By Side.  The Woman Was Still In Her Teens And

Pretty.  She Lay Upon Her Back.  Blood Was Oozing From Her

Side.  A Swarm Of Flies Were Buzzing In And Out Of Her Open

Mouth.  Her Little Deformed Feet,  Cased In The High-Heeled 

Chapter 5 Pg 29

And Embroidered Tiny Shoes,  Extended Far Beyond Her

Petticoats.  It Was These Feet That Interested The Men Of

Science.  They Are Now,  I Believe,  In A Jar Of Spirits At

Haslar Hospital.  At Least,  My Friend The Assistant Surgeon

Told Me,  As We Returned To The Ship,  That That Was Their

Ultimate Destination.  The Mutilated Body,  As I Turned From

It With Sickening Horror,  Left A Picture On My Youthful Mind

Not Easily To Be Effaced.

 

After This We Joined The Rest Of The Squadron:  The

'Melville' (A Three-Decker,  Sir W. Parker's Flagship),  The

'Blenheim,' The 'Druid,' The 'Calliope,' And Several 18-Gun

Brigs.  We Took Hong Kong,  Chusan,  Ningpo,  Canton,  And

Returned To Take Amoy.  One Or Two Incidents Only In The

Several Engagements Seem Worth Recording.

 

We Have All Of Us Supped Full With Horrors This Last Year Or

So,  And I Have No Thought Of Adding To The Surfeit.  But

Sometimes Common Accidents Appear Exceptional,  If They Befall

Ourselves,  Or Those With Whom We Are Intimate.  If The

Sufferer Has Any Special Identity,  We Speculate On His

Peculiar Way Of Bearing His Misfortune; And Are Thus Led On

To Place Ourselves In His Position,  And Imagine Ourselves The

Sufferers.

 

Major Daniel,  The Senior Marine Officer Of The 'Blonde,' Was

A Reserved And Taciturn Man.  He Was Quiet And Gentlemanlike, 

Always Very Neat In His Dress; Rather Severe,  Still Kind To

His Men.  His Aloofness Was In No Wise Due To Lack Of Ideas, 

Nor,  I Should Say,  To Pride - Unless,  Perhaps,  It Were The

Pride Which Some Men Feel In Suppressing All Emotion By

Habitual Restraint Of Manner.  Whether His Sangfroid Was

Constitutional,  Or That Nobler Kind Of Courage Which Feels

And Masters Timidity And The Sense Of Danger,  None Could

Tell.  Certain It Is He Was As Calm And Self-Possessed In

Action As In Repose.  He Was So Courteous One Fancied He

Would Almost Have Apologised To His Foe Before He

Remorselessly Ran Him Through.

 

On Our Second Visit To Amoy,  A Year Or More After The First, 

We Met With A Warmer Reception.  The Place Was Much More

Strongly Fortified,  And The Ship Was Several-Times Hulled. 

We Were At Very Close Quarters,  As It Is Necessary To Pass

Under High Ground As The Harbour Is Entered.  Those Who Had

The Option,  Excepting Our Gallant Old Captain,  Naturally Kept

Under Shelter Of The Bulwarks And Hammock Nettings.  Not So

Major Daniel.  He Stood In The Open Gangway Watching The

Effect Of The Shells,  As Though He Were Looking At A Game Of

Billiards.  While Thus Occupied A Round Shot Struck Him Full

In The Face,  And Simply Left Him Headless.

 

Another Accident,  Partly Due To An Ignorance Of