Part 1 (2/2)
”Jacky-Oh!” ”h.e.l.l Fire Jack!” (owing to the revolution he made in Naval gunnery), ”All-Jelly” (reminiscent of Epsom Race Course on Derby Day, but again due probably to the deadly effect of his s.h.i.+p's gunnery), ”The Little Admiral” (this in polite society), ”Silent Jack”
and ”Dreadnought Jack.”
Jellicoe, as everyone connected with the Navy knows, was a Dreadnought man, and one of Lord Fisher's most enthusiastic pupils.
The nickname most in favour in the ”forecastle” for Sir John is h.e.l.l Fire Jack, yet there is nothing of the fire-eating commander or the bold buccaneer in Admiral Jellicoe's personal appearance. He was always a little boy--his mother and father's ”little boy,” without a doubt--and, physically, he is a little man. Nelson might have been able to give him half an inch in height. And it is worth remembering that the majority of great leaders of men have been small of stature, from Julius Caesar to Napoleon, Domville, Sir John French or the late great little Lord Roberts.
Marat was insignificant to look at, and the Kaiser, in his socks, hardly suggests the leader of the Race of Nietzsche's Great Blonde Beasts.
Not only does Jellicoe lack inches, but Nature built him on the lean, light pattern, yet hard as well-tempered steel. He possesses a vast amount of vitality and reserve force.
Time has given his bright, piercing eyes shrewdness and kindliness; they are the eyes of a man who, while he is willing to give all, demands all--or nothing--from those who serve. His nose is long and adventurous rather than Napoleonic.
Quiet as a boy, he has less to say as a man when he is at work. But among his intimate friends he has the reputation of a brilliant conversationalist and a wit, and when Jellicoe speaks those about him listen. At sea he has not the usual flow of highly-coloured language generally a.s.sociated with those who go down to the sea in s.h.i.+ps. A small vocabulary has always sufficed him. His mouth is remarkable; the thin, lightly-compressed lips suggest determination and severity; but they turn up at the corners in a curious way, and one feels instinctively that the disciplinarian has a delicious sense of humour.
Sir John has an elder brother, who is in the Church; beyond a general family likeness there seems little resemblance between the two men. It is enough that the life of each has been given to the services of his G.o.d and his Country.
Jellicoe's sister, on the other hand, bears a quite remarkable likeness to the ”Little Admiral.” The same keen, flas.h.i.+ng eyes, adventurous nose and firm mouth--a trifle more tender of course, but with the same delightful suggestion of fun lurking at the corners.
One day, not so very long ago, Miss Jellicoe and a friend had stopped at a street corner to watch a pavement artist at work. He had just completed a picture of the Kaiser, a not too flattering one, and he was busy on the outlines of another picture.
As the portrait progressed beneath his chalky fingers the man occasionally sat upright and surveyed his work and gave a sly chuckle.
A minute or two later the ”Little Admiral's” sister--who is as modest and retiring as her brother--started and gave a cry of embarra.s.sment.
A small boy, also watching the work of the pavement artist, had nudged her:
”He's a drawing of yer picture, Miss!”
And so apparently he was. There, in bold chalky outlines, were the adventurous nose, the bright eyes, the humorous mouth.
Miss Jellicoe tried to escape through the gathering crowd.
”'er portrait,” shouted the artist in disgusted tones. ”Not likely!
Carn't you recognize h.e.l.l Fire Jack, you idjit--him as is going ter give the Road 'Og here a early mornin' dip in the North Sea!”
If he had glanced at Miss Jellicoe he might have received a shock--and been able to congratulate himself on the cleverness of his portrait.
But she fled.
In Sir John Jellicoe one realizes a man, something infinitely greater than the human machine beloved of the Prussian Military Caste. A man, human and humane; devoid of fear, with an unbreakable will. Those gentle eyes can flame and the quiet voice thrill when a command is issued, though he seldom raises it above the ordinary conversational tone.
Probably no one really knows Admiral Jellicoe but his men. And the Navy likes to keep her heroes to herself. She does not talk about them: they are one of her secrets. She kept Nelson to herself, and no one talked about him--beyond the quarter deck or outside the forecastle--until after his death. Then the sea gave up her secret and entrusted the memory of one of England's greatest heroes to her keeping.
And to-day the sea has given us Jellicoe. Just in time--lest we forget.
<script>