Victory Page 12

  But it might work. And might yet allow him to sail to Nelson.

  He wheeled on Howlett: ‘I’ll deal with Doyle now. Pray clear the lower deck and muster all hands.’

  Astonishment chased puzzlement on the first lieutenant’s features but he touched his hat and summoned the boatswain to set in train the gravity of a captain’s table. The die was cast. Feeling light-headed with the implications of what he proposed, Kydd went below.

  Renzi looked at him strangely, but kept discreetly quiet. He had no role in this and knew it: Kydd would face the consequences of his own decision alone.

  ‘Ship’s company mustered, sir,’ Howlett reported.

  Gravely Kydd left his cabin for the wan sunlight of the main deck. A lectern stood next to a table where the waiting ship’s clerk made much of arranging the books and inkwell. In front of him was a silent mass of seamen, the marines lining the gangways above.

  He stepped up to the lectern. ‘Off caps!’ Jolley roared.

  Then, when all was quiet, Kydd began: ‘Master-at-arms?’

  ‘Two bells this afternoon, Patrick Doyle did strike me, ’is lawful superior, contrary to—’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Jolley. Doyle, is this true?’ An admission would stop Kydd’s plan in its track but, fortunately, the man stood doggedly mute.

  ‘Come, sir, this is no time for silence. Master-at-arms, tell me what happened – in detail, if you please.’

  ‘Well, sir, on bein’ h’ordered to apprehend Doyle, I proceeded down t’ the mess deck, where I saw the prisoner with his mates, like. When I—’

  ‘Who were these mates, then, Mr Jolley?’ Kydd said mildly.

  ‘Oh, er, there was Smythe . . . an’ McVitty and, er, others.’

  ‘Carry on.’

  ‘And then there was words, like. I goes t’ seize Doyle when he tips me a souser on the chops, so I—’

  ‘So Smythe and McVitty are your witnesses. Where were they standing, pray?’

  ‘Standing? Why, I reckons in front o’ the crowd somewheres.’

  ‘Not good enough, Mr Jolley. Was Smythe to larb’d of the others, at the back – the front? Where was McVitty then?’

  ‘Um, t’ starb’d, I reckons, Smythe near ’im.’

  ‘Call Smythe.’ When the sailor arrived, nervously kneading his shapeless cap, Kydd asked him, with all the gravity he could muster, ‘Now this is of vital importance – a man’s life hangs on your answer. Where were you standing when – when this incident took place? Think now!’

  ‘Abaft th’ fore-mast, sir.’

  ‘Upon which side?

  ‘Er . . .’

  ‘We’ll have your oath on it – which?’

  ‘I c-can’t rightly recall.’

  ‘Hmm. Call McVitty.’ A slightly built man with darting eyes stood before him. ‘Now, exactly where was Smythe during this time? Be very careful with your answer, sir!’

  ‘I – I—’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Couldn’t be sure, sir . . .’ The man tailed off.

  ‘Can’t be sure?’ Kydd said, in exaggerated astonishment. ‘This is a fine thing to set before a court-martial.’ He found what he was looking for in the front row: a grey-haired seaman with steady eyes and a slight smile, as though he knew where Kydd was headed. ‘You, sir! Step forward. Were you on the mess-decks forrard when the master-at-arms was struck?’

  ‘I was, Mr Kydd,’ the man said, in a firm voice.

  ‘There, Mr Jolley. As your witnesses are unreliable I have found my own.’

  ‘Thank ’ee, sir,’ the master-at-arms said uncomfortably.

  ‘Well, tell me, who was it that struck the master-at-arms?’

  ‘I didn’t rightly see, sir.’ The expected answer came back instantly.

  Kydd allowed disappointment to show, then called over another – with the same result. ‘Tut, tut. This is very unsatisfactory.’ He drew himself up and hailed the men. ‘Any man who saw who struck the master-at-arms to come forward!’

  A ripple of murmuring spread out – but, extraordinarily, it seemed there was not one who had happened to be looking in that particular direction when the blow was struck.

  ‘Then I rather fear we cannot proceed in this, Mr Jolley.’

  ‘Sir? You can’t – sir, it’s Doyle, an’ that’s a—’

  ‘The court-martial would think the L’Aurores a sad parcel o’ loobies were we to present evidence like this. You’re not thinking to see the ship shamed so publicly, surely, Mr Jolley?’

  ‘It was Doyle! I’d stake m’ life on’t!’

  ‘Not sufficient evidence presented. Case dismissed, Mr Howlett,’ Kydd pronounced crisply.

  The first lieutenant stood as though in doubt of his hearing. ‘Why, sir – it’s – we should question ’em individually, lay out the consequences, get the Articles o’ War and—’

  ‘No. Besides, I’m not finished yet.’ He hid a smile at Howlett’s agitation – this was only the opening act in what he had decided. ‘I’m going to do something about our lamentable situation.’

  Instead of concluding the proceedings and returning to his cabin, he waited for the restlessness in the men to settle into baffled curiosity, then theatrically addressed the stunned Doyle. ‘I’d be beholden to you for your advice, sir, as pertaining to the situation in this frigate.’

  Behind him, Kydd heard the gasps of his officers. The captain – asking a fore-mast hand for his views?

  He smiled grimly. He knew precisely the feeling of the seamen for he had been one himself. ‘Doyle, I know the Alcestes were sorely used – this doesn’t need me to say it. The end of long voyaging, why, a sailor needs to blow out his gaff, raise the wind. I know this – that’s why I’m minded to overlook our little troubles for now.’

  He took a deep breath and continued lightly, ‘In fact I’ll go further. Doyle – I’d like to know your opinion of what the hands would say to a little bargain. They get their ran-tan, grog a-plenty, even their wives aboard for all of a day, two days – even three days on the frolic. In return they agree that when it’s all over, we do our duty and put to sea, no questions asked.’

  While the man visibly tried to grapple with what was being said, Kydd went on, ‘That is, for three days the main-deck as far aft as my cabin and the entire lower-deck is out of bounds to all officers not passing through. No account will be given to grog brought aboard, nor wives and sweethearts for all of this time.’

  A grin surfaced and Doyle shifted restlessly. ‘Ah, but we don’t have the rhino.’

  ‘Out of my own purse I’ll see to it no man goes short of a right good muzzler. It’ll all be chalked down, never fear.’

  ‘Why, sir, an’ that’s right handsome in ye,’ Doyle said happily.

  ‘No hurt to the ship, o’ course.’

  ‘No, y’r honour.’

  ‘Then do talk it over with your mess-mates and let me know—’

  ‘Sir, don’t need to. Ye has y’r bargain.’

  ‘Very well. Mr Howlett, dismiss the hands, if you please.’

  As Kydd turned and marched smartly back to his cabin, the officers crowded anxiously after him.

  ‘Sir!’ Howlett exploded. ‘Am I to understand you’re seriously intending to turn this ship over to – to those false-hearted rogues in disgusting revelry and licentiousness for three entire days? Are you—’

  ‘Hold your tongue, sir!’ Kydd said, white with fury. Howlett and the others fell back, looking at him in shocked disbelief.

  ‘We have one duty, and one only that transcends all others, and that is to go to our country’s aid when its need is greatest. And that means to provide Admiral Nelson with what he must have.

  ‘I was at the Nile. Lack of frigates nearly did for us then – and there’s going to be an even bigger battle soon when Bonaparte makes his move against England and no one knows when or where that’ll be. One thing only is certain: it’ll be frigates that’ll be telling Nelson.’

  ‘B-but—’

  ‘Consider for one moment
what we’ve achieved. The mutiny’s been broke, we’ve a full crew and nothing to stop us sailing in three days. Isn’t that worth a little time out of discipline?’

  ‘Sir, are you prepared to take the word of those mutinous swabs?’

  ‘Most certainly. Mr Curzon?’

  ‘Sir, as I understand it, their complaint was that they’re not paid. And you’re . . . ?’

  ‘This is an evasion. They know damn well that a ship going out of commission doesn’t get a visit from the clerk o’ the cheque until the books have been sent to the Admiralty for the payment to be cleared. No – take my word on’t, it’s your old-fashioned Western Ocean rollick they’re wanting.’

  ‘But there are surely practical difficulties,’ Curzon came back.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘If you’re proposing to confine ’em aboard, how are they going to get their, um, women and grog?’

  ‘There’s ways and means, sir, which you should not be too nice in the enquiring.’

  ‘This is hard to take, sir!’ Howlett blurted. ‘Discipline subverted for common debauchery and—’

  ‘Mr Howlett, how long have you been in the Navy?’

  ‘Sir?’

  Kydd sighed. ‘In your experience, what is the state of a man-o’-war new returned from sea? A nest o’ decorum, the men consulting their appearance, begging leave to give thanks for their deliverance?’

  He smiled mirthlessly. ‘No, sir! Portsmouth Poll and her sisters flock out to get aboard and with ’em they bring their gin, and then, sir, the lower-deck soon resembles a promiscuous bacchanalia. But we don’t pay mind to it for, Mr Howlett, it’s the immemorial custom of the Service.

  ‘So you can see, gentlemen, all we’re about is allowing our brave tars their spree at the beginning, not the end o’ the voyage.’

  Relieved murmurs echoed as the sense of where Kydd was leading penetrated. ‘And the ship’s log will show no more than it always does on these occasions – and this to be sent to the Admiralty only when we make port again.’

  ‘I mislike what they’ll say ashore when they hear of this,’ Howlett said edgily.

  Kydd rounded on him: ‘And who’s to tell ’em? If any wants to come aboard they stay the whole time, no going back to spread the word. After we’ve sailed, who cares? We’re outward bound on the King’s service, as so we should.’

  ‘Er – the grog?’ muttered Curzon. ‘I think we should know . . .’

  ‘If you must. Our only contact with the shore is the cutter with a picked crew o’ trusties who’ll know to keep their mouths brailed up and I dare to say will know where there’s a decent haul of grog to be had. They come on board and there’s no one at the gangway to enquire too closely. It’ll serve.’

  ‘And – and the women?’

  ‘We first throw out a welcome to the wives yonder who’ll set up on the main-deck, then the other, er, ladies on the lower deck.’

  ‘B-but discipline, order?’

  ‘We leave them to it! Any who steps too far will answer to his shipmates as fouling their hawse. There’ll be grog a-swilling and lewd behaviour to set the devil himself to the blush – but none of us in witness, for bounds are set about it.’

  Suddenly grinning at the appalled faces of his officers, Kydd said, ‘I advise you make your arrangements, gentlemen – I mean to throw open the ship at eight bells.’

  Kydd heaved the deepest sigh imaginable: he was at last out in the open sea, sinking Portsmouth astern and leaving behind the ignoble scenes that had enabled them to achieve it. True, there were men comatose in the lee scuppers, and the mess-deck was a bear pit, but that was as nothing compared to the feeling of at last being quit of the land.

  They passed the Isle of Wight in a fluky easterly breeze, losing Kickergill Tower in the far distance and then shaping course outward bound with all sight of old Portsmouth dissolved into a blue haze as their bowsprit eagerly sought the freedom of the seas.

  He was determined to reach Nelson as soon as he could, but this would not be at the cost of prudence. The first thing was to get the ship away and let the healing power of the sea do its work. When L’Aurore’s company was ready, there was the agreeable task of getting to know her, finding out her best points and, as well, the less endearing, a vital process if he was to throw his ship into battle with the confidence that was necessary in a commander.

  It could not be hurried, for their very lives might depend on his deeply knowing his ship. Besides, in the course of events the company would shake down into their new vessel and, in a similar way, each learn about the other and the strengths and weaknesses, quirks and eccentricities that gave a ship its character.

  Finally there was the formal procedure of producing an Admiralty Sailing Qualities Report on the vessel’s capabilities, required for all ships newly taken into service. Kydd’s intention was to stand west under easy sail until the next day, then in the chops of the Channel take his new ship through her paces, ending with a visit to Plymouth to have any defects and changes required made good at the dockyard.

  Then he would set sail for the Mediterranean. That was the plan – but he was uneasily aware that his move to lessen the injustice of the turning over was appreciated for now but solved nothing in the long term. L’Aurore must sail foreign in days with a ship’s company having had no liberty ashore in England for years. Would this, over time, corrode their loyalty and fester into something worse? With a deep breath of salt-tangy sea air, he went below.

  Once again he marvelled at the palatial splendour of his cabin – as spacious as a drawing room and intended for much the same purpose. Tonight he would have his officers to a leisurely dinner and try to ease the strains of the recent past.

  ‘Ho there, Tysoe. See if Mr Renzi is at leisure and then bring alongside a pair o’ gin toddies.’

  It was deeply satisfying to be able to entertain his friend by right rather than the past subterfuge of pretending the ship’s clerk was being constantly required. The affairs of a captain’s confidential secretary were, of course, not to be questioned.

  He greeted his friend while Tysoe occupied himself with the drinks. ‘I’m concerned you’re comfortable. Is the gunroom to your liking at all?’

  ‘A caution to all who’ve sailed in lesser breeds, I can assure you.’

  ‘And your studies – you’ll bless the opulence of your cabin, I’m thinking,’ Kydd added warmly.

  ‘Er, quite,’ Renzi said distantly, avoiding Kydd’s eye.

  ‘Oh? You know you have as well the liberties of the coach, if you wish. It’s in the nature of a public space I’ll agree, quantities of midshipmen and clerks diligently at their workings, but they’ll never dare bother you as they will answer to me.’

  ‘Um, yes, thank you.’

  Kydd frowned. ‘I’m a mort puzzled, Nicholas. Is there anything amiss in your appointments? A prime scholar should not need for—’

  ‘No, no, dear fellow. My establishment is of the first rank, I do declare. It’s just – there’s a matter that’s of a particular distraction to me at the present time which . . . I must think on.’

  ‘If it’s anything you’d like to talk about, m’ friend . . . ?’

  Renzi glanced at him. ‘Well . . . it’s by way of an embarrassment, if you understand me.’

  ‘We’ve no secrets, Nicholas. Clap on sail and fire away, man.’

  ‘Very well. It’s concerning my studies.’

  ‘Carry on,’ Kydd said, trying to look wise.

  ‘Um, as things were proceeding so well I thought to consult a publisher about the book’s prospects – how one comes to an arrangement for its printing and so forth. And, er, there would seem to be some difficulties attendant upon it.’

  ‘Difficulties?’

  ‘The eminent and worldly publisher I spoke to seems to think that the public reader prefers more in the way of entertainment and less of pure theory, quite putting to the blush my strenuous efforts to adduce rigour to my hypotheses.’

  ‘A strange not
ion, Nicholas.’

  ‘And vexing. Without I include distracting and irrelevant details of cannibals and savage damsels disporting naked, his view is that the number of volumes sold will not be sufficient to pay for its printing.’

  ‘What’s that against such scholarship you are bringing to your work? Why, it—’

  ‘Dear fellow,’ Renzi said sadly, ‘writing in these modern times must now be accounted a business, with all the attendant woes of want of treasure, wares to be displayed at the marketplace before the hoi polloi and like concerns. In fine, it would seem he’s asking I amend its delivery, adapt the words to a more modish taste, and that, brother, I will not do.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Those in academia need fear no frowning public, neither those celebrated in the public eye. And should I be desirous of a private publishing, why, this may only be readily accomplished by raising a subscription – not, I hasten to add, for pecuniary reasons, but by this means the attention of the great and good may be secured in advance. And that I’m as yet unknown in literary circles quite dishes any prospects remaining.’

  Kydd saw his friend’s face fall and the worry-lines deepen and his heart went out to him. ‘There must be . . .’

  ‘And that is not the worst of it,’ Renzi said, in a voice so low that Kydd strained to hear. ‘I vowed that when I laid my opus at your sister’s feet, in the same hour I would seek her hand. So what now has become of me?’

  ‘Nicholas, m’ friend, I’m certain it’s you in yourself she’d be satisfied with, not some old book.’

  Renzi looked away and spoke in muffled tones: ‘When I received your letter of recall it was a . . . a relief. You see, Cecilia and I had h-high words and she is now gone off to her world of the highest society and I rather fear she has tired of me.’

  ‘Cec? Never!’ Kydd said, in sincere disbelief.

  ‘No? Then why did she not come – as she always has – to fare us well on our voyaging? And no fond gift? A letter, even?’

  ‘She – she might be busy . . .’

  Renzi pulled himself up stiffly. ‘But this is no concern of yours, sir. I shall consider my position and before that time I’d be obliged should you refrain from mentioning it.’