An Awkward Commission (8 page)

‘I suspect they must know about navigation, even if your late and unlamented Sir Cloudsley Shovell did not.’

‘There are those that do, and capital seamen they are, Cook and that fellow Bligh to name but two. I know it has become common these days to expect a commissioned officer to find his way about in all manner of things, but to my mind a wise man leaves such matters to the vessel’s master. When I first went to sea as a lad, near forty-year past, I admit in merchant service, a ship’s captain was just that, the fellow who saw to the running of the barky and made certain that each man was in the right place to carry out his given task, as well as to do it proper. It weren’t too different, from what I have heard, in the Navy.’

‘Is that not dangerous?’

‘Not if you has the right people, good people, and unlike that daft Shovell bugger, you listen to ’em. A wise captain has a good master, a wise master has good mates. That Bligh I mentioned started life as a master’s mate, and that was his rating on Cook’s first South Sea adventure, which not many seem to recall. That’s were he learnt his skills, not in a wardroom, or standing watch on the deck of a king’s ship.’

‘No doubt it was in those he learnt to ferment mutiny.’

‘Happen, for there are those who claim he brought it on hisself. Be that as it may, there is no doubt he is a capital seaman, has to be to sail four thousand miles in an open boat, and I would trust him to keep me safe if he was setting my course. That is not summat I would say to every naval captain I have come across.’

‘I am not sure what you are trying to say.’

‘What is a king’s ship for, sir?’ A cautiously raised
eyebrow forced McGann to continue. ‘Why it’s for fighting, is it not?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then the job of a captain on a king’s ship is to make sure that when it comes to the moment of truth, when the enemy is beam on and firing broadsides, that his ship is set for the response. That does not require him to get it in the right place, or set the right suit of sails to do so, for he will have folk on board who know a damn sight more’n he does about such things. But he must have men on his cannon who can fire and reload, even if the air be full of metal and wood splinters. He must be the kind that can lead when boarding and fight with a cutlass, pistol and pike. Now you have been modest on the question of the
Valmy
, but you have yet to smoke that Portsmouth is my home. Ashore I am a man who likes to take a drink, and that I has a fair pair of lugs with which to hear what you might term chatter.’

Seeing McGann tug at a fleshy lobe, emphasising that he did indeed have large and good ears, or lugs as he termed them, Pearce adopted a tone of voice larded with sarcasm. ‘No doubt there has been a certain amount of talk in the taverns. If my experience is anything to go by, most of it will be nonsense.’

McGann’s face filled with blood and his body began to heave, which increased as he confirmed what Pearce had said, so that his words were delivered with a degree of spluttering.

‘I won’t deny that a rate of it is. For one, that there was a midshipman in the
Valmy
capture who did prodigious deeds, and lost half his limbs in the doin’ of it, ’cording to some. Depending on which tale you listened to, and how gone in drink was the tale-teller, he lost an eye, his right or left arm, and for certain at least one of his legs, and had musket balls and sword thrusts enough through his frame to make a fair imitation of a sieve for fine flour.’

Pearce smiled and shrugged. ‘Few tales do not grow in the telling, Mr McGann, perhaps even that of your Cloudsley Shovell.’

As an attempt to change the subject, it failed abysmally. As soon as McGann could control his hilarity, he spoke again. ‘Yet what do I have sitting at my table drinking cider, but that very same fellow, whole and hearty and scarce a scratch, which I do hope you ain’t going to deny. Now filletin’ the tale, and sorting truth from gossip, it seems that what you did was singular.’

‘That word again. I’m beginning not to like it.’

‘If’n it be the one that fits.’ McGann stopped smiling, and for once his face was serious. ‘I am happy to teach what I can, as is every man in my crew, as I know you have found, but there is scarce time enough to turn you into a Cook or a Bligh. So I have this advice for you. Learn what you can, but never forget that the prime job of a Navy officer is fighting, and in that region, you has better credentials than most.’

‘Except I have no desire to be a Navy officer,’

‘You will forgive me for goin’ beyond the bounds of bein’ polite, but what in hell’s name do you have a desire to do, and don’t go telling me again about rescuing your old shipmates. Now I am goin’ to say that I took to you the minute I clapped eyes on you, ’cause there was no showing away about what you had done, and that is a feeling that has only grown on acquaintance.’

‘It is, Captain McGann, returned in full measure.’

‘For which I thank you. I am goin’ to tread the path of discourtesy by alluding to the fact that you are without a father, God rest his soul.’ That was not a sentiment Adam Pearce would have appreciated, but this was not the moment to say so. ‘An’ bein’ without that you lack anyone to advise you.’

‘Which you presumably intend to do?’ said Pearce, his smile now absent.

‘I see I have angered you, young sir, but if I have my intentions are good ones. What I am saying is this: if you doubt where your future lies you could do worse than the King’s service. You’re a fighter, lad, and a proven one, and I will hazard that with what is going on in the new war with the French, that Farmer George and Billy Pitt need fighting men more’n they need men that can get themselves to the South Seas and back again!’

Taberly got his fight, but it took place in Gibraltar, HMS
Leander
calling at the Rock to deliver duplicate despatches, and only because his captain refused to sail on into the Mediterranean with a full supply of wood and water, notwithstanding a dispute with the commanding admiral at Gibraltar, who wanted him back at sea forthwith. The excuse for delay was simple; with no British base in the Inland Sea, and no knowledge of whether purchase would be possible in places like Genoa and Leghorn, nor any faith in the Spanish alliance, a hold full of stores, four months’ supply, was not only wise, but essential. That Captain Tucker, taking advantage of the current state of relations with Spain, could take his net for a day to a hot and arid country he had never visited, and possibly add to his butterfly collection species he had never before seen, was just an accidental dividend.

With only a patrolling naval presence at the port it was the army who provided a contestant, easy to arrange because soldiers, bored stiff on garrison duty, were so easy to bait, as well as being boastful coves who would never allow that the Navy might have a champion to outshine their own. And, as men who had their commissions through purchase, they generally had the means as well as the inclination to wager high, which suited a confident
Leander
wardroom. Michael O’Hagan had been excused duty in anticipation of Lisbon; on the journey to Gibraltar that had continued, his
sole task to train with Clipe, and to hone what were rough skills into those that would tell. They were at it again now, in the waist, again clear of boats, in the space where the first bout had taken place.

‘The pity, O’Hagan,’ Taberly said, ‘is that it will have to take place on our quarterdeck, for we dare not let the crew ashore for fear they will try to run, and there would be a damn near mutiny if we denied them a sight of your victory.’

Michael was looking at the rock, wondering where, on such a small outcrop, they could desert to. ‘I might lose.’

Taberly’s face was bland, the voice emotionless, but it was just as threatening, perhaps more so, than if he had barked his response. ‘You would be best not even thinking in those terms. There will be a great deal of money riding on you, and I doubt that those set above you would take kindly to losing it. You might find that punishment in that quarter would be greater than any you could receive from a fellow boxer.’

‘So,’ Michael said, once Taberly walked away, ‘it is a win or the grating every time I so much as fart.’

Clipe, his previous opponent, patted him with a heavily bandaged and padded hand. ‘The army man will be big, Michael, they tend that way do bullocks, but that does not mean he will have skill.’

‘Do you know, Clipe, I am gentle as a lamb, sober.’

‘But I,’ added Charlie, taking a wardroom donated towel to wipe him down, ‘have seen you in drink, Michael.’

‘Sure, I did my ditch digging by day, Charlie, and took my pleasure when the sun went down.’

There was a slightly sour note in Charlie Taverner’s response. They might have both been pressed from the same tavern, but they had not been friends in the Pelican. Charlie, being a fly sort, a man who had once made his way in the world by fleecing the unwary, had more than once tried to
do the same to Michael O’Hagan. Then there had been a small matter of rivalry over the ‘affections’ of one of the serving girls.

‘I recall where your pleasure was directed.’

Michael brightened, then, lifting the gloom that filled him at the prospect of the coming fight. ‘Ah the sweet Rosie, as plump as a Wicklow cow, an’ twice as willing.’

‘For those that could pay,’ moaned Rufus, which brought a bitter nod of approval from his friend Charlie.

Michael hit the boy gently with one of his own padded hands. ‘You could have had all the coin in the land, Rufus, but I doubt you would have satisfied Rosie. There’s not enough of you.’

‘I got what it takes,’ Rufus protested, his face reddening in a deep blush. ‘You mark my words.’

‘What’s important,’ interrupted Clipe, ‘is whether Michael here has what it takes to beat the army, for if he ain’t, them bastards in the wardroom won’t confine their fury to him.’

‘Boats comin’ off,’ shouted a voice from the gangway. ‘Dozens of the buggers, full o’ red coats and blue.’

Taberly appeared again, this time with Gherson in tow, though he hung back. ‘There’s not a man aboard who has not been to the purser for a loan, O’Hagan. The whole ship is riding on you.’

He passed some of those men on his way up to the deck, Leanders and well as the Griffins who, like the Pelicans had been shifted aboard without so much as a by your leave. First to encourage was Latimer, an elderly sailor with a wrinkled, walnut complexion who had proved, aboard HMS
Griffin
, to be a wise old cove.

‘We beat the French, Michael. Be a pity to lose to the bullocks.’

‘Well said, Lats,’ called Blubber, another Griffin, fat
and sweating in the heat. ‘We’s got money coming from the
Valmy
, Michael, and it’s all on you.’

‘You’se got money comin’ should you ever set foot ashore and free, Blubber,’ added Latimer, before patting his champion and pushing him on. ‘Do your best, an’ I for one will rest content.’

The decks were for visiting dignitaries, and there was no shortage of those. Army officers came aboard in their regimentals, Navy in their best blue coats and snowy breeches. The word had gone out amongst the traders and officials on the Rock, and they were there in numbers too, happy to chuck coins into a half barrel carried round by a midshipman, this to cover the cost of entertaining them with food and wine. The crew were given the shrouds and yards from which to observe the contest and they were now as crowded as the deck, and since the approval of the admiral had been sought and given, as being a welcome diversion on a tedious posting, there would be cheering as well. The most senior officers of both services, along with the
Leander
’s wardroom, sat on the poop.

The army man, Raef Braddock, was huge, giving a good three inches on Michael, with plenty of muscle as well as a face that looked as though it had taken enough punishment to last a lifetime; a flat nose where the bone had been too crushed to repair, heavy eyebrows that did nothing to disguise the thick scar tissue underneath, wooden teeth, which were removed to show pink gums framed by lips that had evidence of half a dozen poorly healed splits.

Taberly had done his homework, for he was no fool, and Michael knew that his opponent was a soldier always in trouble with his superiors, a drinker and brawler who was regularly given several dozen lashes at the wagon wheel, this proved when he removed the cloak he was wearing to reveal a back so
criss-crossed with scars even the hardest of the sailors gasped. The fellow was used to pain, and he and Clipe had opined that the wiles that had failed in the previous fight might be the best avenue in this one, for given this fellow’s reputation, he lacked in brains what he had in sheer bulk. Just hitting him around the body and head might not suffice; Michael had to draw him out so that he could strike in places where a well-delivered blow would down him.

It was odd to O’Hagan, how sensitive to the mood of the crowd he had become. The air of confidence that their champion would triumph took a dent as soon as the soldier appeared, and fell further when he revealed his muscled torso and his lacerated back, so there was a flurry of late betting as some tried to cover themselves both ways. Behind him stood Clipe, Charlie and Rufus, the first to advise, the other two to wipe away blood and sweat. An army major checked his hands to ensure nothing was contained in them, like a piece of lead, while Taberly did the same to Braddock, then both men where brought forward to their marks, just far enough apart for them to beat each other. There the rules were read out; toe to the line, pull back for more than a count of three and the bout was forfeit.

Close to Braddock, and looking into eyes hooded by scarred brows, Michael, reckoned that Clipe had the right of it; he did not reckon he was facing a fellow who would back off from the line. The man would stand his ground and take whatever he was given, his aim to wear down his opponent to the point where he could deliver a killer blow. And looking at the hands, which were huge even to a man who had big mitts of his own, and the thick arms to back them up, he reckoned that the blow could be fatal.

‘Ride his punches at first, Michael,’ Clipe whispered, as if he had not said it a dozen times already. ‘Sway back and see what he’s about before you weigh in total.’