The Fortune of War (21 page)

'Not at all,' said Stephen. 'I seized upon your property and sold your uniforms to Byron, who was naked, and much of your size; you left me the richer for the bargain.'

'I am glad of that: it preyed upon my mind. After all your kindness..

'Pray, Mr Herapath, do you spend all your hours with Li Po? I had hoped you might perhaps study physic on your return: you have a real gift for medicine.'

'And so I should, if I had the means. As it is, I have read Galen and what other books I can come at. But I hope that when my translation is published, the profits will allow me to return to Harvard and qualify myself as a physician. I have great hopes: Louisa has a friend, a childhood friend from the South, who has made interest with a Philadelphia publisher, and he gives me every reason to suppose that all will be well. The book may come out in a handsome quarto next year, with an octavo edition to follow, if the demand is great enough! In the meantime we live upon an allowance that my father is good enough to make me. But if only he would - ' Herapath checked himself, coughed, and said, 'My father desires me to make you his best compliments, and he hopes for the honour of your company at dinner tomorrow.'

'I should be happy to wait upon him,' said Stephen, rising, for Mrs Wogan had come back, followed by a slatternly black woman and two small black boys with the tea-tray and its grubby appurtenances.

'I do hope it will be to your liking,' said Mrs Wogan, looking anxiously into the pot. 'Sally is better at mint-juleps than tea.'

At one time Stephen had been marooned on a bare rock in the south Atlantic, and his only drink was the warm rainwater that remained in the guano-filled hollows: it had been more disagreeable than Mrs Wogan's tea, but only very slightly so. The taste of his bitter cup stayed with him the rest of the day, although he had endeavoured to qualify it by eating lumps of an amorphous grey substance, said to be spoon-bread, a Southern delicacy.

He was conscious of it when he woke in the morning, and he could still readily evoke the curious mixture of tar, molasses and perhaps verdigris when Herapath came to the Asciepia to fetch him.

'Do you think, sir,' said Herapath uneasily, 'that I should pay my respects to Captain Aubrey?'

'I do not,' said Stephen. 'He would consider it his duty to hang you for having run from the Leopard; and the excitement, the agitation, in his enfeebled state, would be very bad for him. I have just agreed with Dr Choate that no visitors should be allowed, particularly the people from the Navy Department who so upset him the other day.'

The Navy Department had upset Jack Aubrey, but not very much: not nearly so much as that distant victory off the Demerara river. Not nearly so much as the view from his windows, one of which commanded the harbour and the other the moorings of the American men-of-war. It was not that a great deal happened, since all the merchantmen were tied up, sometimes two deep, all along the wharves and little was to be seen in motion apart from small craft and fishing-boats; but what did happen moved him as he had very rarely been moved before.

Apart from the intervals of meals and medical care and the cleaning of his room, he spent the daylight hours with his telescope to his eye. He knew the powerful American frigates intimately well - he even knew a great many of their officers and men, quite apart from those officers from the Constitution whose acquaintance he had made during the voyage and who came to visit him - and he watched them with passionate intensity. Three of them:

President, a forty-four-gun twenty-four-pounder, wearing a commodore's broad pendant; Congress, thirty-eight; and of course his own dismantled Constitution. And he had but to swing round and steady his glass on the other windowsill and there in the offing he would catch the topgallantsails of the blockading squadron. Sometimes a frigate, Aeolus or Belvidera or Shannon, would come right into the outer harbour and reconnoitre, and his heart would beat so that he had to hold his breath to keep the glass from moving -beat with wild notions of a cutting-out attack or a landing to carry the forts from behind.

Constitution was undergoing massive repairs and alterations: he could not flatter himself that this was all owing to the damage that Java had inflicted, but she had certainly made her contribution, and the Constitution would not be a fighting ship for some months to come. The President and Congress, however, were rapidly preparing for sea, and he watched every move: he saw their rigging new set-up, noted the seamanlike way in which the President re-rove her bowsprit gammoning in a single afternoon, saw their stores come aboard, hundreds and hundreds of casks, saw them complete their water, exercise their hands aloft, take in their powder from the hoy. They were almost on the wing, waiting perhaps for no more than a brisk south-wester and the ebbing tide to shift the blockading ships far enough north and east to let them slip out into the Atlantic.

It was when his glass had been long focused on President's quarterdeck, trying to make out the exact nature of her carronades, that he heard a remote cheering from the harbour. He turned quickly - he was nimble enough now, and every day he felt his strength returning - and there was another American frigate, standing in under topsails and jib. Somehow she had evaded the blockading squadron although the wind was moderate, a little south of east, and had been so all day: perhaps they were manned entirely by blind lunatics. But this was no time for recrimination he levelled his telescope and stared, his whole being concentrated in that eye.

A thirty-eight-gun frigate; fine entry, smooth run; twenty-eight long eighteen-pounders, twenty-four thirty-pound carronades; two traversing long eighteen-pounders on her forecastle and another on the quarterdeck; deck priddied to the nines, falls flemished. The Chesapeake. As he watched, an officer on her quarterdeck raised his speaking-trumpet: before he could hear the order the frigate's jib and topsails vanished in one movement; she glided on in a long curve, stemming the tide, and picked up her moorings just as the way came off her. At the same moment her starboard quarter-boat splashed down, the bargemen jumped into it, and her captain pulled ashore. It could not have been done better in any ship that Jack had served in, not even when Old Jarvie had the Channel Fleet. The only thing that he could have taken exception to was the spectacle of three tall midshipmen leaning on the rail in nonchalant attitudes, chewing tobacco and squirting the juice over the side.

'Will you take your dinner now, sir?' asked Mary Sullivan. ' 'Tis twice Bridey has been up, and you looking at your old boats. Do you wish it cold, for all love, the good codfish? Well, well, eat it up while there's some warmth to it still. There, now. And the Doctor is having his dinner in the town, so he is, God bless him.'

Mr Herapath senior was a big, authoritative man, big in his chest, shoulders, and belly, with a large florid face and even larger features: his hair was powdered, and he wore a black velvet coat with blue collar and cuffs, a combination of colours that brought Diana Villiers even nearer to the forefront of Stephen's mind. In a little less than twentyseven hours, he reflected, glancing at a handsome English clock, she would be in Boston. Mr Herapath's manner was firm and assured; he was obviously accustomed to command, and both his son and the elderly lady who kept house for him sank into mute insignificance; but to

Stephen he was markedly amiable, welcoming, and even deferential.

He apologized for not having come to the Asciepia to pay his respects to Dr Maturin and to thank him for his great goodness to Michael; he had been kept withindoors by a wretched colic, but it was gone now, and he was very happy to have this opportunity of making his acknowledgments - he could never sufficiently congratulate himself upon Michael's having been honoured with the acquaintance and of having come under the influence of such a distinguished man. Dr Rawley had spoken to him of Dr Maturin's valuable publications on the health of seamen, and he understood that Dr Maturin was a Fellow of the Royal Society; he was only a merchant himself, but he honoured learning - useful learning.

Dinner was a long, slow, massive affair, and the conversation was almost entirely carried on by Mr Herapath and Stephen; Michael Herapath said very little, and Aunt James confined herself to asking Stephen whether he believed in the Trinity.

'Certainly, ma'am,' he replied

'Well, I am glad someone does,' said she 'Nearly all those scoundrels at Harvard are Unitarians, and their wives are worse

After that, she produced no more than hissing noises at the servants but although she was no great conversationalist she was clearly a notable housekeeper. The fog outside made the whole day dim, yet the big, comfortable dining-room was alive with the subdued gleam of polished wood; the noble fire, flanked by brass that would have done credit to the Royal Navy, lit up a great expanse of Turkey carpet, red and blue; they ate their good sober dinner off uncommonly massive plate; and when she left them Stephen observed that she passed into an equally agreeable drawing-room. It was not an elegant house, although there were some fine things in it, but it was discreetly rich and above all comfortable; he might have been dining with a long-established merchant in the City of London. This impression was much strengthened, startlingly strengthened indeed, when Mr Herapath filled his glass, passed the decanter, rose to his feet, and proposed the health of the King. Michael Herapath drank the toast with an abstracted look, and Stephen perceived that he was gliding a silver table-spoon into his pocket, the pocket away from his father's chair.

Mr Herapath then proposed 'a decent end to Mr Madison's war, and may it come very soon,' and Stephen followed him with 'trade's increase', which Mr Herapath drank in a bumper, thumping his glass three times on the table to show the heartiest agreement.

In the drawing-room Stephen eyed the silver urn with some apprehension, but it appeared that in Boston they knew how to make tea, and he drank it gratefully, for his head was not unaffected by the amount of claret and port he had drunk. Only two cups, however, for Mr Herapath was restive: he asked Aunt James whether it were not time for her nap, and upon this the poor lady walked straight out of the room without a word, leaving a half-mumbled piece of muffin. Then he told Michael that it was high time he returned to Caroline, since that Maryland Sally could not be trusted to feed her regularly, nor could anyone else; that he would see Dr Maturin back to the Asclepia himself; and that Michael had better look sharp - the fog was getting thicker still.

'There, Dr Maturin,' he said at last, leading his guest into a small room, presumably his study, for there were half a dozen books in it, as well as ledgers, 'let me draw your chair to the fire. I cannot tell you how pleased I am to see you here.' After a pause during which he looked at Stephen with a bright and eager eye, he stated that in the War of Independence he had been a Loyalist, and that although to protect his interests he had returned from Canada, compounding with the Republic, his heart remained where it had always been. 'My conduct may not have been very heroic, sir; but then I am only a merchant, not a hero. Heroism can, I believe, be very safely left to you gentlemen who serve the Crown.' Still, he and his friends had done all they could to prevent Mr Madison's war - here followed some pretty bitter remarks about Mr Madison, Mr Jefferson, and the Republicans - and now they were doing all they could to hamper its progress and to bring it to an early close. He would have invited some of his friends, Tories and Federalists, to meet Dr Maturin today, but that he wanted to express his gratitude first, and Dr Maturin might have found that embarrassing in the presence of company.

'And because you wanted to weigh me up, old fellow,' thought Stephen. He wondered at Herapath's simplicity in expecting to be accepted at his own self-declared value, yet he also found it quite agreeable, since he had independent evidence of its truth; and he waited, nodding, agreeing, for the proposition that he sensed at no great distance.

'I am always glad to see a British officer,' said Mr Herapath, 'and I and my friends have had the honour of entertaining several; but none has been of your weight and seniority, my dear sir. And none has had such claims on my esteem and gratitude. When my son returned, sir, he talked perpetually of you, of how you had raised him from the lowest rank to the quarterdeck, and of your kindness to him on all occasions. He was particularly unhappy that he should have left you without a word and that he should have run away when he was in your debt. Would to God he had stayed... however, you must allow me to settle his debt at once. May I ask... ?'

'He owed me seven pounds,' said Stephen.

Mr Herapath heaved sideways to reach his pocket, laid down the sum, and said, 'Let me add, sir, that my purse is always open to you. Within reason,' he added automatically, and went on. 'At least he was my son in hating debt: but in everything else, good Lord above.. He spent years studying the Chinese language, sir; but will you believe me when I say it was the Chinese of a thousand years ago, of no use to man or beast? He cannot even make out a bill of lading. And there were some other most unfortunate events... Then to crown all he comes home from his travels not only naked but with a drabbletail wench from Maryland into the bargain, and a bastard child. I ask you, sir, what can I make of a son like that?'

'You can make him a physician, sir. He has considerable natural gifts in the physical line, and a keen intelligence. I was much impressed by his cool capability when he served as my assistant in the Leopard, often in very trying circumstances; and I do most earnestly beg you will consider the suggestion.'

'Is he really capable of becoming a physician?' asked Mr Herapath, looking pleased. 'He often spoke of it when he first came home.'

'Certainly he is,' said Stephen. 'His Chinese may be a thousand years old, but you are to consider, that Greek and Latin are older still. They are required in a physician, because the wisdom of ages has found that they give a nimbleness of mind. They supple the mind, sir; they render it pliant and receptive. He has Latin and Greek, and he has Chinese too: there is suppleness, there is pliability and receptiveness, I believe.'