The Seahorse (4 page)

Chapter Five

The Admiralty's messenger opened the door of one of the larger private anterooms and said in a dry but polite manner, “If you would be so kind as to wait, Lord Anthony?”

Instead of sitting Anthony looked out the window. Leaves were starting to turn in the few trees visible. It'd not be long before the first frost. Now that Deborah had decided to travel to the West Indies he wouldn't miss England as much. He certainly wouldn't miss the cold. Glancing toward the sky, Anthony could see the clouds were clearing. It had rained early that morning but with the sun coming out it promised to be a warm day.

People were now filling the street and Anthony had to smile as a lady stepped around a puddle, but the two small children with her jumped into the middle and kicked water at each other. Intent upon watching the mother trying to coax the children from the puddle it took Anthony a second to realize the door had opened and he was being spoken to.

“The First Lord will see you now, My Lord.” This was a different messenger. Old, gray haired, and stooped over, he had thick-rimmed glasses and a poorly fitting white powdered wig.

Following behind the ancient messenger to the First Lord's office, Anthony thought,
The
war will be over before my orders can be signed
. He was finally ushered into Lord Sandwich's office where he found him pouring sherry into two glasses.

Seeing Anthony, the First Lord smiled, “Ah, Gil, won't you join us in a glass?”

The
us
meant Lord Sandwich and Lord Joseph Ragland. They had been friends since they were schoolboys together. The two had been known in their youth for not excelling in the sciences but in drink, swordplay, and general debauchery. It was said that they compiled a list of wenches they'd bedded during the week. They then presented the top ten to fellow classmates at Friday noon so that those who were boarded at the school could plan out their weekends.

The school was tucked between St. Peter's Abbey and London's best confectioners at Westminster. It was a place known for higher study, religion, and the development of future leaders.

However, the two had found it very easy to hop a fence or two, cross the grass at Green Park, cross Piccadilly and go on to Down Street. There they found cockfights and hedge taverns with brothels on the top floor. These were much more interesting to the comrades than the studies and religion at school.

The two had remained friends in adult life. Anthony had first met Lord Ragland at the infamous Hellfire Club where he had been taken as a guest. Lord Ragland had been reciting a bawdy poem that Anthony remembered to that day:

W
hen I first run my tongue down your smooth thigh

Just like a priest I kneel and bend to pray

And gaze with his same fervor for on high

My alter calls and sweet scents guide my way
.

Anthony's father had frowned upon hearing his son had visited the club. “It's a place I'd not care to have my name associated with,” he said. “It's the devil's own den I'm told. A place to sow a wild seed then be away from, else you'll wind up reaping more than you sowed.”

Anthony had taken his father's advice. He'd read an article that Lord Ragland had had to fight half a dozen duels for his indiscretions. He then dropped out of sight for a while, returning to his family home nestled amidst the beauty and tranquility of the Welsh borderland. Oddly enough he delved into politics and for years served as a conservative member of the Welsh Parliament. He had established ties with the Duke of Wellington and now traveled in very elite circles. In short, Lord Ragland appeared to have put his hellish days behind him.

Taking the offered glass, Anthony bowed slightly at the waist and said, “My Lord.”

Lord Sandwich ignored the bow and held out his hand. “It's good to see you again,” he said, vigorously shaking Anthony's hand.

“You have been a star in my crown, sir. You are also the one officer who has not failed or disappointed me. Although I should be jealous, you've made the
Gazette
so many times I'm envious.”

“I've had good supporting officers, My Lord. Most of the credit for my success must be directed toward them.”

“Do you hear that, Joseph?” Sandwich asked, speaking to Lord Ragland. “The man refuses to blow his own horn.”

“He'd never be a politician,” Ragland replied as he took the opportunity to shake Anthony's hand.

“I hope your wife and child are doing well,” Sandwich spoke again.

“They're fine, My Lord.”

“Good…good. Has Gabe ere…ah…recovered from his honeymoon?”

This brought a chuckle from Anthony, thinking how tired his brother appeared when he'd first arrived at Deerfield. “Sufficient enough to declare himself available to the port admiral.”

“Good. He's taking a good but unhappy ship. I'm sure however that he will be able to make her into a proud ship again.”

“I have every confidence, My Lord,” Anthony responded.

“As have I. I have a dozen senior captains who daily beg for a ship but none more deserving than Gabe.”

“Thank you for that,” Anthony said.

“Now let's get down to business. You will be given command of the Windward Islands. Your senior will be Admiral Hotham, who has command of the West Indies. You will also report to Lord Ragland. He will be on hand much more than Hotham as he has been appointed as the new Governor of Barbados.”

“My congratulations,” Anthony said, lifting his unfinished glass in salute to Lord Ragland.

Sandwich continued, “You will be given a squadron comprised of
HMS SeaHorse
…a seventy-four,
Intrepid
…a fairly new sixty-four, two thirty-six-gun frigates…one is the
Peregrine
, which Gabe will command, and a couple of sloops plus a gun ketch to act as a tender. Gabe's old first lieutenant was given command of the ketch…
Ferret
of sixteen guns.”

“Now let's talk about your mission. Your orders will be vague out of necessity. We have been given reliable information that the French will sign a treaty with the Colonies soon after the New Year. They are already building up forces to move on New York. We are also told they intend to establish bases in the West Indies and we can expect an attempt to invade several of our holdings there. As we have nothing more you will understand why your orders will be vague and open to interpretation.”

“We have recently received word from Barbados of a daring attack on a convoy right under the noses of our fleet. Most of the ships carrying war supplies were either taken or destroyed without so much as a shot being fired on our behalf. We can't allow this to happen again. We already are hearing grumblings about how the war is going. It's getting more unpopular everyday.”

“I have assured Lord Ragland that I put every faith and confidence in your abilities and judgment. We have to have something positive to give the public or this administration is doomed.”

The stooped old messenger knocked on the door, halting the conversation. “It's time for your appointment with Lord North, sir,” he informed Sandwich.

“Very well, I will be ready to depart directly.” Turning back to Ragland and Anthony, Sandwich sighed, “Duty calls so I must bid you adieu. Fair winds, my friends.”

Chapter Six

Gabe left his meeting with the Port Admiral with a degree of excitement only to feel guilty over taking a ship so soon after he had wed. The task of taking command would cost him not only in money but time. It was the time he dreaded the most. At least he could return home to Faith in the evenings.

The Port Admiral had said the
Peregrine
was anchored off the spit just outside the harbour, further proof she was not one of Graham's favourite ships. Graham's statement about her being an unhappy ship was a discouraging hint as to the poor state of the ship's discipline and state of readiness.

The orders had been delivered to his home the same evening he had talked to Graham. Faith had stayed behind at Deerfield to help Deborah get ready for the trip to Barbados. Lum had stayed as well. But his cox'n, Paco, the midshipman Ally—as Alejandro was now being called—and Hawks had made the trip. Gabe and the three men were now in a hired cutter that was taking them from the harbour steps out to the
Peregrine
. The wind was up and the harbour had a fair chop to its waters.

The old boatman had made it plain from his look that he was aware of the
Peregrine's
reputation when he was given the ship's name he was to ferry the group to. It never ceased to amaze Gabe how quickly gossip about a ship spread. Spray from the chop dashed aboard the cutter as it plowed through the waves. Paco had wrapped Gabe's sea chest in a tarpaulin to keep off the spray.

The boatman eased the tiller over a bit to avoid a larger wave. “That be her,” the boatman said, pointing to a ship.

Gabe was not happy at his first sighting of the
Peregrine
. The sails hung loosely on her yards. Stains ran down the hull where debris had been cast over the side without being washed. Ship's boats were bobbing up and down with a single rope tying them to the gangway. This made entry a dangerous proposition.

However, once he looked past the unkempt appearance, Gabe could see the makings of a fine ship.
The neglect would end today
, Gabe vowed. As the cutter came alongside Gabe was shocked at the lack of a challenge.

Paco, seeing the look of disdain on his captain's face, said, “Allow me Cap'n.” He then scooted past Gabe and made his way up the gangway steps. Protocol dictated that the captain was always first out of the boat but nothing about this met Navy tradition.

Taking the opportunity Gabe gave the old boatman a handful of coins and said, “We're expecting an entire change in crew for the most part.” This tip would ensure a brisk business for the boatman and his son.

“Thank ye, Cap'n. Thank ye kindly.”

Gabe made his way forward but stopped suddenly. A wave had caused
Peregrine
to rise and tug at her cable. As she did so, Gabe saw that she had been coppered.
No
shipworm would eat away this hull
, he thought as he moved toward the bow of the cutter.

Pausing, Gabe jammed his hat tightly on his head, and positioned his sword. Then with the next swell he grabbed a manrope in each hand…grimy, greasy manropes. He began to climb up the wooden battens to the entry port.

He could hear shouts and curses from above as Paco was giving the watch hell. It was nothing like the reception he'd gotten when he, along with Dagan, first went aboard
Merlin
.
I wish you were here Dagan
, Gabe thought.
I need you
.

Gabe was through the entry port and standing on deck before a lieutenant came running forward with a confused look, shouting out an order as he rushed to meet Gabe. Seamen rushed to form sideboys. One tripped over the tail of a rope, cursing as he hit the deck with a thud. Oddly the falling seaman's cry brought forth a sudden silence on the deck.

Looking around Gabe saw no semblance of a Navy ship. Brass had not been shined and rusty cannonballs were stacked and not placed in a brass monkey. Sails were furled loosely. Gaskets were just hanging.

“I'm Lieutenant Seymour, sir. We were not expecting you.”

Gabe eyed the man coldly but didn't speak. Ally and Hawks were now aboard and stood on either side of their captain. Finally Gabe spoke.

“You're under arrest, Lieutenant, for drunkenness on duty.”

“But sir, I'm not on duty.”

Looking about Gabe asked, “Is there another officer aboard?”

“No sir.”

“Then the charge stands.”

Turning to Paco, Gabe ordered, “Have my chest brought aboard by the most sober seaman you can find.”

“Aye, Cap'n,” Paco replied, smiling at the cap'n's word. Well, maybe there was a sober man about but he wouldn't count on it.

Gabe made his way down the companionway toward the captain's cabin. He halted halfway down, suddenly sick to his stomach. The stench of unwashed bodies mixed with alcohol and the reek of full chamber pots filled the air. Holding his handkerchief to his nose Gabe made his way into the cabin.

Men and women's clothes were strewn everywhere, chairs were overturned. Wine bottles rolled across the deck…some empty, while others still contained fluid. Gabe would not have bet on the liquid inside the bottles being wine.

He reached the captain's desk and found it locked. The only damn thing that's as it should be. Overhead he could hear his chest being dragged across the deck. Not wanting his trunk soiled he rushed on deck.

“Don't carry it below,” he gasped, taking in a breath of fresh air.

Looking at the two mids he could see a greenish pallor. They had gone below but stood outside the cabin while he looked in.

“She's about ripe I'd say, Captain,” Hawks volunteered.

“Aye young sir, a bad beginning.”

Ally then spoke up in his broken English. “Don't worry, Captain, we'll have this place looking ship shape pronto.”

“I've no doubt, Ally.”

Gabe then spoke to Paco. “Have one of the scalawags stand guard over my chest until my cabin has been cleaned.”

Nodding, Paco said, “Si…aye, Cap'n.” Then he went to find a burly seaman.

“Mr Ally. Mr Hawks.”

“Aye, Captain,” the youths said in unison.

“It's my understanding that the warrants have all transferred off the ship. I am therefore promoting both of you to lieutenant. Temporarily, mind you, but it'll go in your records.”

This made the mids grin from ear to ear.

“Now, lieutenants, divide what crew we have into two groups. I want this ship scoured from top to bottom.”

“Aye, Cap'n,” they replied, then off they went, suddenly full of importance.

***

It was shortly before the forenoon watch that the old boatman started ferrying officers and crew out to the
Peregrine
. The first “boat ahoy” startled Gabe, as he was in deep thought about how well provisioned the ship might be and the state of inventory that was claimed on the books.

Making his way topside to see who was reporting on board, he was in time to see his new First Lieutenant Nathan Lavery coming through the entry port. Behind him were Lieutenant Davy, and two of
Merlin's
old warrants: the bosun, Mr Graf, and the gunner, Mr Druett.

“The cutter must have been crowded,” Gabe said as he greeted the men. “Let's go below and I will fill you in on what so far has been a big disappointment.”

After filling in his officers and warrants on the sorry state of affairs, Gabe went back to reviewing the ship's books. He now opened the “punishment” book and was horrified. Being assigned to
Peregrine
must have been hell on earth. Flogging was routinely awarded for every offense and punishment was rendered each day.

“Boat ahoy.” The challenge was heard through the open skylight.

More hands were reporting
, Gabe thought. However, Lavery would deal with it. The knock on the cabin door interrupted Gabe's review of the ship's records. Paco had been sitting just inside the cabin, acting as unofficial sentry as
Peregrine's
new detachment of marines had not yet arrived.

Gabe nodded to Paco, who opened the door. Seeing the visitor he called out, “First lieutenant, sir.” Then as an after thought he added, “With another officer.”

Gabe marked the page he was on by laying a quill between the pages then closed the book. Lavery stepped into the cabin, allowing the other officer to enter.

“Lieutenant Wiley, sir. Request permission to speak to the captain.”

“Very well, Lieutenant Lavery, you may go.”

As Lavery left, Gabe caught Paco's look…his unspoken question. “Do I stay or leave you in private?”

“You may round-up our young gentlemen, Paco, and tell them with my regrets their temporary promotions have unfortunately come to an end.”

Smiling, Paco left to do his bidding.

Gabe then looked at Wiley. Other than looking apprehensive, he was turned out professionally. “Are you George Wiley, Second Lieutenant of
Peregrine
?” Gabe asked.

“I am, sir.”

Gabe had noted from the records that Wiley had spoken up for several of the men who had been brought up for punishment.

“Why have you been absent from the ship?”

“I was on leave, sir.”

“There was no mention of it in the ship's log.” Gabe responded.

Wiley didn't look surprised but added, “I was on leave, sir. You can check with the port admiral. He will confirm it.”

This was a strange answer as officers didn't check in or out with the port admiral in regards to leave.

“Are you a friend or relative of Admiral Graham?”

“Yes…ere no, but soon sir.”

“Soon what?” Gabe asked.

“Admiral Graham is soon to marry my mother.”

“I see,” Gabe said. “What were your dealings with the admiral in regards to this ship?”

“I had asked for a transfer, sir,” Wiley replied, taking a deep breath.

“Do you still desire one?”

“No sir.”

“Why may I ask?”

“Admiral Graham said the ship had finally gotten a captain that knew how to run a ship and I'd be a blundering idiot not to return.”

Gabe couldn't help but chuckle. “Find yourself a clean glass, Mr Wiley, and we will make a toast to a new beginning.”

“A new beginning, sir, and here's to your health.”