The Torrid Zone (The Fighting Sail Series) (37 page)

They finally rounded Ladder Hill Point and entered Chapel Valley Bay in the late morning of the third day, when the bad weather was nothing more than a memory and an innocent sun beat down on land that might never before have seen rain. Since dawn, when they first closed with the northern coast of the island, the small convoy had been assailed by distant shouts and cheers from random groups ashore. Some even did their best to follow the battered vessels as they came in, with
Scylla,
under jury rudder, holding a broad reach comfortably enough, even if her progress was slow.

On passing the battery near Lemon Valley Bay the British were mildly disconcerted by cannon fire, although this was finally accepted as celebratory. Then, when the Frenchman's anchor was released, and what had been an enemy was formally presented with British colours proudly dominating her national ensign, the crowded wharf showed the island's true feelings without ambiguity. Muskets were fired, apparently indiscriminately, and several signal rockets released from the vantage point on Ladder Hill, while lines of Company employees and off duty soldiers erupted into good-natured shouts and cheering. Only the two heavy batteries that looked out on the bay remained silent and apparently deserted, but no one aboard
Scylla
or her vanquished foe could have cared less. None had slept since fighting what had been a desperate and close won battle, and relief at finally knowing their ordeal over was sufficient.

The packet, with an anxious Lewis in command, anchored next. His vessel was also laden with prisoners; apart from the French prize crew there were those from the burning corvette that had been plucked from the water: the vessel itself was lucky to have survived the subsequent explosion with only minor damage to her rig and sails.

Two boats were already on their way to
Scylla
as her first anchor finally ran free and the ship began to swing in the faint current. On the quarterdeck Banks stood in clothes not changed since the fight and knew he was not in a fit condition, either mentally or cosmetically, to greet visitors. It would probably be Robson, and already he could guess at the many questions the lieutenant governor would ask. However the man may also be bringing news of Sarah, and his need for that was far greater than any reluctance to relate the recent action.

But in fact it was Henry Booker who first clambered through
Scylla
's battered entry port and, even more unexpectedly, he was followed by his daughter, as well as a heavily built black man who seemed at once nervous and oddly proud.

“You have fared well I see, Sir Richard,” Booker said beaming, and shaking the captain's hand. “Not just the Frenchie, but taken back the packet into the bargain. What of the other ship, is she still free?”

“No, sir, the corvette has been accounted for, she will not trouble us further.”

“And Lady Hatcher?” he asked, the smile now fixed and his eyes wide in anticipation.

“Milady is below and unhurt,” Banks told him flatly. “Though I regret, not in the best of tempers.”

Indeed the woman had been incandescent with rage, especially after being unceremoniously bundled out of the captured Frenchman and back into
Scylla
, where circumstances demanded that she must be effectively left to her own devices for the rest of that night. But Banks found he cared little for the lady now, or her opinion. She might huff and puff all she wished, his defeat of three enemy warships could only be seen as a substantial victory, and certainly sufficient to colour any mischief she might attempt to make regarding his earlier actions. Besides, had he not won back her freedom? How would she look when dubious accusations were cast? Both parliament and the public were equally predictable, and accustomed to inflating victory as readily as condemning failure. Banks was no expert in such matters but guessed he would be regarded as a hero, and any attempt to besmirch his name would have to be extremely well- founded in order to sway general opinion. The Admiralty also lauded success; he might not be given a replacement ship immediately, but one would come soon enough, and this time there would be no doubt he had earned it himself, and not been forced to rely on his father's interest. His actions in preventing future attacks on the merchant convoys must also put him in good stead with the HEIC, as well as the City insurers who would have been saved a fortune. And the government should now be at the later stage of peace negotiations; even a minor British triumph must strengthen their hand and be welcomed.

But Banks was finding that, like so many crises that dwindle to nothing as soon as they are solved, all this seemed to be of surprisingly little moment. Once more his ship required extensive repairs and they may even have to await the first India convoy to raise enough fit men to see
Scylla
, and the captured Frenchman, safely home. But before then he had a greater concern, and one he simply must address, even though it hardly rated highly in military significance.

“My wife, is she well?” he asked, and was relieved when Booker's delighted expression did not falter.

“Lady Banks is indeed extremely bonny, and has been asking about you daily. As soon as you can leave your ship a fast carriage can have you with her inside the hour. I shall see to it that one is laid on for such an eventuality.”

“Thank you,” Banks said, as the exhaustion finally seemed likely to take him over. “Thank you indeed.”

* * *

“G
entlemen, I trust I am not disturbing you,” Julia said cautiously as she approached King and Caulfield, who stood nearby. “I have someone I would wish you to meet.”

Both officers followed her glance, and the black man, dressed simply but well and carrying a small canvas bag, lowered his head slightly at their attention.

“David here was a member of my father's household, as I think you are both aware,” she said, not looking directly at either of them. “I can say without hesitation that he probably saved my life, as well as those of Lady Banks and Mrs Manning.”

“Indeed, sir. I hears you fought extremely bravely,” Caulfield said, extending his hand. “And have our thanks, although I believe a more significant reward is in preparation.”

“That is kind of you,” the man spoke softly. “Though in truth I was hoping you would give me leave to serve in your ship.”

“My father has granted David his freedom,” Julia interrupted, her face flushing only slightly. “It seems I was in error and he does crave for something more than we can provide on the island.”

“Do you have any skills as a seaman?” King asked.

“Precious few at present, sir, though I am eager to learn,” the man replied. “I am trained as a valet, and can cook and serve at table, as well as having a fair hand at needlework.”

King glanced across at Caulfield and received a subtle nod and a smile. “Thompson, the captain's man, is killed, but even if Sir Richard does not require another servant, I am certain there will be a place for any with such skills,” he said.

“I own that this goes rather against what I spoke of a week or so back.” Julia was now more directly regarding the first lieutenant.

“Not as such,” Caulfield answered, his gaze not meeting hers. “Some would say your man is simply exchanging one form of bondage for another. But I do consider it good that he has been given the choice,” he continued, before their eyes did finally meet. “And right; I think that also.”

“Miss Booker, I wonder if I might have your attention?” King was conscious that his question had broken something of a spell between the two and, when she turned to him with an expression of caution and reluctance, he felt his heart drop down to his boots. “I-it is of a private nature,” he continued, stammering slightly. “Would you be so kind as to accompany me below?”

* * *

“T
here is someone to see you, Mr Fraiser,” Kate whispered softly into the old man’s ear, and his eyes opened. A young girl stood before him, but he could say no more; she seemed in no way familiar, although the light in the sickbay was bad and he remained heavily sedated following the operation. “This is Julia Booker,” the surgeon's wife continued. “She is the daughter of one of St Helena's officials, and Mr King here was especially keen that you should speak with her.”

The sailing master's eyes flashed up as the young lieutenant entered and stood behind, then back to the woman herself. Julia Booker: the name meant nothing to him and, now that he was fully awake, his leg had begun to hurt once more.

“I believe you knew my mother,” the girl said, drawing closer and lowering herself to his level. “Her name was Kitty Davies; she spoke of you often, and I did so want to meet you.”

The name sparked a reaction, as it would have whatever the depth of pain or drug that plagued him. Fraiser actually tried to raise himself from the fixed berth, but Mrs Manning pressed a hand against his breast and breathed calm, reassuring words that were totally ignored.

“Kitty, yes; I do remember,” he said urgently and staring at her more closely.

“I was so sorry to hear that you are wounded,” the girl continued. “And hope you to be well by and by. Perhaps you may benefit from being on shore for a spell?”

Fraiser blinked, uncomprehending, then looked to Mrs Manning who was still resolutely by his side as she seemed to have been since her husband operated.

“Lady Banks is currently at Julia's house where she is being cared for,” Kate explained. “You would be able to go there and be well looked after, although there is also a military hospital should you prefer.”

“What of the ship?” Fraiser asked, and received a smile and a shake of the head in reply.

“The ship won't be going anywhere for a good while, master,” King explained softly. “And even when she does, you need not be with her.”

This time he understood completely. He knew what had been done to his leg. Even though the sensation of movement and feeling remained strong in his foot and toes, no one would need a crippled sailing master and, at his age, it might be better to bow out with dignity. Retirement was something he had considered taking for some while, although the lack of a suitable place in which to settle had always prevented it. Throughout his long life a steadily increasing faith had given him as strong a grounding as he could have wished for, but a physical home was another matter entirely, and something he had always lacked. Now, and in the company of the young woman whose features were starting to become more distinct by the second, he sensed he might finally have found one.

T
his book is set in the time between two actual governors of St Helena: Robert Brooke, (retired March 1800), and Robert Patton who arrived two years later. During the interregnum, Colonel Francis Robson FSA, an eminently capable man who had served with distinction in Madras, did indeed act as governor, although Sir Terrance Hatcher, and his charming lady, are figments of my imagination. My only excuse in introducing this fiction is that when such an important outpost as St Helena is left effectively unattended for so long, the opportunity is just too good to pass by.

The previous governor, Robert Brooke (1744-1811), would have been a hard act for Hatcher to follow, and was actually a fascinating man who properly deserves an entire book of his own. He was born in Ireland and first joined the HEIC as an aspirant officer in his early twenties. Following a period of illness, Brooke moved back to his homeland where he established Prosperous, an industrial town in County Kildare, to serve the cotton industry. It was an ambitious project and received generous government support but proved far too expensive and soon consumed all of his personal fortune. At its height Brooke effectively employed over three thousand people, although the venture ultimately failed. His property was sold, and Brooke was left not only bankrupt but rumoured to be owing an amount close to that of Britain's national debt.

Undeterred, he reapplied for service with the East India Company and, after initial rejection, (he had previously outstayed his leave) was finally accepted. Then, almost immediately afterwards, he found himself somewhat bizarrely appointed governor of St Helena, replacing Daniel Cornelille, and in control of one of the most important bases in Britain's burgeoning empire.

Despite his somewhat disastrous record in business, Brooke was to become one of the most successful governors of the island. St Helena's defences were improved to no small degree while under his control; he also instituted a better method of signalling, and extended the harbour installations that were judged to be both inadequate and dangerous, saving several lives each year. The disaster at Prosperous clearly had not dulled his enthusiasm for enterprise any; his plan for irrigating the island involved many miles of pipes, gullies and open streams, and was heavily opposed, but Brooke had the determination to see it through and, on completion, fresh water was distributed to some parts of the island for the first time. Suddenly visiting fleets could be served in a reasonable time, while the Company's considerable herds of cattle were not only able to survive the occasional drought, but also increased by 20%.

During his tenure Brooke also did much to improve the lot of the common soldier. The 'miscreant's mess' was a particular case in point; until that time military discipline rested almost entirely on corporal punishment and did little to actually modify bad behaviour. Brooke decided that regular floggings promoted an ethos of bravado amongst the men, some came to regard such punishment as a sign of masculinity while others, he suspected, actively enjoyed it. Instead he ordered offenders to be removed from the rank and file and grouped together, where they were provided with poor accommodation and victuals, while being employed in a variety of laborious and mundane tasks. This evoked an element of social disgrace that made the punishment truly corrective, and also provided St Helena with the many gardens and military installations that can still be seen today.

In 1795, and based on news received from a visiting warship, Brooke initiated an expedition using HEIC ships and corps to reinforce General Craig's recently captured Dutch colony at the Cape of Good Hope. Brooke's force also assisted in the taking of a fleet of valuable Dutch Indiamen, an act that won him praise, promotion and a considerable increase in salary.