Under the Jolly Roger: Being an Account of the Further Nautical Adventures of Jacky Faber (52 page)

We sheepishly bring our hands back onto the tabletop.

Higgins brings in the mighty roast beef to great acclaim and we fall to and all are stuffing themselves to the point of stupefaction when there is a knock on the door and Mr. Beasley comes in and bows to the Captain.

"Your pardon, Sir, but a signal from the Flag. Lord Nelson has brought the combined French and Spanish fleets to bay off the Spanish coast. All British warships are to make speed for Cape Trafalgar to join the fight."

The dinner was over right quick after that. The Captain got up and roared out orders to bring the ship about and head her south and I was sent back into my cage, protesting all the way.
Please, Captain, don't put me down there for the fight! I don't wanna drown like a rat in a trap! Let me help!
All to no avail. Back down in the cell I went.

The ship is in high uproar, clearing decks for action, bending on all possible sail to get to Trafalgar as quickly as possible—
Not a moment to lose!
is the cry. Men are sanding cannonballs to make them rounder, the Marines are putting extra rifles and powder horns into the maintop and foretop, where they will stand during the battle, shooting down onto the decks of the enemy. Men are making wills and signing them and making their peace with whatever God they worship.

Me, I'm down in my cage, twisting a fork. My Marines are distracted with the excitement of the coming fight, but they still keep an eye on me and I can't talk any sense into 'em.
Please, Jeffrey, if it comes to a fight, say you'll let me out, say
you will!
This gets me
I'm sorry, Miss, but you'll be safer down here.
Right, and if the ship goes down, I go down, too.
Please, please, I'd rather die out in the open air!

I find out from Jaimy during the few times I get to talk to him that it's gonna take us a good three or four days to get there, sailing in convoy with the rest of our squadron, Trafalgar being down by the Strait of Gibraltar, but we're making good time, about eight knots average, so maybe we'll be there in time for the fight.
Great.

We're out in the open ocean now, in the Bay of Biscay, so any notion of me jumping overboard and swimming for freedom is out. I decide to shut up, escape notice, and work on making a key.

I work the same scam. I tell the Marine I've got to use the pot and when he goes out, I try my fork. I had studied the key hanging there and twisted down the tine of the fork in imitation of the tab at the end of the key.

"Corporal, if you would. Nature calls," I say, and he goes outside. It ain't hard for him to do that, what with all the excitement out there, I know he doesn't want to come back in.

I put the fork in and try it. Nothing. I rattle it some more. Sideways, this time. No. Somehow I've got to make the other tab.

"Corporal Martin. I'm done."

It's been two days of this and I'm getting scared. I still don't have it and I ain't got a lot of time. Jaimy comes down to see me more now, since we're in a certain routine in our dash for Trafalgar, and I can't do anything when he's visiting, so it's getting tight.

I know I can't ask Jaimy to do anything in the way of the key, 'cause of his word of honor and all, and 'cause he'd probably agree that I'd be safer down here during a battle. I don't agree, and I ain't forgot about that noose that's probably waiting for me in London should I survive this.

I've found a place, a joint between a bar and a cross brace, where I can put a tine of the fork and have a good deal of control over how it bends. I have bent one of the three tines back out of the way so it doesn't get in the way of the others, and I've taken the second one and forced it out sideways to look like the second tab on the key.

"Oh, Private Rodgers..."

I jam it in as soon as he leaves and wiggle it around. Nothing. I lift up the handle of the fork and try again.
Third time's the charm,
I pray and twist it in the lock.

Clack!

I suck in my breath. The lock is open! The door swings open an inch. Great! Now to get it closed before Jeffrey comes back.

I twist the fork the other way.
Click!
It locks again.

I put my key fork away and call Jeffrey back in again.

I resolve to practice the drill till I can do it under tension and so under fire, as well.

Try to hold Jacky Faber, will you?

October 21,1805
5:50
A.M.
Signal from HMS
Achilles
to Lord Nelson
on board HMS
Victory:
"Have Discovered a Strange Fleet
"

The signal is passed down to me by Private Rodgers. I know from a very excited Jaimy that we have formed up with the main body of Nelson's fleet.
You should see it, Jacky! There're over thirty-two of our Ships of the Line out there! And that's just the First-Raters, not counting frigates or little brigs like us!
He darts back up to the deck.

So I guess some lookout has spotted the enemy fleet. I guess right.

6:10
A.M.
Signal from Nelson on board
HMS
Victory
to Fleet:
"
Form Order of Sailing in Two Columns
"

Again Rodgers repeats the signal. I make myself be calm. I make no more demands to be let out. I pretend to be a good girl sitting here with my hands folded in my lap, letting the big, bold men take care of me.

6:22
A.M.
Signal from Nelson to Fleet:
"
Prepare for Battle
"

Then more orders from Lord Nelson:
Bear up and sail large on Course E
and many orders to Admiral Collingwood who, Jaimy tells me, is the commander of the Lee Column of our ships, while Nelson commands the Weather Column, which is what we are in.
Lee
and
Weather
have to do with the direction of the wind, which is off our port quarter and almost dead astern. That would be good, except that the winds are very, very light. It looks like Nelson intends to drive two columns of our ships straight into the flank of the enemy lying off the coast, and, since the winds are so light, we will be punished going in. I shiver a bit. It's going to be bloody.

We wait. More signals back and forth between Nelson and his commanders and his big ships as we draw closer to the enemy fleet. More signals. We wait and get closer.

At 10:45 I'm pleased to see Higgins enter the hold with a tray of food and drink. He snaps open a portable tray holder and places it outside the bars. He also has a small chair hooked over his arm.

"This might be more to your liking, Miss, than what has been served to you in the past week or so," he says.

I smile and say, "Thank you, Higgins. It is so good to see you."

I pick up a hot biscuit, butter it, and bite down. It is wondrous good. The thought that one might die very shortly makes the senses very acute. "You will not get in trouble for this?"

"No, Miss, I will not get in trouble. I have found the Captain to be a fair man, and he is very, very busy today."

There is plenty of food and two glasses and I invite him to have some of it with me, as that would give me great comfort and pleasure.

"No, Miss, I thought maybe your young man might share this with you on this auspicious day. I mentioned it to him on my way down."

Ah. Good, good Higgins, what a jewel you are.
I make a quick decision and I stand and pull up my skirt and stick my finger in one of the pouches of my money belt and pull out my emerald. I let the skirt fall back down and hand the stone to Higgins.

"Take this," I say. "Of all of us, you're the one most likely to get back to London, alive and free. Sell it and take enough for you to maintain yourself till you find a new post. Then give the rest to the Home, so it can run a while longer. All I have left in the bank shall go there, too. Tell Grandfather and Mairead what has happened, but not to worry about me."

He takes the jewel and slips it in the pocket of his jacket in such a way that Private Rodgers doesn't see. "I will do that, Miss."

"Don't you worry about me, either, Higgins. I have a way of popping back up, so don't count me out yet."

He smiles and says, "I would not be so foolish as to do that, Miss. Ah, here is Mr. Fletcher now. Good-bye, Miss. May I tell you that it has been the joy of my life to serve you?"

I stand up and face him, the tears beginning to flow. "Good-bye, Higgins," I sob and reach through the bars to grasp the lapels of his jacket so as to pull him to me and kiss him on his broad forehead. "You are the finest gentleman and the absolute best of men."

Higgins blinks and nods and places the chair so Jaimy can sit next to the bars, close to me. He bows to me one last time and then turns and leaves. I watch his straight, white-coated back disappear through the hatchway.
Good-bye, Higgins.

"This was very considerate of your man," says Jaimy.

"Yes. I will miss him very, very much," I say, sniffling and wiping my eyes. "But here, have something to eat. You will need your strength. A glass of wine with you?" I pour it and we lift our glasses and drink to each other.

It is a most pleasant meal. We might almost be sitting on a grassy hillside at Dovecote, having a nice picnic, instead of where we are, here at the edge of a battle.

"Another signal, Lieutenant." Both of our heads turn around and I have to smile and shake my head.

"You shouldn't smile at that, Jacky," says Jaimy, kindly. "After all, you made lieutenant before I did."

11:48
A.M.
Signal from Nelson to the Fleet:
"
England Expects Every Man Will Do His Duty
"

We both stand up.

In a moment there's another signal from Nelson to the Fleet:
Make all sail possible with safety to the masts.
That means we're going in.

"Good-bye, Jacky. I'll see you again in this life or the next."

"Jaimy, I..." But I can say no more. I look at his face and the tears pour from my eyes as I press against the bars and we come together for maybe the last time and
Oh, Jaimy...
and then he's gone.

At the ringing of the noon bell, a faraway boom is heard. The firing has started. Private Rodgers pokes his head out for a moment. "Lord, Miss, there must be fifty or sixty enemy ships out there, lined up against us," he says when he comes back. Right after that, he is called away to take his battle station as a sharpshooter.

"I'm leaving the key hanging here, just in case ... so that you could be let out if the ship is sinking," he says. "It ... it has been an honor ... guarding you, Miss."

"Thank you, Jeffrey. I have enjoyed your company. May God be with you."

"And you, Miss."

I watch his red-coated back with its two crossed white belts disappear up the gangway. Then I wait.

I cannot break out too soon, or I will be caught and put back in here. No, it has to be in the real heat of battle. There are more distant booms but nothing from our ship yet.

One Bell. It's 12:30. Many more shots. I know from the feel of the ship that we are sailing in very light winds, so we must coast into the enemy's range taking their full broadside fire while we can only fire our bow guns, so it's going to be very hot work and ...
there!
I feel the
Wolverine
shake. We have fired!

Not yet, though. Sit, girl. Don't even open the cage yet—someone might still come down.
We fire again, then again. Then I feel us turn and I feel the port guns fire and from outside I hear the cry
Were-wolves! Were-wolves! Were-wolves!

Then there's a terrible crash as we take a hit up forward.

Now!

I leap up and take the fork and jam it in the lock and twist.
Damn! Calm down, easy now. There!
The door swings open and I run for my seabag, but before I get there, I'm knocked off my feet by another blast. I hear screaming now and the crash of our full starboard broadside. We're firing on both sides—the enemy must be all around us.

I reach my bag and pull out my uniform. I whip off my dress and wriggle into my shirt and pants—I had not put on anything under my dress this morning 'cause I figured it would come to this. On boots, on jacket, on sword. I stick my shiv in my jacket. I gotta get this all on right or the plan won't work. Put on hat, close up bag, pick it up, and head up the hatchway and into the battle, my hat crammed down low over my face.

I blink in the sudden bright sunlight and for a moment I stand astounded. There is wreckage everywhere. There are men down, there is blood on the deck, there is constant pandemonium of shouted orders, blasts of cannon, and screams of agony.

I look out over the sea. There are dozens and dozens of ship-to-ship fights going on. There is smoke everywhere—a cloud of it hits me in the face and makes me choke, but it blackens my face, too, which is good, so maybe I won't be recognized. But I don't think anyone cares right now 'cause when the smoke clears, there's a great shout as we see the huge bulk of Nelson's Flagship, the hundred-gun
Victory,
heave up on our right side, all three decks of cannon pointed over us at the
Redoubtable,
a French ship of the same monstrous size, that is bearing down on our port side. We're going to be pinned and crushed between them, with eighty thirty-two-pound cannons pointed over us.

The mighty ships come together against us and the
Wolverine
groans as her timbers are bent and broken. There is a tremendous roar as the two big ships fire their broadsides point-blank into each other, with us poor souls in the middle.

The first salvo takes down all of our masts and spars. There are more terrible cries of pain as men are pinned by the falling rigging. I look up, almost as if in a dream, to see the mainsail come floating almost softly down on me.

It doesn't feel soft when it actually hits me and forces me to the deck, though.
Don't panic!
I tell myself, even though I'm smellin' smoke and the sail presses down hard and I can't get up. I pull out my shiv and poke it through the rough, thick canvas and rip myself a hole big enough to wriggle through. I pull my seabag out after me.