A Battle Won Read online

  ‘What of this other doctor I heard mentioned?’ Worthing went on. ‘Is he a surgeon as well? I must say, I am surprised that a frigate should require two.’

  ‘Which doctor is this?’ Hayden asked.

  ‘Dr Jefferies, I believe the man’s name was.’

  Grins were suppressed all around the table and at least one smirk obscured behind a wine glass quickly raised.

  ‘Jefferies is the ship’s cook, Dr Worthing. It is a jest in the Navy to refer to the cook as “Doctor”.’

  ‘It is an odd conception of a jest.’ The man seemed a bit offended that anyone might find humour in this. ‘Address within the service does seem peculiar. Am I given to understand, Captain Hayden, that you are no captain at all but hold the rank of master and commander?’

  ‘That is exactly correct, sir,’ Hayden replied.

  ‘Even an admiral would address Captain Hayden as “Captain”, Dr Worthing,’ Wickham interjected. ‘He has command of a ship and is therefore “Captain”. You will soon find that Captain Hayden is very deserving of such address, for he is as fine a sea-officer as any man who has earned his post.’

  ‘Then I do not doubt it,’ Worthing responded.

  When Wickham spoke, Hayden noticed, the clergyman was all attention and amiability. After all, the progeny of a man who might have a living to bestow was worthy of cultivation.

  Thwarted from offering offence in this particular channel, the chaplain retreated into silence.

  ‘Mr Gould,’ Hawthorne offered into this moment, ‘you must be something of an authority on the matter of physicians. Am I informed correctly that you have two brothers in medicine?’

  ‘Yes, sir, Mr Hawthorne,’ Gould answered up eagerly, pleased to be noticed. ‘My eldest brother has opened a practice in London and the next eldest, Peter, is studying to do the same.’

  ‘And why is it you didn’t follow their example, Mr Gould?’ Barthe asked. ‘Lord knows it is a more sensible and gainful profession than the sea.’

  ‘I contemplated it most seriously for some time, Mr Barthe. I even read many of my brother’s texts, helping him with his studies. Medicine is an absorbing subject, I will grant you, but in the end being shut up in rooms all day in London…’ A visible shudder passed through him. ‘Two doctors are more than enough in any family, I am convinced.’ He turned to the elder clergyman. ‘Are you a physician, then, Dr Worthing?’

  ‘My doctorate is of Divinity,’ Worthing replied, clearly wondering what sort of blockhead did not know that.

  Griffiths glanced Hayden’s way, much unsaid.

  ‘Did I see golf clubs among the baggage being carried aboard?’ Saint-Denis enquired.

  ‘They were mine,’ Worthing responded.

  ‘I have been thought quite a golfer in my time,’ Saint-Denis informed them. ‘I only regret that I cannot indulge my skills oftener. It is a capital game.’

  ‘It has been spoiled somewhat by this foolish notion to reduce it from the proper twenty-two holes to an unholy eighteen. But I trust such a wrong-headed idea will shortly fail. Do you not agree, Lieutenant?’

  Saint-Denis smiled winningly. ‘Twenty-two is the proper number. I could not agree more.’

  ‘I have played but once,’ Wickham offered, ‘and only managed nineteen. I was wholly fagged after that.’

  ‘But that was only your first attempt,’ Saint-Denis replied. ‘After a few more matches you would soon see that twenty-two is the proper number. Why, perhaps we shall have the opportunity to indulge in a match someday, Wickham, and I will give you proper instruction. It is an endeavour in which every kind of nonsense is promoted as wisdom. When to use a track iron. Whether ash or hickory should be employed for shafts. I will set you straight, you needn’t worry on that account.’

  Wickham did not look terribly grateful for this offer, but Saint-Denis seemed rather pleased with his own generosity in the matter of golf instruction.

  ‘I am not sure that you will find a proper course upon which to play in the Mediterranean,’ Barthe offered innocently.

  ‘I only hope to find a suitable bit of pasture, now and again, in which to practise. Accomplishments are very easily lost if they are not kept up by repetition.’

  ‘That is why we have the men holy-stone the deck, every morning,’ Saint-Denis said, laughing at his own wit.

  ‘Why do you call it a holy-stone, pray?’ Smosh asked.

  Saint-Denis looked suddenly embarrassed, glancing around the table as though hoping someone might offer rescue, but no life-rings were thrown. ‘I do not know the answer to that, Mr Smosh,’ the lieutenant lied.

  ‘Why, is it not because the stones used are the size and shape of the Christian Bible?’ Gould asked.

  Smosh laughed, earning him a withering look from Worthing, who was clearly offended by this insult to the holy book. The silent criticism did not affect Smosh in any way. He continued to take full enjoyment from the remark, his face turning crimson.

  After a moment his laughter dwindled and he applied himself to his supper once again. ‘If I had known the fare aboard His Majesty’s ships was of this quality, Captain Hayden, I would have considered a career in the Navy. I believe I would.’

  ‘It would appear you do have a career in the Navy, Mr Smosh,’ Griffiths pointed out.

  Smosh was not the least offended but only chuckled. ‘So I do, Dr Griffiths. So I do, and pleased I am about it, too. To have such fine companions and a chance to see some part of the larger world, not to mention the prize money… The Navy never came into my mind and so I fell into the church for want of a better situation.’

  This admission caused a great reaction from Worthing. ‘You mean to say, sir, that you admit to entering the clergy for want of any true vocation?’

  Smosh wiped his wine-moistened mouth with Hayden’s new linen. ‘I do, most freely, but I must point out that the church does not much care by what means a man comes to it. The church has long been gaining souls, not through love of God but out of fear of eternal damnation. Though I think it passing strange, the church does not consider the man who fears the fires – a coward by any definition – any less a Christian than the man who comes to the church out of true religious feeling. Therefore, I conclude that they do not much care how they get their ministers and consider the man who loves God no better than the one who comes for want of some better situation. It is all the same to mother church.’

  ‘This is not only an affront to the church,’ Worthing responded, so completely offended that he stumbled for words, ‘but it is an affront to… to God!’

  ‘I don’t know why you would feel so,’ Smosh replied mildly. ‘I know several men ashore in possession of not one but two livings who leave curates do all their duties but the occasional Sunday sermon. Their valuable time is spent in shooting and similar pursuits. You’d be as like to see these gentlemen at a ball as visiting the sick or even in their own churches. No, I am merely honest about my reasons for entering the church and there is no merchandise in so little demand as honesty.’

  There was no saving the dinner after that, though thankfully it was soon over. After the guests had departed Hawthorne and Griffiths sat with Hayden and took a glass of port.

  ‘I dare say, the gunroom shall not lack for amusement for a few weeks,’ Hawthorne observed. He appeared to be still so pleased by his exploits ashore that he was aglow, the trace of a self-satisfied little smile fixed continually upon his face.

  ‘Worthing was rather determined that he would be the only man aboard addressed as “Doctor” was he not?’ Griffiths smiled.

  ‘I thought the good doctor of divinity might have an apoplexy when Smosh began to philosophize on his reasons for joining the church.’ Hawthorne laughed. ‘And Smosh seemed hardly aware that he had offended the man to his core. Such innocence.’

  ‘It was not in the least innocent,’ Griffiths assured him. ‘It was carefully calculated and delivered so dryly as to appear without intent. Do not be taken in by Smosh’s manner, Mr Hawthorne, it
is utterly contrived, I am sure. Beneath the amiable halfwit offered up for public consumption lies a very shrewd mind. Much is hidden there, and for what reason I know not.’

  ‘Oh, Doctor, I am certain you are wrong. An empty head upon a rather replete body, that is the Reverend Mr Smosh. I dare say, he has a weakness for food, drink and the fairer sex, if one may judge his appetites by this one night. Did you not hear him asking after the women we might meet upon our voyage? He was near to salivating.’

  ‘That weakness he may share with the rest of us, but weakness of mind is not an issue with him. You will see.’ Griffiths stood. ‘I should look in upon my charges, if you will excuse me.’

  Griffiths slipped quietly out, his footsteps retreating quickly to silence as he descended the stair.

  ‘Have you ever noticed that each man has a footstep that is as characteristic as his voice?’ Hawthorne asked. ‘Although the secret of man’s character is said to be contained in the fairness or unfairness of his hand, or in the shape of his skull, I have come to believe it is in his footstep.’

  ‘Perhaps you should write a pamphlet on the subject,’ Hayden suggested, smiling.

  ‘Perhaps I should. But think on it… Have you never noticed that our doctor – or perhaps I should say “surgeon” – has the lightest possible footfall? I think it is more than just chance or even some physical cause that dictates this. I believe it is a desire on his part to discommode no one. Not even the sound of his footfall should cause vexation to another. And this is not mere shrinking on his part. No, in the proper situation Griffiths will offer his opinions or even contradict another. But he is, above all things, considerate.’

  ‘And what of Barthe? I can, from my cabin when the skylight is closed, hear the man walking on the forecastle… in a gale. Does this mean he has consideration for no one?’

  Hawthorne laughed. ‘I don’t believe the opposite holds true in all cases. Mr Barthe is stomping about because he is always fuming over something – the world is nothing but a constant affront to our sailing master’s belief in the order of things. His stomping is much like his cursing – a manner of protest against the injustices of the Navy and life in general.’

  ‘You have been contemplating this for some time, I see.’

  ‘Only a few days. But I have begun to listen to the sound of men walking.’

  ‘I hate to think what you might comprehend from my manner of getting about.’

  ‘Oh, your footfall is easily understood, Captain. You know where you are going. It is a very decided footstep, yours. I know it the moment you pass overhead. No deck can hide you from me.’

  ‘I know we are going to the Mediterranean, Mr Hawthorne, beyond that all is hidden. Perhaps you will hear me stumbling about the deck in a few weeks, this way and that, one moment running the next in a stagger.’

  ‘No. Never you, sir. Always firm and decided.’ He took a sip of his port, his expounding on the matter of footsteps exhausted, apparently.

  ‘Well, here we are all together again, Mr Hawthorne.’

  The marine raised his glass as though in toast. ‘It is the greatest good fortune that we take such pleasure from each other’s company, for no one else will have us,’ Hawthorne observed.

  ‘It is good fortune. Your affairs in Bath were brought to a successful conclusion?’

  ‘To my greatest satisfaction, Captain Hayden – kind of you to enquire.’ Hawthorne sat forward and said very softly. ‘By utter chance, I learned something of our doctor while in Bath. Did you know he joined the Navy to escape a situation? He was very attached to a young woman in Portsmouth and his hopes were terribly disappointed; her family, you see, did not approve of him.’

  ‘So it was not his family he came to sea to escape? I am sorry to hear of his ill-fortune, though I should have known – he has hinted at it more than once, I now realize.’

  ‘There is more. When I learned of this I was determined to meet the lady, as her family were staying in Bath. I managed to discover her at a ball and insinuated my way into her company through the agency of an acquaintance. When first I saw her I thought that all made sense for she was quite a striking beauty, but when I was near enough to hear her speak I discovered that she was of the sort who has never been silent more than a moment altogether in her entire existence – I swear this woman must prattle on in her sleep – all the while saying nothing of any interest or value. I know that love makes fools of the most practical, level-headed individuals, but, even so, I was astonished. For a moment I was struck with the idea that I would attach her feelings and then dash her hopes cruelly, repayment for all the pain she had caused our friend, but I soon came to my senses on that account. But then, some time later, I was talking to a handsome lady of great charm and learning, when I discovered that she was not only the elder sister of the woman I believed had so injured Griffiths, but in fact I had been misinformed. She was the lady who had occasioned the disappointment. In a way, this made much more sense – I could easily imagine the doctor falling under her spell. Here is how I learned it. When some few details of our cruise came out in the natural course of conversation, she asked me if I were not much more inclined to make a life ashore now that I had witnessed all the dangers. I answered that we sailed with such a fine surgeon that we never worried – Griffiths would patch us up. “Obediah Griffiths?” the younger sister enquired. I had to laugh, partly from embarrassment and partly because I realized I had never known Griffiths’s Christian name – and now knew why. We quickly sorted out that, indeed, Obediah was the very surgeon of whom I spoke. I saw her glance her elder sister’s way, and the poor woman; all of her animation of spirit dissolved. Someone in the circle made a polite enquiry about Griffiths’s well-being – on her behalf, I expect – and that was that.’

  ‘Poor Griffiths. He has joined a larger corps than the Navy in that – the legion of disappointed hopes. Two years it has been since he took ship. Has this lady married?’

  ‘She has not, and much surprised you would be if you met her for she is of a perfectly good family – not rich, but with some properties and excellent history – and is herself amiable and thoughtful and good-hearted. Just the sort of woman who would make Griffiths a most satisfactory wife, though his family are certainly beneath her own.’

  ‘Perhaps she has come to regret giving him up, if she felt as you perceived when his name was mentioned. But there is little anyone can do about it, now. We are off tomorrow for points south. Griffiths will have to find himself a new love.’ Hayden rose and cupped a hand to a pane in the stern gallery, shading out reflections, and pressed his face close to the damp glass so that he might peer into the darkness. ‘The wind, I swear, has been making all day but the gale finally shows signs of blowing itself out.’

  ‘Perhaps we will finally get to sea, and the French will offer up a ship to us so that we might add to our prize money.’

  Hayden turned away from the windows. ‘Our purpose on this voyage will be to see that no British ships are offered up to the French.’

  Four

  Pool was a terse, impatient man who appeared much offended to find himself put in charge of a convoy on his way to join Admiral Lord Hood. The massive cabin of his seventy-four-gun ship was crowded with the masters of the transports and the escort captains.

  ‘I expect everyone to make enough sail to keep their place,’ Pool said loudly. ‘I will hear no excuses nor tolerate the least independence in this matter. My signals are to be obeyed and repeated to the ships down the line. We must cross Biscay in this season and I do not plan to heave to until spring. Is that understood? Weather will not be with us and we must make the best of any wind we can.’ He looked around at the gathered captains and masters, almost daring some poor fool to ask a question. ‘Even so late in the year, the French will be on the lookout for us. They cannot have failed to learn of our convoy forming, and will snatch any who lag behind. Hayden will bring up the rear in the Themis, but he cannot abandon that position to rescue your ship if you fall
out of line.’ He held up a small book. ‘Everyone has their copy of the signal book and my instructions? Good. If any among you has a question, ask it now.’

  But no one did… or perhaps dared. The masters went out, muttering, leaving the escort captains behind.

  Pool gathered them round a table, where a chart had been unrolled, his sailing master dumbly at hand. ‘I will not hide it from you; I am much out of humour with this convoy duty. I have reason to be in the Mediterranean where Toulon is endangered and my presence will serve some real purpose. These masters will do everything within their power to hamper us, but I have learned that the loss of but one ship to French privateers will add a little urgency to all their evolutions and speed their indolent crews. Let us hope some enterprising Frenchman gathers up a laggard sooner rather than later so the lesson is quickly learned.’

  Hayden dearly hoped that Pool said this in jest, but there was nothing in his manner or face to suggest that it was not utterly in earnest.

  Pool put his finger on the chart. ‘We must give Ushant a much wider berth than I should like, and keep all these unweatherly vessels away from the French coast, for gales from the south-west are too common in this season. We all know it is a bloody foolish notion to send a convoy to sea so late in the year, but we must make the best of it. I expect you all to do your part in hurrying these ships along and to bring the majority of them safely to Gibraltar. Captain Stewart shall be the ‘whipper in’ and try to keep transports in their places and carrying sail.’ He glanced up at Hayden. ‘You have not made your post, Hayden, but I expect you to play your part, even so. If a French squadron appears you must be prepared to meet them until such time as we can send you aid, and if aid is not possible, to forestall them as long as you can that the convoy might get clear. Is that understood? Your crew is up to it?’

  ‘Completely up to it, sir.’