Patrick O'Brian: The Wine-Dark Sea

Martin, Reade and Plaice boarded the Franklin on three successive swells, Bonden fending off; and in a high clear voice Reade, taking off his hat, said, 'Monsieur, je prends le commandement de ce vaisseau.'

'Bien, Monsieur,' said Dutourd.

Reade stepped to the stump of the mainmast: Plaice lashed a stray studding-sail boom to it and amid the heavy indifference of the Franklin's crew they hoisted British colours. There was a modest cheer from the Surprise. Dutourd said 'Gentlemen, most of the wounded are in the cabin. May I lead the way?'

As they went down the ladder they heard Reade call to Bonden, who had an extremely powerful voice, telling him to hail the ship and ask for the bosun, his mate, Padeen and all the hands who could be spared: the prize was near foundering.

On the starboard side of the cabin a dozen men lay side by side and another was stretched out motionless on the stern-window locker; in this heat they were suffering terribly from thirst. But the ship had such a heel to larboard that on the other side there was a wretched tangle of living and dead washing about with every roll: screams, groaning, a shocking stench and cries for help, cries for rescue.

'Come, sir, take off your coat,' said Stephen. Dutourd obeyed and the three of them pulled and lifted with what care they could. The dead they dragged to the half-deck; the living they laid in something like an order of urgency. 'Can you command your men?' asked Stephen.

'Some few, I think,' said Dutourd. 'But most of them are drunk.'

'Then tell them to throw the dead overboard and to bring buckets and swabs to clean where the dead men lay.' He called to Bonden out of the shattered stern-window, 'Barret Bonden, now. Can you heave up the little keg till Mr Martin and I can catch a hold on it?'

'I'll try, sir,' said Bonden.

'We shall have to move this man,' said Stephen, nodding at the figure lying on the locker. 'In any case he is dead.'

'He was my sailing-master,' said Dutourd. 'Your last shot killed him, his mate and most of the crew. The other gun burst.'

Stephen nodded. He had seen a raking shot do terrible damage; and as for a bursting gun... 'Shall we ease him out of the window? I must look to these men at once.'

'Very well,' said Dutourd, and as the rigid corpse slid into the sea so Bonden called, 'On the rise, sir; clap on,' and the keg came aboard. Martin started the bung with a serving-mallet: he had only a filthy can to serve it out, but in this unnatural parching heat neither filth nor can was of the least account, only the infinitely precious water.

'Now, sir,' said Stephen to Dutourd, 'a pint is all, or you will bloat. Sit here and show me your head.' Beneath the handkerchief, dried blood and matted hair, there was a razor-like cut along the side of his scalp, certainly a piece of flying metal: Stephen clipped, sponged and sewed - no reaction as the needle went in - clapped a bandage over all and said, 'That should answer for the moment. Pray go on deck and set your men to pumping more briskly. They may have the other breaker.'

Stephen was thoroughly accustomed to the consequences of a battle at sea and Martin moderately so, but here the usual gunshot and splinter wounds and the frightful effects of a bursting gun were accompanied by the unfamiliar wounds caused by volcanic eruption, worse lacerations than they had seen in the Surprise and, since the Franklin had been closer to the vent, much more severe burning. They were both dog-tired, short of supplies, short of strength and of breath in the stifling heat of the cabin, and it was with relief that they saw Padeen arrive with lint, tow, bandages, splints, all that an intelligent man could think of, and heard Mr Bulkeley wind his call, ordering the Franklins to the pumps. They might not have understood the bosun's French, but there was no mistaking his rope's end, his pointing finger and his terrible voice. Jack had sent Awkward Davies over with Padeen, as well as the bosun and all the expert hands he could spare - Davies was biddable with Stephen - and with these two very powerful men to lift, hold and restrain, the medicoes dealt with their patients each in turn.

They were taking a leg off at the hip when Reade came below: averting his ashy face he said, 'Sir, I am to carry the Franklin's master back to the ship with his papers. Have you any message?'

'None, thank you, Mr Reade. Padeen, clap on, now.'

'Before I go, sir, shall I get the bosun to unship the companion?'

Stephen did not hear him through the patient's long quavering scream, but a moment later the whole framework overhead was lifted off and the fetid room was filled with brilliant light and clean, almost cool sea-air.

From the first Jack Aubrey had disliked all that he had heard of Dutourd: Stephen described him as a good benevolent man who had been misled first by 'that mumping villain Rousseau' and later by his passionate belief in his own system, based it was true on a hatred of poverty, war and injustice, but also on the assumption that men were naturally and equally good, needing only a firm, friendly hand to set them on the right path, the path to the realization of their full potentialities. This of course entailed the abolition of the present order, which had so perverted them, and of the established churches. It was old, old stuff, familiar in all its variations, but Stephen had never heard it expressed with such freshness, fire and conviction. Neither fire nor conviction survived to reach Jack in Stephen's summary, however, but the doctrine that levelled Nelson with one of his own bargemen was clear enough, and he watched the approaching boat with a cold look in his eye.

The coldness grew to strong disapproval when Dutourd, coming aboard in the traditional manner with the side-men offering him hand-ropes, failed to salute the quarterdeck. He had also failed to put on a sword to make his formal surrender. Jack at once retired to his cabin, saying to Pullings, 'Tom, pray bring that man below, with his papers.'

He received Dutourd sitting, but he did not tell Killick to place a chair for the gentleman, while to Dutourd himself he said 'I believe, sir, that you speak English fluently?'

'Moderately so, sir: and may I use what fluency I possess to thank you for your humanity to my people? Your surgeon and his assistant have exerted themselves nobly.'

'You are very good, sir,' said Jack with a civil inclination of his head; and after an enquiry about Dutourd's wound he said 'I take it that you are not a seaman by profession? That you are not very well acquainted with the customs of the sea?'

'Scarcely at all, sir. I have managed a pleasure-boat, but for the open sea I have always engaged a sailing-master. I cannot describe myself as a seaman: I have spent very little time on the sea.'

'That alters the case somewhat,' thought Jack, and he said 'Please to show me your papers.'

Dutourd's most recent sailing-master had been an exact and orderly person as well as a taut skipper and an excellent seaman, and Dutourd handed over a complete set wrapped in waxed sailcloth.

Jack looked through them with satisfaction; then frowned and looked through the parcels again. 'But where is your commission, or letter of marque?'

'I have no commission or letter of marque, sir,' replied Dutourd, shaking his head and smiling a little. 'I am only a private citizen, not a naval officer. My sole purpose was to found a colony for the benefit of mankind.'

'No commission, either American or French?'

'No, no. It never occurred to me to solicit one. Is it looked upon as a necessary formality?'

'Very much so.'

'I remember having received a letter from the Minister of Marine wishing me every happiness on my voyage: perhaps that would answer?'

'I am afraid not, sir. Your happiness has included the taking of several prizes, I collect?'