Julian Stockwin - Victory

‘We have one duty, and one only that transcends all others, and that is to go to our country’s aid when its need is greatest. And that means to provide Admiral Nelson with what he must have.

‘I was at the Nile. Lack of frigates nearly did for us then – and there’s going to be an even bigger battle soon when Bonaparte makes his move against England and no one knows when or where that’ll be. One thing only is certain: it’ll be frigates that’ll be telling Nelson.’

‘B-but—’

‘Consider for one moment what we’ve achieved. The mutiny’s been broke, we’ve a full crew and nothing to stop us sailing in three days. Isn’t that worth a little time out of discipline?’

‘Sir, are you prepared to take the word of those mutinous swabs?’

‘Most certainly. Mr Curzon?’

‘Sir, as I understand it, their complaint was that they’re not paid. And you’re . . . ?’

‘This is an evasion. They know damn well that a ship going out of commission doesn’t get a visit from the clerk o’ the cheque until the books have been sent to the Admiralty for the payment to be cleared. No – take my word on’t, it’s your old-fashioned Western Ocean rollick they’re wanting.’

‘But there are surely practical difficulties,’ Curzon came back.

‘How so?’

‘If you’re proposing to confine ’em aboard, how are they going to get their, um, women and grog?’

‘There’s ways and means, sir, which you should not be too nice in the enquiring.’

‘This is hard to take, sir!’ Howlett blurted. ‘Discipline subverted for common debauchery and—’

‘Mr Howlett, how long have you been in the Navy?’

‘Sir?’

Kydd sighed. ‘In your experience, what is the state of a man-o’-war new returned from sea? A nest o’ decorum, the men consulting their appearance, begging leave to give thanks for their deliverance?’

He smiled mirthlessly. ‘No, sir! Portsmouth Poll and her sisters flock out to get aboard and with ’em they bring their gin, and then, sir, the lower-deck soon resembles a promiscuous bacchanalia. But we don’t pay mind to it for, Mr Howlett, it’s the immemorial custom of the Service.

‘So you can see, gentlemen, all we’re about is allowing our brave tars their spree at the beginning, not the end o’ the voyage.’

Relieved murmurs echoed as the sense of where Kydd was leading penetrated. ‘And the ship’s log will show no more than it always does on these occasions – and this to be sent to the Admiralty only when we make port again.’

‘I mislike what they’ll say ashore when they hear of this,’ Howlett said edgily.

Kydd rounded on him: ‘And who’s to tell ’em? If any wants to come aboard they stay the whole time, no going back to spread the word. After we’ve sailed, who cares? We’re outward bound on the King’s service, as so we should.’

‘Er – the grog?’ muttered Curzon. ‘I think we should know . . .’

‘If you must. Our only contact with the shore is the cutter with a picked crew o’ trusties who’ll know to keep their mouths brailed up and I dare to say will know where there’s a decent haul of grog to be had. They come on board and there’s no one at the gangway to enquire too closely. It’ll serve.’

‘And – and the women?’

‘We first throw out a welcome to the wives yonder who’ll set up on the main-deck, then the other, er, ladies on the lower deck.’

‘B-but discipline, order?’

‘We leave them to it! Any who steps too far will answer to his shipmates as fouling their hawse. There’ll be grog a-swilling and lewd behaviour to set the devil himself to the blush – but none of us in witness, for bounds are set about it.’

Suddenly grinning at the appalled faces of his officers, Kydd said, ‘I advise you make your arrangements, gentlemen – I mean to throw open the ship at eight bells.’

Kydd heaved the deepest sigh imaginable: he was at last out in the open sea, sinking Portsmouth astern and leaving behind the ignoble scenes that had enabled them to achieve it. True, there were men comatose in the lee scuppers, and the mess-deck was a bear pit, but that was as nothing compared to the feeling of at last being quit of the land.

They passed the Isle of Wight in a fluky easterly breeze, losing Kickergill Tower in the far distance and then shaping course outward bound with all sight of old Portsmouth dissolved into a blue haze as their bowsprit eagerly sought the freedom of the seas.

He was determined to reach Nelson as soon as he could, but this would not be at the cost of prudence. The first thing was to get the ship away and let the healing power of the sea do its work. When L’Aurore ’s company was ready, there was the agreeable task of getting to know her, finding out her best points and, as well, the less endearing, a vital process if he was to throw his ship into battle with the confidence that was necessary in a commander.

It could not be hurried, for their very lives might depend on his deeply knowing his ship. Besides, in the course of events the company would shake down into their new vessel and, in a similar way, each learn about the other and the strengths and weaknesses, quirks and eccentricities that gave a ship its character.

Finally there was the formal procedure of producing an Admiralty Sailing Qualities Report on the vessel’s capabilities, required for all ships newly taken into service. Kydd’s intention was to stand west under easy sail until the next day, then in the chops of the Channel take his new ship through her paces, ending with a visit to Plymouth to have any defects and changes required made good at the dockyard.

Then he would set sail for the Mediterranean. That was the plan – but he was uneasily aware that his move to lessen the injustice of the turning over was appreciated for now but solved nothing in the long term. L’Aurore must sail foreign in days with a ship’s company having had no liberty ashore in England for years. Would this, over time, corrode their loyalty and fester into something worse? With a deep breath of salt-tangy sea air, he went below.

Once again he marvelled at the palatial splendour of his cabin – as spacious as a drawing room and intended for much the same purpose. Tonight he would have his officers to a leisurely dinner and try to ease the strains of the recent past.

‘Ho there, Tysoe. See if Mr Renzi is at leisure and then bring alongside a pair o’ gin toddies.’

It was deeply satisfying to be able to entertain his friend by right rather than the past subterfuge of pretending the ship’s clerk was being constantly required. The affairs of a captain’s confidential secretary were, of course, not to be questioned.

He greeted his friend while Tysoe occupied himself with the drinks. ‘I’m concerned you’re comfortable. Is the gunroom to your liking at all?’

‘A caution to all who’ve sailed in lesser breeds, I can assure you.’

‘And your studies – you’ll bless the opulence of your cabin, I’m thinking,’ Kydd added warmly.

‘Er, quite,’ Renzi said distantly, avoiding Kydd’s eye.

‘Oh? You know you have as well the liberties of the coach, if you wish. It’s in the nature of a public space I’ll agree, quantities of midshipmen and clerks diligently at their workings, but they’ll never dare bother you as they will answer to me.’

‘Um, yes, thank you.’

Kydd frowned. ‘I’m a mort puzzled, Nicholas. Is there anything amiss in your appointments? A prime scholar should not need for—’

‘No, no, dear fellow. My establishment is of the first rank, I do declare. It’s just – there’s a matter that’s of a particular distraction to me at the present time which . . . I must think on.’