Julian Stockwin - Tenacious

There was a moment's pause as the news sank in, then the wardroom broke into good-natured shouts of envy and felicitation.

"He has been made commander into Dompteur sloop-of-war and late prize, to join Earl St Vincent before Cadiz."

Kydd was startled by the intensity of his reaction to this news: envy was turning unworthily to jealousy. As a commander, Bryant was now lifted out and above them all to a different and higher plane of existence as captain of his own ship. Kydd forced a smile as he looked across at Bryant, who was red-faced with pleasure, loudly admitting his good fortune. Independence, prize-money, the prospect of leading a ship's company to honour and glory in his own name ... Bryant had it all now.

Then the feeling passed. No doubt Kydd's turn would come— he couldn't be the junior for ever, and there was still a chance that there would be further promotions after the Nile. Kydd's natural generosity of spirit returned and he leaned across to shake Bryant's hand. "Give you joy of y'r step, sir," he said, with a broad smile. "We shall wet y' swab afore ye leave!" On his plain lieutenant's uniform Bryant would henceforth ship a golden epaulette to larboard for all the world to see and know by it that he was now the captain of a ship.

Captain Houghton left his command in the morning of the following day. As was the custom the officers rowed him ashore in his barge, still leaving unanswered the all-important question of who would succeed.

"Ah, yes," said Adams, reflectively, in the wardroom afterwards. "This is all very well, but it's who they'll find for premier that I'd be more concerned with. Stranger coming in, doesn't know our ways, a new first luff can be a deuced awkward party."

Kydd agreed—the first lieutenant was responsible for so many vital domestic arrangements, from apportioning the watch-and-station bill of the hands to ensuring before the captain that the appearance of the ship was taut and seaman-like. There was plenty of scope for tyranny or slackness, both equally dismaying within the confines of a man-o'-war.

"Sir?" It was the duty master's mate at the door. "What do we do wi' this'n?" It was a plain message, sealed, and addressed to the first lieutenant, HMS Tenacious. "Been waitin' these several days fer the new first l'tenant, and we don't rightly know what t' do with it."

"Well, now, and here's a puzzler," said Adams, turning it over and trying to glimpse its contents. Very obviously it was not of the usual flow of administrative trivia for it was of different quality paper and the seal was a private one.

"Return it," Bampton said flatly. "There is no first lieutenant."

"Open it," Pybus and Kydd said together. Renzi frowned: reading a gentleman's mail was a sad lapse in propriety.

Adams grinned. "Since there's no indication on the outside of who sent this, I propose to open it and discover where to return it."

He fumbled at the seal, broke it and began reading the short letter. "Good God!" he gasped. "It's the new Owner. He's asking the first l'tenant to prepare the ship for his arrival—this afternoon!"

In the space of two hours there was little of substance that could be done to the ship's appearance and when, at precisely four bells, a boat was reported putting off from the shore the officers gathered, expecting the worst.

The boatswain's calls twittered bravely as a lone figure in the full dress uniform of a post-captain, Royal Navy, mounted the side. The piping ceased as a tall, precise-looking officer doffed his hat to the quarterdeck and again to Bampton at the head of the waiting line of officers.

"Er, Bampton, second lieutenant," he said, removing his hat. "I regret to say, there is no first lieutenant at the moment."

"Thank you, Mr Bampton," said the officer, after a pause.

"Sir, might I now introduce Mr Adams—"

"Later, Mr Bampton." Stepping to the centre of the quarterdeck the officer withdrew a parchment, which he unfolded. Clearing his throat he began to read. "By the Commissioners for executing the Office of Lord High Admiral ... Captain Christopher Main Faulkner ... hereby appointed to the command of His Majesty's Ship Tenacious ..." The man had a high, penetrating voice, which to Kydd came oddly from such a tall figure. "... whereof you shall answer at your peril ..." Faulkner concluded, folded his commission and returned it inside his coat—and HMS Tenacious had a new captain.

"There will be a meeting of all officers in the great cabin in one hour. Thank you, gentlemen."

It allowed just enough time to hoist aboard the new captain's furniture and other baggage before the officers assembled as instructed.

"Please be seated," Faulkner began. Rather older than the captains Kydd had known, the man's manner was careful and fastidious. "I am happy to make your several acquaintances," he said evenly. "In the matter of the first lieutenant we have a difficulty. Only this morning was I told that Mr Protheroe, designated for the post, has unfortunately been struck down with a fever, a most vexing circumstance. Clearly this vessel requires a first lieutenant but in the time available I have been unsuccessful in finding an officer of sufficient seniority. Therefore I am going to ask Mr Bampton to accept the post."

Bampton started with surprise, then gave a barely suppressed smile of triumph.

"Mr Adams will advance to second lieutenant, but concerning the remaining two gentlemen I have my reservations—their slight length of service in this vessel does not warrant my confidence that they are ready for service at a more senior level."

Kydd coloured. After the Nile and service on the North American station he knew he was more experienced than most at his age.

Faulkner steepled his fingers. "Sir Horatio has been kind enough to find me an officer prepared for immediate employment, and he will be joining Tenacious tomorrow." He paused, his brow furrowing in annoyance. "However, there is a difficulty. That officer is a passed midshipman only, newly promoted to acting lieutenant. Thus I am obliged to appoint him as fifth lieutenant and therefore signal lieutenant, and trust that Mr Renzi as third and Mr Kydd as fourth lieutenant will find they are able to discharge their responsibilities in a correct and timely manner, as befits their new station."

He looked soberly round the room. "It is particularly regrettable that there are so few officers of seniority available in this part of the Mediterranean, but haste is necessary in this instance. I refer, in fact, to the sailing orders that I have just received.

"Gentlemen, Tenacious being in all respects ready for sea, she will be proceeding to a secret rendezvous to assist in an enterprise of great importance, the nature of which I may not divulge to you until we are ten leagues to seaward."

CHAPTER 8

"MINORCA! OF COURSE ..."

"It has t' be," agreed Kydd, offering the remaining whitebait to Renzi. It did not take much deliberation to understand why an invasion of the easternmost of the three main islands of the Balearics was thought so necessary. Britain had re-entered the Mediterranean, but her victorious fleet was alone in a hostile sea; it was urgent that a forward base be established to maintain it. In Port Mahon there was a compendious harbour and a fine dockyard—and Minorca was an island, therefore defensible once taken. And, unlike Gibraltar, with reliable winds.

Kydd glanced up the table. It was odd to see Bampton at the head, president of the mess. He looked to the other end where their new junior mess member sat quietly. "Mr Dugdale, did y' ever visit Minorca at all?"

"Why, yes, Mr Kydd," the man said warily, reluctant to imperil his position with any ill-considered move. He was older than almost all of the other officers, far from the green newly promoted midshipman they had expected. He had found a place as a midshipman in the last war, then been left without a ship at its end, and had eked out a penurious existence ashore until the outbreak of the present war. Only now had he the good fortune to secure an acting lieutenancy.