by M. C. Muir
‘Tell me, Charles, are you still intent on continuing in the navy? Dr Whipple advised me that you had expressed an interest in pursuing a career in medicine. You are at liberty to answer freely.’
Charles Goodridge shuffled from one foot to the other before answering. ‘I enjoyed the time I was at sea with you, Captain. It was the best adventure any young man could wish for. More recently, however, I saw the fighting ships return to port after the Battle of Trafalgar and realized how easily men and ships can be broken. I have no desire to fight the enemy from behind the barrel of an 18-pound gun.’ He looked the captain straight in the face. ‘I hope I do not disappoint you, Captain.’
‘Indeed you do not. I appreciate your candour.’
The boy had grown so much in maturity; the change was hard for Oliver to reconcile.
‘Dr Whipple says if I work hard, when I am sixteen, I could gain entrance to the University in Edinburgh, and study to become a physician.’
‘The doctor is a wise man and I recommend you heed his advice. I will be speaking with him in due course. In the meantime, I presume your studies here are of a nautical nature, whereas the university will require studies in the sciences and proficiency in Latin, I believe.’
Charles nodded in agreement. He had obviously given the matter some prior thought.
‘Did you know Charles Darwin entered the university in Edinburgh when he was sixteen to study medicine? He later travelled by sea around the world documenting its natural wonders. Perhaps like Darwin you can combine medicine with some time at sea.’
‘I will take heed of Dr Whipple’s words. I value his advice on all things.’
Oliver nodded. ‘I may not see you again before I sail, but I wish you well.’
‘Thank you, Captain,’ the boy said. Then he bowed again, turned and departed the room.
Oliver sighed. He felt deflated by how much the happy, ebullient lad had changed in a short time. Was that the price he must pay for naval service? Would his daughter manifest similar changes every time he took up another commission and was absent for several months every year. It saddened him and made him realise he had little permanence anywhere. He was confused. Perhaps, after all, he should settle for a country estate or indeed buy the villa on the hill in Madeira.
Walking through the busy port streets, full of noise and bustle, his thoughts were centred on only one thing. The letters from Dr Whipple and the Lisbon lawyer confirming all was in readiness for Miss Olivia to travel, in the care of a nanny, on a packet boat to Portsmouth via Falmouth.
The final letter stated that Miss Olivia Vargas had departed from Portugal. The lawyer prayed for her a safe voyage and wished her well for her new life in England.
Also included with the correspondence was an account for legal services and for the cost of passage for one adult and one child, plus other incidentals. Oliver was not concerned with those matters. Foremost on his mind was the fact that if the arrangements had all gone as planned, his daughter would already be ensconced in the house on the High Street.
Familiar with the location, it took him half an hour to walk to the doctor’s house from the dockyard but, as he neared the residence, he decided to continue along the High Street to the George Hotel and partake of something to eat.
Perhaps it was a degree of uncertainty that made him visit the hotel before proceeding further.
After removing his cloak and hat, he was directed to a table by the bay window overlooking the street. A fine meal was served, but he ate without smelling or tasting the food. The glass of wine disappeared without him realizing he had drunk it.
With the empty plate removed and the table left bare, Oliver sat and gazed at the painting on the opposite wall. It was a portrait of Horatio Nelson in full dress uniform captured by an artist several years earlier. Beneath the picture was a hand-printed note that stated that His Lordship had departed on his final fatal journey to Trafalgar from that very place.
What a life the naval hero had lived and what a legacy he had left – an inspiration to the many young men who would follow him.
Then Oliver compared it to his own humble beginnings, scrubbing the stinking deck of his grandfather’s herring boat. He looked at his hand for the fingers he had lost in battle, but there was no comparison to the loss of an arm and an eye that Nelson had suffered.
His mind drifted back to the funeral he had attended in London and wondered how long the British hero would be remembered and his life acknowledged.
He hoped he would not be quickly forgotten.
Rising from the table, Oliver Quintrell donned his cloak and hat and walked back the short distance to the house bearing the doctor’s name-plaque on the wall.
The housekeeper greeted him politely and ushered him upstairs to the drawing room. It was warm and light and the room had a homely feel.
‘Do come in, Oliver,’ Jonathon Whipple said enthusiastically, inviting the captain to take a seat. Oliver looked around for anything that appeared different from his previous visit but could find nothing.
‘Wait a moment,’ the doctor begged. ‘Connie,’ he called.
Almost instantly, the door opened and Consuela Pilkington, with a radiant look on her face, swept in. Almost hidden within the folds of her skirt, was a small girl, her hair shining like polished jet, her eyes large and enquiring.
Connie Pilkington approached the captain and dropped a polite curtsy. The little girl, holding tightly to her hand, copied her as best she could.
‘Captain Quintrell,’ Connie said, ‘I would like you to meet Miss Olivia Vargas.’
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From the Author
I would like to thank you for reading Nelson’s Wake and if you enjoyed it, hope you will leave a review on Amazon.
I certainly enjoyed writing it.
A list of the five previous Oliver Quintrell books appears at the front of this e-book.
A Facebook page, of the same name, has been set up to support Nelson’s Wake. It provides further information about Lord Nelson, his life and death, and HMS Victory.
References
THE FUNERAL OF ADMIRAL LORD NELSON 1806 - Fairburn’s second edition -Oxford University digitised May 2007.
AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE OF THE DEATH OF LORD NELSON – William Beatty (Surgeon) – 1807.
TRAFALGAR – An eyewitness History – (Ed) Tom Pocock
THE 50-GUN SHIP – Rif Winfield
TRAFALGAR – John Terraine
THE PURSUIT OF VICTORY – Roger Knight
NELSON’S MEN O’WAR – Peter Goodwin
THE WOODEN WORLD – N.A.M. Rodger
THE BRITISH INVASION OF THE RIVER PLATE 1806-1807 – Ben Hughes
JACK TAR – Roy and Lesley Adkins
STEERING TO GLORY – Nicholas Blake
Plus the author’s personal visits to The Crypt at St Paul’s Cathedral, to HMS Victory at Portsmouth, and to Gibraltar.
M.C. Muir
