by Peter Greene
Barbara held out the food she had taken from beneath their pillows. Nathaniel looked at it quizzically.
“Did you not get enough to eat at dinner, my dear?” he asked.
“Really, Captain Moore!” she said, pushing him into the hallway. “I found these under the boys’ pillows.”
Nathaniel looked at the food again and slowly nodded.
“It appears the lessons of the street die hard,” he said. “I am afraid they do not yet trust that they will never return to their hard life of near-starvation. This must make them feel better, more secure. At least that is my best guess.”
“The poor dears!” said Miss Thompson. “But we can’t allow them to have meat under their pillows! Whatever should we do?”
Nathaniel took the rolls and tarts from her and set them back under the boy’s pillows. He kissed them each goodnight and returned to the hallway.
“Miss Thompson, I thank you again for your kindness. I wonder if he ever will be, well . . . whole again, though . . . he seems to be just about fine.”
“If there is anything I can do to help, Captain Moore, please do not hesitate to ask,” she said.
“Please, Miss Thompson. Call me Nathaniel if you could find it agreeable.”
Barbara Thompson smiled, blushed, and looked into his eyes.
“I do find it agreeable,” she said.
* * * * *
December twenty-sixth arrived at the Walker home to much buzzing and excitement. Though not the traditional day to open gifts, it would have to do for the Walkers, Moores, a Flagon, and a Thompson. Breakfast was served quite late due to the sleeping-in of the guests. However, once all were present, the meal became more of a brunch. There were eggs, bacon, ham, biscuits, freshly squeezed orange juice, and even buttermilk. The devouring took less than twenty minutes, even though it had taken hours to prepare.
Eventually, after being invited to the formal living room by Mrs. Walker and Miss Thompson, the boys opened the large double doors to find a massive Christmas tree decorated with small gifts, candies, treats, and colorful, shiny trinkets. Petite candles here and there on the tree’s boughs glittered happily.
“We added a few touches here and a few gifts there,” said Mrs. Walker proudly. “And some early morning shopping bolstered the gifts!”
“Look Sean!” Jonathan said. “Have you ever seen anything more beautiful in your life?”
“No, Jonny Boy! Not even those fancy fishes I saw in the seas of the Caribbean!”
As the adults took their places in chairs about the tree, the boys sat on the comfortable rug that covered the floor, right by all the presents. There were not too many by most standards, but to Sean and Jonathan, it was a cornucopia of gifts. Captain Walker himself passed out the brightly wrapped presents and made everyone open each package one at a time for all to see and admire.
Jonathan received mostly clothes from Miss Thompson and Mrs. Walker, as he really had none except for his uniform. The thick wool socks and extra pair of shoes he especially liked. He did receive a small cooking stove from none other than Steward, who instructed him on its safe usage and finer points. Jonathan actually hugged the man, causing Steward to become speechless for a moment. Captain Walker gave Jonathan a map of the world and a matching case to fit it inside. Jonathan was enamored with the map, and he and Sean vowed to memorize every country, city, and feature before the New Year. His father gave Jonathan a thick, wool, navy coat and a pocket watch that looked to be made of gold.
“Your mother gave it to me when I became a captain. May it serve you well, if you ever return to sea.”
Sean received clothing from the ladies as well, and from Steward he received a small fighting knife that he could wear in a simple leather sheath tied to his leg. Though the women thought it a bit dangerous for a young boy, Steward assured them that Sean was probably the best swordsman on the Danielle, maybe with the exception of himself, and that this innocent, little “letter opener,” as he called it, would pose no trouble for Sean. Sean thanked Steward heartily as he strapped the knife to his ankle.
“I was not sure as to your desires, Sean,” said Captain Moore, “however, I was able to get something wrapped with the help of Miss Thompson. Not a true present, per se, but something I think you will find agreeable.”
He handed Sean a small box, no bigger than a deck of playing cards. As Sean opened it, he wondered what it could be. There was thin paper inside that also needed to be unwound. Finally, Sean held up a simple silver key on a silver chain, both tarnished with age and use. Puzzled, he looked at Captain Moore.
“The key to my apartment at Charing Cross,” said Nathaniel. “I would be most honored if you would consider yourself one of the Moores, at least until you find somewhere else you would like to live.”
Sean reacted slowly, considering all this and what was being offered. He had been without a family for almost as long as Jonathan and there was no telling where they were now. He had left them because it was clear that they could not afford to raise all their children in the city. On their farm in Ireland, when times were good, he remembered each child doing work and providing food for the table. But once the Flagons had moved to the city, there was nothing to do but beg. And that barely provided enough for Sean alone, much less an entire family. So he ran off one summer day, figuring that his family was better off with one less mouth to feed.
Now, a real home, and probably a very nice one at that, was being offered. And he and Jonathan would be together, like brothers.
“I-I don’t know how to thank you, Captain Moore,” he managed to say.
Jonathan just smiled and nodded to his father. “We are inseparable, Sean. So it only makes sense!”
“Well, Jonny,” Sean said, “the last time we were separated, I had to blow up a ship to get you to come for me! Let’s hope that isn’t the case with your father’s house!”
The room exploded in laughter once again.
“Flagon!” bellowed the Captain, “Your mentor, Captain Gorman dropped this off last night for you. He asked that you open it this morning. Don’t disappoint him now.”
Sean was surprised and opened the package quickly. He held it up for all to see.
“A book! With a sword on the cover!” said Sean as he leafed through the pages. At first he smiled. However, after a few moments of looking at the contents of the book, disappointment slowly settled upon his face.
“What is it, Sean?” asked Miss Thompson.
“It’s the Legend of King Arthur, dearie,” added Mrs. Walker.
“Oh!” Jonathan said. “Sean never has had the opportunity to learn to read!”
They all looked at each other, wondering why Gorman would send the boy a book if he was illiterate. Gorman was not mean-spirited, so there had to be a reason. It was Jonathan who eventually provided an explanation.
“Sean, I remember your wish to become a Royal Marine someday, and I am sure that Gorman is telling you that to accomplish that, you must learn to read.”
Everyone nodded, believing that was certainly the meaning behind the gift. Sean pondered it for a moment, then smiled.
“Even if that is not the reason, I could learn to read, couldn’t I?”
“I will teach you at first,” replied Miss Thompson, “and I am sure Jonathan will help you when you are aboard your next ship.”
“Of course I will!” said Jonathan.
“That is if you are aboard another ship,” added Captain Moore.
The announcement caused the entire room to lapse into silence. Jonathan was not sure he understood.
“I-I beg your pardon, Father?” he said.
“We can discuss it later Jonathan. However, at this point, I have been without you for over five years. I am very reluctant to let you go just yet.”
Jonathan was stunned. He couldn’t imagine not being on a ship ever again. Even if his father meant that it was only for a little while—how long? Then again, Jonathan had only just come back and I had not seen his father for ov
er five years.
I want to be with him forever and ever. But I love the sea. I am now a midshipman! What else could I ever be?
After a moment more of silence, Captain Walker stood up and reminded them all that they had a busy day ahead. First was the appointment at the Admiralty, then an audience with the King.
“So let us prepare for both the bad and the good, gentlemen. We must look ship-shape and be at our best,” said Captain Walker.
Jonathan walked with his father, his best friend, and Captain Walker across the large mall before the great building of The Admiralty.
“This is Whitehall, boys,” said Nathaniel.
Two domes rose from the top of the four-story stone building with a great parapet between. The windows were tall and thin, and for such an immense building, the entrance seemed insignificant and common.
With some trepidation, they all walked inside.
“Boys,” said Walker, “within these walls is the largest collection of bloated, un-feeling, stern, and politically wretched men ever collected into a single body. The Admirals in Whitehall govern all the doings of the Royal Navy, and only the King himself can change their decisions. They decide who is to receive punishment and who to receive favor. They decide which ship a new or reassigned captain is to receive and on what duty he is to perform.”
“These are not trivial men, boys,” Nathaniel said in a whisper. “They rule their world with an iron glove and will not take any insolence from a captain, much less a young midshipman and a seaman. You two are to wait outside the chamber and speak only when spoken to, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” the boys said in unison, now second-guessing their decision to come along and support Captain Walker. It seemed like facing the admirals was as dangerous as a battle at sea.
“Father,” said Jonathan softly, “Aren’t you now going to be an admiral too? Can’t you help Captain Walker and keep the other admirals in line?”
“Yes, I may become an admiral,” his father said, “though unfortunately, I am not one yet and when confirmed, I will be a very lowly admiral at that. I will be some help, as I am in favor with many here. But still, things can and do go horribly wrong here. Trouble appears, more quickly than a storm can brew in Hades, and blow twice as hard.”
They walked on through the dark stone halls, their footsteps echoing loudly, and they soon descended a flight of stairs. At times they passed other naval officers, some of whom acknowledged them, while others who rushed past, heads down. Eventually, as they walked another long hallway, they stopped at a slightly open area where two benches sat on either side of a large double door.
Gorman appeared from a side passage and solemnly opened the doors for them. Captain Moore walked in first, followed by Walker. Gorman paused and addressed the boys.
“Jonathan and Sean,” Gorman said, “please wait on the benches here and for God’s sake, be quiet!”
The boys nodded their heads in agreement and immediately took a seat on the hard stone bench.
They could hear voices from within and some chairs being moved about. Both listened intently, trying to follow the discussion. After a while, they could hear the proceedings goings on as if they were actually sitting in the room itself.
“Now on this twenty-sixth day of December, in the year eighteen-hundred, I, Admiral John Barrow, open this board of inquiry concerning Captain William Walker, formerly of the lost HMS Poseidon and as of now, unassigned to any ship in His Majesty’s Navy.”
Jonathan and Sean listened closely as another Admiral, who called himself Worthing, read an account of the battle between HMS Poseidon and the French seventy-four, Danielle. Jonathan was amazed at the detail about the battle, which could have only come from Captain Walker himself. It not only took into consideration the maneuvers in the ocean, but the position of both ships at any given time during the battle, the wind, and who had the advantage.
“Now, to read your words directly, Captain Walker,” said Worthing, “‘And upon a final confrontation, Poseidon, afire and damaged in fore and aft masts, taking on water, was maneuvered straight alongside the Danielle and, after a brief mis-aimed fire from the enemy deck guns, I instructed a carpenter’s crew to cut the main mast and pull it down as to land upon the Danielle. I then called for attack and all hands boarded the enemy via the mast-bridge or other means. We were victorious, taking the Danielle after much fighting, and we set about salvaging anything we could from the sinking Poseidon.’”
“That is correct,” said Walker.
“And the Poseidon was unsalvageable?” asked Admiral Barrow.
“Yes, sir, Admiral,” answered Walker.
“Though in various reports from your officers, more than one mentions that you ordered them to ignore the flames and prepare for boarding the enemy. Could it be that your desire for a larger ship and a larger prize payment clouded your judgment?”
Walker was shocked that the Admiral could say such a thing. The Poseidon was a proud ship and a fast one as well. No captain in his right mind would ever want to lose such a graceful and valuable ship as the Poseidon.
“Begging your pardon sir, no,” replied Captain Walker, somewhat angry at the suggestion. “My judgment was not clouded. It was clear to me that if we tended to the fires on the Poseidon, we would be sunk and many men lost, the mission a failure. I had to have a seaworthy ship. I took the Danielle for the good of my men and the mission, which as you know, was of the utmost importance and highly successful.”
“Indeed,” said Admiral Barrow. “I know of the headlines in the papers and the adventure you had. Not many are as lucky as you, able to traipse around the world, taking prize ships and the like. You have done quite well for yourself, Walker. Living high off the hog—”
“I am not sure what that has to do with anything, Admiral—” Walker added in his defense.
“—however, the loss of a vessel of His Majesty’s Navy,” continued Barrow, “is a serious issue. We must look at all angles and possibilities. I am sure something could have been done to save both ships.”
“Not likely, sir,” said Walker, still fuming slightly.
At this, the boys could hear Barrow take a large breath, like a dragon pulling in massive amounts of air to light the fire that was sure to burn out of its mouth in hot torrents.
“What did you say, Walker?!” exploded Barrow. “Are you questioning my perception of the situation? How dare you! I would think you would realize that I hold your future in my hands! Of all the gall!”
The next voice the boys heard, after the fire had subsided, was the calm voice of Captain Moore.
“Now, Admiral Barrow, Captain Walker meant no disrespect. He was just relaying the fact that he was there, in the heat of the battle, and was privy to a unique perception of the encounter as it did unfold. As I am sure the Admiral well knows, there is no view of combat quite like the front row.”
“Coming from a man who has lost two ships,” said Barrow, “you should know.”
There was a silence. The boys could hear another dragon sucking in air, enough to light an even bigger flame than the first.
“Why, Barrow, you bloated toady! How dare you suggest there was any inappropriate action taken in my commands of the Troy and the Helios? If I were any less a man, I would fly across this desk and teach you a lesson in battle strategy! You pompous mule! You wretched bilge rat! You moronic—”
“Is that your father?” asked Sean, now feeling that the door that separated the two dragons within was not quite strong enough to protect them.
“I believe it is!” said Jonathan. “And I thought Captain Walker had a temper!”
“Sit down, Moore!” exploded Barrow. “Know your place as I do mine. I will say what I want when I want! I am head of this review board, not you! You are cooking your friend’s goose now, as well as scuttling your own promotion to Admiral! Henceforth, you both are unassigned! No ships! The Danielle will undergo repairs and will be renamed and be assigned to the next captain in line. As
for you both, you will remain landside and we will inform you of your next duties shortly.”
“Unbelievable!” exploded Captain Moore. “This will not stand, I tell you!”
“Nathaniel, please . . . ” said Walker. He sounded defeated and embarrassed. His friend, trying to help, had done more harm than good.
“William,” said Nathaniel angrily, “they had their minds made up before we came in this room! They have decided to rename the ship and that takes some time and doing!”
Barrow chuckled a bit. “And what if we did? I know you are the darling of the press, Moore, and that Walker is a new hero of the Crown! But you are still, both, servants of this board and will treat it with respect and deference. Wait until the rest of the Admiralty hears about this!”
“And the King,” came a voice softly, but firm and clear.
“Who is that?” asked Jonathan from the other side of the door.
“Sounds like Captain Gorman to me!” said Sean. By this time both boys were sitting upright and shaking perceptibly.
“Pardon me,” said Worthing, “Who are you to speak, Gorman? We know your status as a sneak and a spy, and how you are tied up in this mess.”
“Being a sneak is essential to being a very effective spy, Admiral Worthing, and I am both sneaky and effective. And if by ‘this mess’ you mean the successful recovery of the Spanish treasure, then I am glad to be part of it. I am also a conduit to the King, who requires me to report directly to him after each of my missions, including this one. I am sure he would be shocked to hear of this outcome. In fact, he has asked me to inform him of the board’s decision and recommendations. Gentlemen?”
With that, Gorman stood and motioned Walker and Moore to the door.
“You are not dismissed!” roared Barrow, shocked.
“However,” said Gorman, “you may be. To His Majesty’s Palace. Captain Moore? Captain Walker? The King awaits us!”
