by Peter Greene
“Yes, Your Majesty, it will be my pleasure,” said Captain Moore.
“There is always room for a few more of Boney’s ships at the bottom of the sea, or to be added to our fine fleet via capture. That, I assume, is your specialty, Captain Walker?”
The room, again, was stunned. Less than an hour ago, the Admiralty had taken Walker’s entire future away, and his prospects for command were in great doubt. Now it had all been turned around utterly and completely. Gorman continued to disguise his laughter as a cough and received another glass of water.
“It is my specialty, Your Highness,” smiled Walker, “and I will execute your order with the utmost seriousness and dispatch.”
“Now, Mr. Langley,” continued Jonathan. “The men love him and respect him, and you should have seen him when we attacked the Danielle! I am told he was out in front, slicing through enemies left and right. He led the way! He is an excellent swordsman and taught me more than a few tricks. I honestly believe he lets Captain Walker win when they fence, though both are excellent and I would fear having to face them—even if just for fun! Mr. Langley should have his own ship, of course.”
“Jonathan!” shouted Langley, unable to stop himself. Yes, that is what he desired, his own command. However, there are rules, and an order to these things. One can’t just jump the ladder, as they say, and get a ship out of turn!
“A nice fast forty-four would suit him fine,” added Jonathan. “Everyone in the Navy knows those are the most desirable. And he would need to be promoted to Captain, of course.”
“Make it so, Colonel Taylor,” said the King, “unless Captain Langley objects?”
Langley just shook his head vigorously and bowed.
“What of your friend Sean?” asked the King, now directing his gaze at the young Irishman.
“Sean?” said Jonathan. He realized that Sean was content with just a bed to sleep in and a few good friends. Now that Sean would be living at the Moores' house, how could he possibly want for more? Jonathan looked at Sean for an idea, but his friend just smiled and shrugged his shoulders as if to say “I don’t know, I don’t need a thing!”
And then it hit Jonathan like a bolt of lightning.
“He wants to be a Royal Marine, like Captain Gorman! The beautiful red coat will go well with his hair, don’t you think?”
“Yes, yes it would! Is that what you desire, bomb-maker?” asked the King.
Sean reflected for an instant. “I don’t believe, Your Highness, that I could ever be a marine quite like Captain Gorman,” Sean said. “He is handy with sword and pistol, and a great leader of men. But I would gladly attempt it!”
“Captain Gorman, is this possible?” asked the King.
“He will need to pass his exam and he will need a sponsor, Your Majesty,” said Gorman, smiling as if he were setting a trap for someone. “That will be difficult, with no true connections to those in power—”
“I will sponsor him!” said three voices at the same time. Captain Moore, Langley and Harrison had all volunteered at once.
“Spe-len-did!” laughed the King. “I will let you men fight it out to see who will be the boy’s sponsor. We must be sure the right people are informed. Gorman, can you arrange his exam for us?”
“With pleasure, Your Majesty!” said Gorman with a bow.
“And what of Captain Gorman? Is there anything he desires?”
Jonathan tried but could not think of a single thing. Gorman was a mystery, and though he felt he could trust him and considered himself a friend, he really knew nothing about him. What could he possibly want?
“I, Your Majesty, enjoy the free life. Please assign me to any duty as long as it involves the downfall of Napoleon,” said Gorman graciously.
“I know a little of your exploits, Captain Gorman,” said the King, “and I am told that sometimes it is better not to know what you are up to or your whereabouts. Let us leave your gift for later. You may request it whenever it is needed.”
“Very gracious, Your Majesty,” said Gorman, bowing again.
“Spe-len-did!” said the King. “What of Lieutenant Harrison? He has newly been promoted, has he not?”
“Mr. Harrison?” asked Jonathan. “Yes. And he is the easiest of them all! I know his true love!”
“Jonathan?” squawked Harrison, “Whatever do you mean?”
The King looked shocked and frowned. “I am not sure even a King can help a young man with the girl of his fancy, but is it advice you seek? Hmm?”
“Oh no, Your Majesty,” laughed Jonathan. “She is not a girl! Harrison’s love is the Periwinkle! He knows her lines, her sails and her history!”
“The Periwinkle?” asked the King. “What is that?”
“He means HMS Paladin, Your Majesty. A graceful sloop, sometimes used as a packet,” said Captain Walker.
“Oh! The Paladin! I know her!” said the King. “I have actually been aboard. She is fast and there is not a ship more beautiful in the navy of any country. However, I believe such a coveted command is hard to get. Lieutenant Sutton, whom I met at last year’s ball, was assigned to her. And that just recently, as I recall. This may be hard to accomplish, even for me, you know. A King can’t take away a favor from one to give to another.”
“I understand completely, Your Majesty,” said Harrison, “I am greatly satisfied serving with Captain Walker. I have much to learn before assuming command of a ship, whichever one I receive.”
The King was deep in thought and shook his head a bit. “I will have to discuss this and give it some further consideration. However, I’d advise you, Mr. Harrison, to learn what will serve you well and learn it quickly. I will not forget your accomplishments. Now, all we have left is Jonathan. Young man, what is it that is your true desire?”
Jonathan realized that he knew the aims and dreams of almost every one of his friends, but not himself. He had found his father, and he had food, clothing, a place to live, and friendship. The only other thing Jonathan wanted was to return to the sea, though his father had said that was not to happen. How could he choose between the sea and his father’s wishes?
Looking up, Jonathan noticed that everyone was watching at him intently, and his father, seemingly reading his mind, was staring most keenly.
“I-I really . . . have all I need, Your Majesty. I have been without my father for five years . . . and that is my desire, to be with him. And to sail . . . ” Jonathan’s voice trailed off as he considered the disagreement with his father.
The King noticed the tension between the two Moores and, after a moment, had figured out the issue. He smiled and said quietly, “Then you as well, Jonathan, have a favor to use, when and if you ever need one. Mind your father well. I am sure that your future will be bright. Fate allows those who aspire to achieve—isn’t that right, Captain?”
Captain Moore realized that the King was suggesting a course of action. The message was not lost, as Nathaniel had come to appreciate the fact that Jonathan was a talented young man and was needed in the Navy. However, he was also his son, his only family, and he was missed by his father.
Couldn’t he stay in London for a short time to make up for all the years of being apart? Nathaniel thought. Then again, the King is the King.
“Yes, Your Highness,” he said. “Fate will allow.”
* * * * *
It was only a matter of hours for the city of London to hear of the knighting of Captain William Walker, who was now, of course, formally addressed as Captain Sir William Walker. Within a day, all the London newspapers had numerous accounts, some even factual, about the mission to Skull Eye Island, the subsequent audience with King George, and all the gifts that had been bestowed upon the victorious crew. Equally interesting to some was the fact that Captain Moore was now reunited with his son, Jonathan, and they were living happily in his small apartment on Charing Cross.
Also reported in the papers was the sudden transfer of Admirals Worthing and Barrow to assist in governing the penal colony on the is
land-continent of Australia. The articles explained the horrible conditions on the island and the almost hellish climate and exotic diseases running rampant throughout the land. By all accounts, Australia was a most inhospitable place.
Jonathan and Sean spent the next several weeks with Captain Moore when he was available, and when not, with Mr. Harrison. The three boys spent many days eating together, visiting the vast Royal Naval Libraries and even fit some fencing into their busy schedule. In fact, there seemed to be almost as much fencing as there was eating.
One afternoon, in the early spring, Miss Thompson appeared at the Moore home and took the boys into the small study in the back of the receiving room.
“It is time for your reading lessons, Sean,” she announced, causing Sean to run enthusiastically for his copy of “The Legend of King Arthur”. However, upon his return, Miss Thompson produced a small board and chalk, and proceeded to drill Sean on the letters of the alphabet, their sounds and how they formed a few simple words.
“Miss Thompson, begging your pardon,” said Sean after trying to sound out the letters c-a-t into a word, “Shouldn’t that be spelled k-a-t, as the ‘c’ sometimes has a soft sound as in…ceiling?”
“You are about to find, Mr. Flagon,” she said, “that the English language is more of an art form than a science. Am I right, Jonathan?”
“Indeed, Miss Thompson. Wait until you study the formation of vowels together, as in ‘i’ and ‘e.’ It is simply chaos that someone with too much time has decided to create a conflicting structure around. Impossible, but you will overcome it.”
“After all,” Sean said optimistically, “I can speak it, more or less! How hard will it be to read?”
As Miss Thompson continued teaching her lessons over the next few weeks, it seemed that Sean progressed nicely. He was soon reading simple sentences from the other books she brought over, mostly nursery rhymes and the like, but they gave Sean confidence. Jonathan also joined in the lessons as well. Though he had found a few books to read while he lived on the streets, it was still a welcome refresher for him. Each night, as they were sent to bed, they read the books that had been given to them by candlelight until they fell fast asleep.
In the middle of January, Captain Walker was sitting in his study when an envoy from the Admiralty delivered a message—his new assignment. Walker retreated to the fireside, added a log, poked about the ambers, and opened the letter. With a warm drink by his side, he began reading.
To the honorable Captain Sir William Walker:
This is to inform you of your immediate assignment by His Royal Majesty to perform a specific favor to the King. You are forthwith instructed to contact Governor Dowdeswell of the Bahamas and obtain information as to the activities of French and American privateers and other criminals about the Caribbean Sea. After exploration of the area and capture or destruction of any illegals encountered, please return for further orders after a period of four months.
Please depart at your earliest convenience. Your new ship assignment is HMS Doggard, formerly known as the French seventy-four Danielle, as it has been renamed.
Sincerely,
Admiral John Barrow, London, Sunday,
January 11, 1801
Walker read the note again to be sure of its contents. The mission itself was a peach, an easy assignment usually welcomed by some captains. Normally, Walker would scoff at such a simple errand. However, with the loss of Langley to his own command, and more than likely Jonathan and a few others, it would be a chore to take a new vessel out to sea. A simple task of cruising the warm and pleasant waters of the Caribbean looking for a few left-over scraggly pirates would suit him just fine. The chance of some prize money for the capture of a pirate ship or two was also a welcome event.
It was the other item in the letter that upset him greatly. According to the orders, the Danielle had been renamed the Doggard.
“What in all the blue blazes is the meaning of that name?!” he yelled aloud. “The Doggard? By all the saints! The most preposterous title for a ship I have ever heard! What were they thinking?”
As he reread the letter it became obvious. The order was surely the last action and insult, from Admiral Barrow. It was the Admiral’s way of punishing him for having him sent to Australia. And Barrow himself had signed it.
“Well,” said Walker after he sipped his brandy, “If that is all the old goat can do as his last action of his post at the Admiralty, then good riddance to him. I will take it up with Nathaniel when the time is proper. But now, I have work to do. Mrs. Walker!” he called, “I am off once again! Come have a listen!”
As Walker spoke with his wife, a light afternoon snow began to fall outside, adding a delicate layer to the already present coat of white that covered the city. Not far away, Jonathan, Sean, and Captain Moore accompanied Miss Thompson to Piccadilly Circus, to explore the streets and shop at the many stores. The apartment on Charing Cross, according to Miss Thompson, needed some “cozying,” and a female touch was surely needed. They searched for new furniture, some rugs and even a few choice meats and cheeses for the cupboard. The gentlemen, secretly bored beyond all belief, but keeping smiles on their faces, waited outside a butcher shop while Miss Thompson engaged the proprietor. They had been at it all day, and though mostly at the direction of the lady for all purchases, Jonathan had himself picked out a small silver-chained necklace with a delicate silver dolphin hanging as a locket. In one of the eyes was set a small blue crystal.
“Jonny, it is beautiful!” said Sean, with a perplexed look on his face. “But, well, it is a little, girlish, isn’t it?”
“Sean, you ninny,” Jonathan said. “It is not for me. It is for Miss Delain Dowdeswell.” Delain was, of course, the lovely and exciting daughter of Governor William Dowdeswell. Jonathan, Sean and the others met the Governor and his family at a celebratory ball held in honor of their victorious mission to Skull Eye Island. The two had become fond of each other during their brief time together, and though Delain still resided in Nassau, a world away in the beautiful Caribbean Sea, Jonathan wished that someday he would see her again.
“Ah. That is all well and good then,” Sean said. “Steward stopped by this morning and mentioned that the Dani is assigned to the Caribbean again, so I am sure we will see all the Ladies Dowdeswell in our travels. Captain Walker will not want to split up the three musketeers, meaning us and Mr. Harrison. Ha-ha! We do make him look good!”
“True!” said Jonathan. “Either finding treasure or obtaining a new ship for his needs, we are quite valuable to him.”
Jonathan then stopped short when he saw the look on his father’s face. He was not necessarily displeased, but worried. The few times they had discussed the topic of returning to sea, his father had soundly disapproved. Nathaniel was quite set against his son leaving just yet. Jonathan had now come to the realization that Mr. Harrison, Sean, Steward, and Captain Walker might take the Danielle on an adventure without him. That would break his heart, as would his leaving his dear father behind. Jonathan realized that no matter what may happen, he was lost again.
Miss Thompson now exited the butcher shop, carrying a few small packages. “There are more inside, Nathaniel,” she said, “Only a few dozen.”
“We will see about the future, gentlemen,” said Captain Moore, “but for now, let us concern ourselves with the gathering of these packages Miss Thompson has chosen and load them into the carriage. I am sure it will take only three or four trips!”
“Captain Moore!” Barbara said, surprised, “Are you suggesting that I have purchased too much?”
“No,” Nathaniel said, “I am not suggesting. I am stating a fact!”
They all laughed and began loading packages as the carriage arrived. It was only a few moments before Nathaniel noticed that Jonathan was missing.
“Jonathan?” he called calmly, but soon, after looking about and not seeing his son, a fear came over him. His heart raced. “Jonathan!” he called loudly, searching frantically.
> Sean and Miss Thompson abruptly stopped their loading, to immediately see the concern on Captain Moore’s face. They began looking about as well.
Did he run off? Upset with me? thought Nathaniel, or did someone take him? Some past adversary?
After a frantic moment or two, Sean reached up and tugged the Captain’s sleeve. He pointed to the entrance of an alley, where they all saw Jonathan, his back turned to them, addressing a small boy. The boy had a dirty face and was dressed in rags. He stared intently at Jonathan. They could not hear what was being said. However, the boy was listening keenly and nodding his head. Jonathan reached in his pocket and handed the boy more than a few small, paper-wrapped items, then all of the spending money his father had given him. It may have totaled only a dozen or so shillings, but on the streets, that was literally a fortune. The boy looked at his prize, nodding again as Jonathan spoke. Jonathan put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, then hugged him tightly.
“Dear, dear, dear,” said Miss Thompson, “Sean, does he know that boy?”
But there was no answer. Sean had also run off, to another shivering, homeless boy standing on a corner nearby. He, like Jonathan, handed over the hidden food he had stored in his wool coat, and then his shillings.
February the sixth came overcast, with a drizzling rain in the very early morning and a slight chill. However, as the sun rose from behind the clouds at a bit past eight, the brisk air was bearable. If one stood and faced the sun, the warmth that promised spring was certainly felt. The once snowy streets were now clear, and even the dampness of the alleys and fields was slowly drying.
Inside the apartment on Charing Cross, Jonathan awoke as the day lightened and made his way downstairs to the small kitchen. His father was already there, silently reading a paper and sipping tea with a spot of cream in it. Jonathan quietly filled his tea egg with aromatic black tea and placed it in his chosen cup. From a pot on the stove, he added almost boiling water and let it steep for two minutes. On the table was a wicker basket filled with small cakes, surely from Miss Thompson and most likely delivered late last night. She seemed to be about quite often, Jonathan noticed, and doting on the men with all the care and concern of a wife and a mother. As far as Jonathan was concerned, that was perfectly welcome. Though he missed his mother dearly and had for all the years he lived on the streets, now he was beginning to accept her passing, as much as one could expect. Possibly the appearance of Miss Thompson lent a gentle hand. Besides her great beauty, she was kind, tender, and actually, quite fun. Jonathan thought the house could use a little laughter and Miss Thompson brought that in abundance. She didn’t even mind the teasing the “boys” dealt out and could come back with a clever remark that was jarring and unexpected. Sean, Jonathan, and Captain Moore eagerly looked forward to her visits and outings together.
