I found I did not much like these reservations, and that ‘reasonably safe’ sounded reasonably ominous to me, and would have asked for clarification but that Mrs Morland forestalled me.”
“You have often mentioned the Philiki Hetairia recently, Edward,” she enquired, “but who exactly are they? Why should we be concerned about them?”
“The Philiki Hetairia, or Friendly Fellowship are a group of – I know not what precisely to call them – not precisely patriots, but nationalists, I suppose is a better word, who campaign for Greek independence from the Ottoman Empire. They are very active both in this country, in Russia, and in Greece. Here they raise money and stir up public support for their colleagues abroad. Lord Byron is only the most prominent of them to the public eye. In Russia they do much the same, but also recruit for their would-be army. In Greece they conduct all sorts of agitation against the Turkish Government, ranging from political meetings to armed insurrection. They are dangerous men. I will not quite call them fanatics, but they are certainly both unreliable and unpredictable. You would be well advised to avoid any contact with them.”
“I assure you that we shall take your advice,” replied Mrs Morland. “We shall be most unfriendly to this friendly brotherhood, shall we not, Mr Bennet? And we do not intend to go further than Corfu, do we?”
“Well, no,” I confirmed, “though who knows what opportunities may occur once we are there? But, certainly, I do not think that any of us are much given to courting danger in real life. Adventures are all very well on the pages of a book, but I should not like to meet one on the street.”
“Well said, Mr Bennet,” echoed his lordship, “take the advice of one who knows. Shun adventures. They are nasty, uncomfortable things, and if they do no more than make you late for dinner you may count yourself blessed. But dinner, I think, will be waiting for us now, and if you have had enough of tournons a nos moutons, let us turn to our mutton.”
During the course of doing justice to some very excellent mutton he provided further advice which turned out to be more immediately useful.
“And how do you propose to travel, Mr Bennet,” enquired Lady Hapworth. “I trust you will not be exposing the ladies of your company to the rigours of the Alpine passes in the winter?”
“No, my lady,” I replied, “we shall go by sea, which we may now do without ever setting foot on foreign soil. We have our passages booked as far as Gibraltar on the Castle Eden, which sails next week. From Gibraltar I am informed that there are regular sailings to Malta, whence passage may be had to Corfu.”
“You may reasonably count on John Company to get you off on time,” commented his lordship, “but you must know that the quality most necessary for a seafarer is patience. The most skillful mariner in the world is still at the mercy of wind and weather, and you may not find your voyage up the Mediterranean so very easy, especially at this time of year, what with the Tramuntana and the meltemi coming on.”
“What are the Tramuntana and the meltemi, sir,” piped up Kitty. “Are they pirates or slavers or some such?”
“Nothing so romantic, ma’am. They are mere winds, nothing more, but you will find that the mariners curse them quite as much as any pirate.”
“Yes, a storm at sea can be a terrible thing, to be sure,” remarked the Viscountess, “I trust you have Roundhouse cabins booked?”
“Our accommodations are in the Great Cabin,” I replied, “which sounds impressive enough. Is that the same as the Roundhouse?”
“Not at all, I fear. The Great Cabin is a deck lower than the roundhouse. It may be quieter, as being further from the deck, but the berths off it are mere darksome hutches, almost below the waterline, with windows that let the seawater in when there is any sort of weather, so that everything is soon soaked through, with no hope of drying out until the end of the voyage. Take my advice, Mr Bennet, and change into the Roundhouse if it may be possible. The cabins up there are much larger and more convenient, much better for both light and air. It is seldom, even in the very roughest weather, that the ports are compelled to be shut; and it is almost inconceivable to those who have never been at sea, how great a difference it makes in the comforts or discomforts of a voyage, whether a delicate person can have the enjoyment of light and air in bad weather, or be deprived of both, condemned in illness to a dark, close cabin, without the possibility of diverting the mind by reading, or any other employment.”
“There is also another advantage above stairs, which is the comparative degree of seclusion attainable in these cabins. A few steps lead from them all to the cuddy, or general apartment: there is no necessity to go out upon deck, or to go up or down stairs to meals; thus avoiding much of the annoyance of a rolling vessel, and all the disagreeableness attendant upon encountering persons engaged in the duties of a ship.”
“Aye, change into the Roundhouse by all means, if you can,” echoed her husband, “and remember to take your own bedding with you, for all you will get will be an empty cabin, bare as a granary in a famine.”
We took his lordship’s advice, and were glad we did so. We should have been gladder still had we realized exactly what was included in his use of the word ‘bedding’. With sheets, blankets and pillows we were provided, but beds themselves we had not thought to bring with us, nor any other furniture, and were dismayed to find that there was not a stick to be found in the cabins assigned to us. I call them ‘cabins’ for so they were described on the tickets, but in reality they were no more than spaces divided from one another by canvas partitions on wooden frames, providing no more in the way of privacy than a tent or marquee.
I went at once to the First Mate, for the Captain was not to be approached, to protest at this absence of comforts, only to be told that it was perfectly normal. Passengers were expected to provide their own furniture, most of them being on their way to spend several years in India, where their effects would be unloaded with them for use in their new homes. He referred me, however, to the purser, from whom, at a price, I was able to obtain cots and folding chairs for our apartments. The cots hung on ropes from the ceiling, or, rather, from the underside of the deck above, and afforded us much amusement upon retiring the first night. Not being fixed to the floor, however, they did much to counteract the swaying motion of the ship, and proved surprisingly comfortable.
We had fine weather and favourable winds for our voyage. Otherwise I doubt very much that the regular routine imposed by the Captain could have been maintained.
Meals were normally taken in the Cuddy.
Breakfast was at 8am and consisted of tea, biscuit, corned beef or curry. The biscuits were so hard that they were almost inedible. On the second morning there was a contest between two passengers, one of whom bet the other that he could not eat a biscuit in less than four minutes, using only his teeth.
A watch being laid upon the table, at it he went with a set of remarkably strong teeth, but strong as they were, we all thought he must lose his bet, and he was twice in extreme danger of choking, by which he lost several seconds. Notwithstanding this however, he, to our great surprise, accomplished his object, and won the wager, being six seconds within the given time.
The main meal of the day was dinner, which was served at 2 o’clock. For those, like us, reckoned important enough to dine with the Captain it was a very formal affair with everyone dressed in their most elegant clothes, and seated according to their social rank. The meal consisted of at least three courses. On our first day there were sixteen at the table for a meal which included pea soup, roast leg of mutton, hogs’ puddings, two fowls, two hams, two ducks, corned round of beef, mutton pies, pork pies, mutton chops, stewed cabbages and potatoes. This was followed by an enormous plum pudding and washed down with porter, spruce beer, port wine, sherry, gin, rum etc.
After the meal the ladies withdrew, leaving the gentlemen to enjoy a glass of port before the Captain and his senior officers resumed their duties.
How fit they may have been for those duties after such a repast
I cannot say, but I found the comfort of my cot most appealing.
Afternoon tea was served at six o’clock, followed by a light supper at nine, which usually consisted of soup, cheese and cold meats.
On such a diet we slept soundly enough, to be sure, and woke disposed to give little trouble to the mariners or anyone else.
We had fair winds the whole way, which gave us a pretty exalted notion of sea travel, and brought us to land at Gibraltar in scarcely a week.
Chapter Seven :Apes and Peacocks
Imagine the set of an opera with the stage direction for the opening scene reading ‘scruffy little garrison town somewhere on the Mediterranean’. Imagine one dusty street leading from the quayside towards a steep, pointy mountain, set here and there with palm trees and with narrow alleys twisting off on each side. Imagine white houses with red-tiled roofs blinding under the blistering heat of a cruel sun, with ragamuffins playing in the dust and their elders sleeping in scraps of shade. Add a dash of Portsmouth Point, and a view of a bay dotted with great ships at their moorings, and you will have some idea of our first sight of Gibraltar.
To six travellers fresh from the rigours of an English summer, pale from incessant fogs, their limbs still aching from the bequest of St Swithin, it was a revelation.
“I never really believed Colonel Brandon when he said that India was so hot,” said Mrs Morland, “nor so smelly. Yet one can only assume that it was worse than this, for we are still in Europe.”
“But only just,” replied her husband. “If you look over your shoulder you may see Africa.”
All eyes swivelled towards the exotic display of tall mountains in the distance across the water, far clearer than the famous view of France from Dover.
“Just think of what may be over there,” said Kitty, “Lions and tigers and elephants! Oh my!”
“I had rather think of what might be over here,” I replied, “for we have four days to wait before our connection to Malta is even due to leave, and must arrange accommodation until then. I presume they speak English here, although it hardly appears likely.”
I need not have concerned myself, however, for it was at Gibraltar that we first learned what a useful thing it is to have a relative, and a titled one at that, who has been this way before and has connections.
I was pondering what to do next when I was approached by a young gentleman – a very young gentleman, I thought – in the uniform of an Ensign of Foot.
“Mr Bennet, sir?” he piped, in a voice still soprano.
“The very same.” I replied.
“Governor’s compliments, sir, and he invites you and your party to join him for lunch and to stay at Government House until you are ready to continue your journey.”
“I am honoured by the invitation, sir, and very glad to accept it, but I confess I am at a loss as to why it should be extended. Or does His Excellency make a habit of inviting British travellers to stay with him?”
“Oh, no, sir, only friends of Lord Hapworth. General Don only got the letter about you yesterday, but we have been all ahoo preparing for you ever since. You must be very important, sir, although I do not recollect ever hearing of you before.”
“My own importance has, perhaps, been exaggerated, but I confess that Mrs Morton, here, is Lord Hapworth’s sister.”
“Then we’d best not keep her waiting, sir, hadn’t we? By your leave, sir.”
And with that he turned to two of the somnolent forms to our right, rousing them to their feet with a kick and more imprecations than I should have thought fitting for a child of his age, causing them to produce a handcart and pile our luggage upon it while we followed the young officer along the street.
“Apologies for His Excellency not sending his carriage, sir, but there are not many horses on the Rock, sir, and we have to husband them, and ‘tis but a step, after all.”
General Don, the Governor greeted us very kindly, in his private office, though obviously consumed with curiosity as to why he should have been called upon to extend his hospitality.
“Any friend of His Royal Highness is welcome, of course,” he remarked, but I do not recollect seeing you at court, Mr Bennet. It was a long time ago, however, since I last attended.”
“And I have never attended, sir,” I replied, “which would make our acquaintance even more unlikely. But I confess, sir, that I am at a loss to understand your reference to so exalted a figure as a Royal Highness.”
“My orders came from the Governor of Gibraltar, sir, His Royal Highness the Duke of Kent, for I am only the Lieutenant Governor, you know, the man who does all the work, while all the credit goes to my Royal Superior, who has never once set foot or even eye on the Rock these last ten years.”
“Then I fear we may be unwittingly guilty of an imposture, sir, for neither has any of my party set eye upon His Royal Highness. Mrs Morland, however, has a sister who is closely connected by marriage with Viscount Hapworth, and it is to him that we rely upon for our recommendation.”
“Ah, Hapworth,” he replied. “So that’s the way the wind blows, is it? I have never met his lordship – that is to say I have never knowingly met him, although, from all one hears I probably should not have known it if I had done so. But if your business is connected with his, sir, then you must know that I will do everything I can to assist you and to help you on your way. I think it better, however, if I do not appear personally any further. Discretion can only be furthered that way. Ensign Potter here will show you to your apartments, and attend to your every need. He has my full authority for any assistance you may require, and you and all your party may call upon me at any time, through him. I only regret that this present notice may have drawn unwanted attention to your progress, and wish that your journey will proceed without further mishap.”
With that, and a ceremonious bow, he was gone, but not before being closeted with young Potter in a corner of the room, sotto voce, for several minutes.
Our stay in Gibraltar was but a short one, but every effort was made to ensure that it was memorable. We attended a ball where most of the company were naval or military, with a sprinkling of local dignitaries of Spanish blood. We made an excursion up the Rock, to see the famous Barbary Apes, one of whom ran off with Mrs Bennet’s second-best bonnet, having snatched it from her head when she unwisely attempted to feed the beast. She screamed and immediately fell into the vapours, which set Kitty off, too, so that I was the only gentleman available to chase the brute. It was far too nimble for me, of course, so we must perforce reconcile ourselves to the loss. I had always detested the article in any case.
Most memorable, however, was the reception of the envoy of the Emperor of Morocco, a very gorgeously attired individual, attended by coal-black servants waving fans of peacock feathers.
The usual, meaningless diplomatic courtesies were exchanged, via an interpreter who changed them into a language which to me resembled nothing so much as a series of throat-clearings and expectorations, and which is apparently the Arab tongue.
Thereafter the whole entourage retired into a side room where the business of the day was continued.
Mr Potter explained it all to me.
“Those gentleman you see waiting their turn,” he said, “are captains of merchant vessels wishing to cross through the straits this next month. They are paying their respects to the Emperor, so that they may safely pass without fear of harassment by pirates from the Barbary Coast.”
“Their ‘respects’? And might those ‘respects’ take a certain golden form?”
“I believe they usually do, sir.”
“So you are telling me that English merchant captains are paying ransom money to an African Potentate in return for his protection against attacks from his subjects? It is a scandal, sir. Why does the navy not destroy these nests of pirates and end their menace?”
“I believe there are those in Parliament, sir, who think as you do, and, indeed, we are obliged to bombard their towns from time to time, when they grow too outrageous
. All I can tell you is that it has gone on ever so long, since before I was born even. During the war, you see, the Emperor’s goodwill was necessary to keep the fleet supplied with food and water and other necessities, and it was found more convenient to adopt this system. At one time, I believe, it was all done officially, with a government subsidy, but those days are over. The Merchant Captains, however, or at least most of them, still think it wiser to pay their ‘insurance money’ over before they pass the Straits.”
“And does it work? Does it at least guarantee safe passage to our vessels?”
“By and large it does, sir. The Emperor values this income, and comes down hard on those of his subjects who endanger it. Real hard, by what one hears. Crucifixions and impalements are the least of it, they say. But of late there has been one Rais – that’s what they call their captains, sir – who has defied the Emperor, and snaps at our shipping from time to time. Yusuf ibn Ayub, they call him, Joseph the son of Job. He ships out of some port further east along the coast, and the Emperor has so far not been able to put him down. But you need not worry, sir, I am sure you will have no trouble.”
“Your assurance is a great comfort to me, Mr Potter, but may I beg you not to mention the subject to the ladies? This, I think, must be one of those occasions where ignorance is bliss.”
This bliss, it transpired, need not be indefinitely prolonged, for shortly after this conversation I was approached by a rather stout gentleman in a blue coat that was not quite naval.
“Mr Bennet?” he enquired. “Permit me to introduce myself. I am Captain Bigelow of the Trade’s Increase. You and your party are shipped with me to Valetta.”
Our Neighbours' Sport Beyond the Seas Page 5
