I turned to look at him. Since he and I were the only two in the ship with prior knowledge of Billy Halethorpe, I knew he felt the loss as keenly as I. I couldn’t help but remember those strange days in the Washington Navy Yard when Billy first made his appearance. Surely I would, and I knew Henry would, miss him.
The weather finally began to moderate, and a hot dinner was served in the wardroom to the appreciation of all its denizens. By nightfall, the wind and rain eased enough to get some sail on and alter course back towards our destination. The captain had invited me, Minister Crawford, and Doctor Jackson to join him for a supper of toasted cheese and portable soup, prepared in fine fashion by Appene.
“Oliver, you might show up for supper about a half hour early, as I have a few things to discuss, if you wouldn’t mind. Our guests need not be privy to our conversation.” Henry confided a bit later.
“Yes sir. I shall be there as you wish.”
The bell on deck had just clanged out seven bells, making the hour a half before eight o’clock, and I presented myself to the Marine outside the captain’s door. He came to attention, greeted me properly, and announced my arrival. A muffled “come in, Mister Baldwin” sounded from behind the door, and the Marine opened it like it was the door to the vault containing the Crown Jewels.
“I am still puzzling out Billy. In spite of my best efforts, I have come up with a blank as to why he might have knowingly committed suicide. Any thoughts on the subject, Oliver?” Allen was seated at his desk, the furnishings restored after having been secured for the heavy weather. There was no sign of his cabin-mate, Minister Crawford.
“I can’t fathom it, Cap’n. Every time I spoke to the man, he seemed his usual self – happy in a carefree sort of way – and appeared oblivious to everything, just like always. I reckon it will remain a mystery, and a sad one at that. I can remember those days in United States as if they were just last week, not several years ago. All of Billy’s antics, his playing the idiot when the yard superintendent confronted him, the way his shipmates hid him in the sail locker, and the cart-loads of rigging equipment and paint he procured for us. And then when he left that ship without so much as a word to any. He was a curious fellow, to be sure.”
“Aye, Oliver. But that is not the reason I wanted you a bit early this evening. We need to put some plans in place for the rest of the cruise, but first we need to figure out where we will put our passengers ashore. I have identified a few places where we might avoid the likelihood of crossing tacks with the Royal Navy, but the charts I have are dubious at best, and I suspect some of the small ports I have selected as possibles would not have a pilot available. Look here.”
He was looking at a chart of the French coast on his desk. It covered the waters south of the Channel, including the port of Brest and the coast to the southwards, just at the northern part of the Bay of Biscay. His finger rested on something noted as the “Quimper Peninsula” with which I was unfamiliar.
“Surely we want to steer clear of Brest. I would imagine that the Brits have that shut tighter than a spinster’s purse. Plus,” I offered as I studied the chart more closely, “it’s barely a two-day sail from Plymouth. The Royal Navy will be thicker than flies around there. What is this Quimper Peninsula?
“I heard our French passenger – the fisherman…Loremy, as I recall – mention he had fished the waters south of there, out of l’Orient. Should we not find a pilot available, he might be able to help us out and earn his keep.”
“A fine idea, sir. I will find him and inquire about his willingness to assist in piloting. We’ll have to have Doctor Jackson act as translator, as my French is, how shall I say…terr-EEE-ble.”
Henry looked up from the chart, scowled at something that had crossed his mind, and stood up. My first thought was that he reacted to my exaggerated inability to speak French; I was wrong.
“What would be perfect for us would be finding a neutral out here before we make landfall; we might be able to gain some intelligence as to the location of the blockade and what we might encounter. With some luck, this bit of weather we have been enjoying recently will be the end of it and we will enjoy fair winds and less turbulent seas. We certainly need some clearing – and soon! I can’t set a course for a landfall until I know where in God’s ocean we might be. Over a day of running off has set us to the south more than I wanted, but we should be able to make it up, should we finally be blessed with some favorable winds and seas.”
There was really nothing I could add. Of course he was right. I took another look at the chart, noting the vastness of the open ocean to the west of our now-intended landfall; we could be almost anywhere on it! Perhaps with the vastness of the ocean surrounding us, we might not cross tacks with an enemy cruiser! I offered a silent entreaty to the good Lord above to grant us clear skies before too long.
Appene shuffled into the cabin in that curious gait the Chinese seem to use. A bit hunched over, his eyes cast downward, and his slippers scuffing along the deck in tiny steps. He carried a tray fitted with sides, on which sat a sizeable tureen and a stack of bowls. The table had already been set, and the china in evidence was the captain’s number one set. The fiddles had been put in place on the table and the tablecloth dampened to preclude dishes and glasses from sliding around. A full carafe of wine stood on the fiddled sideboard surrounded by a fleet of glasses. Crystal, I noted, in a pattern I had not before seen. Perhaps my friend had used his prize money from the capture of Macedonian to good effect! With no wife or intended to supply with such frivolities, his cabin would logically be the beneficiary.
We both looked up at the sound of the butt of the Marine’s gun slamming the deck and waited a moment for the announcement that our guests had arrived. We were not disappointed and the Marine’s deep voice announced that both the minister and his secretary sought admission.
“Come in, gentlemen, by all means.” Henry called through the door.
And they did just that. The American minister to France, dressed in formal wear, stepped in, followed close aboard by his secretary, Doctor Henry Jackson, also dressed in formal attire. Suddenly, I felt a bit out of place, attired as I was in sea clothes – brushed and cleaned by Bladen, but obviously not proper attire, to judge by the finery displayed by our passengers. I glanced at the captain.
“I should step forward and put on a better uniform, Cap’n.” I said quietly, noting as I did that he, also, was in the same uniform he had worn most of the day and still even a bit damp, I saw.
“Not a bit, Oliver. Stay just as you are. I have no intent of changing my own clothes, nor, now, the opportunity. Our guests are simply over-dressed. And that’s their choice.” He smiled, answering me in hushed tones, as quietly as I had addressed him. Then, to our guests, he added, “Welcome, gentlemen. I trust our simple fare this evening will live up to your obvious expectations. At sea, the supper we take is anything but elegant; merely a pleasant repast designed to tide us over from our dinner.
“May I offer you a glass?”
Jackson muttered something to his principal that I didn’t catch but which caused Crawford to color slightly. Likely closing out an earlier discussion, maybe about what attire would be proper! Both men smiled graciously and accepted a glass of a very pleasant Madeira from Appene, and raised them to chin level. Jackson offered a simple toast to improving weather and a timely arrival in France. We all concurred with the sentiment. Then I added my own offering.
“To Billy Halethorpe: may he rest in peace.” They all, especially Henry, agreed with the sentiment.
“What a tragedy that was this morning. The chap was surely brave beyond measure to jump into the sea as he did. It was a wonderful act to save his shipmate, but I cannot understand why he would choose to kill himself after such a deed! But of course, I do…did…not know the man. Was he suffering from something, a disease or some dreadful malady, perchance?” Jackson voiced what many of us had pondered since this morning.
“A worthy question, Doctor Jackson. We k
new Halethorpe for more than four years. While he always struck both of us, from the first moment we first encountered him, as a trifle odd, neither of us would have thought him suicidal.” Henry looked at me, raised his eyebrows, and paused.
I nodded my agreement and added, “Billy – Halethorpe – was certainly more than a trifle odd, but he proved a fine sailor and a great asset in preparing the frigate United States for sea back in aught nine. I can scarcely contemplate how difficult it might have been without his assistance.”
“Aye, indeed!” the captain agreed and, noting the puzzled expressions his guests wore, began to elaborate on our experience with Arbutus Halethorpe.
“The man was an enigma through and through. He had taken up residence in the frigate when she was in ordinary, unbeknownst to the superintendent of the navy yard, for something on the order of two years, living “off the land” as it were by helping himself to naval stores as he saw fit. It must have driven the superintendent mad trying to figure out what was happening to his inventory!” Henry laughed and winked knowingly at me.
“We know it did, Cap’n! Don’t you remember all the trips Superintendent Johnson made seeking out our stowaway and demanding the return of his stores? He positively knew we had Billy aboard, but neither his mates nor the officers would give him up for any reason.” I turned to Crawford and Jackson, both of whom seemed to relish in the story. Appene had discreetly refilled their glasses. “The man had quite endeared himself to all of us, not only by sharing with us his vast knowledge of the yard’s intricacies, but by his often curious but quite harmless manner.”
The minister smiled broadly, as though he himself were remembering what I described, and said, “Oh, do tell!”
Henry took up the story. “When we first met him – remember, Oliver? – he was dressed like a vagrant…well, I guess that’s because he was exactly that…in an overly large greatcoat secured with a broad leather strap about his middle and sporting a pistol – a huge pistol – tucked into it. We later discovered that the pistol, which he took great pleasure in waving about most menacingly, was quite harmless – incapable of firing at all, it was! But the huge knife he wore under his coat was anything but harmless. And he could throw it some distance with surprising accuracy. We found that out quite early on in our…relationship.” Our guests gasped, expecting, no doubt, a tale to follow of bloodshed and mayhem. Henry pressed on, ignoring their unspoken question.
“But in spite of his vacant stare, unruly costume, and unkempt person, he quickly proved himself a great asset.”
“Aye, that he did. But I couldn’t help but think, at the time, that he had little choice, as we had taken over his home and he was not about to roam around the navy yard seeking another!” I added to the story. “He had a way of looking at you, deep-set eyes peering out from a beetle brow, a great mop of long hair, never dressed, filthy canvas trousers, and a most annoying habit of addressing every officer by his Christian name, regardless of rank or position.”
“Well, he never tried that with Cap’n Decatur, though. And you might have noticed, Oliver, that when I took command of Argus, here, he referred to me as ‘cap’n’ without fail.” We both smiled at the recollection.
“And you let him pursue that habit? I am surprised! I have little experience with you navy fellows, Captain, but from what little I have gleaned, I would submit that protocol and propriety are high in importance!” Crawford wore a shocked expression, eyebrows raised and mouth agape. He added, “I know the chaps in the Federal Army would not stand for anything of that stripe! Insubordination like that would surely draw one a whipping.”
I responded. “Billy was an exception, Minister. We had little choice. We tried; God knows we tried. But Billy was Billy and that’s all there was to it. I doubt a flogging would have changed his behavior a whit! At least he showed some level of reverence to the captain. And while he referred to all the officers by their given names, he was never less than respectful to them…us.” I smiled.
The captain smiled at his guests and gestured to the table. “Shall we sit, gentlemen? I am sure that Appene’s beef soup and toasted cheese will delight your pallets and fill your bellies.” He looked sharply at Minister Crawford as he spoke this last, and raised his eyebrows.
“Fear not, Captain Allen. I am quite nearly restored to good health. You need not be concerned with me decorating your cabin again. I am quite proud of myself, in fact; I could even grow to enjoy this seafaring business!”
Crawford smiled and turned toward the table where Appene stood ready to pass the plates of food – the melted cheese and toast first – and glasses of wine to each of us, as the captain served. Crawford looked positively eager to eat; something I had not observed in several days. It was surprising to me, especially as the seas were still unsettled. Nonetheless, we all sat in our appointed chairs and waited expectantly for our supper.
“Captain: I recognize that this unseemly weather has put us off course to some extent, what with our…what was it called? Scudding? Yes, I believe that is what I heard it called. Yes, scudding off before the tempest, as it were.” Doctor Jackson seemed quite proud of himself for using a proper nautical expression. He adjusted the way his plate sat before him and pressed on. “What I am interested in discovering, sir, is when you think we might arrive in France. I understand you cannot predict the winds and seas, but your best guess would be of interest.” Jackson smiled, a bit patronizingly, I thought.
“An interesting question, indeed, Doctor. As you noted, I can surely neither control nor predict what the weather might hold in store for us. As you may have observed over the past several hours, the winds and seas have moderated and we are more or less back on a heading that will take us, more or less, where we want to go. Until the skies clear and the master can shoot a celestial body to determine our position, I can do little more. Once we have determined how far off our proper course we were blown in the storm, I can more closely estimate when we might raise the coast.
“There is, of course, one other factor that will signify – enemy cruisers. Should we have the misfortune to encounter any, I am obliged by my orders to fight only as a last resort; I am to run, if possible, rather than engage. Shortly after we left the coast, you may recall, we did just that. As we make our easting, I suspect that there will be more likelihood of being seen by the enemy. That would also be something I can neither predict nor control. We will be in – or close to – hostile waters as we complete our voyage, depending on where we can put you ashore in France.”
“I quite understand, Captain. That, in fact, was to be my next question: where do you think we will be able to disembark? Surely, England can’t have the whole coast closed off.”
“I doubt that they have the resources to do that, Doctor. But guessing where they might be at any given time is a bit problematic, and it might be perilous simply to decide, without proper intelligence, where to put in. So I am unable to answer your question at the moment. In a few days I can more ably judge our precise destination. Should we encounter no further difficulties, we could be sighting the coast in less than a fortnight.”
“Hmm. Another two weeks? I had been led to think that the trip was shorter than that. A speedy vessel, I was told, could make the crossing in something on the order of three weeks. Your officers keep telling me that Argus is a fast ship, but now you’re telling us it will be closer to four – ” Jackson did not finish his sentence; he simply let the rest of his accusation hang in the silence that seemed to trump even the noises of the ship and the seas.
“As I believe I mentioned, Doctor Jackson, I will not hazard a guess as to the remainder of our voyage; there are simply too many unknown elements to consider. Elements that I cannot control. Surely I join you in hoping for a prompt conclusion, unmarred by either weather or conflict with the enemy. After all, my officers and men are eager for some action with the enemy, which we cannot consider while your party remains aboard. We shall have to see what the future holds.” The captain was clearly s
training to control himself. He did not take kindly to having his judgment, or his performance, called into question.
I took the brief lull in the conversation to suggest to Crawford that we – the captain and I – would appreciate the opportunity to have a word with our French passenger, Monsieur Loremy, about his familiarity with the French coast.
“Have you no charts of the area, Mister Baldwin? I would have thought the Navy Department would have seen fit to provide you with the proper tools with which to navigate. Surely, we should have such on board. After all, we are not at war with France!”
Then I began to bristle and choked back a sharp retort. Henry, now calmer, sailed to my rescue. “Minister, we do indeed have charts of the coast of France, just not as current as I would like. It is also possible that we might not be entering in an area with pilotage available. Since your traveling companion represented himself as a fisherman, it occurred to us, Mister Baldwin and I, that he might have a familiarity with a part of the coast where we are considering making port. A little bit of local knowledge, as it were.”
“Of course. Thank you, sir. I shall – or rather, Doctor Jackson will – speak to him. I am sure he will be eager to assist you in any way he might!” The minister paused, shot a glance at his secretary seated across the table from him, and continued, shifting his gaze from Captain Allen to me and back.
“And I am sure Doctor Jackson meant no offense by his earlier remarks. You must understand we are all under somewhat of a strain, given the circumstances – the weather, cramped quarters, and the unpredictable future. He is simply concerned about my welfare and in carrying out our charge in a proper and timely manner.” Crawford smiled disarmingly, pleased, I assumed, with his diplomatic skills and his ability to restore peace to the proceedings. Jackson simply nodded his head. For my part, while I had thought of several comments that might be appropriate, I held my tongue, spooning in some melted cheese to preclude voicing any.
In Hostile Waters: The Cruise of USS Argus (Oliver Baldwin Novel Book 3) Page 9
