Book 12 - The Letter of Marque

by Patrick O'Brian

  'You would never doubt William Babbington's good will, for all love?'

  'No,' said Jack. And after a pause, 'No. But the position is not what it was when he was my direct subordinate.'

  In the silence Stephen heard the cry from the bows 'Up and down, sir,' and the much louder response from the capstan, 'Thick and dry for weighing.'

  Shorly after this Tom Pullings appeared with a smiling face and reported that the ship was unmoored, that the launch and both cutters were out ahead with a tow-line, and that there was the appearance of a westerly breeze in the offing.

  'Very well,' said Jack. 'Carry on, if you please, Mr Pullings.' And then hesitantly, with a hesitant smile, 'Fair—fair stands the wind for France.'

  Chapter Six

  On the misty night of Thursday the Surprise kept a lookout aloft, and now from the foretopsail yard he called 'On deck, there. I think I see 'em.'

  'Where away?' asked Jack.

  'One point on the starboard bow. Not above two or three mile.'

  The ship was under all plain sail, with what inconstant breeze there was mainly two points on her quarter; there was little to be seen ahead from the tops, therefore, so Jack, slinging his night-glass, climbed the taut, dew-damp shrouds to the main crosstrees. He gazed for some time, but nothing did he see until the haze parted and there, much closer than he had expected, lay a line of four ships, exactly spaced, close-hauled on the larboard tack: quite certainly the St Martin's squadron. On this warm night and in this calm sea most of their gun-ports were open and the light streamed out: he counted the ports, and he had time to see that the third ship in the line was the eighteen-gun Tartarus before the mist so blurred them that they were four yellow bars, dwindling until they vanished altogether. When they reappeared all the foremost ports were dark, eight bells having sounded, and aboard the Tartarus nothing was to be seen but a bright scuttle or two, a cabin port and the stern lantern. Eight bells struck on the Surprise's battered old bell; he heard the bosun's mate piping lights out down the hatchway; and he reached the deck as the watch was being mustered.

  'Someone has been flogging the glass in Tartarus,' he said to Pullings, having given the course. 'They are a good two or three minutes before us.' And as he walked into the cabin, 'Lord, Stephen, I am so very deeply relieved. The squadron is hull-up in the north-east, and we shall speak them within the hour.'

  'I am so glad that your uneasiness is removed,' said Stephen, looking up from the score he was correcting. 'Now perhaps you will sit down and eat your supper in peace: unless indeed you choose to wait and invite William Babbington and Fanny Wray. Adi has a superb bouillabaisse prepared, and there will be enough for four, or even six.'

  'No. The council of war must certainly take place aboard the Tartarus.'

  'Very true. And in any case some food now would help to calm your spirits. You were in a sad taking, brother; I have rarely known you so impatient.'

  'Why,' said Jack smiling as he let himself down in his chair, 'I believe any commander would have found today quite trying.' He thought of attempting to make Stephen understand some of the difficulties the Surprise had had to contend with—lack of wind for much of the day and strong contrary currents. The spring-tides were near at hand, and in these waters the floods set strongly against her, so that although she seemed to be towing at a fair rate, with all the boats out ahead and the men pulling like heroes, her movement was forward only in relation to the surface, while the whole body of the sea, with the ship and the boats upon it, was in fact gliding backwards in relation to the unseen land for hours on end; while beneath all, like a ground-swell in Jack's mind, was the dread that the Diane, aware of the blockading squadron's true weakness, might have sailed some days ago. Then there was the descending cloud and drizzle—no noon observation, no sight of the coast to check a position that must be exact for the night-meeting, nothing but a dead-reckoning horribly complicated by currents and very frequent changes of course to take advantage of the light and variable airs. In addition to this there was no real certainty about Babbington's course that night: if the Surprise missed the squadron she would have to look for them inshore the next morning, off St Martin's, in sight of every French sailor, soldier or civilian possessed of a telescope, thus losing what seemed to him the very great and even perhaps decisive element of surprise. But these were regions into which Stephen could not follow him: no one without a nautical education could understand the refinements of frustration he had had to strive against; no one without an intimate knowledge of the sea could understand the infinity of things that could go wrong in so simple a voyage as this or the infinite importance of getting them all right—not that in the present case getting them right and joining the squadron offshore was in itself success, but it was a necessary condition for success; and the relief of having reached at least that stage was something that only another man with so much at stake could fully comprehend.

  But he was sorry he had let his impatience—his almost choking fury on occasion—be seen, and now, reaching for the decanter of madeira, he said, 'I tell you what, Stephen: let us eat up our bouillabaisse when we have had a whet, and then, until we hail the Tartarus, we might play your piece.'

  'Very well,' said Maturin, a simple pleasure showing on his usually by no means simple face. 'Killick, ahoy. Aho. Let the feast appear as soon as Adi can fry his croûtons.'

  The piece, Stephen's own variations on a theme by Haydn, was correct and fluent but it was not particularly interesting until the last sheet, where Stephen and Haydn came together in a curious hesitant phrase whose two beats of silence were singularly moving. The violin played it first, and while the 'cello was answering they heard the hail from no great way off: 'The ship, ahoy. What ship is that?' and the full-voiced reply just overhead 'Surprise'.

  The 'cello made its pause, completed the phrase, and the two combined to work it towards the full close. The door opened and Pullings stood there with the news: Jack nodded, and they played on to the deeply satisfying end.

  'Tartarus is just to windward, sir,' said Pullings, when they put down their bows.

  'I am most uncommon glad to hear it,' said Jack. 'Pray let the Doctor's skiff be lowered down—Stephen, you will lend me your skiff?—and Bonden will pull me over. Killick, my good blue coat.' He took his chart of St Martin's from the locker and said in an undertone, 'Stephen, should not you come too?'

  'I believe not,' said Stephen. 'I must not advertise the tenuous connection I have with intelligence; whatever details there may be to be settled in that line, we can arrange between ourselves. But I should like to accompany the attack on this occasion, if it is agreed to be made.'

  'Welcome aboard again, sir!' cried Babbington. 'Doubly welcome, since I did not look to see you this tide.'

  'You very nearly did not, neither,' said Jack Aubrey. 'A needle in a haystack would not bear the comparison, on such a thick night; but a stitch in time saves nine, as you know very well, and we set out betimes. Shall we go below?'

  In Babbington's little cabin he looked quickly round for signs of Fanny Wray but saw nothing except a piece of sailcloth with the words Heaven Preserve our Tars in rather shaky cross-stitch. 'So you were expecting me?' he said.

  'Yes, sir. A cutter brought me word from the Admiral that it was possible, wind and weather permitting, that you might appear on the thirteenth and I was to cooperate with you in any operation you might contemplate against the Diane, at present lying in St Martin's.'

  'She is still lying there, ain't she? She has not sailed?'

  'Oh no, sir. She is lying there against the quay, moored to bollards head and stern. She does not mean to sail till the dark of the moon, the thirteenth.'

  'You are sure of that, William? Of her lying there, I mean.'

  'Oh yes, sir. When we stand inshore of a morning I often go aloft and look at her. She has had her yards crossed this week and more. And as for the thirteenth—why, we never interfere with the fishing-boats, and there are some that bring us crabs and lobsters a
nd capital soles, coming to the blind side at dusk, before we stand off for the night. They know very well what the poor old Dolphin is worth, for all her fresh putty and paint and gingerbread-work, and just how the Camel transport and the Vulture slop-ship are armed, and they beg us to keep well out in the offing on the thirteenth, and to take no notice, because the Diane is new and fast and has scantlings like a forty-gun ship—carries heavy metal—would sink any one of us with a single broadside—crew admirably well trained with both great guns and small-arms—her tops full of riflemen like those in the Redoutable who killed Lord Nelson. And in any event a heavy corvette is going to wait for her off the cape and see her well clear of soundings in case she should run into Euryalus, due to come up from Gib about the middle of the month. They may exaggerate our fate a little, but I think they speak in real kindness. They were very fond of Fanny, who did most of the talking in French—a splendid accent, very like that of Paris, I am told.'

  'Shall I have the pleasure of seeing her this evening?'

  'Oh no, sir. I packed her off by the cutter. I really could not in conscience carry her into action, could I, sir? I remember clearly, though it was at least an age ago, when we were in the Sophie, that the Doctor told me there was nothing worse for the female frame than gunfire. I am so sorry he did not come across.'

  'He thought he might be out of place in a council of war.'

  'I should have liked to tell you both my good news. But perhaps you would be so kind as to tell him from me.'

  'I should be very happy to do so, if you will let me know what it is.'

  'Well, sir—I am ashamed to mention it before far more important things, but the fact of the matter is, I am to be made post.' He laughed from pure happiness, adding 'With seniority from the first of next month.'

  Jack sprang to his feet—a lifetime at sea shielded his head even now from the low beams above it—and grasped Babbington's hand. 'Give you joy with all my heart, William,' he cried. 'I have heard nothing that has given me so much pleasure this many and many a day. May we not drink a glass to your coming flag?'

  As they drank it Babbington said 'I know very well it is mostly parliamentary interest—did you see they made my uncle Gardner a peer last week? Lord, the Ministry must be hard up—yet even so it makes me wonderfully happy. It makes dear Fanny very happy too.'

  'I am sure it does. But do not carry on at that rate about interest. You are a far better seaman and a far better officer than at least half the men on the list.'

  'You are too kind, sir, too kind altogether. But I am not to be prating of my own affairs for ever. May I ask you, sir, whether you do contemplate any action against the Diane, and if so how I may best cooperate with you?'

  'Yes, I certainly do contemplate an action—have been contemplating it pretty hard for some time. I will tell you the main lines of my plan: and I can speak without any kind of reserve, now you are to be made post. Yet even so, I will say this, William: you are the senior King's officer in this squadron, and if there is anything in my scheme you do not like for your ships or your men, tell me plain. We can settle it between us before the full council.'

  'Very well, sir. But it would be strange indeed if we did not agree.'

  Jack looked at him affectionately. What Babbington said was true: but it was even more wholly true now that he was sure of promotion. 'Well now,' he began, 'my idea is to cut her out: all the more so now that you have told me about the corvette that is to meet her off the cape.' He spread out his chart. 'If you have an intelligent master in the squadron, William, get him to check these soundings: they are the only things likely to have changed. Now we anchor the Surprise here'—pointing to the south side of Cape Bowhead—'with a spring on her cable; and if we can place her just right—when we come to details, you must tell me the exact set of the tides inshore on the twelfth—'

  'The twelfth, sir?'

  'Yes. I hope that the night before they sail most of the officers will be bowsing up their jibs ashore, which will prevent their being knocked on the head or encouraging their men to any wild extreme.'

  'Brilliant,' said Babbington, who could conceive of no man spending the night before sailing as far as Margate in any other manner.

  'If we can place her just right, then, this rise in the land protects her from the fort covering the isthmus. We drop anchor at say three-quarters flood. The boats pull off round the cape. They may be challenged at the breakwater. They will probably pass, but if they do not and we hear a musket, we start bombarding the isthmus: or rather Tom Pullings does, since I mean to lead the boarding-party myself. He does so in any case if I and the boats send up a blue light, meaning we are about to board. He blazes away like smoke and oakum, which will divert the enemy's attention—it was the isthmus that we invaded before—and give the boats time to cut the Diane out, sail her clear of the batteries at the bottom of the bay if the breeze is fair or tow her if it is not. Indeed, tow her in any event, for this sort of thing must be done quick. By that time the tide should be just on the ebb, which will be a great help. What I should like your squadron to do is to bring the ships in close in case of an emergency and to provide four boats to help in the towing.'

  'Mayn't we board too?'

  'No, William; at least not in the first assault. The Surprises have been going through all the motions of boarding a frigate twice a night since what seems the beginning of time; they know exactly what to do—each man has his own task—and the presence of other people would only distract them. But of course if the Dianes prove uncommon awkward, we can always sing out for help.'

  Babbington considered for some moments, looking at his former captain now and then. 'Well, sir,' he said, 'it seems a capital plan to me, and I certainly cannot suggest any improvements. Should you like me to signal for all captains now?'

  'If you please, William. And there is a point I had almost forgot: when you stand in tomorrow, I shall stand farther out. Then tomorrow evening you make a particular point of moving out into the offing very well lit up: when you are far out I shall slip past you without a glim, taking your boats in tow as I pass. I need hardly say that if any of your lobster-boats hears of Surprise being here, we might as well go home, rather than creep in under courses with the hope of finding the Diane unprepared.'

  'I shall look after that, sir.'

  'But discreetly, William, discreetly. Do not treat them unfriendly or wave them away, or they will smoke there is something amiss.'

  'I shall chatter with them myself, and allow no one else to speak.' He went on deck to give orders for the signal and when he came back Jack said 'I remember the Doctor talking about women and gunfire: it was off Cape Creus in the last war, when we took a French sloop loaded with powder. The master had taken his wife with him and she was having a baby—the Doctor delivered it. Dear me, those were happy days. The Admiral gave us cruise after cruise.'

  'And we took prize after prize. Oh, it was glorious. And then there was the Cacafuego! Do you remember how we starbowlins blacked our faces in the galley and boarded her screeching like boiled cats? Mowett wrote a poem about it.'

  They were still talking eagerly about the last war when the first of the boats came alongside, followed almost immediately by the others.

  'Sir,' said Babbington, after the sounds of proper reception, the midshipman's announcement, and the procession on the ladder, 'Sir, allow me to name Captain Griffiths of the Dolphin, Mr Leigh, captain of the Camel, and Mr Strype of the Vulture.'

  'Good evening, gentlemen,' said Jack, looking at them attentively: Griffiths was a small, bright-eyed, round-headed very young commander newly appointed to a very old sloop that should not have been at sea at all; Leigh, a tall, elderly, one-armed lieutenant without the least hope of promotion who was happier in the command of a transport than living ashore with a large family on less than a hundred pounds a year; Strype, of the Vulture slop-ship, was so silent and pale as to be almost non-existent—it was strange to see him wearing the King's uniform.

  'Now, ge
ntlemen,' said Babbington, and Jack was astonished at the unassuming natural authority with which he spoke—astonished, because their conversation had so vividly brought back the little boy of the midshipmen's berth in the Sophie, who still had to be told to blow his nose—'I have orders to cooperate with Mr Aubrey of the Surprise in an operation he intends to carry out against the Diane. I will beg him to give an outline of his plan for your information, but first I must observe, that he and I are in entire agreement as to the general strategy. You will therefore be so good as to listen without comment until he asks for your observations, which will bear only upon such points as currents, soundings or the enemy's dispositions on which you may have particular information. Mr Aubrey, sir, allow me to bring the lamp a little nearer.'

  Jack described his plan once more, pointing to the various positions on the chart as he did so and ending 'If any officer has questions to ask or observations to make, I should be glad to hear them.'

  There was a long silence, broken only by the lapping of the sea against the Tartarus's side, until the grizzled lieutenant stood up and placing his hook on the breakwater said 'The only observation I have to make is that at flood and slack water there is a current that sets up against the rampart here. Time and again I have seen smallcraft fend off from the wall or absolutely graze it as they turn into the harbour. You might think that worth bearing in mind for the boats, sir, if they wish to pass unseen.'

  'Thank you, sir,' said Jack. 'That is a most valuable point. Captain Griffiths, did you wish to speak?'

  'Only to say that with Captain Babbington's permission I should be happy to lead the squadron's boats, sir.'

  Babbington instantly said 'Mr Aubrey and I are agreed that the captains should remain with their commands. The squadron will stand in shortly after the operation begins, and there may be important decisions to make in the event of—if all don't go well.'