Fletcher's Fortune

by John Drake

  But he was broken. Just like young Lucey, he was finished in this business. All that he could do for Fletcher now would be to write to Richard Lucey saying that he, Pendennis, must be excluded from all secrets and plans. For anything that he knew could be wrested from him by the Coignwoods. Richard Lucey must carry on alone. Pendennis took some comfort from the fact that at least Lucey would be warned. At least he would know precisely how dangerous their enemy could be. And in this estimate of the threat posed by the Coignwoods, as in every other aspect of his dealings with them, Pendennis was completely wrong.

  21

  Phiandra was anchored so close to the shore that we could see all the busy life of the great seaport. With little to do and weeks of repairs ahead, the world ashore beckoned like the sirens that called to Ulysses. Some of the men, like Norris Polperro, had families they’d not seen for months and talked of nothing else than the hope of getting out of the ship. With the Captain spending so much time ashore at his politics, responsibility to prevent wholesale desertion fell on the first Lieutenant, Mr Williams, who took the usual precautions.

  As a Bosun’s mate, I had had a hand in this myself and took my turn at the oars, rowing a guard-boat full of marines slowly round the ship. Their orders were to shoot any man trying to run; and the faithful promise of a flogging for the whole boat should any one get past us.

  And so I made my first move.

  “Why can’t just some of us go ashore?” says I to the Bosun. “Those of us who can be trusted ... I wouldn’t run, you know that, Mr Shaw, and I’d vouch for my messmates as well. If you were to put it to Mr Williams, as a Christian act, he might agree. It would give some of these poor devils some hope, you see ... ”

  It was an interesting moment. I was the goose that layed golden eggs and Mr Shaw had no wish to lose me. And he was wondering what game I was playing. He knew I was cleverer than him. He leaned his head on one side and scratched at the stubble on his chin.

  “Why d’you want to go ashore then, eh?” says he. “And why d’you want to take them others?”

  It was time to play my ace. I dropped my voice.

  “Fact is, Mr Shaw, I want to have a word with some friends ashore. I think I could find us a customer for a cable ... ”

  A look of awe came over his face. Phiandra carried 100-fathom hemp cables of twelve-inch circumference and weighing a ton and a quarter apiece. He’d never dreamed of selling so massive and ponderous an item and the guineas twinkled in his mind. I could see that I’d got him but I continued without a pause. “But I need my mates along, d’you see, to make it look right. Mr Williams isn’t going to let me off the ship on my own, now, is he?”

  He smiled happily and went off to see Mr Williams who, as I’d thought, proved receptive to an idea coming from so trusted a personage as the Bosun. Next morning, my messmates and I were paraded before Mr Williams on the quarterdeck. The news was all round the ship that Sammy Bone’s mess were to be given shore leave and all the crew were there to witness the event. And they all approved. They all hoped it would be their turn next. Like the born leader he was, Mr Williams made the most of this. He singled me out at once.

  “Fletcher!” says he, and looked me straight in the eyes. I felt uncomfortable. “I am resolved that should this experiment succeed then all the other messes shall have their chance. So give me your hand, and your promise to return in twenty-four hours. I look to you as a Warrant Officer, to see that all goes well.” That was pitching it a bit high; I was only a Bosun’s mate. But it was typical of the man to make that sort of gesture. I shook his hand and promised. And so did all the others: Sammy, Norris, Thomas, Jem, and happy, stupid Johnny Basford. Then we got three cheers from the crew as we went over the side to be rowed ashore.

  Soon we were strolling along George Street in the thick of the press of people: porters, carters, servants, children, dogs, cats and gentlefolk, that was the life of Portsmouth. It was wonderful. Hawkers yelled, wheels rumbled, hoofs clattered and doors banged. It was like being drunk and we swaggered along merrily. But as we went past a grand house with big windows on the ground floor, Sammy pulled us to a halt.

  “Avast, mates,” says he. “There’s us!” He pointed to one of the windows. With the bright sunlight of the street and the dark interior of the house, the panes of glass were reflecting like a mirror. Warships do not provide mirrors for the convenience of the hands, so this was a novelty. I saw the happy faces of my mates grinning at me out of the glass. And then I was brought up sharp. Among the figures was a broad, muscular man, dominating the group. He was a seaman from head to toe: tanned skin, rolling gait, Phiandra togs. Precisely the same sort of alien creature that had so frightened me when first I was taken aboard a man o’ war ... and it was me! It was the most amazing shock to see how I was changed.

  My mates laughed and pointed at each other, and made faces at the glass, but Sammy saw what was going on in my mind.

  “Aye lad! You’re not what you was,” says he. “What’s the matter, don’t you like it?” I said nothing because I didn’t know what to say. And then we moved on and paraded round the town ’til we were fed up with looking, and we sought out a place to get drunk. In Portsmouth there were a thousand grog-shops and ale-houses catering for sailors, and I was happy to pay for my mates’ drink out of my latest business profits, so by evening we were sat round a table in the public room of a dingy establishment called the “George and Dragon”. It was full of seamen and reminded me of the “Three Dutch Skippers” in Polmouth, where I’d been pressed all those months ago.

  I decided it was time to raise a sensitive matter. I still hadn’t mentioned that I wasn’t going back to the ship, and I had an uneasy feeling about the matter. The trouble was that my mates had all promised to go back. Personally I’d have promised anything to get my freedom, but I knew them well enough to know that they might see things differently, though God knows why. They were all skilled men, who’d do far better in the merchant service than ever they would in the Navy.

  “Well, lads,” says I, finally, “here’s goodbye to the Navy as far as I’m concerned.” I raised my tankard and drained it. They didn’t understand at first and I had to make clear what I meant. They caught my drift soon enough and the looks on their faces told me that I’d guessed correctly. Every man of them intended to go back and, what’s more, they expected me to go with them.

  “We’ve got to go back!” says Sammy. “What about all the others? If any of us runs, there’ll be no shore leave for anyone else. And some of ’em’s got family in Portsmouth that they wants to go and see.” They all stared at me, frowning. It was like the first time I joined the mess. I felt an outsider again.

  “But I’m not a sailor,” says I, desperately trying to make them understand, “I was an apprentice. I never wanted this.” I turned to Norris for support. “What about you, Norris, you’ve got a family. Aren’t you coming?”

  “No,” says he, with a surly look. “My brothers’ll look to my wife and child’n, just as I’d look to their’n ... I ain’t gonna run!”

  “Why not?” says I, astonished. “You were pressed just like me. And you tried to get out of it ... you made that wound on your knee!”

  “That’s as maybe,” says Norris. “ ’Tis the way of seamen to fight the Press. But ’tis the way of things for us to be pressed in time o’ war. What about them buggerin’ Frogs, eh? Who’s to save old England from them if there ain’t no Navy? And we are the Navy; we man the ships and fight the guns ... Anyway, I promised.”

  Sammy and the others nodded in agreement. Aside from Johnny, who was an idiot and didn’t matter, they’d all volunteered into the Navy so I wasn’t surprised, but Norris’s attitude was beyond me. A mixture of patriotism and a determination to keep his promise to Lieutenant Williams, particularly the latter, and I couldn’t shift him try as I might.

  In fact I soon gave up. I knew how stubborn my mates could be and how useless it was to argue with them once their minds were set.

 
“Well, I’m going,” says I. “I was never bred for a seaman and I’ve got a life ashore to follow.”

  “Aye, lad,” says Sammy. “You’ve got all that money to make, haven’t you? I hope it keeps you warm of a night once you’ve got it. Never you mind about your promise.”

  That made me angry. What did I owe the Navy? Why should I honour a promise to a Service that had taken me against my will, and taken me illegally at that! I said as much to Sammy, lost my temper thoroughly, and walked out in a rage. It was dark outside and I blundered off not caring where I was going.

  But before I’d gone far, everything became most peculiar. Seconds after leaving the inn, I felt a sickening blow on the back of my head and the thump of the cobblestones into my face as I went down. But I wasn’t quite unconscious and was aware of someone turning me over on to my back. A hand curled round my chin and pulled back my head, baring my throat ... then there was a confused struggling of bodies and finally I was sitting up with my back to a wall with the world sizzling around me and Sammy Bone shouting at me.

  “Jacob! Jacob!” says he, peering into my face. “Get him up lads, get him inside ... ” And I was hauled to my feet and half-carried back into the “George and Dragon”. I tried to walk but my feet wouldn’t work. They sat me down at the same bench I’d just left and scraps of rag and some water appeared and Sammy was bandaging my head. I noticed Norris’s hand was being bandaged as well, then I slipped forward on to the table and the world went away into blackness.

  When I awoke, it was light and I was in the same room, which was even dirtier in the daylight. My mates gathered round grinning as I stirred, and they were joined by the landlord in his filthy apron.

  “Right!” says this beauty. “Now he’s awake you can all bugger off! I’ll have no trouble in my house.” But Sammy rounded on him and threatened bloody murder if he didn’t leave us be and deliver up the breakfast we’d already paid for. The landlord went off muttering.

  “We had to run through your pockets for the money, lad,” says Sammy, “but we needed the cash or he’d have heaved us out last night, and you weren’t fit for that.” I nodded and my head ached horribly.

  “What happened, Sammy?” says I. “Did something fall on me?” He wouldn’t answer straight away, but sent Johnny Basford off to watch the door. Then Sammy and the rest of my mates sat round me in a ring of chairs, like conspirators.

  “He’s a good boy, is Johnny,” says Sammy, “but the poor lad can’t be relied on to hold his tongue. He don’t understand, you see. But for the rest of us, Jacob, you should know by now you can trust us with anything ... ” He had a strange look on his face and I couldn’t see where he was driving.

  “What’s this, Sammy?” says I. “What’s happening?”

  “That’s just what we was wondering, my lad!” says he.

  “Aye!” says the rest.

  “We’ve been talking half the night, Jacob, putting together one or two bits and pieces, and we don’t rightly know how to make sense of it.” He settled back to tell the tale and I listened with growing amazement. “When you left here last night, you went out in such a state that Norris and I ran after you to bring you back. We thought that if you was determined to run then we couldn’t stop you, but we couldn’t part with a messmate without a kind word.” Sudden guilt struck me.

  “Sorry Sammy,” says I, “I didn’t mean to ... ”

  “Stow it!” says Sammy. “It don’t matter. Anyway, soon as we got outside we saw you going up the alley and a man running after you, quiet as a cat and moving fast.”

  “Jesus Christ! One second later and he’d have had you. He came straight up behind you and hit you on the head, and down you went. We jumped on him but Norris had to grab the knife or he’d have done you anyway.” Norris grinned and held up a bandaged hand.

  “Tryin’ to cut your throat, he was,” says Norris.

  “Aye,” says Sammy, “and he weren’t no ordinary robber neither. When we laid hold of him, he didn’t try and run like you’d expect. No! The bugger was fighting mad to get at you. He was firm fixed to kill you, Jacob! And another thing ... show him, Norris.”

  Norris held out a small shiny object. A button with the Admiralty anchor embossed upon it.

  “He had a mask on his face and a black cloak, to hide what he was,” says Norris, “but I got hold o’ this from the coat underneath.” Norris shook his head. “We nearly had him, Jacob, but he was wriggling like a greasy pig and trying to stab us. And then when he saw it was no good, he ran off in the dark ... but I got this.”

  I stared at the button in disbelief. It was from the uniform coat of a British Naval Officer.

  “Aye,” says Sammy, “and remember that jab in the back you got from a splintered spar? Well I wonder if it was a spar and not a knife? In that case it’s an officer on our own ship that’s after you, which is likely the case, ’cos why should he go after a strange matelot he’s never seen before? But, then ... why should an officer try and murder you? There’s plenty of officers as takes against a man for no good reason, but they don’t shove a knife in him, do they? Not when there’s a thousand legal ways to get the poor sod. And there’s more ... Go on, Norris.” Norris looked glum and needed some urging from Sammy but finally he came out with something truly dreadful.

  “Jacob,” says he, “I want you to know that in the reg’lar way o’ things I’d have kept silent to the grave, d’you see?” He looked anxious, so I nodded and he continued.

  “When we was on that tender, the Bullfrog ... ” At this, I guessed what was coming and went cold with horror. “ ... one morning, I was sent on deck with two others, Oakes and Pegg their names was, to help work the ship. And we was by the foremast and we saw the Bosun go after you ... and we saw ... we saw what you done ... ” His voice faded and I blinked at them. I was found out as a murderer. How would they react?

  “Tell him all of it, Norris ... go on!” says Sammy, nudging him.

  “Well, I thought, good riddance to him!” says Norris. “I seen what he was doin’ to you. And he’d already given me the hell of a logging’, and anyway, what sort of a seaman is going to betray a shipmate, I ask you? So me and the other two kept quiet and later on they was sent into other ships. I dunno where they are now.”

  “And? And?” says Sammy.

  “And, a couple o’ days before that, I seen that Lieutenant Salisbury, him as was in command o’ the Bullfrog, I seen him point you out to the Bosun, deliberate like, and they was talkin’ about you, an’ I heard a little bit. The Lieutenant said: ‘He’s the one: I have my reasons’. That’s what he said and the old Bosun, he started pickin’ on you right after that.” Norris shuffled awkwardly as he finished his story and looked to Sammy for approval. Sammy nodded and Norris relaxed.

  “And there’s one more bit,” says Sammy. “Seems we’ve got an officer aboard who’s not behaving like a gentleman should, right? Well, that blondie I had when the girls was in the ship, she said some of the girls was nervous of coming out to Phiandra ’cos they’d heard one of our officers is a wrong ’un. He likes doing funny things: things the girls won’t do, even in the line of business. Now, Portsmouth tarts ain’t particular, so God knows what’s behind that! But she didn’t know who it was and I took no heed at the time. I’d other things on my mind.”

  He finished his tale and they all stared at me, expectantly.

  “Well,” says Sammy, “the way I see it, Jacob, some Officer’s out to kill you privately. And in all my years I never heard the like where common seamen was concerned, but then we always knew you as a gentleman, from the way you talk. But if you’re a gentleman, then what you doing here? Gentlemen don’t get pressed! Now, we’re your mates, come what may, d’you see? But it’s time you was straight with us, my lad.” He paused and looked at me hard. “So just what are you Jacob?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I certainly didn’t know what was going on. The main thought in my mind was a great relief that my mates didn’t think I was a murderer. And
I was stupid enough to be flattered that they thought I was a gentleman. Well, I had the manner, didn’t I?

  So I told them all I knew. I talked and talked and it all came out. They got the whole story of my life and they listened quietly, with Sammy asking a question now and then. I stopped when the landlord came in with our breakfast and carried on when he went out, and I saw Johnny grinning at me from the doorway. It was near midday when I was done.

  As I told the story things fell into place and I realised I’d been singled out from the first and someone had been pulling strings like a puppet master to get me into Phiandra. Lieutenant Spencer of the Polmouth press-gang, Lieutenant Salisbury and Bosun Dixon of Bullfrog, and the Midshipman aboard the slop-ship that sent me to Phiandra must all have been involved. But who was pulling the strings?

  “I reckon it’s him in our ship,” says Sammy. “It was all planned to get you close to him. And now he’s come after you himself, ain’t he? The others did their part but there weren’t nothing personal in it. This one really hates you.”

  “But why, Sammy?” says I. “I’ve got no enemies.”

  “Dunno,” says Sammy, “P’raps it’s in the past. You don’t know who your ma and pa was, do you? But never mind that. What worries me, is finding out who your little friend is!”

  He pointed to the coat button on the table. “There’s six of ’em aboard with them buttons on their coats: the Cap’n, the three Lieutenants, the Master and his mate. Which one is it?”

  22

  You disgust me. I’m done with you at last. I’ve excused too much for your mother’s sake and now I am sick at heart for what I have closed my eyes to.

  (Letter of 10th June 1793 to Alexander Coignwood aboard Phiandra from Admiral Williams.)

  *

  Ivor, Lord Williams of Barbados, Knight of the Bath, Admiral of the White, sat in an armchair in the library of his London house and glared attentively at the creature standing before him. The Admiral was only sixty, but thanks to a hard life he was sickly and retired from the sea. Also, the concussion of heavy guns had left its effect on him and it seemed to him, these days, that people didn’t speak out bold and clear the way they used to. Indeed it was hard to tell what they were saying unless you paid close attention to their faces, particularly the lips. He’d also noticed that it helped if you cocked your head on one side and cupped a hand behind your ear. It was just as well that his eyes were still sharp.