The Hundred Days

by Patrick O'Brian

  'Oh, just plain Lord, I think. The other thing is formal court usage, to be sure, and I know that dear Nelson loved it; but I think it has died out among ordinary people. Anyway he does not give a hoot for such things, you know. He values his flag extremely, of course, and I dare say he would like the Garter; but the Keiths of Elphinstone go back to the night of time—they are earl marischals of Scotland, and would not call Moses cousin.'

  They sat smiling at one another. An odd pair: handsome creatures both, but they might have been of the same sex or neither. Nor was it a brother and sister connection, with all the possibilities of jealousy and competition so often found therein, but a steady uncomplicated friendship and a pleasure in one another's company. Certainly, when Jack was scarcely breeched and Queenie took care of him after his mother's death, she had been somewhat authoritarian, insisting on due modesty and decent eating; but that was long ago, and for a great while now they had been perfectly well together.

  A cloud passed over her face, and putting her hand on Jack's knee she said, 'I was so happy to see you—to have recovered you from Cape Horn at the very last moment—that I overlooked more important things. Tell me, how is poor dear Maturin?'

  'He looks older, and bent; but he bears up wonderfully, and it has not done away with his love of music. He eats nothing, though, and when he came back to Funchal, having attended to everything at Woolcombe, I lifted him out of the boat with one hand.'

  'She was an extraordinarily handsome woman and she had prodigious style: I admired her exceedingly. But she was not a wife for him; nor a mother for that dear little girl. How is she? She was not in the coach, I collect?'

  'No. The only other one on the box was Cholmondeley; my mother-in-law and her companion inside, and Harry Willet, the groom, up behind—happily Padeen did not go that day. And Brigid does not seem very gravely upset, from what I understand. She is very deeply attached to Sophie, you know, and to Mrs Oakes.'

  'I do not believe I know Mrs Oakes.'

  'A sea-officer's widow who lives with us, a learned lady—not as learned as you, Queenie, I am sure—but she teaches the children Latin and French. They are none of them clever enough for Greek.'

  A pause. 'If he does not eat, he will certainly grow weak and pine away,' said Lady Keith. 'We have a famous cook aboard Royal Sovereign—he came back to England with the Bourbons. Would an invitation be acceptable, do you think? Just us and the Physician of the Fleet and a few very old friends. I have a crux in this passage of Ennius I should like to show him. And of course he must have a conference with Keith's secretary and the political adviser very soon . . . Oh, and Jack, there is something I must tell you, just between ourselves. Another Mediterranean command would be too much for him, so we are only here until Pellew comes out; though we shall stay in the Governor's cottage a little while to enjoy the spring. Do you get along well with Pellew, Jackie?'

  'I have a great admiration for him,' said Jack—and indeed Admiral Sir Edward Pellew had been a remarkably dashing and successful frigate-captain—'but not quite the veneration I have for Lord Keith.'

  'My dear Aubrey,' cried the Admiral, walking in from the coach, 'there you are! How glad I am to see you.'

  'And I to see you, my Lord Viscount, if I may so express myself. My heartiest congratulations.'

  'Thankee, thankee, Aubrey,' said the Admiral, more pleasant than quite suited his wife. 'But I must say that I deserve to be degraded for having put in that foolish proviso in your orders about waiting for Briseis. I should have said . . . but never mind what I should have said. The fact is that at that time I merely wanted your squadron to guard the passage of the Straits: now, at the present moment, the situation is much more complex. Six hundred thousand people cheered Napoleon when he entered Paris—Ney has joined him—a hundred and fifty thousand King's troops, well-equipped, drilled and officered, have done the same—he has countless seasoned men who were prisoners of war in England and Russia and all over Europe at his devotion, flooding to the colours—the Emperor's colours. There is the Devil to pay and no tar hot. Is Dr Maturin with you?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'Is he up to talking about all this with my secretary and the politicos?'

  'I believe so, my Lord. Although he shuns ordinary company he is dead set on the war and seizes upon any means whatsoever of informing himself—newspapers, correspondence and so on—and I have known him talk for three hours on end with a French officer—royalist of course—whose brig was in company with us during a flat calm off Bugio.'

  'He would sooner not dine aboard Royal Sovereign, I gather.'

  'I believe not, sir. But he will discuss the international situation and the means of bringing Napoleon down with the utmost vigour. That is what keeps him alive, it seems to me.'

  'I am glad he has so great a resource at such a dreadful time, poor dear man. I have a great regard for him: as you will remember, I proposed he should be Physician of the Fleet at one time. Aye, aye, so I did. Well, I shall not pain him with an invitation he might find difficult to refuse. But if, in the course of duty, you could require him to report aboard just after the evening gun, when I hope for an overland packet by courier, he may learn still more about the international situation. A damned complex situation, upon my word. As I said, when first I sent for you I thought your squadron would be enough, at a pinch, to guard the passage of the Straits—at a pinch, for you see how pitifully little we have here. But now, now, you will have to cut yourself in three to do half the things I want you to do. Heugh, heugh, a damned complex situation as the Doctor will learn when he comes here: he will be finely amazed. I will give you the broadest view just for the now . . .'

  Lady Keith gathered up her belongings and said, 'My dear, I will leave you to it. But do not tire yourself: you have a meeting with Gonzalez this evening. I will send Geordie with a dish of tea directly.'

  The broadest view, stripped of the Admiral's great authority and of his distinctive northern accent, generally pleasing to an English ear though sometimes impenetrably obscure, was very roughly this: Wellington, with ninety three thousand British and Dutch troops, and Blücher, with a hundred and sixteen thousand Prussians, were in the Low Countries, waiting until Schwarzenberg, with two hundred and ten thousand Austrians, and Barclay de Tolly, slowly advancing with a hundred and fifty thousand Russians, should reach the Rhine, when in principle the Allies were to invade France. For his part Napoleon had about three hundred and sixty thousand men: they were made up of five corps along the northern frontier, the Imperial Guard in Paris, and some thirty thousand more stationed on the south-east frontier and in the Vendée.

  Both men made their additions: both made their allowances for unity of command, the great value of a common language, and the stimulus of fighting on one's own soil under the orders of a man who had battered Prussians, Austrians and Russians again and again, fighting with extraordinary tactical skill against odds far greater than these.

  Jack could not with propriety ask about the zeal or even the good faith of the Austrians and Prussians at this juncture, still less about the efficiency of their mobilization and equipment; but the Admiral's worn, anxious face told him a great deal. 'Still,' said Lord Keith, 'this is all the soldiers' business: we have our own concern to deal with. How I wish Geordie would come along with that tea—why, Geordie, put the tray down here, ye thrawn, ill-feckit gaberlunzie.' A pause. 'How I value a cup of tea,' he said. 'May I pour you another?'

  'Thank you, sir,' said Jack, shaking his head. 'I have done admirably well already.'

  The Admiral reflected, carefully put more hot water to the teapot, and went on, 'In the first place there is the difficulty about the French Navy, their attitude varies from port to port, ship to ship. They are of course extremely susceptible and any untoward incident—so easily brought about—might have disastrous results. But far worse is this building of French men-of-war in the obscure Adriatic ports: obscure, but filled with prime timber and capital shipwrights—country you know very well. This co
ntinued building, more or less disguised, is a great evil; and all the greater as Bonapartist officers and men are said to be standing by to take them over.'

  'But payment, sir? Even a corvette costs a very great deal of money, and there is talk of frigates, even of two or three heavy frigates.'

  'Aye. There is something very odd about it all. Our intelligence people see a Muslim influence, possibly Turkish, possibly the Barbary states, or even of all of them combined. At this very moment there is much greater activity in Algiers, Tunis and down the Moroccan coast, fomented by Napoleonic renegadoes with native craft and vessels up to the size of a sloop of war: it is almost impossible to deal with it, our naval strength being so reduced and so tied up. Already it is most harmful to Allied trade, particularly to ours, and it is likely to grow worse.'

  The Admiral stirred his tea, contemplated, and said, 'If Napoleon Bonaparte with his three hundred thousand very well trained men and his usual brilliant cavalry and artillery, can knock out say the Russians or part of the Austrians, the French navy may sweep us out of the Mediterranean again, above all as the Maltese and the Moroccans are so ungrateful as to hate us and as there is a real possibility of a French alliance with Tunis, Algeria and the other piratical states, to say nothing of the Emperor of Morocco and even the Sultan himself. For you know, Aubrey, do you not, that Bonaparte turned Turk? During the Egyptian campaign I think it was; but Turk in any case.'

  'I heard of it, sir, of course; but no one has ever asserted that he recoiled from swine's flesh or a bottle of wine. I put it down to one of those foolish things a man says when he wishes to be elected to Parliament, such as "give me your votes, and I undertake to do away with the National Debt in eighteen months." I do not believe he is any more a Mussulman than I am. You have to be circumcised to be a Turk.'

  'For my own part I have no knowledge of the gentleman's soul, or heart, or private parts: all I am sure of is that the statement was made, and that at this juncture it may be of capital importance. But we are prating away like a couple of old women . . .' He was interrupted by his secretary, who said, 'I beg pardon, my Lord, but the courier is just come aboard with his budget.'

  Jack had started to his feet, and now he said, 'May I wait upon you later, sir, when you are less engaged?'

  'Is there anything urgent, Mr Campbell?' asked Lord Keith, with a temporizing wave.

  'Tedious and toilsome, rather than immediate, apart from one enclosure that I have already sent on.'

  'Very good, very good. Thank you, Mr Campbell. Sit down, Aubrey. I will just run through the heads of these, then attend to your statements of the squadron's condition, and give you some notion of what I should like you to do.' A pause, during which the Admiral's long-practised hand ran through the dockets, already marked with Campbell's secret mark of importance: none rated above c3, and putting them down he said, 'Well, Aubrey, in the first place you must allot a force adequate for the protection of the Constantinople trade. Convoys have been re-introduced, you know one is due within the week—and the Algerians in particular have grown very bold, though some vessels are also to be expected from Tripoli, Tunis and the rest, while other corsairs push up from Sallee and pass the Straits in the dark of the moon. Then you must prevent any unauthorized outward or inward movement to the best of your ability. But your most important task by far is to look into those Adriatic ports you know so well. Even the small places are capable of building a frigate, and we have reports of actual ships of the line on the stocks in four places whose names Campbell will give you. If any of the two-deckers have openly declared for Napoleon you must not venture upon an action but send to me without the loss of a moment. Where frigates, corvettes or sloops are concerned, particularly if they are unfinished, you must endeavour to stop the building and obtain their disarmament, all of which requires the utmost degree of tact: I am so glad you have Maturin with you. An incident would, as I have said, be disastrous: though of course if there is a clearly-expressed intent of joining Bonaparte, you must burn, sink or destroy as usual.'

  'Aye-aye, sir,' said Jack, and then, 'My Lord, I believe you spoke of a courier. If he is not already gone, may I beg for my tender Ringle to be sent out immediately? William Reade, master's mate, handles her very well indeed—an uncommon fast and weatherly Chesapeake clipper—and I shall have the utmost need for such a craft.'

  'William Reade, the young gentleman that lost an arm with you in the East Indies?' asked the Admiral, scribbling a note. 'Certainly. Should you like to send him a message—things to be brought out? Or Maturin? Well, I think that is the essential: you will of course receive detailed orders and some estimate of what you can expect from Malta when you are in Mahon.' The Admiral stood up. 'I hope you will dine with us tomorrow?' Jack bowed, said, 'Very happy,' and Keith went on, 'I do not wish to be importunate, but if you feel you could convey some sense of our feeling—our concern—our sympathy—to Maturin, pray do so. In any case, I look forward to learning his views on the situation this evening, when he will have been closeted with Campbell and the two gentlemen who came down from Whitehall. Do not ask him to come aboard the flag: they will go to see him in Pomone.'

  A little before the evening gun Preserved Killick, Captain Aubrey's steward, an ill-faced, ill-tempered, meagre, atrabilious, shrewish man who kept his officer's uniform, equipment and silver in a state of exact, old-maidish order come wind or high water, and who did the same for Aubrey's close friend and companion, Dr Stephen Maturin, or even more so, since in the Doctor's case Killick added a fretful nursemaid quality to his service, as though Maturin were "not quite exactly" a fully intelligent being, approached Stephen's cabin. It is true that in the community of mariners the "not quite exactly" opinion was widely held; for although Stephen could now tell the difference between starboard and larboard, it still called for some reflection: and it marked the limit of his powers. This general view, however, in no way affected their deep respect for him as a medical man: his work with a trephine or a saw, sometimes carried out on open deck for the sake of the light, excited universal admiration, and it was said that if he chose, and if the tide were still making, he could save you although you were already three parts dead and mouldy. Furthermore, a small half of one of his boluses would blow the backside off a bullock. The placebo effect of this reputation had indeed preserved many a sadly shattered sailor, and he was much caressed aboard. A little before the evening gun, therefore, Preserved Killick walked into Stephen's cabin and found him sitting there in his drawers, a jug of now cold water and an unused razor in front of him, together with a clean shirt, neck-cloth, new-brushed black coat, new-curled wig, clean breeches, silk stockings and a respectable handkerchief, reading the close-written coded message from Sir Joseph Blaine, the chief of naval intelligence that had just arrived by courier.

  'Oh sir,' cried Killick: but even as he exclaimed he choked the inborn shrew, lowering the 'sir' to the gentlest tones of remonstrance.

  'One moment, Killick,' said Stephen, resolving a particularly intractable group: he wrote it in the margin, covered it close, and said, 'I am yours.'

  Apart from the words 'Which the gentlemen have been waiting ten minutes—called twice for wine, and was you quite well?' Killick dressed him silently, efficiently, and led him to the captain's cabin, where the Admiral's secretary and the two gentlemen from Whitehall rose to greet him. One of them, Mr William Kent, was a familiar figure, his high office sometimes required him to resolve difficulties between the various departments of government and the services so that confidential work might be carried on in official silence: the other, Mr Dee, he knew only from having seen him at a few restricted conferences at which he spoke rarely or not at all, though he was treated with deference as an authority on eastern matters, particularly those concerned with finance—he was connected with some of the great banking-houses in the City. Sir Joseph's coded message had only said 'You will of course remember his book on Persian literature'.

  Stephen did indeed remember it: he had had his own ba
ttered second-hand copy rebound—a first edition—and he recalled that the binder had put the date of publication at the bottom of the spine: 1764.

  As they all sat down again, Stephen, with his back to the light, looked at Mr Dee with discreet curiosity, as at one whose work had enriched his youth: Mr Dee's face, alas, showed little but discontent and weariness. He did not see fit to open the conversation, so after a hesitant glance or so William Kent it was who addressed himself to Stephen, saying, 'Well, sir, since you have been windbound for so long—quite out of touch—perhaps it would not be improper to give a brief sketch of the present situation?'

  Stephen bowed, and leant towards him. Kent's summary was essentially the same as Lord Keith's; but Stephen, being unaffected by considerations of rank, tact, ignorance or particular respect, had no hesitation in asking questions, and he learned that the Netherlanders were by no means happy about the presence of Wellington's and Blücher's armies; that the various rulers, commanders, and war offices were indeed at odds upon a very wide variety of subjects; that secrecy about plans, orders and appointed meetings scarcely existed in the Austrian army, with its many nationalities, rivalries and languages; and that as opposed to the effervescent sense of returning glory in France, there was a total lack of enthusiasm in many of the Allied regiments, and something worse, not far from mutiny, among the Russians, particularly the units from the wreck of divided Poland. Barclay de Tolly was doing all that a good soldier could do with his ill-equipped and discontented forces, but he could not make them move fast and they were already sixteen days behind the agreed timetable. They had an immense distance still to travel, and the rearguard had not yet even left its distant barracks. There was also mutual distrust, a fear of betrayal on the part of other members of the coalition or on that of some one or another of the many subject nations that made up the eastern powers.

  Mr Dee coughed, and leaning forward he spoke for the first time, reminding Kent of an ancient Persian war in which a more numerous army made up of different nations had behaved in much the same way, being utterly shattered by the united Persian force on the banks of the Tigris: his account went on and on but as his voice was weak Stephen could not follow at all well—he was ill-placed for listening—and gradually he sank deeper and deeper into his own reflections, all necessarily of a kind as painful as could well be imagined. From time to time he was half aware that Mr Campbell was trying to lead them back to the matter in hand by mentioning Carebago, Spalato, Ragusa and other ports on the Adriatic shore—if once the French were out they would represent a great danger—few sea-officers reliable, if any . . .