The Thirteen Gun Salute

by Patrick O'Brian

  Sir Joseph and Stephen came up the steps together and Sir Joseph said, 'May I give you joy of your Gazette, or has the tide already risen higher than you can bear?'

  'You are very good, Sir Joseph: many, many thanks. No, the tide cannot rise too high for me; I find I have a splendid appetite for the kindness of those I respect.'

  They went upstairs and sat at a window in the Long Room, drinking sherry and watching the crowded street. 'I am just come from Westminster,' observed Jack, 'and do you know it took me nearly half an hour, there was such a press.'

  'Was there anything afoot in the House?' asked Blaine.

  'Oh no. It was just a string of private members' bills: very few people. I only went to see Dacres take his seat. So few people it was only just legal, and poor fellow he was in a sad bate, since he has to post away to Plymouth this evening. Yet even so three members asked me whether I would take sons or nephews as midshipmen. And when I go tomorrow I dare say the same thing will happen. It is astonishing how eager people are to get rid of their boys. Though perhaps not really so very astonishing, when you consider.'

  'What did you reply?'

  'I said I should be very happy, so long as the boy was thirteen or fourteen and had been at a mathematical school for at least a year; and provided he already knew enough about the sea to be some use. A new command with a ship's company you know nothing about and no schoolmaster is no place for little boys; they are much better off in a ship of the line, where at least they can act as ballast.'

  'Your guest has arrived, Sir Joseph,' said a servant, and a few minutes later Blaine brought Mr Fox upstairs, a tall slim man, well dressed in the modern way - short unpowdered hair, black coat, white neckcloth and waistcoat, shoes and breeches with plain buckles - rather good-looking, self-possessed, perhaps forty. He paid a particularly obliging attention to Sir Joseph's introductions and this favourable first impression was strengthened when they sat down to dinner in the smallest of the private rooms, a charming little octagon with a domed ceiling, and he said how happy he was to meet Captain Aubrey, whose capture of the Cacafuego in the last war had raised him to a pitch of enthusiasm exceeded only by the cutting-out of the Diane, and Dr Maturin, of whom he had heard so much from Sir Joseph. 'To a natural philosopher, sir, the islands of the South China Sea must present a vast wealth of nondescript plants and birds. Was you ever there?'

  'Alas, sir, it was never my good fortune to sail farther east than the coast of Sumatra. But I hope to do better this time.'

  'I hope so too, upon my word. I have a friend in those parts who is a great naturalist and he assures me that even the larger mammals are hardly known with any degree of certainty, that the Dutch scarcely knew anything of the interior of Java or Sumatra - were concerned only with commerce and took no scientific interest in the country at all - were in no way natural philosophers. He has wonderful collections and he spends what time he can spare from his official duties increasing them - but I am sure you know of him: Stamford Raffles, the LieutenantGovernor of Java.'

  'I have never had the happiness of meeting the gentleman, but I have seen his letters: Sir Joseph Banks has shown me several, some with dried specimens and admirable descriptions of plants and some with what seem to me most judicious suggestions for a living museum of natural history, a Kew on the faunal plane.'

  'You would like him, I am sure. He is possessed of the most brilliant talents and an extraordinary fund of energy. I met him years ago in Penang when I was a member of the legislative council and he was in the Company's service: he worked all day and he read all night and between times he collected anything from tigers to shrew-mice. A great linguist, too. He was of the utmost help to me when I was enquiring into the spread of Buddhism - the arrival of Mahayana Buddhism in Java.'

  'Dr Maturin and I were present when you read your paper at Somerset House,' observed Sir Joseph, and both Stephen and Jack, who had seen it in the Proceedings, took the opportunity to return Fox's civilities. The talk flowed steadily, and Fox spoke of naval affairs and naval politics as they were seen from the shore - spoke intelligently, with a great deal of information. It moved on to the Surpnse's unfortunate voyage, carrying Mr Stanhope to see another Malay sultan some years before, the voyage that had very nearly brought Stephen into the naturalist's Paradise beyond the Sunda Strait.

  'Yes,' said Fox, 'I remember that mission well, one of Whitehall's less brilliant ideas - it would have been far better left to us: Raffles would have dealt with it on the spot, and poor Mr Stanhope would have been spared all that weary voyage and his fatal illness. It was absurd to send a man of his age; though to be sure, the King's representative, the Crown by proxy and entitled to a thirteen-gun salute, if I do not mistake?'

  'Quite right, sir,' said Jack. 'Envoys have thirteen guns.'

  'Entitled to a thirteen-gun salute, then, has to be a man of great family or' - smiling round the table - 'of towering parts.'

  'He was a most amiable companion,' said Stephen. 'We studied the Malay language together, when he was well enough, and I remember his delight at the verb: no person, no number, no mood, no tense.'

  'That is the kind of verb for me,' said Jack.

  'Did you make much progress?' asked Fox.

  'We did not,' said Stephen. 'Ours was a deeply stupid book, written by a German in what he conceived to be French. When Mr Stanhope's oriental secretary joined us in India he was as helpful as could be and I did acquire some rudimentary notions; but the voyage was too short. This time I mean to do better, and I hope to find a Malay servant from some East-Indiaman.'

  'Oh,' cried Fox, 'there I can be of service, if you wish. My Ali has a cousin Ahmed who is out of a place, or about to be out of a place, a well-trained intelligent young fellow who was with a retired Straits merchant, Mr Wailer: he died a little while ago. I should have taken him myself, but with my suite I shall have no room. If you wish I will tell Ali to send him round. I am sure Mrs Wailer will give him a good character.'

  'That would be very kind indeed; I should be most obliged to you, sir.'

  'Speaking of suites,' said Jack, 'I do not know that it would be in order to discuss practical arrangements at this point, but before I go down to Portsmouth I should like to hear Mr Fox's views on numbers and messing, so that the carpenters and joiners can get to work at once; for there is not a moment to be lost.'

  'Yet if Sir Joseph and Dr Maturin do not mind, perhaps we might deal with the question straight away,' replied Fox. 'For as you so rightly say, we cannot spare a minute. I have been in ships that try to beat into the north-east monsoon, having missed the south-west, and it is terribly wearing to the spirit, as well as being fatal to success in a case like ours.'

  While these arrangements were being worked out, Stephen and Blaine, who were side by side, exchanged views on the wine they were drinking with their lamb, a delightful St Julien, and about other wines from the Medoc - the extraordinary variations in their price - the pitiful nonsense of most talk on the subject.

  'So although I shall leave with only a secretary and a couple of servants,' said Fox, summing up, 'when we touch at Batavia, Raffles will find me two or three imposing but largely ornamental figures who, together with their servants, will counterbalance the French mission; and obviously I shall need room for them.'

  'Pulo Prabang,' said Stephen after a pause. 'The name has been reminding me of two things ever since I first heard it, and now they are coming to the surface of what I facetiously call my memory. The first is that in your lecture, sir, you spoke of it as exhibiting some of the very few remains of Buddhism in the country of the Malays.'

  'Yes,' said Fox, smiling. 'It is an exceedingly interesting place from many points of view, and I long to see it. The Sultan is of course a Mahometan, like most Malaya; but like most Malays he is also far from zealous. And as one usually finds in those parts, he and his people retain many other pieties, beliefs, superstitions - call them what you please - and he would never, never disturb the Buddhist sanctuary at Kumai. Nor wou
ld anyone else: that would be the height of folly, sacrilege, and what is perhaps even more to the point, ill-luck for ever. The man who told me about the temple thought he could make out Hinayana influences, which would make it unique. Geologically the island is of great interest too, being the site of two ancient volcanic eruptions that have left vast and remarkably perfect craters, one by the sea, where the Sultan has his port, and the other high in the mountains. The second is now a lake, and by it stand the temple and the sanctuary. My informant says that the few monks come from Ceylon, but as our conversation was in French, a language neither of us spoke at all well, I may be mistaken; perhaps it was their rite that came from Ceylon. At all events I am quite sure Raffles said that the orang-utang and the rhinoceros were to be seen; and I believe he mentioned the elephant.'

  'What joy,' said Stephen. 'And that brings me to my second point. Surely Pulo Prabang is the place to which van Buren retired when we took Java, is it not?'

  'Van Buren? I do not think I recall the name.'

  'Cornelius van Buren. Some people put him on a level with Cuvier; some even higher. In any case there is no greater authority on the spleen.'

  'The anatomist? Of course, of course. Forgive me, my wits were astray: I am afraid I do not know what happened to him, but Raffles will certainly tell us.'

  From the anatomist they went on to those who supplied anatomists with what Blaine pleasantly described as their raw material: resurrection-men, hangman's assistants, Thames watermen. 'There are also those who are on what is called the smothering-lay, men who entice benighted youths or country-men who have had their pockets picked to a kipping-ken, and when they are asleep, lay another mattress on them and lie upon it themselves, two or three together.'

  From wicked men in general they passed to traitors in particular and then quite abruptly to Ledward; and both Jack and Stephen were astonished at Fox's passionate hatred of the man, the more so as their recent talk had been light, almost trifling. Fox was so moved that he spoke grossly - obviously an unusual thing with him, and oddly grating - turned pale and ate no more until the cloth was drawn and port and walnuts were on the table, and when the coming and going of servants necessarily changed the subject.

  He recovered fairly soon, however; and they sat long over their wine, the decanter twice renewed and the dinner ending very cheerfully. He declined their invitation to go with them to a concert of ancient music - to his great regret he could not tell one note from another - thanked them handsomely for the pleasure, the very great pleasure, of their company and for his excellent dinner, and so took his leave.

  While Jack was talking to a friend in the hall of the concert room Stephen said to Blaine, 'There was another point I thought of raising but did not: I should have mentioned it to you long before. I trust I am right in supposing that there is no question of hierarchy, no question of relative rank, where the envoy and I are concerned?'

  'Oh no. None whatsoever. It is perfectly understood that although Fox will ask your advice if any difficulties should arise, he is not required to follow it; on the other hand you are under no obligation to follow his recommendations either. There is nothing but a consultative nexus. He is in Pulo Prabang to conclude a treaty with the Sultan. You are there to observe the French; though naturally you will communicate any intelligence that may come into your possession and that may help him in his task.'

  'Stephen, a very good morning to you,' said Jack, looking up from his letter. 'I hope you slept well?'

  'Admirably well, I thank you. Lord, how I love the smell of coffee, bacon, toasted bread.'

  'Do you remember a very horrible midshipman called Richardson?'

  'I do not.'

  'Spotted Dick they used to call him in the Boadicea: he had more pimples than were quite right even in the Navy. We saw him again in Bridgetown, Admiral Pellow's flag-lieutenant. He had quite lost them by then.'

  'So we did too. A mathematician, as I recall. What of him?'

  'He is on the beach, so I sent down to ask whether he would like to be third in the Diane. And here is his letter, overflowing with delight and gratitude. I am so glad. Now do you remember Mr Muffitt?'

  'The captain of the Lushington Indiaman when we had our brush with Linois on the way back from Sumatra?'

  'Well done, Stephen. He has made the Canton voyage God knows how many times and he knows the South China Sea intimately well, which I do not. I wrote to ask his advice and here' - waving another letter - 'he invites me down to Greenwich. He has retired from the sea, but loves to watch the ships go up and down the river.'

  Mrs Broad came in to say good day and to bring more bacon and a dish of Leadenhall sausages, three of which Stephen instantly devoured. 'No one would think,' he said indistinctly through the third, 'that I had had a good dinner yesterday, and an excellent supper.'

  'The club's port was the best I have drunk for years,' said Jack. 'Fox stood it remarkably well: never a tremor as he went downstairs, which is more than could be said for Worsley and Hammond and some other members. What did you think of him?'

  'Sure my first impression was good, and he is certainly an intelligent, knowledgeable man; but this impression did not last quite as well as I could have wished. He laid a great compliment on his speech, as though he wished us to love him; and perhaps he talked a little too much, as barristers so often do. But then until you know a man well it is hard to know how much to put down to nervousness, and it is a nervous thing to be outnumbered three to one. Sir Joseph, who is better acquainted with him, rates his abilities very high - likes him too, I believe. And it was pleasant to hear him speak with such generous enthusiasm of his friend in Batavia, Raffles.' He rang for more coffee, and pouring Jack a cup he went on, 'Few men like to be trampled upon, but it seems to me that some go too far in avoiding it, and try to assume a dominating position from the start or at least as soon as the first civilities are over. Dr Johnson said that every meeting or every conversation was a contest in which the man of superior parts was the victor. But I think he was mistaken: for that is surely wrangling or hostile debate, often self-defeating - it is not conversation as I understand it at all, a calm amicable interchange of opinions, news, information, reflexions, without any striving for superiority. I particularly noticed that Sir Joseph, indulging in several of his masterly flashes of silence - rather prolonged flashes - remained quite obviously the most considerable man among us.'

  Jack nodded and breakfasted on: he had now reached toast and marmalade, and when he had emptied the nearer rack he said, 'Years ago I should have thought he was a great man and excellent company. But I have grown more reserved since then - a cantankerous old dog rather than a friendly young one - and although he may indeed be a great man I shall not make up my mind till I know him better. You did not hear us arranging his accommodation in Diane? He has exactly Mr Stanhope's ideas of the importance of an envoy, the direct representative of the Crown. We shall mess separately, except for particular invitations, though the extra bulkheads will make clearing the ship for action a longer, more complicated affair. And, by the way, you have not told me how you prefer to travel, as physician to the envoy and his suite or as my guest'

  'Oh as your guest Jack, if you please It would be so much simpler, and they can always ask for my services, if they need them.'

  'I am sure you are right,' said Jack. 'Stephen, I am away to Buckmaster's in five minutes: my uniform no longer fits. Will not you come with me? You could do with a decent coat.'

  'Alas, brother, I am taken up this morning. I have an interesting, delicate operation with my friend Aston at Guy's; and you will be at the House in the afternoon. But let us meet in the evening and go to the opera if Sir Joseph will lend us his box. They are playing La Clemenza di Tito.'

  'I shall look forward to it,' said Jack. 'And perhaps tomorrow we will take a boat down to Greenwich.'

  Stephen's operation went well, although throughout its not inconsiderable length the patient cried 'Oh God, oh Jesus, oh no no no, no more for God's s
ake. Oh God, oh God, I can't bear it,' the rapid flow of words broken by screams, for the frailty of his teeth and the state of his nose forbade the efficient use of a gag; and this Stephen found unusually tiring, so instead of cabling on Sir Joseph Banks at Spring Grove as he had intended he sat in an easy chair by the window in his room at the Grapes and looked first for van Buren's essay on the spleen in primates (the zoological primates) in the Journal des S�ans and found that it was indeed dated from Pub Prabang. Then he searched back among those diaries he had preserved - some had been taken, sunk or destroyed - and he found that of the year in which he first met Jack Aubrey.

  He had not used this particular code for a great while and at first it offered some difficulty; but in time he was reading fluently enough. 'Yes,' he said, 'even as late as that I was stunned entirely, I find - no feelings at all but sorrow, and even that a dull grey: music the only living thing.' He read on, going faster now and catching the mood of his former self not so much from the entries as from all the associations they brought back to vivid present life. 'Sure I have changed from the man who could speak such words to Dillon,' he said, 'but it is rather a recovery from an enormous blow, a reversion to a former state, than an evolution. The change in Jack is in fact more considerable, for even the most prescient eye could scarcely have seen the present Captain Aubrey in the wilful, indeed wanton, undisciplined Jack of those days, somewhat profligate and so impatient of restraint. Or do I exaggerate?' He turned the pages, running through his first contacts with naval intelligence- dear John Somerville, the fourth generation of a family of Barcelona merchants, a member of the Germandat, the Catalan brotherhood struggling against the Spanish, the Castilian, oppression of their country - the Catalans' hatred for the French armies that had burnt Montserrat and ravaged towns, villages, and even remote isolated mountain farms, destroying, raping, murdering - the Germandat's total refusal when in 1797 the Castilians deserted their English allies and joined the French - the appalling successes of Buonaparte's campaigns and Stephen's realization that the only hope for Europe was an English victory, which must be won at sea; and that this victory was a necessary condition for both Catalan autonomy and Irish independence. The diary recorded his connexion with Somerville after his early days in the Sophie and with Somerville's English chief, one of Blaine's best agents until his horrible death in France: recorded it in much too much detail, and though to be sure the code never had been broken some of the entries made him shudder even now. What insane risks he had run before he came to understand the true nature of intelligence!