Cat O'Nine Tales

by Julia Golding

  Emerging in to the daylight after hours down in the hold, I was at first blinded by the light. Maclean seized my shoulder and pulled me to his side. All the men were lined up on deck, looking up to a raised area at the stern, to where the officers were gathered, awaiting the captain. It was my first time on board a warship and, even under these circumstances, I was overwhelmed. The Courageous was a masterpiece of modern engineering, a deadly killing machine big enough to carry seventy-four huge guns housed on two decks below our feet. Three masts sprang through the planks and up into the sky. Each was laden with billowing white sails. There were so many ropes stretching above, far more complicated than even the flies at Drury Lane; I wondered how anyone knew which one to touch.

  Tearing my eyes from the seaman on lookout, perched on the cross-trees at the top of the main mast, I sought out my friends. I couldn’t find them at first, hedged in as I was by tall men all waiting in a nervous silence. Shifting slightly to peer round Maclean, I spotted Frank and Pedro on the far side of the deck. And Syd was with them.

  Syd.

  In the perils of the last few hours, I’d almost forgotten that my friend might be on board. Did Maclean know about him? I glanced up at my captor but he was frowning, watching the officers warily. Having an ally Maclean knew nothing about might prove invaluable. I looked back to my friends. They couldn’t see me but from Syd’s angry flush and flexing fists I guessed he knew I was on board. I only hoped Frank had had time to tell him the whole story. If Syd exploded and revealed my presence to Captain Barton, I dreaded to think what the outcome might be. I didn’t want my neck stretched by a rope from one of the masts – I liked it the length it was.

  The door to the captain’s cabin was now thrown open and a man dressed in a salt-stained uniform strode to the rail to look down on us. Enter Captain Barton, Barmy Barton – and I was soon to learn that the nickname was well deserved. He had a shock of grey hair tied back in a black ribbon, a weather-beaten face, and eyes that failed to point in the same direction. Perhaps both eyes were on the alert for those demons Maclean had mentioned. He sniffed and spat on the lower deck. Immediately, a boy of my age dashed forward and scrubbed the mess away.

  ‘Seamen,’ announced the captain in a rasping voice, ‘you have the privilege of serving aboard the finest ship in His Majesty’s navy. I run a disciplined ship. There will be no brawling. No slacking. No drunkenness. Any dereliction of duty will be punished severely.’

  I saw some of the old hands shudder.

  ‘Obedience will bring rewards. Now, those of you who joined us in Bristol,’ the captain glanced to the huddle of landsmen standing with Syd, Frank and Pedro, ‘need to put your old life behind you. Understand, whoever, whatever you were before does not matter here. On my ship, my word is law. I am your father, your mother, your god.’

  Silence met this insane pronouncement. Frank was frowning; I could tell he was composing his letter of complaint to the Admiralty even as he stood there.

  The captain nodded to his first lieutenant, a severe-looking man with a hooked nose. ‘Mr Lely, enter their names in the muster book and assign them their duties.’ As the lieutenant moved to execute the order, he revealed the officer I had met briefly at the ball standing behind him. Gone was the smiling, relaxed Lieutenant Belsize who had been chatting to Mr Dixon in the Octagonal Room; in his place was a scared-looking officer standing poker-straight, ready to jump at the least word. Would he remember and recognize me? It seemed unlikely with my black eye and boy’s clothing.

  My speculations were interrupted as Maclean marched me forward to enter my name among the ship’s company. As purser, Maclean was a cut above the common seamen so took me to the front of the line, well away from my friends.

  ‘Ah, Maclean,’ said Lieutenant Lely with a wintry smile, ‘and who’s this young lad?’

  ‘My new apprentice, sir,’ replied Maclean quickly. ‘Jimmy Brown.’

  I watched as one of the midshipmen, a young gentleman no older than Frank, entered ‘James Brown’ on the list. I was given the rating ‘Boy, Third Class.’

  ‘Doing him a favour, I take it?’ commented Lely.

  ‘Aye, sir. Giving him his chance.’

  ‘Good, good. You, boy, I hope you’ll live up to Mr Maclean’s expectations.’

  I bit my tongue. ‘Aye, sir.’

  ‘Move along then.’

  We waited among the other hands as the rest of the new men were entered. I wondered what name Frank gave; whatever it was caused no concern, for his details were rapidly recorded and he was pushed on by the next man. When the formalities had been completed, a bell rang on the upper deck.

  ‘F . . . fall in, n . . . new men, for the captain’s inspection,’ roared Lieutenant Belsize, finding a voice that he had not dared use in the civilized confines of the Assembly Rooms.

  ‘Behave!’ Maclean gave me a shove in the back towards the other boys. This meant that for the first time I was near Pedro. I took my place next to him. Frank and Syd were standing among the men. All three of them were watching me. I tried to smile but somehow my face had forgotten how to do it.

  The captain began prowling down the line. He stopped in front of Syd, standing so close he was practically breathing into his face. Suddenly, Barton launched a punch at Syd’s stomach. The blow fell but Syd did not flinch. His eyes widened for a moment, but then he continued looking over the captain’s shoulder as if nothing had happened. Captain Barton rubbed his knuckles and chuckled.

  ‘Excellent. So we have a new champion among us. I look forward to challenging the other captains when we arrive in the West Indies.’

  Barton continued down the line. Frank looked worried as he approached – as well he might – but he was passed over with only a nod. The captain now reached the new boys. He paused for a moment in front of Pedro.

  ‘Where are you from, boy?’

  ‘London, sir,’ replied Pedro fearlessly. ‘And before?’

  ‘Africa, sir.’

  ‘Slave?’

  ‘Freeman, sir.’

  ‘Hmm, we’ll see. Mr Lely, check the boy’s claim when we get to Kingston. I don’t want to harbour any runaways.’

  The captain took a pace and one of his eyes fell on me.

  ‘Who’s this?’

  My heart was pounding. Had he noticed already?

  ‘Your name, boy?’

  ‘J-Jimmy Brown, sir,’ I managed to stammer. ‘Purser’s apprentice.’

  ‘They should’ve called you Tom Thumb.’ The officers standing at the captain’s shoulder laughed dutifully. ‘How came you by that black eye, boy?’

  ‘I had an encounter with the press gang, sir.’

  Maclean shuffled forward at this point, squeezing his cap between nervous hands, worried his deception was about to unravel. It was on the tip of my tongue to take a chance and blurt out my true identity, but then the mad glint in Barton’s eye pulled me up short. This was a man quite capable of a summary hanging just on a whim, I was sure of that.

  ‘Hmm, finely spoken. Can you read and write?’ asked the captain.

  ‘Aye, sir.’

  ‘Where did you learn?’

  Maclean stepped in. ‘From his last captain, sir. The boy said he’d been in the merchant service.’

  ‘Already been at sea then, boy?’

  I looked at Maclean in confusion. ‘Er, aye, sir.’

  ‘Did you abscond?’ Barton’s face was darkening; I could sense the mad fury was never far from the surface. He gripped me around the throat as if to wring the answer from me.

  ‘No sir, he was paid off,’ the purser said quickly. ‘Drank his wages and about to go home to his old mum when I met with him. Offered him a chance to join the king’s service – he leapt at it after my lads got hold of him.’

  The moment passed; Barton was back in control of himself. He let me go.

  ‘A bit of luck for you, eh?’ growled the captain, patting my shoulder as if for all the world he hadn’t just been throttling me.

  �
�Aye, sir,’ I gasped.

  Bit of bad luck.

  Barton turned away. ‘New boys, let us see what you’re made of: first up to the cross-trees gets double rations for a week. On my word . . . go!’

  There were five of us: four boys, including Pedro, and me. The others sprang to the main-mast. Pedro grabbed my arm.

  ‘Come on, Cat,’ he urged.

  Feeling as if this nightmare would never end, I followed him across the deck.

  ‘I can’t do this, Pedro,’ I said in despair. I was in no condition to start scaling anything.

  ‘Course you can,’ Pedro whispered, putting my hand on the shrouds leading up the mast from the side. They formed a kind of ladder. ‘You’ve got to. It’s just like playing backstage – no higher than the flies at home.’

  ‘Get on with you, boys,’ barked Lieutenant Belsize. ‘Didn’t you hear the captain?’

  Pedro began to climb the ropes with ease. I followed as quick as I could, struggling up to the cross-trees to where three smug boys and one worried Pedro waited.

  ‘Now slide down the halyard,’ bellowed Captain Barton.

  Not having the foggiest idea what that was, I hung back to watch the others leap on the ropes used to raise the sails leading back to the deck. It involved a stomach-churning journey in the air without the reassurance of the rope ladder. Screwing up my courage, I followed Pedro down the halyard he had chosen, landing last on deck.

  I felt quite pleased with myself for having managed this first task without breaking my neck. My spirits were improved by seeing the captain congratulate Pedro for coming first. I was smiling as Barton swung round to me.

  ‘You, boy, what are you grinning at?’

  I switched off my smile immediately and stood to attention.

  ‘You’ve nothing to grin about: that was the worst display of skylarking I’ve seen in a long while. I thought you’d said you’d been at sea before?’

  ‘Sir?’ I wished the deck would open and swallow me up.

  ‘You climbed the rigging like an old woman. You’ve clearly not had enough practice. Ten more times up and down. Mr Lely, see that he does it!’

  ‘Aye, sir.’ I felt a prod in my back from the lieutenant. ‘Off you go, lad. Look lively.’

  My arms were shaking as I began the weary climb back up. I could feel my friends watching me, desperate to help, but they could do nothing. It just had to be endured. When I reached the top, my hands were raw. Too much sitting around at Boxton had softened them.

  Boxton. Had I really once sat in a drawing room worrying about being bored? I let out a strangled laugh. The sailor on watch gave me a funny look.

  ‘Here, son, take a nip of this,’ he said, thrusting a bottle in my fist. ‘Just don’t let them see.’ He jerked his head to the quarterdeck where the officers were now pacing, minds turned to other matters than one sluggish cabin boy.

  I took a swig. A fiery liquid burned its way down my throat and into my empty stomach. It certainly pepped me up, but did not help my already clumsy fingers to grasp the ropes.

  ‘Thanks! See you in a minute.’ I gave him a tired smile and began my descent.

  By my sixth ascent it was getting dark. Mr Lely chivvied me along half-heartedly and only when the captain was watching. When I reached my friend on the masthead, a bell rang.

  ‘Ah, you again, is it?’

  ‘’Fraid so.’

  ‘That’s the bell for supper,’ said the sailor. ‘Almost end of my watch.’

  The crowds on deck thinned as the men disappeared below to eat. My stomach growled but I did not need to be told that I wasn’t going to be let off completing my punishment just to satisfy my hunger. I paused for breath, my head swimming. The bottle was thrust in my hand again.

  ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ I panted. ‘Can’t hold my drink.’

  The sailor laughed. ‘That’s all there is on board, lad. You’ll have to get used to it quickly.’ He held out a hand to steady me. ‘Easy there. The deck don’t make a soft landing.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’ I closed my eyes, fighting a losing battle with exhaustion.

  My words made him laugh all the more. ‘No need to call your shipmates sir, Tom Thumb. You can call me Harkness.’

  ‘Boy! Get down here or you’ll get the lash!’ bellowed Mr Lely, seeing me clinging to the mast like barnacle.

  So tired that I was now reckless, I slid down the halyard as fast as Pedro had done. Only four more to go.

  Harkness had gone when I reached the top again, leaving the masthead temporarily unmanned. I hugged the mast for a moment, watching the stars come out, swaying dizzily overhead. I hadn’t had any time to give thought to where we were but, from what little I could see in the gloom, we were already far out to sea. How had we ended up in this mess?

  Careless of the consequences, I sat down on the yardarm, twining myself around a rope. Thankfully, there was no one to see me sobbing with tiredness. Mr Dixon: dead in all likelihood. My favourite footman, Joseph, injured, I knew not how badly. Pedro, Frank and I caught in this horrible trap. I couldn’t see how I’d survive this: I just wasn’t strong enough. I was a girl trying to do a man’s work.

  ‘That’s enough, Cat!’ an unsympathetic voice struck up in my head. ‘You’ve always said you’re as good as a boy; now prove it!’

  ‘But I can’t!’ I wailed into the night.

  ‘Oh, yes, you can. You never had a soft life at Drury Lane so why expect one here? You’ve been told to climb a few ropes, not swim the Atlantic. Get on with it!’

  Growling at my unforgiving self, I struggled to my feet. Just as I placed my hand on the rope, a tune struck up below. It was Pedro – it had to be – I recognized that violin anywhere. He was playing a sea-shanty we’d often sung together backstage. He was playing for me.

  Right, I thought, it’s time to prove what I am made of. If Syd still doesn’t let me into his gang after this, I’ll punch him.

  SCENE 2 – TATTOO

  Finally, thankfully, trip number ten came and I landed on the deck for the last time.

  ‘Very good, lad,’ said Lieutenant Lely, giving me a pat on the back. ‘Go get your rations.’

  But it was not to be.

  ‘You, boy!’ Captain Barton strode to the rail of the quarterdeck.

  ‘Aye, sir?’ I remembered to stand up straight.

  ‘Learned your lesson?’

  ‘Aye, sir.’

  ‘Then you can take first watch on the masthead.’ He disappeared into the golden, candlelit glow of his cabin, accompanied by the smell of roasted meats.

  I couldn’t believe it. I gave Lieutenant Lely a desperate look but the second-in-command’s face was set. It would take more than this casual cruelty from the captain to shock him.

  ‘You heard, boy. Up you go again.’

  How I managed to get up there, I don’t know. All that kept me going was the thought that I wouldn’t have to come down again for hours. Very little watching took place as I lay my head against the mast, shivering. I wasn’t even sure what I was supposed to be looking for, or what I should do if I saw something. My main preoccupation was trying not to fall asleep. I also had an urgent problem of a most private nature that would have to be relieved sooner or later. Utter misery.

  I distracted myself by cursing Billy Shepherd with all the foul names in my extensive vocabulary. If he was responsible for our plight, I was going to survive this and make him pay. I pondered suitable punishments, but nothing came close to what he had done. After all that had passed between us in Bath, I felt oddly betrayed. Why I’d come to expect fair dealing from a known villain was beyond me, but still I’d never thought he’d get someone else to do his dirty work for him.

  At around midnight, the eight bells rang, signalling the end of the watch. I heard my replacement panting as he climbed up.

  ‘Cat? Still with us?’ It was Pedro.

  ‘Just.’

  He pressed a dry biscuit into my hand. ‘There. It’s for you.’

  ‘You s
houldn’t have –’

  ‘Forget it. I’m on double rations, remember.’

  ‘You’ve told Syd what’s going on?’

  ‘Yes. He was all for going to the captain but we persuaded him out of it until we’ve worked out if Barton is mad or not.’

  ‘Oh, he’s mad all right.’

  Pedro rubbed my aching shoulders. ‘Syd’s on your watch so will look after you. You’d better get below: you’ve only got four hours before the next duty.’

  I groaned and put my hand with practised ease in the dark to the halyard, but then I remembered something.

  ‘Er, Pedro, where does one . . . you know . . .?’

  Fortunately he understood without the need for more hints. ‘At the heads – that’s the front of the ship. There are some seats under the figurehead. I’d choose your moment carefully.’

  ‘You don’t have to remind me. Goodnight.’

  I slid to the deck, landing with barely a sound, and attended to what was necessary. Feeling somewhat more comfortable, I made my way back to my cabin, passing Frank on the stairs. He gave me an anguished look but said nothing.

  Maclean was waiting for me below. He snorted as I stumbled in.

  ‘Taking to the life, eh?’ he mocked.

  I said nothing as I tumbled into my hammock. I didn’t even nibble the biscuit; I was too tired.

  It felt as if I’d hardly closed my eyes when I was tipped out of my hammock and ordered to take my second watch on the masthead. At least this time I had the reward of seeing Pedro as I climbed up to relieve him. He was difficult to make out in the dark but his hand felt frozen as he helped me up. The ropes were slippery with frost. He blew on his fingers.

  ‘Frank and I have been thinking,’ he whispered. ‘Our priority is to get you out of here, somewhere safe. Frank says he knows the second lieutenant by sight.’

  ‘Yes, I met him too at the Assembly Rooms but he hasn’t recognized me.’

  ‘Just as well until we’re sure of him. Frank’s going to sound him out, see if he can be trusted.’