‘We will send a boat out to him at first light,’ Ransome announced quietly. ‘And Mr Wickham? Inform the French sailors that a British ship lies off shore. Let them not have any ideas of escape.’
Wickham relayed the message to the prisoners, who outnumbered the British sailors. They appeared to accept their lot, glad, no doubt, to be alive.
Wickham could have lain down on the sand and slept for a day, he was certain, but, as an officer, he was required to stay on his feet and be an example for the hands. He almost trembled with exhaustion.
‘What will tomorrow bring?’ Gould asked him.
‘We will all be taken aboard the prize and the prisoners likely deposited in Portsmouth. After that … Barbados, I will wager, and perhaps a few days of shore leave and respite.’
‘A little holiday from making war will not go amiss,’ Gould replied.
‘No, it will not,’ Wickham said with feeling. ‘I could sleep for a sennight and not be recovered.’
Twenty-seven
After three frustrating days in delicate negotiations with the authorities in Portsmouth, on the island of Dominica, they had finally agreed to accept Hayden’s rescued royalists if he would take the prisoners on to Barbados. The crossing to Barbados had required a further two days, due to the trade choosing those particular days to become indecisive. Barbados was raised, finally, and Hayden’s excitement could hardly be hidden. How happy Mrs Hayden would be to find him home weeks before expected!
When the anchor was well and firmly down and the schooner holding her position without doubt, Hayden ordered the boats launched and, leaving Ransome in command of the prize, went ashore and hurried through the twilight streets to his island home. His pulse was speeding somewhat, and his colour high when he reached the door, his imagination running ahead of him to the sweet delights of married life and his comely bride, who would be more than surprised to find him returned so soon.
The house, however, was dark, not a candle burning, though the smell of smoke permeated the air. Hayden found himself rushing from room to room, lest there was a fire as yet undiscovered. Very quickly he found the source. A family of Africans were crouched around a fire built on the tile of the covered porch that looked out over the small garden. They were in the process of cooking a fish on a makeshift spit, and the smoke was being carried through an open door and into the house.
‘Where is Madame?’ Hayden asked. ‘Mrs Hayden. Where is she?’
They looked at him as though he were nothing more than a mild curiosity – a strange animal making unintelligible noises. He hurried inside, banging the door closed behind him.
Very quickly, he mounted the stairs, calling out as he went, but there was no reply. Their chamber was empty, the bed unmade. The windows were opened and leaves had blown in and collected in the eddies behind furniture. The other rooms were undisturbed.
Frantic, Hayden pummelled down the stairs and was out of the front door where he collided with Rosseau, who was so red-faced and gasping that he could not speak immediately.
‘Where is Mrs Hayden? Where is my wife?’ Hayden demanded, as though Rosseau might somehow be responsible for her absence.
‘Gone …’ the little Frenchman gasped. He held up a hand and tried to master his breathing. ‘They have taken her …’ he managed after a moment.
‘Who have taken her?’
‘ ’er brother … and the comte.’
‘The comte!’ Hayden realized he had shouted.
Rosseau nodded and then went on in his native tongue. ‘Oui. Le comte. He …’ Then he shook his head. ‘Let me begin in the proper place. You were right, Captain ’ayden. The comte is not a royalist but a Jacobin and a spy. Miguel, he knew something – a secret, that he never told to you. The Spanish frigates … they sailed to Vera Cruz for silver. That was their commission. The Spaniard, the merchant whom the admiral sent to Miguel, he never found a ship to carry Miguel to his uncle. He wanted only to lend Miguel money at interest and keep him here as long as possible. Miguel, I think he suspected the comte from the very beginning. He went to him and they made some arrangement – I cannot say precisely what – and then they took Madame in the middle of the night and they were gone.’
‘Madame is gone? Where?’
‘On a boat for Guadeloupe, I think.’
‘How do you know all this?’
‘I found a woman, a maid in the comte’s house, and I put the suggestion in her mind that her employer was not a royalist but a Jacobin spy. At first she said it was impossible, but then she began to see that there were little things – many little things – that could better be explained by the comte being a spy than by him being a royalist. It was she who told me Miguel had come to meet with the comte. And now she has come to me to tell that the comte and Miguel and Mrs ’ayden all went off in the night, leaving the comtesse and her children behind.’
‘When did this happen?’
‘Two nights past.’
‘Have you gone to Admiral Caldwell?’
‘I have only just learned of it myself this evening. You are the first I tell.’
Hayden considered only a moment. ‘I will see the admiral this night.’
He closed the door behind him and began down the street.
‘Do not tell him it was me,’ Rosseau said, trotting along beside him, as he walked as quickly as he was able. ‘Do not even whisper my name. The Jacobins must not learn it was me.’
‘I will keep your name back,’ Hayden told him. ‘Do not be concerned. Your part will not be known. I have other evidence that the comte is a traitor to us.’
‘Where is it they have taken Madame, do you think?’
‘I do not know, Rosseau, but I would wager all I have that Miguel and de Latendresse will have hired or come to an arrangement with French privateers to apprehend this Spanish frigate.’
Caldwell’s residence was not distant and Hayden was there, knocking upon the door, in short order. The admiral was at table and came away from it rather offended and surly. He did not invite Hayden to join him.
‘What is this matter, Hayden, that could not wait until I had finished my meal?’
‘Mrs Hayden has been abducted against her will, by her brother and de Latendresse—’
‘Latendresse!’
‘Yes, Admiral. I have recently taken a group of royalists from the island of Guadeloupe and they are certain, beyond any doubt, that de Latendresse betrayed a number of them to the Jacobins and that he has been in the employ of the Jacobins all along, only masquerading as a royalist.’ Hayden did not add that the man was likely only pretending to be a comte as well.
‘Royalists …’ The admiral took a chair. ‘I can see you are distraught, Hayden, but you must begin at the beginning so that I might catch up.’
Hayden was too agitated to sit and paced forth and back across Caldwell’s office, relating the events of his recent cruise. Caldwell did not interrupt once the entire telling but sat behind his massive desk, following Hayden’s progress as he tacked back and forth across the room. Finally, Hayden brought it all to a conclusion with news of the Spanish treasure frigates and his own ‘spy’s’ observations of the comte.
Caldwell sat in his chair, rather dumbfounded, Hayden thought. He had just been told that his favourite frigate commander was a vainglorious ass and his royalist friend was a spy and had, in fact, been playing him for a fool. It was a great deal to absorb in a short time.
‘You do not think these royalists who singled out de Latendresse were engaged in some grudge or other – the French are forever turning in their neighbours and sending people to the guillotine because they mislike them.’
‘I am quite certain that these royalists were telling me the truth. De Latendresse has found a way to enrich himself tremendously, and he has gone off with Don Miguel Campillo, abducted Mrs Hayden and left his own family behind. I do not believe you will ever see the man again unless we capture him and bring him to justice.’
Caldwell considered a moment,
perhaps searching for another defence he might throw up in the path of Hayden’s assertions.
‘If I understand you correctly, Hayden, there will be at least one, and perhaps two, Spanish frigates bearing silver?’
‘Unless there are more waiting in Vera Cruz but, very typically, it seems there has been but a single frigate or a pair performing this service in recent years.’
‘A far cry from the treasure ships of only a few years past,’ Caldwell observed, almost wistfully. ‘I can send word to the Spanish in Havana, but it would seem this will likely be too late.’ The admiral contemplated a moment more. ‘I should wonder if there is a privateer powerful enough to match even a single Spanish frigate. There are a few converted merchant vessels operating in these waters, but even they would carry only two dozen 12-pounders at most. They fly from our frigates wherever they are met.’ Caldwell looked up at Hayden. ‘I do wonder if de Latendresse can muster the ships to take a Spanish frigate.’
‘It would seem that he believes he can, Admiral, or he would not have disappeared the day after Miguel approached him with the news of the Spanish silver being shipped.’ Hayden knew the privateers often sailed with large crews and relied on boarding rather than guns.
‘Mmm …’ Caldwell still seemed to resist the idea that the comte had been playing him for a fool – as any man would, Hayden realized.
‘It would seem to be an act of treason for this Spaniard – Mrs Hayden’s brother – to give the French the date the Spanish frigate intends to sail and perhaps the route it will use as well. He is divorcing himself from his country quite decisively if he has done this.’
‘Miguel is a desperate man, sir. And perhaps he believes his part in this matter can be kept dark.’
‘He is rather naive if he believes that,’ Caldwell asserted, and Hayden nodded agreement.
‘There is the matter of the French and Spanish abducting my bride …’ Hayden reminded the admiral, hoping to appeal to his British – not to mention male – pride and sense of honour.
‘And how do you propose we get her back?’
It was the very question Hayden had been asking himself. ‘The Spanish frigate will almost certainly sail to Cádiz through the New Bahama Channel …’ he said, almost thinking aloud.
Caldwell nodded. ‘If it does not first stop in Havana, though that is much less frequent now.’
‘If I had my ship I would go searching for the privateers in the channel.’
‘You do not expect to find your bride aboard a privateer?’ Caldwell smiled.
‘In fact, I do. After he has betrayed this information to de Latendresse, Miguel will not return to Spanish soil until he is certain it is safe and that no one knows his part. The comte will take his money and travel to some neutral nation until he is certain France is safe for him. I believe they will sail north to one of the United States … and Miguel will not go without his sister.’
‘It is a great deal of conjecture, Hayden. Perhaps even wishful thinking. How certain are you that there is a Spanish frigate transporting bullion?’
Hayden thought it the wrong moment to give a realistic assessment. ‘Quite certain, sir.’
‘But you have no ship.’
‘Unless I have the good fortune to run across my first lieutenant in the Themis, I have only the privateer’s schooner.’
‘A very undermanned little ship, Hayden, you must admit.’
‘Sir Benjamin, if it were Lady Caldwell abducted, would you not go after her in a jolly boat if that was all you had?’
‘When I was your age, Hayden, I would have taken on all of Spain and France with a pistol to have my bride back, but I am older now, if only the smallest amount wiser. I do not think you will accomplish what you hope without your own frigate and likely the aid of the other captains in my little squadron … and they are at sea and beyond recall. The schooner you have sailed here is a prize and not yours to employ in personal matters. However, having said that, I deem this threat to our Spanish ally’s treasure ship to be a serious matter and therefore I am willing to take extraordinary measures to avert it.
‘As the only ship we have at our disposal is your prize, I will send you with orders to warn, if at all possible, the captain of the Spanish frigate. If you are not able to do so, you must employ whatever means possible to ensure the safety of that ship and not let the treasure fall into enemy hands. I will give you a letter to Sir William containing the same orders, in the event that you should meet him or any of your fellow captains. I will also send a boat north to attempt to deliver orders to any of the frigate captains to sail to your aid, but I should not hold out hope of that. You will note that the interests of His Majesty’s government in this matter are to take priority over your desire to rescue your lady in distress. Do you comprehend what I am saying, Captain? Naturally, I am in great sympathy with you personally, but the British government, you must realize, does not care a fig for your bride.’
What Hayden comprehended was that, if he used a Royal Navy ship to rescue his bride and the Lords of the Admiralty decided to court-martial him for it, the admiral would claim his orders were only to preserve the vessel of their ally from capture. Given that Caldwell did not seem to be in the favour of the Lords Commissioners, it was a very wise course. The written orders would make no mention of Hayden’s bride and the admiral would deny any suggestion that he had given Hayden tacit approval to attempt to find and return Mrs Hayden.
‘I do understand. And thank you, sir.’
‘I cannot imagine why you would thank me. I am sending you into danger in a little schooner with a few 3-pounders. You have nothing for which to thank me.’
The admiral pulled a sheet of paper from a drawer and unstoppered a bottle of ink. ‘Now,’ he said, taking up a quill and examining the tip in the poor light. ‘Tell me what you require to get underway.’
‘Powder, shot, victuals, water … and men, sir. We are terribly short of hands.’
‘Men … The entire Navy is short of men, Hayden …’
Twenty-eight
The men came in twos and threes, sometimes alone. A number had been in the care of a physician ashore and were from the British frigates stationed in Barbados. They were easily picked out among the other men, for they moved stiffly, as if they had become fragile while in hospital, and they were pale among the sun-darkened hands. Hayden did not think they would be much use in a fight. Two men who came aboard had been serving Admiral Caldwell as servants ashore. That Caldwell had given them up and returned them to sea service astonished Hayden. In the end, the crew numbered thirty-two, with Ransome, Wickham and Gould as officers. He even had his own coxswain aboard. Men had taken to touching Childers for luck, as he had been grazed by a musket ball while running from the French and wore a dressing around his head yet, to prove it. Had he leaned an inch to one side at that instant he would certainly be dead.
It was a day of utter frustration for Hayden. He paced the deck with anxious energy, and implored his men to make haste with every task, with the result that they were then lacking employment while they awaited the victuals or the powder. And so the day dragged on. Ransome had ordered awnings rigged over the quarterdeck and between the two masts, giving a little shade to the vessel, which baked beneath the tropical sun.
Hawthorne and his few marines had laid all the muskets and pistols out on an open section of deck, where they cleaned and serviced each one to be certain it would perform its duty when required. Ransome and Wickham went over the ship from stem to stern and keel to truck and put everything to rights that they could, in the brief time allowed.
The time, however, did not seem brief to Hayden, who imagined his bride sailing further and further from him into a vast, featureless ocean where the track of a ship disappeared not long after it passed. Her absence and loss was more than just something he comprehended in his mind, he felt it in his body and chest as though a part of him had been cut away. The pain of it never left him, not for an instant.
The sun w
as setting when everything was stowed and the ship trimmed to the lieutenant’s satisfaction. The anchor was weighed and the schooner began to gather way and shape her course north on the vague little zephyrs and gusts that made their way over the island of Barbados. The brief tropical twilight descended upon ship and sea, and then darkness and a clear, starry night. Lamps were lit, watches set and hammocks piped down. The familiar routine of a ship of the British Navy established itself without any need for explanation or extra discipline, the officers and men falling into it like it was the natural order of the world.
Hayden had taken the cabin aft that had been the residence of the former master, and slung a cot there. It was a cramped little space compared to his cabin on the Themis, and a closet compared to his cabin aboard Raisonnable, but its former occupant had been a fastidious man, he had come to realize, and it was clean and relatively fresh, aired by an overhead skylight and small windows in the transom. The schooner would be swifter to windward than a brig of similar size, not much different with the wind on the beam, and not as swift or as easily steered as her square-rigged cousin with the wind aft or on the quarter. Of course, the topsail schooner carried square canvas as well – sometimes only the square topsail by which she was distinguished, but sometimes a course and even a topgallant, if the owner or master was determined and had the manpower to make use of every little puff of wind that came his way.
Wickham approached the captain’s little patch of deck, a man of perhaps thirty years trailing in his wake. Hayden waved them forward.
‘Sir, this is Henry Scrivener. Before he took ill, he was master’s mate aboard Sir William’s Inconstant. He has spent many years in these waters and has brought both his own instruments and his charts aboard with him.’
Hayden refrained from making any comment upon the man’s name. ‘How long have you been a master’s mate, Scrivener?’
‘Six years, Captain. I was rated able before that, sir, but took a keen interest in navigation and was always pestering Mr Chester with questions. Finally he said he could bear it no more and taught me his trade so I would leave him in peace, sir.’
Until the Sea Shall Give Up Her Dead Page 32
