'Yes, sir,' said Harding, stepping forward and taking off his hat. 'I beg pardon for interrupting you, sir, but the Nimble is finding it hard to stem the tide, and if we want any effect of surprise among the people, perhaps we might call for the targets right away.'
'Make it so, Mr Harding, make it so.' And to Stephen, 'How I ramble on.'
He rambled no longer. The Nimble had been anxiously watching the Bellona's upper rigging, and as soon as the signals broke out her boats shoved off, towing their targets. 'We will beat to quarters, Mr Harding, if you please,' said Jack, and almost instantly the drum volleyed and thundered. Some few of the newer, heavier Bellonas had not caught the signs of the coming exercise—the gunner's very particular attention to his charges, the captains of the gun-crews' sly checking of tackles, tackle-falls, trucks, ladles, rammers, sponges, worms, and their absent-minded easing of the tompions—and those few were properly amazed by the din. But by now all except the very, very stupid landsmen at least knew their action-stations, and they ran to them; while the very few exceptions were kindly guided by the bosun's mates.
Dr Maturin's station was of course the after-cockpit, and here he stood with his assistants, William Smith and Alexander Macaulay, together with a few unsatisfactory makeshift loblolly-boys—farrier's apprentices or out-of-work slaughterhouse hands—and in this space, bare except for instrument-racks and the chests of the midshipmen (its usual inhabitants) heaved together and lashed to form an operating-table, they stood silently listening.
The three foremost upper-deck starboard eighteen-pounders bore on the leading target almost at the same moment and fired with a triple crash that made the hanging lanterns tremble: they were instantly followed by the huge, much deeper voices of the gundeck thirty-two pounders, and for the next five minutes the entire hull was filled with a great bellowing din, so confused that no separate discharge other than those directly overhead could be distinguished: at the same time powder smoke came below, wafting its heady smell about them. Then all at once a deafened silence, followed by the rumble of guns being housed.
'Sir,' cried William Smith, much too loud, 'I saw a very curious thing: whenever there was a split second between the explosions just over us, each produced a different tremor in the smoke. You could distinctly see it against the lit edge of the lantern.' He spoke with something of the excitement of battle; and with much the same freedom Macaulay said that he did hope it had been a satisfactory exercise—there was such an agreeable feeling in the ship when they had done well. Before Stephen could reply the first of the casualties came down the after-hatch, carried by his team-mates, a young Marine who had been stationed at one of the after thirty-two-pounders to help run her up—she weighed about three tons—and who had misjudged the speed and force of the recoil.
'A very moderate tourniquet for twenty minutes, Mr Macaulay, if you please,' said Stephen, sewing up the gash, 'and a spica bandage; but by no means tight.'
Macaulay had been dresser to a famous London surgeon and his bandages were marvels of regularity, the admiration of all the seamen; but regularity was often cousin to constraint, itself close kin to gangrene.
In the early days of a commission, when many of the pressed men were still sad lobcocks, without discernment or sea-legs, it was usual for these exercises to cause a fair amount of damage—so much so that when Stephen returned to the quarterdeck Jack asked, 'What was the butcher's bill this time?'
'A few sprains and rope-burns,' said Stephen, 'and one flesh-wound—a strip of gastrocnemius—more spectacular than grave. As I sewed it up I reflected upon gangrene—always a possibility—and upon an interesting treatment that I discussed aboard the flag . . .' Yet as he spoke he remembered his friend's odd squeamishness about some aspects of medicine and even more of surgery and broke off to exclaim at the smoke-bank from their exercise, still remarkably solid and coherent there away to leeward. 'A satisfactory exercise, I trust?'
'Tolerably so, I thank you, for what very little it amounts to—scarcely more than two full broadsides. Still, with so many well-trained crews it was reasonably accurate and pretty brisk, roughly the equivalent of two and half minutes. And after all the Royal George sank the Superbe in Quiberon Bay with only two broadsides—very heavy weather indeed and not one of her six hundred people saved.'
They fell silent, both thinking of an earlier command, the Leopard, which sank a Dutch man-of-war in the high southern latitudes, also with the loss of all hands. One or two messengers reached the Captain, who dealt with them in a firm, competent, official voice; then, turning to Stephen, he said in an undertone, 'I am so looking forward to our concert tomorrow.'
So was Stephen; but he was concerned for the prime performer, the oboe, the essence of their meeting. From the dispensary, far aft on the orlop deck, where he and William Smith spent some of the next forenoon grinding quicksilver, hog's lard and mutton suet together to make blue ointment, he could hear Geoghegan practising in the nearby midshipmen's berth, playing scales, changing his reeds, and venturing upon some of the more remarkable flights open to a well-tempered oboe. The Bellona had a reasonably good-natured set of midshipmen and master's mates, a dozen of them, mostly the sons of friends and former shipmates; certainly the younger members of the berth showed no obvious signs of oppression, and although Geoghegan was probably the youngest there, just old enough to be admitted to the berth rather than entrusted to the gunner with the youngsters, he clearly never hesitated to play serious, difficult music there. This was the more curious because of his somewhat anomalous position: he had been borne on the books of several ships commanded by his father's friends or relatives, in order to gain nominal sea-time without actually going afloat—a fairly common practice, but one that brought the young gentlemen aboard with so little knowledge of their profession that they were something of a burden to their shipmates, often unpopular, sometimes cruelly-treated butts. Yet this was not the case with Geoghegan. 'Of course, he is a very good-looking boy,' observed Stephen. 'Perhaps that has something to do with it. One has an innate, wholly disinterested kindness for beauty.'
The ointment was now made and Smith carried off a suitable number of gallipots for their syphilitic patients: Stephen shut and double-locked the dispensary door (seamen were much given to dosing themselves) and hearing the main body of reefers leave their berth with a sound like that of a herd of mad cattle, he walked in.
'Good day, sir,' said Geoghegan, leaping up.
'And a very good day to you, Mr Geoghegan,' said Stephen. 'Please may I see your instrument again?'
It was a beautiful oboe, formed from the most elegant dark, dark wood; but neither praise of its appearance nor of its lovely tone seemed to give much pleasure, and Stephen returned to their earlier talk of Bantry Bay, the country round it, including the Reverend Mr Geoghegan's parish, and their common acquaintances. The boy was perfectly polite, perfectly well bred, but it was clear that he did not wish for any close contact at this moment nor any comfort for his evident anxiety. In the civilest way he was saying that he was not to be manipulated, nor to be made to be easy in his mind when he was not easy in his mind, however kind the intention.
'He is a respectable boy,' said Stephen, walking off, 'but I could wish he were not quite so tense. Were it not for some illogical and even perhaps superstitious reluctance—respect for innocence?—I should prescribe fifteen or even twenty drops of laudanum.' Laudanum, the alcoholic tincture of opium, a delightful tawny liquid that had floated Dr Maturin through many a bout of the most extreme anxiety and distress, though at a moral and spiritual cost that eventually became exorbitant: it was now replaced by moderate use of the Peruvian coca-leaf.
The boy was tenser still when he appeared at the door of the Captain's cabin, carrying his oboe in a green baize bag, as the last stroke of five bells in the afternoon watch was struck. The berth had done him proud. Not only was he as popular as a boy who was no seaman could very well be, but his appearance would reflect upon the credit of the after-cockpit as a whole,
including Callaghan and three other master's mates and that almost god-like figure William Reade, who had so often sailed with the Captain before, losing an arm in battle in the East Indies, and now his hair, having been very strongly brushed, was tied so tight behind that it stretched his features into a look of astonishment, while his face shone pink from an almost entirely superfluous shave; the brass buttons on his best blue coat outshone even those on his Captain's uniform, while the white patches on his collar, called by some quarterly accounts and by others the mark of Cain, would have put virgin snow to shame.
'There you are, Mr Geoghegan,' cried Jack. 'I am very. happy to see you. Come and have a glass of sherry.'
After the sherry they sat down to a dish of codlings caught over the side that morning, to a pair of roast fowls with bacon and a great many sausages, to a noble apple pie and to the best part of a Cheddar cheese. The midshipmen's berth usually dined at noon, and Geoghegan, after a hesitant beginning, laid into his food with a wolfish concentration, replying 'If you please, sir,' to any suggestion of more. 'The young gent has ate eleven potatoes,' said Killick to his mate, passing the empty dish. 'Go and see if the wardroom left any.'
At last, when the cloth had been drawn and the King's health drunk in a glass of port suited to a very young head, they took their coffee and ratafia biscuits (the sea-going equivalent of petits fours) in the great cabin, where the 'cello, the viola and the fiddle leaned by their respective music-stands, well lit by the great stern-window—a suffused grey, near-brilliance, with the ship standing west-south-west under reefed topsails, making little more than steerage-way on a gently rolling sea.
'Another cup, Mr Paisley?' asked Jack. 'Mr Geoghegan? Then in that case perhaps we should set to.'
They spread their scores, and as they did so Stephen remembered with some concern that in the F major quartet the opening notes were played by the oboe alone: but when, after the necessary squeaking and grunting as the stringed instruments tuned themselves, Jack smiled at Geoghegan and nodded, these same crucial notes came out clear and pure, with no over-emphasis—a beautiful round tone in which the strings joined almost at once. And almost at once they were a quartet, playing happily along with as nearly perfect an understanding as was possible on so short an acquaintance.
With scarcely a pause they swam through the elegant melancholy of the adagio, Jack Aubrey particularly distinguishing himself and Stephen booming nobly; but it was in the rondo that the oboe came wholly into its own, singing away with an exquisite gay delicacy infinitely enjoyed by all four. And to all four, in spite of the music before them, it seemed to last for an indefinite space before coming to the perfect simplicity of its end.
'Well done, well done indeed,' cried Jack, leaning forward and shaking Geoghegan's hand. 'What a glorious pipe you blow, upon my word and honour. I have rarely enjoyed music more. If ever, indeed.'
Geoghegan blushed extremely; but before he could answer there was an imperative knock at the door and Mr Edwards, the Captain's clerk, came in with an untidy, disparate sheaf of papers in his hand. 'Sir,' he said, 'here are the memorandums we were to send to the flag, just your rough notes. You said you would read them for me to copy fair. The boat is here—has been this half glass—and is growing outrageous.'
'By God,' cried Jack. 'It clean slipped my mind. Gentlemen, forgive me, I beg. But had we gone on, we could not possibly have done better: I thank you all very heartily indeed.'
They filed out, with proper acknowledgements and in due order of rank, Geoghegan standing back to let Stephen pass, looked at him with open affection, all constraint and tension gone; and with Edwards settled at a desk Jack began from his informal and often cryptic notes: 'Purser: provisions for nine weeks full, of all species except wine: of that only thirty-nine days. Master: one hundred and thirteen tons of water, beef very good, pork sometimes shrinks in the boiling, the rest of the provisions very good. In cutting up provisions, master's mate, bosun's mate, captain forecastle, captain tops, and quartermaster. Pretty well supplied with stores; rigging and sails in good order; two pair of main shrouds cut in the eyes. Gunner: eighteen rounds of powder filled: plenty of wads, forty rounds. Carpenter: hull in good state. Knee of the head supported by two cheeks. Masts and yards in good state. Pretty well stored . . .'
'That was a very glorious piece, the glorious piece of the world, indeed,' said Stephen as he and Geoghegan separated outside the wardroom—the purser had already gone forward.
'So it was, too,' said Geoghegan. 'And how I admired the Captain's double-stopping—yours too, sir. But I am glad it did not go on. It was perfect like that; and I was afraid that if we started again it might take a great while, and I should miss the last dog.'
'A particularly amiable creature, I make no doubt.'
'Oh, sir,' said Geoghegan, with that delicate kindness the young sometimes reserve for the old, ignorant, and stupid. 'I should have said watch. The last dog watch, the second of those short ones at the end of the day, you know. When we are going along under a very moderate sail, and there is nothing much to do, no possibility of all hands being called, we reefers whose watch is not on deck often play about aloft. We call it skylarking.'
'I have heard of it: indeed, I have not infrequently seen the phenomenon. Yet it is not invariably confined to the young and light-built. Captain Aubrey and Admiral Mitchel once raced to the topmost point of a vessel whose name escapes me, for a dozen of champagne.'
'Heavens, sir! Pray who won?'
'Faith, the Admiral said he did: and who is to contradict an admiral, a senior? Superiores priores, you know.'
'Yes, indeed, sir. But if you will excuse me now, sir, I must go below and stow my pipe and change my clothes. Old Dormer and I are to see which can touch the maintopgallant truck first.'
Geoghegan ran down the ladder and in the lightness of his heart he kicked both his best silver-buckled shoes far into the cockpit. Callaghan was the only other person in the berth: he was writing a letter by the light of a purser's dip, writing with close concentration to his young woman; but he looked up and asked how dinner in the cabin had gone. 'Oh, very well indeed, once I got started: codlings, of course, then a pair of huge enormous great prodigious fowls, capons, I think, and the Doctor kept carving me glorious great bits and passing sausages. I could not in decency say no. And then there was an apple pie the bigness of a moderate wheel: and cheese, of course.'
'What did you drink?'
'Sherry-wine, claret, and then port.' During his discourse Geoghegan had taken off and folded away all his good clothes, and now he was in a striped Guernsey shirt and old sailcloth trousers.
'Well, I hope you did not eat too much. You must take it easy at first. Many a reefer have I known throw up his dinner merely from topping it the nimble ape among the royals and topgallants too soon after a meal.'
The ships that blockaded Brest off Ushant or nearer inshore in the bay itself were so very often blown and battered by strong south-westers, often bringing rain, or by north and north-east winds which might allow the enemy to come out, therefore calling for the closest attention, that the ship's boys and young gentlemen, to say nothing of the more athletic officers, had little chance of skylarking; and when it came they made the most of it. Stephen Maturin, though very much a spectator aboard, and very much given to standing on the poop or quarterdeck of a healthy ship (in a sickly one he spent most of his time below) and there watching the various manoeuvres or, in times of relative idleness, the dancing on the forecastle and the skylarking, had rarely seen so numerous a gathering. Right forward there was a fiddler and a man with a tabor playing hornpipes for a close-packed group on the forecastle, where the more expert dancers carried out some very elaborate steps indeed, to the delight of their friends, who clapped hands in time; but what caught his eye more immediately was the number of boys. The Bellona carried fifty or more, officers' servants, apprentices to the gunner, bo'sun, carpenter or the like, and plain ship's boys, and nearly all of them were gathered either along the l
arboard gangway leading from the quarterdeck to the forecastle or were already aloft, tearing about among the rigging and sometimes making great swings from one part to another like gibbons, high, high above the deck. Some were racing, some were merely having fun, moving with wonderful ease and certainty. The midshipmen on the other hand—using the term in its widest sense from master's mate right down to first class volunteer: the 'young gentlemen' as a whole—kept to the starboard side, either on the quarterdeck itself, which was their right, or along the starboard gangway; and they too were spending much of their time high in the air apparently weightless except when they slid with enormous speed down a stay, landing with a thump. While Stephen stood there, a fat midshipman called Dormer, the boy that Geoghegan was to race, came down the main-topgallant backstay into the mainchains with such force that his knees buckled under him. Stephen helped him over the hammock-netting on to the deck and asked whether the friction did not scorch his hands. 'Not much, sir,' he replied with a pleasant confidence, 'because now I am a really hardened old salt, and I check the rush with my feet.' He showed his palms, and although they were much stained with tar there was no trace of a burn. 'Now, sir,' he said, 'I am going to make the great traverse.'
'I shall watch you with close attention,' said Stephen; and he certainly meant to do so. But there were such numbers of boys and young men (the Bellona had about six hundred people aboard) moving in every direction, up, down, side-ways and diagonally, often very fast, that he soon lost sight of Dormer—all the sooner since an ambiguous tern came over, together with two gannets.
Having fixed the tern (an immature Sandwich in a sad state of moult) he returned to his contemplation of the skylarkers, and after a while his earlier impression was confirmed: although the ship's boys kept to the larboard and the young gentlemen to the starboard, and although there was virtually no direct communication between them, there was nevertheless a tacit rivalry. Some uncommonly agile boy, often the bo'sun's servant, would perform an exceptional—and exceedingly dangerous—feat; and with nothing but looks of intelligence between the more expert reefers, their champion would do the same or better. He watched this for some time and quite suddenly he recognized young Geoghegan in the striped-Guernsey-shirted boy who was obviously doing his utmost to outpace Dormer on his way up the main topmast rigging.
The Yellow Admiral Page 14
