Book 7 - The Surgeon's Mate

by Patrick O'Brian

  The next shot pitched well over the Ariel, sending up its plume a cable's length to larboard. Jack took the telescope and trained it on the battery. Five whiffs of smoke that drifted away down the Sound; five fountains in the sea, three beyond, two short; and the long sullen roar. 'Tolerably good practice,' he observed. 'They are increasing their charge.'

  The pilot came aft and said, 'Shall I put her into Helsingborg, sir?'

  'No,' said Jack, glancing at the Swedish port a little abaft the larboard beam. 'Carry on down the Sound, Mr Pellworm. You may shave the Swedish shore as close as you please, however.' And to Stephen he said, 'Tossing a two-hundred-pound bombshell at a moving object is a chancy business at this range, you know; a hit or miss affair; nothing like lobbing them into a fortification, or an anchored fleet. And they have just as much chance of hitting us if we put back as if we stand on—indeed, rather more, since we should be going from them in a right line. Mr Jagiello, good morning to you. The Danes are busy, as you see.'

  'I wish they may burst,' said Jagiello. 'Good morning, sir. Doctor, your servant.'

  A group of three shells, directly in the Ariel's path, sent up three distinct columns, instantly shattered into a confused mass of flying water as the charges exploded under the surface.

  'Down with your helm,' called Jack, and the Ariel began to perform a languid jig, swerving, letting fly her sheets or hauling aft, diminishing and increasing her gentle pace: never by very much, but at least enough to make sure that every fresh discharge would have to be the result of a separate calculation on the part of the Danes.

  'Mr Hyde,' he said to the first lieutenant, pointing to a number of large fish that lay belly-up where the shells had exploded, 'let a net be put over the side. We may as well profit by the situation.'

  Slowly, slowly, the nearer sea moved by; the shore seemed quite motionless. Sometimes the courses and the topsails flapped, with no thrust in them; and the hands on the forecastle could be heard whistling quietly for a breeze. They had not much time for brooding, however: at seven bells hammocks were piped up, at eight the men were piped to breakfast, and the pleasant smell of frying fish wafted about the deck.

  'Were you ever in Elsinore, Mr Jagiello?' asked Jack.

  'Oh, many a time, sir,' said Jagiello. 'I know it well. I believe I could show you Hamlet's grave from here.'

  'I was really wondering whether they were ten- or thirteen-inch mortars on the upper terrace,' said Jack, 'but I should be very happy to see Hamlet's grave as well.'

  'Both ten and thirteen, sir. And if you go a little to the right from the farthest turret, there are some trees: and among those trees there is the grave. You can just make out the rocks.'

  'So there he lies,' said Jack, his telescope levelled. 'Well, well: we must all come to it. But it was a capital piece, capital. I never laughed so much in my life.'

  'A capital piece indeed,' said Stephen, 'and I doubt I could have done much better myself. But, do you know, I have never in my own mind classed it among the comedies.

  Pray did you read it recently?'

  'I never read it at all,' said Jack. 'That is to say, not right through. No: I did something better than that—I acted in it. There, the upper terrace fires. I was a midshipman at the time.'

  'What part did you play?'

  Jack did not answer at once: he was watching for the fall, counting the seconds. At the twenty-eighth it came, well pitched up but wide to starboard. 'Port your helm, there,' he called, and then went on, 'I was one of the sexton's mates. There were seventeen of us, and we had real earth to dig, brought from shore; it played Old Harry with the deck, but by God it was worth it. Lord, how we laughed! The carpenter was the sexton, and instead of going on in that tedious way about whose grave it was he made remarks about the ship's company. I was Ophelia too: that is to say, one of the Ophelias.'

  Another salvo tore up the sea, true in line this time, but short: and as he watched Jack caught the flash of a single mortar. Again the line was true and he saw the shell soar to its height, soar until it was no more than a small black ball against the pale sky, then curve down, racing down, growing fast, to burst well astern. 'Judging from the height,' he said, 'I fancy they have reached their full elevation and their full charge.'

  The next salvo confirmed his judgment; the last hundred yards had carried them beyond the battery's malice; and he suggested that they too should have breakfast. 'The smell of that fish is more than I can bear,' he said privately to Stephen.

  At the breakfast-table, with a fine view of the narrows and the now silent Elsinore, Stephen said, 'So you were Ophelia in your youth, Captain Aubrey.'

  'A part of Ophelia. But in this case the part was greater than the whole: I was called back three times, and the other fellows were not called back at all, even the one that was drowned in a green dress with sprigs. Three times, upon my honour!'

  'How did the poor young lady come to be divided up?'

  'Why, there was only one midshipman in the flagship pretty enough for a girl, but his voice was broke and he could not keep in tune neither; so for the part where she has to sing, I put on the dress and piped up with my back to the audience. But neither of us was going to be drowned and buried in real earth, Admiral or no Admiral, so that part fell to a youngster who could not defend himself; and that made three of us, do you see.' Jack smiled, his mind going back to the West Indies, where the performance had taken place; and after a while he sang:

  'Young men will do't

  An they come to't

  By Cock they are to blame.

  Yes, alas; and it all ended unhappy, as I recall.'

  'So it did, too,' said Stephen, 'the pity of the world. I believe I shall go upstairs again, if there is no more coffee left. I should be sorry to miss any of the Baltic's wonders, they being, as you might say, some compensation for all the grief there is by land.'

  More eiders he saw, and later in the day, off the island of Saltholm, some very curious sea-duck that he could not identify, that he had no time to identify, for the breeze had freshened steadily, and now the Ariel was running at eight knots. It was vexing, but on the other hand without this fine turn of speed she would never have reached Falsterbo with enough light for a perfect view of a white-tailed eagle, an enormous bird in full adult plumage that plucked a fish from the sea not twenty yards from the Ariel's stern; and then again her pace meant that no flotilla of gunboats, grim but slow, would attempt her.

  'I am glad to hear it,' he said, when Jack told him that the ship was now well out of their range; that she was now steering to run between Bornholm and the main; and that if this breeze freshened still further, which seemed likely, they should join the Admiral in excellent time. 'I am glad to hear it, because after today's excitement I should like a long quiet night to collect my ideas; for who knows what tomorrow may bring? Bearded swans, the phoenix himself, maybe. I shall turn in at once.'

  No swans of any kind, no phoenix: a low sky, scudding cloud, a short choppy grey sea, and the Ariel tearing along under close-reefed topsails. As it increased in force the wind veered into the west and then north of west, cutting up a sea that gave her a strong corkscrewing motion, while at the same time she pitched violently at short, very short intervals, working so that she spewed her oakum from the knightheads to the bitts. Stephen's stomach had withstood the Atlantic, the Pacific, and the Indian oceans, but the Baltic very nearly overcame him. He was not actually sick, but he exhibited a cold, copious salivation, a dislike for jovial company, facetiousness or merriment, and an intolerance of the notion of food. It was probably that nasty fish of yesterday, he thought; bursten-bellied fish might very well convey all manner of noxious principles; only a fool would eat them. And only a fool would go to sea, exposing his frame to the falling damps. He kept the deck for the most part of the forenoon. There it was not so much a question of falling as of horizontal damps, for every time the Ariel plunged her head into a sea sheets of spray and even solid water swept aft, piercing his armour at every joint,
so that in time he was wet as well as cold, wet through and through.

  'Perhaps I shall go and see my colleague and beg ten drops of the sulphureous ether; or failing that, a little acid of sulphur, dulcified,' he said to himself. The man is a very mere sot, but at least he has a medicine-chest, and he turned to find a quarterdeck messenger to show him the way, a jolly pink child who wore a winged cap such being the Ariel's whim. As they went below he heard a cry of 'Sail ho! A cat two points on the starboard bow, but he never paused. They had sighted another sail earlier in the day, a Dane for sure said the officers who had cruised the Baltic all last summer in the Ariel; but with infinite reluctance Jack had let her run; his business was far too urgent for him to be chasing prizes, and it would be the same with this one. In any case Stephen was not in the least interested in a prize; all he wanted was sulphureous ether.

  Alas, he found the mere sot in much the same state as himself, only worse: speechless, careless of the world, pale green, unshaven, malodorous; and what was far more regrettable he had drunk up all the ships sulphureous ether, and had spilt the sulphuric acid. It was now eating its way through his counterpane, but he did not mind: the sooner it ate its way through the bottom of the ship the better, he whispered.

  Stephen left him in disgust, and turning on the boy who had shown him the way to Mr Grahams cabin he said 'See what comes of your heathenish superstitious custom of whistling: your own surgeon sick, for shame. Let the Captain be told that I am retiring to meditate, and that I beg to be excused from dining.'

  He had not taken breakfast; he did not dine; he did not share the Captain's tea; and when at last the Ariel shot into the calm waters of Carlscrona and saluted the Admiral he felt cold, glum, and weak; so weak indeed that when Ariel's gig was alongside the flagship and he himself clambering awkwardly aboard, the manrope slipped from his hand and he fell, dropping like a sack. But Jack had prepared for this: his old friend was no seaman, never had been and never would be a seaman; from the beginning of their acquaintance he had fallen from motionless ships and spars, motionless boats; and more than once he had even plunged between ship and boat when going up the side. Captain Aubrey had therefore given orders that the gig should hook on to the flagship as tight as a limpet and that two powerful seamen should stand at the foot of the accommodation-ladder 'in case anyone should take a tumble'. These men, who knew very well what o'clock it was, caught Dr Maturin's frail body as easily as a corded hammock—it weighed little more—and propelled him up the side again, urging him 'to clap on with both hands, sir—never say die—one more heave and we're home, safe and dry.'

  The Captain of the Fleet received them: received them coldly, observing that the Admiral was not at leisure, and that if Ariel were to be attached to the Baltic squadron, he would thank Captain Aubrey to wear an ensign of the proper colour. Sir James had recently been promoted vice-admiral of the red, which any man might have discovered by taking a little trouble. The reception was roughly what Jack had expected ever since he heard that Manby was Captain of the Fleet: in the course of his career, and particularly during the fierier, more undisciplined early stages of it, he had made many solid, reliable friends and some solid, reliable enemies, Manby being one of them.'

  Yet this disagreeable impression did not last for long. A few minutes later a number of Swedish officers left the ship and the Admiral's secretary, a grave young parson, showed Jack and Stephen into the great cabin, a noble room, although at present it looked more like a busy office than part of a man-of-war—files everywhere, a desk covered with papers, and behind the desk a pale Admiral, himself more like a jaded, work-worn minister than a sea-officer.

  He was obviously tired, but he greeted them cordially. 'It must be years since we met, Captain Aubrey,' he said, having congratulated Jack on his rapid passage.

  'The last time was at Gibraltar, sir, just after your splendid victory in the Gut,' said Jack.

  'Yes, yes,' said Sir James. 'The Lord was good to us that day.'

  Stephen had been a spectator of that bloody affair: he thought the violent death of two thousand Frenchmen and Spaniards an odd proof of the Lord's goodness, but he had known other able men with the Admiral's view of divine Providence. During the brief interval while Jack delivered his dispatches before introducing him, he studied Sir James's face: grave, heavy-lidded eyes, a distinguished, earnest face, not much given to merriment. He knew Sir James's reputation as a blue-light Admiral, a friend to tracts and psalms, but he had known men of the Book prove most effectual men of the sword as well and when the Admiral turned to him and he caught his intelligent, penetrating, politely attentive look he felt his heart rise: this man was no fool.

  'Allow me to name Dr Maturin, sir, who also brings you a communication from the Admiralty,' said Jack. 'Sir James Saumarez.'

  'I am very happy to meet Dr Maturin,' said the Admiral. 'I had been half expecting you, sir, and I believe I know what your letter contains. If you will forgive me, I will read it at once. Will you take a little refreshment? I always drink a glass or two of wine at this time, and take a biscuit. My brother Richard recommends it; I believe you know him, sir?'—this with a bow to Stephen.

  He rang his bell; the wine appeared on the instant, and having served the others he retired to his desk with his glass, his dispatches and the letter. Dick Saumarez: yes, of course Stephen knew him, though he had not made the connection, a surgeon, a tolerably good physiologist, though obstinate and wrong-headed about the ligature of the external iliac in the case of aneurism of the femoral: Stephen thoroughly approved of his recommendation, however. The wine was champagne, a fine fruity champagne, not too cold, and it went down very gratefully with a biscuit: he felt his weakness recede, his mind grow sharper, less gloomy, more decisive. He reflected upon the medicinal use of alcohol. He also reflected—for the dispatch was long—on Jack's expression: it was respectful, naturally enough, for not only was a vice-admiral a very much greater man than a post-captain, but Jack also entertained a sincere regard for Sir James as a man and as a most capable, resolute officer; it also had a slight resemblance to Captain Aubrey's church-going face, with just a touch of sanctimoniousness or rather of primness, a look that sat uneasily in that red, weather-beaten, open, candid, habitually cheerful face. It was as though he were himself determined to follow the advice he had given before they set out across the harbour: 'Do not get drunk or talk bawdy or blaspheme or even swear when you are aboard the flag, Stephen: the Admiral is very particular, and it will cost you a guinea every time you take the Lord's name in vain.'

  Jack, for his part, reflected upon the Admiral. Lord, how the poor man had aged. It was not surprising. Even as a commodore of a small squadron Jack had been cruelly harassed by paperwork, by the responsibility for very important decisions whose execution lay in others' hands, by the problems of cooperation with the army and with civilian authorities, by a thousand questions that had nothing to do with the running or the fighting of his ship: for the Commander-in-Chief in the Baltic it must be very, very much worse.

  'It is much as I had expected,' said the Admiral, laying the letter on the dispatch. 'So you are poor Mr Ponsich's successor, sir? How I pray you may be more successful. Is Captain Aubrey aware of the nature of your mission?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'Then I have no doubt that you would both like to see Mr Thornton, my political adviser. As far as I know the situation on Grimsholm has not changed, but he has all the most recent information.'

  Stephen knew Thornton well, a Foreign Office man with a flair for intelligence and a singular grasp of detail. They greeted one another with the odd ambiguous civility that had become second nature to both, betraying nothing but some degree of social acquaintance, even in spite of the present circumstances.

  'Dr Maturin has come out to take Señor Ponsich's place,' said the Admiral, 'and I have just told him that I know of no change in the position on Grimsholm; but I speak without the book, and I am sure you can make a more authoritative statement.'

&nbs
p; 'On the island itself there has been no material change,' said Thornton. 'We have two recent reports of a certain amount of discontent, caused by a lack of wine and tobacco, but it seems that Colonel d'Ullastret has the situation well in hand: he is popular with the garrison, and he has strengthened his authority by sending three more officers away to Danzig. But on the mainland the French take the matter very seriously indeed: a most reliable source tells us that in spite of all his difficulties Oudinot means to replace the Catalans by a mixed brigade of Poles, Saxons and French; and while these are being assembled and hurried to the coast he is sending a General Mercier, together with the former commandant, Colonel Ligier, to take control. They are to bring d'Ullastret the Légion d'honneur and the offer of an independent command in Italy: on Tuesday they reached Hollenstein on their way to Gobau. It is not impossible that they have already taken ship. In the meantime all supplies for Grimsholm have been cut off, both from Pomerania and Denmark. Apart from these reports I have nothing new except for a more exactly detailed account of d'Ullastret's forces and the disposition of his guns. He has started to excavate a new battery to sweep the approaches from the mainland.'

  He handed Stephen the list of units, territorial units whose names were as familiar to Stephen as his own: San Feliu, Lloret de Mar, Palafrugell, Tossa, San Pere Pescador for the sea, Empurdá for the plain, Vich, Mollo, Ripoll and many more for the mountain. There were the names of their officers too, many of them equally familiar. He mused for a time, while Jack and the Admiral studied the chart of the waters around Grimsholm, a chart with recent soundings taken from a Danish pilot, or talked to Thornton about numbers, provisions, sources of supply.

  In an expectant pause he said, 'It appears to me that this is a situation where we must risk all at one throw, and do so at once. There is no time for deliberation. I suggest that I should be landed on the island as soon as possible; certainly before this General Mercier arrives, if he is not already there. If once I can get ashore, I feel reasonably confident of success. But I cannot think that a man-of-war is the best conveyance: many of the soldiers on the island are sea-Catalans, and they would recognize her at once, whatever her colours or disguise; above all since, as I understand, the Ariel has often appeared in the Baltic. They would blow her, or any boat belonging to her, out of the water. No: I should prefer to go in a Danzig or Danish vessel ostensibly bringing supplies—nay, bringing supplies in fact, for if it were loaded with the wine and tobacco that the garrison have lacked so long my task would be sensibly lighter. No doubt, sir, you have a suitable prize?'