The response that surfaced, to say the allusion was quite poetic, as well as something he would welcome, given his loathing of Devenow, had to be bitten back. Besides, Barclay was moving again and still venting his spleen, forcing his clerk to hurry to keep up.
‘I want that harlot aboard my ship before the sun goes down and if it lacks gentility to get her there, so be it. I have a good mind to confine her to the cable tier as well. I doubt she would much like the rats nibbling at her toes, though they might decline to contaminate themselves, for even rats must have—’
The word Barclay was seeking would not come to him, which had him cursing in a near incomprehensible manner, while his more knowledgeable clerk thought it unwise to advise a choice. From what the captain was saying things had gone from bad to worse, leaving an abduction his preferred option. Having seen the building she occupied, indeed if she had returned there, Gherson set his mind to planning how to get to it and fulfil such a task which would include ten minutes alone with the victim.
A full hour of trudging left Barclay’s blue coat rendered near grey with dust and Gherson exhausted. The captain’s face was that, too, only the streaks of running sweat creating any sight of the red and furious countenance below. The diatribe had shifted from bile to self-pity and had included for Gherson some acknowledgment, grudging but profound, that his advice in the past had been sound. If Barclay did not go so far, alas, to cast himself as a fool for ignoring it, he did label himself that for ever becoming wedded to such an ingrate.
Devenow was sat on a bollard and behind and below him was the barge, fully crewed by men inured to waiting and to refusing, even if it was reluctantly, the invitations from the local whores who had gathered to tease them into stepping ashore for a bout of pleasure. The servant standing stopped the oarsmen crouching and his bellow sent the trollops away.
Their captain was approaching and he would have them smart even if his mood was a good one. Devenow was the first to realise it was as black as the pit of hell and a sharp word to look lively rendered the barge crew rigid. The man might be despised, and he returned their feelings in full measure but if the captain’s mood were so dire he felt the need to let on, then it must be dark indeed.
‘Don’t just stand there, oaf, get aboard.’
‘Look at the state of your coat, Your Honour,’ Devenow protested; if he was useless as a servant that did not dent his attempts to appear as one.
The glare that got had the brute moving at catlike speed and he jumped into the boat with such disregard the coxswain swore at him for near capsizing them, a complaint that received a raised single finger in response, while the words Barclay spoke to Gherson were quietly delivered once Devenow was out of hearing.
‘I wish to look at the place you found this morning, so will row to the Hamilton residence, then along the coastline.’
‘Sir.’
Barclay dropped down with an equal disregard for the safety of the cutter, his good arm taken by Devenow, but that occasioned no rebuke. The coxswain glared at Gherson to warn him to be careful, which was stupid; surely he knew the clerk to be excessively cautious of his person.
Barclay growled his commands as soon as the oarsmen could dip their sticks and the cutter fairly raced away from the quayside only to veer sharply right once they were clear of the anchored shipping. All aboard were curious but inured to naval life and the vagaries of officers too wise to even hint at their wonder. They stared blank-faced as they hauled and lifted, an attitude maintained when they were ordered to ease off.
The route from the Palazzo Sessa touched the shoreline at several points and Barclay sat in silence studying it until they opened the bay in which lay the place occupied by Emily. Gherson was wise enough to whisper to his employer, indicating what he should be looking at, the small house and the adjoining countryside examined in a long silence that had the clerk worried.
He was looking at Barclay’s face and the range of emotions that swept across it, which spoke of anger, disappointment and most of all self-pity, none of which was of much use. He employed a slight cough to break the spell.
Barclay did not respond for several seconds, then came a nod and the sharp command. ‘Coxswain, HMS Semele.’
The order was obeyed instantly, the cutter fairly racing towards the seventy-four. There, the ship’s officers and marines were lined up to receive their commanding officer with all due ceremony, only to find themselves ignored. Barclay ran up the gangway and right past the receiving line without so much as a nod, Devenow forced to trot to keep up.
In the cabin he tried to remove the dust-covered coat with gentility as Barclay did his best to fling it off and he made his way to his desk, demanding quill and paper. Once that was delivered by Gherson, whatever was intended was quickly composed before being untidily sanded and handed to his clerk, who in the meantime had fetched wax, a seal and a lantern with a lit candle.
That applied, Barclay handed it over. ‘Take this to Hamilton.’
‘Am I allowed to enquire what it contains, sir?’
‘It is a demand that he send my wife aboard immediately and I have reminded him, not that he requires it, that the laws of our country oblige him to respond in the correct manner.’
If Barclay was grinding his teeth as he spoke, and still clearly in a foul state of mind, Gherson was all crafty consideration, he having a very shrewd idea of what Barclay planned to do. ‘He will not take kindly to such a tone, sir.’
‘Do you think I give a damn about that?’
‘You may do as you wish, sir, but I am obliged to say that alerting the ambassador to your continued intention to have your wife join you, which this note will achieve, is a bad idea and it may lead to her being moved to somewhere other than that beach residence, out of your reach and unknown to us. I take it that you are determined that when you sail from Naples she will be on board?’
‘Bound and gagged if need be. The ungrateful sow will be lucky if she does not feel the whip.’
It had always been a struggle to get Ralph Barclay to think clearly when he was angry, and as a man too often in that state, doubly so. He could fight his ship and command his crew with seeming ease and mental clarity, yet a single female and her refusal to obey rendered him partially blind.
‘If it were me, sir—’
‘Damn your presumption, Gherson!’
‘I would sail away and make a very public display of doing so.’
‘Without her?’
The notion was so shocking to him it quieted his mood and that allowed Gherson to continue. ‘The Hamiltons and your wife might be on their guard for some kind of response, even perhaps a violent one, but if we sail away—’
‘That will be lowered,’ Barclay interjected.
‘It may be that your wife will return to the Palazzo Sessa because she feels safe; perhaps she will choose to remain in that seashore residence until she is certain that you have departed, for she has no idea we have knowledge of it. If my thinking is correct, sir, you have already discerned that the strand on which that residence sits is highly suitable for the landing from one of our ship’s boats of a party of seamen.’
‘True, Gherson, and if Hamilton declines his duty that is something I now look forward to leading personally, even if it ends up in that damned Palazzo.’
‘That, perhaps, would also be unwise,’ Gherson protested as the dream he had been harbouring came under threat.
‘I cannot see why, man, there will no longer be a requirement for subterfuge.’
‘The ship’s officers, sir?’
‘I will employ the gambit I proposed earlier, regarding a party of deserters so that the men I lead will have no idea of the real purpose.’
Barclay had gone from bile through bemusement to a sense of purpose and now his face, still streaked with the dust of Naples, was close to being animate with enthusiasm. Gherson saw beyond what he had just said to a fact his employer would be reluctant to acknowledge. His mode of command required that he construct
an excuse; there would be no body of hands aboard willing, out of loyalty, to aid him if they knew the truth.
‘Then I can only wish you joy, sir,’ Gherson lied.
‘You can do more than that, Gherson, you can come along. Why would I deprive you of the opportunity you were so keen previously to undertake?’
There was no relating the real reason but Gherson felt somewhat more secure now that Barclay had calmed down, enough to re-ask the question to which he had not received an answer. Barclay fell silent, his chin dropping onto his chest and he thought about the reply.
‘I tell you this because it will be nigh on impossible to keep hidden over time, but relate this to anyone else without it has already become obvious and it will not be threats that I issue, but a scarring so profound you will never forget it.’
Said quietly, Gherson took that warning much more seriously than the bellicose raging to which he was accustomed. ‘Sir.’
‘Pearce has got her with child.’
The captain sat in silent contemplation while his clerk reflected on that, mentally damning John Pearce for taking something Gherson had set his mind on.
‘But I see your suggestion as a sound one. Now send for Mr Palmer so that I can give him orders to weigh.’
The departure of HMS Semele was carried out with the accustomed banging of signal guns, the sound and smoke of which were observed from the balcony of the Palazzo Sessa.
‘Well, Emily, it seems you have prevailed.’
‘Have I? Why, then, do I not feel content?’
‘I know you are troubled but it may be I can advise you, for I have been where you are now.’
Emma Hamilton took her arm and led her back inside, away from the sight of her husband’s ship crowding on sail to leave behind it the Bay of Naples. Once seated, Emily listened as she was told the tale of a girl, young, foolish and besotted, left with a child by a lover who declined to accept he was the father.
‘You do not face that, for which you should be very grateful.’
‘You had the child?’
‘I did and left it with my grandmother.’
‘Who raised no objections?’ Emily asked.
‘I suspect you think your family would not do likewise?’
‘I am near to certain the disgrace would come close to killing my parents.’
‘Which only goes to establish how different are our backgrounds. Though it is never openly spoken of, no one in my home village of Ness will have any doubts as to who is the mother. But as to disgrace? Let us say it is too common to be scandalous.’
‘And you care for her?’
‘Sir William’s nephew took responsibility for the monies required for raising her and her education.’
‘That was kind.’
‘Not entirely, but it was generous.’ Emma Hamilton had never cast down her eyes in Emily’s presence but she did so now. ‘He did it because he thought himself the father.’
Emily did not dare state the obvious; if he thought that he must have had grounds. Perhaps all those rumours had some foundation, perhaps Emma Hamilton had been a— Emily checked herself; she would not allow the word ‘whore’ to be attached to someone who had been so sympathetic.
‘I am sorry.’
‘You will move back to the Palazzo,’ her hostess said, firmly.
‘In a day or two, if you do not mind. I find the seashore peaceful and it aids me in contemplation, which, with what has happened today, I am much in need of.’
‘As you wish, but I would ask you to vacate it if the Chevalier wishes to go sea bathing.’
By the time Emily got back to the residence the sun was sinking in the west, while the sails of HMS Semele were no longer visible even from the hill behind the house. With a profound sense of relief mixed with confusion Emily went for an evening stroll along the strand, for the dilemma of what to do had not been resolved, the only option now removed that she should make up with her husband.
His outburst had shocked her. Emily had not been naïve enough to think that he was going to take the news calmly; she expected fury and if she put herself in her husband’s place that mood was justified. There had been a brief thought that he might relent from his first reaction but that was now laid to rest.
He had set sail but she could not believe the matter would end there. The man she had married was not of that stamp. If she ever set foot in England he would claim the child and there was nothing she could do to stop him, while she was equally sure her family would disown her and decline to offer support.
So where would it all end? It was rumoured that Emma Hamilton had begun life as a roadside coal seller, or at least she had been that as a child. It was a sobering thought that having been born into better circumstances their roles might be reversed. Where Emma had risen, Emily might sink.
‘It’s getting dark, ma’am, perhaps best to go indoors.’
The quiet voice surprised Emily, so deep in contemplation she had no idea the Irishman was close by. ‘You followed me, Michael, even although I did not ask you?’
‘John-boy set me to look after you, and sure that I will do.’
‘The others?’
‘Charlie and Rufus have gone into the city.’
There was no requirement to ask what for and Emily did not do so; they would likely not return before the morning but she felt the need to acknowledge that Michael had done the right thing. Being stuck out here with her had not been an unalloyed joy.
‘I think we are safe now. You saw my husband’s ship sail off, did you not? If you too wish to go to Naples I cannot see how I could object.’
‘That ship is captained by the man who took me up from the Pelican Tavern, and John-boy with me. The sight of its sails disappearing might assure you, but I beg you will forgive me if it leaves me less at ease, so happen I will wait for another night.’
Emily hooked her arm into his. ‘You’re a good man, Michael.’
That got a grin from the huge Irishman. ‘Holy Mary, there’s not many would agree with that.’
‘It is possible for the whole world to be wrong.’
‘Then I pray you will pay them no mind in the matter which troubles you.’
‘How I wish it could be so.’
‘Best step out or, like the wise men, we’ll need starlight to find the doorway.’
Aboard HMS Semele the party Ralph Barclay required was assembled. Palmer, as well as his other officers, had fallen for the story of naval deserters occupying a seaside house in the bay along from the ambassadorial residence, the tale embellished with the fact that Sir William Hamilton had let news of their presence slip out while being unaware of the consequences.
‘And, gentlemen, we have a duty, do we not, to redress this?’
The assent was unanimous; desertion was a crime to set every wearer of a blue coat on edge. It was frequent and dangerous enough to threaten – as was mutiny – the whole fabric of the fleet in which they served. Not one of their senior officers would forgive that every effort was not bent on recapture. Had not the navy sent a frigate all the way to the South Seas to fetch back for punishment the Bounty mutineers?
Excited faces seemed less animated when their captain told them he would personally lead the raid; they were not to be included, for it promised to be ferocious.
‘But I wish you to pick for me the hands I will take along. No milksops or men who will have sympathy. I want only those to whom what these swabs have done is hateful.’
In that there was no shortage; deserters were no more loved ’tween decks than they were on the quarterdeck, so Barclay was sure the men he would lead were willing and ready to employ violence.
‘You know, Gherson, I have not engaged in this since that night you were fished out of the Thames.’
‘Not for me a happy memory, sir.’
‘I daresay not. You know what I will miss? The presence of the swine Pearce. You cannot imagine how much I would love to break his skull.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
&nbs
p; ‘Afore you go breaking Pearce’s crown or chucking him overboard, have a think on it, lads.’
‘What, Cole? You was hard for it afore I spotted him. Is it cold feet you’re getting?’
‘It will be a cold body you will have, Fred Brewer, if you don’t have a care. What I is saying is this. It ain’t as easy as you are now getting worked up for. There be considerations.’
‘Like us being stuck aboard this barky,’ said Cephas Danvers.
‘Hit the spot, Cephas. Old Ironsides might be short on her due but she is still home to more’n seven hundred souls and where is the place where mischief can be done without some swab catching sight?’
‘It don’t answer either, Cole, for it leaves us aboard and there might be blood staining the deck, not handy with a bluecoat missing.’
That was responded to with a sly smile. ‘But what if we could use Pearce to get redress?’
‘Don’t follow,’ whispered Dan Holder.
‘Nowt new in that Dan, you bein’ the slow one.’
‘Let’s hear yer thinkin’, Cephas insisted.
‘Say we could get him to order up a boat crewed by us? Need a knife close to his vitals, mind.’
‘To get to where?’ Brewer complained, scouring the faces. ‘You’se has asked around as have I. The nearest spot is an island.’
‘So the place we goes to revictual is the only hope.’
‘An’ not much of one,’ Brewer protested.
It had been depressing for them all to hear where Italy lay. Never having been real deep sea sailors the wide oceans were a mystery. From fishing they had graduated to cross-Channel smuggling. They knew the waters between the Low Countries and Kent like the back of their hands, every shoal and sandbar; beyond that were dragons, even if it was common knowledge that places like America were a six-week sail away at best and sometimes a three-month voyage if the winds failed.
‘Let’s reckon we can do no better than this Leghorn place.’
The Perils of Command Page 15
