A Battle Won

by Sean Thomas Russell

  ‘Mr Wickham. Your gun seems to have run afoul of Corsica.’

  ‘Yes, sir. We were pulling it over these rocks by means of a wooden bridge when the bridge collapsed. We shall have it all put to rights in a few moments.’

  Indeed, men could be seen already bearing wood up the slope, and the gun was being readied to sling as soon as a tripod could be firmly erected above the irregular slope. Two hours Hayden spent seeing the gun remounted on its remade sledge, and guided over the rocks, everything managed to a nicety.

  It was, by then, thoroughly dark.

  And out of this darkness came a familiar voice. ‘I have wagered all my savings that you shall not be thwarted in your efforts by anything so minor as a mountain. After all, it is only a small one, as these things go.’

  Hayden turned to find Hawthorne grinning at him in the torchlight.

  ‘Mr Hawthorne!’ Hayden said, genuinely happy to see the marine. ‘How is it you are here?’

  ‘You have surely been too busy to notice, but your ship lies anchored in the bay beyond Mortella Point.’

  ‘The Themis?’

  ‘None other. I asked Mr Archer’s leave to come ashore and protect my investment. If these guns are not perched atop some mountain by the day after tomorrow, I shall be pauperized, and my children after me.’

  ‘You have a very strong back, Mr Hawthorne, which makes you doubly welcome. How fare our crew and officers? Is our new lieutenant finding his way, do you think?’

  ‘Ransome, sir?’

  ‘Ransome?’

  The marine lieutenant laughed. ‘Yes, the poor man is named William Albert Ransome. William Albert Ransome the second, we have discovered. Other than his impressive appelation, he appears to be an excellent officer, if a little eccentric.’

  ‘And he is eccentric in what way?’

  ‘He has some very odd beliefs, Captain. Transmutation of the species is one of his several hobby horses. He told us all at dinner, this two nights past, that ships would one day sail without wind and that the sailors’ arts would be confined to pulling levers and steering, though reading a chart and navigation I doubt will go out of fashion. A very peculiar sort of man, but we have all taken a liking to him just as men always do the village idiot.’

  Hayden was very anxious, suddenly, to see his ship, and, a few moments later, he and Hawthorne were striding along the beach towards the tower on Mortella Point. Hardly more than an hour saw them boarding the Themis, which rode to her anchor on a calm sea.

  The officer of the watch was Gould, who greeted Hayden with genuine affection, and perhaps a little relief. It made Hayden realize that Gould was yet not confident of his place on the ship and was happy to see, back aboard, the officer who first supported him.

  Mr Barthe met Hayden as he descended to his cabin.

  ‘Captain Hayden, sir,’ the sailing master began, ‘have you set your guns upon the hilltops?’

  ‘Not yet, Mr Barthe. I hope you have not been wagering, as well,’ Hayden teased. ‘You know Mrs Barthe’s feelings on this count.’

  Barthe, whose passion for gaming had all but ruined his family in the past, looked suddenly chagrined, and he cast a resentful look at Hawthorne. ‘You needn’t worry, Captain Hayden,’ Barthe offered, a little abashed, ‘I will not fall back into my old ways. I am quite determined.’

  A sense of disquiet crept over Hayden – perhaps it was the fact that Barthe did not deny that he had been gambling, but Hayden did not want to embarrass the sailing master by pursuing this further with others present. Barthe had finally freed himself of debt as a result of the prize money earned on their last cruise; to see him take his family back into those straitened circumstances would distress Hayden more than a little, not to mention that gambling was not officially permitted aboard ships of the Royal Navy. Hawthorne, Hayden assumed, had been jesting about his own wagers.

  Mr Archer appeared, and he and Barthe informed him of all events aboard the Themis since he had departed. As they spoke, Griffiths announced himself at the door of Hayden’s cabin and was invited in. Medical matters were quickly dispensed with, and port was produced, the officers all pleased to find themselves back in one cabin. It occurred to Hayden to tell the gathering that he considered himself fortunate to have such excellent officers and companions, which they all drank to most heartily.

  ‘We have not told you about our recently departed parson,’ Hawthorne said, breaking into a grin.

  ‘Is Mr Smosh no longer with us?’

  ‘Most happily, he is still aboard, but Dr Worthing… there is another story.’

  Laughter and shaking of heads all around as the gathered men waited for Hawthorne to continue.

  ‘Our dearly departed parson had not been aboard Majestic a week when he ran afoul of his new captain – Pool. Letters were sent off to Lord Hood – by both Worthing and Pool, Worthing asking that his captain be replaced for incompetence, and Pool begging that Hood relieve him of this vexatious man of God.’ A finger pointed at the deck-head. ‘We have all of this from a friend of Ransome, who is a lieutenant aboard Majestic. Lord Hood, however, has refused to honour either request, and has informed both gentlemen not to aggravate him more with such petty matters.’ Hawthorne’s smile grew even larger. ‘I only regret that I am not allowed to observe these proceedings more closely that I might extract the fullest measure of contentment from every exchange.’

  ‘If you were observing it that closely, Mr Hawthorne,’ Barthe informed him, ‘you would be marine lieutenant aboard Majestic… and I do not think that would provide you with such “contentment”.’

  ‘Lord preserve me from that.’

  There was a moment of silence – there being, perhaps, so much to say that no one knew where next to proceed.

  At that moment the new lieutenant arrived and was introduced. He was by manner and address unmistakably from a better family than anyone aboard save Wickham. Although he was not remarkably handsome in any way, he was a pleasant-looking young man of perhaps twenty years, with auburn hair, pale skin and uneven teeth that somehow formed a disarming smile.

  As soon as he had been introduced he looked at Hayden rather closely in the lamplight. ‘You do have differently coloured eyes!’ he blurted, to much laughter. Ransome looked around, embarrassed. ‘I am sorry, Captain. I believed I was being practised upon when they told me that you had one blue eye and one green.’

  ‘No, I am afraid you were being told the truth. Would you join us in some port?’

  ‘It would be an honour.’

  Conversation strayed a bit, as though it could not find its wind.

  ‘I understand, Captain Hayden,’ Ransome said after a moment, ‘that you have a gift for discovering the French and bringing them to action.’

  Hayden laughed. ‘Now there you have been practised upon. And, to be honest, I think of getting into action as being rather bad luck.’ Hayden wondered what was being said about him in his absence.

  ‘You do not think of it in that manner at all,’ Griffiths interjected. ‘I have never known a man so pleased by the prospect of action.’

  ‘We are all pleased to do what we joined His Majesty’s navy to do,’ Hayden protested, ‘engage our enemies. But I believe the lucky captains are the ones who never seem to have an opportunity to engage the enemy. Think how seldom they must write home to a family to inform them their son or husband or father has departed this life. I cannot tell you how much I should like to be relieved of that particular duty.’

  ‘It is odd, is it not,’ Barthe observed thoughtfully, ‘how some captains do always seem to be in some kind of action or another, while others can go a whole war and never catch sight of a French ship.’

  ‘It cannot simply be a matter of luck,’ Ransome said, looking around, as though asking for agreement.

  ‘In truth, Lieutenant,’ Hayden said, ‘I think it can be attributed to precisely that: chance and nothing more.’

  ‘But not in your case, Captain,’ Hawthorne protested, suddenly serious. �
��You understand the enemy better than anyone else as a result of having lived among them. Perhaps it is not cognizance on your part, but, instinctively, you know what the French will do, where they will be, even. You understand the French mind.’

  ‘Oh, Mr Hawthorne,’ Hayden protested. ‘I know where the French will be at mealtimes – at table – but, otherwise, where a French ship will be is as predictable as where an English ship will be. Measure tide, wind and the proximity of threats and perils; couple those with some contemplation of the enemy’s intent and you will know as much about the French mind as do I.’

  ‘Protest all you like, Captain,’ Hawthorne stated, ‘but you knew the French frigate was signalling a ship over the horizon, while Pool and Bradley did not – which cost Bradley his life. You knew the French frigate and seventy-four were lurking out in the fog, and just how to draw them out – which led to the seventy-four’s destruction. You may protest, Captain, but we all know better.’

  The others nodded heads, which disconcerted Hayden, for they were certainly attributing abilities to him that he did not possess.

  Hayden turned to Ransome. ‘How are you adjusting to life aboard a frigate? A little different from Victory, I should think.’ This obvious change of subject made his companions all smile a bit too knowingly.

  ‘I am finding it much to my liking, Captain Hayden. Do you think it possible that we shall again be sent on a cruise?’

  ‘The intentions of the admiralty are a mystery to me, Lieutenant. I was sent here to deliver the Themis to Lord Hood so that he might find her a captain. It surprises me, yet, that he has not done so.’

  ‘Then you are under the command of Lord Hood?’ Ransome enquired. ‘When he spoke with me, I was given the impression that you were not…’

  ‘No one wishes to claim the Themis, it appears. I fear, at times, that we shall spend the war sailing about with neither orders nor purpose, shunted from one admiral to another, turned away from port after port.’ Hayden had meant this in jest, but his words silenced the gathering and distress surfaced in every face – every face but Ransome’s.

  The new lieutenant actually brightened with pleasure. ‘Well, if we are without orders, I suppose we might consider ourselves to be privateers – in all but name.’ He rubbed his hands together comically. ‘Think of the prizes that await us.’

  This made the others laugh and a toast was drunk to becoming privateers.

  The gathering broke up soon after but before he took himself back to shore, Hayden wanted to have a word, privately, with some of his officers, beginning with his senior lieutenant.

  ‘It is true, sir, what you said.’ Archer appeared a bit dismayed. ‘Lord Hood doesn’t seem to have duties for us, even though, I am informed, he has written frequently to the Admiralty requesting frigates. I was ordered to anchor here and offer support – to whom was never made clear.’

  Hayden felt as though he were falling, his stomach ballooning up. The Mediterranean was a massive theatre; surely Hood had employment for any number of frigates. To leave the Themis adrift seemed more than peculiar.

  ‘What is in the mind of Lord Hood, I cannot tell,’ Hayden responded. ‘But surely he will have some duty for us shortly. He must.’

  Archer did not appear convinced, but nodded rather hopelessly.

  The last officer to be spoken with was the doctor. Though the Mediterranean sun had darkened his flour-pale complexion, Griffiths still appeared frail and unwell. Hayden worried that the doctor had gone back to his duties too soon but had not yet recovered enough to execute them. Enquiries after his health Griffiths brushed aside, claiming that he recovered apace and that Hayden need not concern himself. But Hayden was concerned and resolved to have a word with Ariss about the doctor at the first opportunity.

  The medical condition of the crew Griffiths reported as good. Almost everyone had made a full recovery from the influenza, and, apart from a mild bowel disorder which had passed through the crew the previous week, the men were hale. He did, however, have more to say about one man, and this was not of a medical nature. ‘He has shown a distinct interest in our recent prizes and the amount of prize money we might realize from them,’ Griffiths reported, speaking of their new lieutenant. ‘We learned that Hood had been trying to place him in a frigate for some months, believing that this would be a great boon to his education as an officer, but he has always managed to make some excuse or argument that spared him this fate. Likewise, he was not in favour of joining the Themis… until he learned of our recent prizes. It appears that our new lieutenant has a passion for money that is barely controlled and poorly disguised. His family was attempting to marry him to a suitable fortune in London this past year, but apparently this was being effectuated rather too obviously and the suitable fortunes withdrew. Avarice, of course, is hardly uncommon, but I came to my senses in this matter a day ago. Do you know the name Samuel Albert Ransome? No? Well, he was once an extraordinarily wealthy man, but an untimely investment in the South Seas Trading Company brought him to a complete and humiliating ruin. He died not long after, and it was widely suspected, though his family vigorously denied it, that it was by his own hand. Lieutenant Albert Ransome is this unfortunate man’s grandson.’ The doctor shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘That is the first part of the story. Since arriving at Corsica but a day ago, he has been much engaged in a… certain enterprise in which he has embroiled a number of crew members. It seems that a rumour has been circulated among the men of the army that a certain Captain Hayden, a brash and rather arrogant young officer, told the Navy that though they might not be capable of carrying guns to the hilltops certainly he could do it. This rumour engendered no little resentment among the army men, and was followed by a rash of wagering with some of the officers of this very ship. Lieutenant Ransome’s confederate in this is none other than our sailing master – a previously reformed gamester. It seems that Ransome goes about lighting the flame of resentment among the army men, and then Mr Barthe happens along some time later pretending to be somewhat unworldly, and suggests a friendly wager. I am quite certain they have taken on gambling obligations beyond their ability to discharge, should your enterprise fail.’

  ‘Bloody fools!’ Hayden spat out. ‘Clearly they had not been ashore and seen the countryside we struggle with before they began this lunacy. So, now my failure will see the ruin of Mrs Barthe and her lovely daughters? I shall roast Mr Barthe alive.’

  ‘Let us hope that none of these army officers gain an understanding that they have been played for fools, for it will be Mr Barthe forced to walk out and I do not think he will survive it. I note that Ransome has arranged matters so that it was not he who made the wagers, so Barthe will bear all responsibility for them.’

  ‘Perhaps it is Ransome I should roast alive. And this is the lieutenant Hood has sent me? For a brief moment I believed the admiral’s acquaintance with my father disposed him to favour me.’ Hayden shook his head as though to clear it of illusions. ‘Of all people, I should have known better.’

  As he was being rowed ashore, Hayden found his spirits noticeably lowered. He had imagined that, finally, a patron had been found in the service, and one very highly placed. And what had Hood done, but saddle him with a scheming lieutenant out to make his fortune at any cost. Hayden himself was not unfamiliar with ambition and with a desire to improve one’s material circumstances, but he would not stoop to duping soldiers to do it! If his task was not already difficult enough, now he had two of his senior officers breaking regulations. Ransome he did not care about. The man could pay the price for his folly, but Barthe had supported Hayden from almost the beginning – even under the tyrannical Hart – he did not want to see the man and his family ruined – again – and it frustrated him no end that he should be forced to discipline one of his most loyal supporters – but discipline the pair he must.

  But, in truth, the feeling that he had misunderstood Lord Hood’s intentions unsettled him as much as Barthe’s gambling. In some strange way he fel
t humiliated by this and he could not make the feeling go away.

  Seventeen

  Four hours’ sleep was all the hands were allowed, and Hayden even less. The blocks intended to haul the guns were of such size that a single man could not lift one. The ropes were of compatible diameter. To bear them, a large party of hands carried them over their shoulders, as though they had all been manacled in a line, and held fast to cables fashioned by giants.

  The bosun and his crew were kept busy splicing rope and positioning the blocks.

  ‘I’d not bet my pay that she’ll pass through the block and make the turn, sir,’ Germain reported to Hayden. He sat upon a stone, fid in hand, working slack out of the drawing-splice. ‘I worked she down as much as I could, Captain. But look…’ He pushed a section up a few inches with both hands, presenting it to Hayden. ‘She’s like a pregnant constrictor snake, sir.’

  ‘If it will not pass, we will clap on a stopper, unmake it, pass it through and make it again.’

  The bosun nodded, but did not look pleased at this prospect.

  Up the slope above them, parties had begun clearing away the bush and moving away any rocks that could be prised up and shifted. That left any number of rocks too great to be moved, many larger than a ship’s boat.

  By sunrise the rope was ready to be carried up to the high block, which had been rigged to a massive stone by a strap. Men were sent up the slope until a hundred stood evenly spaced, and the rope was started at the bottom by a party that carried the end to the first man, then the second and so on. When the end had reached to the top, the men began to haul in concert, the bosun standing halfway up the slope with a speaking trumpet. ‘Heave!’ he hollered. ‘HEAVE!’

  Ten times the men heaved, and then they rested. Then ten more. Any place where the rope passed over a rough corner of stone the bosun’s mates rigged a mat to reduce chafe.

  The rope had to be fastened by one end at the top, run down the slope and through the block attached to the sledge, then up and through the top block. The fall streamed down the slope, and it was upon this that the men would haul.