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The Sea and the Sand

Page 29

by Christopher Nicole


  ‘Well … that no man can say. There are peace talks going on, and we have checked their principal scheme … but their navy still blockades our coast, and I believe they are planning other invasions. We must wait and see.’

  ‘Then you will have to go to sea again?’

  He smiled and kissed her nose. ‘Is that likely? I have not actually been to sea for eighteen months. In fact, almost none of our ships have. I shall have to return to duty, I am sure of that. But not until I have spent a fortnight’s furlough here with you. And Felicity … my rank has been restored, with promise of promotion soon to come.’

  Her head moved back as she looked into his eyes. Then she released him and sat on the bed. ‘For the duration of the war?’

  He sat beside her, his hands dangling helplessly between his knees. ‘That is something I shall have to consider. We shall have to consider.’

  She turned her head to look at him. ‘Do you really mean that?’

  He opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

  She smiled, then sighed and leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. ‘It is your dream come true,’ she said. ‘I have been spoiled, having you here beside me for so long. But now … I want you to be all the things you should have been already, do all the things you should have done already, earn all the fame you should have earned already, had it not been for me, Toby.’

  ‘Really and truly?’

  She sighed. ‘No, not really and truly. But you must live your life. I shall always be here when you return home.’

  *

  But first, there was a fortnight in which they need do nothing but enjoy each other. They made love, and remembered, and made love, and laughed, rediscovering each other as if they were children. They went fishing, and made love in the bottom of the boat. They rode across to the Atlantic beaches and looked at the British men-of-war hulls down on the horizon, and made love on the sand.

  ‘You will have me pregnant,’ she warned.

  ‘Would that be so terrible?’ he asked.

  ‘I would prefer it did not happen,’ she said seriously. ‘I have given you three strong and healthy children. If possible, I would prefer to remain strong and healthy myself.’ She gave him one of those devastating looks. ‘Is that very wrong of me to wish?’

  ‘It is entirely right of you to wish,’ Toby said. Besides, he understood what she meant even if she had not put it into words: she had things to do with her own life, especially if he was going back to sea. But what things?

  She certainly wanted to talk about the future. ‘Now that Jonathan is dead,’ she said, ‘I am sole heiress to my father’s estate. And it is a tidy little fortune waiting over there, Toby. It would be senseless to allow it to rot away in England. I must get over there, as soon as this stupid war is over.’

  He had to agree that she was right on every count. The farm provided the McGanns with all they needed in the way of subsistence, and there was usually enough profit to enable them to live in some comfort. But times had changed over the generations since Harry and Elizabeth had settled here, happy just to be able to escape from the hurly burly of the world which had caused them so much unhappiness. Elizabeth, daughter in her time of a wealthy and refined man, had done her best … but both in the furnishing of the house and the clothes she wore there remained too much evidence of the homespun-acceptable certainly when Long Island had still been something of a frontier. But that no longer was true. Felicity brooded deeply every time she visited New York, where even during the war there was every evidence of a growing prosperity. She dreamed of the things she remembered from her own girlhood, both in England and the West Indies, wished for a harpsichord and a sewing machine, frills and furbelows for her gowns, new bonnets, store-made shoes for herself and the children, and an equipage which did not look like a farm cart because it had to double in that capacity.

  There was also the question of the children’s education. She dreamed of sending Stephen to an English public school, one of those very private establishments which made a habit of turning out the world’s leaders. And of course of marrying the girls into the best colonial families.

  All of which, to be implemented, required money — and there was not enough of that to be had. If the farm was as productive as ever, because of the war there was less of a market for surplus than usual. And if he was going to resume his career in the Navy, then additional help would be required as Father grew older, and as Stephen became preoccupied with other things, which Toby naturally hoped would also include a naval career. A ‘tidy fortune’ would come in very handy at this time, and he was not such a fool as to have any doubts about using his wife’s money for the family good.

  ‘But you will not sail until the war ends,’ he warned her. ‘Not all the money in the world is worth risking you, my dearest girl.’

  She pretended to pout. ‘I do believe you do not wish it ever to end, Toby McGann. At least, not until you have gained even more glory from it.’

  She was actually more than half right. He wanted to get to sea, one more time he told himself, and holding his proper rank. Just one more time. He was overjoyed when an official letter arrived from Crowninshield, informing him that he had been promoted first lieutenant, and far more important, that he had been given a command, the schooner Eagle, lying in Boston. Only a schooner, and mounting no more than six guns. But his very first command. He threw his hat in the air for joy.

  Felicity was less pleased. ‘I had hoped you would be here for Christmas,’ she said. It was only a month away.

  But she could see how happy he was, and kept her grumbling to a minimum. He left immediately, taking one of the farm horses to travel up the coast more quickly; he knew he could stable the horse in Boston, which he regarded almost as a second home, he had spent so much time there. And there was Constitution, still languishing in port.

  Stewart was delighted to see him. ‘I have been hearing so much about you, Toby,’ he said. ‘I but wish you could have been hearing something about me. Decatur now … you’ll know he got out with President?’

  ‘No,’ Toby said. ‘What news of him?’ Stewart shrugged. ‘Not a word. But you can be sure that wherever Stephen goes there the British will be confounded. We … well, we must just wait our opportunity to follow his example. What do you think of Eagle?’

  Toby would not confess his disappointment. The schooner lay close to the Constitution, about one quarter of the frigate’s size. This did not depress him, but the condition of his ship did. She had been allowed to deteriorate sadly during her months of idleness, her previous captain having been taken ill some time before and the ship left in the care of an extremely slovenly young lieutenant named Mowat.

  ‘Well, Mr Mowat,’ Toby said, having carried out a careful inspection of both vessel and men, his heart sinking with every step, ‘we are going to have to get to work. I will immediately arrange for the ship to be slipped. Meanwhile, as of this moment all liberty is cancelled, all men will remain on board, and all hands will fall to. I want those decks holystoned, that brightwork polished. I want the guns run out and in until they are moving freely. I want the capstan as well as the gun carriages greased. I want the canvas spread out for inspection. I want this ship ready to put to sea just as rapidly as it can be accomplished. I do not propose to remain in port beyond the end of December.’

  ‘With respect, sir,’ Mowat protested, ‘it is impossible to leave the port by sea. The British …’

  ‘Are there for us to fight, Mr Mowat, not to look at, or to be afraid of. Now get your people to work.’

  How he wished he had Barclay at his side to lick the crew into shape. It was necessary to do so himself, but as captain that earned him a reputation as a martinet, whereas someone from the lower deck would have been able to lead rather than drive. He did his best, himself stripping to the waist to tear out some rotten timbers found in the hull forward, but was aware that his men regarded him as something of a freak, especially as word of his chequered past had leaked out.
But none of them dared cross him; apart from his rank he towered over them and was capable of lifting weights it took two ordinary men to attempt. They grumbled, but so had the backwoodsmen on Lake Champlain. And they worked, as had the backwoodsmen. If he could turn them into as willing fighting seamen he would not have been wasting his time.

  As the snow began to fall he remembered more and more the previous winter in the wilderness above the Hudson, the difficulties with which they had been faced then — and the triumphant manner in which they had all been overcome. He wondered where Tom McDonough was now, and if he was thinking the same thought. And was then recalled to his present situation when on a misty December night, the Constitution quietly dropped her moorings and silently slipped through the islands. There could be no cheering at her departure, as that would have alerted the British, and Toby waited anxiously on deck until dawn. He heard some gunfire in the distance, but hardly more than a single exchange, and then nothing. It was not possible that Constitution could have been taken or sunk in a single broadside. So at least two American ships were at sea, and they were the two very best.

  How he longed to join them! But he suffered disappointment after disappointment, the biggest being the discovery, early in the New Year, that the schooner’s foremast had also been attacked by rot and would have to be replaced. This necessitated not only undoing much of the work already completed, but waiting on a new mast to be fashioned. January drifted into February, and the Eagle was still not yet ready to put to sea when the bells began to ring.

  Peace had actually been signed at Ghent back in December, but it had taken some two months for the news to cross the Atlantic in the winter gales. Two months in which a great deal had happened. For the Americans, there was the resounding triumph at New Orleans, where the British southern invasion force had been brought to a summary halt by a militia army commanded by General Andrew Jackson, who at the loss of seven men killed had shot down several hundred of the redcoats and driven them from the field.

  But for the Navy there was the doleful news that, again after the official signing of peace but unknown to all concerned, USS President had found herself in the midst of a British squadron and been forced to strike her colours. This had happened almost as soon as she had left port, and before she had been able to accomplish anything of note. So during the weeks she had been thought to be disrupting British shipping, her people had been prisoners of war. How that must have galled Decatur, Toby thought. Constitution, on the other hand, had covered herself with glory, as usual, and following the escape from Boston had finished the already-over war by sinking two British sloops.

  The Americans were jubilant, feeling that Jackson’s victory had more than atoned for their earlier defeats and disappointments, even if the peace treaty settled nothing, merely restored the status quo ante helium. Only the more thoughtful paused to consider that they had been hanging on by the skins of their teeth, and that the British had not had the time to develop fully the immense power they possessed. But all were agreed that the decisive battle of the entire conflict had been that of Lake Champlain, and that it had been the news that once again an attempted invasion of New England had ended in disaster which had made the British anxious for peace. Tom McDonough, and all his men, were the toasts of the country.

  The blockading squadron was promptly withdrawn from outside Boston, but Toby was now required to await orders from Washington as to his future duties. He could not imagine what they might be, with no English ships to attack, and felt a considerable degree of frustration that two months’ hard work should have suddenly counted for so little.

  To aggravate his mood, a week later a letter arrived from Felicity. ‘Dearest heart,’ she wrote. ‘You know how much I long to hold you in my arms, and indeed, to have you home. But I am informed that, despite the ending of the war, there is little chance of this happening for some months yet, and so I have sought and obtained a passage to Europe. Do not fret, I shall be travelling on an American vessel, the Dolphin out of Baltimore, and to a neutral port, although one which is allied to England, Lisbon. From thence there is a regular weekly packet to Southampton.

  ‘I should be there in a month, complete my business in another, and be back at Long Island long before the summer. Bringing with me, I hope, a fortune which will enable us to embark upon the second half of our lives with even more joy and happiness than we have known these past ten years.

  ‘Elizabeth is more than happy to look after the children for me, and she joins me in hoping that you may be able to pay them a visit some time in my absence. In any event, until I return, I beg of you to keep yourself safe and well. Your loving wife, Felicity McGann.’

  Toby sat for some minutes gazing at the letter. He had anticipated no such sudden decision, had supposed the matter of her journey would be discussed at length, and that he might be able to obtain leave to accompany her — certainly he would have found her a travelling companion. The thought of her going on her own … His immediate reaction was one of annoyance, even anger. Then he reflected that she had always been very much her own woman, by sheer force of circumstances, and that he had allowed himself to forget how she might well also have found life on the farm somewhat restricting. But obviously she had planned this step back in November, as he recalled their conversation. Again he grew angry.

  And yet, she was absolutely right in her prognostications of the future. For in the same post there was a letter from Crowninshield, reminding him that for all the ending of the war there was still a need for a United States Navy, and a navy at sea, and exhorting him to advise Washington of the very moment Eagle would be ready for sea. Well, she was ready for sea now, and Toby wrote back to say so. But clearly there was no possibility of his return home for several months, by which time Felicity would have completed her self-appointed mission.

  The new mast had been installed and tested, and now it was merely a matter of awaiting orders. But instead of a letter from Crowninshield, there arrived, to Toby’s great joy, Stephen Decatur himself.

  ‘I am to inspect your vessel,’ he said. Which he did, with great care and thoroughness. Toby had to wait until they were alone in the cabin to give vent to his feelings.

  ‘Stephen,’ he said, clasping his friend’s hands. ‘It is so very good to see you. I had supposed you were still languishing in some prison hulk on the Thames.’

  Decatur smiled. ‘It was a brief visit I paid to London, I am happy to say, as peace had already been signed.’ His expression grew sombre. ‘All those good’men, killed for no reason. But you, Toby … you have as usual covered yourself with glory.’

  ‘I suspect I was fortunate in those I served under.’

  ‘Ha! Then you will probably wish to pick and choose in the future. What would you say to serving under me?’

  ‘You, Stephen? Why, nothing would give me greater pleasure.’ Yet he could not help but look around him. ‘Would you believe that I have never taken this ship to sea?’

  Decatur laughed. ‘Oh, I do not intend to ask you to give up your first command, Toby. You see before you the latest commodore of the United States Navy.’

  Toby seized his hand to shake it. ‘My most hearty congratulations. And I am to be part of your squadron?’

  ‘Indeed. Save that I am to command ten ships. Squadron? Why, I would describe that as a fleet.’

  ‘I agree with you. A United States fleet. But … who are we going to fight?’

  ‘Aha! A very old acquaintance of yours. But Toby, what of that magnificent wife and those splendid children you possess? Will they let you tear yourself away?’

  ‘Of course. I am to resume my naval career, such as it is. Felicity is quite agreeable to that. Actually, she is herself at sea, and in Europe within another week, I should say. She has taken passage to Lisbon, and thence to London, to settle her late father’s affairs. So you see, as the children are in the good hands of my mother, I have little to keep me here for a while.’

  Decatur was looking grave. ‘Felicity ha
s gone to Lisbon, you say? When? On what ship?’

  ‘The Dolphin, out of Baltimore. I do not know her myself, but her home port seems sound enough. She left not two weeks ago. Why? Is it important?’

  ‘I hope not, old friend. By God, I hope not. This war we are to undertake, I hinted that it might stir your memory. We are bound for the Mediterranean.’

  ‘Not the Tripolitanians again?’

  ‘Amongst others. But they are the least. You’ll understand that during the war with Britain it was necessary to withdraw all our ships from the Mediterranean. Thus the deys came to the conclusion that our sun had set and began preying on our ships once more. The worst of the lot is the most powerful of them all, the Dey of Algiers. And I leave you to guess who is standing at his elbow and urging him on, and indeed, it is said, commands his fleet.’

  ‘Mohammed ben Idris,’ Toby muttered. Decatur nodded. ‘The same. Well, we naturally have made our representations for redress. And this scoundrel has had the temerity to expel our consul in Algiers with every expression of contempt, and then has declared war on us.’

  ‘Exactly as Tripoli did when he had control there. And so I suppose we are to commence a blockade of Algiers for the next three weary years,’ Toby said bitterly. ‘Until Idris names some fabulous ransom, which will then be paid to enable us to crawl home with our tails between our legs.’

  ‘Not this time,’ Decatur said. ‘I am under orders to engage in no negotiations, Toby. Nor will there be any ransom paid. Congress is finally determined to settle this international piracy and terrorism by the only way it can truly be extirpated; our success against the British seems to have given the gentlemen in Washington some backbone. My dealings with the Algerians are to be carried out at the muzzle of a gun.’ Toby stared at him. ‘Can that be true?’

  ‘I have my orders, Toby. I am to demand the immediate release of all American hostages, the handing over of the guilty for punishment — and I intend that Mohammed ben Idris shall be amongst them — guarantees that there will be no further attacks on American shipping or citizens … or I raze Algiers to the ground.’

 

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