The Fortune of War (38 page)

Broke walked in. 'Good morning, Philip,' said Jack, 'I was just thinking of you, and the splendid show of gunnery at quarters.'

'I am glad you were pleased,' said Broke. 'There is no man whose opinion I value more. But the question is, was it up to the Constitution's standard?'

'Why, as to that,' said Jack, 'I cannot speak exactly for their rate of firing, since I did not have my watch in hand, but I know it was pretty fast - I reckoned something short of two minutes for their first broadsides, and they did better afterwards. Not as fast as Shannon at any time - perhaps in the ratio of three to four or even five - but pretty fast; and most uncommon true. They hit us very, very hard, you know. Yet accuracy for accuracy, I still think you may have the advantage; your men were firing with an awkward, uneven pitch and roll, whereas Constitution had a much more regular sea, right on the beam most of the time. Upon the whole, I should say Shannon would have outgunned Constitution; though it would have been a near-run thing, with their twenty-fourpounders. As for Chesapeake, I know no more than you; I never saw Lawrence do more than run his guns in and out, dumb-show. But he did that briskly enough, and he certainly sank poor Peacock off the Demerara river.'

'Well,' said Broke, 'I hope to put it to the trial today. We are on our last tun of water; I cannot stay; and I mean to send in to tell him so.' Broke's steward coughed discreetly at the door - what a contrast with Killick's way of bursting straight in, his coarse 'Wittles is up' and his jerk of the chin or thumb or both - and Broke said, 'First breakfast is ready when you are, Jack. I have had mine. And as I know you prefer coffee, I have ordered you a pot: I hope it will be to your liking.'

It was not. Philip's steward might be as discreet as a cat, but Jack would have given all his discretion and pretty ways for a pot of Killick's coffee. He had not had a decent cup since the Java. The Americans had been kind, polite, hospitable, and their sailors thorough seamen, but they had the strangest notion of coffee: a thin, thin brew

- a man might drink himself into a dropsy before the stuff raised his spirits even half a degree. Strange people. Their country was coming closer, he observed as he looked through the scuttle: pouring out another cup of the poor washy draught, he carried it out on to the quarterdeck.

The day was dawning fast, a day full of promise, with a steady breeze in the north-west, and the Shannon was standing in for her morning look at the Chesapeake, perhaps her last look, from what Philip had said. All the ritual of washing was over, and the ship presented a beautiful appearance of perfectly scrubbed wood, exactly coiled ropes, yards squared by the lifts and braces, masts and sheets gleaming with fresh slush; it would be an hour at least before the captain of the afterguard called for sweepers. Not a spit-and-polish ship - worn, indeed, and shabby, particularly in her sails - but clean and eminently serviceable. There was no brass that he could see, apart from the resplendent bell forward, the lam-bent quarterdeck six-pounder, and the sights all along; the busy deck-full of hands were doing something more directly connected with war than making metal shine. Some chipped corroded round-shot, others made foxes, paunches and seizings, and the forward pumps wheezed round, discharging a thin stream over the side. The hen-coops were already up. The proud cock crowed, clapping his wings in the first rays of the sun, and a hen cried out that she had laid an egg, an egg, an egg!

Philip himself was talking to an American ship-master, one of his prisoners; and over beyond him a score of men, a large party, stood dubiously round the carronades while some of their number slowly pushed them in and out under the guidance of two grizzled quarter-gunners with pigtails down to their waists. The Shannons knew that their Captain did not like the name of the Lord to be taken in vain and that he detested coarse expressions: the Captain was present, well within earshot; and the course of instruction had a somewhat unearthly air, with its supernatural patience and mild persuasion.

'Good morning, Mr Watt,' said Jack to the first lieutenant. 'Is there any sign of Doctor Maturin yet?'

'Good morning, sir,' said Watt, leaning his good ear towards him. 'I am entirely to your way of thinking.'

'I am glad of that,' said Jack, and in a rather louder voice, 'Have you seen anything of Doctor Maturin this morning?'

'No, sir. But there is cocoa waiting for him in the gunroom.'

'That will set him up, I am sure. Pray, what are those men by the carronades? They scarcely look like Shannons.'

'They are Irish labourers, sir We took them out of a Halifax privateer that had taken them from an American privateer that had taken them from a Waterford brig. The poor souls hardly knew where they were, but when we told them it was the Shannon and gave them some grog, they seemed pleased, and screeched out in their heathen way. The Captain let these fellows enter, though we find it very hard to teach them their duty, seeing that only three of them speak any English. But I hope they will be useful if it comes to boarding: they have terrible battles among themselves - you see those three with broken heads -298 and they understand the use of pikes and axes. Doctor Maturin, sir, good morning to you. I trust you found your cocoa hot?'

'I did, sir, and return all due thanks,' said Stephen, looking wistfully at Jack's cup: neither he nor Aubrey could love the morning until they had drunk a pint or so of true, freshly-roasted and freshly-ground boiling coffee.

The cock crowed again, and several of the Irishmen cried, 'Mac na h'Oighe slan.'

'What do they say?' asked Jack, turning to Stephen.

'Hail to the Virgin's Son,' said Stephen. 'We say that in Ireland, when we hear the first cockcrow of the day, so that if we meet a sudden death before the day is out, we may also meet with grace.'

'They must keep that until we rig church,' said Watt. 'We cannot have Christian practices on weekdays, nor Christian precautions.'

'How is Mrs Villiers?' asked Jack.

'Somewhat better, I thank you,' said Stephen. 'Will I look at your cup, now? It has the curious pattern in its side.'

'Infamous hogwash,' murmured Jack, as the first lieutenant moved away to leeward on his Captain's approach.

'Listen, Jack,' said Stephen in the same low voice, 'Diana says that sea-captains can marry people. Is it true?'

Jack nodded, but no more, for Broke was at hand, politely asking for news of Mrs Villiers. Stephen said that the most distressing symptoms were over, that a tonic draught, such as coffee of triple or even quadruple strength, followed by a small bowl of arrowroot gruel, reasonably slab, would set her up by the afternoon. 'And then, sir,' he added, 'you would oblige me infinitely by marrying us, if you have the leisure.'

Captain Broke paused for a moment: was this a strangely-timed pleasantry? Judging from the Doctor's demeanour and his pale, determined face, it was not. Should he wish him joy of the occasion? Perhaps, in view of Jack's silence and Maturin's cool, matter-of-fact, unfestive manner, that might be inappropriate. He remembered his own wedding-day and the desperate feeling of being caught on a leeshore in a gale of wind, unable to claw off, tide setting hard against him, anchors coming home. He said, 'I should be very happy, sir. But I have never performed the manoeuvre -that is, the ceremony - and I am not sure of the forms nor of the extent of my powers. You will allow me to consult the Printed Instructions, and let you know how far I may be of service to you and the lady.' Stephen bowed and walked off. Broke said, 'Cousin Jack, a word with you.' And in the privacy of the after-cabin he went on, 'Is your friend serious? He looked grave enough, in all conscience; but surely he is a Romanist, is he not? He must know that even if I can perform this marriage it is meaningless to those of his persuasion. Why not wait until we are in Halifax, where a priest can do his business for him?'

'Oh, he is perfectly serious,' said Jack. 'He has wanted to marry her ever since the peace - she is Sophie's first cousin, you know.'

'But why the hurry? Don't he know we shall be in port before the week is out?'

'That is the very point, I take it,' said Jack. 'I gather there is some question about her nationality; she might possibly be considered an enemy alien, and a marriage on board would settle the matter out of hand.'

'I see. I see. You have never married anyone aboard ship, Jack, I suppose?'

'Not I. But I am fairly sure it can be done. The captain of a King's ship can do close on anything for a man except hang him without a court-martial.'

'Well, I shall look into the Instructions. But first I should like you to read this letter. It is addressed to Captain Lawrence. I have sent in several messages by word of mouth, saying I should like to meet him ship to ship, but from what you say about him I imagine they were either not delivered or that his orders kept him in port. Now it seems to me that the people ashore must know you are gone off by this, with Shannon as your obvious refuge; and since they were so eager to keep you they might be equally eager to get you back again and therefore more willing to send Chesapeake to sea. In any case, a written challenge has so very much more weight than anything verbal at second-hand. So with these two considerations in mind, I mean to send my letter in by an American prisoner, a respectable man called Slocum who lives in these parts. His boat is alongside and he has undertaken to deliver it. But you know Lawrence; you know what kind of letter is likely to have an effect. Please read it and tell me what you think. I have tried to put it in a plain straightforward manner - no rhetoric, no flourishes - the kind of challenge I should like myself. But I do not know if I have succeeded and I hope you will tell me without the least disguise.'

Jack took the letter:

His Britannic Majesty's Ship Shannon, off Boston,

Sir, June 1813 As the Chesapeake appears now ready for sea,

I request you will do me the favour to meet the Shannon with her, ship to ship, to try the fortune of our respective flags. To an officer of your character, it requires some apology for proceeding to further particulars. Be assured, Sir, that it is not from any doubt I can entertain of your wishing to close with my proposals, but merely to provide an answer to any objection which might be made, and very reasonably, upon the chance of our receiving unfair support.

After the diligent attention we had paid to Commodore Rodgers; the pains I took to detach all force but the Shannon and Tenedos to such a distance, that they could not possibly join in any action fought in sight of the Capes; and various verbal messages which had been sent into Boston to that effect, we were much disappointed to find the commodore had eluded us by sailing the first chance, after the prevailing easterly winds had obliged us to keep an offing from the, coast. He, perhaps, wished for some stronger assurance of a fair meeting. I am, therefore, induced to address you more particularly, and to assure you that what I write I pledge my honour to perform to the utmost of my power.

The Shannon mounts 24 guns upon her broadside, and one light boat-gun; 18-pounders on her maindeck, and 32-pound carronades on her quarterdeck and forecastle; and is manned with a complement of 300 men and boys (a large proportion of the latter), besides 30 seamen, boys, and passengers, who were taken out of recaptured vessels lately. I am thus minute, because a report has prevailed in some of the Boston papers, that we had 150 men additional sent us from La Hogue, which really never was the case. La Hogue is now at Halifax for provisions, and I will send all other ships beyond the power of interfering with us, and meet you wherever it is most agreeable to you, within the limits of the undermentioned rendezvous, viz: - From 6 to 10 leagues east of Cape Cod Lighthouse, from 8 to 10 leagues east of Cape Anne Light, on Cashe's Ledge, in lat. 43 N. or at any bearing and distance you please to fix off the South Breakers of Nantucket, or the Shoal in St George's Bank.

If you will favour me with any plan of signals or telegraph, I will warn you (if sailing under this promise), should any of my friends be too nigh, or anywhere in sight, until I can detach them out of my way: or I would sail with you under a flag of truce to any place you think safest from our cruisers, hauling it down when fair to begin hostilities.

You must, Sir, be aware that my proposals are highly advantageous to you, as you cannot proceed to sea singly in the Chesapeake, without imminent risk of being crushed by the superior force of the numerous British squadrons which are now abroad, where all your efforts, in case of a rencontre, would, however gallant, be perfectly hopeless. I entreat you, Sir, not to imagine that I am urged by mere personal vanity to the wish of meeting the Chesapeake; or that I depend only upon your personal ambition for your acceding to this invitation: we both have nobler motives. You will feel it as a compliment if I say, that the result of our meeting may be the most grateful service I can render to my country; and I doubt not that you, equally confident of success, will feel convinced that it is only by repeated triumphs in even combat that your little navy can now hope to console your country for the loss of that trade it cannot protect. Favour me with a speedy reply. We are short of provisions and water, and cannot stay long here. I have the honour to be,

Sir, your obedient humble servant

P.B.V. Broke,

Capt. of HBM's Ship Shannon.

Jack skipped the postscript apart from the last words 'choose your terms - but let us meet' and handed back the letter. 'No,' he said, 'I think that is perfectly in order for a man like Lawrence. For my part I should have left out the fling about even combats and little navy - he knows all that as well as you or I - but I think it will certainly bring him out, unless he is under absolute orders to stay in port.'

'Very well,' said Broke, 'then I shall send it.' He stepped to the door, but then recollecting himself he called, 'Pass the word for my clerk.'

A small aged man in dusty black clothes and an ill-fitting tie-wig came in and said in a harsh shrill old voice, 'Is it to be re-wrote?'

'No, Mr Dunn,' said Broke. 'Captain Aubrey is so good as to approve it as it stands.'