Epilogue
The sixth month cruise ended at last, seeing the ‘Thetis’ battling wintery weather in a return to Portsmouth. They had taken another three slaving vessels, though one other had got away.
“The world is at peace, and many good men who need the money are being beached,” said William, to his crew. “I, for one, am going to volunteer to stand down, and I will put in an offer for the ‘Thetis.’ What the rest of you do is up to you, but I am going to bargain to keep such of my crew as wish to stay, and discharge the rest legally, since most of you should have enough prize money to live frugally on the proceeds if you invest in the funds, especially those who have been with us since the ‘Thrush.’ It has been a privilege to sail with you all, and it has been fun. But unless the Admiralty has Particular Orders for us, I’m planning on giving everyone a month’s leave. We shan’t make it in time for Christmas, but we can have a late Christmas with our families. Those who have nowhere else to go are welcome to stay on board. I am hoping we might have some of our prize money through.”
“Free cheers for ve capting!” yelled Jeb Walden. William was given three hearty cheers, and the men began singing ‘Hearts of Oak.’ And they were still singing as they dropped anchor in Portsmouth harbour, to the stares of those on the other ships.
William put in a proposal to resign his commission and purchase the ‘Thetis’ for commercial endeavour, and was told, unofficially, that this would cause no problems. About two thirds of his crew wanted to muster out; but William was touched that the rest wished to stay with him.
“You gave us an ‘ome,” said Cruft, who had been given leave by William first thing, to collect his children.
Several of the others decided to combine to buy the ‘John and Betsy’ as a fishing smack, and go back to the work they knew before being pressed.
“You’ll want to muster out, of course, Hiram, and return to being a merchant seaman,” said William.
“Well, I was considering staying as your sailing master,” said Gubbins.
“Oh? Well, whilst I was a naval captain, I had to accept such non-commissioned officers as were given to me, and your knowledge of how the ship sailed was invaluable. However, I think I know as much about the capabilities of the ‘Thetis’ as anyone, so I can let you go. Amos Finch may well have a ship for you, as you have sailed with him before, and I hope that is so. If not, you have independent means from the prize money taken through the risks you grumble at me having taken, and by the skills of the mere boy you always seem to want to treat me as. I hope it sticks in your craw that all your wealth comes from me continually ignoring your advice. I don’t like you, Hiram, and nor do my crew, and though I’d be loath to fire you if you were destitute, you are anything but. And I don’t want you.”
“I… but, but, I have only ever tried to point out how your youth and optimism might cause you to make a mistake,” said Gubbins.
“Mr. Gubbins,” said William, “I have been at sea since I was a child of eleven years old, and I have been being trained to be an officer all that time. Making mistakes in the Royal Navy is a deadly business, and those of us who have faced the possibility of dying as adults since we were small children have learned a responsibility which is impossible for someone who has not been through it to understand. You have a few years more experience than I do, but not as many as you seem to assume, and nor has your experience been with a warship. Your advice I have often welcomed, where it has not been combined with an assumption which comes through in your tone that I should obey you because you know better. Very often, you do not know better. You are a dreary fellow, and you drag down the spirits of the quarterdeck, and I don’t think you even understand why Scully and I laugh and joke when about to go into battle.”
“Frivolous, I call it, and dangerous to play down the risk!” burst out Gubbins.
“Exactly; you miss the whole point which is to relax the crew so that they perform better for not being on edge, knowing that their officers have calculated the risk to a nicety. I don’t suppose you will ever understand, however, which is why I am ordering you to muster out and resume a life as a merchant captain.”
“Very well, sir,” said Gubbins. “I wish you the joy of your insolent crew.”
“Thank you,” said William. “I like them that way.”
He was glad to see Gubbins go; it had seemed wrong not to take on someone who had known Amelia as a child, but the man had been getting worse. And now, William could be shot of him. It felt very liberating.
“Will, am I indentured to the Navy, or to you?” asked Thomas Stackfield.
“Technically, I suppose, the Navy, but I’m not letting you go,” said William. “The lads and lasses aboard ship are far better equipped to face the world with your services, and I won’t deprive them of it.”
He would lose some youngsters; the Cosgrove brothers wanted to be career officers, and Seth Porkins had a place waiting on ‘Endeavour’. Mr. Lord regretfully said that he must ask his parents. Colin had no intention of asking his parents; and Emma was unofficially adopted by William and Amelia anyway. They would lose their marines, too. Ziv was a career marine, and his men went with him loyally. Colin said a slightly emotive goodbye to Michael Ashe, to whom he had drawn close; Michael could buy a cornetcy in any but the most fashionable of regiments, if he wished, but he had become close to Sergeant Wilson, and an older brother to Wilson’s son, Roger, and had been offered a home with them. He leaped at it, even though it was a social step down.
William himself was glad to see his family, but even more glad that the houses bestowed upon him and on his mother by his father-in-law were two doors apart. He took his four poachers and Frid Percival home as well as Colin and Emma, and let his brother Sam stay with him while he decided if he wanted to work with William, or join another ship. They ended up with four of the ship’s boys as well, Pip, Tom, Ned, and Aeneas.
“I ought to spend my leave at home,” said Colin. “I want to see Hetta, anyway, even if I don’t think much of the rest. I bet if Papa read about our actions taking Peter Snow the first time, he’d assume it was some other midshipman named Prescott.”
“He’s a fool not to appreciate you,” said William.
“Should I take Kwasi?” wondered Colin.
“For sure; a man needs a valet,” said William.
“You don’t,” said Colin.
“Oh, I have Jeb and Taff,” said William. “And, frankly, with you and John as officers, my poachers, Adou, and a handful of others, I don’t need any more.”
“Well, if I come back with another little boy, it’ll be Hetta,” said Colin. “It’s a pity Lizzie is so prissy or she could marry John, or Frid, and keep it all in the family. She’s pretty old, after all, she must be nearly sixteen.”
“I wrote to my parents’ choice of bride and got a letter back which almost shook with hysterics,” said Frid, cheerfully. “And said she wouldn’t marry me if I was the last person alive, which is good. I just felt I should apologise for not putting right the pressgang which took me, which is the way I explained Jeb giving me a knockout draught.”
“Well, it could have happened,” said Jeb, unashamed. “I want to go to Essex and see the lovely Mary Hicksworth, now you’ve learned me… taught me… to speak so beautiful. The rain in Spain falls mainly on Joseph Bonaparte,” he added, in the orotund tones of a man of affairs.
“The one time when the army got all the loot,” said William.
William was surprised to receive a letter from the Portuguese embassy with the request that he attend the embassy at the end of the week.
He took Jeb and Scully; Scully wanted to go to London for his own reasons.
“A bit different to last time,” said Jeb.
“I hope so,” said William, sincerely. “Dashing around ahead of barrators and other pirates, and you getting yourself shot and making a flaming nuisance of yourself.”
“Well, if you didn’t have the ʼabit… habit… of falling into trouble…,” said Jeb. Man and master both laughed.
William did not think that Jeb’s infatuation for Mary Hicksworth would last; but his man had to find out for himself. William had every expectation that Jeb could support the position of a country gentleman if he decided to go through with his courtship; but William privately thought that he would be bored. Shooting one’s own partridges would fall flat after poaching someone else’s, and having the thrill of the chase when being chased. And Jeb had used his poaching skills to great effect spying on various enemies, and mapping. Jeb was William’s right-hand man in many ways, and the two men had fallen into a close friendship, despite their disparate social background. Indeed, William counted Jeb, John Scully, and Colin Prescott to be his closest friends, ranging from ‘somewhere around thirty years old’ in Jeb’s case, not far off John’s seven-and-twenty years, through William himself who was not yet even technically of age on land, and yet was deemed responsible enough to have care of hundreds of men, some of them old enough to be his father. And Colin, at just turned fourteen, was more a man than many William had known twice the lad’s age. He hoped Colin would return from his visit to his family, with, or without his sister. He was closer to Colin than to any of his brothers, though he had drawn closer to Sam on this cruise.
Sam had, finally, decided he was going to be a career officer, having gained his sea legs gently under his brother’s tutelage, and was to join Lieutenant Erskine, now Master and Commander of the ‘Sparrowhawk’ sloop.
William left his friends after a boring run into London, John Scully to enact a little personal retribution on the fair but spoilt daughter of the solicitor for whom he had previously worked, Jeb to woo his Mary, and William to see what the Portuguese Embassy had to say.
Well, if the Doña Mercedes – he could not remember the rest of her name – had made any complaint against him or his crew, he would tell them to go to hell, since they had done everything that could have been done. And as far as he was aware, her clothes and those of her children were still untouched in the ‘Nossa Senhora das Flores.’ Perhaps it was about the award of the insurance money; but that was supposed to go through the admiralty.
Oh, well, there was no point worrying; even if censured, there was nothing they could do to him, and nor could the Admiralty.
It was with some surprise that William, on presenting himself at the designated time, found himself being applauded, as he made his way down a carpet to a distinguished looking man at the end of the room.
“Captain Price,” said the man in very precise English, “It has been decided to award you the order of Knighthood of Santiago of the Sword, for your chivalric rescue of a lady in distress, your discovery and return of her jewellery intact, and the recapture and return of the ship in which she travelled. You will be known henceforth as Don William Price. A small stipend has been awarded to the man Adou for his heroism and self-sacrificing bravery; the Portuguese government is pleased to pay him one hundred English pounds a year for his lifetime.”
“Thank you; that will mean a great deal to Adou,” said William. “And I, too, am grateful for the honour you do me.”
He hoped that was the right thing to say. He was presented with a silver chain bearing the insignia, and a lilac ribbon with a medal for his dress uniform, and a sword.
“It is Toledo steel,” said the ambassador.
“I will try to be worthy of it; may it taste the blood of many pirates,” said William.
This was apparently the right thing to say, and the assembled ambassadorial staff cheered. Then came the refreshments and that was followed by dinner. The Portuguese knew how to give a good party. William was moved to ask for the recipes for some of the dishes he was served, and was good-naturedly provided with several sheets of notes when he left, just a trifle tipsy from good wine.
Fortunately, cold air revived him, and he took a room in an inn, laughing ruefully at the fortunes of the sea.
I thought I'd do one or two shorts - I have a 3-chapter short for 'Harry Lime' and one chapter for Taro and then post 'trouble in Svardovia' a Steampunk/Ruritanian adventure
