William Price and the Thetis 11

 sorry, I have the mother and father of all headaches, not a migraine, just snot and high atmospheric pressure

 

Chapter 11

 

Thomas Stackfield might only have minor orders, but he was happy to marry Adou and Nanny, rather than have them use the old English country custom of jumping over a broomstick together. He drew his two pounds thirteen and thruppence weekly as chaplain, plus sixpence a week as schoolmaster, as being the easiest way to rate him. The men liked his entertaining sermons, which often featured the exploits of boys he had taught, making the men laugh. He held prayers for the dead slaves, and expanded on William’s talk about righteous anger, and how he had once been forced to cane Mr. Prescott to uphold a bad teacher, for the sake of discipline, which a good officer like Mr. Prescott understood and accepted. He explained how the teacher was going to punish a younger boy, who had never been to school, for a lack of knowledge, and that when Mr. Prescott objected to this, the teacher had slapped him across the mouth. The men gasped at this.

“And Mr. Prescott knocked him down, as you might imagine,” said Stackfield. “And then came to me to appeal for the younger boy, who had no peers of his own age-group, supported by Mr. Green.  Mr. Prescott was correct, and accepted punishment for essentially striking a superior officer. You will, I am sure, continue to feel righteous anger towards slavers, but try to be moderate in your actions in order to leave Mr. Price one or two to hang.”

This occasioned laughter from the men.

“Sorry, capting!” called out one of the men. “But we won’t distribute them like prize money!”

“Ah, the quarterdeck is happy to share more equably when it comes to killing pirates and slavers,” William quipped back. “And they count for head money.”

Stackfield gave an austere smile, and went on,

“The Bible adjures us not to kill, as one of the ten commandments, but what it means is, not to murder, or kill in cold blood. We have many occasions the lessons of the Bible in fighting for freedom, or against the unrighteous, and in protecting our fellow men, in the persons of slaves, we are a sword for the Lord and for Gideon.”

He was cheered.

 

 

All the men over thirteen chose to join the navy which had rescued them, including the lad Colin had first unlocked from his shackles. This was another eight men, a handy addition. William did his best to inscribe their names correctly, but to the men, they were Joe, Peasy, Ducky, whose name was Kwaku, Garden, whose name the men heard as ‘Kew,’ Numbo, Koomi, Ephraim, who was originally Efum, and Africa, who stopped trying to explain that his name, Afriyie,  meant ‘good fortune,’ as being alive and free was the best good fortune.

They were split amongst the messes to learn the evolutions, and might ask to be with close friends or relations later. They would learn English quicker that way, too.

Meanwhile, Frid Percival reported that the slaver ship could be salvaged, but only with hard work. William gave the order to scuttle it; there was no point putting in the effort unless it was exceptional. The men asked permission to make a wreath of herbs, in honour of the slaves, and make it a grave. William readily gave permission.

 

 

It took William two days to notice that Colin was wearing trousers, not breeches.

“Mr. Prescott! Why are you improperly dressed?” he asked.

“Sir, enemy action, sir,” said Colin.

“Would you care to expand on that?” asked William.

“Well, sir, one pair were stained with pirate blood, which I can’t get out, and the others went down when I swam out to the slaver,” said Colin. “And at least wearing trousers seemed better than coming on duty entirely sans culottes as you might say, since I still need to dry my underlinen.”

“I’ll have an ode from you on being in breach of breeches, and report to the surgeon to be measured for replacements,” said William.

“Aye aye, sir,” said Colin, resigned.

“Unofficially, Colin, your second pair died heroically. Officially, you’re improperly dressed.”

Colin sighed.

He had hoped he might get away with it.

 

Amelia measured Colin, whilst he blushed furiously.

“You’ll have to put up with cotton duck,” said Amelia.

Colin brightened.

“That doesn’t matter, ma’am,” he said.  He was delighted; the usual woollen twill was hot and rubbed in southern climes. They would still be cinched tight at the knee with a buckle, but should not rub as much.  He skipped away to write his ode. Two odes on one voyage! Mr. Price was a hard man, any decently merciful captain would merely give him half a dozen strokes with a rattan cane.

 

Colin duly presented his ode.

 

To be in breach of breeches may

[At fundamental bottom found]

Fulsomely there, Naval display

Rear Admiral not Ars Profound.

To save embarrassment from cheek

And cover up the unmarked stern

Thus dressed all over in the breek

To save the gunner’s rattan burn.

Which, being made a lesson rather sore

Across the naked gun breech learns the law.

 

“What do you say, Scully, sufficient?”

“It’s a Pindaric ode, if a little sparse,” said Scully. “The punning within it, however makes up for the sparseness. It should be entitled ‘Ars Poetica.’

 

oOoOo

 

“Deck there! Sail ho… east, looks like a fast ship.”

“I’ll go,” said Colin, leaping into the ratlines. He hated having to wear stockings and shoes, but it was at least slightly cooler aloft. He ran up to the top, and nodded to Smitty, who was on watch, and took direction from him.

The telescope showed a schooner with four masts. Colin whistled. It bore no apparent colours.

He went down quickly, and was down before the men were even at quarters.

“Schooner, four masts, heading west, laden,” he said. “If it’s not a slaver, I’ll be surprised. But their masthead is lower than ours, I think.”

William gave him a sharp look.

“Shadowing it out of sight?”

“It’ll be sunset in two hours,” said Colin.

“One each side,” said Scully.

William laughed.

“What, have I two of you second-guessing me, now?”

“Yessir,” said Colin.

“Shorten sails, Mr. Gubbins, and drop back; but head in a generally western direction.  Bend on Mr. Perceval’s number, and request him to come on board.”

 

“We’re going to shadow the tentative slaver until night falls,” said William. “Then we’ll come up on him, stealthily. Most merchantmen shorten sails at night. Mr. Perceval will come up on the larboard whilst we approach on starboard. No lights. Silence throughout, and Adou and one of the new hands to row with muffled rowlocks, and sing a song of their homeland and see if anyone answers.”

“Checking if it is a slaver without passing officially within hail,” said Colin.

“Exactly,” said William. “It would be wonderful if we could just transfer the slaves, leaving the slavers without a cargo, but if we can take them by surprise we can stop them jettisoning.”

“Murdering,” said Scully.

“I find it easier if I use more neutral language,” said William.

“It’ll be easier for Adou if we get ahead, and he drops back; he could then show one shielded lantern for yes, and two for no,” said Colin.

“Good idea,” said William. “You’re with my idea, yes? One each side, grapple, board,  and  one man to run down to the hold to check for certain.”

“Volunteering, sir, if I can go with bare feet and with Wick to throw a belaying pin at anyone on watch,” said Colin.

“I agree,” said William. “I was going to ask Wick if he would volunteer, but if he watches your back, it would be better.”

 

                                               

Slowly, painfully slowly, it seemed to Colin, the sun went down. The men went to eat mess by mess and made their way back to being at quarters. They were quiet and well-disciplined, and William was proud of them. He had a rotating watch at the mast-head, changing more often than usual, to keep the enemy in fleeting sight, having picked up speed to race ahead.  If the other vessel had good lookouts, seeing another ship apparently leaving the region would alert fewer suspicions than had they been following.

The sun finally descended in a burst of fire, and Colin, on the masthead, illicitly watching the sun rather than their quarry, gasped as there was a green flash as the sun disappeared.  He quickly checked back to see the enemy still desultorily in sight, with the gleam of the last light of the day leaving her.

He was relieved by Albert Cosgrove to go make his report, as Adou, almost invisible now, dressed in black, and navigated by Scully, to make sure of being in the right place, with a black loo mask covering his own face, set off in the captain’s pinnace. They had decided not to take a new hand, who might get over-excited. Scully could work the sail on the pinnace to catch up to the ‘Thetis’ once the had found out what they needed to know.

 

Adou sat stoically in the boat, ready to row when Mr. Scully said row, or to haul on a rope if Mr. Scully said to do so. He could handle the sails of the schooner along with his fellows, but how to make the little boat go, and the finer mysteries of how a ship might go against the wind escaped him, for the simple reason that he did not care.  Officers knew to go here, and do this, and that was enough for Adou, so long as he was allowed to climb and run, and swim, to work off his energy.  Adou, like most of the sailors, was a simple soul who did not ponder deeply the questions of how, or why. He had perhaps more knowledge than many of his fellows in shipwrighting, having volunteered to aid the carpenter’s mate, and Mr. Perceval, and having a way with tools. He could tell if a ship was sound, but much of that was experience, and the sounds of the ship as she moved. Adou was a happy man, he was well fed, and with all he could eat, which for a big man had not been the case before he slipped out of the sugar plantation where he had worked since he was a small child, and swam out to a man o’ war in the harbour, and hid on board, waiting until they had left to reveal himself and sign on.

No captain in the Caribbean ever turned down a volunteer hand, and no questions were asked. Adou had seen good captains and bad captains, and was determined to stay with Mr. Price if he could. His rhetoric had swayed those he had recruited, and if the work was hard, well, the food was good, water plentiful, and the company friendly. None of them were regretting it, but Adou reflected that the captain was right, they might prove excitable, and unable to contain calling out and drawing attention to the little boat.

“It are marvellous, Mr. Scully, how here we be, de sky out of sight above us, de ocean floor out of sight below us, all in de middle of nowhere but gwine to be jus’ where you wants us,” said Adou.

“There is an almost mystical quality of sailing miles above the ocean floor and miles below the outside of the atmosphere,” agreed Scully, who understood what Adou could not put into words.  It was a shame that Adou, who could be quite profound, showed no inclination to understand more of the workings of the ship, and it was not lack of intellect. But then, he was satisfied with where he was; and satisfaction was the first step in happiness, so maybe Adou was a luckier man than those who wrestled with the calculations not merely of navigation, but of risk to the men in an operation. Scully reflected that the navy needed many more of those who were satisfied with where they were, than those mavericks like himself who needed always to know how things worked and why. Still, he had been lucky, being helped by Will Price, his dearest and closest friend, when he might have ended up a mutineer for his dissatisfaction, hanged ignominiously instead of being as satisfied as Adou, in his own restless way, glad to support William, glad to be able to be trusted with a tricky little job like this, and it did not hurt that his share of prize money from sundry trips made him better off than any of the senior clerks he might have envied once. Even his naval pay was higher than most of them aspired to, and he had no need of spending most of it, save on a new uniform to replace the ravages of hard wear from time to time. His food was provided, and if Taffy reckoned the crew would be able to live well from the funds after this cruise, he would be in a position to laugh at those who might have sneered at him before.

He had half a mind to flirt with Mr. Dalgleish’s pretty and disdainful daughter, as a wealthy officer with prize money, and then fail to recognise her next time they met, she who had visited the office and referred to her father’s ‘minions’ with a grating little titter. He had lusted for her, but she was nothing. When he married, if he married, he would choose a woman of the calibre of Amelia Price, who took all in her stride. As Colin had his Emma. Scully castigated himself for being maudlin, and took sights on the pole star.  If he stood up… yes! The dark bulk of their quarry was visible in the heave of the waves.

“Strike the sail, Adou, and get out the sweeps,” said Scully, pleased that his voice was steady, especially after a vision half vengeful, half erotic, of the fair Catherine Dalgleish over the guns for the spanking she undoubtedly deserved.

It seemed after that as if the schooner caught up with them and began to overhaul them, though her sails were reefed up for the night.

Scully nodded to Adou as they sat right in the shadow of the bigger vessel, the stench of human waste and misery telling its own story with no need for further confirmation. But the Royal Navy demanded proof, and the smell of a slaver was circumstantial evidence at best, as a one-time legal clerk well understood.

Adou began singing, a song with an odd sort of scale, but somehow compelling, with a rhythm which was somehow alien, and yet sent shivers down Scully’s spine.

From the ship, a voice answered, in counterpoint so pure tears came to Scully’s eyes.

The slam of a hatch, and a harsh voice shouting, “Tais-toi, sales cochon!” put paid to the singing.

“Charming,” said Scully. “Pull us ahead, Adou, I’ll send the signal.”

He set one light in the bow as Adou skilfully turned the ship, and unshuttered it as they turned to face back the way they had come. Then he joined Adou on the sweeps, and pulled with all his might, trusting to Will to pick them up.