william Price and the Thetis 4

 

Chapter 4

 

Colin Prescott’s voice drifted up from below.

“I am never going to get the blood out of my breeks,” he said, mournfully.

There was the sound of a boyish giggle.

“Oh, I’m not laughing at you, Colin,” said Seth Porkins, hastily. “I was just remembering something my brother told me. You know Mr. Maxwell, don’t you?”

“The surveyor, yes, a great gun, once he and Mr. MacAllister got over quarrelling they became good friends.”

“Well, this is after you went off with Mr. Price in the prize, and Yarde, who does Captain Mornington’s washing, had volunteered to do Mr. Maxwell’s as well, and whilst dealing with all the mud from Scapa Flow, he started singing, ‘Maxwelton’s BREEKS are bonnie, as softly fa’s the mud…’ and Maxwell called him a…” Seth had to bring to mind what his brother had written in the unfamiliar idiom of Scotland, “A partan-faced wee sumpf!”

Colin laughed uproariously. Everyone knew the song, Annie Laurie, being a party-piece for many, and almost impossible to avoid.

William smirked at the story, then sobered as Emma Green ran up, in the smock she wore as surgeon’s assistant. She looked pale, but then, the orlop deck was not for the faint hearted.

Emma saluted.

“The surgeon’s compliments, captain, and the butcher’s bill,” she said.

“A quick verbal report first?” asked William.

“Two dead, one badly enough wounded Mrs. Captain doesn’t think he’ll survive, one lost arm, three broken ankles, and a dislocated shoulder,” said Emma. “Plus cuts, bruises, and abrasions, and a sore head.”

“That’s remarkable,” said William, relieved. “Who died?”

“One of the marines, and one of the gunners, who managed to fall out of a gun port,” said Emma. “And if you please, sir, it’s Taff who’s hurt bad, he was defending Albert Cosgrove.”

William’s stomach plummeted.

“I’ll go to him right away,” he said. “Broken ankles?”

“Those fool marines thinking they could jump off ladders like heroes in romances,” said Emma, and despite his grief, William had to hide a smile that the sentence sounded inflexion for inflexion exactly the way his wife would put it.

“Pass the word for Jeb Walden, will you, and Adam Peacock and Pete Jackson, being Taff’s particular friends.”

William suspected that Taff and Adam were lovers, but of course such things were unspoken. He hurried to the orlop.

“Will! I don’t know if I can save Taffy!” said Amelia, her eyes big and luminous from grief and worry.

“What’s wrong with him?” asked William.

“He took a cutlass blow for the younger Cosgrove boy,” said Amelia. “Took his arm almost clear off, and I’m not sure if it went through the rib cage into the lung, but even if it didn’t, there’s been so much blood loss.”

“You cauterised?”

“Yes, it was all I could do,” said Amelia.  “I’ve cleaned the blood off his chest, and sewn up the cut. If it missed his lung… well, he’s fit and healthy, and since he had his rotting teeth out and a good set of dentures, they aren’t poisoning him. I gave him enough laudanum to take the edge off the pain, and to slow his heart, so he isn’t pumping it out so fast, and I fed him a good hot cup of chocolate just because… because it’s comforting.”

William laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Sometimes all that is left is to pray,” he said. “Let me see Taff.”

Amelia motioned him towards one of the cubicles she had devised for those recovering from being on her table. She was rather bloody.

“Is there any case you need to oversee?” asked William.

“No, Molly is watching Smitty’s sore head,” said Amelia. “He hit it on the edge of a gun port, not being a gunner by rights, when going to shoot a pirate.”

“Molly’s a capable girl, you may stand down, take a wash, and have a cry, love,” said William. “I’ll send someone for you if Taff deteriorates.”

Amelia nodded, and left. She knew better than to turn down time to rest.

There were no injured pirates.

William was of the opinion that any survivors of the pirate crew would find their survival swiftly rectified by his crew, who had no intention of leaving live pirates to be a risk to them all. It saved the navy the cost of a length of rope, for all would be hanged. Indeed, the only reason for keeping Feltham alive was to question him about any colleagues in the pirate fleet.

William sat down by Taffy.

“Mrs. Price tells me you saved one of the young gentlemen, Taff; I’m grateful,” said William.

“The boy is too young to drag his anchors for the next world, Captain bach,” gasped Taffy in his own idiom. “I ain’t pierced a lung, I don’t feel too good though, whateffer.”

“At the moment, Taff, it’s in the hands of God,” said William. “I’ll be praying for your return to me, you know.”

“Ah, that makes me feel better, Captain-bach, for you look like an angel in a church, so your word will be good. And I can still poach with one hand, and at least ʼtis only my left, look you.”

Taffy’s friends and fellow poachers sidled in, and impulsively, William embraced him, careful to avoid the area under the dressing.

“I’ll leave you with your friends, Taff; I have two ships to sail,” said William.

He left pretending he did not hear Adam Peacock saying, “You have to live, Taff, you’ve a lifetime of wanking on that.”

“You ach-i-fi lubber,” said Taffy.

 

William did pray, most fervently. Taffy was one of the men who was determined to serve William on land, when he mustered out, and was a man you could rely on to get a job done. In many ways, William’s feelings for him were the deep affection of a man for an old retainer, and he had to blink hard on the thought of losing someone as dear to him as any of his own family; dearer, in many ways, than his own brothers, though at least he was getting closer to his brother, Sam. Even if he was still closer to Colin Prescott.

“Mr. Prescott!” William called, seeing the object of his cogitations. Colin ran up.

“Sir?”

“You might want to give your respects to Taffy, who might not survive long. And then you can report to me why your breeks are so stained in blood you do not expect to get them clean.”

Colin’s eyes filled with tears.

“Not Taff!” he gasped.

“I knew you’d rather know now than if it was too late,” said William.

“Thanks,” said Colin, and ran for the orlop, without bothering to observe the niceties of proper manner. William ignored this breach; it was understandable. Taff, after all, stood as one of Colin’s favourite mentors.

Jeb Walden joined William on the bridge shortly.

“He’s a caution is that Mr. Prescott,” said Walden.

“That, I know,” said William. “I sent him to make any goodbyes he might have to Taff.”

“Well, mebbe you’ll get as much of a lift arht of the way ʼe did it as Taff did,” said Walden. “Strewth! ‘Pugh,’ ʼe said, and rememberin’ that Taff is Hugh Pugh is good goin’, ‘Pugh, you do not have permission to die. I expressly forbid it; and if you do, you’re on a charge.’ An’ then ʼe ran out, nappin’ ʼis bib like a babby, bless the boy.”

“And what did Taff say?”

Walden chuckled.

“You know Taff; ‘Diw!’ ʼe said, ‘I’d better live, look you, or Mr. Prescott will ʼave my ghost keelhauled!’ and I could see ʼe was well chuffed that the young gen’lman cared.  We left ʼim with Adam cuddled up beside ʼim. That ain’t wrong, is it?”

“No, it’s probably as good as any cure. I am relieved that someone is watching over him, and of course, Peacock must not neglect his own rest.”

“O’ course, sir, vat’s it,” said Walden, relieved to have a good casuistry to spread.

 

William hailed Wilfrid Percival as he returned aboard.

“Mr. Percival! Report the state of the prize!” he called.

Frid Percival ran up the steps and saluted.

“I have the honour to report that when that idiot fired down into his own deck, he hit the keel, and the ricochet started a few planks to the extent of letting in about a gallon of water by the time I plugged it,” he said. “No significant damage discernible to the keel, though next time we’re in dock, I’d like someone to have a look at the outside.”

“Ask Ado; he swims like a fish. Put a line on him, and see if he’ll go over now. There’s a hot chocolate and an egg for his tea in it for him, I don’t want any surprises.  I’ll have dinner in the mess with all my officers, and I’m told that we have a roux of fresh fish en croute because MacReady cannot resist reminding us he used to be a pastry cook, and the flour is all fresh.”

“By Jove, that’ll be a treat,” said Frid. “I wager he’s irritated to be interfered with by battle.”

“It won’t take long to get the fire started up again to cook pastry,” said William. “I believe the lower decks are having the roux with potatoes fried.”

“I’d eat that as happily,” said Frid. “He puts a pinch of spices in roux which lift it.”

“He has his own mix, which I understand to be black pepper, dried roast garlic powdered, a touch of asfoetida, turmeric, mace, and cardamon,” said William. “The skill is in the proportions.”

“I take it you’re keeping him, when you muster out,” said Frid.

“Oh, most certainly,” said William.

“I need to marry a sister of yours, to stay close to your family for wishing myself on you,” said Frid, cheerfully.

William laughed.

“Well, I’d not object to you marrying either Sukey or Betsy,” he said. “But Betsy’s too young as yet, she’s only eight.”

 

The report came back that Ado had been willing to make the dive even without incentives, and reported that the keel was holding firm, but that some barnacles had been scared out of their shells.

Frid was relieved, and so was William. They might have heavy seas ahead, and the idea of the small ship breaking its back would have preyed on his mind.

He had made up his mind what he intended with the prize ship; and sending it back to Britain was not his intent. The ship’s company were currently scrubbing out the bloodstains, and he would muster to send the two bodies to the depths; the pirates would have a brief, collective prayer for their souls, no more. The prize would be manned for the time being by Erasmus Pollard, William’s clerk, and his wife, Lizzie, and a couple of able seamen, whilst William considered more deeply who to put in the prize as prize captain.

Really, there was only one choice.

William went below to write orders.

There was a knock at the door, and at William’s call, Scully came in and saluted.

“The prisoner Feltham has seen fit to implicate a number of others of his ilk, the names of their vessels, and the details of their base on Grand Canary,” he said.

“‘They anchor there, and think themselves at home,’” misquoted William.

“So you have a plan already,” said Scully. “‘On either side and then directs us where, upon the Islands Fortunate we fall; [not faint canaries, but Ambrosial.’”

“I knew you’d follow that train of thought, John,” said William. “Though, I confess I don’t quite know how Donne would feel about his explicit love poetry being used to discuss a cutting-out mission.”

“He was as much a pirate as any Elizabethan and would probably love to sail with you,” said Scully. “He used a lot of seafaring metaphor in his writing. I didn’t know you had a fondness for Donne.”

“Amelia introduced me,” said William, going red.

“I’ll hum a tune for a moment, then before reporting while you get that thought under control.”

“Damn you, John!” laughed William. “So, he sang; how did you accomplish that?”

“Took an idea from the windlass shanty, ‘Drunken Sailor’,” said Scully. “Not ‘Put him in the scuppers with a hosepipe on him,’ but in the brig, and the hosepipe pumping under the door. He was ready to hang without talking, being a stubborn sort, but not to drown. Yelled and demanded rescue. All I had to do was to keep pumping and tell him I had to have a reason to rescue him.  I gave the orders to abandon ship, and that I would be there presently. He did not like the idea of dying alone and going to a watery grave.”

“Well, he’ll just have to remain in irons on the ‘Thetis,’ until we see a post office packet bound for England to have him tried,” said William.

“You’re not sending the ‘John and Betsy’ back?” asked Scully.

“No, I need a tender,” said William. “And captaining that is too small a job for a lieutenant.”

“I’d already worked that out,” said Scully. “Who is going to do Colin’s navigating for him?”

“I’d a mind to give him Rob Bailey,” said William. “As purser, his mathematics is up to checking Colin’s calculations, though he’s been spot on since Stackfield set him on the right path.  And Bailey can inventory any goods already below.”

“There isn’t much; Feltham had mostly cleared his holds to pursue us and our spurious bullion,” said Scully.

“It all adds up,” said William. “I’d like to send Jeb, Adam, Pete and Taffy, if Taff lives.”

“There’s doubt about that?” Scully went white. “He and his friends were good to me when I was a new hand.”

“Get you to the orlop, then, John,” said William. “If anyone can save him, it’s Amelia, but he’s lost an arm.”

“Thanks, sir, I’ll go now,” said Scully.

He was pleased to come into the orlop to hear Taffy’s rather slurred tones informing Adam Peacock that he hoped they’d use his arm as bait to catch fish, so it was useful for something.

“Well, you’d better live, Taff, so you can enjoy eating the fish and getting your arm back second hand, as you might say,” said Scully.

“Second hand! Diw, that’s good,” said Taffy.