The Following Wind

by Peter Smalley

  ‘She lifted me ’ Rennie, to himself, gazing out of the stern gallery window.

  The ship rose on a swell, and rolled a little as she righted herself. Timbers creaked, and he heard the cries of seabirds. The cook’s mate emptying galley scraps to leeward, no doubt. Rennie gathered the papers that lay before him, thrust them into a drawer and pushed himself upright from his desk.

  His final instructions lay in a sealed packet in another drawer of the desk, locked there, and the seal unbroken. With his sailing orders at Portsmouth had come strict admonition not to break that seal until he was three days at sea and well clear of England. At the noon declaration today Expedient would be two full days out, the Scilly Isles far to the north, and the coast of France at Brest far to the east. He was to maintain this course sou-sou-west by a point south another full day. Only then, after the noon declaration on the third day the beginning of the fourth, in fact could he unlock that drawer, remove the packet, and break the seal.

  ‘Why not now, this very moment ?’ A hand to his chin. ‘Mr Symonds could not know, nor could their Lordships. What difference could it make, at all? None.’

  He turned back to the desk, fumbled for the key to the drawer, and was about to insert it in the lock when he heard a commotion on deck. Shouting, then a single voice, raised in a bellow of rage. More shouts. The sound of something clattering across the deck.

  Rennie shrugged quickly into his coat, snatched up his hat, and went on deck

  himself.

  Forrard on the starboard gangway, near the fo’c’sle, the sergeant of Marines, and a corporal, were busy turning over a single prisoner to the master at arms. The prisoner was a seaman in his middle twenties, with a cut over his left eye, and a look of savage discontent on his face, and he was struggling to free himself from the grip of the two men holding him.

  On the fo’c’sle nearby a man lay on his back, one arm outflung and the other arm caught under him. There was a pool of blood under his head. His head moved slackly with the movement of the ship, lolling to one side, then the other, in the dark slippery stain.

  ‘He has attacked me, first of all!’ complained the prisoner. ‘He has assaulted me, not t’other way round!’

  ‘You shut your mouth,’ instructed the sergeant, as the master at arms pinned the prisoner.

  ‘I shall not!’ Defiantly. ‘You ought to discover the truth of this, mate! The bastard attacked me!’

  Rennie gripped the breastrail, and roared:

  ‘Silence on deck!’

  He glared at the group, then stepped down on the gangway and went forrard.

  ‘Has the surgeon been summoned?’ he demanded, moving to where the injured man lay.

  ‘Not yet, sir,’ The sergeant. ‘I were just about to do so.’

  Rennie turned and saw Mr. Considine approaching, pulling on his coat.

  ‘I was in my cabin, and heard an altercation on deck ..Good God.’ Sighting the man lying in his own blood. ‘Is he dead ?’

  Rennie now looked down, just as the injured man’s head lolled from one side to the other with the movement of the ship. With a shock of recognition he saw that here lay Lieutenant Allbright. The young man’s hair had been cut very close to his head, and a kerchief tied there further to disguise him, which had loosened.

  ‘What is this man’s name?’ Rennie demanded, pointing to him.

  ‘That is Richard Allerton, sir, landman idler.’ The sergeant. ‘This man seized is John Dando, rated ordinary, sir.’

  Mr. Considine now knelt by Lieutenant Allbright, bent his head to his chest and listened. ‘He is alive, sir.’ Getting to his feet.

  Presently the ship’s surgeon Dr. Pruett attended, and Lieutenant Allbright was carried below. The seaman who had apparently struck him down was taken below and confined in irons in the orlop.

  ‘I will conduct a hearing in the great cabin following divisions and the declaration, Mr. Considine,’ Rennie said to his first. ‘We must discover what happened.’

  ‘Captain’s hearing. Aye-aye, sir. ‘His hat off and on.

  Rennie returned to the great cabin and reflected that he was very much on his own in the ship. That was true of any captain in any RN ship, in course, but in his previous commissions Rennie had been able to rely upon officers and people he knew well. His first had been James Hayter, his sailing master Bernard Loftus, his surgeon the diminutive Dr. Thomas Wing, his boatswain Roman Tangible, his gunner Mr. Storey, his carpenter Mr. Adgett, and so on and so on, right through to the coxswain, quartermaster, master’s mate, and many of the senior topmen. Now, in this familiar setting aboard his faithful old ship, he knew almost nobody. Well, he knew Mr. Allbright, but even that tenuous acquaintance was now compromised, because the young fool had signed on under a false name.

  Rennie drew lists toward him, and read through all the new names. His lieutenants: Mr. Considine, Mr. Latimer, and Mr. Plunkett. His mids, including Mr. Richards, Mr. Clark, Mr. Templeton, and Mr. Canfield. His captain of Marines, Captain Dysart, and his deputy Lieutenant Hawke. His sailing master Alec Trancred. His purser Mr. Luff, surgeon Dr. Pruett, boatswain John Catermole, gunner Mr. Archibald, and carpenter Mr. Mace. Well well, he needed to know and understand all of these man, and sharpen them to their duty, if this commission was to succeed. As he perused the lists, Dr. Pruett came to the cabin door and requested an interview. Rennie readily granted the request.

  Dr. Pruett was not perhaps a typical example of the warranted naval surgeon. He was lean and fit, and his face was neither sullied nor ruddied by drink. His eyes were blue and alert, his expression reserved but intelligent. His thick dark hair had begun to grey at the temples, and he had an air of quiet authority. Rennie came forward from his desk.

  ‘Well, doctor ?’

  ‘The man will live, sir. The blow to his head was a glancing one only, and the quantity of blood lost peculiar to scalp wounds where the skin has been broke. He has already returned to wakefulness, and is able to speak.’

  ‘Very good, thankee, doctor .erm, has he talked of the reason for the quarrel?’

  ‘He has not but he has revealed something else. Which is why I asked to see you, sir.’

  ‘Proceed.’

  ‘His true name is not Allerton, it is Allbright.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘You .know, sir?’

  ‘He is Lieutenant Daniel Allbright, of the First Marine Division.’ Rennie motioned for the surgeon to sit down, and told him of the encounter at Chatham, of his attempt to thwart the young officer’s intention to abandon his rank and go to sea before the mast, and his failure to convince him.

  ‘When I refused absolutely to take him on Expedient’s books on his terms, he talked of joining the Revenue service. I had no notion he would defy me so deliberate, the damned young fool. And now in course he cannot be put ashore, he must remain aboard the duration of the commission.’

  ‘Would you wish him to remain as he is, sir?’

  ‘As Richard Allerton, landman idler, d’y’mean?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘The alternative is that he reverts to the name Allbright, and is rated super-numerary. Hm. In which case as an officer he would have to be given his own cabin, and made welcome in the gunroom . Plaguey awkward for him, awkward all round. A glass of something, doctor ?’

  ‘Thank you, sir, no. I must return to my duties. Some few of the other landman idlers suffer very severe with the seasickness.’

  ‘And we have not yet encountered our first storm, hey? Well well, ‘twas ever so.’ And as the doctor turned to the door: ‘Erm doctor, I think that whatever Mr. Allbright may decide later, after he has recovered, his true identity should remain confidential for the moment.’

  ‘Very good, sir. My lips are sealed.’

  ‘But mine ain’t.’ Rennie murmured, when the doctor had departed. ‘Mine are open to refreshment. Bassett! Bassett, there!’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The hearing took place in the great cabin, in the presence of C
aptain Rennie, with the aid of the senior Marine officer, Captain Dysart. At the request of ordinary seaman Dando, Lieutenant Considine had agreed to act as his advocate.

  Richard Allerton Lieutenant Allbright could not attend, as he had been detained in the sickbay by Dr. Pruett, who had given him laudanum to calm him and help him to sleep.

  Witnesses were called from among the fo’c’slemen who had been on watch at the time of the incident, but none could recall seeing a fight take place only the aftermath. Rennie did not believe this for a moment, but knew from long experience of foremast jacks that they would never give evidence against any member of the lower deck.

  The sergeant and corporal of Marines said they had seized John Dando as soon as they became aware of the disturbance. Allerton was lying senseless on the star-board side of the fo’c’sle, and Dando was on his knees on the gangway, bleeding from a cut to the head. A belaying pin, taken from the fiferail, had been found nearby on the planking. The pin was stained with blood. It was produced by the sergeant, and examined by Rennie and Captain Dysart.

  Dando gave evidence in his own behalf, responding to questions put to him by Mr. Considine, and stated clearly and adamantly that he had not attacked anyone. That he had been attacked, and had been struck a blow to the head, from behind. He did not know if Allerton had attacked him. He saw a man stumble on a tackle ring, and fall very heavily to the deck, but that was all. He did not even know the man’s name.

  Dando was then closely questioned by Rennie.

  Again he denied assault, and maintained that he was the victim of an assault. He could not be deflected or distracted from his version of events by any of the captain’s questions. He had never, at any time, had a belaying pin in his hand. He had been struck from behind. Since nobody among the people, or the Marine detachment, and no officer, could offer clear evidence to the contrary, Rennie concluded after brief consultation with Captain Dysart that a charge of murderous assault could not be sustained against John Dando, rated ordinary.

  However, because he had been involved in a fight resulting in injury both to himself and to his opponent, Dando was found guilty on the lesser charge under number XXIII of the Articles of War of affray, and sentenced to two dozen lashes. In absentia Richard Allerton, landman idler, was found guilty of the same offence, and received the same punishment, to be administered at a date to be determined.

  Dando’s punishment would be carried out immediately.

  The man was inclined to be aggrieved, but on the firm advice of Mr. Considine, delivered sotto voce in his ear, he desisted, and accepted the punishment with a resigned shrug.

  ‘It is infinitely better than being hanged,’ added the lieutenant.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  An escort of Marines took the offender into the waist. His shirt was stripped and he was lashed spreadeagled by the wrists and ankles to an upright grating.

  All hands were piped to witness punishment, and gathered in the waist. The drum rolled in a menacing continuum, and the boatswain’s mate brought the bag containing the cat.

  Mr. Considine, standing at the breastrail, waited for the nod from Rennie. When it came he drew in a breath, and:

  ‘Silence on deck!’

  The drum roll ceased.

  ‘Commence punishment!’

  The cat out of the bag, and the bag dropped to the deck. The cat shaken out, and all nine knotted strands properly loosened. The sucking slide of the sea along the wales. A whisper of wind. The cat swung.

  Ssssss-crack

  Ssssss-crack

  Ssssss-crack

  A heart-deep groan from the spreadeagled man. Blood welling on his back.

  Ssssss-crack

  Ssssss-crack

  The youngest midshipman a slight boy of twelve, standing next to midshipman Clark slumped to the deck in a dead faint.

  Mr. Clark bent to aid him. At once:

  ‘Stand fast, there!’

  Mr. Clark made his back straight, and stood still, his legs trembling.

  Ssssss-crack

  Ssssss-crack

  ‘It is barbarous ’ Dr. Pruett, waiting at the side. He did not say it aloud. ‘Bloody barbarous infamy ’

  Ssssss-crack

  Dando’s head turning in agony to one side, his eyes hard shut, his teeth bared in a grimace. Another terrible despairing groan. His lacerated back glistening red. Blood seeping down into his waistband. Droplets of blood splashing over the deck as the cat was swung through the air.

  Ssssss-crack

  Ssssss-crack

  Dando’s head lolled, and he hung there.

  At last:

  ‘Two dozen, sir!’ Mr. Considine.

  Rennie nodded, and Mr. Considine:

  ‘Cut him down!’

  When Dando had been revived with a sluicing bucket of seawater and taken below, Rennie returned to his cabin to eat a late dinner alone, and to contemplate a troublesome question. What was he to do about Lieutenant Allbright?

  Was Mr. Allbright to suffer the same bloody chastisement as ordinary seaman Dando? Or was he to be exposed as an imposter an officer and gentleman in disguise and thus spared a flogging? No commissioned officer could be flogged.

  ‘What if he has resigned his commission ?’

  That thought had only now occurred to Rennie. He lifted his head and stared out of the stern gallery window.

  ‘If he has resigned his commission, he is certainly no longer an officer .but I must find a way to protect him. I cannot stand by and see him flogged.’

  ‘Shall I bring the soup, sir?’ His steward, at the door of the day cabin.

  ‘What?’ Rennie turned.

  ‘Your soup, sir. Shall I bring it now?’

  ‘Yes, yes, by all means. First remove. Just so.’

  Rennie sat at the end of the table, where a place had been laid for him, with a wineglass and a decanter of claret.

  His steward brought the soup. ‘It is really only a humble broth, sir.’

  ‘Yes? Is it? Hm.’ Rennie drank his soup without really tasting it, since there was not much flavour in the thin liquid. He put down his spoon and pushed the bowl aside, and poured himself wine.

  ‘Nay, I don’t know my officers and people .’ A frown. ‘And without the books I cannot even recall their names.’ A swallow of wine, and he sat back in his chair. ‘I know my own ship, and that is a comfort.’ A sniffing breath. ‘But I know little else .least of all what to do with young Mr. Allbright the damned fool.’

  ‘Shall I bring the sea pie now, sir?’ His steward, again appearing.

  ‘Yes yes, by all means. Erm, Bassett ’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘There is no need to ask me between each remove when you should bring the next, hm? Simply bring it.’

  ‘Aye-aye, sir. Simply bring it.’

  ‘The fewer such formalities we employ, the better we shall rub along.’

  ‘Aye-aye, sir.’

  ‘And, Bassett .’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘There is no need for you to say aye-aye , neither. Not here in my cabin.’

  ‘I I thought it was naval manners, sir. I apologize.’

  ‘I am not always the stern, unbending sea officer, you know. There is an ordinary man underneath, an ordinary human being.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Withdrawing with a stiff little nod.

  ‘Fffff, now I have confused him.’ Rennie, shaking his head. ‘If only dear little Dulcie was here, she would understand me .and I should not feel quite so damned despondent.’ A sigh, and he drank off his wine.

  By the time he had finished eating his dinner Rennie was no nearer to finding a way to protect Daniel Allbright. It was probable indeed nearly certain, he thought that the young man had formally resigned his commission in the Marines. Even tho he had been put on the ship’s books under an assumed name, he was now a lowly landman idler that had been found guilty of affray, and must suffer the same punishment as John Dando. He could not be protected, nor excused.

  ‘It will go very hard
with him, wretched hard, but I can see no alternative none.’

  Rennie rose from the table and threw down his napkin. He did not write up his log. Instead he took up his hat and went on deck to clear his head.

  Perhaps there, in the wind and the smell of the open sea, an alternative would occur to him after all.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  James said goodbye to Catherine and his mother, and was rowed out to Foxhound in his gig. He felt very low. The strain of the past few days, added to all that had gone before, had left him with a headache, grumbling guts and a feeling of exhaustion before the commission had properly begun. The assault in London, the death of the intruder, the hasty departure from London and the journey through the night; all the difficulties arising from the transition of his command from Ventura to Foxhound; and then the death of Lieutenant Hallett, and the gloom of the burial; the failure of the Marine investigation to discover the killer, nor the likely motive, and the profound disquiet among the people as a result; in addition the myriad exigencies, problems and responsibilities of getting his ship ready to weigh and make sail all these burdens had made tremendous de-mands on his time, his energy, his concentration, and his remaining sorely pressed reserves of strength. There had been one other troubling concern: all the time he was ashore he had had the nagging, uneasy sense that he was being followed, and watched, wherever he went. He had never actually seen anyone following him, nor watching him but the prickling unease remained.

  The gig moved away down the harbour and he turned in the stern sheets and raised his hand in final farewell. The distant female figures standing on the Hard grew smaller still, and it was all he could do to restrain his tears.