The Following Wind

by Peter Smalley

  ‘Christ’s blood, I am not fit to command a harbour hoy, leave alone a ship of war .’ Inwardly, in near despair.

  The midshipman who had brought the gig kept up a pubescent carolling of instruction to the four single banked oarsmen: ‘Row dry, there .keep your rhythm, keep your stroke .one-and-two, one-and-two, one-and-two .pull pull pull ’ Until James, his head splitting and his ears ringing in protest, turned abruptly to the boy and snapped:

  ‘We will row quiet, if y’please.’

  The boy fell silent, and said not one further word until the gig approached Foxhound, when all he managed was a squeaked:

  ‘Oars!’

  As James stepped out of the boat and on to the side ladder he misjudged his moment too late on the lift of the sea slipped, and nearly fell. This was such a fundamental mistake, a callow boy’s mistake, that he was flushed with embarrassment and shame as he was piped aboard at the gangway port, and barely acknowledged his second lieutenant as the young man tipped his hat off and on.

  He strode aft, and steadied himself on the tafferel. He must gather his strength and his wits, and present himself to his officers and people as the man in

  command. Presently he turned, and:

  ‘Mr. Stapleton!’

  His second lieutenant came aft and again made his obedience, his hat off and on.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘As you are aware, we have not had time to find a replacement for Lieutenant Hallett.’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘I have looked at your papers, and note that you have passed your Board only very recent.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Three months since. But I have already been master’s mate in HM frigate Walrus 32, sir, and I have been at sea since boyhood.’

  ‘You are what age, Mr. Stapleton?’

  ‘I am nineteen, sir.’

  ‘Nineteen ’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Hm. Well, we must all do our duty in the Royal Navy, Mr. Stapleton, whatever circumstance may arise. A circumstance has arose, and accordingly I am placing my trust in you and lifting you up. You will be acting first lieutenant for the time being, and the senior mid, Mr .erm . ‘

  ‘Mr. Metcalf, sir.’

  ‘Yes, in course, Mr. Metcalf will act as second lieutenant. You will divide the watches accordingly, with the sailing master. Bring me the bills for my approval.’

  ‘Aye-aye, sir. Thank you, sir. I will not let you down.’ Earnestly.

  ‘Very good, Mr. Stapleton.’ A brisk nod. ‘We will weigh and make sail, if y’please.’

  ‘Aye-aye, sir.’

  Presently HMS Foxhound 16, her courses and topsails filling, swung southeast toward the Foreland of the Isle of Wight. As the last lengths of anchor cable were passed down into the orlop through the main hatch, the shouts of the boat-swain’s mate rang out over her fo’c’s’le:

  ‘Fish that bower, there! Cheerly, now! This is a ship of war, not a damned lubberly river barge!’

  As Foxhound reached the Foreland and swung south to head down into the Channel, a brisk southwesterly wind tugged at James’s hat. He went forrard to the binnacle and spoke to his burly sailing master, Mr. Ledger.

  ‘When we have cleared the island, set me a course west-by-sou-west, Mr. Ledger, if y’please. And boarding short.’

  ‘Aye-aye, sir clear of the island, west-by-sou-west it is, boarding short, close hauled.’

  ‘I am going below.’

  ‘Aye-aye, sir. Captain going below.’ His hand to his hat, very formal and correct.

  Lieutenant Stapleton, standing at the breastrail, was slightly aggrieved that the captain had not given him the instruction about setting the course, as the officer who had the deck, but he could scarcely complain. Mr. Ledger, a man of thirty, had infinitely more experience.

  James took a last appraising look aloft and along the deck before he headed for the companionway. All was in order. The ship was taut and weatherly. A deep breath, and a nod. Outwardly he was steady and authoritative in his manner and demeanour, as befitted a commanding officer on the deck of his ship, but inwardly his mood was still bleak.

  As he reached the companionway a gust of wind nearly whipped off his hat, so that he had to clutch at it and duck his head. Never at the beginning of a commission had he felt less confident, and less certain of success.

  He went down the ladder, and stooped into his cramped day cabin his home for the long months ahead. It did not seem to him to be at all welcoming. He sighed, removed his hat and coat and sat down at his table, and called for the boy acting as his steward to bring him a bottle of wine.

  When the wine came he poured himself a glass, and then could not drink it. He pushed the wine aside and sat pensive and gloomy a long time, lost to his surroundings until shouted orders on deck pulled him back to the moment and he felt the ship coming round into the wind, timbers creaking.

  He stood, shifted into his coat, took up his hat and went back on deck.

  ‘Mr. Stapleton! How does she lie?’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Rennie woke from a sleep so restless that at first he believed he had not been asleep at all. That what he had just experienced was entirely real, and continued to be real. He swung himself out of his hanging cot, pulled on breeches, shirt, shoes and coat, and went on deck. From the starboard rail he expected to see clear and bright in the moonlight on the calm surface a great floating ball.

  A ball made of timber planks, all shaped and curved and nailed together so that the sphere was like a well built boat, only perfectly round, gently drifting there and strung about with trailing rope lines.

  As he came to the starboard rail he saw nothing. There was no moon, no great floating wooden ball. Only darkness, then the occasional rippling white cap astern as the ship rolled a little and the sea was visible, faintly illuminated by the stern lanterns.

  The moonlight, the flat calm sea, the large floating ball .all had been an illusion, a sleeping fantasy, a dream.

  ‘What can be the meaning of it ?’ To himself, but loud enough for Lieutenant Considine who was officer of the watch to hear him.

  ‘Sir?’ Approaching.

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘You summoned me, sir?’

  ‘Nay, nay .I came on deck for a breath of air, and was merely .merely clearing my wind.’ Coughing into his hand.

  ‘I beg your pardon, sir.’

  ‘Nay, nay .you thought you heard me say something, Mr. Considine, and naturally well well, hm, I will just take a turn on deck, and then go below.’

  ‘Sir.’ Politely.

  ‘Erm you did not see .? You .you did not notice .? Nay, nay, in course you did not.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Nothing, nothing at all.’

  Rennie trod the deck a little longer, sniffed in deep breaths of sea air, flexed his shoulders and felt considerably better. Perhaps the clean air would flush out his

  mind as well as his lungs, and leave him refreshed and able to sleep in dreamless peace. Perhaps. He returned to his sleeping cabin and his hanging cot, and drifted off. He dreamed of the death of a great whale.

  He had known whales as a young sea officer, many years since. The exploding breath as the whale surfaced, and the rich tidal stink as it drifted in a mist over the rail. The great creature just off the bow, its dark shape rippling and gliding under the living glass of the sea, until the flukes reared, black and enormous, and sank beneath the surface as the whale dived. Only for another beast to rise into view, puff a showering mist of breath, then surge down again beneath the sea. Then another, and another, in a gleaming, surging rhythm. He had watched these marvellous creatures by the hour.

  And he had seen them hunted, and killed. It was bloody, cruel and dangerous work, the beast harpooned and suffering, dragging the whaler’s boat in its wake as it tried again and again to sound. Until at last, in agonized pink huffs, the creature drowned in its own blood, and was hauled alongside the whaler to be flayed and divided slice by massive slice severed from the whole. Then
the stench of rendering on deck, and the dark stain of smoke across the sky astern.

  In his dream the death of the whale was interspersed with images of a man’s back flayed raw, and of the huge ball floating in the sea. Now the ball was an enormous globe of sickly white flesh, rinsed with blood, the dangling lines hooked in long red wounds. The sea all round the ball lapped red with blood. These horrible and fantastic images were so immediate and glistening real that Rennie began to fear for his safety .and his life. He woke with a violent yell.

  His steward stood startled by his cot, holding a steaming can of tea.

  ‘Are you quite well, sir ?’ Anxiously.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I I have brought your tea, sir.’

  ‘Hey? What o’clock is it?’ Heaving himself up in the swaying cot.

  ‘It is nearly seven, sir.’

  ‘Six bells? Hammocks up?’

  ‘Erm it is seven in the morning, sir.’ Bassett was yet so new to the sea that much naval language remained confusing to him.

  ‘Was there any sighting?’

  ‘Sighting, sir? D’y’mean of another ship?’

  ‘Nay, nay of a whale.’

  ‘I have not heard so, sir. I have not.’

  ‘Hm. Hm.’ A sniff, and he scratched his head. ‘Is that my tea? Very good, Bassett,

  thankee. I will shave directly, in the quarter gallery. And then I will like to eat breakfast.’

  When he had eaten his breakfast Rennie waited until his steward had cleared away the dishes and left the day cabin, then went to his desk. He unlocked the lower drawer and removed the sealed packet containing his instructions. For a moment before he broke the seal, it seemed to him that it was curiously de-formed, as if too great a quantity of wax had been used. He dismissed this as fanciful, broke the seal and removed the document, and read:

  To Captain William Rennie RN:

  You are hereby informed that all previous

  intelligence, instruction and direction as to

  your present Commission is null & void.

  These various indications and instructions

  were a necessary deception, for purposes

  of secrecy, in the national interest.

  Therefore, and henceforward:

  You will neither proceed to Okhotsk, in

  the Russian Far East, nor meet, nor treat,

  nor deal in any way with any Russian person,

  whether Prince nor commoner.

  Further hereto we do now inform you of

  the following intelligence, as fact:

  There now lies hid at Naples in the Italian

  Continent, whence he has has come from

  elsewhere, one Marion Hart Milson Esq.,

  that is the essence of this whole design.

  Mr. Milson has discovered and made,

  by his own enterprise, effort, and acuity

  of invention, a method of conducting

  ships at sea that relies upon locomotive

  force, other than the wind.

  This method will in our opinion so alter

  the nature of shipping that in the future

  all vessels whether mercantile ships,

  or naval ships of war will ultimately be

  so equipped and enabled.

  Mr. Milson has drawn up by his own hand

  an comprehensive portfolio of drawings,

  plans and designs of his remarkable device,

  which he has agreed, by clandestine

  communication, to make available to His Majesty’s

  Government.

  You will discuss this matter with no person

  or persons other than Captain Sir James

  Hayter RN, commanding HMS Foxhound,

  that will accompany, aid and assist you in

  all particulars.

  You are both of you hereby instructed to go

  to Naples forthwith, discover Mr. Milson’s

  whereabouts, and then bring and convey

  him from his place of concealment to England,

  with his drawings, as a matter of the greatest

  urgency and importance. This must be under-

  took by clandestine measures. Your brief

  presence at Naples must give the outward

  appearance of an informal naval visit.

  You will brook nor allow no foreign

  interference nor interdiction in following these

  instructions, and will employ all necessary

  force, shld such impediment arise, in doing

  your duty.

  It is essential that you shld be informed, in

  addition, of the fact that Mr. Milson is not a

  native of England, and so bears no natural

  obligation nor duty to serve His Majesty in

  the present conflict.

  Accordingly Mr. Milson must be treated

  in all distinctions and at all times with

  the utmost caution and circumspection.

  E. Havelock Symonds

  Rennie put down the document on his desk, and shook out the packet. No other document fell from it. He thrust a hand into the packet. Nothing.

  ‘But there is no bearing nor time given for the rendezvous with James. How and when are we to meet, good God? Nor are we told where we must look for Mr. Milson, at Naples. If he is hid, how are we to discover him? And how are we to do so in secrecy, good God? How on earth are we to go ashore at Naples in stealth? On a broomstick, by moonlight, from far at sea? The entire damned business is foolishness.’

  He sighed, threw down the packet and stared out of the stern gallery window. Briefly it occurred to him that perhaps the seal had been tampered with, and the rendezvous bearing removed, but again he dismissed this as fanciful by whom, good heaven? Another sigh, and presently he took up the document again, read it through a second time part of it aloud:

  ‘ A method of conducting ships at sea that relies upon locomotive force, other than the wind. It is a meaningless description. There is no other force than wind. Unless he may mean the tide, good heaven.’

  He read through the document a third time, on the slim chance that he might have missed something. He could find nothing. As he put the document aside a thought came to him:

  ‘Could Symonds intend .that we should simply meet at Naples? Is Naples itself the rendezvous .?’ A sniff, and he rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I can only think that must be his design .that must be it. Aye, we are to proceed independent to Naples, and meet there.’ A nod, his gloom lifting a little.

  Rennie had never been to Naples. Neither had James, so far as he knew. Nay, that was not true. James had been there in his youth, had he not? Well born young fellows in usual made such journeys. The Grand Journey, was not it called? The Grand Venture?

  ‘The Grand Tour.’ Rennie, aloud.

  ‘Will you drink another cup of tea, sir?’ Bassett, coming into the day cabin.

  ‘It was not something available to me, I fear.’

  ‘Sir ?’

  ‘The Grand Tour, Bassett. Nor, I will venture, was it available to you. Hey?’

  ‘It it was not, sir.’ Politely.

  ‘Just so. Just so. We have that in common. And yes, indeed, I will like more tea.’

  When Bassett brought his tea, the document still lay open on Rennie’s desk, and

  the captain made no effort to conceal it, intent as he was on making a note in pencil, and pinning it to small sheaf of notes he kept to one side. The note concerned the looking out of Admiralty charts for the Tyrrhenian Sea, and the harbour at Naples.

  So intent was he upon this task that he did not see Bassett peer closely over his shoulder at the document. By the time Rennie had finished, Bassett had retreated swiftly and quietly to the door of the cabin.

  ‘Is there anything else I may bring you, sir?’

  ‘Eh?’ Sitting back in his chair, and glancing toward the door. ‘Nay, nay, thankee. I will go on deck presently .when I have took my ease in the lee gallery.�
��

  ‘Sir.’

  And politely Bassett withdrew.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  James did not scruple to disobey the stricture against opening his sealed instructions until he was two days at sea. He broke the seal and opened them as soon as Foxhound was clear of the English coast. And as soon as he had read them he went on deck and there told Lieutenant Stapleton that his intention now was to pursue Expedient with all possible speed, find her, and speak. He did not tell his lieutenant why, beyond declaring that it was a matter of the greatest and gravest urgency.

  James wished to discuss with Rennie the implications of their shared instruct-ions. Quite apart from the dramatic changes to their destination and purpose, he was in little doubt that Rennie’s instructions and his own were not entirely the same. In this he was correct. James’s instructions included the rendezvous, at

  a bearing in the Tyrrhenian Sea fifty miles to the west of Naples.

  James’s instructions were different in certain other significant details, because Havelock Symonds was aware that Captain Hayter had been to Naples in his youth, knew something of the city and surrounds, and thus had a considerable advantage over Captain Rennie. In little it was James that Symonds intended should take the lead in finding and bringing away from Naples Mr. Milson and his drawings.

  Symonds revealed to James what he had not revealed to Rennie. That Mr. Milson would in all probability be unwilling to leave Naples, where he believed himself safe. He had already made clear he would only hand over his drawings in return for a large sum in gold. In specific, twenty thousand gold guineas.

  It would be James’s task to lure Mr. Milson out of hiding carrying the drawings with him. James would achieve this by sending a message by a third party one James Beckford, Keeper of the Purse in the household of Sir William Hamilton, British Ambassador to the Kingdom. Beckford was a discreet employee of the Secret Service Fund, and his involvement would be entirely independent. The ambassador himself was not to be involved. James was to declare that he had brought the gold with him from England, and as soon as Mr. Milson had emerged from his hiding place seize him and bring him by boat to Foxhound, where she lay waiting. Mr. Milson would then remain in Foxhound, and the drawings would be taken into Expedient, lying close by. All this must be accomplished quietly and discreetly, and preferably under cover of night.