The Hundred Days

by Patrick O'Brian

  'Avast firing,' cried Jack in the unnatural deafened silence that followed. 'House the guns. Mr Harding, lower what boats we have left'—the launch on the booms was pierced through and through—'and bid Pomone come within hail.'

  He ran below, where Stephen was just straightening after having placed a splint on a torn and broken arm that Poll was quickly, expertly bandaging. 'The Doctor will soon put you right, Edwardes,' he said to the patient, and drawing Stephen aside he asked him privately how urgent he thought their mission to Spalato. 'Of the very first urgency,' said Stephen. Jack nodded. 'Very well,' said he. 'What is our damage?'

  'Harris shot dead with a musket-ball. Six splinter-wounds, one dangerous; and two men hurt by falling blocks.'

  A very, very modest butcher's bill. Jack said a word to each of the men waiting to be treated and returned to the deck. Pomone had already come abreast. 'Captain Vaux,' he called, 'have you suffered much?'

  'Very little, sir, for such a brisk turn-to, short though it was. Four powder-burns; one gun overset, four pair of shrouds cut and damage to the running rigging. Some men hurt by falling blocks and timber. But our boats are all sound.'

  'Then pray lower them down. Pick up what survivors you can and recover our Marines. Land the prisoners at Ragusa—the new Ragusa up the coast—and then follow me to Spalato without the loss of a minute.'

  During the later part of their voyage to Spalato, rendered tedious by capricious winds varying from a furious bora, shrieking down from the north and blowing the foretopmast staysail from its boltrope to very gentle breezes right aft that often died away to a flat calm, and by the hazardous nature of the Dalmatian coast with its many islands, not to say vile reefs, Stephen spent much of his time aloft, at the topmast cross-trees. With practice he had grown used to the climb to the maintop, though nobody liked to see him make the attempt, however smooth the calm; and he asserted that he could certainly rise even higher, to the cross-trees, with perfect safety. This however was never countenanced, and Jack required John Daniel to accompany the Doctor if ever he showed an inclination to view anything from a greater height than the carriage of a bow-chaser.

  Daniel had sailed these waters in a ship belonging to Hoste's squadron and once he had overcome his shyness he not only told Stephen the names of the various headlands, promontories and islands but also described some of the actions in which he had taken part, often giving an exact account of the number of round-shot fired and the weight of the powder expended.

  Stephen liked the young man, open, friendly and candid, and one day, as they were sitting up there, he said, 'Mr Daniel, I believe you attach a particular importance to number?'

  'Yes, sir, I do. Number seems to me to be at the heart of everything.'

  'I have heard others say so: and one gentleman I knew in India told me that there was a very special quality in primes.'

  'To be sure,' said Daniel, nodding. 'They give one great pleasure.'

  'Can you explain the nature of that pleasure?'

  'No, sir: but I feel it strongly.'

  'Number as the perception of quantity is no doubt a pitifully limited aspect of its true nature; but how many feet, would you say, is it from here to the deck?'

  'Why, sir,' said Daniel, glancing down, 'I should reckon a hundred and twelve. Or shall I say a hundred and thirteen, which is prime?' He looked at Stephen's face, expecting the pleasure he felt himself; but Stephen only shook his head.

  'There are some unfortunates to whom music brings no sort of delight: I fear that I am excluded not only from the joy of prime numbers and surds but from the mathematics as a whole. I could wish it were otherwise. I should like to join the company of mathematicians, of people like Pascal, Cardan . . .'

  'Oh, sir,' cried Daniel, 'I am no mathematician in that glorious sense. I just like to play with numbers—fix the ship's position from a quantity of observations, with as small a cocked hat of error as possible, calculate the rate of sailing, the compound interest on ten pounds invested at two and three quarters per cent a thousand years ago, and games like that.'

  'In an early bestiary,' said Stephen after a long pause, 'an antiquarian of my acquaintance once showed me a picture of an amphisbaena, a serpent with a head at each end. I forget its moral significance but I do remember its form—its immensely enviable power of looking fore and aft'—he slightly emphasized the nautical term and went on, 'All this bell I have been twisting and turning like a soul in torment, trying to make out the Pomone behind and the Ringle, God bless her, together with the fabled city of Spalato in front. My buttocks are a grief to me.'

  'Well, sir,' said Daniel. 'I believe I could suggest a solution, was you to tell me which you had rather see first.'

  'Oh, Ringle without a doubt.'

  'Then I will turn about, facing aft; and should Pomone heave in sight before sunset, or whenever you choose to go down on deck, I will give you the word. But before I turn let me beg you to look at Brazza again, the big island well beyond the point of Lesina: then to the left of Brazza you have some low-lying land: and when we are a little closer you will see a narrow passage between it and Brazza. Indeed, you could see it now, with your glass.'

  'So I can: very dark and very narrow.'

  'Well, from the way he is trimming sail, I believe Mr Woodbine means to take us through in spite of the wind abeam. He knows these waters uncommon well. It is not very long, thanks be, and we are a weatherly ship: and when you are through, there is Spalato right before you.'

  There indeed was Spalato right before them, the horrors of the very dark and very narrow passage forgotten and the setting sun casting an indistinct but wonderfully moving glory on the enormous rectangle of Diocletian's palace.

  And before Surprise was wholly clear of the channel the immense voice of the lookout at the foremasthead called, 'On deck, there. On deck. Ringle fine on the starboard bow.'

  Jack instantly gave a series of orders: before she reached the open water the frigate was under bare poles, riding to a kedge in the gentle outward current. By the time Ringle was alongside and Reade aboard Surprise with Dr Jacob, darkness had fallen, and fireflies could be seen drifting across the strait.

  Jack took them both below, but Jacob was bleeding so profusely from a wound that he had contrived to inflict upon himself as he came up the side, probably on a shattered length of the gunwale, that Stephen had to lead him away, send his breeches to be soaked in cold water at once, sew up the gash, and then ask Poll to bandage it and to find a pair of clean duck trousers that would fit. While this was doing, Jacob asked, 'You did not receive my dispatches, I suppose?'

  'Never a one. Have the Brotherhood's messengers left?'

  'Three days ago. Your friends in Kutali received me nobly and told me a great deal: let me summarize. In the very first place the Sheikh of Azgar has promised the sum required for the mercenaries: the news came more than a week ago. The Russians and Austrians are still dawdling—there is said to be suspicion, ill-will, on both sides. Zeal among the Moslem Bonapartists reached a feverish point when a pilgrim back from one of the Shiite shrines in the farther Atlas reported seeing the gold being weighed out in the presence of Ibn Hazm as he passed through Azgar. The heads of the Brotherhood met in a Moslem village, resolved all difficulties to do with personal dislikes and rivalries and appointed five of their most considerable members, two of them influential figures in Constantinople. They are riding by the pashas' relays to Durazzo and there they will take one of Selim's fast-sailing houarios for Algiers. There they are to beg the Dey to transport the money, the treasure, promised by the Sheikh. It may be possible to intercept them between Pantellaria and Kelibia.'

  Jack opened the door of the sick-bay and looked in. 'Forgive me for interrupting you,' he said, 'but I just wanted to ask Dr Jacob where the French frigate is lying.'

  'Over by the Marsa, sir, the broad northern end. There are some merchantmen from the Barbary Coast fairly near.'

  'How many guns does she carry?'

  'I am sorry to s
ay that I never noticed, sir, but so many, according to his secretary, that he could not decently surrender to a little nine-pounder frigate.'

  'I see,' said Jack. 'Thank you, Doctor.'

  'I am afraid I offended him,' said Jacob, when the door had closed.

  'Never in life, colleague,' said Stephen. 'Pray go on.'

  But Jacob had been shaken by that cold look of dislike that it took him some moments to collect his ideas. 'Yes,' he said, 'well, I took it upon myself to send word to our friend in Ancona and to arrange a meeting with the heads of the Carbonari as soon as you should appear. I hope this does not embarrass you?'

  'Not in the least. Has a time been named?'

  'Just after the rising of the moon.'

  'At what o'clock would that be?'

  'I took it to be at night, of course, but I am sorry to say I cannot be more precise.'

  'I have seen the moon by day, looking very whimsical in the presence of the sun. However. I shall ask the Commodore.'

  'Commodore, dear,' he said some moments later, 'would you know when the moon rises tonight?'

  'At thirty-three minutes after midnight; and she is just five degrees below the planet Mars. And Stephen, let me tell you something: Pomone is in this channel, no great way astern. If I were on my own I should send a French-speaking officer aboard the French frigate to tell her captain that Pomone, a thirty-gun eighteen-pounder frigate, and the twelve-pounder Surprise would enter the harbour at first light tomorrow, that they would fire half a dozen blank broadsides at close range, to which he would respond, also with blanks; and that then, decencies preserved, we should all make sail, leaving by the broad north-west passage if this leading wind holds as I expect, and proceed to Malta. But would this interfere with your plans?'

  'Not in the least: and if you wish I will carry your proposal over to the Cerbère.'

  'That would be very kind of you, Stephen. Should you like me to write it down?'

  'If you please.'

  Jack scratched for a while, and passing the list he said, 'You will see that I have underlined blank every time: but in his agitation the poor man might not think to draw all his guns before the first exchange. You will put him in mind of it, if you please . . . but tactfully, tactfully, if you know what I mean.'

  'What would be a proper time for this visit?' asked Stephen without the least sign of having heard but reflecting upon his friend's large, clear, somewhat round and feminine hand, his instant reaction in time of nautical crisis, and his not uncommon ineptitudes.

  'As soon as you have put on your good uniform and Killick has found your best wig. A boat and a bosun's chair will be ready.'

  The captain and the officers of Cerbère were an intelligent set, and since captains usually collect men of a like mind, they were all thoroughly dissatisfied with the present state of affairs. They longed to be out of this ambiguous posture, and it was with a general satisfaction that they saw the light of a boat pulling, man-of-war fashion, from the narrow mouth of the Porte di Spalato. They all of them studied it with their night-glasses and when its obvious intention was to come aboard them, the officer of the watch ordered a bosun's chair to be rigged: they had already experienced Dr Jacob's almost fatal attempt at coming up the side.

  They hailed the boat as a matter of form, and they were somewhat shocked when the reply 'a message from the English commodore', though in French, was not in Jacob's French. However, they lowered the chair and Stephen came aboard with what grace could be managed with such a vehicle but at least dry, clean and orderly.

  He returned the first lieutenant's salute, said that he should like to speak to the captain, and was shown into the great cabin.

  Captain Delalande received him with a grave courtesy and listened to what he had to say in silence: when Stephen had finished he said, 'Be so good as to tell the Commodore, with my compliments, that I agree to all his proposals, and that I shall reply to his and his consort's blank broadsides with an equal number, equally blank, that I shall follow him through the Canale di Spalato, and then proceed to Malta.' He coughed, unbent a little, and proposed coffee.

  When they had drunk two cups and eaten two Dalmatian almond biscuits, the tension had so far diminished that Stephen asked whether the captain had ever known the firing of a salute or the like to be accompanied by the involuntary discharge of a ball, the drawing of the cannon having been overlooked.

  'No, sir,' said Delalande, 'I have not. When we fire a salute or anything of that nature, we like the gun to make as much noise as possible. And to this end we withdraw the ball—in itself precious enough, I assure you, and much regarded by the Ministry—and replace it with more wads and sometimes a disk or two of wood as well.'

  Stephen thanked him and took his leave, escorted by a lieutenant; and not only on the quarterdeck but also in the waist of the ship among the hands he noticed approving, even friendly looks. It was not only in the Royal Navy, he concluded, that secrecy was the rarest commodity aboard a ship.

  'My dear William,' he said, safely on the tender's deck, 'I dare say the moon will be up presently?'

  'In about half an hour, sir,' said Reade.

  'Then if it can be spared, would you be so very kind as to lend me your little boat and a reliable, grave, sober man to carry Dr Jacob and me ashore in let us say twenty minutes?'

  'Of course I will, sir: should be very happy.'

  'Jack,' he said, walking into the cabin where the Commodore and his clerk were busy with book after book of accounts, 'I do beg your pardon for this untimely . . .'

  'Tomorrow morning, Mr Adams.'

  '. . . but I have first to tell you that Captain Delalande wholly accepts your proposals: he will expect you at first light tomorrow.'

  'Oh, I am so . . .'

  'On the other hand the Brotherhood's messengers have already left for Algiers. Now I must write a minute for Malta and then go to a conference ashore. Until tomorrow, brother.'

  'The doctors are going ashore,' said Joe Plaice to his old friend Barret Bonden.

  'I don't blame them,' said Bonden. 'I should like to see the sights of Spalato myself. I dare say they are going to burn a candle to some saint.'

  'That's a genteel way of putting it,' said Plaice.

  At six bells in the middle watch, when all the larboard and most of the starboard guns had been drawn and reloaded with powder that Jack kept for saluting, the doctors came back. They were kindly helped up the side by powerful seamen and they crept, weary and bowed, towards their beds.

  'Wholly shagged out,' said the gunner's mate. 'Dear me, they can't hardly walk.'

  'Well, we are all of us human,' said the yeoman of the sheets.

  'There you are, gentlemen,' called the Commodore from by the wheel. 'You have come aboard again, I find. Let me advise you to get what sleep you can, for presently there may be too much noise for it.'

  'Kedge up and down,' cried Whewell from the bows.

  'Win her briskly, Mr Whewell,' said Jack, and directing his voice aft, 'Are you ready, Master Gunner?'

  'Ready, aye ready, sir,' replied the gunner, that bull of Bashan.

  'Mr Woodbine,' said Jack to the master, 'we will take her in now: just topsails. You can make out the Frenchman's lights, I believe?'

  'Oh yes, sir.'

  'Then steer for a point a cable's length astern of her and then run up her larboard side within fifty yards. But I shall be on deck again by then.' He walked aft and called over the dark water, 'Pomone!'

  'Sir?' replied Captain Vaux.

  'I am about to get under way.'

  'Very good, sir.'

  'Hands to make sail,' said the master to the bosun, who instantly piped the invariable call. 'Topsails,' said the master. In almost total silence the hands appointed to gaskets, sheets, clewlines and buntlines, ties, halyards and then braces carried out their tasks with barely a word, at great speed: a pretty example of exact timing, co-ordination and long-established skill, if there had been anyone there who did not take it for granted.
/>   The topsails rose; they filled and they were sheeted home: the ship began to move, with the warm breeze steady on her larboard quarter. Within moments she had steerageway, and the water spoke down her side, as gently as the breeze in the rigging: out of the shelter of Brazza she began to roll and pitch just a little—it was life renewed after that lying-to.

  Light there was none, apart from the faint blur of the moon behind very high cloud—never a star—and here and there remote top-lanterns on the shipping far on the starboard bow and the odd cluster of lights on the distant quay. Dark and silent: so dark that even the topsails grew faint towards the height of the cross-trees.

  All along the starboard side the gun-crews stood mute, some just visible above their shaded fighting-lanterns: midshipmen or master's mates behind them: lieutenants behind each division.

  Mr Woodbine kept his eyes fixed on the Cerbère's lit stern from the moment they cleared the channel: it grew larger, brighter and brighter. He glanced across at the Commodore, who nodded. 'Round to,' said Woodbine to the man at the wheel, and then, as Surprise's turn laid her parallel to the Cerbère, 'Dyce, very well dyce,' and he steadied her on this course. When her bows came level with the Frenchman's quarter the master backed the main topsail, taking the way off her, and Jack cried 'Fire!'

  Instantly the ship's side shot forth an enormous volume of sound and an immense smoke-bank lit with brilliant flashes—smoke that drifted evenly over the Cerbère, which replied through it with an even greater roar—greater, though as Jack noticed with satisfaction, not quite so exactly uniform.