The Seahorse

by Michael Aye

  Gil and Deborah appeared as if by magic and after much hugging, kissing, and small talk, Bart came out. After a few good-natured barbs at Gabe and a kiss on Faith’s cheek, he took Nanny and Lum in tow so they could unpack and rest a bit.

  Turning to the large two-story gray stone house, the group entered. As the door opened into a flag stone hall they were met by a butler and several maidservants. They were all trying to catch a glimpse at the old admiral’s “other” son.

  The group made their way into the main room where there hung above a huge fireplace a picture of Admiral Lord James Anthony. his old meerschaum pipe in one hand with the other on a ship’s wheel. In the background were two ships in combat, their cannons blazing.

  A servant was pouring sherry for the group. When Gabe’s glass had been filled, Anthony who had watched his brother’s eyes as he took in the painting said, “A toast…to father.”

  “To father,” Gabe echoed and downed his drink in one gulp.

  ***

  The next several days were some of the happiest Lord Anthony could remember. It was a pleasure having Gabe home…yes that was the word, home. Deborah and Faith had a good time spoiling Macayla. One evening Hugh and Becky came over and after a few awkward minutes Gabe and his sister acted like they’d been together all their lives. Each one of them was telling stories about “Gil” that made Deborah laugh till she cried.

  After dinner that evening, Lum played the lotz and fiddle. When Macayla Rose got fussy, the women gathered together to get her ready for bed. Anthony, Gabe, Hugh, and Bart made their way down to the Dolphin to have a wet and smoke their pipes. After a round or two Bart noticed a sassy little tavern wench making eyes at him. He slipped away from the bar whispering he might be in for a bit o’ mutton.

  Seeing Hugh’s confused look, Anthony explained Bart’s meaning. “You may know about farming but you’ve a lot to learn about sailors.”

  “It appears I’ve been sheltered,” Hugh admitted. “So I better spend some time with Bart learning more about these worldly ways of the farmers, yeomen, and serfs as I’ve just been made Magistrate.”

  “Well now,” Anthony bellowed, already intoxicated. “Squire Hugh is now Hugh the Magistrate. Another round, another round for all.”

  Chapter Four

  Lord Anthony had taken the family on a day trip to Walmer Castle, which had been built by Henry VIII in 1540. It was built to counter the threat of invasion by Catholic France and Spain. It was now used as a country house for the Prince Regent.

  After leaving the castle Anthony showed Lady Deborah and Faith the White Cliffs of Dover, and then they went on to Deal. “Deal,” Anthony explained, “is a fishing village that lies on the English Channel. It’s twenty to twenty-five miles across the channel to the Coast of France.”

  “Can we go there?” Faith asked.

  “Not this time but hopefully we can soon. Just off the coast is what we call the Downs.”

  Seeing Faith’s look, Gabe explained, “That’s the water between the town and the sands. It’s a good place for ships to anchor when there is foul weather.”

  “Aye,” Anthony replied. Then as grave as he could be he said in a loud whisper, “It’s also a place where smugglers abound carrying on their illicit trade. More than one revenue man has had his throat sliced from ear to ear.”

  Trying to act brave Faith said, “Well, we aren’t revenooers so we haven’t got anything to worry about. At least Lady Deborah and I don’t.”

  After refreshments at the Crispen Inn the group headed home. It was just at dark when the Admiralty messenger rode up to Deerfield. Bart happened to see him arrive and escorted the messenger in the house carrying a very large envelope with the Admiralty seal on it.

  Anthony and Gabe were sitting in the big room sharing a glass of wine while Deborah and Faith were off in another part of the house. Seeing the messenger, Anthony felt a sudden bout of nausea come over him. Damme, he thought to himself. He’d been told he’d have six months before the squadron was ready. It had only been just a week over three months. Signing for the envelope. Anthony sat down in a chair in front of the fireplace.

  Breaking the seal he wondered…Just how many times had his father done the same thing? Had he felt the anxiety and tension each time he opened the package? Was that what caused the problems between him and Mother? How would Deborah take his being recalled so soon? Would he ever be able to see little Macayla grow up? Would she know her father?

  Understanding Anthony’s need to read the envelope’s contents privately, Bart took the messenger in tow. “Let’s have a wet to wash away the dust then a bit o’ grub for yew.”

  Their footsteps echoed down the hall and Gabe, without being asked, lit a candle that stood on a small table next to Anthony’s chair. Deborah and Faith soon returned to the room. Deborah knew something was not as it should have been upon entering.

  Seeing the large envelope she cried out, “Oh no, Gil, not this soon!”

  Faith went and sat on Gabe’s knee as Anthony rose up to take Deborah in his arms. “I’m afraid so, darling. I’ve been given a new flagship and have been given command of the Windward Islands, which is headquartered in Barbados.”

  Deborah suddenly stood back. “Then I’m going, and if Gabe is to be a part of the squadron, Faith is coming along as well. If we can’t stay in Barbados, we’ll stay in Antigua.” Seeing the logic in Deborah’s statement, Anthony didn’t argue.

  Faith then spoke out, “Are you, are we going Gabe?”

  “I…I don’t know. I don’t even have a ship.”

  “Well, I don’t know for certain what it is,” Anthony said. “But Lord Sandwich has advised you report to the port admiral in Portsmouth forthwith.”

  “When do you have to report to the flagship?” Deborah asked.

  “By the end of the month. I am to relieve Admiral Crosby in October. It also appears we’ll be transporting the new governor, a Lord Ragland.”

  “Humm…do you know him?” Gabe asked.

  “I’m not sure but one of Lord Sandwich’s cronies from the Hellfire Club was a Lord Ragland.”

  “And how do you know about that sex den?” Deborah asked.

  “It was before your time, my dear, a long time before.”

  Later that night Faith snuggled so close to Gabe he could feel her chest rise and fall against his back. She then rose up and said, “You awake?”

  “I am now, why?”

  “Tell me about the Hellfire Club.”

  ***

  Gabe entered the George Inn and immediately recognized the admiral’s aide standing just outside the closed door to one of the small private rooms. The aide, seeing Gabe in his new captain’s uniform with the shiny new gold epaulet or as Bart called it “swab” setting on his right shoulder, nodded toward the bar. His way of saying, “Have a seat, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  Deciding not to report to Admiral Graham with the smell of alcohol on his breath, Gabe declined the drink and took a seat on one of the benches that lined the wall. He looked about the room and found it hard to believe that just over a month ago he’d shared a bed with Faith for the first time right above where he was now sitting. It would be miserable sleeping on a ship’s cot again. Even one the size made for the captain’s sleeping quarters.

  “Captain Anthony…Captain Anthony.”

  Realizing he was being called, Gabe looked up just in time to see a Navy captain slam the inn door shut as he rushed out. The aide ushered Gabe into the admiral’s room. Gabe immediately remembered he was one of the flag officers who had attended his wedding. He was with Admiral Moffett when Gil had paused to speak.

  He had not met the admiral previously and had only spoken to a civilian superintendent when Merlin’s hull was found to be unworthy for sea. The admiral was standing in front of an empty fireplace lighting a pipe. He was old to be a rear admiral. He was once tall but now stooped over. His bloodshot eyes had droopy bags under them. While he looked old and worn, out his voice was very f
irm.

  “It was a nice wedding you had,” the admiral said as he reached out to shake Gabe’s hand. “It was also a wonderful reception. Thank you for the invitation.”

  Gabe swallowed hard and managed, “My pleasure sir.”

  He didn’t remember sending an invitation. It had to have been Gil, he thought. He was damn glad his brother had had the wits to invite the local flag officers and dignitaries.

  “Are you ready to return to sea?” Graham asked.

  “Aye sir,” Gabe answered.

  “Good. I have a ship for you. She’s the Peregrine 36.”

  “Thank you sir!” Gabe burst out, excited at the news.

  The old admiral held up his hand to hush Gabe. “You may not thank me long. The Peregrine is an ‘unhappy ship’.”

  Gabe felt the excitement sink.

  “You lost your ship to rot. Rot made on the outside caused by shipworms. Peregrine is full of rot from the inside…a drunken captain who kept his whores with him at sea, a flog happy first lieutenant who let two seaman die under the lash. Half the crew has deserted and the other half has requested transfers. It’s a wonder we didn’t have a mutiny. I have a set of orders from the Admiralty in which I can fill in your name and the ship is yours. Or you can go home to your new bride and wait till something else becomes available.”

  Gabe wasn’t fooled by the remark about waiting until something else was available. If he turned down the ship he’d likely be on the beach the rest of his life.

  “I want her, sir.”

  “Good, good. I thought if you were anything like your father you would. Now about your crew. Lieutenant Jackson has been given a command. However, the rest have not been reassigned for the most part. Do you have a choice for your first lieutenant?”

  Lavery’s name came quickly to mind so he gave his name to the admiral. “He, Lieutenant Davy and I have been together a long time; otherwise I don’t have anyone in mind.”

  “I know of a couple that will suit you well.”

  Gabe had thought he might.

  “Now what about midshipmen?”

  “I have two, sir.”

  “I have a couple of young gentlemen whom I can recommend,” the admiral replied.

  This is going well, Gabe thought.

  “What about professional men, the warrants?”

  “I would be happy with all of Merlin’s sir, but I do need a surgeon.”

  Nodding, the admiral said, “I’ll look for you a good one.”

  Gabe had watched the admiral’s secretary make notes and was amazed at how fast his quill flew. Seeing Gabe’s gaze, Graham said, “Paper and ink. It’s paper and ink that keeps the Navy going.”

  At that time the aid returned to the room. “It’s time sir.”

  “Yes, we can’t keep anyone waiting, can we?”

  Gabe knew the interview was ending so he quickly asked, “One more question. Is Peregrine to be part of Lord Anthony’s command?”

  Seeing the admiral’s look Gabe continued, “I was with His Lordship when the Admiralty’s messenger arrived.”

  “I see,” Graham responded. “Did Lord Anthony promise you anything?”

  “No sir.”

  “Good, I’m glad to hear it. We have been friends a long time, your brother and I. I never figured him or your father to be guilty of nepotism. You got your ship because Dutch Moffett said you were the best young naval officer he’d ever seen and you were the image of Lord James. To answer your question your ship will be assigned to Lord Anthony’s command. Are you staying at your father’s house?”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Very well, your orders will be sent to you directly. You may stay ashore at night until you receive further orders.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Gabe stammered.

  “Nonsense boy, I was a strutting rooster at one time myself.”

  Chapter Five

  The Admiralty’s messenger opened the door of one of the larger private anterooms and said in a dry but polite manner, “If you would be so kind as to wait, Lord Anthony?”

  Instead of sitting Anthony looked out the window. Leaves were starting to turn in the few trees visible. It’d not be long before the first frost. Now that Deborah had decided to travel to the West Indies he wouldn’t miss England as much. He certainly wouldn’t miss the cold. Glancing toward the sky, Anthony could see the clouds were clearing. It had rained early that morning but with the sun coming out it promised to be a warm day.

  People were now filling the street and Anthony had to smile as a lady stepped around a puddle, but the two small children with her jumped into the middle and kicked water at each other. Intent upon watching the mother trying to coax the children from the puddle it took Anthony a second to realize the door had opened and he was being spoken to.

  “The First Lord will see you now, My Lord.” This was a different messenger. Old, gray haired, and stooped over, he had thick-rimmed glasses and a poorly fitting white powdered wig.

  Following behind the ancient messenger to the First Lord’s office, Anthony thought, The war will be over before my orders can be signed. He was finally ushered into Lord Sandwich’s office where he found him pouring sherry into two glasses.

  Seeing Anthony, the First Lord smiled, “Ah, Gil, won’t you join us in a glass?”

  The us meant Lord Sandwich and Lord Joseph Ragland. They had been friends since they were schoolboys together. The two had been known in their youth for not excelling in the sciences but in drink, swordplay, and general debauchery. It was said that they compiled a list of wenches they’d bedded during the week. They then presented the top ten to fellow classmates at Friday noon so that those who were boarded at the school could plan out their weekends.

  The school was tucked between St. Peter’s Abbey and London’s best confectioners at Westminster. It was a place known for higher study, religion, and the development of future leaders.

  However, the two had found it very easy to hop a fence or two, cross the grass at Green Park, cross Piccadilly and go on to Down Street. There they found cockfights and hedge taverns with brothels on the top floor. These were much more interesting to the comrades than the studies and religion at school.

  The two had remained friends in adult life. Anthony had first met Lord Ragland at the infamous Hellfire Club where he had been taken as a guest. Lord Ragland had been reciting a bawdy poem that Anthony remembered to that day:

  When I first run my tongue down your smooth thigh

  Just like a priest I kneel and bend to pray

  And gaze with his same fervor for on high

  My alter calls and sweet scents guide my way.

  Anthony’s father had frowned upon hearing his son had visited the club. “It’s a place I’d not care to have my name associated with,” he said. “It’s the devil’s own den I’m told. A place to sow a wild seed then be away from, else you’ll wind up reaping more than you sowed.”

  Anthony had taken his father’s advice. He’d read an article that Lord Ragland had had to fight half a dozen duels for his indiscretions. He then dropped out of sight for a while, returning to his family home nestled amidst the beauty and tranquility of the Welsh borderland. Oddly enough he delved into politics and for years served as a conservative member of the Welsh Parliament. He had established ties with the Duke of Wellington and now traveled in very elite circles. In short, Lord Ragland appeared to have put his hellish days behind him.

  Taking the offered glass, Anthony bowed slightly at the waist and said, “My Lord.”

  Lord Sandwich ignored the bow and held out his hand. “It’s good to see you again,” he said, vigorously shaking Anthony’s hand.

  “You have been a star in my crown, sir. You are also the one officer who has not failed or disappointed me. Although I should be jealous, you’ve made the Gazette so many times I’m envious.”

  “I’ve had good supporting officers, My Lord. Most of the credit for my success must be directed toward them.”

  “Do you hear
that, Joseph?” Sandwich asked, speaking to Lord Ragland. “The man refuses to blow his own horn.”

  “He’d never be a politician,” Ragland replied as he took the opportunity to shake Anthony’s hand.

  “I hope your wife and child are doing well,” Sandwich spoke again.

  “They’re fine, My Lord.”

  “Good…good. Has Gabe ere…ah…recovered from his honeymoon?”

  This brought a chuckle from Anthony, thinking how tired his brother appeared when he’d first arrived at Deerfield. “Sufficient enough to declare himself available to the port admiral.”

  “Good. He’s taking a good but unhappy ship. I’m sure however that he will be able to make her into a proud ship again.”

  “I have every confidence, My Lord,” Anthony responded.

  “As have I. I have a dozen senior captains who daily beg for a ship but none more deserving than Gabe.”

  “Thank you for that,” Anthony said.

  “Now let’s get down to business. You will be given command of the Windward Islands. Your senior will be Admiral Hotham, who has command of the West Indies. You will also report to Lord Ragland. He will be on hand much more than Hotham as he has been appointed as the new Governor of Barbados.”

  “My congratulations,” Anthony said, lifting his unfinished glass in salute to Lord Ragland.

  Sandwich continued, “You will be given a squadron comprised of HMS SeaHorse…a seventy-four, Intrepid…a fairly new sixty-four, two thirty-six-gun frigates…one is the Peregrine, which Gabe will command, and a couple of sloops plus a gun ketch to act as a tender. Gabe’s old first lieutenant was given command of the ketch…Ferret of sixteen guns.”

  “Now let’s talk about your mission. Your orders will be vague out of necessity. We have been given reliable information that the French will sign a treaty with the Colonies soon after the New Year. They are already building up forces to move on New York. We are also told they intend to establish bases in the West Indies and we can expect an attempt to invade several of our holdings there. As we have nothing more you will understand why your orders will be vague and open to interpretation.”