‘It is a legal trade, Mr Smosh,’ Barthe reminded him, ‘no matter how reprehensible one feels it might be.’
Smosh turned readily upon the sailing master. ‘Legal at this time. I pray that will soon change, for it is a blot upon the character of our people.’
‘What am I to do, Mr Smosh?’ Hayden asked the parson. ‘I cannot leave this ship to drift on toward the reefs and dangers that lie ahead.’
‘No, Captain, you cannot. You must not, but—’
But Barthe interrupted. ‘If her cargo were wool, Mr Smosh, or any other commodity you care to name, we would be entitled to a portion of her profits if we towed her into port. That is the custom of the sea. You might not approve of the theft of the poor sheep’s wool, but should we then leave the ship carrying that wool to drift? Or are you suggesting we must carry it into port for no profit at all?’
‘That is precisely what I am suggesting – nay, urging – Mr Barthe.’
‘Well, you have not spent your life at sea, Mr Smosh,’ Barthe replied testily, ‘and are not yet fully versed in the practices and customs. If we save this master and his cargo, we are entitled to be paid for it, and paid handsomely, no matter if he carries wool or men … and you will receive a portion of that money.’
Smosh drew himself both up and back half a step. ‘I should not take it were it a fortune, Mr Barthe. I should not allow a single piece of such lucre to cross my palm.’
‘The officers shall be glad to hear of it,’ Barthe informed him, ‘for we will happily divide up your share. Thank you.’
In truth, Hayden was largely in sympathy with Mr Smosh in this matter, but he had his officers to think of, and they – even those who bore strong feelings against the trade of slaves – would expect their share of any moneys which derived from the rescue of this stricken ship.
‘I cannot leave this vessel to drift and I cannot refuse the master’s offer without provoking all my officers and crew, who will feel sorely cheated – cheated by me. I will not have my own men hold such feelings against me, Mr Smosh. There is little enough profit in this life as it is.’
Smosh made a little bow. ‘Captain, I beg you reconsider. Profiting from the sale of these poor souls – it is damnable, sir. Damnable.’
‘I have little choice, Mr Smosh. It is a legal trade – though we are of one mind in this; I disapprove of it heartily.’
Smosh said nothing, but neither did he make any sign that he accepted his captain’s decision. There was no doubt in Hayden’s mind, though – he would rather an unhappy parson than an unhappy ship.
‘Ten per cent, Mr Barthe?’
The master nodded once.
Hayden crossed the deck to the slaver’s master.
‘Ten per cent, Captain LeClerc, and we have an arrangement. Shall I have my clerk draw up an agreement?’
LeClerc hesitated, but then nodded and offered his hand to Hayden.
Hayden turned to Barthe and Archer. ‘Arrange gear to take this ship in tow, if you please. And Mr Archer, we no longer need to be at quarters.’
Guns were boused up against bulwarks and the crew set to arranging gear to tow. It was a common enough task, for prizes were often too damaged to sail, and after actions British ships sometimes had to be towed back to port.
Cables were arranged and a messenger line rowed over to the slaver so that a larger cable could be carried across. As well as the business was managed, it still took a good part of the forenoon. When the Themis was put on course again, her speed was not half what it had been.
‘Barbados recedes before us, Captain,’ Wickham offered as he stood by the taffrail beside Hayden, watching the slaver set her scrap of canvas to aid their efforts.
‘So it would appear, Mr Wickham. I have not asked in some time, but how fares your hurt?’
‘Well enough, sir. I have one finger that does not obey my commands, but the physician said I was lucky not to lose half my limb, sir. I am but four-fingered on that hand but I count myself lucky, even so.’
‘You were luckier not to bleed away your life. Griffiths preserved more than your arm.’
‘So he did, sir, and I shall never forget it.’
The two stood awkwardly a moment. Hayden realized that Wickham now bore a reminder of his mortality with him – into every action, every cutting-out expedition, into every storm even. He would never be free of it. The service did this to the young gentlemen – brought them to maturity before their time.
Wickham went off about his business, leaving Hayden at the taffrail watching their tow, gauging the skill of her helmsmen, for if she were not steered well she would sheer and part the tow cable – and anyone upon Hayden’s quarterdeck would be in mortal danger should the cable whip back before it fell into the smothering sea. He decided that the master of the ship must know his business, for the men at the helm were keeping her steady before the seas.
‘Did you expect to enter the slave trade on this voyage, Captain?’ It was Angel, appearing at his elbow, and his conversation with Mr Percival on the maintop came back to Hayden.
Have you not noticed, Captain Hayden, that Angel is often in your company?
‘I did not, but then neither did I expect to be dressed as a French captain, upon a French ship, chasing English mutineers … but that occurred, as well.’
‘You seem always to be somewhat at war with yourself, Captain,’ Angel observed. ‘Your French side at odds with your English. Your feelings about slavery at odds with your desire to save the lives of these unfortunates – not to mention keeping your avaricious crew happy.’
‘I should not call them avaricious,’ Hayden answered firmly. ‘Do you know how few opportunities these men will have in their lives to possess more money than they require to but meet their daily needs? Prize money can mean the difference between their children going hungry or having food upon their table. Do not judge them for this desire.’
‘I do not judge them,’ Angel said with emotion. ‘I lost everything I possessed when the Medea went down. I understand their situation better than most might imagine.’
Hayden turned to regard the young Spaniard. ‘But surely you have family, Angel. The uncle you go to …?’
Angel seemed to hesitate, but then nodded. ‘Yes, my situation is not the same as your sailors’. I did not mean to compare my lot to theirs.’ He said nothing a moment, and Hayden found himself gazing at the young Spaniard’s face. Was he indeed a woman in disguise? Or could Percival have merely decided to create some mischief by telling Hayden this story?
‘I have been thinking, Captain Hayden,’ Angel said, so no other might hear, ‘that I overstepped the boundaries of … politeness. I should never have suggested that you failed in some way to speak as you should with the woman you courted. I could not know what was in her mind and it was not my place to speak as I did. I apologize.’
‘You have no need of doing so,’ Hayden replied. ‘I fear your insight was entirely correct but came too late. I should have spoken but did not comprehend my situation. If only I had known to say, “I shall give up the sea and make my way ashore, for a life without you shall be but half a life.” Perhaps that would have won her heart.’
‘It would win the heart of many a woman, Captain,’ Angel said with surprising feeling, and then turned, hurried to the companionway and disappeared below without so much as a nod or a ‘by your leave’.
Hayden stared at the deck opening down which the Spaniard had retreated. He could not have been more astonished or confused had Angel slapped his face.
Either Percival is correct, he thought, or Angel is of the same persuasion as Percival himself. Certainly Angel’s response to the declaration Hayden should have made to Henrietta would never have been expected of a young man with the common desire for women. Hayden shook his head, his thoughts in a tangle of confusion.
Was it possible that Percival had seen something that no other man aboard could see? Hayden turned to stare aft. He was beginning to feel Percival was not wrong. There was a
young woman living in his cabin and he seemed to have attached her feelings without even being aware of her sex!
Inexplicably, thoughts of Henrietta came to mind – Henrietta, who was, by now, married; Henrietta, who had chosen another over him.
Hayden shook his head. Somehow, he had secretly hoped she would undergo a change of heart. And so, here he was, yearning for her yet.
I am the captain of a machine of war, he thought – not some love-sick youth. If she can make a life without me, I can do the same without her. Pining is overly romantic, if not puerile.
He gazed at the confused wake trailing along behind and, at the distant end of the long tow rope, the slaver.
Too many regrets trailed behind him and would not release their grip.
He wondered again at Angel’s response to his words. What had he said? ‘I shall give up the sea and make my way ashore, for a life without you shall be but half a life.’
‘It would win the heart of many a woman, Captain,’ Angel had replied, before colouring and hurrying below.
I should stopper my mouth, Hayden thought. When I do speak, my words always land me in trouble.
A foul odour assaulted his senses then, carried to him on the pure ocean trade, the smell of men lying in their own filth, entombed in excrement and transported to a life of confinement and endless toil.
Perhaps I spoke wrongly in this matter as well, Hayden thought. Mr Smosh counselled me otherwise, but I did not heed his words. Perhaps he did speak for a higher power and I turned my back.
Eight
The calculation of each man’s share of the profits from the delivery of the slaver became the sole diversion – perhaps the compulsion – of the Themis’s people. Debts were both paid and entered into on the basis of this, as yet, unearned capital. The estimates of the moneys coming to the Themis varied; in the majority of cases, according to the character of those doing the valuing. The older and more cynical tended to talk in terms of a few pounds and cautioned others not to squander moneys that were not yet in their purse. The optimists, the young and the generally feckless, however, reckoned themselves as wealthy as lords – and not all of these were uneducated hands. This rule, however, did not hold in all cases. A few who by experience or years should have known better began to see, if not mountains, at least hills of gold. Mr Barthe, to Hayden’s utter surprise, was one of these. His appraisal of the slaves’ value increased several times each day and his plans for these moneys became more grandiose each hour. This had become an object of general amusement among the other officers – that is, among those who were not daydreaming of coaches and manor houses of their own.
Hayden thought there was much to be learned from observing the manner in which each man, sometimes in opposition to his humour, responded to this impending wealth. Barthe, commonly the most bitter and cynical of his officers, was now revealing himself to be the most prone to wishfulness.
Others, however, were deeply unsettled by the whole business and found the dark shadow of the slaver trailing behind as distressing as the discovery of a lump growing in the guts, its existence half denied and utterly dismaying. Smosh spoke openly of the evil in their wake and he had a good number of followers, these not always the most devout among his flock. Wickham had informed Hayden that he did not wish to receive any profit from the sale of slaves, and Griffiths, who could much less afford such nobility, had joined this same camp. Lieutenant Ransome, who, like Hayden, was perennially in need of money, was tortured by this matter for several days but finally decided that his hopes for a match with one of Wickham’s unmarried sisters were more critical to his future (or so Hayden assumed), for he reluctantly informed his captain that his share could be divided among those wishing to profit from such a foul enterprise. Hayden thought the young man might break down and weep when he made this pronouncement, but the young lieutenant mastered his feelings.
There was yet another faction among his crew, and it was, in Hayden’s view, the most fascinating of all. The ideas of this group were being expounded on the quarterdeck within Hayden’s hearing as he worked at his table.
‘Well, let me ask you, Doctor,’ Mr Barthe’s voice came down the skylight, ‘if we had not discovered this slaver, would not many – perhaps hundreds – of her unfortunate Africans have died for want of food and water?’
‘Most assuredly they would, Mr Barthe,’ the doctor replied.
‘And would you not agree that it is better to be a live slave working some plantation than to die at sea?’
‘I suppose I must agree that slavery is a small improvement over that particular alternative, but—’
But Barthe was not finished. ‘Then more good has come of our efforts than evil, one must admit …?’
‘Mr Barthe,’ the doctor argued, ‘all this rationalization and extenuation does not excuse an institution that takes free men from their homes, reduces them to the state of property and forces them to labour for the good and profit of others.’
‘I agree, Doctor. You could not be more right, but, as we have saved their poor lives, and by the traditions and laws of the sea we are entitled to an agreed upon share of the profits, there is but one thing any man of conscience might do … I, and many others, intend to give a portion of our legal earnings – legal, mind you – to an anti-slaving society.’
‘Let me see if I comprehend what you have proposed, Mr Barthe,’ the doctor answered. ‘Though you disagree vehemently with the institution of slavery, you are about to profit from the sale of slaves? To somehow purify this profit, and to absolve yourself of your involvement, you intend to give a portion of your money to men who are fighting to make slavery illegal in Britain and her colonies?’
‘You miss my point, Doctor. I am about to profit from the preservation of hundreds of lives.’
‘But you preserve those lives so that they might be sold into slavery – and your profits will come from that sale, Mr Barthe. You are, in effect, no different from an investor in a slaving expedition. Do you not see a contradiction, Mr Barthe, in making profit from selling free men into slavery and then taking some part of that profit and giving it to those who fight that terrible practice?’
‘But if I do not take my rightful share, Doctor, it will be divided up among others who do not share my beliefs. No part of it will then go to the cause of abolition. How is slavery to be abolished if the anti-slavers are not supported? Printing pamphlets and renting halls for speakers costs money, sir, money that comes to the societies by donation.’
‘Mr Barthe, I doubt that the abolitionists would accept money from the sale of slaves. Their principles are not so … pliant as yours.’
‘Well, then I shall keep all the profits from salvaging this ship and give the anti-slaving society moneys earned from my profession, Dr Griffiths. Will that satisfy them, do you think?’
‘A society with the purpose of combatting prostitution will not, Mr Barthe, accept money from the owner of a brothel, no matter how it is earned!’
‘You misconstrue my point, Doctor … Ah, here is Mr Hawthorne. Let us present our cases before him.’
‘Abolitionists should not be frequenting brothels,’ Hawthorne immediately offered, forcing Hayden to suppress a laugh.
‘Mr Barthe is just explaining,’ the doctor informed the marine, ‘how he will give a portion of the moneys he earns from the selling of free men into slavery to the anti-slaving societies.’
‘Very kind of him,’ Hawthorne could be heard to reply, ‘but I regret to inform you, Mr Barthe, that to profit from stealing away men’s freedom and allowing them to be bought and sold like cattle is, well … reprehensible.’
‘Then I should do as you both have done and refuse my share of the profits?’ There was no audible reply to this, and Mr Barthe went on. ‘If I do this, the anti-slaving societies will receive no advantage, and I can assure you that such a decision will not aid these poor unfortunates (Hayden could only assume Barthe waved a hand toward the slave ship) in the least. I shall, by donating
some of my profits, be doing more to abolish slavery than either of you. Good day to you, sirs.’
Hayden heard the sailing master stomp off.
‘Is it possible he is right?’ Hawthorne wondered aloud.
‘Mr Hawthorne!’ the surgeon chastised.
‘But you do comprehend his position, Dr Griffiths?’
‘Mr Hawthorne, if we were to accept Mr Barthe’s argument, then why should we not finance expeditions to Africa to buy slaves, sell them across the Atlantic and give all the profits to the anti-slaving societies? That would do much to further the cause of abolition, would it not?’
‘But there is a great difference, Doctor. These slaves have already been taken from their homes and are destined for the slave markets. Unless we act to free them, which would make us all criminals and mutineers, then these poor souls will soon be plantation slaves. Their destiny cannot be changed. We could, however, do something that is within our power – give all the profit we are to make to the abolitionists. Or perhaps we could do something more substantive and buy some men – or some families – from this very ship with our profits. Buy these people and grant them their freedom?’
‘Buy slaves with the profits from the sale of slaves?’
‘Buy them and free them.’
‘Leave it to you, Mr Hawthorne, to take a clear moral issue and find some way to cloud it.’
The discussion came to an end at that moment, as Dr Griffiths was called away.
The ink had dried upon Hayden’s quill as he listened, so he swirled it in his inkwell. He had not realized that finding this stricken ship would have such an effect. Men who had never thought much – and cared less – about the institution of slavery were suddenly forced to make decisions about it. Hayden glanced out of the gallery window at the slaver bobbing in their wake, dragged bodily along as she reached the trough of each wave … as though the two ships were shackled together and their fates somehow commingled.
Until the Sea Shall Give Up Her Dead Page 7