Watery Grave (12 page)

“But surely it is not too late to mar)” said she.” You are still ayoung man, still vigorous.”

“The Navy seems to disagree with you on that, dear lady, else I would not have been put in the position I now hold. But alas, in any case, I fear I am too set in my bachelor ways to be a proper mate for any woman.” Sir Robert gave a light, dismissive laugh.” Oh, I confess that in seeking your sympathy, my lady, I have painted a rather bleak picture of my state,” he continued.” I am only recently come to London. When I have found proper lodgings my situation will be much improved. Then I shall be in a position to return your kind hospitality. Jack.”

Yet Lady Fielding pressed the point: “Have many naval officers decided as you have to remain bachelors?”

“Not most, certainly, but a goodly number.”

“I should not like to think that I should be deprived of grandchildren. My son, you see, seeks a career in the Navy.”

At this point the admiral raised his eyebrows and looked across the table toward me.” Do you mean Jeremy here? He is certainly a likely-looking lad. He would make a proper midshipman.”

Before Lady Fielding could correct his error, Sir John raised his hand toward her and spoke forth.

“No, Bobbie, Jeremy’s for the law — or so he has told me. Kate refers to her son by her first marriage, Tom Durham, who sits at your right.”

And of course, the admiral then turned to his right and gave Tom close inspection. He seemed unsure in his assessment.

“I would not be altogether discouraging,” said he, “but the matter of age might … How old are you, young man?”

“I am sixteen years of age, Sir Robert,” answered Tom right smartly.

“Sixteen, is it? I would have taken you for at least two years older — oh, at least that. But indeed sixteen would not be judged too old for an appointment as midshipman. How do you feel about it, young sir? Life on the sea is the roughest sort of life you can imagine. There are dangers at every hand. There are not only dangers of war, but also dangers of the elements. No landsman can begin to suppose the rigors of a storm at sea.”

“I believe I am up to it, sir.”

Then did Lady Fielding break in most impulsively: “Tom has already experienced the dangers you describe, Sir Robert.”

“Oh? And how did that come to pass?” The admiral continued to address Tom Durham.

Though for different reasons as curious as Sir Robert as to how that question might be answered, I turned my attention to Sir John, who had earlier voiced some hesitation with regard to bringing up the circumstances of Tom’s naval service. Although Sir John’s eyes were covered, as always, with a band of black silk, and were therefore unreadable, I saw that his brow was furrowed in a frown, and his fork had stopped midway in its passage to his mouth.

And then the answer from Tom: “I have served as an ordinary seaman on the H.M.S.
Adventure
, the last year as foretopman, sir.”

Far from being put out of sorts by the blunt response he’d been given, the admiral chuckled heartily.

“You don’t mean it! ” said he.” I had wondered at your dark color and your nautical gait. But young sir, you wear clothes as a proper gentleman, and you certainly talk as one.” He broke off then and looked from Tom to Lady Fielding and back again.” I hope you did not wound your mother by running away to sea, as boys sometimes do … ?”

“No, sir, I —”

“Tom is a court boy.” Sir John interrupted in a voice low but commanding; Tom fell immediately silent as the magistrate continued, explaining the dark circumstances which had led to his enlistment in the Royal Navy. He mentioned that it had taken the personal intercession of Queen Charlotte herself to rescue Tom and another boy from the hangman.

Sir Robert, who had maintained a respectful silence throughout Sir John’s long explanation, nodded seriously, and withheld comment for a long moment.

“I see, ” said he at last.” And now his mother wishes to see him an officer?”

“No,” said Sir John, “I must make it clear that it was my idea and mine alone to seek an appointment for Tom as midshipman. When I met him off the
Adventure
two days past, I met a lad who loved the sea and its life with a great passion. I found that he had risen from galley scullion to ordinary seaman to foretopman in the space of the frigate’s duty on the India station. Though but a boy, he had participated in battle with pirates and privateers —close battle, for you know how such do their villainous work. He earned his promotion from the galley by his conduct under fire. I found a young man who had been well educated to the age of thirteen at Westminster School, one blessed with natural gifts of intelligence, strength, and endurance. In short, I found one who would make a superb officer in the Royal Navy, one who would gladly have been accepted as midshipman three years ago, save for the single mark against him. It is my contention that he would still make a fine officer, and that his experience as seaman would make him an outstanding midshipman.”

“You make a strong case. Jack.”

“I mean to, Bobbie.”

“I won’t pretend that such an appointment would not meet opposition. If his background were known, and in all fairness to the process it would have to be revealed, some Member of Parliament would say, ‘Why not choose instead the son of Squire Whosomever in Northampton, who is a positive angel?’ No, it would not be easy, but I believe Tom Durham to be as you describe him and I will give him — and you — all support possible in your suit for his appointment. That I promise you.”

“I could not ask for more, dear friend.”

“However, Jack, let me give you a bit of advice. I would at the same time, if I was you, explore another channel to gain your goal. You said that you had gained the help of Queen Charlotte herself in your original effort to send this lad off to sea. His success on the
Adventure
proves the good sense of your plan of enlisting boys into the Navy. Why not write her of Tom here and of your wish to see him a midshipman? His success as an officer would further validate her faith in the enterprise. There are, you know, so-called ‘King’s-letter’ boys —not many but a few — who receive their appointments as midshipmen direct from the King. There could be no arguing against Tom’s appointment if it came from such a source.”

“On high, as it were? But aren’t such King’s letters only granted to the sons of the nobility and lesser lords?”

“Usually —but not always. I think you would be remiss to neglect that avenue.”

“Then I shall certainly do as you suggest.”

There the matter ended between the two men as they finished their plates. My Lady Fielding directed her attention downward to a few choice morsels of lamb left on the bone before her; yet she could bare hide the pleased smile that played upon her lips, having heard the matter she had brought up settled so much to her liking. Only Tom and I were left to rove about with our eyes. We looked up the table and down and finally across the table at one another. He winked at me. I winked at him. Thus we commented favorably upon the proceedings.

Both the admiral and the magistrate passed down their plates to be refilled.

“A bit more of that lamb, if I may,” was the request from one.

“Yes, I’ll have more, as well,” from the other.

They were duly served by Tom, who provided each with a second chop and a slice from the leg. Each fell silent again as they fell to the work of chewing and swallowing with great earnestness. Minutes passed thus. Vice-Admiral Sir Robert was the first to speak.

“My lady,” said he, “I take it you, too, favor this career for your son?”

“I do, yes,” said she.” Let me assure you, Sir Robert, that my son will have his life on the sea, whether it be as seaman or officer. He has made that plain to me. If my husband believes Tom would make a proper officer, then naturally I favor that.”

“As a good wife would and should, no doubt. Yet my lady, I would not let you hold illusions as to the safety of an officer in the Royal Navy. When a ship goes down in a great storm, as happens now and again, officers perish along with the crew. When in battle, officers are obliged to stand fast and offer good example to the men; their uniforms make them grand targets for enemy musketry. In short, they run greater risks. Let no one tell you otherwise.”

Throughout this oration Sir John had listened and eaten undisturbed, his expression unaltered; at the end of it, he beckoned with his empty glass, and Tom left his chair with the bottle to fill it.

His wife, for her part, looked the admiral straight in the eye and nodded her understanding of each grim possibility that was put before her.

“Nevertheless,” said she when he had done, “my son wants it, and my husband wants it for him. There is little more to say, is there?”

“Perhaps this,” said Sir Robert, “and I shall make it as brief as I can. It is a story that is worth telling on three counts, I believe. First of all, it illustrates that not even midshipmen are immune to such dangers as I have described. Secondly, it is an instance of bravery from which young Tom here may take inspiration. Thirdly, I think it is not a story well known in this company”.

“All this happened during the siege of Cartagena in the war with the French and Spanish near thirty years ago. Now, Cartagena was the great port of the Spanish on the Carib Sea m the southern part of the Americas. Gold and silver Bowed through it, and the Spanish kept a fleet of warships there. Its capture would no doubt have made a quick end to a war which went on for many years afterward, for we would have cut the Spaniards’ purse strings. Yet this campaign, which brought together both Army and Navy, generals and admirals, was both ill conceived and badly executed.

“There were fleet marines on every one of our ships, of course, and full battalions of Army on the big men-of-war, most of them —marines as well as soldiers —raw recruits never before under fire. There were two fortresses guarding the entry to the inner harbor, Boca Chica, which mounted eighty-four guns, and St. Joseph with thirty-six; both also mounted mortars, as was soon to be discovered. The generals insisted on holding back their soldiers for the assault on the inner harbor and the town, and as it was up to the Navy to blast a path past these two fortresses and to take them by storm, marines were landed at Boca Chica and a detachment of armed sailors at St. Joseph. Our ship, the Resolute, landed its marines under cover of darkness from a position in cannonade range of the fort. The marines numbered a hundred, and what with equipment and armaments it took several trips by cutter to transport the landing party from ship to shore. By the time the last of the marines had been landed, dawn had broken, and the bombardment had begun. The midshipman who commanded the cutter saw that return to the Rejoliite would be impossible, and so he ordered his oarsmen to take up their pistols and powder horns, and he took them to join the marines on the beach.

“The midshipman reported with his cutter crew to the ship’s lieutenant who was in charge of the landing party. The lieutenant immediately put this young lad, who was but a year older than Tom, in charge of a battery of mortars which they had brought from the ship, for though the marines were not great in number, they were well armed. They had set up behind a hastily thrown-up parapet of sandy earth and beach wood covered by hides. Thus they were reasonably impervious to musket fire from the Spanish in the fortress—yet not to mortar fire, for as they, from behind the rampart, rained down shot from their small mortars upon the fortress, the Spanish responded in kind with their larger ones. Thus they dueled as the grander duel took place between the guns of the fleet, a great many in number, and the eighty-four cannons of Boca Chica fortress. It continued thus for the better part of the morning — a frightful din there on the beach —and there were casualties among the landing party. Among them was its head, the lieutenant from the Resolute; he was quite blown apart by a mortar round from the Spanish.

“When informed of this, the young midshipman, who was up for his lieutenant’s examination within a month, ran to take the place of the dead officer, and he left in charge of his mortar battery a marine sergeant. It was from this marine sergeant that I got the whole of the story. Toward the end of the morning, a breach was opened in the wall of the fortress by the ships’ guns. It was then the midshipman knew that it was time to act. He took up the musket of a fallen marine and ordered all to fix bayonets. He jumped atop the parapet, and as a signal to advance, he fired the musket at the fort. Now, it sometimes happens that in the heat of battle a man lacking experience and composure may unintentionally double-load his musket. The dead marine who gave up his weapon to the midshipman must have been so rattled that he loaded his thrice, for as the sergeant told it, there was a great flash as the midshipman fired. The young lad staggered, recovered himself, and drew the officer’s sword, which he had buckled on. He waved it, pointed it, and led them forth, bayonets fixed, at a quick march.

“It is my experience that the mass of men are capable of surprising bravery, but they must be led. They were truly led across that expanse of beach by that midshipman. The Spaniards, knowing not what to think of this sudden advance, nor if indeed a second or even a third line of marines might follow over the parapet, began to desert their cannons, which were in any case useless against a foot assault, for they were trained out into the harbor. The bombardment from the fleet was lifted. Soon the marines, led by the midshipman, reached a point where the mortars could do them no harm. Yet musket fire rattled down upon them from the rear guard left by the Spanish to cover the cannoneers’ hasty exit out the rear. The midshipman stopped their advance twice to order return musket fire and reload. After the second fusillade they were but steps from the breach in the wall of the fortress. With a sweep of his sword and a great yell, the midshipman bade them through the gap at double time. They overtook him, ran beside him and beyond, yet he crashed into the wall.

“He lay dazed as the marines and his cutter oarsmen swept by and through to the consternation of the remaining Spaniards. Those of the defenders who did not surrender escaped. Boca Chica had fallen. The marine sergeant, believing the young midshipman to be wounded or dead, went back to the wall, and there he found him on his feet, still dazed but unable to see. He had been blinded by the flash from that overloaded musket. They had been led across the beach in that brave assault by a blind man.”