A Shot Rolling Ship Page 10

  ‘Educated enough to know on which side my bread is buttered.’ The pause, before he added a ‘Sir’ was just long enough to let this man know how much it meant.

  Colbourne sat back, so that his whole face was in light. He looked weary, hardly surprising given the tasks he had to perform which allowed for little in the way of uninterrupted sleep. ‘You have every right to be cautious, Pearce, but I am not here to probe.’

  ‘It is I who am here and wondering why?’

  Colbourne sighed. ‘There are few advantages to be had from commanding a ship like Griffin.’

  There was an insistent thought in Pearce’s mind, telling him to let the man speak, to say nothing, because even the most innocuous words could be revealing. Insistent it might be, but his anger overrode it. ‘There are more than there are for a common seaman.’

  ‘Common seaman? You may be many things, but assuredly you are no common seaman.’ Colbourne looked him in the eye, as if inviting him to confirm that statement with some supporting fact. When it did not come, he added, ‘If anything you are a supremely uncommon one.’

  Pearce responded with the faintest nod, for there was little sense in denying something so obvious.

  ‘Your mode of speech marks you out as something of a gentleman, which I recall I noticed from our first encounter. You can read and I even heard you speak French to some of the men we captured in that privateer, good French, easy French, the kind that tells me you are comfortable in the language. My own knowledge of that is too limited to be sure of what you inquired, but I did hear the word Paris mentioned more than once.’

  ‘Given the fact that we are at war with the Revolution, and the seat of that government is in Paris, what else would I ask them?’

  ‘I doubt that any bunch of sailors from the Flanders shore could tell you much.’ The silent stare was enough to impart to Colbourne that anything that had been said was his to hold. ‘I am glad you don’t deny your skill in the language.’

  ‘Why?

  Colbourne’s tone changed, the weariness was gone and it was now quite pointed. ‘It would disappoint me to have you tell me a lie.’ Getting no response he added. ‘My saying that does not make you curious?’

  ‘I cannot help feeling, Lieutenant Colbourne, that I am not the one in this cabin who is curious.’

  ‘Touché.’ Colbourne’s brow furrowed, which told Pearce that the sparring was over; that the man was about to come to the nub of why he had called him in here. ‘You know, Pearce, when you and your companions came aboard, this was an ordinary ship. I would not say a happy and contented vessel, it has too many faults for that, but no more fractious than most on such a duty. There were grumbles, there always are, and there is little point in my rehashing them for you know well what they consisted of. Then there is the added burden associated with a ship’s captain acting as his own purser, which always doubles the opprobrium in which that particular breed of individual is held.’

  ‘Every man aboard is convinced you are raking in a neat profit from the office.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Colbourne in a bitter tone. ‘Believe me, it is not a duty that I sought, it is one forced on me by the size of the ship. And as for profit, I am making so much I cannot spare a bit of sand to dry my ink. I sometimes think I would still be held in low esteem if I gave them their baccy and replaced their clothing for nothing.’

  Why is he being so revealing? That thought was mingled with a strange twinge of sympathy, for in his face, manner and words Colbourne was letting show the loneliness allied to the crushing responsibility that came with command. Limited knowledge of the Navy did not extend to ignorance of the price such an institution extracted for failure. The Articles of War that Colbourne had read out to them when they had been forced aboard applied equally to him, plus a whole load of expectations not placed upon those for whom he was responsible. He had to be diligent, brave and clever, none of which would guarantee success – that took luck as well, which was probably why he cared nothing for the damage he had inflicted on the prize they were towing in; success was more important to his chances of advancement than money.

  He could not be very well connected or he would not be here; people with powerful patrons did not end up in command of an armed cutter. It was a revelatory thought that, if anything, Colbourne had a greater desire to get off this ship than he had himself. The man craved promotion, while being well aware that such an outcome could only come from some action in which he must risk everything. Pearce had a momentary temptation to admit that he understood both those burdens, and the anxieties of running a naval ship of war, to allude to the increase his campaign to undermine discipline had engendered. The moment passed, for he could not let natural empathy interfere with his aims.

  ‘Which,’ Colbourne continued after a lengthy pause, ‘is what you have been intimating I should do. How easy it is to convince a man deprived of much that someone with a little has an abundance.’

  ‘I have done nothing that falls outside the laws under which we both labour.’

  ‘You have, I think, but not in my sight or that of anyone who would report you to me. No, the real damage has been done by your tongue. Thanks to you and your tales of the ancients, of tyrannical Kings and capricious Gods, I now have a crew that goes about its duties with a scowl, that deliberately talks every time I or my subordinates open our mouths to issue a command, that a few weeks ago went about those same duties with…’ Colbourne waved his hand searching for the word.

  ‘Ignorance?’ said Pearce, suddenly aware of the smell of coffee. It was time for the captain’s once a day luxury; his ritual. He had caught the smell before and been envious.

  ‘I wonder, does making a man wiser make him any more content?’ Since Pearce declined to respond Colbourne carried on. ‘Was it you who let loose the roundshot the other night, or was it one of your Pelicans?’ It was the word Pelican that surprised Pearce, and much as he tried to disguise that it must have shown somewhere in his reaction. ‘I know all about your little coterie. Telling tales is not an activity on which you hold a monopoly. I know where and how you were first taken up.’

  Gherson, thought Pearce, fighting to keep the certainty of that thought out of his expression. The slimy, ungrateful toad would sell his mother down the river for an extra tot of rum. No, that was not true; Gherson would do it for nothing.

  ‘I have thought long and hard about you, Pearce. How to deal with you, for I must do something if I am not to be brought to nought. You have done everything you can, inside the Articles of War, to try to raise the ire of the ship’s crew. It is not too much to say that I suspect you are intent on fermenting mutiny. If that happened, my career in the Navy could be in ruins, and I doubt the two midshipmen who depend on me would fare much better.’

  The canvas screen between them was pulled back and Teal poked his head through, that followed by a tray bearing a coffee pot and two cups. Two cups? The tray was placed on the deck, Colbourne nodded his thanks, and the steward disappeared, leaving Pearce with the thought that there, very likely, was another well-tapped source of information for the captain. Gherson was not the only one, but at least the steward could not be accused of betrayal; he owed the Pelicans and John Pearce nothing, Gherson owed them his neck.

  ‘I take it you like coffee?’

  The advent of that pot and those two cups had thrown Pearce, and he was uncomfortable with the knowledge.What was Colbourne about? He should not be here, in the cabin, chatting away. The whole notion of his plan did not include such a scenario; him at a grating as an extreme possibility, yes, taking the lash perhaps, more like gagged with a piece of wood tied to his mouth, creating the kind of grievances that would, he hoped, tear apart what little loyalty the crew retained for Colbourne, King and country. And he felt weakened by the certainty this man now pouring him coffee was showing. It was like the boot was on the other foot, with the ship’s captain knowing exactly what he was about and John Pearce being in total ignorance.

  Colbourne sighed
and looked around the cramped space. ‘How did I end up here?’

  He passed over a cup and saucer, two fine china objects which, in this setting, were exceedingly incongruous. Pearce accepted more to cover his perplexity than anything else. The first sip seemed to clear his mind, and he suddenly knew that Colbourne was trying to seduce him with kindness; to deflect him from his actions by creating an intimacy.

  ‘I am supposed to be grateful for employment when so many of my fellow lieutenants are on the beach. And I am grateful, you know, for that would be worse.’

  Pearce could see what was coming; the sort of confessional chat that would seek to suck him in, to show that Colbourne was not so very different from those he commanded, that he too was at the mercy of forces over which he had no control. Let him proceed; the coffee was pleasant if not spectacularly tasteful, an inexpensive blend that went with the lieutenant’s impecuniosity, but neither it nor the coming tale would deflect Pearce from his goal.

  ‘And yet, sometimes when I sit here, or curl up in yonder cot, I wonder if I have not deeply offended someone, a senior officer or some politician who has the ear of the Admiralty? It could even be a malicious clerk, someone in the bowels of the building who spends his days poring over the logs and muster books, and yet still has to deal with importuning letters from unemployed sailors. Did I badger them too much? Is there something in my past of which I am unaware. I worry, Pearce, that I will be stuck in this ship, condemned to plough my way up and down the English Channel until Doomsday. Forgotten by all in authority, fetching in the odd not very valuable prize, patted on the head and sent back to sea again, while men who serve aboard flagships, or with powerful patrons, proceed effortlessly past me to their post captaincy, without having ever seen an ounce of action.’

  Pearce was subjected to a look, one that sought some notion of the effect of these revelations. ‘I detect no sympathy in your demeanour, nor should I expect any. It is a cruel world we inhabit, and that to which I am being subjected is a minor scourge compared to the lot of most of my fellow men. But you can see my case, can you not. I need promotion, but how can I achieve that?’

  Pearce could not resist it, being presented with such an opening. ‘Getting half your crew killed should do the trick.’

  Colbourne actually grinned, something Pearce had never seen before, and it took years off him, making him look boyish. ‘If I do that, I stand a very good chance of getting myself killed, or even worse, so badly wounded as to render further service impossible.’

  ‘The notion would not stop you.’

  The grin had gone, to be replaced with that look of determination that was more familiar. ‘No it would not, but I would not take this ship into action on the grounds of personal gain, and I hope you believe that.’

  ‘I think it is more important that you believe it.’

  ‘But to return to you. The one thing that would sink me without hope of salvation would be a mutiny, and that is what you are intent on causing.’ A hand came up to stop Pearce responding, an unnecessary one since he had no intention of admitting what was tantamount to guilt. ‘I know of many captains who would have had you gagged to silence your tongue, some who would even have you seized up to the grating a long time ago, and who would have flogged you daily if necessary to stop your seditious tale-telling. They would have made your life a misery and enjoyed the experience. Me? I fear I am too weak a soul for such methods. I know I should employ them, but I shrink from the actuality. In short, in the article of commanding one of his Majesty’s ships, I am irresolute.’

  Intended to make Pearce feel like a scrub, it was partly successful, for he found it hard to completely dislike this man. He was half-inclined to tell him so, to let on just how often he had thought that what he was doing was unfair, but it was enough for one person in this place to be confessional.

  ‘Yet I must do something about you, Pearce, for the reasons I have outlined. I do not think I am an unpopular commander, and I know that you have not portrayed me as such. I know that you have taken the Navy, the Government and a cruel world as the hooks on which to foster discontent. Odd that you have a power to command men that I actually envy. Not everyone, of course, but you have so suborned a substantial portion of my crew that they look to you before they look to the natural authority that I represent. So, what to do?’

  ‘Let me and my companions off the ship.’

  ‘Which you are well aware I cannot contemplate.’

  ‘Leave?’

  ‘We will not be in harbour long enough to justify the granting of it, and what would be said when I complained of being short-handed, if I was known to be giving men leave of absence?’

  ‘We are willing to desert.’

  ‘Complicity in such as that, if it were ever exposed, would harm me more than a mutiny and what makes you think you would not be caught. The port we are about to enter, as well as the forest behind it, is teeming with rogues who make part of their living from selling deserters back to the Navy. You may think you can outwit them, but look at you, in your sailors’ ducks.’

  ‘I have a change of clothes.’

  ‘You do, but that will not suffice. What about your hands, Pearce, look at the tar that has become ingrained in your flesh from hauling on ropes. Try telling some gang of crimps that you are not a sailor. They will nod, Pearce, then they will laugh, and then they will bind you tight and frogmarch you to the nearest officer of the Press and collect their bounty. I am tempted to ask,’ Colbourne continued, ‘what you intended to do once you had caused your mutiny. Having gained control of the ship, where would you take her? To France, perhaps?’

  ‘You will not be surprised if I do not answer.’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ said Colbourne, pulling from his desk a letter. ‘There are many things you don’t have to tell me for they are all in here.’

  Colbourne pushed it towards him, but he knew it to be Lutyens’ letter before it was in his hand. Under the influence of drugs he had told the surgeon of HMS Brilliant everything about himself and his past; the letter had been the surprise result. Addressed to the man’s father it was a plea that the Pastor of the Lutheran church should use his influence with royalty to get lifted the warrant for sedition that kept Adam Pearce out of Britain, a reprieve that would grant freedom to John Pearce as well. How in God’s name had he got that? Gherson’s name and face sprang into his mind again. Why had he ever gone to the bother of saving the bastard’s life?

  ‘I return to you your property, with a sincere apology for reading what was, quite obviously, private correspondence. Believe me, I did so from the best of motives.’

  ‘Would that be self-preservation?’ ‘You are angry, and you have the right to be, but it will not surprise you to know that I have the right to do what I have done and in reading it I have discerned your purpose. It may seem strange to you to hear me say that I am a happier man knowing who you are, in knowing that I was right about your dissimilarity to your fellows.’

  ‘So now all your problems are solved.’

  ‘They could be. I could have you in chains, then hand you over to the port authorities to do with what they wish. I hope it comes as no surprise to you that I would find such an action unpalatable.’ Colbourne grinned again and picked up the coffee pot. From above their heads both men could hear the sounds of a ship about to moor. It was a telling notion of how much Colbourne feared Pearce that he was not on deck to supervise it.

  ‘But that does not answer my dilemma. I cannot let you, a common seaman, off this ship, and I cannot keep you, an uncommon one, on board. I will not, in all conscience, hand you over to the authorities, because I, like the fellow who wrote your letter, do not believe a man should be condemned to prison for merely speaking his mind. I am reluctant to gift you to some other captain, for they would be bound to ask me why. Imagine if they were told, and took you, how they would react to your behaviour? I doubt you’d survive a month.’

  ‘There are laws against killing people, even sailors.’


  ‘And there are captains who know how to circumvent them. It is we who write up the story Pearce, and no Admiralty clerk is going to overly enquire about a name that says beside it in the log, “died in the execution of his duties”.’

  Pearce was wondering what price Gherson had extracted for his thieving, but he would not ask, because he knew that Colbourne would not tell him. ‘I’m grateful for the coffee, and for the return of my letter. I daresay you wish from me a promise that I will desist?’

  ‘I would like it, but somehow I doubt I would get it and it is the measure of the respect in which I hold you that I would be disappointed if you made it, for to return to where we started, it would be a lie.’

  ‘Then why all this?’ demanded Pearce, lifting Lutyens’ letter. ‘The coffee, the intimacy.’

  ‘Well, it is pleasant to have someone of equal wit to talk to.’ Colbourne saw Pearce’s colour rise as he became angry and he spoke quickly to subdue him. ‘You need to get ashore, do you not?’

  ‘More than that.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  Pearce waved the letter. ‘There’s not much that is not in here. My father is sick, he is in a country going from bad to worse. I need to get him out. The rest will have to be taken care of when that is accomplished.’

  ‘Then I have the solution.’

  ‘Which is?’

  That grin again. ‘I intend to rate you as a midshipman.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  It was amazing how, in those few simple words, the case was altered. All the things that would damn Pearce ashore, the gait of a man new from the sea, those ingrained hands black with tar, the way the weather had coloured his face, would become part of his defence against crimps, all for the addition of a simple blue, midshipman’s coat.

  ‘It is one of the quirks of the Navy,’ Colbourne added. ‘that I am allowed, within reason, as many midshipmen as I want and that it is I who appoint them. Of course it is not, in the true nature of things, a rank, it is merely a courtesy title for a youngster learning his profession, but it does mean that he is free to come and go from ship to shore much as he pleases, albeit that he would have to have his captain’s permission.’