Any Approaching Enemy: A Novel of the Napoleonic Wars (26 page)

“Acting Lieutenant Beechum,” Nelson intoned gravely, “you are standing on your quarterdeck facing the bow. The lookout shouts down that an enemy is approaching from starboard. Which side is that, sir?”

“From the right side, sir?”

“That is correct. Very good. And if the wind is blowing in over the railing to your left, which direction is to windward?”

“To the larboard, or port side, sir,” Beechum answered more firmly, but clearly mystified at the line of questioning.

With a wink to Charles, Nelson said, “I do profess myself impressed with this young man’s firm grasp of the fundamentals of seamanship. Mr. Beechum, I am pleased to approve your status as acting lieutenant to
Louisa
until such time as I can convene a proper board of examination to make it permanent.”

“I … I … thank you, sir,” Beechum managed, a puzzled look still on his face. Then he smiled.

“Always remember to do your duty to the best of your ability and to see that your deportment is a credit to your ship, your king, and the Royal Navy.”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”

Nelson shifted his gaze. “Captain Edgemont, I have already sent orders to
Pylades
to convey my reports on the location of the French, and my intention to engage, to Lord St. Vincent at Gibraltar. I have also ordered that Commander Bevan provide accommodation to the charming Mrs. Edgemont. I trust this is acceptable to you.”

“Yes, sir,” Charles said. It was the only thing he could say.

“As for
Louisa,
I have determined that suitable mast sections are available from
Leander
. They will be delivered to you at first light. The squadron will set sail for Alexandria at four bells in the forenoon watch. Your orders are to complete the repairs to your ship and resupply as expeditiously as possible. Then you will immediately take up our wake, sir. We are no flying squadron; I am confident you will catch us up well before we reach Egypt.”

Charles was not entirely displeased by this. He would part from Penny sooner than he liked, but then he would be a participant in the coming battle against the French. “Yes, sir,” he said again.

“So far, so good,” Nelson said reflectively. “Now we come to the troublesome problem of Lieutenant Talmage.” He glanced down at Charles’s report, which lay on the polished table before him, then he stared directly at Talmage with a frown. “I must say, sir, that I am deeply disappointed in your behavior. In his report, Captain Edgemont tends to be forgiving. Reading it, I find that I am not. There will be no transfer to another ship, Mr. Talmage, not while I am in command. Drawing your sword in the presence of a superior officer is a most serious breach of discipline, expressly prohibited by the king and by act of Parliament. What have you to say for yourself ?”

“Sir,” Talmage said immediately, casting a scowl at Charles, “I am the senior officer to Lieutenant Winchester, whom Captain Edgemont unfairly placed above me. This was a direct insult to my reputation and my honor, as Mr. Winchester well knew. No gentleman could allow such an affront to go unchallenged.”

Charles saw that Talmage was about to sink himself. “Admiral Nelson, sir,” he interjected.

“In a moment, Captain,” Nelson said. “I can well appreciate your objection to this line of defense.” Turning back to Talmage, he continued, “It does not answer that you are the longer-serving officer. I’ll grant that it’s unusual, but Captain Edgemont is well within his rights to appoint his lieutenants as he sees fit, particularly if his first’s abilities are found wanting, as he has clearly stated. However that may be, there is not a shred of doubt that Lieutenant Winchester was officially your superior on the date the altercation took place.”

“Sir,” Charles said again.

Nelson ignored him. “Mr. Talmage,” he said harshly, “I find that your deportment has been contrary to every tenet of good discipline in His Majesty’s Navy. I am ordering you placed under arrest for breach of the twenty-second article of the Articles of War, for drawing your sword against a superior officer. A court-martial will be assembled to determine your guilt and pronounce punishment immediately after we have dealt with the French force at Alexandria. Mr. Beechum, if you would be so good as to instruct the marine guard outside the door to enter.”

“Beechum, wait,” Charles said quickly. To Nelson, he pleaded, “Sir, may I speak?”

The admiral looked at him with raised eyebrows. “What is it?”

“Sir,” Charles said, trying to collect his thoughts, “I do not believe arresting Lieutenant Talmage to be warranted. The incident in question occurred several weeks ago, and there has been no repeat of it. Since he agreed to assume the position of second, his deportment has been more than satisfactory. I believe the rift between Talmage and Winchester to also have been healed, sir.”

“I do not—” Talmage began loudly.

“For Christ’s sake, shut up,” Charles snapped. He hurried on: “Admiral Nelson, sir, this is no rogue officer. The issue is that he felt himself unfairly treated by me, and he quarreled with my first as a result of that frustration. Since then we have come to an agreement, and the issue has been resolved.”

Nelson eyed Charles steadily. “But he quarreled, as you say, with a naked blade in his hand, did he not?”

Charles’s heart sank. This was the single unavoidable damning fact. “Yes, sir,” he said. “But its point rested mostly on the deck. I believe that the lesser charge of quarreling with a fellow officer under the twenty-first article to be more appropriate in this case.”

The admiral stared at him, either undecided or disbelieving; Charles couldn’t tell which. “Furthermore, I have the utmost confidence in Mr. Talmage’s conduct,” Charles added hopefully, “and I will personally vouch for his appearance at trial.”

Nelson hesitated. He cleared his throat, paused a moment longer, then said, “All right, if that is your wish, Captain. Mr. Talmage, are you agreeable to remaining on board
Louisa,
and do you give me your guarantee of future obedience to orders?”

“Yes, sir,” Talmage said, stone-faced.

“Then I will amend the charges against you to include violation of both the twenty-first and twenty-second articles,” Nelson said. “I will leave it to the court to determine which applies.”

The sky had turned moonless black when they emerged onto
Van
guard’s deck. In tense silence, Charles, Talmage, and Beechum climbed down the side steps to their boat waiting below.

“Mr. Talmage,” Charles said after they had settled themselves and the boat had shoved off.

“Sir,” Talmage answered.

Charles detected resentment in the lieutenant’s voice. “May I take it that you are agreeable to remaining on board
Louisa
?” he said.

“It seems that I have little option.”

“I am sorry. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this.”

“It is your doing that brought me to this pass,” Talmage choked. “I have been sorely treated, and now my career is in ruins.”

“Goddammit, man,” Charles growled, “it’s that kind of prickly arrogance that has brought you to where you are. You know that if you go before a court-martial, they will hang you, don’t you? No jury of navy captains is going to overlook the fact that you drew your sword. Make no mistake, Jacob, they will hang you by the neck until dead. Is that what you want?”

Charles could hear Talmage’s labored breathing in the darkness beside him. “No,” Talmage managed.

“Then I strongly suggest that we look for some way to repair your reputation before any court can be convened.”

Charles allowed Talmage and Beechum to mount
Louisa
’s side by themselves. To Williams, the coxswain, he said, “Take me across to
Pylades.

“You’ve orders for Gibraltar?” Charles asked Bevan as soon as he had climbed to the brig’s deck.

“Aye,” Bevan answered. “The moment we’ve replenished our water and such. I’m instructed to provide accommodation for Mrs. Edgemont. I’m sorry, Charlie.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Charles said. “When do you think you’ll up anchor?”

“Sooner rather than later,” Bevan answered vaguely. “What are you thinking?”

“Could you delay for a day or so? I was hoping you could help with our repairs.”

“I believe that can be arranged,” Bevan said.

AT TWO BELLS in the morning watch, Charles stood on his quarterdeck as a ship’s cutter, tied up alongside
Leander
the past half hour, spread its oars to begin the pull across the low gray chop of Syracuse harbor. He could see the line from the boat’s stern and the two long spars being towed through the water behind.

A swarm of activity showed itself on board the men-of-war of the British squadron as anchors were hove short, men swarming aloft to loosen the gaskets on the yardarms prior to dropping their sails, and a multitude of ship’s boats on last-minute errands plying back and forth between the heavy two-deckers like so many water bugs.

As
Leander
’s cutter neared, Charles observed the somewhat unusual sight of an officer—the lieutenant commanding the work party, he presumed—standing in the bow, sawing back and forth with his arm as if playing an imaginary fiddle.

“Boat ahoy, what is your business?” Charles heard Beechum, standing officer of the watch, call down.

“His Majesty’s lieutenant Jack Aubrey of
Leander,
youngster. I’ve two mast sticks for you. Permission to come aboard?”

“Come aboard, Mr. Aubrey,” Charles shouted. “It’s all right, Mr. Beechum, he’s expected.”

That the lieutenant was a man of robust proportions Charles could tell while he was still in the boat alongside. On deck he saw him to be tall, taller than Charles, with a ruddy, good-natured face and long blond hair tied in an old-fashioned queue behind.

“You would be Captain Edgemont, sir?” Aubrey asked.

“I am he,” Charles answered.

“I’m honored, sir,” the lieutenant said, extending a very large hand and a rather infectious smile. “We was at Cape St. Vincent together a year and more back.”

Charles shook the hand, which gripped his almost painfully. “What ship were you on?” he asked.

“Third on
Colossus,
I was. We lost some yards on the foremast straightaway.” Aubrey laughed, a hearty, uninhibited laugh that seemed to come up from his belly. “Almost the first whiff of gunsmoke, and we was out of the battle.” He took a moment to compose himself. “And you were second on little
Argonaut,
I recall. I winced when I saw her poor battered state. That must have been the devil’s own trial.”

“I wouldn’t want to repeat it,” Charles said.

“No, I imagine not. Still, it got you your step,” Aubrey said happily. Then he seemed to remember his business. “I’ve brought your spars for you. If you will just sign for them.” He removed a piece of ham and then produced a wrinkled paper and the stub of a pencil from a jacket pocket. Charles scratched his signature.

The lieutenant tipped his hat. “Good day to you, sir. The admiral has us off for Egypt. You’ve just been there, I hear tell. I don’t suppose you’ll be coming along?”

“We’ll catch up as soon as your sticks are in place,” Charles said with a small laugh. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you to fight them all by yourself.”

“How many do you reckon they are?” Aubrey asked, turning serious.

“Thirteen big ones, including L’Orient,” Charles answered. “Enough to make a fair fight.”

The lieutenant whistled his appreciation. “We’ve nothing approaching that size. Still, Nelson has never been known to be shy.” Then, with a nod and a smile, Jack Aubrey hoisted his bulk outboard and descended the side steps with surprising agility.

“Mr. Keswick,” Charles called for the boatswain. “Your mast sections are alongside. See to hoisting them aboard, if you please.”

As the morning progressed, Charles watched while Keswick, his mates, and a handful of the crew began disassembling the jury-rigged mast sections to send them down to the deck. The work went methodically. Charles was in no hurry to see it done quickly, had no urgency about sending the ship’s boats into the port for resupply, and felt no anxiety to set sail in pursuit of Nelson’s squadron. There would be plenty of time for that.
Louisa
could sail rings around the lumbering battleships in all but the heaviest weather. He knew that he would have to send his wife over to
Pylades
and away too soon. He would not see her again for … who knew how long, months, years even. In all likelihood, by the time he was able to return home, their child would have been born, perhaps even would be toddling around and speaking its first words.

Eight bells marked the beginning of the forenoon watch, and the arrival of a bleary-eyed Talmage onto the deck to replace Beechum. He nodded stiffly and touched his hat as he passed, but said nothing. He looked as if he hadn’t slept at all during the night. Possibly he had come to realize the full ramifications of his actions and spent the hours worrying about them. On returning from the flagship the evening before, Charles had described to Penny Nelson’s decisions and what they meant. She’d been clearly upset. “What canst thou do to prevent this?” she’d said. Charles had no answer. He’d racked his brain on the subject. Something would have to be done to improve Talmage’s standing if he was to receive any sympathy from a court-martial. It would help if it were something truly heroic and spectacular. But what? All Charles could think was that the coming battle with the French might offer an opportunity, but as the small
Louisa
would most likely be ordered to stand off while the line of battleships pounded away at one another, he had no inspiration.

In time, Charles watched as flags ran up Vanguard’s halyards, signaling for the squadron to prepare to make sail. At precisely four bells, the flags came down, the signal to execute. Charles watched as, one by one, the hulking warships dropped their sails and pulled their anchors. Braced up in the light airs, their heads swung as they wore around to stand for the harbor mouth and the open sea beyond. He ticked them off as they made way, adding clouds of canvas as they went—
Vanguard, Alexander,
Theseus, Orion, Defense, Bellerophon, Minotaur, Audacious, Goliath,
Swiftsure, Zealous, Majestic, Culloden, Leander, Mutine
—until the harbor seemed strangely bare. Thirteen seventy-four-gun ships of the line, a fifty, and a brig, tiny by comparison, on their way to meet a French fleet of similar numbers but greater force, off a distant harbor nearly a thousand miles to the east.