The Emperor (19 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

Tags: #Aristocracy (Social Class) - England, #Historical Fiction, #Family, #General, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Sagas, #Great Britain, #Historical, #Great Britain - History - 1789-1820, #Fiction, #Domestic fiction, #Morland family (Fictitious characters)

BOOK: The Emperor
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Jack's face clouded. 'That's the one drawback, sir. Harry
and I have always done things together, and I hoped we
always would - at least until we were both made post. And
Harry is every bit as good a seaman as I am - better at
mathematics perhaps. But he hasn't got the service. Mama
did not have him put on the books, of course, and Bloody
Bill - the Cap'n, I mean, sir, I beg your pardon - is too
strait-laced to bend the rules, even for his own brother.
He - the Cap'n I mean - did it all by the book when he was
a mid, and he don't mean to help anyone else do it any
other way.'


That's a great pity for Harry,' Charles said. 'It will put
him two years or more behind you.'


Yes, sir. He won't have his six years until February '99,'
said Jack, frowning. 'The worst of it is, it caused bad feeling between us. We didn't exactly quarrel, but we parted coldly,
and I'd almost sooner not be made than have a falling-out
with Harry.'


Almost, but not quite,' Charles observed. Jack smiled
unwillingly.


That's the size of it, sir. Harry thought I ought to hold
back on his account, so that we could stay together, but -
well, sir, who knows what might happen? If I refused
Admiral Harvey's help now, he might not offer it again, or
he might be killed, or - or
anything!
I couldn't turn down
the chance of being made, not even for Harry. But I wish
with all my heart he had not taken it so hard.'


You did the right thing, I'm sure,' Charles comforted
him. 'Harry will come to see that, too, when he has got over
his disappointment. I dare say he's already wishing he had
parted with you more kindly.'


I hope you're right, sir,' said Jack. 'He's like a brother to
me.’

He had plenty to say about conditions in the navy, which interested everyone, but Charles in particular.


Discipline's fallen off badly, ever since the Quota Act,'
he told them over dinner. 'Of course, I know that with the
blockade war the press wasn't raising enough men, but the
quota-men are of the worst sort. The magistrates use the
Quota to get rid of poachers and vagrants and petty-thieves,
and even they, if they can find a man worse off than them
selves, can put in a substitute.'


You can hardly expect seamen from a conscription
policy,' Charles pointed out.


No, of course not – but these are the dregs of society,
good for nothing but to make trouble. The older jacks don't
like the service being filled up with gallows-fodder, sir –
they think it an insult. And then there's the bounty: quota-
men are getting bounties of seventy pounds a head, though
they're only landmen, and many of them are only volunteer
ing to avoid going to gaol; whereas seasoned seamen who
volunteered in '93 only got five pounds a head.'

‘That does seem hard.'


I'm afraid there may be trouble over it,' Jack said.
‘These quota-men may be worthless, but your true jack's a
good man, and he's not being treated fairly, in my view.
Conditions on the lower deck are bad enough – well, there
may not be much we can do about that, and they're tough
enough to stand it – but they don't like to be cheated of
their rations, which they often are, or their pay. Did you
know the last time the men's pay was raised was during the Commonwealth? That's a hundred and forty years ago!'


These are rather republican ideas you're espousing,
aren't they?' Charles said, and Jack blushed with vexation.


Good God, no, sir! It's just that I don't like to see gaol-
rats treated better than decent, honest seamen.'


Well, your ideas are very interesting, at all events,'
Charles said, 'and I shall see if we can't make the oppor
tunity for you to repeat them to one or two influential
people. Though perhaps,' he added with a smile, 'as you
have a letter from Admiral Harvey, you may be in the way
to meet more influential people than I can introduce you to.’

*

Admiral Harvey's letter of recommendation was not
ignored, and before the end of December Jack was given his
commission into the
Excellent,
74, commanded by Harvey's
old friend Cuthbert Collingwood. The first thing Jack did
was to write to Harry, a letter speaking such natural joy at
his good fortune and such frank and affectionate regret at
Harry's lack of it, that Charles, asked to read it over before
franking it, thought it must surely heal the breach.

Jack was naturally anxious to take up his commission at
the earliest possible moment, but when he received hisorders for the
Harrier,
a 16-gun brig which would be taking
dispatches to the fleet early in January, he felt secure
enough of his future to enjoy the Christmas season festivities
to the utmost. Town was unusually full, for a number of
people, like the Chelmsfords, had stayed up that year, so
there was plenty for him to enjoy. He was young, handsome,
and in great good spirits, and popular both with the
hostesses and with their unmarried female guests, which
caused Charles to remark to his wife that it was perhaps a
good thing that Jack was going back to sea so soon. On the day before Epiphany he packed his sea-chest, bid everyone
an affectionate goodbye, and strode off to catch the Ports
mouth mail, his eyes bright with anticipation of the glorious
career he had no doubt was ahead of him.

Chapter Seven
 

 
Lady Chelmsford was safely delivered on the fifteenth of
February of a son, who was given the name of Robert. It
was a terrible blow to Horatio, who felt that as Charles had
been so wantonly selfish as to marry again and breed, his
wife might at least have had the courtesy to produce a
daughter and die in childbirth. The couple however
seemed lost to all decency, and made a tasteless parade of
their happiness and pride when he called to inspect the infant. It was, without doubt, a boy, a pretty baby, and
apparently healthy. Horatio brought home nothing on which
to pin hope but a report of the child's smallness.


But you know, my dear, even healthy children can be carried off,' he reminded Lady Barbara, 'and it is but one
life between our little Marcus and what is rightfully his.’

Lady Barbara was not comforted. That would be well
enough, if we could be sure it would
remain
one life. But now they have begun, who is to say when they will leave
off? There will be a string of little ones before we can look
around, and then what shall we do? We can barely make
ends meet as it is, and as Marcus grows, the expense of
launching him in the world will be phenomenal, to say
nothing of Barbarina's dowry.'


It is an awkward business all around,' Horatio agreed with a sigh, and wondered what a gentleman of taste and
indolence could do to acquire large sums of money. In
former times, of course, a Court sinecure would have filled
the gap nicely between reality and expectation; but the King
lived as frugally as a German baker, and the Prince of Wales
was so far in debt that most of his servants had not been
paid for several years. Trade or business of any kind was of course out of the question; gambling was too uncertain, and
he had in any case no taste for it; and he had already
married as many rich heiresses as the law allowed.

 
Promotion to colonel would help a great deal — there
were a number of ways in which a colonel could make
money out of his company — but promotion within a
regiment which saw no active service was problematical.


If I transferred into another regiment,' he mused
hesitantly, and his wife raised her eyebrows in surprise. 'I
know it is an extreme remedy, but if I were in a regiment on
active service, there would be far more chance of pro
motion, and then, you know, if I acquitted myself so as to
win great glory, I might receive a peerage, not to say a
pension, and we might bite our thumbs at the Chelmsford
title.’

Lady Barbara had never in her life done anything so
vulgar as biting her thumb, but she thought there was something in the idea all the same. 'We might hold it in reserve,'
she said, 'in case the infant survives.’

While Lady Chelmsford was still confined to her bed, news
came in of a great naval battle which had been fought at
Cape St Vincent on the very day of little Robert's birth. The
French fleet had attempted invasion via Ireland's Bantry
Bay late in December, but contrary winds had prevented the
landing and driven the ships back to Brest. In January they had been ordered to join with the Spanish and Dutch fleets
to make a combined force powerful enough to hold the
Channel against the English while a French army was taken
across.

The English fleet under Admiral 'Johnny' Jervis,
numbering only fifteen of the line, intercepted the Spanish
fleet of twenty-seven on its way to the
rendezvous, at
Cape
St Vincent. The Spaniards were so spread out and straggling
that Jervis was able to order his ships to pass through the enemy line and engage the main section of eighteen ships
without interference from the rest.

The action was distinguished by the ingenuity of the
young captain Nelson of the
Captain,
74, who, ignoring
precedent, left his station to attack the Spanish flagship,
the monstrous 140-gun
Santisma Trinidad
He
was joined
by Captain Collingwood and the
Excellent,
and their action
slowed down the Spanish fleet and gave the rest of the
English ships time to rejoin the battle.

It was a notable victory for Jervis. Four Spanish ships
were captured, ten badly damaged, and the survivors forced
to flee to Cadiz, where Jervis was able to blockade them in,
preventing them from joining up with the Brest fleet and
thus ending the threat of invasion. All of London was
talking about it, and it was soon known that Jervis was to receive an earldom and Nelson a knighthood; and Horatio
thought gloomily that he ought to have joined the navy
instead of the army.

He was reading the full account of the battle in the
newspaper at his club, The Cocoa-Tree, when his eye was
caught by a familiar name in the column at the far right. He
read, and his face grew grave. He thought for a long time,
and then came to a decision, folded up the paper, called for
his hat, and set out to walk the short distance to Chelmsford
House.

Charles received him in his business-room, and noticed that Horatio's manner was unusually subdued and hesitant.
‘To what do I owe this pleasure?' he asked cheerfully. 'I did not know you were in the habit of paying morning calls, my
dear brother.'


I wondered if you had seen the paper,' Horatio replied.
‘The full report of the naval battle is here —'

‘Ah yes, our notable victory,' Charles smiled. 'Roberta is
determined that when we christen our son and heir, we
should give him the second name of St Vincent. What do
you think of that, Horace? It has a fine, patriotic ring, has it
not?’

It was obvious to Horatio from this that Charles had not
read the full report. He offered him the folded paper, and
indicated the last paragraph in silence. It was the customary
list of officers and men killed and wounded, listed by ship.
Under the name
Excellent
was written:


Lieutenant J. Morland, Midshipman P. Perkins, and
Able Seaman J. Oliver killed. No
.
officers and ten seamen
wounded, none seriously.'


I'm so sorry,' Horatio said at length, 'I know how highly
you thought of him.’

 
Charles could only nod, seeing in his mind's eye the
cheerful boy who had set off so hopefully only six week ago.

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