The Perils of Command (27 page)

‘I never doubted you would smoke it, Mr Toomey.’

‘I insist you stick to whatever bargain it is you seek. Threaten him directly, mention a word regarding his position and it will act against your purpose. He will not allow himself to be trifled with.’

‘I agree.’

‘Then I ask that you return to the wardroom and wait. I will send for you again when he is ready to receive you.’

‘It must have been an interesting interview you had with him.’

The reply was snapped, evidence of deep irritation. ‘“Interesting” is not a word I would use, sir! Now may I have the letter?’

‘When the bargain is fixed, Mr Toomey, and that means in stone.’

‘You would dare to doubt Sir William’s word?’

‘I would be a fool to accept it. Now please inform the admiral that my patience is not inexhaustible.’

The summons came within the ringing of the watch bells
and when he entered Toomey followed him, no doubt to ensure Pearce kept his word. Hotham had his back to the door, staring out of the casements, and it was clear he was intent on avoiding any sort of eye contact.

‘Well?’

‘I believe Mr Toomey has availed you of certain facts?’ No reply but a nod from the clerk. ‘In order to complete the business, I require a ship and an offer for Admiral Pierre Martin.’

‘What kind of offer?’ Hotham demanded, in a tone of voice that indicated he was surprised.

‘In the recent actions we have taken a number of French officers from those vessels we have captured or sunk.’

Pearce stopped then, feeling a slight wave of embarrassment wash over him. His intention had been to propose an exchange, the French officers for those captured on HMS
Semele
, the former being much more numerous. Captivity for a naval officer was worse than just incarceration: separated from promotions their career would possibly never recover.

That Ralph Barclay would be one of those who would benefit had to be accepted, for with him in the exchange would come Emily and a chance for him to seek to persuade her to once more break with her husband. It was a mad thing to be about but the whole matter was going nowhere as long as she was held in Toulon.

‘I sense you wish to propose an exchange, which is not unknown.’

The feeling of shame, for Pearce, had to do with the nature of those he wished to get free. But for every officer taken by the British there were a hundred lower deckhands and added to those were the many wounded in what had been fierce
fighting. Could he, with his background and beliefs, forget about them?

‘You are also holding on a transport vessel several hundred common French seamen.’

Hotham had replied at first as though he sensed a bargain easy to accept. Those words altered that and it also had him spin round to face Pearce. ‘You are not seriously suggesting I exchange them too?’

‘In doing so you will recover the crew of HMS
Semele
, which is no small matter given the fleet is short on hands. The prisoners you have to feed, which is a strain on the resources of your command and getting rid of them makes sense unless you intend to ship them back to England.’

‘Martin gets the best of it.’

‘Does he? I believe we have been told by the prisoners that Toulon was in a state of ferment before Admiral Martin departed, due to a shortage of food and poor conditions. Has that changed and will a whole load more mouths to feed be welcome? Perhaps by sending back the men taken in both actions we will be inducing a bacillus that will foment mutiny and thus destroy the French Fleet as a fighting force.’

Hotham’s head dropped in a way that indicated he was considering the idea, which in many respects made sense. It was a strain on the provisioning of the fleet, as well as the personnel employed, guarding and feeding so many French prisoners and no one could chastise him for acting to alleviate such a burden. Then there was the fact that Pearce was banking on. Unrest in Toulon might save him, given the chances of another fight with the French was unlikely, Martin having retired there.

‘No one can be sure of that,’ Toomey insisted.

‘No. But that is my bargain. The letter and the exchange. Meet it or turn it down.’

‘I am made curious as to why you are proposing this.’

‘And for me, Mr Toomey, you can remain so.’

Would they guess that Emily Barclay was the prize Pearce sought? They had no idea she had been on
Semele
but it was not too much of a leap to make the connection. If anyone would get there it would be the clever Irish clerk, who was now looking at Pearce in a questioning way.

Hotham turned back to look out of the casements. ‘Please allow me to consider it.’

Toulon was a place made known to the eye long before arrival, surrounded as it was by high hills close to being mountainous. In addition it was a locale Pearce knew well, for he had been sent to the port first by Lord Hood as an emissary to find out if the rumours of a Royalist coup were correct and he had been there during the siege. When he thought on that he was given to recollect how many times Sam Hood had misused him, even if the thought now made him smile.

The transport vessel
Marchmont
was packed with French prisoners, many bearing wounds, common seamen who had been held in conditions far from ideal in a Mediterranean summer, confined below decks all through the day and only allowed to take the air in batches once the sun had gone down. The officers were packed into a makeshift wardroom and scarcely better accommodated, though they had fared better, being allowed occasionally to go ashore to the town of San Fiorenzo.

At this moment the passengers had no idea where they
were headed, and for two very good reasons. First, Admiral Martin had to accept the offer of an exchange and there was no guarantee he would do so, in which case
Marchmont
was to make for home. Second, the men below decks were bound to be a disgruntled lot, poorly fed, obliged to drink Corsican well water, and according to what their captors had been told, mutinous by nature.

‘Do you think they will respect the flag?’ asked Loach, captain of the transport.

‘If they don’t it will be the last you will see of me.’

‘You can joke about that, Mr Pearce?’

‘Gallows humour, sir, which is all that will serve in such circumstances. I have no reason to think they will fire upon me but you never know.’

Loach looked up at the flag of his nation on his masthead as well as that on the two frigates escorting them, HMS
Brilliant
and Captain Fremantle in
Inconstant
. The former vessel had been an object of some curiosity in the two-day journey. The elusive Toby Burns was aboard her but so too was Taberly, which precluded a visit just to scare the wits out of Emily’s spineless nephew.

‘Two frigates coming out, sir,’ called a lookout.

‘Best signal
Inconstant
to heave to as we do,’ Pearce said. ‘We don’t want an accidental fight.’

Loach was very much under the Pearce’s orders, a fact made plain by the C-in-C himself and he was nervous. He had been told the nature of the voyage and he knew if it went badly wrong he would be as much a prisoner as the men he had been tasked to look after for many a week. So close to France and required to stick their necks into the lions’ den, the chances of keeping his freedom were remote. When he
wished John Pearce success it was heartfelt and genuine.

The cutter was in the water waiting for him to board, with his Pelicans as the crew, these extracted from Digby by another order from Hotham who, having accepted the proposal, had taken to it with enthusiasm, no doubt hoping that with these men landed, Toulon would become unstable enough to revolt and give him a much needed boost.

‘Haul away, lads,’ Pearce commanded.

The oars dipped to take him from the side. The portholes of the transport had been sealed but there had to be enough gaps for a pressed eye to pick out some of the surrounding features of high hills and deep-green forest. Certainly the officers would be clamouring to be given a view, but that was for Loach to deal with. He stood with his hand on the staff holding the white truce flag to send a message that he came to parley. Looking back he could see the two frigates had taken up station as required alongside
Marchmont
.

The ability to speak French had been the cause of much of the activities in which Pearce had been involved and now it was a more priceless asset than ever. Within hailing distance of the first French frigate he called to relate the nature of his mission, really no more than a request to be taken to meet Admiral Martin.

The captain who responded insisted he delay and that held until he had two boats full of musket-bearing marines in the water. They took up station on either side of the cutter, this while the French warship raised sail to get, with its consort, closer to the trio of British vessels. They also had truce flags at their mastheads, but to ensure caution the frigates had opened their gun ports and run out their cannon.

‘If our Frenchmen are going to ignore our white flag, Michael, now is the time they will do it.’

‘And where, I must ask, will that leave us?’

‘Possibly in a dungeon.’

‘Sure, you do have a love of the steep tub,’ was the very softly spoken response.

‘Just row slowly, friend.’

It was a long haul; the outer roads of Toulon consisted of a deep and wide bay so to make the actual harbour entrance required they travel a fair distance. On both sides of the arched mole, once they made it, crowds had gathered to watch this apparition, some merely curious, others gesturing rudely.

‘I’d be minded to give some of that back,’ Charlie Taverner called.

‘And me,’ said Rufus.

‘What for? You don’t understand it.’

‘Yes we do,’ Charlie insisted. ‘Some things don’t need words.’

‘A few less words from you sometimes might serve, Charlie, such as those you used to fire up all those seamen in Leghorn, where my name is now mud.’

‘I explained that, did I not?’ he protested. ‘How was I to know it would get out of hand?’

‘Let’s worry about this place, John-boy,’ Michael hissed, ‘and not what’s in the past.’

‘Which was you so drunk you had no idea what I was talking about when I queried you.’

Michael grinned. ‘Innocent as a lamb, then.’

‘A wolf in sheep’s clothing, maybe.’

In the harbour Pearce took the tiller to steer the boat
towards the building that housed the French naval HQ, now lined with officers and knots of curious bystanders. This time Pearce raised his hat in greeting and again stood to touch and stretch out the white flag, calling out that he brought a message from Admiral Sir William Hotham to be given to Admiral Martin and that sent a young lieutenant scurrying off.

Alongside he asked permission to alight and that was granted, but as he got onto dry land the group before him stood back to form a silent semicircle until finally one officer stepped forward and introduced himself as
Capitaine
de
Vaisseau
Louis-Jean-Nicolas LeJollie.

‘Lieutenant John Pearce, monsieur,’ Pearce replied in French.

‘Am I allowed to enquire as to your reason for being here in Toulon?’

‘That is for Admiral Martin to disseminate once he has been informed.’

As he said that, Pearce lifted his head to look at the building that housed the French command. In doing so he saw, at a long floor-to-ceiling window, the figure and anxious face of Emily Barclay, which caused his heart to miss a beat. LeJollie turned to follow his gaze and then remarked.

‘The poor woman.’

‘Why poor, monsieur?’

‘You would not know, of course. Her husband, the captain of your
Semele
, was killed in the action in which I took her.’

‘Killed?’

‘I am told one of our bar shot came in low and took off his head, which I fear ended up in the sea.’

Pearce could not respond for a moment. That news
changed so much it was hard to encompass it all. ‘Barclay,’ he croaked.

‘That is the lady’s name, monsieur.’ LeJollie produced a wry smile. ‘While one has pity for her loss, one must also say that young as she is, as well as beautiful, I do not think she will stay long a widow. And she does have his child on the way, by which she can remember her husband.’

Pierre Martin must have wondered if Pearce was witless, so slow was he to respond to the admiral’s questions when he was finally led into his presence. How could he begin to explain how tumultuous his thoughts were as he stumbled through the message Hotham had composed, full of high-flown sentiments regarding the sufferings that would be inflicted on Martin’s fellow countrymen by either extended incarceration on a ship or a long voyage back to captivity in Britain, especially those bearing battle wounds?

‘In exchange, we ask for the return of the officers and crew of HMS
Semele
and, of course, the captain’s wife.’

Martin had a big round face and that broke into a smile. ‘I do not think my officers will welcome the last part of your request. Madame Barclay has made a deep impression on many of them.’

‘In what way?’ Pearce bridled, jealously.

‘Monsieur, if you know of her you will also know she is a rare flower. Added to that she has been most concerned for the well-being of the men you seek to free.’

Martin ceased to smile and frowned. ‘You do realise, monsieur, that if I do not agree, I cannot permit you, having brought the men I have lost so close to their homeland, to sail them away again without I seek a rescue.’

‘Admiral Hotham accepted that risk on the grounds that
he sees you as an honourable man. He also knows that the honour of the French navy is as it was under a different system of government. But I must also add that our escorts have orders to fight if they must and the vessel carrying the prisoners would thus be in peril of wayward shot.’

Martin could make of that what he would; was it a threat or just a genuine assessment? He sat back in his chair, hand on chin, eyes locked onto Pearce as if trying to see if what he had relayed from Hotham was the truth or mere hyperbole. His visitor leant forward, pulling from his pocket a list of the prisoners he had carried to Toulon, of necessity a long one formed of dozens of sheets of paper.

‘The one detailing the captured officers is on top, the common seamen wounded is the last.’

Martin picked up the first; the rest would be mere numbers but the names of his officers would be known to him. The perusal induced a sigh. ‘Since you say you have brought the wounded I assume those I do not see to be dead?’

‘Sadly, yes. They were buried with full honours on Corsica according to the Catholic rite.’

Pearce had been aware of a fellow standing by the double doors throughout, who reminded him in his manner, if not his appearance, of Toomey. He was so very much a clerk.

Martin gestured to him. ‘Please take the lieutenant and provide for him some refreshments.’

‘My boat crew?’

‘They, too, will be looked after. I will look over this proposal and I assure you that Admiral Hotham is correct. I would not sully the name of my service by acting in an inappropriate manner that risks useless loss of life.’

‘Would it be possible to see Captain Barclay’s widow?’
Pearce felt like a complete scrub as he added, ‘I knew her husband well and would wish to offer my condolences for her loss.’

‘How can I deny such a request?’

Emily did not fly into his arms when he entered her apartment; instead she stood biting her lower lip, with a glance at the man who had shown him in.

‘Monsieur, I wonder if Mrs Barclay and I could be left alone?’

A dry stick of a fellow, very much an indoor man, Martin’s factotum was yet a Frenchman. The request got a lifted and telling eyebrow, before he bowed and departed, his knowing smile hidden because he had his back to the couple. She was in Pearce’s arms the minute the door was closed.

‘Why, in the name of all that is holy, are you crying, Emily?’

‘I’m so happy, yet I feel ashamed, too, that I rejoice in being a widow.’

‘Given we are going to have a great deal of time together, it is my fond hope that one day I will understand.’

Pearce did not seek to linger, staying enough time to exchange kisses and embraces and to put his hand on her belly, seeking for a kick from their child. He feared to remain longer than was appropriate, not wishing to complicate his mission, which might impact on her. He had no idea if Martin was going to agree to the exchange, which would mean him pleading for Emily’s release on the grounds of her widowhood and condition. That could not be seen to have a personal motive.

He checked that his Pelicans had been taken care of, happy to see them tucking into a fish soup that they complained
reeked of garlic before he was taken to what had to be the officers’ mess and fed, joined there by LeJollie who gave him an account of the action against
Semele
. It seemed politic to keep hidden that he had been close by in a pinnace. Eventually Martin’s factotum appeared and led him back to the man himself.

‘Monsieur, I have to tell you that your ship’s officers were sent to an inland fortress. I will request their return but that may take some time. I require that you take my word that once they are back in Toulon they will be passed on to one of the frigates patrolling off the port under a flag of truce.’

‘The men?’

‘You will disembark my sailors then embark your own, if you agree.’

‘I am bound to ask about the captain’s wife?’

‘Let me just say I will miss the occasional sight of her.’ He laughed then. ‘But I sense some will weep.’

‘We must be circumspect, John’

These were almost the first words Emily said to him when she and the small amount of luggage she had were brought aboard the now empty
Marchmont
. With that, having enquired as to where she would be accommodated until they rejoined the fleet – Loach gave up his cabin – she made her way there.

The crew of
Semele
were paraded on to the quay, Pearce ticking their names off a muster roll, a copy of the copy kept aboard the flagship for the purposes of pay. Just as Admiral Martin had seen the gaps in the list he had been given, Pearce had to mark them on his, Ralph Barclay’s name first, mentally totalling the high price
Semele
had paid in that fight. Martin
had provided a list of officers who would be freed later.

The warrants and the purser were afforded the temporary wardroom, which they pronounced a disgrace, as did the arriving crew, and both groups began to immediately clean the ship with vinegar, cursing as they did the filthy habits of the French.

Charlie and Rufus had served on Barclay’s 74, before and during the Glorious First, not happily, but they knew faces and names and were busy reacquainting themselves with old shipmates. That evaporated as Devenow appeared because one of the last acts they had committed was to belt the bully round the ear with a marlin spike.