Battle Fleet (2007) (12 page)

I heard a voice behind me. ‘Well here he is at last. What a handsome creature! Show them in, Aldcroft,’ he said to the footman. ‘These tars can tell me all about him.’ It was Lord Montague himself, returning from an afternoon stroll. He had spotted that we were sailors before he had even set eyes on our faces.

We entered the grand hall and were told to sit with Sydney on a plush red sofa close to the foot of a great winding staircase. I undid his tether and had him perch on my arm. Lady Montague was summoned and came at once to admire their new pet.

Lord Montague was cordial, considering our different stations in life. ‘Had a letter from Governor King over the summer, telling me to expect a delivery. Were you in
charge of the bird during the voyage?

‘Capital, capital,’ he said, rubbing his hands together. ‘Tell me all about him. What does he eat? What does he like to do? Can he talk? I’ve heard these birds are marvellous conversationalists.’

I started to tell him, and the more I talked, the sadder I felt. I hadn’t realised how fond I had become of Sydney.

‘You have to be very careful with him, especially to begin with,’ I concluded. ‘He’s shy with strangers, but he’s affectionate with people who treat him well.’

As I talked, I stroked the top of Sydney’s head. Lord Montague leaned over to him and said, ‘So, I’ll bet you’re missing the sunshine in New South Wales?’

‘He doesn’t actually
make
conversation, sir,’ I said cheekily. I was feeling light-hearted and this was certainly one occasion when I could make fun of a toff and not face a flogging.

Montague’s manner changed in an instant. ‘I’m not an imbecile, lad.’ Then he softened. He sat next to me on the sofa and beckoned me to hand over the bird. Sydney hopped obligingly from my arm to his.

He put out a hand to stroke Sydney’s head. ‘Don’t peck him, please don’t peck him,’ I thought.

Emboldened, Montague leaned closer and cooed, ‘You are a pretty bird.’ At once the cockatoo nipped him on the nose and soiled his trousers. Montague yelled and
recoiled in disgust, frightening Sydney even more. He flew up the grand staircase and settled on the topmost banister.

It was time to leave. As we were shooed out of the door, I heard Montague say to his wife, ‘I wonder what that thing tastes like? Chicken, d’you think? Or maybe pheasant?’

‘Don’t you dare,’ was the last I heard of that conversation. I hoped Sydney didn’t start chirping out his old war cry ‘Show us yer arse’, at least not until the family had got to know him better.

We spent the rest of the day looking at notices in shop windows for lodgings and found a room in a boarding house close to Covent Garden and the Strand. It was small and expensive, being so close to the middle of things, but clean enough. ‘It’ll do for a couple of days,’ Richard said.

When we’d settled in we wrote our letters. I told my mother and father I had returned safely to England, where I was living, and that I would visit Norfolk soon, but I didn’t say when. I loved my family but our village of Wroxham offered the greatest reason for a boy to go to sea. Life there revolved with the same steady and predictable course as the sails of the windmills that stood around the town.

Rosie was close to there too, on the coast at
Yarmouth, Rosie, my childhood sweetheart, who I had told to forget about me when I was transported to New South Wales. Thinking of Rosie made me sad. Having been so attracted to Bel, I knew Rosie was no longer the girl for me. But I still wondered how our life would have worked out together. Me running a village store, and teaching in the local school, she raising our children.

I wrote to Robert Neville too and received a reply by return of post.

Hon. Robert Neville

12 Grosvenor Square

Mayfair

17th November, 1803

Dear Sam and Richard,

How fortunate that your letter should reach me while I am staying in London on leave. I am delighted to hear you are both safe and well. I cannot tell you how pleased I was to hear about your pardon. We must meet at the earliest opportunity. Will you both come for dinner tonight at the family home? My father and mother are both anxious to make your acquaintance.

Would five o’clock be acceptable?

Your true friend

Robert

The idea of meeting Robert’s family filled me with trepidation. They were very grand. And what would we wear? We had our sailor’s slops and they were looking threadbare after a trip across the world. ‘We need to go shopping,’ said Richard. ‘Fine clothes ahoy.’

A tailor would take a week to make new clothes. We would just have to go dressed as we were and hope the family would understand. Although we cleaned ourselves up and put on fresh clothes I still felt shabby as we set out for the Nevilles’ London home.

Robert greeted us with a gleeful hug. We had not seen him for over two years and he had grown taller and stouter. He seemed every inch the young gentleman. The boy I had first known on the
Miranda
had gone. ‘You both need some meat on your bones,’ he said to Richard and me. ‘Good thing we’ve quite a banquet before us.’

We were ushered into a hall even grander than Lord Montague’s. The Nevilles’ house was lit by myriad candles, their light twinkling in chandeliers, casting a warm glow over the plush furniture and rich oil paintings of country landscapes and horses. There were also portraits of several generations of the Neville family. I
assumed they were anyway; they all had the same look about them.

As I gazed around at this extraordinary splendour, I was introduced to Robert’s family. There were two younger brothers, Charles and Henry, one already a midshipman by the look of him, the other only nine or ten and dressed in a smart slate-grey jacket. Lady Neville was a vision of floating silk and lace. She offered us both her hand to kiss and whispered, ‘Thank you for saving my son’s life.’

Finally, there was Viscount Neville himself. He too was in grey silk with a bright red embroidered waistcoat. He was every bit as distinguished as the governors and admirals I had come across over the previous few years. He exuded power and authority and I could imagine him being a terrifying man to work under. But to us, he was charm and affability.

We dined on goose, served with several bottles of fine wine. ‘Shame we’ve fallen out with those Frenchies,’ said the Viscount. ‘My cellar’s running low on wine and I’d love to sail over there to replenish it.’

Such food, after months of leathery salt pork and dried peas, tasted unreal. We had enjoyed our pub meals since coming ashore but I had quite forgotten how mouth-wateringly delicious well-cooked food could be. The goose was rich and pungent, and I had to stop myself gobbling it down like a starving dog. I didn’t
want Robert’s family to think his friend was some sort of wild urchin.

Richard and I were made to tell the whole story of our near hanging, transportation, and time in New South Wales. We skipped the bit about felling a tree on Lewis Tuck’s cottage.

Some time towards the end of the evening, Viscount Neville fixed me with a stern eye and said, ‘And what of your future, Sam? Do you intend to return to the sea?’

‘I do, sir,’ I said confidently. ‘But not yet. I went to sea to find adventure, and I’ve had sufficient to last me a lifetime. For now, I’d like to spend a month or two on land. I want to enjoy some fresh food and days that aren’t marked out by the ship’s bell.’

‘And would you enlist in the Royal Navy or do you intend to sail a merchantman?’

This was a tricky question. I decided honesty was the best policy.

‘I started with the merchant fleet, sir, and I expect this offers me the best chance of advancement. I can only hope to sail before the mast in the Royal Navy. On a merchant ship I can pick and choose my Captain and companions, and the length of voyage. On a Navy ship I cannot.’

Viscount Neville nodded sagely. ‘You have a wise head on your shoulders, Sam. But you will do well in the Navy. I am prepared to help you become a midshipman,
if you would like that. I would be pleased to see you serving alongside Robert again.’

I was flabbergasted, and I replied with care. ‘Thank you, sir. It would be an honour to serve alongside Robert. But I need to think about this. For now, I hardly even know what I’ll be doing tomorrow morning.’

He nodded and turned to Richard. ‘That goes for you too, young fellow, although I would surmise that you intend to return to Massachusetts?’

Richard looked astonished and for a second I saw a gleam of mischief in his eye. His face seemed to be saying ‘You must be joking!’ For one horrible moment, I thought he was going to launch into a wine-fuelled rant about the Royal Navy being full of high-born snobs and being heartily sick of them and their stuck-up manner.

I kicked him under the table. The gleam faded. To my great relief he said instead, ‘I’m grateful for your offer, sir. But I’m set on returning to the United States.’

‘How extraordinary,’ I thought, ‘to have such an opportunity.’ Already I was beginning to doubt the wisdom of my response. I knew in my heart I’d be foolish not to take up Neville’s offer. A country boy like me could never afford the schooling, the uniform, nor the equipment necessary to become a midshipman. And even more crucially, people like me, or more to the point my father, did not have the influence to secure such an appointment. I hoped I had not destroyed my chance by
not seizing the opportunity as soon as it was offered.

It was after midnight when we prepared to leave. As we stood in the hall, Viscount Neville called Robert into a room to talk to him privately. Then they both came out to see us off.

‘My coach and four will take you home,’ said the Viscount. ‘You never know quite who you’ll meet out on the street, and you boys are rather close to the rookeries of St Giles and Holborn.’

Robert said, ‘You know, we have a small property to rent close to St James’s Park. You can stay for three shillings a month between you. Father suggested it just now. No sense running up a big bill where you are. You could move in as soon as you like.’

‘What good fortune!’ I said to Richard, as our coach trundled over cobbled streets back to Covent Garden. ‘We can stay here for longer on such a low rent!’

We were both flying! ‘Hurrah!’ we said and burst out laughing. ‘You know you’d be mad not to take up that offer of a midshipman’s post?’ Richard said.

‘I do know,’ I said. ‘But the thought of another endless posting, especially the North Sea in winter, and all that burgoo and scotch coffee, and maggoty meat, and sleeping in the stinking hold alongside hundreds of other seamen, the cat o’ nine tails, bullying bosun’s mates, cannon balls screeching over to take the limbs from my body … it’s all too horrible.’

Richard said, ‘But you’ll be an officer, you’ll receive better food, better quarters, and the bosun’s mates would be doing what you told them rather than hitting you with a rope! And if you pass your exams and become a lieutenant, what next? You could grow rich on prize money from captured warships
and
see the world.’

His face lit up. ‘On the other hand, you could always come to Boston. Plenty of opportunity there for a lad like you. Think about it, Sam. Even if you take up old man Neville’s offer to train as a midshipman, you’ll still have to go to sea in a man-o’-war and everything that goes with it. Come to Boston, and you’ll work as a junior officer on a merchant ship. You’ll be a captain one day. I hope to be. No chance of that in the British Navy.’

That was a tempting idea too. But I was not ready to leave England, or give up sailing English vessels. I did not like the idea of being a foreigner to my fellows on ship, and leaving England would feel like a betrayal, especially with us still at war with France.

Viscount Neville’s offer dangled in front of me like forbidden fruit. I had meant it when I said I was not ready to return to sea. The dark side of the Navy was still too fresh in my mind. But the money we had made on the
Orion
would be spent soon enough and I would have to make a living. I wondered what else I could do. London was a city of endless opportunities – I could
take a trade, become a craftsman, work on the docks, there were plenty of ways to make a living that didn’t involve going to sea. But I knew one day I would have to, because the sea was where I felt most alive.

We moved to our new lodgings in Marlborough Road the next day. It was only a few minutes from St James’s Park. It wasn’t long before I started to get a feel for London, and the place was every bit as exciting as I hoped it would be. Robert visited frequently to take us on trips to the British Museum or public science lectures at the Royal Institution.

But like the Navy, London had its dark side. Right outside our front door were beggar women with babies in their arms, and girls younger than us offering their bodies for money. There were pickpockets and
thieves too and Robert cautioned us never to leave a window open in the house, lest we be broken into. ‘The burglars work with young children. They slip them through an open window and the child opens the front door.’