HMS Aurora: A Charles Mullins Novel (Sea Command Book 3) (17 page)

Handing the keys to the warrior, he indicated the first lock to be opened, then placed his lantern on the deck and made his way up the ladder. He was across the deck and lowering himself into the boat, when the first shouts of triumph came from the bowels of the brig.

Aurora had been moved away from the brig, and it took a few minutes to pull the gig over to her. By that time, Africans were boiling out of the hatches of the brig. When the warrior emerged on deck and discretely raised his hand to Mullins, the captain ordered his gig’s boat crew to tow a boat back to the brig. Leaving her a few yards from the brig, some of the freed Africans leapt into the water and swam to the boat.

As Aurora made her way out of the harbor, the boat she had left had already finished ferrying its load of Africans to shore and was returning for another load. On Aurora’s quarterdeck, Doris, freed from her imprisonment below, was asking what would become of the stranded Africans.

“Dear, these are not ignorant savages. They have their own laws, rules and customs. They have a few weapons from the brig, and some of them are no doubt capable of working iron. They will be able to fabricate more tools and weapons from the fittings aboard the brig.”

“If they wish, some of them will, no doubt, attempt to reach the mainland and find their way to their own country. Probably most will try to settle locally.”

Doris wondered if there was not some way to assist the freed Africans to find their way to their homes.

Mullins pointed to the brig, which the freed blacks were evacuating as rapidly as possible. Some of them had found cutlasses and pikes and were waving them threateningly at Aurora. More were loading into the single boat which had returned from its first trip to shore. None of them showed any sign of friendship to their rescuers.

Mullins replied, “The brig is the only means of transportation we have, and where would we take them? Those people likely come from a half dozen or more different tribes, located who-knows-where. I am sure there would be a bloody fight if any of us approached them and offered to put them back on the brig. All we can do is leave them to their own devices and wish them luck.”

Back aboard his ship, Mullins ordered the ship to make its way out of the harbor and continue the voyage to England.

On the voyage home, Mullins elected to remain well off-shore from the African coast, wishing to have no more dealings with pirates or the endemic diseases found there. There was a problem with finding a slant of wind to take them home, but the ship had plenty of water and provisions this early in the voyage, so there was no hurry.

Young Alfred Mullins, had recently discovered he could maneuver quite well on all fours, and was doing his best to investigate his surroundings. His mother and Mrs. Cooper had all they could do to keep the baby restrained so he did not go exploring right over the side of the ship.

Mullins assigned two hands, one ruptured, the other recovering from a bad wound, to assist the women in watching over young Alfred. As the ship approached the Line, the winds, fitful at best recently, became ever more difficult to find. The ship was becalmed for days at a time under the broiling equatorial sun.

Now, the women thought it dangerous to allow the baby to spend more than a few minutes on deck under the sun, and the child became ever more fretful in the baking atmosphere of the cabin. Eventually, the ship made her way north and west out into the Atlantic where she found the westerly trade winds. Touching at the Cape Verde Islands, Aurora took on water and fresh provisions and, from the master of a British trading brig, got the latest news of the present situation in Europe.

At peace now, for the first time in a decade, all was not going well. Neither France nor Great Britain was satisfied with the situation and relations had become strained between the two powers. Pitt had indeed resigned his position as prime minister and Adddington had succeeded. Although the two politicians had formerly been politically aligned, increasing difficulties between the two men caused them to drift apart and Pitt joined the opposition.

The news Mullins received from the master of the merchant, speculated war might be breaking out again soon.

Deciding he must expedite his return to England, Mullins overrode the protests of both Doris and Mrs. Cooper, who both wished for a respite from this prolonged voyage. Doris put it to Mullins that he should break their voyage so they could have a vacation from the sea. Doris had somehow decided that Charles, as captain of the ship, could come and go as he wished. Mullin’s attempted explanations to the women concerning his responsibilities in the Royal Navy fell upon deaf ears. Matters became cool in the cabin, and Mullins began accepting invitations to meals in the wardroom, without the presence of the ladies.

Matters came to a head one morning when Mrs. Cooper asked the bosun to provide them with a boat so the women could do some shopping on shore. They had become used to coming and going as they saw fit, and they assumed they could continue to do so.

Referred to Mister Hardinger, the ladies learned the captain had ordered the ship to leave harbor as soon as the wind served. With the wind now veering, now was the appropriate time and they would leave as soon as the anchor was won.

This resulted in a vehement conversation on the quarterdeck, where Mullins was occupied in ensuring the Aurora’s readiness for sea. The captain tried to defuse the matter by asking Doris to come into the cabin with him where they could discuss the problem in some privacy.

This did not go well. Mullins tried to explain the necessity for the ship to return home in light of the new political situation, but Doris countered by insisting it was time for him to stop playing at being a ship’s captain and resign his commission. After all, he had enough money to last them the rest of their days and Mister Hardinger could surely take Aurora back home. Certainly, Captain Mullins was not indispensable to the defense of the realm!

The volume of their discussion had raised to the level where it was audible all over the ship, and long-married hands were nodding their head. This was going about the way many of them expected.

The hands were at the capstan, ready to pull up the anchor, so in a pause while Doris caught her breath, the captain gave the order and the capstan began to turn. Mullins was thankful when no problems were encountered, and soon the bow was over the anchor. When Master’s Mate Harris raised his arm and shouted, ‘Up and down’, Hardinger ordered ‘Make sail’, and the topsails were shaken out. The anchor was pulled handily from its grip on the bottom and they were on their way.

The initial portion of the voyage home was a trial. Mrs. Cooper, originally attempting to remain distant from the conflict, now began to align herself more forcefully with Doris. By mutual consent, Mrs. Cooper moved into the main cabin with Doris, while Mullins took over the office with its smaller bed.

Unable to face the wrath of two women, often accompanied with the cries of the disturbed child, Mullins was relieved when Aurora began overhauling three Indiamen coming home from the Orient. With the political situation as it was, Mullins thought it his duty to offer his services as escort, just in case the French might come back into the war before they could make port.

Invited to come aboard the senior Indiaman, Mullins was pulled over in his gig, and spent the afternoon being entertained by the returning John Company officers. Upon returning to his own ship, he went to his office and called for the midshipman of the watch.

Asking Mister Whitbread to invite his wife and Mrs. Cooper into his domain, he waited. Both women were in his old cabin, separated from him by only a thin, deal partition. Every work spoken in the respective compartments was perfectly audible to someone in the adjoining compartment, so he was able to hear Doris question the midshipman concerning the reason they were being summoned.

He also heard the conversation between Doris and Mrs. Cooper as to whether they should comply with the request. Finally Mrs. Cooper, who was belatedly becoming concerned over her precarious position in the family dispute, voted to comply.

Doris entered the door, her face frozen, carrying the child as a bulwark against her evil husband. Mrs. Cooper, now wondering why she had become embroiled in this chaos, followed her.

Mullins began, “Doris, Mrs. Cooper, the situation on this ship is becoming intolerable with the animosity you have been displaying toward me. Of course, you have the right to your own feelings, but this tension is affecting the entire crew of the ship. Accordingly, I spent the afternoon aboard one of the Indiamen you see off our starboard quarter. I have purchased passage for you both as well as Alfred back to Portsmouth. Provisions will be furnished and I will give you a purse to purchase coach fare back to London.

Doris, since you are legally my wife, I will continue providing funds for your upkeep as well as for Alfred’s. In view of the tension between us though, I do not intend to return to the London house. In this purse, which I am giving you to defray any expenses you might meet, I have enclosed a note giving the name of my London club, where you may send any necessary messages. If, when you return home, you will send me a note, designating a day when you will not be home, I will drop by and remove any of my personal belongings.

Both women were silent for a moment.  Then Mrs. Cooper interjected, “Master Charles, you cannot leave your wife like this. It would be inhuman. Doris deserves better than this. And, what about your son?”

“Mrs. Cooper, while I am grateful for your service to me all of my life, you have demonstrated to me that you no longer regard me as a friend and employer. As for Doris, she has forcefully expressed her animosity to me for weeks, in sight and hearing of the entire crew. As far as Alfred is concerned, I regard him as my son, and will take him with me if you no longer want him,”

Working parties began pulling out the women’s belongings from where they had been struck below. The launch was put in the water, and the kit lowered down. Since Mullins had delivered his ultimatum, he declined to speak to either of the women.

As the launch was filled with the women’s belongings, Mullins saw Mister Adolphus in earnest conversation with Doris. Soon, the embarrassed midshipman reported to the quarterdeck, gingerly bearing a folded note.

“Sir, Mrs. Mullins has requested I deliver this note to you. She says she is most heartily sorry for the trouble she has caused and asks that she may remain on the ship.”

“Mister Adolphus, I wish no further communications from my wife delivered to me. I see the launch is ready. You will assist the women to load into it and take them to the Indiaman “Lord Sandwich’. Passage has already been arranged. You will expedite the unloading of their kit and return here as soon as possible.

There were no incidents on the way home, except for the frequent summons by Captain Jones of Sandwich, who persisted in asking Mullins over for a meal. Suspected his wife was the cause of the invitations, Mullins sent his regrets. A week out of port however, the wind died during the afternoon and a boat from the other Company ship came over, bearing an invitation from its captain.

Thinking an afternoon with some different company might be just what he needed to cure him of his blue devils, Captain Mullins decided to accept the invitation. In his best coat and scraper, his boat crew pulled him over. He was greeted with Royal Navy quality courtesy, by Captain Revere of the East India Company ship, Calcutta. As he stood on the Indiaman’s quarterdeck, conversing with the officers, he noticed a boat pulling over from Sandwich. Beside Captain Jones in the sternsheets, sat Doris, dressed in one of her more impressive gowns, a heavy shawl protecting her from the sun. Mrs. Cooper sat with her.

Turning to express his dismay, he found the captain had already gone to inspect the great cabin. The first lieutenant was no help at all, answering Mullins request to be seated as far from his wife as possible with the statement that all the arrangements were complete and could not be changed. Deciding that he was not going to be a party to this, Mullins went to the side, where he had last seen his boat. There it was, halfway back to Aurora. Repeated hails failed to get the attention of his cox’n.

Mullins approached the officer of the deck, requesting they signal Aurora to send another boat. Lieutenant Harkins was desolated but he had orders that all guests were to be provided transportation by Calcuttas’ boats. Only the captain could amend those orders and he was currently occupied with arranging the cabin.

Resigned to a tedious afternoon, Mullins followed Harkins to the entry port and greeted Captain Jones. He greeted his wife with somewhat less enthusiasm as she was hoisted aboard in a bosun’s chair. Disregarding his lack of interest in the gown the other passengers were admiring, she took his arm and proceeded to babble on about the social activities aboard Sandwich and how she wished she could have him at her side at some of them.

Mullins knew well that Doris was trying her best to make amends, but he was reluctant. He had listened to the sharp side of her tongue too much and wished to hear no more. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Mrs. Cooper hanging back in the crowd.

Young Alfred was not visible and he knew very well the now ambulatory little boy was apt to get into trouble.

Changing the subject from ship-board entertainments, he asked where Alfred might be. Doris answered, “Oh, I have engaged one of the ship’s employees to watch over our baby. Amala is a native woman from Bombay and is the most marvelous nurse to our baby. I do not know what I will do when we reach port. Alfred has grown to love her in the few days they have known each other.

The dinner in the great cabin was not quite the dreary occasion Mullins had anticipated. He was seated next to a colonel of foot, taking his retirement and returning to England. Colonel Edwards had a plethora of tales about his career on the sub-continent and was well able to carry on both sides of a conversation at once. Mrs. Hobson, on his other side, was the wife of a staff major of the Indian Army who was returning home by herself to watch over the estate, while her husband remained in India to drink himself into his grave. Both managed to relieve him of any responsibility to carry on any part of a conversation.

The toasts had begun, and Mullins was determined to limit his intake of the excellent wines. Already with the greater part of a bottle in his belly, he was concerned how he could avoid insulting his host, when a servant approached Captain Revere and whispered into his ear.

Revere rose and excused himself, assuring his company there was a minor problem which he must see to. Moments after his leaving, the servant returned going first to Captain Jones then himself. Finding he was being summoned to the quarterdeck, he followed the servant, while Jones finished a tale involving a troubled passage in the westerlies south of the Cape.

Mullins found the ship’s master peering at something off their port quarter with his glass. When Jones joined them, the glass was handed to him without a word being said. After Jones had looked his fill, he handed the glass to Mullins. It was with some difficulty he found the difficulty that so interested the other captains. He saw two tiny notches in the horizon, which he recognized to be the tops of ships in the distance.

Revere explained. “My officer of the watch sent one of the apprentices aloft with a glass, before calling me. After taking the glass to the crosstrees, he reports he believes these are two ship-rigged warships, most probably of either corvette or small frigate class. They are too distant to further identify, but we might consider them French national ships.