Until the Sea Shall Give Up Her Dead (15 page)

Smosh stood before the opened gallery windows with the starlit waters beyond. He glanced once at Hayden, who gave a small nod, and the parson began.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God . . .”

The words, which Hayden knew almost by heart from his attendance at weddings, flowed over him like an incoming tide and bore him onward. He glanced at his bride, standing not two feet distant, almost a-tremble with suppressed excitement, and he felt a peace descend upon his heart and his mind, as though all doubt and conflict and worry had been washed away by the words of the chaplain, and he stood there, made anew.

“Therefore, if any man can shew any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.”

Smosh waited a respectful moment and, when no one spoke up, continued.

“I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgement when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not lawfully be joined together in Matrimony, ye now confess it.”

There was, Hayden thought, the matter of her age, and perhaps her religion . . . But neither of them “confessed,” and Smosh went quickly on.

“Captain Charles Saunders Hayden, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt though love her, comfort her, honour and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as thou both shall live?”

“I will,” Hayden answered clearly, his words echoing strangely along the open gun-deck.

Smosh turned to Hayden's betrothed. “Doña Angelita Campillo, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him and
serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as thou both shall live?”

“I will,” Angelita answered, her voice somehow filled with wonder.

Smosh then spoke to the congregation. “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”

As agreed, Mr Barthe, who was the father of daughters and the eldest present, performed this office.

Hayden and Angelita then turned to face each other, and he took her right hand in his.

Smosh then said to Hayden, “I, Charles Saunders Hayden . . .”

“I, Charles Saunders Hayden,” the captain of the ship repeated.

Quickly, it was Angelita's turn, though, Hayden thought, she had hardly the breath to manage.

The ring was passed from Mr Hawthorne to Hayden, who placed it on the open book in Smosh's hand. It was then returned to Hayden, who slipped it onto the wedding finger of his bride's left hand.

“With this ring,” Smosh said softly, and Hayden repeated.

“With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with my worldly goods I thee endow. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Hayden and his bride knelt.

“Let us pray.” Smosh spoke to all the men congregated there. “O eternal God, creator and preserver of all mankind . . .” When he had finished, he joined Hayden and Angelita's right hands together. “Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.”

He then, in the common way, pronounced them man and wife and blessed them.

Hayden and Angelita rose to their feet and the entire gathered crew and guests sang Psalm 128, their voices no doubt echoing around the entire anchorage. Given that it was not the Lord's day, this would surely give them something of a reputation as a pious ship.

“Three cheers for Captain and Mrs Hayden!”

And the men cheered as though they had just defeated all the French that ever were.

Hayden and his bride held hands, suddenly wondering what they were to do now.

Another song was sung, this one more sailorly but no less heartfelt. The hands went down to the lower deck then, to continue their celebration, and Hayden's cabin was quickly reassembled and the table laid for a light supper, as a traditional wedding breakfast would not answer at that hour.

It seemed passing strange to Hayden to sit at a table with his bride—
his bride!

And yet he felt a warmth of happiness and amity come over him so that he thought he must be aglow with it, as surely his bride appeared to be.

The supper lasted barely an hour, and his guests went happily and quietly out. Hayden's servant and steward assisted the carpenter, who made a low platform of two grates. Upon this they made as sumptuous a bed as they could manage, and then they too disappeared.

Hayden waved a hand at the arrangement. “It is a modest marriage bed, I fear.”

Angelita came near, and he put his arms around her.

“It is the bride who is supposed to fear the marriage bed . . .” she whispered, “or at least feel some small anxiety.”

“And are you anxious, my dear?”

For a moment she did not speak, but then said very softly, “We have taken a great leap of faith together; we shall see where we land. Softly, I hope.”

“As softly as we can.”

H
ayden awoke to light filtering into his cabin, his limbs entangled with the limbs of another.

“You wake, my darling.” Angelita spoke softly in his ear. “I have been lying here admiring my wedding band. It is so simple and perfect. No one could have choosed better.”

She held her hand up in the light so that the newly forged ring glittered.

How delicate her hand is, Hayden thought.

She turned and kissed him on the lips, and then upon the eyelids and his cheeks. “I am so happy,” she whispered.

“I cannot think you are as happy as your husband.”

“Oh, I am quite more happy, I am certain.” She thought a moment. “What shall we do with this first day of our marriage?”

“We shall find a house ashore that we might let, for you cannot come to sea with me once I am given orders.”

“Why can I not?”

“It is against the regulations, and it is too dangerous, as well.”

“So we will find a house, then. What kind of house?”

“A modest house . . . to go with our modest bed.”

“If I am as happy in our house as I am in our bed, I shall be in ecstasy.”

There came, at that moment, voices from beyond the door. And then one of the voices grew louder.

“Why am I not allowed in?” Miguel said testily. “I share this cabin.”

“The captain and his bride have not yet risen, sir.”

“His bride!”

Angelita looked at Hayden in alarm.

“Before we find a house,” Hayden said, “there is another matter . . .”

They rose and dressed quickly, Angelita in her wedding dress, and then Hayden allowed the door to be opened and Miguel pushed his way in, looking much the worse for the previous evening's wear.

“What is this about a bride?” he demanded.

“Before witnesses, and before God,” Hayden informed him, “your sister and I were married this evening past, by licence and by the rites of the church of this land. It is legal and binding.”

Miguel put a hand up to a beam to steady himself. “You were married outside of our church?” he demanded of his sister.

“Outside of your church, Miguel. I am a member of the Church of England, now.”

“I do not recognise it. You are not of age. Our church will not recognise this marriage.”

“The Church of Rome does not hold sway here,” Hayden informed him firmly.

“It is done, Miguel,” Angelita said softly, “and it cannot be undone while we both live.” She took hold of Hayden's arm. “This is my husband and, if we are so blessed, soon to be the father of my children. Do you wish my children to be born outside of wedlock? That would be a far greater scandal than my marriage to an English officer and gentleman.”

Miguel swayed a moment as though he might fall, then turned his bleary eyes on Hayden. “I should have shot you when first we landed.”

“I will not allow it,” Angelita said with utter conviction. “My
husband and my brother . . . ? I would stand between you. I have joined my future to that of Captain Hayden, Miguel. You had best make your peace with it.”

Miguel stood a moment more and then spat out, “Look what you have become! The wife of a common sea captain!” He turned and stomped noisily out.

Neither Hayden nor his bride moved for a moment, then he turned to her.

A silent tear streaked her cheek. “He is very stubborn, my brother. Very proud. Will it matter that I was not one and twenty?”

“If he could take us before a judge . . . perhaps, but not likely. And, besides, even if the marriage could be annulled, would you find a husband in Spain once your marriage to me was known?”

“Not of the sort my family intended . . . No, I think they will have to accept us. We are man and wife. And now, we must break our fast and go to find this modest house of which you spoke. Will it have a garden?”

“If you desire a garden, I shall move heaven and earth to find you a house so endowed.”

A house, it turned out, was not a difficult thing to come by on the island of Barbados. There were Englishmen in some numbers who spent time overseeing their interests on the island and then returned home to England for extended periods, leaving their homes vacant. With some aid from Admiral Caldwell, Hayden and his bride found and let a pleasant house set on a street of equally pleasant dwellings on a small rise, which encouraged the breeze to cool the high-ceilinged rooms.

Hayden's letter of credit, secured before departing England, was turned into currency, and the few things needed for the fully furnished house were purchased. A dressmaker was located, measurements taken, and a wedding trousseau ordered. Hayden was pleased to see that the
new Mrs Hayden showed an admirable restraint in her expenditures, given that she came from circumstances where restraint was likely a concept to cause amusement.

A few days of this pleasant flurry passed while the
Themis
was watered and prepared for whatever part the admiral would find for her. Hayden divided his time between his ship and his new home and bride, spending nights ashore while the weather appeared settled, trusting Lieutenant Archer and his officers to keep the ship safe and the crew in order.

One morning, however, as Hayden went down to join his ship, he found three more frigates at anchor, newly returned from their cruise, no doubt. His boat awaited him in the appointed place and at the appointed time. It took only a few moments for the cutter to deliver him to his ship, and when he climbed up to the deck, where the bosun awaited to pipe him aboard, he found four apprehensive Africans standing upon the quarterdeck, being gaped at by one and all.

Hearing the bosun's pipe, Wickham broke away from the group and came immediately to his captain.

Hayden nodded towards the visitors. “Our rescued slaves, I presume?”

“Exactly, sir. Mr Barthe, myself, and Mr Ransome purchased them at auction yesterday. Mr Barthe and Mr Ransome remained for the entire auction, sir, and recorded all the sales so that we might avoid being cheated, which we believe the master of the slaver might have intended had we not been vigilant.” Wickham turned to look at the family, who were gathered in a tight knot, man and woman clutching each other and their two children.

“And what becomes of them now?”

“Well, sir, we are now engaged in securing their freedom and trying to make them understand that they are free. We do not have a language in common, sir, so it is very difficult.”

“And once the idea of freedom has been grasped? What will you do with them then?”

“We do not yet know, sir.”

“You do realize that we cannot keep them aboard ship?”

“Indeed, sir. We are attempting to find lodgings or a position for them ashore. We fear they will be taken advantage of or worse, Captain, given their inexperience in our world.”

The African family were likely enough looking, Hayden thought. Certainly, Barthe had chosen some family in good health, given that they would probably have to endure another sea voyage. They stared back at the men gawking at them with almost as much curiosity as wariness. What were they thinking? Hayden wondered. Did they understand they had escaped slavery? Had they realised it was to that horrifying life that they had been destined? If they could make themselves understood, what would their desire be? To return to the home from which they had been torn?

Archer came forward then, touched his hat, and presented Hayden with a sealed letter. “From Captain Jones, sir. And there is a Spanish gentleman in your cabin, with Miguel.”

“That will be the merchant to whom Caldwell wrote. I shall go down immediately.”

Hayden took the precaution of knocking on the door to his own cabin.

Within, he found Miguel and another sitting at his table. Both came to their feet, and the visitor made a leg.

“I am Don Jenero de Otero, Captain Hayden. Admiral Caldwell asked me to visit your castaways and to aid them if it was within my power.” He shook his head. “I have just been hearing the story. A terrible tragedy, but out of it a marriage. May I congratulate you, sir.”

“Thank you. Are you able to offer Don Miguel aid?”

“Oh, yes. We have just been discussing it. He will be my guest for a few days until we find him lodgings or a ship that will carry him on to either Vera Cruz or perhaps Port Royal, from where he would certainly find a ship to carry him the rest of the way.”

“That is good news. Mrs Hayden will be most happy to hear it, though she will miss her dear brother, I am certain. I will leave you gentlemen to your discussion, if you will excuse me.”

Hayden went quickly out of the door, and, at the foot of the ladder to the upper deck, he stopped to read his letter—an invitation to dine with the other frigate captains that day at noon. He tucked the letter away in a pocket, and just as he had a foot on the bottom rung, the Spanish merchant emerged from his cabin.

“Ah, Don Jenero, are you bound for shore? Have you a boat?”

“I am and I do not, but a boat can easily be found here. I know all the masters and all the boatmen, too, for that matter.”

“I would gladly have my own coxswain take you ashore.”

“Thank you, Captain, you are very kind.” He stopped a pace distant. “May I have a moment of your time, Captain Hayden?”

“Of course.”

“You do realise that Don Miguel opposes your marriage to his sister?”

“I do.”

“He assures me she is too young to marry without her parents' consent—even by British law.”

“Mrs Hayden assures me she is of age. I have no reason not to believe her.”

“The Church of Rome would not recognise this marriage, Captain.”

“The Church of Rome holds no sway here, Don Jenero. We were married within the Church of England, in observation of the laws of Britain, while at anchor in an English port. Has her brother considered what would become of Mrs Hayden were he somehow to manage to have our marriage annulled? He should give that serious consideration.”

“I would agree, Captain, and let me say that I personally am unconcerned by this matter. Admiral Caldwell has assured me that you are an honourable gentleman—that your family is known to him.” He made a sweeping gesture in the direction of the island. “I dwell here, Captain, and I obey the laws of your country. I will attempt to help Don Miguel to see this more clearly.” He smiled at Hayden and shrugged. “It is, as the French say, a
fait accompli
. There is nothing to be done for it now but to wish you a happy marriage and the blessing of children.”

“Mrs Hayden and I thank you, Don Jenero.”

A boat was manned and Miguel and de Otero were carried ashore. Hayden finally had his cabin back. He consulted with his officers to discover the progress of readying for sea and was more than satisfied with everything that had been done. Archer, to his surprise, was becoming a competent and efficient first lieutenant. When they had first met, Archer had seemed less than interested in his chosen career, but over the past year, that had changed. Hayden now held hopes that the lieutenant would have his own command one day—and Hayden would be sorry to lose him.

His dinner with the recently returned frigate captains was held aboard Sir William Jones's thirty-eight-gun frigate,
Inconstant
. In attendance were Captain Peter Oxford of the thirty-six-gun
Themis
and Captain Albert Crawley, who commanded the thirty-six-gun
Phaeton
. It would be difficult, Hayden thought, to find two more self-satisfied officers than Crawley and Oxford. The source of this apparent contentment was not something they felt a need to keep secret—at least not from Hayden. They informed him that they were making such sums from prize money that, upon their return to England, they could purchase estates.

All three officers were brown from the southern sun, and the handsome Jones, with his sea-blue eyes and yellow hair, appeared even darker for the contrast. Oxford wore a well-groomed wig, and Hayden knew from scuttlebutt that the man had lost much of his hair, though only three and thirty years. Crawley, Hayden had met on several occasions, and had invariably found him amiable, even jolly, and the sun had brought out the lines around his eyes that creased whenever he laughed or smiled. All three men were well made, though none tall. Jones had the kind of bearing people generally associated with the military, and his uniform would have been the envy of a lord.