Chapter 24: The Order of Saints Maurice and Lazarus

Not a half hour after the squadron cast anchor in the harbour of Cagliari, the church bells across the town began to toll. A number of royal officials assembled on the quay, soon reenforced by Commodore Hastings in his splendid admiral’s uniform and by the captains of the two Sardinian sloops also dressed up in their finest. Then the first boats began to disembark the freed slaves. A crowd assembled on the quay to watch and cheer both rescued and rescuers, and then a military band appeared on the double and took position, accompanying the landing with lively music.

It took over three hours to land the almost 450 former slaves, minus those who had volunteered for Navy service, and of course, for little Teresa. The latter watched the proceedings with big eyes whilst Bartleby stood behind her like an over protective father. It was not necessary. The cute nine year-old had already been adopted by the entire crew, and she was spoiled rotten by sailors from all ranks. Mr. Walsh, the bosun, had even parted with his beloved model of Unicorn for the girl to play with. Thomas already knew that this was normal for sailors who had been away from their families and children for years, and that any man who dared to hurt little Teresa would not live long enough to face a court martial.

Once the disembarkation finished, signal flags rose at Northumberland‘s halyards, ordering all captains to assemble on the quay. Taking a leaf out of his commodore’s book, Thomas dressed in his Nº1 uniform, with gold-buckled shoes, his fifty-guineas sword and his gold medal. Little Teresa made big eyes when she saw him in his finery and he made a point to bend down and tell her he would be gone for the evening. The hug she gave him in response made him smile.

When all captains had arrived on the quay, Hastings addressed them.

“Gentlemen, there will be a royal reception for us this evening. His Majesty, King Victor-Emmanuel of Sardinia, will thank us for the service we rendered. May I first introduce you to Lord Somers, the British envoy at the Sardinian court?”

The introductions were effected, and Thomas had the feeling that His Excellency looked him over with special interest. Apparently, he passed inspection for Lord Somers nodded.

“Gentlemen, in the name of H.M. ministry, I thank you for your gallant actions,” Somers said gravely. “His Majesty, King Victor Emmanuel, will receive us in person and convey his thanks for returning his subjects. His Majesty is a very pious man, of the Catholic persuasion obviously, and he is making a great exception by honouring you. Commodore Hastings and Captain Grey will both be appointed to the Military Order of Saints Maurice and Lazarus for the role they played, again an unprecedented event. You will both require permission by H.M. Ministry to carry the titles, but I ask you to receive them in the interest of our good relations with Sardinia. I shall make a case with the Ministry to obtain that permission for you.”

Thomas’s made wide eyes at hearing that. His mind also worked on the name of the order. Was this a knightly order? He would be a titled gentleman? In the end he swallowed heavily and nodded his assent when Hastings answered.

“We understand, your Excellency.”

“Splendid! Now where are ... Ah, there they come! Please, gentlemen, be seated in those carriages. Commodore and you, Captain Grey, please sit with me!”

Hastings and Thomas took the seats with their backs to the driver whilst Somers sorted the captains into the other two carriages.

“A bloody knighthood, Grey! I certainly did not expect that!”

“Only if the Ministry allows it, Sir,” Thomas said, trying not to jinx the matter.

“Somers says they will. It is too great an opportunity to let go. Imagine, two Navy officers made knights of a foreign military order! The newspapers will love it.”

“Why I, Sir? I feel bad for Captain Benning. He has been my mentor and model since I joined.”

“And he’s as proud of you as if he were your father, Grey! Enough, his lordship is coming!”

Lord Somers sat down in the forward-facing seat and smiled at them.

“Captain Grey, Commodore Hastings informed me that your family is from Surrey. Are you any relation to the Staffordshire Greys?”

“Not to my knowledge, your Excellency. My great-grandfather, Captain Roger Grey, commanded the Lion fourth rate at the Battle of Cape Passaro. With the prize monies he bought lands near Guildford. According to my grandfather, Roger Grey had risen to captain from before the mast. Any relation to the Staffordshire Greys must be very distant indeed.”

“Fourth generation Navy officer then. You must know Mr. Egerton however.”

“Indeed, your Excellency. Mr. Egerton was a close friend of my father and he has taken an interest in me as well.”

“How fortunate for you, Captain. Now, during the proceedings, I shall translate His Majesty’s words for you and vice versa. Kindly keep your responses simple, for my Italian is certainly not the best. Have either of you been to court?”

Hastings nodded. “I attended a levée in ‘08 and was introduced to the King.”

Thomas shook his head. “I have seen little shore leave since I joined Captain Benning’s Wolverine sloop in ‘06, Milord.”

“Well, the Savoian court is nothing like St. James or the old Versailles court. Just avoid turning your back to His Majesty and use your best bow, right foot forward, bend at the hip with your right hand flat over your heart. Hat in your left of course. Ah, we’ve arrived. It’s a small palace, and the good King is not too happy with Boney’s brother-in-law sitting in his fine palace in Torino. It’s hard to be a king these days.”

With that, Lord Somers exited the carriage first, followed by Hastings and by Thomas. The other two carriages arrived as well, and soon the seven British officers were led up a wide stairs and into a grand hall. The hall was fairly packed with Italian gentlemen and ladies of all ages. Thomas and his fellow captains bowed to Signore This and to Signorina That until their backs hurt. Fortunately, wigged servants made the rounds with filled wine glasses, of which Thomas and the other made good use. Then some sort of chamberlain bounced a heavy staff on the floor and announced something in Italian, after which the gentlemen and ladies retreated to the sides of the hall, leaving a 10-foot alley open in the centre of the hall. The official bounced his staff again and announced.

“Vittorio Emanuele, Re di Sardegna, Duca di Savoia, Principe di Piemonte, Conte d’Aosta, Conte della Moriana, Conte di Nizza, Custode della Sacra Sindone, Gran Maestro dell’Ordine Supremo della Santissima Annunziata, Gran Maestro dell’Ordine dei Santi Maurizio e Lazzaro, Gran Maestro dell’Ordine Militare di Savoia!”

The two-winged door at the end of the hall opened, and a slender man in a dark blue and gold uniform entered, followed by a group of gaily dressed gentlemen. Watching his neighbours, Thomas bowed when the King walked past him. His Majesty then sat down on a velvet-covered and gilded chair on a dais at the end of the hall, whilst his gentlemen grouped themselves around him. One of those gentlemen started to speak in Italian and was immediately followed by another man who translated his words into heavily accented English.

“We are very pleased to welcome this evening our valiant allies of the Royal Navy of Great Britain and Ireland.”

“In these times, we must not only fight against the Corsican tyrant and his minions, but also against the scourge of our islands, the pirata di Algeria.”

“Our friends and allies found a large squadron of the pirata attacking our peaceful town of Sant’Antioco.”

“Capitano Tomaso Grey in his fregata Liocorno attacked them bravely followed by the whole English squadron, under Commodoro Araldo Hastings.”

“The pirata were smashed by the big cannons of our friends, and four hundred were taken prisoner.”

“Under the wise leadership of our beloved King Vittorio Emmanuele and with the help of our friends, we could exchange over four hundred poor Christian slaves against those prisoners.”

“Today, our poor brothers and sisters were brought home, so we can help them to join their families again and find the Peace of God, the Almighty.”

“Our beloved King Vittorio Emmanuele, by the Grace of God King of Sardegna, has deigned to reward our English friends for their great service to Sardegna. Commodoro Hastings, Capitano Grey, please step forward!”

Hastings stepped out into the open space and Thomas followed him. Together, with Thomas a half step behind his commodore, they marched stiffly towards the dais.

“Gentlemen, please kneel!”

Both dropped to their knees on the lowest step of the dais and lowered their heads. From this point on, the Italian-speaking official took over entirely, and Thomas ceased to understand the proceedings. After what seemed like an eternity of recitations, two officials hung green robes over their shoulders and Thomas saw two lower legs in his field of vision. A different voice, conveying authority and even haughtiness spoke a formula, and then a hand entered Thomas’s peripheral vision, affixing something to Hastings’ left chest.

Now it was Thomas’s turn. The same voice spoke the formula, and then a white and green cross on a green ribbon was pinned to his uniform coat. The lower legs retreated and the English-speaking official addressed them.

“Please rise, Cavaliere Hastings! Please rise, Cavaliere Grey!”

They both stood and looked around. Lord Somers was standing to their sides and smiling, but he gave a nod to Hastings.

“On behalf of Captain Grey and myself, I thank your Majesty for the great honour you deigned to bestow on us. We, the Royal Navy of Great Britain and Irleand, will continue to fight at the side of Sardinia against the Corsican tyrant and the ruthless Barbary pirates, until the Mediterranean Sea and its beautiful islands are safe and His Majesty, King Vittorio Emmanuele, is restored to the reign over all his rightful dominions!”

It took a minute or two to translate Hastings’ words into Italian, but then the hall exploded in applause. Even the severe looking king nodded his head in appreciation, and they were allowed to retreat into the cover of the other courtiers. Thomas took the opportunity to look at his chest and could not help a silly grin. The white and green cross looked pretty enough next to his Parliament gold medal.

Of course, their fellow captains now crowded them to offer their felicitations, but also many of the Sardinian courtiers wanted to shake his hand. It was strange and exhilarating, but after a few minutes, Thomas’s excitement abated. The king had silently withdrawn from the hall, but most officials were still milling around. Somers informed them that there would be a dinner, jointly hosted by the chief minister and by Lord Somers, in a walled garden opposite the palace, and they had to move there.

It seemed as if the same people who had been present during the official ceremony, save for the king, were at the dinner as well. Each of the English captains was assigned a lady as table partner. Thomas was introduced to Signorina Francesca Gaetani, the daughter of one Colonel Gaetani, a high ranking courtier it seemed. She was young, lively, and she even spoke a few words in English. This, combined with the few Italian words Thomas knew, the Latin he had learned for two years as a boy, and the use of hands and fingers, allowed them a halting conversation of sorts.

He was better off than Captain Muir who had a very taciturn matron for his partner, who made up in appetite what she lacked in conversational skills. Commodore Hastings, by contrast was sitting with none other than with Chiara Massini, who had somehow travelled to Cagliari with her father, who was also seen at the dinner. Thomas kept looking for her shy sister, Apolonia, but she was nowhere to be seen.

The dinner was a delightful affair. The offered dishes were delicious for men who mostly lived on salted meats and weevil-infested hardtack, and the presence of young ladies certainly was another boon. Thomas threw caution to the wind and enjoyed the excellent wines, getting decidedly drunk in the course of the evening. He also got on famously with his table partner, and when it was time to leave, he returned her on unsteady legs to her watchful father offering flowery compliments. He received and accepted a dinner invitation by Colonel Gaetani and issued a counter invitation to dine on board Unicorn.

Commodore Hastings, himself not too sober, reluctantly let go of the lovely Chiara Massini and collected his captains for the return to their ships. Everybody had imbibed to some degree and it showed, with James Muir appearing the most sober of them in spite of his consuming large quantities of wines and spirits. He ascribed this to his Scots heritage and to the weakness of the local spirits. This was contested loudly by his brethren who only had to point at a nearly unresponsive Captain MacAuliffe who of course was a Scotsman too. The merry lot of captains then climbed into their gigs and were returned to their respective ships to sleep off their drunk.

Having followed his father’s advice, given many years ago, to stick to one sort of drink only, paid off for Thomas. He awoke decidedly late on the next morning, at 7 bells in the Morning Watch, but he felt none the worse for wear. At least, nothing bothered him that could not be cured by a quart of hot coffee, expertly prepared by Bartleby from fresh beans that he had procured in Cagliari.

Little Teresa sat across from him at the table and told him of her early morning excursion to Cagliari with Bartleby, who had purchased the coffee beans, but also freshly baked bread and a large earthen jar of honey. To guess from the smudged corner’s of Teresa’s mouth, she’d had some honey herself, but she helped herself to another piece of bread which she covered liberally with the golden honey. This then led to Thomas forcibly washing her face with a wash rag, something that caused her to dissolve in giggles. Bartleby watched them with a smile that would have been more fit for a grandfather.

After breakfast, Thomas inspected the ship before assembling his officers. He related the invitation to dine at Colonel Gaetani’s house. He picked Hearn, Jameson and Dr. Fox to accompany him, leaving the ship under Lt. Darby’s command. For the counter invitation to his own cabin on the next evening, he invited Darby, Royce and Jameson, giving each of them some exposure to their Sardinian hosts. They all nodded their acceptance, but Mr. Royce, the sailing master and the only married officer, requested the privilege to host Little Teresa in the wardroom whilst Thomas was ashore. The girl was quickly becoming the ship’s mascot, and Thomas smilingly granted the wish.

They also discussed the shore leave for officers, warrant officers and mates, and Darby suggested a schedule that would give at least the volunteer crew members a chance to see the sights and taste the tastes of Cagliari.

The next hours were spent writing reports and letters. The news of his Italian knighthood needed to be conveyed to a number of his friends, but foremost to Mirabel, Mrs. Benning and Mr. Egerton. He also wrote to let Mirabel know about Teresa, and his plan to take care of her until he could contact her paternal grandfather. This he undertook, too, writing a letter to Mr. Benjamin Wharton of Godalming, in which he explained the circumstances under which he came to care for little Teresa Wharton, and asking for directions. Of course, all these letters would stay locked in his desk until an opportunity presented itself to send them to Gibraltar.

It was almost time to dress for the dinner at Colonel Gaetani’s home when he was finished with his writing. His Nº2 uniform would do he decided, but he pinned the cross of his order to the chest and took his honour sword. His officers were waiting on deck when he emerged from his cabin at the appointed time, all of them having gone through some effort to spruce up their uniforms.

They went ashore in the longboat where they were received by a servant of Colonel Gaetani who gave them transport in an open carriage. The colonel’s villa was located a mile or more to the east of the harbour, at the foot of a hill and surrounded by olive trees. Their host received them cordially on his steps and then proceeded to introduced them to his family. His wife, Donna Lucrezia, was a stunningly beautiful lady of perhaps forty years. His older son was absent it was explained, and his younger son was a boy of perhaps fifteen years. There were three daughters, however, Francesca, 20, Lolita, 16, and Anna-Maria, 13; the latter two promising to grow into sultry beauties like their mother, whilst Francesca came a little bit after her father but was a fine looking girl all the same.

Before leaving England, Thomas, helped by Mirabel, had purchased a number of small items that could be used as gifts in social settings, and in his conversation with Francesca he had learned about her mother and sisters. Therefore he was able to delight the Gaetani women with two books of engravings, a finely bound diary book and, for Francesca, the sheet music for Sonata quasi una fantasia from Mr. Beethoven, who was becoming increasingly popular in Britain. Colonel Gaetani beamed at his visitors and ushered them into his finely appointed villa.

Dr. Fox became enraptured by some of the paintings that adorned the walls in the vestibule and dinner hall and began a lively discussion with their host, revealing his excellent command of Italian and a strong interest in Italian Renaissance paintings.

Meanwhile, Francesca dragged Thomas to the music room where a fine, Viennese-made five-octave piano was the centrepiece. Sitting down on the bench in front of it, she spread the music sheet on the sheet holder and played the opening notes, first haltingly, then with increasing verve. Thomas, with his limited knowledge of music, thought her a highly accomplished player and he complimented her as best he could whilst her mother looked on proudly. The rest of the family and his officers joined them and Francesca had to play the piece again, leaving one pair of proud parents, two pouting sisters, and four hopelessly infatuated Navy officers.

Perhaps to mollify his second daughter, Col. Gaetani gave Francesca a sign to which she responded with a smile and a nod. Lolita Gaitani then produced a beautiful traverso flute. She waited for the short intro from her older sister, and then played a hauntingly beautiful melody, subtly framed by the piano accompaniment. It was not just the music, but also the vision of the nubile Lolita, with her full lips caressing the flute, that caused embarrassing tightness in Thomas’s breeches.