Chapter 19: The Belle Isle

Lady Carter watched her husband as he gave orders to the officers of HMS Asia. She felt pride when she saw the undivided attention he received from those men. Nine years ago, when she was a girl of sixteen, the quiet authority of then eighteen year-old Anthony Carter had impressed her and had made her rethink her prejudice against that young man. Nine years, and what a change they had brought. Anthony Carter was a senior captain now, and a Knight Commander of the Bath to boot. Most importantly, though, he was her husband. Harriet’s heart swelled when she thought about their first weeks of matrimony, about the deep love that flowed between them. Just a few moments ago, he had picked her up in his arms, in plain sight of the entire ship, throwing etiquette to the wind, just to show her that he loved her. Yes, Harriet Carter considered herself a lucky woman.

The wind showed signs of strengthening, whipping her heavy skirt around her legs. She did not care. The skirts she wore were made for windy conditions, in fact made out of heavy, oiled, suede leather, and not likely to be blown up in any wind short of gale strength. Lady Fallon, standing with her husband on the other side of the quarter deck, was not as well prepared, and the crew were treated to the sight of her stocking-clad calves. Harriet suppressed a smile. Amanda Fallon was a novice to shipboard life, not born to a Navy family like Harriet, nor an experienced traveller. She had married Rear Admiral Sir Pierce Fallon, and had decided to join him at his new command in Barbados.

Blond curls appeared over the coaming of the nearest hatchway, instantly whipped around in the wind. Harriet was astonished that Lucy had not come up earlier. Her husband Dr. Wilkes, or rather, Mr. Wilkes, as the members of the Royal College of Surgeons styled themselves, the ship’s surgeon, was standing with the other wardroom members on the lee side of the quarter deck. The ship was lively in the choppy waves of the Channel, but one look at Lucy assured Harriet that her friend was comfortable.

They were an unlikely set of friends. Lucy Wilkes, née Gutteridge, had once been on the way to New South Wales, the penal colony on the Australian continent, convicted for the theft of a loaf of bread. She’d been an orphan, the eldest daughter of an apothecary, and with their money running out, she had taken the bread to feed her younger siblings. The ship in which she and 50 other female convicts were transported, was attacked and taken by pirates, but Lucy managed to escape in a small boat together with the slain captain’s daughter. They were picked up by HM frigate Medusa, under Captain Anthony Carter, and Andrew Lambert, Harriet’s younger brother and second lieutenant in Medusa, had fallen for the lively and pretty blonde girl.

After their return to England, he had asked his sister, then in her unhappy marriage with Rupert Palmer, to take in the girl. A deep and lasting friendship had developed between the two young women that prevailed even after Andrew Lambert broke his engagement to Lucy. Now, Lucy was freshly married to Jonathan Wilkes, a respected London surgeon. The chance to see the West Indian waters and islands had prompted Wilkes to give up his large London practice and join Asia as a ship’s surgeon, an arrangement that had allowed Lucy to accompany both her husband and her friend Harriet.

“Good morning, Lucy. What kept you? We are already passing the Isle of Wight.”

Lucy grinned wryly.

“Cramps,” she grimaced. “You know how lucky you are?”

Harriet of course, did not suffer from menstrual cramps as she was in the early stages of pregnancy.

“Oh dear, can I help you?”

“I already prepared a pain relief, and it’s getting better,” Lucy answered. She was the daughter of an apothecary and herbalist, and what she did not know about herbal medicine was not worth recording.

“This ship sails like a dream compared with the Pretty Jane or even the Medusa. Jonathan says that the French build much better ships. I wonder why they lose the battles then.”

“Their captains are not equal to ours,” Harriet joked, but there was pride in her voice, too. Her father was a full Admiral, her brother was a junior Captain, not to speak of her husband. Harriet was a Navy wife, through and through.

“Your modesty is most becoming, my dear,” Lucy laughed. “Ah, there is our Admiral and his wife. I better wish them a good morning, too.”

Together, the two friends walked across the deck to where Sir Pierce and his wife stood.

“Good morning, Sir Pierce, good morning, Lady Fallon,” Lucy greeted them.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wilkes. Are you comfortable with the ship’s movements?”

“Oh, absolutely, I have a cast iron stomach,” Lucy joked. “I was only having a slight indisposition, nothing that a good concoction could not solve.”

“I did not know that Dr. Wilkes was a herbalist, too?” Sir Pierce inquired.

“Oh no, I am the herbalist. My father taught me, and it comes in handy from time to time.”

“You would not have a recipe against sea sickness?” Amanda Fallon asked weakly.

In a second, Lucy was all concern.

“You should just try and chew small bits of salted pork. Do not drink afterwards for an hour, even if you are thirsty. I shall then make you a tea of camomile and mint leaves, to soothe the stomach.”

“You should also sit and wrap yourself into a warm cloak,” Harriet seconded, noticing that the sea sickness made the young woman shiver with cold.

Sir Pierce was clearly relieved seeing the two women taking charge. Had Amanda been a raw lansman who complained about sickness, he would have simply ordered her to do some heavy physical labour to distract her. However, she was his cherished wife and expecting a child, he had felt quite clueless as to what to do with her.

A steward was summoned to get a deck chair for Lady Fallon, a warm blanket, and a tarpaulin, to keep her dry. Another steward was to boil water whilst Lucy went to collect the appropriate tea leaves. Lucy and Harriet spent the next hours mothering Sir Pierce’s young wife.

It was good they did, because both Sir Pierce and Tony were very busy. The ship was fresh from the dock, the crew was raw, and there were a thousand things to be decided or taken care of. Sir Pierce filled in unobtrusively whenever he saw that his flag captain was already taking care of four things at a time. By early afternoon, things calmed down, and the crew received their long overdue meal.

Obstinately, Tony insisted on a sail drill in the afternoon. He was worried about the possibility of encountering an enemy ship with his clumsy crew. Gun drills had been conducted to some extent whilst lying at anchor, but the top men were still woefully inadequate to the standards of performance usually expected in a King’s ship. It was a very tired free watch that turned in that evening, and a very tired and hungry Captain who joined his Admiral and the women for a late dinner.

Tony knew that he had neglected his wife all day long, and he felt his conscience prick him about it. When he started to apologise however, Harriet cut him short.

“Do not even mention it, darling. This is a critical point of the journey, the crew is untrained, and you did not have one moment to spare. I had Lucy and Lady Fallon for company, and I was fine. You cannot run around me like a lovesick fool whilst sailing a third rate. I understand and appreciate your responsibility, and I would never expect you to neglect your duty to appease me.”

Amanda Fallon looked at Harriet with an open mouth. She had nagged her husband a few times during the day, demanding his attention. Now she blushed deeply. She resolved to mould her behaviour on board the Asia on Harriet Carter’s example.

“Pierce, dear, I want to apologise for my behaviour today,” she told her husband. “I felt sick, and this is all new to me. I trust that in a few days I shall be quite comfortable. Everybody has been so helpful.”

Sir Pierce, who had been annoyed a few times, smiled back at his wife.

“Never worry, my dear, we shall make you a Navy woman in no time. What do you say, Sir Anthony, should we have Dr. Wilkes and his charming wife at our dinner table, too?”

“Oh certainly, but not every day. The wardroom should be quite happy with Mrs. Wilkes attending the dinners, and it will reduce the drinking.”

“That’s right, Captain,” the Admiral laughed. “A woman such as Mrs. Wilkes will have a salutary influence on those young officers.”

After dinner, Tony went on deck once more to give orders for the night. He had the sails shortened as a precaution, and he left orders to be roused whenever something out of the ordinary happened.

Harriet was already in bed when he joined her. She watched him as he undressed methodically, laying out the clothes in a way that would allow him to dress in the dark in case he was called on deck. He washed himself with a cloth and put on a fresh shirt before he joined her in the cot they shared.

They were both dead tired, and for the first night since their wedding, they did not couple. Tony might be called on deck at any time, and they had decided to remain chaste for most of the journey to avoid improper situations. To sleep with his sweet wife in his arms was a treat in itself, though, and Tony slept as soundly as he could expect.

At two bells, he had to go on deck for a few minutes to supervise a change of course, but after that, he turned in again, and he slept until sunrise. When the runner knocked on the cabin door, he gave a sleepy Harriet a good morning kiss and dressed quickly.

Two hours later, Anthony Carter joined his wife, Lucy Wilkes, and the Fallons for breakfast. It had already become clear that Sir Pierce considered good food a necessity, and since they could both easily afford it, their table was richly laid.

“How are things on deck, Sir Anthony?” the Admiral asked between mouthfuls.

“The good news is that we made it through the night in one piece, Sir Pierce,” Tony answered wryly. “The wardroom is well stacked, and the warrant officers know their trade. We just don’t have enough able seamen.”

The Admiral chuckled. “I’m glad I don’t have this sort of worries anymore. I take it that you will have the crew exercise?”

“Yes, Sir Pierce. This morning, we shall have another sail drill. I shall not even contemplate letting those landlubbers take down the top masts. We’d have two or three large spars pierce our hull if we tried that. In the afternoon, we shall clear for action. Lady Fallon, I advise you to have everything of value stowed away beforehand. The hands we detailed for the after cabin are experienced, but things tend to break when they are stowed away in a hurry. Harriet, you know about these things. Will you help Lady Fallon and Lucy?”

“Lucy should know more about this than I. I’ve never sailed in a man o’ war myself.”

Lucy Wilkes nodded. On the homebound voyage in HMS Medusa she’d had a small cabin to herself, and she recalled the haste with which the after guard had cleared the cabins.

“You better stow away all personal clothing as well. Some men regard our underwear as collectibles,” she giggled.

Lady Fallon blushed slightly whilst her husband fought a grin, a futile attempt. In spite of herself, Lady Fallon laughed, too.

“I suppose I have to adapt my views of propriety to the surroundings,” she finally said.

After breakfast, the women attended to the sorting of their personal possessions. That finished, they showed on the quarter deck and watched with awe and pity as the crew was performing endless manoeuvres in the rigging — setting sails, reefing sails, even bringing out the studding sails, as the wind was moderate. Sailing under all plain sail, the Asia proved to be a surprisingly fast ship, in spite of her wide beam. It helped that her copper bottom was new, but it was also her lines that made her fast for her size.

“Damn it, Carter, where was that kind of ship when I commanded third rates?” Sir Pierce asked.

When the log was cast, Asia turned in 9 and a half knots in the moderate breeze, admittedly under studding sails, but nonetheless a fine turn of speed.

Tony did not answer. The Clyde would have run 11 knots, even twelve, under these conditions. He still mourned the loss of his big frigate and her well-trained crew. He returned his attention to the ship and ordered the studding sails run in again.

It had to happen, almost inevitably. One of the raw men in the fore top lost his grip and his footing and fell from the top gallant yard, a 120 feet drop. Luckily, he worked the windward side, and be bounced off the ratlines twice before he smashed onto the deck. The men on the quarter deck had not seen the incident, with the main tops’l and main course blocking their view, but the urgent call for the doctor alerted Tony. He rushed to the forecastle and arrived there together with Mr. Wilkes. The fallen man lay in a puddle of blood but was still moving. Wilkes examined him, taking great care not to move the man too much. More to himself, he listed the injuries.

“Broken collarbone, contained, ribs broken, too. Open fracture of the left tibia and the left femur.” He pinched the skin on the uninjured leg, and the man flinched. “This is good. He may not be paralysed. Surgeon’s mates! Lash him to a plank and bring him into the sick bay!”

He looked up at Tony.

“Will it be possible to reduce the rolling of the ship whilst I operate, Sir Anthony?”

“Can you wait another six hours?”

“Why?”

“We can reach Falmouth in six hours. It’s a protected bay and we could anchor. In the open Channel, even if we heave to, the ship will still be lively.”

Wilkes nodded. “Then I shall try my best to keep him alive until we reach Falmouth.”

“Thank you, Doctor!” Tony answered formally. “I shall inform Sir Pierce.”

It turned out that Sir Pierce was not averse to a brief stop in Falmouth. Apparently, he had a cousin there, and he planned on visiting him during the enforced stay. They reached Falmouth in the late afternoon. The sailing master was familiar with the bay and they entered it in the weakening light of a setting sun.

The young recruit had been sedated with a helping of rum, and in the light of several lamps, Wilkes began to set the broken bones and repair the damage to muscles and skin. Once during the surgery, the young man stopped breathing, and to the astonishment of the surgeon’s mates, Wilkes used his own breath to inflate the patient’s lungs until he started breathing on his own again. When the operation was finished an hour later, the injured man was still alive, and the gossip of how the doctor had brought a dead man back to live spread like wild fire.

Tony made the best out of the short stay in Falmouth, and work parties exchanged the water in the barrels against fresh water from the shore all night. He had also realised that they might be short on drink, and he had managed to purchase three cases of Rhine wine from a smuggler and six kegs of ale from a local brewer.

The next morning, the young man had recovered enough to drink broth and water, and Mr. Wilkes was regarded as a sorcerer by the crew. The officers knew that the successful surgery boosted the morale of the men. Sir Pierce made it a point to invite the doctor and his wife to lunch whilst the Asia was already ploughing through the choppy waves south of Ireland. Lucy beamed with pride at the praise that was heaped upon her husband, and Tony relayed the fact that Wilkes had already served the Navy as a volunteer in the Portsmouth infirmary.

Lady Fallon was feeling much better already, thanks in part to Lucy’s teas, and she was able to eat with some show of an appetite. Sir Pierce was very pleased with the presence of the Wilkes on board. He proposed toast after toast, and he was more than a little drunk when he finally rose from the table.

Mr. Wilkes excused himself to look after his patients, and Lucy wanted to sleep a little in her chamber. Sir Pierce and his wife repaired to their own cabin, whilst Tony sat down at his desk to look over some reports.

Harriet sat on a chair by an open window, enjoying the fresh Atlantic air. She pretended to read, but in truth, she watched her husband. Tony was reading the reports and making short notes on the margins. He then called for his secretary, and with an apologetic look at Harriet, he dictated several reports and answers to reports.

She saw his look of despair at the sheer amount of paper work, and she had to smile. She knew from her father that there was a huge difference between being the captain of a frigate and the captain of a line-of-the-battle ship, not the least difference being the amount of paper work involved, and she sympathised with her husband, knowing that for an active young man like him, dictating letters to a dull secretary was punishment. When he had finally finished dictation and the secretary had withdrawn, she stood up and crossed the room.

“Poor darling!” she said, pulling his head against her womb. “You must hate this part of your profession.”

“I could do without it,” Tony admitted. “I take consolation out of the fact that my dear wife appreciates my efforts.”

Harriet chuckled. “I appreciate your efforts, thank you very much, but not necessarily your efforts at dictation.”

A suppressed moan could be heard at that moment, and they both looked at each other and smiled.

“Lady Fallon appreciates her husband’s efforts, too,” Harriet whispered and giggled.