HMS Valiant - 36. Chapter 36

January, 1800

HMS Valiant

The Eastern Mediterranean

Granger finished his calculations, and then waited for his other officers, and most importantly, his midshipmen, to also plot Valiant’s position. They’d dropped Waltham off in Latakia and had retraced their course. Now they were on their way home. Unfortunately, the lookout’s cry of ‘land ho’ frustrated Granger’s effort to quiz his officers, since now the midshipmen knew they were near land.

“Let us see how you have done,” Granger said. He looked at their work, and was not surprised that Llewellyn had done well. Travers had gotten close as well. But for Genarro, the calculations involved seemed to be quite beyond his abilities. “Mr. Genarro, I wish you were correct in your fix on our location.”

“I did not do it right, sir?” he asked. He really was a good officer, but for this one deficiency.

“I fear that if you are correct, we are about three miles from St. Paul’s Cathedral in London,” Granger said, getting a chuckle from everyone. “You will have to work more diligently on your navigation.” He said that sentence more firmly, with an eye to Meurice as well, whose job it was to train the young gentlemen on such topics.

“Aye aye sir,” Genarro said.

“We are in fact just south of the island of Crete,” Granger said. “The last time I was here, I was captured by a French battleship.”

“Let us hope that such an occurrence does not happen to you every time you pass this island, my lord,” Treadway joked.

“Let us hope,” Granger said. “Mr. Weston, please rig the wash deck pump. I think I will have my bath.”

“Of course, my lord,” Weston said.

“As that is the only reliable way to get clean aboard a ship, I think I will join you, if you have no objections,” Daventry said.

“You are welcome to join me,” Granger said. He went to his sleeping cabin and masturbated quickly, hoping that would keep his dick down during his bath. The one benefit of the horribly cold water that doused him was that it also had a shrinking effect.

Granger was careful to avoid looking at other men when they were bathing, lest they could see the lust in his eyes, and so he had resolved to do that with Daventry. It turned out to be impossible. Daventry was just as handsome and polished without his clothes as he was with them on. His chestnut hair was darker in the large tuft of hair that surrounded his dick, but a little lighter in the patches under his arms and on his chest. He seemed to have skin that was naturally tanned, making Granger wonder if he hadn’t had a Spanish or Italian ancestor. But even though it was hard to avoid staring at him due to how attractive he was, the main reasons were his jovial comments and surprised squeals as the frigid water hit him. As with much of his time with the man, Granger found himself laughing and joking.

When they were done, wrapped in robes, they removed themselves to Granger’s cabin and sat next to the stove, which Winkler had thoughtfully stoked for them. “That was a most chilling yet refreshing experience,” Daventry said through chattering teeth.

“It is a requirement that the men and officers bathe weekly, but I like to do so more often if possible,” Granger said. “Despite the discomfort, I find it to be most rewarding.”

“Your obsession with personal cleanliness is well known,” Daventry teased.

“I would hardly call it an obsession,” Granger noted.

“There are not many people who have complex baths in all of their homes,” Daventry observed.

“I suspect that will change,” Granger said with a chuckle.

“Indeed,” Daventry agreed. “Ever since Brummel experienced your baths, personal hygiene has become one of his cardinal requirements.”

“He was one of the more interesting people I was lucky enough to host,” Granger said with a grin, remembering that bath.

“The Beau has never been accused of being boring,” Daventry said, using Brummel’s nickname. “I am surprised that, as much as you have contributed to the trend of dandyism, you retain your long hair.”

Granger instinctively ran his hands through his blond hair, and contrasted it to Daventry’s, which was cropped short. “I guess I never really contemplated cutting it,” Granger said.

“You are known to have Whig sympathies, and that has become one of their more popular trademarks,” Daventry said.

“I’m not sure that my political views are that polarized such that I could fully consider myself a Whig,” Granger said. “Even though most of my friends are Whigs, I’m a member of Brooks, and I tend to agree with them more often than not.”

“And they are so much more fun than the Tories,” Daventry said, which was true.

“They are,” Granger agreed. “I would say that I probably align mostly with the Duke of Portland and his branch of the party.” That would include Spencer and Fitzwilliam.

“You are, above all, a government man?”

“I would assume that is obvious since I am one of His Majesty’s officers,” Granger said.

“That does not mean you have to mirror His Majesty’s political views,” Daventry noted.

“Yet in time of war, unless it is an issue on which I feel strongly, I would be inclined to support the government in power,” Granger said.

“You mean Mr. Pitt,” he said.

“As he is currently in power, that would be true,” Granger said with a smile. “I tend to get on well with most of the cabinet members and leaders of Parliament and its various factions.”

“All of them?” Daventry asked.

“I find it difficult to stomach the radical Whigs, especially Mr. Tierney and Mr. Whitbread,” Granger said. “Advocating for reform is one thing, but trying to start a revolution is a bit counter-productive.”

“You could probably get many Frenchmen to agree with you, though not out loud,” Daventry said, making Granger chuckle. “Mr. Fox is quite fond of the French.”

“Mr. Fox does not understand the true nature of this French government,” Granger stated. “I have not had a warm relationship with him.”

“That is one of the more surprising things,” Daventry said. “The Prince of Wales is quite devoted to Fox, yet despite the fact that you two do not like each other, it has not negatively impacted his opinion of you.”

“Perhaps that is because His Royal Highness likes me better,” Granger teased.

“That is possible,” Daventry replied with a chuckle. “Your father is an avowed Tory.”

“As is my older brother,” Granger said. “I have an easier time getting along with high Tories than radical Whigs, even though I am no more fond of their views.”

“That is because they are usually aristocrats,” Daventry said.

“Or perhaps it is because they are gentlemen,” Granger countered. “I have a more liberal view of things, especially as regards religion.”

“And in that you would definitely not see eye to eye with His Majesty,” Daventry noted. “He is being most contentious about the emancipation of the Catholics.” Catholics could still not vote, and could not be members of Parliament. They were truly second-class citizens.

“I was under the impression that emancipating the Catholics was part of Mr. Pitt’s overall scheme of the union with Ireland?” Granger asked, confused.

“Evidently that was Mr. Pitt’s plan, but he did not count on His Majesty’s opposition to the concept,” Daventry said. “Pitt views it as part of his pledge, of the deal for the union with Ireland, while His Majesty views maintaining the ban on Catholics in parliament, at least, as being part of his coronation oath.”

“That does not leave much room for compromise,” Granger said.

“It does not,” Daventry agreed. “My views are similar to yours, but I get along with Mr. Fox.”

“How splendid for you,” Granger said sarcastically.

“I fear that I do less well with Mr. Wilberforce,” Daventry said.

“Ah, the man of God who would free the slaves,” Granger said. “You’re against abolition?”

“I am not,” Daventry said. “But one can see the fairness and benefits of abolition and still despise the tedium that is one of Mr. Wilberforce’s sermons.”

“True,” Granger agreed with a chuckle.

“Yet you still have not told me why you are still attached to your long hair,” Daventry said, driving them back to the original topic.

“His Majesty’s navy tends to be more conservative.”

“Short hair was originally made popular by His Grace the Duke of Bedford, in protest against the tax on hair powder Pitt initiated,” Daventry said. “So in that regard, short hair could have been perceived as an anti-government statement.”

The 5th Duke of Bedford

“It has been almost five years since that happened,” Granger observed.

“And in that time, it has become less of a protest and more of a fashion,” Daventry said. “I would think that it would be much more convenient aboard a ship of war at sea.”

“This much is true,” Granger agreed. “None of my officers have adopted the style.”

Daventry chuckled. “They worship the ground you walk on, Granger. They are not likely to take such a step and distance themselves from you.”

“Then if I were to crop my hair, your theory suggests that they would also do so in a relatively short period of time,” Granger said.

Beau Brummell

“That is my theory, and I am willing to wager ten guineas that within a fortnight of you cropping your hair, at least two thirds of your officers will have also done so,” Daventry said. “Let us count those that occupy the wardroom.”

Granger got up and looked in the mirror, gazing at his long blond hair, and then glanced over to Daventry with his short chestnut mop, and found it much more appealing. He held out his hand to Daventry. “Done.”

“Then we must crop your hair,” Daventry said.

Granger called for Winkler. “My lord?” Winkler asked, appearing quite promptly.

“I have decided to crop my hair so it is similar to Lord Daventry’s,” he said.

“Who normally cuts your hair, Granger?” Daventry asked.

“I do, my lord,” Winkler said protectively.

“Then perhaps this first time, you would like to have some instruction on how to do the crop properly,” Daventry said. “If you will pass the word for Boles, he will be able to show you how it is done.”

Winkler wasn’t overly happy about that, regarding his role as Granger’s caretaker with ferocious jealousy, but he bowed to the inevitable. “Of course, my lord.”

“You have a barber in your entourage?” Granger asked playfully.

“Keeping up appearances is important,” Daventry teased. They chatted on about mostly politics. “It is certainly taking a long time for Boles to arrive.”

It had been longer than was reasonable. It was irritating that Winkler had not returned either. Granger was about to pass the word for them when his cabin door opened and four people walked in. Boles and McGillivray looked positively terrified, Genarro looked outraged, and Winkler looked worried. “My lord, there was an incident,” Winkler said to Granger.

“Indeed?” Granger asked, wondering what awful tidings these four were bringing.

“I was going back to the midshipman’s berth, sir, in order to retrieve my sextant,” Genarro said. His words were fast and animated, and he was clearly upset. “Winkler was on his way, and he accompanied me.”

“I am glad to see you are practicing your navigation,” Granger said in a relatively cheerful way, to try and calm the excited Sicilian.

“Yes sir,” Genarro said. “When we got to the berth, we found that one,” he said, pointing at McGillivray, “penetrating that one,” he said, pointing at Boles, “as if he was a woman!” Granger glanced at Boles and McGillivray, who looked down at the deck in humiliation. Daventry merely sat and stared at the group attentively. His approach suggested that he was going to let Granger handle the situation, as was proper, but Granger wondered how earnestly he’d interfere if these men were tried and convicted of sodomy.

“Who else was present and witnessed this?” Granger demanded.

“Just us, my lord,” Winkler said.

“And no one else on the ship is aware of this incident?” Granger asked.

“No, sir,” Genarro said. Granger stole a glance at Daventry and noticed that he was very annoyed, but not surprised. That would bear some thought later.

“I would be obliged if you gentlemen would remain where you are,” Granger said to Daventry, Winkler, Boles and McGillivray. “I will return shortly.”

“Of course,” Daventry said.

“Mr. Genarro, please join me,” Granger said, and led the young man into his sleeping cabin. It was deliciously warm, with the stove stoked. Granger was aware that he was still wearing his robe. He got directly to the point. “I would prefer to pretend that this event never happened.”

“Sir?” Genarro asked, shocked.

“I do not honestly care what my men do when they are off-duty, as long as they are discreet. These men were indiscreet, and for that, we will find a way to punish them that is private.”

“So it does not bother you that they were intimate with each other, sir?” Genarro asked.

“It does not,” Granger answered. “Does it bother you?”

“I do not know,” Genarro said, puzzling it in his mind. “It is wrong, and it is illegal, but I am not sure what harm it has done.”

“And those views largely reflect my own,” Granger said. “These men are not under my orders. I know very little about their background. I only know that they are important to Lord Daventry, and he in turn is very important to the government. If you press charges, I am going to have to summon a court martial, and that makes this entire incident public.”

Genarro thought about it, his mind whirling, until he glanced at Granger and noticed how annoyed his captain was. “Sir, of course I will do as you ask,” Genarro said hastily, realizing that he was all but questioning his captain’s orders. “You have my word that I will say nothing.”

“Thank you, Mr. Genarro,” Granger said. “I knew you would do as I asked, but I also wanted you to understand why I asked you to remain silent.”

Genarro thought about that. “You are explaining to me that arresting men who are not members of the crew is not a good idea, especially when it will bring a lot of notice to our ship, sir.”

“That is what I am saying,” Granger said. “Have you encountered men buggering each other on this ship prior to this incident?”

“I have not, sir,” Genarro answered.

“I would submit, then, that it is not a widely practiced act, but an isolated incident perpetrated by passengers,” Granger explained. “If sodomy were rife about this vessel, then it would make sense to take assertive public action.”

“I understand, sir,” Genarro said. “Thank you for explaining it to me.”

“Educating His Majesty’s officers, even those sent to me by His Sicilian Majesty, is one of my duties,” Granger said with a smile. “If thoughts of this incident plague you in the future, you may come to me for guidance.”

“Thank you, sir,” Genarro said. He seemed confused and relieved. Granger escorted the young Sicilian out of his cabin, and then returned to find Daventry, Winkler, Boles, and McGillivray exactly as he’d left them, as if they’d been frozen in time.

“I’m terribly sorry to have troubled you, my lord,” McGillivray said.

“Mr. Genarro has revisited the incident, and has decided that his eyes must have been mistaken, and that he has seen nothing,” Granger said, ignoring the man’s apology. “Can you corroborate his story, Winkler?”

“I saw nothing unusual in the midshipmen’s berth, my lord,” Winkler said. That almost made Granger laugh, noting Winkler’s circumspect answer. He wondered if that was because buggery was common in Valiant’s midshipmen’s berth.

“Then as there are no witnesses, and there are no charges, I would submit that this event did not happen,” Granger said.

They stared at him, all of them except Winkler surprised. “Thank you, my lord,” Boles said, coming to his senses first.

“Well I have a way that you may show your appreciation,” Granger said. “As I recall, I had summoned you so you could show Winkler how to crop my hair so it is short, like Lord Daventry’s.”

“Of course, my lord,” Boles said, smiling broadly. “Would you go get my equipment?” That was directed at McGillivray. He, in turn, looked to Daventry, and having gotten a slight nod of approval, left to go retrieve Boles’ barbering tools.

Boles worked with Winkler to set up a chair in his cabin, and to drape a towel under it, and then they directed Granger to sit in it. McGillivray returned and handed Boles a small leather kit. “Your tools.”

Boles took out some scissors and razors, and then ran his hands through Granger’s hair. It was almost a sensual caress, and that, along with the visualization of Boles being fucked by McGillivray was enough to give Granger a pronounced erection. He was glad it was hidden by the folds in his robe. “You have very thick and beautiful hair, my lord.”

“Thank you,” Granger said uncomfortably.

“You do not have much in the way of curls, my lord,” he noted. Granger noticed that Daventry had a very attractive wave in his hair.

“So what will you do?” Daventry demanded. He stood there behind Granger, as if supervising.

“We need a mirror,” Boles said to Winkler, who left then returned with such a device, placing it on the table in front of Granger. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Winkler said.

“What I intend is to cut the hair such that it is much the same length, my lord,” Boles said. “That way, when it is combed either forward or back, it will show some interesting variation.”

“I am in your capable hands,” Granger said, which was especially true since he had no idea what Boles had planned. And so Boles began, taking his time, and taking even longer as he showed Winkler how to trim his hair, and even made Winkler do some of the cuts. Granger stared ahead, shutting out all of these people and focusing instead on the incident between McGillivray and Boles. Hopefully Genarro would not let his irrepressible Italian temperament cause him to talk of this. Granger stopped himself. Genarro was a gentleman, and had given his word. Granger was confident the man would say nothing. What intrigued him more than that was Daventry’s reaction. Did he condone their behavior? He had not pressed Granger to punish them, which was probable if he had been upset about it. He let that roll around in his mind, and was surprised when he pulled himself back to his senses and stared at his new reflection.

“All done, my lord,” Boles said proudly. Granger looked at his hair, which was combed forward, the locks pushing into his face in a way that Granger grudgingly acknowledged was very attractive.

“You look very good, my lord,” Winkler said happily.

“Indeed you do,” Daventry said.

Granger ran his hand through his hair and smiled. “I like it. Thank you Boles.”

“No, my lord, thank you,” Boles said.

“I think that it is time for me to get dressed,” Granger announced, having lounged around in his robe for some time now. “After that, I will check on our progress, and then I would like my dinner.”

“Of course, my lord,” Winkler said. He and Daventry retreated to their respective cabins to get ready. “That was a good thing you did, my lord.”

“Cutting my hair?” Granger asked, since he knew that wasn’t what Winkler was talking about.

“No, my lord, although I do like this look on you,” Winkler said.

“It would appear that Lord Daventry’s two assistants are quite enamored with each other,” Granger mused.

“I think, my lord, that it is a deeper feeling that exists between them,” Winkler said. “It is just my feeling; I have nothing more solid to base it on.”

“I suspect you are correct, then,” Granger said. He finished dressing, and then admired his new haircut in the mirror. He saw Winkler smiling at him, and that made him frown, since he was guilty of the sin of vanity. He strode out of his cabin and onto the deck, to find that things were much the same.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” Weston said.

“Good afternoon,” Granger responded.

“If you’ll pardon me for saying so, I think your cropped hair looks quite handsome, my lord,” Weston said with his typical grin.

“Thank you,” Granger said stiffly. “We must make sure that we pass close to Malta.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Weston said.

“There is an ongoing effort to retake that island from the French, and it is possible that the admiral has gone there in person to supervise the operation,” Granger explained, even though he was under no obligation to do so. He was just trying to keep the topic of conversation away from his new hairstyle.

“We’ll keep a weather eye out for our fleet, my lord,” Weston promised.

“Perhaps, if we are lucky, we can meet Lord Nelson at sea, and avoid a call at Palermo,” Granger said with a grin.

“We have been lucky on this voyage, my lord,” Weston said. “It will probably continue.”

“I will be in my cabin,” Granger said, and went back through the door, vaguely hearing Weston’s acknowledgement.

He found Daventry seated at the dining room table, looking relaxed as the servants hurried around to put their meal together. “And are we on course, Granger?”

“We are indeed,” Granger confirmed, as he sat at the table with Daventry. “We are hoping to intercept our fleet off Malta, and thus save ourselves the joy of another visit to Palermo.”

“It is a lovely city,” Daventry noted.

“It is, but I have dallied around enough on this voyage, courtesy of the Elgins and the Guild,” Granger said.

“I do not know if I shared with you that I have sailed on His Majesty’s warships before this,” Daventry said.

“You have not told me of these voyages,” Granger said.

“I was aboard the St. Fiorenzo, under Captain Neale, when she took the Duke and Duchess of Württemberg home.” The Duchess of Württemberg was the King’s oldest daughter, Princess Charlotte. “I also took an excursion to the French Biscay coast aboard the Jason, commanded by Captain Stirling.”

“Valiant is larger than either of those vessels, even though they in turn are large frigates,” Granger mused. St. Fiorenzo and Jason were both 38-gun frigates. “Both Captain Neale and Captain Stirling are commanders with excellent reputations.”

“They are indeed,” Daventry said. “I tell of these voyages so you will know that I have some means of comparison. I have enjoyed this trip so much more.”

“I would think that the riches we have recovered would be compelling, in any event,” Granger teased.

“Yet as we are unsure how much of our riches His Majesty’s ministers will be disposed to allow us to keep, there is not much use in counting it as part of our pocket change as of yet,” Daventry noted.

“It is not,” Granger agreed.

“And it is not just your charming company and this excellent fare that would make me prefer this ship to any other,” he said.

“I must thank you for those compliments,” Granger said.

“Even your stove is not a guarantor that I would choose this vessel should I need to be sent somewhere else.”

“You are only saying that with the knowledge that your next posting will probably take you to the West Indies, where there is no need for a stove,” Granger joked, making both of them laugh.

“I would not be surprised if my next trek was north, where the Russians, Swedes, and Danes are shaking their swords at us, but that remains to be seen,” Daventry said.

“Then you should reconsider the benefits of the stove,” Granger said, even as he ate the food in front of him, and poured himself and Daventry another glass of wine.

“The reason I would choose this vessel is because of your abilities,” Daventry said. Granger became mildly annoyed, as he usually did when people heaped praise on him, but Daventry ignored his discomfort with a smile. “You have the respect not just of the men who serve you, but all of those who are around you. You have the ability to see a situation quickly and completely, and the strength and fortitude to make decisions to take the best advantage of that situation.”

“Thank you for your kind words,” Granger said uncomfortably. “And while I am not discounting them, I would like to change the topic.”

“You wish to speak of Boles and McGillivray,” he said.

“I do,” Granger said. “You knew of their liaison.”

“I did,” Daventry said, almost mimicking Granger. The man was almost irrepressible. Granger said nothing, waiting for him to explain. “They were part of my regiment when we were sent to Ireland to help keep order. That was in ’97.”

“So you were there during the uprising?” Granger asked. That had happened in 1798.

“I was,” Daventry said. “It was a damnable thing, and more horror than anyone should have to witness. It was as if those Irish had demons inside them that were let loose all at once.”

“The rebels were vicious,” Granger agreed.

“It was not just the rebels,” Daventry said. “The worst were probably the Orangemen, but our troops were no angels either.”

“I suspect they weren’t,” Granger agreed.

“Boles and McGillivray were caught in much the same situation and were referred to me for discipline,” Daventry said. “Rather than take onerous action against them, I took them into my personal service.”

“That is a most unusual course of action,” Granger said.

“Perhaps,” he responded, “but it has made them fiercely loyal to me, and as my work sometimes takes me into dangerous situations, I can rely on them to accompany me and do what I ask.”

“Are you blackmailing them?” Granger asked, full of indignation.

“Certainly not,” Daventry snapped, one of the only times Granger had seen him lose his composure. “They have a weakness, a love for each other. I have enabled them to indulge in that, and I have protected them. It is not a forced loyalty. It is truly a caring one.”

“That was both convenient, and kind of you,” Granger said. Daventry raised his eyebrow in surprise, since Granger had used the term ‘kind’, which suggested his approval.

“We make a good team,” Daventry said.

“Yet you did not intervene when they were brought before me as their judge,” Granger said.

“I did not need to,” Daventry said.

“That was quite a risk,” Granger said.

“No, it was not,” Daventry said. “I was confident that you would handle the situation exactly as you did. It was the smart thing to do. If you would not have, we would have had a conversation about it.”

“It would have been too late at that point,” Granger noted.

“I disagree,” Daventry said. “Would you have defied my request to handle such a matter on my own terms?”

“Unless it had an immediate impact on my ship, I would not,” Granger said.

“You did not seem overly repulsed about the two of them being together,” Daventry said.

“And neither did you,” Granger countered.

“I have learned that when one removes ones trousers, it is much more fun, and much better, to put aside proprieties,” Daventry said.

Granger laughed. “That much is certain, and if rumors are true, it is a maxim you have lived by.”

“The rumors are overstated, but I do not work to disprove them,” Daventry said. “It makes me seem dangerous and interesting.”

“You would seem dangerous and interesting even if you never took your trousers off,” Granger said.

“And I will take that as a high compliment, provided you explain why you were not shocked,” Daventry said.

“I share your views, and it would not be the first time I have encountered sodomy,” Granger said.

“Your actions in the fleet off Toulon are legendary,” Daventry said. “Yet you have been implicated by that vice yourself. It makes you an enigma.”

“Is that better than being dangerous and interesting?” Granger teased.

“I am not sure, but it is probably similar at least,” Daventry replied. “The most damaging allegations against you involved Captain Calvert.”

“He is a good friend,” Granger said, barely managing to use the word ‘is’ instead of ‘was’. “And he is a good officer. He is also very handsome, and has a playful personality, not unlike your own.”

“You are accusing me of being a sodomite?” Daventry asked.

“You are accusing me of being one? Or you are accusing Captain Calvert?” Granger challenged.

“I am not,” he said. “Then, of course, there is your firm friendship with Arthur.”

“That has certainly caused me some problems, but Arthur is a dear friend, and he is worth it,” Granger said.

“I never had an affinity for him like you did,” Daventry said.

“Maybe that is because you never let him suck your dick,” Granger joked.

“Who says that I did not?” Daventry countered. They both laughed for a while.

“Arthur fights his own demons, but I have been a loyal friend to him, and he has been a loyal friend to me.”

“Then perhaps, if you think about my relationship with Boles and McGillivray in that context, we will understand each other more clearly,” Daventry said.

“I will ponder that,” Granger said. “But in any event, the matter has been handled, and hopefully your men will be more discreet in the future.”

“Hopefully,” Daventry said. “I was of a mind to spend some time with your young gentlemen.”

“For what purpose?”

“I have noticed that you do not have a schoolmaster aboard. I would think they would benefit from some work on classical literature, especially as we are in the vicinity of the cradle of civilization.”

“I fear I have been remiss in educating my officers,” Granger said, and began to flagellate himself.

“They are good men from good families, Granger,” Daventry said. “I am not accusing you of neglect, merely trying to think of ways I can be of assistance.”

“I appreciate your efforts on their behalf,” Granger said. “I am not sure if they will appreciate them.”

“They will,” Daventry said. “At some point in the future.” They chuckled at that, and enjoyed the rest of their dinner.