HMS Belvidera - 32. Chapter 32

May, 1796

“Land Ho!” came the cry from aloft. “Land ho, off the starboard bow!” Granger looked around as dawn broke, light enough for the lookouts to see land, but not light enough for it to be visible from the deck yet. Then they saw it, looming like a huge floating piece of land in the middle of the sea: the Rock of Gibraltar. From the Mediterranean it was at its most imposing, with its sheer cliffs giving it the feel of the impregnable fortress that it was. Or at least as impregnable as they hoped it was. Granger was haunted by O’Hara’s past failures and hoped that when Spain inevitably entered this war, he wouldn’t be the British officer to surrender the Rock after nearly a hundred years of British occupation.

Somers joined him at the quarterdeck railing. “An imposing sight, sir.”

Granger was conscious of the closeness of his body, and reminded of their intense sexual interlude last night. He smiled, thinking about how well the sexy marine satisfied his carnal urges. “It is indeed, Captain. It is somewhat less imposing from the other side.”

“Surely the fortifications to the seaward are ample to discourage any foe, sir,” Somers said.

“I was thinking of the vices that await our men behind those walls,” Granger observed. “We will need to coordinate marine patrols while our men are ashore on leave.”

“Of course sir,” Somers agreed reluctantly. “Won’t there be military guards ashore?”

“I am not convinced they will be sympathetic to a Jack in trouble,” Granger said with a grin.

“I see your point, sir,” he said, smiling back. Rowdy sailors ashore rarely inspired love and affection from the authorities, or at least not from those authorities who did not benefit from the revenue of the taverns and whorehouses.

“Mr. Roberts,” Granger called.

“Sir?”

“We will anchor near the New Mole,” Granger ordered. “That will put us close to the city and the Governor. As close to the King’s Bastion as is prudent.”

“Aye aye sir,” Roberts said. The morning passed as Belvidera made slow progress to the west, tacking in the face of moderate westerly winds. They conned her well beyond Point Europa, allowing for plenty of room to wear ship and glide with the wind into port. Granger opted to go a bit farther west than was probably necessary, but it gave him time to study the ships in port, and he had no desire to start his new assignment by being forced into Rosia Bay.

Belvidera was on the starboard tack, heading toward Algeciras, when Granger finally gave the order: “Hands wear ship!” Belvidera turned toward Gibraltar, her bow seeming to survey the whole bay as she did, and headed straight for her chosen anchorage. “Mr. Roberts, take in all but the main course, if you please,” Granger ordered.

The hands dashed up the masts and out onto the yards. Granger watched with pride as most of Belvidera’s canvas vanished as if by magic. That was some good sail handling. The change in speed was immediate. From a charging bull, Belvidera had turned into a plodding ox, gently moving toward her anchorage. Granger spotted the Lydia about a cable’s length away. He studied her with his glass and saw Captain Campbell on her quarterdeck. Granger put down his glass and removed his hat in greeting, and Campbell reciprocated the gesture.

Granger watched the shore get closer, waited until he was at his chosen spot, and then gave the order to anchor. The anchor splashed forward, and the main course was taken in as well. Belvidera had arrived in Gibraltar. “Call away my gig. You’re with me, Mr. Clifton.”

“Aye aye sir,” Roberts and Clifton said. Granger dashed below to grab his best uniform coat and his papers, and then made it back onto the deck just as his gig was being pulled around. He lowered himself into her and nodded to Jeffers, who set the crew to rowing to the shore. Granger smiled as he saw Campbell’s gig being lowered. Presumably Campbell was too anxious to be off to England and refit to wait for the Governor to summon him.

Granger and Clifton disembarked and were surprised to find no coach waiting for them. “Perhaps we were supposed to wait for a summons, sir,” Clifton volunteered.

“It is no matter,” Granger said. It was a beautiful day, so he led Clifton on the brief ten minute walk down Main Street to the Governor’s House. The Guard saluted them crisply as they walked past, but offered no guidance. It wasn’t until they reached the door that a footman was there to intercept them. Usually the arrival of a ship was a big deal, even in a busy port like Gibraltar. The arrival of a warship was usually a much bigger deal still, yet here it seemed to be of no real importance or concern. Granger tried not to be annoyed at the lack of any reception whatsoever.

“Captain George Granger, of His Majesty’s Ship Belvidera, to see Governor O’Hara,” Granger said crisply.

“Right this way, sir,” the footman said. He guided them to the Governor’s study. Granger had been here years before as a midshipman. Only the occupant had changed.

General O’Hara looked up and seemed surprised to see him. He rose gradually, as befitted a man who was closing in on 60 years of age. The years had worn the General down, but his back was still ramrod straight, and his eyes had a spark to them that belied his slow movements.

“Captain the Honorable George Granger, of His Majesty’s Ship Belvidera, Your Excellency,” Granger said, introducing himself. “This is Midshipman Lord Barnfield.”

“Welcome to Gibraltar gentlemen,” the Governor said. “What brings you to our Rock?”

“I have been ordered to temporarily relieve Captain Campbell so the Lydia may return to England for a refit, sir,” Granger said. He was surprised that O’Hara seemed to be unaware that the Lydia was being sent off.

“I was not aware the Lydia needed a refit,” the Governor replied angrily. Granger handed him his orders. “Is it not the custom of the Navy to keep me informed of movements of ships directly under my direction?” Granger didn’t know why the Governor wasn’t being kept informed either. That would appear to be a major breach of protocol, but he didn’t want to walk into what was obviously a minefield.

Granger swallowed hard. “I cannot speak to that, sir, but I can promise you that while Belvidera is under your orders, I will keep you well-apprised of our activities.”

The Governor eyed him. “I know you. You were at Toulon. You were Hood’s Flag Lieutenant. That was damn fine work you did there, taking out those batteries on the headland.”

Granger smiled in appreciation. “Thank you, sir. I fear I was not as gallant as you were in that battle.”

“Hardly gallant. I was captured,” he said bitterly.

“You surrendered after fighting the good fight, sir. That was an honorable act,” Granger said, pouring on the charm. He saw Clifton watching him curiously, but Granger just ignored him. Clifton could think what he liked. It would do no harm to be in O’Hara’s good graces.

“It will be nice to have some cultured gentlemen in our midst,” O’Hara said, implying that Campbell wasn’t. Campbell was a Scotsman. He was older than Granger, in his late thirties, and had a reputation for being crusty and disagreeable. “Perhaps you gentlemen will join me for dinner?”

“We would be honored, sir,” Granger said. O’Hara rang a bell and an aide appeared. “Please show Captain Granger and Mr., uh...”

“Clifton, sir,”

“Yes, of course. And Mr. Clifton to the dining room. I will join you shortly after I have had a chance to read Sir John’s latest ramblings.”

“Yes sir,” Granger said, and followed the aide to the dining room. The table was already set for dinner. A waiter handed them a glass of wine, a chilled white wine, and then left them.

“Strange hospitality, sir,” Clifton observed.

“Yes it is,” Granger agreed. “But we will adapt as best we can.” Granger heard footsteps coming from the door and turned, expecting to see the Governor. Instead it was a much younger man. He was short and thin, and dressed in a Colonel’s uniform. Granger guessed him to be in his late 20’s or early 30’s, with brown hair, hazel eyes, and skin so tanned it was bronze. He was quite handsome.

“I am Colonel John Harleton, adjutant to the Governor,” he said affably.

“Captain George Granger, Midshipman Clifton,” Granger said, introducing them.

“I am sorry I was not on hand to greet you, Captain. That is usually my responsibility. I was up on the Rock inspecting our defenses.”

“I have heard they are extensive,” Granger observed.

“You have never seen them?” Harleton asked. Granger shook his head. “Then you must join me for a tour. Perhaps we can start after dinner.”

“Assuming His Excellency has no objection, it would be my pleasure,” Granger said.

“I’m sure he’ll approve,” Harleton said affably, then his tone and demeanor changed slightly, becoming more cautious, or maybe it was slyer. “I know your brother.”

“I have two brothers. Which would you be referring to?” Granger asked cautiously.

Harleton laughed. “Albert. I was in India last year.” Granger wondered at Bertie’s ability to complicate his life even though he was halfway around the world.

“How is he? I haven’t received a letter from him for some time,” Granger said.

“He is charming and rich, and unscrupulous,” Harleton said with a smile. “He participated in the capture of the Moluccas and made a fortune. I believe he was appointed Governor of one of the islands, although I’m sorry I don’t’ remember which one.”

“That’s quite alright. Your news is most welcome, and more recent than my own. I suspect he has been too busy to write to his younger brother.”

“He spoke of you often. He has a great deal of respect and love for you, although I think he is glad you were not sent back out to the Far East.” So Harleton knew that was the plan as well. They had planned to send him out to India to keep an eye on Bertie.

“I am evidently less susceptible to his charms,” Granger joked. He was enjoying Harleton, but the mention of Bertie, and of his original orders, made him guarded. Their conversation was interrupted by a hurricane in the form of Captain Campbell.

“You don’t even have the courtesy to report to me upon arrival?” he demanded of Granger. “You raise your hat, and then dash ashore, showing me no respect as your senior officer?”

Granger eyed him coolly. “My orders were to report to Governor O’Hara, not to Captain Campbell. You are hardly acting as the exemplar of courtesy, Captain.”

“Captain Campbell is merely showing a disdain for my office that he has already exhibited many times so far,” O’Hara said as he entered the room. “You may attend me at 4:00 today and I will give you your orders.”

“I meant no disrespect, Your Excellency,” Campbell stammered.

“You most certainly did,” O’Hara said. “And that is why I will decline to share my table with you. Good day, Captain.” Campbell looked around, flustered, and then bowed slightly and left. O’Hara sighed. “A most difficult man, but not as difficult as the admiral who sent him here.” Granger hoped he wasn’t referring to Jervis.

“And which admiral is that, if I may ask Your Excellency?”

“Of course you may ask, Captain. Sir John tells me you are already acquainted with Admiral Mann.”

“We are not on the best of terms, sir,” Granger said honestly, knowing this would score him favor with the Governor.

“Neither am I on good terms with him. So if we are to trust the old maxim, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, that already makes us friends, Captain.” The Governor was much wilier than Granger had initially given him credit for.

“It would give me great pleasure to consider you a friend, sir,” Granger said. Food was placed on the table, and that directed the conversation to the meal at hand. O’Hara provided a good table with a heavily Spanish menu, much to Granger’s surprise. He was clearly a gastronome, and Granger found dinner with him was easy. The General babbled on about food, while the rest of them simply ate. With the meal out of the way, the waiters produced a smooth port. O’Hara leaned back into his chair in a relaxed posture.

“I must apologize for not greeting you with much enthusiasm on your arrival,” the Governor said. “I have not had a cooperative relationship with the Navy thus far.”

“Think nothing of it, Your Excellency,” Granger said. “I am hoping we can change your opinion of His Majesty’s Navy.”

“Campbell is one of Mann’s stooges. He thinks his job here is to sit in port and spy on me, while his men raise hell in my town,” the Governor growled. Granger was watching Harleton, and sensed even more outrage from him. Then again, he was probably the one who was responsible for cleaning up the messes Campbell’s men left behind.

“Naturally my men will want shore leave, and they’re a good crew so they deserve it, sir,” Granger said cautiously. “Perhaps I can work with Colonel Harleton to do our best to minimize any problems?”

“That would be splendid,” the Governor said. Harleton smiled too.

“I was going to show Captain Granger the defenses after we are finished, Your Excellency,” Harleton said.

“You’ll find them quite stout, Granger,” the Governor said. “I’ll get to keep my sword here.” He was referring to not having to surrender, to yield up his sword.

“I never doubted that for a moment, sir,” Granger said. “I am wondering if there are any tasks that you require of me. I understand I am to watch over the Straits and to be available for your needs.”

“I think we will give you a few days to settle in, to let your men have some shore leave, and then we will discuss those problems in the area which are vexing,” The Governor said.

“Yes, sir,” Granger said, and hid his disappointment. He wanted to know what the issues were, what the task ahead of him was. It seemed he was destined to have a brief interlude in the middle of a war, in a port surrounded by less-than-friendly neutrals. It was unsettling and surreal, but it was unavoidable.

“Then I will leave you to your tour while I go and berate Captain Campbell one more time before I send him packing,” The Governor said.

“Yes sir,” Granger said, trying not to smile. They stood while the elderly Governor strode slowly out of the room. He turned to Harleton. “What would you recommend as far as shore leave is concerned?”

“I would request that you limit the number of men ashore to 50 at a time. I am unsure of how that affects the crewing of your ship, but I assume she could still acquit herself in a fight without them if you had to put to sea?”

“That would be about the maximum number of absences we could handle without damaging our fighting ability,” Granger said, smiling. “You appear to be well-versed in the ability of our ships.”

Harleton smiled back, his white but crooked teeth making a stark contrast against his dark skin. “I make it my business to know what others are capable of.”

“Mr. Clifton, you may return to the ship. Tell Mr. Roberts that he may grant the men shore leave in parties of 50 at a time. There is to be a marine guard ashore, ten men, at all times we have men on leave.”

“Aye aye sir,” Clifton said, and hurried to execute his orders.

“My men can handle policing duties,” Harleton said, seemingly offended.

“Colonel, I hope to leave this port with as much goodwill as you are showing me upon arrival. If I left nursemaiding drunken seamen to your soldiers, who no doubt have their own jobs to do, I doubt I would be able to accomplish that goal,” Granger said with a grin.

“Now that you put it that way, your purpose is quite clear. I must thank you Captain. I hope you will excuse me if I seem terse at times. It may take a bit to shed ourselves of the memories of Captain Campbell.”

“I will do my best to wrench them from you,” Granger said, smiling even more broadly.

“Let me show you our Rock,” Harleton said. He led Granger outside where they mounted two spirited stallions. Harleton led them toward the Spanish border and showed him the massive fortifications built during the last war. The Spanish had entered the American Revolutionary War solely to recapture Gibraltar. These fortifications were one of the prime reasons that effort had failed. Granger hoped they would suffice in the war that was coming. The redcoats manning the walls seemed steady, ready for anything. They grinned at him, and even gave him a bit of a cheer when he arrived. “Your reputation precedes you,” Harleton said as he eyed Granger with an admiring gaze.

“It is a high compliment,” Granger said uncomfortably. He wondered if he’d ever get used to fame. It was annoying and inconvenient in London, where the crowds would mob him. Here, the people would nudge each other and point at him as he rode by. That wasn’t quite as bad.

Harleton led them up the winding trails and showed him the caves that had been expanded during the last siege. Granger eyed the 32-pound cannon with appreciation, noting that they would be difficult to put out of action. The guns were sheltered by the caves, by the mass of the Rock itself. Then they went even higher, to the peak of the Rock. It was a marvelous day, with mild weather and a cloudless sky.

“Legend has it that this is one of the Pillars of Hercules, guarding the entrance to the known world. The other is supposedly over there, near Ceuta,” Harleton said, pointing over to the coast of Africa. One could almost visualize a gate hung between them.

“And now it serves almost the same purpose, only for His Majesty,” Granger observed. “Do you post a lookout up here?”

“Occasionally,” Harleton said.

“With your permission, I’d like to leave a party behind to set up a station up here. I think if I had four men, they could take two-day shifts up here and keep the Straits under observation. We’ll rig a signaling mast and they can inform me if they sight anything worth reporting.”

“I have no problem with that, and I’m sure the Governor won’t either,” Harleton said. “I can make plans to billet and provision your men.”

Granger threw a big smile at him. “I would be most appreciative.” He made to leave, but Harleton dismounted instead. He seemed nervous about something. Granger dismounted as well and followed him over to a natural ledge. They stood there, taking in the magnificent view of the Mediterranean.

“You acquired quite a reputation for yourself when you were in the East Indies,” Harleton said.

“Indeed? A reputation for what?” Granger asked in a friendly manner.

“Your exposure of that smuggling ring, even when it involved your own brother, that makes it seem almost as if you’re a Puritan.”

Granger laughed. “Hardly a Puritan, and certainly not pure.”

“That’s good to know,” Harleton said. He seemed tense, as if he had something he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure that he should. Granger stood next to him, pondering his words, and then started to see where this line of questioning was taking them.

“Is there something going on here that I should not be aware of?”

Harleton eyed him nervously. “You are an easy person to trust, George. I’m wondering if I should let myself fall into your web.” He turned to face Granger, and their eyes met. The energy that flew between them, the connection they made, was exciting and dangerous at the same time.

“It can be a fun web,” Granger said, and even he was surprised at how flirtatious his words sounded.

“I think I might like that,” Harleton said. He had a really engaging smile, and he showed it to Granger. Then his expression became serious. He sat on the ledge and Granger sat next to him. “There’s an arrangement here that some might consider to be trading with the enemy.”

“And you are thinking that you would rather be upfront about it, than try to keep it hidden from me?” Granger asked.

“As I said, your reputation precedes you.” Granger laughed. “Occasionally, a Spanish ship, usually a small ship, will put into port. She carries with her French wine, a delicacy that we are missing since we are at war. The governor and other officials turn a blind eye to it, and presumably the cargo is then offloaded.”

Now Granger understood. “I would suspect that the governor is well aware that the cargo is offloaded, and I’m sure he is compensated for turning a blind eye.”

“I must say that you are quite perceptive, Captain,” Harleton said. They both ignored the fact that Harleton would be compensated as well.

Granger pondered his options. He could keep a weather eye out for this brig, and when she came into port, he could seize her and expose the whole scheme. He’d probably even make a hefty amount of prize money for his efforts. But he’d make an enemy of O’Hara, Harleton, and all of their friends. He knew that smuggling was rampant, and that it aided the French to the degree that those funds propped up the fragile French economy. Still, it was hard to see how money flowing to French winemakers was going to sway the whole course of the war. “I appreciate you sharing this information,” Granger said, stalling for time.

“I’m sure the governor would have no problem compensating you for your acquiescence,” Harleton offered.

That was something Granger could not do. Even if he turned a blind eye to the trade, he couldn’t allow himself to profit from it. “That won’t be necessary. I do not think it is consistent with my duties to inspect Spanish ships entering this port, provided there aren’t too many of them.”

“Then I think you will find yourself to be a welcome visitor here, Captain,” Harleton said with a smile.

“In the East Indies, the band I unraveled was preying on our allies. That elevated their crime to a level that was impossible to overlook. And then, to have one of His Majesty’s ships captured by those rogues was just too much. It does not fall into the same category as buying some French wine from greedy Spaniards.”

“I understand the difference,” Harleton said. “We will endeavor to keep things as hidden as possible, so you won’t be forced to take action. And most important, I should think, is that you have my pledge, my word of honor, that our conversation here was entirely confidential. I can pledge the word of the governor on this matter as well.”

Granger’s mind began to grapple with this whole thing, with the smuggling ring they’d developed. Harleton said he’d be a welcome visitor, unlike Campbell. Campbell must have discovered this ring. “I am wondering if Captain Campbell uncovered this arrangement.”

“He did, and he was most disagreeable when it came to negotiating appropriate compensation for his silence,” Harleton said bitterly. So Campbell had put the squeeze on them.

“That’s why Lydia is being sent home to England, instead of simply being refit at the docks here,” Granger said.

“The governor has made it clear the Lydia is unwelcome in this port. Campbell has a hard time objecting to it, since he is complicit in the whole thing.”

“With my reputation, such as it is, why was I allowed to fill in for Lydia?”

“That wasn’t the plan,” Harleton said. “We owe that to the mercurial Sir John Jervis. I must say that I’m quite glad he chose you, though.”

“Do you think he knows about your operation here?” Granger got nervous then. Was Jervis testing him?

“I cannot speak to that, but I can tell you that you weren’t sent here specifically to disrupt it. I am hoping you will trust my statement, for I can give you no additional proof. This is not a test, George.” Did that mean Jervis was involved? Granger put that aside. It just wasn’t worth creating a ruckus over.

“And of course, that is more than enough,” Granger said, turning on his charm.

“There are multiple pleasures to be found on the Rock,” Harleton said, changing the subject. “There are of course common whores for the men, but there are women available for officers.”

Their eyes locked again, and the magical connection returned. “I’m not interested in those women,” Granger said, in a soft but flirtatious tone.

“What are you interested in?” Harleton asked in the same tone, his hazel eyes twinkling. Granger moved closer, so their faces were less than a foot apart.

“You,” Granger said. He watched Harleton smile briefly, and then wiped the smile off of his face with a kiss, a kiss that started out tentatively, and became passionate quickly. Harleton dropped down between Granger’s knees and pulled out his dick, then swallowed him whole in one swift movement. Granger let him work his magic, then made him stand up and pulled down Harleton’s trousers. Harleton’s dick was like Harleton: short and skinny. He seemed self-conscious about it, but Granger soon dispelled any concerns he might have had with his own oral skills.

Harleton’s dick was small enough that with just spit for lube, Granger turned around and let Harleton enter him. He thrust in and out urgently, the feeling of being penetrated coursing through Granger’s whole body. All the while Granger looked out across the Straits, at the calm seas and large mountain on the other side, in Africa. He felt Harleton’s hand on his cock, stroking him to orgasm slightly before Harleton himself got there. As Granger blasted his load all over the ledge, he decided that Gibraltar was a nice place to visit.