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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Northern Exposure - 64. Chapter 64

May 25, 1801

Visby, Sweden

 

Granger returned to the ship, greeted by the requisite sideboys and bosun’s mates, and found Douglas on deck. He could sense that the man was in crisis and felt sorry for him.

“Thank you for the ride home, my lord,” Fitzgerald said playfully.

“I was glad to help,” Granger said. “Mr. Douglas, would you join me for a nightcap?”

“Of course, my lord,” he said nervously. Granger led the way back to his cabin, greeted Winkler, then showed Douglas to his gallery and motioned him to have a seat. The windows were ajar, letting in the breeze, while Calliope had swung at her anchor such that the lovely town seemed so close that one could imagine one was actually there. The distant noise of rowdy revelry added a pleasant aural ambiance. They said nothing as Granger poured them both a glass of port and joined him, sitting in the other comfortable leather chair. “I am very sorry that I failed in my duties, my lord,” Douglas said, although it was almost a sob.

“And I, in turn, must apologize to you,” Granger said.

“My lord?” Douglas asked, stunned.

“I have been preoccupied since taking command of Calliope and have not spent as much time with you as I should, explaining my expectations,” Granger said.

“Begging your pardon, my lord, but I would not want you to claim responsibility for the errors I have made,” Douglas said.

“Let us focus not on the blame, but on the issue,” Granger said gently. “Your father undoubtedly has agents who manage his properties, does he not?”

“He does indeed, my lord,” Douglas said, not getting his point.

“And when he gives the agents a directive, he expects them to execute it,” Granger concluded. Douglas nodded. “And if the tenants disagree with the directive, how does the agent handle it?”

“He would most likely demand that the tenant do as directed, unless it was a reasonable request, in which case he would refer it back to my father, my lord,” Douglas said, clearly thinking of how things worked on his family estates back in Scotland.

“On this ship, Mr. Douglas, you are the agent,” Granger said. “You are my executive officer. Your organizational skills, from what I can see, are superb, as is your seamanship, but you have yet to take command of your officers.”

“I understand, my lord,” Douglas said, and seemed distraught. “It has been difficult.”

“When you became first lieutenant, your role changed, and your relationship with everyone else on this ship changed,” Granger stated. “You may have viewed them as friends, or allies, but whatever they once were, they are now your subordinates.”

“I did not demand they treat me as such,” Douglas mused to himself.

“There is no shortage of cutthroat politics in the Navy, so I would ask you to ponder this. People who you assumed were your friends or allies, and who do not treat you as their superior officer now that conditions have changed, are trying to sabotage you,” Granger said.

“Is not sabotage a strong word, my lord?” Douglas asked, upset and a bit irked that Granger would make such an accusation.

“Is that not what is happening now?” Granger asked. “Captain Pitcairn clearly intends for you to be his puppet, a person he can dominate. That is obvious to me, and it must also be obvious to the other officers.”

“He is a bit outspoken, my lord,” Douglas agreed.

“When he challenges you, the other officers see that you are weak, and your orders become meaningless,” Granger said. “And that makes you ineffective as a first lieutenant. Would that not be an apt description of sabotage?” Douglas stared at him for a bit, his mouth agape, as if only now digesting the situation.

“I feel that I have botched my assumption of duties, and now it is hard to rectify things, my lord,” Douglas said.

“It is not too late to change, Mr. Douglas,” Granger said. “From this point forward, you must demand that the officers and men treat you with the respect due to the first lieutenant. And by that, I mean as soon as you leave this cabin.”

Douglas stared at him in confusion. “Will they not find that sudden change disruptive, my lord?”

“No,” Granger said firmly. “It will be what they expect, and what they should be used to, as none of them are new to naval service. They may be surprised, but that is of no concern to you.”

Douglas nodded and took a drink of his port. “I am contemplating how I will do that, my lord.” What he wanted to say, but didn’t, was that he was trying to find the courage to take such a stand.

“The alternative is for me to ask for your transfer when we return to the fleet,” Granger said. It was a threat, but he tried to couch it in a way that made it less intimidating. “You may have enough influence to overcome such a stigma, but it will weigh on your mind from this point forward, and you will regret it for the rest of your life. And the people you worry about confusing and offending, those officers will become objects of your resentment. Is that how you want your career to evolve?”

“It is not, my lord, but I am afraid I have already damned myself with my performance thus far,” Douglas said. “I have always somewhat idolized Your Lordship, and your disapproval is devastating.”

Granger reached over and put his hand on Douglas’s arm. “I have not written you off. If I had, we would not be having this discussion, I would have simply transferred you when we returned to the fleet. I am talking to you because I think you have the potential to succeed in your role, and I am trying to guide you in that direction.”

“You will not hold these past days against me, my lord?” he asked, as if he expected that Granger would carry a grudge.

“Rather I would be proud of you for rising to the challenge,” Granger said. “This is not easy, so when you are successful, it will be that much more rewarding to both of us.”

Douglas actually smiled at him. “Thank you, my lord. I feel as if I have been the world’s biggest idiot.”

Granger laughed. “You have too much competition to even contemplate such an award.”

“My lord, this may be an inappropriate question, but did you ever encounter this problem?” Douglas asked.

“I never served as a first lieutenant, so I do not have that exact experience, but I have had similar challenges,” Granger said. Douglas looked at him expectantly, so Granger explained. “My first ship in the Navy was the Barracuda, a lovely frigate. Some years after that, I found myself a post captain, while my former first lieutenant had risen to the rank of master and commander of a brig. He had a hard time dealing with the fact that the young midshipman that I once was, was now his senior. He treated me disrespectfully.” Granger was thinking of Preston, and how rude he’d been to Granger when he’d encountered him with Travers.

“How did you handle that, my lord?” he asked.

“I demanded that he treat me with the respect due to my rank,” Granger said simply. “Until he did that, I refused to engage with him at all.”

“I would suspect that made him angry, my lord,” Douglas opined.

“Rather, it made him realize the error of his ways,” Granger said. “He was the one who was wrong, and he ultimately apologized for his behavior and our relationship now is friendly. People will only resent you if you demand respect that is not yours, or that you have not earned.”

“I hadn’t looked at it that way, my lord,” Douglas said.

“Think back to your experiences in the Navy, and I think you will find examples of that behavior,” Granger said. “It could be with an able seaman who finds an ordinary seaman not showing him respect. The able seaman will explain things to him.”

“I have definitely seen that, my lord,” Douglas said with a grin. “I have approached this in the entirely wrong way. I can see that now.”

“Clarity is the first step, Mr. Douglas,” Granger said with a smile. “The next is making the others understand.”

“My lord, I fear that I did not have the best example with Lieutenant Haversham, begging your pardon, as I know he is a relative,” Douglas said nervously.

Granger laughed. “I have found the entire Haversham family to be largely annoying and contentious, and no one was worse than my father-in-law, so your words do not offend me.” Douglas laughed with him and began to relax.

“Captain Smythe did not treat Lieutenant Haversham as you are describing, my lord,” Douglas said, opening up to him. “He tended to issue orders directly to the officers individually, and largely left Haversham to handle keeping things organized.” That would explain much of the problems Douglas was having. Smythe had acted as his own first lieutenant and hadn’t trusted Haversham to act as his intermediary.

“Surely you have had other first lieutenants whom you admired? You can use them as a model.”

“I did, my lord, and thank you for helping me understand the situation,” Douglas said, and seemed almost elated. His mood changed slightly, a preface to his next question. “Do you have any advice on how to proceed?”

“As I said before, when you leave this cabin, you must recognize that your authority is second only to mine. When you are dealing with your officers, ask yourself if they are treating you the same way they treat me. If they are not, you must call them on it. Your first test will be with Captain Pitcairn when he returns,” Granger said.

“He was used to getting what he wanted from Captain Smythe, and had free rein to control his marines, my lord,” Douglas said a bit grumpily.

“Captain Pitcairn knows how things are supposed to function aboard a ship of war. He is merely taking advantage of the situation,” Granger said, hiding the anger he felt. “He will no doubt be your biggest challenge.”

“I am no longer afraid of that encounter, my lord,” he said confidently.

Granger smiled at him. “And I am no longer worried either. When you leave this cabin, remember that unless you do something that is counter to my orders, I will back you up. There are no devils lurking in the background. And I daresay that between us, we both have enough influence to overcome anything Captain Pitcairn or the other officers can throw at us in the way of political complications.”

“I would like to think so, my lord,” Douglas said. Granger stood up, and Douglas followed his lead. Granger extended his hands, which Douglas took, and there was a firmness in his grip that had not been there before.

“Part of your job is to keep me informed of what is happening on board, so I expect you to tell me how things evolve. I went ashore and enjoyed the baths and sauna here in town, and am of a mind to go back. I would like it if you would join me the day after tomorrow.” Granger had already invited Fitzgerald tomorrow, and he suspected that giving Douglas an extra day would help him make the transition, assuming he could do it.

“With pleasure, my lord,” he said. Granger nodded at him, which served as a dismissal, and with that he found himself alone in his cabin. He returned to his table, got out his correspondence, and began to read the other letters he’d received. He’d gotten letters from every cabinet member except St. Vincent, praising his achievements in Russia. The most glowing came from Lord Hawkesbury, which made it that much more meaningful. He even got a letter from the handsome Irish peer, Lord Castlereagh, even though he had left the government when Pitt resigned. But the oddest letter came from his aunt’s solicitor:

May 1801

Dear Lord Granger,

I am not sure if your lordship has yet received the sad news of the death of your aunt, Lady Kendal. Please accept my condolences. I am pleased to inform your lordship that her ladyship died peacefully in her sleep, passing on to heaven as peacefully as one could wish.

Her ladyship has left instructions with me on what is to happen to her ladyship’s estate. I have a letter that I must share with your lordship, and certain assurances that I must receive before I can begin transferring property and assets. While it is important that we meet as soon as possible, I understand that your service to His Majesty has taken you out of the country, and I have been instructed to maintain her ladyship’s estates just as they are, pending your return home.

While those arrangements will suffice for the present, I cannot stress to your lordship how important it is that your lordship contact me as soon as your lordship returns to England. I will gladly travel to meet your lordship wherever is convenient to resolve these matters quickly and effectively.

Your obedient servant,

Ebenezer Scruggs, Esq.

Granger reread the letter and decided that it was good news. As Caroline had noted, the only reason for Scruggs to delay settling Lady Kendal’s estate was if Granger was a beneficiary. She had probably wanted some assurance that Granger was not a virulent anti-Papist.

His thoughts were disturbed by loud voices, prompting Granger to get up and return to his gallery. He saw the boat returning to the ship, carrying Pitcairn, Daventry, and the ship’s doctor. Pitcairn rambled on loudly, while the doctor chuckled and Daventry looked annoyed. Thinking quickly, Granger hurried out of his cabin and, ignoring the surprised look on the face of the marine guarding his quarters, hurried up the ladder to the poop deck. He found Midshipman Anson up there, sitting on the taffrail, staring off at the town, seemingly deep in thought. Granger’s arrival startled him, and he immediately stood at attention. “I beg your pardon, my lord,” he said.

“You have done nothing to warrant any pardon on my part,” Granger said with a smile, forcing him to remain pleasant. “On the contrary. I would ask you to remain here with me and carefully witness what is to happen.”

“My lord?” Anson asked, but Granger ignored him. Douglas came up to the quarterdeck, as presumably he’d given orders to be called when Pitcairn returned. Granger and Anson watched from the shadows as first Daventry, then Pitcairn climbed through the entry port.

“Welcome back, my lord,” Douglas said affably to Daventry.

“Thank you, Mr. Douglas,” Daventry said, and made to hurry toward their cabin, and presumably his correspondence, when Douglas’s next comment stopped him cold.

“Captain Pitcairn, Lord Granger has directed that upon return to this ship you remove yourself to your quarters and remain there until ordered otherwise,” Douglas stated firmly. Anson looked at Granger and raised an eyebrow, which said a lot about how differently Douglas was acting.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Douglas,” Pitcairn said with a sneer. “Why am I being confined to my quarters?”

“You call me ‘sir’,” Douglas snapped, then continued. “You overrode his lordship’s instructions and denied leave to Calliope’s marines.”

“What nonsense is this,” Pitcairn yelled. “They are my marines, not his! I’ll not have them coddled like he does with the rest of the crew!”

“They are not your marines, Captain Pitcairn, and this is the last time I will overlook your disrespect,” Douglas said. He had evidently prepared for this and had a corporal along with two marines ready. “Corporal, you will escort Captain Pitcairn below and see that he remains in his quarters.”

“Belay that order!” Pitcairn bellowed, beside himself with anger. He got even angrier when the marines stepped forward to execute Douglas’s orders. “Lay one finger on me and I’ll break you!” he shouted at the marines.

Granger had watched the exchange, watched Douglas take control, and was proud of him, but Granger needed to step in. Pitcairn had threatened the marines when they were only following orders, and so it was time for him to intervene. He looked at a very-shocked Midshipman Anson, who felt his glance and looked at Granger. “You will go to your cabin and write down all that you can recall of this encounter, and submit it to me immediately,” Granger said

“Aye aye, my lord,” Anson said. He turned and all but ran down the stairs to the quarterdeck, with Granger following along at a much slower pace. Anson’s scurrying had attracted the attention of the people in his immediate vicinity, which they largely dismissed, but Granger’s subsequent arrival rippled through the entire quarterdeck and beyond, until everyone stood and stared at Granger.

“Captain Pitcairn, I am hereby placing you under arrest for gross insubordination,” Granger decreed. “I am ordering those of you who witnessed this encounter to immediately write down what happened, and to do so based on your own recollection.”

“My lord, that was hardly gross insubordination,” Pitcairn said smoothly, as if he could talk his way out of this. Granger ignored him.

“Corporal, your marines will escort Captain Pitcairn to his cabin so he can pack up his things,” Granger ordered. “When he is done, you will take him to the orlop and secure him in one of the bosun’s storage rooms.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” the corporal said, and the two marines pushed Pitcairn along. Granger saw the man turn and look at him, and almost expected a scene, but then he seemed to resign himself to his fate and shuffled along.

“Mr. Douglas, please see that a secure place is prepared on the orlop, and please make sure there is a steward assigned to him, and that person is the only one who is allowed contact with him,’ Granger said.

“Aye aye, my lord,” Douglas said. He was nervous now, because Granger had given him no sign of whether Granger thought he had handled that confrontation properly.

“Inform me when that has been accomplished,” Granger said, but smiled at Douglas and gave him slight wink to let him know he was not unhappy.

Granger strode back toward his cabin to find Daventry lounging nonchalantly against the bulkhead, smirking at him. “Sailing with you never ceases to be interesting,” he said. Granger ignored him, waited until they’d walked through the door and closed it before he burst out laughing.

“I daresay, we’ve found ourselves an interesting lot,” Granger said, then the laughing stopped. “Join me for a drink?”

“I have been ordered to prepare my statement immediately,” Daventry said. “I would not want to be locked up in a naval dungeon.”

“When you have finished your homework, we can attempt to decide how much richer I may be,” Granger teased, as he gestured toward the gallery.

Daventry raised an eyebrow. “Then I will attempt to be thorough but brief in my statement.” They both chuckled, then Daventry retrieved some of his stationery and sat at the table and began writing, while Granger joined him and read or re-read his letters.

Daventry paused, picked up his paper, scanned it and handed it to Granger, who read it quickly, then set it aside. Daventry had an excellent memory and had delineated the events perfectly. A naval court martial would hold the impartial words of a peer in high regard. “You have done a nice job on your homework. I would rate it a notch higher than nine out of ten.”

“Only a nine?” Daventry challenged.

“Your prose is not quite up to what I have come to expect from you,” Granger joked, pretending to be a firm schoolmaster.

“Hmph,” Daventry said. “And tell me of your new riches.”

“My aunt has died, and the estate cannot be settled until her solicitor consults with me,” Granger said.

“And which of your two rich, crazy, and reclusive aunts have expired?” Daventry asked irreverently, making Granger chuckle.

“Lady Kendal, God rest her soul,” Granger said solemnly.

“Is she the one with all of the animals? I have heard the stench from their urine and feces makes a visit to her house almost unbearable,” Daventry noted.

“No, that is Lady Gatwick, and perhaps that is how she maintains her distance from society,” Granger noted.

“That would be an effective deterrent,” Daventry noted. “So Lady Kendal is the one who is so frigid she could have been the whore I fucked tonight?”

“Having not experienced your whore, I cannot say if she is more or less frigid, but Lady Kendal was certainly imperious and unapproachable,” Granger noted.

“Then you will have to take my word for it,” Daventry said.

“I am sorry your nocturnal excursion was not more satisfying,” Granger said with fake sympathy.

“You should promote Fitzgerald for leaving,” Daventry said. “He has remarkably good judgment.” Granger laughed. “So how much did Lady Kendal leave you?”

“I am not sure,” Granger said. “She is devoted to her Catholic tenants, and Caroline had clearly vexed her, but the fact that the solicitor will not execute her estate without consulting me gives me some hope.”

“I would think that she must at least have left a third of it to you,” Daventry opined, although what he based that on was unclear.

“Then if rumors of her wealth are true, that would increase my income by £10,000 per year,” Granger said.

“Gads!” Daventry exclaimed, because it was a huge income. “I did not realize she was so rich!”

“When all one does is sit at home and abuse one’s servants, it is possible to accumulate scads of money,” Granger said, smiling.

“That’s more than you make now, isn’t it?” Daventry asked, probing.

“It is not,” Granger said, acting as if it were merely a drop in the bucket. “But it will boost our income to between £25,000 and £35,000 per year.”

“Well, when next we travel to Russia in the winter, I will not feel bad when you have to buy the vozok,” Daventry said, making Granger laugh. That was interrupted when a rap at the door was followed by Douglas’s entry into his cabin.

“I am sorry to bother you, my lords, but I just wanted to report that we have secured Captain Pitcairn, along with his possessions, in the orlop. He is being attended by a servant and guarded by two marines,” Douglas said.

“That was well done,” Granger said. “You handled that whole encounter very well. I think you will find the wardroom to be an entirely different place now.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Douglas said sincerely, and almost seemed a bit teary.

“It was my pleasure, Mr. Douglas. Tonight, you made me very proud of you,” Granger said. He stared at Douglas, who merely nodded then left.

“You are going to explain that?” Daventry asked. Granger gave him a brief recap of his conversations, which Daventry listened to attentively. “That was well done.”

“I was all but seething with rage at how ineffective Douglas was, then it dawned on me that I had not spent the time to help him acclimate to his new job,” Granger noted. “It was all relatively simple.”

“It was not,” Daventry said in annoyance at his self-deprecating friend. “Most captains would not have taken the time to groom their officers like that, I daresay.”

“Evidently I am not like most captains,” Granger said, almost seeing that as a rebuke.

“Evidently,” Daventry said, with almost an admiring posture.

“I will let you read your correspondence, then I will share the rest of my communiques with you,” Granger noted. He stood up and went back onto the quarterdeck, where all was peaceful. He found Anson serving as officer of the watch, since a lieutenant was not required to perform that duty in port. The young man seemed to be distant, and a bit troubled. “Good evening, Mr. Anson.”

“Good evening, my lord,” he said. He took out a folded paper and handed it to Granger. “My report, my lord.”

Granger took it and put it in his breast pocket. “Thank you, Mr. Anson. Walk with me.”

“With pleasure, my lord,” the young man said, and fell in step as they paced the quarterdeck.

“You seem to be troubled by something,” Granger said. When they made their turn, he could see Anson’s terrified expression.

“No, my lord, I’m fine,” he said hastily.

“I want you to know that if you have problems, you can come to me, and I will attempt to help you,” Granger said, and put his hand briefly on Anson’s shoulder. It was as if he sent shockwaves through the young man with that gesture.

“Thank you, my lord,” Anson said a bit dismissively, because it was obvious that he really didn’t want to talk about his problems.

“I will also give you my pledge, my word of honor, that what you tell me I will reveal to no one,” Granger said. That caused Anson to look at him, amazed.

“Even if it is positively evil, my lord?” he asked, being a bit cheeky.

“One can hope it is positively evil, as those are always the most interesting conversations,” Granger said playfully. “Unless it is treasonous, I will keep your confidence.”

“Thank you, my lord,” he said sincerely, but he said no more, so Granger released him to his duties and continued to pace on his own for the better part of an hour. When the ship’s bell rang, he returned to his cabin to find Daventry staring at letters spread out across the table.

“I see you have been reading,” Granger said, noting the disarray of Daventry’s correspondence.

“Indeed I have,” Daventry said. “A most interesting story.”

“And what was the gist of these letters?” Granger asked.

“Mr. Addington is most pleased with our performance, but he and the other cabinet members have decided that success was mostly my doing,” Daventry said.

“That is what my letters indicated as well,” Granger said.

“That’s dashed unfair to you, George,” Daventry said. “You played a huge role in making that coup possible, and the mending of our relationship with Russia afterward was entirely due to you.”

“We are a team,” Granger asserted. “I am not jealous if the credit goes to you, because I know we accomplished this together. There will be times in the future, or may have been times in the past, where I will get the most credit. I would hope that you would not feel envy when that happens.”

Daventry scowled at him. “I agree with you, and I would not, but it bothers me.”

“If it does not bother me, why should it bother you?” Granger asked, then adopted a flippant tone. “Besides, I already have more than enough fame.”

“And riches, pending the outcome of Lady Kendal’s probate process,” Daventry noted. Granger opted to change the subject.

“Spencer went to see St. Vincent and told him that I was following orders,” Granger said.

“I heard that he had promoted Mr. Weston,” Daventry noted.

“He did, and found employment for Grenfell and Lord Kingsdale as well,” Granger said.

“It would seem that he has forgiven your transgressions, such that they were even transgressions to begin with,” Daventry noted.

“I can hope, but with St. Vincent, one can never quite be sure,” Granger said.

Copyright © 2017 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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As for Douglas, he failed to expect respect and worse yet, when it was denied, he failed to demand it. Expecting everyone to do his or her job is "common sense" and yet assuming either of those conditions can have catastrophic results. 

As if the drama with Douglas was not enough of a beginning... We now have secrets to be shared with the new Captain. My two cents is betting it is a sexual situation that is troubling the young man.

Life at sea is "hours of tedious boredom interspersed with moments of stark terror".  With Mark, the terror is often mitigated to political intrigue but his writing is seldom boring. 😉

behind two more chapters so I need to log in sooner and read faster.

the other side of that coin is for Mark to; please write faster, post sooner.

Jim

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