HMS Valiant - 16. Chapter 16

October 16, 1799

HMS Valiant

Near Cape Finisterre

Granger stood on his quarterdeck, looking at his ship. He was pleased with her crew and her condition, but he was most definitely not pleased with her passengers. Each of them had their strengths and weaknesses, but a common flaw in all of them was their inability to grasp that just because he was on deck, did not mean that he wanted to converse with them.

Granger cringed internally as one of the more annoying passengers climbed up the ladder from the waist. Professor Joseph Carlyle had been the chair in Arabic at Cambridge. He was one of the older members of Elgin’s entourage, which was mostly younger: He was 39 years old. He had a number of publications under his belt, and when asked why he was joining Lord Elgin, he would usually begin a lengthy tirade on the need to convert the Arabic world to Christianity. Granger had appreciated his willingness to spend time with the midshipmen and certain of the ship’s boys to further their education.

“My lord,” Carlyle said cheerfully, breaking in on Granger’s thoughts. “I have been laboring on my latest effort, and would love to share it with you.” And this was his most annoying trait. He fancied himself as a poet, a man of words, yet the verses he concocted were horrible.

“And I would love to hear it, Professor, but I fear I am attending to the ship. Perhaps you can share it with Reverend Hunt?”

“I will do that, my lord,” Carlyle said, and reversed course to go down and plague Hunt. And that did nothing but make Granger smile internally, for if Carlyle was one of the more annoying passengers, the honor of most annoying went to the Reverend Hunt. Like Carlyle, Hunt had a few things to commend him. He was good at Greek, and quite the archaeologist, so that had further enhanced the education Granger provided to his midshipmen. He had also willingly agreed to perform Sunday religious services, and had done so in a relatively benign and blessedly short manner. But that was more than offset by his constant whining and complaining. He didn’t like his cabin, he didn’t like the food, he thought the water tasted awful, and he didn’t like rum. If there was something on Valiant, Hunt would, as a general rule, complain about it.

Lady Elgin burst out of her cabin dramatically, clutching her hand to her stomach. “Pass the word for my doctor! I am ailing!” Granger revised his evaluation of passengers and decided that Hunt was not the worst, Lady Elgin was. “I do not think I will live another day!”

“Pass the word for Dr. McLean,” Granger said, trying not to growl. McLean was the ‘esteemed’ physician Elgin had brought with them. The man spent most of his time in his quarters, drunk to a degree that was just shy of a stupor. His biggest challenges were dealing with Lady Elgin’s seasickness, and Lord Elgin’s rheumatism and colds. He was failing miserably at all of them, but with an arrogance typical of his breed of doctor, he refused to allow Dr. Jackson to assist him. One would have thought that Lady Elgin, who complained constantly about how sick she was, would have intervened and demanded to see Jackson, but she had refused, placing her confidence in McLean, who had yet to ease her discomfort.

“We really must stop,” she said to Granger emphatically. “This voyage will be the death of me.”

“I am sorry you are suffering ill humors,” Granger said sympathetically. “I will endeavor to get you to a port as soon as I possibly can.”

“Surely there is a port close to us,” she said.

“The closest friendly harbor is Lisbon,” Granger said. “That is where I am currently heading.”

“And when will we arrive?” she demanded.

“I would expect we will be there within the next two or three days,” Granger said.

“I will try to make it until then,” she said, then exited back into her cabin as if she were an actress on the stage. Granger was a patient man, and a polite one, but he had never encountered someone like Lady Elgin, who seemed able to irritate him enough to make him insensitive to her plight. He had managed to restrain himself so far, but he wondered if he would survive the voyage without being boorishly rude to her.

Clifton had the watch, and gave Granger a sympathetic look, one that irritated him enough to make him ruin Clifton’s day. “It would please me if you would join us for dinner,” Granger said to him.

“Of course, sir,” Clifton said, just managing to hide his reluctance. Dining with Granger used to be one of the highlights of their voyages, but not with the Elgins as company. Satisfied that he had adequately punished Clifton for his unwanted sympathy, Granger began to pace the deck. He found that his passengers did not seem to know how or if they should interrupt someone who was pacing, so that was a good way to avoid them. Granger smiled to himself as he thought about how much more exercise he and his officers were getting as a result.

Just because the passengers wouldn’t interrupt him didn’t mean his own officers wouldn’t, but the man who began pacing next to Granger was, unlike Lady Elgin, a most welcome companion. “I hope you don’t mind me joining you, my lord,” Treadway said.

“I do not mind at all,” Granger said. “Some of my best times are when I am joined to you.”

“I would readily agree, my lord. I am wondering if you have time to practice our music this evening.”

Granger smiled. That was the excuse they used when Treadway would spend time with Granger. They would fuck, then play some music, then fuck again. When Granger was around Treadway, he found that he was insatiable, and the handsome marine was no less ardent. In addition to the amazing sex, and the enjoyment of playing music, there was the added satisfaction of knowing how much their music would annoy Lady Elgin. “I would love to,” Granger said.

“My lord,” Winkler said, interrupting him. “Dinner is ready.”

“Thank you, Winkler,” Granger said cordially, then spoke to Treadway. “I did not invite you, in order to spare you the company.”

Treadway chuckled. “I am not sure it is much better in the wardroom. Is listening to Reverend Hunt complain, and Professor Carlyle’s inane poetry more disturbing than a dinner with Lady Elgin?” Granger laughed with Treadway. It was rare for him to be so open with someone; he had only done that with men he had deep feelings for, and with Somers.

“A devilish choice,” Granger said, and then took his leave of Treadway. “Mr. Clifton, please select someone to relieve you, then join me aft.”

“Aye aye sir,” Clifton said. He summoned Eastwyck, who was his junior, then joined Granger at his table.

“Good afternoon, Granger,” Elgin said. He was sometimes whiny, what with his colds and aches, but he was also interesting, and generally good company. Granger fancied that if Elgin had come alone, Granger would probably enjoy this trek.

“Good afternoon,” Granger responded. They sat down and looked at the food Lefavre had prepared. Granger recognized the dish; beef with a delicious cream sauce. It was one of his favorites. The four of them helped themselves to the food, and then applied themselves to eating.

“I am not sure that my stomach can handle such rich food,” Lady Elgin complained. “Cannot your chef cook something without such fancy sauces?”

“The sauces Your Ladyship refers to add variety to our meals, and raise them from being merely mediocre to being truly excellent,” Granger said, defending Lefavre.

“Well I think they are simply wasted garnish,” she said.

“You will forgive me if I disagree with you, and I do so based on the feedback I have received from others,” Granger said.

“And who are these other esteemed food critics?” she demanded.

“Lord St. Vincent and Sir Horatio Nelson are both fond enough of Lefavre’s cooking that they have tried to steal him away from me,” Granger said. The mention of Nelson’s name irritated her, because she was disgusted with Nelson’s affair with Lady Hamilton, and she was of the set that enjoyed lording their own puritan perfection over other people. “And if that is not a sufficient endorsement, His Majesty has eaten this same dish and sent compliments back to Lefavre.”

She gave Granger an icy look, since he had neatly closed down her criticism of Lefavre. Instead, she turned her attention to her husband. “I cannot understand why we are even going to Constantinople.”

“My dear, as I have told you, we have a unique opportunity to build ties with the Ottomans. Pulling them into the war with France could be the key to victory,” he said optimistically. Lady Elgin liked to have the same argument repeatedly. At first it had been embarrassing to see her berate her husband, but now it was simply annoying.

“The Ottomans? The key to victory?” Lady Elgin asked sarcastically. “They are a barbarous people, and it is a barbarous country.”

“I think you will find Constantinople to be beautiful. The location, on the Bosporus, lends itself to some picturesque views,” Elgin said soothingly. “And the structures are truly marvelous. The Hagia Sophia is one of the oldest and largest Christian churches, while the Blue Mosque is quite beautiful. And I am sure we will be allowed to visit Topkapi Palace.”

“Bah,” she said dismissively. “The city will be infested with the plague, and filled with harems and hashish dens.”

“Harems?” Clifton asked, trying to be pleasant. “I will have to beg Your Lordship for shore leave.”

Lady Elgin gave Clifton a withering look. “You would be well-advised to steer clear of such places of sin and iniquity. I will send Reverend Hunt to explain the risks you run.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Clifton said, beating a hasty retreat. “Your Ladyship’s admonishments have been enough to caution me.”

She ignored Clifton, and focused on her husband. “I think it is nothing short of insane that you have taken up this embassy, Thomas. You are doing it only for your own vanity. It makes no sense at all.”

To be so publicly denounced by his wife had finally irritated Elgin, who was usually only annoyed when his health bothered him, or someone asked him to open his purse. “The decision has been made, and we are on our way, so these recriminations you continually offer are pointless and insulting.”

“Pointless and insulting? Let us see you spend the better part of your day, stuck in a cabin no bigger than a rabbit warren, vomiting your insides out,” she snapped.

“I hardly think that is acceptable dinner conversation,” Granger said, saving Elgin from his wife, and reminding Lady Elgin that her manners were inadequate for the aristocratic company she was in. That bothered her so much, it shut her up, and the rest of dinner was pleasant as a result.

Just as they were finishing up the pudding Lefavre had crafted, Granger heard that unmistakable cry from the masthead: “Sail ho!”

“We have sighted another craft?” Lady Elgin asked. “What if it is a large French or Spanish vessel? I will never forgive you, Thomas, if I am taken into captivity.”

“Any ship that we sight will either be smaller than us, or slower than us,” Granger said calmly. “And were we to be captured, as we are so close to Spain that is where we would most likely be taken. Should such a horrible event befall us, the Spanish would no doubt immediately release you.” Granger suspected that if they spent any meaningful time with her, they would send her to Lisbon or Gibraltar on the fastest coach available.

A knock at the door heralded the arrival of Mr. Molyneux. “My lord, we have sighted a sail to the southeast.”

“Thank you,” Granger said, and then spoke to the Elgins. “If you will excuse us, duty calls.” He had included Clifton in that comment to spare the young man from further torture.

“That is quite alright, Granger,” Elgin said.

Granger and Clifton strode onto the quarterdeck. “What do we have?”

“We’re not sure, my lord,” Weston said. The cry from the masthead must have brought him on deck, since it wasn’t his watch. “It looks to be a ship, and a relatively large one.”

“Alter course to intercept,” Granger said. “Shake out the topgallants!”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Weston said. Even as the men rushed to increase Valiant’s sails, Granger was beginning his climb up the mainmast. He arrived at the platform, and the lookout gestured toward the sail. Granger eyed it with his glass, but it was too far away to get an adequate picture. He secured his telescope and climbed up to the crosstrees, where the topsail yards were, and looked again. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the extra height, or because they were gaining on the ship, but the view was much better. And what Granger saw were two frigates, both of them Spanish. “My lord, there’s another sail off to the starboard.”

Granger pivoted his glass and saw the other ship, evidently chasing the Spaniards. It was a British frigate. “Mr. Weston,” Granger called from the tops. “Alter course two points to larboard.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Weston called back.

“Keep an eye on those ships,” Granger said to the lookout. Granger didn’t hear the man’s response. He had already grabbed a backstay, and had gracefully descended back to the deck.

“Gads, Granger,” Elgin said, he and his wife having joined the others on deck. “I can’t imagine doing something so acrobatic.”

“Thank you,” Granger said, and then turned to speak to Winkler. “Please lay out my best uniform. I will change shortly.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said.

Granger turned his attention to Weston, but included the other officers who were gathered near them. “We have sighted two Spanish frigates. It appears that there is a British frigate pursuing them.”

“Those are good odds, my lord,” Weston said, being cocky.

“They are indeed,” Granger said. “We will wait till we are closer to clear for action.” Their passengers would certainly not appreciate being rousted out of their cabins.

“Deck there, two Spanish frigates off the larboard bow,” the lookout called, confirming Granger’s sighting. He was stationed in the main top, so that meant they were considerably closer.

“You can’t mean to fight a battle,” Lady Elgin objected. “Surely you can avoid these other ships.”

“This is a warship, and our duty is to assist that other British frigate that is chasing the Dons,” Granger said firmly.

“Thomas, I did not come on this trip with you to fight sea battles,” she said, trying to bring Elgin into her argument.

“We are passengers, my dear. We must do as Lord Granger directs,” Elgin said to his wife.

Granger had intended to hold off on preparing for battle, but Lady Elgin had so vexed him, he still did it a bit sooner than was necessary. “Clear for action. Beat to quarters.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Weston said. In no time at all, the drums began pounding out “Hearts of Oak”, and the entire ship was convulsed in chaos as cabins were broken down and personal belongings were dragged below.

“Winkler, please show Her Ladyship down to the orlop,” Granger ordered. It was much earlier than she needed to withdraw for her safety, but Granger had no desire to put up with her on deck. “Reverend Hunt and Professor Carlyle can keep her company.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Winkler said. “My lady, if you’ll follow me, I will lead you below, where you will be safe.” She glared at Granger, and then flounced off, trailing after Winkler.

“Perhaps I can be of some use,” Elgin said. Granger smiled when he saw the look in Elgin’s eyes, the look of a warrior.

“I suspect you can,” Granger said, smiling at him briefly. “If you will excuse me, I must dress up for our battle.” Elgin smiled at his humor, and Granger went aft, where Winkler was waiting to help him put on his dress uniform.

Once he was fully dressed, he paused to look in the mirror. He looked quite exalted, with an epaulette on each shoulder, the ribbon and star from his knighthood, along with his gold medals for the Battle of St. Vincent and the Battle of the Nile. The Nile medal was a bit larger, since Granger had served as Captain of the Fleet, and that made him the equivalent of a junior flag officer. He had gotten a bigger medal, but less prize money. Granger hadn’t kept the prize money from the Battle of the Nile anyway. He’d instructed his agent that his share should go to Nelson. Granger had made enough money on prizes already, and he had felt honored to be able to participate in the battle. His share as Captain of the Fleet came directly from Nelson’s share, and Granger felt that Nelson deserved all of it. “You’ll make a nice target, my lord,” Winkler said dourly. He didn’t understand why Granger went into battle in full dress, when it just made the enemy gunners and musketeers aim at him. He didn’t understand that dressing in an inconspicuous uniform smacked of cowardice, and was dishonorable.

“We will see if they are good shots,” Granger said, then went back out to the quarterdeck.

“Sir, the frigate chasing the Dons is showing her number. It’s the Ethalion, 38 guns, Captain Young,” Kingsdale said. Granger was senior to Young, so as this battle evolved, he would be in charge. This would be the first action where he had the responsibility for directing the fight.

“Make our number,” Granger ordered. Flags flew up Valiant’s main mast.

“She’s acknowledged, sir,” Kingsdale said. “Ethalion to Valiant, take station to windward.”

That truly irritated Granger. He was clearly Young’s senior, and Young knew that. Did he think that simply because he had sighted the Dons first, that he was in command? Surely he wasn’t that naïve. “Do not acknowledge. Instead, make Valiant to Ethalion: general chase.”

“Aye aye sir,” Kingsdale said, and hoisted the flags. That would give Young the flexibility to pursue the Dons as he saw fit, and give him the freedom to maneuver his ship to the best of her abilities. “Ethalion has acknowledged.”

“Deck there! The Dons are changing course, to southeast,” the lookout shouted. They’d been going almost due east before that. “They’re tacking on sail.”

It was a nice day, with moderate seas, which was unfortunate, because if the seas were heavier, Valiant would have a speed advantage on the Spaniards. As it was, she was just keeping up. “Let’s get the royals on her,” Granger ordered.

“Aye aye, my lord,” Weston said dubiously. That would be straining Valiant’s spars to the maximum level, but Granger needed speed if he was to catch those Dons. Granger looked over at Ethalion. She was a beautiful ship. She reminded Granger of Bacchante, his prior command, but Bacchante had been even prettier, with her clean lines and her French design. Their Spanish opponents were smaller, at 34 guns each. The odds were stacked in his favor, Granger thought.

“Gentlemen, please plot our position,” Granger said to Weston, Meurice and Eastwyck. They did, pulling out their sextants. Granger compared his own readings to those of the others. “You have the deck, Mr. Eastwyck. Mr. Weston, you and Mr. Meurice are with me.” He didn’t even wait for them to acknowledge, as he strode into his chartroom.

Meurice plotted their position on the chart, and they estimated the position of the Dons. “It will be dark within three hours, my lord,” Weston said glumly.

“That will not matter this time,” Granger said, surprising them.

“My lord?” Weston asked.

“Those ships are heading to a port, and they will be scared now, so they will head to the nearest one. They will head to Vigo,” Granger said, pointing at the port on his chart.

“They’re taking a southerly route, my lord. Might they not try for Cadiz?” Meurice asked.

“No,” Granger said confidently, even though he wasn’t quite as confident inside. “Cadiz is significantly farther away, and to enter it, they would have to avoid the fleet blockading it.”

“Then why are the Dons traveling southeast, my lord?” Weston asked.

“To keep their distance from us and to lead us off their track. When night comes, they will alter course and work their way back north, so they can enter Vigo.” Spanish captains were known for sailing along the same latitude as the port they were attempting to reach, presumably so they didn’t sail right past it, Granger thought with a chuckle.

Granger went back onto the deck, and saw that Ethalion was much closer now. Chasing the Spanish had converged their courses. “Mr. Kingsdale, signal Captain Young to repair on board. Mr. Weston, take in the royals and topgallants, so we can slow enough to let Captain Young’s boat transit to us.”

“Ethalion has acknowledged, sir,” Kingsdale said.

“Winkler, we’ll be entertaining. I’ll need a decanter and some glasses.”

“Aye aye, my lord.”

Granger watched approvingly as Ethalion surged ahead of Valiant to lower her boat, and then allowed it to drift down to Valiant. Ethalion then took station astern of Valiant, so when Captain Young returned to his ship, they could repeat the maneuver, and simply drift back to their own ship.

Granger stood rigidly on his quarterdeck as Young came aboard and saluted, and then he stepped forward to greet him. “Welcome aboard, Captain.” Granger knew Young when they both served together in the Mediterranean. He was in his mid-thirties, and a bit stodgy and formal.

“It is good to see you again, my lord.”

“I am sorry to compel you to dampen your uniform in a boat, but I wanted to share my plans with you for the capture of those two frigates.”

“Of course, my lord,” he said respectfully. Granger led him into the chartroom, and explained his theory that the Spanish would head to Vigo. “What if they sail to Cadiz, or into the Mediterranean?” Young asked.

“That is unlikely. They would most likely run into our squadrons if they attempted either course of action, and they would have a significantly longer voyage. They will be anxious to make port, and they will be nervous because we are here.”

Young looked at the chart for a few moments, pondering Granger’s words. “I see the wisdom of your conclusions, begging your pardon, my lord.”

“Excellent!” Granger said. “As soon as the sun sets, I plan to alter course to head directly to Vigo.”

“So the Dons, in trying to throw us off, will find they have some distance to recover, my lord,” Young said, grinning.

“Exactly,” Granger said. “I wanted to make sure we were of a like mind, in case we are separated. As Ethalion is faster than Valiant, it may be possible for you to gain more distance at night than we can.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Young said, the relief evident in his voice. Granger had given Young the freedom to sail at his best speed, without worrying about keeping position on Valiant. Many captains adhered rigidly to the Fighting Instructions, outdated guidelines on how naval battles should be fought. If Granger were such an officer, he would have demanded that Ethalion remain on station with Valiant, so they could attack together. Such a course of action could also slow Ethalion down enough that they would not be able to catch the Spaniards at all.

“I would ask that you keep two lights in your mizzen, and one in your foremast, so we can avoid a collision. We will do the same.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Young said.

“Then I will let you return to your ship. I am sorry I could not offer you something to eat. With the galley fire out, we are somewhat restricted.”

“I understand, my lord,” Young said. Then he took his leave, and Granger saw him over the side into his boat.

“Mr. Weston, we will stay at quarters tonight, but you may relight the galley fire.”

“Aye aye, my lord.”

“Winkler, you may release Lady Elgin and her staff for the time being,” Granger said. He tried not to sound too reluctant.

“Aye aye, my lord.”

The result of his action was heard a few minutes later. “That was horrid, absolutely horrid!” Lady Elgin said to her husband. “The smells were so noxious; I was near fainting the entire time!”

“That is the safest place for you in the event of a battle,” Elgin said to his wife.

“Well that’s why we shouldn’t be battling in the first place,” she said, directing that comment to Granger.

“I think that if we asked His Majesty if he would prefer that we defeat two Spanish frigates at the cost of inflicting some unpleasant fumes upon Your Ladyship, he would order us to engage the frigates,” Granger said to her evenly. “Fortunately, you will not have to go back down there until we are ready to engage the Spaniards. In the meantime, we will set up a cot for you aft.”

“I will have no privacy!”

“That is how the ship is altered when she is cleared for action, and we will remain cleared for action,” Granger said. “We could stumble upon those two Spanish frigates in the middle of the night, so it is important that we are ready for any contingency.”

“Thank you for being so accommodating toward my wife,” Elgin said to Granger, and did so in a tone that told everyone his wife was quite close to vexing him.

“I will do my best to make this trip as comfortable as possible, keeping in mind the obligations I have and the weather we may encounter,” Granger replied. Lady Elgin glared at both of them, and then went aft to retire in her cot.

October 17, 1799

HMS Valiant

Near Cape Finisterre

“An hour until dawn, my lord,” Winkler said, nudging Granger awake. He’d been sleeping in a chair on the quarterdeck, and was quite stiff as a result.

“Thank you, Winkler. Mr. Weston, let’s get the hands fed and then douse the galley fire.”

“Aye aye my lord,” Weston said. Granger, Weston, and the other officers and men on the quarterdeck ate their breakfasts standing up. It was an unpleasant way to dine. “Dawn in fifteen minutes, my lord.”

“Very well,” Granger said. “Douse the galley fire. Winkler, please inform Her Ladyship that she must go below again.”

“Aye aye my lord,” Winkler said apprehensively.

“Sail ho!” shouted the lookout, as the sun peeked over the horizon. “It’s the Dons, dead ahead.”

Granger took his glass and trained it forward, examining the Spanish ships. He could see their names emblazoned across their sterns: the Thetis and the Santa Brigada. They were almost within range, but they would have some work to do to close with the Spaniards. Ethalion, on the other hand, was much closer. “They’re just where you’d said they’d be, my lord,” Weston said.

Before Granger could respond, Lady Elgin came out. “I will not go below, back to the noxious cesspool.”

“Deck there, sails to the north, and to the northeast!”

“You cannot make me go,” she continued.

“I must get a clear understanding of what we are facing, and I do not have time to argue with you and your continued interruptions as I command my ship. You must go below on your own, or I will have you carried there,” Granger said. “Lord Elgin, it is imperative that you command your wife to tend to her own safety.”

“You cannot…” Lady Elgin began, planning to argue with Granger some more.

“Go below,” Elgin said to her firmly. She stared at him, surprised at first, then seriously annoyed. That was probably one of the few times Elgin had ever been so blunt when speaking to her. She turned on her heel in a haughty way, and went down to the orlop.

“Deck there, the two frigates to the north are British!”

“My lord,” Weston said, gesturing at the Spaniards. “They’re splitting up.”

“Thetis is sailing south,” Granger mused to himself. “Signal Ethalion to attack the Thetis.”

“Aye aye sir,” Kingsdale said. It took almost no time to acknowledge; Young was that excited to get to grips with her.

Valiant sailed on, as if oblivious to the battle her consort was about to fight. She was slowly gaining on Santa Brigada, very slowly. “Sir, the other ships to the north are showing their numbers. Alcmene, 32 guns, Captain Digby, and Triton, 32 guns, Captain Gore.”

HMS Triton

“Make our number,” Granger ordered. “Then signal: general chase.”

“Aye aye sir,” Kingsdale acknowledged. Kingsdale made the signal, and then waited for a reply. “My lord, Alcmene and Triton have acknowledged.”

“Excellent,” Granger said. “Now make: engage the enemy more closely.”

Both ships acknowledged that signal. Granger took his glass and studied the Santa Brigada, and felt his pulse racing. “Gentlemen, we must take that ship.”

“Begging your pardon, my lord, but why?” Weston asked.

“Do you remember meeting Colonel Avila?” Granger asked. He saw Weston’s mind whirling, then he smiled.

“Wasn’t he the man who came aboard in Panama, my lord?”

“He was indeed. And he was also the man who was aboard the Spanish frigate I saved near Tenerife. When Colonel Avila is present, he is usually guarding His Most Catholic Majesty’s gold and silver. And Colonel Avila is on that ship.”