HMS Valiant - 8. Chapter 8

August 18, 1799

HMS Valiant, The English Channel

“Good morning, sir,” Granger said cheerfully as he joined St. Vincent at his table for breakfast.

“So you say,” St. Vincent grumbled. He felt a lot of sympathy toward this crusty old admiral, who was on his way home and would lower his flag, probably for the last time. He was so frail and sickly, it was hard to see him ever going to sea again. Granger had hoped that the energy he’d shown during the action with the Spanish ships would have transformed him, but he had sadly lapsed back into his previous frail state.

“We should arrive at Spithead today, sir.”

“Well, at least you’ll be rid of me. Have your cabin back, along with your fancy stove.”

“I do appreciate the space, but I will miss you, sir,” Granger said. St. Vincent gave him a dour look, but Granger knew his moods well enough not to be afraid of this one.

Doctor Baird and Captain Grey chose that moment to come in and join them. “My lord,” Baird said to St. Vincent nervously, which meant he was probably planning to broach an unpleasant topic. “I am worried that you are not well enough to travel to Rochetts.” St. Vincent’s home, Rochetts, was in Essex, and was actually adjacent to Brentwood. Granger cringed when he realized that if St. Vincent retired there, when Granger was at Brentwood, he’d be St. Vincent’s next door neighbor.

“I am going home, Baird. I have survived thus far, so I think I will survive a bit longer,” St. Vincent said.

“Sir, perhaps you would like to rest ashore for a few days prior to your journey?” Granger asked. “I have a home located in Cowes. It has a dock, so it would be convenient to disembark. You could recuperate there.”

“I appreciate the offer, Granger, but I have imposed upon your hospitality enough as it is,” St. Vincent said, in a kindly way that had been all too rare lately.

“Sir, I must protest that this burden you allude to is in fact an honor,” Granger said. He turned to Baird. “I have had baths installed in this home.”

“I have heard of these contraptions you’ve devised, my lord,” Baird said with disdain.

“I was thinking that perhaps the hot water would be therapeutic for His Lordship,” Granger offered. “Of course I will leave it to you to render a decision, but the baths will be there, at your disposal.”

“I appreciate that, my lord. I will investigate them when we arrive,” Baird said. St. Vincent looked at Baird, then at Granger, then shook his head, since he’d been unwittingly maneuvered into staying at Granger’s estate at Cowes. It was unusual for St. Vincent to find himself tricked into a course of action that was not of his doing. Granger decided that it would be best to leave the table since he’d won that particular battle.

“If you gentlemen will excuse me, I am going to ensure we don’t run afoul of the Royal Sovereign,” Granger said.

“You don’t have confidence in your first lieutenant?” St. Vincent challenged.

“Sir, I have the utmost confidence in Mr. Weston. Unfortunately, the officers aboard Royal Sovereign are unknown to me,” Granger said with a smile. St. Vincent allowed himself a slight grin.

Granger walked out onto the deck to find Valiant passing by St. Helens. The seas were calm and the wind light, much as it had been when they left. Granger was more confident now, and anxious to get to his anchorage, so he left the courses and topsails on her.

“Major Treadway, I think it would be appropriate for our band to play as we return to port.”

“Of course, my lord,” he said. By the time Valiant was entering Spithead, her band was formed up and belting out songs.

“The whole fleet will think you are anxious to be rid of me,” St. Vincent said, surprising Granger. He had an unpleasant way of showing up on deck without being noticed. He was in full dress, and as resplendent as he’d been during their battle. “You’re heading for the anchorage at damn near full sail. And celebrating with a veritable concert.”

“I would submit, sir, that they would already know that, having seen your flag flying,” Granger said, teasing him.

“Damn good thing you’re a peer. Makes it a lot harder to hang you,” he said, making Granger smile.

“Mr. Weston, take us down to just topsails. Mr. Meurice, I will trust you to discern our anchorage.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” they chimed. And so Valiant slowed her pace as she approached her anchorage, passing the Channel Fleet, lowering and raising her ensign as she did. Granger smiled as he saw St. Vincent and Bridport doff their hats as Valiant passed the Royal Sovereign; two veteran warriors, saluting each other.

Granger watched carefully as they approached Cowes, pausing to look out at his home. They had started the fountains, presumably to welcome him back, and it was a very friendly gesture. “That is your home?” St. Vincent asked.

“It is, sir,” Granger said.

“It is almost as fancy as your cabin,” he said, making Granger smile.

But then Granger detached himself a bit to focus on his ship, watching as Meurice gauged their time and distance. “Let go!” Meurice ordered.

Granger heard the splash of Valiant’s anchor as it plunged into the waters of Spithead. Men hurried up the yards to take in the sails, while the band still kept on playing. “I’ll have the launch and my gig swayed out!”

“Aye aye my lord,” Weston said, and found men to handle that task as well.

There was considerable commotion as those evolutions were handled, and then with the launch aside, and the bosun’s chair rigged, St. Vincent approached Granger. “Captain, I would be obliged if you would lower my flag.” St. Vincent was stoic, with a face that could be carved from stone, but this was such a momentous event, even he could not hide the sadness in his voice.

“Aye aye sir,” Granger said. He nodded to Weston, and the band ceased to play. Instead, the pipes twittered, and the drums beat out, summoning all hands. He had worked this program out with Treadway and Weston two nights ago, to try and make this event special for the old admiral. The men and marines assembled, at attention. “Mr. Kingsdale, please lower His Lordship’s flag.”

“Aye aye sir,” Kingsdale said. And as he slowly began to lower the flag, the band began to play Auld Lang Syne. The crew stood silently and respectfully at attention, as the flag slowly descended to the deck. Kingsdale detached it, and his party of seamen folded it neatly.

“Sir, your flag,” Kingsdale said, handing it to St. Vincent.

“Thank you,” St. Vincent said, and handed it off to his secretary.

Then as the admiral made his way to the bosun’s chair, the crew of Valiant began cheering for this admiral that many of them had served under, and all of them respected.

“You should teach your men some discipline, and keep them under control,” St. Vincent growled.

“I think, sir, that they would risk the lash, to a man, if it meant paying tribute to you.” St. Vincent grinned slightly and doffed his hat, then he was hoisted over the side and into the launch.

Granger went down as St. Vincent was being hoisted aboard, to ensure he arrived in the launch first, as was naval custom. Once they had secured the admiral, they rowed him the short way to the docks. They disembarked in reverse order, with a delegation of men carrying St. Vincent in a sedan chair the carpenter had crafted over the past two days.

“You’ve managed to craft a carriage of sorts for me, Granger,” St. Vincent said.

“It is well sprung, sir,” Granger noted, and saw the men grin at his joke.

Granger was strolling along next to the lower basin, paying such attention to St. Vincent’s progress, and to the fountains beyond him, that he had not looked ahead of him. As he neared the house, he averted his gaze straight ahead, and found Caroline standing there, smiling at him. “George! You’re home! How wonderful!”

Granger took her hands in his, and beamed down at his lovely wife. He was about to enjoy their reunion, when he remembered his duty, and his manners. “It is good to see you as well, my dear,” he said. “His Lordship has agreed to be our guest here for as long as is required to recover before his journey to Rochetts.”

“How wonderful to see you again,” Caroline said to St. Vincent, curtseying. “We are so honored to have you staying with us.”

“Had I known I would be able to enjoy your charming company, I would not have argued so much about coming ashore,” St. Vincent said. They ushered St. Vincent and Grey into the house and the staff found them rooms, and helped them get settled in. And finally, after they had tended to their guests, Granger was able to be alone with his wife.

They went into the bedroom and then Caroline was in his arms, her lips on his, and then they shed only the necessary garments to allow them to couple. It was a fast, yet satisfying, bonding. “I do so look forward to when you are home,” Caroline flirted, making Granger blush.

“I am confident you do not look forward to it as much as I do,” Granger said. “I am so glad you are here, yet surprised as well. I would have thought you’d be back in London.”

“We are due to leave next week. It has been dreadfully hot in London and at Brentwood, so we opted to stay here, where it is beautiful, and the breezes keep us cool.”

“Then this house is even more special, because it has kept you here,” he said.

“Come, I will regale you with all the court gossip,” Caroline said.

“First I must see the children,” Granger insisted. They went to the nursery, and found the children preoccupied with lessons.

“Father!” William said, and raced to give this mysterious man a hug. Granger smiled at what a nice young gentleman he was becoming. He was almost six years old now, and had been breeched, so he looked quite adorable in his gentleman’s clothes. Charlotte and Alexander followed along after their older brother, while a nurse carried Elizabeth. Granger allowed himself to spend half an hour with them before descending downstairs to attend to his guests. And once he had done that, he was able to attend to his ship, and then to more properly let his wife welcome him home.

August 23, 1799

Spithead, England

Granger sat in a chair next to Caroline on their veranda, watching the ships at anchor. They’d watered Valiant, tapping into the upper basin as they had the last time. It had almost drained the reservoir, barely leaving enough water to keep the baths operating. It seemed as if by thinking about that problem, Granger had solved it, as he heard the ominous sound of thunder, and then a deluge rained down all around them.

“It is pleasant to watch the rain from such a shelter,” Caroline said. “It is less enjoyable when one is in it.”

“You must experience the joys of rain combined with salt spray,” Granger said.

“Perhaps someday,” she said dubiously. “Is that a boat approaching our dock?”

Granger focused on the boat Caroline had sighted, and felt his pulse quicken. It was the guardboat, and that meant it would most likely be carrying some sort of news. Granger pondered that just enough time had passed for his reports to make it to London, and for the Admiralty to communicate back to him. Granger watched as a lieutenant disembarked and strode up the path, past the basin, even as the poor man was pelted with rain. “Jenkins,” Caroline called.

“My lady?”

“There is an officer arriving. Please direct him back here. We’ll need some refreshments.”

“Of course, my lady,” he said.

“I wonder if this will be orders for you,” Caroline said sadly.

“Quite possibly,” Granger said. “I have been back for four days. I would think you would be ready for me to leave.”

She frowned at him. “I would have you stay here indefinitely, if I had my way.”

He smiled at her frowning face. “If your title were ‘your majesty’, then I would gladly do your bidding, but as it is not, I must do my duty.”

“I think you are setting unreasonable goals for me, George,” she joked. “And if I am not mistaken, it is treasonous to conspire to seize the crown.”

“Then we shall have to leave things as they are,” he said. They were interrupted by the arrival of a pleasant looking young man.

“My lord, Lieutenant Bledsoe,” he said, introducing himself. “We’ve received a letter for you from the Admiralty.” He handed Granger the letter.

“Welcome, Mr. Bledsoe,” Granger said. “Please join us for some drinks. Have you met my wife?”

He bowed gallantly to Caroline. “I have not had that honor, Your Ladyship.”

“Well now you have,” she said. “How nice to meet you. Could I impose on you to pour a glass for us, so George may read his letter? And then we must see if we can help you dry your uniform.”

“Of course, my lady,” Bledsoe said. But Granger had already tuned them out, and began to read his letter.

The Right Honorable Viscount Granger,

commanding His Majesty’s Ship Valiant.

Spithead.

My Lord,

You are hereby directed and required to proceed with His Majesty’s frigate Valiant to Woolwich, with all due haste and speed, immediately upon receipt of these orders.

Evan Nepean, Esquire

Secretary to their Lordships of the Admiralty.

“I am ordered to return to London,” Granger said.

“That is convenient, since I had planned to return there as well,” Caroline noted, smiling at him. That sparked an idea in Granger’s mind, one that he fully fleshed out in no time at all.

Granger turned to Bledsoe. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bledsoe. I hope you will allow me to leave you in the charming company of my wife?”

“Of course, my lord,” he said.

Granger strode back into the house, even as he heard Caroline chatting with the young man. St. Vincent had been accommodated in the library, which was easier for him since it was on the main level. Stairs were difficult for him to navigate, even if he had assistance. Granger scratched at the door, then entered. “You did not get enough of my company at dinner, Granger?” St. Vincent asked jovially. Granger had noted a marked improvement in his health since he’d come ashore, and a marked improvement in his mood. He attributed the latter to Caroline’s charming company. It was amusing to see how easily she had wrapped the old earl around her finger.

“I did not, sir, but in addition to the privilege of enjoying your company, I came to bring you news,” Granger said. St. Vincent stared at him, waiting for him to go on. “I have been ordered to take Valiant to Woolwich.”

“Perhaps they are going to hang you,” St. Vincent joked.

“I would not be surprised, sir,” Granger said with a smile. “My wife and my family are planning to return to London, and I was of a mind to take them with me.”

“You would take your family to London on Valiant?” St. Vincent asked, his eyebrows narrowing in annoyance at the idea that a naval officer would convey his family around. But this was no ordinary naval officer, and his wife was no ordinary woman. “What if we encounter an enemy fleet?”

“I daresay, sir, that if we encounter a fleet large enough to be a hazard to Valiant in the Channel, we have much bigger problems to worry about,” Granger said with a smile.

“I daresay you are correct,” St. Vincent said, chuckling.

“I was thinking that as Rochetts is not far from London, perhaps you would prefer to sail with us, rather than take a carriage?” They both knew that the roads would be bumpy, and it would be an unpleasant journey by coach.

“So you would have me, your wife, and your children on board when you make this run up the Channel?”

“I am trying to dangle enough bait out there to tempt the French, sir,” Granger said.

“When are you leaving?”

“I have been ordered to go as soon as practical, which I would interpret to be on the morning tide, sir.”

“I think that would be preferable to a carriage,” St. Vincent said.

“I think you are correct, sir, provided that if my wife opts to bring our children with us, that they do not cry too much,” Granger said.

“Can’t be worse than listening to a bunch of whining captains,” St. Vincent said.

“We captains are a temperamental lot, sir,” Granger said. “If you will pardon me, I must alert Mr. Weston, and I must see if Her Ladyship wishes to risk her life at sea.”

He nodded, then began rattling out instructions to Grey, as Granger managed to escape from the library.

“Jacobs,” Granger called, catching sight of his coxswain.

“My lord?”

“I need you to take a message to Mr. Weston.”

“Of course, my lord,” he said. Granger jotted out a quick note to Weston, telling him that they’d be leaving on the morning tide, then he went to find Caroline. Fortunately she had managed to rid herself of Bledsoe.

“When will you leave?” Caroline asked him.

“We leave on the morning tide,” Granger said.

“We?”

“I thought that you may enjoy going to London by sea,” Granger explained. “His Lordship has also agreed to accompany us.”

Caroline’s eyes danced with delight. “How wonderful that would be, to actually sail with you! George, that is a fantastic idea! You are sure we won’t be in the way?”

“It is but a short voyage, so I think we can easily accommodate you.”

“Then I must go and prepare for our departure,” she said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“And I must go and see if Mr. Weston can find a place for all of our passengers,” Granger joked. He found Winkler waiting for him, and dragged him down to the dock, all the time rattling off things his efficient young steward would have to attend to. They arrived there just as Jacobs was returning from Valiant, only to make him turn around and row back out to the ship again. Based on the amount of baggage Caroline took with her when she traveled, he suspected these men would be making quite a few more trips.

Granger acknowledged the honors he received as he came aboard, then brushed aside Weston’s pleasantries. “We are to host my wife, my children, and Lord St. Vincent on our voyage to London.”

Weston’s eyes bulged slightly at that. “Aye aye, my lord.”

“I will see you in my cabin directly, so we can plan out the accommodations. Please pass the word for Mr. Andrews.” He turned to Winkler. “I will leave it to you to explain things to LeFavre.”

Winkler cringed. “I suspect he will have some choice words for me, my lord.” Granger chuckled, even as Winkler scurried off to help get things ready.

August 24, 1799

Spithead, England

Granger was quite exhausted when dawn arrived, and heralded the arrival of their passengers. Baggage had been sent over constantly during the night, both for St. Vincent and for Caroline and the children. The carpenter and his mates had established a nursery for the children adjacent to the Wardroom, while Granger’s own cabin had been partitioned to make a cabin for St. Vincent and for Granger and Caroline. Those three, in addition to Captain Grey, would dine together in Granger’s cabin. Grey would be accommodated in the Wardroom.

He trained his eye on the shore and saw his gig pushing off. Caroline sat in the back with William in between her and St. Vincent. The other children were being held by their nurses, who looked terrified at being afloat. They were fortunate, once again, to have flat seas. If this had been attempted during a January gale, those nurses would probably be green with seasickness, in addition to being terrified. The boat pulled up alongside and hooked on, and the bosun’s chair began it’s work. St. Vincent was adamant that Caroline and the children precede him, which was a singular mark of honor. When the chair went back to get William, there was some hesitation. Granger walked over to the side and peered down into the boat.

“I would like to climb up the side like my father does, sir,” William said to St. Vincent courteously. Granger smiled down at his son.

“Then let’s see you do it,” St. Vincent encouraged him. William stood up, balancing in the boat, grabbed the rope ladder, and slowly began to haul himself up. St. Vincent grinned at him, even as he was fitting himself into the bosun’s chair. Granger went to the side and when William got to the top of the ladder, he took William’s hand and pulled him up the rest of the way.

“That was well done,” Granger said.

“Thank you, father,” he said politely. Granger went over to welcome St. Vincent aboard, and to raise his flag yet again. They fired off a salute, which delighted Granger’s children, and then it was time to leave.

“William, you must go below with your brother and sisters,” Caroline said.

“If it would not trouble you too much, dear, I would like it if he could remain here with me,” Granger said. The boy positively beamed at him. And so, with his son standing by his side, Granger gave the order for the anchor to be hove short. “Major Treadway, some music for our lads to heave to, if you would be so kind.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Treadway said. He already had the band assembled, so they began to play on Treadway’s signal.

“What a wonderful band you have,” Caroline said.

“That is thanks to Major Treadway,” Granger said. Caroline smiled at him, but they both seemed nervous, which irritated Granger. He ignored it, lest it disturb his good mood. He had been so busy getting to know his new ship, and dealing with St. Vincent, that he had not gotten a chance to know Treadway very well. And he had not yet had a chance to determine why he and Caroline seemed so uncomfortable around each other.

“Mr. Weston, I would be obliged if you would take us out,” Granger said, giving Weston control of the ship. This was not unusual for Weston, but with St. Vincent and Granger’s whole family aboard, it was a bit more daunting. But Granger had felt bad about St. Vincent’s comment, his allusion that Granger didn’t trust Weston, so he wanted to give his lieutenant a chance to do this, and to show confidence in him.

Granger detached himself a bit from Weston and the others, to give him the freedom to maneuver the ship, while watching to make sure he gave all the right orders. To occupy himself, he explained what they were doing to Caroline and William.

“Look at those men, and how high up they are,” Caroline said, gesturing up at the topsail yards.

“It is an achievement that they do that now, in calm seas, but with a gale raging all around, they are required to perform the same tasks,” Granger noted.

“Do you have to climb up there?” William asked him.

“I do,” Granger said. “But it is rare that I have to climb out on the yards. I am usually lucky enough to only have to go to the tops.” He gestured at the main top.

They passed by the Channel Fleet, with Granger telling them the name of each ship and who her captain was as they went by, and then they were beyond Spithead, and heading into the Channel.

The seas here were calm, not flat, and that caused a bit of motion. Granger was worried that Caroline would succumb to seasickness as Hornblower had, but she was seemingly unaffected, as was William. From the cries below, he soon discovered that one of the nurses was not so lucky. The winds were light from the west, perfect for their voyage.

“Mr. Weston, let’s get the courses and the topgallants on her,” Granger ordered. Men scurried aloft to release that canvas, while Caroline and William watched, amazed, as it was sheeted home and Valiant heeled over with the additional pressure from her sails.

“She is certainly fast,” Caroline said.

“She is not as fast as Bacchante, or Belvidera, but we have discovered that she is very fast in inclement weather,” Granger said.

“That is good news, although I hate to think about you braving dangerous seas,” she said.

“It comes with the job, dear,” Granger said with a smile, then turned to Weston. “Let’s see how she does with the royals.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Weston said with a grin. And then with all sail set except her studding sails, Valiant all but tore up the Channel.

“My lord, my lady, dinner is ready,” Winkler told them, distracting Granger from tending to the ship.

“Mr. Weston, you have the ship,” Granger said. He led Caroline down to his cabin, where he hosted a dinner for her, St. Vincent, and all of his officers except Weston, and those required to be on watch. William was finally dispatched down to the ‘nursery’ to spend some time with his siblings.

August 25, 1799

The Thames Estuary, England

Granger was up before dawn, as was his normal routine while at sea, and up on deck to herald the arrival of the new day. They had made it as far as Margate last night, and had hove to, letting the gentle seas and winds have their way with Valiant.

“Winds are light from the south, my lord,” Meurice said.

“That should serve us well,” Granger replied. “What of the tide?”

“It has just begun to make, my lord.”

“And that is even better.” The door to his cabin opened and Caroline appeared. “You are just in time to see the sunrise, dear.”

Caroline looked aft, toward the east, as the first glint of sunlight began to bathe the horizon. “Will we arrive in London today?”

“We will,” Granger answered. It was reasonable for her to ask such a question, since she would not know how long a voyage up the river would take. “You will get to see what it is like for me to return home after a long voyage.”

“That will be interesting,” she said.

“Land ho! Off the starboard beam!” cried the lookout.

Granger took his glass and peered out in the darkness. Slowly the light brightened his view enough for him to tell that they were still off of Margate. “Mr. Weston, let’s get back on course.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said. They had hove to using the topsails, so they had but to retrim them and brace them round to get Valiant going forward again.

“I think we can handle the courses with a reef until we get to the river,” Granger said. The whistles blew as Weston handled that as well.

“It is beautiful,” Caroline said, gazing aft toward the sunrise. “It is so much more vivid than on land.”

“It is,” Granger agreed. He took her hand and led her up the stairs to the poop deck, and they stood there together, gazing aft as the giant orb slowly began to rise.

They were interrupted by Winkler, who announced breakfast. LeFavre had put out quite a spread, but Granger ate quickly, so anxious was he to be on deck when Valiant reached the river, and the traffic that would challenge them.

He returned to deck just as they passed the Nore. Granger saw Kingsdale busily saluting the other ships as they passed. The poor young man was going to be quite adept at dipping their colors, but he would no doubt be happy to have some actual signals to interpret for a change.

“It looks so different from here,” Caroline said, speaking about the capital.

“This much is certain,” Granger said with a smile. He stood there with his wife, as he conned Valiant past the bends in the river. When they reached Gravesend, the band began to play, and that aroused some attention from the shore. It took them all morning and the better part of the afternoon to work their way up the Thames to Woolwich. And when Valiant finally anchored, her boats leapt into a flurry of activity, taking St. Vincent ashore to a coach for his much shorter ride to Rochetts; taking Caroline and the children to Portland Place; and taking Granger to the Admiralty, to see what new mission Spencer had in store for him.