HMS Valiant - 9. Chapter 9

August 30, 1799

Portland Place

Granger sat in his bath, marveling again at how wonderful it was, and how restorative after even a short voyage. Only that marveling lasted for but a brief period, after which he began to ruminate yet again on how strangely he’d been treated since he returned to London. His orders had made it sound like he was urgently needed, yet he had arrived five days ago and been virtually ignored. Granger had sent a report detailing his voyage, more to let the Admiralty know he had arrived than anything, and had received no response at all. Granger knew that there was really nothing he could do. To make inquiries would make him look ridiculous. To hound the Admiralty would smack of insubordination, and would make him seem impulsive and impatient. He was loath to give that impression, so he would have to just wait, but he didn’t have to like it.

There was a knock on the door to the baths, a rarity in a society where scratching at a door was considered acceptable. But the staff was aware that while Granger was a kind and generous master, nothing made him angrier than being interrupted when he was bathing, and what was unforgivable was to surprise him while he was bathing. As such, in this instance, a knock was allowed at Granger’s home in Portland Place. “Enter,” Granger said, managing to hide his irritation. He knew that it must be important for the staff to risk his ire.

Cheevers himself entered, yet another good mark for this man who was such an excellent butler. He would risk Granger’s wrath by interrupting himself, rather than delegate the job to a footman. “I am sorry to bother you, my lord. A letter just arrived for you. It appears to be from the Admiralty.”

Granger felt his pulse quicken, and had to restrain himself as his curiosity was now fully aroused. He walked out of the bath calmly, smiling inwardly as Cheevers ogled his body. Granger did not know if it was lust, or merely shock, but he had the presence of mind to hand Granger a towel. Granger fully dried himself off and put on his robe before he deigned to take the letter from Cheevers.

He scanned the letter, his curiosity completely unsatisfied. It was merely a brief note from Nepean requesting that he call at the Admiralty at his earliest convenience. Granger forced himself to calmly fold the letter back up. “I would be obliged if you would have the carriage brought around,” he said slowly.

“Of course, my lord,” Cheevers said, and ushered Granger out of the baths and up the stairs to his room, where Winkler was there to attend to him.

“I will need my dress uniform,” Granger said. “I am bidden to the Admiralty.”

“Perhaps we will find out where we’re going this time, my lord,” Winkler said as he helped Granger with his stockings. Some men would have lambasted a servant who had the temerity to speculate about his orders, but Granger had a special relationship with Winkler, and their communication was more intimate.

“Perhaps,” Granger said. He finished dressing and then slowly walked down the stairs and out the front door to find his carriage waiting for him. “The Admiralty,” he said to the coachman.

“Yes, my lord,” the coachman replied. Granger sat back in the soft leather seats and forced his curiosity and anticipation to ebb as he made his way to the Admiralty. He would, above all else, appear calm and unruffled.

Granger had been thoroughly annoyed at how the press had portrayed his victory over the Spanish squadron, making it sound like Valiant had single-handedly fought and defeated an entire Spanish fleet. He sighed, something he allowed himself to do since he was alone. That report would only make him more popular with the mob, and arouse yet more jealousy from his fellow naval officers. Neither one of those consequences was something Granger relished. A small group of people saw his carriage drive up to the Admiralty and gathered around to see Granger. He made his way through them with the help of the marines guarding the Admiralty, smiling and nodding to the people as they uttered inane encouragement to him. Such was the price of fame; he would happily do without it.

He strode up to the secretary, who smiled at him. “If you will have a seat, my lord, I will tell His Lordship you are here.” That was the positive side of fame: it was pleasant to be recognized in these hallowed halls.

“Of course,” Granger said politely. He pondered the man’s words. So he was to see Spencer himself, and not Nepean or one of the other Admiralty administrators. He allowed his eyes to scan the waiting room, using only his peripheral vision, trying to decide which seating option was the least onerous. There was a dour looking captain Granger did not know, a chatty lieutenant whom Granger had met briefly when serving with Nelson at the Nile, and a midshipman who was sneezing, and evidently afflicted by some ailment.

Granger was spared from making that unenviable choice of companions when the secretary returned. “My lord, His Lordship will see you now.”

“Thank you,” Granger said with a smile, and followed him back to Spencer’s office.

The First Lord was standing there to greet him, a marked sign of courtesy. “Ah, Granger. You responded quite fast.”

“I am at your service, sir,” Granger said with a smile.

“We’ll see if you end up being happy with that state of affairs,” Spencer said. Granger managed to avoid swallowing in nervousness over what foul task he would have set upon him, and merely stood rigidly, waiting for Spencer to speak again. “How is St. Vincent?”

“His spirit is the same, sir, but he is quite frail,” Granger said. “He needs help to move about, and he appears to be all but exhausted.”

“Do you think he could go to sea again?”

“I wouldn’t feel knowledgeable enough to make that kind of assessment, sir,” Granger said. He certainly wasn’t a doctor. “I would be able to say with some certainty that he could not go to sea immediately.”

“I see.”

“When we fought our action against the Spanish, sir, he seemed to come alive again, and I had hoped that would be a lasting effect, but alas, it was not.”

Spencer nodded. “It sounds as if his body is failing him, but his mind is not.”

“I found His Lordship to be as clear of mind and as sharp as he always was,” Granger said, then smiled. “Although perhaps a bit more curmudgeonly.”

Spencer chuckled. “How is Valiant?”

“I would have initially described her as a good sea boat, sir, one that has the speed of one of our older frigates, but not the agility,” Granger said.

“It doesn’t sound like she impressed you,” Spencer noted. The man was quite adept at probing.

“Her handling did not initially impress me, sir, but when one factors in the weight of her broadside that compensates for a relative lack of speed” Granger said. “When we were in action with the Spaniards, we discovered something quite useful.”

“Indeed?”

“While Valiant is not an impressive performer in fair weather, in gales and rough seas she is superb. After we engaged the Santa Catalina, and were attempting to escape from the San Justo, sir, we were surprised that the Spanish kept up the chase. We suspect that they thought that the San Justo would perform better, and make less leeway than Valiant in the building seas.”

“But she did not?”

“She did not, sir. We were able to easily outpace her, and to do so without seeming to strain our spars.”

“That is interesting. Do you have any idea why that is?”

“I will have to ask Mr. Hornblower when next I see him, sir, as he is all but a mathematical genius and would surely be able to explain it,” Granger said, remembering to give Hornblower some praise. “But I have consulted with the ship’s master, Mr. Meurice, and we attribute it to the higher center of gravity, the stepping of the masts farther aft, the heavier rigging, and the water tanks.”

“Why would the water tanks assist you?”

“Mr. Meurice thinks, sir, that while our center of gravity is higher, having the weight of the water so low in the hull acts as a counter balance to the waves.”

“Fascinating,” Spencer said. “You will have to keep me informed as you get more experience with her.”

“Aye aye, sir,” Granger said. Spencer paused and refilled their glasses, an indication that he was changing topics as well.

“As Valiant has not formally been assigned to a fleet yet, she provides me with a wonderful option to deal with some of the other more miscellaneous tasks we are given.”

“I will gladly go wherever you send me, sir,” Granger said, and that was true, although he knew there were limits on how far Spencer could dispatch him without his tacit approval. That was the result of his voyage around the world.

“Then you will be going to Turkey,” Spencer said.

Granger stared at Spencer and for once was unable to hide his surprise. “Turkey, sir?”

“Yes. We are dispatching an envoy to the Sublime Porte to see if we can’t tie the Ottomans to us a little closer. With Bonaparte’s incursion into Egypt, and then his failed attempt to take the Levant, he has both angered the Sultan, and shown himself to be vulnerable, so it appears to be an ideal opportunity to exploit our ties to them. You are to convey our envoy and his entourage to Constantinople,” Spencer said.

“Who is to be the envoy, sir?” Granger asked.

“Lord Elgin.”

Granger knew that he was a Scottish peer, and had seen him at court before. He was in his early 30s, and still quite handsome. “I fear I know little about him, sir.”

“Normally I would dispatch Cavendish over to give you some useful information about him, but as he is still in the north country, I will have to do that myself.”

“I am most appreciative of anything you can tell me,” Granger said.

“Elgin is a typical Scotsman. You will find that he will part with coins only if they are all but wrested from his clutches. He can be charming and affable enough, when he wants to be, but tends to treat his staff with disdain. You cannot rely on him to police their activities,” Spencer said. That meant that Granger would have to be responsible for disciplining Elgin’s staff, should they get out of line on his ship. “You should also know that one of his entourage, a Reverend Hunt, is so pedantic that Sir John Borlase Warren almost had him thrown overboard when he conveyed him to Belgium.” Granger almost laughed out loud at the thought that Warren, who was one of England’s premiere frigate captains, would let some minister so rile him.

“A penurious Scotsman, and a difficult man of God,” Granger said ruefully. “I fear I have vexed you, sir, for you to inflict such punishment upon me.”

Spencer laughed. “It does get a bit worse.”

“Sir?” Granger asked, barely managing to hide his apprehension.

“Lady Elgin will be accompanying His Lordship.”

“I have not had the privilege of meeting Her Ladyship,” Granger said.

“That is because until a few months ago, she was Miss Nesbit, the daughter of a man of means but with little else to commend him. Some say that Elgin married her because of his avarice, while others suggest that it was not greed, but impoverishment, that caused him to make such an alliance. In any event, you will find her to be a true product of the merchant class from which she comes.” Granger was flattered that Spencer was unbending so much with him, even though the words were not to his liking.

“So we should not expect charming female company sir?”

“No, you should not, especially since she is with child.”

“She is going to travel to Constantinople in that state, sir?” Granger asked, incredulous.

“They are newly wed, and she wants to perform her duties as hostess for her husband,” Spencer said.

“If you will pardon me for asking, sir, what kind of behavior can I expect from her?”

“She is rumored to whine quite a bit, and she also tends to complain most frequently about her health. In addition, she is quite prim and proper, and has a more difficult time with more libertine society.”

“Then it is no wonder I have not met her, sir,” Granger joked, getting a laugh from Spencer.

“Nor was she presented to me prior to this assignment, and this marriage.”

“One thing is certain, sir. When I walk in here, I usually am surprised by the challenges you give me.”

Spencer laughed again. “If you did not execute those tasks so well, Granger, you would probably find yourself blockading a French or Spanish port.”

“I am not sure if that would not be preferable to dealing with the Elgins and their entourage,” Granger said.

“Neither am I,” Spencer said.

“Sir, I would like to pose two questions to you, if I may,” Granger said, being quite daring.

“Go ahead,” Spencer said, being tolerant of Granger, who was one of his favorite captains, and who was being given an unusual mission.

“I am not beloved in the Muslim world, and I would expect that the Sultan is not enamored of me either. When traveling through Egypt, it took considerable effort to even convince my guide to convey me.”

“And you are worried that when you arrive in Constantinople the Sultan will string you up?”

Granger manfully controlled his anger, even though he was irate that Spencer would even suggest he was afraid. To imply such a thing was tantamount to calling Granger a coward. It was only the fact that he knew Spencer, and thus could assume that Spencer misspoke, that allowed him to retain control of his temper. “I am not concerned for my own safety, sir, but I am concerned that my presence would merely antagonize the Sultan.”

“I did not mean to imply that you were lacking in courage, Granger,” Spencer said, recognizing that he’d offended the young man. “I do not think there is anything wrong with self-preservation.”

“Thank you, sir,” Granger said, and the environment became more pleasant again.

“What was your other question?” Spencer asked, avoiding a response to the first.

“I am curious, sir, although I have no right to ask, why I was chosen for this mission?”

“Your two questions are actually related. From the perspective of the Sultan, we are aware that your presence may antagonize him, but it will also remind him of what we are capable of. So when Lord Elgin finds the Sultan difficult, your visit will remind him of the costs of duplicitous neutrality.”

That was extremely flattering and not a little unnerving, to think that Granger was being used as a diplomatic tool to rattle the cage of an Oriental potentate. “I understand, sir.”

“The other aspect of your appointment has more to do with your social rank.” Granger was confused about that, because he didn’t think that would factor too greatly with the Sultan. “If Lord and Lady Elgin are difficult, they will have to take into account that you are not as easy to sacrifice as one of my less-well-connected captains.”

“I will do my best to get along with them, sir,” Granger said reassuringly. “Even though I will not have to worry about being put to the stake in some pagan sacrifice.” Spencer chuckled at his joke.

“I have no doubt that you will, Granger, and that was part of it. You are known to be charming and diplomatic, but you are also exalted enough so that you don’t have to tolerate unnecessary tedium.”

“I understand, sir.”

“And there is finally one more matter, one more mission that I have for you to undertake, and this one is for me personally.”

“Sir?”

Spencer poured yet more wine for them. “Nelson has followed up his spectacular success at the Nile with a damaging performance in Sicily.”

“I heard about the Caracciolo affair, sir,” Granger said. That had been a blot on Nelson, and the Royal Navy. A Sicilian admiral, Ruffo, had offered rebellious Neapolitan nobles amnesty, which King Ferdinand renounced. Nelson personally arranged the court martial of Admiral Caracciolo, one of those who surrendered under the terms of the amnesty, and oversaw his subsequent execution on board a Sicilian warship serving in conjunction with Nelson’s fleet.

“Evidently only a third of those who surrendered, and took advantage of the amnesty, survived,” Spencer said.

“Forgive me for not being surprised at such outcomes, sir, when one is dealing with the Neapolitan court,” Granger said. He thought the entire government of Naples was corrupt, dissolute, and inept.

“That’s as may be, but it is hardly consistent with His Majesty’s wishes for one of His Majesty’s officers, and a peer of the realm no less, to sanction such a dishonorable act,” Spencer said, with real anger in his eyes.

“Yes, sir,” Granger agreed, since he did in fact agree with Spencer.

“Then there is another matter,” Spencer said delicately. “The rumored liaison between Nelson and Sir William’s wife, Lady Hamilton.”

“I had heard about that as well, sir,” Granger said. It had been one of the key tidbits of gossip about town, even though the season was over. When everyone returned to London, it would become much more talked about. “I have met Lady Hamilton, and indeed she is quite beautiful.”

“She may be beautiful, but to cuckold His Majesty’s ambassador while serving on the same station is infamous,” Spencer said. “Especially when his own wife is here in England, cutting a most sympathetic figure.”

“I had heard, sir, that Sir William did not appear to be offended by the relationship,” Granger said cautiously.

“That is my understanding as well, although I am not sure of the sources.” That almost made it worse, to think that Sir William condoned the romantic relationship between Nelson and his wife. Granger wondered briefly if they were engaged in a ménage a trois, but found the vision so disturbing, he forced his mind to focus on Spencer. Spencer paused, probably for emphasis. “Nelson is brilliant, and his victory at the Nile was spectacular. But his behavior since then threatens to destroy the image of the hero that he has earned. He was awarded a barony for his victory, and was none too gracious, calling it a poor excuse for a reward.”

“Begging your pardon, sir, but it is hard to fault him for feeling shunted by that. Sir John Jervis received an earldom for the Battle of Cape St. Vincent, where we achieved less spectacular results.”

“I don’t suppose you’d like to share that viewpoint with St. Vincent?” Spencer asked playfully.

“That would not be my first choice, sir,” Granger said. “Perhaps a more appropriate comparison would be with Admiral Duncan, who was made a viscount after Camperdown.”

“I did not call you in here to tell me we have treated Nelson badly,” Spencer snapped, then regained his composure. “I did what I could, but it was not enough, evidently.”

“Perhaps His Lordship just needs to win another battle, sir,” Granger said, trying to bring Spencer back to a happier state.

“Perhaps,” Spencer said, “but with his conduct in Naples and Sicily, I am worried that he will destroy his career.”

“Surely it’s not that dire, sir,” Granger said, horrified that such a brilliant admiral would be sidelined because of his peccadilloes.

“When you add onto that Nelson’s general outrage over Sir Sidney Smith’s appointment, notwithstanding his subsequent praise of Smith’s conduct during the siege of Acre; and his inability to get along with Keith, the general impression is of a man who is a genius, but out of control, and insubordinate.”

“That is unfortunate,” Granger observed. “What would you have me do, sir?”

“You have known Nelson for many years. You performed your duties as Captain of the Fleet at the Battle of the Nile to perfection, if one is to believe Nelson’s praise of you. He likes you, and he respects you,” Spencer said.

“If you say so, sir,” Granger said. He didn’t think he held that much esteem in Nelson’s eyes.

“I do,” Spencer said firmly. “I want you to call on Nelson, preferably on your way to Constantinople, and see if you can’t talk some sense into him.”

Granger recoiled; horrified that he would be put in a position to try and dictate to Nelson what he should and should not do, especially with his private life. “I would think he would find such representations on my part to be impertinent, at best.”

“I do not want you to tell him what to do,” Spencer said. “I want you to explain the situation to him clearly, to fill in the blanks where perhaps letters from me and friends of his have not been able to convey. Would you not consider Nelson to be a friend?”

“I consider his friendship to be an honor, sir,” Granger said sincerely.

“All I am asking you to do is to be a friend, and explain the situation clearly to him. If he does not act on your good offices, there is nothing more lost, and if we can persuade him to stop this folly, I may be able to save him.”

“I understand, sir,” Granger said. “I will certainly do my best.”

“I’m sure you will,” Spencer said, then looked at the clock. Granger took that as a sign that he was being dismissed, and made to rise, but a look from Spencer caused him to relax again. “There is one more thing.”

“Sir?” Granger asked. He couldn’t possibly fathom what else Spencer would have for him to do.

“You were brought around to London for a special purpose. I would like you to plan a party on board Valiant, to be held on September 9,” he said.

Granger eyed him curiously. “That is easy to accomplish. Will this be a grand affair?”

“It will be. It should be quite splendid, as a matter of fact. You will be entertaining distinguished visitors,” Spencer said. Granger began to wonder if there was some foreign head of state that needed to be entertained while being simultaneously given a reminder of British naval power.

“Certainly, sir,” Granger said, his mind beginning to think of how he could throw a gala on Valiant. “May I inquire as to who these visitors are?”

“You may,” he said. “His Majesty has chosen to grace the Valiant with a visit.”

Granger stared at Spencer, and for once he was stunned speechless. Spencer smiled at having stymied this normally cool young man. “The King?” Granger asked.

“I was not clear?” Spencer responded.

“No sir,” Granger said hastily. “Of course you were. I was just surprised, and overwhelmed with the honor His Majesty does me and my ship.”

“This latest tale of yours, dismasting a Spanish frigate under the nose of her attending fleet and then escaping unharmed, has apparently piqued His Majesty’s interest enough that he wants to come see your ship and meet your crew.”

“I did not dismast the frigate, sir,” Granger asserted. “We merely took out one of her topmasts.”

“Does that mean you would refuse to entertain His Majesty?” Spencer asked acidly, in no mood to quibble about the reporting done by the press. He dealt with those hooligans enough on his own.

“Of course not, sir,” Granger said hastily. “I merely did not want to do so under false pretenses.”

“His Majesty is fond of you, Granger, and he wants to see your vessel. Humor him, and show him a good time.”

Granger smiled. “I will certainly do that, sir.”

“You will need to move Valiant to the Tower, to facilitate His Majesty’s access to her. You will receive orders to that effect shortly.”

“Aye aye sir,” Granger said automatically.

“By the way, how is Major Treadway working out?”

“Quite well, sir,” Granger said, even though he was still curious as to what had passed between Treadway and Caroline. “I have been very impressed with him so far.”

“Excellent,” Spencer said, and ended their interview. A very dazed Granger paused outside Spencer’s office briefly to collect himself, and then strode confidently out of the Admiralty, only to find himself in a mob of admirers.

“Sergeant, can you clear a path for me to the jetty?” Granger asked.

“Of course, my lord,” he said pleasantly. There were several additional marines there to help. “We were planning for your departure.” He smiled when he said that.

“Thank you,” Granger said with a smile. “Perhaps you would be willing to tell my coachman he can return home? I am going to my ship.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said, using the familiar naval jargon that was quite reassuring. The marines cleared a path down to the river, where Granger hired a boat to take him to Valiant.

He studied his command as they approached her. When he had taken command of his first ship, the Intrepid, he had all but fallen in love with her immediately. With his subsequent ships, Belvidera and Bacchante, he had felt similar reactions. Yet his reaction to Valiant was not love at first sight, nor had he become all that enamored of her on their voyage to Cadiz. But he was growing to appreciate her beauty, and her attributes. He smiled; thinking that she was much like an uglier woman a man takes for a wife, where it takes him a while to work past her face to see the true beauty beneath it.

He looked at her more closely, and was pleased to see that Weston had been working hard to get her back into perfect condition. It was inevitable that time at sea would wear her paint away, and Weston had already worked to solve that problem. Then there were the myriad of small details to attend to, things that were often of a low priority when they were at sea. He suspected the men had been busy.

“Boat ahoy!” came the hail from his ship.

“Valiant,” the boatman replied, then guided his craft up to Valiant’s chains.

“Thank you,” Granger said, and handed the man some coins, vastly overpaying as would be expected of someone of his station. He easily hauled himself up the sides, saluting the quarterdeck as he came through the entry port.

“Welcome back, my lord,” Weston said.

“Thank you, Mr. Weston. I will see you, Mr. Andrews, Mr. Eastwyck, Major Treadway, and Mr. Clifton in my cabin at once,” Granger said.

“Of course, my lord,” he said. “Mr. Eastwyck went ashore.” Granger could hardly be upset about that, since he’d been ashore much of the time since they’d been back.

“Shore leave will be significantly diminished for the next few weeks,” Granger said.

“Aye aye, my lord,” Weston said. Granger went into his cabin, and found that it was strange being here without Winkler. But Winkler’s assistant, a young man named Cabot, was on hand to set up refreshments for his officers. He had just finished setting out glasses and a decanter when the officers arrived.

“Welcome, gentlemen,” Granger said. “Please have a seat.” He gestured to the dining table, where they all arrayed themselves around it in the customary order of seniority.

“Will you need anything else, my lord?” Cabot asked.

“No, Cabot,” Granger said, dismissing him, and then turned to face his officers. “Normally I would host a dinner to share our orders with you, but in this case, time is of the essence, so I hope you will forgive my lack of hospitality.”

“That’s quite alright, my lord,” Weston said. “We have been busy, and have taken on stores. We could be ready to sail tomorrow, but two more days in port would be preferable.”

“That is good to know, Mr. Weston, but we will not be leaving just yet,” Granger said, and now he really had their attention. “We will be staying here in port until at least September 10. On September 9, we will be hosting a large reception, a fete if you will. I summoned you here because I will need your help to make sure we are ready.”

Granger watched their faces, grinning internally at how they struggled to not show surprise and irritation that this urgent matter he had alluded to was merely strategizing with them about a party. “My lord, may I inquire as to who will be attending this party?” Treadway asked.

“His Majesty,” Granger said. They all blinked at him, shocked by his announcement as much as Granger had been when Spencer had told him.

“The King, sir?” Clifton asked.

“Yes,” Granger said simply. After that, they were much more enthusiastic about planning the big gala event.