Peace of Amiens - 3. Chapter 3

August 15, 1801

HMS Endymion

Portsmouth, England

“I will be at sea for the next few months, then I expect to be home,” Granger said to his children. He was happy that he’d gotten the chance to spend time with them this summer, and that had enhanced his relationship with them. Unfortunately, that just made the goodbyes worse.

“Good luck, Father,” William said formally. That was so reflective of his personality: he was very serious and somewhat dour, especially for an eight-year-old.

“Be nice to your mother when she visits,” Granger admonished him. Granger was proud of William’s stoicism but was worried that he would end up like Freddie.

“I will do my best,” he said.

“You always do,” Granger said, then hugged him warmly. Despite William’s seriousness, there was a deep bond between them, and that pushed aside his worry that William would end up like Granger’s older brother. William was very fair-minded, and Granger knew that there was a caring person beneath his rigid exterior. They hugged again, then Granger focused his attention on Charlotte.

“Do be careful,” she said, smiling shyly. If William was more like Freddie, Charlotte’s personality at the age of seven seemed more like his own, and that affinity had brought them much closer.

“I think it’s more accurate to worry about your being careful,” he said, then picked his daughter up and held her.

“I am always careful,” she said, getting a chuckle from Alexander. Granger put her down and focused on his youngest son, who was six years old.

“She’s always running off and doing things when she thinks no one is watching,” Alexander said, trying to get her into trouble.

“I do not!” Charlotte objected strongly, turning to glare at Alexander. Granger patted her on the back, then shook his head at his irrepressible younger son.

“Unlike you, who gets into trouble in front of everyone,” Granger joked, and picked up Alexander too. Appropriately enough, he squirmed. Granger smiled and shook his head, because Alexander was most like Bertie.

Granger put him down then picked up Elizabeth. She was not truly his daughter, as she had been conceived when Caroline had an affair with His Highness the Duke of Gloucester, but he loved her just as much as his other children. She was quite adorable at age four, and he suspected that she would end up being quite charming at court and in the salons. “Behave yourself,” Granger said, and bumped her head with his playfully.

“I’ll be good,” she said, but in such a way that neither one of them believed her. He put her down, then turned away from them, opening his eyes widely to make the tears evaporate. It was no surprise that relief from his emotional distress came in the form of Winkler.

“My lord, we finished your cabin this morning,” Winkler said. He’d been toiling diligently to get everything painted, organized, and stowed.

“I appreciate how hard you worked to get it done so quickly,” he said to Winkler with great affection.

Winkler got flustered, as he usually did when Granger praised him. “Thank you, my lord,” he muttered. Granger got to his gig and followed Winkler in, then took his seat at the stern. Granger smiled at Winkler indulgently, then focused on his big coxswain.

“I see you managed to paint the gig, Jacobs,” Granger said in a jocular way. The gig was done up in his family colors, with the exterior of the boat and the stems of the oars in Bridgemont blue, and the inside of the boat and the blades of the oars in Lammert yellow. “I suspect the bigger challenge was fitting the uniforms on these men.” The men wore prescribed uniforms of yellow pants and shirts with blue tunics, designed to perfectly match the colors of his gig. They grinned at his comment.

“Your lordship is correct in that, as in most things,” Jacobs said.

“It looks quite nice,” he said, but they were already up to the ship and Jacobs had to turn away to reply to her hail.

“Row around her,” Granger ordered.

“Aye aye, my lord,” Jacobs said. Granger focused on this vessel that had already endeared herself to him even before they had sailed. He was very impressed with his wardroom and his petty officers. All of them were young except the master, who was probably 50 years old. Despite his advanced years, he had been very enthusiastic about Granger’s description of the changes he’d made to Valiant. The marines were commanded by Gilles Moultray, a man who was quite focused on being a soldier and reminded Granger a bit of Arthur Wellesley. His other midshipman was Spencer’s son, Robert Cavendish Spencer, all of thirteen years old. He had just come aboard about a month ago, so he had the wide eyes of a young man trying desperately to understand this world he'd walked into.

The gig hooked on and Granger leapt agilely for the chains and hauled himself aboard. “Welcome back, my lord,” Austen said pleasantly.

“I am glad to be here, since we are to sail shortly,” Granger said, telling him something he already knew. “Please have the hands lay aft.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said, then gave the order that started the whistles blowing, followed by the men pouring into the waist and fo’c’sle. They looked happy, courtesy of the fresh meat and vegetables Granger had funded for them. He had had a strange event happen a few days ago, when five men deserted. Granger knew that was a problem in Royal Navy ships, but he had rarely experienced it himself. Part of that was his star power, part of it was the way he treated his crew, but another part was that the men usually had a lot of money coming their way, due to prizes, when the ship paid off. That made the calculation tougher when they pondered desertion. The most surprising thing about the deserters, though, was that three of them came back, abjectly apologizing. Those men had spent the past few days cleaning out the bilges.

Granger looked out at the men briefly, then began speaking. “Men, we are honored to be picked as the ship that is designated to guard His Majesty when he is in Weymouth.” He had to stop as these men cheered enthusiastically. Most of them would never see the king, much less get as close as they would when he was on the ship. He began speaking again and that shut them up. “After we leave port, you will all be issued tunics and pants so you look prettier when the King comes aboard.” That got chuckles, but also looks of concern which were wiped away with his next statement. “There will be no cost to you for those items.” He turned to Austin. “Dismiss the men.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said, and gave orders for that.

“Let’s get the anchor in,” Mr. Austen. “Hands, man the topsails.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Austen said, and began belting out orders, and with that, the crew of Endymion began executing those familiar shipboard routines. Granger subconsciously heard all of these things, even as his senses began to function at a much higher level while he tried to discern the weather and the direction of the wind.

“Topsails, Mr. Austen,” Granger ordered. He didn’t even hear Austen’s reply, so focused was he on watching how well the men set sail. He would have to remember to compliment Captain Williams on running a crack ship.

“Anchor’s hove short,” my lord,” called Bligh from the waist.

Granger nodded to acknowledge his words, then waited for that moment when Endymion would be free of the sea floor. There was some loud grunting from the capstan, and he began to worry that the anchor was foul. The grunting ended with a loud cry and cheer, then Granger felt Endymion begin to get underway. “A point to the larboard,” Granger said to the helmsman. “The Ryde Sands will be a bit too close on our current course.” He pointed them out so the helmsman would know to avoid them, or at least be forewarned if they were about to go aground.

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said. Granger had been worried that Endymion would not handle well in port, but he had been completely wrong about that. She glided through Spithead, lucky in that the Channel Fleet was not in port, then past St. Helens, then Granger wore ship to head down channel.

“Let’s get the courses on her,” Granger said. He was euphoric. The weather was partly cloudy, the seas were moderate, and the wind was a notch higher than moderate.

Austen acknowledged his order, executed it, then took his place next to Granger. “She is fast, my lord,” he said, smiling.

“That she is,” Granger agreed, smiling back. Austen was a very efficient first lieutenant. He had seemed to have more of the organizer in him than the warrior, so it was refreshing to see how the sea transformed him into a more passionate man. “Do you think she can handle the topgallants?”

“I think so, my lord,” he said. Granger motioned Grover over.

“I am considering adding the topgallants to our spread of canvas,” Granger said in a playful way. He was so happy to be back at sea, it was impossible to hide his joy. “Do you think she can handle them?”

Grover almost growled, then smiled back. “I think she can, my lord,” he said. He nodded to Austen, who gave orders to the topmen, sending them high above the deck. Granger watched as they performed what were virtually acrobatics.

“A cast of the log,” Granger ordered. He didn’t deign to watch them do it, he was so focused on evaluating the strain from Endymion’s set of sails.

“Nigh on 13 knots, my lord,” Grover reported back. This was glorious, going faster than he’d been able to go even in Belvidera. With the wind on their quarter, they made a remarkably short passage, traveling the 70 miles in six hours. They had left at dawn and reached Weymouth in time for dinner. Granger wondered how he would adapt to Valiant’s slower and plodding pace after commanding a racehorse like Endymion.

August 26, 1801

HMS Endymion

The English Channel

Granger had just finished conning Endymion out of Weymouth and had set her courses. It was a beautiful day, sunny with a light breeze blowing up-channel, so Granger headed in that direction, steering toward the French coast. The only thing that marred this day was the heat, which was subdued in the morning, but would get worse in the afternoon.

“This ship is quite fast, what what,” the King said.

“Your Majesty is correct,” Granger said, smiling at his sovereign. “Endymion is the fastest ship in Your Majesty’s fleet.”

“Can she go faster, my lord?” Princess Amelia asked. She was the King’s youngest daughter, and had a light and playful manner that was markedly different from those of her dour sisters. All of them were kept subdued under the iron rule of their mother.

“Let us leave that to Lord Brentwood,” the Queen admonished.

“I would be happy to oblige Your Royal Highness, if that meets with Your Majesties’ approval,” Granger said.

The King answered for both of them. “Let’s see how fast she goes.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Granger said, then walked over to Austen. “Mr. Austen, I’ll have the topgallants and royals on her, and the studding sails as well.”

Austen smiled at him. “Aye aye, my lord.” He began to give orders, and the men surged up the masts to loosen the highest sails on Endymion, then they put studding sails on the courses and topsails. Within fifteen minutes, the ship was flying across the Channel toward France

“This is marvelous!” Amelia exclaimed.

“Most invigorating,” Princess Sophia agreed.

“She is indeed fast,” the King said, smiling. The Queen was not as amused but humored the rest of them.

Granger pointed out the port of Cherbourg, then changed course so they were on a more easterly path. “Shortly we will be near Le Havre, the port that I sailed from when I returned from France, Your Majesty.”

“Do not get us captured, Lord Brentwood,” Lord Salisbury admonished. Amelia and Sophia gave him unpleasant looks.

“Sir, Endymion is fast enough to avoid any ship that can threaten her, especially with the sea and wind as they are,” Granger replied, but that didn’t do much to ease Salisbury’s apprehension.

“Sail ho!” the lookout called. “Permission to come down and report, my lord.”

“Come on down,” Granger shouted through his speaking trumpet, then turned to Austen. “Please send another man up to replace him.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Austen said.

The lookout approached him nervously, then bowed in an awkward way to the King, who smiled at him indulgently. “My lord,” he said, turning his attention back to Granger. “There are two ships coming out of Le Havre. The lead ship looks to be a fishing boat, and she’s flying British colors. She’s being chased by a French lugger.”

“Is the lugger gaining on the fishing boat?” Granger asked.

“She is, my lord,” he said.

“If Your Majesty will excuse me, I will go aloft,” Granger said. The King nodded, and Granger walked forward to the foremast and climbed up to the foretop.

“Over there, my lord,” said the new lookout. Granger trained his glass on the French lugger and was fairly certain she was a coast guard ship designed to prevent smuggling. The fishing boat looked French as well, but there was a man on board wearing an abundance of gold lace. Granger could not make out his face, but he appeared to be a Royal Navy officer.

Granger closed his telescope, grabbed a backstay, and slid down to the deck, oblivious to the fact that, by doing so, he had probably destroyed his stockings. “Your Majesty, it appears that there is a British officer in a fishing boat trying to escape from the French coast guard.”

“A British officer, what what?” the King asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Granger said, then swallowed hard before continuing. “I am confident that we can arrive in time to save that boat from the French lugger. I am also confident that there is no risk to taking such a course of action, but I would not want to endanger Your Person without Your Majesty’s permission.”

“Brentwood, this is madness,” Salisbury intervened. “You cannot take this ship into combat with His Majesty aboard.”

“Lord Salisbury, that lugger will have six pounder guns at the most, and those will not be able to penetrate Endymion’s sides. If Their Majesties and Their Royal Highnesses go below, I am confident that no harm will come to them. I think the chance to rescue one of His Majesty’s officers is worth that minimal risk,” Granger said.

“Save that officer,” the King ordered, then turned to his wife and daughters. “My dear, I would be obliged if you would go below.”

“I want to stay!” Amelia objected. A fearsome look from her mother prompted her to obey, and the women left the quarterdeck.

“It would be safer for Your Majesty to go below as well,” Salisbury said to his sovereign.

“I will stay here,” he said firmly. Granger smiled at him and got a wink in return.

“Mr. Bligh, clear away the bow chasers,” Granger ordered. “You may fire at the lugger as soon as you are in range.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said. They watched as the men cleared away the two forward 9-pounders. The vessels were visible from the quarterdeck now, and they were gaining on them quickly. They were all surprised when the gun fired. Granger observed the fall of the shot and noticed it was short.

“Mr. Austen, take in the studding sails and the royals,” Granger ordered. They would probably have to heave to shortly, and they would need to reduce sails to do that.

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said. Whistles blew and men poured up the masts, even as the 9-pounder fired again.

With the next shot, the 9-pounder found her mark, and smashed into the small French ship. “That’s a hit, my lord,” Kingsdale said enthusiastically.

“Lord Kingsdale, prepare to lower the longboat with a strong boarding party. I’ll be sending you over to that fishing boat when we have driven off the lugger,” Granger said. He usually didn’t address his titled officers so formally, but with the Royal Family aboard, he made sure to adhere to strict etiquette.

“Aye aye, my lord,” he acknowledged.

Granger watched as another shot hit the lugger, and that convinced the French that it was time to turn back. As she wore ship and retreated, the men cheered. “That was good shooting, Mr. Bligh!” Granger called.

“Thank you, my lord,” Bligh shouted back.

“Take in the topgallants as well, Mr. Austen, and prepare to heave to when we are a cable’s length from that boat,” Granger ordered. He didn’t hear the man’s acknowledgment because he was focused on the fishing boat.

He was wondering where the officer had gone, until he finally spotted him, sitting down on the deck with a pistol in his hand. Granger was confused as to why until he saw one of the crewmembers pressing a bandage against his shoulder. The man must be wounded. Then the man looked toward Endymion and Granger got a good look at his face. That officer was Francis Calvert. “Jacobs!” Granger called.

“My lord?”

“I’ll want my gig brought around,” Granger ordered. “Pass the word for Dr. Jackson.”

The doctor appeared shortly. “My lord?”

“There is a wounded British officer aboard that ship,” Granger said, then swallowed hard. “He is Captain Calvert.” Jackson blinked momentarily.

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said.

“Jacobs, you will bring Captain Calvert back here as quickly as possible,” Granger ordered, then turned to Kingsdale. “You will secure that boat.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” they acknowledged. Both boats were lowered and crewed, waiting only for Endymion to stop her forward motion.

“Heave to!” Granger ordered, then focused on the fishing boat.

“You know the man in that fishing boat?” the King asked.

Granger had completely forgotten that his sovereign was aboard. “Yes, Your Majesty. He is Captain Francis Calvert.”

“You and he are rumored to be quite close,” the King said with a frown.

“We are the best of friends, Your Majesty,” Granger said. “When I took command of my first ship, the Intrepid, he was my first lieutenant. He was my protégé, although I think I learned as much from him as he learned from me.”

“What did you learn?” the King asked.

“Your Majesty, we were about to assault the fort on St. Martin, and I was determined to lead that effort. He reminded me that my place was on board the ship, and that it was important for me to have confidence in my officers, and to show that by giving them command of such ventures,” Granger said.

“And was the assault successful?” the King asked.

“It was, Your Majesty,” Granger said. “Lieutenant Humphreys, who has since sadly died in action, captured the fort and discovered that there was a French ship of the line in port. I had planned to enter the harbor at dawn, and as Intrepid was only a sloop, she would have been pounded into boxwood. Mr. Humphries found the equipment to heat shot, and using the fort’s cannon, set the French ship on fire.”

“Indeed,” the King said.

“I was able to convince the French to let my men march down to the ship after they blew up the fort, Your Majesty,” Granger said. The King looked surprised at that. “I had to put a few cannon balls into their customs house to convince them.”

The King laughed at that. “I remember that now. That was a fine piece of work.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Granger said. “Those are the kinds of actions that caused Captain Calvert and me to truly bond as friends, and he was with me throughout our voyage to the Pacific.”

“I understand, now,” the King said. Granger managed to avoid letting out a sigh of relief. There had been much gossip that his relationship with Calvert was more than just one of friendship, so he felt lucky to have the opportunity to dispel those notions to the King. His gig was hailed and the bosun’s chair was hoisted over the side. It returned with Calvert laying on a stretcher, just as Jackson came up over the side.

Granger ignored them all and rushed over to Calvert, who looked weak. “George,” he said, and smiled.

“Francis, I have once again had to pull you out of a small boat at sea,” Granger teased, reminding him of when they’d rescued him from a rowboat in the middle of the Atlantic.

“It is good to see you back, Calvert,” the King said. Calvert’s eyes bulged as he recognized his sovereign.

“Your Majesty!” he exclaimed, then got his wits together. “It is good to be back, sir.”

“Your Majesty, my lord, I need to take Captain Calvert to the sick bay. He was shot in the shoulder, and I must try to remove the bullet,” Jackson said.

“Of course,” Granger said, then focused on Calvert. “I will come see you as soon as I can.” Calvert smiled and gripped his hand, then they hauled him off.

Kingsdale reboarded the ship. “Sir, Captain Calvert evidently compelled the fishing boat to carry him out to sea. He had a loaded pistol aimed at the captain.”

“He was quite determined,” Granger said with a smile.

“I was of a mind to let the fishing boat go, sir,” Kingsdale said.

“You may do so, then retrieve the boats,” Granger ordered, then turned to Austen. “Once the boats have been stowed, please get us on course to Weymouth.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said.

“That was good work,” the King said to him.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Granger said. He was distracted as Winkler approached him.

“My lord, dinner is ready,” he said nervously.

“Excellent,” Granger replied. “Mr. Austen, once we are on course to Weymouth, send the hands to dinner.” Granger would never think about dining without first making sure that his crew was fed.

“Aye aye, my lord,” Austen said.

Granger and the King descended to the main deck, then into his cabin, where the table was set with Granger’s porcelain, silver and crystal. “It is good to see you back safely,” the Queen said to the King, in a way meant to admonish him.

“Lord Brentwood assured me that it would be safe, and he was correct,” the King said. “And because of his actions, one of my officers, who was trying to escape from French perfidy, is now safely aboard this ship.”

“I would like to meet this man that we saved,” Amelia said.

“That is not possible right now, Your Royal Highness,” Granger said gently. “Captain Calvert was wounded, and the surgeon is attending to him.”

“We should take him ashore in Weymouth when we get back,” Sophia objected. “Our doctors can provide him with better care.”

“Your Royal Highness, I fear I must disagree with you, although I do not mean to disparage the Royal surgeons,” Granger said. “Dr. Jackson is a fine surgeon, one of the best, and has saved Captain Calvert’s life before.”

“That name sounds familiar,” the King observed.

“That is because, Your Majesty, you pardoned Dr. Jackson as a favor to me when Sir Tobias Maidstone was attempting to deprive him of his life,” Granger said. “I am indebted to You for Your mercy, for he is the one who saved my life when I caught the fever in Amboyna.”

“How did Captain Calvert come to be imprisoned by the French?” the Queen asked.

Granger took that opportunity to tell them about Calvert’s battle with a crack French frigate, and how he had almost captured her, only to be driven off when a fresh French corvette appeared. He praised Calvert to the heavens for vanquishing such a worthy opponent, then told them of his wound. He explained how on his way back to England, his ship was captured, and he ended up in France. “I would like to hear how he escaped,” Sophia asked. Granger was anxious to hear that story as well.

“When Captain Calvert has recovered, I will escort him ashore to tell you himself, Your Royal Highness,” Granger said. “Assuming that meets with Your Majesty’s approval,” he said to the King.

“We will be glad to have such a gallant officer call on us,” the King said. When dinner was over, Granger returned to the deck to check on their progress.

“She sails almost as fast into the wind as she does with it on her quarter,” Granger said, admiring Endymion’s sailing qualities.

“That she does, my lord,” Austen replied. “We should reach Weymouth within two hours.”

“Excellent,” Granger said. “I will be in the sick bay.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said.

Granger forced himself to walk calmly forward and descended to the main deck using the forward ladder, lest he run into a member of the Royal Family and get delayed. He walked in to find a worried Dr. Jackson wiping blood from his hands onto his apron. “How is he?” Granger demanded.

“He was shot in the left shoulder, my lord. That was the same arm that had been wounded. Fortunately, that injury seems to be healing up nicely. The bullet in his shoulder had lodged in the bone, but I was able to extract it,” Jackson said. Granger just stared at him, waiting for the bad news. “I suspect that the bullet carried a number of particles of cloth and gold lace into his body, and I could not retrieve many of those.”

“Why not?” Granger asked.

“I needed more light and magnifying glasses, my lord,” he said. “And Captain Calvert was too weak for me to probe any further.”

“Once we arrive at Weymouth, you will transfer him to my cabin. He can rest up, and then tomorrow when it is light, you can attempt to rid his body of these foreign objects,” Granger said.

“I will do that, my lord,” Jackson said, then left them alone.

Granger sat down next to Calvert, then leaned in and kissed him gently. He smiled when he felt Calvert’s lips respond. “I fear that I am dead and I have gone to heaven,” Calvert said.

“You know that you are most certainly going to hell, so that cannot be true,” Granger teased.