Authors: David Donachie
‘What a low bunch you tars are,’ Lipton sneered in a way that indicated he knew he had hit a brick wall. ‘Scum to my mind, risen from foul bilge, low-bred scullys to a man.’
‘I think you should be grateful, sir, that none of my officers are within hearing!’
‘What? You mean I might face a challenge from men of the calibre of that cur, Pearce. Would he was here for if he was I’d find a pistol and put a ball in him and between his eyes.’
‘Pearce, what is he to you?’
Lipton half raised an arm, wincing as he did so. ‘You will not have observed sir, given you’re too much taken with female flesh and no doubt your gonads as well as your belly, but I cannot raise this peg any higher than you can now perceive.’
Hotham, confused, merely shrugged, ignoring the insults, which on another occasion would have seen Lipton
hauled before his military superiors and forced to apologise.
‘That, I have to tell you, is to be laid at the door of your Lieutenant Pearce, who when we duelled, acted in a despicable manner that has left me a cripple and no longer any good to my regiment, one I would hazard is common among your officers.’
‘Duelled, you and Pearce duelled?’
‘I did, sir, he did not. He played a low trick that no gentleman could have contemplated. If you doubt the measure of the man ask the fellow naval officer he struck immediately after he had sliced me? Added to that, I have every reason to believe he was responsible for the assault on my officers who were dragged from our quarters by a rampaging mob very shortly after our encounter. The two events cannot be unconnected.’
‘Major Lipton,’ Hotham protested, seeking time to think, ‘I have already alluded to the unsuitable nature of the place you have chosen to accost me—’
‘Where else would I be granted an opportunity?’
This bad-tempered bullock could not see into Hotham’s thoughts and if he had been so able it is doubtful if enlightenment would have ensued. He could not know of the impact the mere mention of the Pearce name had on the admiral’s peace of mind – the swine had yet to return to the fleet and every day of his absence seemed to increase Hotham’s anxieties – but the emollient tone that he was now subject to did surprise him.
‘I will give it to you, sir, by inviting you to come aboard HMS
Britannia
on the morrow at your own convenience. If, as it turns out, I have dealt shabbily with your complaint you will have a chance to air it fully.’
‘I must be assured, sir, that there is some point to this.’
‘Oh be assured, major, there is a very significant point,’ Hotham replied as the first strains of a warming up orchestra came wailing out of the auditorium. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, the Governor has caught my eye to tell me he is returning to our box so I must be about my diplomatic duties.’
As Hotham turned away, he noticed Toby Burns not more than a few feet distant. The little toad had had his head cocked at a curious angle and one that told the admiral that he could have witnessed what had been a less than discreet exchange, a mystery to most of an audience without English.
‘How much of that did you overhear, Burns?’
‘What, sir?’ came the surprised response, delivered entirely without conviction.
‘You would do well to keep your counsel if you did hear anything and do I have to say that eavesdropping on the conversation of a senior officer is behaviour of the lowest kind.’
‘Which I would never dream of doing, sir, I promise.’
‘Not worth more than a pie crust!’
With that Hotham stamped off, unaware that behind his back Toby Burns was smirking, partly from pleasure at the thought of someone shooting John Pearce but also from the fact that he had been an avid visitor to the punchbowl. He had also quite obviously discomforted Hotham, which was as rare as it was cheering. The need to go back and listen to the caterwauling of some very fat people was less so and he decided to stay put.
The eagerness of Lipton to make his case was evidenced by the early hour of his arrival, which left Admiral Hotham scant time to complain once more about Pearce and his whereabouts, this from a clerk in the throes of serious debilitation, a consequence of his nocturnal excess.
‘Still no news, sir,’ Toomey rasped, thinking the name was a curse. ‘Given his extended absence it may be that he has foundered and is lost, or perhaps he ran into an enemy vessel and was taken.’
He waited while his admiral contemplated those two scenarios, neither of which was unknown within the service. The sea was a fickle beast and the annals of the navy were filled with vessels that had simply disappeared. Added to which if
Larcher
had been taken the French would be in no rush to make known such a success and no other enemy, like a privateer, would make the information known at all.
‘Bad pennies have a way of surviving, Toomey, look at Burns, so if you raise my hopes it only does so marginally. Best show Major Lipton in and tell my steward to fetch a bottle of claret, nothing too fine, after all he hardly merits it. You, I require to go ashore and make enquiries as to whether Pearce was responsible for what happened to Lipton and his officers.’
Having looked away Hotham did not see the grimace on Toomey’s face; he wanted nothing more than to retire to a hammock and sleep off his hangover.
‘If he was the instigator it will not be the service that pays if there’s a bill but him.’
‘He’s unlikely to admit to it, sir.’
‘Aye, deceit comes easily to him,’ the admiral growled. ‘No good asking the Agamemnons either, they would lie
through their teeth. Best be on your way, Toomey, and I charge you not to seek to cure your ills with any more drink, do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes, sir,’ the clerk rasped and nor would he unless there was someone left ashore to listen to his supposed indiscretions and pay the bill.
Hotham stood to receive Lipton, a singular courtesy given their respective service ranks – a Vice Admiral equalled a Lieutenant General – and invited him to sit immediately before asking him to reprise the events of the duel, how it had come about and how it had ended. The details were delivered in a sour tone that the admiral began to see was Lipton’s normal mode of comportment – the man was bad tempered by nature – which led him to assume that the contest with Pearce had not been his first time out, a fact established by a simple enquiry.
There was a boastful quality to the major’s tales of duelling as well to the account he was given regarding Pearce; Lipton wanted his listener to be in no doubt who was the superior swordsman and by a large margin, that he had toyed with his opponent rather than finish him off quickly, this to entertain his fellow soldiers who formed an audience. If his tone was commonly irascible it rose to a wholly more ill-tempered level when it came to the way Pearce had bested him, getting agreement from Hotham, even if he felt that facing death – and by the way Lipton described his intentions the threat of that was real – he might have done the same.
‘You say, Major, that, while you were being attended to by the surgeon, Lieutenant Pearce struck a fellow naval officer?’ Lipton nodded. ‘Surely not his second?’
‘No, another low guttersnipe who had come along—’
‘Sir,’ Hotham interrupted, leaning forward to make his point. ‘If you wish for a sympathetic hearing from me then you must cease to insult the members of my service. Indeed if you continue to do so this interview is over!’
‘I withdraw any remark which may cause offence.’
With his high colour and disdainful look, the admiral took that to be a lie. ‘Did this officer have name?’
‘Taberly of HMS
Leander
. My companions had to get the fellow back to Leghorn since Pearce and his party abandoned him.’
‘And who was it who seconded for Pearce?’
‘Fellow called Digby, I believe from the same vessel. But can I move you on, sir, to what happened subsequently and the subject of my complaint?’
‘By all means do so, Major Lipton,’ Hotham replied, though he had to suppress his feelings of distraction, not really being interested. It was the name of Digby that filled his mind so he missed a good deal of what the man was saying, only really perking up when Lipton made mention of the attempt by Pearce to challenge every one of his inferior officers on the day preceding their ducking.
‘Had a trollop in tow and one of two of my men saw fit to let her know of her station. Set the sod off good and proper.’
‘Trollop?’
Lipton nodded. ‘Damn fine-looking filly by all accounts and English, looked quite the innocent which, of course, she could not be.’ That was followed by a snorted laugh. ‘Pearce was set on defending her honour, as if she possessed any.’
‘Do you have a description?’
That got a shake of the head. ‘Never saw the wench myself. Now, sir, to my account of the monies expended on the medical bills, as well as our extended requirement for accommodation at the
Pensione d’Ambrosio
, which you already possess?’
Hotham was just about to shout for Toomey when he recalled he had sent him ashore. Thankfully he had the other clerk. ‘I ask you to wait on the main deck and the funds will be brought to you. Now, Major Lipton, if our business is quite concluded?’
Lipton looked at the claret bottle, half full, as was his own glass and he flushed a deeper red again. He was being dismissed like a man of no account when courtesy demanded he be allowed to stay till the wine was finished. Hotham sensed his hesitation as could see plainly his reaction.
‘You will understand, sir, that I have a fleet to run.’
‘I swear, Toomey, he would have thrown the wine in my face if he’d had his coin. Angry is not the word.’ Clearly amused by the recollection his next enquiry was quite jovial. ‘So what did you discover?’
‘There’s no indication that Pearce was involved in the disturbance. Tavern owner I queried said it was all young blue coats and common seaman. Weren’t easy to get that given he spoke little English but I did uncover something else, sir.’ The raised eyebrow invited disclosure. ‘According to the Navy Board captain that oversees the victualing, Pearce was in the company of a lady …’
‘Lipton told me as much.’
‘Did he tell you that she was recognised by some of our officers, given she was present in Toulon and helping to run the hospital?’
‘No.’
‘It was Captain Barclay’s wife!’
‘What!’
‘There’s no mistake, sir, it was her to the life.’
‘Is she still in Leghorn?’
‘Unlikely, given no one has had sight of her for weeks.’
‘What was Pearce doing escorting Ralph Barclay’s wife around Leghorn, Toomey?’
‘What indeed, sir?’
‘The journey had many pleasing moments, Sir William, and I have to say the coastline was most dramatic, with scenic aspects that would delight any man who could apply a brush to canvas. If we did not eat as well as we might, we did find sustenance enough to sustain us and the folk we came across were eager to aid us on our way. As to my crew, they are a fine bunch and as adaptable as is ever the British tar.’
John Pearce found the lies coming easily; he was sat on a shaded terrace of the Palazzo Sessa overlooking the wide Bay of Naples, fully bathed and dressed in new linen. His arm having been passed as healed by a surgeon it now held a cooling drink and life felt restored in more ways than one. What was the point of telling the British Ambassador of the misery he had suffered leading the crew of HMS
Larcher
along that barren and rocky coast?
Why burden him with the tales of a ship’s company that began the journey disgruntled and became more so with
every day that passed, complaining of everything from the heat of the day, the biting insects at night and the blisters on feet unused to footwear?
What good would it do to tell him that the subjects of King Ferdinand were, when not being outrageously rapacious, the surliest bunch of scoundrels he had ever encountered out with an English Gaol and that he had been obliged to threaten violence on more than one occasion to make any progress at all?
Such untruths were as much for his own good as that of the Sir William Hamilton; Pearce had no desire to reprise the many incidents that had seen he and his men forced into wide detours to avoid trouble, of food bought at prices so outrageous that he had allowed his men to plunder pens, storehouses and chicken coops, the only plentiful thing available to them the abundance of water from a multitude of fresh mountain fed springs.
There had been, as he had anticipated, fishing villages but they were far from prosperous places, a few ramshackle huts with suspicious men and even more distrustful women, who, if they had reached anything above two decades of age were universally ugly creatures. The young males, even if those of tender years, sought to steal everything they could while the girls, if there were any, must have been kept well hidden for fear they would be ravaged by these armed strangers who spoke a heathen and incomprehensible tongue.
Pearce was sure it was thanks to those arms, muskets and cutlasses, that they had survived for the wilds of the region, and they were that, seemed to lack any evidence of law. The folk lived in primitive and poverty stricken communes – there
were no towns of any size until they reached Agropoli – and the impression had been unavoidable that each one preyed upon its neighbours at every opportunity.
‘I must say, it seems Mrs Barclay held up passing well.’
There was a definite look in Sir William Hamilton’s eye then, the kind a man has when referring to a lady whose looks have entertained his imagination. Pearce knew the ambassador to be well into his sixties yet obviously his appreciations of the fair sex had not suffered from his longevity. Nor did his attitude cause offence; he was a man of a calibre that a coming-of-age John Pearce had encountered in Paris, where men of parts, if they discerned and admired beauty did not indulge in the English habit of hypocritical denial and disguised approbation.
‘And here comes the very lady of whom we speak,’ Hamilton said, rising from his chair, ‘looking more radiant than ever.’
Emily, as she came onto the terrace, was not alone. With her was Lady Hamilton and given she was a famous beauty it was impossible not to contrast them, one past her full bloom but still very striking, Emily in the first stages of full maturity, well dressed for the first time in a month and, in receipt of a proper
toilette
and expertly dressed hair, simply stunning.
The dress had to be one of Emma Hamilton’s and given the difference in their size a needle must have been swiftly employed to have it fit Emily’s less fulsome figure, not least in the area of the bosom, which the ambassador’s wife, supremely well-endowed in that regard, was much prone to display and was doing so now. Emily had chosen to be more discreet with some strategically placed lace.
‘Lieutenant Pearce has been at pains to tell how eager he is to get back to his duties with the fleet. Looking at you of this moment, Mrs Barclay I cannot but rate him as quite mad.’
‘Careful, husband,’ his wife responded, but not with any real indignation, this while Emily blushed slightly.
Having observed them previously Pearce knew them to be happy in their relationship, Hamilton quite ready to accept that being married to a beautiful woman brought with the attention of a raft of admirers. One such was Nelson, who had charged Pearce with the delivery of a letter to Lady Hamilton, one she had not sought to keep secret from Sir William, who seemed more amused by the action than upset.
Likewise his relationship with Emily Barclay. The fact that she was a married woman and separated from her husband was not referred to and in no way was she made to feel awkward by her estate or the obvious relationship she had with John Pearce. Naples was more lax than London in such matters by some measure; indeed, according to Emma Hamilton, irregular couplings were the norm rather than the exception.
Thinking briefly on the two men the contrast was palpable; Hamilton the urbane diplomat at ease in the salon and the company of the fair sex, Nelson a restless sailor whom he had seen in the company of a rather busty opera singer at a ball in Leghorn. Two impressions remained from that observation, the first that Nelson had difficulty in holding his drink, the second that he had scant knowledge of women.
‘While I am not eager to have you depart, Lieutenant, I
am looking forward to having Emily here as a companion in your absence.’
John Pearce smiled at Lady Hamilton then, but inwardly he was less happy. If the subject of what was to happen to Emily had not been a constant these last troubled weeks, it had been raised more than once. She still thought it best to return to England while he was stuck with a duty he had to perform, namely to get the crew of HMS
Larcher
back where they belonged, added to which he had to find a means by which they could live, wherever that might be, on nothing more than his present pay. It would be easier in Italy than England, but a lieutenant’s stipend would not provide any luxury even here.
‘I do not intend to be absent long, Lady Hamilton.’
‘Nor would I want you to be,’ she replied, with a coquettish tilt of the head, one that was not missed by his own paramour. ‘Handsome naval officers are a rare commodity in Naples, entertaining fellows in uniform even less so.’
Pearce saw Emily’s nostrils tighten, a sign he knew of displeasure. Could she not see what was obvious to him, that what Lady Hamilton had said was mere wordplay, something he suspected she employed with most of the men she encountered? She would have used it on Horatio Nelson and he would have no doubt misread it; he did not, but it was yet another example of Emily’s lack of experience of the world, which if it could be endearing could also be exasperating.
‘When I get to the fleet, Lady Hamilton, I will sort you out a dozen or so have them come and worship at your feet.’
‘And trough it at my table,’ the ambassador said, though it was imparted with good humour. ‘I swear I have never seen any eat like seafarers.’
‘Which reminds me to ask you, sir, for an account of the expenses I and my crew have incurred. I am sure the navy will happily meet them.’
The good humour evaporated. ‘Then you know of a service that is a stranger to me, sir. When it comes to being tardy in settling their accounts, they have a labyrinth into which they are prone to disappear.’
John Pearce was tempted to ask then, if he had got
Larcher
to Naples, would he have funded her repair; it did not seem appropriate to do so but he did feel constrained to make an offer of his own, as being the gentlemanly thing to do, albeit he knew his available funds to be already overstretched with commitments.
‘Give me an account, sir, and I will present it in the right quarter. And if they decline to meet it I will see it as a personal debt.’ That being waved aside by the ambassador, no doubt on the grounds that he doubted Pearce could meet such an obligation, his guest added. ‘And of course I will meet any expenses incurred while Mrs Barclay awaits my return.’
‘Nonsense, sir, she is an English lady in need of support and that is a charge upon my duties. Now, I am due at the Royal Palace—’
‘While I,’ Emma Hamilton interjected, ‘must take my daily stroll in the English Gardens.’ Waiting for her to issue an invitation to accompany her, something he had done previously, Pearce was surprised by what followed, but not for any length of time. ‘Which will leave you and Mrs
Barclay with the run of the palazzo, will it not? Do feel free to treat it as your own.’
If Emily Barclay had suffered a slight blush before she went bright red now and was, once they were alone in no mood to take up the offer which Emma Hamilton had more than hinted at.
‘She is a woman with a past, John, and I have to say that is apparent in her present behaviour.’
Tempted to say something about people in glass houses, Pearce put that thought to one side. ‘Everyone has a past.’
‘Not like hers! How can you burden me with staying in the company of such a woman?’
‘That, of I may say so, does you no credit. I grant she has a past, though I am mined to ask if all of the sins laid at her door are true.’
‘It is said she was a common whore.’
‘If she was ever that I would hazard she was an uncommon one.’
‘I fail to see the distinction.’
‘Whatever her background she has made a great deal of herself.’
‘By marrying a man twice her age.’ As soon as that was out of her mouth, Emily realised that it was a mistaken allusion; had she not done the same? Slightly flustered and decidedly embarrassed she sought to cover it with denigrations. ‘Don’t be fooled by all that overt kindness, John, for there are cat’s claws at the back of it. What you see when we are with either yourself or Sir William is not what I am exposed to in private, woman to woman.’
‘Which is?’ he asked wearily.
‘Her notion of liking me is mere pretence. Every word
she utters has a double meaning and if at first it sounds like fawning there is a less flattering allusion within her words. I suspect jealousy and not just of me but of any woman she feels challenged by.’
‘But you are not challenging her.’
‘You think you are so wise, John Pearce,’ Emily responded, with a tone that made a mockery of the words, ‘with your knowledge of the world, which you are forever reminding me is far greater than my own—’
‘I do not remind you.’
‘You do,’ came the reply, with a catch in the throat to go with it, ‘and all that says to me is you are unaware of it.’
Pearce moved towards her and put his hands on her shoulders, feeling them shake as he looked down into her dampening eyes, his voice low as he asked. ‘Are you frightened, Emily?’
A nod and a sniffle. ‘People will talk of me as they do of her, John, and I could not bear to be so compared.’
‘Can I tell you what I see?’ Pearce did not wait for her to respond. ‘I see a lady much condescended to by those who know something of her past, woman especially who will treat her the way you are accusing her of treating you.’
‘So you are taking her part?’
‘No, Emily, but from what I know of Lady Hamilton—’
‘You seem to know a great deal.’
‘She came from humble beginnings and has made something of herself.’
‘By what route?’
‘If it was the bedchamber so be it. How would you have her make her way with nothing but her beauty as an asset? I admit I found myself uncomfortable in her company at
first, for she has a manner that is that of the siren. She wishes every man she meets to admire her and demonstrate it to be so.’
‘Do you admire her?’
‘In many ways I do.’ He felt the shoulders stiffen. ‘But not in that way. I wish my father could have met her for she is a perfect example of what he used to harangue his listeners about, that they had it within themselves to be masters of their own fate.’
‘Or mistresses,’ Emily said, and not as a kindly pun.
‘Emma Hamilton did not accept that the station into which she was born should be one in which she should remain. If her path to her present position is strewn with less than salubrious acts then she had transcended them now. She is the wife of a baronet and ambassador, speaks Italian, French and German, can play the harpsichord with some skill and keep hanging on her every word men who should know better.’
She looked up to say something unpleasant, only to see her lover smiling. ‘I am not one of the latter, I am a man who only has regard for you and I am also one who is to shortly depart this palazzo, which I would hate to do with you and I in dispute.’
‘How soon?’
‘I have sent word for the crew to assemble on the quay before the Palazzo Reale. Sir William has bespoken and paid for a boat to take us back to the fleet. You have no idea how tempted I am to send them off on their own, but I cannot and even you must be aware of my responsibility. I have lost a ship and someone has to be accountable for that.’
‘If you did not return you would be seen as a coward fearful of facing censure?’
There was dispirited quality to that remark, which Pearce felt he had to counter. ‘It is not just for my pride, Emily, it is that I have to be able when I see a mirror to look myself in the eye. You cannot ask me to act dishonourably.’
‘Am I asking?’
‘No, but time is short and if I want to take away with me anything, it is the feeling of how much regard we have for each other.’
‘We need to think of the future, John.’
The reply she got was low and husky as he pulled her unresisting body into his own. ‘As of this moment, I cannot think of any time but now.’
It was necessary to wait for the return of Sir William and Lady Hamilton before he could depart and Pearce did not miss the look she gave Emily and he, which followed by the slightest of smiles. There was nothing in his demeanour to indicate that they had taken advantage of her none too subtle offer. Again, it was Emily’s reddening cheeks that gave the game away.