The Perils of Command (9 page)

Watching as pleasantries were exchanged with the Neapolitan naval officers, Gherson’s eye was taken by a striking-looking woman, a redhead under a parasol, in the background. Standing with her was a tall, slim man, older but with the air of a natural patrician, who stepped forward once the official greetings were completed to introduce himself. Having seen him sketched in those journals the clerk had little doubt as to their identity.

‘Allow me to welcome you as our nation’s ambassador to the Kingdom of Naples. Sir William Hamilton, at your service.’

The ambassador executed a slight bow as Barclay replied, and in doing so exposed to an even clearer view the notorious lady who must be his wife. Painted many times by Romney, hers was an image known to him as well. She was striking enough still to hold his gaze but why did she react so to the words she then overheard?

‘Captain Ralph Barclay, Sir William, of His Britannic Majesty’s Third Rate HMS
Semele
. I bear for you letters from my commanding admiral, Sir William Hotham.’

‘No longer Lord Hood?’

‘No sir, Admiral Hotham has the honour to now hold the command.’

‘Then I must send my congratulations to a man I consider an old acquaintance.’

Lady Hamilton stepped forward, her expression concerned, to tug at her husband’s sleeve and whisper in his ear as he canted his head to listen. Fixated, Gherson looked for a reaction from the old man but his face remained a mask, immobile if you excluded an occasional minimal nod, until finally he looked at Ralph Barclay and smiled.

‘You are, of course, invited to be my guest at the Palazzo Sessa.’ If Emma Hamilton was agitated before she was even more so now as her spouse continued in his even tone. ‘Naturally, my wife will go ahead to prepare while you and I take a turn round some of the more entertaining sights.’

‘At your service, sir,’ Barclay replied.

He said this before catching sight of Gherson. He had looked at the buildings lining the quay, none of them warranting the description of entertaining. The glare he aimed at his clerk was one to ask what the devil he was still doing standing there.

‘The churches are particularly fine,’ the ambassador added. ‘The remaining Norman examples make one feel perfectly at home.’

As he moved away Gherson heard Barclay’s response and, knowing him as well as he did, recognised the manufactured quality of his enthusiasm; he was not a man for places of worship but manners left him no option but to oblige.

‘And as we walk, sir, you can tell me of Admiral Hotham, whom I have met at a royal levee but only when he held the rank of captain, so it is some time past.’

‘A fine officer, sir, and the very best produced by the service.’

‘As has always been said of him.’

Emma Hamilton was gone, moving towards her open coach at what seemed a rather forced pace, one observed by Gherson but not Ralph Barclay. The temptation to tell his employer what he surmised was strong, but then a few hours of ignorance would do Barclay no harm and him some good. To be ashore was a blessing in itself; to have coin to freely spend was even better and Naples must be blessed with some very fine houses of pleasure, manna to a fellow who had been too long at sea for his own comfort.

There was a comical element to the way the barge crew, now fully shod, fell in behind the ambassador, their captain and the ever-watchful Devenow, spruced up like them for the occasion. They were unused to marching and even more discomfited by the leisurely pace of the pair they were now escorting.

Barclay, with his back to them, could not see it and he would have had an apoplexy if he had; far from enhancing his dignity their swaying gait and stumbling walk was attracting smiles and laughs from the locals.

John Pearce listened to Oliver Senyard with increasing incredulity; what he was being told would certainly be justified in blackening his name if it were true. But it was utterly false, which left him wondering: if he was not at fault, who was? There had certainly been a serious breach of the peace and, by the account he was hearing, great physical harm done.

He cast his mind back to the last time he had been in Leghorn, not to rehash any of the unfortunate events he had experienced but for a more general appreciation of what
had been happening in the port at the time. The ships that had been present included HMS
Leander
, in which Henry Digby had been second lieutenant, with that piece of ordure Taberly as his premier.

According to Digby, Taberly was the person who really ran the ship for both served under an indolent captain. He was certainly a man to only allow shore leave to officers and warrants, keeping hands on the ship and letting the pleasures of the port come out to them. The other line of battle ship present had been
Agamemnon
, accompanied by a trio of frigates and that as a case was chalk and cheese.

Nelson was known throughout the fleet, and condemned by some as being too soft, too indulgent of his whole crew, none more so than his midshipmen. He was strong on the notion that granting shore leave was a good thing, easy for him to advance with a wholly volunteer crew raised in the main from his home county of Norfolk, the rest being old hands who had served under him previously.

Not that such knowledge provided any clues. Meanwhile he had this privateer factotum sat opposite him clearly not prepared, any more than Urquhart had been, to buy his claims of ignorance. The sounds of cannon fire turned both their heads to the doorway and Pearce recognised what had now become familiar: signal guns wasting powder as a vessel coming in saluted the port and the old bastion on the shoreline replied.

‘Mr Senyard, I thank you for your company and the way you have enlightened me.’

That got a jaundiced look as the man replied. ‘If you’re ever stuck for a berth seek me out, Mr Pearce. Those I deal with can always use a man aboard who knows how to sail
a ship and is not afraid to act the brigand and will pay a bounty for enrolment.’

Wanting to tell him where to stick such an offer, Pearce just forced out a smile, lifted his hat and walked out of the door, aware that every eye was once more upon him. He was on the quay when he recognised the vessel coming in as HMS
Agamemnon
.

If Emily Barclay was all frozen shock, then her hostess was the exact opposite. Emma Hamilton was good in a crisis; so, normally, was her guest but not one of this kind.

‘My husband, here?’

‘I’ve sent to the servants’ quarters for those fellows Mr Pearce left behind and I have ordered a shay to carry you to a small beach residence my husband keeps for his sea bathing. That will not serve for long but it will do so in an emergency. Now, Emily, I suggest you pack some clothing for a brief stay there.’

‘Do you believe in fate?’

‘I believe, Emily, I have a duty to protect you.’

‘There is not just me,’ Emily replied, a hand going to her still flat belly.

‘You are with child, I know.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I am, like you, a woman and what’s more one who has borne a child. I am no stranger to the signs.’

‘You have had a child?’

‘In another life!’ Emma Hamilton snapped as Michael O’Hagan appeared at the door of the suite of rooms Emily had occupied. The swift explanation of what had occurred and the proposed solution had the Irishman crossing himself and getting a less than wholeheartedly pious response from the ambassador’s wife.

‘Prayer will not serve our needs, haste will. The Chevalier is at present keeping Captain Barclay amused by visiting churches and the like, but he will then bring him to the palazzo. None of you must be here, for the mere sight will tell him all.’

‘Perhaps I should stay and face him,’ Emily interjected softly.

‘In God’s name why, when you have spent so much time running away?’

‘I told John of my intention to return to him, for the sake of the child. If my husband will accept it as his own it will not be tainted for life.’

‘Holy mother of Christ,’ came from O’Hagan, more of a sigh than an exclamation.

‘Which the man who
is
the father is seeking to alter.’ Seeing the reaction forced Emma Hamilton to own up to the conversation they had prior to his departure.

‘He seems to have told you, Lady Hamilton, a great deal regarding our affairs.’

There was no escaping the tone of pique, nor was there any doubt of Emily’s annoyance for it was evident on her pinched face and sharply dilated nostrils.

‘He confided in me his concerns, yes, and why? Because he wishes to rescue you from a life of misery.’

‘He cannot be certain it will be so.’

Emily hesitated then; did she really want to state her reasoning: that with a husband serving in the navy she might not be burdened much with his presence? There was a very distinct possibility of his being at sea more than he was at home, some commissions lasting years, even in peacetime. That in Frome she would be surrounded by her own family and friends, which would serve to make what could be intolerable bearable. That an occasional submission to her brutish husband’s needs was a small price to pay to avoid the taint of bastardy for her child.

Lady Hamilton gave up on Emily and addressed the Irishman, still in the doorway and hat in hand. ‘Your name is Michael, I recall; can you reason with her?’

‘Only to say, Mrs Barclay, that you stand to break John-boy’s heart. That I do know. He came from the other side of Italy for he could not wait to see you, when he might be sailing by this place in a couple of weeks. Sure, that speaks of something more than fondness.’

‘While I would hazard,’ their hostess added forcefully, ‘that he will not give you up easily.’

That hit home and had Emily biting her lip; it brought back to her the words of her lover, the promise that he would no more let her be than Ralph Barclay. A vision of his stalking her in the streets of her hometown made her shudder.

‘Sure, it would please me,’ Michael added, ‘if you was to consider for a bit.’

That led to silence and Emily considered her options until finally she spoke. ‘I will go with you, Michael, to where Lady Hamilton has directed us. But, milady, I do ask this: that
should I wish to confront my husband in order to make up my mind, it will be in your presence.’

‘You have my word. Now pack. I told our coachman to be tardy in returning to the city but that leaves little time.’

The shay was not large enough to accommodate Emily and all the Pelicans, which had Charlie Taverner and Rufus Dommet, as well as one of the Hamilton servants to give directions, jogging alongside her and Michael, with the observation that the poor creature hauling them would have preferred a lighter carcase to bear.

What was called the Bathing House sat on the shore beyond the promontory, in a wide and arcing bay that lay to the west of the Palazzo Sessa. If Emma Hamilton had described it as small it was because she had never been accommodated aboard a ship of war. If it was plain it was also, on two floors, as spacious as a small London house of the artisan type.

The Chevalier obviously took his sea dipping seriously. There was a large cistern on the roof to collect rainwater, that to feed not just the needs of the house but also a plunge pool by which he could wash off the salt after bathing. Added to that he could rest here if he wished, with a comfortable first-floor room for him with a day bed as well as a shelf of books, a functioning kitchen and accommodation for any servants he fetched along with him.

The party, despite the fears of their hostess, had been afforded much time to get clear for Naples was blessed with numerous churches as well as the Cathedral of San Gennaro. Ralph Barclay found himself ushered into one after another, to be shown painted panels, arched roofs replete with heavenly visions, magnificent stained-glass windows and
enough statuary to fill the Horse Guards’ drilling ground, but only after he had been obliged to admire the exterior stonework and carvings.

None of this impressed very much a man who preferred a plain English country building with weathered blocks of grey stone and whitewashed walls inside, lacking any embellishments bar the odd crucifix and a carved pulpit. Indeed, he was bored and finding it hard to disguise the fact, glad when finally the Chevalier led him back to the quayside and his waiting coach.

‘If you wish to fetch along your barge crew, Captain Barclay, I have no objection, though they are scarce necessary. We will, of course, accommodate you tonight and if you wish to name a time, your boat can come for you on the morrow.’

About to agree, Barclay hesitated. ‘I have one request, sir. I have given my clerk a certain task to carry out and I need to know if he has been as zealous as he is required to be. I ask that he be allowed to call upon me at your residence prior to going back aboard.’

‘Of course.’

‘Then, if you will furnish him with directions, my man Devenow will await his return to the quay and tell him to come on to …?’

‘The Palazzo Sessa in Posillipo. If your man engages a hack and requests to be taken to the home of the Madonna
Inglese
he will not need directions.’ To a raised Barclay eyebrow, the ambassador added, ‘It is the name with which the locals favour my wife.’

As a sea officer, Barclay lacked the diplomatic skills of his companion; he could not keep off his face the confusion such an appellation created. How someone called a whore
by many in England could be termed a maternal virgin here escaped him and his response thus lacked any conviction at all.

‘Fully deserved, I’m sure. Now, if you will excuse me I will tell my man of the duty he needs to perform.’

On the journey the Chevalier was the main instigator of conversation, asking about the loss of the captain’s arm and then, Toulon having been mentioned, for his impressions of that event and the subsequent siege. Barclay was quite vehement about it having all been an error and too preoccupied to note the slight surprise that he should say so.

‘Captain Nelson stated it was the most perfect thing.’

‘But Admiral Hotham, a much wiser fellow than Nelson, was dead against it, sir, and he was right to be so. Sadly, Lord Hood ignored him.’

That said the Chevalier fell into a contemplative silence, not broken by a companion who failed to spot there should be a reason, which was of short duration given they were soon at the palazzo.

‘Well?’ Emma demanded, as she faced her husband prior to joining Ralph Barclay on the veranda, where he had been left to sip a cooling glass of lemon water and admire the view.

‘I fear he is as coarse as many of his breed, my dear. I doubt you will take to him. Also, he has sent a man to enquire around in Naples, you can guess what for?’

That had Emma biting her lip; how many times had Emily Barclay shared her open coach these last months and been hailed almost as much as she herself for her beauty? Anyone enquiring would soon be told of her presence as well as the company she kept.

‘He may not find out that she was accommodated with us.’

That got a very severe look and what was tantamount to a command. ‘If he asks after his wife, Emma, we cannot lie to him.’

John Pearce had been welcomed aboard
Agamemnon
like a long-lost brother: it was not a mood that lasted. Horatio Nelson had no sooner had brought to his table the wine they would consume, as usual delivered by his surly servant, than his guest demanded to be told if the Agamemnons had had any hand in the affair of which he was being accused.

Nelson looked so embarrassed it precluded any attempt at denial.

‘Our C-in-C severely castigated me about the affair. I fear Admiral Hotham found my excuse of overenthusiasm and mere high spirits did not answer. The only thing I could do to mitigate his anger was to take the blame for my ship and leave out the fact that we had a trio of frigates with us.’

‘Your midshipmen have a reputation, sir.’

‘I know, but my liberty men were just as involved as
Agamemnon
’s young gentlemen, which goes some way to explaining the level of violence visited on those bullocks. Their injuries were inflicted by hardened tars.’

‘Then I need to know how my name came to be associated with the actions of your men?’

‘While I must tell you, Mr Pearce, that I have no idea. I would, however, point out, and you cannot gainsay this, that one of the number assaulted, indeed the fellow who brought it to the attention of our commanding officer, had, prior to the event, literally crossed swords with you.’

Nelson gave him a look then, head canted and eyebrows
lowered that invited Pearce to relate the details of a fight he had no desire to describe. Nor, and for the same reasons of a degree of shame, did he wish to admit that the bullocks in question had deliberately insulted Emily, then left him with no route to achieve recourse. He took refuge in an untruth that could not be challenged.

‘Yes, and the matter ended there.’

‘That, Mr Pearce, is plainly not the case.’

‘If your men took on these bullocks it was not on my behalf, was it? Outside yourself and Mr Farmiloe I would scarce recognise one of your young gentlemen to speak with and I certainly do not have any acquaintances on your lower deck. Why, in that case, would they take up cudgels on my behalf?’

‘I am at a loss to know how to satisfy you.’

‘I must ask if you enquired into the affair with your men and you must forgive me for the temerity.’

‘I read them the Riot Act, or emphasised the relevant Articles of War at Sunday Service to be precise, but I doubt it made anyone feel remorse. We engage men to be fighters, Mr Pearce, and if they get into such scrapes while off the ship I do not see how it can be stopped. I was a tad more severe with my young gentlemen, of course, than the hands. As budding officers they should know better.’

Nelson smiled, which lit up what had been a rather severe countenance.

‘Threatened them with all sorts, the gunner’s daughter and endless mast headings, but I fear they know me too well to take seriously such exhortations.’

‘I ask to be allowed to question them.’ That had Nelson sitting back and it was clear he was far from keen. ‘I need to
know, sir, for it is my name and my reputation that is on the line.’

‘Mr Pearce …’ The hands spread and the expression was sad; it was obvious, without being stated, that his visitor was a man under a cloud by his very rank and existence.

‘I know that it is not good in the cabins and wardrooms of the navy, sir, but I would not have it blackened further by base rumour. If you will favour me in this I will be forever in your debt.’

‘One I would be most reluctant to call in. Lepée, send for the midshipmen.’

‘All of them?’ was the growled and less than respectful reply.

‘Aye, they have questions to answer.’

‘Being born would serve to damn most of them.’

‘Just do as I ask,’ Nelson sighed. As the servant departed he gave Pearce a look of tolerance well overstretched. ‘Everyone wonders why I keep him, Mr Pearce. Tell me, how can I dismiss a man who, however badly he behaves, once saved my life?’

There being no answer to that both sat sipping wine in silence until the ‘young gentlemen’ appeared, half a dozen youngsters of varying ages. John Pearce had seen many a group of midshipmen gathered, yet it was clear that none of these had become the kind of creature who would ever be stuck in the gun room, thirty years old and rising. Nothing could surely be more depressing than to never have any prospect of making lieutenant but such long-serving souls were a far from uncommon sight.

The questions Pearce asked had them shuffling their feet, until their commander quietly insisted they respond. What
came out lacked clarity to an alarming degree and that forced their inquisitor to be more direct, until a young fellow called Hoste, well into puberty by the spots on his cheeks, chose to answer.

‘We could not abide the insults, sir.’

‘What insults?’

Josiah Nisbet was the one to respond. ‘Made against my stepfather, sir.’

Pearce had seen Nisbet before, on an occasion when Nelson had acted in a far from respectable manner in this very port, drooling over an overripe opera singer at a ball and clearly the worse for wear with drink. He was, of course, known to be lightheaded when it came to wine and no more chaste than any of his peers. Yet to behave badly in front of his wife’s son was risky in the extreme.