The Flag Captain

Taylor jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Long the coast to

th’ east’rd, sir.” Something like pride crossed his tanned face. “Frigate, thirty-six, sir.”

“I see.” Bolitho walked slowly to the empty fireplace and back again. “And you, and men like you, have seized control, is that it? A mutineer?” He saw the man flinch and added harshly, “If you knew me, really knew me, you’d realise I’d not parley with those who betray their trust!”

Taylor said thickly, “If you’d ’ear me out, sir, that’s all I ask. After that you can ’ave me seized an’ ’anged if you so wish it, an’ well I knows that fact.”

Bolitho bit his lip. It had taken courage to come here like this. Courage and something more. This Taylor was no freshly pressed man, no lower deck sea-lawyer. He was a professional seaman. It could not have been easy for him. At any moment during his journey to Falmouth he might have been seen anyway by someone wishing to ingratiate himself with the authorities, and a patrol might even now be marching to the gates.

He said, “Very well. I cannot promise to agree with your views, but I will listen. That is all I can say.”

Taylor relaxed slightly. “We ’ave bin attached to the Channel Fleet, sir, an’ in regular commission for two years. We’ve ’ad little rest, for the fleet is always short o’ frigates, as you well knows. We was at Spit’ead when the trouble started last month, but our cap’n put to sea afore we could show our support with the others.” He bunched his hands tightly and continued bitterly, “I must say it, sir, so’s you’ll understand. Our cap’n’s a ’ard man, an’ th’ first lieutenant’s so taken with abusin’ the people there’s ’ardly one aboard whose back ’as not bin ripped open by th’ cat!”

Bolitho gripped his hands behind him. Stop him now, before he says any more. By listening so far you have implicated yourself in God knows what.

Instead he said coldly, “We are at war, Taylor. Times are hard for officers as well as seamen.”

Taylor eyed him stubbornly. “When the trouble broke at Spit’ead it was agreed by th’ delegates of the Fleet that we would go to sea an’ fight if th’ Frogs came out. There’s not a single Jack who’d be disloyal, sir. But some o’ the ships ’ave bad officers, sir, there’s none can say otherwise. There’s some where no pay or bounty ’as bin paid for months an’ the ’ands near starvin’ on foul food! When Black Dick,” he flushed, “beg pardon, sir, I mean Lord ’Owe, spoke to our delegates it was all settled. ’E agreed to our requests as best ’e could.” He frowned. “But we was at sea by then an’ ’ad no part in the settlement. In fact, our cap’n ’as bin worse instead o’ better! An’ that’s God’s truth, on my oath!”

“So you’ve taken the ship?”

“Aye, sir. Until justice is agreed on.” He looked at the floor. “ We ’eard of the orders to join this new squadron under Vice-Admiral Broughton. It’ll maybe mean years away from England. It’s not fair that our wrongs should stay unrighted. We knew Admiral Broughton at Spit’ead, sir. ’E’s said to be a good officer, but would go ’ard with any more trouble.”

“And if I say nothing can be done, what then?”

Taylor looked him in the eyes. “There’s many aboard who swear we’ll ’ang anyway. They want to sail the ship to France an’ trade ’er for their freedom.” He hardened his jaw. “But those like me say otherwise, sir. We just want our rights like the boys at Spit’ead got.”

Bolitho eyed him narrowly. How much did Taylor know of the other unrest at the Nore? He might be genuine, or could be the tool of someone more experienced in revolt. There was little doubt that what he had said of his ship was true.

He said, “Have you harmed anyone aboard?”

“None, sir, you’ve my word.” Taylor spread his hands pleadingly. “If you could tell ’em that you’d put our case to the admiral, sir, it’d make a world o’ difference! “Something like a sad smile showed on his rough features. “I think some of the lieutenants an’

th’ master are a might glad it’s ’appened, sir. It’s bin a terrible un’appy ship.”

Bolitho’s mind moved rapidly. Vice-Admiral Broughton might be in London. He could be anywhere. Until he hoisted his flag Rear-Admiral Thelwall was still in command, and he was too sick to be involved in anything like this.

There was Captain Rook, and the officer commanding the local garrison. There were probably dragoons still at Truro, and the port admiral thirty miles away in Plymouth. And all were equally useless at this moment of time.

If a frigate was indeed handed over to the enemy it might act as a general signal to the men at the Nore, who were still hovering on the brink of mutiny. It might even be seen as the thing to do when all else had failed. A chill ran down his spine. If the French got to hear of it they would act without delay to put an invasion into force. The thought of a confused demoralised fleet being destroyed because he alone had failed to act was unthinkable, no matter what the consequences might be later.

He asked shortly, “What else were you told to explain?”

“The Auriga’s anchored in Veryan Bay. Some eight miles from ’ere. Do you know of it, sir?”

Bolitho smiled grimly. “I am a Cornishman, Taylor. Yes, I know it well.”

Taylor licked his lips. Maybe he had been expecting instant arrest. Now that Bolitho was listening to him he seemed unable to get the words out fast enough.

“If I’m not back afore sunset they’ll make sail, sir. We bin approached by an armed cutter more’n once an’ we’ve told ’em to stand off, that we’re anchored to carry out some repairs.”

Bolitho nodded. It was not unusual for smaller ships to take refuge in that particular bay. It was quiet and fairly well sheltered in anything but severe weather. Whoever had steered this mutiny to its present state certainly knew what he was doing.

Taylor continued, “There’s a little inn on the west side o’ th’ bay, sir.”

Bolitho said, “The Drake’s Head. A smugglers’ haunt, to all accounts.”

“Maybe, sir.” Taylor watched him uncertainly. “But if you’ll come there tonight an’ meet our delegates, we can settle matters there an’ then like.”

Bolitho turned away. How easy it all sounded. And what was the Auriga’s captain supposed to think about it? Merely pack his chest and leave? The simple reasoning probably seemed sound enough between decks, but it would cut little cloth when it reached higher authority.

But the most important and urgent thing was to stop the ship being taken and given to the enemy. Bolitho had no doubt that her captain was all and more than Taylor had described. There were enough of such petty tyrants throughout the Service, and he had even assumed an earlier command himself because of the previous captain’s callousness.

Anyway, he could not hide his head and ignore it.

He said, “Very well.”

“Thank you, sir.” Taylor nodded vehemently. “You must come alone, but for a servant. They says they’ll kill the cap’n if there’s any sort o’ treachery.” He hung his head. “I’m sorry, sir, it was none o’ my wantin’. All I wished was to end me days in one piece, with a pot o’ prize money at th’ end o’ it to open a little inn maybe, or a chandler’s.”

Bolitho looked at him gravely. Instead, you’ll probably end on a yardarm, he thought.

Taylor said suddenly, “They’ll listen to you, sir. I just know it. With a new cap’n the ship’d be ready to live again.”

“I will promise nothing. Lord Howe’s pardon should certainly have applied to your ship, however…” He faced the other man steadily. “It could go hard with you, as I expect you know.”

“Aye, sir. But when you’ve lived with misery for so long it is a chance we must face up to.”

Bolitho walked to the door. “I will ride to the inn at dusk. If what you have told me is true, I will do what I can to bring the matter to a rightful conclusion.”

The relief on Taylor’s face faded as Bolitho added flatly, “If on the other hand this is some delaying tactic to give your people more time to dispose of the ship, be in no doubt of the consequences. It has been done before, and the culprits have always been run to ground.” He paused. “Eventually.”

The man knuckled his forehead and hurried out into the passage.

Ferguson watched him go with obvious distaste.

“Is it all well, sir?”