The general dislike of chaplains, though, was based on something much simpler: there were so few of them that although ships of the line had in theory to carry them, only one in three had a chaplain: in wartime parsons, it seemed, preferred a rectory or vicarage where a fire blazed of a winter's night. The ship of the line with a chaplain was usually carrying a clerical friend of the captain. Frigates, with a ship's company a third of the size of a ship of the line, rarely saw one; Ramage could not remember a single case.
Now, however, with peace, were chaplains going to flock to sea? And what on earth made the Reverend Percival Stokes apply to join the Calypso? He was probably the penurious friend of a friend of one of their Lordships. Ramage saw an endless vista of members of the ship's company complaining: in one of the King's ships carrying a chaplain it was more restful, to say the least, being Church of England.
Well, Mr Stokes had better be a careful man: the Calypso's first lieutenant was a Highland Scot and certainly Low Church; the master was, surprisingly, a free-thinker; the single midshipman an Italian Catholic. And the captain refused to discuss religion with anyone.
The next two names in the margin of Nepean's letter had 'surveyor' after them, followed by two draughtsmen, an artist and a botanist. A previous letter from Nepean had told Ramage that six miners and six masons were being sent to join the ship's company, volunteers who should be entered in the Calypso's books as supernumeraries for both victuals and wages. Several tons of bricks and materials for mortar were being brought by hoy from Maidstone, and shovels, plasterers' trowels and wooden buckets had already arrived on board. The Calypso was going to be sailing well down on her marks: he was under orders to provision for five months - only possible because the Calypso was to carry a peacetime quantity of powder and shot - and water for three. There would be difficulties if the map of Trinidade was wrong about the presence of fresh water ...
Ramage pushed aside Nepean's letter and reached for the one which had arrived from London at the same time. He recognized his father's writing and broke the seal. The Earl had written:
I called on Hawkesbury, and must confess the only real information I received from him was extraordinary enough for me to note down. Up to yesterday, passports for visits to France had been requested by five dukes, three marquises, thirty-seven earls and countesses, eighty-five viscounts, seventeen barons and forty-one elder sons and heirs. This comprises a third of the House of Lords, so if Bonaparte wishes to play a trick he could tear up the Treaty and intern the peers.
Hawkesbury mentioned these figures to justify the advice he gave Gianna. When I pointed out that although one third of the House of Lords, and their women, were visiting France, all were British subjects and not one of them was the ruler of a nation which Bonaparte still occupied and obviously intended to keep.
He told me I worried unnecessarily, but when he said Lord St Vincent held the same views as himself and was already preparing proposals to place before the Cabinet for paying off two-thirds of the Navy's strength, quite apart from a comprehensive plan for scrapping many older ships of the line and frigates, I must confess I lost my temper.
I pointed out that the newspapers carried reports that French transport ships were busy at places like Brest and Rochefort embarking troops, and ships of war were commissioning, and the same was true for Dutch and Spanish ports. He protested that Otto had already explained that French troops were intended to subdue a rising among the blacks in St Domingo.
I pointed out that such a powerful force could be used for recapturing Trinidad; that now we had just returned all his sugar islands except Guadeloupe, Bonaparte would be sending out large garrisons as soon as possible, and may plan attacks on our own islands. This wretched man Jenks - I can think of him only by that name - then produced the excuse used by all political scoundrels: it was Cabinet policy, he said. I took my leave; it was as much as I could do to stop myself rapping him across the shins with my cane. When I think of all our seamen and soldiers who died in the drunken projects of Dundas, and the risk at which sober idiots like Jenks put people like Gianna, I find myself ashamed of my country. Are we so impoverished of talented men that we are reduced to ministers like Addington and Jenks?
Ramage locked his father's letter away in a drawer and slid Nepean's among the pages of a book labelled 'Captain's Orders - Received'. With its companion volume, 'Captain's Orders - Issued', it was also kept under lock and key. All the years he had been at sea, such volumes were stored in a canvas bag secured by a drawstring and weighted with a bar of lead in the bottom. Now there was peace, a locked drawer in his desk was enough. That, and the use of lights when under way at night, would be the most obvious signs that Britain was at peace.
Quite deliberately Ramage had hurried over the last few paragraphs of his father's letter. They described the violent arguments Gianna had had with Paolo. Or, rather, the violent arguments Paolo had had with her. Ramage had said nothing to the boy when giving him leave to go to London. According to the Earl, Gianna had not mentioned her plans to her nephew for a couple of days. She had then chosen anafternoon when the Earl and Countess were out paying a social call. They had returned to find an outraged Paolo waiting for them, almost distraught and appealing to them to forbid his aunt to leave England. Paolo had immediately seen the dangers, though he thought they came mostly from certain members of his family who had remained in Volterra and, by fawning on Bonaparte, gained power they certainly would not give up to the Marchesa arriving back in Volterra on her own.And Paolo knew enough of the realities of Italian politics, where a dagger was more commonly used than a speech in the senate, to realize that nothing short of a few battalions would suffice to protect her. Traitors, he had told his aunt, especially related by blood, were not fish that willingly swam into the net.
The sentry outside the cabin door reported that Mr Southwick had arrived, and Ramage called for him to be sent in. The old master sat down as Ramage waved him to the only armchair, and skimmed his hat on to the settee.
'The dockyard chippies,' he said crossly. 'They work more slowly and make more mess than a band of monkeys. These extra cabins will never be finished. Their foreman as good as said five guineas would see them all completed by Friday, otherwise it would take a couple of weeks.'
Ramage stared at Southwick. ''As good as said?" Was he openly asking for money?'
'Yes, I was being polite, sir. His actual words were, "Tell your captain that five guineas will see it all finished by Friday: otherwise we'll still be here a week on Friday."'
Ramage sighed and picked up the papers still on his desk. "The First Lord knows there's corruption in dockyards and throughout the Navy Board,' he said as he locked the papers in a drawer. 'The trouble is I can hardly bother him with the case of a corrupt foreman carpenter. Still, by next Monday I intend to be at sea. The extra people join the ship this Thursday - in three days' time.'
'Perhaps if you saw the dockyard Commissioner, sir . . .' Southwick's tone showed he was simply being polite.
'I can tell you exactly what the Commissioner would say,' Ramage said bitterly. He thought for a minute or two, saw and understood the glint in Southwick's eye, and nodded at the master.
'As you know, I have secret orders I can't yet open. The general orders I have, though, mean that we must sail as soon as possible. The ship's company are back from leave, we have the miners and bricklayers, and we are provisioned and watered. If the cabins were completed, we could even sail on Friday; we'd be clear of the Nore by Friday night...'