Ligurian Mission: The Ninth Carlisle & Holbrooke Naval Adventure by Chris Durbin

Author:Chris Durbin [Durbin, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2021-03-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

After The Battle

Tuesday, Tenth of June 1760.

Dartmouth, at Sea. Villa-Franca northwest 10 leagues.

‘Thank you, Mister Kemp. That was all that I managed to say before I left him to it. By then the gap was opening and it was clear that we would live to fight another day. Perhaps it’s wrong of me to say that I was astonished, but nothing in that young man’s previous conduct had led me to believe him capable of an act such as that.’

Gresham chuckled deep in his throat. It was not often that his captain opened up to him in this manner, but it had been a trying day – to say the least – and now that the enemy ships had all disappeared over the western horizon, they could at last lower their guard and start attending to the damage.

‘Well, I had no opinion of him at all, sir. He didn’t mess with the sea officers and he lived entirely in poor James Towser’s shadow. You know, you told me once that you believe that most men will surprise their peers when they are given responsibility. Well, so it seems with Mister Kemp. I have it in mind to invite him to join my mess, despite his rank, if you have no objections, sir.’

‘Certainly, please do. I can think of no better way of marking such a heroic act. I hope that’s one more of my concerns lifted, although I will still have to apply to Admiral Saunders for a new detachment commander when we meet the squadron.’

‘Indeed, sir, he’s far too inexperienced to command in a ship-of-the-line. I expect there are half a dozen better qualified men spread through the squadron, each just hoping for such an opportunity.’

Carlisle looked out of the stern windows at the setting sun. The ship was alive with the sound of hammering and every man who could splice a rope or sew a sail was busy making good the day’s damage.

‘It’s taught me one lesson at least,’ Carlisle said, still gazing astern, ‘I should take more care of the marines in my ship. Had Kemp been the lowliest of the midshipman, or one of the volunteers even, I’d have known him ten times as well as I did. There’s a tendency among captains to view the marines as a sort of tenant unit within the ship. I see now how wrong that is.’

Gresham nodded his agreement as he sipped Carlisle’s Madeira.

‘You and I both disregarded him, sir, I’m sorry to say. But do you know, Sergeant Wilson knew his worth. I spoke to him about Kemp two days ago and he said the boy would do well. He was right!’

There was a knock at the door and the unnaturally sombre face of Midshipman Young peered into the cabin. He removed his hat and took a hesitant step into the inner sanctum.

‘Beg your pardon, sir… sir,’ he said bowing first to Carlisle and then with an excruciating twist of his body, to the first lieutenant, ‘Mister Wishart begs to inform you that the hands are mustered, and the bodies have been brought up.

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