‘How very, very painful,’ said Jack. ‘I hope we have some action soon; there is nothing like it for changing the current of a man’s mind. A French frigate, or a Spaniard, if they come in; there is nothing like your Spaniard for dogged fighting.’
‘I dare say you have seen a great deal of action, sir?’ said the parson, nodding towards Jack’s bandage.
‘Not more than most, sir,’ said Jack. ‘Many officers have been far more fortunate.’
‘Pray what would you consider a reasonable number of actions?’ asked the parson. ‘I was astonished, on joining the ship, to find that none of the gentlemen could tell me what a pitched battle was like.’
‘It is so much a question of luck, or perhaps I should say of Providence,’ said Jack, with a bow to the cloth. ‘Where one is stationed, and so on. After all,’ he said, pausing, for on the verge of his mind there was a witticism, if he could but grasp it. ‘After all, it takes two to make a quarrel, and if the French don’t come out, why, you cannot very well have a battle all by yourself. Indeed, there is so much
routine work, blockading and convoy-duty and carrying troops, you know, that I dare say half the lieutenants of the Navy List have never seen action at all, in the sense of a meeting of ships of equal force, or of fleets. More than half, perhaps.’
‘I never have, I am sure,’ said Dashwood.
‘I saw an action when I was in the Culloden in ninety-eight,’ said Simmons. ‘A very great action; but we ran aground, and never could come up. It nearly broke our hearts.’
‘It must have been a sad trial,’ said Jack. ‘I remember how you carried out warps, pulling like heroes.’
‘You were at the Nile, sir?’
‘Yes, yes. I was in the Leander. I remember coming on deck just as the Mutine rounded to under your stem, to try to heave you off.’
‘So you were in a great battle, Captain Aubrey,’ said the chaplain eagerly. ‘Pray, can you tell me what it was like? Can you give me some impression of it?’
‘Why, sir, I doubt that I could, really, any more than I could give you much impression of let us say a symphony or a splendid dinner. There is a great deal of noise, more noise than you would believe possible; and time does not seem to have the same meaning, if you follow me; and you get very tired. And afterwards you have to clear up the mess.’
‘Ah, that’ is what I wanted to know. And is the din so very great?’
‘It is enormous. At the Nile, for example, we had the L’Orient blow up near us, and we all conversed in shouts for ten days after. But St Vincent was noisier. In what we call the slaughter-house, where I was stationed at St Vincent – that is the part of the gun-deck in the middle of the ship, sir – you have sixteen thirty-two pounders in a row, all roaring away as fast as they can load and fire, recoiling and jumping up with a great crash when they are hot, and running out again to fire; and then just overhead
you have another row of guns thundering on the deck above. And then the smashing blow as the enemy’s shot hits you, and maybe the crash of falling spars above, and the screams of the wounded. And all this in such a smoke you can hardly see or breathe, and
the men cheering like mad, and sweating and gulping down water when there is a second’s pause. At St Vincent we fought both sides, which doubled the row. No: that is what you remember
– the huge noise everywhere, the flashes in the darkness. And,’ he added, ‘the importance of gunnery – speed and accuracy and discipline. We were firing a broadside every two minutes, and they took three and a half or four – that’s what wins the day.’
‘So you were at St Vincent too,’ said the parson. ‘And at what other actions, if I am not too indiscreet – I mean, apart from this last most daring capture, of which we have all read?’
‘Only small affairs – skirmishing in the Mediterranean and the West Indies in the last war –
that kind of thing,’ said Jack.
‘There was the Cacafuego, sir, I believe,’ said Mr Simmons, with a smile.
‘It must have been wonderful, when you were young, sir,’ said the midshipman, sick with envy. ‘Nothing ever happens now.’
‘I am sure you will forgive me if I seem personal,’ said the chaplain, ‘but I should like to form an image of the officer who has seen, as you say, a moderate amount of fighting. In addition to your fleet actions, about how many others have you taken part in?’
‘Why, upon my word, I forget,’ said Jack, feeling that the others had an unfair advantage of him, and feeling too that parsons were out of place in a man-of-war. He signalled to Killick for fresh decanter and the roast; and as he set to carving the flow of his mind changed as thoroughly as if an eighteen-pound shot had hulled the frigate. He felt a rising oppression in his bosom and choked, standing
bowed there, carving the venison. The first lieutenant had long ago seen that Mr Lydgate’s persistence was disagreeable to Captain Aubrey, and he turned the conversation back to animals aboard. Dogs in ships he had known:
the Newfoundland that so lovingly brought a smoking grenade; the Culloden’s pet crocodile; cats.
‘Dogs,’ said the chaplain, who was not one to leave his corner of the table silent long.
‘That reminds me of a question I had meant to put to you gentlemen. This short watch that is about to come, or rather these two short watches – why are they called dog watches?
Where, heu, heu, is the canine connection?’
‘Why,’ said Stephen, ‘it is because they are curtailed, of course.’
A total blank. Stephen gave a faint inward sigh; but he was used to this. ‘Mr Butler, the bottle stands by you,’ said Jack. ‘Mr Lydgate, allow me to help you to a little of the undercut.’
It was the midshipman who first reacted. He whispered to his neighbour Dashwood, ‘He said, cur-tailed: the dogwatch is cur-tailed. Do you twig?’
It was the sort of wretched clench perfectly suited to the company. The spreading merriment, the relish, the thunderous mirth, reached the forecastle, causing amazement and conjecture: Jack leaned back in his chair, wiping the tears from his scarlet face, and cried, ‘Oh, it is the best thing – the best thing. Bless you, Stephen – a glass of wine with you. Mr Simmons, if we dine with the admiral, you must ask me, and I will say, “Why, it is
because they have been docked, of course.” No, no. I am out. Cur-tailed -cur-tailed. But I doubt I should ever be able to get it out gravely enough.’
They did not dine with the admiral, however; no loving messages answered their salute to the flagship; but the moment they dropped anchor in the crowded Downs Parker came aboard from the Fanciulla with his brand-new epaulette, to congratulate and to be congratulated.
Jack felt a certain pang when the boat answered the Lively’s hail with ‘Fanciulla’, meaning that her captain was aboard; but the sight of Parker’s face as it came level with the deck and the affection that beamed from it, did away with all repining. Parker looked ten, fifteen years younger; he came up the side like a boy; he was wholly and absolutely delighted.
He most bitterly regretted that he was under orders to sail within the hour, but he solemnly engaged Jack and Stephen to dine with him at the very next meeting; he thought curtailed by far the best thing he had ever heard in his life – should certainly repeat it – but he had always known that Dr Maturin was a towering intellect – was still taking his pill, morning and evening, and should continue to do so until the end of his life; and on leaving he took Jack’s hesitant ‘Captain Parker would not be offended if he suggested• a relaxation – a curtailing of the cat, as he might say’ very well indeed. He said he should pay the utmost attention to advice from such a – such an esteemed quarter, such a very, very highly esteemed quarter. On saying good-bye he took both Jack’s hands in his and, with tears in his small, close-set eyes, he said, ‘You don’t know what it means, sir, success at fifty-six –
success at last. It changes a man’s whole, eh heart. Why I could kiss the ship’s boys.’
Jack’s eyebrows shot into his bandage but he returned Parker’s fervent grip and saw him to the gangway. He, was profoundly touched and he stood there looking after the boat as it pulled over to the beautiful little sloop until the first lieutenant came up to him and said,