Anthony Carter and the Admiral’s Daughter

Book 1 of the

Anthony Carter Sea Adventures

Peter Argonis

© 2004, 2009, 2024 by the author

5th Edition

Cover: Chinese Ink drawing of the schoner Anne Mary by the author. © 2024

Chapter 1 — The Second Mate

Chapter 2 — Mr. Midshipman Carter

Chapter 3 — An Officer and Gentleman

Chapter 4 — Captain Carter

Chapter 5 — The Great South Sea

Chapter 6 — Love Lost and Found

Chapter 7 — Haiti

Chapter 8 — Doña Maria

Chapter 9 — Anita

Chapter 10 — Harriet

Chapter 11 — Moira

Chapter 12 — Long Odds

Chapter 13 — Convalescence

Chapter 14 — The Best-Laid Plans

Chapter 15 — A Near Miss

Chapter 16 — Aftermath

Chapter 17 — Wedding Bells

Chapter 18 — Fitting Out

Acknowledgements

Appendix 1: Sailplan of a full-rigged ship

Appendix 2: Ranks in the Royal Navy

Appendix 3: Structure of the Royal Navy ca. 1800

Appendix 4: Rated and unrated ships and vessels

Appendix 5: Watches and times

Appendix 6: Gun salutes

Appendix 7: Nautical terms

Appendix 8: The Articles of War of 1757

Chapter 1 — The Second Mate

August 1797

A small two-masted schooner¹, the Anne Mary was sailing on a westward course crossing the Caribbean Sea and heading towards the Spanish Main. She was a British merchantman out of Kingston, Jamaica. Her captain had been contracted by the British Commander in Chief in Kingston, Vice Admiral Sir Richard Lambert. They were to visit Porto Bello and to afford Sir Richard's family transport to Kingston, Jamaica. The post packet carrying Lady Lambert and her children on its way from England to Jamaica had been damaged in a cyclone, and a Spanish merchantman had rendered help and brought the passengers into Porto Bello. The Spanish had sent word to the British admiral that his family was safe and waiting for a passage. Being short of frigates and ship-sloops, Sir Richard Lambert had been forced to hire a merchantman to perform the task, and Captain John Carter had been happy to accept. In this year 1797, the war between revolutionary France with its allies and England had already severely affected the trade in the Caribbean, and freight was hard to find for the master-owner of the Anne Mary.

Captain Carter watched his son Anthony — Tony to all on board — who was supervising the setting of a stay sail. Rating his son as second mate had been a smart move. The lad, barely 18 years of age, was a fine navigator already and a born and bred sailor, having sailed with his father from age 11, with some school thrown in whenever the Anne Mary was in port for some time. This helped to cut costs in these hard times.

"Land ho!", came a cry from the masthead. On a nod from his father, Tony Carter jumped into the rigging and raced up the ratlines with a large brass telescope. Steadying himself, he directed the telescope towards the horizon where a minute speck of something had appeared. It was the Spanish Main, all right, he thought; the coast line matched his recollection from two years back, during their last visit here. The course he had plotted under his father's supervision had been spot on. His father would be happy, for the sooner they arrived at Porto Bello, the faster they could get out to sea again. It was not a landfall to which they were looking forward. Porto Bello, in spite of its name, was a hellhole. Epidemics of yellow fever, il vómito negro, were frequent, decimating the local population and the crews of visiting ships. Moreover, entering a Spanish port as a Protestant — a heretic — was a risk in itself, even in peace times. He climbed down and faced his father.

"If the wind holds, we can make port before sunset, Father," he said. "That is, if the Dons'll let us enter."

"They should still know me; I've traded with them enough before the war," his father replied. "Always got along with them. Whatever the Dons are, they're honourable."

Indeed, a low-ranked Spanish official came aboard when they approached the harbour proper and accepted Captain Carter's assurance that the Anne Mary was free of any sicknesses.

With the dying daylight, the Anne Mary crept into her anchorage. Captain Carter hurriedly climbed into his little quarter boat and was rowed across the harbour to the residence of the port admiral. There, he stated his business, whilst Anne Mary's crew settled down for the night. Captain Carter returned after dark, smiling broadly.

"The Dons are happy," he told his son. "I guess the good governor doesn't fancy having to host a family of heretics in his house. He agreed to have them ferried out to us by six bells. We can catch the morning tide to leave this stinking swamp. We'll use my cabin for our guests. I'll move in with you."

With this, Captain Carter turned in and left Tony, who had the evening watch, on deck. Sharing his puny cabin with his father was not a tempting prospect for the young man, but he reasoned that it would only be for a few days. Admiral Lambert had a good reputation in Kingston, and Tony expected some rewards for the crew and himself above the pay his father had accepted.

———

At four bells in the morning watch², Anthony rolled out of the hammock he'd slung above the single cot in the small cabin. He had turned in after the evening watch and had slept for six undisturbed hours, a rare pleasure. His father must have already got up as the cot below was empty. Tony quickly washed his face with salt water and dragged a comb through his bleached hair, tying it in a neat queue that fell down to between his shoulder blades.

He wanted to make a good impression on their passengers once they came aboard, so he bent over his sea chest and dragged out a fresh pair of cotton breeches and a clean shirt. He slipped on his short blue reefer jacket and climbed on deck to join his father and Joseph Fournier, the first mate, as they were gazing toward the town.

A longboat had just left the quay and was heading towards the Anne Mary. Tony could see red uniforms with gold tresses blinking in the sun. Spanish officers, escorting their guests.

The boat came alongside, and the next problem arose. The Anne Mary, having only five feet of freeboard, did not ship a boatswain's chair to hoist passengers on deck. However, neither Lady Lambert nor her children had ever climbed up a Jacob's ladder to board a ship. They did not dare to jump for the ladder to climb up the side, and the Spanish officers were landlubbers and at a loss themselves. It was a funny sort of a stand off. In the end, Tony climbed down into the boat to assist the ladies.

When he looked at them, his mouth almost fell open. Having grown up around Kingston's harbour, he was accustomed to the creole beauties of the West Indian islands. As the son of a lowly master-owner, the fair haired daughters of planters and senior army and navy officers had always been beyond his reach, even his dreams. Thus, the sight of Lady Lambert and her daughter was a revelation to young Tony.

The mother was a rather tall, slender woman with straw-blonde hair. Her fair complexion contrasted with the dark dress she was wearing. Her even features, and her slender but womanly form made a strong impression on the young second mate.

But the daughter! Anthony could not help but stare at her. She was perhaps sixteen years of age, and she was close in height to her mother and just as slender. Her hair was of an incredible strawberry blond shade, and her emerald green eyes combined with a milk-white skin covered with freckles. He did not notice the son, blond like his mother, who was standing beside the ladies. It was the lad, however, who spoke up first.

"Please, how can we get aboard your ship? My mother and sister are not accustomed to a Jacob's ladder."

Anthony tried to get his wits together.

"I shall assist you, m'ladies," he started. "I am Anthony Carter, second mate, at your service."

The two women hardly acknowledged him at first, but Anthony managed to coax them up the ladder, one after the other, being treated to the view of slender ankles and trim calves. The young lad climbed up without help or difficulties, and Anthony followed them. Whilst the Spanish boat crew handed the luggage to the Anne Mary's sailors, a Spanish officer climbed up after Anthony and, with great pomp, bid his farewell to the ladies. After he had left the ship and the barge was on its way back to the shore, Captain Carter stepped forward, greeted his passengers and led them to their accommodations in the puny main cabin. Whilst Lady Lambert and her son, after a short despairing look around, settled into their new surroundings without lament, the girl complained loudly.

"Are we supposed to sleep in this rat hole? Why did we have to leave London, Mother? I hate it here. No man of any consequence is to be found here, either. And this climate is ruining my skin!" She almost stomped her feet in her fury. Obviously, she did not travel to meet her father out of her free will.

"Be quiet, Harriet!" her mother returned sternly. "This is an English ship, and it will bring us to your father; and to say that there is no man of consequence in Jamaica is sheer nonsense! Don't you know how rich those sugar barons are? Also, many fine gentlemen serve in the Navy. If you won't find a husband here it will be because of your rotten temper!"

With the skylight of the cabin open, every word could be heard on deck where the crew was preparing to weigh anchor. Captain Carter screwed his eyes upwards and shrugged his shoulders as if to comment on the exchange going on in the cabin.

The voice of the boy could be heard: "I like this ship. She has fore-and-aft rigging and I'll wager she's more weatherly than a square rigged ship."

The girl's voice cut in: "Cannot you stop your sailor's talk for one minute, Andrew? I have no interest in it, really."

"May I go on deck, Mother?" the boy asked in a resigned voice.

"Yes, of course, dear. But ask the Captain first and keep out the crew's way."

The boy came on deck and walked aft. He even touched his hat before he addressed Captain Carter and asked him whether he might stay on deck and watch. The captain chuckled and nodded towards Anthony, indicating that the second mate should look after the boy.

"Stand over here at the taffrail, young master. You can watch everything and nobody'll run you over," Anthony told the lad who gladly took the position at the taffrail and looked around curiously. Tony guessed him to be no more than 14 years of age, but he seemed to be absorbing the atmosphere with eagerness.

Soon, the Anne Mary was under sail again and heading out to the open sea, and the boy asked Tony questions about everything. Obviously, he worshipped his admiral father and aspired to become a Navy officer himself. Tony did not mind the boy's questions. It was nice to be in the teaching position for once and the boy was pleasant, much in contrast to his spoilt sister.

———

Over the next days, the Anne Mary made only slow progress on her eastbound course. The late summer weather was hot and increasingly humid. The wind was weak and unsteady, dying down frequently, and Captain Carter did not like the signs one bit. Five days into their crossing, the weather glass was dropping, adding to his worries. The sweltering heat and the low winds prevailed, and the captain and his mates could not deny anymore that they were likely to run into bad weather.

Another hot morning dawned after an unpleasant night, and the ship was now wallowing in a growing swell.

"The glass dropped even more during the night. We're in for bad weather," the captain informed his two mates. "Let's get her ready. Tony, warn the passengers and have the cabin shuttered."

A few moments later, Tony Carter knocked on the door of the after cabin. There was a mumble of voices before Lady Lambert's voice was heard.

"Yes?"

When Tony entered the cabin, it was evident that the women had thrown on their clothes in a big hurry. The girl was only wearing a light cape over what Tony thought was her nightshirt. He even saw her lower legs and her bare feet, and it required some willpower to take his eyes away from them. When his look went higher, it met her indignant glare. Tony had seen his share of furious females already, and it troubled him little. It was her own fault if she showed him her goods, and he returned her angry stare with a wink.

This did nothing to soften the girl's stance. Obviously, she was not used to men who did not grovel. Yet, she looked him over all the same.

Her mother's voice stopped the interlude.

"What is it that you wanted to tell us, Mr. Porter?"

"It's Carter, your ladyship. I came to warn you that we expect heavy weather. The glass has been dropping for nigh on twelve hours, and it won't stop. We are readying the ship for a gale, and we must secure this cabin."

"Is a hurricane approaching?" the boy asked with gleaming eyes. He had read so much about those murderous cyclones.

"Let's hope not," Tony replied. "Not if we want to tell stories about it afterwards. If it gets really bad, I shall have to take you up on deck and secure you to the main mast. Please make sure that you wear sturdy clothes, or the wind may tear them to shreds. My men will be come soon to shutter the windows and to tie down the fittings. We'll shutter the skylight, too. Please be ready by then."

With a last encouraging smile to the young people, he left the cabin to join the efforts to ready the tiny Anne Mary for the approaching gale. The cook prepared some hot food for crew and passengers which they took on deck, since all but one hatch had been battened down already. The passengers watched the changing colour of the sky with worried eyes, whilst Joseph Fournier and Tony directed a thorough inspection of the rigging.

They had to wait for another five nerve-racking hours, though, before the first bolt of lightning flashed from the dark grey sky ahead. Ominous clouds darkened the eastern horizon, and Captain Carter asked his passengers to go below, into the after cabin, and to lie down on the cots.

Then, all hell broke loose around them. Within mere minutes, towering waves built up, and the small vessel had problems climbing up the huge rollers. Racing down their backsides was even more dangerous, as there was the constant worry that their bow might undercut in the trough between the waves.

Old Joseph Fournier, the first mate, was the first victim of the raging sea. He was trying to fight his way back to the steering wheel, when a huge wave swept over the main deck and washed him away. His shipmates, if they saw it, could only watch in helpless horror. Then Captain Carter was caught by a wave, too. He had secured himself to the sturdy taffrail, but when he fell, he was knocked unconscious.

Tony saw it but he could not help his father. The ship was rolling madly in the seas, and what little canvas they had carried, had already been torn to shreds. In consequence, the ship was not approaching the waves head on but was turning sideways. The situation was extremely dangerous, and Tony realised he had to do something.

Grabbing an axe and making sure he still had his knife, he made his way forward, using the intervals between the crashing waves. He reached the weather shrouds³ of the foremast and began hacking away at the tough, tarred cordage until the shrouds gave way and the foremast broke off cleanly, eight feet above the deck. Trailing by the starboard shrouds, the foremast now served as a sea anchor to keep the little ship's bow to the waves, marginally increasing their slim chances of survival.

Tony made his way back, and he realised that the movements of the ship were heavy. They must have taken water, he realised, and the passengers were still in the after cabin. Carefully choosing a moment when the deck was not completely flooded, he opened the cockpit and make his way to the tiny cabin. It was in surprisingly good order, but the passengers were close to panic, having been thrown about in the dark for more than an hour.

"I have to bring you out on the deck", he shouted over the howling of the storm. "There's no way to tell how long the ship can take this. Follow me!"

He managed to bring all three of them on deck. With ropes, he secured them to the sturdy stump of the mainmast. It, too, had succumbed to the power of the hurricane, but there were twenty feet left of it.

The little ship was low in the water now, and the waves washed constantly over its deck. It was clear that she was sinking. Tony made his way over to his father, but one glance told him that the elder Carter was dead. His head had been crushed when the wave smashed him against the taffrail. He would go down with the Anne Mary.

Tony had little time to spare for his grief. His own survival and that of his charges depended on cool headed decisions. He mustered what little was left of the crew: two sailors, the cook and a boy. Luckily, the storm was already weakening. The waves were still going high, but their force was abating. There was a small chance of survival.

Empty kegs were fastened underneath the thwarts of their longboat. Water kegs hopefully not spoiled by sea water were also brought to the boat, as well as some ship's biscuit in a tin-lined box. Two bottles of brandy from the captain's stores and a net of coconuts completed what little provisions they could assemble in their hurry.

When they were finished with their preparations, they climbed into the boat and soon, a larger wave swept them off the sinking ship. Fortunately, it was a sturdy longboat that easily accommodated three grown men, two boys and two women. They used the oars sparingly to steer the boat against the high rollers and watched silently as the Anne Mary sank before their eyes. The sailors had tears in their eyes and sympathised with the eighteen-year-old second mate who had just lost his father and his ship.

After a few moments, however, Tony forced himself to leave his sorrow behind and began to organise the boat. He ordered the two women to stay in the stern sheets. Then, the men prepared a sea anchor, using two oars tied together at a right angle. This served to keep the longboat with its bow against the still powerful rollers. Next, Tony set two watches with a seaman and one of the boys each; the sailor to keep watch, and the boy to keg out what water accumulated in the bilge of the longboat. The rest of the crew and the women huddled together in the stern sheets under a tarpaulin that protected them partly from the spray that still drenched the boat constantly.

Andrew Lambert had the first watch, and he diligently saw to it that the water in the bilge did not rise over the floor boards whilst one of the sailors watched out for signs of land or of other ships that might still be afloat after the gale.

———

Meanwhile, Harriet Lambert was half sitting at her mother's side, her head resting on the older woman's shoulder and trying to minimise the physical contact with the men who, like her, were squatting under the tarpaulin. It was difficult, though, because the jerking movements of the little boat tossed her from side to side. On one side was her mother, on the other side was the disconcerting presence of Tony Carter. He was only partly covered by the tarpaulin because he kept vigil, but Harriet found her buttocks pressed against his thigh whenever the boat was tilted to the starboard side. Tony, too, felt the presence of the young woman close to his own body, but his mind was in too much of a turmoil to take more than fleeting notice.

The people in the boat drifted into a half-slumber, but Harriet did not even have this comfort. Her body was cramped with the constant effort to keep her body away from the young man to her right. At long last she relented and relaxed, letting her body swing with the motions of the boat.

After a while, she too, dozed off, only to be awakened by low murmuring and shuffling when the watch changed. Andrew dropped into the stern sheets to the left of his mother. Lady Lambert turned to comfort her younger child who was chilled to the bone after a long watch.

Harriet shifted to find a new position and quickly dozed off again. She slept better now, more relaxed, and when she awoke, she felt refreshed. Then she gave a start and almost jumped up. She must have moved in her sleep because she found herself cuddled against the chest of Tony Carter. Tony had been dozing, too, and her sudden movement awoke him.

"I am most sorry," she stammered trying to regain her dignity. "I must have fallen asleep."

"Don't worry, Miss Lambert, I shan't tell anyone," came the reply from the dark shadow to her right.

"There isn't anything, really, to talk about, is there?" she answered snippily.

"Of course not, Miss Lambert. Believe me, I have other thoughts on my mind."

She flushed with embarrassment. She had completely forgotten what the young second mate had suffered. "Please excuse my temper," she asked nicely, "and please accept my sympathies for your loss. This must be very hard for you."

"Yes, it is. I mean, for my father, this was the way he would have wanted to go. But for me, it's just awfully hard. Not just his death, but also the responsibility for you and your family."

"What will you do when we reach a harbour?"

"I shall have to look for a berth on another ship as a mate" replied Tony. "With the war and all, a lot of mates now serve as master's mates in the Royal Navy. I should not find it hard to find employment."

"My mother will speak for you with my father, I am sure. He may be able to help, seeing that he is the commander in chief."

"If I do not get you, your mother and your brother safely to Kingston, he'll have me flogged around the fleet," Tony said in a faint attempt at humour.

"Shall we make it to Kingston?" the girl asked, suddenly acutely aware of the danger they were in.

"I cannot make promises," Tony replied sombrely. "The wind's moderating and we may set sail with the first light. With a fair wind, we should reach Jamaica in two days. We may also be found by another ship before that. Why don't you try to find some more sleep, Miss Lambert; you'll need all your strength."

They both settled into as comfortable a position as they could devise in the longboat. Although Harriet again found herself resting against Tony Carter, she decided she could not help it and resigned herself to the fact.

———

They had dozed for another hour when a faint light showed in the eastern sky. The sailor on watch alerted the second mate, and soon the small crew of the longboat sprang into a brief activity, raising the mast and setting the sails.

Tony Carter satisfied himself that the eastern bearing of boat compass and the rising sun were in good alignment, and then he set an eastward course. Within half an hour, the sun began to beat down upon them, and in short time, their clothes and other belongings dried.

Whilst the longboat steadied on its course, the crew inspected their provisions. Fortunately and most importantly, the two ten-gallon kegs of drinking water were undamaged. Tony allotted rations of two pints per day, allowing an extra pint for the two women and the boy. Andrew Lambert refused to draw extra rations, but the women gratefully accepted.

Tony advised everyone to drink slowly lest they would induce even more sweating and loss of water. The wind was steady, they were making good way under sail and the spirits of the survivors of the Anne Mary were rising. Later in the day, a squall with heavy rain drenched the boat, providing everyone on board with a welcome deluge of fresh water. The women ripped some of their underskirts down, to catch the rain, and wrung the fresh water from the cloth into their mouths whilst the sailors used kerchiefs and neckcloths for the same purpose. This improved the mood on board even more. In the evening, after doling out small rations of ship's biscuit, Tony treated everyone to a sip of brandy. After that, watches were detailed, and the men and women settled down for another night, whilst the boat followed its eastbound course, driven by a gentle night breeze.

———

Once again, Harriet Lambert found herself seated between her mother and Tony Carter, who handled the steering. She felt uncomfortable as her clothes had not completely dried after the last rainfall. Pretty soon, she began to shiver in the cool night air. Noticing this, Tony Carter offered her his reefer jacket, and the girl gratefully accepted the warmth of the garment.

She drifted off to sleep, and when she awoke, she felt oddly at ease and comfortable. Waking up fully, she gave a little start. She was again resting against the chest of Tony Carter. He, in turn, had put one arm around her shoulder to comfort her. Her first impulse was to shake him off, but then she recalled the comfort she had just felt.

Against her will, the young second mate had impressed her during the day. The way he handled the situation with calm determination reminded her strongly of the aura of authority that surrounded her father. She had to concede that she felt good lying in his arms. She stirred a little and cuddled even more into his chest, and after a few minutes in this new position she surprised herself when she put her own hands on the hand that rested on her shoulder. She held her breath when his face touched the top of her head in response, slightly nuzzling her hair. Nothing else happened though, and young Harriet relaxed.

Sleep, however, did not come to her. Instead, she tried to sort out her emotions. There she was, the daughter of a baronet of the realm and commander in chief, and she felt attracted to the son of an obscure master-owner. She knew that there was no future in such a foolhardy relationship. And yet, she felt sure that this young man would make his way, whichever path he decided to take. In the end, Harriet decided that she simply liked and even respected the young second mate.

Interestingly, Lady Lambert's thoughts were taking a similar course. Feigning sleep, she was well aware of the closeness between her daughter and the handsome young man. She was also acutely aware of their precarious situation. If this little interlude served to calm down Harriet and gave her solace, this was fine. Besides, nothing serious could develop in an 18-foot longboat. Once they reached Kingston, Harriet would be out of reach for the young man.

Nevertheless, Eleanor Lambert, too, was impressed with Anthony Carter. She had met numerous naval officers in the years she'd been married to her husband, some of them famous and respected. The young man seemed to be cut from the same cloth. She would see to it that her husband would learn about his conduct. Perhaps, she could help starting a naval career. At the very least, she could repay him for his devotion towards their safety and well being. In the meantime, however, she had to see to it that Harriet did not get carried away too much.

Anthony Carter felt a mix of strange emotions, holding the lovely girl in his arm. He knew perfectly well that he was risking a lot with his quiet advances. Yet the attraction he felt was equally strong. It was not just the physical beauty of Harriet Lambert; after all he had met many beautiful girls on the islands. But the grudging way that she let her emotions overturn her inbred prejudices, the turmoil she displayed when fighting her arrogance and temper, all this endeared her to him.

"Never worry, Miss Lambert", he whispered into her ear. She did not stiffen against his touch; she rather melted against him. He kept holding her tight. "Everything will be all right," he assured her.

Harriet nodded against his chest, feeling comfortable and indeed secure. She trusted the young mate in more than one sense. Screwing her head around, she looked at Tony's face, but she could barely make out his features in the faint light. Satisfying herself that her mother and brother were both asleep, and hoping that no one else could see her, she quickly turned and planted her lips on Tony's mouth. Sighing contentedly, she resumed her resting position against his chest. His hand on her shoulder caressed her almost imperceptibly until Harriet fell asleep with a smile still on her lips.

An hour later, the cloud cover opened, and the moon bathed the sea in its pale light. Lady Lambert woke up and looked around. The sight of her daughter, blissfully asleep against the young man's chest, his arm protectively around her shoulder, gave her a small start. But when the young man looked up and met her gaze, she just gave him a small nod and a smile. Raising a fuss now would not only destabilise the order in the boat, but would seriously imperil her daughter's reputation.

Two hours later, after the short tropical dawn, the sun rose brilliantly over the horizon and the crew of the longboat started the day with a scant breakfast of ship's biscuit and water. Harriet had extricated herself from Tony's embrace, but when he handed her a piece of bread, she deliberately let her hand rest on his for a moment and smiled gratefully. He acknowledged her smile with a wink of his eye.

After breakfast, Tony showed his consideration for the female passengers. He had the sail rearranged so that it provided privacy for the women, and they took the opportunity to empty their bowels and bladders over the side of the boat. The men did likewise in the bows and used sea water to clean themselves. When everyone had restored their decency, the sail was set again and the longboat continued its course towards Jamaica. They were lucky that the steady, gentle breeze favoured them, and the boat made good progress. It was late afternoon, therefore, when the lookout yelled "Land ho!". The crew jumped up excitedly, hugging each other. So did the passengers, and Harriet Lambert made a point of giving Anthony Carter a grateful hug as well, whispering "Thank you for everything!" in his ear.

Before darkness came, they sighted a patrolling English sloop of war. After he identified himself and his passengers, Tony, his passengers and his crew were taken on board. The lieutenant commanding the sloop sailed back straight to Kingston Harbour, and shortly after midnight, a relieved Admiral Lambert embraced his wife and children at the pier.

Lady Lambert made a point of presenting Anthony Carter to her husband and praised his conduct during the hurricane and after. The Admiral was eager to convey his family to the comnfort of Admiralty House, but he took the time to thank Anthony and invited him to tea at Admiralty House for the next afternoon. Both Andrew and Harriet said their farewell to him too, and Harriet had to suppress a giggle when Anthony awkwardly kissed her hand.

It was close to two in the night when Tony entered his father's house using a key hidden in a wall crevasse. In the dark, he crept up the stairs and to his room where he threw himself on the bedstead fully clothed. In spite of being dead tired, he had an unruly sleep, waking up with each tolling of the hour bell. It was almost a relief when the first sun rays filled the chamber with light.

He stumbled down the creaky stairs and out the back of the house to the well. A few buckets of fresh water were emptied into a washing trough. He found a bar of soap, too, and cleaned himself thoroughly, even washing his hair, before dressing in one of his good shirts and his better trousers. The small pouch of money that represented his savings was still in its hiding place in the rafters of the house, giving him the means to visit a small tea house down the street where he broke his fast with fresh bread and jam and a large cup of steaming tea.

Next he visited the closest neighbours and gave them the sad news of his father's passing. They were sympathetic and offered what help they could, chiefly a seat at their supper tables. Those were kind gestures, and Tony felt pride seeing how well his father had been regarded. He had the feeling, however, that his crafty father had not left him behind in a penniless state, and he knew the man who would help him claim his inheritance. He therefore visited a sombre-looking gentleman, Master Edward Rawling, the solicitor. That worthy informed Anthony that he had been indeed entrusted with the care of the late Captain Carter's documents.

For once, there was a will left by his father, in beautiful handwriting and with a great wax seal, that bequeathed all his earthly possessions to his only son. Those possessions were listed on an itemised list and rather substantial. There was also an insurance policy for the Anne Mary and what cargo she might carry. Anthony could claim the fair value of the vessel and of the personal belongings that were lost in the wreck. This amounted to over £1,600, and Mr. Rawling offered his assistance with the paperwork necessary to file the claim with the underwriter.

There were also capital investments that his father had made. Tony had never known that his father was actually quite well off. Tony now owned a sizeable share in a shipping company, which his father had set up with a partner. He therefore set out to meet that man and to make it known that his father had perished at sea.

Captain George Whitney, the managing partner, expressed his deep sympathy. He was delighted to hear that Tony would not withdraw his investment. He made it clear that a major share holder of Tony's qualification would soon be entitled to the command of one of their vessels as soon as an opening presented itself and after a few journeys as a first mate. Tony expressed his interest, and Mr. Whitney promised to contact him as soon as an opportunity arose.

After Tony left, he was facing the task of making himself representable for tea at Admiralty House. After all, he would see Harriet Lambert again, and that thought worried and elated him at the same time.

Chapter 2 — Mr. Midshipman Carter

August 1797

Tony arrived at Admiralty House right on time, wearing his best white trousers, pinch-buckled shoes and a blue reefers coat, the usual attire of a merchantman mate. He expected to be ushered in and out for a brief 'thank you' and the settlement of the fare for his passengers. Instead, the admiral showed him into a small dining room where the whole family waited for him.

Tea was served, and a friendly conversation ensued. Admiral Lambert satisfied himself that the young man had had some schooling, even spoke some French, Spanish, and Dutch, and showed good manners. Lady Lambert had sung Tony's praise, and Sir Richard had to agree with his wife. When the ladies retired to their rooms to prepare for dinner, Sir Richard came to the point.

"Well, my dear young man, what are your plans now?"

"I have inherited a share in the shipping company of Whitney & Sons from my father. Captain Whitney promised to find me a berth as first mate in one of their ships. There may even be a chance for me to become a master soon, Sir Richard."

"Would you perhaps be interested in joining the Royal Navy instead? From what I have seen and heard, you are a very promising young man. Why waste such talent shipping molasses around the islands? If you agree, I can post you as a midshipman, seeing how you have years of seagoing experience. Captain Fanning of the Medusa frigate has a vacancy. He's an excellent officer, and Medusa will leave shortly on patrol duty."

Young Tony Carter was surprised at this offer. He had expected a money hand-out and a handshake at best. Yet, he hesitated only briefly. A midshipman was an officer-in-training, a warrant officer being groomed for commissioned rank. All of a sudden, a new world was opening up for him. A world of gold-embroidered uniforms and beautiful women. A world in which he could find a place for himself. A world in which beautiful redheaded young women moved, who might even find him acceptable.

Showing the appropriate amount of gratitude, he accepted Sir Richard's offer, and in turn, the admiral showed his satisfaction. A written order was made out for Tony to report to Captain Fanning. Admiral Lambert even gave him a personal letter of recommendation, both for immediate and future use. Still thanking Sir Richard profusely, Tony finally took his leave, slightly dazed over the development.

He stopped briefly at Captain Whitney's house to inform him of his Naval career prospects, and the older man congratulated him sincerely, expressing his confidence in Tony's eventual advancement in the service.

With the fare he had collected from the admiral, Tony started out on the next morning to find a new sea chest and a proper midshipman's uniform. Mr. Rawling had seen to it that he received an advance payment on the insurance money. The rest of that money would be paid into an account with a local bank house recommended by Mr. Rawling. Tony also made arrangements for a neighbour to look after his father's house. He planned to keep it for those times when he might be in port.

When all these preparations were finished three days later, Tony reported to Captain Fanning in the after cabin of HMS Medusa. Captain Fanning was a lightly built, shrewd looking man. After reading the Admiral's order and the letter of recommendation, he knew that the new midshipman was his commander-in-chief's protégé. Accordingly, he welcomed him on board and introduced him to his immediate superior, the sailing master. That worthy individual, Mr. Boyle, was a grizzled veteran of more than fifty years, but his clear blue eyes belied his age. Anthony felt instinctive respect for this veteran.

"Have your dunnage stowed in the gunroom, and report on deck for the afternoon watch," Boyle wheezed, his voice ravaged by forty years of shouting against gales.

Two young sailors carried his sea chest down the hatchways and to the orlop deck, and then amidships to the gun room, where the master's mates and midshipmen were berthed. A smoking tallow lantern spread its weak light over a narrow room. Tony sighed. There were no cots, only hooks where he could sling a hammock. Two children's faces looked at him from the raw table in the centre of the room.

"Good day, gentlemen," he addressed them. "Anthony Carter, midshipman, at your service." The two boys mumbled their names and continued to stare at him.

"Don't bother with those children!" a strong voice came from one of the hammocks. "Peter Brock, master's mate! You saw Daniel Swenson on deck? He's a master's mate, too. I heard you were second mate in your father's schooner?"

"Yes, for the last two years. Before that, I sailed before the mast for five years."

"A real tar then. But you're a midshipman?"

"That's how Sir Richard rated me."

"So you know the big man?"

"I was able to do him a service. Our ship was lost in the hurricane, and my father was killed. I was able to bring the admiral's family to safety, however, and I s'pose he's grateful."

"You sailed the Anne-Marie's boat into Kingston? I heard of that. It's good to have you on board, mate!"

"Thank you for the welcome, mate."

They shook hands. The two midshipmen stepped forward too, to offer their hands.

"By the way, who is the gun room purser? I s'pose you'll need my contribution."

"I am, and yes, we could use some more food and maybe some ale."

They were a small group in the gun room, three midshipmen and two master's mates. Tony was in a good position, rated as a midshipman, but he was also recognised as experienced sailor by the two master's mates. The other two midshipmen were shy boys of sixteen who had come on board only recently. Two senior midshipmen had just left the ship after passing their lieutenant's exams.

Over the next days, the Medusa made ready for sea, and Anthony was busy getting familiar with his new duties. She was a 32-gun fifth-rate frigate of over 900 tons, more than three times the tonnage of the puny Anne-Marie, and she shipped a crew of 270 officers, ratings and soldiers. Tony found himself an insignificant cog in the big machinery that kept the frigate running, and he needed to find his place. He was lucky inasmuch as his new mates, Brock and Swenson, helped him fit in, and after a week of learning his duties, he did not commit many errors anymore.

As a warrant officer, he was also entitled to shore leave. Thus, on their last day in port, he made a tour through the familiar establishments of Kingston. He met a few of his father's acquaintances and friends who expressed their sympathy, but also their surprise that he had joined the Royal Navy.

Later that evening, he drifted into the Blue Posts, one of the better houses of convenience in Kingston. It was a place frequented by warrant officers and merchant navy mates. Anthony had been there before and he planned to relieve his needs before he went out to sea again for God knew how long.

Being a young, well dressed man, the girls flocked around him instantaneously. Looking around to make his pick, he saw a slender girl of no more than 17 or 18 years, with a reddish hue in her blond curls and a trim figure. Forgetting the other girls around him, he approached her. She looked at him with a mixture of apprehension and pride, and Tony sensed that she was not yet a seasoned veteran of her trade.

"Hullo, my lovely. What be your name, pray tell?" he asked her.

"Me name's Rose," she answered in so low a voice he could hardly understand her.

"And would you be willing to give a lonely sailor a little loving, my lovely Rose?"

She nodded. "You'll have to pay a sovereign to Master Phillips for the room," she stated. "And I'll have five shillings if it pleases you."

"So much beauty for such a pittance," Tony quipped, eliciting a blush on the girl's face.

He took her hand and walked over to the bar. He gave the innkeeper a sovereign and the order to be roused by eight bells in the middle watch⁴. That left him five hours with the girl. When they reached their allotted room, he gave her another sovereign up front. She showed her surprise, not being used to such generosity.

"Why?"

"I want us to take our time. Like a we're a real couple, you know?"

"I can do slowly. How to start?"

"Undress and open your hair!"

Hesitantly, the girl complied. She was still awkward undressing before a man's eyes. When she was naked, she reached up and untied her hair, offering the glorious view of her reddish blonde tresses cascading over her shoulders.

Tony approached her, put his hands on her shoulder and drew her near. "You are very pretty."

He kissed her, first her mouth, then her throat, and he felt her shiver under his touch. After he'd had his fill kissing her neck, he led her to the cot and made her lie down. Quickly taking off his clothes, he joined her on the bed and resumed his kissing. Her small pointy breasts were his next target, and her laboured breathing told him of her arousal.

"Will you… Umh… kiss me, too?" he asked her gently.

She nodded, and in the following hours and under her surprisingly capable care, young Tony had a very good time indeed. With their last bout finished, Rose smiled at him.

"Was I good?"

"You were perfect, Rose. Thank you."

"No," the girl sighed. "You made me feel good, too. I should not take your money."

"Oh yes, you should. Just consider it a gift, not a payment. This night will give me enough fodder for dreams during my voyage."

"When will you have to leave?"

"I have to be back on board at 4 bells in the morning watch. We'll weigh anchor with the morning tide."

"Will you ever come back here?" the girl asked.

"I shall be back. Next time, I may take you out of this place for a few days." He bent over the bed and kissed her.

"That would be nice. I'll wait for you." She smiled up at him whilst he dressed methodically. When he was ready, Rose got up and hugged him for a moment. "You be careful out there," she said and shoved him out into the dimly lit corridor.

An hour later, Tony reported back for duty, worn out but thoroughly satisfied.

———

The next weeks and months were immensely taxing on young Anthony Carter. Not only was the sailing of a square rigged frigate entirely different from the fore-and-aft rigging to which he was accustomed. He also had to learn the military side of his profession, such as gunnery and tactical sailing. He also had to familiarise himself with the small arms, pistol and cutlass.

The master at arms, Carling, had the midshipmen and master's mates practice both with the cutlass and with pistols whenever there was time, but those times were far between. The handling of a wooden sailing ship was a full time task, after all. The constant gun drill added to that, but also the mad races to break records whilst clearing the ship for action and the navigation classes with the sailing master. The young midshipmen were in a constant tired stupor.

When Tony joined the Medusa's crew, he was eighteen years of age, clearly senior to the other two midshipmen who were boys of sixteen. It took him two or three months, but he rapidly acquired the skills and knowledge expected of him. The sailing master acknowledged his navigation skills and let him calculate the ship's position routinely. Soon, when he was midshipman of the watch, the officer of the watch would let him handle the ship all by himself, only watching over things from the background. This, of course, with the blessing of Captain Fanning. After barely more than a year, he was looked upon by the wardroom as next in line for becoming a watch officer.

That moment came earlier than anybody expected. Medusa was completing a patrol of the Caiman Islands when she came upon the Citoyen, a French frigate of equal strength. The ships approached each other with respect, and both captains tried for a while to out-manoeuvre each other. The aim was to win the windward position, generally considered a decisive tactical advantage.

Captain Fanning was aware of the fact that his ship, the Medusa, was the lesser of the two frigates. French ships were generally better built than their English counterparts, and the French captain proved himself equal to the task of thwarting each of Captain Fanning's feints.

In the end, Captain Fanning saw himself forced to begin the battle from the leeward position. Both ships converged to pistol shot's distance. Fortunately, the wind was moderate, and Medusa was hardly lying over to leeward, allowing her gunners to train their guns on the hull of the Frenchman, as was the preferred tactic in the Royal Navy.

For young Tony, the minutes of the approach felt like hours. He was serving under the third lieutenant, Mr. Masters, who commanded the starboard battery on the main deck. The men under their command had readied and loaded the long 12-pounder guns that constituted the frigate's main armament. Now they stood to their guns silently, waiting for the pipe signal from the Captain.

Mr. Preston, the Second Lieutenant, commanded the port side, but he was talking to Mr. Masters, discussing the approaching enemy. The two lieutenants only separated when Medusa came up to the French frigate and ran on parallel course.

Commands were issued for the gunners to stand ready. All the men took care to move away from behind the big guns. Now, the men could see the hull and rigging of the other frigate through the gun ports, and the gun captains trained the 12-pounders until they pointed straight at the looming hull. When the Captain's battery pipe was heard, Mr. Masters straightened.

"Gun captains, ready to fire on even keel! On target! FIRE!" he roared.

Immediately, his voice was drowned out by the deafening roar of the discharging guns. Like everybody else, Tony had plugged his ears with wax to protect his eardrums. Yet, the shock of the discharges was shattering. He had to force himself to do his duty, supervising the reloading.

Just then, the hull of the Medusa shook again, as the French frigate retaliated. For a few seconds, flying metal and wood splinters wreaked havoc on the crew. With a shock, Tony watched Mr. Preston break down, almost cut in half by a deflected cannon ball.

Mr. Master saw that, too, and Tony, in his state of enhanced sensibility, felt the pain Mr. Masters suffered at losing his superior and friend. Masters shook that off quickly. He ordered men from the idle larboard battery to fill in for the wounded. The starboard guns were ready again, and once the gun captains signalled that they had trained their guns, Master gave the signal. Once again, the roar of the guns stunned Tony, and once again, he forced himself out of his stupor and back to his duty.

The men were frantically reloading their guns, and they were almost finished before the next French broadside smashed in the Medusa. This time, there were no hits in the main deck. Obviously, the officer commanding the French guns had misjudged the roll of his ship, and the whole broadside had gone high, doing only limited damage to the Medusa's rigging.

However, one shot parted a rope, and a wooden block came loose and tumbled down. Whatever directed its path, the block glanced off Mr. Master's head. Had he not worn his cocked hat, it would have smashed his head for sure. As it was, Mr. Masters was knocked out cold, and all of a sudden, all the gun crews looked at Tony for orders.

It took all of his willpower to maintain a calm facade, but he managed. The guns were loaded by now, and he made sure to gauge the roll of the ship properly, before he gave the signal. Almost immediately, the broadside of the Medusa roared out, and this time, they were rewarded by a jubilant cry from above.

"There goes her foremast!"

Indeed, the last broadside had felled the enemy's foremast, and the French frigate turned into the wind, exposing her vulnerable stern. Immediately, Medusa's sails were backed, and she lost way, positioning herself in front of the Citoyen, ready to rake her.

This was the turning point. Before the French were able to clear the wreckage of the foremast, the Medusa was able to deliver no less than four raking broadsides into the stern. Those cannon balls tore along the decks, disabling guns and killing the gun crews. Within mere minutes, the French frigate lost more than half her fighting power, and the remainder of her crew was lucky enough that their captain realised his defeat.

The Tricolour flag came down from the masthead, answered by a thunderous 'Hooray!' from the Medusa's crew. The first lieutenant, Mr. Pryce, took possession of their prize, and Medusa's crew was finally able to lick their wounds.

Mr. Masters had suffered a concussion and was laid up for a week. Mr. Preston was dead, and Mr. Pryce had taken command of the prize, leaving Medusa without a commissioned officer. A very dazed Anthony Carter was appointed acting lieutenant and put in charge of the prize to relieve the urgently needed Pryce.

Never in his life would Tony forget the sights on board the vanquished frigate. More than fifty of her crew were dead, and Tony had to order the captured crew to sew the fallen into their hammocks for burial. After that, he had to organise his small prize crew to watch over the prisoners, and to repair the damage to her rigging.

Both ships remained hove-to for two days to perform the necessary repairs before they were able to set sail for Kingston. During those eight days, Tony slept no more than two hours a day, worried sick about his responsibility. He also had to conduct proper burials almost daily. The French surgeon did what he could, but the mortality amongst the wounded sailors was almost one third, and there were over sixty wounded.

This left Tony in a constant, tired and worried haze whilst desperately trying to keep his brain working. Although commanding the prize was the high point of his fledgeling career so far, he was immensely relieved when Medusa and Citoyen finally cast anchor in Kingston harbour.

For the next two hours, whilst Captain Fanning reported to Vice Admiral Lambert, Tony supervised the transfer of the prisoners, unwounded and wounded, to the shore. He was far too busy to think of what may lie ahead of him.

Shortly after Captain Fanning returned from the flagship, however, he was summoned to the Medusa. He reported in Captain Fanning's cabin, and he saw that the Captain gave him a friendly smile.

"Ah, Mr. Carter, good to see you. Everything went smoothly with the prisoners?"

"Yes, Sir. I have the receipt with me."

Since the Admiralty paid head money for captured Frenchmen, that receipt was worth a lot of money, and Captain Fanning stored it away with great care.

"Mr. Carter, you did extremely well. I have already informed Sir Richard of your exemplary conduct, and he has agreed to summon an examination board in the next days. Once the Citoyen is turned over to the dockyard, you will prepare yourself for your examination for lieutenant. It's earlier than commonly prescribed, but I have no doubt that you will pass."

"Sir, I've only a little over a year of service," Tony protested. "I thought I had to serve at least three years to be considered."

"So true, Mr. Carter. Sir Richard is awfully short on spare lieutenants and even senior midshipmen, let alone experienced master's mates. Also, when Vice Admiral Sir Richard Lambert decides that you should stand for examination, only a very foolish man would object. He decided that since your father's ship sailed for the crown most of the time, he'd count that towards your seniority. Don't look a gift horse into the mouth, Mr. Carter, and better have some sleep!"

Examination for lieutenant! Many a midshipman waited many years for this chance. Tony swallowed heavily. This was his chance! It took an effort for him to force a grateful answer from his numbed brain.

"Thank you kindly, Sir. I shall not disappoint you," he answered, and then he was dismissed.

Over the next three days, Tony spent his waking hours going over his books of seamanship and practising tasks such as splicing or shooting the sun with a sextant. Mr. Boyle, the grizzled sailing master, helped him in his preparations whilst the stewards cleaned and pressed his shirts, breeches and coat. Others tried to get a shine into his sea boots and to remove stains and dents from his tricorn hat. The collective efforts paid out when a spic and span Midshipman Carter took the side boat to the flagship where the flag captain himself headed the examination board.

Four more midshipmen assembled there, and contrary to the usual practice, they were examined summarily. Captain Holbourn gave most of the tasks and asked most of the questions. They ranged from seamanship to tactical problems and even to disciplinary issues. For a full hour, the four midshipmen were subjected to the relentless questioning. If one failed at a question, another was confronted with it. If one answered, others were asked if they concurred. It was very unlike from what they had expected, but in the end, the three captains let them all pass examination.

A day later, each of them received their freshly signed commissions from Sir Richard Lambert, and Tony realised that Sir Richard urgently needed lieutenants for his squadron. This explained the summary examination and the benevolent questioning. Nevertheless, Tony was now Lieutenant Anthony Carter and the new third lieutenant in HM frigate Medusa, 32.

As a reward, Captain Fanning gave Tony permission to spend his watch-free time on shore during the repairs, a leave that he first used to have his uniform coats altered to reflect his new rank, but also to acquire a good sword. For this quest, Captain Fanning directed Tony to the shop of Mr. William Turner, Kingston's first sword smith. That worthy man measured Tony's height and the length of his sword arm, and then selected a fine steel blade, 28 inches long. Tony tried different hilts and finally selected a double slotted brass hilt with a leather-wrapped bone handle and brass pommel. It was, Mr. Turner explained, a good fighting sword and a passable dress sword. Leather scabbard and belt completed the purchase, and Tony left the shop very proud of his new weapon and the gentlemanly status it conveyed.

At a gun smith, he purchased a pair of double-barrelled pistols with well made walnut stocks and brass locks that would not rust. The gun smith even provided him with a bag of perfectly round lead balls in a leather pouch.

Thusly armed, he turned his steps towards his house. It was uninhabited of course, and to Tony it looked sad. He could barely recall his mother, but what he remembered of her was connected to the house. He had grown up in the neighbourhood, but still he knew very few of the people that milled in the busy street in front. In turn, nobody linked the Navy lieutenant with his fine sword to John Carter's son.

He found Mr. Rawling in his office, and the man jumped from his chair.

"By God, Mr. Carter, you look a different man. And already commissioned? My congratulations, Lieutenant!"

"Thank you, Mr. Rawling. I came to inquire about my financial standing."

"You will find it very satisfying, Lieutenant. Mr. Whitney paid a dividend of £138 last year, and this year it will be as high or even higher. I took the liberty to invest part of the monies in short term bonds."

Tony nodded with satisfaction.

"I shall need some funds to satisfy my increased needs, Mr. Rawling. Can you arrange for 60 guineas?"

"Certainly, Lieutenant. Do you still wish to hold on to your house?"

"Yes. For the time being, I wish to keep it. I shall find a housekeeper though to keep it in a usable state."

"That will be advisable, Mr. Carter. In the meantime and if you wish, I could send over one of my maids once a week to tidy up."

"That would be good of you, Mr. Rawling. You can of course pay her from my funds. It will give me a clean place to stay when I'm in port."

"Should I send Bessy over today?"

"No, please do not bother. I'll settle in the wardroom tonight, but there might be opportunities to sleep ashore in the future."

"Very well, Mr. Carter. I can have the requested funds ready for you by noon tomorrow if that is acceptable."

Tony nodded. "That would be perfect, Mr. Rawling, and I thank you for your good services."

"Say nothing of it, my dear Mr. Carter. It is the least I can do for a gentleman client."

After the exchange of some more pleasantries, Tony bid his farewell and directed his steps to the harbour where he found a jolly boat for the return to Medusa. Here, he discovered that the wardroom steward, Hurd, had already moved his possessions into the tiny cabin off the wardroom that was now Tony's. It had a hanging cot and a small leather wash basin. This was quite the luxury, and Tony threw himself onto the cot to savour the feeling. He had already come a long way in a year. As a commissioned lieutenant in the Royal Navy, he could count himself a gentleman, with all the privileges and obligations associated with such a standing. Instead of mostly paying his own way, he was now drawing £187 a year, for as long as he was attached to a Navy ship. Even if Medusa paid off, he would still receive half-pay to tide him over until he found another ship.

There was more, too. With the Navy expanding to meet the multitude of needs, he would rise in the onboard ranking, to second and even to first lieutenant over time. From there, it was only a step to command rank, likely master and commander, that would make him one of those exalted figures who had their own cabins, their personal gigs, and their gold-embroidered uniforms.

Before his fantasies could go further, a runner alerted him of the need to ready himself for the next watch. He was still the third lieutenant of Medusa and the most junior lieutenant in the Navy.

Chapter 3 — An Officer and Gentleman

November 1798

Three days later, he received an invitation to attend a soiree at Admiralty House. He had a hard time finding a lieutenant's uniform that could pass muster in time for this event. He knew that he would see Harriet Lambert again, but he was equally sure that there would be no chance for him to speak to her in private. There would be dozens of senior officers present who would have precedent over him in claiming a dance with the commander-in-chief's daughter.

Indeed, all he saw of her during the evening was a short glimpse when he arrived. She gave him a smile, though, and this consoled him somewhat. He spent most of his time with the only other lieutenant in presence, the flag lieutenant of Sir Richard, who filled him in on all the gossip and rumours.

Shortly before midnight, he stepped out into the garden to cool off when he met a woman with whom he had shared a dance earlier. They took a stroll through the well groomed garden making light conversation. Mrs. Pendrake was the wife of a prominent Kingston merchant and ship chandler. He was absent though, and Mrs. Pendrake was bored. Tony soon realised that Mrs. Pendrake was flirting with him, and he began to see her in a different light. She was not that old, perhaps thirty, and nature had been generous to her, giving her womanly attributes in abundance. She also had an infectious laugh, and when she laughed, her ample bosom was a sight to behold.

Strolling through the barely illuminated gardens, she had taken his arm. The farther they walked from the house, the more she pressed Tony's arm against her bosom. Standing in the dark, under a large magnolia tree, Tony finally made his move and kissed her. He was not prepared for her passionate response. Their lips glued together, they stumbled towards a stone bench in a dark corner of the garden. There was no subtlety, no pretence of romantic feelings, just a forceful coupling in the dark. When they were done, Mrs. Pendrake got up and rearranged her dress, taking care to put her magnificent breasts back into the confine of her dress whilst Tony cleaned himself as best he could with a handkerchief. They did not join the other guests. Tony escorted her to her carriage and she drove off after inviting him to tea for the next afternoon. He was watching the departing coach with a hollow feeling when an icy voice spoke to him at close quarters.

"Have you been easing poor Lucy Pendrake's loneliness?"

He spun around only to look into Harriet Lambert's face. She glared at him, full of contempt.

"I should have known that you would chase any skirt that comes across your path. To think that I harboured an interest in you! I never want to see you again!" she spat, her voice cracking with emotion. Dumbfounded, Tony tried to take her arm but she pulled it back violently and stormed back into the house. Aghast, he watched her running up the path when another bomb hit him.

"Mr. Carter, what did you do to my daughter?", enquired Lady Lambert who had approached from the house.

"N-nothing, milady," Tony stuttered. "I have not seen her the whole evening until she appeared here."

"I see. You were with Mrs. Pendrake?"

Tony blushed and nodded.

"You see, Mr. Carter, Harriet is a young girl and has romantic ideas that have nothing to do with reality. She does not realise that it is impossible for her to have you. Before you could be eligible for an engagement with a young woman of her standing, you would have to reach commander's rank at the least. That will likely take many years. It is a good thing that she is mad at you now. This will help her come to her senses. Do not take this too hard, Mr. Carter. It is probably the best for both of you. You show great promise, but the world is as it is."

With a reassuring pat on his arm, she left Tony. He briefly thought about going into the house to find Harriet and apologise to her, but then he realised what Lady Lambert had told him: he was not eligible to pursue her daughter. He was just a lowly lieutenant, and before he reached his own command he was not worthy of any consideration. When this had sunk in, the elation that he had felt over his promotion was wiped out. Wearily, he walked back to the harbour and to his father's house.

He did, however, visit Mrs. Pendrake for tea the next day, but with the servants present, nothing could develop. Not that he was sorry for it, as he was still in a depressed mood. Nevertheless, Lucy Pendrake proved herself a charming hostess and a much nicer woman than the evening before, and Tony put on his best behaviour. Luckily, he had to report for duty to oversee the repairs that Medusa was undergoing, and the work helped him to regain his balance.

Three weeks later, Medusa put to sea for a patrol again. Tony's berth in the midshipmen's quarters was taken by none other than young Andrew Lambert. He was now sixteen years of age and ready to start a Navy career, and he did it as a midshipman. He had letters showing him to have served in his father's flagship for the last year, but also for over two years in other ships, a receiving ship and the port admiral's flagship in the pool of London, thus nominally fulfilling the required three years of shipboard service. From Jeremy Masters, the second lieutenant, he learned that this was quite common for young gentlemen coming from Navy families.

Andrew cared little about his sister's change of mind, and he still idolised Tony. He was put in Tony's watch, which was fine with both of them. Tony liked the boy, and he also assumed that Admiral Lambert had sanctioned this arrangement. This was proof for him that he was still on the Admiral's list of protégés, an important consideration since advancement in the service largely depended on connections and nepotism.

As had become their routine, Medusa first inspected the Caiman Islands before heading further to West, rounding Cabo San Antonio, to sail along the northern coast of Cuba. They passed Havana close enough to count the number of ships anchored in the harbour, or rather the number of masts, as the harbour was out of sight behind the city.

Crossing the Windward Passage between Cuba and Haiti, they continued along the coasts of Haiti and Hispaniola before sailing on to patrol Puerto Rico and its main port, San Juan. No French or Spanish ships were encountered in four weeks of sailing.

Continuing in south-eastern direction, they sailed past the French Guadeloupe first and then along the southern coast of Martinique. There, 40 miles west of Fort-de-France, the sighted their first ship. As they drew nearer, Mr. Pryce, who entered up into the foretop, identified her as a three-masted sloop. She was clearly heading for Fort-de-France, but Medusa was between her and the coast of Martinique.

When Captain Fanning had the White Ensign hoisted, the strange sloop went about immediately, confirming the suspicion that she was French or possibly Spanish. Even that last uncertainty was removed when the smaller ship showed her Tricolour flag, and Captain Fanning ordered to clear the ship for action.

Now the endless drills paid off. To an outsider, the hectic activity that ensued would have looked chaotic, but every Jack on board knew what to do and when, and within minutes, Medusa transformed from a home for 270 men into a fighting unit. The bulkheads were lowered, the guns were readied, the decks strewn with sand to give the crews a better footing, the pantry fire was thrown over the side, and the idlers — cook, stewards and cooper and their mates — readied the orlop deck as surgery.

Tony was responsible for the starboard guns on Medusa's main deck whilst Jeremy Masters commanded the port side guns and held overall command over the gun deck. Both walked along the lines of twelve-pounder guns and made certain that the gun crews and their gear were complete.

Now the ship's boys — the powder monkeys — emerged from the magazine with buckets filled with paper gunpowder bags, the cartridges, which they distributed to the gun crews. One after the other, the gun captains raised their arms to indicate readiness. Tony reported that to Masters, who in turn sent Midshipman Lambert to the quarterdeck to inform the captain of their readiness.

In the meantime, Medusa was chasing the French sloop under full sail and gaining slowly. The old 32-gun frigate was not the fastest sailor to begin with, and two years in the Caribbean had added much underwater growth to her hull. Still, she could bring more canvas to bear than the smaller ship in the lively breeze, and that made a difference.

It took them three hours still before they were in range for the bow chasers, and then, for another half hour, the discharges of the two long nine-pounders could be heard, with the lookouts singing out the results, hits and misses. Finally, one of the shots must have hit the sloop in her rigging, for her main top came tumbling down.

Whilst the top men struck the courses and then the topgallant sails, orders came from Captain Fanning to load and run out the guns. The gunports were opened, and the crews proceeded to insert powder cartridges, round shot and wadding into the muzzles and then rammed the charges home. The touch holes were filled with fine gun powder and the linstocks were lighted in the fire basins. Then the crews heaved the pulleys to run out the guns. Medusa was ready to fight.

Meanwhile, the French had apparently cleared the wreckage of their maintop and, realising that there was no escaping, ran out their own guns, likely the eight-pounders that were common in smaller French men-of-war. The French captain was resolved to fight.

From the open gun ports, Tony could see their adversary now, perhaps two cable lengths ahead and half a cable length to starboard. If both ships held their courses, they would fight at perhaps three or four pistol shot distance. On Tony's order, wedges — the quoins — were inserted under the breeches of the guns to give them more elevation. Whilst British fighting doctrine was in favour of hitting enemy ships in the hull, Tony was aware that hitting the small ship under the water line might sink her, depriving them of prize money.

As they were drawing closer, a runner came from the captain. "Mister Masters, Sir! The Captain's compliments and will you open fire as soon as your guns bear!"

"My compliments to the Captain, and we expect to have the enemy in our sights soon," Masters answered stoically. He gave Tony a wink whilst the midshipman retreated. "Never waste the first broadside, Tony!"

Tony nodded to that and bent over to look through a gun port. "Can't be much longer, Sir."

Medusa was catching up quickly, now that the French reduced their own canvas in preparation for the engagement. Suddenly, Tony had to swallow hard realising that he might be dead or crippled a few minutes hence. He willed away the apprehension, reminding himself that he had stood that test already, just a few weeks ago.

Now their foremost gun ports were abreast of the French quarterdeck. Tony looked at Masters, who nodded. "Let them have it, Tony!"

"Gun captains! Take aim! Full broadside at my command! Wait! Show me those linstocks!"

The gun captains waved the linstocks making the ends glow. Medusa was wallowing just a little bit in the trough between two swells, and Tony waited until she was about to righten up. Then he took a deep breath.

"On my command! Fire!"

In a span of perhaps two seconds, the 13 guns of Medusa's starboard broadside spat fire and thunder. Above them, the forecastle⁵ and quarterdeck⁶ guns fired almost simultaneously, and the ship laid over to fire lee. The smoke was too dense to see the enemy, but that did not matter.

"Swab out those breeches! Fresh charges! Ram home…"

Right into his commands crashed the French broadside. They had aimed high, probably hoping to cripple the bigger frigate to make their escape, and a few lines and stays were parted. Only one shot hit the hull, smashing the starboard companionway. Two men were injured by flying splinters, but that was all.

"Run out! Take aim! On my command — Fire!" Tony roared over the din.

This time, a fluke of the wind cleared the smoke quickly, and he could see that most of their shots had been hits. The small guns and carronades on forecastle and quarterdeck followed, and more damage was done to the hull of the French sloop.

The French sailors were undaunted though and retaliated with their smaller guns just as the starboard battery was reloading. Most of the damage was in the rigging, but one ball came flying though an open gunport and hit a port side 12-pounder carriage, disabling the gun and hitting three of her crew. Midshipman Wilder, Masters's sidekick, caught a splinter in his arm and was carried down as well, whilst Medusa answered with another broadside.

The distance was shortening now and then orders came from the quarterdeck.

"The Captain's compliments, Mister Masters! Will you please prepare the port side gun crews for boarding, Sir!"

Masters took a breath and nodded. "Can I borrow young Mister Lambert, Tony?"

Tony nodded back. "Just bring him back! You know who his father is," he said under his breath.

Jeremy Masters grinned. "I'll look out for him." Louder, he ordered, "Mister Lambert, you'll join the boarding party! Keep close to me, d'ye hear!"

"Aye-aye, Sir," young Andrew Lambert rapped manfully, finding himself a cutlass in the weapons chest and checking the load of his pistol.

"We're getting close, Tony. Let the lads put canister on top of the round shot for the next broadside!" Masters told Tony, who nodded and turned to his gun crews.

"Cease firing, cease firing! Gun captains! Load canister on top. Aim for the main deck!"

With all the din of the battle, Tony hoped that they could all hear him, but he could already see that the Nº2 men, the loaders, grabbed canister bags. Good men!

Now they were only half a pistol shot away from the French sloop.

"Starb'd guns, ready! Fire!"

The broadside roared out, different in sound due to the extra load, and the canister storm hit the already damaged breastwork of the French ship just before the ships touched.

"Up, you men! Let's win some prize money!" Masters yelled, and almost seventy men swarmed up the side to enter the sloop, young Lambert with them. The French gun fire ceased immediately, and Tony turned to his men.

"You want them to brag how they took that sloop? Let's show them how it's done properly. Medusa hurrah!"

With that, the starboard crews also joined the boarding party, but Tony had barely reached the deck of the French sloop when her colours came down and her surviving crew struck their weapons. He looked around for young Andrew and saw him standing at Masters's side who was accepting the French captain's sword as sign of the surrender. All was well.

———

Everybody was elated when Medusa put into Kingston Harbour with a prize in her wake. With the prospect of prize money, Medusa's officers went out to celebrate and, inevitably, ended up in the Blue Posts Inn. The midshipmen looked like children in a confectioner's shop when they saw the pretty girls of the Blue Posts. Young Andrew Lambert was quickly led upstairs by a beautiful quadroon girl and, from all accounts, lost his virginity under her capable care.

Meanwhile,Tony asked for the girl Rose. He had partaken of her services whenever Medusa came to port over the last year, but he had not seen her when he had been ashore the last time. His promotion, the ball at Admiralty House and his fallout with Harriet Lambert had distracted him too much. To his astonishment, he heard that she had left the Blue Posts. One of the girls scornfully told him that stupid Rose had become pregnant and was now living in a home for unwed mothers.

Whilst his comrades were busy in the private rooms, Anthony left the Blue Posts and walked the short distance to that home. When he knocked on the front door, a stern looking woman opened and asked him his business. Whilst she was not openly unfriendly, Tony had the distinct feeling that she was not too happy to see him.

"I have heard that an acquaintance of mine has taken lodgings here. Her name is Rose Mulcahy. I was hoping to speak to her and to see whether I may assist her in her situation."

"Acquaintance, right" the woman snorted, but she let him enter and bade him wait in the entrance hall. Tony had to wait for almost ten minutes before an obviously resisting Rose was shoved into the entrance hall.

"What do you want of me?" she asked bluntly.

"I've heard of your situation, Rose. Naturally, I came to offer you my help," Tony replied.

"How can you help me? And why would you? I'm nothing but a whore you paid, and I can't claim that the child is yours."

"Don't talk like that. I was too busy to visit you the last time we came to port, but now I'm here. Listen, you don't want to stay here, do you?"

"They give me food. They will provide a midwife. They will find good parents for my child."

"Is this what you want? Rose, do you want to give away your first born?"

"What else can I do? I cannot take care of a child whilst working as a whore."

"Then you must find other work. Listen, you know my house here in Kingston. I have nobody to look after it whilst I'm at sea. Would you like to be my housekeeper? I can pay you a little and you will have a place to stay with your child. It does not take much work since I'll be at sea most of the time. What say you?"

Rose knew the house since on a few occasions, he had taken her home for the night rather than using the upstairs rooms of the Blue Posts.

Rose looked at him quizzically. "Would I have to take care of you when you are at home?"

"Only if you want. I'll not make it a condition."

"And you would not mind the child?"

"No, I wouldn't mind." Tony answered.

A smile crept into Rose's face. "I'd like to be out of here and have a home. When should I start?"

Tony smiled. "How about right now? Why don't you pack your belongings and I'll square things with your Mother Superior?"

Rose nodded and left the hall. Seconds later, the woman who had opened reappeared. It was obvious that she had listened in on them.

"So you'll be taking the Mulcahy girl with you?" she asked.

"Indeed I shall. Is there a problem?"

"Well you see, Sir, the child has already been promised to a family. And they have made a substantial contribution to this house. We'd have to return that contribution."

"You mean you have sold the unborn child, don't you? Miss Mulcahy has been here, what, two months? I'll give you twenty shilling;" he produced a pound note, "that should cover your expenses."

"But Sir, ..."

"Nothing of it! Do not try my patience, woman, or I shall alert the authorities to have a close look at your charity!"

The woman shrunk back, clearly alarmed. "Certainly Sir, please, I didn't mean to say nothing, Sir. Have a good evening." With that she vanished in a hurry.

Rose came back with a small bag carrying her scant belongings. Anthony smiled at her and, after taking her bag, offered her his arm. They left the house and walked towards his own home. Suddenly, Rose broke her silence.

"Do I look fat already?"

"Well, it's obvious that you are with child, but I would not call you fat, Rose. To be honest, you are still very pretty. How far are you along anyway?"

"The midwife said it will be another four months yet."

"Well, it's good that you're not disposed to fatness, Rose. You'll soon be your old pretty self. And here we are."

They had arrived at the small two story house Tony's father had purchased 20 years ago. Inside, Tony showed her to a room on the ground floor, next to the kitchen.

"This will be your room. Whilst I'm at sea, you may use the living room at your leisure. But no changes, please."

"Of course not," the girl replied.

"Another thing, Rose. You are not to receive any visitors in my house, you understand?"

Rose blushed. "I promise, I shan't. You can trust me. If I can help it, I'll never work as a whore again in my life. I have not yet thanked you properly. I'll be eternally grateful to you. Your generosity will allow me to keep my child."

"Well, and I get a housekeeper out of it, so we are both lucky. Let us get some sleep now. We can sleep late tomorrow. Good night!"

"Good night, ..." Rose hesitated, "how should I address you now?"

"Call me Tony when nobody is around. When I have visitors, it'll have to be Mister Carter, of course."

"Good night then, Tony!"

Tony waved and went up to his bedroom on the second floor.

When he awoke in the next morning and heard noise from the kitchen, he was confused for a moment. Then he remembered that he had a housekeeper now. He put a gown over his shirt and stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. Rose was busy taking inventory of her new domain. When she heard him, she turned and looked at him accusingly.

"This place is a mess. You should've had somebody to look after it!"

"You're probably right, Rose," Tony sighed, "but take it easy. No admiral will visit in the near future. Just get the kitchen and the living room in order and make your own room comfortable. There's a another small chamber next to your room. You can convert it into a sleeping chamber for your child."

"That would be nice, Tony. And my room will be very nice, too, once I cleaned everything. Your bed linens are terrible, though."

"Mr. Walters sells beddings just three doors down the street. Buy a half dozen. I have an account at his shop. And the Widow Herbert across the street sells victuals. The market, you know where to find. I shall arrange for a weekly allowance to be paid to you at Moore's bank house during my absence."

"It's all right, Tony. I don't complain. This is the best I've ever lived, and I shall take good care of your house. I promise. Now, what do you want for breakfast?"

"There's a few eggs in the pantry, and some bacon. The goat milk is from yesterday, and there is oatmeal. Why not have ham and eggs and porridge?"

Rose smiled. "I'll see to it whilst you go shave and dress."

When Tony returned to the kitchen a half hour later, breakfast was waiting. He saw, however, that only one place had been set, and he looked at Rose with a raised eyebrow.

That was a preview of Anthony Carter and the Admiral's Daughter — Book 1 in the Anthony Carter Sea Adventures. To read the rest purchase the book.

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