The light, balmy nights did not last long. Anchor-up came shortly after New Year and the crew of the Surprise nodded their heads to Epiphany as their days grew small like the latitude figures. They had hastily headed south, around the coastline of Brazil, Argentina, through the Straits of Magellan, round the Horn – no mean task with huge, pyramidal waves forming at the conjunction of the Pacific and Atlantic – although a task made to look plain and ordinary by Jack's formidable navigational skill.
Up Drake's Passage they had gone, still and settled by contrast, with mischievous zephyrs dancing softly aout the ship in light relief, respite to the southern Pacific into which they would again cross, where they had once fooled – and been fooled – by the Acheron, one of the world's most treacherous seas. Just over three months since sailing from Britain and they were nearing the Galapagos Islands. Another fortnight and they would be at Sarawak. But, regardless of what might be ahead, storms, or calm, their future would be secure.
These were just the latest in the long line of thoughts which were keeping Cicely from meaningful rest that night, which she was mulling over in hr mind as Stephen was slept beside her, his thin-framed spectacles perched on the end of his nose thoughtfully, as his chest rose and fell. Asleep mid-contemplation, one hand resting on his chest, a pile of yellowing papers under it. All too often these days, Cicely decided, her mind deviating from calculating the hours she had left with him and they would be parted, and she lifted his right hand, limp and light, from his chest, and removed the writings, those of Bonplan, she noted, and von Humboldt's, of Venezuela, carefully folding them down between them before nestling her head under his left arm and into the place the had been.
Her mind was on the not too distant future just at the moment, for it would not be so long that they would reach her uncle's islands and they would be soon parted, their lives, as contained as they were here, with naval hierarchy, here, their own floating country, as it were. Their lives together had changed somewhat since leaving Sao Paolo. Stephen, his head fully enlivened now with the prospect of a challenge with a time limit against one of the world's most renowned naturalists had grown taller than she had ever seen him, more determined than she remembered, the weight of espionage which truly had subjugated and suppressed his work in the past now extinct, he was now at a clear advantage with his rivals' work in his possession, a rival in Humboldt who did not even know he was such.
An inordinately magnificent three months, from Cicely's persepctive, that her husband was now pursuing his lifetime's ambition with such an advantage soured, unfortuately, by the ever-present passing of time, with the Surpise herself reminding herself four-hourly with what were once comforting time-bells, that she and Stephen would be separated for an indeterminate amount of time.
But she must not think of the future, and make herself so sad, when there were so many days together aboard. Not a day went by when writing, reading, compiling of work for Stephen was not on her retinue of jobs; neither did one where she was not above decks attending duties as Mrs Maturin, to whit, whatever she felt appopriate at that moment and fitted in with the orderly running of the ship.
Long past them, thankully, Cicely sighed to herself, as she lay crumpled in her husband's arms, were those of the recent past: their marriage; Diana Villiers; her father's death; her return to England. They had discussed little, choosing instead to let the past remain so. She was a figure in his past, just as Septimus Quinn had been in hers once. Stephen could now benefit from her father's money and Humboldt's and Bonplan's work and this woman had helped him: if she had feelings for him, which the letter, that Stephen had, to his credit, destroyed in her presence and cast it out of the cabin's tiny iron-hinged window-pane so little it meant to him, betrayed that she did, then of course she would do as Cicely would want to do: help Stephen gain his commission. Perhaps she should be thanking this Diana Villiers for her trouble, especially considering Mrs Pellew's sorrowful account of her life.
The happy swirling of calmer seas lapped at the hull of the ship as Cicely closed her eyes again. That the new part of their lives was beginning now, and soon they would be parted was the sad irony. But, at least, they had their lives together. War wouldn't last forever, no matter what Bonaparte thought of his invincibility. Stephen would only be a ship's surgeon temporarily, temporarily with respect to the span of their married lives together. While she and Stephen were married, Jack and Stephen were not, and that happy partnership was by no covenant bound, no matter what either of them thought!
The intense friendship of her husband and the ship's captain caused Cicely to smile in the darkness, her mind, dulled from the misery of parting, enlivened at heartbreaking sorrow that would, one day, befall those two men, when one day Stephen would no longer tend men of the Royal N, and Jack would be a retired Admiral, with Sophie, at home – or parliament, with their childen, the days and nights in the throes of hot battle a distant memory. Like her own, where she intervened, Cicely's mind dwelt, and bravely challenged James Fillings, and William Wickham and taken a potentially life-threatening injury intended for Nelson.
Whatever would her uncle Henry say, when he saw her, Cicely wondered. She had not seen him since she was very little, and only just about remembered a jovial, round-faced, bearded man, picking up Edward easily in his arms and laughing with him, swinging him round and smiling widely at her, too. Everything her father was not, Cicely reckoned. And in the meantime, had earned enough to venture into Sarawak and take up a business that had seen him well off during a war in collaboration with a provincial clockmaker. Well, it was the best, and most correct option she had. She would see.
But there was still an unnerving feeling, an uncomfortable feeling to which Cicely was not yet accustomed. She had tried to formulate the words that very evening, but had not had a great deal of success. An analogy was now foming in her mind, of slaves, the black slaves, of the fomer colonies, and how they must feel, after a lifetime of servitude and oppression that, if freed, thet would never have the hand of tyranny over them, as if there is something missing.
What need had they of the estate at Gloucester? When Stephen had finished in whatcer he needed to be doing, say, in 6 months (although she knew his fastidiousness and it may be a couple of years), he could use it to pay for commission entry for the Royal Society. And yet, when she had told him this was what she wanted him to do with it, he had told him he was keeping it on. But in keeping it on, he would likely need to take up spying again, unnecessarily so. She sighed into her husband's chest. Perhaps she could urge him to cut that one last gossamer strand of her past at a point in the future. W
hat he needed now was time to piece together the intellectual naturalistic jigsaw in his hand. And while she hoped that none of his time was spent considering the man who had given her the slight limp in the left hip from the bullet meant for Nelson, Cicely couldn't be entirely sure that Stephen's protracted deliberate pacings, or hasty scribblings were not incarnate of the treacherous William Wickham.
Stephen's chest rose, as he slept the sleep of the eternally exhilarated and yet exhausted. It was just something she was going to have to get used to in this new life together, their future, though not necessarily together, played out with one accord. The Maturins had a future. Ironically, Cicely thought to herself, had it not been for William Wickham's betrayal of crown and state, they really wouldn't have.
88888888
Some of the apes had died, though not before had Stephen managed a thorough examination of the beasts upon the mizzendecks after the seas had calmed and the southern hemisphere summer had begun to bake the planks. Men not needed for duty had, in their mirth, helped Stephen in the very early stages wrest the animals, groggy with laudanum and heavier than the ship's gun carriages up into the daylight, hauling their frames into a position so that Stephen could examine their skulls heads and torsos with regard to a footnote in Humboldt's notes, in the minutest detail, a procedure which, in all, lasted the best part of a week.
Three days in and the dose was not large enough for the largest of them and, when it shot open its eyes vigoously and began to flail its arms catching Chell in the chest and knocking him off his feet, the eagerness with which Stephen has to assist at the beginning of the week was subsequently less forthcoming.
It was a Saturday morning when Will Blakeney, directing the few men who had wished to help, had descended to the hold and discovered two of the apes had deceased and had come hammering on the cabin door, entered, nodded at Cicely without thought as to knocking, which was a very un-Blakeney thing not to have done, particularly as Cicely was, of course, in private and merely wearing her sailing undergarments, large, long cotton trousers and wide, mid-sleeved blouson – a boon in such heat - before loudly and quickly telling Stephen, who had looked up at the young man from a study of condor wing feathers, of their passing.
"And the men wish to use them for meat, sir," he added, as Stephen pulled at his coat, nodding to Cicely, who had been reading through "Zoonomia" again, and had gone without a backwards glance. Cicely knew to leave him, at least for some minutes. It would be unthinkable that the apes could be food, she knew. The toxin alone would have contaminated their bodies. And anyway, who would want to eat ape-meat? Only a salt, clearly.
She gazed at the glass-smooth ocean, the sun reflecting from its surface like a mirror, wondering whether their lives could be more perfect. But it was again another fiction, a fallacy, a false notion. Out there, beyond the sea existed the world and everything on it and sooner or later "Surprise" would get to some part of it. She couldn't hold onto a bubble of caged bliss as a template for marital happiness. Would it be Stephen leaving her first? Or would, as Jack expected, they would reach Sarawak first, as his plans inferred, and the Carteret Islands, where Cicely would disembark before the Surprise pierced the ocean's surface with its bow pointing towards the British Indies.
A heavy bang from above, a thump and some yelling and shouting jerked Cicely's attention to the present and, pulling on her linen overdress and hurriedly buttoning it, most of the buttons into the wrong holes, she hurries barefooted along the lower main deck and to the shin-steps, legging up them before reaching the main deck and the commotion.
What a sight to behold, then, as Cicely surveyed the debris. The apes appeared indeed to be dead, but of what cause? Stephen, noticing that she had appeared and was scrutinising the scene limbered over to her.
"The men brought them up, but it appears the animals got a little rowdy. According to Blakeney the men shared their quarter with them," he added, nodding towards Nagel, who Cicely smiled upon solemnly, thinking quietly to herself that the young man would hardly have shared his grog if there hadn't been something in it for him, and in this instance a ready form of entertainment appeared to be the answer. Cicely looked questioningly at Stephen. "Laudanum and a dose of grog," her husband confirmed sadly, as if that statement qualified everything.
"Yes," nodded Cicely. "Do you mean that both together it killed them?"
"Oh yes!" exclaimed Stephen, his face white with concern as he surveyed his now departed Christmas gift. "Both together it has proved fatal for these unfortunate creatures. But I still have one. And I took a great deal of measuements. Indeed, Lieutenant Blakeney!" He stepped past Cicely for a moment as the young man directing the hands around the animals stood away. What they had been doing, it seems, was bundling them in rope-sacking, all the better to handle them, for they were extremely heavy and even now each were testing the strength of four men under the ever-growing mid-morning sun.
"Heave, heave, I say!" directed Will, his calf-skin boots, a gift from a sister for passing to Lieutenant, glimmering in the sunlight. Chell knelt a little, his bare feet grazing under the boards as he strove with the effort to lift the first one. Finally he, Nagel, Pizzy and Harris had got the first and an almighty "splash" broke the silence that was around them, followed shortly, after more heaving and tugging, with the second body of the dead ape, another which Cicely and Captain Howard had lovingly procured for her husband in Sao Paolo, had been thrown overboard.
And then Middie Fitzstanley, under Will, and the lower ranks of deckhands were set to work cleaning the broken boards and rigging which the two unfortunate animals had destroyed in their swansong. As she watched, a flutter of sadness passed over Cicely's chest as she thought about the fate of the apes, so human-like in their appearance and demeanour, imprisoned as they had been, in cages, and then in the hold, and then to be drugged before their lives ending so. But then, how many people did not have liberty over their own lives, and were treated in this world as bad as that? Or worse? Like the African slave? Or the poor man who owes money? To be at liberty and to have freedom, and not be subjected to a master is surely the objective of every man? Every woman, unless she chooses to be. As she had done.
Cicely's mind dwelt on the thought for a mere moment longer - for such thoughts were thoughts that people in France believed, revolutionaries in any case, and in this war France was Bonaparte and foe - before looking back to Stephen as he retreated to the stern, notes in hand, which, she realised, he must have taken with him up on deck when Blakeney had so urgently summoned him to take charge of the sorry state of affairs.
Settling down next to him, Cicely waited for a good few moments until Stephen noticed she was there. Well, not noticed as such, but realised that she was expecting recognition from him and then realised that he should do something about that. Eventually he glanced over at her, before taking her hand.
"I am sorry that they died," he said at last, tucking the Humboldt notes under his right thigh lest they join the poor, unfortunate took her right hand in both of his. "I did not intend for that to happen. Indeed, the other ape will survive well when we get to the East Indies and I can allow him to go, as will the birds. I notice you keep your silk dress to one side and wear your linen dress daily. A shrewd move, to take care of your Christmas gift from me."
It was a clumsy sentence, and Cicely knew he was feeling sorrow for the loss of the animals too. The men were, of course, uneducated, and acted as men were wont to do in these situations, tormenting animals for crude laughs.
"If they served the purpose for which I intended for you my love, then I consider my gift appreciated. Life has a way of expiring. I saved them from a dreadful fate, for I am sure they would have been dead by now had I left them in the market in Sao Paolo," Cicely added, comfortingly. Stephen kissed the top of her head before looking up.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" Will Blakeney was looking sombrely towards the doctor.
"Captain Aubrey wishes to see you sir, in his cabin."
"Indeed?"
"Of what purpose, he did not say," Blakeney offered.
Steadily, Stephen rose, squeezing Cicely's hand one last time. In his place sank Will, a burden of guilt hanging over his head.
"I couldn't stop them, Sissy!" he wailed, his emotions overcoming propriety once more as Will reverted to his nickname for her. "They'd got the female out, but the madness overcame the male and he tore at the sheet-rigging. But then he spied Nagel, and Nagel teased him with grog, and then the men all took an interest – Fitzstanley alerted me to the situation as it concerned the doctor's animals – then they drank it, which amused them men even more and they all then gave them some of their own grog! Oh, Sissy! The apes! They then decided the rigging wasn't enough and pulled at the balustrade. The female swung out towards Jelfs so they tripped her up, but the male then tried to rush at them all! But he stumbled and fell, and then the female tried to rush too, but so did she, bringing down the aft-rig with her!"
The boy looked at her, beseechingly.
"I just didn't appreciate what had happened! Oh, the jacks stopped when I ordered them! But the damage had been done! The Captain will ask the doctor for his account. You know how scrupulous he is about orders."
I do indeed, thought Cicely, as she thought about her own encounter with Nagel in these very waters, when Nagel had provoked her, unwittingly, but even so, about Edward and besmirched his character as cowardly.
"The doctor has many more specimens," comforted Cicely, Blakeneny's hand in hers. "There are still the birds, the rodents too. Such things were likely to happen. And that he acquired such knowledge in the time he had..." she tailed off, her words sounding hollow, even to her, for, to her, the loss of the apes did indeed feel like the loss of people, innocent, child-like people at that.
Pulling Will closer for a sisterly cuddle, she closed her eyes and prayed to God that their souls were resting peacefully now. Should anyone have been looking on at a mid-twenties married ex-mizzenlad and her former teenage lieutenant consoling one another and hoping that the suffering of the animals was not too pronounced.
A day later, and the sunny climate of the southern Pacific restoring the mood of most of the "Surprise's" crew, the ship docked at Valparaiso for supplies of food, timber and women for the men. Unlike Sao Paolo, the Spanish-speaking port was somewhat smaller, the government of Chile being based north, in Santiago, and, down here, the dock revolved solely around commerce and provision.
Stephen had disembarked, watching the middies organise the deck-hands as they cleaned and repaired the hull from the worst of the damage that the Horn had thrown at them, leaning next to the quay's brine-sore planks before heading off towards the small town itself. Cicely, who would otherwise, as a mizzenlad, be working with them, descended to the hold, and to the remainder of her gift to Stephen, chittering, pipping and cawing as they were in their array of cages and, knowing that they were to be there for a good eight hours or so, brought them aloft for some sun and fresh air, to the stern, out of the way of the work, while the crew worked.
She stared at the rodents, who had chosen to scurry to the corner of their wooden prison, the glare of the sunlight too much for them, it seemed, before placing it down into the shade. The small, pastel-coloured birds, however, were positively relishing the warmth, and began to sing, their song, in due course, attracting a flock of larger birds of prey, of a species Cicely knew not what, circling and swooping just above them.
"'ere!"
The unmistakeable voice of the ship's cook next to Cicely caused her to look up, squinting into the sun towards Preserved Killick, who was holding out what might loosely be described as food.
"Fer 't animals, see? Otherwise 't would just go t' miskin."
"Oh!" Cicely said, not knowing what else to say, and wondering what a miskin was. "Thank you. The doctor will be pleased."
"Do't mention it." As quickly as he has arrived the man, as grumpy as he was versatile with work about the ship, disappeared below-decks, following Matthew Harris and two other deck-hands, who had been pressed at Plymouth, who were carrying huge, pale-looking vegetables that looked like turnips, baskets containing anonymous fish species and another man with a stanchion that Killick had been complaining he had been absent since the fighting at Trafalgar, having lost it during the engagement when it was thrown overboard by Jack as a diversion.
Smiling to herself, Cicely picked through the days-old food-scraps, feeding a piece of hard bacon-rind that was just going a little green through the bars of the cage, trying not to let the birds' beaks get too close to her fingers as she held it there.
"You have friends there, I must say," John Howard, the marines captain replaced Killick, and then sat next to her, sprinkling the hard breadcrumbs into the rodents' cage. They watched as the little rodents uncurled themselves from their corner and tentatively tested the morsels that were on offer. One was more interested than the other, which dived for cover again under the coolness of the leaves as its comrade ate for dear life.
"I just hope that Stephen has what he needs," Cicely replied, smiling at her friend. "And had what he needed from those poor, unfortunate creatures yesterday. It was an awfully unpleasant business."
"Indeed. And I believe the Captain and the doctor have spoken with Blakeneny regarding this, and he has issued punishment to those involved. It has been dealt with in line with Naval procedure. And, of course, the doctor's opinion has been carefully considered and incorporated into the verdict," he added, noting Cicely's expression of uncomprehension and outrage. "For the men should not have treated the animals so, of course," he added.
"Indeed not," Cicely replied, in agreement. For the direction of the ship and how such things were organised was in no way her business in any way any more. It was more than enough that Howard had told her in the first place.
"We shall be leaving before dawn," the captain continued, "and our course is set north," he added.
"And I shall be leaving, as will Stephen," replied Cicely. "He, to pursue his commission, I to be with my mother's brother. Uncle Godwin has agreed to take me. Not only that, is pleased to be doing so."
"And, are you, Cicely?"
"It is the correct and proper thing to be done," she answered simply. "I must put my faith in the Lord, for he has yet to fail me, though put obstacles in my path on the way to true enlightenment."
"Spoken like a true Presbyterian," replied John Howard, warmly. "No need for idolatry. God is here - " he tapped the side of his head, " - and as long as one has that, then one has access to God, as long as one listens to God properly, quietly, and heeds his lessons."
More food, and some rainwater from the natives of small town, was procured under Captain Howard's orders for Stephen's specimen animals before the doctor himself returned from the town, nodded towards Cicely and smiled towards the birds and rodents before taking them away with him, up the fo'c'sle steps and to the prow of the ship, whereupon he let the birds free. Upon looking down on the larger flight of steps, he gingerly made his way down these, too, before footing his way along the plank to the wharf, allowing the rodents their liberty too.
Cicely and John Howard looked at one another for a moment, before Stephen reboarded, both cages swinging in his right hand. He surprised Cicely by uncharacteristically pulling her towards him, his left arm scooping her towards him, before planting kisses upon her lips.
"I am so, so lucky to have found you, and for you to have become my wife, my brilliant Mrs Maturin!" he began, and if Cicely hadn't have known better she might have guessed he had been on the grog. As it was, his face was a little gaunt and pale, a telling sign of laudanum-abuse.
"There has been a rebellion, a single incident, which has caused a major diplomatic outrage between Britain and the Americas. Look!"
Pulling back Cicely towards the prow again, he thrust a Spanish newspaper towards her, pointing out relevant passages to her, nodding, as if she was as enlightened as he was, Stephen's eyes glimmering as much as they had been when he had returned at Christmas to the Surprise, his commission slightly amended with not a moment to lose. The same steely determination with which he had shot John Fotherington on the deck of the Acheron, knowing full well he was a well-connected spy in the pay of Joseph Fouche.
"I can't read Spanish..."
"Here...Whitehaven." Stephen, his arm round his wife, pointed out the Cumberland town's name in the column of print. "An American ship tried to do the same as John Paul Jones did in the Revolution, that is, invade Britain! But, the man in question, an American by the name of Isiah Watt was captured by a man named John Dalton, a scientist, it says, who lives not far from Whitehaven, in a small town called Eaglesfield. Don't you see what this means?"
Cicely looked at her husband. There were so many things it could mean, with Stephen, his mind aflame with infinite connections, naturalistic, politic, scientific.
"Not particularly. Can you explain, Stephen. Is it something to do with Dr. Darwin?"
"After a fashion," Stephen nodded. "Darwin, Priestley...all of the men of the Soho Lunar Society, all of them extolling communication in scientific and technologial fields...Bolton and Watt, of course. And there he is, a man who, by his very nature related to James Watt, using his cousin's connection play on the friendship of Dalton and attempt a one-man invasion. It came to nothing, of course. But the "Surprise's" very future is now going to be very different because of the - " Stephen broke off, as if realising he had said too much.
The wind lapped at their backs for a moment while Cicely made to take it all in and make sense of what her genius of a husband was trying to explain.
"But how do you know the two men are cousins?" said Cicely, sighing a little as she realised her husband was trying to communicate something of importance to her. "I know all of the newspapers the world over report every little thing concerning the war in Europe, but even that is something very small to be included in a local newspaper."
"It's of international importance. Isiah Watt claimed his invasion on behalf of the Independent American states and while he was only one man, and one man who was defeated, he still made that claim, one under which others are now open to follow freely, should they so desire, for President Franklin has not supersededed it – yet. And as to their familial relations, I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Isiah Watt at Soho House, when Erasmus Darwin himself was in attendance there, with several other members. Mr. James Watt introduced me to Mr. Isiah Watt himself.
"Now, should rebels, under the guise of any country wish to take up the offer to invade Britain on behalf of the Independent Americas, Mr. Isiah Watt has opened the door to them! Unfortunately - " Stephen cast a shadow over the newspaper again, scanning the words for the relevant text, then pointing to it, "Mr Dalton, upon recognising the man, invited him to his home, fed him, and escorted him to the nearest coaching station, at Windermere, wheretowhit Watt went without delay down to Chester, his intention, according to this, to arrive at London at the opening of Sessions, to face down Prime Minister Pitt and, perhaps, even to assassinate him."
Indeed? That was a lot for one man to attempt to accomplish. How could he even attempt to do so?
"He has been arrested, of course, and imprisoned in the Tower of London, of all places," Stephen continued to translate. "Well, this, this!" He slapped the page with the back of his hand, as if all of these cryptic clues were immediately obviously, "it all goes to show why we have changed tack." Cicely felt her eyes widen.
"Oh, yes. Of course, my darling, you are not as well informed as once you were," he added tenderly, pulling her close. "I am afraid we are in for some very...unpleasant...business once we sail from here, but then, my love, our plan will be as it was – I to the Galapagos, to be left there until Jack's business in India is complte, and you with your Uncle Godwin.
"And the animals?" Cicely watched her husband's face go blank, as if his actions not twenty minutes ago had not occurred.
"Them – oh. No. I do not need them any more, my darling, and I do thank you all the same for your kindness in procuring them. It is west South-American species I need to study, since it is their diversity with regard to species in the Galapagos I need to compare. Animals from the east coast, while interesting, are of little regard now. Though they were of some use in verifying Humboldt's work, however. You were clever to think of it. I have managed to propose several conjectures which I will be able to attack and rule out over the course of "Surprise's" actions soon to be in the Pacific."
And what would they be? Cicely wanted to know. She would know soon enough, of that she was certain.
"But our businss will be nothing compared to the action in the Atlantic should any American rebels attack Britain under the precedent of Watt," mused Stephen, looking over the glass-still sea as the jack-tars continued with their work, as Lieutenant Blakeney and Captain Pullings – a man still in need of his own ship after the misfortune of the wreck of the Acheron, to which he was assigned captaincy to get her back to Portsmouth – went about their business upon Jack Aubrey's.
And all the while, as Cicely thanked God again for the fortune that accompanied her husband's knowledge of the world of intellect and politics, coupled with speaking Spanish, connected to his naturalism commission, all of these had fallen into place for him again, once more, far out in the peaceful ocean, far away from the cares of her homeland.
