Under the Angel's Wings
Christmas Eve in Gibraltar was a sorry affair, sheets upon sheets of ice cold rain pelting the town. Not a soul dared brave the elements, and the few hardy ones who had already knew better than to try again.
So it was that I found myself, along with my captain, the ship's doctor and my friend Archie, at one of the inns near the water's edge, sharing what passed for a Christmas dinner, after taking refuge there when it became obvious that we wouldn't be able to make our way back to the Indy, along with our supplies, until the storm died down.
"Gentlemen, a Merry Christmas to you all," toasted Captain Sir Edward Pellew, raising his glass, making eye contact with each of us in turn. He was by no means a patient man, but he did know when it was time to sit and wait. And so he did, presiding over our humble table as if we were sitting in the finest establishment in the whole of England.
The rest of us answered in kind, the doctor making himself comfortable while Archie and I finally began to relax in the presence of our formidable captain. Doctor Reed, the ship's medical officer, was an easygoing sort, open and easily approachable. Sir Edward, by contrast, was an imposing figure even at his mildest, and few men dared approach him, even when invited.
This night, however, was proving to be quite a revelation for me, and for Archie also, I think. We had both been fortunate enough to share the captain's table before, but never had he been so relaxed in our presence, acting more like the patriarch of a small family than the fierce frigate captain we knew and revered. Oh, I knew he had a kind heart and that he enjoyed a good laugh as much as the next man - Lord knew, he teased me often enough to put any doubts in that respect to rest! - but it still threw me off balance to hear him use my Christian name, and Archie's! After a time, though, it started to sound almost natural and I was able to appreciate his company fully.
And so the night wore on, the four of us the only occupants of the inn, until the door burst open, letting in a blast of cold, humid air, and two greatly bedraggled women, who brought us all instantly to our feet.
The two women, framed by the door, were dripping rivers. The shorter one, apparently the lady-in-waiting, looked frightened and exhausted. The other - her mistress, no doubt - looked haggard, on the verge of fainting - and quite pregnant.
Without sparing more than a glance at us, the shorter woman turned to the innkeeper. "Please, good sir, could you tell me where I can find a doctor? My mistress will soon give birth, I fear, and won't be able to reach her home before the time comes. Please - " she sobbed, obviously desperate, just as obviously expecting an unsatisfactory answer.
I saw Sir Edward glance silently at Doctor Reed. The doctor nodded, making his way toward the two women. "I am a doctor, Madam. I can help you - if you will permit me."
At the sight of our uniforms, the lady-in-waiting tensed and moved protectively closer to her mistress. She had heard horror stories about doctors serving on Navy ships. But a loud gasp of pain from the pregnant woman battered at her resolve. "Please. I would be most grateful!"
At that, Reed gave her that reassuring smile of his, moving to the pregnant woman's side to help lower her into a nearby chair. "Gentlemen, if I might impose upon your kindness - "
Instinctively, both Archie and I turned to the captain, which was a bit silly, I suppose, considering the doctor would have to be the one in charge of this particular action. But Sir Edward looked utterly unfazed, simply taking it in stride as he did everything else. "Certainly, Jeremy. Mister Barrow," he continued, turning to the innkeeper, "might we borrow the private room next door? It will be more comfortable there and make things easier for the good lady and the doctor."
"Yes, of course, Sir Edward. Please, bid me do as you wish."
"Thank you, my good man. Now then, gentlemen."
And so went the preparations, Sir Edward directing the movements of linens and hot water as he would the deployment of a squadron. Once everything was in place, though, we could only sit and wait for Doctor Reed's instructions. The next few hours were tense, filled with screams of pain and whispers of encouragement. Archie and I tried to keep ourselves busy, but in the end, there wasn't much we could do to help. So there we sat, feeling useless, trying to be as inconspicuous as we could. Out of my depth, I looked up from studying the floor to work a kink out of my neck, only to find myself gazing at Captain Pellew, assisting Doctor Reed as best he could. And again, I was mesmerised by a sight at once unsurprising and unexpected.
Sir Edward was standing at the head of the table Lady Templeton had been laid on, gently holding her head between his hands, occasionally wiping the perspiration from her brow, murmuring encouraging words in a soft, reassuring voice I knew only too well. I felt myself smile as I remembered the lady-in-waiting hovering close to him, still not reassured that he had her mistress' best interest at heart. She quickly fell under the Pellew charm, however, as I knew she would, and was just as quickly conquered by that voice of his, which could both bring down the wrath of God on you and surround you protectively like the warmest, thickest blanket imaginable.
A loud scream suddenly jarred me back to reality, as Lady Templeton gave one mighty push at Doctor Reed's gentle but firm urging. Then, for what seemed like the longest time, all that could be heard was panting, until -
A small but lusty wail went up, and the doctor lifted a small bundle that was raising holy hell at being brought into this world. I felt myself grinning like a fool, and upon turning to Archie, found that same silly grin mirrored there. We got up, trying to get closer to see while staying as far away as possible so as not to hamper anyone. We were both feeling inadequate, and it must have shown, for Captain Pellew wasted no time assigning tasks to us. By the time Archie had arranged a bed of sorts for Lady Templeton, and I had brought back fresh linens and water to make her more comfortable, Mrs. Morris - the lady-in-waiting - had carefully cleaned up the new-born child and was bringing it - her, for it was a girl - to the doctor.
"I'm afraid our young mother is too fatigued to hold her. Someone else will have to take care of her for a time."
"I'll do it."
We all turned and stared. Well, I did, and so did Archie. Doctor Reed merely smiled and nodded and Mrs. Morris, a little hesitantly at first, made her way to Sir Edward and carefully laid her precious burden in his arms, watching him narrowly lest he mishandle the child in any way.
There was nothing to fear, however. For before our very eyes, fierce, formidable Captain Pellew, scourge of the French and Spanish fleets, transformed into Edward, father of five and protector of the brood. The look on his face was worth all the prize money in the world. As for Mrs. Morris, I could practically feel her heart melt at the sight from where I was. Smiling at Sir Edward, she went back to the doctor's side to help him care for her mistress.
In the day-to-day life of a frigate, in the thick of battle, it was easy to forget our stalwart captain had a family of his own. That fact was impossible to miss now. His touch was sure, his bearing relaxed, his smile easily touching his mouth and his eyes as he cradled the sleeping infant, humming to her softly. For some reason, the sight touched me to the core and I couldn't look away. I was so absorbed by my observation that I almost didn't realize he was looking back at me. But far from being embarrassed by my scrutiny, he simply smiled at me, then at Archie, then beckoned us closer, so we could meet our new guest. She was magnificent, her tiny, ruddy face turned toward the warm protectiveness of Sir Edward's chest.
That's what had gotten to me earlier, I realized with a jolt. The aura of protectiveness that emanated from the captain. It suddenly occurred to me that I had felt it before, without really being conscious of it. Every time we went into battle, I felt it. I think we all did. But never had I felt it so strongly as when I had stood in his cabin, crying, after returning from Muzillac. Aside from a supportive hand squeezing my elbow gently, he hadn't touched me. But his closeness, filled with quiet strength, understanding and compassion, had enveloped me like no embrace ever could.
It had felt like standing under an angel's wings.
And looking at him just now, I found myself feeling that way again. The feeling was so powerful I almost choked.
He must have sensed it, for at that very moment he looked up at me, his dark eyes mellow and velvety with knowledge. The corners of his mouth quirked up slightly, and he seemed to nod imperceptibly in acknowledgement of my thoughts before turning his attention back to the small child sleeping securely in his powerful arms. I felt myself smiling as I recalled how often the men had referred to him as an old lion. Through countless acts of courage and mercy, he had managed to touch the heart of even the most hardened sailors, prompting them to bestow that name upon him. Oh, our captain was a lion, all right - proud, strong and fiercely dedicated to whoever fell under his protection, be it his family, his crew, people in distress - or little children.
We remained that way for some time, speaking softly so as not to awaken the child or the sleeping mother. I must have dozed off, however, for I was gently shaken awake, a low, pleasant voice beckoning me to wakefulness. "Horatio?"
My sleepy gaze encountered Captain Pellew's tired but clear one. "Sir?" I whispered.
He smiled at me as he slowly got up, nodding toward the chair he had just vacated. "Here, take my place."
My eyes widened, and I hated the way my voice quivered. "Sir?" I said again, all but backing away from him.
I must have looked more frightened than I thought. He chuckled softly, took me by the elbow and guided me into the chair. He then placed my left arm so I could cradle the child, before depositing her there. He chuckled again when he saw me sitting so stiffly I could barely breathe. "Relax, Horatio. She's not going to break. She's much sturdier than she looks."
The little girl chose that moment to moan softly and reposition herself. Sir Edward smiled down at her, tenderly laying his wind-burnished hand on her small head. "My sincere apologies, My Lady, but I'm sure you'll sleep just as well in your other uncle's arms," he said softly, his dark gaze sparkling with humour. "Besides," he continued, stretching his back with a wince, "this old man needs his rest if he's going to keep you and your mother safe tonight. So how about giving this young gentleman a chance, hm?"
The baby heaved a long sigh at that, and settled more comfortably in my arms before falling asleep again. As I looked down at her, so comfortable, so trusting, I was overcome by a feeling of power such as I had never felt. I suddenly knew what it was like to be the angel.
It was exhilarating - and terrifying.
That's how the Captain feels all the time about the crew - about us, I realized in a moment of terrible clarity. To be given, quite literally, all the power in the world and yet feel utterly inadequate to protect the people in your care from all the perils of this life was humbling in the extreme. And yet, Captain Pellew carried the burden with ease and grace. I shook my head.
I had just stumbled upon one of the great truths of command - while holding a baby in my arms.
I gazed up at Sir Edward, bemused at my discovery, only to find his gaze, all seeing and all encompassing, already on me. And knew I need say nothing. He understood.
He nodded at me then - that nod of acknowledgement again - then patted my cheek gently as he turned to go. "Merry Christmas to you, Horatio."
"And to you, Sir." The merriest of all!
Christmas Eve in Gibraltar was a sorry affair, sheets upon sheets of ice cold rain pelting the town. Not a soul dared brave the elements, and the few hardy ones who had already knew better than to try again.
So it was that I found myself, along with my captain, the ship's doctor and my friend Archie, at one of the inns near the water's edge, sharing what passed for a Christmas dinner, after taking refuge there when it became obvious that we wouldn't be able to make our way back to the Indy, along with our supplies, until the storm died down.
"Gentlemen, a Merry Christmas to you all," toasted Captain Sir Edward Pellew, raising his glass, making eye contact with each of us in turn. He was by no means a patient man, but he did know when it was time to sit and wait. And so he did, presiding over our humble table as if we were sitting in the finest establishment in the whole of England.
The rest of us answered in kind, the doctor making himself comfortable while Archie and I finally began to relax in the presence of our formidable captain. Doctor Reed, the ship's medical officer, was an easygoing sort, open and easily approachable. Sir Edward, by contrast, was an imposing figure even at his mildest, and few men dared approach him, even when invited.
This night, however, was proving to be quite a revelation for me, and for Archie also, I think. We had both been fortunate enough to share the captain's table before, but never had he been so relaxed in our presence, acting more like the patriarch of a small family than the fierce frigate captain we knew and revered. Oh, I knew he had a kind heart and that he enjoyed a good laugh as much as the next man - Lord knew, he teased me often enough to put any doubts in that respect to rest! - but it still threw me off balance to hear him use my Christian name, and Archie's! After a time, though, it started to sound almost natural and I was able to appreciate his company fully.
And so the night wore on, the four of us the only occupants of the inn, until the door burst open, letting in a blast of cold, humid air, and two greatly bedraggled women, who brought us all instantly to our feet.
The two women, framed by the door, were dripping rivers. The shorter one, apparently the lady-in-waiting, looked frightened and exhausted. The other - her mistress, no doubt - looked haggard, on the verge of fainting - and quite pregnant.
Without sparing more than a glance at us, the shorter woman turned to the innkeeper. "Please, good sir, could you tell me where I can find a doctor? My mistress will soon give birth, I fear, and won't be able to reach her home before the time comes. Please - " she sobbed, obviously desperate, just as obviously expecting an unsatisfactory answer.
I saw Sir Edward glance silently at Doctor Reed. The doctor nodded, making his way toward the two women. "I am a doctor, Madam. I can help you - if you will permit me."
At the sight of our uniforms, the lady-in-waiting tensed and moved protectively closer to her mistress. She had heard horror stories about doctors serving on Navy ships. But a loud gasp of pain from the pregnant woman battered at her resolve. "Please. I would be most grateful!"
At that, Reed gave her that reassuring smile of his, moving to the pregnant woman's side to help lower her into a nearby chair. "Gentlemen, if I might impose upon your kindness - "
Instinctively, both Archie and I turned to the captain, which was a bit silly, I suppose, considering the doctor would have to be the one in charge of this particular action. But Sir Edward looked utterly unfazed, simply taking it in stride as he did everything else. "Certainly, Jeremy. Mister Barrow," he continued, turning to the innkeeper, "might we borrow the private room next door? It will be more comfortable there and make things easier for the good lady and the doctor."
"Yes, of course, Sir Edward. Please, bid me do as you wish."
"Thank you, my good man. Now then, gentlemen."
And so went the preparations, Sir Edward directing the movements of linens and hot water as he would the deployment of a squadron. Once everything was in place, though, we could only sit and wait for Doctor Reed's instructions. The next few hours were tense, filled with screams of pain and whispers of encouragement. Archie and I tried to keep ourselves busy, but in the end, there wasn't much we could do to help. So there we sat, feeling useless, trying to be as inconspicuous as we could. Out of my depth, I looked up from studying the floor to work a kink out of my neck, only to find myself gazing at Captain Pellew, assisting Doctor Reed as best he could. And again, I was mesmerised by a sight at once unsurprising and unexpected.
Sir Edward was standing at the head of the table Lady Templeton had been laid on, gently holding her head between his hands, occasionally wiping the perspiration from her brow, murmuring encouraging words in a soft, reassuring voice I knew only too well. I felt myself smile as I remembered the lady-in-waiting hovering close to him, still not reassured that he had her mistress' best interest at heart. She quickly fell under the Pellew charm, however, as I knew she would, and was just as quickly conquered by that voice of his, which could both bring down the wrath of God on you and surround you protectively like the warmest, thickest blanket imaginable.
A loud scream suddenly jarred me back to reality, as Lady Templeton gave one mighty push at Doctor Reed's gentle but firm urging. Then, for what seemed like the longest time, all that could be heard was panting, until -
A small but lusty wail went up, and the doctor lifted a small bundle that was raising holy hell at being brought into this world. I felt myself grinning like a fool, and upon turning to Archie, found that same silly grin mirrored there. We got up, trying to get closer to see while staying as far away as possible so as not to hamper anyone. We were both feeling inadequate, and it must have shown, for Captain Pellew wasted no time assigning tasks to us. By the time Archie had arranged a bed of sorts for Lady Templeton, and I had brought back fresh linens and water to make her more comfortable, Mrs. Morris - the lady-in-waiting - had carefully cleaned up the new-born child and was bringing it - her, for it was a girl - to the doctor.
"I'm afraid our young mother is too fatigued to hold her. Someone else will have to take care of her for a time."
"I'll do it."
We all turned and stared. Well, I did, and so did Archie. Doctor Reed merely smiled and nodded and Mrs. Morris, a little hesitantly at first, made her way to Sir Edward and carefully laid her precious burden in his arms, watching him narrowly lest he mishandle the child in any way.
There was nothing to fear, however. For before our very eyes, fierce, formidable Captain Pellew, scourge of the French and Spanish fleets, transformed into Edward, father of five and protector of the brood. The look on his face was worth all the prize money in the world. As for Mrs. Morris, I could practically feel her heart melt at the sight from where I was. Smiling at Sir Edward, she went back to the doctor's side to help him care for her mistress.
In the day-to-day life of a frigate, in the thick of battle, it was easy to forget our stalwart captain had a family of his own. That fact was impossible to miss now. His touch was sure, his bearing relaxed, his smile easily touching his mouth and his eyes as he cradled the sleeping infant, humming to her softly. For some reason, the sight touched me to the core and I couldn't look away. I was so absorbed by my observation that I almost didn't realize he was looking back at me. But far from being embarrassed by my scrutiny, he simply smiled at me, then at Archie, then beckoned us closer, so we could meet our new guest. She was magnificent, her tiny, ruddy face turned toward the warm protectiveness of Sir Edward's chest.
That's what had gotten to me earlier, I realized with a jolt. The aura of protectiveness that emanated from the captain. It suddenly occurred to me that I had felt it before, without really being conscious of it. Every time we went into battle, I felt it. I think we all did. But never had I felt it so strongly as when I had stood in his cabin, crying, after returning from Muzillac. Aside from a supportive hand squeezing my elbow gently, he hadn't touched me. But his closeness, filled with quiet strength, understanding and compassion, had enveloped me like no embrace ever could.
It had felt like standing under an angel's wings.
And looking at him just now, I found myself feeling that way again. The feeling was so powerful I almost choked.
He must have sensed it, for at that very moment he looked up at me, his dark eyes mellow and velvety with knowledge. The corners of his mouth quirked up slightly, and he seemed to nod imperceptibly in acknowledgement of my thoughts before turning his attention back to the small child sleeping securely in his powerful arms. I felt myself smiling as I recalled how often the men had referred to him as an old lion. Through countless acts of courage and mercy, he had managed to touch the heart of even the most hardened sailors, prompting them to bestow that name upon him. Oh, our captain was a lion, all right - proud, strong and fiercely dedicated to whoever fell under his protection, be it his family, his crew, people in distress - or little children.
We remained that way for some time, speaking softly so as not to awaken the child or the sleeping mother. I must have dozed off, however, for I was gently shaken awake, a low, pleasant voice beckoning me to wakefulness. "Horatio?"
My sleepy gaze encountered Captain Pellew's tired but clear one. "Sir?" I whispered.
He smiled at me as he slowly got up, nodding toward the chair he had just vacated. "Here, take my place."
My eyes widened, and I hated the way my voice quivered. "Sir?" I said again, all but backing away from him.
I must have looked more frightened than I thought. He chuckled softly, took me by the elbow and guided me into the chair. He then placed my left arm so I could cradle the child, before depositing her there. He chuckled again when he saw me sitting so stiffly I could barely breathe. "Relax, Horatio. She's not going to break. She's much sturdier than she looks."
The little girl chose that moment to moan softly and reposition herself. Sir Edward smiled down at her, tenderly laying his wind-burnished hand on her small head. "My sincere apologies, My Lady, but I'm sure you'll sleep just as well in your other uncle's arms," he said softly, his dark gaze sparkling with humour. "Besides," he continued, stretching his back with a wince, "this old man needs his rest if he's going to keep you and your mother safe tonight. So how about giving this young gentleman a chance, hm?"
The baby heaved a long sigh at that, and settled more comfortably in my arms before falling asleep again. As I looked down at her, so comfortable, so trusting, I was overcome by a feeling of power such as I had never felt. I suddenly knew what it was like to be the angel.
It was exhilarating - and terrifying.
That's how the Captain feels all the time about the crew - about us, I realized in a moment of terrible clarity. To be given, quite literally, all the power in the world and yet feel utterly inadequate to protect the people in your care from all the perils of this life was humbling in the extreme. And yet, Captain Pellew carried the burden with ease and grace. I shook my head.
I had just stumbled upon one of the great truths of command - while holding a baby in my arms.
I gazed up at Sir Edward, bemused at my discovery, only to find his gaze, all seeing and all encompassing, already on me. And knew I need say nothing. He understood.
He nodded at me then - that nod of acknowledgement again - then patted my cheek gently as he turned to go. "Merry Christmas to you, Horatio."
"And to you, Sir." The merriest of all!