The bulk of it was dry, boresome, and innocuous; lists of needs and expenses for cordage, spars, canvas and tar, shot, powder and cartridge flannel (all pleasingly hard to come by on Guadeloupe at present, they noted), and the problems among her crew; the everyday life of a working ship.
Much more interesting were the former captain's letters from at least three ladies of Guadeloupe, all dated within days of each other, of a blue-hot ardent and salacious nature, which had them all guffawing, along with the former captain's attempts at draft letters that tried to keep them sorted out without repeating himself. Even racier was an unfinished and forlorn missive to his wife in Bordeau, practically weeping blue ink over missing her so grievously!
A good supper, fresh bread (of a sort), and the promise of prize money to come had them all in an expansive mood, Lewrie noted. Even Mr. Durant seemed to have laid aside his disenchantment over Hudson's place as the senior Surgeon's Mate, for the nonce, and joined in the mirth, holding up his end of the table conversation and putting down a fair and manly share of wine, even cracking droll jests before they got down to the business at hand. And in that business, letters that Incendiare s captain had received provided bright gems of interest.
"This'n from his wife, sir," Lt. Catterall said, holding up a page for better light from the four-lanthorn chandelier that swivelled and swayed over Lewrie's glossy dining table, "she writes that things are hotting up in the Mediterranean. An Admiral de Brueys-sounds as if her family knows his-has taken command of a three-decker by the name of L'Ocean, and a large number of line-of-battle ships… uhm, accompanied by over an hundred transports, for an expedition bound for somewhere."
Durant hid a snicker behind his port glass; it was true, then, that Catterall could read French, but couldn't pronounce it worth a tinker's damn, as he tried to expand eruditely. After two bottles' worth, he should have known better, Lewrie thought.
"In his journal, zere is similar mention," Mr. Durant stated, setting down his glass and opening a salt-stained book of ruled pages. "Ah… he speculates about zis armada, sirs. He is certain zat some tremendous victory will be won, and… rumour gained from Guadeloupe officials about one possible aim being ze island of Malta."
"Damme, that'd cut the Mediterranean in half," Langlie said. He refilled his port glass from the decanter that circled larboardly round the table as he spoke. "And with no help from the neutral and beaten Italian states, and Austria out of things, that'd leave Admiral Jervis where he was two years ago… chased back to Gibraltar or Lisbon."
"He regrets zey do not come to ze West Indies, sirs," Mister Durant read on, "and retake Martinique, or other former colonies… ah! Apparently, a General Bonaparte is in charge, and has a grander scheme in mind. He writes that perhaps the Balkans are the aim-"
"Bonaparte?" Lewrie grumbled, slapping the table. "Why, I've met the little bastard, in '93! Ran me out of the Adriatic, too, when he invaded Italy in '96, and beat the Austrians and Piedmontese like a dusty rug. Almost bagged me on the Genoese coast once, too. He's a dangerous man, I tell you. Never trust the dwarfish, gentlemen. He's no bigger than a minute, but slipp'ry as an eel…"
It need not be said that Lewrie was, by then, most cheerily in his cups, since he'd-By God-earned it, and was damned grateful to have breath in his body for use between sips. Unloaded? Jesus!
"Well, if he's busy conquering someplace Dago-ish, we'll not be plagued by him this summer at least," Catterall snickered, only a wee bit sozzled. His robust constitution came with a "hollow-leg."
"No ships to spare to oppose us. Good," Langlie contributed.
"And with their Atlantic ports blockaded so close, where else'd the Monsieurs get frigates or corvettes, with their Toulon fleet busy?" Catterall snorted.
"So the West Indies'll be safe 'til our 'liners' come back from Halifax, at the end of hurricane season," Lewrie reasoned out.
"Uhm… he expresses worry about American frigates, sirs," Mr. Durant continued, flipping through the private journal. "He was pursued by one off Dominica… he was run one hundred miles in a day."
"Recent?" Catterall demanded, eyes beginning to unfocus, after all, and starting to sound "bull-horned" drunk.
"Recently, yes, Mister Catterall," Durant replied.
"Must've been that Hancock, then," Catterall said with a grunt.
"I'd've run, too," Lewrie jokingly confessed, "whether she was over-sparred and un-handy, over-gunned or crank. She's a fearsome and fast beast."
"Privateers stand no chance on ze coast of America, now," Mr. Durant paraphrased. "Zey return to Caribbean waters, uhm… he suspects more American frigates… ah! Here is something, sirs. After ze break in relations, Paris determines to re-enforce zeir navy here… what ships zey may spare from Brest and L'Orient, bringing fresh troops and arms…"
Durant made a shrug and a moue.
"He rejoices, for L'Ouverture's victory over General Maitland," Durant cautiously said, "he congratulates ze noirs of Saint Domingue, and writes of hopes zat zey may be directed west to an invasion of Jamaica, rather zan east against Spanish Santo Domingo. But he does not trust zem, sirs, nor does he like zem. If zey go east, Spanish harbours might be closed to privateers."
"Be a good thing," Catterall huffed. "Tally-ho, Toussaint!"
"A mission diplomatique is to be sent to L'Ouverture, soon, as I read zis!" Durant cried, making them all sit up and take notice of such news. "Important officials who will ask L'Ouverture to reconcile with General Rigaud in South Province, so zeir armies may combine to attack Jamaica! And ask for a time of rest, so zey may build up his supplies first, and assemble suitable transports!"
"We must get this news to Kingston, at once," Lewrie declared. "Then rash right back, and hunt the delegation ship!"
"Pipe dreams, sir," Langue sadly said. "Their hopes for a try at Jamaica, that is. That'd take lots of ships, not a gaggle of potty little fishing boats, nor all their privateers as escort. Can't be done without proper ships of war, even with our ships of the line away 'til October or November."
"Unless Bonaparte really means to hit the Indies, not something in the Mediterranean," Lewrie objected. "I told you he was devious as the Devil! Look at the way he gammoned half a dozen brilliant Austrian generals by sayin' one thing, demonstratin' one thing, but doin' quite another fifty miles away. Anything more on that line, Mister Durant?"
"Zere is another entry, quite recent, Capitaine," Durant said, after wetting a finger to turn the pages. "Before he sails north, to rendezvous with ze brig we capture, uhm… many privateer capitaines meet with an officer sent from Paris on the frigate zat delivers ze arms we take, a Capitaine de Vaisseau … a Post-Captain. He is under the Governor-General Hugues, to coordinate. He writes, 'If United States have turned belli gиrent, prey upon their merchantmen, those of useful burthen, and capture sufficient transport for future expeditionary use. Then, as re-enforcements arrive, under escort by ships from the Atlantic squadrons, both French and noir forces will combine for a descent upon islands now occupied by Albion,'… that is to say, us, gentlemen. The capitaine of Incendiare describes the new arrival as a most energetic and inspiring man… zough he expresses a troubling fear of him, due to his monstrous appearance, and his reputation as an ardent and ruthless chasseur of Royalists and seditionists during Ze Terror. He names him Le Hideux," Durant said, turning the book about so they could see the entry for themselves.