It took some time, but the women of the /HMS Monstrous/ present you

with our first installment of the ongoing saga. We have each decided

to take up a chapter. We are still pressing, sorry, recruiting

writers if anyone would like to join us.

TITLE: A Band of Sisters - A Tribute to Emily Regent

CHAPTER 1 AUTHOR: Ruth Christian (with fantastic input)

RATING: PG

FEEDBACK: Yes, please!

DISCLAIMER: The Hornblower characters are the property of C.S.

Forester, the Forester Estate, and A&E TV. The /Monstrous/ characters

belong to the HMS Monstrous women - please ask before using them.

A BAND OF SISTERS

"We few, we happy few, we band of sisters; for she to-day that sheds

her blood with me, shall be my sister . . ."

Wm. Shakespeare (adapted)

"HMS Monstrous"

Portsmouth

It was a wonderful dream – the smell of sausages, toast, and coffee.

First Lieutenant Ruth Christian rolled languidly onto her side in the

fresh, clean cot, floating blissfully somewhere between sleep and

awakening. However, the warm, wet tongue that slid slowly across her

face brought her to instant wakefulness. She opened one eye and

peered over the edge, but in the dim light shining in from the

wardroom had much difficulty distinguishing the source. There was no

need, she knew from whence the greeting came.

"Good morn to you, too, Zenia." She whispered, her voice deepened by

sleep. She reached out to find the big dog's soft head and scratched

her gently between the ears. There was an elated thumping of the

dog's tail on the deck in reply. Zenia had arrived but yesterday

along with the officers' new steward. There had been some grumbling

amongst the seamen, but a sharp word and a piercing glare from their

First Lieutenant had silenced them quickly enough. The steward,

Judith, had assured her that she had plenty of her own provisions for

the dog, and with further reassurances that any `accidents' would be

promptly attended to, all had been settled – Zenia was to stay. Ruth

began to notice that the dog appeared to guide Judith upon occasion;

she would bump gently against her mistress when walking, particularly

when below decks.

Still, the smell of sausages and coffee was no dream. Surely Judith

had not begun breakfast before the morning watch? The sound of seven

bells pealed softly throughout the ship – half past three; time to

dress for watch. Having completed her mission, Zenia patted quietly

through the door, propelled by that ever-wagging tail. You could

steer a ship with that tail for a rudder, Ruth thought.

She slowly and reluctantly pulled herself from the cot and stretched

to ease the aches that mercilessly assaulted her more frequently

these mornings. She lit a lantern and quickly dressed in her best

uniform, shivering in the cold, damp air. As she braided her hair,

she mercilessly chastised herself for being so weak as to notice the

cold; a month ashore had softened her. Well, some time at sea and she

would be back to her old self.

She would still be beached had it not been for Admiral Regent. She

could never express the enormity of her gratitude for her generosity

in promoting her to First Lieutenant and giving her this rare

opportunity to serve on the first all-woman ship! Ruth had served

with her when she had been a Captain and greatly admired and

respected her abilities. Now, as Admiral, she had risked quite a lot

in guaranteeing the Admiralty that this project would be a success.

The Admiralty was full of nay-sayers when it came to women serving in

the Royal Navy, and Captain Hammond, jealous of her success, had been

the most outspoken opponent.

Captain Victoria Jones was to come aboard today, and Ruth was

determined that she would find no fault with the crew, the officers,

or the ship. She had not served with this new Captain, but had heard

many good things of her. Many of the crew had volunteered once they

heard she was to be Captain; her tenacity in battle, and her

reputation had lured many a woman to sign up.

Ruth found her hat and stepped into the wardroom, nearly colliding

with Midshipman Morgan.

"Good morning, sir." The Midshipman smiled and knuckled her forehead.

"Good morning, Miss Morgan." The First Lieutenant said. "How fared

you your first night aboard?"

"Very well, sir, but . . ." She hesitated.

"But?"

"Well, sir, the ship, it smells . . . different from the other

ships."

Ruth laughed and looked about her, "Aye, indeed it does, but given a

week or so, and the Monstrous will hold much the same odors as the

others."

Yes, the /Monstrous/ did smell, or better put, did not smell. She was

fresh from the shipyard, a 74-gun, third-rate ship of the line, the

envy of the Admiral's fleet. She still held her scent of fresh paint,

sail, tar, and oak, but that would soon enough be replaced by the

overpowering stench of humanity, animals, and, with any luck,

gunpowder.

"Well, Miss Morgan," she continued, "There is one odor by which I am

not confused; Judith is up much too early and, from the smell of it,

has been busily preparing breakfast. Would you care to join me?" she

asked.

The young Midshipman hesitated once again, unsure of her superior's

reaction, and fearing to cause offense so soon.

"Sir, with the greatest respect, but I really do not care for food at

this hour, unless this is an order?"

Ruth well understood her hesitation in declining; it would not bode

well for a Midshipman to get off on the wrong foot so early with the

First Lieutenant, but Ruth took no offense.

"No, Miss Morgan, it is not an order. I'll see you on deck shortly,

you may go." Ruth said kindly.

"Aye, aye, sir, and thank you!" She said cheerily and nearly skipped

to the ladder to go topside.

As Ruth watched her climb the ladder, a smile crept across her face.

The young Midshipman was high spirited, but she was loyal, efficient,

and competent; she had handled her duties extremely well yesterday.

She made a mental note to put in a word for her to the Captain.

Much to her amazement, Judith had just placed a feast out for her.

Zenia was watching hopefully from across the room; her tail began to

wag again as she saw the First Lieutenant glance her way.

"Good morning, sir," Judith said cheerily in a low tone so as not to

wake the sleeping officers.

"Good morning, Judith. Ah, Judith, not that I am ungrateful for this

welcomed feast, but it is not customary for either the officers or

crew to eat until the Forenoon watch begins." Indeed, Ruth was not

ungrateful for the food, the smells emanating from the plate before

her had set her mouth to watering even before she had awakened. But

Naval discipline had to be preserved, and if she could not prove to

her Captain that she could manage the crew, she might well find

herself beached once more.

"Aye, I'm well aware of a ship's schedule Lieutenant." Judith

responded absently, and turned back to her brazier.

"Then you understand fully that the schedule must be kept for order

to be maintained aboard His Majesty's ships?" Ruth asked.

"Aye, indeed it must be." Judith acknowledged, but continued her

cooking. "Now that is very odd, I could have sworn there were more

sausages in this pan; I know my eyesight has not failed me to this

extent."

"Judith, if you please. Since you are so familiar with a ship's

schedule, may I ask why you took it upon yourself to begin cooking

before the appointed time."

Judith turned and smiled softly at the small woman standing before

her. "Because, sir, you needed a good hot breakfast before you began

your duties – you barely touched a thing yesterday. Besides, with the

Captain coming aboard this morning, I thought it might benefit you to

have something on your stomach. You have a very busy day ahead of

you."

Ruth sighed wearily. "Tomorrow morning, Judith, please follow the

schedule. There are many who would happily see us fail on this ship.

In everything we do, we must not only meet Royal Navy standards, but

exceed them. I would not have Admiral Regent or Captain Jones made a

laughing stock because we could not maintain discipline among these

women. Do you understand?"

Judith had watched her closely during her reproach. The First

Lieutenant's back had remained as stiff as a boarding pike, but her

face betrayed her emotions; she was most likely a horrid card player.

It was difficult to judge her age; the sea and the war aged everyone

beyond their years, but Judith guessed her to be about forty. She

wondered if the rumors about Miss Christian were true.

Judith gave her that patient smile once again, "Aye, Lieutenant, I

understand, of course I will follow the ship's schedule when we are

at sea, just as required, but we are not at sea at the moment,

and /you/ needed hot food on this cold morning."

Ruth laughed, despite herself, but stopped quickly, "Judith, that is

splitting hairs. I . . ."

Judith held a hand up for her silence. The Lieutenant was about to

reprimand her when she heard the peculiar noise, too. They glanced at

each other and then towards the fore. Ruth strode forward and stepped

down the darkened companionway. The lanterns cast eerie shadows

throughout, and one's imagination could play tricks.

"I see nothing." She said, turning back. "Perhaps it was rats, even

on a ship this new they would come aboard with the provisions." Ruth

stated matter of factly.

"Maybe . . ." Judith commented distractedly and turned to look down

the companionway once more. She glanced over at Zenia who had

remained oddly still. The dog licked her lips and lay down on the

deck, her head on her paws, her eyes darting occasionally towards the

companionway. It was unusual that Zenia would not have reacted to a

noise that Judith heard. She knew she could trust her own ears, and

she /had/ heard something. She turned back to the Lieutenant and the

table.

"Miss Christian, sir, please eat your breakfast before it grows cold.

I do promise you that this will not be a regular occurrence; today is

a special day for us all."

Ruth could not argue with that logic and sat down to taste the fare

put before her. After the first few tentative bites, she devoured the

remainder and drank deeply of the hot coffee; it tasted a bit

different, but it was quite good, and it brought delightful warmth to

her body. The eighth bell rang; Ruth stood quickly and drained the

coffee in the cup before leaving.

Zenia stood and walked over to the table in hopes that a bit of the

scraps might be given to her.

"Sorry, Zenny, she cleaned the plate." Judith petted Zenia's head and

knelt on the deck before her. "Now, tell me the truth, did you steal

those sausages from my pan?"

************ *********

The First Lieutenant strode confidently through the second gun deck,

careful to avoid disturbing the hammocks full of sleeping women.

Those whose watch had ended were already asleep. Her mind was

entirely occupied by her duties and had just turned to climb the

ladder when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. She

turned quickly – nothing. Were the shadows cast by the light playing

tricks on her? She held her lantern above her head and looked about

the deck again. She heard a scraping sound behind the ladder and

turned back. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she came nose to

nose with one of the seamen.

"Good Lord, woman, you gave me a start." She whispered harshly. "Was

that you making that noise?"

"Beggin' your pardon, what noise, sir?"

"That odd scraping sound."

"I've just came down the ladder, sir." The seaman replied.

Ruth held the lantern nearer to the woman to look her over more

closely. "What is your name, seaman?"

"Mary Sandy, sir, Able Seaman, most just call me Squintyboots. " She

casually replied. "My watch is over, and I was just coming down to

sleep." Squintyboots looked down at her boots and then back up at the

First Lieutenant, her eyes squinting slightly.

Ruth couldn't be sure if the strange squint was due to poor vision or

if it was merely a nervous habit.

"Get you to sleep then, Sandy." Ruth replied curtly, still

embarrassed by the fright she had received. Squintyboots walked off,

her boots `clomping' with each step she took. She didn't make that

much noise coming down the ladder, Ruth thought. The Lieutenant

turned and climbed the ladder to the upper deck.

She paused a moment when she reached the top and breathed deeply of

the cold, sharp air. There was no other feeling like it in the world –

to stand upon the deck of such a ship and know the awesome power

that she held. It was dark yet, and the fore and aft lanterns gave

off an ethereal glow in the fog. She glanced up and could barely make

out the women in the shrouds.

"Sir." Midshipman Morgan greeted her.

"Miss Morgan." The Lieutenant acknowledged. "Did you see that seaman

who just went below, the one with the noisy boots?" She asked.

Miss Morgan looked puzzled, "Seaman, sir? No, I fear I did not."

"Very well, what have you to report?" Ruth asked as she took the

quarter deck.

"All's quiet, sir. The remainder of the provisions will be arriving

first thing this morning. With the assistance of Miss Smith's

division, we will have them stowed below quickly."

"Very good, please see that the Marines remain on alert, I'll not

have any men sneaking on board before the Captain arrives. Also, have

them search the ship before we make weigh, I want any men found to be

thrown overboard. These women were warned that that kind of behavior

would not be tolerated on the /Monstrous/. "

"Aye aye, sir," she acknowledged and stepped off the quarterdeck to

begin her round.

That was one problem that was simple enough to dispose of, but there

were many more to overcome. Most of the officers on board

the /Monstrous/ had never served together; trust would be an

immediate issue. As the First Lieutenant, it would be her

responsibility to set the pace and see to it that they sailed

together as smoothly as possible.

Her most troublesome worry at the moment had just come aboard

yesterday in the form of Third Lieutenant Elaine Harvey; a statuesque

beauty with charm and wit better suited to the dance floor at

Almack's. Ruth had known her kind before, just not aboard one of His

Majesty's ships. Admiral Regent had warned her that Harvey might get

the assignment and that trouble would not be far behind; she bred

suspicion, discontent, and hatred like most women bred children.

Women like her was why the rest of them had a difficult time

advancing through the ranks; the men tended to judge them not on

their strategic and fighting abilities, but on their appearance and

sociability. She was far too clever a woman not to be watched.

The only remaining officers not yet come aboard were the Captain and

her Master, William Tindall. That one was a surprise – a man on board

a ship full of women. Ruth could only hope the Captain knew what she

was about with that one.

"SIR!"

In the quietness of the early morning, the loudness of the voice

startled Ruth.

"Aye, Miss . . . Smith." It took her a moment to remember the new

Midshipman's name. "If you please, lower your voice an octave, the

crew are still sleeping. Now, it is not your watch, why are you about

so early?" This tiny young woman was at least one person she could

physically look down upon.

The Midshipman stood very erect, very . . . stiff. "Sir, I hoped that

I might be of some service to you or the other officers this morning.

I am willing and able to do whatever might be necessary; I wish to

learn everything there is to know about His Majesty's Navy, sir. I am

up to the task."

Ruth pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at the

zealousness of the young one; she meant well.

"Well, perhaps you won't have to learn everything in one day, Miss

Smith. However, your assistance will be greatly appreciated once the

remainder of the stores is delivered this morn. Your division will be

ready?"

"Aye aye, sir!" She shouted.

Ruth winced, wondering how many tired seamen that one had awakened.

That voice would come in very handy during battle on the gundecks,

and she would learn to moderate it for general conversation – Ruth

hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

"Very good, Miss Smith. I wish to have everything below before the

Captain arrives, thank you." Ruth had thought that would serve as a

dismissal, but the Midshipman didn't seem to get the hint.

"That will be all, Miss Smith."

"Oh, aye aye, sir." She touched her hat and left – as stiffly as she

had arrived.

Was I ever that young, Ruth wondered absently and then mentally

laughed at herself - yes, young and naïve.

************ ********* *

Eight bells and the fog had given way to a brilliant, beautiful

morning; hopefully, a portent of their future. The sound of the

carpenters hammering and sawing; the seamen stowing away their

hammocks; the smell of breakfast cooking – all familiar sights,

sounds, and smells to the First Lieutenant. The last of the

provisions had been delivered and the remaining pressed crew were on

board. Second Lieutenant Claarijke Rackham had overseen the press

gang – and a sorry lot they were – prostitutes, thieves, and debtors.

This was not the fault of Lieutenant Rackham, the Admiralty had

insisted that the crew be all women, but they didn't offer

suggestions on how to go about finding them. The /Monstrous/ had many

women who had volunteered, but a crew of at least 500 was necessary

to sail her, more really, but they would take what they could get.

Ruth watched as the two Midshipmen approached her; Nerrissa Morgan –

outgoing, friendly, and garrulous; and Cecily Smith – reserved,

enthusiastic, and steadfast; both highly intelligent and committed

women. The /Monstrous/ was fortunate to have them.

"Miss Christian, sir, the provisions are all stowed below." Reported

Miss Morgan.

"Very good, ladies. My compliments to Miss Rackham, and would she

please join me on the quarterdeck. "

"Aye sir."

Ruth turned to look at the quay; the Captain was due within the hour,

and everything appeared to be falling into place on board.

"Good morning, First Lieutenant." Came a voice as soft and smooth as

silk, or as slippery as an eel, was a better description.

She had not heard her approach, but knew without turning that the

voice belonged to Miss Harvey.

"Good morning, Miss Harvey," Ruth said with as much cheer as possible

and plastered a fake smile on her face before turning. The Third

Lieutenant stood much too close for comfort, and her 5'11' frame

towered over Ruth's diminutive 5'4", but that did not intimidate her,

she was accustomed to looking up at the male officers. Her uniform

was expertly cut and accentuated every curve. Ruth reminded herself

not to feel inferior in her well-used uniform and cheap cotton

stockings. She had polished her shoes and buckles for over an hour

last night, and they still did not have the luster that Harvey's

carried. Of course, Harvey had brought her personal steward aboard

with her to see to those tasks.

"Miss Harvey, I trust the new landsmen are all situated and settled

in?"

"Aye, they are, but I fear that the cat will touch many a back before

the week is out." Her blue-green eyes sparkled like ice at the

thought.

Ruth shivered involuntarily; she had always felt a failure when

corporal punishment had become necessary.

"Well, Miss Harvey, let us hope they learn quickly and obey orders,

which will keep them from the grating." Ruth was spared further

conversation when the Second Lieutenant stepped onto the quarterdeck –

she was successful in not breathing a sigh of relief.

`Claarijke," Ruth addressed her informally, without thinking, glad of

her arrival. "The Captain is expected on board within the hour, is

everything in order for her arrival?"

"Aye, sir. The carpenters just finished in the great cabin, and

Lovelace is fussing over the finishing touches." Miss Rackham was

counting off on her fingers as she spoke, not wanting to forget a

thing.

"The idlers are being kept busy below decks stacking the provisions.

The Marines found three men hidden in the cable tiers, and they were

tossed through the gun ports." She was still holding up one finger as

though she couldn't remember what that last item was, or was she

hesitating?

"Aye, Miss Rackham?" Ruth probed.

"The, uh, gentleman's quarters, sir . . ." she hesitated, "we have

them ready."

"A man?" asked Harvey, incredulous over this revelation.

Ruth imagined she could see the gears turning in Harvey's head.

"Does the Admiralty know of this? Really, I was given the impression

that this little experiment was to be ladies only. Imagine, a man

among all these women. Won't he be the cock of the walk?" purred

Harvey as she stepped off the quarterdeck.

Ruth watched as she slithered up to the Midshipmen. How smooth she

is, Ruth marveled. The woman charmed and cajoled the younger women,

and had them giggling and smiling at her within moments. It was

obvious she was winning them over.

"I don't trust that one, Ruth." Claarijke said.

Ruth turned back to look at her, "Neither do I, my friend, neither do

I. I think it would pay us both to watch her closely. I wouldn't be

surprised if one of the dissenters in the Admiralty had positioned

her among us."

"Should we tell the Captain?"

"No, let's not be too hasty. Let's give her a bit of rope and see if

she hangs herself; charming a shipload of women will be much more

difficult than a ship of men."

"Lieutenant! " came the shout from Miss Smith.

"Aye, Miss Smith?" asked Ruth, her voice not so easily carrying over

the deck as Smith's.

Miss Smith walked hurriedly to her, "Sir, I think that is the

Captain's boat that just pushed off from the quay."

Ruth took her telescope and looked over the water, and then closed

the glass smartly. "Indeed it is Miss Smith; please have the Marines

assemble and send word for the other officers to report."

Ruth glanced around the deck to check for anything that might be out

of place. She prepared to walk across, but had to nimbly step around

one of the idlers who had just finished scrubbing and had stepped

into her path. The idler was not so nimble, caught her foot in the

cables, and fell with an ignominious splash – the filthy contents of

the bucket soaked the First Lieutenant from waist to toe.

All eyes went to her. Ruth heard a snort of laughter from behind and

knew from whence that came. She closed her eyes to calm herself.

"Sir," Midshipman Smith began in a rush, "this is a flagrant

violation of Article 22 of the Articles of War. This woman clearly

attacked an officer of His Majesty's Navy and . . ."

"Miss Smith," Ruth nearly shouted in her frustration, and then

steadied herself, "this was an accident, not a pre-meditated event."

Ruth heard another snort from somewhere behind her, but she wouldn't

give the woman the satisfaction. She gazed down at the young woman

cowering on the deck.

"What is your name?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Tatiana, sir, Tatiana Orrock, I . . . I volunteered. " She nearly

squeaked like a mouse in her fear.

All anger left Ruth as she looked down at the terrified girl; tears

were running down her cheeks, making clean paths across the filthy

face. There was no time for sympathy at this moment.

"Ship ahoy." Came the challenging shout from the masts.

"Monstrous," came the answering call from the boat.

The Captain had arrived.