A War by Diplomacy

by John G. Cragg

  “Sir Walcott, I have come to take you to Glaucus. We will be leaving immediately,” Giles announced firmly.

  “I cannot possibly do that, Captain Giles. I have to recover from the shock of what occurred last night. Can you believe it? A troop of Cossacks – very handsome Cossacks they were too – came and took Sasha away. I fear for his backside. Such villainous, appealing men they were! Very upsetting. They also seized my two servants, can you believe it? How am I to get dressed properly?”

  “Sir Walcott,” announced Lord Malthampton. “You must accompany Captain Giles now! I am surprised that the Tsar didn’t have you executed and then have his minister apologize profusely for not realizing that you have diplomatic immunity. My aides have been working to obtain the release of your servants, but I would not be overly hopeful.”

  “Carstairs, accompany Sir Walcott to his room and help him dress quickly,” Giles ordered.

  “Princess, please show us where Sir Walcott’s luggage is kept. Captain, please send another man to help clean out Sir Walcott’s room.” Lord Malthampton was taking charge of getting Sir Walcott out of the country. Giles did as he was asked. The Princess had already sent several of her servants to get Sir Walcott’s luggage and take it to the boat. She then turned to Giles.

  “Captain, what will become of me? I am exiled to Sasha’s estate a long, long way even from Moscow. Not to one of his residences nearer to civilization, but one far away. What will I do? I cannot live there! Please help me. The boredom will kill me. Can’t you take me to England on your frigate? After all, it is all Sir Walcott’s fault and you brought him here. I told Sasha to be discreet, but he wouldn’t listen and that flaming … flaming … flaming I-don’t-know-what to call him … pederast …has brought this upon me.”

  Lord Malthampton intervened, “I am sorry, your highness, but that is impossible. Captain Giles would be placing himself and the British government in a very precarious position if he were to thwart the commands of the Tsar. There is nothing we can do for you.”

  That declaration did not halt the Princess, though she switched to French, probably to harangue Lord Malthampton more effectively. He seemed to be giving as good as he got. Giles left them to it, so that he could make sure that the luggage would be loaded into the cutter and stowed properly. He noticed that Sir Walcott’s possessions included several crates stenciled in Russian. Had the baronet acquired a taste for vodka while he was in St. Petersburg? Time would tell.

  The boat was quickly loaded. Sir Walcott donned a splendid fur coat and hat in the Russian style and Giles made sure that he did not dally any longer. Lord Malthampton gave up his argument with the Princess, rather unhappily it seemed to Giles, in order not to be left behind. At least the Princess had not pursued her pleadings outdoors so they were able to depart in a quiet manner without attracting undue attention.

  Giles wasted no time leaving Kronstadt. A courtesy visit to Admiral Stroganoff to thank him for his assistance and to bid him farewell was quickly completed, even though no less than four glasses of vodka had to be downed before Giles could leave the flagship. Then quick orders to Mr. Hendricks had the crew raising the anchor and setting the sails to depart from the harbor. Giles was eager to leave behind him the diplomatic subtleties that dealing with the Russians had required. So much so that for once he was not nervous about getting underway while being the focus of telescopes from the whole fleet. Possibly the vodka had removed his usual anxiety.

  Soon Glaucus was passing the merchant harbor of Kronstadt. Mr. Brooks pointed out that all the British trading vessels had already left. His noting that the ships had certainly not tarried when there was chance of early frost stranding them in the port emphasized how important was Glaucus’s departure from St. Petersburg. As Kotlin Island was left in their wake and with the sails were trimmed to take them westward, Giles wondered if he would ever again see Russian shores. Would he regret it if he never returned or would he be indifferent?

  Glaucus’s passage westward through the Baltic Sea was uneventful. The winds were favorable, varying from north-north-west to north-east so that the frigate did not have to beat to windward. Few squalls interrupted her smooth passage. Such squalls as they did encounter were invariably accompanied by sleet or snow and each day dawned colder than the one before it. Every night hoar frost formed on the rigging and the decks were icy and had to be sanded.

  The slippery conditions could be blamed for the disappearance one cloudy night of Humphries, Sir Walcott’s one-time servant. He was reported missing when the watch changed and it was presumed that he had fallen overboard. There was no hope of finding him even if Glaucus stopped and lowered boats to search for him. Giles was suspicious. It had been a quiet night and someone on deck should have heard him cry out when he went over the side and, anyway, the conditions were not so treacherous as to render falling over the side likely. His suspicions were confirmed when he asked Carstairs if he thought that Humphries might have been helped over the side. Carstairs looked wise and simply shrugged his shoulders. Some members of the crew must have decided that they should dispose of the troublemaker before he got more of them into hot water. Giles was thankful that the crew had removed a problem which he had known that he would have to deal with before long. He transmitted that feeling to Carstairs to relay to the crew, without a further word on the subject being spoken.

  The crew did not seem at all bothered by the presumed drowning of Humphries. Not so Sir Walcott. He was quite shaken up by the news. “That is terrible, Captain Giles, just awful. He was such a good servant. Very strong. Very determined. Bit on the rough side, but sometimes that is what is needed. Oh, I am quite heart-broken, Captain Giles. Heart-broken! And it’s all your fault. If you hadn’t been so petty about my servants, I would still be able to enjoy his services!”

  Giles was quite taken aback. People of Sir Walcott’s rank were not supposed to show any feeling for the death of a servant, let alone make such an effusive declamation. Luckily, he did not have to see much of Sir Walcott. The baronet dined alone, for Giles had become sufficiently disgusted by his behavior in St. Petersburg that he did not invite him to dine either with himself or in company with his officers. He did suspect that the special ambassador would have refused an invitation even if one had been extended.

  Soon after the disappearance of Humphries, Sir Walcott resumed his practice of appearing on deck occasionally. He was now dressed in his luxurious fur coat and hat. He would have looked quite the Russian grandee had he strode confidently about the quarterdeck. Instead, after a few steps, he would huddle in a voluminous sea cloak clutched over his Russian coat and hat, looking totally miserable. The misery, Giles suspected, came more from his passenger feeling sorry for himself rather than from his mourning his despicable servant. Except for polite greetings, no one paid Sir Walcott any attention and he would soon return to his cabin.

  This routine continued until Glaucus came to the right turn leading into the Øresund. Ahead, a flock of merchant ships was gathered not moving, pointing in all directions as if they were huddling together in the hope of escaping some undersea menace. One look through the telescope confirmed to Giles the lookout’s identification of the ships as being some of the British merchant ships that had departed St. Petersburg ahead of them. As Glaucus approached the group of ships, she was greeted by various signals indicating distress and gestures that indicated that she should stop.

  Giles backed the main topsail and came to a halt near the collection of merchant ships. Even before Glaucus stopped, small boats left the individual ships obviously intending to meet with the representative of the Royal Navy. The merchant captains came aboard one by one, the time between their arrivals determined only by how swiftly one boat could move off to let the next one deliver its captain. Soon a babble of shipmasters was trying to get Giles’s attention with their news. He remained polite, but non-committal, until all were aboard. Then he said in a stentorian voice, “Welcome all. What seems to be the problem?”

  B
abbling broke out once more, until Giles held up his hands to quiet the noise. “One at a time, please, gentlemen. You, sir, I remember you from St. Petersburg. Captain Carruthers, I believe. You were one of the most vocal about the difficulties that you gentlemen encounter in leaving the Baltic.”

  “Yes, sir. I am afraid that the pirates have struck again, and have taken one of our British vessels with a cargo bound for London.”

  “Tell me how it happened.”

  The story emerged with many an interruption from the various other officers to supplement Captain Carruthers’ account. The British ships had been sailing in convoy in the hope of being able to discourage the privateers. As they turned towards the entrance to the Øresund, they were faced with the problem of sailing into the wind and became scattered, possibly because this close to Copenhagen, they all felt safe. In any case, the leading ship, a vessel called Judy’s Luck, whose master was called Captain John Carbuckle, had surged into the lead and had decided to go close to Swedish shore. This mariner, it seemed, had always been one of the captains who fretted most about the disadvantages of sailing in convoy since he had one of the fastest ships. As Judy’s Luck cleared the end of a peninsula that hooked northwards, just after the passage to the North Sea itself turned north, she was close to the shore. Suddenly a schooner appeared from behind the headland. It was flying the French flag and was armed with four guns a side. Captain Carruthers thought that they were twelve pounders. It was the work of minutes for the privateer to seize Judy’s Luck. Both vessels disappeared behind the headland before any of the other ships could attempt a rescue even if they had been so inclined.

  The seizure of Judy’s Luck caused consternation among the other ships. A conference was held and they decided that they dare not proceed, since the schooner appeared to be more than a match for even a pair of their own ships and the raid had happened so quickly that the privateer could easily capture another one or two before they could do anything about it. Some had argued for their gathering all their sailors on a couple of Trojan horse vessels in the hope of overwhelming the privateer when she tried to capture them, but no one would volunteer his ship and most of the captains pointed out that none of their crew had signed on to engage in attacking enemies. They would wait for nightfall and then hope to sneak past the marauder.

  Giles’s inclination was certainly not to ignore the threat, even though Glaucus would be quite safe from the privateer’s attack. However, he had to reckon on the repercussions of any action he took. The privateer was clearly using Swedish waters. Was she under Swedish protection? The Swedes must be aware of her presence. After all, the ancient town of Malmo was just a few miles up the coast. However, there would not be any naval ships stationed at that port and it was a long way to Stockholm to call for help. In any case, the Swedish government would probably not be overly concerned about French privateers attacking vessels that were not Swedish. By the same token, Giles could hope that they would not be overly sensitive to Glaucus removing the threat to British shipping. It certainly wouldn’t be enough to make them ally with Bonaparte.

  Giles realized that, although it clearly exceeded his orders, he must capture this menace to shipping and rescue the British ship. Holding up his hand for silence, he first asked Mr. Brooks for a glance at his chart. As he had recalled from his previous examination of the map, it was shoal water around and beyond the headland and someone had written “soundings* not reliable in this area.” He couldn’t use Glaucus to capture the schooner. The danger of grounding was too great. The capture of the schooner would have to be done using only his boats.

  Giles took control of the gathering again. “I am going to capture this privateer and rescue your comrades. I will do it after nightfall. I suggest that you all stay together here, but be prepared to get underway a bit before sunset and follow me when I start as if I am leading you through the passage. I shall be close to the eastern shore and you should all appear to be keeping together and moving farther to larboard. The signal that I have been successful will be a red lantern at the main topgallant truck. I would suggest that you then proceed together through the Øresund. I will be stopped for a considerable time, I imagine.”

  Turning to the Master, he asked, “When is moonrise tonight, Mr. Brooks.”

  It was no surprise that the answer came back immediately. “Shortly after three bells of the second dog-watch, sir. It will be a gibbous moon rising on a bearing of north east by east.”

  “For those who do not understand naval time keeping, Mr. Brooks is telling us that the moon will be rising a bit after 7:30 p.m. so you can expect to proceed around eight o’clock. Good luck.”

  When the merchant-ship captains had left, Giles gathered his officers together. “We are going to have a cutting-out expedition against that sloop. She must be lurking somewhere beyond that headland. A bit before sunset, we will start sailing into the Øresund as if we have decided to lead the other ships through the passage. We will be trailing all our boats behind us. Just after sunset, while there is still enough light to see clearly, as we come about near the headland, our jib sheet will part. It will somehow foul the staysail sheet. Mr. Brooks knows how to execute that trick. We will drop a sea anchor as if to hold Glaucus’s head steady as we get the sheets untangled and a new jib sheet rigged. While that is happening, the boats will be brought in, presumably to prevent them fouling each other. As soon as the boats are out of sight of the headland, our men will board them. Mr. Macauley, all your marines will take part in the assault. Divide them among the boats. Mr. Hendricks will be in command. The other two boats will be commanded by Mr. Miller and Mr. Stewart. Mr. Hendricks, you may choose the seamen who will go with you. Your first job will be to take this schooner. Then secure the British ship that has been captured. Attack just as the moon is about to rise so you will have some light.”

  Giles was about to give even more detailed orders when he remembered that they would probably interfere with the efficient taking of the enemy. He couldn’t anticipate exactly what problems his officers would face and giving them too many instructions might inhibit them from acting in the best ways to overcome unforeseen difficulties. Instead, his next order was, “Right. You all know what to do. Get on with it.”

  Time bore heavily on all crewmembers as they waited for sundown. Giles would have much preferred to begin a fight the minute it was decided to engage, but that was not the usual the way in naval warfare. It was particularly difficult when all they could do was wait for the right time. Surely, there must be some more orders he could give to ensure success. He restrained himself. His officers knew their business and nagging at them would only produce unhelpful and distracting annoyance, which they would not be able to express to their commander.

  Finally, the sun sank behind the Danish coast. Mr. Brooks had indeed done his job. Glaucus was in exactly the right position, close to the shore almost at the end of the point of land. With the light fading, they could only just be seen from the shore and watchers ashore might have difficulty making out the details of their actions. Glaucus came about. The jib sheet was slashed by a seaman positioned so that there was no chance of anyone not on the frigate seeing his action. Men swarmed aloft to furl the sails while a sea anchor was thrown to keep the ship from falling back. Somehow, the boats that had been trailing behind the frigate were swept to the larboard side that was away from the shore. No time was wasted pulling them up to the ship so that the raiding parties could board. With everything ready, they waited for another few minutes. A flurry of activity broke out after the jib sheet had been mended. The sails were unfurled and the frigate gathered way on the starboard tack again. Hopefully, no one on shore would be able to see the three boats unship their oars and pull towards the headland.

  Giles kept pulling out his pocket watch and holding it to the binnacle light to see how much time had passed since the boats had started towards the end of the headland. The hands of the timepiece seemed to be stuck. He even held the watch to his ear to make sure that i
t was still working. Finally, the time came to turn back towards the land. It was now full dark, though the land could just be made out as a blacker patch in the darkness off the starboard bow. Mr. Brooks, whose sang-froid in difficult circumstances was legendary, was having the log* dropped into the water almost as soon as it was recovered. He was also constantly ordering slight changes to the sails, even though he must have known that such frequent attention to their progress would have little effect on where Glaucus would end up when the moon rose. Finally, light could be seen through the trees to the northeast. Moments later, it was clear that the moon was rising. Soon the water to starboard was illuminated. They could make out a schooner at anchor half a mile to leeward and behind her what must be three merchant vessels, not just the one they had expected to find. Giles ordered that Glaucus heave to* until they could determine just what was happening. As the order was being executed, several flashes of light were seen from the deck of the schooner. They must be muskets or pistols being fired, so that the cutting-out parties had succeeded in finding the schooner. A little later, boats could be seen heading from the schooner towards the anchored merchant ships. The schooner, after another pause in the action, could be seen to be raising her sails and to be moving. She must have anchored on a buoy to get underway so quickly. In moments, her head had turned to bring her onto the starboard tack. The merchant ships must have been anchored, for while men could be seen on her yards ready to loose the sails, they remained head to the wind for some time. Then they too were underway. Giles wondered about the identity of the two extra ships.

  The schooner was the first of the captured vessels that came up to Glaucus. Lieutenant. Hendricks returned to the frigate with a rather scruffy looking man who reeked of garlic.