Peregrine

by Aye, Michael

  “Aye,” Gabe replied slowly. It will take months to put his Peregrine back in shape.

  “Well, we’ll discuss another command for you. We have decided Drake was a lawful prize and will purchase her. Based on both Admiral Buck’s and your recommendations we will put Hazard in command. Too bad you didn’t capture one of the corvettes. It would have been a good ship to give Jepson his step up. He will get it soon however. Good man, Jepson. Your brother was quite right to promote him and give him a command.”

  Hearing a knock Gabe knew his time was up.

  “Do you have a place to stay here in London?” Lord Sandwich asked.

  “Yes, my Lord. My sister and her husband have a house here.”

  Smiling, Lord Sandwich spoke. “Ah yes, your brother-in-law, Hugh. Not satisfied being a country squire, he now dabbles in politics. Course he’s on the right side, at least for now.”

  As Gabe was ushered from the First Lord’s office the clerk asked, “Would you give us the address where you’ll be staying, sir, so that we may be able to reach you on short notice?”

  * * *

  The servant girl who answered the door looked Gabe up and down. “Yes?”

  “I’m Captain Anthony,” Gabe announced.

  Before he could get any further a squeal pierced the air. “It’s Uncle Gabe, Mother, Uncle Gabe is home.”

  The servant girl barely had time to step aside as Gretchen raced to Gabe and hugged him. Gretchen had grown over the years and had changed from a little snit to a very attractive young lady. The squeal hadn’t changed however. Hugh and Becky came from the study. Becky hugged Gabe and Hugh shook his hand vigorously. The group then went into the library where a small fire was burning in the fireplace to ward off the evening chill. Refreshments were ordered and served. Gretchen sat down beside Gabe and hugged his arm to her.

  Hugh said, “Damme, Gabe, but you are the toast of the town. Nay, all of England.”

  Becky rose from the chair she was sitting in and crossed over to the couch. Sitting on the arm she leaned over, her arm around her brother and kissed his cheek.

  “Father would have been so proud of you,” she said. “Every time I look at you I see him as he was when I was a little girl.” Gabe could feel a tear drop from her eye and run down his face. “Oh damn it, Gabe, I love you so much. It tears my heart apart every time I think of you and Gil in …” Becky had to pause as she sniffed and wiped her eyes. Sniffing again she continued, “In those sea battles. One day you’ll be hurt…or worse.”

  The two were still hugging when the servant came to announce dinner. So this was England’s hero, she thought. He’s a handsome devil to be the fire-eater the paper made him out to be.

  Epilogue

  Gabe sat on the edge of his bed. It was nine o’ clock. The proper time to rise, he thought. He could hear voices below. Dagan and Gabe’s mother no doubt. The brother and sister had spent a lot of time together since returning to Portsmouth. When they had got back from London, Hex had asked for and been given a few days to visit relatives in Deal.

  “Don’t murder anybody,” Gabe had half-joked, not sure the man had completed his vendetta against those who taken his family down. Pouring water over his toothbrush Gabe attempted to brush away the aftertaste of cigar and drink. The celebration last evening at the George Inn had been a continuation of one that had started in London.

  Gabe had been knighted. He was now Sir Gabriel, Knight of the Bath. His mother had stood next to Becky and Gretchen during the ceremony. Tears of joy streaming down Becky’s face, damned if his sister…yes, his sister, didn’t cry at every turn. Gretchen had held his mother’s hand. Hugh, along with Hazard and Jepson, had stood behind the women, Dagan and Hex to one side. Admiral Buck along with Lord Sandwich stood with several men from Parliament across from Gabe’s family and friends. Had Gil and Faith been there it would have been perfect, Gabe thought. The family had celebrated that night and the next day Hugh had taken Gabe in tow to see his banker.

  “You are far too rich to put all your money in one bank or with one investor,” Hugh declared. “You need to diversify.”

  So with Hugh’s guidance, Gabe invested in the Honourable East India Company, a shipbuilding company that needed cash to update its yards to fulfill its contracts with the Navy. He also bought lands including a hundred or so acres next to Deborah’s on Antigua, through an agent Hugh knew well and trusted.

  “How did you know about the shipyard?” Gabe had asked.

  “I’m not interested in politics just for politics,” Hugh admitted with a smile.

  * * *

  Gabe had finished dressing and was making his way down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee when a knock was heard. His mother’s servant answered the knock and ushered the visitor into the kitchen where Gabe sat. Recognizing his visitor, Gabe rose and pumped the man’s hand.

  “Stephen Earl! Damme, sir, but it’s good to see you. Sit down. I’ll get you a cup of coffee.”

  After the men talked for awhile catching up on old times Earl leaned back and asked, “Have you heard Buck has lost his flagship?”

  Gabe, who was leaning back in his chair as he usually did, rocked forward, concern on his face. “How?” he asked.

  “Gaol fever,” Earl answered.

  “Typhus!” Gabe exclaimed as a chill ran through his body.

  “Aye, I’m sure they cleaned all the gallows-bait out of Newgate to man the flagship. Those whoresons were probably riddled in louse and it didn’t take any time to run through the crew. I hear seventy men are dead already and the captain is down with chills and fever. Likely he’ll die too. The whole ship is quarantined and they say they’ll try the new method to get rid of the fever.”

  “What’s the new method?” Gabe asked. “I haven’t heard of it.”

  “They burn sulphur in cans letting the smoke drift throughout the ship until every nook and cranny has been fumigated. This was recommended by some Doctor Lind.”

  “Well, that’s too bad about Buck.”

  “I don’t know,” Earl replied, his eyes bright and his smile mischievous. “Our new admiral has been given another flagship, HMS Trident, and you have been given command of her. She’s a sixty-four but sails like a frigate. She’s one hundred and fifty-eight feet long and forty-five feet in the beam. Her main gun deck carries twenty-six twenty-four pounders; the upper gun deck carries twenty-six eighteen pounders. There are ten four pounders on the quarterdeck and they are replacing the nine pounders on the forecastle with smashers.”

  “How is it you know so much about this ship?” Gabe asked curiously.

  “Because she was, is mine,” Earl answered. “That is until we have a change of command.”

  “But…but what about you?” Gabe muttered.

  “Oh, I have orders for a seventy-four. I’m to be Lord Anthony’s new flag captain.”

  * * *

  Later, after assuming command of Trident, Gabe sat with Buck in the admiral’s dining room. Nesbit was serving refreshments and the men had finished discussing the need to complete Buck’s staff before sailing. Dawkins had decided to retire so Gabe also had an opening to fill. The sound of an approaching boat was heard and, in a matter of minutes, the first lieutenant was announced.

  Handing a leather bag to the admiral he stated, “Just arrived sir.”

  Taking the bag, Buck thanked the lieutenant. He opened it, took out his orders, broke the wax seal and began to read. “Um huh, yes, as I expected.” Folding the papers he looked at Gabe. “Orders sure enough.”

  “May I ask where?” Gabe said.

  “Yes. When the squadron is complete, we are to make up a group patrolling the southern colonies. Savannah, Georgia will be our homeport.”

  “Savannah,” Gabe repeated.

  “Aye,” Buck answered. “We’ve taken the city and our job is to make sure we keep it.”

  Gabe only half heard. His mind was on Faith. How would she take the news? Would her people welcome her back being married to a British sea
captain? Too many questions, Gabe thought. But at least he was going back. Back to Faith and their child…a boy child if Nanny was to be believed. A boy child.

  Appendix

  HISTORICAL NOTES

  The French signed a treaty with the Colonies and in April 1778 Comte d’Estaing sailed from Toulon with a squadron of one ninety gun ship, one eighty gun ship, six seventy-fours, three sixty-fours, and one fifty gun ship and several frigates. The cruise took eighty-five days. Lord Howe received word just in time to move his ships from the Delaware River where they would have been bottled up if the French had taken even an average amount of time in passage. Lord Howe’s squadron escaped but the twenty-eight gun Mermaid was trapped. The British sailed to New York where Howe anchored his small squadron just inside Sandy Hook. The French fleet arrived on July 11th, and everyone expected a great battle. However, the depth of water over the bar at the entrance of the channel was only twenty-three feet. The majority of the French ships required twenty-five feet. On the twenty-second of July a spring tide raised the water over the bar to thirty feet. Howe ordered his squadron to prepare for immediate battle; however to everyone’s surprise the French sailed away. Had the French succeeded in crossing the bar and a broadside to broadside battle taken place there would have been little doubt as to the outcome.

  Having been in the United States Navy, I spent a lot of time in the Tidewater/Norfolk area. Because of that I wanted to include some of the area’s history in this book. The comments about the dockyard are basically out of the history books.

  The Rathskeller was a bar I visited when I was a young enlisted man. The bar was just as I described it in the book, only the location was different.

  The burning of Norfolk was much as I describe. On January 1, 1776, by order of John Murray, also known as the Earl of Dunmore, British ships in Norfolk Harbour began shelling the town with heated shot and hollow shells containing live coals. The shelling began at 4 a.m. Landing parties helped the fire along. The town’s Tory (Loyalist) population fled but the Whig (Patriot) forces worked to drive off the British. However, they did nothing to put out the fires. In fact, the Whigs set more fires to prevent British use of the town. Damage to the town by the Whigs exceeded that done by the British, destroying 863 buildings. The British bombardment destroyed only 19 properties.

  With my background in medicine I felt it only natural to include a couple of medical emergencies. Abdominal problems during that era were usually a kiss of death. Bart survived his appendicitis due to luck and a skilled surgeon. The use of alcohol or any other antiseptic was uncommon. In fact, some took their blood stained aprons and hands as a status symbol. It wasn’t until Louis Pasteur’s germ theory in 1865 that hand washing and disinfectants were routinely brought into use.

  The use of hemp to help sedate Bart for his operation was mostly of my own making. The smoking of opium was used to induce a deep drug induced sleep but it was rare to find this type of opium readily available in the colonies during this period of time. Laudanum or opium and saffron were available as an oral or liquid medication. However, it was thought to cause nausea and would not have been used in a large enough dose to operate on the abdomen. Hemp was a large cash crop during the eighteenth century and George Washington felt his hemp was superior to tobacco. Ben Franklin started the very first hemp paper mill. Prior to that it was used to make ropes and lines for ships.

  The Declaration of Independence was drafted on hemp paper and Betsy Ross sewed the first American flag out of hemp. Therefore, I felt hemp, which was a common plant, could be a probable alternative to opium.

  Typhus, also known as gaol fever or ship’s fever, was a devastating disease. Articles can be found where a large portion of a ship’s company would be made up of prisoners from some gaol. On more than one occasion the disease was carried aboard a ship by louse infected felons. The entire ship’s crew was soon infected and many died.

  The yellow admiral was a post captain who had usually outlived his usefulness. However, since the rank of rear admiral was based on seniority alone, upward mobility was almost non-existent. To get around this captains were promoted to rear admiral one day and retired the next. This allowed deserving captains the ability to be promoted. However, this practice didn’t take place until after the Napoleonic War, many years after I promoted Buck. Hey, it’s fiction. The fact remains that a lot of Royal Navy officers retired rather than fight their American cousins. Because of this some were promoted far quicker than they would have been otherwise.

  Alarac Bond mentioned the yards being set “akimbo” in one of his books. Another term, the one I chose was cockbill. When a ship’s captain died the yard were set “akimbo” or “cockbill” when the ship returned to port. It was a sign of mourning the loss of the captain. It was Alarac Bond and Jim Nelson’s insight that was the stimulus for my poem “Final Victory.”

  Age of Sail Glossary

  aft: toward the stern (rear) of the ship.

  ahead: in a forward direction.

  aloft: above the deck of the ship.

  barque (bark): a three-masted vessel with the foremast and mainmast square-rigged and the mizzenmast fore-and-aft rigged.

  belay: to make a rope fast to a belaying pin, cleat, or other such device. Also used as a general command to stop or cancel, e.g., “Belay that last order!”

  belaying pin: a wooden pin, later made of metal, generally about twenty inches in length to which lines were made fast, or “belayed.” They were arranged in pin rails along the inside of the bulwark and in fife rails around the masts.

  binnacle: a large wooden box, just forward of the helm, housing the compass, half-hour glass for timing the watches, and candles to light the compass at night.

  boatswain’s chair: a wooden seat with a rope sling attached. Used for hoisting men aloft or over the side for work.

  bosun: also boatswain, a crew member responsible for keeping the hull, rigging and sails in repair.

  bow chaser: a cannon situated near the bow to fire as directly forward as possible.

  bower anchor: the name of the two largest anchors carried at the bow of the ship. The best-bower to starboard and the small-bower to larboard.

  bowsprit: a large piece of timber which stands out from the bow of a ship.

  breeching: rope used to secure a cannon to the side of a ship and prevent it from recoiling too far.

  brig: a two masted vessel, square rigged on both masts.

  bulwarks: the sides of a ship above the upper deck.

  bumboat: privately owned boat used to carry out to anchored vessels vegetables, liquor, and other items for sale.

  burgoo: mixture of coarse oatmeal and water, porridge.

  cable: (a) a thick rope, (b) a measure of distance-1/10th of a sea mile, 100 fathoms (200yards approximately).

  canister: musket ball size iron shot encased in a cylindrical metal cast. When fired from a cannon, the case breaks apart releasing the enclosed shot. (not unlike firing buckshot from a shotgun shell.)

  Cat-O’-Nine Tails: a whip made from knotted ropes, used to punish crewmen. What was meant by being “flogged.”

  chase: a ship being pursued.

  coxswain: (cox’n) The person in charge of the captain’s personal boat.

  cutter: a sailboat with one mast and a mainsail and two headsails.

  dogwatch: the watches from four to six, and from six to eight, in the evening.

  fathom: unit of measurement equal to six feet.

  fife rail: the uppermost railing around the quarterdeck and poop.

  flotsam: Debris floating on the water surface.

  forecastle: pronounced fo’c’sle. The forward part of the upper deck, forward of the foremast, in some vessels raised above the upper deck. Also, the space enclosed by this deck.

  founder: used to describe a ship that is having difficulty remaining afloat.

  frigate: a fast three masted fully rigged ship carrying anywhere from twenty to forty-eight guns.

  full and by: a nautical
term meaning proceed under full sail.

  furl: to lower a sail.

  futtock shrouds: short, heavy pieces of standing rigging connected on one end to the topmast shrouds at the outer edge of the top and on the other to the lower shrouds, designed to bear the pressure on the topmast shrouds. Often used by sailors to go aloft.

  gaff: a spar or pole extending diagonally upward from the after side of a mast and supporting a fore-and-aft sail.

  galley: the kitchen area of a ship.

  gig: a light clinker-built ship’s boat adapted for rowing or sailing and usually used for the captain.

  glass: shipboard name for either the barometer, a sand-glass used for measuring time or a telescope.

  grapeshot: a cluster of round, iron shot, generally nine in all, and wrapped in canvas. Upon firing the grapeshot would spread out for a shotgun effect. Used against men and light hulls.

  grating: hatch cover composed of perpendicular, interlocking wood pieces, much like a heavy wood screen. It allowed light and air below while still providing cover for the hatch. Gratings were covered with tarpaulins in rough or wet weather.

  grog: British naval seaman received a portion of liquor every day. In 1740, Admiral Edward Vernon ordered the rum to be diluted with water. Vernon’s nickname was Old Grogram, and the beverage was given the name “grog” in their disdain for Vernon.

  gunwale: pronounced gun-el. The upper edge of a ship’s side.

  halyard: a line used to hoist a sail or spar. The tightness of the halyard can affect sail shape.

  handsomely: slowly, gradually.

  hard tack: ship’s biscuit.

  haul: pulling on a line.