Chapter XVI
Giles came on deck only when the forenoon watch was well advanced. He had a splitting headache that pounded on the left side of his temple like a loose shutter in a gale. He had an overwhelming desire for water and strong coffee but not for food. Mr. Correll had the watch and greeted him cheerfully and, in Giles’s opinion, too loudly.
“Surely you have not been on deck all this time, Mr. Correll?” The lieutenant had been on watch when they had gone over to the flagship and was still on deck when they returned.
“No sir. I had the midshipmen stand the harbor watches. This is my regular watch today.”
“Very good. Carry on.” Giles turned away and thought that he might just have a few more hours sleep before becoming active. That vodka was potent stuff! Unfortunately, there was to be no rest for him that day.
Sir Walcott appeared on deck as Giles turned to go below. The baronet had not attended the Admiral’s dinner and so was no worse for wear than he was every morning, though this was unusually early for him to come on deck.
“Captain Giles, why are we still at anchor? I must get to St. Petersburg.”
“Sir Walcott, as I explained to you yesterday, we have to arrange permission to go further up the Neva to St. Petersburg. Yesterday Admiral Stroganoff sent a message about our arrival to the Admiralty in St. Petersburg, and he will let us know when we may proceed.”
“What can be taking them so long? I must not delay.”
“I see a boat leaving the flagship now, Sir Walcott. If I am not mistaken, that is Lieutenant Pirov in the sternsheets.”
It was indeed Lieutenant Pirov in the boat. With him was a tall, rotund civilian who had a rather jolly countenance framed by mutton chop whiskers. Lieutenant Pirov deferred to him in aiding the distinguished person to leave the boat first. As the new visitor appeared at the entry port, Giles had to step forward in order to prevent Sir Walcott jostling him aside in order to be first to greet the new arrival.
“George Malthampton, Captain. I am the British Ambassador to the Tsar’s court. Welcome to St. Petersburg.”
Giles was amused that the Ambassador had not named his title in introducing himself. He would do the same. “Richard Giles, captain of this frigate, my Lord,” he responded. “And this is Sir Walcott Lainey.”
“Ah, yes, the special envoy. Welcome, Sir Walcott. I hope you enjoy your time in St. Petersburg. You are welcome to stay with me while you are here. I have quite a spacious residence.”
“I hope that the accommodations will be adequate,” Sir Walcott replied. “I am tired of being cramped in this ship. I must get on with my mission as soon as possible. I trust that you have arranged a meeting with the Tsar at the earliest possible moment.”
“That is not the protocol, Sir Walcott. You will have to meet with Count Oblensky, the principal minister of the Tsar first. Then you may have an audience with the Tsar. The Count will present you and I will accompany you.”
Turning back to Giles, he continued without waiting for Sir Walcott to respond, “Captain Giles, the Russian Admiralty sends their greetings. They request that you bring your frigate up to St. Petersburg to moor near the dockyard and the Admiralty. They believe that it would be a greater honor to ask for your ship to go to the capital rather than for you to leave it here, in Kronstadt, and proceed to the capital by smaller boat.”
“Lieutenant Pirov, we have to proceed to St. Petersburg. Can you get us a pilot?” Giles asked.
“I can serve, sir. I am fully familiar with the hazards on the route, having guided ships up to the capital several times. Admiral Stroganoff anticipated your need for a pilot.”
“Mr. Hendricks, prepare to get underway. Mr. Brooks we are to go to the dockyard in St. Petersburg. Lieutenant Pirov will act as pilot."
The first lieutenant started to bellow orders that had crew members scurrying in various directions, seeming like ants whose nest had been kicked. The top men started up the shrouds, the line handlers spread out across the deck to ready the myriad of sheets, braces and halyards that would be involved. The ship’s boys, now about to act as nippers attaching the anchor cable to lines coming from the capstan lined up to take their turns, while some crew members put in place the capstan bars against which they would push to raise the anchor. Soon the clank of the capstan could be heard.
Giles felt the familiar anxiety tighten his chest that always occurred when he had to maneuver around a fleet. No doubt every eye in the anchored warships would be looking at Glaucus, including the Admiral’s own ones and those of all the captains he had dined with. So many things could go wrong when getting underway – not serious errors, but failures of seamanship that would invite pity from the watchers who had themselves had the same worries in getting under way, but who would not resist teasing any poor captain suffering a mishap when next they met. In a sense, the pride of the Royal Navy was at hazard.
The wind was from the west, strong enough to counteract the current so that Glaucus was pointing in the wrong direction. Soon the call came that the cable was up and down. It was quickly followed by the news that the anchor was aweigh. Even as the anchor was being raised and secured, Glaucus started to go astern until the rudder bit. The main topsails were released from their yards and the frigate turned her bow away from the wind. Now a different string of orders was issued so that the jibs and the driver were raised and all the square sails unfurled, the yards braced around and all sails sheeted home. Glaucus gathered way on a larboard reach crossing the stern of the flagship where Giles saw that both Admiral Stroganoff and his flag captain were watching. She then turned down wind and Giles ordered the royals to be set. He knew that it was foolhardy to set all his sails while still in the anchorage, but he couldn’t resist the show of bravado to demonstrate how a proper navy could handle its ships.
The wind was light and the sky was clear so that the sun danced over the wavelets ahead as if they were sailing into a magic river whose surface was dotted with countless precious gems. Lieutenant Pirov called attention to passing sights. The most remarkable one was a huge palace in the baroque style built on an elevated site on the southern shore. It had a broad avenue leading down to the water. Lieutenant Pirov named the palace ‘The Peterhof’. It was a summer residence of the Tsar, which Peter the Great had built to rival the greatest palaces of Europe. Turning his telescope on the site, Giles was struck by the giant staircases descending from the palace, which had fountains between its two branches. When he asked the Russian lieutenant about them, he was told about the myriad of ponds and fountains that were a major feature of the grounds of the palace, only a fraction of which could be seen from the ship. He added that one had to be careful in the grounds since there were trick fountains that could soak an unsuspecting viewer by coming on when he stepped on a particular stone. Apparently, the great tsar had liked practical jokes at the expense of his attendants. Giles determined that he must see this wonder while he was in St. Petersburg. He also wondered if it was possible to add fountains to the improvements he was undertaking at Dipton. He would have to discuss it with Daphne when he returned home.
As they sailed towards the city, Giles saw several rather large houses on the southern shore. Lieutenant Pirov said that they were dachas, which he explained were country homes where many of the wealthy and aristocratic families of St. Petersburg spent much of their summers. They could be reached by water in the summer and by sled during the winter.
As Glaucus glided eastward, it became evident that the way ahead seemed to be blocked by land. Consulting the chart, Giles realized that this was an island, and it soon became evident that they were also approaching the city. Lieutenant Pirov indicated that they should take the south channel where they would find the Imperial Dockyard and the Admiralty. They would moor in front of them where there was a quay.
As his ship moved towards the quay, Giles took a moment to look around. The island seemed to be joined to the mainland by a pontoon bridge beyond which the river broadened out into an extensiv
e basin. On the north shore, Giles could see a large fortress that would command and protect the Dockyard and Admiralty and effectively guard the end of the passage up which they were sailing. Rather strangely, there seemed to be a large church of a rather exotic nature in the middle of the fortress. The waterfront on the south side was lined with baroque palaces in attractive pastel-colored stucco trimmed in glistening white. It was quite unlike any city Giles had ever seen.
Glaucus slid smoothly into her berth, deft sail-handling resulting in her losing all way just when they came to the correct spot, so that her mooring lines could be handled with a minimum of effort. Giles took a moment to praise his officers and crew for a fine demonstration of seamanship from the start to finish of their short journey. Then he had to greet several officials who came on board the vessel. Lord Malthampton made the introductions. They seemed mainly to be there to establish links with Sir Walcott who positively glowed at the attention. As they conversed loudly in French, Lord Malthampton drifted over to stand close to Giles.
“After we have left,” the Ambassador began, “Lieutenant Pirov will suggest that you take a walk to see some of the city. Please go with him. Somewhere along the way, when he is sure you are not under surveillance, he will slip you into the Admiralty to meet with Count Smirnov, the naval minister. I am sorry about this subterfuge, but St. Petersburg is crawling with people who would love to tell Bonaparte or the Prussians all about your doings, and it would be best if as little was known about your real mission as possible.”
“Aye, aye, my Lord.”
“Oh, these are not orders, just suggestions to help you have a successful visit to St. Petersburg. There will be a reception at my house, which is also the British Embassy, this evening. Bring your officers and your midshipmen. Warn them about how strong vodka is.”
“Very good, my Lord.”
Further conversation was made impossible by Sir Walcott bellowing, “Captain Giles. I will be departing for the Embassy now. I shall require all my belongings to be removed from the hold and sent to the Embassy immediately. And I shall require my servants who have been helping you as sailors.”
“I am afraid that the last part will be quite impossible, Sir Walcott. They volunteered to serve in His Majesty’s Navy and they cannot be released. You were warned what would happen if you tried to be attended by more than two people.”
“That is absurd. I cannot possibly do with only two servants. It was bad enough that you deprived me of their service on board, but it would be intolerable here in the Capital. Absolutely impossible! I demand that you release them immediately.”
“I am afraid that I cannot.”
“I must insist that they be released immediately. Otherwise, the Prince of Wales will hear about it, I can assure you, and the consequences for you will be dire.”
“What an obnoxious fool,” Lord Malthampton murmured. “I suppose you have had to put up with this all the way here.” The Ambassador had clearly taken a strong dislike to Sir Walcott on their short voyage from Kronstadt.
“Sir Walcott,” Lord Malthampton continued in a louder voice, “I should advise you not to threaten a captain on his own quarterdeck. He would have every right to throw you in irons. Now come along, I should be getting back to the Embassy. Captain Giles, thank you for the cruise. I will arrange for boats to take Sir Walcott’s luggage to the Embassy. I look forward to seeing you again this evening. I hope that in the interim you will be able to find time to see some of the city. It is quite amazing.”
As all the other visitors were leaving, with Sir Walcott jostling with Lord Malthampton about who would lead the way, Lieutenant Pirov approached Giles, “Captain,” he said in a loud voice, “I understand that you would like to see something of St Petersburg. I can offer myself as a guide.”
“I would indeed enjoy seeing this remarkable city. Thank you Mr. Pirov.”
“Then may I suggest that you wear a less ornate uniform. We don’t want to call attention to ourselves.”
Giles went below to put on civilian clothes. The suggestion seemed eminently reasonable to him. Naval officers in England usually did not wear their uniforms when ashore and not on immediate ship’s business. While doing so, he asked Carstairs, who was assisting him, about Sir Walcott’s former servants.
“How are they fitting in, Carstairs.”
“Remarkably well, for the most part, sir. You know that many of the crew, indeed almost all of them, despise molly boys, though quite a few will bugger a shipmate or allow themselves to be buggered in the right circumstances. Most of Sir Walcott’s men fit in quite well, since they don’t act like bum-boys all the time. Indeed, they claim that they only served Sir Walcott because the pay and the food was good and they were not averse to some back-door play. Generally, they prefer women to men, but there is no return to that. Some of the lads still find Sir Walcott’s entourage distasteful, but the new men are trying to pull their weight and so fit in pretty well. The worst of the catamites are those that Sir Walcott retained as servants on board, but one of the others, who claims he did not get buggered by Sir Walcott, a man called Hawkins, is a different kettle of fish. He is a bully and has already been dealt with a couple of times for trying to force himself on others.”
“Do I need to take notice of his actions?”
“I don’t think so. The crew are onto him and will continue to make it clear that he will pay for forcing his attentions on anyone or bullying them.”
“Very good, Carstairs. Now I must go with Lieutenant Pirov.”
The two officers set off along the quay going to the east and soon came to a junction of roads including the one leading immediately to the pontoon bridge. The major street leading inland was called Nevsky Prospect, and Pirov turned into it. Giles was struck by how wide the street was. It made Piccadilly in London look like a narrow lane. He was also surprised by the number of canals that intersected the street and, looking along the waterways, how few other bridges there seemed to be and how many boats were plying the waters.
“Most of the traffic in St. Petersburg is on the canals, boats in summer, sleighs in winter. The canals all freeze solid in the winter and provide good roads,” explained Lieutenant Pirov. Giles wondered what happened in the fall and spring when the ice was too thin to take a sleigh, but the waterways were not yet navigable by boats. Lieutenant Pirov’s explanation did not clear up his puzzlement.
Before going very far along the broad street, they came to a huge shopping emporium that was crowded with people examining a complete range of goods. Lieutenant Pirov named it ‘Gostiny Dvor’, or so Giles thought, though he had trouble with the accent as the Lieutenant reverted to what struck Giles as a very thick Russian-type pronunciation when he gave place names.
Lieutenant Pirov insisted on wandering through the emporium, stopping frequently to examine various items on display. Suddenly he took Giles’s arm and drew him behind one small stall and out through a narrow exit into some sort of lane that was not connected to the main street. They went a short distance along the passageway with the Lieutenant looking back frequently.
“Ah good, we are not being followed,” he said.
“Followed?”
“Yes, Captain Giles. St Petersburg is a hotbed of spying and the arrival of a special envoy on a British frigate will certainly have caught the attention of the French spies and their helpers and probably the Austrian and Prussian ones as well. Even the Turks will wonder why you are here. It is very easy to lose someone in Gostiny Dvor without the watchers being sure that shaking them off was our intention. Now we can go about the real business of our little stroll.”
Lieutenant Pirov guided Giles to a landing stage on a nearby canal, where they boarded a boat. “We are going to the Admiralty. The Minister of the Navy wishes to see you, and does not want others to know of your meeting.”
The boat wound through several canals before stopping at another landing stage, closer to the heart of the city.
“We are actually very close to
the Admiralty here,” Giles’s guide stated. Lieutenant Pirov led them to a nearby entrance to a garden, and ducked into it. A few steps took them to a modest door, possibly a servants’ entrance, into a large building. Inside, they found themselves in an office building rather than a private residence. The office that Lieutenant Pirov sought was almost immediately at hand and he showed Giles inside without their being seen by anyone else.
A short, slim, older man rose to greet them. He was fashionably dressed in an elaborately embroidered coat, cut away to reveal britches in a matching fabric, while silk stockings and shoes with two-inch heels sporting bejeweled buckles adorned his feet. He was displaying his own hair tied back in a queue, which was a light gray color without the aid of powder.
“Count Smirnov, let me introduce Captain Giles of His Britannic Majesty’s Navy. Count Smirnov is our Minister of the Navy,” Lieutenant Pirov said in English.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. You may leave us now. I’ll call you when we are done,” was the Count’s reply. When the lieutenant had complied, the Count turned to Giles and said, in impeccable English, “I apologize for the clandestine nature of this meeting, Sir Richard. Rumors about a secret treaty with your country have been circulating. Sir Walcott is here to quash them, though I hope he doesn’t realize it, so we don’t want it known that you and I are meeting privately.”
“I understand, my lord.”
“Did you bring any documents with you?”
“Only this, which I was told to present to you.”
Giles handed over the sealed letter that Sir David McDougall had given him. The Count broke the seal and looked at the letter. He laughed. “I see that your people are adept at discouraging spies or others into whose hands secret messages might fall.”
“Sir?”
“See for yourself.”
The Count handed over the letter. All it said was, “He speaks for me”, followed by the Prime Minister’s signature.
“Would you like a glass of wine, Captain? I find that it eases conversation at this hour.”
A War by Diplomacy_At Home and At Sea, 1804 Page 18