Quarterdeck

by David O'Neil

  Alouette showed her concern at the obvious discomfort of her young friend and accompanied her, insisting on being told the cause of her discomfort, suspecting and dreading the recurrence of her illness. When she discovered the cause of the problem, she laughed out loud, to the astonishment of the trio of ladies who entered the room during the interlude.

  Eventually after composing themselves once more, they returned to their concerned escorts to find they had now been joined by Lieutenant Harmon with Maria Diaz, aglow with the excitement of her first grown-up soiree with her own chosen escort.

  As Martin looked around at the party, he had a moment of déjà-vu. A moment of recall to that first encounter with the family of which he was now a part. His eyes fell on Jennifer, the wife he could not have anticipated. He thought of the way she had looked at him in her direct manner, when she told him that she would marry him one day. He smiled and realised that they were all looking at him.

  Jennifer said, “Ah, you’ve come back to us You seemed lost there for a few moments.”

  “I was remembering it has been 18 years to the day, since I joined the family.”

  Jennifer took his hand. “Oh, Martin. I did not think.”

  He put his finger to her lips. “Hush, my darling. I was grateful for the encounter that led to our meeting, and you may be assured that I always will be. I suppose seeing us all here like this, I miss Jane and the Admiral.”

  “I really think they would have been rather uncomfortable. The company here is not the sort they would normally mix with. In truth, nor is it the sort we would normally mix with.” Jennifer smiled and tapped her nose with her fan.

  At this point the Honourable Dominic arrived and introduced himself. “Judging by your attire I presume that you must be the people accompanying me to the Americas.” This was said with an air of lordly condescension.

  Martin looked at the man curiously. Slender, willowy almost, he had a pale face and was dressed in expensive clothing, but he looked very tired, almost ill in Martin’s opinion. “I am expecting a passenger on my next voyage. Would you be the Honourable Dominic Gordon?”

  “Just so.” The man answered. “At your service.” He made a bow and turned to Jennifer, lifting her hand to his lips he muttered quietly, “and especially at yours, Madam.”

  “My husband mentioned you. sir. Are you aware of your departure date yet?”

  The man stood up surprised. “Why no, madam. I have not yet been informed?”

  She turned to Martin. “I am surprised, with such a short time remaining to your departure, I would have expected the entire expedition to be informed by now.”

  “I confess I would have presumed so.” He turned to the uncomfortable man and said, “It will probably be because there will be last minute instructions to be passed on.”

  The diplomat drew himself up to his full height, “When are we talking about?”

  Jennifer said, “I believe it to be next week-end, four days hence.”

  The face of the young man was a picture, “I have not… I cannot…. There is no time to do anything in just a few days. Excuse me.” He dashed off in a hurry.

  Antonio, having been engaged in conversation with Maria and her partner, looked at Martin eyebrow raised?

  Martin shrugged. “I think he has the impression that we will actually leave at the weeks’ end.”

  Antonio said, “Aren’t we?”

  Martin grinned, “We sail from London then but we do not leave Portsmouth until the end of the month. Three weeks hence.”

  Antonio thought for a moment. The smile spread over his face. “I think I might enjoy this evening after all.”

  Alouette arrived back from a private conversation with Sir Anthony Watts, also a guest at the ball and her former mentor. “What is so amusing? Have I missed something?”

  Both men laughed and Antonio told her about Dominic. She joined them laughing, then took Antonio off to dance, leaving Martin and Jennifer to themselves for the moment.

  The party lasted into the night in a fairly orderly manner. After midnight an element of wildness began to appear so Martin, Antonio and Lieutenant Harmon left with their partners, having done their duty on this occasion, merely by being there.

  ***

  In the aftermath of the evening event there followed a formal visit by Dominic Gordon, who managed to appear at the Admiralty during the afternoon of the following day. He looked pale and wan and was considerably put out by the failure of the naval men to explain fully the difference between sailing from Dartford for Portsmouth, and sailing from Portsmouth to the Americas.

  Admiral Bowers was not sympathetic. His opinion of the Honourable Dominic was that his presence for the task in hand was inspired by his father Sir Ranalph Gordon, MP, who was embarrassed by his presence in London. The embarrassment was the result of the public antics of the company he kept, rather than his personal participation in them. The concern was for his son’s well-being.

  As the group seated themselves for the briefing and discussion, Martin took pity on the young man and made an effort to accommodate his inexperience where it was evident. The result was a comparatively smooth transition to the point where Dominic, despite his diplomatic status, was informed that the Commodore would be the final arbiter of any agreements reached.

  For the first time since he had taken his place at the meeting Dominic spoke up. “Surely, gentlemen, in my position as special envoy, my decisions must be deciding in all matters of negotiation with the American authorities?”

  Admiral Bowers nodded to Sir Anthony Watts who was seated at the table but had taken no part in the discussion so far.

  Clearing his throat, Sir Anthony spoke. “Mr. Gordon, you are a member of the Diplomatic service. You therefore appear on the Diplomatic list. You have no experience of actual diplomatic negotiation whatsoever, nor have you shown any inclination to actually justify your position in the Foreign Office. He looked the man in the eye and added, “Do I have that right? Have I misread your career up to date?”

  Dominic Gordon met Sir Anthony’s gaze for a few moments then dropped his eyes, a flush spreading across his cheeks, as he reluctantly nodded his head.

  Sir Anthony continued, “Because Commodore Forest-Bowers has, over the past years, gained considerable experience in diplomatic negotiation, he will be in charge, and you will act upon his instruction. Is that quite clear to everyone here?” His gaze moved around the group, all of whom nodded in agreement to the instruction.

  Sir Anthony rose to his feet. “I am leaving this meeting now as my successor is better qualified to explain fully the background to this mission. I suggest you all take heed of the instructions you are given. In these circumstances, your survival can depend on understanding what your task really is.” He looked around the group. “Gentlemen, good luck!”

  The door of the room closed behind him only to be opened almost immediately to admit Alouette.

  Chapter seventeen

  A Capital affair

  Antonio looked at Martin as they travelled to Dartford to join their ships. “I cannot forget the look on Gordon’s face after ‘plain Mr. Smith’ dressed him down.” Sir Anthony Watts had always been referred to as ‘plain Mr. Smith’ during his tenure as spymaster for the British Government.

  Martin smiled, “That was nothing to the look on his face when Alouette walked through the door and briefed the meeting.” Both men laughed aloud at the memory. Dominic Gordon had questioned her presence immediately.

  Alouette had proceeded calmly to point out that her presence at the meeting was secret on pain of imprisonment, she should at all times be referred to as ‘plain Mr. Jones’, and under no circumstances was any reference to be made to her gender outside the room.

  Her briefing had been specific. The American government was preparing for war. That was evident from reports from loyal Americans and her own spies. The purpose of the voyage was to re-assure British interests in Canada and the Caribbean and give warning to the Americans that th
e British still controlled the seas.

  “I am aware of the increasing threat posed by the frigates currently building on the east coast. I am also aware that they are not yet ready. Diplomacy rather than open warfare is the intention. I leave you with this thought.” She impaled Gordon with her stare. “You can come out of this excursion with either a career ahead of you, or your future behind you.” She lifted her head and smiled at the group. “Good luck, gentlemen. I look forward to your successful return.” She had swept out of the room leaving a memory of her perfume and the impact of her words.”

  Martin thought about Alouette’s words as HMS Vixen made her way down the Thames. The brief was vague enough but at least the actual orders had been dictated by the Admiralty. Though there was plenty of room for things to go wrong, there was also some acceptance of the fact that the project was official. Too often in the past ships had been sent on missions which were so obscure that blind luck, had on occasion, been the only way that they could be carried out with any degree of success.

  His thoughts turned to Dominic Gordon, His first impression had been that the man was a complete waster. But after the briefing by Alouette he was beginning to think there was more to the man than he had, in the first place, guessed.

  The voyage round to Portsmouth was uneventful, and it was with some relief that Martin looked forward to a period, however short, at the house in Eastney.

  Jane met him at the quay accompanied by Maria Diaz. She was staying with Jane until the squadron sailed. Her excuse was that her guardian, Antonio Ramos, who was sailing with Martin, would be here. The fact that Neil Harmon was a member of Martin’s crew had apparently also been at least a contributory reason for her Hampshire visit.

  The preparations for the voyage were completed except for the details of personal farewells. For Martin’s ship, HMS Vixen, with a crew that, by now, were almost exclusively volunteers, the farewells were signalled by the size of the crowd on the quay to wave them farewell. Despite the distance from the quay to the anchored ship, as she weighed anchor, the faint sound from the shore carried on the wind to remind the departing crew, that they would not be forgotten.

  ***

  Bishop’s Rock was clear astern as Martin came on deck, he was greeted by the Master, Jared Watson. “The last we’ll see of Britain for a while.” Watson commented.

  Martin nodded his head. “There are a few miles to travel before we see land again.”

  “We are taking the direct route to Halifax, Nova Scotia. Our ships are sound enough, and providing the weather is not too unkind we should manage the voyage fairly quickly.”

  He nodded at the other ships of the squadron, its numbers swollen by the addition of two schooners and a packet ship. The schooners, Marianne and Driffield, both former blockade runners. Apart from carrying a sensible quantity of cargo both had a turn of speed and could out-sail the other ships in the flotilla, with two exceptions. The mail packet, Jenna, built for her normal task, carrying mails, and HMS Hera. Jenna accommodated the Honourable Dominic Gordon. The two schooners’ carried trade goods in their holds. HMS Hera, Lively, and Spartan, were scattered to north, south and directly ahead. Sao Paulo was sailing abreast of Vixen to leeward.

  Martin paced the quarter-deck deep in thought. The sojourn at Eastney had been a happy time though far too short for its naval participants and their ladies. It appeared the relationship between Maria Diaz, Antonio Ramos’s ward, and young Harmon was continuing. Martin decided that in view of the time they had spent in each other’s company, despite the absences that duty entailed, there was a fair chance that the relationship would survive. He smiled, wondering if Maria realised what it meant to be married to a serving officer in the Royal Navy. Shrugging mentally, he returned to his memory of the run-up to the departure of his command. Alouette had joined the party at Eastney for a final briefing on the task at hand and had remained until Antonio set sail with the squadron.

  HMS Vixen had been alongside for most of the period, the carronades mounted aft were replaced by new 24 pound models with improved aiming and swivel arrangements. It did mean that the crew were able to be given time ashore prior to the voyage.

  Martin’s attention was diverted by the call from the masthead. “Hera is signalling, sir!” Lieutenant Cameron, who had the watch, sent up the duty Middy, Percy Gibbs. He sprang to the shrouds and started to climb rapidly, telescope strapped over his shoulder. From the foretop he was able to make out the signal flying from Hera’s halyard.

  He called down to Cameron, “Enemy in sight,’ sir!” He called. He slid down to the deck and went to the flag locker, where he extracted the single acknowledgement flag. He ran that up the halyard, the junior middy took the telescope and climbed the mast. From the foretop he called down, “New signal! Single ship, two decks.”

  “Acknowledge!” Martin ordered. “Mr. Watson, let us increase sail and we will alter northward. Mr. Cameron have Gibbs signal to all ships to alter course and close on Vixen, steer west-north-west. We will try and avoid contact. We have our task to perform, and I would rather we were not delayed by an engagement at this time.”

  After a moment’s reflection, Martin turned to Cameron. “What news of the intrepid Miss Warren?”

  Cameron blushed. “We agreed to wait until the end of this voyage. We will discuss our future at that time.”

  The sky was darkening. Stars were beginning to show up here and there against the heavens’

  As night fell there was no sign of the ship seen by Hera, so Martin resumed their mean course for Halifax under cruising conditions.

  ***

  The Squadron encountered four merchantmen sailing from Canada in convoy, and Spartan encountered an American merchant ship being attacked by pirates. By the time HMS Lively joined her, both pirate cutters were reduced to kindling.

  The grateful American passed over a barrel of rum in thanks, and proceeded on her way, apparently to Bristol.

  Then three nights of stormy weather scattered the ships causing a delay they did not anticipate, a delay that allowed them to elude an ambush set for them 50 miles off the coast of Newfoundland.

  Hera found scattered debris and survivors clinging to the rigging of the foremast of their wrecked ship. The captain had survived but was delirious. A young boy and two men, ordinary seamen, who survived, were looked after and treated for exposure. The captain was obviously dying.

  He was transferred to Vixen to be attended by Doctor Mills. His ramblings in delirium made it quite clear that the word of their passage and their purpose had been sent ahead of them. An unofficial ambush had been put together with the temporary assistance of two of the completed American, ‘big’ frigates. They had been waiting for over a week until well past the expected time of arrival, when the storm hit. The other ships returned to port leaving the Betty, the wrecked ship, as lookout. It had been a rogue wave. It pooped the schooner and the captain, who was beside the wheel at the time, had been thrown against the fife rail round the mainmast. It had in the words of the doctor, scrambled his insides.

  Before he died the plan had been more or less explained except for the source of the information. The doctor would allow no pressure to be put on the dying man.

  It was the boy who inadvertently gave the clue. He described a posh fellow who had appeared in Baltimore from a French ship. After meeting with the American Captain of the frigate in the harbour, he moved into the hotel. The Middy, Athol Gibbs chatted with him and discovered that the posh fellow was registered as Sir Bertrand MacIlroy, Bart.

  The ships arrived at Halifax and Martin made contact with the authorities. His other contact, arranged through Alouette, was Logan Stuart. He was a business man with interests both sides of the border. His erect figure reflected his former occupation, of soldier in the years prior to becoming a businessman. It was only when he stepped forward that Martin realised that Stuart’s right leg ended in a stump. Upon being informed about the abortive ambush, he shrugged, his comment was succinct. “We have so-call
ed patriots here, who are as radical as the people who persuade British Naval Captains to harass American shipping.” He then went on to other matters. He was particularly interested in Sir Bertrand who, up to now, was unknown to him. He suggested that Martin keep in touch as long as possible. Whatever he found would be passed to Alouette. He was also able to give Martin contact names in several of the ports down the coastline between Halifax and the Florida Keys. All were, he assured Martin, in regular touch through coastal traders. They parted with the promise of further investigation into the presence and activities of Sir Bertrand MacIlroy, with the network keeping as close an eye on his activities in the America’s as they could.

  The party was received by the Governor with the ceremony expected for a diplomatic mission. Dominic Gordon, having been presented, watched proceedings with interest. For Martin, the change he observed in Dominic was re-assuring. The pale, willowy young man was now tanned by the weather, and his body was filling out. His sober dress was in keeping with his diplomatic status. The tousled blond hair was retained sensibly in keeping with his dress and demeanour.

  In conversation with the captain of the packet which had carried Dominic, Martin discovered that the young man had accepted a challenge from the captain, to tail onto the ropes when they were changing sails. It seemed that from that time Dominic had divided his time between reading, and his self-imposed deck duties. The captain had been impressed and had paid up the wager, a case of wine, with good heart.

  The discussion with the agent in Halifax, had been revealing to Martin, It was made quite clear that the activities of the renegade, Newton, was having an adverse effect on diplomatic relations. His depredations on American ships were all carried out under British colours; on others, American. This confused matters, especially since the number of incidents between Royal Naval ships, and American, was increasing. Pressure from sources in England was continuing, from people determined to return the Americans to their former status as a colony. The stubborn maintenance of the belief, that it will only require such harassment to tip the scales for a return to the Empire, appeared to be held by a group of people, who had no understanding of the personalities involved.