Far Foreign (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 9)

by Andrew Wareham

  “It will be better than the catch-phrase of Charybdis frigate, sir. The cry of ‘the bishop’ was heard every hour, or so it seemed. On a more serious note, sir, you say that Brigadier Morton has not succumbed to his wound?”

  “A matter of hours, Sir Frederick. The surgeons say that he should have died already; he is in coma and will never rouse again.”

  Frederick nodded; a belly wound was invariably fatal, and excruciatingly painful. He was distressed to have occasioned it, having intended to strike the chest. He commented that it was an unfortunate circumstance.

  “The gentleman insisted on offering intolerable provocation, Sir Frederick. I suspect that he may have wished to bring his existence to an end; he was not well-suited to the strain that he was enduring. I think he would have been ordinarily brave in battle, but he could not tolerate the waiting for unknown terrors to become real. Command of the forces in Montevideo has fallen to me, as senior officer present; the army are under the orders of a major, who in fact will be free to go his own way. He has already released the officers who were under arrest and cancelled their courts-martial and has passed the word that all pending floggings are to be reconsidered. There is a general feeling of relief, but it would still be desirable for you to play least in sight.”

  “We are watering and butchering and taking aboard the beef on the hoof that you so kindly made available, sir. The squadron may sail with the tide in the forenoon tomorrow; I would prefer not to navigate unknown inshore waters in the dark of the evening. I have small liking for this wind, however, sir.”

  “The faintest of zephyrs, but offshore, Sir Frederick. A weatherly ship will make a good four knots, I believe.”

  Frederick laughed and shook his head.

  “Neither Endymion nor Winchester may be referred to as such, sir. Two knots, if we are lucky and the premier and master are on good form. We shall sail on the top of the tide and use the ebb to take us out of shoal waters. Neither two-decker is fit for more than to be a receiving-ship. They should not be at sea in their present state. I have not shipped the royal masts since sailing from Portsmouth and have not attempted studding sails either, but there is no choice, the ship must sail. The shortage of timber from the English forests is such that it is impossible to build anything greater than a frigate; the lack of gold in the Exchequer means that very little can be purchased overseas. Five years from now and, judging by the present state of our ships, it will be impossible to maintain the blockade.”

  Admiral Stirling thought they might be able to last no more than three years, because of the difficulties in manning the fleet.

  “Many of our ships are crewed more by foreigners than by Englishmen, I am told, and too many of them landsmen.”

  “Perhaps a quarter of my jacks have no home in Britain, sir. I recruited from the prisoners at Portchester before sailing; I believe the poor souls understood we were commissioning for the Mediterranean and suspect that many may have hoped for the opportunity to desert onto friendly shores. A number of the rest are Americans, or would be by choice; some others have been persuaded to leave their foreign merchantmen when they were prized. Some few are poor emigres, their names changed so as no longer to be French, and there are fled slaves as well, mostly out of the Sugar Islands.”

  “We must man our ships, Sir Frederick. We may not like the expedients we are forced to, but there is no choice in the matter.”

  “We shall soon be pressing women into the service, sir, for lack of men left behind in Britain.”

  “God spare us from that measure, Sir Frederick! Though, of course, there are always said to be a few of females in men’s dress on the lower-deck – how true a rumour that may be, I have not the least idea.”

  “Lob-lollies, for example, have a degree of separation from the others of the crew that would make it possible for them to disguise their nature, sir. Officers’ servants might well be female – they again are to a great extent independent bodies. Many of the idlers – coopers’ mates, sailmaker’s party, carpenters’ mates, even the purser’s hands – are also able to preserve their privacy in a way that the bulk of watch-keeping people could not. It is always possible, sir, though I am inclined to doubt that it is commonplace – but, I really do not know, and much prefer not to discover if I can avoid the fuss and bother that would ensue.”

  “Agreed, Sir Frederick! What do you plan in the immediate future?”

  Admiral Stirling could not give Frederick a direct order, but he had the right to know what was happening in his waters.

  “Cruise south as far as I dare, sir. I have no great faith in the appearance of this flotilla out of the Great South Sea, but it is not wholly impossible; the information comes from a most trustworthy source and was certainly true when it was sent, but it is nearly a year old now and circumstances may have changed. But we must accept that the passage from west to east is easier than the reverse, and I have read that in the months of the southern summer the seas of Cape Horn may not be overwhelming. The three powerful vessels are said to be accompanied by smaller – though what is not specified – and they might be able to force their way through at this time of year. So there might yet be a relief force due to arrive at the Rio de la Plata and I must position myself appropriately for what, another five or six weeks, sir?”

  “Two months at very most, Sir Frederick, or so the despatches from London assure me. Almost as wearying as blockade, I fear, your voyage will be.”

  “We shall use the time profitably, I hope, sir. A survey of the coast and the establishment of the exact position of every safe anchorage would be worthwhile. We could note as well any locations of colonies of seals and such – fresh foodstuffs are always welcome on long voyages. For the rest, the men can still benefit from more of exercises; they are competent, no more than that, at their sail-handling, and willing with the great guns, but their boat-work is not up to scratch, sir. I shall take some pains to bring them up to standard, I think. The smaller vessels, the two brigs especially, are within reason handy, but they could benefit from a touch more of smartness. I know well that small ships must be less formal in their ways – the men must be in the habit of turning their hands to any job that arises, and the officers must get their hands dirty too, showing them right from wrong; but they can take things a touch too far. ‘All mates together’ is not quite our way of doing things, sir.”

  Admiral Stirling shuddered – it was an appalling concept.

  “What do you do when you conclude that your vigil is to be fruitless, Sir Frederick?”

  “I shall return here, sir, to inform you of my conclusions. It is not impossible that orders will be sent from the Admiralty, copies with the fleet that reaches you as well as to the Cape.”

  “Have you reason to expect a change in your instructions, Sir Frederick? Were you warned of such?”

  “Should the First Lord change, sir, then all policies may be modified.”

  “Ah! Enough said, I think, Sir Frederick! Mere speculation must play no role in our professional lives! Though I will say, in confidence, that the name of Grenville is being whispered as a successor, to take office at an early date.”

  Frederick was, and looked, surprised; he tried to hide his pleasure, however. He knew that Grenville had an acquaintance with Lord Alton; he was hardly an ally, as such, but he might be much inclined to offer and accept favours of him. Grenville could well be worth a plum.

  He said nothing, for he had no knowledge of Admiral Stirling’s politics, and had no wish to discover them while they were able to work so comfortably together. Better far for both to accept that the machinations of Whitehall existed and that working sailormen must know nothing of them, in public at least.

  “Will you proceed as far as the Falkland Islands, Sir Frederick? The Spanish have withdrawn their administrator in the last few months, or so I am told. There may be a small garrison still there, but that I do not know.”

  Frederick was not certain they could safely proceed so far – the Falklands had a
name for sudden storms and leeward shores. Many a ship had foundered off the islands, and in the nature of things the bulk of them would have been more weatherly than most of Frederick’s squadron.

  “The weather, sir, will determine just how far south I shall proceed. If I do reach so far south then be sure that I shall pay the garrison a visit and give them a thumping on general principles, but all lays in the lap of the gods.”

  “The Spaniards will be most upset if you do call upon them, Sir Frederick; they might find themselves obliged to take some action, which might divert some of their strength from the Rio de la Plata itself. It would be worthwhile if you could, I would suggest, but I fully accept that you will not wish to press forward into storms in those waters.”

  Boat work commenced within the day of leaving Montevideo, much to the irritation of the crew; it was tedious labour setting boats in the water, even more so in recovering them from a moving ship. The surgeon was not best pleased by the regular appearance of crushed thumbs and broken fingers and the occasional rupture as well.

  Had the seas been calmer, they could have towed the boats behind, but the tall swells of the South Atlantic made it almost certain that they would lose them, either by towing them under or to snapped cables in the night.

  A week and Frederick decreed that they would practice no more in the open ocean; most boat work would take place on the coast, making landings or cutting-out moored vessels. There was only a limited need for the boats at sea and they could meet such demands adequately now, he said. The acceptance that they could not afford the steady drain of hurt men was a more important factor.

  “Sail drill, Mr Dalby! We really could do with more topmen – let us select a few fortunate souls from the waisters and have them taught the epitome of the seaman’s art!”

  The waisters showed less than delighted at the prospect; most of them were quite happy as they were, their feet planted firmly on the deck rather than wriggling about a hundred feet and more up in the air. Perhaps the only exceptions were the quotamen, Lee and Larkin, both of them having shown willing to learn their trade, perhaps for being unable to believe their luck after their failed desertion. The two men had been told in detail just how fortunate they were to have avoided a flogging around the fleet, of five hundred at least across their backs. Just one man on the lower-deck had taken his five hundred and survived to return to health and strength; he had shown them his back, normally kept covered because his regrown skin was easily burned by sun or wind. They had come close to vomiting at the sight of the great mass of scar tissue, and the realisation that on many, possibly most, ships that would have been them, if they had lived at all.

  The boatswain confirmed that the two were capable of becoming topmen; surprisingly, he then recommended that they should not.

  “Better, sir, that they two should be given to the Gunner, sir, now that we has one what is worthy of that title! Mr Ross, sir, could turn they two into gun-captains inside a year, and quarter-gunners in another. Three years from now, sir, and they could be made into gunner’s mates, and very useful to the ship they could be! Whereas, sir, if so be they goes up into the tops, ‘twould take the better part of five or six years before they could make master’s mate, and they would be too old to take a commission in any normal way, sir, so that’s no loss to the ship. Good Gunners ain’t two to the penny, sir, not no way, and we should be using them men so well as may be!”

  “Bring them to me. I shall speak to them, like a Dutch Uncle, or a close facsimile thereof!”

  The two were still shy of catching their captain’s eye, were nervous indeed as they knuckled their foreheads to him.

  “Larkin and Lee, I am glad to see you here today, which may be a surprise to you. You were lucky indeed while in Portsmouth, but that is past and gone, men. You are to have a chance, and a choice, which is rare indeed! The Gunner, Mr Ross, tells me has had his eye on you for being handy with the great guns. Should you wish, then you may be trained up as gun-captains, working the twenty-fours and the thirty-twos and then taking a turn on the carronades before being put to the chasers; learning the trade, in fact. By the end of this commission it is not impossible that you might have earned warrants as gunner’s-mates; then, a few years and you would become Gunners in your own right – senior and valuable men, and better paid, with a chance of finding work in a dockyard in England or even in India and settling to a life of some comfort. Should you not wish the guns, then you will be made into topmen, with the chance of becoming Captain of a Mast or even master’s mates. Which will you take?”

  Larkin, quicker to speak always, immediately asked for a gun, for having a liking for them; Lee made the same choice, probably because he always followed his close friend.

  “You are tie-mates, that I know, and so, as is our way in this ship, you will remain in the same watch. Do not get into trouble again, men, and you will enjoy a successful career aboard ship. I will not tell you that you will become rich! I will say that you will, as gunner’s-mates and then as a warranted Gunner, earn three and four times as much as a farmhand in a village in England. Take a place in a dockyard, especially at foreign, and you will more than double that again and you will have the chance to settle with a wife and family and bring up children in some comfort. The opportunity is there; it is up to you to make what you can of it.”

  They said nothing but made their acknowledgements and returned to their work.

  “Well, Mr Dalby, I do not know if they are reconciled to a life at sea or whether they will still run at the first opportunity to escape to America or England. They have their chance. I hope they will take it, because, if they do not and they are caught running, then I will see them court-martialled as malcontents and flogged without mercy! They must not throw my generosity back in my face, I believe!”

  “There is no choice, sir. To give them a chance will be seen by the rest of the men as a fine-spirited act – they made a bad start yet have been allowed to overcome it. To forgive them a second time would be weakness, and that must not be seen ever on the quarterdeck.”

  “Exactly so. A kind heart butters no puddings, or so I have been told… though not perhaps exactly in those words, now I think of it… did you ever butter a pudding, Mr Dalby? No, I thought not… perhaps I misheard.”

  The weather became no worse as they plodded south, and that was a mixed blessing, Frederick thought. Their old hulls were subjected to no particular strain and the pumps were needed for barely one hour out of the twenty-four, which was always a relief. Working the chain pumps was tedious, if not especially hard, labour, and the men were happier for having little of it. But without a wind they crawled, setting all sail that they dared and yet seeming to make no progress at all, a hundred miles being a good day, and that not in a straight line to their destination, having to tack at least once every watch. The end of the second week saw them an estimated five hundred miles south of the Rio de la Plata and with Frederick uncertain of what he should do next.

  He stood on his quarterdeck in company with Dalby and Mason, not quite conferring with them, but allowing them to comment quite freely.

  “I do not like the barometer, Mr Mason. No great swooping fall, yet an undeniable and steady drop. There is weather to our south.”

  “There is, sir, as is only to be expected in these latitudes. Westerlies, one must expect, sir, and at least giving no fear of a lee shore, but driving us far from the waters of Cape Horn.”

  “I have no wish to expose the squadron to the Roaring Forties, Mr Mason. Was we on passage to India or Botany Bay even, then it would be unavoidable; but we are not indulging ourselves so and must therefore take an alternative course. Inshore? It would be to make certain that we should not miss the Spanish, if they are in the Atlantic Ocean at all, but could be a nasty experience if the wind changed – these are not ships that will easily claw offshore in any gale. Retracing our course, through seas we have already discovered to be empty, seems singularly futile.”

  “Plurally, too, s
ir!”

  “What?”

  “Ah, a joke, sir – not just ‘singular’, sir.”

  “Oh! Very witty, Mr Mason. Don’t do it again.”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  Captains were allowed to be humourists; masters were not.

  “Inshore, Mr Mason, within easy sight of the land so that the look-outs will inspect every bay and river mouth quite thoroughly. Bearings and positions of anchorages and possible watering places to be noted. A task for the midshipmen, perhaps; good experience for them. Mr Dalby, Warsash and Growler to work the shoal waters, looking particularly for any evidence of landings in recent days.”

  “Mayberry to be look-out, I think, sir. His eye for detail could come in very handy, sir.”

  “It could indeed, but remind him that he is to sweep the whole horizon very frequently indeed. I shall be most upset if a Spanish flotilla creeps up behind us while he is analysing every inch of a coastline.”

  “Double look-outs is one answer to that, sir.”

  “It is indeed, Mr Mason, and a very wise response as well. Make it so.”

  It was a low and rather uninteresting shore, even in its summer showing inhospitable; the local people would not make an easy living of it.

  “I would not choose to emigrate here, I think, Mr Dalby.”

  “It is similar in many ways to the Baltic, sir, except less forested. There are sandy shores there which are no more than heathland, rather like these. Few people there and none of them farmers in the English sense, sir. Running cattle and sheep, often goats; vegetable gardens on the south-facing slopes – except that it would be north here, of course. Very little of grain; that they trade for. It is a place to leave, sir. The eldest sons stay, for the land will be theirs, but the younger boys there go away to the towns or to the army. It will be the same here; if there are settlers, then they will be few and their numbers hardly growing. These young men would cross the land to the mountains and find work in the mines, or so I suspect, sir.”