“I must send the men to Long Common, my love – they will wish to join their families!”
“Let Ablett and Marc and Jean travel tomorrow, my love. We can follow with Bosomtwi in a few days. What of Sid? I have missed his cooking!”
“He is with us and I am inclined to leave him ashore during this posting – he will have little enough to do on a ship that rarely sails for two days together.”
If he could spare him, she would be very glad of his services, having grown used to eating for pleasure.
“Is the young Fox with you, Frederick?”
“Still aboard Trident, my dear. I could not bring him away with me, and he is doing well there. Captain Jackman will look after him. Lieutenant Davidson remains in commission aboard Arnheim and is in a position to be promoted early because he will be pushed up the ladder very rapidly. Any lieutenants coming to join her will be new-made and thus junior to him; she is not a ship to attract the ambitious and most lieutenants will do their possible to avoid serving in her. Arnheim is off to the East Indies and will be there for some years, as goes without saying; a little of luck and a few actions against pirates, which is almost a certainty, and Mr Davidson will be given a sloop of his own. After that, his future is in his own hands – for a small ship out hunting pirates on the China station there is prize money to be made, with a little of dash and boldness.”
“But he may take any of the many illnesses, may he not?”
“He may, probably will. Provided he survives he will prosper, I think. As it is, he will have been able to send two or three hundred pounds back to his father and sisters – perhaps as much as three or four year’s income to a curate, much to their pleasure.”
Elizabeth was glad to hear such good news of young Mr Davidson, but was distressed to hear of the straits of his family. She could not be persuaded that the Church was right to permit such poverty to its ministers.
“Tribulation is good for the soul, my dear. The curates of the Church of England must therefore be an especially holy group, as a whole!”
She shook her head and suggested it was time to change for dinner, bringing the conversation to an end.
“What of the Land, my dear? Have conditions changed while I have been away?”
“A slightly better harvest this year, over the country as a whole, but not sufficient to drive the price of wheat down. There is still some unrest locally, in Dorset that is, due to the progress of enclosures. Luckily, the army and navy are insatiable in their demands for men and there is a place for all of those pushed off their land.”
“That is good, as long as one is not one of the unfortunate who have been displaced. The country is in ferment still, it seems. What of the Sea Fencibles? Are they still busy?”
“Very, sir. Too much so, it would seem. Smuggling has shown a great increase on our shores since they took responsibility for it suppression; there was a need to release the dragoons to duty along the Kentish coast where invasion was feared.”
Frederick laughed and shook his head.
“’Set a thief to catch a thief’? That has always seemed a very dubious concept, you know. It seems to me that all that will happen is to get two thieves active where there was one. The Sea Fencibles were to comprise the most active and vigorous of our people along the coast – and that surely must include the whole of the smuggling population!”
She could not approve – the Law was, when all was said and done, the Law!
“I am sure you are right, ma’am.”
Frederick rose late the following morning and lazily made his way down to Kent’s farmhouse.
“Have you word of your boy, Kent?”
“A letter only last week, sir. Captain Backham insists that the youngsters sit down to write every month, Sir Frederick.”
“A good policy, Kent, one that must be welcome to you.”
“It is, sir, while the boy has so much that is good to tell me. Despite his short time in the service he says he is doing well, mentioned in his captain’s report of an action again. Boat work, Sir Frederick, cutting out a merchantman that had been taken by the Moors and was held in one of their small harbours.”
“Dangerous work, in the extreme. The Moors are unpleasant characters at hand to hand.”
“So I recall, sir.”
That was a lapse into carelessness on Kent’s part, Frederick thought. Never before had he let slip anything of his past.
“He has had a first pay out of prize money, Sir Frederick, has sent eighty pounds to me, ‘for his brothers and sisters and mother and father’, he said.”
“He is a good-hearted lad, Kent.”
“So he is, sir, and that’s for sure. I took them all into Poole just two weeks past, to spend in the dress shops and tailoring places; told them it was their brother putting fancy clothes on their backs for love of them.”
“Well done, sir!”
Frederick had been afraid that he would have put the money into a bank account to earn interest for the family.
“And your other son, Kent?”
“Obadiah is at sea on his privateer, Sir Frederick. I have heard nothing of him – but they do not generally spend their time close to Post Offices, sir!”
“Neither they do! The farm is doing well, I should imagine?”
No farmer would admit to prosperity, but things could have been worse, it seemed.
As was obligatory, Frederick made morning calls on his neighbours and then on his wife’s parents.
In each he had to explain exactly how it came about that he had taken a Spaniard in time of peace. Sir Geoffrey Taylor was unabashed in his congratulations and recommendations that he should repeat the process, frequently, though his wife showed a little more thoughtful, hoping that war might yet be avoided. Mr Robinson could not wholly approve of spending good money on making war yet was sure that if they had to fight then they must win.
Quite naturally, Elizabeth accompanied Frederick on the visit to her parents, nervously because she could not imagine that her peace-loving father would approve of the battle. Her brother George was in residence, having taken a wing of the house, was present with his wife, Augusta, who was not showing pregnant yet, to Elizabeth’s disapproval; an heir was necessary to the family. They seemed happy together, however, forever brushing against each other, quietly touching as if in reassurance that the other was still there.
“Welcome home, Sir Frederick! Have we a war with Spain yet, or is it still delayed?”
“The word is that the Spanish are putting a squadron together, sir, to fetch back the proceeds of their gold mining and pearl fishing, and to add some of the proceeds from the emeralds up in the mountains. When the bullion reaches their shores, then they will declare actual war. The meanwhile they merely offer hostility where they think they can be unobserved.”
“Dishonest, and surprisingly dishonourable, Frederick!”
George was open in his surprise – the Spanish made much of the concept of honour.
“According to the advice I have been given, George, they are returning to the most obscure forms of their religion, going back to the Dark Ages, in fact. I am told that the faithful owe no duty to the heretic – and that includes honesty. To stab a heretic in the back is merely to rid the world of one who should not be polluting its air by breathing. The Inquisition has returned!”
“Primitive, Frederick! And intolerable in this modern age.”
“Again, George, I am told that the Age has left the Spanish behind. They have no manufacturies and the steam engine is unknown to them. They cannot profit from modernity, and therefore are reverting to mysticism!”
Lord Partington was uncomfortable with the conversation; he was convinced that the world would be a better place for a greater degree of religious observance and the younger men seemed to be implying that faith was the enemy of progress and prosperity.
“What is to be done about the Spanish duplicity, Sir Frederick?”
“I do not know, my lord, and I suspect that the
very fact of my ignorance implies a secret plan of some nature. The subject was simply not discussed. Was there no plan in the minds of government, then the whole issue would be much talked about. Needless to say, I did not ask the First Lord what was in his mind – he is not a gentleman one would attempt to interrogate!”
“Are we simply to drift into war, do you think?”
“Prime Minister Addington was too much the weakling and the new administration has yet to find its feet. I much suspect that we will see a new First Lord within days, and then a change of policy – but it will take some months to work its way through.”
“The word I have is that Dundas, Lord Melville, is to become First Lord, may already have done so, Sir Frederick.”
Lord Partington explained that he had received a letter only that morning from an acquaintance in London.
George agreed with his father – he had heard from a friend of his University days who was now acting as secretary to an uncle who was a public man and who said that the word was all of the impending fall of Jervis.
“A pity in some ways, my lord. Lord St Vincent is a harsh man, and inclined to regard Whiggishness as next to Godliness, but he has an absolute code of honour. He will do what is right, even if his definitions of rightness are not necessarily mine. He could have ruined me on two separate occasions, the excuse could easily have been offered, but chose to support me instead because it was ‘right’ to do so. Political expediency demanded my head, but he would not act dishonestly. Dundas, Lord Melville, on the other hand, is a good Tory, and an even better friend to Mr Pitt, but he does not even understand the concept of ‘honour’; he would stab any back if it gained him the least advantage for the shortest amount of time. He may be on my side of the political divide, but I would not trust him an inch, my lord!”
“Will he change your orders, Sir Frederick?”
“Possibly, my lord – but probably not. I am insufficiently important to be brought to his immediate attention, I think. As well, he will wish to make a show of taking action in the Channel, and I see no alternative to a policy of raids and noise and, hopefully, prisoners being paraded through the ports, all to the delight of the newssheets.”
“Our local Fencibles are being increasingly active, I am told, Frederick. Think you that I should join their ranks?” George sounded more than a little dubious as he asked the question.
“Oh, undoubtedly so, George! You must! The Land force, most definitely, you will not wish to sail in the small craft – and they will not want you to observe their activities, from all I hear. You must put on the uniform of a private soldier and shoulder a musket and stand very visibly in the ranks of a Sunday afternoon. Should there actually be an invasion then you will wish to have a musket in the house, but that is a very unlikely event. The probability is that you will be called upon to act as escort to prisoners or to garrison a battery as protection to the gunners, but even that very rarely. The main function is to be seen, to be known to have stood shoulder to shoulder with the brave defenders of English soil – it will do no end of good in future years!”
Augusta raised her voice – actually she spoke in little more than a murmur, but that she said anything at all was a rarity.
“Should he not be an officer, Sir Frederick?”
“No, ma’am, not at all a good thing. There will be all sorts of upstarts strutting in front of the ranks – the sons of the lesser members of the County and their like, probably the offspring of the better-off attorneys and apothecaries! They will be shouting and trying to show importance while my lord’s heir will simply be there, carrying his firelock and ready to do what he can. The local people will be watching, and they will not forget that while bumptious brats yelled and postured, he actually did something.”
She was intelligent, instantly saw Frederick’s words to be wise.
“If it is no more than a show, Sir Frederick, then it is a sensible thing to do. But what if worst comes to worst?”
“Then make your way to Liverpool, ma’am, and take ship for the States. You will not wish to remain in the hands of the French.”
They set out for Long Common two days later, the household in three post-chaises and a wagon dragging along behind containing half of the pantries – sides of beef and flitches of bacon well wrapped and sat next to cheeses and a mound of preserves and pickles. Food was still short in England and it was well to make certain of the family’s supplies.
Long Common was unchanged, which was no great surprise; there was no reason why it should not be. The manor at Boorley Green was a very different place.
Three months without a master had had an effect – minor repairs had not been attempted; routine matters such as weeding the stones in the yard had been ignored; the hedges had not been clipped. That changed within a short time – Frederick was no agriculturalist, but he had been a first lieutenant, knew how to keep a ship in perfect order and could adapt those skills to a working yard and barns and house.
Squire Paget paid him a visit within the first week, told him he should employ an agent – he would cost two hundred a year and probably save him four.
“How do I quickly lay hands on such a one, sir? I have an agent at Abbey, but he took some weeks in the finding and I may be at sea very soon.”
“Your man Stainer can advertise and discover a skilled man for you. Alternatively, I can offer you the son of my bailiff, available now. He has been at school in Fareham – at my expense, I would add – has done well in the classroom but has shown himself unable to put up with the bully-ragging boys who sneered at his background. He is seventeen years of age, and a big lad, and he finally caught one of them on his own last week and pounded him into the ground; the fellow was brave enough in a gang, but wept bitterly when alone, it seemed. His father has money and a name over in Sussex where he owns land. Young Silas was expelled from the school; fortunately the headmaster sent a letter to me first and I was able to bring him away before he ran off to sea or into the Army in shame. The headmaster was not pleased with himself, but said he could not afford to offend Mr Warner – he would lose all of his pupils from Sussex perhaps, Warner being a vindictive sort.”
“He knows the work well enough, I presume, sir?”
“Brought up to the Land, Frederick, and with a full set of intellects about him. He can do the job.”
“Will he live here?”
“Better he should – an agent should always be visible.”
“Send him across, sir. He can take the rooms above the stables here. What of this fellow Warner? Can we do anything for him?”
“I have that little matter in hand, Frederick. He is involved in a pair of canals to connect across to the River Mole and thence to the Thames. Small enough, but I am sure I can whisper in the right ears to have a loan or two called in so that he has to dig deep in his own pockets to finance the completion of the work. While he is stretched financially I can spread the word on the Exchange that he is in trouble and that will lead the vultures to examine all of his speculations. I do not know what he is into, but there will be those who do and will see the chance to do him in the eye. I doubt he will be bankrupted, but he will probably find himself a few thousands worse off and with his reputation hurt. Then the word can spread in Sussex that his son was in unsavoury business at school and was well-beaten for his pains; he will put two and two together and know why he has an enemy. He may give his son the kicking he deserves, but will probably merely seek vengeance and I will deal with that when the problem arises. There are advantages to being a Member for the County!”
“Good, suggest that he sends the boy to sea – I will find him a berth, and will soon beat the bullying out of him. Seventeen is old to go to sea, but not too much so, sir.”
Paget shook his head – said the boy was the heir, he could never leave home.
“A pity.”
Silas Bates arrived next day, showed a quite surprising resemblance to Squire Paget, which perhaps explained why he had paid for the boy’s educatio
n, but was none of Frederick’s business. He took over the books, showing a very alert understanding, and proceeded to make himself master of the Home Farm in quick order.
“Keep your ears open, Mr Bates, for any pieces of land marching with us and coming onto the market. A visit to Mr Stainer at Waltham will serve to put a purchase in hand.”
A Marine messenger came to Long Common at the end of the second week in residence, delivered the familiar sealed package.
“A summons to the Port-Admiral in Portsmouth, my dear. I must attend him in his office in the morning. I wonder why?”
A half-crown in the Marine’s hand and he rode back to Portsmouth with Frederick’s acknowledgement of the order, having confirmed that Vice-Admiral Girton still had the command.
"Your squadron, Sir Frederick, is in the making but is much delayed by the changes at the Admiralty. I am about to disperse the three sloops which had been brought together for the purpose and send them on other immediately necessary business rather than leave them idle in Portsmouth for another month or two. Acheron frigate will benefit from an extra stay in the dockyard and I shall be able to present you with your command some five weeks from now when two of the Baltic convoys are in and their escorts are to be put to other uses. I have pencilled in, as it were, and making no guarantees, a cutter and four gunbrigs and a pair of sloops; there is a possibility of an armed schooner as well. I can probably find a pair of condemned smugglers as fireships; small vessels even for that trade and damaged in the taking, but able to cross the Channel once more. Officers will be a problem, the ships being small and the commissions probably of short duration, but there are a number of unemployed gentlemen to be found in the Portsmouth boarding-houses, eking out an existence on half-pay; many of them are the wrecks of our profession but others are unfortunates. With your agreement, Sir Frederick, I shall winnow out a dozen or so of the beached and offer them a second chance; some of them will reward us with the finest of hard work, I doubt not."
The Odd-Job Man (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 7) Page 2