“Thank you, sir. I had wondered, I will admit, what might come of today.”
“We have lost Duff, and he could have replaced you very well. Akers is too inexperienced, however. What would you suggest?”
“Akers to Speedy, sir and Mr McPherson to become premier. I suspect either Wallsend or Arnheim will be able to nominate a master’s mate or senior midshipman to become Second and Rogers will make a very able Third or Fourth. Do not, I would suggest, sir, make Rogers until after you have appointed your new man, from Wallsend most likely, so that there can be no question of seniority - Rogers must not become Second. For your Fourth, sir, at the moment I am at a loss. We may have to beg assistance in Antigua, which would bring the problem that the new man might well be Second Lieutenant by date of commission. Better if at all possible to find another man in the squadron.”
“Mr Rogers! Captains Jackman and Smith to Trident.”
Jackman could provide no candidates for early promotion but Smith said he had two who were well deserving of a cocked hat; he would send them across at earliest.
Mr Wallace and Mr Denton appeared within the hour, lugging their sea chests and looking expectant – Captain Smith, correctly, had not told them they were to be promoted, but there would be little reason to their transfer otherwise.
Wallace was the older and was a master’s mate who had actually passed for lieutenant in the previous year; he was the obvious senior. Denton had a little more than five years served as a midshipman, could legitimately be made as well.
Frederick called Rogers to the cabin.
“I expect Mr Vereker to leave the ship in Antigua, Mr Rogers. There will then be a vacancy for Fourth Lieutenant which I shall offer to you, unless the admiral of the Antigua Squadron most strongly overrules me.”
Rogers, downcast at not being given his chance, became much happier; he had feared that Frederick did not think him capable.
The sun was setting before Speedy and Nimble came in sight and signalled a successful conclusion to their chase. They headreached on the squadron overnight and came alongside in the first hour after dawn.
Frederick looked up from the report brought to him by Corsham and Doctor Morris jointly, glad to take his eyes from the figures. He addressed Vereker, stood at their side, appalled at the price of their success.
“What have you done for burials, sir?”
“There were Catholic priests aboard, sir, and we gave them a free hand to arrange matters at first light. They held one of their Masses, which are unlawful maybe, sir, but I granted permission in the circumstances, believing you would approve. Three hundred and eighty-two, sir! And we shall lose another dozen a day for the next week, I doubt not. There was a huge crew and the grapeshot mowed them down like wheat before the scythe, sir.”
“Had her captain behaved more sensibly she could have manoeuvred and avoided being crossed five separate times.”
“The captain and the true sea-officers, what we would call the master and his like, were all killed in the first exchange, sir. The chasers fired over, you will remember, sir, and struck on her poop deck, two thirty-twos, sir, and a great cloud of splinters. After that it was lieutenants giving contradictory orders and none to carry them out. She did not strike her colours for lack of the men to order it. As well, her most senior lieutenant remaining took to the small boat that fled, perhaps ordered to do so – they are unclear on that, sir.”
“If he was most senior then how could he be ordered?”
McPherson from Speedy had the answer; he produced a bedraggled group of prisoners, their finery drooping after half a day in a small boat and a night in captivity.
“Five army officers, sir, and one naval. Four crewmen besides. You will note the names, sir!”
A Brigadier-General; four colonels and a lowly naval lieutenant who protested that he had not run in action, he had been ordered, far outranked by the aristocracy of the army.
The general was a duke, a Bourbon by name, and claiming a town that Frederick had never heard of, Segovia or some such. Two of the colonels possessed titles as well, Conde of this and that; the other pair were O’Donnell and MacLenahan – definitely not Spanish names.
“Renegade Irish, Mr McPherson?”
“They say they are fifth generation Spanish, sir, three times great grandfathers fled after the Battle of the Boyne, sir. Their families soldiers ever since.”
It sounded fair; he would ask Murray for a definitive opinion.
“Have they given their parole, Mr McPherson?”
“All five, sir, and the lieutenant.”
“Take the lieutenant across to Santiago, if you would be so good, sir, then talk with Mr Vereker and he will explain what is to happen and you may work out when the changes are to be made.”
Frederick called Vereker to him, pointed out that the five Spanish army officers had given their parole and asked whether he, as President of the Wardroom, wished to invite them to share his company. He might, during idle conversation, discover whether they were to have formed more than a single brigade with the numbers of troops they expected to discover in The Havana.
Vereker thought that to be exceedingly dishonourable; he would pass on any information they let slip but he certainly would not seek to entrap them into speech.
Dunnett appeared with a mass of documents and forms to be filled in.
“Gunner’s report, sir, on the expenditure of powder, ball and grape; and his indents for serge to cut for cartridges, and powder to fill them, and for thirty-two and twenty-four pound ball and grape, sir. Carpenter’s report, sir, on the shot hole in the deck and splinter damage and his expenditure of stores including the use of spikes, nails, powder paint, timbers, varnish, turpentine and knotting, sir. Indents to replenish all. Boatswain’s stores, sir, and sailmaker’s – expenditure and indents. Purser’s report on his losses, and the Master records six ankers of rum destroyed by Spanish fire.”
“Oh, the wicked prevaricator! The spirits store is the length of the deck distant from that single shothole!”
“Splinters, sir, he claims.”
Frederick noticed a faint tinge of rum on Dunnett’s breath, knew he would have no assistance there.
“Give me the docket, Mr Dunnett. I shall sign it at risk to my immortal soul! What of the doctor? Has he lost no stores?”
“None, sir – no fire penetrated the holds.”
“How unlucky for him!”
Dunnett shook his head, in sympathy, no doubt.
“Now, Mr Dunnett, my report on the action. You have your log for the day, sir?”
“With assistance and advice, sir, I have presumed to prepare an initial draft of proceedings.”
Dunnett handed over eight closely written sheets which Frederick quickly read.
“Very good, sir! The hand of a master!”
“Thank you, sir. Mr Bosomtwi told me just how my predecessor would have gone about the matter and Mr Nias taught me much of your style.”
“Bosomtwi?”
“Well, yes, sir. A knowledgeable man, more than once he has sat with me in his spare hours, discussing whichever book of yours that he is reading the while.”
“He is, of course, wholly at liberty to make use of all of my books,” said Frederick, previously unaware that Bosomtwi had learned to read in English. “Now, then, the report lacks my comments on Captain Jackman’s actions in Arnheim. You have recorded that he crossed the bows once and the stern twice, at remarkably close range. Let me see now, ‘the surrender of Santiago was greatly advanced by Arnheim crossing her three times at pistol shot, Captain Jackman pressing to the closest possible range’, and almost at the end, here now, ‘Captain Jackman boarded at the head of his men and personally cut down the Spanish flag’. As well, ‘Captain Smith of Wallsend bomb led his party across the waist while Trident and Arnheim boarded at the stern’. Finally, ‘I must commend the actions of Lieutenant Quinlan, Royal Marines, during the boarding and its aftermath while the officers and crew of Trident and all othe
r vessels under my command distinguished themselves by their steadfast devotion to their duty’.”
“Very good, sir. I should add the figures for dead and wounded for all ships at the end, I presume.”
“You should; also brief details of Santiago, number of guns and crew and passengers.”
Reports dealt with and the squadron hove-to for the night's dead to be committed to the deep, they made sail for Antigua with their new member extravagantly decorated, Union Flag over Spanish at all three mastheads. It was perhaps slightly vulgar to make such a display, but they were rather proud of themselves.
“This is not the first time you have brought a line-of-battle ship into English Harbour, Sir Frederick!”
“No, sir, but this time I have brought back almost all of my own people, sir.”
“Is she much cut about in the hull, Sir Frederick?”
“Hardly at all, sir – nothing underwater. The action was primarily one of chasers and carronades, sir – Captain Jackman crossed her three times, sir, so close as almost to entangle her rigging!”
“A name to remember, it would seem!”
“He is a very fine officer, sir – one for whom I have the greatest regard.”
“He has been a follower of yours, I presume?”
“He has, sir, but he is under Vice-Admiral Sir Iain Farquhar’s eye as well. He apparently knows his family.”
“Very good. The young man will do well for himself, I do not doubt. There is still prize money to be won by dashing frigate captains.”
“One trusts so, sir.”
They discussed promotions at some length, Admiral Makin revealing that he was under some pressure from the First Lord to look after Captain Smith of Wallsend.
“He cannot take Santiago, surely, sir – from bomb to second rate is too great a step.”
“He could have Arnheim, perhaps?”
“Giving Mr Jackman Santiago? He could do it, certainly, but I would rather keep him in his frigate – there is a strong possibility that he will wed my wife’s sister, sir, and a few more guineas will do him good with her father, Lord Partington.”
The mention of a lord had its desired effect.
“Then Smith must take my Phoebe, and her owner may have Santiago – though God alone knows how I will crew her! I shall be forced to send her back to Pompey, I think, so as to change her guns for English. She will be snapped up by another admiral seeking a flagship, but with luck I shall get a seventy-four in exchange. Your man Vereker may have one of my sloops and I shall put a lieutenant of mine into Wallsend. I know of Vereker, of the family at least, and a pedestrian bomb ketch will not do for them! I have an elderly master and commander aboard Raven sloop who has taken the intermittent fever and wishes to invalid out of the command and return to England while still he may; Vereker can take her. Can you make a lieutenant, Sir Frederick?”
“I have a mid who is ready, sir.”
“Excellent. All is settled, except that I have a topman from Phoebe, a bright young man who ran away as a boy – some problem at home, the details of which I do not know. He has the beginnings of an education and a damned good head on him and he could do well on a quarterdeck. He can hand, reef and steer, of course, needs but to get his navigation and he can be made. His papers would show four years’ service on my staff – that can be arranged.”
Frederick was less than enthused by the prospect – among other things, the gentleman would have no allowance, no means of paying his way in his mess.
“His father is a cousin of mine, by the way, of the same name as me.”
“In that case, sir, send him aboard!”
“He will have his chest and uniforms and a few guineas besides.”
“Mess fees will be dealt with, sir. I have a second vacancy if there is a body available.”
“I will ask about, Sir Frederick. There may be a merchant who wants a younger son to become a gentleman.”
“I have two of that sort aboard already, sir, one of them, Mr Kelly, showing some degree of promise. The other, Bayliss by name, rather dull – I suspect he will do no good in the counting house so Papa had tried the maritime existence as a second-best.”
“One never knows, Sir Frederick, he may improve as he ages – like wine, perhaps.”
“I suspect we are talking of an already ancient vintage here, sir. He will have his chances.”
“What next, Sir Frederick?”
“Ideally, sir, pay tickets for the hands, if that is possible. I would like to give shore leave, more than one day for each watch, but not one of them has a penny-piece in his pocket.”
The squadron contained nearly eight hundred men; he was asking a lot of the admiral’s funds. The expenditure would eventually be made good by the Admiralty, but pay was very slow in crossing the Atlantic.
“They deserve it, Sir Frederick. Your people to produce the tickets and I will send a Paymaster aboard tomorrow, after noon.”
The masters and pursers and all of their mates of the whole squadron would have no sleep that night. The masters must decide exactly how many days each man had served since last being paid, and at what rating, while the pursers must present a statement of deductions for each man - slops from the chest and tobacco taken on credit, mostly.
“Pass the word, Mr Cheek, that a Paymaster is expected tomorrow and that starboards will be given shore leave for the rest of the day until noon. Larboard watch to follow. Waisters when the larbowlines return. If we are to be here for another three days then we shall repeat the procedure. Inform Sergeant Benson and he will make the arrangements for the Marines and inform Mr Quinlan.”
“Aye aye, sir. The men will appreciate a run ashore, sir.”
“They have earned it, and more.”
The first cases of typhoid came to the sickbay six days later; by that time every man in the squadron had had two days shore leave and quarantine was impossible.
“Spotted fever, sir, in its vigorous form. Sometimes it comes as a general scarlet rash across the abdomen, and is much less taxing in that emanation. But here we have the true gaol fever, sir, with separate, distinct spots. I have given them bark in the hope of breaking their fevers, and Doctor James’ Powder, which may often be efficacious. Other than that, a pint of blood each, to lower their systems; washing of the abdomen in cool water; and the lowest of diets, though most cannot eat in any case. Four or five days, sir, for the fever to run its course and we shall see how many will survive the remaining two weeks of illness; most of those who die go to a griping of the gut in the third week. They will be much weakened for some months thereafter, sir, and will not wish to go to sea.”
Frederick reported to the admiral that the fever had made it impossible for him to sail.
“It is sweeping through the whole port, Sir Frederick. We must wait and hope. The army reports its barracks to be full of the sick and dying. They may lose as many as one half of their men – we have a battalion three months out of England and with no resistance at all. Have you had the fever, Sir Frederick?”
“As a boy, sir, when the whole of the South of England succumbed over the space of a summer. Healthy and well-fed as I was I survived easily – no more than another childhood ailment. Many of the cottagers lost some, even all, of their families.”
“Then you are highly unlikely to suffer a second attack, Sir Frederick – once seems to give you a protection against further onslaught.”
Much heartened by this information, Frederick returned to Trident where he walked the extended sick-berth with Doctor Morris, speaking with those of the sufferers who were not delirious, trying to offer comfort and support. The smell in the low, enclosed space of the mess deck was appalling.
“Would they do better ashore, Doctor Morris?”
“Not crammed into a damp and dark barracks, no, sir.”
“Is there a hospital?”
“Very small, sir.”
The admiral said that there was accommodation of sorts for convalescent patients up on the ridge beh
ind the harbour, open to the sea breezes. Frederick toiled up the hill to inspect it, discovered open-sided huts sufficient to swing a couple of hundred hammocks. He sent Doctor Morris to inspect the location and organised a party to sweep out and tidy up before bringing the men up in donkey carts, two by two.
“There is a useful flat space a little downhill, sir, will serve as a graveyard.”
“Thank you, Mr McPherson, that is a very practical thought. Discover if you can whether it is possible to hire on some local ladies to assist with the nursing of the men. They can bring water to them at least, and scrub and boil their bedding.”
“Cost, sir?”
“Will be met, Mr McPherson.”
There were places for sufferers from Arnheim and Wallsend.
“Wardroom and gunroom have been hit, sir. Mr Denton, the new Third is ill indeed, sir. Of the gunroom, Mr Kelly and Mr Bayliss seem unlikely to survive, isn’t it.”
“Bloody Sugar Islands! What of you, Bosomtwi? Are you well?”
“Been a slave, sir – you lives through the barracoon at the harbour in Africa and ain’t nothing goin’ to kill you, isn’t it! Marc and Jean, they well, and Ablett, he done had the fevers before, sir. We ain’t goin’ to be sailing before the hurricane season, sir, and maybe not for three or four months, sir. Maybe we takes a house ashore, sir?”
Shore living would be more comfortable and the Admiral could give him a dispensation to leave his cabin. It might be healthier as well.
“You are fortunate that the fever did not strike after you had sailed, Sir Frederick. Assuming no emergency, such as the projected invasion of Port Royal, then your vessels will serve in harbour defence until the hurricane season has passed. What are your first figures?”
“Nearly one half of the men have succumbed, sir, and of those a few less than one in three are said to be mortally ill or to have died already. At this rate, between forty and fifty Tridents will die. My doctor – who is a very good sort of a man – tells me that many of the survivors will not be fit for sea-duty for many months, possibly for the whole of their existence. I am tempted to suggest that Wallsend might be laid up in ordinary and her crew dispersed through the squadron. I am not convinced that she has any great value to me, sir, for I have no immediate plans to invade any part of the Spanish or French possessions and no expectation of a shore bombardment.”
Sugar and Spice (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 6) Page 9