A Certain Threat (The Merriman Chronicles Book 1)

by Roger Burnage

  His mind was so occupied that he scarcely noticed Peters leaving the cabin and returning with his meagre breakfast. And where was Lieutenant Laing and the cutter? Without the other ship nothing could be done about sending a force up to Cumberland. Aphrodite couldn’t be in two places at once and he must stay with the Dorset.

  Merriman went on deck to find room to pace up and down and was surprised to see a few flakes of snow falling, although visibility was still good.

  “My God, it’s as cold as charity Mr. Cuthbert. Keep your eyes on the weather and move us nearer to the coast if necessary. I don’t expect the Dorset to sail until tomorrow morning but if the Viceroy is impatient it may be earlier. We musn’t miss sight of her when she comes out.”

  “Aye-aye Sir, I’m watching it. I think we’ll have more snow before the day is out. Don’t like the snow Sir, cold wet nasty stuff it is, though to be expected at the time of year I suppose.”

  With surprise Merriman realized that it was already late in December and would soon be Christmastide. For a few moments he indulged himself with memories of Christmas at home before he entered the Navy. The roaring fires and the huge feast on Christmas day when Annie would excel herself in the production of puddings and pies, preserves and confections, and the centrepiece, an enormous joint of meat or more likely several different joints. There would be a goose filled with Annie’s own recipe seasoning and heaped dishes of steaming vegetables to accompany them. Followed by jelly or syllabub or even ices if the icehouse still contained ice from the previous winter. Merriman realized his mouth was watering as he remembered the huge ale and fruit cake Annie used to bake months before Christmas to allow it time to mature. His parents always invited their friends and his father would ensure that everyone ate and drank their fill. “Nobody should leave our house hungry or thirsty,” he would say with a great roar of laughter. Even the elderly vicar, who was always invited after they had been to the morning service, succumbed to the warmth, the food and wine, and his rubicund face would smile benignly on the gathering before he fell asleep.

  Merriman did not realize that he had been standing there for several minutes with a smile on his face and came out of his thoughts to see the officers and men on the quarterdeck were all looking at him and whispering amongst themselves. “What’s this? Has nobody got work to do? I’ll soon find you some.” he said harshly.

  As soon as he spoke the hands hastily returned to the tasks they were doing and the officers looked elsewhere, all avoiding eye contact except Lieutenant Andrews who ventured to say, “You were smiling Sir, happy memories I think.”

  “Indeed, David, they were, but I -------------” He was interrupted by a hail from the foremast head, “Deck there, sail on the port bow, I think it’s the cutter Sir.”

  “Aloft with you Mr. Andrews, see what you make of her.”

  It was indeed the Pilote and as she approached Merriman ordered the Aphrodite hove to, to wait. The cutter rounded to in the lee of the warship and in moments a boat was in the water and Laing was climbing aboard the Aphrodite to make his report.

  “Now then Colin, did you manage to send the prisoners ashore?”

  “Yes Sir, all delivered to the military as ordered. The senior officer is a Colonel Sir Henry White. He had heard of the loss of the cutter and when I told him that the prisoners were to be charged with piracy and murder he was delighted to have them under lock and key. They were moved ashore during the night and he’s arranged for them to be confined in the barracks under military guard so that no word might be spread about their capture. The Colonel sends his compliments and congratulations on your success in re-capturing the revenue cutter, and he hopes he may have the pleasure of meeting you and hearing the full story.”

  “You didn’t mention the French I hope,” interrupted Merriman.

  “No Sir, but strangely enough he said that he would be very much surprised if the French weren’t involved somewhere, but I didn’t pass comment. That’s all Sir, we would have returned earlier but for the gale which prevented us from leaving Dublin Bay.”

  “Thank you Colin, well done.” Merriman went on to tell Laing what had been planned concerning the Dorset and what Grahame had learned concerning a French plot involving seizing a cargo of plumbago. “I intend to question these French prisoners to see if I can learn anything further about their plan. In the meanwhile, you return to the Pilote and stay close. Please pass the word to the First Lieutenant and Mr. St James to come to my cabin.”

  Merriman pondered on the best way to interrogate the prisoners. He had one wounded French officer, one petty officer and four seamen, all in chains. The seamen may know what the French plan was but probably spoke little English and Merriman himself had almost no French. Certainly the officer spoke some English so he had to be the one to concentrate on.

  “Ah, Gentlemen,” said Merriman as the two officers knocked and entered the cabin, “Sit down. We have to try and make one of the Frenchmen tell us their plans and I have an idea how we can do it. Do either of you speak French? No, I thought not” he said in response to their shaken heads, “We shall have to resort to trickery.”

  He went on to explain his idea to them and before he had finished they were both smiling and nodding.

  “Right Mr. St James, will you fetch the French officers here with a marine guard whilst you, Mr. Jeavons, make the necessary preparations on deck.”

  A few minutes later the marine officer knocked on the door, “Prisoners Sir, in chains as ordered.”

  The Frenchmen, handicapped by the chains and flanked by the Marine sergeant and another marine, shuffled into the cabin to see Merriman sitting at his desk with his back to the door. The senior man immediately tried to move towards him, “Monsieur Le Capitaine, I must protest Sir, I am ------,”His words were cut off by the marine sergeant who bawled in his ear, “The prisoner will not speak unless spoken to. Stand where you are.”

  Merriman ignored the man for a few moments more and then closed the book he had been pretending to study and placed it in a drawer. He then turned to the Frenchman and slowly looked him up and down before speaking in a quiet voice. “Yes Monsieur, what are you protesting about?”

  “These chains Sir, and the conditions in which I and my fellow prisoners are being kept. I am a French officer and I demand that I be shown the courtesies suitable to my rank.”

  Merriman regarded him with a baleful eye and said nothing. The Frenchman nervously licked his lips and tried again. “It is against the rules of war for an officer to be treated in this manner.”

  Merriman raised an eyebrow, “Rules of war? But we are not at war Monsieur, and you are not a prisoner of war. If you were you would be treated accordingly. You were captured in possession of a British vessel which you and your compatriots together with Irish rebels had seized, murdering the entire crew. You are nothing more than common pirates and murderers and will be treated as such. The facts are as I have stated and there can be no defence. You know that as Captain of a King’s ship I have the power to have you hanged or shot as I see fit. I have decided that your men will be shot and you will be hanged. However, I will give you the mercy of a quick death by shooting if you will tell me all you know about the plot to steal the plumbago. We know most of it anyway.”

  “That I cannot do, it would not become the honour of a Frenchman. Armand Benedict will not betray his country.”

  “You talk of honour M’sieur Benedict, a common pirate? Very well, it is all the same to me.” He looked at the other Frenchman who had been listening with horror to what had been said. “What about you M’sieur, will you tell me what I want to know?”

  “I order you to say nothing, You must not betray M’sieur Moreau. They will not kill us,” shouted Benedict to his companion who shook his head and looked at the deck.

  “Mr St James , I believe you have the four seamen up on deck, take their irons off and give them time to make their peace with God before they face your firing squad. You can put these fellows back below for
the moment.”

  “Aye-aye Sir,” said the Lieutenant, as his men pushed the shouting, protesting prisoners out of the cabin. They were dragged back to the hold, Benedict shouting all the way. “You cannot do this, we are not pirates, you are committing murder yourselves if this is done.” But the faces of the marines were set impassively and they took no notice of his cries which redoubled as he saw the four bewildered French seamen standing in front of a line of marines who were busy loading their muskets.

  As they were fastened up again, the two of them started arguing and shouting in their own language until the sound of a volley of musketry silenced them. Benedict raged uselessly at the marine guard, then realizing it was hopeless sat down next to his white faced and trembling companion

  Ten minutes later the marine Lieutenant called for them to be unshackled and brought up on deck. The first thing that they saw was a pile of four corpses covered with bloodstains, lying in the scuppers, and looking up they saw two noosed ropes hanging from the mainyard and two lines of seamen waiting to haul them aloft. The captain and his officers were lined up on the quarter-deck.

  “Mon Dieu, he meant what he said,” whispered the French officer to himself, resolving to show no fear. His companion began to scream and struggle and fell to his knees as the marines pushed them beneath the hanging ropes and adjusted the nooses round their necks.

  “Mr. St James, belay that for a moment, I’ll have a word with that snivelling wretch. Bring him to my cabin,” called Merriman from the quarter-deck.

  Merriman stared at the terrified man who had to be supported by two marines as he was in a state of collapse. “Now fellow, what is your name?”

  “Anton O’Flynn Sir.”

  “You are Irish then?”

  “Born and raised in France Sir, My grandfather left Ireland many years ago.”

  “So, you are an Irish rebel as well as a pirate and murderer, that makes three reasons to hang you.”

  “No Sir, “ said O”Flynn, tearing away from the grip of the marines and flinging himself to his knees in front of Merriman, “Have pity Sir, I’m French and I never killed anyone Sir, I’m only here because I can speak English.”

  “Well fellow, tell me about the plumbago plot and I will see to it that your life will be spared.”

  “Yes your Honour, heaven bless you Sir for the good man you are. May the saints look after---------”

  “Stop babbling man and start talking or back to the noose you go.”

  “Yes Sir, well the plan is to attack the ship taking the Viceroy and the important gentlemen with him to Ireland, keep them as prisoners and kill the crew and sink the ship to leave no witnesses. The cutter we took is --- was, to be used to help in the attack and then it was to go further north and lie offshore to wait for a fishing boat. If they received the correct signal the fishing boat was to lead the cutter into the harbour at a place called Ravenglass and alongside the jetty.”

  Having started, the man became positively garrulous as the story unfolded. The combined force of the French and Irish would then make a raid on the warehouse and take it before the surprised guards could do anything to stop them. The plumbago would be loaded aboard and the ship would sail for France stopping only off the coast of Ireland to send the Irish and their prisoners ashore.

  “The cutter would be sold and we would all share in the money Sir, I swear I didn’t know there was to be killing until the cutter was attacked and ----- “

  Merriman cut him short. “Do you know where you are to meet the fishing boat and what the signal is?”

  “Yes your Honour, one mile to sea due west of Ravenglass between nine of the clock and midnight. It was expected that the attack on the Viceroy’s ship would be before mid-day and we could be in position that same night.”

  “And the signal?” asked Merriman anxiously.

  “A blue light over a white light, flashed three times every ten minutes. The answer is a white light over a red.”

  “What about the French ship, what is she? And who is the M’sieur Moreau that your officer spoke off?

  “A corvette Sir, sixteen guns and the usual crew with more Irishmen aboard. Moreau isn’t the captain. He came to the ship with orders to the captain to place himself under Moreau’s command. I think he is some sort of secret agent Sir, I heard him say something to the captain about reporting to a person in the National Assembly in Paris.”

  Merriman leaned back in his chair with a sense of relief flooding over him. Now he had it all. It remained to protect the Dorset and fight or chase off the French ship and to intercept the raid on the warehouse at Ravenglass. But no longer was he mixed up with agents and spies, it was now a matter of straight forward naval action with which he was familiar.

  “Take him away, Mr. St James, fasten them all up again but keep this man separate from the rest.”

  Meanwhile, Benedict was still standing with the noose round his neck, close to fainting with the tension. He saw the marine Lieutenant return to the deck and call to his sergeant that all was over. He was amazed to see the four bloodstained “corpses” scramble to their feet unharmed, grinning all over their faces. He realized that they were not his own men but English seamen wearing his own men’s clothing. His face betrayed his feelings as the noose was lifted from around his neck and he realized how they had been deceived.

  “Yes, M’sieur, you have been tricked ,” said Lieutenant St James, “Your men are alive, we stained their clothing with chicken’s blood. Captain Merriman is not a man to execute prisoners out of hand however much they deserve it. No, you’ll all face trial for your crimes and I doubt if the judge will be as lenient as Captain Merriman.”

  Chapter 25: Sirene attacks the Dorset

  Merriman regarded his lieutenants carefully. Jeavons, Laing, Andrews and St James together with the Master were all eying him eagerly. “So you see Gentlemen, we now know the whole plot. We must ensure that neither the attack on the Dorset, nor the theft of the graphite can succeed. This is what I propose.”

  “Mr. Jeavons, you will take command of the cutter with sufficient men to handle her. You will take Mr Andrews with you and some of the marines under their sergeant and rendezvous with the fishing boat off Ravenglass, probably tonight or maybe tomorrow night I suspect that it will be the smack we saw leaving Parkgate yesterday with the man aboard whom we believe to be the leader of the smugglers. You know the signals, so if they reply correctly you’ll know it is the right boat. They are unlikely to suspect that anything is amiss and you should be able to close and take them by surprise. They are unlikely to fight but a sample of cannon shot over their heads and through the rigging should make them see sense. Remember, I want as many prisoners as possible.”

  “Aphrodite will stay with the Dorset. I hope to intercept the French ship and be able to bring her to action, although I have my doubts that she will fight once it is realized that we are ready for her. Do you have any questions Gentlemen?”

  “Only one Sir” said Lieutenant Jeavons, “What do you want done with the fishing boat and the prisoners when we have them?”

  “I suggest you make your way towards Dublin. Once the Frenchman has been dealt with and the Viceroy is safely delivered, Aphrodite will sail to meet you. I’ll look for you to the south of the Isle of Man”.

  An hour later Merriman stood on deck and watched the cutter sail off to the north and the Cumberland coast. It was a straightforward mission but he wondered how Jeavons would cope with it. Merriman shrugged his shoulders, it was Jeavons’ right to be given the chance and at least he had young Andrews with him.

  The day passed with no sign of the Royal Yacht. Visibility worsened and a worried Mr. Cuthbert complained to Merriman that they could be aground before seeing anything. It was not until the next morning that the weather cleared sufficiently for Aphrodite to take her position out of sight of the coast but from where they would see the Dorset emerge from the estuary. About mid morning she was seen from the masthead, flying St. George’s flag, and moving
well offshore as arranged.

  “Keep her in sight Mr. Cuthbert, but not too close. We have the weather gauge so we can run down on her very quickly if she signals”.

  However, it was not until the two ships were well past Anglesey that the lookout shouted “Deck there, signal flag down Sir and Dorset’s changing course”.

  Merriman rubbed his hands together, his plan seemed to be working. “Very well, Mr. Cuthbert, set a course to meet her and I’ll have all the sail she can carry. Mr. Laing, beat to quarters if you please.

  He stood behind the men on the big ship’s wheel, watching as the drum roll brought the men racing up on deck. To the shouted orders of the petty officers the topmen were up the ratlines like monkeys, out on the yards and loosing tops’ls and t’gallants which filled with a bang as the braces were hauled taut and the ship heeled over to the extra press of canvas and the spray came over the rail like bullets. Merriman grinned to himself; this was real sailing and no mistake. “Mr. Laing, I’ll have that last reef out of the mains’l and another pull on the lee braces if you will.”

  He caught the look of alarm on the Master’s face. “Don’t worry Mr. Cuthbert, she’ll carry it and more.” At the speed they were going it was not long before the tops’ls of the Dorset could be seen from the deck. Merriman looked round, “You, Larkin, I’m told you have the sharpest eyes aboard, aloft with you and tell me what you see.”

  Merriman waited in a fever of impatience while the man climbed to the main topmast crosstrees. “Deck there, Dorset’s bearin’ up towards us and there’s another ship beyond her, looks like a sloop of war Sir. Could be a Frenchie by the cut of her sails.”

  “Stay there and tell me if there is any change” shouted Merriman, beginning to pace up and down in the limited space left to him. He juggled in his mind with the problem of the different positions and speeds of the three ships. With any luck the French would have their attention fixed on the Dorset and would not yet have seen Aphrodite screened as she was by the Dorset. Maybe they could get even nearer. The hull of the Viceroy’s ship was now visible from the deck, rapidly looming closer as the two ships converged.