Lord David was announced at nine-thirty. He was impatient to get going and the ever perceptive Steves had ordered that Moonbeam be saddled and brought up to the house as soon as he had been told that Lord David had been spied riding up the drive. Soon the trio were again on their way to Salton Masham. Lord David wanted to stop at Drucker’s Bank in Ameschester, to find out how he might pay for the horse he wanted to buy. He knew that Mr. Edwards, Captain Giles’s man-of-business, had set up an account for him in the Bank on which he could write cheques for his expenses, but he was not sure if he had enough money on deposit to pay for the horse. Daphne teased him that he should have listened more carefully to Captain Hicks’s explanation of banking, to which Lord David replied that if he had not been confused before the Captain’s discussion, he surely would have been after, except that he had paid no attention to the presentation. Daphne also didn’t really understand how these accounts all worked. She knew that Mr. Edwards regularly forwarded bills of exchange drawn on Coutt’s Bank in London to Drucker’s Bank. She had been assured by Mr. Edwards that virtually any amount that she would spend would be paid by the Bank without worry. He had also arranged for all her accounts for regular types of purchases to be paid directly when she had approved them. It had never occurred to her to wonder just how the money was transferred from London to the people who would receive it.
Mr. Drucker, the owner of the bank, assured Lord David that even quite large draughts on the bank would be honored. If there were an over-draught, which he explained happened when a request to have the bank pay out more money than was actually in the account was honored by the bank, there would be a small amount of interest charged. Daphne wasn’t at all sure that Lord David really understood the details of the ins and outs of banking, even though Mr. Drucker’s explanation was a great deal clearer than had been Captain Hicks’s. She was sure, however, that he got the main point which was that he could certainly pay for the horse and not have to worry about finding himself in difficulties over the payment.
The three travelers had a pleasant luncheon at the Fox and Hounds, which served a fine Welsh rarebit and plum duff and a tankard of excellent ale, in a warm room, removed from the common bar. The men assured Daphne that the fare was a good deal better than what had been served at the hunt dinner. Their further conversation turned largely on hunting and horses. All three were used to having horses in their lives, but the nearest they had come to how horses were reared was the auction ring, except for the accidental breeding of the sort that had produced Moonbeam. Mr. Moorhouse was also riding a horse that had arrived on his estate by an accidental mating of his horses, and it was also a good horse, though not as good as Moonbeam. Mr. Moorhouse teased Daphne that she should consider breeding horses as part of her agricultural activities. That led to a long discussion of what made a horse a good one, and how one might be able to plan to raise superior mounts.
They proceeded happily on to Salton Masham. Mr. Griffiths was more than pleased to let the two men try the horses again, while he and Daphne entered his office to complete the transfer of the mare she had chosen whose name was Serene Masham. Mr. Griffiths explained to Daphne that he had been told to set the price at £120, but he also had been told that he should accept, if necessary, £90. Daphne realized that Mr. Griffiths was too honest for his own good and decided to offer £95. They struck an amicable deal at that price and then turned to discussing the stud farm, whose books Daphne had returned.
“I was intrigued by the detailed records you keep of all the horses you have bred, and even the results of unsuccessful couplings,” Daphne commented. “They were certainly well kept, Mr. Griffiths.”
“Thank you, my lady. Raising horses is my passion as well as my trade, and I get great satisfaction just looking in the book and seeing, in my mind’s eye, all the horses that have passed through these stables. There have been some steeple-chase champions and some that were famous for usually being in at the kill while hunting. Of course, these sorts of result also depend on the rider, but he cannot win without a winning horse.”
“I suppose so. And will Serene Masham be one who will stay in your mind?”
“Oh, yes, my lady. Such fine lines and so good natured. I will be sad to see her go.”
“What will happen to you, Mr. Griffiths, when the stud activities are sold?”
“I don’t know, my lady. There will be no need for a horse breeder and trainer at Salton Masham Grange after the stud is sold. Or at any other estate near here. My wife doesn’t want to leave, but I don’t think we will have a choice. I will just have to look for work as a stable master somewhere else.”
“Well, I am afraid that Dipton Manor and Dipton Hall both already have adequate stable masters, since neither estate breeds horses. There is another side to the accounts that I should mention to you.”
“What is that, my lady?”
“I could not understand why the expenses seemed to rise suddenly in the last year while your activities did not. Did something change?”
“Of course, young Mr. Audley took over, and he brought in his own bookkeeper. Young Mr. Audley shows much less interest in the farm than did his father. I confess that I don’t really know how to interpret all those figures in the records, but I am surprised by what you tell me. We have been running as tight a ship as in Mr. Daniel Audley’s day, even though the owner isn’t as interested. But you would need someone better able to interpret the numbers to explain what was going on.”
“I suspect that the new bookkeeper has been slipping some money into his own pocket as an expense,” said Daphne. “But I only looked over the accounts quickly, so I can hardly accuse the new man.”
“Yes, my lady. I’ll try to keep an eye on him.”
Their business finished, Daphne and Mr. Griffiths chatted on about horses and farming and how uneven the past summer’s harvest had been, and even how the war was affecting their different prospects. Mr. Griffiths was particularly distressed that the demand for cavalry mounts and other horses for the army had rather lowered the standards for good horses. Of course, he added, that had little effect on the Navy. He just hoped that that service could keep this man Bonaparte on the other side of the Channel.
At last, Mr. Moorhouse and Lord David had made their choices, though Mr. Moorhouse had had to end Lord David’s dithering by riding both of the vicar’s possible mounts and choosing between them. Despite Lord David’s continuing confusion about banking, Mr. Griffiths was happy to accept their draughts on Drucker’s Bank. The three decided to ride their new mounts home.
They set off to return to Dipton. It began to sprinkle soon after they passed through Ameschester, and before long it was raining heavily. They all stopped at Dipton Manor to have tea, partly in the hope that the downpour would ease up before Daphne and Lord David had to proceed to their own homes. It was a distinctly damp trio that assembled in front of the roaring fire that Tisdale had had the maids build in anticipation of Mr. Moorhouse’s return. The warmth of the fire, added to the hot buttered scones that were part of the tea, kept them cheerful as they planned to give their horses a good workout before the next hunt. The meet was scheduled to be held in only three days’ time.
It was raining even more heavily as Lord David and Daphne emerged from Dipton Manor. They did not tarry in riding to their respective abodes, but, even so, Daphne was soaked through by the time she reached the portico of Dipton Hall. She directed the footman, who emerged to hold her horse as she dismounted, to have the animal taken to the stables. She rushed into the house. The heavy, homespun wool riding clothes, which could protect her from more normal rain, were hanging on her as a heavy, sagging brown load in which she could hardly move. She stood shivering for a moment before a concerned and open-mouthed Steves, as a puddle formed on the marble of the entrance floor, before trudging up the stairs to shed her clothes. She just hoped that a fire was burning in her room for her teeth were beginning to chatter.
Chapter XIII
Admiral Gardiner looked ve
ry angry. He had asked for the full story of the attack on Boulogne, more detailed than the written report that lay before him as yet unread. Giles had reached the point in his narration where Généreux and Impetuous diverged from each other so that Généreux would appear from the north while Impetuous would seem to be coming to Boulogne from the south. It was also the point at which it was clear that Giles would be going into Boulogne on the brig while leaving Lieutenant Milton to command Impetuous. The Admiral said nothing as Giles continued his presentation, but it was clear that he was not pleased as he glowered at Giles during the rest of the story. When Giles finished, the Admiral’s first comment was, “Why in God’s name did you take command of Généreux yourself, Captain Giles?”
“It seemed best for me to command the most difficult part of the attack.”
“Best? Best? How could it be ‘best’ for you to put your valuable frigate in the hands of your lieutenant and take command of the hazardous venture, where any number of things could go wrong that were quite beyond your control, in a ship that was going to be destroyed anyway?”
“Lieutenant Milton did very well, sir. I would never have thought of the ruse of missing stays to allow the brig to seem to escape.”
“Maybe not. But remember that he brought Impetuous into range of the shore guns just because you needed rescuing from you arsonry. It was only sheer luck that the French aim was faulty so that their guns only took out your cabin lights. Impetuous could easily have been sunk.”
“Yes, sir.” Giles was not about to protest that he would have taken the same actions if Mr. Milton’s and his own roles had been reversed. He knew that Mr. Milton had been in the wrong and the fact that he would have done the same did not change that evaluation.
‘Well, all’s well that ends well,” said the Admiral with a slight grin. “You do have a knack for getting rid of bothersome people.”
“Sir?”
“Captain Hoxley. I don’t know what we would have done with him if he had lived. These papers he collected are likely to be quite valuable, but the man himself was a bloody pirate, nothing more. He should have been hung! At least now he cannot be rewarded for his perfidity. Was he really your only casualty?”
“Yes sir.”
“Remarkable! Especially after the way you got rid of that lieutenant, what was his name, Kirkpatrick?”
“I protest, sir. I in no way intended Lieutenant Kirkpatrick to be killed – or Captain Hoxley, either.”
“I suppose not. But luck trumps cleverness every time. Now, I imagine that Impetuous needs the attention of the dockyard more than ever.”
“Yes sir, and supplies.”
“Go directly into the dockyard at Chatham; don’t wait in the Nore for them to summon you. It’s all done on the basis of influence or worse there. I have sent word that you will be coming and that there will be all hell to pay if Impetuous is not attended to immediately. Even though Boney* is not likely to invade in the depths of winter and his invasion craft are still being assembled and you have just dealt them a blow, I need you back on patrol to harass him. And Captain Giles, use your title when you deal with the Dockyard. I know that you don’t normally use it in the Navy, though I see no reason why you shouldn’t. It will emphasize to them that you are a quickly brightening star in the Navy’s firmament and they may not know how little influence you really have as yet. Furthermore, with the acquisition of Dipton Hall, you may well be more important than you realize.
“Good luck to you, Captain Giles. I presume that your Mr. Milton can supervise the repairs and that you will return to Dipton while they are going on. Give my regards to Lady Giles. You do know that you will have to return some time before the repairs are supposed to be finished to chivy the Dockyard to keep working on Impetuous, do you not?”
“Yes, sir.” Giles, in fact, had not thought of that complication. He secretly admired how the wily Admiral had neatly countered any tendency for Giles to tarry longer than wise at Dipton.
“There is one other matter, Captain Giles.”
“Yes?”
“With the promotion of Mr. Correll, you must be short of a midshipman.”
“I am, sir.”
“If you have not yet filled the position, I have a suggestion for you to consider.”
“Yes, sir?”
“My sister’s grandson. Her daughter is married to Lord Merville’s son, his second son. Their boy’s name is Ian Maciver. He’s a good lad, just fourteen. He would like to go to sea. He has been on Penelope’s books for the last two years, but the truth is that there really is no room for him here. He hasn’t been on board yet. It is time, though, that he went to sea if he is really to progress in the Navy. He would learn much quicker on an active frigate than on a flagship that never goes anywhere. You would be doing me a great favor if you could find room for him in Impetuous.”
“With pleasure, sir. I will look forward to meeting the young man. It would be a good idea if he reported to the ship in a couple of weeks. Give him a chance to become familiar with the ship while she is not bouncing around in a storm.”
So that was how it was done, Giles reflected, as he made his way back to Impetuous. Do a favor by pushing the Dockyard to give prompt service, and get a favor in finding a position for a relative. All very logical, but he had never really seen so clearly the system at work first-hand. He couldn’t say that he approved of this way of running the Navy, but if that was the game, he would be more than happy to play it.
Chatham Dockyard sprawled for a mile along the Medway River. Giles had never been there, at least not on business, though earlier in his career he had been on ships in the Nore. Fortunately for him, Mr. Brooks had experience with the establishment and confidently took Impetuous right up to a jetty close to the Superintendent’s office. Luckily, Captain Smythe, the superintendent was not away, though he often was, and Giles had word sent in that Captain Sir Richard Giles wished to speak with him. Whether it was on account of the Admiral’s warning, Giles emphasis on the title, whose details he had no doubt that Captain Smythe looked up before asking for Captain Giles to be sent in, or simply that the Superintendent was exhibiting unusual competence for someone working in His Majesty’s Dockyards, Giles was shown into Captain Smythe’s room after hardly any wait. Of course, Impetuous’s needs would be given high priority. Most important, definitely most important. Admiral Gardiner had stressed how critical were Sir Richard’s requirements. Why, Captain Smythe would dispatch his senior shipwright immediately to survey Impetuous’s needs. Giles returned to his ship and was followed in half an hour by a Mr. Cornwell, a rather rotund, red-faced, cheerful man who announced that he was the master shipwright sent to examine the frigate’s needs. Giles turned him over to Mr. Evans and Mr. Shearer, Impetuous’s carpenter and bosun, to make a thorough examination of the various bits of damage that the frigate had suffered as well as a more general assessment of her needs. Giles settled at the table in his cabin to catch up on the never-ending stream of paper work that accompanied the running of a naval ship, and to read and reread the latest letters from Daphne that had reached him after Impetuous docked.
It was well into the first dog watch before the marine sentry announced that Mr. Cornwell, Mr. Evans and Mr. Shearer wished to see him. The news was not entirely good. Mr. Cornwell was particularly worried about the place where the cannonball from the fort had struck the frigate near the waterline. She would require dry-docking to examine the damage properly and to replace any strakes that had been broken or weakened. Mr. Cornwell would need to do some calculations and consult dockyard schedules before he could estimate how long the work might take. If Captain Giles would visit the Superintendent’s office after ten o’clock the following morning, the Superintendent should be able to give an estimate of how much time would be required before the frigate could be released. In the meantime, it would probably be best if Impetuous anchored out in the river to free up the jetty. Giles noted with amusement the confidence with which the shipwright was able to give wha
t amounted to orders to a post captain. He must have found that his control of the repair process gave him a distinct edge in dealing even with officers of that lofty rank
The following morning found Giles in the Superintendent’s office again together with Mr. Cornwell and a couple of other senior functionaries. Yes, the damage was serious, possibly more so than Sir Richard had realized. Impetuous would certainly need dry-docking and that had to be fitted into a busy dockyard schedule. It would take at least ten weeks before the frigate would be ready for sea, and it might be longer if they found more serious weaknesses. It was a pity that the standards of French shipbuilding had so deteriorated with their revolution.
Giles feigned horror at the estimate. He stressed the importance of the work on the frigate and the urgency of getting her back on station. He wondered if Admiral Gardiner had emphasized how important was her role. Why, just before coming to Chatham, Impetuous had been responsible for destroying a large number of Boney’s invasion fleet. And that was an expedition undertaken partly at the urging of the Warden of the Cinque Ports. Of course, the Superintendent knew his own work best, but Giles was sure that his father, the Earl Marquis of Camshire, would be delighted to hear that the Superintendent had succeeded in cutting the period required to four weeks. Giles would have to tell him, of course, when he saw him to explain why he did not have to return to his ship so soon. The Warden would, undoubtedly, be concerned to hear for how long the frigate would be out of service.
A Continuing War_At Home and at Sea, 1803-1804 Page 17