A Continuing War_At Home and at Sea, 1803-1804

by John G. Cragg

  “What would you like to know?”

  “First, do you love Miss Lydia?”

  “Oh, yes. Didn’t I make that clear?”

  “It is always wise to check.” Daphne was beginning to feel a complete fraud. She was probably the same age as Mr. Dimster, and she had no real knowledge of the income needed by a young gentleman to marry. She wasn’t sure that Richard did either.

  “Does Lady Marianne approve?”

  “Yes. She was the one who told me that I should ask you to write to Captain Giles. She said that, if I wrote to Captain Giles, he would just ask your opinion and that that would slow everything down.”

  “Did she, indeed? What is your income?”

  “I have an allowance from my father that I live on. I have lodgings in London. We have quite a lively group of Cambridge men there. If I got married, my father would want me to live in a cottage on our land, so I could learn something about the estate. Maybe become his steward. But he has indicated that he will not raise my allowance if I marry. I am his heir.”

  “Is the estate entailed*?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “How big is the allowance?”

  “Four hundred and fifty pounds a year.”

  “I see,” said Daphne in a rather frosty tone.

  “My father wants me to run for Parliament. If I am elected, he will increase my allowance to at least one thousand pounds a year.”

  “Would he! Does he have a riding in mind?”

  “He did rather suggest that I might be able to obtain the second seat for Dipton.”

  “I see.” Daphne had heard from Giles that the seat was virtually in his gift. Was that the reason for this young man wanting to marry Lydia? This influence and patronage business was quite beyond her understanding. “Is that what you want?”

  “Not really. I wouldn’t like the late nights and I am told that it is hard to have a good marriage if you are an MP.”

  That made Daphne pause. She knew that Giles had been approached to be an MP and she had expressed to him the information that she would support anything he wanted to do.

  “I am not sure that that would be a good idea. Do you know you might be able to find a position learning to manage an estate if you wanted to and so not be so beholden to your father? There are such positions available.” Daphne carefully did not say that the position she was thinking of was at Dipton Hall.

  “If I could get such a place, I think that would be better. I do not like being under my father’s thumb.”

  Daphne thought for several moments. She decided that she liked young Mr. Dimster, though she was most dubious about his father. If it came down to it, she might even suggest to Captain Giles and her father that young Mr. Dipton not be elected MP for Dipton. But as a husband for Lydia, he certainly seemed preferable to Lieutenant Charles or his ilk.

  “Have you talked about this to Lydia?

  “Oh, yes. And she has agreed. She said Captain Giles would be providing a dowry.”

  “Yes. I believe that he was thinking of at least £10,000, in consols*. Valued at four percent per annum, so that would yield £400 per year. I imagine with that amount, together with your £450, you should have enough to allow you to marry.”

  “That is very generous of Captain Giles. Oh, yes, that would certainly allow us to marry, and without my becoming an MP first. Thank you very much, Lady Giles.”

  “I will, of course, have to confirm the amount of the dowry with Captain Giles, as well as whether he will grant permission at all. I will write to him immediately. We had better postpone publishing the banns until he replies. Now, you will want to convey what I have stated to Lydia. I hope you will stay for dinner.”

  Daphne took out a sheet of paper as the young man hastened from the room. She detailed all that she had learned from Mr. Dimster, and gave Richard her recommendation that he would be an acceptable husband for Lydia. She also told him that she had said the dowry would probably be £10, 000, but she thought that £12,500, might be better. She mentioned, in very negative terms, his father’s wanting his son to be the MP from Dipton. After some reflection, she added the young man’s comment about members of the House and marriage. She did not want to influence Richard very much, but a little mild guidance might be in order.

  As Daphne sealed the letter, she realized that the last little bit had been her first deliberate attempt to influence a choice that was entirely his own. She hoped that she wasn’t about to become one of those women who spent much of their time thinking about how to “manage” their husbands. It was one of the most tedious topics that were raised frequently when the ladies came to call or when they were in the drawing room waiting for the men to join them after dinner. Of course, she did want to have her own say in how their child would be raised.

  Before going to join the others, Daphne rubbed her stomach fondly. She knew that it was too early to feel the baby kicking, but she was sure that she was more rounded than she had been. How she wished that Richard were at Dipton!

  Chapter XVIII

  A strong westerly breeze hastened Impetuous’s departure from the fleet. She sped eastward under a bright, pale blue sky, seeming as eager as her crew to demonstrate her abilities after her long lay-up. But avid as they were, little of interest came their way for many days. They did see a good deal of shipping, heading to the English Channel, staying far enough away from land to be out of sight of the coast. Some were Swedish ships and some Danish and many flew the Union Jack. Impetuous spoke to all of them, and inspected most.

  Giles suspected that many of the Scandinavian vessels might really be on their way to France, but, with papers listing English ports as their destination, Giles could not proceed to investigate further. It would invite an international incident that could be exploited by Bonaparte if Giles were to break open the desk of some Swedish captain to see if it contained a different bill of lading, one which showed that the cargo was destined for a French rather than an English port.

  The only respite from the routine and unrewarding stopping of trading ships and the constant practising came from the bi-weekly meetings with Mithradates. Giles dined with Captain Blenkinsop every time they met up. The captain of Mithradates had been having no more luck than Giles. He was getting restless and despondent for he had been counting on getting some prize money. There was very little prospect of that with the way their search had been unfolding. Captain Blenkinsop was not the most entertaining of dinner companions, but these occasions were a relief from Giles’s having to eat alone or guard his words when he entertained his own officers or dined in the wardroom.

  The more important aspect of the meeting with Mithradates was that she brought mail. The news was, of course, not entirely up-to-date. The gap between the writing and the receiving of Daphne’s letters could be anything from one week to a month. But it was far better than if Giles had been assigned to the West Indies or even to the Mediterranean. He adopted the practice of skimming over all her letters as soon as he received them so that he could provide replies to any questions needing an immediate answer. Then he would go over them at leisure savoring every word.

  In the first weeks, the most momentous of these matters to be dealt with quickly had to do with the plans for the stables and the grounds and with Mr. Griffiths’s desire to start breeding in the spring. Later packages contained the plans for the works to be done, first in rough form and then in more detailed drawings. They, of course, had to be studied and his comments would have to wait for the next meeting with Mithradates in order to be conveyed to Daphne.

  Giles was touched that his wife sought his approval for major decisions and took very seriously his suggestions. She didn’t always adopt them, but she always expressed in detail very good reasons for ignoring or modifying them. Knowing her impatient and decisive nature, he had earlier presumed that she would forge ahead with any projects she wanted to undertake, and only inform him after her decisions were made. That would not have been the usual pattern in a marriage, but Daphne
was anything but usual.

  The most important of the letters that he received arrived in a third batch. Daphne was with child! Giles sat back in his chair for several moments as he absorbed the news. He hadn’t expected to learn that he was to be a father, though now he realized that he should not be surprised by this development. Was he pleased? Most decidedly! His mind rushed ahead to wonder whether the child would be a boy or a girl and how he would interact with them and guide them. He shook his head. This was getting far ahead of himself. Right now he needed to assure Daphne that this was exactly the development he most wanted. Without even going on to read her next letter, he took up his pen to write immediately. Only after he had filled both sides of two pages, containing his own feelings about becoming a father, but mainly consisting of advice and admonitions about how Daphne must act now that she was pregnant for her own and the child’s good, did he pause. He realized that on the latter subjects he really had no idea of what was best for his wife or their child, while he had every faith both in the knowledge and sagacity of Mr. Jackson. He tore up what he had already written and instead only wrote of his own delight and his confidence in Mr. Jackson’s and Daphne’s own knowledge and judgment. He then sealed the letter and indicated on the package containing his other letters that this one should be read first. Even though he knew that it would make no difference to when it would arrive, he was then in a rush to have the package delivered to Mithradates for forwarding to the post office, even though he knew that it did not matter just when it was sent to Mithradates since she would not leave any quicker if Impetuous’s mail was received a bit earlier.

  It was Captain Blenkinsop’s turn to entertain. As Giles went on deck to take his barge to the other frigate, he saw that Carstairs was, of course, in the boat. After he boarded it, he told his coxswain the news about Elsie in a voice low enough that it could not be heard by others. His discretion was hardly needed. After taking a minute to absorb the news, Carstairs bellowed, “Blow me down, mates, I am going to be a father!” The effect that this announcement had on the crew of the barge would, on any other ship, have resulted in floggings. Giles, however, was not at all perturbed by the loud, good-natured and vulgar remarks that were directed at Carstairs. He realized that he would have to order an extra tot of rum for every one when he returned to Impetuous. He was not even much put out when he, himself, had to answer Mithradates’ hail or even that at the last minute had to give the order so his boat did not ram the frigate.

  After this excitement, life on the frigate resumed the pattern they had established. There was no sign of privateers or of their victims. Giles started to think that maybe they operated on the other side of the Jutland Peninsula, taking their victims in Danish waters and conveying their prizes to some Baltic port, possibly Lubeck or Rostock. They would be violating Danish neutrality possibly. However, with the fear that Bonaparte put into most European hearts, the Danes or the Germans might not make serious objection to privateer activities. He wrote to Admiral Gardiner seeking permission to investigate this possibility and awaited Mithradates’ return impatiently.

  One day, Impetuous overtook a ship flying the Swedish flag. She was reluctant to heave to* in order to talk with the British frigate, and Giles ordered a shot across her bows to warn her to heave to. When she had backed her sail, Giles brought Impetuous close enough to allow easy communication over the narrow strip of water separating the two vessels.

  “What ship is that?” Giles bellowed.

  “Linnea, out of Stockholm, with a cargo of Stockholm tar, bound for Portsmouth.”

  The Danish coast was in clear sight and they were possibly in Danish waters. The Danes might take exception if he stopped a Swedish ship in their waters. Giles was about to wish the other captain a good voyage onwards, when Mr. Hendricks caught his attention.

  “Captain, that man’s accent is not Scandinavian. He is pretending to talk like a Swede, but he is from somewhere else, maybe France.”

  “Why do you think that, Mr. Hendricks?”

  “Sir, in Hull, where I grew up, we saw a lot of Scandinavians. That man’s accent does not fit at all. He sounds like someone from France trying to sound like a Swede.”

  “Linnea,” Giles called. “Stand by to receive an inspection party.”

  “I protest! We are neutrals. You have no right.”

  “We most certainly do,” Giles retorted in another bellow.

  “Mr. Hendricks. Take the launch and inspect her papers. If you smell a rat, search her. You are right about that accent. Thank you for pointing it out to me.”

  At that moment, Linnea swung her backed topsail in an attempt to get away, possibly hoping that the nuisance of giving chase would allow her to escape. Giles’s reaction was immediate.

  “Mr. Miller. Another shot across her bows, and I don’t care if you take out her bowsprit. Mr. Hendricks, man the sheets to get us under way.”

  The shot crashed out, and while it did not hit the bowsprit, it did sever a jib-sheet so that Linnea’s jib lost the wind as it flapped uselessly and the vessel headed into the wind and lost way.

  “Belay the sheet order,” Giles reacted. “Mr. Hendricks, Mr. Macauley, take the launch with a file of Marines and some extra armed seamen and inspect her very carefully.”

  Two bells later, the launch returned with a couple of well-dressed men.

  “What have we here, Mr. Hendricks?” Giles asked.

  “Sir, this is Captain Jensen of the Linnea and that is the rogue who was pretending to be the captain. He won’t give his name. Linnea was bound for Portsmouth from Stockholm when she was taken by a brig of war under French colors. A French privateer, supposedly. Captain Jensen thinks that their intention was to take Linnea almost to Dover and then cross the Channel at night to Calais or Boulogne.”

  “Captain Jensen, I am happy to restore your ship to you. Could you take the prisoners to Portsmouth for me? They will probably be judged to be pirates since you are a neutral ship, but that is out of my hands.”

  “Yes, indeed, sir. And thank you for investigating and freeing us.”

  “Thank Mr. Hendricks, here. He is the one who realized something was wrong. Now captain, I hope you will join me for a drink.”

  Giles had no right to interrogate Captain Jensen since Linnea sailed as a neutral ship well away from any blockaded port, but he could certainly listen to the captain’s tales and prompt the other captain to give more information. Linnea had been captured about seven leagues south of the Skagen* Peninsula near the entrance to the Skagerrak*. The captor had been a large, heavily armed brig of war. She had been flying Danish colors and Linnea could not have avoided her even if she had wanted to. In addition to the Danish Flag, the ship had a Danish-looking name board, declaring her to be the Dannebrog from Copenhagen. The brig had had a very large crew, mostly Frenchmen. The officers were also French. They had imprisoned Linnea’s crew on board the captured vessel rather than on the capturing brig, but Captain Jensen could still hear discussions among their captors. In listening to them he had gained a wide knowledge of the pirates and their plans.

  The raiders were from a pair of very large brigs, armed with eighteen pounders, apparently so that they could match anything less powerful than a frigate. They had some sort of base near the mouth of the Skagerrak, but had not been operating there for several months while they were refitted and repaired in Rostock. The two brigs had returned to their Norwegian base with large crews so that they could capture and send into port many ships without having to return to get more men or to recover those who had been sent away.

  When Giles had extracted as full a description of the pirate brigs as he could, he guided Captain Jensen, who had been drinking brandy rather than wine, on deck, and saw him to the launch with many expressions of mutual respect. His orders then snapped out. “Make sail, Mr. Hendricks, all plain sail to the top gallants. Mr. Brooks, what would be the course to take us to the Skagen? It has been a good morning’s work after all the disappointments we have had. I hop
e that all officers will dine with me so we can celebrate, even though this is a very minor triumph.”

  It was a convivial and congenial party that gathered in the Captain’s cabin. Even the small action involved in rescuing Linnea had relieved the boredom of their unproductive search. It was Mr. Stewart who broached the subject uppermost in all the officers’ minds. “Will we get prize money for Linnea, Captain Giles?”

  “I don’t think so. But I think we should get some salvage*. I don’t know how much, but don’t expect a lot. It might be enough to buy a couple of cases of good wine for the wardroom.”

  This gibe was met with laughter. They all knew that the wardroom wine was hardly drinkable. Indeed, when Giles was invited to dine in the wardroom, he arranged with Carstairs that a few bottles of his own wine would mysteriously be conveyed to the steward in charge of the needs of the officers so that a more pleasant evening could be enjoyed, but no one would have to acknowledge the source of the wine.

  Impetuous raced northward. She should be meeting Mithradates near the Skagen anyway. Giles wondered if the Admiral would give permission to chase the privateers down the Skagerrak if that was the direction they chose to take. That, of course, was getting ahead of himself. He first had to find the brigs or at least get more reliable word as to where they might be.

  There was no sign of Mithradates when Impetuous arrived at the rendezvous. She kept her position, reaching back and forth through the night and all the next day. Giles was becoming anxious, but there was any number of inconsequential reasons why the other frigate should be late. He would stay where he was for a few more days. Night fell, a moonless night with a heavy cloud cover, so the lookouts could hardly see. Impetuous was on a starboard reach, with the Danish coast reckoned to be four miles distant, heading towards the passage between Norway and Denmark. There was only enough wind to maintain steerage way . As dawn approached, a keen-eyed lookout in the starboard bow hailed the quarter deck, “Ship in sight, distance four cables, approaching us, two points off the starboard bow.”