A Busy Season (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 8)

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A Busy Season (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 8) Page 16

by Andrew Wareham


  “You need not, my Lord. I was one of the many loyal subjects truly gladdened by the return of His Majesty to his faculties.”

  “One trusts the poor gentleman may remain so blessed, Sir Frederick. I have kept you long enough here, sir. I must return to the dreadful round of supplicants begging ships I do not possess and posts that do not exist. I will not remain in this position one day longer than I must, Sir Frederick, and I may not meet you again as First Lord, so I will ask you whether there is any gentleman you would wish to bring to my attention.”

  “Captain Jackman of Trident, my Lord, is a follower and a friend, and perhaps one of the most able men of my acquaintance. I believe he is to return from the Sugar Islands soon?”

  “I expect to be told that he has made his number at Portsmouth any day now, Sir Frederick. He will be due for a time on shore, I think.”

  “He will, my Lord. I am within reason sure that he has it in mind to wed with the second daughter to Lord Partington, the sister of my own wife.”

  “Very good. He, too, will be ordered to present himself at St James. The question is whether there will be a ribbon available to him or if he must be content with a lesser knighthood.”

  “He is a most deserving gentleman, my Lord.”

  “Then that is the message I shall pass on, Sir Frederick. I much hope that the ribbon of the Bath will be his.”

  Seniority and success brought the power of patronage, it seemed. Frederick made his rather pleased farewell to the First Lord and walked out through the waiting-room. One of the lieutenants caught his eye and begged his ear – he had sailed with Captain Warren, had a good report from him, was in most urgent need of a ship…

  “I shall not be at sea for the next six months, I believe, sir. When I do sail then a follower of Captain Warren’s will always be welcome if I have a place available.”

  It was a promise easy to make; he would keep it, if the occasion arose – Warren could be trusted to give an honest assessment of a man.

  Book Eight: The Duty

  and Destiny Series

  Chapter Six

  Two o’clock, landsman’s time. Too late to sensibly set out to Hampshire, too early to end the day. Frederick took a cab to the offices of his prize agent.

  He was made welcome with almost an excess of servility; evidently there had been an influx of money to his accounts.

  “From Gibraltar, Sir Frederick – the most gratifying sums. Not on the scale of your great coup against the Dutch, of course, sir, yet we are speaking of five figures. Twelve thousands of pounds, Sir Frederick, after all deductions!”

  “How do Government Funds stand at the moment, Mr Young?”

  “Consols are very low, Sir Frederick; they are hovering around fifty. The fear of the depredations of the Combined Fleet remains, sir. Was they to take the Channel for a week, then the invasion would become a reality.”

  “They must pass Lord Nelson first, and that is a task beyond any of Bonaparte’s admirals. My Lord has sailed from Portsmouth to rejoin the blockading fleet within the last week, I am told. Buy Consols, if you would be so good.”

  “All twelve thousand, Sir Frederick?”

  “Every penny, sir!”

  “It might be thought wiser, sir, to perhaps send a little overseas, to America, or to purchase gold. Admittedly, bullion is high just now, but that is perhaps all the more reason to purchase it, while it is at its most valuable.”

  Frederick thought for a moment; then he thought again.

  “With respect, sir, that is bloody nonsense! The time to buy anything is when it is low in price. When it is high, one sells, sir!”

  “Ah, but gold is different, sir! Gold is the mother of wealth!”

  “What utter balderdash, sir! Gold is a metal which one digs out of the ground. It is no more than any other valuable item.”

  The prize agent knew better than Sir Frederick, and was sure that he would regret his unwisdom, but he had no alternative than to obey his instructions.

  If gold was so high then it was no time to buy jewellery; Frederick decided to give Rundell and Bridge a miss on this occasion. He made for his tailor instead.

  “Ah! Sir Frederick! You are returned to England, sir! Uniforms! All lost, you say, sir? That will never do!”

  “I replaced my working uniforms at Gibraltar, but, as goes without saying, their tailoring will not suffice for London!”

  The tailor inspected the uniform Frederick was wearing, said that it was, in fact, and bearing in mind the circumstance, not at all badly cut.

  “One might not wish to be seen in it, Sir Frederick, but for dashing about the decks and jumping into boats and cutting off the heads of Frenchmen and such things, no doubt it will do very well. Somewhat Germanic in style, in fact.”

  “Well, yes, the gentleman was introduced to me as a schneider, sir, which I believe is the German word for a tailor.”

  “Yes indeed, and one of their better trained men, too. One can tell from the stitchwork and the fall of the sleeve at the shoulder, you know, sir. I would imagine from the southern parts, around Koln, rather than out of Hamburg as are most of those we see in London.”

  Frederick was amazed, had not dreamed there was so much art to the tailor’s trade.

  “Be that as it may, Sir Frederick, you were very wise not to commission your Court Dress there. You will be called to a levee, I would imagine, sir? There has been mention of your name in recent months so one might expect some attention to be paid you. Mr Russell has named you to me more than once, sir.”

  It was not easy to accept that he was to even a minor extent a national figure; it was somewhat flattering, however.

  “I must renew my acquaintance with Mr Russell. I am pleased to be named a friend by him and value his knowledge of our world.”

  “He is, I believe, ruralising at the moment, Sir Frederick, at his father’s house. No doubt he will return to the Metropolis very soon.”

  “He is an urban gentleman by habit, I believe. I must away to Hampshire in the morning, but expect to be back in London within a few days. I am sure that Lady Harris will wish to refurbish as well.”

  The roads were mostly still the old tracks, and the English weather as unfavourable to travel as it ever had been, but a long day sufficed to take them to Boorley Green where they discovered Elizabeth and the children.

  “The Port Admiral in Portsmouth sent a note to tell me he had heard that you were to be ordered home, my love. He said in addition, that you were ‘recovering well from your injuries’. Might I make so bold as to enquire just what these injuries were and how you received them and even, perhaps, why you did not inform me of them?”

  “Euripides was lost, my dear, and burned. I took some slight scorching myself in process. I wished to inform you when I saw you, rather than frighten you at a distance. I did not allow for a busy, but no doubt well intentioned, gentleman to supersede me. Also, I did not wish my more important news to arrive other than from my lips. I must go to Long Common now, my dear. You will see that Jean and Marc are not with me.”

  She realised immediately and wept for them, and for their wives and children.

  “What are we to do for them, Frederick?”

  “A large cottage apiece, with a very substantial garden – to be built new for them. A pension, as goes without saying, and Stainer to look after their prize money, perhaps investing in more rented houses for them as they have not enough to buy farms. What have they, two sons for Marc and a son and a daughter to Jean?”

  “That is so – strong and healthy children, too, and brighter than many.”

  “Then we shall look to their education and their future employment. They have a claim, for ever and a day.”

  “To the University at Edinburgh, perhaps?”

  “Like Kent’s boy? A good idea, if they want it.”

  The widows wept and the children wailed, but all knew that the possibility was always there when their men went to sea; it was not so great a shock to them.

/>   “What do us do now, Sir Frederick? Do us come back to work in the kitchen?”

  He explained to the widows that they must never work again.

  “There will be places built for you, three bedrooms as well, and one for your old parents if there is the need. There will be money enough for food and clothing, and of the best. The children also are mine to look after. Your men died fighting for me and they will not be forgotten.”

  It was the old-fashioned way, rapidly disappearing in the new country that was being created. They would spread the word that Sir Frederick looked after his own, no matter what others, unnamed, might do. Three estates on the downland behind Bishops Waltham had turned their land over to wool in the last year; from mixed wheat and beef employing thirty men between them they now carried sheep only and three men and three boys, fathers and sons. More than a score of families had been turned out upon the road. The same was reported all across the chalk lands of Southern England and resentment was bubbling.

  “Is all else well, my love?”

  Elizabeth reported gravely that it was.

  The children flourished; the two estates and Long Common had enjoyed a good harvest, one of the better years, and the price of wheat was still high; things were quiet in Dorset for the while.

  “My sister has received a letter from Captain Jackman and believes him to be soon home in England. His steward in his little estate has been told to open the house in readiness for him.”

  “Lord Barham expects him in Portsmouth any day, my love. He is almost certainly to receive his knighthood, and it may even be the Bath!”

  The Order of the Bath was the premier knighthood and a mark of unusual favour for a commoner; Frederick was by no means certain that it could be achieved for Jackman, but it would guarantee his next employment if it were.

  She was delighted for her sister, who would like to be Lady Jackman, she did not doubt. Her father would approve as well.

  “What of George and his Augusta?”

  “She expects to be delivered of their first-born before Christmas, much to her relief. She had been somewhat upset not to conceive in her first year of marriage but both are now pleased that all is well.”

  “Good! Is George more to be seen on the estates now? He needed be a fraction more obtrusive, I thought.”

  “He is better-known than he was, and the people have an affection for him since he appeared in the ranks of the Volunteers and marched and drilled with the best. They know that he is willing as they say ‘to do his bit’.”

  Frederick’s burns were inspected, head shaken over the scars.

  “Bosomtwi and Kavanagh threw me into the sea, and put the flames out in very quick fashion, otherwise all could have been much worse. I am, as ever, lucky in the men who serve me.”

  “Who is ‘Kavanagh’, Frederick? It is an Irish name, yet he is no Paddy!”

  “He is a Cornishman by birth, he tells me. A younger son who was left without an income on his father’s death when he was little more than a boy. He had an elder brother who would willingly, he admits, have looked after him, but he preferred to be his own man. In the ten years since I do not know what he has done or what he has been, but he is a good man in a fight. I would wish him to go home for a while, to see whether there is a place for him, for his own sake. If he comes back, well, then we can find him a cottage too.”

  “If he is one of ours then we must. But you are right, husband, he must at least see his family. What of the boy, Olsen? How does he come to be in our service?”

  He told her how Olsen was flogged and joined in her outrage.

  “What is to be done with that wicked man, Frederick?”

  “Mr Martindale? Very little, I fear. He will never go to sea again. I suspect though that he may find employment as an officer, perhaps in the Militia, though that is less likely, but more possibly in one of the new regiments that are forever being formed. He could very easily become a lieutenant, even a captain in one of the battalions bound for foreign service in the nastier climes of Africa or the Sugar Islands or even in the East Indies. There he will become a great hanger and flogger, I doubt not.”

  “And is there no way of bringing his career of vice to an end, Frederick?”

  “None at all, my dear. Had he been court-martialled at the time, then he could have been dismissed the Service and he would then have been ineligible to serve the King again. But he was not, for lack of captains to sit, and now, it really is too late. He would claim injustice for a court being called so long after the event, probably with some reason on his side. It is unlikely that the Admiralty would tolerate such a trial now; they would not have liked it then, for bringing the Navy into disrepute. There are those in Parliament who argue that the Navy is only too ready to flog its people – a court in which it was disclosed that a boy was beaten almost to death would draw much unfavourable attention.”

  “Possibly rightly, sir!”

  “No. Certainly rightly, ma’am. There are those captains, only a few but too many, who behave in what must be called a truly wicked fashion, and who escape censure, let alone punishment. They shame us all. In time of war, however, there is little to be done – too few ships, too few men, too many tasks; reform must wait.”

  She was unconvinced, but there were other concerns uppermost in her mind on the night of her husband’s return.

  “We should go up to London, my dear. I have fittings with my tailor and you must, no doubt, speak to your dressmaker and there are other pressing matters as well. We should be seen in Society – the Little Season is still in progress, is it not?”

  It was and there would be balls to attend, concerts and recitals to listen to, At Homes and dinner-parties to be seen at; it was as well to be a part of that particular world if one had children who would eventually be looking to marry profitably.

  “Next week? If Captain Jackman is to be in Portsmouth soon then we should perhaps remain here a few days. As well, you should be seen on the estate, Frederick, and perhaps dine with a few of our neighbours. The invitations will flow in from this afternoon.”

  They were enjoying a belated breakfast, idling quietly together, intending to do very little that day other than talk and catch up on the last commission’s news.

  “How is young Mr Bates, the agent?”

  “He is well liked in the area now. He has the knack of saying the right words to the local men, and of standing up for them when he can. The Revenue men came through just last month, claiming that some of our farmers were distilling spirits and selling them in the locality. Mr Bates was most indignant; he demanded their warrants and insisted that they must go before the Bench to obtain them before they forced entry onto any premises on the estate.”

  “And by the time they had their Warrants every farm and barn was innocent, I do not doubt.”

  “Well… they would have been, but the Magistrates refused them. They demanded evidence of wrong-doing before they would grant the right to search and dismissed the Revenue when they claimed that only a search would produce the evidence that was undoubtedly there.”

  “’To the Devil with the Excise-Man’! It is an old song and still holds, it would seem. How good is the spirit?”

  “An apple brandy, apparently, and as fine as anything coming from Brittany, so I am told.”

  “Excellent. How many bottles have we in the cellar?”

  “I do not know, sir – I would never ask such an incriminating question!”

  “Very good, but they must be careful on the road. The Revenue men have powers on the highway that they do not have in the home.”

  “They know, I am told, and have all in hand.”

  “Very wise! I was a little concerned that Mr Bates is a young man – he will not marry for another ten years, I would expect – and living solitary. That is a way of creating a scandal, one fears.”

  “I believe that he has solved the problem, Frederick. He has a housekeeper and a pair of maids, one of whom, Meg, has long been described as no maide
n at all! One suspects that she will manage to entertain her master to his satisfaction and hers.”

  Frederick reflected that his lady wife, once a Puritan in her thought and ways, had strayed a little from her rigorous upbringing; he did not object.

  “Has there been any more unrest among the labourers while I have been away?”

  “It has not ceased. The price of bread is high and of beef is higher; there has been real want in the labourers’ cottages. Mr Bates has assisted there as well and our people are less affected by dearth than any in the whole area. He has insisted that our farmers pay only partly in money; most of the wages is offered as bread and milk and oatmeal and bacon, potatoes as well when they are in. The families eat as a result. There was a little of trouble when it was discovered that the landlords of two of the local beerhouses were willing to buy bacon and potatoes from the labourers in exchange for gin or beer, and that children were going hungry to make their fathers drunk. That was brought to an end and one of the beerhouse keepers is now a sailorman, sent away by the Bench, and the other chose to sell up, at a very low price which was all he could get.”

  “That was well done. He is a treasure, our Mr Bates, it would seem. Is he happy to use his talents in so small a compass as our estate? He is an able man and might become bored, I would think.”

  “He will, I imagine. I do not know what might become of him.”

  “He must be made aware that I am happy for him to use his talents in other fields, if he can find other occupations. I cannot think of what else he might do, but there will be no constraints upon him.”

  The children came running in; there was a messenger, they said, come all the way from Portsmouth, in a red coat, but not a soldier, or so they thought.

  “If it is a Marine with orders, I shall be most displeased, Frederick!”

  “As shall I, my dear.”

  The Marine had a packet from the Port Admiral but said he was not instructed to expect a reply. He left, pocketing the shilling that Frederick tipped him, very happy with his day’s duty.

 

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