He was fully supplied with powder and shot and could justify a certain amount for the purposes of training. But what he had in mind went beyond that. Finding a way to provide was not something he wished to have recorded in the ship’s ledgers, either his own or that of Mr Low, the gunner. Obscuring overuse was near impossible when, at some time in the future, said logs would be compared and he as captain could be billed for what was seen as excessive expenditure.
To creep away in darkness was a risk, but the tide was right, falling from its peak on a night with a near-full moon, added to a medium strength south-westerly. The reflected glow of said moon on the river, coming from the east, almost gave him a bearing to follow. In addition, the shores of both Kent and Essex were inhabited along its length, so there were pinpricks of light to act as landmarks.
The crew off duty had been roused out twice before at night, but had only moved to their allotted positions, not acted upon them. When they were given the same orders as had been issued in daylight, there was a ripple of apprehension. Hallowell and Worricker began yelling the requisite commands which, when executed, were carried out with an annoying amount of noise and confusion.
‘So much for departing in secret, Michael.’
O’Hagan was standing by his side, as was the youngster Livingston, who was, during the day, being educated in mastering the signal flags. Mr Williams had insisted, on this occasion, he would take the wheel, with a man to help him.
‘Sure,’ Michael hooted, ‘they’ll reckon the Dutch are in the offing. There’s enough row to have the fleet beating to quarters.’
Sure enough there was lantern movement on various quarterdecks, but that had to be ignored as, more slowly than he would have hoped, Hazard got under way. The familiar creaking of timbers, the stretching and hiss of the wind through the rigging, was somehow reassuring. To begin with the yards had to be braced right round, to get them clear of Garrison Point, the flaring torchlights of the fortress on the peninsula giving a clear indication of distance.
Once out in the broader Thames, Pearce, or more importantly the master, felt secure in putting down his helm, bringing the yards round to take more wind. Williams had put a man in the bows to look out for other vessels, which amused his captain. No sensible merchantman, Pearce thought, would make their way beyond the mouth of the estuary after nightfall.
It was the hunting ground of press gangs from individual vessels. To do so risked having half the crew forcibly removed, but Williams worried the sloop might run afoul of someone anchored on a deliberately darkened ship in order to avoid such a fate, and insisted on taking all precautions.
There is something ghostly about sailing at night, better in moonlight than under cloud cover, which had Pearce wonder if any of these men new to the sea were prey to superstitions. If they suffered such an affliction, they’d find happy company in the navy. He had never met such a bunch of old women, who had a curse ready to fit every ordinary act. That said, it was a brave man who scoffed, not for fear of the supernatural but as a precaution against the Jeremiahs, men who’d put the whole ship on edge with their fancies.
There was another fellow in the chains to cast the log, a runner of a ship’s boy sent back to tell Mr Williams how many knots they were making, rarely more than two. At each message, once the slate was marked, the master would retire to his cabin, employing his dividers to check their position. Amidships, Charlie Taverner was casting for depth of water, for in the Thames lay a mass of ever-shifting sandbanks. In this Pearce was as concerned as Williams; to run aground would be humiliating.
‘Time to put up our helm, Captain. Happen you’d care to check.’
Which Pearce did; it was expected and, in truth, he was keen to show his ability at navigation, even if he lacked the depth of knowledge that would have come from a more normal induction into command.
‘I rate your calculations spot on, Mr Williams.’
He left behind a man swelling with pride, which he held to be a touch excessive.
Back on the quarterdeck Pearce gave an order to Livingston. ‘Please go to Misters Hallowell and Worricker and advise them we are about to alter course to the south.’
‘Aye aye, sir,’ he squeaked, before dashing off.
‘That one’s even younger than his years,’ Michael said.
‘I’m sure he’ll grow to be what the service requires,’ was the only thing Pearce could say in reply.
The hands, who’d been below, were brought up to man the falls, to swing the yards once more, while Williams spun the wheel as he gave instructions to the topmen to clew up the topsails a reef, careful to tell Pearce why he had acted so.
‘We’re heading for shore, sir. Wouldn’t do to be beached.’
‘My sentiments exactly, Mr Williams.’
Dawn found HMS Hazard off the mouth of Faversham Creek, safely at anchor, in deep water, with the hands going about their normal duties. A pair of East Indiamen, down from London on their way to the Orient, lay close by. They were there, no doubt like him, to take on powder, in a place where the press of all kinds were forbidden to operate. Shot would have been loaded upriver, coming as it did from any number of foundries around the country.
Once the men had breakfasted, Pearce called for his barge to take him ashore, his intention to visit the official who oversaw the working of the powder factories. He took with him a marine corporal and two of his men. Once they made the quay and he had disembarked, Maclehose was instructed to return to the ship, to avoid the chance of anyone deserting.
There were several powder factories around the Faversham area, but the management office lay between the quayside and the town centre, though he had been obliged to enquire as to its location. His aim was to find what he wanted to purchase and how much it would cost. Another enquiry was needed: the location at which the coaches passing through the town en route to Canterbury tended to stop.
Pearce was no stranger to the price of the product he was seeking; it was listed as a per-barrel item in his ledgers. That was as a government product, from a government factory for the military arm of same. He feared, and was proved correct, that the price was higher for private buyers. Not that he had any intention of dipping into his own funds.
He waited for Oliphant at the Bear Inn who, when he arrived, declined the notion of going aboard and so took a room. They had enjoyed some food, as well as ale from the local brewery before Pearce made his opening gambit. It did not go down well, in fact he ran into a wall of opposition.
‘Might I remind you, though I cannot see why I have to, that I signed for that cask of coin from Dundas?’
‘Three hundred in specie you tell me, Oliphant, with no idea how it is to be disbursed. Is it to be used to bribe, to buy support or just to expend on necessary expense? It matters not. As I found in the Vendée, there is no way to properly account for how it is employed. I also say that what I propose is a worthwhile purpose.’
‘It was not meant for the buying of powder.’
‘Let me take the responsibility. I will include the bill in any returns we are required to make and accept responsibility.’
‘He could demand you pay it back.’
‘Dundas can demand away. I have sidestepped that threat before and I’m sure I can do so again.’
‘And if he cannot get satisfaction from you, what then?’ A finger was pushed into the Oliphant chest. ‘He will come after me.’
‘I am in command of a ship which, as of this moment, is only just getting to the point of being able to sail.’
‘And you want me to come aboard,’ was the arch response. ‘No doubt you’d have me haul on a rope.’
‘When we set off you might have to.’ Said to shock Oliphant, he soon realised it was a joke but what came next was deadly serious. ‘Sailing will improve, of that I’m certain. I can already see signs of a group beginning to work together. What I worry about more is our ability to fight.’
‘Then work out a strategy to avoid the need.’
‘
You talk as if that is in my hands, but it might not be. I cannot command the wind. And nor can I guarantee to you we will not come across an armed enemy vessel, one that has the weather gage on Hazard.’
‘You are a master of nautical verbiage, Pearce.’
‘While you are an incorrigible lubber, my friend.’
The tankards were employed by Pearce to explain what he meant. It had always amazed him that landsmen were so ignorant, as he had at one time been himself, that the wind dictated everything at sea. That applied to nothing as much as fighting. It was the primary task, be it a fleet or a single ship action, to get to windward of your enemy, because that allowed you to control what came next.
Oliphant made a good fist of looking bored by the explanation, but Pearce reckoned he could not help but be interested, especially when the man explaining matters to him went on to relate the possibility of him suffering from the outcome. A loss in battle might not see him wounded or killed, but it would most certainly see him taken prisoner.
‘The King’s Navy relies on firepower in battle. It is the French habit to stand off from close engagement and to seek to disable their opponent by shredding the rigging. We seek to close and batter them into submission by the sheer rate of fire. We run in our guns and reload, ready to fire, on the basis of two-to-one advantage. Sometimes, on a truly crack frigate, even more.’
The tankards, representing ships at sea, were near to touching now. ‘Such a rate often upends the cannon, and it drives the enemy gunners away from their weapons. Those firing on the upper deck, in the case of Hazard it would be the swivels, will try to decimate the enemy command by fusillades aimed at the quarterdeck. Then, if they don’t strike, we board.’
‘You make it sound as if we never lose, which I know from the journals is far from the case.’
Pearce slapped the table. ‘We lose when the conditions are against us, when we are outnumbered, and when the gun crew training is neglected, which takes no account of poor captaincy.’
‘I am still disinclined to oblige you.’
Pearce was encouraged by that; the flat refusal had been moderated. ‘Even with an inexperienced crew, I back myself to get close to anyone we have to fight.’
‘You do not mention flight, just fight.’
‘I will and have sought to avoid battle where the odds did not favour me. But I can tell you of one occasion, in the Mediterranean, in which every attempt to avoid engagement was thwarted. Had I not been lucky, I might have ended up as a galley slave.’
‘Tell me of it.’
Oliphant was prevaricating and Pearce was having none of it. ‘I would suggest if we faced the same conditions against a Frenchman, you would take capture by Barbary. What would the people who know of you in Paris, the ones who would address you as Bertrand, mete out? Perhaps, given you are so keen on tales, you would like to tell me what is the provenance of that name?’
‘While I would say that is none of your affair.’
‘Is it not? I went to Paris in your company, thinking I was in the company of a man called Oliphant, as I am now. And yet I’m uncertain if that or Bertrand is your true name. What we were engaged in was dangerous enough, without additional and concealed concerns.’
The response was pugnacious. ‘You are a sailor, Pearce; I am what I am. Oliphant will serve.’
‘Which comes close to an admission that’s not your true name either. In truth, while it worried me once, I have ceased to fret on it. I realise you have abilities I do not possess. Would you grant the same in reverse to me?’
If he was reluctant to do so, he stayed silent, for conversation continued in the present vein was not only uncomfortable, it was in danger of becoming too revealing.
‘I have no more mind to perish in battle or be taken prisoner than you. What I am asking for is that which will lessen the chance of it happening.’
‘How much do you require?’
‘Fifty pounds would serve.’
‘And you’re sure it is necessary?’
‘Wise. Only time will tell if it’s necessary.’
‘Would you be willing to put the request for the funds you require in writing, and with the reasons?’
Pearce was reluctant to do so, for obvious reasons. It made no odds if it was the Admiralty or Dundas seeking recompense, he would be on the hook for the money. What decided him to agree was one possibility. The need might not arise with Dundas, whereas it was a certainty with the naval administration. And then there was the old adage, there’s many a slip betwixt cup and lip. He had no idea what the immediate future might bring and neither did his companion.
‘I will ask the innkeeper for quill and paper,’ Oliphant insisted, when Pearce nodded.
The requirements were met and the details agreed, before being listed. ‘I offer you a chance to reconsider.’
‘No. But do not extract the cost of your staying here, as well as the services it provides, from the same source.’
That got a sharp rejoinder as the paper was signed. ‘The navy feeds you, Pearce, who is to feed me if not Dundas?’
‘I require the key, unless you are intending to accompany me?’
‘Be assured,’ he said, fetching the key from a waistcoat pocket. ‘I trust you not to cheat.’
It would not help, Pearce thought, to deny him the same.
Faversham was well equipped with hoys, supplying as it did an endless number of vessels calling to take on powder. He insisted on inspecting his purchase, payment on delivery, for quality, despite the assurance that, in providing for the armed forces, it was guaranteed as the best grade available. He not only ground the product between his fingers, blacking them with the charcoal, he sniffed for the level of sulphur and saltpetre.
That afternoon, when the ship’s company had dined, the shore around Faversham Creek resounded mightily to the firing of cannon, in which the new men took great pleasure. For every discharge, the weapons were pulled in a dozen times, the act required to load, run out and fire them rehearsed. The actual addition of a powder charge was being used as a reward for a shortening in timing, this overseen by Hallowell and Worricker and reported to their captain.
‘The aim, gentlemen, is for two minutes. We are very far from that.’
Finally he had balls fetched up and chipped where required, and an empty powder barrel floated off to act as a target. Not one hit it, but several landed close, sending up great plumes of water, bringing forth hurrahs from the aiming gun crew.
The firing lasted until he was informed, by a powder monkey, that Mr Low had run through his purchase and, if he wanted to continue, it would be from the ship’s own store. So the cannon were wormed and washed down, some of them requiring blacking. Once housed for the night, the information was passed on that tomorrow would be a return to sailing and anchoring drill.
Pearce knew he was running out of time. Soon he would have to get out to sea, even if he was unsure the crew were fully ready.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Walter Hodgson was sat in another office waiting to be seen, this time that of a lawyer called Thomas Southouse, a man with whom he had had many dealings before and one with whom it was wise to make an appointment. He was not the only one waiting: Southouse had a busy attorney practice, with several apprentices under his wing. These youngsters bustled in and out of various rooms, all carrying briefs and all in a hurry.
Part of the thief-taker’s trade was patience, so there was no annoyance in being kept waiting. Besides, he had much to think about, not least his interview with Edward Druce. There were things he was not being told, but then he didn’t need to be. He had to reckon that as far as Druce was concerned, the name of Denby Carruthers was only known as his being the husband of the victim.
Head on chest he failed to notice that Southouse had come out to fetch him.
‘You slumbering, Mr Hodgson?’
The head came up slowly and with it a smile. ‘Never sleep, Mr Southouse. If I did I never collar any of the rogues I’m sent to
find.’
He had a habit of cocking his head to one side and Southouse did that now. ‘You obviously wish to see me?’
‘If you have time.’
‘I rate it interesting, if you’ve come without prior notice.’
‘And I think it’d be right to do so, for the subject merits it. But I must warn you it might take time.’
The lawyer looked around the crowded waiting room, at a series of expectant faces holding bundles of papers, which fell somewhat as he said, ‘There’s nowt here that cannot be dealt with by my assistants. Best come in.’
Southouse had taken his seat before Hodgson, having picked up his folder, got through the door, which had the thief-taker wonder how he had managed to weave his way through the masses of files, both those piled up and the rest, which littered the floor. It was not necessary to allude to his being busy; he had been that since Hodgson first met him.
‘Where have you been these last two years?’
‘Here and there.’
The lips twitched for the coming pun. ‘From what I hear, it’s damn near everywhere.’
‘Surprised you noticed.’
The hair had thinned since the last time they had met, and the ends of what remained, which hung long on either side of his head, were grey at the tips. A finger was used to push a thin pair of spectacles up his sharp bone of a nose, not that they would stay there. If Hodgson was to remark on his pallor, he would also have to acknowledge how rarely the Southouse visage was exposed to sunlight. He was either in this dingy office, the back of a hack, or shut up in the law courts.
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