Sir Harry Burrard banged the table with his fist. ‘You’ve hit upon it, Chris! That was the crowning blunder of them all, and well do I remember the Great Commoner’s attack upon the Government at the time, when he thundered “You have ransacked every corner of Lower Saxony, but forty thousand German boors never can conquer ten times that number of British freemen.” And he was right.’
‘Yet, ‘twas Lord Chatham himself who two years later opposed the Duke of Richmond’s motion to withdraw all forces by sea and land from the revolted provinces,’ countered Mr. Gibbon.
‘I grant you that, Sir, and I well remember that occasion, too, since ‘twas my Lord Chatham’s dying speech and he collapsed but a half hour later. I was again in the Lords gallery at the time, and although it is all of five years ago I recall his words as well as if he’d spoke them yesterday. “Shall we,” he asked, “tarnish the lustre of this nation by an ignominious surrender of its rights and fairest possessions? Shall a people that fifteen years ago was the terror of the world now stoop so low as to tell its ancient, inveterate enemy—take all we have, only give us peace.” But remember, Sir, he spoke them in a very different case. The French were about to intervene on behalf of General Washington and the thought of a European conflict being added to our woes had caused something near to panic. Lord Chatham would have supported my Lord North in making any terms with the Americans, short of giving them their independence, since to do so at that juncture would only have laid us open to other so-called “positively last demands” by the French. How could he, to whose leadership we owed our splendid victories over them in the Seven Years’ War, refrain from rising, even from a bed of death, to protest against such ignominious folly?’
‘Yet his Grace of Richmond had wisdom on his side,’ argued Mr. Eddie. ‘The extension of the war in ‘seventy-eight compelled us to evacuate Philadelphia in order to protect New York and defend the Indies from the French; and our case became even worse when the Spaniards, too, came in against us in ‘seventy-nine.’
‘ ’Twas worse still in ‘eighty,’ added General Cleveland, ‘when our blockade had maddened the Russians, Swedes, Prussians, Danes and Austrians into a common policy of armed neutrality against us, and the Dutch added themselves to our active enemies.’
‘Nay, General,’ Captain Brook took him up quickly, ‘I pray you say nothing against the blockade. ’Tis England’s greatest weapon. With it we’ve many times brought the Continent to reason and under Providence will do so many times again.’
The old General grunted. ‘Let us pray then that should such a case arise we’ll have no major conflict raging overseas. Since, saving your presence, Captain, ‘twas bad naval strategy and naught else that lost us our fairest possessions in America.’
‘That I contest, Sir, and, saving yours, I count the Army more to blame. On no less than four occasions our Generals bungled badly. At the very outset of the war General Gage locked himself up in Boston for eleven months instead of engaging the Colonists before they could become organised. Then in ‘seventy-six, had they been active, Generals Howe and Cornwallis could have crushed Washington between them but they frittered away their opportunity. In both ‘seventy-seven and ‘eighty-one, had two large British forces not dallied but made their junction on the Hudson, as was intended, they could have cut off the North from the South and so still preserved the Southern Colonies to the Crown. Yet, as we know, their dilatoriness resulted, in the first case, in General Burgoyne being trapped and compelled to surrender at Saratoga and, in the second, in General Cornwallis laying down his arms at Yorktown, and with them our last hope of victory. Had we had a Commander of General Washington’s quality on our side I am convinced that the conflict would have ended very differently.’
‘I admit that there was some misdirection in the early stages,’ the General agreed, ‘but Cornwallis out-generalled and defeated Washington on numerous occasions; and you have ill-served your case by referring to the surrender that was forced upon him. He deployed his Army in the York-town peninsula for the sound purpose of being able readily to reinforce New York. Had the British Fleet not dallied in the Indies, no French battle squadron could have occupied Chesapeake Bay, and enabled Washington’s Army to achieve a junction with General Lafayette by landing on the neck of the peninsula.’
The Fleet cannot be everywhere at once, Sir,’ protested the Captain.
‘No, Sir,’ the General rapped back, ‘but it should be at the right place at the right time; and its first duty in war is to protect the lines of communication of the Army.’
‘Would you have had us then let the French have the Indies for the taking and leave the shores of Britain unprotected? We had to contend with the fleets of no less than four enemy powers, remember, and in that year we both hammered the Dutch off the Dogger Bank and relieved General Elliot at Gibraltar.’
‘God forbid that I should impugn the Navy’s gallantry, Captain. I contend only that its strategy was ill-designed. Our Admirals followed a policy of dealing with local attacks as and when they occurred instead of seeking out the enemy fleets to destroy them, and the dispersion of our sea forces proved our undoing.’
‘I am with General Cleveland in that,’ declared Mr. Gibbon. ‘Our Army made no great showing, yet it would not have been reduced to asking for terms had not the Navy failed it at a critical time. Nevertheless our host’s excuse is valid, in that our preoccupation in Europe and particularly with Gibraltar, were given first place by the Government. It has been very truly said that “to save a rock we lost a continent”, but no blame for that can be laid to either service.’
Mr. Gibbon’s diplomatic summary saved the faces of both protagonists. The tension eased and the Captain laughed. ‘I am well content to leave it at that; and at least we can all agree that Lord Rodney’s victory at the Saints, by restoring our supremacy at sea, enabled us to make none too bad a peace.’
‘Indeed, without it, we would have been hard put to it to obtain terms at all,’ said Sam Oviatt. ‘As it is we have come off monstrous well. The loss of the Colonies is a thing apart, but giving up St. Lucia, Tobago and Goree to France, and Minorca and Florida to Spain, is little enough to pay for the consolidation of our position in Canada and India and all our other gains.’
‘For that a good share of thanks are due to Lord Shelburne’s fine diplomacy,’ remarked Sir Harry.
Captain Brook turned quickly to him. ‘Yet he was forced from office after only a few months, and when I was in London I heard it said that the Coalition is far from secure.’
‘Its fall at any time would not surprise me,’ Sir Harry answered. ‘The King is still determined to rule the roost. After twelve years of virtual dictatorship, through Lord North, he can hardly be resigned to allowing power to slip from his grasp; and, since the country demanded North’s dismissal the fleeting Ministries of the past seventeen months have been little more than experiments. The Marquess of Rockingham’s death last summer alone made way for Shelburne, whom the King neither liked or trusted, and he likes the Coalition even less. He shares the national disgust at his old minister having entered into this unnatural partnership with the man who has been his bitterest critic for so many years and will, I am convinced, have them both out of office as soon as a suitable pretext presents itself. His real problem is to find a man malleable to his own interest who will yet prove of sufficient stature to dominate the House. ’Tis reported that with this in mind he even offered young Billy Pitt the Treasury before reconciling himself to accepting Mr. Fox. That Pitt refused the offer is to his credit. At least he had the sense to see that the House would give short shrift to anyone so lacking in experience.’
‘I consider it more likely that it was not lack of self-confidence but astuteness that caused Pitt to reject office for a time,’ remarked Mr. Gibbon. ‘From all I have seen of him he shows exceptional promise. His grasp of business is at times uncanny for one of his years, his repartee is scathing and his oratory is superb.’
Sir Harry nodded. ‘
He speaks monstrous well, I grant you, and in that he is my Lord Chatham’s son without a doubt. I recall his maiden speech when he first took his seat in the House at the age of twenty-one. One of our oldest members said of it “There was not a word or a gesture that one would have sought to correct” and Mr. Burke, seated nearby me remarked, “He is not a chip of the old block, but the old block itself.”’
Then, should we be forced to take up arms against the French, may he play as glorious a part as did his great father,’ said Captain Brook. ‘But come, gentlemen, ’tis time we joined the ladies.’
They had been sitting over their wine for the best part of an hour and a half, so it was now close on half-past eight and dusk was falling. Squire Robbins and Harry Darby, who were a little unsteady on their pins, excused themselves, but the others trooped into Lady Marie’s cool green and white drawing-room, where the conversation took a lighter tone and local gossip was mingled with talk of charities and entertainments.
Soon after nine, Mrs. Sutherland declared for home, and her leaving was the signal for the breaking up of the party. The Sutherlands walked back across the meadow to their house up in the High Street, and the Vicar went with them, while old Ben, now flushed from his exertions as host these past two hours to a dozen visiting servants in the kitchen, summoned the carriages and horses of their masters. Invitations were poured upon the Brooks from all sides, then with a cheerful shouting of good-byes, their guests drove or rode away.
By a quarter to ten, father, mother and son were at last alone and reassembled in Lady Marie’s drawing-room.
‘It’s been a great homecoming, Chris,’ she smiled, ‘and you can see now how your friends have missed you.’
The Captain swayed slightly on his feet. He was not drunk but his long years at sea had left him out of training for such heavy drinking, and he had had a little more than he could carry comfortably. He was smiling broadly, and declared with a laugh:
The best is yet to come, m’dear. I’ve two fine surprises for you.’
‘Oh, tell us, do,’ she leaned eagerly forward in her chair, and Roger added his urging.
‘You’d never guess,’ the Captain grinned. ‘’Tis far more than I hoped for, as I thought myself forgot after my long absence from home, and I said nothing of it to the company as it may be a month or more before it appears in the Gazette. But I’m to fly my flag. Their Lordships have made me a Rear-Admiral.’
‘Chris! Is it really true? Oh, how prodigious fine!’ Lady Marie jumped up and kissed him on his flushed cheek.
‘Hurrah!’ cried Roger. Three cheers for Admiral Brook! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!’
Not wishing to make a fool of himself he had gone as carefully as he could with the wine, but having been granted the status of a man, he had also not liked to appear less than one by passing the port untouched too frequently. So he, too, had had as much as he could carry, as was evident from his flushed face and unnaturally bright eyes.
‘But you said you had two surprises for us,’ Lady Marie went on. ‘I can scarce bear the suspense to hear the other. Is it that they’ve given you a ship of ninety-eight guns to fly your flag in?’
‘Nay,’ replied the Captain. ‘’Tis something that I value more. With me I brought despatches from the Indies and the First Lord did me the honour to instruct me to lay them personally before His Majesty.’
‘What! You actually talked with the King?’ exclaimed Roger.
His father put an arm affectionately round the boy’s shoulders. ‘Aye, lad, and he was mighty civil to me; so I took the bull by the horns and went in to the attack. I asked him for a commission for you, and, praise God, he was graciously pleased to grant it to me there and then.’
The blood drained from Roger’s face. In the excitement of the last few hours he had temporarily forgotten his own anxiety, and the bomb now exploded beneath his feet with startling suddenness.
Lady Marie too, paled a little, but for a different reason. She knew that Roger was averse to the sea as a career, but thought his attitude no more than the unreasoning prejudice of a boy, that could soon be overcome; and her husband’s wishes were to her the law. Yet Roger was her only child and she was most loath to part with him at such an early age and see him in future only at long intervals.
‘So Roger will not be returning to Sherborne next term?’ she said slowly.
The Captain gave him a hearty slap on the back. ‘Nay. His school days are over, and he’ll be posted as a midshipman on the recommissioning of one of our ships now in dock within the next month or two. Well, Roger, hast thou naught to say?’
‘Indeed, I’m very grateful, Sir—both to you and to His Majesty,’ Roger managed to stammer.
Captain Brook’s perceptions were too blunted by the wine he had consumed to note the lack of enthusiasm in Roger’s tone, and he hurried on: ‘Next week we’ll go into Portsmouth and see to the ordering of your kit. You’ll cut a brave figure in a uniform and all the gels will be casting sheep’s eyes at you.’ He converted a mild belch into a yawn. ‘But enough for now. Tis time we sought our beds. Strap me! but it’s good to be home again and see to the locking-up of one’s own home for the night.’
‘I’d best come with you, Sir,’ Roger volunteered. ‘A new door has been made to the still-room, since you went away, and ’tis concealed behind a curtain.’
Lady Marie led the way out into the spacious hall and, turning, kissed Roger good-night at the foot of the white-painted, semi-circular staircase, then father and son made the round of the ground floor, fastening the shutters, putting up chains and shooting bolts.
As Roger followed his father from room to room, his mind was in a turmoil. The wine and the shock he had sustained had now combined to bemuse his brain and make him feel that he wanted to be sick. On the news of the Captain’s return that morning he had thought that at worst he would have several months in which to wage a campaign of resistance against any renewal of the project to send him to sea. His father was both good-natured and affectionate, so by waiting for such times as he was in his most calm and responsive moods it might have been possible to argue him out of it. But the time for seizing such opportunities had now been cut from beneath Roger’s feet.
He saw himself within the next few weeks being shipped off like a victim of the press-gangs to a life of slavery in the hideous discomfort inseparable from serving in a man-o’-war. Midshipmen were then treated little better than the sailors before the mast and worked to the limit of their endurance. They took watch for watch and were sent aloft with the hands to help furl the sails, under the blistering tropic sun or in the icy, blinding rain of the worst tempests. The common seamen at least had leisure to yarn, carve models, or laze about in their off-duty hours, but not so the midshipmen, who, in the intervals of scrubbing decks, cleaning brass fitments and hauling on great tarry ropes were herded into the ship’s schoolroom to receive instruction in navigation, gunnery, trigonometry and ship’s management. Their fare was a rarely varied diet of salt pork and hard biscuits washed down with unsweetened lime juice to prevent scurvy; their quarters a single low cabin in which there were constant comings and goings, their sleep limited to three and three-quarter hours at any one time before they were roughly woken to roll out of their dirty blankets and scamper up the ladders for the muster of a new duty-watch on deck. They were kept on the run from morning to night and for half the night semi-frozen while acting as look-outs in the crow’s nest high above the ship. Their title of ‘Mister’ was a mockery; the officers were as far above them as the gods and it was considered that the harder the tasks they were given the better officers they would make later on. Bugle calls and the ship’s bell ruled their every hour; they had no privacy or recreations and were bullied unmercifully.
Knowing all this Roger was engulfed in a black wave of despair, yet felt that he would rather die than submit to such a fate. Blindly he followed his father’s unsteady footsteps from room to room, seeking a way out but finding none. His alcohol-laden brain refused
to work although it was seething with revolt. At length they reached the conservatory on the west side of the house. A dim light filtering through from the hall was enough to show the glass double-doors leading out to the orchard, but it was now pitch dark outside. Admiral Brook had walked forward to lock the door, when Roger suddenly exclaimed in a choking voice:
‘Sir, may I speak with you for a moment?’
‘Yes. What is it, Roger?’ the Admiral flung cheerfully over his shoulder.
‘This Commission, Sir, I’ve no wish for it.’
‘What’s that!’ The Admiral swung round and peered at him in the uncertain light. ‘What didst thou say? Surely I can’t have heard aright?’
Only his half-drunken state had given Roger the courage to take the plunge but, having taken it, he hurried on. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Sir, seeing you’re so set on it, but I don’t want to take up this Commission.’
‘In God’s name, why?’ gasped the Admiral in blank astonishment.
‘I—I’ve a dozen reasons, Sir,’ Roger stammered now. ‘I don’t want to go to sea. I—I…’
‘You’re drunk, boy,’ exclaimed his father, sharply. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying. Get to bed this minute.’
‘I’m not drunk, Sir,’ Roger protested. ‘At least, not so drunk as all that. I made up my mind years ago. I’d hate the life, I swear I would. I pray you don’t force me to it.’
‘So this is what an expensive schooling has done for you!’ His father was angry now. ‘Or is it lack of discipline because I’ve been so long from home? How dare you question my decisions. I know what’s best for you. Get to bed now and let’s hear no more of this.’
‘Please!’ Roger begged. ‘Please! You must remember your own days as a midshipman. You’ve often told me how they worked you until you were often almost asleep on your feet. And of the cold and the storms and the bullying.’
The Launching of Roger Brook Page 5