Distant Gunfire

by David O'Neil

  “You are ordered to the command of the frigate HMS Roister, ex Le Vent, that has been bought into the service currently lying under repair at Plymouth. You are ordered to assume command on the first of the month, in ten days time. Do you have any requests for officers who may be available? I can tell you that newly promoted lieutenant The Hon David Ogilvie has been suggested as junior; though it is up to you whether you accept him or not.”

  Robert stood stunned for the moment; the civilian looked at him with the question hanging in the air.

  “I would like Lieutenant Beaufort-Robinson for my senior and I would be happy to accept Lieutenant Ogilvie as junior.”

  “Good, you will of course choose whosoever you wish for second, and other normal appointments.

  “Now….” He held up his hand to indicate he was not finished. “I note that you are likely to receive considerable prize monies for the purchase of the corvette Le Vent and the hull, and cargo, of the Coromandel.” His eyebrows rose as he noted the estimated sum. “I suggest, only suggest mind you, that you place the handling of you funds in the charge of a reputable prize agent. As a frigate captain prize monies seem to accrue on occasion and it would be to your advantage to have a trustworthy agent to act for you. I believe these gentlemen will agree that Cox’s have a reputation for fair dealing.” He hesitated and both Nelson and Pellew nodded agreement, “But the decision is yours. That is all.” He closed the book in front of him and stood.

  “I would be honoured to shake your hand sir; you are a credit to the service!” He held out his hand, Robert surprised and touched took it and shook gladly. Both Nelson and Pellew added their congratulations; Nelson said quietly. “Good luck, I’ll look forward to seeing you again.” He passed a package to the new Post-Captain. “You will need this!” He said with a smile.

  Chapter seven

  At the Cock Inn, after a wash and shave and a change of linen, Robert dined early with his new first lieutenant. The atmosphere at the meal was restrained as both men had much to think about.

  It was Robert who eventually broke the silence when he said thoughtfully, “You’ll need to take over the supervision of the refitting of the ship as soon as possible.”

  “If I may, sir, I will leave on the morning mail for Plymouth to take up my duties, I understand that the Le Vent took a certain amount of damage and I would like to ensure she is put together properly.” Despite the casual manner Robert was well aware of the professionalism of his new first lieutenant and pleased that he was taking his new post seriously.

  He looked at his companion keenly, “No socialising with your society friends this evening then?”

  “Oh, we are expected at my aunt’s soiree at nine. I must attend; the Countess has made me her heir. Besides she is one of the few relatives I have that I actually like. She insisted on meeting the gallant Captain Graham; I will have to attend to introduce you.” He brightened, “With luck, ‘Bootface’ will be there. My sister Barbara,” he explained hastily as Robert looked at him blankly. He rushed on. “You may not remember, she came to see me off when I joined Argonaut, where we first met?”

  Robert repeated, “Bootface?”

  Billy looked expectantly at Robert, who vaguely remembered a skinny blond girl; the one who had insisted on joining the boat taking the two new young midshipmen out to the second rate to begin their career in the navy.

  Distracted, he nodded vaguely, “I think I remember; well, in that case we had better make a move.” He said changing the subject. “My uniform should be pressed by now.”

  They rose and returned to Robert’s chamber where his newly sponged and pressed dress uniform hung complete with the single epaulette on the right shoulder denoting his rank as Post Captain. When he had opened the package given him by Nelson he had found the single epaulette within, the note simply said, ‘Wear it with pride’ it was signed by both Nelson and Pellew.

  At 27 years he would not be the youngest to achieve the rank, but it was not a regular occurrence at his age.

  The carriage stopped outside the pillared front portico of the gracious house in Aldwych, servants waited at the door to help the visitors with their coats and cloaks. Inside the guests were received by Billy’s aunt dressed in a plain grey dress elegantly cut to show off her still trim figure to perfection.

  The Countess, Dorothy Beaufort-Robinson was a lady of middle years, perhaps fifty, perhaps sixty; her rather narrow face appeared flawless, rather like the Dresden figurines that were becoming popular at the time. Her autocratic appearance was belied by the broad smile as she greeted her nephew with a kiss, and turned to greet his friend.

  “Captain Graham, how kind of you to make the time to come and call upon us,” she held out her hand to him and he bent to brush it with his lips. As he straightened he saw the woman standing next to the Countess. She was wearing a dark blue gown that showed off her figure, tall with a smooth healthy skin, she was looking at him directly, her blue eyes smiling slightly as she observed the effect she was having on him. Robert found he was still gripping the Countess’s hand and with a mumbled apology he released it.

  The Countess laughed gently and turned to the blue-eyed lady, and taking her hand drew her round to face Robert. “Allow me to introduce Lady Beaufort. Barbara, this is Captain Robert Graham, your brother’s new Commanding Officer.” Lady Barbara dropped a small curtsey, then stood and held out her hand and shook Robert’s hand like a man.

  “We have heard a lot about you over the last few days, Captain, I expected you to be two feet taller, at least.” Her tone was mocking but not unkind.

  His reply was also mocking, “I have been hearing about you also, and I am happy to say the description I was given was equally inaccurate.”

  The Countess looked from one to the other and with a smile, taking her nephew’s arm took him away to talk to the other guests.

  “We appear to be abandoned!” Robert said “May I help you to something?” He waved vaguely at the buffet. He felt a strange excitement, a thrill on meeting this beautiful woman, a feeling of expectation almost.

  “I don’t think so,” Barbara smiled. “Would you like to see the garden? It is at its most beautiful at this time of year.” She took his arm as they went out through the open doors into the summer twilight. The servants were lighting the lanterns scattered around the formal lawns and hedges of the garden, casting bars of light and shadow along the pleasant walks.

  “Please tell me about the taking of the Le Vent?” she asked keenly. “We read the Gazette but it gave a very impersonal picture of what happened.”

  Robert thought for a moment. “A battle of any sort is not for a Lady, the actual events would be most disturbing for a person of gentle upbringing to hear.”

  “Oh, stuff and nonsense! Billy and I both had the same upbringing and he can listen without coming to harm, and take part even. Because I’m a woman I must not be told the truth about the events that involve a brother or perhaps a husband?”

  Robert looked at her with amused surprise. “I have just realised why your brother described you as he did.”

  She blushed “He called me Bootface, didn’t he!”

  He nodded. “But with great affection, and I now know it was no reflection on your appearance rather his recognition of you as an equal, a compliment I heartily endorse.”

  She looked discomforted but squeezed his arm, and he proceeded to paint a picture in words of the bloody scene on the decks of the two warships as the action occurred. She listened without a sound until he finished, by now they were seated on a bench on the terrace.

  Their conversation become more personal as each retailed memories of their younger days, the times of youth in the country. For Barbara it was in the great rambling house surrounded by parkland. For Robert the squire’s Manor house in the village where his father had exerted a firm hand and insisted on his being educated; not so firm as to prevent him getting up to mischief with the other boys of the village.

  Too soon the evening dre
w to an end, though not before the Countess had obtained his promise to call upon her the following day, and Barbara had agreed to go riding in the morning.

  The two young men returned to the inn in high good humour.

  The Plymouth Mail left at 9.00am and Robert made sure to be in time to see his first lieutenant off. As they shook hands at parting, both knew that the easy, happy go lucky friendship they had enjoyed up to now would have to change; both accepted it was necessary but were saddened nonetheless.

  Robert was not required to report to the Admiralty for seven more days and he used the time to his advantage. Having called on the prize agents, Coxes, as suggested, he was pleasantly surprised to discover he was a rich man. His captain’s share of the two prizes would gain him close to £25,000, a huge sum. He invested £750.00 of the money in a house in Knightsbridge.

  The popular village was growing rapidly around the barracks of the Foot Guards. He was able to move into his residence with the assistance of Barbara, who was happy to supply sufficient furniture from her aunt’s house to allow him to live.

  Thereafter, once again together, she helped select suitable furnishings for the permanent furnishing of the house. He invested in a cook/housekeeper and a manservant, to look after him, and to maintain the place in his absence.

  He found Barbara’s company exciting and the relationship between them unusual in that in addition to her desirability as a woman, her friendship was on a level normally he had only found on a man to man basis. They were able to discuss any subject and Barbara was well able to hold her own in many areas regarded as the province of men only.

  Robert managed to see Barbara most days, and was happy to know that the Countess approved of their friendship. By the last day of his sojourn in London having received his orders from the Admiralty he called upon the Countess to thank her for her kindness and hospitality during his stay.

  She was very sad at his departure and apologised for the absence of Barbara who had gone out early to Bond Street, for some urgent reason.

  Disappointed and rather hurt, Robert returned to the Cock Inn to collect his belongings for the journey to Plymouth, to take up his new command. It was whilst he was finally checking his room to see that all his things were packed, that the maid announced with a smirk, a lady visitor.

  Surprised he turned to find Barbara standing in the doorway. The maid left still smirking. Waiting until the maid left the room, Barbara stepped forward and put her arms round Robert’s neck and kissed him firmly, if a little inexpertly on the lips. Getting over his surprise Robert warmly returned the favour. They parted, flushed and smiling, though there were tears in Barbara’s eyes as she said.

  “Oh I am sorry; I’m so glad I caught you. I should not have attacked you in that way.”

  With great daring Robert replied. “On the contrary, I cannot think of a better way to greet or say farewell to a future husband.” As the words came out Robert was appalled at his own temerity, he could not believe he had revealed his thoughts in such bald terms. What would she think? But one look at the radiant face in front of him gave the answer. Once more she came into his willing arms and kissed him.

  “Oh Robert, do you really mean it?”

  “If you will have me, I certainly do. I will call upon your father as soon as I can.”

  “My aunt will be returning to Exeter next week, I know she will approve. Please find time to call before you sail, Plymouth is not too far from our estate.”

  “Depend on it, somehow I will manage to present myself during the next month. I am not due to sail until the 5th July.” Outside the yard clock chimed. “Damn! Now I really must go. My post coach is here.”

  As they kissed once more she realised that the package she had brought was still in her reticule. “I nearly forgot! The reason I was late.” She drew out a small packet and gave it to him. “Open it when you are on your way and think of me.”

  He tucked the packet in his pocket and left, clattering down the stairs to the waiting coach. She followed and stood waving as the coach departed, the coachman blowing his Post Horn to clear the way.

  He remembered the packet when they passed through Kew, and opened the seal. Inside there was a small box, containing a gold hunter watch and chain and a letter from Barbara. He examined the watch, opening the front case, inside the lid was engraved the simple message.

  Robert, ‘God keep you safe’ Barbara. The letter was also short and to the point,

  Dear Robert,

  I have been waiting, hoping to find someone to whom I could relate as an equal, not just as a lover, but as a friend also; my feelings for you became apparent to me the night we met at my aunt’s house. I have felt us grow closer together daily since then, and I think that you feel the way I do.

  I know you will be away from me for a long time, but I wish you to know that I will await your return impatiently.

  If I am making a fool of myself so be it, I am confident that these words will go no further. If I am correct and you love me as I love you, I will look forward to seeing you before you depart for your duties overseas.

  Yours, Barbara

  Robert put the letter in his inside pocket. Thank God he had spoken to her before he left; at least she now knew he felt the same way as she did. With a glad heart he settled back in the coach to rest as much as possible during the long journey to Plymouth.

  The hull of the frigate HMS Roister was looking clean, with her new copper reflecting the sun. She stood in her stocks in the dockyard at Plymouth, new timbers looking raw against the weathered paintwork of the undamaged sections of the bulwarks, new ‘steps’ had been placed in the keelson, ready for the installation of the masts when she was re-floated.

  Lieutenant Beaufort reported to Robert that the ship would be ready for launch in two days; the stores were already being assembled. Robert had contributed to the paint for the hull plus gold leaf for the escutcheon for her name on the stern; it would not do to skimp on these things.

  A second lieutenant had been found. Lieutenant Martin Walker, a former member of an ill fated mapping expedition captured by Barbary pirates. He had been rescued from slavery after five years captivity when the galley he was serving in had been taken off Tunis, the action in which Billy Beaufort was wounded causing his return to England.

  Robert was aware that Walker was an excellent navigator but likely doomed to spend the rest of his service on the beach. He had been in the hands of the pirates for five years before his rescue and for some reason this seemed to prejudice his obtaining another post.

  He had presented himself at the Angel Inn where Robert was staying whilst the ship was being refitted. He did not beg nor cajole. He came to Robert as he sat in the lounge before leaving for the dockyard, and asked for a position in the ship. Though he held rank as a lieutenant he would accept to sail as master’s mate if there was no place for his rank. Robert had been thinking of possible candidates for the post. He had considered John Mathews who was, at present, in his first appointment, preparing to go to sea in the HMS Witch as third lieutenant under the newly promoted Commander Archer; so when Robert met Martin Walker he studied him keenly and decided he liked the look of the big man, who stood at least six feet six. He had to stoop slightly because of the low ceiling. His uniform was worn and fraying round the cuffs, but it was clean and pressed. When asked the question, he answered directly, detailing his experience prior to and during his capture by the pirates. He also explained that the Admiralty had been unable—or unwilling—to place him during the past lull in naval activity, and that he wished to get back to sea, where he belonged.

  Robert looked keenly at him, “How old are you?”

  “Thirty one years, sir.” Walker replied.

  “Married?”

  “I was, sir, but it was annulled in my absence, I was reported dead and she remarried as a court-declared widow. She and her husband look after my son along with their own two girls.”

  “How old is your son?” Robert was curious.
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  “He will be ten years old in September, sir.”

  Robert thought for a minute, there was no doubt in his mind, Walker knew his business and had a good knowledge of the Mediterranean, and their orders were for Gibraltar.

  “Come back this evening,” Robert said. “I will be dining with the first lieutenant, Billy Beaufort-Robinson. Join us as my guest; I believe you have found a berth.”

  Walker bowed, “I would be delighted, sir. Thank you.” and he left leaving Robert trying to remember where he had heard of Walker in the past.

  That evening the three officers dined on the beef pie for which the inn was famous, and during the meal it was formally agreed that Walker would fill the vacant position of second lieutenant, thus completing the allotment of officers for the frigate. He agreed to report the next morning to take up his duties. The business over, the three men enjoyed the rest of the evening over three more bottles of red wine, telling yarns of their past service under various captains.

  Whilst they were reviving old memories Robert noticed a man watching the three officers as they enjoyed the evening. The man was tall and dark haired, Robert had noticed him as he had entered the room. There was something about him that was familiar and the watchful way he had come in studying the clientele as he sat down hinted at something secretive in his manner.

  He spoke to Walker. “Martin, the tall dark man seated by the window, do you know him?”

  Martin looked discreetly and sat back with a wry grin. “We are drinking brandy supplied by his men. He is the most notorious smuggler on the Devon coast. Named Peter Tregarth, hails from Looe, in Cornwall, and is as crafty as a shipload of monkeys. For years he used to travel the countryside with a peddler’s cart. Sharpening knives, mending pots, and discovering who and what could be found in the West Country. His father was a fisherman based in Looe.