In Dangerous Company: The Dorset Boy Book 4
Page 16
Chapter 20 Manning and Arming Up
“I think he likes you,” Tom observed as the mounted up and rode back towards London. “but how does he know so much about the ship an’ all.”
“Fletcher has fingers in many pies, just like my dear wife, and just like my wife likes to think he is cleverer than the rest of us. I saw one of his men hanging around the dock two days ago.”
“Does he keep an eye on you in particular?” Tom asked obviously concerned
“No, I think he was watching the ship, sensing a business opportunity probably.” Marty reassured him.
They got back to London in good time even though it started to snow. The horses were happy to get back to their stables in the muse and the two men stamped their way into the house through the back door. Marty froze as he heard shouting. He pulled out his barkers from his coat pockets checked the priming was dry and moved forward. He heard a double click from behind and to his left and knew Tom had his back.
There was a crash and Marty resisted the temptation to run. He continued moving forward deliberately. They got to the hallway and the front door was open, the lock broken. The noise was coming from the drawing room. He moved up to the door taking position on the side with the handle and Tom positioned himself to the hinge side.
He reached out turned the knob and pushed the door off the latch, counted down from three to one, shoved it open, took a step through and dropped to a knee. Tom was stood behind him and had a clear field of fire over Marty’s head. Caroline was in the opposite corner holding a vase, ready to throw it at two ruffians who had their backs to Marty and Tom. She was screaming and cursing like a fish wife so the two never heard the door open.
Marty put his pistols on the floor and drew his knife, he stepped up to the first of the men and hit him hard on the back of the head with the hilt. Then he kicked out to the side hitting the other man in the side of the left knee wrecking it. As he collapsed, he stepped in stamped out with his boot hitting him in the side of the head.
There was a shout from outside and then Blaez came through the door teeth bared and proceeded to savage the one Marty had clubbed. Marty gentled him and then went and took Caroline in his arms.
“They waited till Hanson (the butler) took Blaez out for a walk, then broke the lock on the door and came in demanding my jewels.” Caroline sobbed. She looked down at one her now prone assailants, stepped away from Marty and kicked one three or four times in the ribs.
Marty looked at the broken crockery on the floor and identified a couple of really expensive vases. He couldn’t help wondering if it would have been cheaper to give then a couple of rings.
Someone had gone out and fetched a Bow Street Runner and the constable turned up, took one look at the two, now semi-conscious, but groggy, men and said.
“Tim Standing and Peter Butcher, both known to us. The judge warned them Newgate wouldn’t be their destination next time they got caught. This time they will hang.” Marty had no sympathy, both men were obviously habitual criminals and knew the risk they were taking.
The next morning Tom went out and found a carpenter who would build them a new door at short notice and a locksmith that could fit a reliable lock. In the meantime, he and Marty fixed large deadbolts to keep the door closed. Another constable came and took detailed statements, which they signed, and informed them they didn’t need to attend the court which would be held the next morning. Justice would be quick and final.
Marty turned his attention to the security of the house. There were only two men on the staff, the butler and a coachman the rest were all women including the two servants that had come back from India with them. One of which was now walking out with Tom. He contacted an agency and asked them to send him candidates for a pair of footmen. He specified ex-military men who were married.
Five were sent and Marty selected three to be interviewed by Caroline. Two were ex-Army and the third ex-Navy, all three could look after themselves and handle weapons. The interviews complete, Caroline expressed a preference for the Navy man and the older of the two Army men. Frederick Cooper and Arthur Standish plus wives joined the Stockley household.
Marty took both men shopping, man style. He took them to a gunsmith and had them select pistols for themselves. Then he visited a backstreet shop that he knew and bought blackjacks and short clubs. Last they visited his tailor and had them measured for the house livery with special pockets for the pistols and a long pocket in the trousers for the clubs.
All that done he was able to turn his attention back to The Tempest. He had two complete sets of sails being made and once the Larks and Marines arrived, they would start replacing the old worn rigging, but first he knew she needed her bottom cleaned and inspected. She probably needed new copper and her deck needed strengthening to take the bigger guns.
He negotiated with a commercial shipyard on the Thames to put her into drydock and, luckily, that time of year they had several empty bays and were grateful for the work. They had her towed over to the yard and into the dock at high tide. A set of lock gates were closed across the entrance and as the tide ran out the water in the dock was allowed to run away through a sluice. The Sluice was then closed leaving the ship high and dry on wooden stocks.
The weed and barnacles were scraped and burnt off and she was inspected. For a ship of her age she wasn’t in too bad condition. A couple of copper sheets had thinned and had holes in, and there were a couple of soft planks that needed to be replaced, but all in all she was in good shape. Marty dug into his own pocket and had all the copper replaced as the budget given to the S.O.F. wouldn’t stretch to that. He considered that a good investment, and he would get his money back with interest.
By luck the Larks arrived while she was in dock and got to work replacing the rigging and any blocks that were worn out. Marty, Tom and Wilson went out recruiting. The Navy would man the tempest with one hundred and fifty men and officers but as a privateer Marty wanted at least two hundred or even two hundred and fifty eventually, but for now, he would settle for one hundred and fifty and look for the rest when he got to the other side of the Atlantic.
He had sixty men from the Lark and S.O.F and was letting it be known that they were recruiting for a ‘private’ venture. Marty wanted seasoned hands, he didn’t care what country they came from or what their background outside of sailing was.
After she was back in the water, they opened the recruitment proper and a steady stream of men started to show up at the gangplank. James and Tom set up a desk on the dock and interviewed them. Tom played his part well, he was acting as the first mate because of his age and James as second mate. James took the inversion in their ranks in his stride, he had always respected Tom as Marty’s Cox.
The applicants ranged from experienced seamen, some who had probably run from the Navy, to the desperate who just wanted to try and escape their wretched lives.
Marty soon realised they needed a surgeon or physician to check the health of the potential new recruits, so he went to talk to their family doctor. He didn’t say much when Marty told him he was looking for someone for a long sea voyage, just wrote a name and an address on a paper and handed it to him. He had a sad look about him when he did it which puzzled Marty.
The address was a town house in a muse that was reasonably well to do. Marty knocked at the door and it was opened by a maid who ushered him in when he asked to see Mr Shelby. He was shown into what, was obviously, a consulting room, so he sat and waited. Ten minutes later Shelby walked in, he was around thirty years old with brown hair tending to grey, a sallow complexion, piercing blue eyes that had a haunted look and was as thin as a rake.
“What can I do for you Mr …?” He asked looking Marty up and down.
“Martin Stanwell, I was given your name by a mutual friend.”
“Were you.” he said flatly. “Sent here to help me no doubt.”
“Not to help you, but to offer you a position and the chance to escape this dreary town for sunnier climes,” Mar
ty replied.
Shelby looked at him quizzically.
“And who sent you to me to offer that?” he asked.
“He asked that he remains incognito, but he was very sure you would be interested.”
“Well you have my attention. What is your offer?”
“I am setting up an expedition to the Caribbean and my ship is in need of a physician, someone who know about the fevers and diseases of the Islands and who can do more than just chop off limbs. Someone who can keep my crew healthy,” Marty explained.
“There will be combat?” Shelby asked.
“Probably,” Marty replied.
Shelby started to walk up and down muttering softly to himself.
“When do you need me to start?” he asked.
“Well if you aren’t doing anything urgent, I would say straight away, I am recruiting my crew and want to have them checked out.”
Shelby stopped pacing and looked Marty in the eyes.
“You don’t want to know why I would accept such a post?”
“Frankly I don’t care as long as you are sober, care for my men and are professional.” Marty stated emphatically. “I don’t want to lose them to disease or wounds unnecessarily.”
“One last question. Why is Lord Candor working under a nom de plume and setting up a privateer, when he is known to be in the Navy.”
Marty grinned at him.
“When we are at sea and away from prying eyes and ears, I will tell you, but I will want your oath now that you will not share that observation with anyone. Even if you don’t take the post.”
Shelby looked at the earnest young man sat in front of him and sensed his passion, what he had heard Nelson call zeal.
“You have my word on that,” he held his hand up to forestall any comment from Marty. “I have my own reasons for joining, which, for now, will remain my own and your mission, whatever it is, intrigues me. Now my fee?”
“You will get a retainer of twenty guineas a year, plus you can charge the crew for special treatments such as the clap and you get a share of any prize money. I will pay to stock your drugs cabinet and for any special instruments or tools you need.” Marty explained.
Shelby took a deep breath and let it out slowly and then held out his hand.
“My thanks to whoever gave you my name and I accept the position. Where can I join your ship?”
Marty returned to The Tempest and reviewed his list of officers and warrants. He had Tom as First Mate, James as Second, Shelby as surgeon. He wasn’t sure what position to give Paul as they officially didn’t have marines onboard, but Master at Arms sounded good. The marine, Sheldon, who had admitted to having been a clerk in a former life was made ‘purser’ to help Marty with provisioning. John Smith stayed as Quartermaster. Wilson was made Bosun. He needed a carpenter, sailmaker and a sailing master.
He got a surprise when Harbrook from the Tool Shed turned up and gave him a box of timers.
“The boss said you could use these,” he told Marty as he handed them over. He looked around the ship and asked.
“Is yer going privateering?”
Marty thanked him then replied.
“Yes, we are going pirate hunting as well.”
“You will want to be boarding ships then, well me and the boys have been thinking about that and how we have to get real close to chuck the grapnels across,” he stated. “We have come up with an idea of how to fire them out of swivels. That way you can fire them across into t’other ship’s rigging at pistol shot range.”
Marty thought about that. When they boarded another ship they traditionally came right up alongside, and men threw the grapnels to tie the two ships together. There was usually a high casualty rate amongst those men as they were targeted by any sharpshooters on the other ship. If this idea worked then it would help protect the men and cut down casualties. The down side was they would be further from the other ship with more chance he might turn away. On balance he decided it would be more of a benefit than a hazard.
“When can you get me some of those?” He asked.
Harbrook grinned and said.
“No time at all. I got fifty grapnels in the cart on the dock.”
Marty called Paul and went down to the dock to check out the invention. Whereas the traditional grapnel had an eye on the end of the shaft for attaching a line, these beasts had the eye attached where the four hooks joined together at the top of the shaft. The shaft itself was about two foot six long and had a wooden plug the diameter of a swivel bore rammed on the end and another two thirds of the way up.
“You put a half charge in the swivel, then a wad, then slide the hook in so it’s all the way in to here.” He pointed to a notch filed into the shaft about three inches below the hooks. “You have the line coiled nicely to the side, so it runs free when you shoot the hook at the other ship.”
“Brilliant idea!” Paul said admiringly.
“An’ don’t forget to tie off the bitter end,” Harbrook added as a final thought preening slightly at the praise.
Marty gave him three guineas, one for each of the Tool Shed team as a personal reward for their initiative.
His next stop was to a pub near to the India dock. He made conversation with the landlord and let him know he was looking for a sailing master, carpenter and sailmaker as well as prime hands. For a sovereign he promised to let Marty know if any ships were being paid off.
Next, he visited the sailmaker where he was having his sails made. The shed was huge, and the floor was covered in acres of pristine white canvas apart from one quarter where there was a small sea of red. Marty walked over to it and was joined by the owner.
“These will put the fear of God into anyone who sees them,” he observed.
Marty nodded.
“That is the idea. Better they give up without a fight than we have to force the issue.”
“Privateering must be mighty profitable then. Canvas that colour, that won’t fade too fast, is twice the price of white,” he observed.
“When will they be ready along with the standard white set?” Marty asked.
“Well, we are on time so far and haven’t had any major setbacks, so the end of January still looks good.”
Marty thanked him and went back to the ship.
Shelby the physician had arrived and was checking over the recruits. He was far more thorough than a Navy surgeon would have been. He had a book into which he entered each man’s name, then added a brief description of his background and his physical condition. Marty looked over his shoulder as he wrote and saw there was a third entry where he designated them fit or unfit for the rating they were applying for. Occasionally he would mark someone as fit but who needed extra food or had a curable affliction.
He had also signed as fit a number of ship’s boys, unusual for a privateer, but Tom had pointed out that they did many jobs the men would sniff at and it also gave a home to many poor waifs that would struggle to survive in the city.
Satisfied all was going well and considering it was coming up to Christmas he made his farewells to the boys and made his way home.
Caroline had decided that she would spend Christmas in London and had sent instructions to the Cheshire estate to prepare the usual celebration in their absence for the tenants and estate workers. In London the house was decorated with pine, holly and mistletoe. The two new footmen were especially useful in this as they were both easily the tallest members of the household and could reach to pin the boughs in place around the door frames.
Two large geese were hanging in the larder along with a selection of gamebirds. The cook was planning a five-bird roast. She would debone goose, capon, duck, pheasant and woodcock then place the birds in order of size on top of each other. She would then add a forcemeat stuffing and reform the goose by stitching up the breast with everything else inside. She made two, one for the house and the other at Marty’s request to be sent down the Tempest for the crew that was already on board. He would also send down a couple of cask
s of good beer and a keg of rum. The ship’s cook would prepare potatoes, vegetables and the plumb duff onboard.
James and Paul visited them for Christmas along with Admiral Hood and his wife Susannah. Armand was invited but had already agreed to spend the feast day with his in-laws, but the numbers were more than made up by Caroline’s sister Julia, her husband, Captain Cockburn, and their four teenage children.
The happy day arrived, and they all attended a service at Grosvenor Chapel, it was expected and if they didn’t it would be noted. Dinner was set for three o’clock in the afternoon and was a veritable feast. Not only was there the five-bird roast but a rib of beef, a joint of pork with beautifully crispy skin, and a whole ham that had been studded with cloves and boiled in cider. Roast and boiled potatoes, winter kale, honey baked parsnips, buttered carrots, brussels sprouts, mashed swede with lashings of butter and nutmeg, and a rich gravy made from the giblets of the fowl. For dessert there were a selection of Possets, plumb duff and custard, jellies, fruit and nuts. A selection of cheeses was laid out on a board in case anyone had room left.
The wine flowed! Bottles of Rhenish white and champagne as an aperitif followed by rich Burgundy and Bordeaux reds with the main course. The desert was washed down with sweet Madeira and port.
After they had eaten to bursting the men retired to the library where Marty had had a new billiards table installed. The older of Cockburn’s boys joined them being fourteen and sixteen respectively and midshipmen in their own right.
While the men played and drank brandy the ladies sat in the drawing room chatting and the children played quietly with their new toys with Blaez watching them intently. Caroline went to a drawer in the dresser and took out a packet of folded tissue paper. She carefully unfolded it and spilled a half a dozen sapphires and rubies into Julia’s hand.
“They are beautiful!” she exclaimed. “Are they from India?”